for my own satisfaction.
Jul. 18th, 2002 01:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hackthis_archivei had a lot of problems with 'just looking' not as a story, but as something that i forced to be something it didn't want to be. i wanted to write ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
happyminion a happy-fic, and that was happening for the first 12 pages and then lex got pissed off and i got freaked out. he wanted to fight, i was just trying to make a happy-ending. we compromised and nobody got off.
i need to make it up to lex as much as myself because i feel like i kinda short-changed us both. so there's thing. wherein you get nudity and anger and a hint of something that i might expand on.
it's not a sequel as much as a correction of sorts
Title: The View From the Inside
Summary: It’s never nothing to Lex.
Notes: Te wondered, so did I.
~ * ~
The most beautiful thing in the world is Clark’s laugh; it’s a laugh that Lex wants to trademark and claim custodial rights over. Lex wants to own Clark’s laugh and have it belong to him alone.
Lex does not want to share Clark. Lex doesn’t want to share Clark’s laugh. It’s a laugh that’s deep and rich and full of promise, and it seeps into Lex’s pores and invades his blood. Lex has never heard a laugh like this from anyone else, except perhaps his mother, and that says a lot.
No one laughs for Lex, nowadays nobody laughs *at* Lex.
People in Metropolis don’t laugh like Clark, no one laughs like Clark. Of course the people that Lex knows in Metropolis aren’t physically able to laugh because Lex knows that you need lips to laugh, and he doesn’t think that piranhas have lips.
But Clark’s laugh is something else entirely, it’s accompanied by white teeth and full lips and brilliant hazel eyes that crinkle in the corners when they’re focused on Lex’s face. Clark’s laugh is real. Clark is real. When Lex holds Clark, Clark makes him feel real. Clark makes Lex feel like anything is possible, even two boys in the Garden of Eden.
When Lex touches Clark in the water it feels more than real, more than right. It feels natural, destined.
When Clark kisses Lex and his tongue is warm and wet and eager, Lex can’t help but moan. He can’t help but want more. Lex could try and contain his need to swallow Clark whole, but he won’t. If Clark really wants to see what Lex wants, Lex will show him.
Just this once.
Just this once, in a swimming hole hidden away from everyone who doesn’t matter, Lex will want and care and give Clark everything he can; and if it’s not enough, Lex doesn’t even want to think about what that will mean. Lex is in *this* moment and he doesn’t want to think about the next. Not when Lex can grab Clark and claw at his back and whimper when Clark closes that enormous hand around Lex’s cock and jerks him off slow and hard.
Lex is not going to see past this scenic idyll when he can bury his head in Clark’s neck and lick at the run-off water and the smell of fresh grass that always seems to follow Clark around. Lex can want Clark, Lex can want more than nothing.
Lex can give Clark a reason to want more than a simple nothing. He can lick and suck and kiss Clark until Clark’s breathless and weak and clutching at Lex like *he’s* the one that’s drowning. Lex can flick his tongue over Clark’s collarbone and nip at that little divot above Clark’s upper lip while he gives Clark the kind of handjob that Clark's only read about.
Lex can whisper in Clark’s ear and tell him everything that he wants to do to him. Every position Lex wants to fuck him in, every way Lex wants to be fucked. Lex can explain in rainbow bright detail exactly how he’s going to suck Clark off when the time comes.
Lex can promise Clark the world; and better yet, he can deliver it.
Lex will do anything to keep Clark.
Clark fits Lex like clothing never will, like Lex suspects nothing ever will again. Lex’s own skin doesn’t fit as well as Clark does. Nothing fits Lex the way that Clark does.
Clark’s mouth fits perfectly over Lex’s, his hands fit perfectly over Lex’s hips. Clark cock fits in Lex’s hand like it was created just for Lex to hold. Smooth, warm skin being held by Lex in water that isn’t fit for their first time together. Lex wants to be able to see Clark, he’s spent so much time looking at Clark that he thinks he should be able to enjoy himself now.
Lex wants Clark to see him too. Lex wants to make sure that Clark has been looking, that Clark knows everything that Lex is willing to give him has nothing to do with sex.
Lex can get fucked by anybody, that’s not what he wants from Clark.
That’s why Lex had envisioned beds and cotton and sofas and leather. That’s why Lex had envisioned truth and honesty and laughter. One-third of anything is not acceptable to Lex. One-third is failing, and it’s less than *all*, and if Lex accepts this one-third that Clark is giving him it’s like saying that’s all he thinks Clark’s worth.
Lex knows Clark's worth more than that. He wants this thing with Clark to be worth more than that. Lex doesn’t want a *thing*, he can call an escort service for a thing; he can call Victoria for a *thing*.
People Lex has ‘things’ with don’t care about his freckles. They don’t care about the red hair. Lex doesn’t have *things* with people who save his life.
Lex doesn’t care about the people he has things with, he doesn’t care about their laughs or their pain or their lies. Clark’s laugh makes Lex’s insides twist and turn and do the sort of somersaults that can only be completed in cyberspace.
Clark’s lies do even worse.
Lex wants Clark to laugh for him; he wants Clark to smile for him.
Lex wants it all, nothing less. He wants to be everything to Clark, and he can wait.
He’s just not sure how long.
~ * ~
Guilt only bothers people who have consciences, so Lex normally sleeps like the dead. Once or twice Lex probably *was* dead, but he’s always come back so it doesn’t really matter. Lex has flown and Lex has drowned, and he’s still walking the earth looking for things to conquer, things to make him feel.
Lex is still looking.
When something is off, all the realignment in the world can’t change it, and the more Lex tries to deny that he’s deluding himself about Clark, the harder it gets to sleep.
It’s been two days since Clark first kissed Lex in the swimming hole, and it’s been two days since Lex opened himself up for the first and last time.
Clark hasn’t called. He hasn’t stopped by. Which leads Lex to believe that everything that went on down at the swimming hole must’ve been a bigger ploy that he ever thought, a manipulation. It’s been two days since Lex unlocked the door to the Garden of Eden and he hasn’t slept since.
Lex used to see insomnia as proof that he hadn’t worked hard enough, fucked hard enough, done enough drugs. But he’s slept better in Smallville than he ever did in Metropolis. Lex has slept better by just *being* in Clark Kent’s vicinity, and the thought that Clark doesn’t want him, that it was all a diversionary tactic to confuse Lex.
The idea that Clark purposefully deceived him, that he should've seen this coming. It’s not a new idea.
Lex thinks he may never sleep again.
If this is a game, Clark is definitely the grandmaster, because it’s 1:45am on the third day since Clark clambered out of that swimming hole talking about chores and hay, promising Lex that he would call, and Lex hasn’t been right since.
Clark hasn’t called since.
Lex knows he can’t possible be right in the head because he’s sitting in his gray boxer-briefs in his office starring at a chessboard and all he can see is how he’s going to lose.
All Lex can see is an inevitable checkmate when he hasn’t even moved a rook or a knight or anything else to start the game.
White always goes first.
It’s just an evil twist of fate that Clark is now standing in his doorway wearing a white shirt.
Lex hates fate.
TBC...potentially
happyminion a happy-fic, and that was happening for the first 12 pages and then lex got pissed off and i got freaked out. he wanted to fight, i was just trying to make a happy-ending. we compromised and nobody got off. i need to make it up to lex as much as myself because i feel like i kinda short-changed us both. so there's thing. wherein you get nudity and anger and a hint of something that i might expand on.
it's not a sequel as much as a correction of sorts
Title: The View From the Inside
Summary: It’s never nothing to Lex.
Notes: Te wondered, so did I.
~ * ~
The most beautiful thing in the world is Clark’s laugh; it’s a laugh that Lex wants to trademark and claim custodial rights over. Lex wants to own Clark’s laugh and have it belong to him alone.
Lex does not want to share Clark. Lex doesn’t want to share Clark’s laugh. It’s a laugh that’s deep and rich and full of promise, and it seeps into Lex’s pores and invades his blood. Lex has never heard a laugh like this from anyone else, except perhaps his mother, and that says a lot.
No one laughs for Lex, nowadays nobody laughs *at* Lex.
People in Metropolis don’t laugh like Clark, no one laughs like Clark. Of course the people that Lex knows in Metropolis aren’t physically able to laugh because Lex knows that you need lips to laugh, and he doesn’t think that piranhas have lips.
But Clark’s laugh is something else entirely, it’s accompanied by white teeth and full lips and brilliant hazel eyes that crinkle in the corners when they’re focused on Lex’s face. Clark’s laugh is real. Clark is real. When Lex holds Clark, Clark makes him feel real. Clark makes Lex feel like anything is possible, even two boys in the Garden of Eden.
When Lex touches Clark in the water it feels more than real, more than right. It feels natural, destined.
When Clark kisses Lex and his tongue is warm and wet and eager, Lex can’t help but moan. He can’t help but want more. Lex could try and contain his need to swallow Clark whole, but he won’t. If Clark really wants to see what Lex wants, Lex will show him.
Just this once.
Just this once, in a swimming hole hidden away from everyone who doesn’t matter, Lex will want and care and give Clark everything he can; and if it’s not enough, Lex doesn’t even want to think about what that will mean. Lex is in *this* moment and he doesn’t want to think about the next. Not when Lex can grab Clark and claw at his back and whimper when Clark closes that enormous hand around Lex’s cock and jerks him off slow and hard.
Lex is not going to see past this scenic idyll when he can bury his head in Clark’s neck and lick at the run-off water and the smell of fresh grass that always seems to follow Clark around. Lex can want Clark, Lex can want more than nothing.
Lex can give Clark a reason to want more than a simple nothing. He can lick and suck and kiss Clark until Clark’s breathless and weak and clutching at Lex like *he’s* the one that’s drowning. Lex can flick his tongue over Clark’s collarbone and nip at that little divot above Clark’s upper lip while he gives Clark the kind of handjob that Clark's only read about.
Lex can whisper in Clark’s ear and tell him everything that he wants to do to him. Every position Lex wants to fuck him in, every way Lex wants to be fucked. Lex can explain in rainbow bright detail exactly how he’s going to suck Clark off when the time comes.
Lex can promise Clark the world; and better yet, he can deliver it.
Lex will do anything to keep Clark.
Clark fits Lex like clothing never will, like Lex suspects nothing ever will again. Lex’s own skin doesn’t fit as well as Clark does. Nothing fits Lex the way that Clark does.
Clark’s mouth fits perfectly over Lex’s, his hands fit perfectly over Lex’s hips. Clark cock fits in Lex’s hand like it was created just for Lex to hold. Smooth, warm skin being held by Lex in water that isn’t fit for their first time together. Lex wants to be able to see Clark, he’s spent so much time looking at Clark that he thinks he should be able to enjoy himself now.
Lex wants Clark to see him too. Lex wants to make sure that Clark has been looking, that Clark knows everything that Lex is willing to give him has nothing to do with sex.
Lex can get fucked by anybody, that’s not what he wants from Clark.
That’s why Lex had envisioned beds and cotton and sofas and leather. That’s why Lex had envisioned truth and honesty and laughter. One-third of anything is not acceptable to Lex. One-third is failing, and it’s less than *all*, and if Lex accepts this one-third that Clark is giving him it’s like saying that’s all he thinks Clark’s worth.
Lex knows Clark's worth more than that. He wants this thing with Clark to be worth more than that. Lex doesn’t want a *thing*, he can call an escort service for a thing; he can call Victoria for a *thing*.
People Lex has ‘things’ with don’t care about his freckles. They don’t care about the red hair. Lex doesn’t have *things* with people who save his life.
Lex doesn’t care about the people he has things with, he doesn’t care about their laughs or their pain or their lies. Clark’s laugh makes Lex’s insides twist and turn and do the sort of somersaults that can only be completed in cyberspace.
Clark’s lies do even worse.
Lex wants Clark to laugh for him; he wants Clark to smile for him.
Lex wants it all, nothing less. He wants to be everything to Clark, and he can wait.
He’s just not sure how long.
~ * ~
Guilt only bothers people who have consciences, so Lex normally sleeps like the dead. Once or twice Lex probably *was* dead, but he’s always come back so it doesn’t really matter. Lex has flown and Lex has drowned, and he’s still walking the earth looking for things to conquer, things to make him feel.
Lex is still looking.
When something is off, all the realignment in the world can’t change it, and the more Lex tries to deny that he’s deluding himself about Clark, the harder it gets to sleep.
It’s been two days since Clark first kissed Lex in the swimming hole, and it’s been two days since Lex opened himself up for the first and last time.
Clark hasn’t called. He hasn’t stopped by. Which leads Lex to believe that everything that went on down at the swimming hole must’ve been a bigger ploy that he ever thought, a manipulation. It’s been two days since Lex unlocked the door to the Garden of Eden and he hasn’t slept since.
Lex used to see insomnia as proof that he hadn’t worked hard enough, fucked hard enough, done enough drugs. But he’s slept better in Smallville than he ever did in Metropolis. Lex has slept better by just *being* in Clark Kent’s vicinity, and the thought that Clark doesn’t want him, that it was all a diversionary tactic to confuse Lex.
The idea that Clark purposefully deceived him, that he should've seen this coming. It’s not a new idea.
Lex thinks he may never sleep again.
If this is a game, Clark is definitely the grandmaster, because it’s 1:45am on the third day since Clark clambered out of that swimming hole talking about chores and hay, promising Lex that he would call, and Lex hasn’t been right since.
Clark hasn’t called since.
Lex knows he can’t possible be right in the head because he’s sitting in his gray boxer-briefs in his office starring at a chessboard and all he can see is how he’s going to lose.
All Lex can see is an inevitable checkmate when he hasn’t even moved a rook or a knight or anything else to start the game.
White always goes first.
It’s just an evil twist of fate that Clark is now standing in his doorway wearing a white shirt.
Lex hates fate.
TBC...potentially
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
STOP WRITING C/L!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Date: 2002-07-18 03:11 pm (UTC)Like, like, write a story where Lionel seduces Clark! I swear, I will do it! Or worse, how about Martha and Lana? I will write it, and then I will trick you with it, and you won't know that's what it is when you start reading, and then your eyes will fall out. What would it be like to have two glass eyes? Wanna find out?
Bah. Ok, I will read this in a few.
Re: STOP WRITING C/L!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Date: 2002-07-18 03:16 pm (UTC)you really are evil.
Don't. Please don't stop writing C/L
Date: 2002-07-18 03:58 pm (UTC)'Cause I love that. I mean, I do get the wish-for-other-pairings-and-topics, because my primary fandom is Jossverse and that seems to be wall-to-wall Spuffy these days, which I just can't obsess over (although I adore some authors' S/B fic)...but please don't stop the C/L. This is scrumptious.
Re: Don't. Please don't stop writing C/L
Date: 2002-07-18 04:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-07-18 04:25 pm (UTC)???
The fuck?!
What do you MEAN potentially?? Do I have to ground you? Do I have to take away the drugs and the naked boys and the sex, baby girl? Do I???
You know this hurts me more than it hurts you.
Go! WRITE MORE!!
*g*
Please?
no subject
Date: 2002-07-18 04:57 pm (UTC)ack! no! not that, anything but that mom. i promise i'll be good, i'll write more.
no subject
Date: 2002-07-28 11:06 pm (UTC)So delightful. I like this and the original less angsty skinny-dipping-fic; please, keep them both. Lex wants you to. (He told me. No, really.)
Re:
Date: 2002-07-29 09:09 am (UTC)That was the idea, really, honestly, truthfully. It just didn't quite happen the way it was supposed to and has been deep six'd. i hope the story i post today will make up for that.