hackthis_archive | SV - Dream a Little Dream of Me (Lex/Clark)

I missed

oxoniensis's birthday, and when I asked her what she wanted, she asked if I could write her something for this image. As I haven't seen Smallville in like six months, this was something of a surprise, and also serious quandary as a) I never thought I would write SV again and b) I have no context for the picture, but in for a penny in for a pound.

Happy Belated Birthday, Signe. Thank you for all the kindness and heart you bring to fandom.

Smallville
Lex/Clark
Dream a Little Dream of Me

Some of Lex Luthor's dreams are surprisingly mundane; not everything in his life is about his father and his company and his murderous ex-wives. Not everything is about power and money and greed. He knows that most people wouldn't think it to look at him –- he knows that most people don't care at all, but Lex does have other dreams. Not everything in his subconscious is a nightmare.

I.

There's a red toolbox lying open on the floor of Lex's kitchen, which is interesting as Lex doesn't own a red toolbox, and certainly not one that looks so used. What's even more interesting, however, is that Clark Kent is also on the floor of Lex's kitchen.

Clark's lying on his back, underneath the sink; and true, Clark's face is hidden by the cabinets, but Lex would know those legs anywhere. Clark's long, muscular, jean-clad legs could not be mistaken for anyone else's –- especially when they're splayed out on Lex's Italian marble flooring.

Lex doesn't even want to begin waxing rhapsodic about the white tee shirt Clark is wearing, or he may never stop –- but it does seem as though the shirt is a little too small. Or perhaps that Clark is growing again, but it's not Lex's place to wonder why as long as such a nice, long slice of golden skin is being exposed to his parched eyes.

There's a loud bang from underneath the sink as though something's exploded or someone is banging on pipes, and it's loud enough that Lex should be startled, but he's a little preoccupied with Clark Kent being on his floor and fixing his sink. Not that Lex thinks he knew that the kitchen sink was broken, but if he had, he highly doubts he would've called Clark to fix it. Clark has never struck him as the home-repair sort of guy, but he is the son of Jonathan Kent, and Lex supposes that that makes Clark more self-sufficient than almost anyone else in Smallville.

Nevertheless, Lex can't quite understand why Clark is fixing his sink, in his kitchen, but since Clark is there and Lex can stare, it's not doing anyone any harm.

"Lex, could you pass me the Phillips?"

Clark's question is muffled, but Lex knows what he's saying. He can hear Clark as clearly as if he were a voice inside Lex's head, and when he crouches down to look in the toolbox, he's surprised to realize the screwdriver is already in his hand.

He nudges Clark with the handle of the Phillips, and leans back slightly when Clark props himself up on his elbows, inside the cabinet. "It's dark in here," Clark says, looking at the proffered screwdriver.

Lex smirks. "You could just come out."

Clark looks thoughtful for several moments, before crawling out of the cabinet. "It's bright out here," he says, getting to his feet, ignoring the screwdriver in Lex's hand.

"That's what happens when you come out of the dark," Lex mocks.

Clark just hmm's before turning his back on Lex and taking the entire sink basin out of the counter. "I fixed it," he says, smiling beatifically as he offers Lex the entire sink.

Lex blinks and the screwdriver falls from his fingers. "Isn't that heavy, Clark?"

Clark shrugs. "Not for me –- where do you want me to put it?"

Lex blinks again. "Wherever you want to put it."

"Okay."

Lex is still crouching on the floor when Clark bends down and brushes a kiss against the top of his head. "I think I'll take it home to my mom," Clark says walking towards the backdoor. "She'd like a new sink."

Lex watches the back door long after Clark's gone, and when he wakes up, his hamstrings are sore as though he's been holding one position too long.

II.

They're in the loft –- they're always in the loft, just once Lex would like to go someplace else, maybe a vacant field or Crater Lake or his bedroom –- and Clark is talking about something or whining about something –- most likely Lana -- or talking just to hear himself talk.

Lex has learned that sometimes Clark just likes to talk himself out; it's as though he's practicing for some day when he'll do a great amount of public speaking, and he's still refining his technique.

Lex isn't certain that Clark actually believes everything he says, but he certainly seems to have a knack for proselytizing. It's almost endearing, but not quite. Still, Clark's voice is a good voice –- it's strong and assured, when he's not playing meek and mild-mannered, and Lex could listen to Clark talk for a very long time.

Or he could if he weren't so busy staring at Clark's bare feet, which are folded up on the sofa next to him.

Clark's feet are long and slender; tan, and supple. His ankles are exquisite and his toes are gracefully tapered. Even his toenails are attractive.

Lex never realized he had a foot fetish until Clark came along –- but now, in the presence of Clark's rather arousing feet it seems that Lex is learning something new about himself.

He doesn't think he's ever actually seen Clark barefoot before, and now, it's making him feel sort of bitter, because all these years of wanting to see Clark naked, and all he needed to do was just get Clark to take off his shoes.

"And then we had sex in the car," Clark says, and Lex's neck snaps upward with a twinge that he'll feel for at least fifteen minutes.

"What?"

Clark's smile is all white teeth and guilelessness. It makes Lex's eyes hurt. "You had sex? With who?" he asks attempting to keep the peevishness out of his voice. If someone else has touched Clark's feet, there will be murders.

"With a bale of hay in the back 40, while my dad was tending to the cows. Lex, are you listening to anything I'm saying?"

Lex nods distractedly when Clark wiggles his toes. "You had sex with a cow in the back 40." His voice tapers off when he realizes what he's just said. "You're a funny guy, Clark, you know that?"

If it's at all possible, Clark's smile broadens. "I know I am, but what are you -– I mean apart from staring at my feet?"

"I'm not staring at your feet," Lex protests. The best defense is a good offense.

"Sure you're not, Lex, that's why you didn't hear me ask you out on a date."

Lex blinks. "You asked me out on a date?"

Clark shrugs. "Maybe, but you'll never know now, will you?"

"All this because I was staring your feet?" Lex feels distinctly betrayed.

"So you do admit you were staring at my feet!"

"I admit nothing without my lawyer."

Lex fumbles when Clark tosses something white and plastic at him. "Call him then," Clark says as Lex stares at the cordless phone in his hands.

Lex wakes up when the phone starts to ring.

It's his lawyer.

III.

There's shampoo on the shelf next to drugstore soap, and there's conditioner when Lex has no hair. There are black hairs on the walls of the shower, which the maid should have washed down the drain long ago.

The water in the shower is hot but Lex is cold.

This makes no sense at all, because Lex can see the steam rising up all around him. He should be engulfed with heat, but all he can feel is wetness and damp, and he wants to get out, but his body refuses to move.

It's like his wants have suddenly stopped counting at all, but Lex has always wanted –- and maybe that's been his problem all along.

Lex doesn't just want to do good things; he wants to do great things. Amazing things -- feats and accomplishments.

He wants people to love him and hate him, and yes, even fear him. He wants secrets and truths and lies and murderous ex-wives who lie to his face and set him on fire. Lex wants infanticide and fathers who try to erase their homicidal, bastard offspring in front of their legitimate heirs.

Lex wants Mrs Kent and Mr Kent and all the bills and problems that come along with being an organic farmer when the world doesn’t want you.

Lex wants to fix things and solve the issue of a new world order.

Lex wants Clark -– and all the lies and deceit that rain down on them like cold water.

Lex just wants it all.

And when he wakes up in the morning, shivering because the duvet has fallen on the floor in the middle of the night, he feels as though he hasn't slept at all.

IV.

Lex has a dream about Clark telling him the truth. It's just one dream -– but it has a lot of variations of time and place and setting and how things play out from there.

Sometimes Lex forgives Clark; sometimes he doesn't. Sometimes he says he does, but they both know he's lying, and it's just a matter of time before everything falls apart.

A lot of Lex's dreams end with ripped clothing and fucking; unsurprisingly the sex is always top-dollar, because for all of Lex's various dreams they all have unifying elements that bring them back to what he finds important in his life.

In the end, the reality is very different from anything Lex could ever have imagined.

There's a cheap, store-bough index card on the desk of his office with a time and a place and location -– and when Lex arrives, instead of finding contrition or anger or defiance, he finds Clark walking over the side of a cliff.

Instead of falling, however, Clark hovers in mid-air, staring at Lex in desperation as though he's finally run out of words and sinks and distractions.

Lex could say a lot of things –- but he's busy trying to keep his hammering heart from jumping out of his chest and beating Clark to a bloody pulp for scaring the shit out of him.

"Is this a dream?" Lex asks eventually.

Only Clark could manage to look humble and confused while hovering in the air. "Uh, no, I don't think it is," he says.

"Are you sure?"

"Well, no, but in my dreams there's generally a lot of flying and screaming and saving people. Most of them aren't about me floating above a big canyon."

"Of course," Lex says slipping his hands into his pockets to control the twitching he can feel wanting to start.

There's a cavern of silence between them that has nothing to do with the step Clark just took. "Could you do something for me, Clark?" Lex asks.

"You want me to do something for you?" Clark's tone is full of uncertainty, and Lex can't really blame him, because he's very tempted to beat Clark over the head with a rock –- but that would probably be pointless.

"If it's not too much to ask."

Lex wills himself not to take a step back when Clark floats closer. "Anything, Lex, you know that."

Lex nods. "All right -– then could you kiss me now, because if I'm dreaming, I'd prefer not to wake up until after the good part is over."

-end-

Beta by

serialkarma, remaining snafus and foot fetish by me.