hackthis_archive (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hackthis_archive) wrote2002-12-10 10:01 pm
hackthis_archive) wrote2002-12-10 10:01 pm
SV Drabble
I watched 30 seconds of tonight's 'Duplicity' but what I heard was dead relevant, cos you know, beach house? What beach house?! So, this is inspired by my need to write something about that -- for me. Oh, and for Rana (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ranaeros) cos her birthday is Friday.
Dancing in the Waves
The salt air tastes tangy in his mouth, and Lex can’t help but inhale deeply. The air here is different than Smallville, sharper, more vivid and full of life. The wind blows strongly, causing white caps several yards out, and if Lex had hair it would whip in his face, but as it stands he doesn’t, so he just rubs his scalp and smiles wanly. This is Clark’s first trip to the ocean, and Lex watches in amusement as Clark occupies himself down by the water‘s edge. Clark dances in the waves, wandering in and out of the tide with his tennis shoes clasped in his hands and jeans turned up like Huckleberry Kent .
Lex had to remind Clark to take off his shoes and socks before he waded in, and Clark was so excited on the drive to the house that it was all he could talk about: the ocean and the sea and all the things that he wanted to do on their weekend away.
It only took the Kents a month to agree to this trip, and Lex wishes he had thought of it sooner.
It’s almost too right.
The beach house is where his mother went to relax. It’s a place that Lex hasn’t been able to bring himself to visit in a very long time, and he remembers that she used to do the exact same thing that Clark is doing right now: crouching in the sand and digging with long fingers, looking for god only knows what.
His mother’s hair would smell of salt and sand in the evening when they would sit on the porch and read together. She always read large tomes of poetry and folklore in the city, but at the beach she always had a dime store paperback within a finger’s reach. Something about giving her mind a rest with Tom Clancy and John Grisham and Patricia Cornwall and her scatological coroner. Lex has never been able to read paperbacks like those, he finds them wanting, just as he finds himself wanting now.
He misses his mother, and even Clark can’t take her place. He smiles as genuinely as possible when Clark comes bounding through the sand with a grin on his face and his hair blowing in the breeze. “Having fun?”
“The water is amazing, Lex,” he says with a genuine enthusiasm that Lex hasn’t felt for anything in a very long time. Anything besides the high school senior who’s currently casting a long shadow on pale yellow sand. “I wish it was warmer so I could go swimming.”
“You can always go swimming at the castle,” Lex replies with a smile. It’s not as though Clark has ever been unable to abuse castle facilities which are entirely at his disposal, but Lex knows it’s not the same. The laps he swims in the morning have never been a sufficient replacement for the time he spent in the ocean as a child. But a lot of things can’t be replaced, and even he can see that the time they have now is one of those things.
In a few months Clark will graduate and then he'll begin college, and they’ll never have a time like this again, so Lex watches intently as Clark digs his toes into the sand. “Well, yeah, but it’s not the same you know?”
“Yes, Clark, I know.” Lex knows a lot of things. He even knows about the hopeful glances that Clark has been shooting at him throughout the last year and the non-subtle hints that he’s taken to dropping.
“Do you come here a lot?” Clark tilts his head to the side, and his eyes dart between the house and Lex with a honest curiosity that Lex knows will be gone this time next year. Clark is still a simple country boy in a lot of ways, but a few short months in the city will change all that.
This exact moment will never happen again. Clark will always be this beautiful, but it will never radiate the same way that it does as he glances shyly at Lex.
“I haven’t been here in ages,” Lex answers truthfully. “Not since my mother died.”
The look on Clark‘s face reminds Lex of his first mouthful of caviar and the first time he said the wrong thing at the wrong time. Times have changed but human expressions haven't. “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to depress you - God, I don’t know how -- I really blew that, huh?”
“I’m not depressed, and you didn’t ruin anything, Clark. I think the beach is amazing.” He always has done. Even after his mother’s death, Lex thought about the beach house incessantly. He even recommended his father come out here after the accident, something about the healing properties of sea air and a clear head.
“I just -- you must think I‘m a big idiot, huh? Farmboy finally out of the country and acting like a five-year old with a new toy.” That’s not really what Lex has been thinking, but it’s true. Just not in a bad way. Lex never got to be the five-year old that Clark is disparaging right now. He’d like to try it out some day. Maybe with Clark at his side.
“There’s this thing I do, Clark, it’s called work.” Of course it’s an excuse, but Lex has always been good about coming up with those. And so has Clark, but this weekend isn’t about that. This weekend isn’t about excuses and reasons and whys and wherefores, it’s about getting away and escapism and hopefully making memories that will erase all the other stuff.
There’s a lot of other stuff.
“I know, I just - you work too hard, Lex.” Clark looks slightly sad now, as though he knows something Lex doesn’t. Maybe he does. Time has gone by so fast, and Lex still remembers the gangly fifteen year-old that was uncertain about speaking his mind.
“I thought you were going to say something like that.”
“Yeah, well, it’s true. But look, you’ve taken the day off now, why don’t we enjoy it?” The sadness that was momentarily there has been replaced by this hopefulness. and Lex has never been able to resist when Clark worries his bottom lip that way. Clark must know this by now. It’s the only explanation for the earnest expression on his face.
“I see, and how exactly would you like to enjoy it?”
“Well, we could take a walk along the water. That would be nice, and there are shells and stuff. We could collect them?” Lex’s mother used to collect shells at the beach. There’s a massive display case in the living room of all the shells she’s found. Lex remembers sitting on the counter of the kitchen while she washed them and talked about the huge conch shells that are so plentiful in the islands. She used to make up stories about little girls who lived inside them.
If she were alive right now, Lex could watch as she and Clark went around collecting shells, and in the evening they could make up stories to go with them.
“How about you collect shells and I watch?” Lex offers with a smile.
“We could do that too, but don’t forget to take off your shoes.” Clark’s smile spreads across his face as though he’s just been given the pony that he’s wanted all year. Lex knows that feeling; he feels it every time Clark is near.
“No, I won’t forget to do that.”
“And Lex?”
“Yes, Clark?”
“I’m glad you brought me here.”
“So am I.”
ranaeros) cos her birthday is Friday.Dancing in the Waves
The salt air tastes tangy in his mouth, and Lex can’t help but inhale deeply. The air here is different than Smallville, sharper, more vivid and full of life. The wind blows strongly, causing white caps several yards out, and if Lex had hair it would whip in his face, but as it stands he doesn’t, so he just rubs his scalp and smiles wanly. This is Clark’s first trip to the ocean, and Lex watches in amusement as Clark occupies himself down by the water‘s edge. Clark dances in the waves, wandering in and out of the tide with his tennis shoes clasped in his hands and jeans turned up like Huckleberry Kent .
Lex had to remind Clark to take off his shoes and socks before he waded in, and Clark was so excited on the drive to the house that it was all he could talk about: the ocean and the sea and all the things that he wanted to do on their weekend away.
It only took the Kents a month to agree to this trip, and Lex wishes he had thought of it sooner.
It’s almost too right.
The beach house is where his mother went to relax. It’s a place that Lex hasn’t been able to bring himself to visit in a very long time, and he remembers that she used to do the exact same thing that Clark is doing right now: crouching in the sand and digging with long fingers, looking for god only knows what.
His mother’s hair would smell of salt and sand in the evening when they would sit on the porch and read together. She always read large tomes of poetry and folklore in the city, but at the beach she always had a dime store paperback within a finger’s reach. Something about giving her mind a rest with Tom Clancy and John Grisham and Patricia Cornwall and her scatological coroner. Lex has never been able to read paperbacks like those, he finds them wanting, just as he finds himself wanting now.
He misses his mother, and even Clark can’t take her place. He smiles as genuinely as possible when Clark comes bounding through the sand with a grin on his face and his hair blowing in the breeze. “Having fun?”
“The water is amazing, Lex,” he says with a genuine enthusiasm that Lex hasn’t felt for anything in a very long time. Anything besides the high school senior who’s currently casting a long shadow on pale yellow sand. “I wish it was warmer so I could go swimming.”
“You can always go swimming at the castle,” Lex replies with a smile. It’s not as though Clark has ever been unable to abuse castle facilities which are entirely at his disposal, but Lex knows it’s not the same. The laps he swims in the morning have never been a sufficient replacement for the time he spent in the ocean as a child. But a lot of things can’t be replaced, and even he can see that the time they have now is one of those things.
In a few months Clark will graduate and then he'll begin college, and they’ll never have a time like this again, so Lex watches intently as Clark digs his toes into the sand. “Well, yeah, but it’s not the same you know?”
“Yes, Clark, I know.” Lex knows a lot of things. He even knows about the hopeful glances that Clark has been shooting at him throughout the last year and the non-subtle hints that he’s taken to dropping.
“Do you come here a lot?” Clark tilts his head to the side, and his eyes dart between the house and Lex with a honest curiosity that Lex knows will be gone this time next year. Clark is still a simple country boy in a lot of ways, but a few short months in the city will change all that.
This exact moment will never happen again. Clark will always be this beautiful, but it will never radiate the same way that it does as he glances shyly at Lex.
“I haven’t been here in ages,” Lex answers truthfully. “Not since my mother died.”
The look on Clark‘s face reminds Lex of his first mouthful of caviar and the first time he said the wrong thing at the wrong time. Times have changed but human expressions haven't. “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to depress you - God, I don’t know how -- I really blew that, huh?”
“I’m not depressed, and you didn’t ruin anything, Clark. I think the beach is amazing.” He always has done. Even after his mother’s death, Lex thought about the beach house incessantly. He even recommended his father come out here after the accident, something about the healing properties of sea air and a clear head.
“I just -- you must think I‘m a big idiot, huh? Farmboy finally out of the country and acting like a five-year old with a new toy.” That’s not really what Lex has been thinking, but it’s true. Just not in a bad way. Lex never got to be the five-year old that Clark is disparaging right now. He’d like to try it out some day. Maybe with Clark at his side.
“There’s this thing I do, Clark, it’s called work.” Of course it’s an excuse, but Lex has always been good about coming up with those. And so has Clark, but this weekend isn’t about that. This weekend isn’t about excuses and reasons and whys and wherefores, it’s about getting away and escapism and hopefully making memories that will erase all the other stuff.
There’s a lot of other stuff.
“I know, I just - you work too hard, Lex.” Clark looks slightly sad now, as though he knows something Lex doesn’t. Maybe he does. Time has gone by so fast, and Lex still remembers the gangly fifteen year-old that was uncertain about speaking his mind.
“I thought you were going to say something like that.”
“Yeah, well, it’s true. But look, you’ve taken the day off now, why don’t we enjoy it?” The sadness that was momentarily there has been replaced by this hopefulness. and Lex has never been able to resist when Clark worries his bottom lip that way. Clark must know this by now. It’s the only explanation for the earnest expression on his face.
“I see, and how exactly would you like to enjoy it?”
“Well, we could take a walk along the water. That would be nice, and there are shells and stuff. We could collect them?” Lex’s mother used to collect shells at the beach. There’s a massive display case in the living room of all the shells she’s found. Lex remembers sitting on the counter of the kitchen while she washed them and talked about the huge conch shells that are so plentiful in the islands. She used to make up stories about little girls who lived inside them.
If she were alive right now, Lex could watch as she and Clark went around collecting shells, and in the evening they could make up stories to go with them.
“How about you collect shells and I watch?” Lex offers with a smile.
“We could do that too, but don’t forget to take off your shoes.” Clark’s smile spreads across his face as though he’s just been given the pony that he’s wanted all year. Lex knows that feeling; he feels it every time Clark is near.
“No, I won’t forget to do that.”
“And Lex?”
“Yes, Clark?”
“I’m glad you brought me here.”
“So am I.”
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icon. lex. whipped cream. ::collapses in heap:: oh, yes, and i'm glad you liked this :)