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2020-11-05
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Worlds Between Metropolis and Smallville

Summary:

Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating: FRT - slash
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money made.

Work Text:




Worlds Between Metropolis and Smallville
by Sam-Tony

The party had been a roaring success, Lex's castle having been filled with more important personages than the Capitol Building in DC during election year. Between the expensive liquor and the food, the wealth of fine gowns and gentlemen's tuxedos, the light that sparkled, reflecting back at the guests from more jewels than any pirate could boast in treasure, it was safe to say that Lex had definitely made a favorable impression on the multitude of investors looking to climb on board with Lex Luthor as he carved himself a niche of his own away from LuthorCorp.

Just the massive Christmas tree that had all but dwarfed the open foyer had left Clark speechless. The castle itself had echoed this year's theme of green, purple and gold - Lex's chosen colors - that had replaced last year's standard of silver, gold and black, threading through the garlands twining around the stone ramparts; winking in the bright lights of the hundreds of artificial candles placed around the main floor of the castle that had remained opened for Lex's guests. Garlands, wreaths, trees - all had been decorated in their festive colors; tables with tasseled runners of the same, laden with food enough to feed a small country. More, actually, and Lex may deny it, but Clark had overheard him telling the head of the kitchen staff, Dominick, that all food leftover from tonight's party was to be driven to as many homeless shelters as was possible before the food ran out.

Clark had been invited to the party, and had actually attended, dressed in a tux tailored to actually fit him, topped off with a red silk kerchief that had matched his favorite t-shirt exactly. He had been impressed at how easily Lex had moved among that world, the sharks out tonight, no doubt sent directly from Lex's father, Lionel. But Lex had merely smiled and circled gracefully among his guests, giving the impression of a genteel if ruthless businessman himself, all the while keeping an attentive eye on his guests.

Clark had mostly smiled behind a glass of very expensive scotch, keeping an attentive eye on Lex.

Now, back at the farm, miles away from the cutthroat world of business politics, Lex lay naked in Clark's arms, the two of them hidden away from the rest of the world up in the loft of the barn. Clark had made a concerted effort that, up here, curled in Clark's bed, with nothing here to remind Lex of a life he sometimes needed to leave behind, it was peaceful; free from obligations and responsibility. For both of them.

Lex shivered in the cold breeze coming in from the open window of what had once been used for hoisting hay bales into the barn, his skin where it lay against Clark's arm prickling in goosebumps.

When Clark made to get up to close the doors, Lex held him close, shaking his head. "Leave them open? I like looking at the stars." And then lower, with a wry twist, "Though the diesel fumes I could do without."

"Sorry, tractors go with farms, you know." Clark chuckled and pulled him closer. "Lex, you're freezing."

"You keep me warm, Clark."

Clark smiled, a genuinely pleased flash of teeth. "I do?"

Because Lex meant so much more than just the night air seeping into the loft that pebbled his skin; so much deeper than just flesh and bone. And he made sure Clark knew that.

Blue eyes looked into his and Lex smiled, acknowledging the words for what they were - an admission of weakness. "Yes, Clark. You do. You always have."

Kissing those lips, Clark wiggled a little closer, sliding his arm under the smooth skin of the long neck to pull Lex closer. Settling the older man into his arms, Clark sighed as Lex burrowed deeper against his chest, wriggling until he was, once again, facing the open sky. Crickets and other night insects chirped and whirred outside as Lex's breathing grew steadily more shallow until he was asleep, lying naked and content under the handmade patchwork quilt and flannel sheets of Clark's bed, surrounded by the hay and fields of the farm and the diesel fumes from the old tractor.

Brushing a kiss to the bald head, Clark whispered softly into his ear. "Sleep well, Lex. Merry Christmas."

end

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