Title: Earthbound

By Keelywolfe

(keelywolfe@aol.com)

Author's webpage: http://www.ravenswing.com/~keelywolfe/

Rating: NC-17

Archive: Yes.

Catagories: Angst, Drama, First-Time

Pairing: Clark/Lex

Feedback: I won't beg and plead for it, but if I stand here and look at you with little calf-eyes, would it help?

Summary: Lex takes a trip down memory lane and tries to exorcise a few demons.

Disclaimer: These characters belong to...well, people who aren't me, who probably smoke cigars and things, so don't think that I own these guys.

Spoilers: Er...nothing specific, I don't think.

Author's Notes: Because cornfields kinda creep me out too.

 

Earthbound
By Keelywolfe

**

If there was one thing that Lex truly could not stand, it was weakness. His own, someone else's. It all came down to vulnerability, the possibility of someone being able to place a foot on the back of your neck. He'd learned over the years to exploit it in others, even taken some pleasure in watching the face of a person who abruptly realizes that the carpets are suddenly beneath their knees instead of their feet.

But he still hated it.

Sunday morning and the LuthorCorp Plant #3 was a silent, hulking shadow behind him. Probably all the good people of Smallville were in church, which was why Lex was here, standing on the side of the road and staring at the cornfield.

He'd had a nanny once; a middle aged, stout Catholic woman who'd had no qualms about preaching to her young ward. She'd been dismissed quickly, of course; mustn't have anyone putting ridiculous notions in the head of the heir to the Luthor throne. But some of her lessons had refused to be exorcised and years later, cover in screamingly hot ashes, deafened to the point that he couldn't even hear his own shrieks, he'd thought himself in hell.

In hell indeed, he thought sourly.

He should have known hell was in Kansas.

It was just as well the factory was closed for the day because he'd hate for someone to see him standing here like a fool, as if he'd never seen corn before. It was ridiculous, really. He wasn't sure what he was trying to prove to himself by coming here. Not a few weeks before he'd walked through this corn, half-certain that he really was losing his mind this time, hearing voices in his head. More voices than usual, anyway.

It had even been nighttime and surely that was worse, even with a flashlight, stumbling through with faint memories of old horror movies flickering in the back of his mind. Nothing to prove, then, not to himself, not to anyone.

But then, why was he still standing at the side of the road, asked another voice in the back of his head, the father-voice, just this side of critical and if he'd ever heard his father talk to him without that little edge of criticism, he didn't remember it.

Lex sighed and mentally resigned the shoes he was wearing to join the others in the dustbin.

Neat rows of corn, easy to part them, easy to walk through but there was just something about corn, the way it rustled even when there wasn't a breath of wind, as if each stalk was whispering with its neighbor.

Foolish, fanciful thoughts, the thoughts that a child might have and Lex was no longer a child, hasn't been since the age of nine. In a space of hours he'd been changed, and he'd put his toys away in favor of new playthings. All because he'd been drawn into this cornfield.

He pushed his way deeper through the field, past the stake where he'd found Clark. It was mockingly empty, silently inviting someone to climb up and didn't anybody want to play scarecrow? Lex made a mental note to have someone come out here and tear the damn thing down.

The corn felt thicker out here, somehow, pressing closer and damp strands of silk clung to his sleeves, his shirt. Nothing out here but rustling green, an ocean of corn and Lex felt his breath catch in a way he hadn't felt since he was a child. Not asthma, couldn't be asthma, he hadn't had an attack since that very same day but his chest was tightening anyway, not caring that he no longer had asthma and his feet were working on their own as well, stumbling backwards at first, and then running, wanting nothing but to be out where he could breathe and hot pain was clawing at his lungs, struggling for air.

The corn sharp-edged and clinging, trying to hold him back, familiar even after twelve years and he tore away from it, time crawling backwards and he's nine again, and all he could think of was that this is hell and he's going to die.

Then the green stalks suddenly parted and time shot back into focus, the plant, his car and...Clark? Clark, who was probably still in diapers when Lex had his first vision of hell, who caught Lex as he stumbled, finally choking air into his starved lungs.

"Lex, what's going on? Is someone out there?" Squinted at the field as if he could stare through the thick growth and Lex found himself abruptly thrust behind the younger man as if in an instinctive urge to protect, and if Lex could have spared the breath, he would have laughed at the humiliation of it all, playing the part of damsel in distress to Clark's hero.

Curving an arm over Clark's shoulder, Lex leaned against him as he caught his breath, laughter still hovering close to the surface just waiting for his composure to fracture enough that it could escape. He stamped it down ruthlessly, feeling more himself now that he was out in the open. "No...just...the corn..." he managed, and perhaps not calm enough yet that he actually said that before thinking of how it would sound.

Clark blinked once, uncertainty clouding his eyes. "You're afraid of...corn?"

"No, I'm not afraid of corn!" Lex snapped. Clark gave him a doubtful look and then he considered how he must have looked, tearing through the corn as if it had somehow turned sentient and was in the process of planning world domination. "All right, yes, then, yes, I'm afraid of corn. Is that what you want to hear? I have nightmares about corn. The entire state of Kansas is just one bad dream to me." He took a deep, shuddering breath, already regretting his outburst as Clark's expression immediately turned contrite.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't making fun of you," said Clark, with all the sweet, earnest apology that was just such a part of him.

Shit, this boy had a serious guilt problem.

"I know you weren't," Lex said resignedly. "I'm just not really accustomed to making an ass of myself in front of others." His father didn't really count.

Bright amusement in those eyes now. "Well, then you're talking to the right person because I manage to do that at least once a day."

Clark stepped away, shoving his hands in his pockets as he considered the cornfield solemnly, apparently trying to make up for his lack of consideration before. "Is this where you were when...during the meteor shower?" he asked finally, glancing over his shoulder at Lex.

Lex moved to stand next to him and watched the rows of green quivering from a light gust of wind with narrowed eyes. Amber waves of grain his ass. He had an eerie idea that the corn wasn't as far from sentient as he'd thought.

Maybe he really was losing his mind.

"Yeah," he said, belatedly, "I guess I just wanted to see..." Lex hesitated, and shrugged. "Maybe I just wanted to see if it felt the same." And that made absolutely no sense but Clark nodded as if he'd spat a pearl of wisdom at their feet. Innocents abound in Smallville, but somehow the thought of it wasn't as acid as it had been for Lex before.

"Does it?" Clark asked, softly. "Feel the same, I mean?" As if he'd somehow understood what Lex didn't know to say.

"No," answered Lex, honestly. "The last time it was more like..." He waved his hands vaguely at the sky. "Like the heavens were raining down fire and brimstone." He smiled, self-deprecatingly. "Of course, Smallville isn't exactly how I imagined Sodom and Gomorrah."

Clark nodded again, slowly, and they both stood in silence.

So then, what to do, what to do. Corn in front of him, Clark beside him and his car behind them. Lex had very nearly decided to take the third option when Clark spoke again.

"Maybe if I go with you?"

Lex blinked. "What?"

Slowly, Clark moved to stand in front of him, took Lex's unresisting hands in his own and started walking backwards, pulling Lex gently but firmly along with him.

Lex followed, numbly, eyes locked on Clark's, and was he really this pathetic? And how was it that a farm boy could have such soft hands? Palms and fingertips as soft as a baby's...and that was a comparison he really didn't need to be making right now. He already felt like a pervert, was getting hard just at the touch of Clark's hands.

But still, so strangely soft. Another mystery to add to Clark's growing collection.

Step and step, tracing a path he'd already walked three times now in his life but only the first time he'd done it with someone else. Strange for it to be easier like this, with Clark, stranger still that Clark could make him feel this safe.

It didn't make any sense; Clark was too innocent, too pure, nothing at all like him. Clark couldn't even protect himself, but his eyes were very blue in the wash of green and brown around him, drawing Lex on as if he were on a line.

They walked for what felt like hours, eyes locked against the corn all around them, and Lex might have followed him anywhere just then...until Clark stumbled, just slightly, and glanced down at whatever had tripped him. Lex blinked, eyes aching, and for the first time he actually looked.

Nothing. Nothing but green trembling around him, leaves gossiping together and Lex closed his eyes but he could still hear it whispering behind him, all around him and any minute now it would turn to fire. A memory, the sharp, acrid stink of a just-lit match before the world exploded and the line broke.

If he could have opened his eyes Lex would have run, just fucking ran until he was out of this fucking -green- and out of Smallville, just gone somewhere other here, but his eyes refused to cooperate and in a minute he was going to start screaming, and Lex wasn't sure he was going to be able to stop. Ever.

Words that weren't whispers, a different kind of green, "Lex? Hey, it's all right, I'm right here...Lex?"

Felt arms around him, fingertips gently stroking the back of his neck and Lex shuddered, trying not to pull away, and this was so much worse, no one touched him without his permission, no one, not even his father and it wasn't that he was afraid, Lex was never afraid, certainly not of his father. He just hated being touched like this, hadn't allowed it in years. Hands gently petting his back, their warmth bleeding through his shirt.

No, not like this, never like this, not since -she- died...

No.

Found startled lips against his own before he even realized what he was going to do. Clutched Clark's shirt, refusing to let him step away and this could ruin their friendship, could ruin everything but this he could allow.

This...this he wanted.

A few moments of hesitation that were nothing like desperation, not at all but still a shock when passive lips turned hesitantly active and in turn to startling hunger.

How could it have been so long since Lex had been fifteen and trapped within a prison of hormones and principles, or maybe he'd never been this young and his prison had been made of different walls. There was sudden softness beneath his back, the heavy stink of soil strong in his nostrils, enough to make him nauseous. But it was an afterthought, not worth considering.

Not when he could tug up a loose sweatshirt and find smooth bare skin beneath it and Clark was almost as hairless as he was, and Christ, he was fifteen, wasn't he? Slid a hand lower and got a sharp gasp in reward as Clark's lips finally slid from his own. Scorching heat he could feel even through the thickness of denim, a palmful of hard, teenage want.

All right, then. Close enough.

Clark was pushing his shirt out of the way now, tasting his skin with more eagerness than skill, but that was all right, too. Made this even stranger than it already was, rolling in the dirt like someone who couldn't afford to just buy a fucking motel and ruining a lot more than his shoes.

Warm lips closed over his nipple, followed by sharp teeth and Lex hissed in surprise, swallowing words that might have been a protest before they could escape and ruin this. Better not to talk; he'd seen spells like this broken by much less. Better to let the corn talk for them, hushed whispers surrounding them, and for once it didn't bother Lex, this alien audience hiding them and only asking to watch in return.

Lex opened his eyes and stared up at the sky, utterly blue and somehow so much bigger than in Metropolis. Surreal, pale blue surrounded by a fluttery edge of green and Clark was licking him as if he never wanted to stop, as if nothing had ever tasted as good as this, and Lex could smell him, some kind of soap that smelled like nothing but clean.

Sticky dirt against his back, clinging to his bare skin and it should have been more disgusting than it was. Instead, he wanted to clench his fists in it, to hold on to something and, -fuck-, who was this person, this...this creature who was reaching between them, scrabbling at zippers and buttons and opening them with far more finesse than Lex could have managed at that moment, and how the fuck did Clark get so proficient at that? Or rather, with who?

Orange hazed his vision, a new glimpse of hell and he'd kill them, he'd fucking kill them. Lana he could tolerate, pathetic little puppyish love but this was his and he was going to...

Heat and bare skin exploded against him as Clark finally sorted out their pants, pushing them down and Lex felt Clark's cock slide against his own, all damp slick heat and Christ, Clark had to weigh a fucking ton but who the hell cared? He was half-naked in the middle of a cornfield where he had nearly died a decade ago, with a maybe-fifteen year old rubbing against him, panting into his ear, making soft, desperate noises that spoke of need and want and more and oh, Jesus fuck...

His father would kill him, more than kill him. There were worse places he could be shipped off to than Smallville. And he didn't even care. Dug his fingers into Clark's back and just went with it.

Clark's jeans were doing vicious things against his skin, scraping the line of a zipper into his skin, and even that was good, mingled sensation with the heat of naked skin, hot, hard cock against his own, wetness pooling between them that was sweat and something else, slicker and how had ever thought Clark was innocent in anything?

Heat building between them, and he was nearly clawing at Clark now, his heels digging into the back's of Clark's thighs and words were tumbling out of him, a thoughtless jumble of syllables and he thought he might have said, knew he couldn't have said...

"Oh, God, Clark...please..."

...and the heat just exploded. Blue sky and red heat flickered behind his eyes, blurring into white and he can hear dimly Clark making some noise, some whimpering -thing- that wasn't like anything he'd heard before and the sudden blurt of wet heat between them is almost an afterthought.

Soaring. He remembered this, before he'd woken to the bitter metallic taste of river water on his tongue, cold and aching, and not at all sure that he really wasn't dead. He remembered seeing everything, Smallville, beneath him and he flew for just a brief instant of forever, before gravity yanked him back into his life.

Lex blinked, abruptly aware of every fragment of dirt ground into his skin, the slightly revolting sensation of come gluing him and Clark together and of the fact that Clark was slumped against him, making breathing become a little more alarming of a chore than it should have been.

"Clark?" he rasped, trying to move without getting into a more undignified squirm

An indistinct noise that might have been words in some other place and time and suddenly he could breathe, air rushing into his lungs as Clark shifted off of him to sit on the ground next to him.

Clark looked...sexy as hell. That innocence that he couldn't seem to shake mixed with complete debauchery. Too disgustingly cliché to say he looked like a well-fucked angel. Maybe just a minor god.

The ground was getting a little firmer under Lex, a little too firm in fact and he grimaced as he sat up, feeling tired and bruised and just utterly wrecked. They were both a complete mess, stained with dirt and come, and god knows whatever else the put in these cornfields, and Lex knew he was going to have to take Clark with him because there was no way in hell he could let him go home looking like this, and that he was never going to get all of this shit out of his car.

It was all so suddenly funny that Lex couldn't hold back the laughter.

"Lex, are you...all right?" Clark blushed a little, to Lex's fascinated amusement. Here they both were, half-naked and filthy and -now- Clark was embarrassed.

"Yeah. I'm good, Clark. I'm...I'm really good." Lex let his voice drop just a little, just to see Clark's eyes darken and the blush dye his cheeks again.

He was good. Just good, like this was just corn, and nothing more. And just for a second, he'd flown, again, like he remembered it. Like before, as if there was something about Clark that made him fly.

Something about Clark.

"Come home with me?" He made it a question, faintly pleading and even a Luthor will plead if it serves his purpose. Another lesson of his father's that Lex had modified to suit his own purposes.

Clark smiled at him, a little shy now but that was all right too. So long as he came, for whatever reason he came and Lex suddenly knew, with no shadows of doubt, that he would do anything, anything at all, to keep Clark near.

Because Lex can't fly alone.

 

-finis-