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crack_van2009-03-19 08:43 pm
prmalscream.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2009-03-19 08:43 pm
Entry tags:
Three Impossible Things by Jenn
Fandom: SMALLVILLE
Pairing: Clark/Lex, Clark/Chloe, Lex/OFC
Length: 32,000
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
seperis
Author Website: http://seperis.illuminatedtext.com
Why this must be read:
Other than being incredibly well written and executed, there are places in this fic where you can feel the pain and the want and the desperation that Clark is feeling. In my opinion it’s one of the most epic and classic Clark and Lex coming together story.
"Change is inevitable." But Lex is watching him, carefully. "You do know that Lena doesn't change anything with us?"
He really doesn't think Lex is psychic, just really damn good at assessment. Drunk, high, stone sober, none of it stops that mind from moving. Nothing changes except her shoes and bracelets and the way she reads Lex's smiles and the way he smiles for her. The fact he has a blue car and a blue vase. The way she fits so perfectly into his life like she'd been created just for that slot. This apartment. His world.
"Of course not." And he knows his voice is giving him away and can't help it. Quickly, he shakes his head. "I'm being stupid, I know. Just--" Fuck. Dammit. "I like her."
"She's very likable." He can almost feel Lex trying to read him, but it's a night involving alcohol and Lex isn't going to be on top of his game in any way, shape, or form, not if Clark works to make sure Lex can't read him. "Clark...."
"I like her, okay? She's--good for you." Good for him, good for Chloe, not so great for Clark, but two out of three isn't bad. "She's nice and she's sweet and she's intelligent and Chloe thinks she's just great--" Fuck. Chloe. Clark swallows hard. "She's great."
"You don't like her." Lex says it slow and thoughtful, but it's mostly alcohol and Clark has a sudden and uncomfortable realization that the crux of this is right *there*. Lena *is* good for Lex. Better by far than any of the others, and she *likes* Lex. Likes the person Lex, likes his friends, doesn't seem to care when she's asked to share her time or her space or her boyfriend and oh God, her *boyfriend*, lover, all the definitions.
"I like her a lot." And he couldn't have sounded less convincing if he'd said he liked lima beans. Oh God. "She's perfect."
"Clark--" Lex is pulling himself all the way up, leaning forward, knee dropping from under Clark's hand and staring at him. They needed more vodka, right here right now, enough to black them *both* out so this conversation never happened.
"I want impossible things," Clark hears himself say and why the fuck isn't he shutting up? "Nothing changing. Or at least, not so fast." And this is fast, even for him, even considering the day he woke up able to actually *fly*, not float, and the day his hearing kicked in and the day he learned he was an alien. All those things, that changed his life so completely, and Chloe had been--God, so natural, fit right into everything so easily and so effortlessly and Lex, he can see it, is moving, just like she is. Clark's the one standing still.
The spoiled fifteen year old in him that's been the focus of Chloe's and Lex's attention for far too long is seriously throwing a fit.
"I should go." Somehow, he gets out from under Lex's leg, on his feet, swaying a little as the remains of the alcohol rush his head. Vision sparkles and dances in and out of x-ray, enough to make him dizzy.
"Don't even think about it." Lex braces a hand on the back of the sofa. "Clark, stop. Look at me. Just--"
"It's--a bad night," Clark says, as if it'll explain it, but it really doesn't. Not at all. Lex gives up on the standing, which is good because his balance is worse off than Clark's. "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize." Lex's diction is always so damn good, even when he's drunk, and he's very, very drunk. A look confirms it, and there's a chance Lex won't remember any of this in the morning. That was a *lot* of vodka. "You're not going anywhere. Sit the fuck down."
"Lex--"
"If it's that damn important, I'll call my driver and you can go by her room tonight, before she leaves. Tell her--"
"It's not *about* Chloe!"
Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
It falls remarkably like a very large elephant does when you didn't realize it was there until it's sitting on you. Like--this. Like no air and lots of weight and Lex isn't saying anything.
"What?" If Lex were sober, he'd know. He'd have figured it out, but Lex isn't sober, and that's good. So good. Incredibly good.
And Clark sits down, because he can't think of anything else to do. Though flying back to his dorm does rate on the list of pleasant possibilities, and okay, he's not as sober as he thinks he is.
It's hard to turn and face Lex now, but he has to. Meet blue eyes that are about as confused as he feels, and it's so damn easy to touch the leg closest, just for a second, Lex has never minded when Clark touches him. Never.
"Haven't you--" Clark stops, letting out a breath. "Haven't you ever been confused?"
"My life to date," Lex answers, but his gaze isn't fixing exactly. For all Clark knows, Lex isn't in the room at all. "It's not figuring things out that's the point. It's just deciding to do it whether or not you know why."
Maybe elephants should always fall on Clark. Lex is close enough to breathe in, orange juice and clean skin and the faintest traces of Lena's perfume, and to hell with understanding and to hell with why and what the fuck, to hell with change too. He wants this one for himself.
Lex tastes like orange juice and brandy and like something Clark's been dying for all of his life and never knew it. Warm, sweet, soft, God, so soft, so perfect and he doesn't have to deal if he doesn't have to think. It's jealousy, if he admits it to himself, and he can't justify what he's doing, so he's not going to. And Lex--seconds of shock, seconds of nothing, seconds of time that don't exist outside Clark's utterly frozen mind before fingers are in his hair and pulling him closer, and Lex is kissing him back.
Kissing him *back*, on this couch, in this room, and he's got Lex's attention, all of it. The shifts of his body so they're closer together, less of a reach to touch, the way Lex moves against him like it's been something his body's been trained to do. Open mouth and slick tongue and tight, tight fingers holding Clark like he might back out, like he might pull away.
Like Lex has been starving for this, and Clark thinks he has been, too.
Lex pulls way with a wet sound that sends a shock straight into Clark's cock. Blurred blue eyes trying to focus, but he isn't letting go.
"This--is a bad idea," Lex murmurs, but he's licking his lips like he's looking for Clark's taste there still.
"Don't think." Easier than talking to get Lex down, warm and pliable and pale on leather, slim, muscled body just waiting for Clark. He trails curious fingers down Lex's face, across soft lips that catch the tip, sucking it into his mouth, and Lex closes his eyes. Clark braces an arm against the headrest, leaning down, pulling his fingers away to taste that mouth again, getting a knee between Lex's legs and grinding down, the way he likes it, the way he knows *works*, and gets a soft groan for it, making him do it again. His free hand's fumbling the buttons on Lex's shirt loose, revealing inches of pale, pale skin and another bruise Clark hadn't thought to look for. They stare at each other, endless seconds on the edge of something that could, would, will change everything.
Lex's phone rings, and it breaks the lock. Lex sits up, pulling away from Clark's limp hands, curling in on himself as he reaches for the phone, pausing to blink himself into some kind of sobriety and then takes it off the hook.
"Luthor speaking. Lena. No, I'm awake." There's a pause and Clark focuses his hearing, listening...
"...if you're not busy, I can come by tonight after the opera."
Clark's eyes flicker to the old-fashioned grandfather clock in the corner. Eleven.
"I--" Lex looks at him and Clark breathes out, locking with blue eyes and Lex said it a long time ago, the trick in getting something you want is knowing when to ask, what moment to use, what pressure to apply.
How hard to push. How much you want it.
It's. Change. "Lie."
Three Impossible Things
Pairing: Clark/Lex, Clark/Chloe, Lex/OFC
Length: 32,000
Author on LJ:
seperisAuthor Website: http://seperis.illuminatedtext.com
Why this must be read:
Other than being incredibly well written and executed, there are places in this fic where you can feel the pain and the want and the desperation that Clark is feeling. In my opinion it’s one of the most epic and classic Clark and Lex coming together story.
"Change is inevitable." But Lex is watching him, carefully. "You do know that Lena doesn't change anything with us?"
He really doesn't think Lex is psychic, just really damn good at assessment. Drunk, high, stone sober, none of it stops that mind from moving. Nothing changes except her shoes and bracelets and the way she reads Lex's smiles and the way he smiles for her. The fact he has a blue car and a blue vase. The way she fits so perfectly into his life like she'd been created just for that slot. This apartment. His world.
"Of course not." And he knows his voice is giving him away and can't help it. Quickly, he shakes his head. "I'm being stupid, I know. Just--" Fuck. Dammit. "I like her."
"She's very likable." He can almost feel Lex trying to read him, but it's a night involving alcohol and Lex isn't going to be on top of his game in any way, shape, or form, not if Clark works to make sure Lex can't read him. "Clark...."
"I like her, okay? She's--good for you." Good for him, good for Chloe, not so great for Clark, but two out of three isn't bad. "She's nice and she's sweet and she's intelligent and Chloe thinks she's just great--" Fuck. Chloe. Clark swallows hard. "She's great."
"You don't like her." Lex says it slow and thoughtful, but it's mostly alcohol and Clark has a sudden and uncomfortable realization that the crux of this is right *there*. Lena *is* good for Lex. Better by far than any of the others, and she *likes* Lex. Likes the person Lex, likes his friends, doesn't seem to care when she's asked to share her time or her space or her boyfriend and oh God, her *boyfriend*, lover, all the definitions.
"I like her a lot." And he couldn't have sounded less convincing if he'd said he liked lima beans. Oh God. "She's perfect."
"Clark--" Lex is pulling himself all the way up, leaning forward, knee dropping from under Clark's hand and staring at him. They needed more vodka, right here right now, enough to black them *both* out so this conversation never happened.
"I want impossible things," Clark hears himself say and why the fuck isn't he shutting up? "Nothing changing. Or at least, not so fast." And this is fast, even for him, even considering the day he woke up able to actually *fly*, not float, and the day his hearing kicked in and the day he learned he was an alien. All those things, that changed his life so completely, and Chloe had been--God, so natural, fit right into everything so easily and so effortlessly and Lex, he can see it, is moving, just like she is. Clark's the one standing still.
The spoiled fifteen year old in him that's been the focus of Chloe's and Lex's attention for far too long is seriously throwing a fit.
"I should go." Somehow, he gets out from under Lex's leg, on his feet, swaying a little as the remains of the alcohol rush his head. Vision sparkles and dances in and out of x-ray, enough to make him dizzy.
"Don't even think about it." Lex braces a hand on the back of the sofa. "Clark, stop. Look at me. Just--"
"It's--a bad night," Clark says, as if it'll explain it, but it really doesn't. Not at all. Lex gives up on the standing, which is good because his balance is worse off than Clark's. "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize." Lex's diction is always so damn good, even when he's drunk, and he's very, very drunk. A look confirms it, and there's a chance Lex won't remember any of this in the morning. That was a *lot* of vodka. "You're not going anywhere. Sit the fuck down."
"Lex--"
"If it's that damn important, I'll call my driver and you can go by her room tonight, before she leaves. Tell her--"
"It's not *about* Chloe!"
Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
It falls remarkably like a very large elephant does when you didn't realize it was there until it's sitting on you. Like--this. Like no air and lots of weight and Lex isn't saying anything.
"What?" If Lex were sober, he'd know. He'd have figured it out, but Lex isn't sober, and that's good. So good. Incredibly good.
And Clark sits down, because he can't think of anything else to do. Though flying back to his dorm does rate on the list of pleasant possibilities, and okay, he's not as sober as he thinks he is.
It's hard to turn and face Lex now, but he has to. Meet blue eyes that are about as confused as he feels, and it's so damn easy to touch the leg closest, just for a second, Lex has never minded when Clark touches him. Never.
"Haven't you--" Clark stops, letting out a breath. "Haven't you ever been confused?"
"My life to date," Lex answers, but his gaze isn't fixing exactly. For all Clark knows, Lex isn't in the room at all. "It's not figuring things out that's the point. It's just deciding to do it whether or not you know why."
Maybe elephants should always fall on Clark. Lex is close enough to breathe in, orange juice and clean skin and the faintest traces of Lena's perfume, and to hell with understanding and to hell with why and what the fuck, to hell with change too. He wants this one for himself.
Lex tastes like orange juice and brandy and like something Clark's been dying for all of his life and never knew it. Warm, sweet, soft, God, so soft, so perfect and he doesn't have to deal if he doesn't have to think. It's jealousy, if he admits it to himself, and he can't justify what he's doing, so he's not going to. And Lex--seconds of shock, seconds of nothing, seconds of time that don't exist outside Clark's utterly frozen mind before fingers are in his hair and pulling him closer, and Lex is kissing him back.
Kissing him *back*, on this couch, in this room, and he's got Lex's attention, all of it. The shifts of his body so they're closer together, less of a reach to touch, the way Lex moves against him like it's been something his body's been trained to do. Open mouth and slick tongue and tight, tight fingers holding Clark like he might back out, like he might pull away.
Like Lex has been starving for this, and Clark thinks he has been, too.
Lex pulls way with a wet sound that sends a shock straight into Clark's cock. Blurred blue eyes trying to focus, but he isn't letting go.
"This--is a bad idea," Lex murmurs, but he's licking his lips like he's looking for Clark's taste there still.
"Don't think." Easier than talking to get Lex down, warm and pliable and pale on leather, slim, muscled body just waiting for Clark. He trails curious fingers down Lex's face, across soft lips that catch the tip, sucking it into his mouth, and Lex closes his eyes. Clark braces an arm against the headrest, leaning down, pulling his fingers away to taste that mouth again, getting a knee between Lex's legs and grinding down, the way he likes it, the way he knows *works*, and gets a soft groan for it, making him do it again. His free hand's fumbling the buttons on Lex's shirt loose, revealing inches of pale, pale skin and another bruise Clark hadn't thought to look for. They stare at each other, endless seconds on the edge of something that could, would, will change everything.
Lex's phone rings, and it breaks the lock. Lex sits up, pulling away from Clark's limp hands, curling in on himself as he reaches for the phone, pausing to blink himself into some kind of sobriety and then takes it off the hook.
"Luthor speaking. Lena. No, I'm awake." There's a pause and Clark focuses his hearing, listening...
"...if you're not busy, I can come by tonight after the opera."
Clark's eyes flicker to the old-fashioned grandfather clock in the corner. Eleven.
"I--" Lex looks at him and Clark breathes out, locking with blue eyes and Lex said it a long time ago, the trick in getting something you want is knowing when to ask, what moment to use, what pressure to apply.
How hard to push. How much you want it.
It's. Change. "Lie."
Three Impossible Things
rec
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I know with more than 300 memories/tags in this fandom, it's easy to miss what's been rec'ced before.
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