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Eight Crazy Nights: Smallville
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runpunkrun: Clark/Lex with Lex in the White House or campaigning or leaving the White House(!).
“It’s traditional,” Clark repeated. Lex had taught him many things (among them: always check under the vehicle; you never know what or who’s hitching a ride or planning to explode or both), but primarily Lex had taught him patience. Lex liked to talk over his position on any given subject in numbing detail, and he wasn’t entirely clear on the scope of ‘things Lex can’t change and must accept,’ though in fairness neither was the rest of the universe. Point being, this wasn’t the first time Lex had complained about the upcoming ritual, and it was far too much to hope that it would be the last.
Sure enough: “It’s humiliating,” Lex said, rejecting the tie he was examining by throwing it to the floor. “I know I have to leave. It’s in the Constitution. I don’t see why I have to roll out the welcome mat.”
“Um, because peaceful transitions are a hallmark of a well-functioning democracy?” Clark suggested.
Lex snarled, his head bowed as he pretended to search for a more acceptable tie. Maybe Clark shouldn’t have used a phrase so similar to the language with which he’d promoted campaign finance reform. “Standing there with her husband and two point four kids and a dog. Just because I stumped for her doesn’t mean I have to be happy for her.”
Clark gave up on trying to lift Lex’s mood with the power of his mind and approached, putting his arms around Lex’s waist and hooking his chin over Lex’s shoulder. “If you behave, I’ll take you someplace nice for a vacation.”
“I’m sure that’ll help when she accidentally starts a nuclear war,” Lex grumped. He’d been the one to explain to Clark that the new president couldn’t possibly appoint him Secretary of State, or even ambassador to some important country, in case the lines of command got confused. Clark knew that he was still plotting to retain his influence, and probably he would, but losing his army was going to be rough on his self-concept.
Clark nipped at his ear. “You know you don’t really think that will happen.” Lex didn’t have any hair to grey, and his early Kryptonite exposure meant that his face was largely unlined despite the years. But he was tired—eight years tired, including five global disasters, one alien invasion, three full-blown assassination plots, and a few times Clark had thought that Lex might drop the bomb. Lex needed to get back in the lab, maybe pick up a real Nobel (the Peace Prize, he insisted, didn’t count).
Lex made a low sound and settled back against Clark’s body, letting Clark take all his weight with the confidence in Clark’s strength that he’d had from the very beginning. Clark moved his lips down the side of Lex’s throat. “We’ve still got the room for twenty more minutes,” he suggested. He could make the bed at superspeed, if necessary.
“Fine,” Lex said, the ungraciousness muted by the way his hips were already starting to move and his hands were clutching blindly back at Clark’s thighs. “But you have to be the one who tells them how smart the dog is and how friendly the kids are.”
“Sure, Lex,” Clark said agreeably, because overall, the state of the union was good.
runpunkrun: Clark/Lex with Lex in the White House or campaigning or leaving the White House(!).“It’s traditional,” Clark repeated. Lex had taught him many things (among them: always check under the vehicle; you never know what or who’s hitching a ride or planning to explode or both), but primarily Lex had taught him patience. Lex liked to talk over his position on any given subject in numbing detail, and he wasn’t entirely clear on the scope of ‘things Lex can’t change and must accept,’ though in fairness neither was the rest of the universe. Point being, this wasn’t the first time Lex had complained about the upcoming ritual, and it was far too much to hope that it would be the last.
Sure enough: “It’s humiliating,” Lex said, rejecting the tie he was examining by throwing it to the floor. “I know I have to leave. It’s in the Constitution. I don’t see why I have to roll out the welcome mat.”
“Um, because peaceful transitions are a hallmark of a well-functioning democracy?” Clark suggested.
Lex snarled, his head bowed as he pretended to search for a more acceptable tie. Maybe Clark shouldn’t have used a phrase so similar to the language with which he’d promoted campaign finance reform. “Standing there with her husband and two point four kids and a dog. Just because I stumped for her doesn’t mean I have to be happy for her.”
Clark gave up on trying to lift Lex’s mood with the power of his mind and approached, putting his arms around Lex’s waist and hooking his chin over Lex’s shoulder. “If you behave, I’ll take you someplace nice for a vacation.”
“I’m sure that’ll help when she accidentally starts a nuclear war,” Lex grumped. He’d been the one to explain to Clark that the new president couldn’t possibly appoint him Secretary of State, or even ambassador to some important country, in case the lines of command got confused. Clark knew that he was still plotting to retain his influence, and probably he would, but losing his army was going to be rough on his self-concept.
Clark nipped at his ear. “You know you don’t really think that will happen.” Lex didn’t have any hair to grey, and his early Kryptonite exposure meant that his face was largely unlined despite the years. But he was tired—eight years tired, including five global disasters, one alien invasion, three full-blown assassination plots, and a few times Clark had thought that Lex might drop the bomb. Lex needed to get back in the lab, maybe pick up a real Nobel (the Peace Prize, he insisted, didn’t count).
Lex made a low sound and settled back against Clark’s body, letting Clark take all his weight with the confidence in Clark’s strength that he’d had from the very beginning. Clark moved his lips down the side of Lex’s throat. “We’ve still got the room for twenty more minutes,” he suggested. He could make the bed at superspeed, if necessary.
“Fine,” Lex said, the ungraciousness muted by the way his hips were already starting to move and his hands were clutching blindly back at Clark’s thighs. “But you have to be the one who tells them how smart the dog is and how friendly the kids are.”
“Sure, Lex,” Clark said agreeably, because overall, the state of the union was good.
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I also learned a new meaning for 'stumped' (appropriately it had me stumped XD)
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Also, wow, just imagine what Lex's presidential library would look like.
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happy endings (or transitions)
Re: happy endings (or transitions)