wisdom won from pain

Clark tried calling Whitney several times over the weekend, but he was never there. Or else he was avoiding Clark.

Finally, on Sunday night after the twelfth call, Clark gave up on using the telephone altogether. He told his parents he was going for a run, and then he zipped through the fields, cut around town and ended up at Whitney’s house. He could see a light on upstairs, and then Whitney walked by the window.

Clark picked up a small pebble and aimed carefully, then tossed it ever so lightly. For him, it was a weak throw, but it was enough to tap the window without breaking it. Whitney pushed open the window and stared down at him.

“Kent,” he said.

Clark flinched at the coldness in his voice, and he immediately caught onto the fact that Whitney had used his last name.

“Can I talk to you?”

“Shouldn’t you be out with Lana?”

“What?”

“Just get the hell away from me.” The window slammed shut and the curtain was drawn.

Clark was confused. After what Lana had told him the other night, why was Whitney acting this way?

He tossed another pebble, but no one looked out. Rejection pooled in the pit of his stomach as he turned away from the Fordman house. He started walking down the street, back towards Main Street. The Beanery was now his destination. Chloe and Pete were meeting there to study for a biology test, and Clark needed friends right now. He would have gone to see Lex, but Lex was in Metropolis working with his father.

He was walking with his head down, his jacket collar up around his neck. A breeze rustled through his hair. He was on the last stretch of road before hitting Main Street, ditches on either side, and lots of trees. No one was around, and he thought about superspeeding the last few yards. Just when he was about to take off, he heard the roar of a truck coming up behind him.

He turned around expectantly, wishing and hoping it was Whitney. The truck slowed beside him, and Clark saw Jimmy Travis in the passenger seat. He didn’t know who the driver was, or the two others sitting in the bed of the truck, but he knew they were football players.

“Kent,” Jimmy said, hanging out his window. “Whitney sent us to find you.”

“He did?”

“He wants to talk. Hop in.”

Clark’s skin tingled. He didn’t quite trust the look in Jimmy’s eyes. “Thanks, but I’ll just call him tomorrow.”

“I don’t think you understand,” Jimmy said, chuckling a little.

Jimmy jumped out of the truck, and the two in the back did the same. They surrounded Clark. His brain replayed the day of the Homecoming dance, when Whitney and three others had taken him to the field.

“We hear you have a weakness, Kent,” Jimmy drawled. “And we’re gonna use it.”

Clark didn’t have time to run before Jimmy pulled a meteor rock the size of a golf ball from his pocket. The pain hit him instantly, making his knees buckle. His throat and chest tightened. He gasped and hit the ground.

“Jesus, Whitney was right,” Jimmy said, a grin in his voice.

Clark groaned, trying to focus. Whitney had told them?

He felt himself being picked up; they grabbed his legs, his arms. He was dropped into the bed of the truck, and his head hit the wheel well, sending pinpricks of light before his eyes.

“Stop,” he said, blinking rapidly. “Let me go.”

“But we’re not done with you yet,” Jimmy said.

His sneering face was the last thing Clark saw.

~*~*~

Whitney paced around his bedroom, his movements wild. He knocked into the corner of his desk, sending papers and books flying. He felt like an ass. Why couldn’t he talk to Clark? What if what he’d seen wasn’t true?

The phone on his nightstand rang, startling him. He dove for it.

“Hello? Clark?”

“Nah, man. It’s me.”

“Jimmy? What do you want?”

“We got him, man. We got him.”

“Who?”

“That lying bastard, Kent. Snatched him right up off the side of the road. That meteor rock worked like a charm.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Whitney’s grip on the phone tightened. His knuckles were white with tension.

“I heard you tell Lana her necklace made Kent sick. I wanted to see for myself.”

“Where are you? Jimmy, tell me where you are. Is Clark with you?”

“Forget about him, Whit. He’s out of the picture. You and Lana can get back together.”

“Jesus Christ, what have you done?” Whitney demanded. Jimmy just laughed and ended the call.

Whitney was left holding a dead phone. He stared at it, unable to believe what was happening. Clark was in trouble, and he had to find him before it was too late. He threw the phone down and grabbed his jacket and keys. He was out the door and racing away in seconds.

If Clark had been walking to town, he’d have taken the main road. It was dark now, and Whitney’s headlights were the only light. No other cars were on the road. He slowed down a little when he saw skid marks. They were wide, like the wheels on a truck. He stopped his truck and got out. The gravel near that spot was spread onto the pavement. It looked like someone had been dragged away.

“Clark,” Whitney whispered.

He got back in his truck and raced into town. He knew Clark’s friends liked to hang out at The Beanery. He had to check if they’d seen him. Maybe he’d escaped. Maybe.

“Chloe! Pete!” he exclaimed, rushing to their table. “Have you seen Clark?”

“Clark? What do you want him for?” Chloe asked, her eyebrows raised.

“Have you seen him?” Whitney repeated.

“No, he hasn’t been in. Why? What’s wrong?”

Whitney ignored her questions and left. He ran up and down both sides of Main Street, asking everyone if they’d seen Clark. No one had.

Did he dare call Clark’s parents?

His fear for Clark’s safety was threatening to smother him. He couldn’t think straight. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of red and yellow. Smallville High colors. Jimmy and his goonies were coming out of a shoe store down the street.

“Jimmy. Jimmy will tell me,” Whitney muttered.

He ran towards them, his palms sweating. Jimmy saw him and grinned. Whitney plowed a fist into that smile, sending Jimmy to the ground.

“Where is he?” Whitney screamed, pulling the other man up by his collar. “You sick fuck, where is he?”

Jimmy’s friends tried to pull Whitney away, but it was no use. His rage was like extra strength, empowering him.

“I swear to God, I’ll bash your face in if you don’t tell me. Those meteor rocks can kill him!”

Jimmy’s lip was bleeding. “What do you care? He broke you and Lana up. We thought you’d be grateful.”

“Grateful if you kill him? Lana and I broke up because I wanted to. It’s none of your business. Where is he?” Whitney hissed. Jimmy began to shake.

“Th-the Talon. Upstairs.”

The Talon had been closed for years now, an old movie theater that was rumored to become a new parking lot. There was an apartment upstairs.

“You’re not lying?”

“No, I swear.”

Whitney threw Jimmy to the ground and took off running. The front doors were locked, so Whitney went to the back. Those were locked too. How the hell had they gotten inside?

The fire escape. Whitney climbed the stairs and tried the door. A wide piece of wood was wedged between the knob and the doorjamb. He kicked it with the heel of his shoe; the door opened.

“Clark! Where are you?” he yelled.

The apartment had been empty as long as the theater. Dust cloths covered the furniture. He tried the power switch but got nothing.

“Clark!” He could hear the fear in his voice, and he hated it.

Tripping his way through the living room, he made it to the narrow hallway. He cursed himself for not bringing a flashlight. He checked the first bedroom. Empty.

Clark was in the second bedroom at the end of the hall.

“Oh shit,” Whitney whispered.

Clark had been stripped down to his boxers and tied spread-eagle on the bed. His clothes were piled on the floor. Two strips of gray duct tape covered his mouth. Faint moonlight peeked through the thin curtains, but the real light was coming from the meteor rock taped to Clark’s bare chest.

“Clark, can you hear me? Please be okay, please,” Whitney rambled, gently pulling the tape from Clark’s mouth. “Say something, please.”

“Wh-whitney, I’m s-sorry.” The words were barely audible.

Whitney almost screamed in frustration when he saw Jimmy and his friends hadn’t just taped the rock to Clark’s chest - they had wrapped the tape all the way around his lower abdomen several times. He couldn’t pull it off.

“I’ll be right back, just hang on,” he cried. He ran back to the kitchen, fumbling through the drawers for a knife. Nothing. He checked the cabinets. A stack of plates and two glasses sat there. He grabbed a heavy plate and smashed it against the counter, breaking it into shards. He grabbed a ratty handtowel and picked up a piece.

“I’m back, I’m here, Clark. I’m going to get you out of here.”

He began to saw at the tape with the broken plate until it broke free. He threw the rock out the window.

“Whitney, I’m sorry,” Clark said. He was thrashing his head from side to side. His body was weak and slick with sweat. “I’m sorry.”

Whitney untied the ropes that held him down and cradled Clark in his arms.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m the asshole.”

But Clark was out. Whitney panicked, thinking he had slipped into unconsciousness. Gently, Whitney rubbed Clark’s hands, trying to bring warmth back to the skin.

“Tired,” Clark mumbled.

Whitney breathed a deep sigh of relief. The green veins were returned to normal, and it didn’t appear like Clark was sick anymore.

Footsteps on the metal fire escape stairs made Whitney jump. Clark remained asleep.

“Clark, Whitney, are you in here?” Pete called out.

Chloe and Pete appeared in the doorway. Chloe gasped and dug out her cell phone.

“Don’t call anyone,” Whitney said. “He’s going to be okay.”

“I’m calling the police. Who did this?” Chloe demanded, her voice trembling.

“Chloe, please. Clark’s affected by the meteor rocks. Do you really want someone poking and prodding him like he’s some kind of freak?” Whitney pleaded. “Just help me get him home.”

Pete seemed unsure of what to do. Chloe reluctantly put away her phone.

“Then would you mind telling me what the hell is going on?” she asked, walking over to the bed. She perched on the edge and brushed hair from Clark’s forehead.

“Jimmy thought he was getting back at Clark for me. He thought Clark was the reason Lana and I broke up,” Whitney explained.

“Those bastards. I’m gonna beat them to pulps,” Pete said, clenching his fists.

“Okay, I’m still confused here,” Chloe said. Her eyes were wide. “How did you know?”

“Jimmy called me.”

Whitney looked down at Clark. He knew Chloe wanted answers, but he needed to get Clark out of there.

“Pete, will you go get my truck? It’s parked down the street. Bring it around to the alley, and I’ll take Clark home.” He tossed Pete his keys.

Once Pete was gone, Chloe started in again. “Whitney, if you’re responsible for this, I’ll personally kick your ass.”

Whitney sighed and reached for Clark’s clothes. With Chloe’s help, he got his jeans and shirt on. “Chloe, I didn’t. I care about Clark. A lot.” The emphasis was on the last two words.

Chloe stared. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“In a way, Clark was the reason for my breakup with Lana. Because I wanted to be with him instead.”

“Holy shit.”

“Look, the only people that know this are Clark, you and Lana. You can tell Pete, but that’s it.”

“I won’t say a word. I promise.”

Pete returned. “Let’s go. Truck’s in the alley.”

Very carefully, Whitney picked up Clark and carried him out. Clark murmured unintelligible words against Whitney’s chest.

“Shh, I’m taking you home. You’re safe now,“ Whitney whispered. He set Clark inside the truck and buckled him in.

“Do you want us to go with you?” Pete asked.

“No. Go home. I’ll call you both tomorrow. Thanks for your help.”

Pete was going to object, but Chloe took his arm. “I’ll explain it to you.”

Whitney started driving to the Kent farm. Halfway there, Clark groggily opened his eyes. “Where are we going?”

“Home.”

“My home or your home?”

“Yours.”

Clark looked down at himself. “My shirt’s on inside out.”

Whitney felt the laugh bubbling deep inside his chest. It erupted from his mouth and quickly turned to sobs. His whole body shook and he was forced to pull over.

“Whitney?” Clark’s voice was tentative.

Whitney scrubbed at his eyes, then turned and pulled Clark into a crushing hug. He continued to cry as Clark rubbed his back in slow, soothing circles.

“It’s okay,” Clark whispered. “I’m okay. You’re okay.”

~*~*~

“Should we tell your parents?” Whitney asked, looking up at the house.

“God no. They freak out about me enough as it is,” Clark said. “I’ll go inside and change clothes and meet you in the loft.”

“You want me to stick around?”

“We need to talk.” Clark opened the door and jumped out. He jogged up the steps and disappeared inside the house.

Whitney walked into the barn, surprised at the warmth and the sweet smell of hay. He made his way up the steps to the loft and collapsed on the couch. He was so exhausted, he didn’t know if he’d still be awake when Clark returned. The past week had been so draining, even worse than a week before a big football game.

“Whitney?”

“Whoa, that was fast.”

Clark looked fresh, like he’d showered. But Whitney knew that was impossible. He wore a white t-shirt and jeans, and he smelled like strawberries. Not a typical teenage boy scent, but on Clark, it worked.

“I brought soda and the rest of my mom’s cherry pie. Are you hungry?”

“Yes,” Whitney said, moving to the desk.

Clark cut pieces from the pie and placed them on small plates. He handed one to Whitney.

“Clark, I didn’t tell Jimmy about the meteor rocks.”

“You didn’t?”

“He heard me tell Lana about them. She’s going to stop wearing her necklace around you. I had no idea Jimmy heard anything. And I certainly didn’t tell him to go after you.” Whitney shivered. “You must have thought I’d betrayed you. I’m so sorry.”

“I was so scared. It was like Homecoming all over again.” Clark’s hands shook slightly.

Whitney set his plate down and placed his hands on Clark’s arms. “I can’t apologize enough for that night. It’s a stupid tradition, and I got caught up in it. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know.” Clark steadied himself and smiled at Whitney.

They sat down on the couch.

“Why were you avoiding me?” Clark asked.

Whitney sighed. “This is going to sound really stupid, but I came over here after I broke up with Lana. She was here, and you were hugging her. I thought you’d changed your mind and decided to try your luck with her after all.”

“I told you I wouldn’t.”

“I know that now. Jesus, I suck at this.”

“What?”

“This!” Whitney waved his hand around. “This relationship thing. With Lana, it was pretty basic. With you, it’s complicated.”

“I don’t mean to be complicated.”

“I think it’s me. I’m still trying to be comfortable in my own skin.”

“You and me both.”

They ate their pie and Clark stacked the plates on the desk.

“So now what?” Whitney asked.

“That’s up to you.”

“Oh. Well, I think you should know,” Whitney said, “I told Chloe about us. She’s going to explain it to Pete. I hope that’s okay with you.”

“It’s fine.”

Whitney looked Clark over. “It’s hard to believe you were so sick an hour ago.”

“Those meteor rocks are crazy. I don’t know why they affect me like that. Hey, do you want to see some stars?”

Clark took Whitney’s hand and guided him to the telescope.

“Just look through there,” he said.

Whitney bent and put his eye to the telescope. “It’s beautiful up there. Can you name all the constellations?”

“Mostly. See that one? That’s Pegasus, the Winged Horse. Pegasus also became known as the ‘Thundering Horse of Jove.’ He carried lightning bolts for Zeus.”

Clark pointed out a few others, and Whitney found himself getting caught up in Clark’s appreciation of the stars. At one point, Clark was peering through the telescope, chattering away, when Whitney gently lifted his face by the chin and kissed him.

Clark’s lips were soft and they fit against his own perfectly. Whitney darted his tongue in and out of Clark’s mouth and Clark did the same.

“Wow, you’re a good kisser,” Clark breathed when they came up for air.

“I have a good partner.”

They smiled, holding each other in a tender embrace.

“So,” Whitney cleared his throat. “You wanna go out sometime?”

“I would love to.”

“Metropolis okay? I don’t think Smallville’s quite ready for us yet.”

Clark laughed. “Metropolis is great.”

They kissed again.

~*~*~

School was different the next day, in that Clark couldn’t keep the smile off his face. Whitney had left before ten to go home, promising to talk to him at school. They had spent their time together just talking, and maybe kissing a little. They went no further than making out, even though both of them wanted more. But they decided to take things slow and see where things lead. Pete and Chloe were waiting for him at his locker.

“Are you all right?” Chloe asked, concern etched around her eyes. “After last night…”

“I’m fine, really.”

Pete eyed him carefully. “Chloe told me you and Whitney, that you two, um-”

“It’s true. But we’re trying to keep it low key for now. We’re not ready for the world to know yet.”

“Sure, cool. I understand.”

Clark pulled books from the top shelf of his locker. “I’m glad you two are okay with this. I know it’s sudden.”

“Clark, your secret is safe with us,” Chloe said, putting her hand on his arm. “Now if we could just figure out a way to get back at Jimmy and his stupid friends.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not going to,𔄙Clark said. He slammed his locker shut and zipped his backpack. “I’m ready for that biology test, how about you?”

Pete snorted. “Our studying mood kind of got killed last night. I think I see a D in my future.”

The trio went to their first hour class and prepared to take the test. Twenty minutes into it, an announcement from Principal Kwan came over the intercom.

“Will students Jimmy Travis, Lloyd Preston, Mitchell Ivory and Clint Larson please report to the principal’s office, immediately.”

Chloe, Pete and Clark exchanged worried glances. Why were Jimmy and his friends being called to the principal’s office? Had someone told the authorities they’d attacked Clark?

That spoiled Clark’s concentration for the rest of the test. He knew his grade would suffer, but he couldn’t help it. He was scared.

The bell rang, signaling the end of first hour. Everyone handed in their tests, and Chloe shook her head as they left.

“That announcement couldn’t have come at a worse time. It was like a wet blanket over my brain. I think I failed,” she said.

“Coming through please, step aside, out of the way,” came a gruff voice behind them.

The three moved to the side, along with the rest of the students in the hallway. Three uniformed police officers were leading Jimmy and his friends away. All were handcuffed, and all of them had their heads down.

“What the heck is this?” Chloe asked, digging her digital camera from her bag. She hurried after them, firing questions at the officers.

As Jimmy passed, he looked up at Clark. “Sorry, man,” he mumbled.

Clark swallowed. He didn’t know what to say.

“You are not going to believe this!” Chloe squealed, coming back to them. “The police received an anonymous tip this morning that Jimmy and his friends had pot in their lockers. They’ve been arrested for possession of a controlled substance. Look at these pictures I got!”

Clark frowned. “Who would have called the police?”

“I did.”

They turned around to see Whitney standing behind them. “I’m the only one who knew, so they know it was me. It was the only way I knew to get back at them.”

Pete grinned. “Wow, way to go, Whitney. Smooth.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Clark said softly. “I’d already put the whole ordeal behind me.”

“But I hadn’t. I had to do this.”

Chloe nudged Pete, and the two slinked away to the Torch office. The hallway was abuzz with the news, so no one noticed Clark and Whitney having a private conversation.

“Thank you,” Clark said.

Whitney nodded. “So. I have a busy week ahead of me, tests and papers due, game on Friday night, but I’m free Saturday. Are you?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I’ll call you.”

Whitney pushed himself away from the wall and walked away, but not before brushing his hip against Clark’s. Clark beamed for the rest of the day.

~*~*~

Whitney called every night, and dropped by on Friday before the game. Clark’s parents were polite, if not a little bit confused as to the sudden friendship between their son and the popular quarterback.

They were up in the loft, leaning out the window and watching the fields. Clark liked the peacefulness that farm life held, and often wondered if this was his destiny.

“I’ll pick you up around noon tomorrow, and we’ll drive to Metropolis,” Whitney said.

“Sounds good. What should I wear?”

“Nothing fancy. Do you have a nice jacket?”

“Sure.”

“That’ll do.”

Clark laughed. “You want me to wear just the jacket?”

Whitney grinned and rested his head on Clark’s shoulder. “Don’t get me started, farmboy.”

“Clark! Are you ready to go?” yelled from outside.

“Yeah, Mom, just a second,” Clark called back.

“Where are you going?” Whitney asked.

“The game. We’re going to cheer on the team.”

“I thought you usually skipped the games.”

“I did. But there’s a certain quarterback that I want to see in action.”

Whitney hugged Clark. “Do I get a good luck kiss?”

“Of course.”

The Crows won that night, 35 to zip.

~*~*~

Whitney’s nervousness was almost palpable as he pulled up to Clark’s house. He checked himself over for about the millionth time since leaving his house. His jeans and white shirt were new, and his navy blue blazer was freshly drycleaned. He’d told his parents he was going into Metropolis with friends and to not expect him home until later that evening. They hadn’t asked about his clothes.

Whitney knocked on the front door, wondering if he should have brought flowers or something. Then he laughed. Sure, this was a date, but not the typical boy picks up girl kind of date.

“Whitney, hi,” Martha Kent said, letting him in. “Clark’s upstairs, but he’ll be down in a minute. Can I get you something to drink?”

“No thanks, Mrs. Kent.”

“So you’re going into Metropolis,” Martha said, guiding him to the living room couch. “Clark hasn’t been there in awhile, he’s really excited.”

Whitney smiled.

“Um, is anyone else going with you?”

The question was innocent, with just a hint of curiosity. Whitney tried not to squirm under Martha’s gaze.

“No ma’am. Just us.”

“It’s good to see you two have become friends.”

“Yeah. Clark’s a great guy.”

God, Clark, hurry up, he thought, eyeing the ceiling. This was worse than when Nell grilled him on his first date with Lana.

“Whitney!”

Whitney jumped up and looked to the stairs. Clark was coming down them, dressed similarly to him in jeans, crisp blue shirt and a black blazer.

“Well don’t you two look nice,” Martha said. “A little dressed up for Metropolis though, don’t you think?”

“Uh, we might hit a couple of the museums,” Clark said, smiling uneasily. “Well, we better get going.”

Martha told them to drive safely and have fun. She stood on the porch and waved as Whitney drove away.

“God, I think I need more deodorant,” Whitney said, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

“I’m going to have to tell her and my dad sometime. I just don’t know how they’ll react to this.”

“Hopefully better than my dad. I want to be as far away as possible when I tell him.”

“Will he freak out?”

“Most likely. But let’s talk about other stuff.”

The drive to Metropolis took about three hours. The conversation never died between them, and they even sang along to some songs on the radio.

“You really suck,” Clark laughed.

“Yeah, you’re not too much better yourself. Look, we’re here.”

Clark stared out the window as Whitney drove past the Daily Planet and LutherCorp.

“I can never get over how big this city is,“ Clark said. “It’s like a different world.”

“Where to, Clark?” Whitney asked

“I have no idea. I don’t get to come here that often.”

“We could check out a museum, or tour the Daily Planet.”

“They do that?”

“Sure.”

“Chloe would kill me if we didn’t do that.”

“To the Daily Planet then.”

As Whitney pulled into a visitor parking space, Clark asked what Whitney had planned for the evening.

“A nice restaurant, and then wherever the night takes us. Did I tell you you look hot?”

Clark smiled. “Only about a dozen times in the last three hours.”

They walked inside the enormous lobby of the Daily Planet and signed up for a guided tour.

“Aspiring reporters?” the pretty receptionist asked, passing them plastic visitor badges. “We could certainly use some as good-looking as you two.”

Clark coughed and busied himself with pinning on his badge. The next tour started in fifteen minutes, so Whitney and Clark hung out in the lobby, reading the framed front pages that hung on the wall.

“I think she likes you,” Whitney whispered.

“Who?”

“The receptionist. She’s checking out your ass.”

“What?!”

“And what’s not to love. It’s pretty damn cute,” Whitney continued.

“Are you trying to make me blush?”

“It’s not hard.”

“Actually, you have no idea how hard it is.”

“Wha-oh.”

Clark walked away whistling.

~*~*~

Clark got so caught up in the excitement of the paper, he considered helping Chloe out with the Torch more. It was easy to see why she loved it. She was getting the news out there to everyone. She was a link to the rest of the world. The world of reporting was running at superspeed, something Clark could relate to.

After touring the Daily Planet, they went and walked around Metropolis University. The sprawling campus was beautiful, and Whitney was really thrilled to be there.

“I want to go here. Isn’t it awesome? There’s so much life here.”

“What do you want to study?”

“I’m not sure yet. I’ve been thinking about medicine. Hey, don’t look so surprised. Just because I’m a jock doesn’t mean I don’t have a brain,” Whitney said.

“No, I wasn’t thinking that. I just didn’t know you were interested in medicine.”

“I’d like to find out why the meteor rocks affect the people of Smallville. They’ve caused so much damage.”

Clark flinched at the words. He had always felt somewhat responsible for the strange things that happened ever since he’d arrived with the meteors.

Whitney sensed a change of mood from Clark and took his hand. “I don’t think you’re damaged, Clark. I didn’t mean it to sound that way.”

“I didn’t take it that way. I just, I wonder sometimes why they had to fall on Smallville.”

“Me too.”

They peeked in on the football team having a Saturday practice, then drove over to the Metropolis Planetarium. The main exhibit was a huge domed theater with the constellations and planets revolving on the ceiling. A recorded voice went over their origins, but Whitney found it to be rather dull.

“You tell me, Clark,” he whispered, brushing his lips against Clark’s ear.

Clark shivered and began speaking in a low voice so he wouldn’t disturb the other people. Just as he was getting into the good stuff about Aries, he felt a hand sliding under his jacket, touching the small of his back. He looked to Whitney, who was still staring up at the ceiling. His voice faltered a little as Whitney’s hand tugged his shirt from the waistband of his jeans and touched bare skin. Still, Whitney didn’t look at him.

“Um, uh, ooooh,” Clark moaned, then quickly clamped his mouth shut.

“That was a good ’ooh’ right?” Whitney whispered.

“I think we,” Clark gulped and tried again. “I think we should-”

“Leave?”

“Yeah.”

They exited the museum and ran to Whitney’s truck.

“Good thing I parked away from everyone else,” Whitney said. “And oh look. It’s dark out.”

They hopped inside, Clark lying down on the bench seat, Whitney resting on top of him. They began kissing in earnest, hands everywhere. Clark’s foot knocked against the steering wheel, blaring the horn.

“Shit!” Whitney exclaimed, his head popping up. He looked around the parking lot. A couple of people were glancing in their direction. “Maybe this isn’t the best place.”

Clark licked his lips. “Maybe not.”

Whitney moved back and Clark sat up. “I want our first time together to be special, Clark.”

“Really?”

“Yes. You deserve better than a dirty truck in a parking lot.”

“Your truck isn’t dirty.”

“All right. It’s not dirty. But you do deserve better.”

Clark leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on Whitney’s cheek. “All I deserve is you.”

~*~*~

“Here we are.”

“Wow. Is this place expensive?”

Whitney led the way inside the restaurant. “Don’t worry about it. Reservation for Fordman,” he said to the maitre’d. They were taken to a small table near the windows where they had a perfect view of the LutherCorp building.

“Order anything you want, Clark,” Whitney said, seeing the wide-eyed look on Clark’s face as he studied the menu. “I’m serious.”

They ordered, and Whitney noticed Clark chose one of the cheaper meals. He shook his head and smiled. Some things just never changed.

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be rich?” Whitney asked.

“You mean like Lex?”

“Yeah.”

“Sometimes. I’d like to help my parents get out of debt with the farm, but I don’t know how.”

“Lex would probably take care of it for you, if you asked him. You did save his life.”

Clark snorted. “My parents wouldn’t let me keep the truck he gave me. I could just imagine their response if Lex offered to help with the bills.”

“I want to be rich someday,” Whitney said, gazing at the glowing LutherCorp sign. “I don’t want to have to worry about anything, and I don’t want my family to either.”

“Very noble of you, but sometimes it takes more than money.”

“Like love?”

“Like love.”

“Do you think we could have that, Clark?”

Clark didn’t have time to answer as the waiter brought their drinks and dinner salads.

“Well?” Whitney asked, once the waiter was gone.

Clark shook his napkin into his lap. “I don’t know. I’d like to think so, but love is pretty unpredictable. Just a few weeks ago, I wanted nothing more than Lana to love me.”

“And now?”

“Now I want her boyfriend.”

“Ex-boyfriend.”

“Whatever.”

Whitney nodded. “I like your honesty, Clark. Promise me you’ll stay honest with me.”

Clark’s grip on his fork tightened. “Whitney, there are some things about me that you don’t know. I can’t reveal everything at once, but I’ll do my best to protect your feelings.”

“I’m pretty strong, Clark. I think I can handle whatever you want to throw at me.”

Clark certainly hoped so.

They finished dinner and Whitney paid the bill. They left the restaurant and began walking towards a nearby movie theater. There was a film playing they both wanted to see, even though in the back of both their minds, they didn’t really think they’d be watching much.

Metropolis nightlife was in full swing all around them when they left the theater. Couples passed by holding hands, and Clark reached out and took Whitney’s hand in his. Whitney squeezed Clark’s hand. They started walking back towards the restaurant where Whitney’s truck was parked in the public lot a block behind it.

“I had a great time,” Clark said.

“Hold on, the night’s not over yet.”

“Do you have something else planned?”

“Eh, not really. Just a lazy drive back to Smallville.”

They reached the parking lot and Whitney dug around his pants pocket for his keys. Then he started laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“My keys are in my other pocket,” he said, looking down at his left hand, still firmly in Clark’s grasp.

“Should I get them for you?” Clark asked.

Clark pressed Whitney against the back of the truck and dropped a kiss on Whitney’s collarbone. Whitney closed his eyes and sighed. Clark’s mouth moved from his neck down to the exposed skin of his chest. A button popped and Clark’s mouth moved lower.

“Clark,” Whitney moaned.

“Well what do we have here?”

Whitney’s eyes flew open, and Clark whirled around. Three men as big as houses stood there, glaring at them. Clark instantly stepped in front of Whitney, shielding him with his body.

“We were just leaving,” Clark said, his voice hard.

“Back to your little hick town?” one of the men taunted, kicking the license plate on the truck. “How about you leave your wallets here?”

“How about not,” Whitney said, jumping around Clark, fists clenched and ready to fight.

“Please,” another man said. “You think you could take us on?”

“I think you’re a bunch of thugs with no brains,” Whitney said. “Now leave us alone.”

The first man, also the largest, laughed and smashed a beefy fist into Whitney’s face, sending him flying to the hard cement.

“Clark, run,” Whitney mumbled, spitting out blood.

Clark took a step forward, but the first man pulled out a gun and aimed it at Whitney.

“Your wallet, or I shoot your boyfriend,” he instructed.

“I don’t have any money,” Clark said. Anger was rising inside him with each passing second. He knew he could toss these guys into next week with his pinkie finger, but not with Whitney watching.

“Let us see if that’s true,” the man said. He jerked his head towards Whitney. The two others bent to check Whitney’s pockets. They came up with his wallet, and one guy ripped off his watch. “What’s he got?”

“Sixty bucks,” the second thug said. “A credit card, and an ATM card.” He kicked Whitney in the stomach. “What’s your PIN?”

“Fuck off,” Whitney said.

The thug kicked him again.

“Stop it!” Clark yelled, reaching for Whitney. “You’re hurting him!”

“Your wallet, kid,” the first man said to Clark. “Or he won’t feel any pain ever again.”

Clark begrudgingly handed over his wallet. He looked past the thugs, searching for help. Since this parking lot was situated behind the restaurant, it was cut off from the main street. No one was around. Clark had to do something.

“You have our money, now just leave us alone,” he said. “We won’t tell the police.”

“Yeah, you look like a guy that likes to stay hidden,” the first man said. “But he doesn’t.”

Clark watched in horror as the man fired his gun. In that instant, the world slowed to a crawl. Clark saw the bullet leave the chamber, spiraling on a direct path towards Whitney.

Without a second thought, Clark pushed the man into the brick wall behind him, and the other two were sent crashing into cars. Then he dove for Whitney, landing hard on top of him. The bullet bounced off of Clark’s back and ricocheted off the side of another building.

Time returned to normal and Whitney let out a cry, all the breath leaving his body.

“Whitney, talk to me.”

He gasped and opened his eyes. Clark was staring down at him. Whitney turned his head. The guy with the gun was crumpled on the ground, a large dent in the wall behind him. The others were lying on top of crushed cars.

And Clark.

Clark was unhurt.

“I saw...you were hit...the wall...” Whitney stammered. He sat up and stared wide-eyed at Clark. “What are you?”

Clark’s jaw tightened at the question. “Are you all right? Can you stand?”

“I’m fine. A little bruised. You.” Whitney shook his head. “You were hit. I saw it.”

“I was hit,” Clark admitted, helping Whitney up.

“And the wall. How did you-?”

“Whitney, we have to go now. Before the police get here.”

“Okay. Okay, let’s go.”

“Do you want me to drive?”

Whitney nodded and gave Clark his keys, then climbed gingerly into the truck. Clark used his superspeed to dart to each of the thugs and get their wallets. Then he got the hell out of the parking lot as fast as he could without attracting attention. Neither of them spoke until they were safely on the highway heading back to Smallville.

“Do you need ice or something?” Clark asked.

“I’ll be okay. I think we need to talk.”

Clark chewed on his lower lip before saying, “Remember those things about me you don’t know? Well, here goes.”

Whitney listened quietly as Clark told him all about landing in Smallville with the meteors, the spaceship he came in, and all of his powers. The more Clark talked, the softer his voice became, and Whitney could hear the fear creeping in.

“My parents only told me about the spaceship a few weeks ago, right before the Homecoming game,” Clark said, his eyes focused straight ahead on the road. “They didn’t want the authorities to take me away. They just wanted me to be normal. So I try, I try everyday to be normal.” He snorted and glanced sideways at Whitney. “You probably think I’m a freak.”

“Pull over,” Whitney said.

“What?” Clark feared Whitney was going to tell him to get the hell out.

“Pull over. I want to look you in the eye, and I can’t do that while you’re driving.”

Clark stopped on the shoulder as traffic whizzed past them. He put the truck in park, but left it idling. He stared at the dashboard, his lower lip trembling.

“I don’t think you’re a freak,” Whitney said.

“You don’t?”

“No. I think you’re wonderful. And God, this makes so much sense now. I’m amazed you’ve been able to keep this to yourself. I know it must be eating away at you.”

“It’s hard to have no one but my parents to talk to about it. You won’t say anything?”

Whitney cupped Clark’s chin in his hands, forcing Clark to look at him. “I won’t say a word. I don’t want anyone to take you away from me.”

Clark’s shoulders dropped as he let out a relieved breath.

“Now,” Whitney said, a small smile pulling at his lips. “How are we going to explain my black eye?”

~end Part Two

onto Part Three