Category: Shorty, Story, Slashy, Meaty, Beaty, Bouncy.
Pairing: Clark/Lex
**SPOILERS**: For the "Jitters" preview.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: They belong to Alfred Gough and a whole bunch of other folks.
Lucky them.
Archive: It's yours. Take it. (Please keep name and email attached.)
Summary: A teeny bit of fluff based on the "Jitters" preview. I couldn't
resist. No redeeming value claimed.
SHIVERS by mako
[email protected]
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"CLARK!"
It was the last word Lex Luthor was ever going to say.
Somehow, it wasn't as awful as he might have imagined.
The word that was -- the situation itself wasn't particularly attractive. In
fact, it was downright horrifying as Lex's palms burned against the metal
girders that kept him clinging to life. A shiver of bending steel jerked
through his arms, which were starting to feel as though they were being torn
from their sockets, one centimeter at a time.
"Lex!" Clark's panicked cry echoed off the plant's walls. "Hold on!"
Right. As if he had a choice. "Claaark!" More of whine now and he really
thought his arms were going to rip off in messy chunks of lavender covered
flesh.
Son of a ...
Lex stretched back to watch as the younger man crawled toward him on all
fours, desperation etched into his features. Clark looked awful -- ashen,
sick and this close to dead, but he kept going, heedless of the danger.
A part of Lex's brain rebelled at the sight. Let me go, Clark, he thought,
edging toward the dark pit that was hysteria. It's okay. You saved me once
before, twice is one time too many.
Save yourself. Just let me go.
Luckily, Clark didn't hear any such traitorous thoughts. He inched to the
end of the tipping bridge and grabbed at Lex's wrist with an iron grip.
Searing pain, and Lex scrabbled toward the touch but his legs found no
purchase against the weightless air. They churned uselessly beneath him and
he slipped further down the unforgiving metal to where two hundred feet below
... death waited.
Lex tried to turn his head. Strained to catch a glimpse of Clark's face
before he fell. If he were granted only one more sight in life, that was the
one he wanted -- the one he didn't know if he could die without, let alone
live without.
But death wasn't in the cards just yet. A brutal, heart-stopping pull toward
the ceiling and his entire body wrenched upwards to where he tumbled onto the
cold metal landing, gasping and spent.
He lives. Again.
Lex fought against the urge to vomit and the world swam in his vision --
except for the achingly vivid sight of Clark stretched out beside him,
unmoving, blue eyes darting disturbingly beneath half-closed lids. He was
unconscious and his normally healthy skin was a strange greenish tint -- the
color of dying corn.
Terrified, Lex ran shaking hands over Clark's neck and chest, searching for a
heartbeat.
He found none.
No. Please. He'sdeadhe'sdeadhe'dead ...
Another wrenching tear of metal and Lex's survival instinct flared to life.
He rose on shaking legs, shoved his arms beneath Clark's and began to drag
him, an inch at a time over what was left of the catwalk, to the door where
freedom -- and life -- waited.
Unfortunately, Clark's six feet four of dead weight wasn't cooperating and
the ground grew more unstable by the second. The sound of breaking metal
shrieked from far away and Lex knew the race against death had begun.
"Listen up, Clark," Lex grunted as he heaved. "You're going to live whether
you want to or not. Luthors don't take 'no' for an answer and you're not
going to be the first to get away with it. So move it or lose it, pal."
No answer and the cracked framework wobbled like a broken toy. Lex grabbed a
side railing out of fear, then shook it off before continuing their slow
march toward safety. "Playing hard to get, huh?" Lex's breath rattled
painfully in his chest. "Fine. Wait till you want me to do something for
you, buddy. You're gonna be waiting days, no, weeks."
Clark's leg slipped off the side and he moaned.
Another yank to balance the body in his arms and Lex blinked sweat from his
eyes. "Okay. Maybe not weeks, hell, not even days. An hour at the most.
Of course, that depends on what you want."
Hoarsely, and the world continued to tilt sickeningly to one side. Lex
ignored the stitch in his ribs and concentrated instead on the precious life
in his arms. "I mean," he rasped, every muscle in his body protesting
loudly. "If you want something less strenuous than yanking my ass out of the
grave and getting it into someplace more comfortable such as a warm bed or
somewhere like that, then you might not have to wait at all."
His balance failed. Lex slipped on a loose girder but continued to pull,
using his falling body weight to gain yet another inch. He landed hard on
his spine but he bit down the pain and kept moving ... and talking.
"Come on, Clark. I promise you, the second we get off this damn thing and
back into the house, I'm going to tuck you into the warmest
one-hundred-percent cotton sheets you've ever felt. I'll even make some mel
ted chocolate or cocoa or whatever that crap is and feed it to you one
spoonful at a time," he wheezed. "Then I'll climb in next to you -- just for
body heat purposes, mind you."
He looked down and saw Clark's eyes, suddenly wide open with what could only
have been surprise. "So, how about it?" Lex asked as the crashing grew
louder, girder after girder twisting toward the ground. "Wanna go to bed
with me?"
"Okay," replied Clark weakly before tottering to his feet and shoving Lex
through the doorway, ten yards beyond the shattering ledge, with a burst of
energy that was nothing short of amazing.
A bulldozer couldn't have knocked the air out of Lex more efficiently. He
gulped, then coughed, then cringed as the entire Level Three structure
collapsed in front of them, including the part where he and Clark were
struggling to escape mere seconds before.
How many lives did the black cat have again?
Lex lay back and closed his eyes. Tried to will his heart to slow down and
almost had it within a sane range when something warm and soft and wonderful
pressed against his lips.
Lex's eyes flew open and he saw a familiar sight.
Clark, leaning over him, his hair damp -- looking more beautiful than any
angel had a right to. "Just making sure you were alive," he said, with an
oddly shy grin.
Lex shivered and reached up, pulling Clark to him. "Oh, I'm alive," he
replied before returning the kiss. "Although the word hardly does it
justice."
A grin. "So, does that invite still stand?"
Shy voice, lust-filled eyes and Lex wondered if maybe he -had- died and gone
to a Heaven that deserved much better than a rogue like himself.
Much, much better. "Yes. Always."
"Good." More kisses then and the world could collapse into darkness as far
as Lex Luthor was concerned so long as Clark was always ...
The last thing on his lips.
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end
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