Third Smallville Drabble
His cellphone rang. It dragged him out of sleep as he was lunging across the bed, blearily cursing himself for deciding on the queen even while wondering who would be calling him at - Oh. He blinked at the clock, thumbed on the phone. Eleven AM. �Luthor,� he managed, sounding reasonably awake considering he�d had - quick mental arithmetic, sign of exhaustion that he needed the pause - maybe four hours of sleep. �Lex?� his caller responded, neurons pinging a bit faster as he recognized Clark, warm and friendly and hesitant enough that Lex forced his eyes back open. �Hello, Clark,� he said warmly, or anyway he tried for warmly, and then paused, unsure how to continue.
�So, um,� Clark faltered, and Lex cocked his head to the side as though he would need better reception. �Lana�s using the Talon theater to show old movies and foreign stuff, you know?� With barely a pause for Lex�s affirmation. �And anyway she got a hold of this musical she thinks you�d like, it�s called Hedwig, or something, and I thought I�d see if you wanted to maybe go see it today? With me?�
Lex blinked into the sheet, phone pressed hard against his ear. He murmured something, blinked. �I don�t know, Clark,� and maybe his voice was a little slurred. �I�ve seen it off broadway and it didn�t do much for me,� he finished almost dreamily.
�Oh,� Clark said, flatly, disappointment audible. �So, what�re you doing?� he forged on. The Kent men were nothing if not persistent.
�Nothing just now,� Lex said, drifting. His voice felt as though it were coming from someone else, farther away than thought.
�Oh.� Not disappointed, anyway. Just stymied. �You sound kind of tired, you okay?�
�I am a little tired, Clark,� he said. �Things have been busy at the plant.�
�Yeah. That�s cool. I�m kinda tired, too,� Clark said, as if in reassurance, seeming satisfied to take the brunt of the conversation. �Got up at five this morning to help dad.�
�Mm,� Lex breathed. �I�m still in bed,� he said thoughtlessly.
�Lex,� Clark said, voice bright and caught on a mischievous edge. �Lazy, it�s nearly noon.�
�Clark,� he said patiently, or anyway he was trying for patiently. �I didn�t get to bed until five. Or six.� Quick fumble to remember.
�Ouch,� Clark murmured. �You must be exhausted.� And the Kent guilt kicked in. �I�ll let you get back to sleep,� he began, and Lex couldn�t quite find the words to reassure the boy and Clark had hung up and Lex let the phone drop.
He drowsed there for several long moments. Sprawled on top of the sheets. Phone blinking at his half-shut eyes. A current stirred sun-warmed air over his bare thigh. He shivered absently, curled in a little tighter, ignored the vague and growing feeling of wrongness.
He�d just blown off Clark Kent.
Luthors don�t feel guilt, except he wasn�t quite awake enough to ignore its gnaw, like he�d kicked a puppy, not just any puppy on the street but his own pet, loved, maybe a Labrador and faithful as the sunrise looking at him from wounded eyes. He groaned, forced his eyes open and blinked several times rapidly, fingers curling around the phone to dial almost without looking. The phone rang. And rang. Eventually he let it drop, fell back with another groan. He�d just been there. Lex tried again, then wrenched himself out of bed with a scowl and headed to the shower. Once he was awake he�d fix this.