LIBERTY by mako

Part Seven

[][][][][][]

Clark spent the rest of the evening watching as Lex slept, curled against Clark's pillows, the bruised outline of Lionel's wide hand still visible against his cheek. Wondered how they'd explain the mark to his father, wondered if it was worth bothering -- as if Jonathan didn't hate the elder Mr. Luthor enough already.

It was abuse, plain and simple, and maybe Lex was too used to his father's brand of discipline after so many years, even as an adult. Clark couldn't imagine his own father raising a hand against him -- couldn't imagine what his life would have been like if he's suffered the same way Lex had for what must have been years, perhaps his entire life.

Clark couldn't imagine what sort of person he might have become.

Someone cold ... hard, maybe. A perpetual mask of sarcasm in place, protection at all costs. He'd probably learn how to lie, how to hide in plain sight -- how to manipulate events to go in his favor. A quest for self-preservation continuing long into adulthood, even when the immediate threat was no longer there.

Or not there quite as often.

What a terrible way to live, Clark thought, with a deep sigh. He glanced out the loft window and noticed the faintest brushes of pink against a dark horizon. A few hours until Sunday morning and Clark stretched his limbs out painfully, debating the need for sleep. Sunday was market day and he knew that the entire town would question the rings under his eyes and he'd be too tired to think of a good answer for them, if he could formulate any answer at all.

Maybe an hour or two of sleep would help. That might be enough, Clark thought, as he toed off his shoes and very carefully slid himself onto the narrow strip of bed that was open. He shut his eyes and concentrated on his breathing, trying to let himself sink away into sleep.

He was almost there when he heard a tiny whimper and felt Lex's body curl up against his, the heat rushing over Clark's skin like a blanket. To hell with it, Clark thought, relaxing into the spreading warmth, not even moving when Lex's arm draped itself across his waist. He was tired, he needed some rest and besides ...

It just felt too damned good.

A tiny smile curved over Clark's lips as sleep finally took him under its wing.

[][][][][]

Bright light against his eyelids and Clark grimaced at the sunshine filtering through the blinds. Morning had come and he groaned a little in protest. Seven a.m already and he was going to be late for market preparations. He rose halfheartedly, then plopped back against the bed, mentally insisting on five more minutes of rest.

Felt Lex's arm tighten around his waist and Clark Kent was suddenly, totally, awake.

He peeked over at Lex whose eyes were open, examining him sleepily. "Good morning." No movement made to end the embrace and Clark's heart began to thud against his chest, loud enough to echo through his ears like thunder over waves.

"'Morning," he replied hoarsely. The light was creeping over the bed, it was getting warmer by the minute and Clark turned to face Lex fully, hoping to find something there in his gaze ... some sort of permission to do what he'd intended to the night before.

Just one kiss, if possible and then ...

"We really shouldn't," Lex whispered, but his eyes were hungry.

"Yeah, I know," Clark replied before leaning in and touching Lex's lips with his own. Soft, warm, sweet ... everything he'd imagined they might be as a lightning tingle ran straight to his groin, making muscles tense in places he didn't know muscles existed.

Clark ran his fingers down Lex's cheeks, down the smooth planes of his neck then over his arms, hoping against hope he wasn't making too much of a fool of himself. He was no expert on kissing but took a chance and flicked his tongue against Lex's lips, moaning when the pliant mouth flowered open beneath.

A knowing tongue explored his mouth in return, the sharp tang of sleep on his breath and it was all Clark could do not to pull Lex beneath him, to press down atop him with a body that trembled with anticipation. He wanted this, wanted it so badly and ...

"Clark!"

His mother's voice and Clark nearly jumped out of his skin, losing his balance as he tumbled off of the narrow bed and landed with a huge thunk on the loft's crude wooden floors. "Shit!" he murmured, rubbing his elbow.
��
Lex bolted upright and hastily wiped his mouth with a shaking hand. With one smooth motion, he leapt onto the nearby rollaway cot that was supposed to serve as his bed and landed with an elegant bounce.

"You okay?" he hissed to Clark, who nodded in reply from the floor.

"Clark!" Martha Kent again, this time at the bottom of the loft's staircase. "Wake up, sleepyhead. You know what day it is."

"I'm awake, Mom," Clark yelled back. "I'll be right down."

"All right. And honey, tell Lex to sleep in. At least someone in this house should get a bit of rest on Sunday."

"Okay, Mom!" Clark replied, his heart starting to beat again. He turned to Lex who stared at him with a strange combination of guilt and hysterical laughter. "Oh, shut up," he grumbled.

"I didn't say anything." Lex's eyes danced. "Guess I'm sleeping in, huh?"

"Yeah," said Clark, rubbing his eyes. His mouth was still burning from Lex's kisses and he glanced over at the mirror to see if they were as bruised as they felt. Redder and puffier, yes, but a little cold water would fix that.

As for the other parts of him that burned -- well, he'd just have to deal with them. Later.

"It'll only be a few hours," said Clark apologetically, as he squirmed into a light flannel. "And then ..." He blushed, unable to continue.

"I'll be here," replied Lex quietly.

A sweet smile, and something inside Clark nearly broke apart at the sight. "Great," he replied, daring to lean over and kiss Lex's cheek before bounding down the stairs, his heart lighter than it had ever been before. "See you later."

Clark let the world blur by as he loaded his parent's truck in record time. Yelled for them to hurry up and they came running, shaking their heads at him, bemused as ever by his sudden burst of speed.

"Everything's last second, eh, Clark?" said Jonathan, not without affection.

"Yep. And I just couldn't wait anymore," replied Clark happily, as his mother took her place behind the wheel. "Not another minute."

[][][][][][]

The early June sun beat down harshly as it always did over Smallville. Clark helped to set up the Kent Farms booth and surreptitiously thumbed in the nail that held up their sign for all to see.

"Kent Farms - Organic Produce" and Clark prayed a few tourists might be wandering around even this early in the season. The extra money the Sunday market brought often meant the difference between a new pair of shoes for his parents versus holes in their soles into the middle of winter, sometimes even into the next summer.

Clark never wanted for shoes or clothes but he knew that as far as his parents went, his needs came first. It had been that way for as long as he could remember and never was there a time he didn't acutely feel their sacrifice. Maybe this was a side-effect of his strange adoption ... the empathy that came to him as naturally as breathing. His parents would have cheerfully starved to death for him and Clark could hardly bear the thought.

But no tourists to be seen and Clark sighed as he took his place within the booth.

"Hey, stranger."

Chloe's familiar voice and Clark smiled. "Hey yourself."

She grinned tightly at him and picked up a basket of strawberries. "Good crop this year."

"How would you know, city girl?" Clark tried to keep his tone lighthearted but failed. "How's Pete doing?"

"Why don't you call him and ask?"

Accusing tone, and Clark winced. "Yeah, I've been meaning to get around to that."

A blatant lie and Chloe stared at him, unmoved, as if her face were set in stone. "No, I don't think you were." She tossed down the basket. "Can you take a minute to come and talk with me? Or have you outgrown me permanently this time?"

"Sure, we can talk," Clark said, looking around to make sure his parents were nowhere within hearing range. "And no, I'd never outgrow you."

"You could have fooled me." She stomped forward, motioning for Clark to follow. A short walk away and she whirled around, face alight with angry fire. "So tell me, Clark. Is Lex worth it?"

Clark paled. "What are you talking about?"

"Is Lex worth giving up everything for?" Chloe minced no words, she never did and Clark had to stop himself from crumbling beneath her brutal honesty. "Me ... Pete ..." She paused. "Lana."

He gaped at her. "Lana? What do you mean? I ... we ..."

"You had a date. One that Lana asked you out on. One that you accepted but for some reason turned out badly," Chloe rattled off accusations, as if reading from a checklist. "You haven't called me or Pete in weeks, you haven't been seen by the lake, near The Beanery or the schoolyard ..."

"Chloe ..."

"I just want to know, Clark. Is Lex worth it? Is he worth giving up life as you know it?"

Clark regarded his friend closely. Saw the trembling in her slim cheeks and wished things could be otherwise. "Yes," Clark replied slowly. "He is. He's worth everything I've done and more." He took a deep breath. "But it doesn't mean that you and I ... that we ... that any of us have to give up each other. It's not one or the other, Chloe. I mean, Lex would understand and ..."

Chloe's mouth fell open, then clamped shut again. "Lex? Lex would understand?" Hands raked through thin blonde hair. "Oh my God, Clark. Are you listening to yourself? You're completely obsessed with this guy."

Clark glanced around furtively, making sure his father was nowhere near. "You need to be more understanding," he said calmly, but inside his gut was churning. "Or our friendship is going to suffer." He reached out and took her hand, holding onto it tightly when she tried to pull it away. "I want us to be friends for life, if possible. People change, Chloe. I've changed ... Lex has changed ... and I want us to grow with our changes. If we can't, then we're never going to get past this." He paused. "And that would be a shame because I love and care for you. I always will."

Chloe blinked, tears shining in her eyes. "I love you too. But I don't understand this." She took a ragged breath. "However ... if this is what you want ..."

"It is."

"Then I suppose I have no choice but to accept it."

Plainly said, without a trace of bitterness and Clark let it go. He knew that wouldn't be the end of it -- nothing was ever quite settled as far as Chloe was concerned -- but for the time being, it was good enough. "Thanks." He smiled thinly. "Look at it this way: if I'm wrong about this you can have the pleasure of telling me to my face, as many times as you'd like. See? It's a win-win situation."

Chloe stared at him, her expression hard. "I'm going to pray you're never wrong."

"Clark!" Jonathan Kent's voice boomed across the market place. "We need a little help here, son."

"I gotta go," said Clark, leaning over and giving Chloe a quick kiss on the cheek. "It's going to be all right, I promise."

She didn't look convinced but Clark had no time to think about that as he jogged back to his family's booth, his heart still waiting impatiently for Market Day to end and his time with Lex to begin.

[][][][][]

When Clark returned to the loft, he heard his stereo playing. Soft music, rhythm and blues, a woman singing on a CD he didn't own. Beautiful, hypnotic music and Clark felt his breathing quicken as Lex came out of the bathroom, toweling off his face.

Gave Clark a huge smile and it was all he could do not to run into Lex's arms. Being overeager wouldn't do -- he didn't want to be a hopeless fool forever.

But when Lex opened his arms and invited him in, it was too much to resist and Clark crossed over to him with a speed that would have surprised even his parents, if they'd seen it.

He snuggled against Lex, his head resting on a shoulder that wasn't much narrower than his own. My love is strong inside and out, Clark thought blissfully, turning to press a soft kiss against Lex's neck. So warm and soft and ...

"We have to talk," Lex interrupted Clark's reverie as he gently disentangled himself from the younger man's arms. "Sit over here, beside me."

A motion toward the bed and Clark thought his heart would stop from terror. What more frightening words could a lover hear than "We have to talk?" None, and Clark sat ... trembling, his chest clenching brutally.

Maybe Chloe would end up being right after all.

As if reading his mind, Lex shook his head. "Don't worry. It's not so bad," he said. "So stop looking like I've pulled a gun on you."

A shaky exhale of relief, but Clark still felt unsure. "What do you want to talk about?"

"About us," Lex admitted. "But it's more logistical than emotional." He looked up at Clark's uncomprehending eyes and bit back a laugh. "Okay, that's a bad way of putting it. Let's try again." He took Clark's hand and held it tightly. "I very much want to be with you, Clark. I want us to be together like we were this morning, or rather like we were going to be this morning if your mother hadn't the innate good sense to interrupt us." He ran a gentle thumb over Clark's palm. "But I want us to wait. Until your next birthday, which I hope to God is soon."

"Christmas Day," Clark murmured, feeling relieved but also somewhat upset. "My father presented my mother with the adoption papers on Christmas Day."

"A beautiful gift," said Lex sincerely. "And a perfect day to look forward to. For you and I to be together."

Confused, Clark looked down at the loft floor. "Can I ask why you want to wait? I mean, that's months from now."

"For a lot of reasons," replied Lex patiently. "One, I feel it's disrespectful to your parents to make love to their teenage son in their house without their knowledge." He shrugged. "Call it my new old-fashioned morals. Two, I want you to be absolutely sure this is what you want." He held up his hand to shush Clark's protests. "This is too important not to be sure about, Clark. It's a big step, if only because ..." His voice trailed away.

"Because?" Clark prompted.

"Because I believe we have a long future together." Lex's throat worked as he swallowed. "At least I'm praying we do and if so, I want to make sure we do this right. Do it in such a way that we can have a chance at happiness. I mean, isn't that what you want?"

"I dunno. Do I have a choice?" Clark asked sullenly.

Lex put a finger beneath Clark's chin and turned him so they faced one another. "You certainly do. Just tell me you don't want to wait and we'll take it from there." Rueful grin. "And then give me a kiss because that will pretty much dissolve what little self control I have left."

Honest grey eyes met his. They were tempting, too tempting, and Clark looked away, shaking his head. "No. You're right. We should wait," he said reluctantly. Every fibre of his being was protesting but he soldiered on. "But only until Christmas. I'm not sure I can hold out longer than that."

Lex smiled. "Think you're the only one?" He peeked around to catch Clark's eye. "And I say we seal that promise ... with a kiss. Just a little one."

Clark rolled his eyes, unable to stop the grin that was spreading across his face. "You're pushing it, Lex."

"I know," said Lex, his mouth so close to Clark's it felt more of a caress than a conversation. "But I always do, don't I?"

"Yeah," Clark breathed as he leaned in for the kiss. "You always do."

[][][][][][]

Early Monday morning and Clark grumbled against the shrilling of his alarm clock. Hit it with a vicious bang and winced when it flattened beneath his hand. Crap, he thought, glancing over to the rollaway where Lex had spent the night, relieved to see he was still fast asleep. Clark opened the drawer and swept the remnants inside, not looking forward to his parents' inevitable teasing.

This would be the tenth clock of the year.

He quietly snuck out of bed and into his clothes, letting Lex sleep. The hard labor of farm work was finally taking its toll and Clark knew that Lex would push it until he dropped from exhaustion. Took very soft footfalls downstairs and breathed a sigh of relief as he entered the kitchen, surprised to see his parents huddled at the kitchen table -- no plates or food at the ready.

This was a strange development. "Mom? Dad?" said Clark, taken aback at the sight of their ashen faces. "What's going on?"

Jonathan Kent said nothing. He merely turned away, looking older than Clark had ever imagined he could.

His mother's eyes were red from crying and she sniffled, motioning for him to sit down. "Here, honey. We have something to tell you but promise you won't be upset."

"I can't promise that, Mom," Clark said, his heart pounding. "What happened?"

"Well, sweetheart ..." began Martha before Jonathan angrily cut her off.

"The bank has foreclosed on us, son," he growled furiously, tossing a thick sheaf of papers in front of Clark. "Our farm is no longer our own."

Clark gaped, first at his mother, then at his father. What the ...

"And I think you should know," finished Jonathan with a look of pure rage. "That your friend, Mr. Luthor, is behind it."

[][][][][][][]

end of Part Seven