Chapter 4: Breathing

Clark drove, trying to concentrate on the road ahead of him.  Even though it was straight and void of all distractions, he was still having a difficult time of it.  Lex was buckled into the seat next to him and his moaning appeared to be getting worse, despite the stability of his condition. Clark could've sworn he heard syllables within the dirges, words that hadn't quite made it past the lips which kept them prisoner.

He knew that Lex's physical state was no more than a little fatigue and dehydration, but he was still pained to see his friend as hurt as he was.  He really had no clue what all Lex had done to himself, or just what kind of detrimental effects that too much running was bound to have the next day, but he hoped it wasn't going to be too severe. The man's feet had already swollen badly, and they, along with other body parts, were no doubt going to be sore as hell tomorrow.  He'd be able to recuperate better once in his bed-

…not that it'd be more suitable than mine; more appropriate maybe…

-or possibly Clark's arms.

He allowed a humble smile, one of longing and wishful thinking, to form upon his lips.  At the thought of Lex in the safest place Clark could imagine-

…nothing could ever hurt him here…

-he himself became calmer, more sedate.  In places.  In other places he felt a captivating thrill briefly coursed through, relenting once Clark realized that Lex was too strong, too damn stubborn to allow himself to be held.  To be caught unaware and defenseless, assailable to all, whether to those with praetorian interests or benign ones.

…or more- carnal ones…

Lex had quieted during the brief interval in which Clark had carried him to Jonathan's truck, as if he were aware of the protection and refuge that the embrace freely offered. Clark had been tempted to walk at a slower, more normal pace, tempted to relish the contact as the body pressed to his, calming and relaxing against his chest.  He didn't though, feeling strangely guilty about taking this pleasure.  It didn't feel wrong, just lonely and a bit paltry, like he knew there was more that could be had.  He just didn't know how to reach that spot, the spot where Lex and he could be…more.  Something beyond what they were now, only not too different.

…argh, so frustrating; I hate this…

Of course his guilt wasn't the only reason he was quick to place Lex in the truck.  He was a little afraid of how it might look to his father.  If he saw his son rushing to grab pillows and water, but took his time, ambling towards the truck with another boy, a Luther boy-

…man…

-encircled within his arms.  His father would have been more than a little irked and highly confused.

…he still really surprised me tonight…

The instant he had heard Jonathan's voice, Clark had been afraid of the hotheaded reaction he would receive for having the despised Luther son in the barn, but his father had been amazingly rational, understanding even.

…if not as compassionate as possible…

Well, it was Lex after all, and his father had thankfully kept things very... short.  Very compact.  It had been good timing on his father's part as well, at least for Clark.  Another minute later and he would have been in a more intimate position, a hand on a forehead or cheek, face close to Lex's own, trying to wake the boy with soft words and caresses.

…I was so worried…

He had never seen Lex break a sweat, or even lose his cool.  If there were one word to describe what he saw in Lex, it would be composure, which was another reason why that whole bank robbery thing had rubbed him the wrong way.  If Lex were going to steal, not that Clark ever thought he would, he'd do it with aplomb and an intrepid stride.  Not fear, panic, and an unplanned protocol.

Another moan reverberated through the truck's small cabin and Clark was grateful that it was a soft and diluted one. He wondered if the moans were caused by physical ailments or emotional ones, though it might have been both. Deducing from the anguished expressions he had seen whipping across Lex's face as he ran, Clark presumed that the majority of the sounds were more likely to be spawned from emotional lamenting. Running the way that Lex had… It looked like he never wanted to end this run, like he was trying to flee his life-

…dad would say 'he's a Luther', that trying to run away from what he is was trying to outdistance the impossible, trying to leave your shadow in the dust…

-and escape to a better one, one where so many people didn't hate him, didn't know him, didn't think he deserved to do penance for his every breath.

Then again, perhaps running was his act of penance and the eventual redemption was what Lex had been working towards. Maybe he was punishing himself, smiting with obvious censure for something he deemed as criminal, as corrupt, and he would continue this persecution, wouldn't stop until he had his exoneration.

Looking briefly from the road to the man in the passenger seat, Clark tried to check on Lex's heart with his newfound hearing, but he couldn't concentrate.

…maybe it's because he's here…

Clark took his right hand off of the steering wheel and placed it in the center of Lex's chest. Ignoring the quickened flutter of his own heart, he moved his hand left until he felt the strongest pulse. The fact that he could still feel Lex's heart with his hand was none to good, but the heart was beating at a more normal pace.  He had to give it time.  Lex had only stopped running about ten minutes ago.

His looked from the road to Lex's lap, searching for and finding the other man's hand.  As his gaze migrated back to the road, he wondered for a moment if he should do what his desire was screaming at him to do.  He figured that maybe a touch from him, something personal and caring, could calm the whimpers from Lex.  But, then again, he would be, at the same time, using Lex's need as an excuse to live out a tiny little fantasy of his, a slight curiosity which had kept his farm boy mind occupied while in school.

He steeled his courage and moved his hand from the satisfying thump-thump of Lex's heartbeat, to reach for the pale companion. As his fingers found their objective, they quickly wrapped themselves around it. Though the hand stayed sadly limp and inactive, there was a sudden electric and somewhat guilty energy that filled Clark. He manipulated Lex's hand in his until he was able the trail his thumb over the palm, tracing the young man's lifeline.  His thumb stayed active as his fore and middle fingers moved to entwine Lex's.

He still felt so very guilty for what he saw as a violation of trust, but he couldn't pull his hand from Lex's.  It just felt right and rational, this rare moment of privilege absolutely divine, filling his chest with sublime comfort and ease. This was the first time he had been able to touch Lex like he wanted to, the first time he could study the effects that such a purposeful touch had on him. The emotions flowing through him were almost overwhelming in their potency and staggering in their range: Guilt came first unfortunately, drubbing hard at the door of his conscience, telling him to stop. Need was high on the list, the pent up desire and lust he could not act upon close behind; an appreciation for their friendship was never far when it came to Lex, and his admiration for the boy's strength through adversity was strengthening.  There was a fondness for the man beside him and a hope that he could have at least one single moment wherein the caresses would be reciprocated.  Of course the anxiety that he would never have that moment always seemed to shadow the hope.  And there was the worry of what Lex might discover about him, something he knew very little about himself.

…the stars tell no tales…

There a deep want flowing through him, as well, and the tide was ever-rising.  The want was to be blunt about everything to Lex, to just be the earnest and sincere boy he was raised to be and tell all to the young Luther, everything there was to know and whatever he could think of after that.  To just empty his soul to the other man, and hope to the heavens-

…my home; my home is up there somewhere, isn't it?…

-that Lex would take it in stride and help him sort everything out with a patience that Clark knew existed within him, a patience he desperately wanted, craved for himself.

There was also the possibly of lo-

…no…

Clark breathed in a deep breath, not allowing himself to go there, to go too far, and continued his thumb's shameful and somewhat neurotic stroking, the connection creating thousands of individual tingles that, in turn, ran up his arm and throughout his body.  Some lasted, melting slowly, others led evanescent, meteoric lives, and dissolved almost immediately.  Like sugar on his tongue, it was just as sweet.

…these are a few of my favorite things…

He rolled his eyes. "That's not disturbed." Still, they were things that the other boy caused.

…and feels; he has to; he came to me while in need, I heard his heart leap at the sight of me; I know he feels the same- it's in those dark eyes, so haunted…

Clark sneaked another guilt-ridden look at Lex whose body was slumped, leaning into the car door, a pillow up against the window bracing his head. He was resting in the most comfortable angle that Clark could find for him, but he still looked like he was going to have a tender neck in the morning and the last thing he needed was yet another aching malady.

…he doesn't know who- he doesn't what you are…

That put a damper on Clark's rousing fervor. He shook himself out of his slightly hazy state, reluctantly letting go of Lex's hand. Dragging his own away, he ignored the impulse to linger, the zealous urge to trail his fingertips along the bare, hairless arm. The simple desire to caress that wan face, those full, pink lips that looked to be deceptively soft.

…they were soft…

"Wha-"

…drowning in the river…

"Oh," he whispered softly, realizing just what the deeper alcoves of his mind had been quicker to recall than he. It hadn't really hit Clark that he'd had those lips beneath him before. Until now.  His second fortuitous opportunity to save Lex. Of course there was nothing erotic about the first, a more gut-wrenching experience than anything else. Lex's close call with death had been… Well, too close.

As soon as Clark had splashed down in the water he had immediately gone after the man still trapped within the car, the deathtrap, realizing that there was not a moment to loose. He was so lucky that he had been-

…gifted with extra abilities; who else could have wrenched a roof clean away?…

-able to pull Lex out. He had noticed the proud, young face was lifeless, the body unmoving, and he-

…so thankful to Chloe for annoying and pestering us until Pete and I took those CPR classes with her…

-had done what little he could to bring the life back into that body. He had feared it wouldn't be good enough.

---Maybe I'm not strong enough or fast enough. I have superhuman abilities, damnit, but what use are they if I can't save people when they most desperately---

Then Lex had breathed, allowing Clark to do the same.

…so relieved…

Lex had breathed and lived, thereby entering Clark's world and completely twisting the hell out of it's old form, bending the rungs and bars with dexterous and seemingly effortless skill.  Lex and his last name had inadvertently changed Clark's relationship with his parents, adding more tension and helping Clark to discover yet another way in which his parents weren't perfect.  His mother was less close-minded than his father, but even she held her own inhibitions about Lex.

And now, here sat Clark, next to the boy that mere weeks ago he had only heard about, through papers and magazines. Now here he sat, thinking about those lips containing live warmth instead of the chill of the almost dead. Those lips pulled in to a half-smirk or parted and readying themselves for some glossified, urbane quip.

Or maybe pressed against his own, parted in passion, eager and willing this time.  How would Lex's lips feel there?

…would they be gentle? playful? forceful in obvious infatuation? needy and crude in their desire, not afraid to be coarse? or would they be like clark's own: inexperienced and a bit timid, shying from the possibilities…

He deeply doubted that anything about Lex would be inexperienced.

He cleared his throat, shifting a little in his seat, and frowned at the direction his mind had taken.  He sighed knowing that his feelings towards Lex were more abstract and complex than any he'd ever felt. There was a bond, something that tied the two of them together indefinitely. Clark knew that, he could feel it every time the young Luther's name was mentioned, every time he saw the man from afar. But just how the smooth headed boy had slinked his way into the position previously held by flowing, chocolately-brown hair, and matching eyes; how feelings for him had pushed to the side the care, the empathy and simple puppy dog love-

…oh, great; now I see that what I feel- felt?- for Lana is puppy love; couldn't have figured that out five years ago?…

-he would never know. But the young Luther of his mind was now holding top position and fighting hard for Clark's affections. And no matter how hard Clark tried to dissuade himself of his thoughts, the impassioned sentiments came back followed by the strong conviction that Lex felt the same way, shared an identical pathos.

He swallowed, his throat thick with emotion. Despite the fact that he could send a human over a hundred feet with a mere shove- despite the fact that he could break though solid ice with a simple punch- he couldn't seem to mash down thoughts of his friend. He found himself yearning to ditch the truck and carry the young man in his arms, cradling him there, not breaking the contact that seemed to assure both of them of something. Tension could be lifted from Lex and as for Clark… Well, Clark could hold Lex in a moment where restraining his ardor, his tenderness, would be wholly unnecessary. If only temporarily, he could savor the hedonistic proximity, and could take and keep from the moment everything he wanted. Best of all, what he remembered could last for as long as Clark was willing to commemorate it and he was sure that the moment he had touched and caressed Lex's hand would be taken to heart in perpetuity.

…as well as your guilt at not having permission…

He blushed and wished he could be more like Lex.  Live with no regrets, no remorse, no shame or guilt.  If only his father had left out the suggestion that Clark drive so as not to appear conspicuous. Then he would have had to carry Lex, their bodies converging would be unavoidable, and Clark wouldn't feel like the world's largest pervert for holding Lex's hand.  For wanting to and acting upon this want. 

The desire to feel Lex's body pressed against his, the want for comfort of such a simple physical nature, was hard to resist. It was already causing Clark to drive about fifteen miles under the norm, prolonging their drive just so he could keep the company for a little while more. He knew that once he got to Luther Manor and dropped the oblivious denizen off, he would have to get back home. He wouldn't have school the next day, as it was Sunday, but his father would probably be waiting up for him at home.

…waiting; if no one were waiting at the gate…

Maybe he could carry Lex up to the mansion.

…to his room?…

He could go slowly so that it appeared he was effected by the weight, and that way he could take a little longer.

…you are so pathetic, kent; grasp at any straw…

Take any chance, make any excuse to be able to extend the needed corporeal connection.

…argh- damn teenage hormones…

Luther Manor appeared over the hill, it's impending lights avaricious for the company of Lex, and Clark slowed even more. He didn't want to leave the small, intimate environment of the truck, didn't want to hand over his friend, but the lights, ever closer, twinkled through the trees, like stars through the gases of the Earth's atmosphere, reminding him of the distance between him and Lex.  Him and every other human being.

What would Lex think of him if he knew?

…he can never know about me, ever; he just wouldn't understand…

"How could he?"

Clark drove up to the open gates, stopping on the outside instead of driving all the way up to the castle-like structure. He got out and breathed in the warm air, walking to Lex's side and deciding to carry the man the rest of the way. He figured that his distinction in ancestry made it impossible to ever allow himself a chance with the older boy, so why not take every random opportunity that befell him for a moment of pleasure like this.  He'd try his best to take after Lex: do what you want, don't get caught, and don't feel bad.

He laughed, blushing fiercely at the mere implication that he could take this advice.

…as if…
 
 
 
 
 

To be continued...