The Memoirs

The hospital was utterly exhausting, now that Clark had been able to think about it right.

He had been there with Chloe and Whitney for the better part of seventeen hours, and Chloe's screams and cries were wearing him thin. He was trying to siphon as much of her pain into himself as was safe to do, just to take the edge off, but it was exhausting, and he found himself sleeping for an hour and a half in the chair beside Pete, after Lex left.

Lex.

Ugh.

But that was a whole other can of worms, because Whitney had come out a few minutes before and Clark had quickly joined him in Chloe's delivery room, where she was having her labor, the doctor and nurses already there. "What's going on?"

Whitney was grinning. From ear to ear, even though he was tired, sweaty, and his hand was hurting where Chloe'd nearly squeezed it and broken it into a million pieces.

"Doctor says she's almost ready to deliver," he said with a broad grin, handing Clark a set of green scrubs and a surgeon's cap. "She's completely dilated and the baby's in position. I just called Lex like, two seconds ago, and he's on the way. Hope he gets here in time," he said, squeezing Clark's shoulders tightly. "You're about to be a godfather."

Clark looked out through the glass door leading into the labor room and he felt, for the first time in a very, very long time, his stomach churn. He held it, and the hand holding the scrubs to his mouth, as he got one look a the blood and other... stuff... on the floor. He paled, but didn't faint thank God, instead swaying happily on the spot.

"Oh."

Whitney was completely oblivious. "Come on. get into the scrubs, and come on into the room. They usually don't let anyone but the father in there, but they're not gonna say no when Lex Luthor's involved."

Clark swallowed, hard, and pressed his hand to his come filled belly again as he swallowed again, and once more. Not going to throw up. No, dammit.

Fuck.

Instead of puking, as he desperately wanted to do with each of Chloe's sharp cries, he got into the scrubs as shakily as he could, booties going on, hat going on over his long hair, and did he mention the puking? he was already upset from the argument with Lex from before, and now... Christ.

Whitney reached up and tucked the stray straggles of Clark's hair into the cap, and straightened the scrub top over his shirt. "There we go. Go on in; I'm going to wait out here just a minute or two more and see if Lex makes it in." He gave Clark a hug, and was still grinning. "I can't wait."

"U huh," Clark answered, eyes wide and unseeing. He was barely listening, barely seeing anything but Chloe's scream, the memory of the pain sharp in his mind. He'd promised himself he wouldn't think of it, though, and after making sure he looked all right, hugged Whitney back, nodded pale faced, and walked into the labor room.

Whitney was rocking on his heels, hands clasped behind his back as he craned his neck, looking. He was about to give up when Lex came tearing up through the hallway and exploded through the doors. "You made it!"

Lex nodded. "I think I broke every speed limit in Smallville." He held out a square box. "Cigars for the proud father."

Whitney grinned. "Clark's already inside--you'll need to be in scrubs, then you can go in. Here... there's a spare set in Chloe's room, and hurry up!!"

Lex gave another nod and ducked into the room, quickly pulling on the scrub top and pants, and covering his bald head with the skullcap provided as he put the booties on over his Armani loafers, and he slipped back into the delivery room.

The screams, the blood he could see, the sweat and the noise sent him spiraling into horrific memories, and he did his best to shove them aside as he waded through them towards Chloe.

- = -

Pete had been quietly sitting in the plastic chairs when all the commotion started. He and Shay had gotten bored with cards a while before, and he was watching CNN with half an ear, the other listening to what was going on. Lex skid by, all but slamming into a cart of supplies, but dashed into the birthing room and left the hallway quiet again.

"Flying Lex, two o'clock high," Shayla said softly. "Got to be getting close if AJ's back."

"Specially since he and Clark were ready to kill each other a while ago," Pete said, just as quietly, and sideglanced her. He was slouched against the chair, arms crossed about his chest, and he gave her a small smile, hoping she'd give him one back.

"If Clark and Lex ain't fighting? Then the world ain't spinnin'. Cause they're both stubborn as fuckin' pack mules and neither one's gonna give an inch when they think they're in the right," she answered back.

"Yeah, course not. That's what makes them… them, though. It's not a bad think, to be stubborn," Pete said.

"You're tellin' that to an Irish girl, Pete. That's like... preachin' to the choir. We're born and bred stubborn, remember?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, I know," Pete answered, and uncrossed his arms to sit up a little. "You're the most stubborn person I've ever met."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she said with a snort.

Pete smiled a little. "You're fun stubborn. I don't mind."

"That's real generous of you," Shay answered.

Yeah, well. Pete frowned a little and re-crossed his arms. "I wish you wouldn't say that, Shay. I'm not your enemy here."

"No, no, you're just condescending. oh, it's so cute when you're stubborn, cause it's fun and adorable," Shay mimicked.

"I didn't mean for it to sound that way." His teeth, without his realizing it, set on edge.

"Sure you didn't," she said, reclining back in her chair. "You never mean it to sound that way, I guess. It just always does."

"I wish you'd stop treating me like the enemy," Pete said, very quietly. "I'm not. Nor am I trying to be."

"You're doin' a pretty good job of it anyway," she said.

"Why? What have I done?"

"Well... first of all, you don't take anything I say seriously. I mean, I don't blame you, cause come on, it's me, but still. You don't even give it the slightest bit of credence. Like, when I said I was worried about Morgan a couple of days ago? You just said, oh, he's fine, so stop worrying, like I didn't have a valid concern about my brother, and it pissed me off. Ever since, I've been noticing it more and more. You patronize me."

Pete looked across at her, as she spoke, and something cold and dead tugged on his heart. "I don't mean to. I was just trying to help, Shay, but everything I've said, you've skewed. All you've been doing is thinking badly of me."

"Oh, I'm skewing things now?" she asked skeptically. "Because I'm not just sitting back and taking the cute little pats on the head anymore?"

Pete sat up, then, uncrossing his arms and leaning forward a little in the chair. "I don't pat your head, Shay," he said quietly, evenly, starting to get a little angry, now. "I've been trying to make you feel better."

"Hell you have. You've been condescending to me, you've been patronizing me, and you've been trying to placate me so I'll play nice with all the doctors, eat my veggies and go back to pretending everything's hunky dory," she shot back. "You give me little pats on the head and tell me to admit I have a problem, you tell me to get over things, and you know what? I can't do that anymore."

The cold, dead feeling grew worse in his chest, so much so that he could taste it when he swallowed. "Shay, I'm not trying to do that at all. I was just trying to be a good boyfriend to you, be there for you. I was trying to make you feel better--you're not like you were, and it scares me."

"Be there for me? BE there for me? Pete, you haven't been there for me this whole summer! And I'm not just talking about physically!! When I was at the hospital with Morgan? Clark and Lex were there for me more than you were! Which, yeah, okay. To be fair? You had a lot of crap going on too, with your family and the classes at the center and all, but still. When I did see you, it was all sunshine and smiles and everything fine and dandy, and it was like you didn't bother to realize that maybe I wasn't feeling all that good right now. No, you know what? You're right. I'm not like I was. Maybe having this disorder has been good, cause I'm not gonna sit back and just be patted on the head anymore. I may be a ditzy blonde, but dammit, I'm a person."

"I didn't mean to make you feel that way," Pete said, his own temper spiking, though he was trying his best to calm it. "I was trying to be there for you, Shayla. One second you want space, the next minute you want me to be as close to you as I can, and I can't figure out what you want from me any more! Its all sunshine and smiles because it kills me to see you so unhappy, but I haven't done anything to you. Don't sit here and try to tell me I've been a bad boyfriend, because I haven't."

"You can't figure it out?" she demanded. "You could... oh, I don't know... maybe fucking ask me what I want?" She closed her eyes as a particularly shrill scream from the delivery room pierced their argument, and she massaged the bridge of her nose.

"I did. And you keep giving me the run around! "I'm fine", or, "No, its okay", or your crying jags where you won't tell me what's wrong!"

"Because you couldn't handle it!" she yelled back. "If I'd tried to tell you half of what was on my mind, you've had told me I was worrying for nothing, and asked me if I wanted to watch a movie to get my mind off it!"

"Because I've never had to do any of this! I don't know how to react, Shayla, and I'm doing my best. God dammit, I'm not your enemy!" Pete cried, as he leapt to his feet, unable to stay sitting for a moment more. "I wouldn't just brush you off like that!"

"But you did!!" she said, jumping up when he did and knocking over her juice cup from earlier. "You think I've had a ton of practice doing this relationship thing? Pete, you fucking know better than that!!"

"I didn't brush you off! I wouldn't ever do that!" Pete yelled back, as the screams from the delivery room reached high pitch. "Your my girlfriend, I wouldn't do that! or is this all because of the cock thing?" He demanded, quite suddenly, changing the subject totally. "Is this because of everything, do you feel put upon? Huh? Does this all come from what you and Nacheyez talked about?"

"Because of the cock thing?" she asked incredulously. "No, actually, it's not because of the cock thing. It's because of the Pete thing and the Shay thing. The thing where Pete and Shay don't talk anymore. The thing where Pete doesn't want to talk about embarrassing things and the thing where Shay doesn't want to talk period. It's all about you and me, baby."

"If you can't talk to me, Shay, then why are we even doing this? If you can't talk period, then why are we still here, in this place? Because I've obviously done something wrong, and you obviously hate it, so why the fuck are we even trying?"

There was a long, long quiet pause where Shayla just looked at Pete, really, carefully looked at him. "You know... that's actually a damned good question."

It was like the bottom of his stomach dropped out. He hadn't expected her to say that, and bile rose like acid in his throat, making his eyes painfully burn and his stomach clench and roll as Chloe screamed in the labor room. He didn't speak, just looking at her.

"Hey, you asked the question, Pete. I didn't."

Pete didn't stop looking at her, and for a long, long moment, he didn't speak. "Do you want to break up, Shay?"

"I don't think you're ready for this," Shay said, sidestepping the question. "Pete... you said you were scared because I'm not like I was before. Dr. Natch told me that because of these problems I have, I may never be like that again. You can't handle that--you can barely handle it now."

"You're not answering my question," Pete said, instead, and it took everything in him to say it. "Do you want to break up?"

"No, I'm not," she said. "Do I want to? No, I don't. But are we going to? Yeah, I think so. Because Pete... it's not working. Not right now anyway. Let's just... take a break for a while. Let things get back on course and then see where we go."

Fuck. fuck. His knees felt weak, but he kept them straight, standing as straight as he could. He always got dumped.

God, this sucked.

"Yeah. If its what it'll take to get you better, then by all means," he said.

"I think it's what it's going to take to get us both back on our feet," she said quietly, the yelling rancor from earlier gone. "It's just not working for us right now."

Pete thought his throat was going to seal itself off, the lump lodged in it nearly choking him as he fought to stay calm, to breathe. "I never got off my feet, Shay. Maybe you just outgrew me," he said, very quietly, jaw grinding in an effort to stay normal. It ticked gently for every sentence.

Shay shrugged. "Or maybe my problems fucked us both up," she suggested, rubbing her stomach as acid rose in her throat, but she didn't get sick. Which for her, was progress.

"No. My problems fucked us up," Pete said, and this time there was a tremor in his voice. "Look, I'm gonna go. Tell... tell Chloe that I'll be by to see the baby later this week."

"No," she said softly, looking up at the orderly standing in the doorway. "That's my cue to leave; it's time for my lunch and my meds and my blood tests. Stay, see the baby, I have to go anyway."

He'd rather die. "I'll see you, then."

"Not like I'm going anywhere," she said with a grimace as the white-clad orderly came towards her. "You know where to find me."

Pete turned on his heel, and the lump that had threatened to choke him rose all the way into the back of his throat, as tears finally filled his eyes and blurred where he was going.

Five minutes later, after a baby screamed his way into the world, Clark, flushed with pleasure, opened the door to beckon Pete and Shay in, and found them gone.

Whitney peeked over Clark's shoulder, holding his son tightly to his shoulder, cooing softly to the newborn in his arms, and he put his chin on Clark's shoulder. "Probably went off to talk or something," he said, taking the baby back over to the bed and sitting on the bed beside Chloe, tears sliding down his cheeks as he grinned widely. "Hey, little Fordman."

Clark turned back to the delivery room. He was... well, stunned, mostly. Whitney and Chloe were sitting together again, the doctors were exhausted, the nurses were cleaning Chloe up, and Clark was... well. He'd never seen anyone give birth before, and oh, God, it was gross.

Plus the whole part where a baby came out.

For a few seconds, heart wrenching seconds, he thought he was going to lose it as the baby came into the world, but it was only for a few seconds. He calmed himself down, locked the emotions in tight, and with a smile, helped greet Baby Fordman into the world.

All the while without talking to Lex.

Which was actually all for the better, as far as Lex's sanity was concerned. As long as nobody talked to him, he could keep a tight, tight little lid on the near-hysterical welling of emotion inside him as he held Chloe's hand tightly, stroked sweaty hair off her forehead and told her how good she was doing, and how beautiful the baby was.

He watched silently as Whitney helped count, ten little tiny fingers and ten little tiny toes, all perfect, the newborn infant alternately cooing and crying as he was touched, petted, and cradled.

And right there, as Lex looked over Whitney's shoulder as Whitney counted toes, was just about all Clark could stand, and stay sane.

He leaned down to kiss Chloe's pale forehead, then gave Whitney a one armed hug over them, before leaving the room. They didn't need his help anymore, anyway. He shucked out of the scrubs, the hat, the booties, tossing them into the garbage before leaving, as fast as he could without running. Out into the fresh air, after slamming the doors open, and promptly leaned over into the bushes and threw up.

As soon as he could breathe, as soon as he could get himself together, Clark ran all the way to the farm house where he knew his mom and dad were, and opened the door, carefully, tears already filling his eyes.

Martha was humming to herself as she had the girls in the sink, one in each side as she gave them both baths, splashing them as playfully as they splashed her, and each other, and she laughed as she got a mouthful of soapy water.

She heard the door to the kitchen open, but she didn't look up. "Decide to come back home for lunch, honey?" she asked, expecting Jonathan.

Yes, well.

Seeing his baby sisters peering quizzically up at him from the sink and Clark let out a wretched sob, then another, then one more as he burst into hot, dark cries.

Martha turned off the water at that. "Clark?" she called out, taking the drain out of the sink so that the water emptied quickly, and she picked up the wet babies, setting each one still squirmy and a little wet in their high chairs and belted them in. "Clark, honey, what's wrong?" Once each baby was taken care of, she hurried across the kitchen and put her arms around her son.

Clark leaned against his mother and wrapped his arms around her, crying so hard his entire body shook, so hard his teeth rattled and his throat vibrated and he felt that any minute now, his heart was going to wrench out of his chest. It was pure, sweet, selfish, burning misery, and he poured it into his mother's breast with each wrenching sob.

Martha rocked him in her arms as best she could, rubbing his hair and whispering soothing little nothings as he cried. "It's okay, sweetie, let it out. Tell your mama what's wrong."

Clark couldn't explain what he was feeling. There weren't words. He sank down into the chair in front of the girls and pressed his face to his mother, sobbing so hard that he was sure his throat was going to wrench out of his body. He cried like that until he was shaking and shuddery, until the girls had started to cry with him, and when he quieted they did as well. He swallowed, hard, taking in a trembling breath, then another, and looked up, owl eyed and streak faced, at his mom.

Martha didn't say anything else when Clark didn't answer her, just held him tightly and rocked him, stroked his hair and when he looked up at her, she reached into the sink and picked up the washcloth, still damp from the girls' baths. She wiped off his face, cleaning him up gently, but quickly, and then put the cloth back on the sink. "Chloe had her baby?" she asked softly, guessing from his reaction to his sisters.

He took a shuddering breath, closing his eyes tightly again, and when he opened them, tears had caught in the long lashes. "He's... he's beautiful, Chloe's baby. They named him John. He weighs seven pounds, and he's got a head full of blond hair already. I hate her. I hate her, and I hate Whitney, mom, I hate them. He's healthy and was born screaming. I hate her," he said, voice breaking, as he pressed his damp face to his mother again.

Oh, her heart felt like it was going to break. "Oh, baby," she said softly, hugging him even tighter. "I know you do, but you can't. You can't hate them, Clark. You should be glad for them, because they aren't going to have to go through the misery that we did." She squeezed him tightly. "But it's okay to hate them, just a little bit."

Clark's chin trembled, hard, and his voice broke several times as he spoke. "Why did my baby die, mom? Why didn't God let me have him, even for a little while? Why did he die?"

She shook her head as she held her son. "I don't know, Clark. I wish I did. I don't have any answers for you, just that... it leaves a hole inside of you forever, but you can't let it rule you."

And with that, he fell silent, a few more tears sliding down the sides of his face to get caught in his mom's apron. Finally, after ages, after holding her tightly to him, he felt his heart, the broken, agonized shards of it, shudder and close, bleeding but not laid bare anymore.

Martha just let Clark hold her, and she rubbed his back, soothing him as best she could. "I wish I could wave a magic wand and make it all go away, but I can't. All I can do is just help you deal with it," she finally said, when she felt the shuddering slowing.

"I'm sorry, I didn't... mean to... I just had a moment. I didn't know where else to go," he said, very quietly, looking up at his mom before back down at the girls. "Sometimes, times like these, it all cracks open. Seeing Chloe bleeding, Mom… seeing John be born, it brought it all back. There's an ache inside of me that I can't explain." He leaned down, though, to gently kiss his sisters' foreheads.

Elizabeth tipped her head, staring at him quizzically, and banged her rattle on her high chair top.

"You came to the right place, you know. You came home. That's always the right place, and you don't have to apologize for coming here." She let go of his shoulders, but kept her hand on his forearm as he moved away to kiss his sisters.

Sarah gave a coo, a spit-bubble, and tried to grab Clark's ear for inspection when he bent down.

Clark nodded, glancing up at his mom and heaving a small sigh. "Lex and I are on the fritz again."

Martha reached over and untangled Sarah's curious fingers, and slipped a soft cloth toy in them instead for her to slobber on. "What happened?" she asked, standing up from the chair. "Come on. Want to help me start a batch of cookies? You can lick the bowl, even," she offered.

Rather then roll his eyes as he once would have, he nodded and climbed to his feet. "Its not really what happened, its what his bone headedness decided to do. He hired a temp to fill in for Dominic while Eddie's helping him get better, and the temp looks exactly like me, down to the eyes. So much so that Whitney got him and me confused, mom."

Martha reached up and handed Clark the big earthenware mixing bowl. "Look in the pantry and get me out the flour tin and the sugar can," she instructed. "And, I know the kid you're talking about, Clark. There was an article in the Daily Planet about him last month, when he graduated from... oh, I don't remember the college. He does look like you ,but you're more handsome. You actually have skin on your bones, and you have prettier eyes. His are... dark. I like you better." She opened the refrigerator door, and got out the butter and the milk. "You want chocolate chip, sweetie? Or oatmeal? And I wouldn't trust Whitney's eyes right now, because he did just have a baby and probably isn't thinking very well."

"It's not about that, mom," Clark said, as he climbed up from the chair and went into the pantry for the sugar and flour cans, and then helped his mom get the gallon of milk on the counter. "I was upset, and Lex didn't understand why. You know?" He shifted, a little, trembly. "He's really mad."

Martha measured out the cookie ingredients with a practiced hand, so much so that she barely had to watch any longer, her hands so well accustomed to doing it that she could focus her attention on Clark. "Why were you upset? Aside from the, you know, the look-alike factor."

Clark frowned. "I don't know. I just am. It's like... I don't know. Maybe...I mean, Lex likes my type. Tall, dark haired, with my physique. What if he decides, hey, the alien can go screw himself, I'd rather have someone who doesn't molt, or have babies, or has weird sex urges once a year?"

Martha gave her son a glare over the mixing bowl. "Clark Jerome Kent, do you really think that Lex is going to just up and leave after all this?"

And maybe Clark did. it was a nagging fear that had settled in the back of his mind at the sight of the man, but he had the good sense to look ashamed as he opened the sugar tin and chewed on a handful of chocolate chips.

"Mmm, and hey, don't eat all those, we need some of them left for the cookies!" she scolded, and yanked the package away. "Okay. So, we're maybe a little bit scared of Lex leaving. So, what's the big scared? And, look under the stove, grab the cookie sheet, will you, sweetie?"

"The big scared is that he's only going to take my weirdness so many times, mom. Lex is a good guy, and God knows I love him and he loves me. But how many times is he going to really deal with me and all the weirdness I associate by default?"

Martha started stirring in the chocolate chips. "You remember the last time you molted, Clark? Right around Christmas?"

"Yeah?"

"Lex had ended up with ten, maybe twelve stitches in the back of his head when he came home from the hospital," she said, stirring in another handful of chips to make them double chocolate chip. "Before your father and I could get there, he'd gotten another scrape on the crown of his head, right there," she said, wiping a spatter of flour off Clark's temple at about the same place the scrape had been. "But that didn't stop him from getting in that bed with you and trying to calm you down before you hurt yourself."

"I know," Clark said, very quietly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he looked up at his mom under the fringe of his bangs. "I know, mom. He's a good aushna'."

"Yes, he is. And he knows how dangerous you can be--Clark, you've done everything to him that you can possibly do--everything that's happened to you in the last twenty years has all happened to you and Lex. I don't think that he's going to leave now." Martha started spooning cookies out onto the cookie sheet. "Bigger?"

"I messed up, mom?" Clark asked, in a small voice, as he looked at the cookie sheet without seeing it.

Martha put the spoon back in the bowl, and rubbed her hand over Clark's back. "No, baby. You didn't mess up. You're human, just like me, your father, and Lex. You've got every right to be jealous. But at some point, baby... you've got to start trusting Lex."

Clark looked up, under the sheen of tears filling his eyes again, and misery clenched in his chest again like a solid weight. "I do trust him. I just..." His own stupid self esteem issues, again, and he leaned his head on his moms for a second. "I should talk to him."

"You just what, baby?" Martha dusted her hands off, picked up the bowl of cookie dough, handed it to Clark, and tugged him back to the kitchen table. "Come on. Tell your Mama."

"I'm scared. I feel so dumb about it, mom, but I'm just... I'm scared. I love him so much, that if he… if he ever decided he couldn't find enough of what he wanted in me, I don't think I could survive it if he left."

Martha picked up the spoon, scooped up a blob of dough, and slid it into her mouth. "Don't ever tell your father this, but this is why I don't bake cookies anymore--I eat the dough before it gets to the oven." She scooped up another spoonful and offered it to Clark. "What has he done that's made you so scared?"

Clark gave a little smile that ghosted across his face and was gone before it ever reached his eyes. He shook his head to the spoon--his stomach, filled with his lovers come and the nerves and butterflies of Chloe's birth, had made the nausea sticking to the back of his throat churn his belly. "He hasn't done anything. We've just... it's been hard for us lately, mom. What with Dom being sick, him working all the time, and now Victoria."

Martha popped the spoon into her mouth and licked it clean. "Sounds like you two guys need some--wait, Victoria?" Her brow crinkled. "I thought... okay, didn't Roger shoot her?"

"Don't ask. Bruce is trying to figure it out," Clark said, and shook his head. "We need what? A vacation?"

"Okay, I won't." Martha scooped up another spoonful of dough, slowly licked it off, and then put the spoon in the sink before making sure both girls were dozing quietly in their high chairs before going back to the cookie sheet with a clean spoon to finish doling out the dough. "And yeah. I was going to say some alone time, just the two of you, but a vacation works."

He slumped. "Mom, We haven't got a choice right now. It's kind of personal, but let's just say that, right now, Lex and I don't have much of a choice but being together."

Martha raised a brow at that, biting her lip as she didn't turn around, because she knew Clark would be blushing bullets. "How... personal, sweetie?"

Yeah. Clark wasn't just blushing bullets, he was blushing the entire gun. "Really, really personal." And because he owed his mom a little more explanation then that, he cleared his throat. "I'm...um. This is my last stage, basically, before being an adult. Sexual maturity. Lex… is bearing the brunt of it." Literally.

Martha just nodded. "Right. I can... get the visual," she said faintly, keeping her hands working on the cookie dough. "And yes, I can see where the togetherness might be... nerve-wracking. Clark... maybe that's what's causing you to be so upset with Lex? Being especially sensitive to... things that might drive you apart?" she suggested.

He nodded, a little. "It might be that exactly," he murmured, and looked at the sleeping girls one last time before climbing to his feet. "Thanks, mom."

Martha did turn around at that, and tucked her hair behind her ear before giving him a hug. "You're welcome, Clark. That's what I'm here for."

"I love you," he said, as he leaned down to hug her, tightly.

Martha gave a little oof, but returned the hug just as tightly as she could. "I know, baby. And I love you. I miss you; come by again soon, okay?"

"I'll let you know how it goes," Clark promised, kissing her cheek and with one last glance at the girls, he was gone.

He went home. There was no where else he'd rather be, in fact--he heard Dominic's voice yelling something when he walked in, but didn't pay any mind to it as he walked up the steps. There was a note taped to Victoria's door-- "I've got her for the afternoon. Take a lie down--I'll send her up after dinner. Dominic." taped on the door, and Clark sighed at it in a quiet gratitude as he walked into the bedroom he shared with Lex and sank down onto the mattress, only taking his shoes off before curling under the blankets tiredly.

And of course the phone beside the bed rang.

And rang.

And rang some more.

Clark turned, groaned, and picked it up, pressing it between ear and pillow. "Hello?"

"You're home," Lex said unnecessarily. "I just came out of the delivery room; Chloe's resting, Whitney's gone home to change, and you were gone. Are you all right?" He gave a little tug to their link. "You feel tired."

"Yeah. I'm sorry to worry you… I went to see my mom." he fell silent. "I'm sorry, Lex. About freakin' out."

"It's okay," Lex said softly. "I'm going to do that when I leave." And he was quiet for another moment. "It's okay that you freaked out. Don't worry; I did too. Chloe and Whitney both understand, and Whitney said he'll check on us later this evening, after he's seen John and Chloe again."

"No..." Well, that too. "I mean, about Adam, Lex."

"Oh." Another stretch of silence, that was just filled with Lex's tired breathing. "Don't worry about it, Clark. We're all under a lot of stress right now." The sound of his palm scraping over his head sounded like sandpaper to Lex's ears.

"I know. But I shouldn't have…" He trailed off, and then carefully reached out to his lover's mind. "I'm sorry. I love you, very much."

Lex's mind closed warmly around Clark's gentle probe and encouraged it, brought it in and stroked it gently with his own thoughts, letting them twine and meander together. "It's all right, Clark. It's nothing; I love you. You're my aushna'," he said softly. "That's all that needs to be said."

"Come home, Lex? Please?"

He gave a tired nod, and then realized he was on the phone. "Yeah. I'm going to be home in a few minutes--I'm going to Metropolis first though. I was serious when I said I wanted to talk to my mother. But then I'll be home--it won't take me long. Do you..." He paused. "Do you want to come?"

"I wouldn't want to intrude?" he asked, the soft question of, do you want me there? hanging between them.

"You would never be intruding, Clark. You know my mother--you know everything about her that I know. You're almost like her son; you've got a right to be there."

Clark nodded, softly. "Okay. Come home for a while, anyway? I need..." he trailed off, almost silently. "You can change. We could stay in Metropolis overnight, maybe."

"Yeah," Lex said softly. "A shower, and a change." His hands reached out, and ghosted over nothingness, but wishing he was stroking his lover's face. "Then we'll go see my mother, go out for dinner, and stay overnight? Come back in the morning just in time for your classes?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Come home. Please, come home?" he asked, very softly. "I love you… I'll see you in a bit."

"I'll come home," Lex said. "I love you, Clark. I'm leaving the hospital now, so I'll be home soon. Don't... don't worry about anything, okay? It's all done with."

His throat tightened, unspeakably. "Kay. Bye, baby."

"Bye," Lex said softly, and hung up the phone. He pocketed it and looked down at his hands for a long moment, half expecting them to be covered in blood or something, and then shook his head as he started peeling the used scrubs off his clothing. The last thing he did was take out his keys, and when he made sure he had the right one, he started back down the hallway, down the elevator, and towards the parking lot.

Rather then snuggle back under the covers, as he desperately wanted to do, Clark climbed from the bed, pulled a blanket from the bed, and snuggled up in the chair by the TV. He let his feet hang over one arm, curled against the cushion, and flipped the TV on, waiting almost anxiously for his lover to return.

By the time Lex actually got down to his car, he felt like the walking dead. He was exhausted, he'd been up all night with Chloe, had missed his sleep, fought with Clark, and while they seemed to have made up, Lex just felt drained. But he made it inside the driver's seat, and made sure the windows were rolled down when he started it.

By the time he was out on the highway, the blasting fresh air in the windows had refreshed him enough to drive as carefully as he ever did, and he wove his way through the streets until he made it to the flat stretch of Route 5, and he floored the Ferrari's gas pedal, speeding in triple digits towards the castle.

And it seemed like a small epiphany fell on Clark as he sat there, in front of the TV. Almost without his volition he climbed to his feet and walked through the bedroom he shared with Lex, into the closet, and then through the small hidden door, to the toy closet. He looked over the hundreds of toys, dildos and whips, before his eyes fell on what he wanted.

He walked over, almost quietly, and stopped in front of the huge selection of cock rings, before removing a metal one from the shelf. He unbuttoned his pants and pulled his pants and his boxers down his hips, before attaching the ring, firmly. As soon as he had, and it was warm and comfortable against his skin, he pulled his pants back up, buttoned them, and tugged his shirt back down.

Punished, for what he did, for thinking Lex wasn't a good aushna', for making what they were cheapened by petty jealousy.

He went and sat back down in front of the TV, the cock ring strange there wrapped around his cock and balls, but after he shifted and found a comfortable place, he pulled the blanket back over him and waited for Lex to return.

Lex left tread marks as he came into the driveway, and his wheels skidded on the pavement as he pulled to a stop. He pushed through garage, left his keys on the kitchen counter, and went straight for the stairs. He waited until he was about halfway up them before even thinking about yelling. "Clark? I'm home!"

"Hey," Clark called back, lifting his head from the couch. "I'm in our room!"

I figured, Lex muttered to himself, and kept pulling himself up the stairs. He straightened his clothes as he went by the top of the staircase and towards his room, and he started unbuttoning his shirt as he went. He didn't even notice the note about Victoria as he went past it, just opening the door enough to slide through, closing it, and leaning back against it for a moment. "Tell me something, Clark... I didn't sleep more than four hours a night for about ten years. Why is it that all of a sudden, if I miss one night of sleep, I feel like a dead man?"

Clark sat up on the chair, a little quietly, a lot shyly, and met his lovers gaze for the first time since their fight. "It was a rambunctious night." He rose to his feet and walked, quietly, over, to press a small, gentle kiss on his lovers brow. "I'm sorry."

Lex wrapped his arms tightly around Clark and sighed, breathing deeply and letting his cheek rest on his lover's shoulder. "I'm sorry too, Clark. But like I said, it's okay. Don't worry about it." He rubbed his cheek against Clark's, and then let it fall back to his shoulder.

Clark hugged him softly, kissing his neck and hair, before smiling and lifting his head. "Come to bed? If you're not angry with me anymore… I'm hungry."

"I'm not angry," Lex said with a little purr in his voice. "I'm not angry at all." He rubbed his body against Clark's with a little smile. "Let's get you taken care of."

He nodded, gently kissing the small smile, before hugging Lex close, and with a sweep of an arm, lifted his lover up into his arms. He walked the three or four steps to the bed before gently, lovingly, placing Lex face up on the covers and sliding in beside him. With gentle, careful hands he untied Lex's shoes and pushed them off the bed, sliding his black dress socks free, and leaned down to gently lick the toes as he massaged his lover's thighs.

Lex wiggled his toes and luxuriated in the feeling of Clark's mouth around them as he sighed. "Oh, that feels good." He wrapped his other leg around Clark's chest and rubbed his sides and his ribs. He sat up just enough to see what was going on, and he propped several pillows under his head to keep himself elevated. His hands slid down to his slacks, and he unbuttoned them quickly, sliding them down and off his thighs.

And blinked.

His toes wiggled again, and he used the toes not in Clark's mouth to tap his cheek. "Um... Clark? Is it... am I just tired and imagining things, or has something... grown?"

Clark looked up from Lex's toes.

Choked.

Violently.

He let go of his lovers foot before he did something unfortunate like swallow it. "Oh, my God!" He cried, and yeah, instant, raging, unspeakable erection as he leaned in and stared at the huge cock. It was his size now, at least, and he gaped at it before looking up at his lover. "Dad wasn't wrong when he said something would happen," he croaked, before leaning down and licking the flat of his tongue up over it.

Lex's wet toes gave a half-hearted wiggle. "Life is never boring," Lex said with a groan. "And I'm going to be getting new underwear if this is permanent."

Clark moaned, over and over, deeply, and all he knew was that, he "need it inside, need it inside me," he whimpered, licking and sucking over the hard length, which was nearly, if not, as long as his own, and he nuzzled the heavy balls, licking over them before pressing his cheek to the hard length. "God, I said I wasn't going to... Lex... I want, pl.."

Lex reached down and stroked it, letting it harden against Clark's cheek, and he wasn't even surprised any longer by his body changing. He knew he should have been, but it was just a matter of course that things changed, and he rubbed the head of his cock against Clark's face. "You want what, baby? You can have it, if you can take it."

"Inside of me," he whimpered, and in a frenzy began to shuck out of his clothes. Shirt, pants, socks. Lex's own tugged off, and then he helped his lover shimmy his pants down before licking and sucking his lovers enormous cock and his entire body shook with desire.

He reached over to the side table, got the lube out of the drawer, and after stroking his slickened hand down his lovers cock to lube him, he arched his hips and mounted him, lifting up high onto his knees to take it in. He didn't need to be stretched, he and Lex and Whitney had had sex a few hours before and he was still lose enough to--

"Oh!" he gasped, as the head popped through the tight bud of his opening, and he began to slowly, pleasurably, sink down.

Lex's hand went immediately to his lover's bound cock and stroked the shaft gently, looking up questioningly. "What's this for?" he asked, still stroking the shaft as he watched Clark slide down him, arching his back just a little to help push himself into his lover. He felt himself sliding in deeper and deeper, almost inch by inch, and the hand not stroking Clark's cock went to his own, steadying himself and pushing up, shoving deeper and harder.

Yes, well.

Clark leaned forward to brace himself on Lex's stomach as he slowly, perfectly, sank down onto his lovers erection, his elbows shaking as his entrance stretched itself around his lovers girth, and he gave a low, trembling moan as he squirmed to get his lover in, in, in.

He felt Lex all the way in his throat.

When he was sure he couldn't take anymore, when he'd be split open wide, he finally got Lex totally into him, and he moaned, deeply, arching his back and bouncing the smallest bit to get every inch packed tight into his clenching ass.

Lex shuddered, letting go of Clark's cock to grab his hips with both hands. He jerked Clark down sharply as he thrust, slamming up until he felt his balls bounce against Clark's ass and he groaned. God, he could get used to this. He squirmed just a little under Clark to get himself situated, and started to rock his hips so that his cock started to move inside Clark.

His cock slid over Clark's prostate with every thrust, slamming into it on each push back inside, yanking Clark down to meet every one of his thrusts up as he sat up under his lover, licking Clark's chest and biting hard on one of his lover's pebbled nipples.

Clark mewled, softly, deeply, but the ache inside of him, unfurling, alive, couldn't find his stride with this. He shook his head tightly and lifted up off his lover, Lex's cock slipping wet and red from his body with a low pop, and he turned onto his hands and knees, presenting his back side, open, grasping, waiting, spreading his thighs.

Lex nodded and pulled himself up to his knees, stroking his hand over his cock and guiding it to Clark's opening. With a deep thrust his cock slid inside with a little grunt, and he kept a steady pressure behind it as he kept pushing deeper, letting his cock slide back inside his lover. To the hilt, as far in as he could go, until his balls pressed against the curve of Clark's ass and his nails were digging into his lover's hips. He kept his grip tight, hauling Clark back to meet every forward stroke.

Clark moaned, deeply, softly, and began to hump and rut back against his lover as hard as Lex was doing it to him. And finally, now that he had what he wanted, where the thrusts were slamming into his brain, he shuddered out, "Had to punish myself."

The very thought made his entire body convulse, and he corkscrewed around Lex's cock as frissions of pleasure ran up his spine. "Punish myself, until y-you can do it properly."

Lex leaned forward, pressing his chest to Clark's back as he rode his lover hard. His hands left Clark's hips to tug at hard nipples as his teeth found Clark's earlobe before whispering into Clark's ear. "This isn't punishment," Lex whispered, sliding his fingers through Clark's hair, quieting him.. "I'd never use sex to punish you or deny you anything you needed," he said again, his hips thrusting violently into Clark and pounding him hard. "We may play with the idea, but Clark... believe me. I'd never use that against you."

Yes, well, the playing part was Clark's huge hidden kink. He wanted to be hurt, he wanted pain and blood and sharp agony, and he wanted to feel it while being fucked until his brains fell out.

He sent that very feeling back to his lover and shuddered when Lex finally hit his prostate.

He yelled so loud he was sure that Ms. Bird four floors down heard him.

What Clark didn't expect, when Lex thrust forward, was to come.

He gasped, his entire body clenching as he gave a short, agonized cry; Lex's cock was so long, so deep inside of them that on the thrust he hit the bump he had on the outside... inside. And when he hit it, Clark came. Except he didn't--couldn't, even if he didn't have the cock ring, because Lex kept rocking into him and Clark screamed, loudly, his entrance grinding around Lex, sucking him deep, wanting more and harder and oh God he felt the hot, wet rush of lubrication his body made rush out of him to grasp Lex tightly, the first time he'd ever felt it but oh, God, oh, God! it was nothing like the stuff that came out of him with Mar--this was so slippery that Lex jolted against him, and Clark was nearly crying as he squirmed.

Lex's nails dug into Clark's shoulders in surprised shock. The blinding orgasmic pleasure that Clark felt had overwhelmed their bond and bled over into Lex. He could feel his cock plowing against Clark's prostate, could feel the shaft of his cock dragging along the little bump on the inside.

The hot rush of slick fluid inside Clark's body was like nothing Lex had ever experienced before, and he was almost forced to speed up his strokes. The glide against his cock eased the tight friction and Lex moved harder, picking his momentum back up as he adjusted to the extra slipperiness, and he wasn't even aware of shifting his arm across the back of Clark's neck, shoving him face down in the bed as he started to ride Clark with every bit of strength he possessed.

Clark pressed his shoulders and face into the blankets below him, his fingers twisting in the blankets, tearing holes in them as Lex fucked him. Hard, exquisite, wet and hot and every slam forward at that angle had Clark sobbing like a baby. Tears were pouring from his eyes, his body taut with pleasure over every thrust, every move in, and Lex, God bless him, Lex knew, he knew, and he was shoving into him just right and there was an odd ringing in his ears and his mouth was like sand and his belly was hot and filled and oh God.

Lex tossed his head back, blinking sweat out of his eyes as he pressed Clark down harder, flattening his lover's entire upper body and forcing his ass up higher, open wider as he fucked Clark roughly, shoving every inch of his cock into Clark, slamming against his prostate, dragging back against the bump until the head was barely seated inside Clark's opening, and then lunging forward again, throwing all of his body's weight behind it, driving himself inside his lover with every stroke. The arm not holding Clark down went to the firm, taut ass, kneading the cheek with mauling strokes as he thrust in.

Clark screamed on every thrust in, his muscles corded, his body shuddering as Lex shoved him forward, kept him pressed down. His hips stayed canted up, knees tucked in close to his body and ass presented for his lovers every thrust. Lunging, moving, and Clarks fingers scrambled over the blankets, screaming into the pillow under him as Lex thrust.

His cock was molten between his thighs, caught between belly and blankets, and he was harder then he'd ever been, harder then he'd ever felt. The internal lubrication his body was producing, what it had never produced, was dribbling down his thighs, dripping on the bed. Every one of Lex's thrusts pushed against the gland, making it empty, making it slick inside for his lovers every movement, and Clark screamed, again, and again, pleasure he could not even name, pleasure he could not explain, exploding through his mind.

He came, the cock ring breaking apart with the force of the surge his cock made against his belly. Untouched, he spilled underneath his lovers surging body, screaming as he did.

When climax exploded through him, Clark was undone. He screamed until he was hoarse, pleasure ricocheting within his body so hard that he didn't think he'd ever felt anything so intense, so total, and the ringing in his ears increased, eyes foggy and air struggling to get into his lungs for another cry.

Lex didn't stop, couldn't stop. He felt Clark coming, he could feel the cock ring snapping like paper as though it were his cock being freed, he could feel through Clark's body the hard, rough waves of orgasm that buffeted both their bodies.

Lex's hands curled into tight balls, one still on the back of Clark's neck, holding him down, the other moving to Clark's hip to yank him back, Lex growling savagely as he rocked furiously, snapping his hips with hard, brutal movements as Clark's body sucked him in and massaged him, like a tight fist trying to jerk his orgasm out of him.

Clark was sure, once his mind had cleared enough for him to clue in on what was happening, that Lex hadn't come. His entire body felt like one stretched nerve, and each of Lex's thrusts jolted into him, bringing prolonged pleasure, sensitized and hissing. He thrust back against his lover as much as he could against the hold Lex had on his hips and back, shuddering in pleasure so profound it had rocked the very foundations of who and what he was, as Lex shared this experience with him, moving into him like the aushna' he was, good aushna', strong and protective and it was all Clark could do not to curl up and mewl in satiation.

Lex's nails were digging into Clark's invulnerable skin, and he had moved his arm from the back of Clark's neck and wrapped it around his shoulder instead, so that he was lying full-length against Clark as he was rocking hard, and he bit Clark's earlobe tightly.

His body was shaking with the massive overload of pleasure from Clark's orgasm, and he was holding his off as long as he could to prolong this feeling for Clark as he held him close.

When Lex spread out against him, a barrier to protect him from the world, Clark felt peace.

Peace.

"Come, come, Kenep, come for me, come, fill me, come for me." Clark didn't know if he spoke at all but the message was clear--encouragement, love, honor, respect, loyalty, all wrapped up in one ball of emotion he sent to his love.

Lex made sure his body was wrapped around Clark's larger one as entirely as he could. He heard words, but they weren't spoken, rather they were concepts and feelings that he felt sliding along their link and he embraced it. His forehead pressed against the back of Clark's neck as he kissed the top of his lover's spine, and his arms twined around and under Clark's shoulders as he came.

Hard, shuddering and complete, Lex gave a loud shout into Clark's skin as his cock throbbed, squeezed by his lover's body as it emptied every drop into Clark's body.

Wet heat spread into him, punctuated by Lex's cry and his tight thrust against him, and Clark moaned, deeply, softly, into his pillow, and allowed himself to phase out for a moment. Not pass out, per say, because he was still aware mostly, but his mind had to shut down for a minute to wonder what the fuck just happened.

Lex's arms and legs stayed twined around Clark's body as he collapsed in a tired, sweaty heap on his lover's back. His cock was still inside his lover's body but he could feel the softening organ slipping and sliding inside the lubricated passage as he shifted his hips and got comfortable, for once not worrying about his weight crushing Clark.

Clark's moan was animalistic and deep into the blankets under his cheek, and his full body shudder started from his shoulders and went down to his toes. He squeezed around his lover, sore muscles feeling absolutely divine, and he mumbled softly as his lover snuggled against him.

Lex rubbed his cheek against the back of Clark's head, and he moved enough so that he could nibble Clark's ear again. "Since when do you self-lubricate?" Lex teased softly. "That's... a new wrinkle."

He shuddered. Hard. "Dun'o," he mumbled, and gave a divine, cat-like snuggle against lover and blankets, purring deep in his throat. "Since... 'bout ten min'tes 'go."

Lex's arms tightened around Clark's chest. "Fair enough. Since when did I inherit your cock size?"

Clark's lips twitched. "'bout an hour 'go."

Lex gave Clark's ear another playful bite. "Any idea if either one is permanent?"

He shrugged, but after a moment of staring at the blankets, turned his head a little, to look at Lex now, his skin flushed prettily, eyes hazy, smiling a little. "Mine is. Was already there, I think--Whitney just couldn't reach it with his cock, neither could you. Not till now, anyway." A moment, and the smile faded, to horror. "I'm squishy."

Lex brought his hand up to stroke over Clark's face, which had never looked more beautiful than at that moment, wet and flushed and smiling, and then he had to laugh. "Yes, I'm sure you are." He wiggled his hips again, and his cock slid inside his lover's slick passage. "Not that I'm complaining."

"I'll complain for both of us!" Clark exclaimed, but he didn't move. He felt... loved, warm, protected, and dammit, he loved it. He smiled up at Lex, eyes dancing softly as he looked down at their fingers, which had linked all by themselves. "I think it's new, though. Even with the big dildos, I never..." He shuddered, the remembered feeling or orgasmic bliss making him moan softly.

"Yeah, I was there for it," Lex said with a snicker, sucking Clark's ear into his mouth again and nibbling contentedly for a few moments. "Maybe it's one of the things that's come with your maturity."

He nodded, glancing out of the corner of his eyes… then letting them roll closed when Lex suckled on his ear. "Mmm--prolly. Its got that same sugary smell the stuff I had when Mar was conceived." But he squeezed Lex's hand before his lover could move. "Not the same though, don't freak."

Lex's muscles tensed, but as soon as Clark reassured him, he relaxed and re-settled himself on Clark's back. "Okay. I won't freak. I trust you."

Clark grinned, snickering under his breath as he squirmed, squeezing around Lex again and sighing, very softly. "It's gonna make things easier, that's for sure." He arched his hips. "Did you feel yourself bigger?"

Lex's hips rocked forward in response to the arch. "When I was inside? Yes," he murmured as he moved inside his lover. "But no, not until then. I just thought my balls were getting heavy again, and it was time for your snack."

Clark made a face at the little pun, and thumped his lovers hand. "Dork. We gotta ask dad about it...not now, though. Maybe we could..." stay right here, "I dunno, sleep a while."

"Ow," Lex teased, and kissed Clark's cheek gently. "As long as you don't roll over on me, I'm good with sleeping."

"Get out, though. Help me clean up?" Clark asked, looking over his shoulder. He was... well, pretty sure it wasn't the same stuff as Mar was conceived with, but at this point in his life, he wasn't taking any chances.

Lex nodded. "Of course." He moved and slid out easily, and then winced just a little as his enlarged cock slapped against the side of his thigh. "That's going to take some getting used to. Tell me, Clark, how doesn't this throw your balance off when you move?" He rolled to his feet, and held his hand out to his aushna'.

Clark rolled onto his side, and looked at Lex. His lover had gained at least three inches in the last few hours, long and wet and he purred, very, very deeply. "I dunno, Lex, but damn it's hot," he whispered, and rolled to sitting. As soon as he did, he realized just how much was inside of him, because the wet, gooey slide of it as he gave in to gravity's pull made it all start... coming down.

He shuddered.

"Ew. Ew. Eew!"

Lex dropped his eyes as he grinned, and let out a little snort of laughter, but schooled his face as he looked back up at his lover. "Come on. Let's get you into the shower and I'll get the enema bag out again, and we'll make sure it gets out."

"Eeeeeeeew!" Clark cried, but did as he was told, and his eyes nearly crossed as he did. It was utterly disgusting, and he shuddered as he walked, light footed, to the bathroom. "Ew! Eeeeww! Lex! Ew!"

"Once again, Clark, I'm thoroughly amused by the fact that you can deal with nearly any catastrophe that befalls you except for your own bodily secretions," Lex intoned before laughing again, and followed Clark into the bathroom. "Turn the shower on hot and get in."

Clark gave a wretched sound, between gagging and laughter. "Well, catastrophe is almost always outside, isn't it? Not come and wetness inside. I guess I'd better get used to it though, huh?" he asked, and looked at Lex, a little sadly, but not really, because honestly after having such a wrenching orgasm, no one could be sad. In fact, he was warm and happy and kind of a little wriggly.

And not hungry.

"Hey! Lex!" Clarks eyes widened. "I'm not hungry anymore!"

"I'll cancel the order for pizza then," he said dryly.

"Come flavored?" Clark asked, amused. "I meant for this." One hand stroked over the wet, long length. "I'm not... gnawy."

"Oh!" Lex said. He got it about a second too late. "I understand." He gave a little smile. "I can't say as I'm sorry, although I will miss the frequent blow-jobs under my desk."

"Like that'd change."

Lex just grinned at his lover and put his arm around Clark's waist. "Come on. Let me get you cleaned up before you squick yourself out of your skin." He reached for the radio that was built into the wall and dialed up one of Clark's favorite radio stations as he closed the door behind them.

 

-fin-

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