Mosh by jessica
Lex stays out of the mosh pit. He hangs back at the bar, drinking overpriced beer and listening to the kids.
"Girl drummer? How cool is that?"
"They're all so gorgeous. It's not fair."
"Oh, this is the song KMET's been playing all week."
The Spectacles are still just an opening band and they don't always fill the dancefloor. A lot of people talk while they play, but Clark still comes off the stage with an amazing smile every time. No roadies; they have to pack their own gear, so Lex has to wait. The smile's still there when Clark finds him at the bar.
Clark grabs the beer from his hand, letting his fingers slide over Lex's. There are no calluses. It's something Lex is accustom to - no marks on Clark anywhere. Lex has dated musicians before, fucked musicians before. They know how to use their hands, hardened pads on their fingers stroking contrasts on his own soft skin. Clark knows how to use his hands too, but that has nothing to do with guitar. He tries so hard to be normal. Lex worries that tiny things like fingers that refuse to conform will hinder this new obsession.
The bottle's empty when Clark sets it on the bar. He's sweating, just a bit, from the lights and excitement, and he's radiating heat. Lex leans up for a quick kiss, just to remind Clark of his taste. It's shorter than he planned, interrupted by a pair of laughs come from the end of the bar. Clark turns his head to see the girls Lex has been keeping an eye on.
"They've been staring at you all night, Clark."
"They were staring at Ethan."
"It was you, but it doesn't matter anyway." Lex takes a hold of Clark's hips, turns him around and against the bar. Licking Clark's neck is maybe more than he's allowed to do in a club like this, but he's just finished watching Clark give himself to the crowd and now Lex needs to take him back.
Clark's hands climb up Lex's arms to his head, smooth fingers on smooth skin, pulling Lex away. "Not yet. I want to see the band." He calls the bartender over for more beer. Lex risks a glance to the left - the girls are gone. "These guys are gonna be good," Clark starts, gesturing up to the empty stage and restless crowd. "And they're so cool. Their drummer was totally hitting on Astrid backstage." Lex settles himself on a stool, listening to Clark, the music falling into the background.
The headliners play three encores and Clark won't leave until he's sure they aren't coming back. It's past two before they head home.
Ethan hated the band, and the argument that followed gave Lex a guilty thrill. But Ethan's drunk by the end of the night and he and Clark part with a hug. Then Lex pulls Clark into the car and kisses him over the stick shift because he's jealous.
"You're jealous," Clark teases. Lex eyes him carefully before starting the car.
"No more flirting," he says with his eyes on the road. Lex's attention is focused on the cab in front of him, avoiding Clark's gaze until they get home.
"You don't want me to flirt with you, Lex?"
"Flirting with your best friend," he clarifies.
Clark sinks down into his seat. He shouldn't look so comfortable in such a small car. "You don't want me to flirt with you, Lex?" Clark's saying again. Lex tries to remember how many beers he drank.
Clark pulls off his sweater again. Lex made him put it back on in the club before he left it on a stool and forgot it. Clark throws it in the backseat and starts on his shirt buttons.
"When we stay at your parents' this weekend, Clark, could you at least pretend that we're not fucking regularly?"
"But we are." Clark's shirt is off now, quickly joining the sweater in the back. He's just wearing a t-shirt now, sleeveless, emblazoned with a C. The identity that comes with Clark's new obsession is all about layers.
Movement in the corner of his eye catches Lex's attention. Stopping at a red light, Lex turns, and lets himself watch Clark, casually scratching a stripe of exposed skin above his pants.
"What are you doing, Clark?"
"Flirting with my best friend."
They've been on the road since seven, the sun melting the city away for green and yellow fields. There are a dozen little towns between Metropolis and the rest of the world; they're supposed to be background, not the destination.
"You want me to drive?"
Turning towards the sleepy voice, Lex finds Clark in the same pose from last night. Maybe they didn't go home, maybe they didn't fuck, maybe they did breakfast in the car after Lex turned around and headed straight to Smallville instead.
"I'm fine," Lex says, nodding, as much to convince Clark as himself.
"Okay." Clark stretches with a low grunt, arms going up and his palms laid flat on the roof. In the same movement, a hand comes down to rest on Lex's head, like Clark playing at being sixteen on his first date. Only he's not playing because they've been here before - it was in a movie theatre and Clark was seventeen, but it's the same move. "Just tell me when you need a break," he says, soft, like the fingers on Lex's scalp.
Clark's staring out the window now. The scenery rushes by, too fast, but Lex imagines Clark's eyes moving like his feet and catching everything. Clark once told him about running West to see the ocean. He stood on the beach, more awkward than ever in his flannel and denim, and nothing seemed right. The ocean was too blue and the early morning sun was being filtered through the haze of pollution.
He told Lex how disappointed he was to see it was nothing like the pictures. Lex told him that was what the truth looked like. Clark told him that next time, he'd pay more attention to the scenery on the trip.
Clark hums to the song on the radio, tapping out the beat on Lex's skin. Minutes and miles later, the music fuzzes out and Metropolis is finally behind them. Lex misses the touch when Clark pulls his hand away to turn off the radio, but it's back soon enough, curling around his neck in the empty space between seat and headrest. It's familiar, common even. Lex has trouble concentrating on the road when it's not there. The warm breath at his ear, Clark's whispered "I love you", and gentle squeeze aren't at all the distractions they should be.
Lex doesn't like to think of the way things should be. If things had gone as planned, there wouldn't be Mrs. Kent's pie waiting for him at the end of this road.
04/11/03