Title:Alexander, the Great
Author: roxymissrose
Pairings/Characters:Clark/Lex
Rating:R
Word Count:1504
Summary/prompt: What happens when Lex shows up and his costume matches Clark's better than Chloe's or Lana's?
written for the old_school_clex Halloween Challenge

Many many thanks to danceswithgary, thanks for your sage advice, my dear! You helped make it readable. :) It's silly, fluffy and shmoopy, further ruining my rep as the mistress of pain.



Alexander, The Great

Sometimes I wonder if I stopped whatever I was doing and turned around really, really fast—would Lex look different? It's just…I have this feeling sometimes that something's going on behind my back, some other life is taking place at the corner of my eye, one that's full of—I don’t know. Something—amazing, that I can't share in. Like right now. Here I am at this dance, and Lex comes strolling in looking better than everyone else, looking like he owns the place—like always—and suddenly, everything feels different. More…I don't know…like the air changed, like it's cleaner, fresher?

I know, it's crazy and has nothing to do with what's going on right now. Which is kind of painful. Dances are torture disguised as social events, and dancing in costume is pain on a level even I get. Well, okay, I do sort of like the costume part-- even better, the fact that I'm with Lana, in public, and nothing has blown up or caught fire or tried to electrocute us. That alone makes it a great evening.

Hey. Lex is wearing a Legionnaire's costume, one way better than the one Mom put together for me. Why does Lex always have to top someone?

I think I'm pouting. Am I pouting?

It's weird we chose the same kind of costume. Maybe. I might be wrong about his costume. Maybe he's supposed to be…*somebody*. Famous, of course. I wonder if he's Marc Anthony, too. I think that's what I'm supposed to be. I guess. Lana's Cleopatra so I think that makes me Marc Anthony. Though I could be roman foot soldier number two thousand for all the difference it makes….

I wanted to do the Wizard of Oz. I even had this great lion costume from a few years ago. Mom could have let out the seams a little and lengthened the legs—she's real good at that, y'know? And Lana would've looked real cute dressed like Dorothy, with the short blue dress and all…but nope. No Dorothy for her. She wanted to be Cleo. Cle-o-pat-ra. Queen of the Nile, not some little Kansas farm girl.

She just wanted to show off her boobs. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I mean…I'd rather she show them just to me. I mean…no, that's pretty much what I mean.
Here he comes. Crap. He looks so much better than I do in a skirt…

"Can you cut in?"…he wants to dance with…? Oh. Lana. "Oh, sure, I don't mind, Lana do you mind--"

Of course not. There they go. Look at her, laughing in his face—okay, get a grip. Lex is your friend. Your best friend. He's not about to do anything with your. Girl. Date. Your female friend who might be your girl who's definitely your date tonight. Wave, smile, look pleased…damn it. There they go again, third time around the floor. They look awfully good together. Is it time to interrupt yet? Would it make me look pushy? Is that his hand on her ass? He's smiling.

"Hi guys, glad to see you remembered your way back, ah ha. Thanks for dancing with Lana, Lex—you saved her feet from me." Get stupider, why don’t you. Lana's looking at me like I'm a geek. I am. I'm a big dumb…gee…smiling is a good look on Lex. He looks so comfortable. "Who, me, angry? Don’t be silly, Lex…can I get you guys some punch?"

Why ask if I'm angry? Should I *be* angry? Just because you ignored me and went straight for her? Oh well…I would have done the same I guess…and I'm not her…anything. Besides her friend, I'm her friend, at least. They do look great together. He does look really good. Lex has got nice legs, better than mine. Guess that's why he keeps looking at them…my horrible fat and hairy legs.

There they go, talking again. Lex looks like he's being careful not to touch her. I must have looked upset. He really pays attention to me, picks up on my moods. I mean my feelings…I mean…he looks good in a skirt. Skirt. Wonder what he's wearing under it…hunh. No hair on his legs. No hair. Wonder if he's like that all over…wonder if he's got hair down, I mean in his armpits…wonder if someone spiked the punch, what the hell?

*More* punch, that's what I need. Oops—Lex is looking this way…oh yeah, hiya Lex. Wave, Clark. Wave at Lex, keep smiling…crap, here he comes. "Sure Lex, we can go outside for a minute…want me to grab us some punch?" What the hell is it with me and the punch—I'm like some sugar pusher. "Um…red or orange?"

Lex is staring—God, 'red or orange…' I'm such a dork. Shit. Stop staring at me, thank you.
Great. Now I'm blushing. Gee. It's been a while since he looked at me like…like he actually sees me. He really looks good. And…good. I wonder if he's cold. He looks cold. His poor head. Don’t touch. Don’t touch his head. Do. Not. Touch. "I—what? Am I mad at you for dancing with Lana? Geez, Lex—I told you already—I'm happy you danced with--"

Wow…his hands are warm. And soft—softer than Lana's. Rich people have soft hands…"I promise you Lex, I'm not mad—you're my best friend. You and Lana look good together. Heh. Maybe I am a little jealous." What? Who of…? "Ha-ha. You're really a ton of laughs, you are."

He's…touching, touching, oh gee. "You're, um. Touching." My legs! My hairy fat leg—oh gosh….still touching. "No. No, I don’t mind. I don’t mind. I don't--" Oh god, I can't shut up! I sound stupid—I look stupid. Why can't I shut my mouth? "Lex…what's going on here?"
Oh fuck—he's got that LOOK—the windows are shutting look. No! Don't stop touching! Come back—"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to squeeze your hand, are you okay? I--I didn’t mean for you to move it either, Lex."

He's leaning…I'm leaning…he looks scared. I *feel* scared. Should I move closer? The stupid breastplate—it's real metal. What kind of person has a metal breastplate made for a high school costume party—well, besides Lex, for one. What was *I* thinking?

Closer. I feel his breath on my cheek. He smells nice. I love the way he smells…and feels. Soft. His lips…are soft and. I…remember. The feel of this. He was cold, and then…warm. I didn't know him then. All I wanted was to save his life…make him breathe—oh, he's breathing so hard now--*we* are…."Oh! Oh…wow. Wow."

Yeah. He's smiling, and man, I love that smile…his lips. His eyes. Wow. We kissed. We kissed! Later, okay, later I'll probably freak, but now…*sweet*. "Hunh? What am I supposed to be? What do you mean? Oh—the costume! Well, you know. I'm…I'm. How about you tell me first. Who are you?"

Of course. Now I can see. The breastplate…it's a copy of Alexander's…"Alexander. I should have known. And now, you know who I am." Hephaestion. At least, I am *now*. I pay attention when Lex talks. He thinks I don't, but I do. He's starting to move away, but he's got to stop when I grab his arm, feel kind of bad when he squeaks, and force myself to loosen my grip. "I just—we have to get out of the light." He gets what I'm asking for and heads for the parking lot.

"Lana--" I start to say but he stops and looks at me, not judging just…waiting. Like he's so patient. Like that's true somehow, just because he can pretend to be…I smile, he smiles, and we run to the car. Forget Lana. For tonight…for….

When we get in the car, my whole life changes. I knew that someone else touching me could be better than touching myself but I never imagined it as good as it is...it's so good. He's so gentle. Too gentle.

Maybe if I move—make a noise…

"Uuuuunh." That wasn't the noise I planned to make. "Ah—ah—Lex…" His mouth is so hot, so wet. His tongue is like wet velvet, God, all over me, so hot…"Lex, don’t touch—" dirty—oh fuck. Like burning hot lightning all over me, in me, harder, more. God, just fuck me! I wish…what would it be like if it was his cock instead of--of his finger—shit! I'm going to—I have to—I can't "…stop!" Can't…

"Lex!" Holy shit, I think I lost brain cells. I definitely ruined this costume. Oh. I don't think I've ever seen Lex look so…scared before. "It's okay. It's do much better than okay. I promise."

He's smiling, oh good. I can't stop smiling myself. Right now, at this moment, it feels right—better than anything else. I feel like I fell into that wonderful world I was always just missing, the one at the edge of my eye.

10-30-2007