Pairing: Clark/ Whit, Jason/Whit
Summary: All about what Clark learns on his summer job.
I promise, this one is not going to be a year long never-ending WIP. Pretty much.
The previous parts are here, packing their bags, emptying their bank accounts…road trip!
When he pushed through the Beanery doors, he had to grin—Lana's enthusiastic waving was probably cooling the coffee off on nearby tables….
She was smiling a pert little smile, a curve of the lips that in anyone else he'd have called smirking. She pointed at a giant cup of coffee sitting next to a regular cup on the table. Great, she was treating! He squeezed through the crowd at the door--and stopped short. A familiar scent wafted through the air, tickled his nose—Whit. Whit? And Whit was pushing past him with a grin and a bag of cookies. "Hey."
"…hey?" Oh god, what the hell was going on in Lana's little head? Crap, she was looking so proud of herself…ooooh fuck. She was match-making for fucks sake. He felt his cheeks go warm and Whit smiled up at him from his seat next to Lana. He flashed a Clark a quick amused wink.
It was a nice lunch. Clark thought it was cute how pleased Lana was with herself. She kept smiling at them, dimpling, asking leading questions…Clark was afraid any minute she was going to pass condoms across the table. Whit reached over and patted her hand, murmured, "Babe, relax. You're about to explode."
Clark was about to take a sip of coffee, but gasping in shock and trying to drink at the same time was not a good idea and furthermore being invulnerable didn't mean being immune to slurping coffee down the wrong pipe…his eyes were watering and he was trying to fend off Lana's attempts to whack his back and god forbid, break a hand and the reason he choked slid into the empty seat next to him. A scent he'd recognize in a forest fire slid into his nose.
"Well, well, well, look at us—one big happy family." Jason reached into the bag of cookies and grabbed one—a chocolate chip one too, Clark's favorite. Great, that meant one less for him. Jason took a bite of the cookie. "Whit. You're looking…rested," he smirked. "Lana. Love what you've done with your hair—what d'ya call that—brushing? Clark." He stared at him for a few seconds, and then waved his hand dismissively.
Clark glared at him—fucking giant *jerk*! "Hello Jason," he said, because he was raised to be polite like that. Jason rolled his eyes. Lana smiled at Jason and Clark glanced at her, and swallowed. There was steel in that look…finely honed, knife sharp steel….
"Jason," Whit said softly and just like that Jason heeled, and really, Clark thought—that shouldn't have seemed so fucking hot.
"Was looking for you, Whit," Jason said.
"Yeah?" Whit smiled, a warm lingering 'make Lana look dismayed' smile. A smile that made Clark's stomach tie itself in knots. He was such a fucking idiot—a stooge. An easily led, hormone driven, sucker and. Look at Whit, the son-of-a-bitch. All cheesin' and shit, oh hi Jason, oh let's go have some really loud sex somewhere not where Clark is, the loser--Why can't Whit smile like that at me?
"Yeah," he said, "I'm going to have to…beg off this weekend. I'll be in Metropolis. *She* wants to look for apartments."
"She's looking for an apartment for you? But that's cool. No dorms for you."
Jason looked disgusted, exhausted. "For us. Me and. Her."
"For—no Jason—don’t do it. Going to college is your chance to break away—"
"Yeah well, nothing's written in stone, right? Anyway, I'm just—trying to keep the peace."
"Jason, you know it's not…in your best interest." Lana, said, ever so gently and diplomatically. "Did those numbers we gave you help at all?"
"I haven't actually got around to calling any of them yet. Maybe when I get back. Listen, you guys are just over-reacting to things. She's kind of high strung—worse since my father left. Maybe…maybe we both need some help." He shook himself, and his face tightened again, sardonic Jason back in charge. "Okay. I've gotta go. Enjoyed our lunch…oh. Tut-tut. Look at that—no more chocolate chips. Aw." He smirked at Clark. He reached across the table and grabbed Whit's coffee and drank it down. He put the cup down with a sigh, stood and leaned over to Whit's side of the table. He grabbed a handful of his hair and tilted his head back and kissed him.
No, *kissed* him.
It was sex without involving other body parts. It was the hottest kiss he'd ever seen and it went on and on and…on, until there was total silence in the Beanery, like you could have heard a pin drop, or an alien spore infected person bite their lip and struggle to keep their hands from crushing their coffee cup. It was close. Lana said, "oh my…" She looked a little warm, a little pink…hell yeah, she was probably as turned on as he was—you'd have to be dead not to be, Clark thought.
He didn't know which end of that kiss he wanted to be on.
He didn’t know what the hell made Jason do it….
The paralysis that had descended on the Beanery as if by magic vanished—just like a bubble popping, normal sound swept the place and of course doubled because…well, because SVHS's BMOC was just now swapping spit with someone who was decidedly not his girlfriend and had way too much…dick. Didn't matter that the girlfriend was sitting right next to him openmouthed and red cheeked and looked to be about a step from cheering them on and anyway--dudes, sucking face, gross!
Jason let Whit pull back, reluctance in every fiber of his being. He let Whit's lip slip from his mouth slowly, rocked back on his heels, a wet red smirk on his face.
Whit looked a little shell-shocked. "Wo-ow. Okay."
Clark could tell plenty of people wanted to say something, and there was muttering a-plenty—and maybe a cheer or two, kind of quietly mumbled behind a napkin. That was cool. Clark sat motionless in his chair and pretended to enjoy his cup of coffee. He wasn’t embarrassed to be sitting with them, he really wasn't. Besides, he couldn't stand up at the moment if he wanted to. Better to wait…just a bit. He took a quick sip of the cooling coffee. Maybe a minute or two….
Whit looked at Lana and then at him and smiled. "I'll be back in a minute," he said and followed Jason outside. Clark swore there was an actual breeze caused by heads snapping their way…the buzz rose again when the door shut behind Whit and Jay.
"So." Lana dimpled, and blushed.
"When did you…?" Clark played with his nearly empty cup, eyes on the table.
"About five minutes after I got home that day. When I thought about our conversation and what you weren't saying very loudly. And what Whit *was* saying. And I thought—" She giggled. Giggled. Clark blushed. It was almost as cute as when Whit did it.
"You thought you'd give Whit a going away gift. Me."
"Well, when you put it that way it sounds almost sleazy but…yes. Good idea? Bad idea?" She waited.
Clark grinned. "Great idea. Maybe it would have been nice to let me in on it. But thanks. Uh…"
She sighed and leaned back in her chair. "Yes. There's a little problem. Whit's outside with Jason, and you're in here with me." She laughed a little and Clark leaned over and kissed her cheek.
"Don’t worry about him—or me," he said. "It's going all going to work out, I feel it."
He was walking home the long way, thinking…about Jason, about Whit and his ex-girlfriend, and the increasingly odd way he fit into this. Whit definitely was interested in him, but it was pretty obvious he had something for Jason that went beyond…FWBness. And Jason acted like he owned Whit when he wasn't rolling over so Whit could scratch his tummy…Clark slowed. Ouch. That brought images. He swallowed and kept on. A car full of jocks rode by and they took time out of their busy schedules to yell faggot out the window. Youth of America, he thought, wondered idly if it would be wrong to throw a rock through one of the tires. He walked until he was on the outskirts of town. Apparently his dick wasn't the only thing that has a mind of its own. His feet seemed to have decided that a trip out to Jason's mother's house was just the thing.
Sundown was going though it's colorful stage by the time he made it to the odd ranch house on the little hill. He stopped at the stone wall, listened. It was quiet; the only sound he could hear was some really bad drippy music—sounded like an elevator threw up in their living room. His feet, the enormous traitors, were taking him up the driveway, and now his cock had to throw its two cents in—it was getting crowded in there with all the rebellious body parts….
Clark studiously avoided the steer horn shaped door knocker and his pounding on the door yielded a hissed "State your business." The door cracked open just enough to reveal a heavily mascaraed eye rolling up at him.
Clark barely suppressed a shudder. The door opened wider and there she stood, an impeccably dressed and coiffed china doll, a drink in one hand, the other clutching the door frame so tightly her little knuckles were white. She swayed a little, not noticeable except to alien eyes. Clark was regretting his extraordinary sense of smell, thanks Ma and Pa Alien. At the moment, the ability to smell real good was--not. Jason's mother smelled like she was marinating herself in booze…and oddly, mayonnaise.
"Hi, is…can…" Can Jason come out to play, Mrs. MajorNutJob?
"I have it Mother; it's one of the boys from the crew."
Jason's mother's face twisted like *she* smelled something bad. "Oh. That. Well, don’t be long dinner's in," she glanced at the hunk of ice pretending to be something as mundane as a watch, "a half hour." She wandered away.
"You guys eat dinner this late?" Clark marveled. Rich people. They're so funny
"Are you kidding? I ate a long time ago. Dinner's a laugh around here. Cook leaves at six so Mother drinks her dinner. If she actually gets hungry, Cook has a plate—fuck," Jason slapped himself in the forehead. "What the fuck am I discussing my private life with you for?"
"I listen really good," Clark said.
"You mean well," Jason interrupted kind of vaguely and stepped outside. "So, did you come to bitch at me for this afternoon? Don’t worry; no one's going to hurt Whitney. Most guys are scared shitless of him."
"Really? But he's so nice…"
"That's because he's never tried to kill you on the field. So. Did you like fucking him?"
"I can see why you make him hot—you’re so fucking articulate. Come here." He looked at Clark, and tossed his head. "Come *here*," he said again, and lo and behold—there was a string connected from his cock to Jason's finger, when he crooked it Clark found himself moving forward with no control at all. Feet and dick once again working against him. He didn’t want to get closer to Jason because frankly, Jason scared the shit out of him. And made him hot enough to fry eggs on…a vivid picture of himself wearing eggs flooded his mind--Clark had about half a second to wonder about himself and then he stopped moving because he was in front of Jason who was putting hands on his shoulders and…
Hunh. He never realized that he was that much taller than Jason.
And then, oh. So hot…the inside of Jason's mouth was so hot and wet. Silk, velvet…he couldn't decide what described the feeling best and then Jason reached up, grabbed his chin and tilted his head down a little and it was even better. He gripped Jay's hips to steady himself. He felt lightheaded and a little wobbly; his heart was banging in his chest. Jason was sucking his tongue. It sent bright sharp tugs straight to his cock. He was making these little sounds too, like "mmm" and "unh", and Clark could not believe how incredibly fucking hot just those little noises were. Jason had his lower lip in his mouth and pulled, bit down, licked…he was riding Jay's hand, rubbing hard as he could into his palm without hurting him, oh God, don’t hurt him, remember to be careful and don’t tighten too much, watch your hands and—and—don’t forget to breathe and God!--this was too good.
Jason was feeling it too, he pulled away to breathe and he was bright red, his mouth was swollen and wet and shiii-iit…Clark twitched, flexed hard and his boxers were getting warm and wet. Any minute he could come. He could come he could come....
Jason shuddered, almost pounced on him, jerked his head down and moaned right into his mouth.
And then pushed him away. The fuck?
"Damn it Clark. No wonder even your little straight friends have a crush on you. Jesus…it's been forever since I've felt on the edge just from making out. You're freakishly hot. Whit would be stupid not to…but that's between you and him. I think…maybe it would bother him to know I fucked you." Jason narrowed his eyes and stared hard at Clark. "Wonder if I could get him interested in a threesome for real?" he muttered.
Oh shit. Oh shit. Maggoty mac n' cheese rotten chunky milk zombie brain eating puppies
Clark remembered the pool house and Whit saying he wanted them both and at the time Whit's cock had been in Jason's ass and—and—Clark's eyes rolled back in his head for a second, his cock jumped and his boxers were wetter and wow, that was some noise he just made judging by Jason's eyes….
"Get out of here Clark." Jason stepped off the porch and led Clark to the driveway. "Go home, go to bed, do whatever it is freakishly tall reets do by themselves at night, and go to sleep."
Clark took a stumbling step or two down the driveway, grinning and blushing, feeling like a—a massive idiot. He heard Jason curse and then he called out to him.
"Clark…I'll be looking for you when I get back from the Trop." He smirked, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Gotta see if the rest of you tastes as good. In fact, I wanna know what you taste like with Whit…"
He laughed when Clark stumbled. Damn it. It was getting harder and harder to walk.
"Don’t kill yourself tripping over your feet in the dark, dork king. Later." He bounced back up the stairs and into the house—Clark scanned it quickly and The Bitch was asleep, thank god. Clark walked gingerly home, not even bothering with imagining puking, puss-filled gopher guts…besides, he was terrified that he was beginning to find those images kind of hot…