Title: Reading is Fundamental
Author. Angela
Rating: PG Spoilers: None
Summary and/or challenge: Clark writes slashfic, but hasn't shown anyone his  work. Lex 'accidentally' finds some, reads it and gets an idea of seducing  his friend. (Christine)
Feedback: ilikeprettyboys@trust-me.com (yes, it's a real email address *g*)
Disclaimer: I don't own  The Clex. If I did, do you think Smallville would still be considered a family program?
Beta: Mandy Author's
Notes: Part of the ClexFest at:  http://www.kardasi.com/Lexclusive/ClexFest  
Thanks to Mandy for being the best frickin' beta reader in the world.  
Special thanks to Lords of Acid for inspiration. When you get right down to  it, it's all about the music.
Extra special thanks to CLFF for the  challenge.

READING IS FUNDAMENTAL

Lex was seated in his office, leaning back in his chair with a thick  notebook held tightly in his hands. He had quit trying to convince himself  that no, he didn't really recognize the handwriting on the pages. No, he  didn't know the author of the...interesting material he was skimming  through. No, Clark really didn't know what *that* word meant...

It couldn't be. Lex knew the secretive boy probably had some hobbies that  were a little odd, at least by Smallville standards, but this couldn't be  one of them.

Writing fanfiction was one thing, but writing slash was a whole nother  situation. Especially when the sex scenes read as if the author really did  know what gay sex was all about, down to the most intricate details of  foreplay. It was something that unworldly, straight, underage, virgin sons  of Kansas farmers didn't do. They. Just. Didn't.

He closed the notebook, noticing for the first time that there was a note  attached on the front of the cover. He didn't recognize the script, but the  attitude was unmistakable.

Getting straight to the point, the message read: I hope this little present  will give you some balls.

Only one person came to mind. He couldn't imagine anyone else being forward  enough to leave such a parcel in his mailbox, nor could imagine anyone else  being daring enough to inform Lex Luthor that he needed to get some balls.

He picked up the phone and dialed Gabriel Sullivan's home phone number,  knowing that he would be at the plant. Which was just fine, because Gabe  wasn't the one he wanted to talk to. Pursuing this could get him in trouble,  maybe even get him thrown in prison, but he'd come to think that Clark was  worth the risk. Besides, Chloe was already suspicious of his feelings for  Clark. She hadn't gotten into anything specific, but she made it obvious to  Lex that she was on to something.

As the phone rang, he wondered what had happened to the days when people  didn't play games, they just came right out and said what they wanted to  your face. Probably sucked into the same cultural blackhole along with  chivalry and disco. Things would be so much simpler...

There was a click and the sound of a strong feminine voice on the other end.

"Hello?"

"We don't really know each other that well, so do you really think we're at  the gift-giving stage already, Ms. Sullivan?"

"I guess there's no point in denying that I know what you're talking  about..."

"Your instincts are infallible."

A brief pause and Lex could tell it was because Chloe was waiting for him to  say something. She was waiting for a reaction, some kind of indication as to  what was going through his mind. He wasn't going to give her a reaction or  an indication because he was extremely curious as to what exactly she wanted  from him.

"So is it enough incentive for you to finally make a move on our oblivious  farmboy?"

"Are you expecting me to start hitting on Clark just because he happened to  decide to explore idle curiosity through writing porn?"

"Clark is gay, Lex, and you're all he ever thinks about. It's practically  common sense, which explains why no one else in this town sees it. God, why  am I the one who always has to point everything out for people?" This was  the point when Lex decided he really liked this girl. He also decided that  Clark must be gay if he couldn't see himself as anything more than friends  with her.

"And don't even bother asking why he's never brought it to your attention.  He refuses to believe you'd ever reciprocate his feelings."

"Clark must've told you about it, though."

"He didn't have to tell me anything. I've known about him before I found  that notebook in his room. I've watched him fawn over Lana for so long and  then..." He could hear feet shuffling and a sigh. Yes, love was and always  would be unkind to teenagers, you could be sure of that. "I know Clark loves  Lana and I as friends, but that's all we are to him. I just want him to be  happy, and you're the only one who can give him the happiness I want him to  have."

Lex hesitated. It was odd to be discussing this sort of thing with a teenage  girl, but even stranger was the fact that he didn't feel threatened by her.  He didn't doubt the sincerity of her actions, and there was something  vaguely...giddy about her tone of voice, like an avid soap opera fan who's  favorite couple is about to marry and live happily ever after.

"Are you sure?"

"Geez, would you drop the completely out-of-character cautiousness already?  I wouldn't tell you all of this if I thought it would hurt him."

"Thank you, Chloe."

"Just make sure you don't let him know I found that notebook. If Clark finds  out we know he writes, he's liable to slip into a coma from embarrassment."

Lex chuckled. She was probably right. Lex hung up the phone, leaned back in  his chair, and exhaled slowly.

So. One of his best friend's best friends had just give him what was the  best news he'd gotten in...forever? It was quite possibly the best  information anyone could have ever given him. Not necessarily information,  but conformation. He'd suspected Clark wasn't as straight as he made himself  out to be. Lana was so typical that it was easy to believe the  girl-next-door fantasy was an attempt to either fool those around him, or to  fool himself. He'd been apprehensive to directly approach Clark on the  subject, so he had settled for throwing a hint whenever the opportunity  presented itself. Clark did flirt back sometimes, but, as ridiculous as it  seemed, Lex almost felt like he needed permission before going any further.

How amusing would that be to everyone if they knew?

How long had he been waiting for this? Every thought of what he couldn't  have exacerbated by the aching memory of tasting that mouth before,  breathing the air that was being forced into his lungs, breathing Clark's  breath. Being one with Clark for one brief moment and knowing it was  something he'd never experience again. He remembered Clark's expression  changing from concern to relief to the sudden terror of realization.

*"I could've sworn I hit you."*

Could've sworn he'd killed him, God...

*"If you did, I'd be...I'd be dead."

Lex still had nightmares about that day, except in his dreams he always hit  Clark. In a slow motion that only happens in dreams, Lex saw Clark's  surprised expression, saw him realize an instant too late that he needed to  move, and then there was a sickening thud as steel connected with flesh and  an explosion of crimson across the windshield as it shattered with the  impact of Clark's body.

In his nightmares, he did kill Clark. It was frighteningly real sometimes,  like some of what the dreams were made of were authentic memories.

But those were just dreams. Just *dreams,* they weren't real.  Clark was  alive. He could breathe and talk and smile and move. He was perfect.

'Perfectly gay,' Chloe's voice interjected, and Lex almost snorted.

He picked up the phone again and dialed the Kents' number. Let it ring. And  ring. And ring. Lex was just about to hang up, thinking that maybe Clark had  gone with his parents to the farmer's convention after all, when there was a  click.

" 'lo?" Clark answered in a sleep-thickened voice.

Immediately, almost involuntarily, Lex imagined the boy sprawled out on his  stomach on a couch that wasn't long enough for him, feet dangling off one  end, an arm curled underneath his chest while the other was flung over the  back of the couch. Then he imagined Clark stumbling to the phone, only half  awake, hair ruffled and clothes wrinkled. How...cute.

"Hello?" He managed to get the entire word out this time, though he didn't  sound as if he was completely awake yet.

"Hey, Clark. Were you asleep?"

"Yeah, I kinda dozed off. A Tale of Two Cities isn't as interesting as Mrs.  Wilson made it out to be."

"Romance in the midst of violent revolution, you don't find that  interesting?"

"...No?"

"If you weren't my friend, I think I'd be offended."

"Some of us like a little more excitement and a little less sap in our  reading material."

"Well, I'm sure one of these days you'll acquire a taste for books that  don't have pictures in them."

"Give me a break, Lex. Literature aside, what's up?"

"Just managing the local shit factory, got bored, and decided to call the  only person in Smallville who doesn't think I'm a parasite." Lex could  almost hear Clark wincing on the other end. Reminding himself that he wasn't  exactly on good terms with the citizens of Smallville had become quite a  habit.

"I'm not the only one who believes...who *knows* you're not your father. I  wish you'd trust me on that one."

"I trust you, Clark, but that's because I know I won't regret it." Clark had  his share of secrets; Lex knew that. Although Lex was positive the boy had  had plenty of practice, his technique at trying to cover up his lies was  less than perfect. But Lex also knew that his friend would confess to  whatever it was he was hiding when he was ready. It would take time.  Especially if Clark had been betrayed before. Time was one thing Lex was  willing to grant Clark and only Clark.

"Reaffirming my status with the locals wasn't why I called, though. You up  for some in-depth discussion concerning Dickens and literary devices?"

"Gee...Is that how you get your kicks these days? Discussing a piece of  classic literature with a teenager?"

"Smartass." Then there as a giggle on the other end. A *giggle.* "I'm trying  to perpetuate your academic success and you're making jokes? Or has the  elder Kent told you not to accept even that from me?" Clark was wincing  again, there was no doubt in Lex's mind. Reminding himself that he wasn't  one of Jonathan Kent's favorite people had become a bit of habit, too.

"Seriously Lex, I'd appreciate the help. You don't even have to worry about  my dad, because the farmer's convention isn't over 'till Sunday."

How wonderfully convenient. "I'm on my way, and I better not find you asleep  with the book dropped on the floor."

"You won't, I promise. See you when you get here."

As Lex hung up the phone, grabbed his keys, and headed out to his garage,  Clark was speed-reading through the remainder of the novel. Dickens suddenly  seemed a lot more interesting than he had before.

_______________________________________

One hour later, the two young men were sitting on the worn couch in the loft  and had established that a Tale of Two Cities, despite the gratuitous  foreshadowing, could be interesting, Madame Defarge was indeed a  bloodthirsty psycho, and Sydney Carton was only an extremely lonely and  misunderstood individual.

"You don't think he was just a drunk who continued to desire something he'd  never have?"

"The guy just wanted to be happy, and it wasn't like he was a terrible  person." Clark flipped through the book looking for...ah, there it was,  underlined in purple. " ' When he cared to talk, he talked well; but the  cloud of caring for nothing, which overshadowed him with such a fatal  darkness, was very rarely pierced by the light within him.' See? Ultimately,  he had a good heart."

"I'm impressed, Clark. You even have evidence to back up your opinion," Lex  commented with a playful smirk. "Seems like you've worked up quite a defense  for the Fellow of No Delicacy."

"I was kind of...drawing from personal experience," Clark explained quietly,  staring at the dark green book in his hands and instantly wishing he hadn't  said that, *really* wishing he had just kept his mouth shut or just smiled  or something. He would feel the uncomfortable warmth of a slight blush  threatening to surface, but he fought it back.

"Drawing from personal experience is what a lot of writers do, Clark. You  ever thought about..."

"God, no. I wouldn't be any good at it." So much for fighting off the  inevitable. Clark was positive his face was turning a lovely shade of red.

"I don't know why you think that. I bet you'd be good at it."

Clark just smiled uneasily, staring at the floor boards in an obvious  attempt to avoid eye contact. Of course, Clark had gotten used to almost  everything about him being obvious. "So um, about Carton...I think he could  have had a chance with Lucy, if Darnay had been out of the picture."

"All things considered, Darnay would've been the better candidate to turn  Carton in the right direction."

"Really?" The curiosity was evident in Clark's voice and face. He was also  thankful for the change in subject. For a split second, he was terrified  that maybe Lex had somehow...but how in the world would he have found out?  There was no way, and Clark assured himself that he was just being paranoid.  Really, that gleam in Lex's eye had been nothing but his  imagination...really.

"Of course. They're complete opposites. Their contrasts compliment each  other, creating the perfect platform for a harmonious relationship. Charles  is the character with a certain purity and innocence about him, and Carton  is the corrupted fellow who despises himself. Light and dark, yin and yang."

"Never thought about it like that before." That was a lie, but hopefully Lex  wouldn't know the difference. "I'll be sure to being that up in class on  Monday."

"It's a valid point."

"I doubt Mrs. Wilson is going to explore that particular aspect of their  relationship, Lex."

"So you're going above and beyond the call of duty. Or are you content with  being mediocre?"

"I'm content with not being laughed at when I don't bring up the possibility  that Carton and Darnay might have made a good couple." He went to work on  bending the corners of the cover back, creating what his first grade teacher  had called "dog ears," and then added: "Even if the logic is sound."

Clark took a chance, turned to look at Lex, and was relieved to see him  grinning in amusement and something else. He wasn't quite sure what that  something else was, but he was sure that he liked it, whatever it might  mean.

"So the book wasn't that bad, was it?"

"It was okay, I guess. I still prefer Ray Bradbury or Orson Scott Card to  this guy any day of the week," Clark said as he tossed the book onto the  wooden table.

"You like science fiction?"

"Aliens. Space Voyages. Sinister Carnivals. It's all a lot easier to relate  to."

"I imagine so."

"What about you?"

"In a minute. I want to do something first."

He was through with prolonging what he'd come over to the Kent farm to do.  He wanted something, the same something he'd wanted for a long time, and he  was going to get it.

Clark didn't realize what was happening until Lex's lips were on his and he  closed his eyes, willing himself not to do something stupid, like pull away.  He wanted it, but he was struggling not to tremble. This time, the mouth  against his was warm and inviting instead of cold and clammy, as it had been  the first time he'd felt it. He forced himself to relax, allowing Lex to  take control, and just focused on feeling Lex's lips as they moved on his.

The boy's lips were as soft as Lex remembered them to be, and they parted  slightly in a gesture of approval, exposing the sweet warmth of Clark's  mouth. He tasted like cinnamon and there was vague flavor of toothpaste. The  kiss grew sloppy and wet, becoming something a lot more satisfying then the  gentle experimental nature of the first tentative contact.

"What was that for?" Clark asked, almost timidly, after they broke apart.

"Not exactly the reaction I was expecting..."

"I mean, I liked it. I just...why?"

"Well, you had some well thought out observations and were wide-awake when I  got here. It's customary to reward people when they've been good."

"I get a truck for saving your life and a kiss for half-assing some literary  commentary?"

"A truck wasn't the first thing that came to my mind, but I thought it in  bad taste to try and seduce you after I'd just nearly killed you." He ran  his fingers through Clark's dark hair, pulling them closer until he could  feel Clark's warm breath against his face.

"Hey Lex?" Clark whispered coyly, looking at Lex through his eyelashes.

"Hmm?"

"What do I have to do to get more than a kiss?"

 ~The End~