He’s not nervous. He’s not. He’s just anticipating. Anticipating a not-date because a not-date is nothing to be nervous about. It’s two friends going out to a concert. Going to a concert in a limo, and god, who goes on a not-date in a limo? Clark tries to imagine asking Pete to go to a Radiohead concert with him in a limo and laughs. Pete would ask if he could bring along some girls.
“It’s an opportunity, Clark. Getting Lana away from the quarterback and showing her a good time is the first step,” Lex had said when Clark told him, and while Clark is trying not to think about it that way, because it is a not-date and getting his hopes up will definitely cause something weird and Smallville-like to happen, like a freak hail storm that will close the roads and get them stuck somewhere where he’ll trip and get mud on clothes.
Clothes.
He has no idea what to wear. If it was just Chloe or Pete, he’d grab the first thing in his closet and put it on, and yeah, they like to make fun of his plaid, but it’s comfortable and he’s use to it, so it’s not a big deal. But Lana – Lana doesn’t date people who look like farm kids.
You sound like a fourteen year old girl, Clark. Chloe’s voice snarks at him in his own head. And OK, maybe he does. A little. But it’s not like he’s been on a lot of dates or not-dates with girls, so it’s new territory.
Of course Lex would know what to wear. Those tight, long-sleeved dress shirts that cost more than Clark’s parents make in a year have half of the women in Smallville turning around to watch him when he walks down the street, and Clark has never, ever saw him look the slightest bit wrinkled, like Lex’s shirts wouldn’t dare make Lex look less than perfect. Maybe there’s something about really expensive fabric that makes it stay perfectly ironed, but Mr. Flannigan at the bank has a lot of money too, and he never looks so… put together.
He should call Lex. Lex would be the perfect person to call and ask. If what Chloe says is right, Lex has had more than his share of dates. And Clark can believe that, something about the way Lex moves, the way he holds his head when he looks at you. It’s like Lex doesn’t see anything else, doesn’t hear anyone but you, like everything in the world just pulls back a bit. It’s overwhelming and – and hot.
Not that Clark thinks Lex is hot. Well, he does, but in a purely observational way. Sure, he might stand a little too close to Lex and smile a little bigger for him than other people, but that’s because they’re friends, and not for the reasons some of the football players were snickering about in the bathroom. And, if sometimes, late at night, he thinks of Lex’s mouth, of the scar on Lex’s top lip and wonders what it would feel like against his fingers, against his lips… well, that’s just curiosity and Lex’s fault for having a soft mouth that looks like he’s just been kissed, for walking like sex, for that voice that promises…
Clark adjusts his pants and reaches for the phone. Maybe he’ll call Chloe instead.
Cool - I do miss s1 Clark
“It’s an opportunity, Clark. Getting Lana away from the quarterback and showing her a good time is the first step,” Lex had said when Clark told him, and while Clark is trying not to think about it that way, because it is a not-date and getting his hopes up will definitely cause something weird and Smallville-like to happen, like a freak hail storm that will close the roads and get them stuck somewhere where he’ll trip and get mud on clothes.
Clothes.
He has no idea what to wear. If it was just Chloe or Pete, he’d grab the first thing in his closet and put it on, and yeah, they like to make fun of his plaid, but it’s comfortable and he’s use to it, so it’s not a big deal. But Lana – Lana doesn’t date people who look like farm kids.
You sound like a fourteen year old girl, Clark. Chloe’s voice snarks at him in his own head. And OK, maybe he does. A little. But it’s not like he’s been on a lot of dates or not-dates with girls, so it’s new territory.
Of course Lex would know what to wear. Those tight, long-sleeved dress shirts that cost more than Clark’s parents make in a year have half of the women in Smallville turning around to watch him when he walks down the street, and Clark has never, ever saw him look the slightest bit wrinkled, like Lex’s shirts wouldn’t dare make Lex look less than perfect. Maybe there’s something about really expensive fabric that makes it stay perfectly ironed, but Mr. Flannigan at the bank has a lot of money too, and he never looks so… put together.
He should call Lex. Lex would be the perfect person to call and ask. If what Chloe says is right, Lex has had more than his share of dates. And Clark can believe that, something about the way Lex moves, the way he holds his head when he looks at you. It’s like Lex doesn’t see anything else, doesn’t hear anyone but you, like everything in the world just pulls back a bit. It’s overwhelming and – and hot.
Not that Clark thinks Lex is hot. Well, he does, but in a purely observational way. Sure, he might stand a little too close to Lex and smile a little bigger for him than other people, but that’s because they’re friends, and not for the reasons some of the football players were snickering about in the bathroom. And, if sometimes, late at night, he thinks of Lex’s mouth, of the scar on Lex’s top lip and wonders what it would feel like against his fingers, against his lips… well, that’s just curiosity and Lex’s fault for having a soft mouth that looks like he’s just been kissed, for walking like sex, for that voice that promises…
Clark adjusts his pants and reaches for the phone. Maybe he’ll call Chloe instead.