For carlanesses, who requested Clark/Lex with the prompt of “Stomping in the door like kids, peeling off layers and flinging clods of snow in all directions.”

 

Super Gluing Cracks

 

Thanksgiving

 

The lights flash dizzyingly bright, and Clark thinks he ought to be used to them by now and knows he never will be. He wants to scream, or just break something but there are people with cameras and he might be upset but he’s not that dim. It’s not like fights with Lex are few and far between anymore; but this one had been quiet instead of loud and the feeling doesn’t sit well in Clark’s stomach. Louder fights are over faster. The quiet ones are like ripping band-aids off the slow way. His arm loosens its hold on Lex’s, but it only causes Lex to grip tighter to his in response.

 

“Mr. Kent, turn this way!” One of the photographers from the Washington Post yelled. Clark pretends that he’d heard the…request….from the other direction and bestows a dazzlingly white smile at the photographers on the opposite side of the rope. Fuck you too, paparazzi. Say what you wanted about him or Lois, but at least they don’t stalk people for money.

 

It had been a couple of years now, but everyone still wanted inside of the unlikely relationship of one of the most prominent United States senators and his Pulitzer Prize winning boyfriend. Clark didn’t see that changing anytime soon, and neither did Lex.

 

The conversation on that very subject in the limo hadn’t helped matters any.

 

He can feel Lex’s arm twitch, meaning he’d realized what Clark had done with the reporter, and normally Clark could look forward to playful teasing about it tonight but that wouldn’t be happening this time. He’d be lucky if he even got a sentence out of Lex before he exited stage left to his office at home.

 

They were inside blissfully quickly. Clark sees that Lex is about to speak, and he’s not up for it just yet. Lex could ask what he asked half an hour ago that he still hadn’t come up with an answer for: “Clark…is…is—are we worth it?”

 

Clark has never been so uncertain of the answer before. Instead he clasps the nearest hand to him and does the old meet and greet dance of ages. Lex’s mouth twists into a tight line, but soon a smile is pasted on and he’s doing the same.

 

They don’t get home until two that morning and Lex is tired but Clark still needs to check on a couple of situations in Mongolia and Peru so he leaves Lex then and he’s not back until seven in the morning.


The bed is already remade and he knows Lex has been in meetings for half an hour now already. Clark shoves down the sheets again and tries not to care. He can get an hour in before he’s due to the Planet.

 

He should still be stuffed from the three helpings at Thanksgiving dinner, but the turkey in the White House had been dry and nothing like his mom’s so he’d only had one serving.

 

It was disturbing that Lex still wanted to live there some day.


***

Clark’s at home that night, staring at the mug Lois had given him for Christmas last year. It had a tiny crack in it from when he’d once set it down a little too hard, but now the crack had become a larger chip missing.

 

There’s a parallel here, he thinks, but he doesn’t want to examine it too closely. He does a quick check in Peru again, and is still home before he feels the bed depress slightly from Lex’s weight. He can tell Lex is trying to discern just how heavily Clark is sleeping, and he decides not to hide the fact he’s awake.


Lex pretends not to notice and pulls the covers up. Clark blinks hard and it’s the sleep deprivation, got to be, because he’s sleeping soon.

 

Not very well though, apparently. He feels the bed rise and his eyes slit open to follow Lex out of the room. He knows where Lex is going, and he knows he does it a couple times a month, usually after he hasn’t slept for a couple days or has spent too much time in interviews. Clark doesn’t like to intrude.

 

Tonight—tonight’s different though. He’s up and out the bedroom door, taking the stairs by twos until he’s in the private garage they own.

 

Lex will never be able to part with any of them, he knows. He’s sitting in the blue Mercedes tonight.

 

Clark pads over to the car, silent, a practical ninja even, but Lex still knows.

 

“Can’t sleep?” Clark asks after he’s pulled open the door. Lex smiles up thinly, shaking his head. Clark motions for Lex to slide over, and Lex doesn’t even ask, just glides across the seats.

 

So it’s safe to say that Lex is surprised when Clark reaches over and practically drapes his body over Lex in the cramped confines of the car. Clark eases back the driver’s seat and pulls Lex on top of him, so fast they’re both breathing hard.

 

“I missed you.” He tells Lex simply, and that really must have been the right thing to say because Lex’s mouth is on his, his tongue working its way behind Clark’s teeth, in his throat, and God, God, this feels so good.

 

“I fucking love you.” Lex growls into his ear and Clark grins even as he bites Lex’s neck, licks it to soothe.

 

Lex is a romantic sometimes.

 

***

Christmas

 

“You said we’d be back in Smallville for Christmas!” Clark is yelling, and when he’s angry enough to actually raise his voice, the staff looks bewildered and nervous, so nervous that Lex generally dismisses them after a few minutes.

 

It’s the same today, only this time they’re glad to get out so they can get home to their families, Clark thinks.

 

Where he and Lex ought to be. Clark can speed home anytime he wants, and he even knows that Lex can’t leave now, not when he’s so close to securing key environmental support for a bill that is up in one of the committees Lex chairs.

 

It doesn’t mean Clark can’t be upset though. After all: “Lex, you promised.”

 

Lex exhales, finally looking up from the white paper he’d been practically boring holes into. “I know. I did. It took longer than I thought it would!” He’s yelling back now.

 

“I asked you for one thing for Christmas, Lex. One. Thing. Just to spend some time with my parents, at home, for Christmas dinner, Lex. I did not ask for—for beaches, and Hawaii’s warm weather version of Christmas! I want some snow!” Clark shouts irrationally.

“You see your parents plenty.” Lex says defensively, but Clark can see the uneasy fidgeting.

 

“I might, since I can get home in less than ten minutes. You however, are a completely different story.” Lex is always in Washington, Metropolis, New York, Gotham—anywhere but Smallville.

 

Clark can see Lex stiffening, and damn, this conversation isn’t going anywhere he wanted it to. “Lex—“ he tries again, forcing his voice to its normal volume.

 

“Just—forget it Clark. Look, go home if you want. And give your parents my apologies.”

 

“Lex, that’s not the point and you know it!” Oh. Back to the shouting again.

 

“What exactly is the point, Clark?” Lex’s voice is perfectly modulated, controlled, and that gets Clark angrier.

 

Lex is always in control.


Lex has to be in control.

 

Lex expects that if you give him an inch you’re really inviting him to take not only the whole mile, but the blocks and towns and trees surrounding it.

 

And Clark’s always been willing to give the inch, but he’s tired now. And it is balmy, and hot when it’s Christmas, when it should be snowing and blustery and just awful weather.

 

It’s this that finally pushes Clark to say: “The point is Lex, that I am going home. Like I promised.” Clark shoves the chair he’d already vacated into place; the table shakes.

 

He thinks he hears Lex say his name when he’s halfway out the door, but he’s not sure if he’s imagining it and he’s not about to turn around and ask.

 

He could just run home, but that wouldn’t work for two reasons. One being that everyone in this hotel knows he and Lex came together, so if he leaves suddenly, it will be in every newspaper tomorrow.

 

Merry fuc--Christmas, he thinks.

 

So no. It’s going to have to be the old-fashioned way. Something came up back home, and he’ll. take a flight like everyone else, and he’ll. smile and they won’t smell the blood in the water. Clark’s surprised to hear that there are still seats on a flight to Metropolis, but he’s not about to question his good fortune.

 

***

 

He’s clambering down the stairs when he sees an all too familiar figure waiting for him at the end of the staircase.

 

“Have a happy holiday, Lex.” He says stiffly, and cringes the moment the words come out of his mouth. He’s in the right here, he knows he is, but the way he’s behaving doesn’t exactly back him up on it. He’s about to walk past Lex when Lex curses under his breath and grabs his arm. Clark’s now being pulled along with Lex, who is really quite strong when he wants to be. “I have a flight to catch. We can talk when you get back to Metropolis.” He says, even as he allows himself to be pulled.

 

Clark’s suddenly aware of a loud whirl just outside the patio and he stops in place. “What’s out there?”

 

Lex blows out a breath. “Your Christmas present, Clark. Take a look, then you can go.”

It’s not anything close to a request, and Clark thinks he resents that. But—he’s also curious. He could look outside but that wouldn’t be fair. Lex knows this, that’s why he’s smirking. Clark would turn around but he’s the only person on the planet who can see Lex’s heart beating two times fast as normal and his breath is coming in shallower pants.

 

Clark swings open the door nonchalantly and—freezes.

 

In more ways than one. It’s fucking *cold*.

 

And snowing. Snow is blanketed everywhere there should be sand, and Clark can just make out a snow blower on the other end of the patio deck. The patio itself is decorated in bright red and green lights, and Clark blinks at the soft orchestra Christmas music being piped in from somewhere.

 

“How did you do all this?” He can be forgiven for the high-pitched tone of his voice because—this is all really incredible.

 

“Essentially, the water is broken into smaller particles and the water is cooled because it is allowed to move through colder air. The water particles are nucleated and—“

 

Clark places his hand over Lex’s quick speech, silencing him. “You know what I meant.”

 

“You—you don’t get it, do you?”

 

“Get what?” Clark asks, and he genuinely doesn’t think he does.

 

“How—God. You might be able to pack up and leave any time, but there’s never going to be a moment when I can do that.” Clark thinks he’s talking about going home still, and Lex sees this, blue eyes widening at the miscommunication. “I’d never be able to leave you Clark.” Lex says finally, hoping this permeates.

 

“It’s so hard, sometimes, Lex.” He whispers.

 

“Too—too hard?”

Clark looks up at the barely audible words and finds himself shaking his head wordlessly.

 

“It’s just—it’s a lot.” These words aren’t enough, and Clark needs to explain better than this, but Lex is pulling on him, his hands curling in Clark’s hair and Clark can’t think beyond how right Lex’s body always feels against his, twisting, pulling, giving, taking. They’re backing into the doorway again, Clark pulling on Lex’s shirt, buttons plopping into places never to be seen again, and Lex can’t seem to let go of Clark’s hair. The snow’s being dragged in along with them, but Clark hardly cares.

 

Layers of clothes are being ripped off, all by Clark, and he can’t stop laughing. Lex laughs into his mouth for a moment and is soon pressed up against the wall, Clark’s body acting as a vise.

 

He knows what his answer is, finally. “You’re always going to be worth it, Lex.”