SV Fic: Colours
Feb. 26th, 2003 01:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
out_thereTitle: Colours
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Summary: Lex had always associated places with colours.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The boys' aren't mine.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Anne for beta reading again, and again, and again. I needed it. This was written for Slodwick's 'A picture's worth 1000 words' challenge. This is the picture I received.
Colours
Lex had always associated places with colours.
England would forever be blue in his mind. It was the blue of the sky that occasionally peaked through the clouds, and the stormy blue grey of the sea that could be seen from the Headmaster's window. It was the blue tinge of fingertips during the last month before winter, when the heating system wouldn't be turned on for weeks but the winter chill had already descended on the dorm rooms.
It was the melancholy blue of a child who still had a father but felt like an orphan.
***
When Clark first asked him what he missed most about Metropolis, he had to think about it. It was difficult to specify just one thing. Metropolis was home, it was his city, but here, he was as out of place as a Scottish castle in the middle of Kansas.
Eventually, he told Clark that he missed the size of Metropolis. He missed the anonymity that a large city could provide. In Smallville, he was too easily seen.
Clark had smiled wistfully and said that it would be nice not to have everybody watching you all the time, but he'd miss his mom and dad. Lex had replied that his father was the one thing that he didn't miss.
***
Metropolis was grey. It was the grey of concrete and chrome, of a hundred skyscrapers reflected in a million windows. It was the dull grey of rain clouds that always threatened to pour, but rarely did. It was the colourless grey of office workers rushing through the city, almost identical in pale shirts and dark suits.
It was monochrome and monotonous, occasionally brightened by good sex, better alcohol and great drugs. But even those colourful times were reduced to shades of grey, reproduced for the masses in newspaper photographs.
***
When Clark asked him for help with his schoolwork, he was happy to oblige. It was only after he had driven Clark to the woods, that he discovered that his role was only to play chauffer and keep Clark company. He watched as Clark took pictures for his media assignment and asked about the sudden fondness for trees.
Clark told him that the assignment was to produce a picture of Smallville, and almost everyone had chosen the plant, the town centre or their homes. Clark had wanted something that represented what Smallville meant to him. Clark had grown up playing in these woods with Greg and Pete, and camping here with his dad.
Lex pointed out that it was barely a fifteen minute drive from the Kent farm. Clark laughed and said that to a six year old, fifteen minutes is a very long time. Camping was sleeping in a tent, on land that wasn't part of the farm. Besides, that way Clark's mom could bring them fresh brownies and hot chocolate before they went to sleep.
Clark said that maybe Lex should try it sometime. Lex looked up and saw Clark watching him, those red lips parted in an amused smile.
***
Smallville was the green of nature, of woods and crop fields. It was the overwhelming green that stared at him from the Luthor Manor gardens, each leaf and blade of grass a slightly different shade. It was the murky green of the lake and the hazel green of Clark's eyes. It was the bright shining green of the meteorites, filled with secrets and danger. It was also the green of envy; envy of Clark's parents, envy for Clark's seemingly easy life and even the occasional petty burst of envy for Lana Lang, when he had still thought that she was everything that Clark wanted.
Watching Clark bite into the light green apple, he realised that this was another shade of green he would associate with Smallville.
***
When Clark asked him what he was thinking about, he lied. He didn't tell Clark that he was wondering how that golden skin would taste. Instead, he talked about the power of symbolism and the most basic symbol of all, colour.
He told Clark how Caesar had used it to his advantage in battle. How Caesar's red cloak was a sign that had driven his soldiers to victory over the Gauls. Caesar still used the symbolism of colours when he secured power, dressing extravagantly in gold and purple. Gold had always symbolized wealth, while purple was associated with royalty, wisdom and the ability to rule. Then they talked about how a symbol could be more powerful than the thing itself.
As he drove Clark home, Clark was proud to tell him that he'd done well on his media assignment. Clark grinned when he said that it was only a few marks lower than Chloe. Clark told Lex that she'd said that Clark had just got lucky in the woods. The slight blush that accompanied that phrase revealed more than Clark's words.
***
Clark himself would always be red. The ever-present red of flannel shirts, the warm red of lips that begged to be kissed and the inviting red of a shy blush. Clark was both the red of desire and craving, and the scarlet danger of losing his heart, or losing his head.
Clark was the red of the blood that ran through Lex's veins. And there were times when Clark felt just as vital, just as necessary, to Lex. As if without Clark, his heart would simply stop.
***
Later, when he asked what colour Clark would associate with him, Clark quickly replied purple. He asked why and expected an answer that involved LuthorCorp, the corporate colours and wearing the family livery. People always judged by association.
Clark trailed warm hands across Lex's chest, toying with the violet cotton of the shirt, and said that it was just the obvious reason. Then there were lips against his neck but he couldn't resist asking again, pushing for a definite answer. Clark's tongue traced over an old love bite and Clark mumbled into his skin that the colour looked good on him.
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Summary: Lex had always associated places with colours.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The boys' aren't mine.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Anne for beta reading again, and again, and again. I needed it. This was written for Slodwick's 'A picture's worth 1000 words' challenge. This is the picture I received.
Colours
Lex had always associated places with colours.
England would forever be blue in his mind. It was the blue of the sky that occasionally peaked through the clouds, and the stormy blue grey of the sea that could be seen from the Headmaster's window. It was the blue tinge of fingertips during the last month before winter, when the heating system wouldn't be turned on for weeks but the winter chill had already descended on the dorm rooms.
It was the melancholy blue of a child who still had a father but felt like an orphan.
***
When Clark first asked him what he missed most about Metropolis, he had to think about it. It was difficult to specify just one thing. Metropolis was home, it was his city, but here, he was as out of place as a Scottish castle in the middle of Kansas.
Eventually, he told Clark that he missed the size of Metropolis. He missed the anonymity that a large city could provide. In Smallville, he was too easily seen.
Clark had smiled wistfully and said that it would be nice not to have everybody watching you all the time, but he'd miss his mom and dad. Lex had replied that his father was the one thing that he didn't miss.
***
Metropolis was grey. It was the grey of concrete and chrome, of a hundred skyscrapers reflected in a million windows. It was the dull grey of rain clouds that always threatened to pour, but rarely did. It was the colourless grey of office workers rushing through the city, almost identical in pale shirts and dark suits.
It was monochrome and monotonous, occasionally brightened by good sex, better alcohol and great drugs. But even those colourful times were reduced to shades of grey, reproduced for the masses in newspaper photographs.
***
When Clark asked him for help with his schoolwork, he was happy to oblige. It was only after he had driven Clark to the woods, that he discovered that his role was only to play chauffer and keep Clark company. He watched as Clark took pictures for his media assignment and asked about the sudden fondness for trees.
Clark told him that the assignment was to produce a picture of Smallville, and almost everyone had chosen the plant, the town centre or their homes. Clark had wanted something that represented what Smallville meant to him. Clark had grown up playing in these woods with Greg and Pete, and camping here with his dad.
Lex pointed out that it was barely a fifteen minute drive from the Kent farm. Clark laughed and said that to a six year old, fifteen minutes is a very long time. Camping was sleeping in a tent, on land that wasn't part of the farm. Besides, that way Clark's mom could bring them fresh brownies and hot chocolate before they went to sleep.
Clark said that maybe Lex should try it sometime. Lex looked up and saw Clark watching him, those red lips parted in an amused smile.
***
Smallville was the green of nature, of woods and crop fields. It was the overwhelming green that stared at him from the Luthor Manor gardens, each leaf and blade of grass a slightly different shade. It was the murky green of the lake and the hazel green of Clark's eyes. It was the bright shining green of the meteorites, filled with secrets and danger. It was also the green of envy; envy of Clark's parents, envy for Clark's seemingly easy life and even the occasional petty burst of envy for Lana Lang, when he had still thought that she was everything that Clark wanted.
Watching Clark bite into the light green apple, he realised that this was another shade of green he would associate with Smallville.
***
When Clark asked him what he was thinking about, he lied. He didn't tell Clark that he was wondering how that golden skin would taste. Instead, he talked about the power of symbolism and the most basic symbol of all, colour.
He told Clark how Caesar had used it to his advantage in battle. How Caesar's red cloak was a sign that had driven his soldiers to victory over the Gauls. Caesar still used the symbolism of colours when he secured power, dressing extravagantly in gold and purple. Gold had always symbolized wealth, while purple was associated with royalty, wisdom and the ability to rule. Then they talked about how a symbol could be more powerful than the thing itself.
As he drove Clark home, Clark was proud to tell him that he'd done well on his media assignment. Clark grinned when he said that it was only a few marks lower than Chloe. Clark told Lex that she'd said that Clark had just got lucky in the woods. The slight blush that accompanied that phrase revealed more than Clark's words.
***
Clark himself would always be red. The ever-present red of flannel shirts, the warm red of lips that begged to be kissed and the inviting red of a shy blush. Clark was both the red of desire and craving, and the scarlet danger of losing his heart, or losing his head.
Clark was the red of the blood that ran through Lex's veins. And there were times when Clark felt just as vital, just as necessary, to Lex. As if without Clark, his heart would simply stop.
***
Later, when he asked what colour Clark would associate with him, Clark quickly replied purple. He asked why and expected an answer that involved LuthorCorp, the corporate colours and wearing the family livery. People always judged by association.
Clark trailed warm hands across Lex's chest, toying with the violet cotton of the shirt, and said that it was just the obvious reason. Then there were lips against his neck but he couldn't resist asking again, pushing for a definite answer. Clark's tongue traced over an old love bite and Clark mumbled into his skin that the colour looked good on him.
no subject
Date: 2003-02-25 06:19 pm (UTC)*applauds*
no subject
Date: 2003-02-25 06:45 pm (UTC)*bows* Thank you, thank you. *g*
The picture got added into the story last (or almost last...) and the credit for the beautiful story needs to go in part to Anne (DarkEmerald) who really helped remind me that there is an art, and a certain amount of effort, that goes into making writing worth reading. Without her, it really wouldn't have worked.
Thank heavens for betas.