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JM: Young tilted head closeup

cyndrarae

Rebelling against Reality since 2003

v14.0


JM: Young tilted head closeup
cyndrarae

Smallville: Penance (6/?) (Clark/Whitney)



<< Previous Chapter

Chapter 6


Saturday 2155 hrs

Clark had come home yawning after a long long day. Martha saw him drive up and couldn’t help but smile.

//My sweet boy.//
She couldn’t even begin to think how she’d live once her only son moved out of Smallville as he planned to, very soon. Martha and Jonathan felt blessed to have been chosen by this angel from the sky as his foster parents. She remembered the awkward gangly teenager she had sent out into the world after years of seclusion and then saw the confident young man walking into her kitchen with the most precious smile in the world on his face. He was taller and broader and stronger and more aware of himself. But most of all, he was a *little* more comfortable with himself than he was two years ago.

My son. Martha felt proud.

“Hey mom”
Clark had kissed her and asked what was for dinner. No matter how much Clark ate outside, he was always hungry for his mom’s cooking. Jonathan had walked in right that moment grumbling about another of Lionel Luthor’s illegal conquests he’d learnt about. They had had dinner together during which Clark filled his father in about everything he and Chloe had found out about the Luthor situation. And they had joked and laughed and had a jolly good time. But just this once, Clark twitched. The way he does when he hears something distinct coming from afar. He had recently come into this new ability to hear sounds coming from.. like.. miles away and wasn’t very good at controlling it. Martha and Jonathan quietened down and later asked him what it was. Clark looked confused and shrugged. Then smiled.

“Probably nothing. Just my imagination working overtime”

They had continued with the dinner.

Saturday 2320 hrs

Clark lay in his bed in the loft and stared at the ceiling. Course it wasn’t the ceiling he was looking at. He could see the stars and the clouds in the sky quite nicely thank you. Plus he couldn’t sleep.

You’d think you’d be tired after having super-sonic speeding all over the place digging stuff up for the Torch, saving an old couple from being run over by a speeding truck, and listening to Chloe reading out her sensational column for the seventy third time and watching Pete getting tackled and smothered all over the football ground.

Nope. Not sleepy at all.

Clark kept thinking back to the dinner at the Zinc. About how beautiful Chloe looked and how funny her lemonade joke was and... and how different Whitney looked. Not just physically, we’ve covered that, just the way he walked and talked and.. looked at him. As if he was trying to say something but couldn’t really remember what. As if he was seeing Clark’s face for the first time and yet was trying to remember where he’d seen him before. As if…

//oh enough with the metaphors. Chloe is better at them anyway. //

But fact was, and Clark never was one to run from any of those, he couldn't stop thinking about Whitney. He wondered if Whit was thinking about him too. Whit? Where did that come from? It was always Whitney or Fordman between the two of them. He thought back to the time when they were together at school and all the fights they used to have over Lana. Well, not exactly fights. More like the star quarterback and his rat pack kicking the local farm boy’s behind. But he hadn’t minded. Nah… super strong renegade alien and all. Instead he went around saving the quarterback’s royal behind behind his.. pardon me.. behind. Is that a simile? Or an irony?

//Damn it, whatever//

So fact is, no matter what Whitney did, however nasty he was, Clark always watched over him. He did it because he knew Lana cared very deeply for him, and he cared even more deeply for Lana. But then, things started to change. Lana was obviously interested in him, he didn’t need to look out for Whitney any more. But still he did. And mind you, this is not the common saving-old-couple-from-being-run-over type of caring, this is something more. Way more.

“Now how the hell do you explain that?” Clark knew there was an explanation for this after all. But he decided not to dwell on it. Why? Because he wasn’t ready. Not yet.

“And besides isn’t my life complicated enough as is?” Clark tossed and turned.

“Jeez all this psycho-analysis stuff is driving me crazy. And am I actually talking to myself?”

Yes he was. After a really long time, he finally started to drift to sleep.

“Wonder what he’s doing right now?”

Vaguely aware that this was the kind of question he once used to ask himself about Lana, Clark dozed off. And he dreamt of the ocean and he dreamt of dolphins and he dreamt of Whitney. Pretty soon he was hovering lightly over his bed. There were very few things in his life now that could make him loose control like that.

Jonathan may just have to get another bed tomorrow.

Next Chapter >>

JM: Young tilted head closeup
cyndrarae

Smallville: Penance (7/?) (Clark/Whitney)



<< Previous Chapter

Chapter 7

Saturday 0435 hrs

“WHITNEY!!!”

Clark jumped awake and came crashing down on his bed. But the bed was the least of his concerns right now. He strained to listen. He was dreaming, did he just imagine …?

“WHITNEY!!!”
There it was again! Someone was calling for Whitney? Why was someone calling out for Whitney with that … anguished .. broken voice? Was he calling Whitney to help him? Was… Whitney hurting him?

Clark got up from the ruins of his bed and went in the direction the scream was coming from. He threw open the window to the dark moonless night. Everything was so quiet. The population was really scarce in this area, in fact he wasn’t sure if anyone lived for miles and …

“WHITNEY SIR ITS WHITNEY!!”

“Goddamn fucking sonofa….”
Clark threw on his clothes, red tee and blue jeans and a warm jacket as fast as he could and rushed out into the night and towards the screams. Clark was angry. He now knew where the screams were coming from. Reiley field. Clark had done everything possible to make sure the scarecrow incident was never repeated and.. One Day! Whitney was back One Fucking day and already he was up to his old antics. That asshole! Going by the terrible screams he was hearing, he feared maybe the guys had gone too far with the new victim.

He would not forgive Whitney this time.

Saturday 0440 hrs

Whitney was still screaming. He was all out of tears and couldn’t stop crying. His lungs were burning up like they’d burst any moment and couldn’t stop screaming. He was bleeding to death and couldn’t stop bleeding.

Nigel was having the time of his life. It wasn’t about revenge. It probably never was. Rather it was his sickness, his perversion that he was living and enjoying and couldn’t get enough of. But then he got worried someone might hear Whitney’s screams and come for him.

“Alright that’s enough” He said, fully expecting to be obeyed. What an asshole.

Whitney was lost in his own mind warp. The pain, the cold, the humiliation, the guilt, the pain.. it was all taking its toll on him. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“I said stop it!”

Whitney stopped screaming. Looked at Nigel’s face and a slight smile played across his lips. Then he started laughing. If you could call it laughing. He was making these noises, taking in air in noisy gasps each accompanied by a bitter sob. He did that for awhile and just when Nigel thought it was over and placed his hand back on Whitney’s ass again, Whitney screamed.

“SIR! SIR! ITS WHITNEY SIR!!”

Nigel drive his elbow into the screaming face so hard Whitney almost passed out. He felt his short hair grabbed from behind and his face pulled upwards. And then a mouth covered his, with teeth biting his lips harshly. He couldn’t scream.

Nigel drew back. “You like it bitch huh?”
and moved in to kiss him again. Whitney jerked his face around to escape the assault but in vain. Nigel was earnestly kissing him now, sucking at his tongue vigorously. And then God alone knows where he drew his strength from, Whitney managed to get his teeth on Nigel’s tongue. Really Hard.

This time the scream was Nigel’s.

“You bastard! You whore! You’ll pay for this” This from a very very bloody mouth.

And then he drew out the knife again and raised it to kill. This should be it, Whitney thought. God please let it be it. The knife came down towards his throat.

But never landed. Someone grabbed it in midair just before it could pierce him. That someone yanked the knife away from the assailant’s hand and threw it away. Then he turned full force towards Nigel and pushed him away from the scarecrow with such superhuman strength Nigel landed twenty feet away. And he couldn’t believe it.

Clark turned towards the tied figure and asked “You ok?” But even before the words were out of his mouth, he could see that he wasn’t. In fact he was such a terrible mess he couldn’t even make out who it…. Oh God. Oh my God.

“Whitney?”

No answer.

“God no, Whitney!”
Clark was shaking the listless body quite hard only to realize he should not be using his superhuman strength and immediately let go. He turned around to face who only seconds ago he had assumed was Whitney. Was surprised when he arrived at the scene and saw that it was someone else but even with his colossal thinking speeds hadn’t yet had the time to reconcile this new information with the screams he had heard. And now, it still didn’t make sense. But he’ll deal with it later.

Right now…

Nigel was drawing out a gun from his jacket and had it aimed directly at Clark, who in turned made sure to stand right in front of Whitney covering him. Bullets rained but didn’t get through. They couldn’t because Clark wouldn’t let them. Nigel was shell-shocked at what he saw. But stupid and crazed that he was, he ditched the revolver and with another knife he took out from his shoe, charged at Clark.

That was it. Clark charged in turn, grabbed hold of Nigel’s knife wielding arm and yanked it out right of his body.

Another set of screams rang out into the night.

Clark had not meant to use so much force but he had been so angry he couldn’t control it. He was as horrified as Nigel was. But he wasn’t sorry.

Nigel fell to his knees staring at his empty shoulder socket and the dismembered arm in Clark’s hand.

“Why did you do this?” Clark was extremely angry right now and yet he wanted to know what was going on.

But Nigel wasn’t listening. He picked up the revolver with his remaining arm where he’d dropped it and aimed it at Clark again. They both stared off at each other for like a minute. The horizon started to lighten up. The sun was rising.

Nigel suddenly jerked to aim the gun at Whitney who was conscious now and saw everything happening. Clark super-sped to stand between him and Nigel’s gun again.

Nigel was seeing things.

“Leave. Now.” He yelled, and added deeply, “before I kill you.”

He threw the bloody arm at Nigel.

Nigel knew he had lost. He stared at his severed arm with the tattoo on it. The crazed look hadn’t left his eyes once. And then just like that, he turned the gun to himself and blew his brains out.

The Mahaneys were all gone.

Whitney stared at the mangled remains of Nigel Mahaney. Clark turned to him. “Whitney… Whitney you ok?” He untied him gently but really fast. He scanned the damaged body and almost cried at what he saw. Whitney kept staring at Nigel..

“Whitney no, look at me, look at me please.” Clark gently held his face and tilted upwards to make him look away from Nigel and towards Clark. His entire frame sagged against the stronger boy just as he felt warm arms encircle him protectively.

“Its ok, you’re safe now.” Whitney looked at Clark and heard what he said. But none of it registered. He just went back to staring at Nigel.

Clark gently picked him up like a ragged little doll in his arms and carried him towards his truck. He pressed his face very lightly against his and murmured “I’m sorry Whit, I’m so sorry”.

“What for? I deserved it”

Clark stopped in his tracks. “Whit that’s not true.”

But his Whit had phased out again. Clark gently tugged. “Whit.. Whit?”

No response. Clark could have cried. He continued toward the truck. Found an old blanket in the back and wrapped him in it. He took out his own jacket and put it on him too. Whitney let him, vaguely aware of what was happening but mostly not caring. Clark placed him in the truck, got in himself and silently drove as fast as he could towards the hospital.

Next Chapter >>

JM: Young tilted head closeup
cyndrarae

Smallville: Penance (8/?) (Clark/Whitney)



<< Previous Chapter

Chapter 8

Saturday 0455 hrs

“No hospital”

Clark looked towards Whitney half sitting, half lying next to him in the truck. Sometime during the journey, Whitney had returned to sanity and realized who it was that had rescued him. Again. He smiled sadly. Then he noticed the road they were on was going straight to the Smallville hospital and started. He didn’t wanna go to the hospital and let it be known to his mother what happened. He didn’t want anybody to know what happened period. Its bad enough that... that Clark knows.

“No hospital.”

“Whit you’re badly hurt. We need a doctor to..”

“No hospital. Please.” Whitney was visibly panicking now. His face had contorted with a fear Clark had never before seen on his handsome face. He tried once more.

“But Whit…”

“NO!”

“Okay okay. No hospital.” Clark wasn’t happy but he turned around just as well. He’d take care of Whitney himself and carry him kicking and screaming to the hospital if need be. But right now he saw that forcing him would only be making things worse. He headed for his loft hoping mom and dad wont be up yet. If he was reading Whitney right, he didn’t want anyone and least of all his mother to know what happened to him this night. Hell, Clark himself wasn’t too sure what had happened. He’d been severely tortured he could see that. He’d seen the knife cuts and cigarette burns. Had he been raped?

//Oh Whit… I’m so sorry… God I’m so sorry. I should have warned you at the diner. I knew that group was trouble and I didn’t tell you. I should have been there for you. I should have heard you sooner. I should have….. oh Whit….//

Damnit, he could run faster with Whitney in his arms than this stupid truck.

The sky was red by the time Clark reached his place with Whitney. He stopped the engine before entering the farm and rolled in quietly the rest of the way. Near the loft he got out swiftly and came over to the passenger side. Whitney had passed out a few minutes ago giving Clark the scare of his life and now he was wondering if he should head for the hospital since Whitney wouldn’t get to know.. he decided he didn’t wanna betray his friend’s trust like that. At least not for now.

He gently tugged the unconscious form with blanket and everything into his arms and pulled him closer to his broad chest. He placed his lips lightly on Whitney’s hair and walked up to his loft. He was hoping he had not woken up his parents. Too late.

Martha was a light sleeper. She heard the truck despite Clark's efforts and got up to see who it could be at….damn its five already. She went to the window and that’s when she saw her son getting out of the Fordman truck. //Clark? Where is he coming from at this hour?//

And then she saw him go over to and pull out a body wrapped in a blanket from the passenger seat, grabbed her robe and rushed out towards the loft.

By the time she reached the top of the stairs, Clark had put Whitney in his bed and got out the telephone diary and was hunting for the family physician number in it, whom he could remember only as Uncle Thomas. Clark had not needed a doctor for more than once in his entire life. He was lost and feeling very very useless to Whitney just when Martha walked in.

She took one look at the figure on the bed and without giving away a single emotion, said “Dr Moore is out of town for the weekend. And if you’re not taking him to the hospital, you might wanna start with stopping the bleeding fast as possible.”

Clark had been staring at her anticipating an outburst. Now he rushed and within a nanosecond there was ice and water and cotton and bandages and iodine and an assortment of medication on the table beside the bed. Martha sat on the bed by Whitney’s side and took her first good look at the boy. Her eyes rimmed with tears as she remembered the beautiful little boy who would always greet her brightly every time she went to Fordman’s. He had never once *not* greeted her since he learnt to speak. She put her hand on his forehead and whispered softly,

“Its alright Whitney. You’re safe now.”

She had pulled the blanket half away when Clark said “Mom..”

Martha looked up. “Before you do that…” he began.

“Its okay. He needs help right away.” He nodded and looked down. Ashamed?

She removed the blanket and looked at Whitney with such sad eyes , absolutely relieved to think his own mother was not seeing this. She checked him if he was bleeding. Amazingly, it was nothing serious, no major blood vessel was nipped. She put ice in the bowl of water Clark had got her and wet a wad of cotton with it. This she then used to clean the knife wounds one by one. Had Whitney been conscious, it would have hurt indeed.

“He might still need stitches.”

“Uhh so what do we do?”

“He doesn’t wanna go to the hospital?”

Clark shook his head.

“Use your vision Clark, see if there are internal injuries, broken bones.”

“I already did in the truck. He seems ok on the inside..” But Clark looked once again just to be sure.

“Okay then let me give it a try. I was a Red Cross volunteer remember?” She smiled reassuringly. Martha had never seen her son so distraught. Clark nodded.

Martha went in the main house to sterilize needles and thread to sew up Whitney’s wounds and told Clark to clean the rest of him. She didn’t find any anesthetic and prayed and prayed the boy wont wake up before she was done.

Clark gently sponged the wounded body from head to toe all the while speaking to Whitney just like he’d heard his mother doing, as if Whitney could hear him.

“Whit don’t be afraid. Its okay. I’m sorry if I am hurting you. I’ll make the pain go away. I’m gonna make it all go away I promise you. Just don’t die on me okay?”

He washed away the red “S” from his chest now mingled with the red of Whitney’s blood. He stroked his short hair with one hand and tried hard not to let the tears fall. He was confused at the gamut of feelings running through his mind but mostly he shuddered to think what would have happened had he not gotten there on time.

//Not soon enough. Fuck you Kent. Not soon enough//

He turned to the burn on the right shoulder and cleaned that too. Then he covered it with the burn medication he found realizing what it meant.

//That guy also had a similar tattoo on his arm. So he was one of Wade Mahaney’s men come to avenge his partners and blaming Whitney for everything that happened?//

//Fuck. But then what about that group at the Zinc? If they had anything to do with this.. they’re gonna pay.//

Clark remembered the moment when he had first realized it was Whitney tied naked to the scarecrow post and shivers ran down his unbreakable spine. He covered the wounds that did not seem too deep with antiseptic and bandages, all the while speaking gently to Whitney. Was hard to tell who he was assuring, Whitney or himself.

“You’re fine kid. You’re gonna be just fine.”

The swollen eyes, the cut lips, the bleeding ear.. Clark saw it all and tended to all. He lightly touched the bruised lips and once again anger rose up in him when he remembered what he had seen as he was approaching the scarecrow. The bastard was pushing his dirty tongue into Whit’s mouth. His Whit’s mouth. The sudden surge of protectiveness (or was it possessiveness?) surprised Clark himself.

And then he remembered the scream that had followed and the assailant’s bloody mouth. Couldn’t help but chuckle to think what Whit must have done.

//That’s my boy// He laughed a little sadly.

And then he remembered how he had actually assumed it was Whitney who was…. shit.
//Clark you are one huge asshole. Shit. Shit. You bastard. You complete asshole! //

Clark cursed more and got up and began pacing. Realised he was accomplishing nothing, sat back and resumed the gentle sponging.

Then it occurred to him. “How come I heard you Whit?”

Clark had not learnt to control his hearing prowess yet. He could strain and hear stuff from miles away if he wanted to but most of the times he tried, he’d just get a lot of collective noise. And it kind-of came and went by itself.

“So how come I heard you? You weren’t even calling to me. You were…” .. calling to yourself? That still didn’t make sense. Maybe that psycho was making him do it. He would just have to ask Whit when he got up.. and felt like talking about it.

Clark took Whitney’s hand in both his and brought it to his lips. He kept his lips pressed there and his eyes closed and his head lowered as if in prayer, asking for forgiveness from his God. Enough was enough. He was done hurting him. He was done letting others hurt him. From now on, he was gonna take care of Whitney no matter what. He would keep him safe from anyone who meant to harm him or take him away from him.

He would protect what was his.

Having made this silent resolution, he suddenly felt free. Free from the constant denial and the hiding. You can hide from the world, but how do you hide from yourself? How do you live like that? Clark Kent was not gonna run from Clark Kent anymore. And Clark Kent was never, never ever letting go of the love of his life. Whitney Fordman. Whether he likes it or not.

So what if Whitney isn’t gay. So what if Clark didn't think he himself was gay until yesterday damnit! So what if Whitney may never reciprocate his feelings. Especially after this incident, no way. But see none of that mattered anymore. Gay, straight, too fast, too slow... requited or otherwise... see all that was beside the point.

//And the point is… I love him. And I wont ever stop.//

Next Chapter >>

JM: Young tilted head closeup
cyndrarae

Smallville: Penance (9/?) (Clark/Whitney)



<< Previous Chapter

Chapter 9


Martha came back with needles and thread, not the surgical one since she didn’t have any, but the kind that would do for now. By the time she came, Clark had had Whitney turned on his stomach and had cleaned up the wounds and sores there as well. He was applying a light bandage to the place where Nigel had slashed his knife, just at the lower curve of Whitney’s left ass cheek.

Lets face it, there was no way Clark could not notice Whitney’s nakedness. Had the sight not been so gory Clark would have been jerking with multiple non-stop orgasms by now. But still, when Clark touched Whitney, it wasn’t just with pure, fathomless love for Whitney, but also with a relentless urge to touch and feel and comfort his Whitney.

Clark stroked the back of Whitney’s neck slightly knowing how much he used to do it himself. He was very very careful while wrapping the wounds, knowing fully well how much damage his excessive strength could do. Whitney isn’t a fragile kid. No sir.

Even now he held within himself strength that’s exceptional for any human being. But to Clark right now, he was like this absolutely priceless only-one-of-its-kind, handle-with-extreme-care ming vase that held within itself the key to Clark’s very own life. You know like in the Arabian nights tale? Where the life of a giant monster lies in a parrot? Kill the parrot and the monster dies?

//And what the hell ?//

Clark couldn’t help but smile. It seemed Whitney was not gonna die on him after all, although the fact that he wasn’t conscious yet made him fret. But mostly he was just so glad to still have him. To finally admit to himself that he loved this man and felt no qualms in saying so aloud too.

“I love you”. Ok that was inaudible.

“I love you”. Slightly better.

“I LOVE YOU Whitney Fordman. I love you”

Martha had walked in just then. She stopped in her tracks at the sudden revelation, and looked at her son. The son who had just made a declaration of his love to an unconscious boy and was now grinning like a Cheshire cat absolutely pleased with himself.

How does a mother object to that kind of happiness?

Quickly pushing the doubts, that could wait for now, to the back of her mind, Martha smiled at Clark and resumed walking towards the bed with a tray that held three needles in a bowl of hot water and a roll of thread.

“Mom!” Clark saw the needles and.. well obviously he was concerned. Needles and all.

“Relax and have a little faith in your mother Clark.” She placed the tray in Clark’s hands and signaled him to move. Clark got up from where he sat on the bed and came over to the chair he’d pulled up earlier.

Martha saw a pool of blood that had formed on the bed beneath Whitney’s pale frame, and let out a soft “God be merciful”.

“Mom?”

“yes sweetie”

“do you .. do you think he was….you know.. ?”

Martha looked up at Clark. The question was bound to remain incomplete. He didn’t look sure if he really did want to know but at the same was quite worried too. She studied him for awhile and decided she might as well check. Whitney may need to go to the hospital after all.

She sat down on the bed, hesitated, then touched Whitney’s back gently. She rubbed very small circles into the surface with one hand and used the other to very gently part his ass cheeks. She was using the rubbing to comfort a sleeping Whitney, to indicate to him that she meant no harm.

Clark at first closed his eyes like the teenager that he was, who isn’t used to or comfortable with the concept of rape. But then he opened them and looked over to what his mom was doing.

Martha was now using both hands to get a better look at Whitney’s rectum. It looked like there was some sort of physical assault like a foreign object was inserted but the abrasions were miniscule so no, he was not raped. That was all she needed to know.

“He’s okay”. Clark let out a sigh of relief.

She gently rolled Whitney onto his back and his head slightly lolled over to one side. Good, he was still out. Martha got to work.

Meanwhile, Clark pulled up the covers over Whitney’s lower body and sat holding Whitney’s hand in both of his, conscious not to squeeze too hard. He tried to see how his mother went to work on the love of his life but couldn’t keep it up too long. Super-strong renegade alien be damned. Right now, he was terror-stricken Whitney might wake up to this unbearable pain or worse, might be feeling it right now.

Martha sewed up the worryingly large wounds on Whitney’s thighs and stomach and some on his back expertly and wrapped them in clean bandages. Clark kept providing the background score with his hisses and ouches and Martha scolded him with her stoic stares. But she knew he was very worried and smiled to herself.

Her son was in love, perhaps for the first time. What bothered her was that “love” is a truly strong word and Clark had used it so easily… in fact its possible he might just have professed his love because of the state that he’s seeing Whitney in right now. Clark has always liked taking care of people and things. He’s happiest being in charge. But what happens when Whitney is stronger and does not need looking after? Oh God what happens when its time for Whitney to go back to the corp? She had not the heart to raise these questions at this time. But definitely, later, when Whitney got better. Hopefully it wont be too late.

Whitney stirred.

“Oh God. Oh God.”

“Clark relax!”
But Martha freaked too. She stopped jabbing the needle into Whitney and instead reached out with her outstretched hands to hold Whitney’s face.
“Shhh.. its okay sweetie, shhhh.”

Clark stood up and began to pace again not once looking away from Whitney’s face. Martha directed her shushing towards him with a mommish frown and he stopped. In a way it was a good sign that he was coming to. But the Kents were worried he might be in way too much pain if he woke up now.

Whitney seemed delirious, as if was about to regain consciousness. He threw his head from one side to another, moaning very very silently, his face contorted in agony only he knew. Martha wiped off the sweat on his forehead and continued to console him softly.

“you’re okay Whitney. Go back to sleep now. shh….”

Whitney settled. “He’s going back to sleep look”. Clark settled too.

“Oh Good. Oh Good.”

Martha completed the stitching and the two of them adjusted very many cushions around Whitney so he could be as comfortable as possible .She also got a sleep-inducing painkiller from the first aid kit and Clark picked Whitney slightly up and raised his head. She minced the pill into a powder and mixed it into a glass of water. Clark held Whitney's head up by placing an arm under his neck as Martha encouraged the delirious boy to drink up. Miraculously, they got him to swallow the medicine, then tucked him in.

Martha and Clark straightened up the room and then themselves, letting out a huge sigh together at the same time.

‘Thanks mom. I don’t know what I would have done..”

“Shh darling. Get some sleep. You might have lots to do when he wakes up. I get the feeling he wouldn’t wanna go home right away.”

“Yeah. Mom about what I was saying before you came in… I think ..I think I do love Whitney”

Martha said nothing.

“I’ve always felt something ever since I knew him but.. now I’m sure.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. I am.”

Martha smiled and hugged him. “I know you would do the right thing Clark. You always have.”

Clark smiled at the vote of confidence and then Martha tugged him towards the couch. She pretended to push him down knowing that wasn’t actually possible, and urged him to sleep. Clark kissed his mother and turned off the lamp. It was light outside already.

Martha moved to leave when Clark posed, “What will you tell dad?”

“You trust your mom. Trust your dad too baby. Sweet dreams. Both of you.”


Next Chapter >>

JM: Young tilted head closeup
cyndrarae

Smallville: Penance (10/?) (Clark/Whitney)



<< Previous Chapter

Chapter 10


Saturday 0820 hrs

Betty Fordman sat by the phone, in deep thought.
“Where could he be?” She looked at the phone. “Should I call up... Lana? Get a grip Betty, your son’s an adult now.. you cant just … can I? Oh shit.”
She got up, she paced. She worried. She didn’t know what to do, whether it was required of her anymore to do something or not. What if she were invading his privacy?
“Alright I’m gonna go open the store and if by then he isn’t here… I’m calling. Yes. Good.”

And Mrs. Fordman went about her usual day’s jobs. But not without an aching heart.

Saturday 0915 hrs

“Pete! Hey Pete! Where’s Clark?”
Chloe was so excited. She couldn’t keep herself contained a moment longer. She had to talk to Clark. Where the hell is he? He was supposed to meet her fifteen minutes ago.
“How do I know Chloe.. call him up. He may have finally wizened up to the concept of “weekends” and not gotten up at all!” Pete had been grumbling all morning for having to get up so early on a Saturday to work on a stupid story. He munched an apple and waited for his best friend to turn up. Suited him absolutely fine if he didn’t. Then he could say “hey.. you’re the one who didn’t show! So I went home..” Pete smirked at Chloe.

“Pete didn’t you watch the news on TV? There’s been a murder in Smallville! They found the mangled remains of a man in Reiley’s field!”
“Mangled remains huh?”
“Yes, his head was blown away beyond recognition and his right arm yanked right out of its socket in his shoulder! The murderer shot him point blank then placed the gun in his own hand it seems. No way can a person yank his own arm out like that and then shoot himself in the head!”
“Ouch!” Pete was paying attention now. “It sounds like another of those “wall of weird” cases. Do they know who this guy is.. was?”
“Umm not yet I think. The channel didn’t say so.”
“Wait isn’t this Reiley field the place of the scarecrow?”
“Yep and the body was found quite near to the crucifix. They don’t know what happened there yet. But looks like there had been a guy tied to the post. There’s blood all over the place. Poor guy must have been tortured or something there. Can you imagine that?”
“Scarecrow? Didn’t they stop the damn tradition? And there wasn’t even a game last night”
“This isn’t about the tradition or the game silly. It was the work of some sicko-psycho who took a man or a woman to that field to torture him or her. Or it could have been an act of revenge who knows? Point is: this was no high school joke man, the sight’s bloody gory.”
“Yikes”
“Yeh. And I’m gonna go check it out. You game?”

Pete was very very game. “Of course we are going to check it out! But who do you think this guy was?”
Oh how Chloe loves an audience.

“According to the news item, the police think there may have been a bunch of people involved in the act and its possible that this guy they found dead was either one of them or a passer-by who came over to save the victim. Its more possible that he was one of the alleged assailants but its not clear how the assailant ended up dead while there are no whereabouts of the victim. They do have the blood from the scarecrow post. They’re gonna run some DNA tests and find out more.”

Chloe’s eyes were shining. “And we, my friend, are gonna get the true story for the Torch!”
“You bet!” That was Pete. “But first we gotta go get Clark up. That sleepyhead must still be in bed I’m sure..”

Sleepyhead was on the couch. While Whitney slept in his bed. Clark had not been able to sleep for so long and he’d just stared and stared and stared. He wanted so much to get in bed with him, to hold him and comfort him. To kiss him, and.. to make love to him. To…
// ..fuck him to the ground that’s what!//
He blushed at his own wicked thoughts and drifted off to sleep. Only to jump awake an hour later when he heard someone thrashing lightly. Whitney was trapped in a nightmare.
Clark got up and went to Whitney, not sure what to do. //Should I wake him up?// Then he remembered how Martha had gently shushed him to sleep and …ok Kent, time to show some real talent.. he sat down next to Whitney on the bed that was beginning to soak with his sweat and placed a palm flat on Whitney’s forehead. And pressed it there.
Uncertainly he began.. “hey.. hey Whit. Its okay.. you’re okay.. shhh.”
Whitney had been tossing his head from side to side but Clark’s hand now restrained that a bit. His mouth was slightly open as if he were saying something, and was bunching up the sheets in his fists tightly. Gradually, he came out of it and simmered down. Clark had started out feeling awkward but now he was focused on Whitney, almost willing the injured boy to relax with his determined eyes.

And Whitney opened his.

“Hi”, Clark smiled lightly. Suddenly realized his hand on Whitney’s forehead might look weird to the boy and removed it quickly.
Whitney squinted and stared at Clark trying to figure if he was really there.
There being where? And then it all came rushing back to him. He squeezed his eyes shut tight.
“Fuck.”
Clark swallowed. Whitney remembered the terrible ordeal of the night before and he remembered looking death in the eye, and then he remembered Clark appearing out of nowhere and…
“Thanks.”
“..again.”
Clark smiled and shrugged. “How’re you feeling?”
Whitney tried to get up and ended up back on his back, screaming in agony. Clark started towards him, wanting to hold him and soothe his pain away and..
“Relax jock, save your energy” He stuffed his hands into his faded jeans pockets and stood up.

Whitney let his head fall back on the pillow and let out a deep sigh. He stared at the ceiling for the longest time. His mind was a total mesh where he couldn’t hold on to any coherent thought for more than a second. The night before he hadn’t thought he’d live to see another day.
Or even worse… he would.

And here he was, in.. Clark’s loft? He’d never been here before. Very much alive. Wasn’t sure if he was too happy about it. The memories of the night before will be making his life a living death for quite some time now. And then there is the.. Clark situation.
Here he is. Again. Damn! Why did it have to be him? Why always him?
//oh Clark. You’re making this very very difficult for me. How do you expect me to forget you if you keep saving my life and indebting me like this?//

//Yeah Yeah. That’s right. The bastards were right. Clark Kent.. you are my undoing. You’ve ruined my life.//

Whitney closed his eyes, welcoming a headache and the jarringly colorful chaos behind his eyelids it accompanied.
His memories of the night before were disjointed. That’s because he had been phasing out and back during the latter half of it. He wasn’t sure of everything that happened, and yet staunchly, he kept probing. Perhaps it was his psyche’s way to cope.
//Selective denial? Hmm, I could live with that. I wish I could erase the whole night from my mind damnit.//

But what kept haunting him most… was the single memory of Clark hauling him up into his arms at the scarecrow post. He kept replaying that moment in his mind over and over.. the way the stronger boy had pressed his face to his, the way he held him so close to himself, the way he’d felt like he belonged there. With Clark. And nothing else mattered.
He didn’t think he wanted to erase that part.

But that wasn’t what he was getting from Clark now. He slightly opened his eyes again. All he saw was Clark standing over him, all stoic and acquaintance-like, waiting for him to say something.
//You dreamt it Whitney. Just the way you’ve been dreaming for the past one and a half year//

//Whitney Fordman, star quarterback for the Crows, the all-American school hero.. what would your friends say if they found out you were panting after an obscure clutz of a freshman with sexy green eyes and kissable red lips?//
//Ah you mean the friends who strung you up last night? //
Whitney jerked his head once as if to shirk off the cacophony in his mind.

Clark of course, had no idea that Whitney had realized his love for the other boy long before last night. Whitney just didn’t want to accept it because he thought it wasn’t possible. That he’d be rejected.

Clark was going through something similar. He accepted it, was even in love with the fact that he loved Whitney Fordman. But he didn’t think Whitney in his current condition would entertain any more advances, sexual or otherwise.
//And then again, he aint gay. //
But right now, he was more concerned about the other boy’s well being than his unrequited love for him.

//So, better be careful how you behave with him. //
He’d read somewhere about a rape crisis protocol that one should never approach an assaulted victim suddenly or forcefully else he/she might think that he/she was being attacked again.
//Easy Kent. You don’t want him bolting on you now do you? Maybe you’ll get to touch him later? Like… when he wants to take a... bath or something? //
//Lord forgive me!//

Whitney tried to get up again. This time biting his lips so no sound would escape without his permission. Didn’t help. Oh how traitorous voice boxes can be…
“What are you doing?” Clark firmly gripped his bare shoulders and pushed him back down onto the bed.
//To hell with protocol! To hell with what he thinks, I’m not letting him hurt himself//
And he sat back down on the bed too. This time, Clark held on, didn’t let go.

But Whitney wasn’t planning on going anywhere. For the longest time, Whitney and Clark just stared at each other , and no one moved. Whitney let Clark hold him down in the covers and Clark let Whitney grip his arms with his hands and dig his nails into his flesh. He didn’t know if he was trying to break free or hold on, but something in his eyes….. there we go again.. his eyes… no...
//I cant be reading him wrong can I? What if I am wrong?//

Whitney was lost in his own confusions. The human mind is one incompetent freak show, badly mixes up dreams with reality, illusions with memories, conscience with guilt and desire with abstinence. Friendship with .. love?
Was Clark being just a friend or..? Those hands on his shoulders felt familiar. Had he really just imagined those hands on his face… his body?.. his lips on the back of his hands..?

“Clark…”
“Whitney .. I want you to stay. D-Do you want.. to leave?”

Whitney didn’t say anything. He sank his head further into the bed but kept his eyes fixed at Clark’s. What he saw in those green depths… his heart suddenly felt lighter and there was this … this amazing rush… that seemed to clear the painful haze that had been shrouding his mind and.. Whitney couldn’t believe this was happening to him.

It’d been quite awhile now. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt … happy?

Suddenly exhausted to the core, he couldn’t keep his eyes open another moment. But there was one thing he had to do.. what was it? Oh yeh…
“Clark?”
“Yes Whit..”
“Don’t.. don’t let my mom know…” It drained Whitney of all his meager energy.
“oh-okay. okay.”

Soon he was asleep, still clinging with both hands to Clark. Clark smiled to see the boy relax and drift off. He hesitated, but he was sure now. Yes he was. Very gently he touched the sleeping boy’s lips with his own.
“Sleep tight Whit. I’ll be right here.”

Got up reluctantly and went looking for his toothbrush.


Next Chapter >>

JM: Young tilted head closeup
cyndrarae

Smallville: Penance (11/?) (Clark/Whitney)



<< Previous Chapter

Chapter 11


Saturday 0930 hrs

Martha climbed up to the loft with a breakfast tray in hand that was loaded with toast and eggs and muffins and all the goodies she could find in her kitchen. She wasn’t sure how much Whitney would be willing to eat, so she also brought up some chicken soup. And she brought with her solid intentions of finding out from Clark what really happened out there. She still didn’t know.

When she walked in, Clark was in the bathroom and Whitney was still asleep on his back with his head bent towards his left shoulder. He looked so peaceful. She set the tray down on the table as she went to sit beside Whitney on his right. She stroked his forehead with soft hands and adjusted the covers. She was about to get up when he shifted, turned towards Martha and promptly went to sleep on her hand.
But not without letting out a very quiet ..“Mom”

Martha couldn’t help but smile as she gently pulled out her hand from under him. She kissed him lightly on his cheek and straightened up with an expression on her face Clark wouldn't like.
“Oh Betty.”

Clark heard his mother in the shower and his hitherto closed eyes flew open.
“Oh shit.”

It took the superboy not more than three odd seconds to finish up in the shower, get dressed in faded jeans and a flannel, pull on shoes, grab a comb and then a toast. He kissed his mother, glanced at Whitney still sleeping peacefully, and then flew down the loft. He barely heard his mother calling,
“Clark what if..?”
He knew what she was about to say anyways.
//What if Mrs. Fordman had called the police? And there was the other issue Martha wasn’t aware of… Nigel’s body. Had he been discovered by now.. ?//
//Fuck this could be one big .. big mess. //
He had to do something before things got out of hand.

After the initial excitement of getting to drive his dad’s wagon wore off, it occurred to Clark Kent he could be much faster on foot. So that’s how he usually commuted unless he was taking Chloe out someplace. Today, he was super-speeding like he never had before. He was running to save whatever semblance of normalcy he could for the man who’d had suffered enough, the man he had come to love so much and wouldn’t let him get hurt again.

He reached the Fordman’s where Betty Fordman was just settling in for the day. She looked worried and not really concentrating on the tasks at hand. Clark walked up to her.
“Good morning Mrs. Fordman”
“Morning Clark!”
She never failed to smile at him. She did like him a lot.. that’s good.
//Hope she likes me as much after she learns I lied to her.//
“uhh is Whitney around?” As casual as he could be.
Mrs. Fordman positively withered. “No Clark, actually.. he didn’t come home last night. And he didn’t call either. I didn’t know what to do.. and he’s still…”
“Oh Mrs. Fordman you need not worry…”
He grinned widely. “Ummm he’ll be back.. shortly I’m sure..”
Goofy grin still in place along with some rigorous nodding. Really rigorous.
“You know where he is don’t you?”
“Well Mrs. Fordman.. I… really don’t know if..”
“Come on tell me Clark! I’m really worried sick here! Is he okay? He’s not in trouble is he?”
“No of course not Mrs. Fordman! He’s…well…”
//Lana will understand wont she?..//
“Yes?”
“Ma’m I think he and.. Lana…” leaving the sentence open-ended enough to make perfect sense.

Of course! Mrs. Fordman was visibly relieved, only to startle and realize what Clark meant.
“Oh.. okay. Uh.. he’ll be back in his own time then. Yes…”
Anne wanted to jump with relief and be angry all at once. She did neither. Of course she knew Whitney and Lana had been together for the longest time, and this couldn’t possibly be unexpected. But parent that she was, couldn’t help but worry about it.
How old was Lana again?

She lightly smiled at Clark and thanked him. He chatted a little longer about mundane stuff and moved on.
Strike one.

“Hello? Lana?”
“mmm.. Clark?”
“Yeah its me”
“What the…? Its 9.40 in the goddamn Saturday morning!?!”
Clark rolled his eyes.
“Sorry to bother you princess but there’s a huge favor I need to ask of you…”
“It’d better be good Kent” Lana yawned into the phone.
“Listen Lana, don’t be angry okay, please promise me you wont be angry”
“Ok I wont. What gives?”
“Wait I need another promise from you first.”
“Jeez boy you’re trying my patience! You spill it All out in the next second or I’m hangin' up!”
“Not before you promise you wont breathe a word about this to anyone. Its too important to me ok?”
“Uh..okay”
“Lana, Whitney.. he did not go home last night. I ran into his mom today and she was really worried about him and I mean Really worried sick so I… I told her he was with you last night….”

“Lana… Lana you there?”
Lana was now awake enough to hear the urgency, the deep concern in Clark’s voice.
“Why did you do that Clark? Where IS Whitney?”
“uhh I’ll explain everything later I promise. Just.. corroborate my story ok? Please? I know its lying and all and this might even affect your current relationship with Jason if it got out but… Lana…? Are you with me?”
“Yes… yes I am Clark. I wont worry about Jason, he’s history.”
No bitterness there. None of Lana’s relationships seemed to last ever since… well.

“Hey don’t worry. But Clark where is Whitney? Is he okay?”
“Y-yes he’s fine. Just..” Clark drew a deep deep breath. “You trust me Lana? Tell me you’re okay with this..”
“Yes I trust you Clark. And yes I’m okay.”
“Thanks Lana. Gotta go, I’ll explain everything later.” He hung up.
Strike two.

Clark Kent now sped to the scene of the crime.

Reiley’s field , Saturday 0955 hrs

The police were everywhere. Swarming around for clues and leads to the case at hand. So far, they had found tire tracks for 2 vehicles – one some kind of a mini-truck, while the other a sedan. Definitely a sedan.
And the most important breakthrough – using fingerprints and dental records, they had been able to ID the corpse.

The body was that of Nigel Mahaney, convicted felon, older brother to another suspected con artist Wade Mahaney who had died under equally weird circumstances.

Is it possible a hard core criminal like him would turn the gun onto himself ?

How did the arm separate from his body? From the physical condition of the severed limb, it looked like… it had… been… ripped out?

How the hell??

If the fingerprints and blood found on the cross was that of a booked person, they would be able to ID him/her in no time. If not, they would just have to wait for an injured person to turn up at nearby hospitals, or a body to turn up at the morgue. Perhaps then, they would be able to reach the killer. If not the killer, then at least the thing or person who.. did the ripping.

Again I say, what the hell??

“Jeez you hear that Pete?”
“Sure did.”
“Mahaney.. as in Wade Mahaney.. the guy who got Whitney mixed up in his con games..”
“Yes. And if I remember correct, this guy allegedly got crushed under a wreck. The same wreck he was allegedly holding Whitney under, allegedly intending to kill him!”
“Pete stop abusing legal jargon you’re giving me a headache.”
“Is this in the police files?”
“Yes it is. Remember Clark told us that Lex Luthor told the police that Clark and Whitney were playing schoolboy heroes trying to get the criminals captured. They even got reprimanded by the Sheriff for that remember? Whitney’s dad grounded him for being stupid and Mr. Kent… well.. he patted Clark on the back I think..”

……
“Where’s Clark? Call up Clark!”
“I’m here.”

Clark had been hearing the whole exchange through his enhanced hearing ability and saw everything keenly from a good distance. He found out about every case fact the police had cared to discuss, not aware of the eavesdropper eavesdropping from a mile away. They knew a lot, but probably not enough. The fingerprints could give them away if they were on record which Whitney and Clark weren't. And fortunately Smallville hadn't imported the fingerprinting at school program yet. How long before they figure out the Whitney-Mahaney connection? But then he heard his name being mentioned in sheer panic and super-sped to his friends.

Chloe and Pete swung around. “There you are!”
“Wait how did you know we were here? You never turned up at the Torch?”
“Ah.. I found out about this big story and when.. I didn’t see you guys there I …I just Knew you’d be here”
A goofy grin playing on his face. Clark Kent you are so cute, Chloe thought to herself. She couldn’t resist so she moved towards him and they kissed. Clark closed his eyes and lost himself in the lushness of her mouth. And then the colorful flashes behind his eyelids parted to reveal the face of his greatest temptation. His salvation.

Whitney.

Clark’s eyes flew open and he gently parted from Chloe’s hold over him. She was mildly surprised but he smiled reassuringly. No one could resist the Kent smile.
“So you were gonna call me why?”
That brought Chloe crashing back to solid ground.
“Oh yeah. Clark, you know what happened here? A guy’s body has been found with a bullet in his head and his arm was…”
“Yeah I know.. I heard the whole thing.”
“Clark do you know who this is?”
A shrug.
“Nigel Mahaney! Wade Mahaney’s older brother!”
Clark let out a low whistle.

“Does this mean nothing to you?” This was Pete.
“Do you know they found traces of blood and shreds of clothes all over the scarecrow? Someone was tied up there man. And most likely this Mahaney was who tied him or her up. Because he sure cant be a passer-by come over to rescue the victim.”
“And the whole thing, its so gory! Clark this was definitely a revenge gig.”
Chloe was sounding very bothered now.
“At first I thought maybe… maybe he was here to avenge his brother’s death you know. And since you and Whitney were involved in … you know.. oh God I was involved too…”

“Hey hey Chloey relax. I’m fine, you’re fine, ahem.. Whitney’s fine! It’s the Mahaney guy who’s dead!”
Gave her a condescending smile. //Its obviously nothing dear. Now let it go!//
“Yeah?” Chloe made a funny questioning expression as she thought about it.
“Well yeah..” Ok she kind-of agreed.
Clark knew he had to throw his friends as well as anyone else off this line of thinking.
//The police should not.. could not link this back to Whitney and me.//
…….

“We should check up on Whitney!” Damn there she goes again.
“He’s fine! He.. he was with.. Lana ..all night.”
//God I hope I’m not dragging Lana into any trouble. The things I do for you Whit…//
The jaws on Chloe and Pete fell to the ground.
“No way” Pete found his voice first.
“How do you know?” They were frowning furiously.
“Well..I saw them. Together.”
Clark was sure he was a horrible liar despite all the practice he got. Obviously his friends didn’t think so. Chloe looked at him very very suspiciously.
“I saw him with Mark Webber and his troublesome gang last night at the Zinc.. we both did remember?”
…….

“Y-Yeah but when I was driving back home, I saw him at Lana’s door and she.. she invited him in.”
//I’m gonna go to hell I’m gonna go to hell.//
“Clark! That doesn’t tell you he was there all night!”
“Wo.. well no it doesn’t. But this morning, I saw him coming out of her place too.”

//Lana Lang.. please do not sue me for slander. I swear whatever I did, I did it for love.//
//...of an unconscious boy stashed up at my loft. //

Chloe was incredulous.
“If that were true Lana would have told me right? But she..”
Clark rolled his eyes. Girls! Why the hell do they have to discuss every little thing with other girls?!?
“She obviously hasn't had time Chloe it was last night remember?”
Okay now she seemed convinced. “Hmm that's true.. so I guess then he must be okay”
She laughed a little. “God I am relieved, for a moment there I.. I thought it could have been Whitney here on .. on the cross last night! Whew!”
“Whew!” Pete had been thinking the same thing.
His friends sure caught on fast.
“Whew”
They looked at him. “I mean.. yeah.. I was worried too..”
He pursed his lips and looked away.

//Now for the detectives. But how? //

He had to know what they were thinking. So he strained to listen while his friends tried out other theories.
A Detective Connor was talking to Officer Haley. The officer had just come to him with news about a call they had just received at the station.
“Detective Connor, a couple called in at the station to report a truck they saw speeding at almost 120 towards Reiley field at around 11 last night.”
“Tell me more.”
“A Mr. and Mrs. Polovsky were returning late last night from a party in the next town when they say they were almost run over by this red truck. They couldn’t see the plates. They say there were 4 or 5 guys in the truck and the wife thinks she saw signs of struggle going on. But she didn’t get a very good look at the faces. And they say they were speeding towards Reiley field.”

Clark heard every word. //The truck! Damnit the truck!//
Good thing he had the sense to drive it away from the scene. It was parked in his farm. But they will surely be looking for one. Small town Smallville.. how many red damn trucks could you have?

“Where are we on the truck?”
“Sir there are only a handful of trucks of that make and color in Smallville. Officer Louis is working through them. We are also checking for any out-of-town vehicles.”
“What about the sedan?”
“Still working on that sir.”
“Ok. Let me know if you get anything.” The detective was moving on.

//Damn it! The truck could lead them right to Whitney! What do I do….take care of the truck? How? Cant dump it, that would seem even more suspicious that the Fordman’s truck suddenly went missing. Damn it is missing! It should be at the Fordman residence not the Kent residence! And it should be cleaned up.//

Clark knew what he had to do. He made a lame excuse to his friends and casually walked off the field. Once out of human sight, he sped like hell. Had to get back to the farm asap.
//Damn wish I could fly, not just hover over my bed in my fucking sleep. Up.. Up .. and Away…!! Someday Kent, someday… //


Next Chapter >>

JM: Young tilted head closeup
cyndrarae

Smallville: Penance (12/?) (Clark/Whitney)



<< Previous Chapter

Chapter 12


Saturday 0935 hrs

Martha watched over Whitney for awhile, after which she got up and went down to the main house to look in on Jonathan.
“Hey sweetie.”
“Good morning.. you’ve been doing the vanishing act all morning honey… what's going on up there?” Jonathan was looking at the papers but he was totally concentrating on Martha as she went about her usual tasks in the kitchen.
“Is Clark around?”
“No, he left early in the morning for some news story. And what vanishing act dear? I’ve been around all morning but it seems I’m losing my touch since obviously you don’t seem to notice as much anymore….”

Martha had on her best pout.
Who was Jonathan to resist. He laughed and pulled Martha over to his lap, throwing the newspaper aside. She laughed too, definitely taken by surprise.
They kissed.

Martha was facing towards the loft. She looked up, thinking about the sleeping boy. She’ll just have to tell her husband about him without Clark.
//maybe I should wait a little longer..//
They continued kissing, as she continued wishing and hoping Whitney was okay up there…

Whitney was back on the cross.

His arms and legs stretched taut over the wooden stake as the ropes mercilessly sucked at his wrists and ankles. Ankles twisted at painful angles. Wrists struggling in vain.
And Nigel is there. Black leather, gleaming knife. Hurting him, fondling him, cutting him, pushing his tongue into his mouth. Raping him.

And Whitney is screaming again.

“Clark! Clark! No NO NO! Clark please!!”
As the pain grows, and the cold bites, his screams get stronger.. and stronger..
“Clark! Clark!”

And then suddenly there is no Nigel, Nigel is gone. And Clark is standing in his place. Blue jeans, red sweatshirt. Hugging him, stroking his bare back.
“Whitney hey.. its okay.. its okay.. I’m here now. I’m here..”
And Clark is holding his face and kissing him and caressing him and..
“Clark thank God! Help me.. help me”

But Clark isn’t listening. And he isn’t undoing the ropes, he just lets him hang there still. And he is kissing him all over and under… his hands all over Whitney’s naked helpless body. Whitney is confused.
“Clark? Clark please…”

Clark isn’t listening. “Whitney oh God Whit you’re so.. you’re so.. hot.”
And he continues the sweet torture. He grabs the bound boy’s semi-erect cock and pumps it with one hand as he continues to invade the bruised mouth with his own. He grips the bare ass with his other hand and rubs small circles into it, teasing him, driving him wild with twisted desire. He rubs one nipple with his left hand, while he kisses and laves the other like someone possessed. Then just as suddenly stops and switches nipples.

Whitney’s moans get louder just as his confusion and his frustration grows and threatens to consume whatever sanity he’s left with. It was as if Clark was drunk.. on Whitney. He couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop.
“oh.. Clark” Whitney is lost between pain and pleasure.
“Clark please stop.. no.. no don’t stop.. God …”

“Clark… please… uh no no Clark… please…”
Suddenly the lips move away from his chest and he sobs at the loss of warmth. Someone is shaking his face, wanting him to open his eyes..

“Why didn’t you help me Whitney?”
“W-What?”
“Why didn’t you come back for me huh?”

Before Whitney can reply, Clark is attacking his mouth and kissing him brutally. He sucks at his tongue, at the bruised lips, the walls of his mouth. Whitney is gasping.
“Why didn’t you come Whitney? I waited and waited..”
“Why didn’t you help me? Why should I help you when you didn’t?”
And Whitney is crying and he’s laughing and he’s pleading.
“Don’t. Leave me. Kill me.”
……

“With Pleasure”

Suddenly the lips and the hands are gone and ice cold replaces the warmth from before on his body as he opens his eyes.
“Clark?”
Nigel’s evil laughter rings out again. Shredding the quiet of the night and Whitney is quivering with fear.
“You …are… fucking… NOTHING!!”
And the knives go slashing.

“You’ll pay for my brother’s life…. WITH YOURS!!” and the knife is coming down .. down… down at his throat.

Whitney frightened himself awake. And he caught himself gasping, sitting upright.
In Clark’s bed.

He raised an arm to wipe the sweat off his brow , looking at himself for the first time. Still shaken from the nightmare, he saw the various bandages and cuts on his body and shivered.
//This cant really be happening can it? Am I still in the nightmare?//
He sighed, painfully at that. Bruised ribs and such.
“Fuck. Shit. Damn.”

Whitney wasn’t sure what to do first. Mope about the fact that he almost got raped and killed. Or mope about the fact that his obsession with Clark was totally taking its toll on him. It had never been so bad, never. And now here he is, having dreams of.. no nightmares of.. oh okay Dreams, of Clark. He looked down at himself, poking out from under the sheets.

“Fuck”

He had to call upon his enormous hidden reservoirs of strength to get himself off the bed. His legs were weak and refused to support his weight, and soon he toppled over. Stubborn that he was, he picked himself off from the floor and continued to the bathroom he’d located while lying clumsily on the floor.

Clark’s bathroom.
He relieved himself and not thinking about Clark was simply out of the question.
//Thanks man. I owe you more than one life now.//
And he remembered the accusation that Clark of his dreams had made.
//Why didn’t you come for me? //

Whitney closed his eyes in utter shame. Obviously the night had done nothing to alleviate his guilt. He wanted to cry but it hurt too much to move a single muscle on his face right now.
//Forgive me Clark, forgive me.//

He looked longingly at the shower, it didn’t seem wise to get in there with all the bandages so he refrained. Gingerly, he walked up in front of the mirror and looked at his face. It was red and swollen over one eye with a thousand angry gashes and bruises everywhere else.
//Good war eh marine?//
“For the thousand and one-eth time... FFFUCK!!”

Whitney angrily splashed water over his face, hoping against hope when he opened his eyes again he’d look better. No wonder Clark left him sleeping, how can anyone possibly stand to look at someone this ugly? More splashing.
//I swear if I ever see Nigel again I would…. //
Nigel was dead. How did he die again?

He shot himself. He put the thirty eight to his temple and bang.

It was coming back in pieces. Nigel Mahaney was dead. Damn. Because this meant he wouldn’t get a chance in this life to rip him apart limb to…..
Limb.

How? What the…? How did..? Whitney’s head started to spin as flashes of the previous night came to him. And then he was laughing..
“Clark couldn’t have ripped out his arm like that? No One Could!”
“Yes but Clark… didn’t he? Could he?”
He tried to shrug it off as his imagination, hallucinations, because of all the stress and ..what's it called? Hypothermia.. yeah.

But he couldn’t.

He washed his face and looked longingly at Clark’s toothbrush. Clark.. wouldn’t mind would he? H-hey he was supposed to traumatized and shit right? He picked up the brush and smiled.
Clark’s toothbrush wasn’t the only thing Whitney needed. He hobbled over to his closet and took out a pair of charcoal grey cargoes he thought he’d fit into. Clark sure had grown taller and stronger since he saw him last. He towered by a whole two inches over the ex-quarterback which irked him to distraction.
//Freshman no more.//
Whitney smiled lightly, almost feeling a sense of pride at the man Clark had obviously become.

He got into the pants and pulled on a grey tee shirt with full sleeves that covered his wounded bandaged arms. The only visible evidences of last night were now on his face.
//How do I hide this disgrace?//

Got into a pair of runner shoes that were one size bigger. Damn those bastards, his favorite pair of jeans had been shredded and God knows which one of those scumbags was wearing his jacket right now.
//Which reminds me…//
Whitney Fordman was troubled no more by the nightmares and the painful memories. He was strengthened by them.

//Someone’s got to pay.//

He looked down from the loft to the main house. He could see his truck parked at a distance in a shed behind the loft where it couldn’t be seen from the main house. Was it luck or shrewd thinking on Clark’s part that Jonathan hadn’t planned to go the shed anytime this Saturday? Actually, it was Martha’s idea. Course Whitney didn’t know she already knew about his being there.

He couldn’t thank Clark enough for having understood his need for keeping the whole thing from getting public. The last thing he wanted right now was for his mother to know. Already Betty Fordman was freaked at the idea of her son living dangerously as a Marine. She breaks so easily, specially since dad died.
Besides, a Marine cleans up his own mess.
//And his commanding officer’s.. if ordered to…//

It seemed quiet, and he had no intentions of running into Mr. and Mrs. Kent right now. He slowly crept down the stairs and towards the shed.

Martha saw him coming down. Her first instinct was to go out and catch him before he left in his delicate state of health. But Jonathan was in the middle of one of his avid dissertations on the injurious presence of a Lex Luthor in his son’s life and would not be taking a coffee break anytime soon. Martha sighed and decided to let him go. When she saw he was moving, limping rather, towards his truck, she picked up a feather duster and started moving inwards, away from the table by the window that the two had been sitting on.

“Hey where you going? I’m not done yet!”
“Yes I know darling and I am listening. I just would like to get something constructive done in the meantime as well”
Martha gave her husband one of those famous Kent smiles that kill. Its obvious where Clark gets it from.
Jonathan scowled light-heartedly, got up and followed her as she went about her cleaning chores.
“Oh so now I'm interrupting you in your constructive drives am I?”
“You were saying something about Lionel Luthor building a secret nuclear reactor under the local mall?”
Jonathan threw up his handsome hands in the air.
“Jeez woman, I hate it when you use that deadly sarcasm of yours on me. Were you listening at all?”
Jonathan sighed helplessly. Women.

“Not... ok maybe not in the local mall.”


Next Chapter >>

JM: Young tilted head closeup
cyndrarae

Smallville: Penance (13/?) (Clark/Whitney)



<< Previous Chapter

Chapter 13


Saturday 1010 hrs

Whitney stopped at a phone booth and called up Lana's cell phone. He wasn't carrying any since he'd been with the Corp.

“Hey.. its Whitney..”
“Whitney! Where are you?? Why did you not go home last night?”
“How.. how do you know?”
“Clark called.” … Whitney held his breath.
“He said that he told your mom that.. you and I.. that we were together last night and that’s why… you know… she-she was so worried!”

Whitney let go.
“Jeez he did that? Uhh Lana I hope you’re not angry at him for doing so, I.. I told him he could.. you know,, that you wouldn’t mind. Plus, since Aunt Nell isn’t in town I didn’t think it would be a problem…”
“Whitney its fine really, happy to cover for you anytime you know that!” Whitney could hear her bright smile in her voice. He smiled too.
“Thanks Lana.”
“hey no problem. Wanna tell me where you were last night by the way?”

Whitney felt his gut in knots.
“L-Lana I’ll explain everything later, I promise. Right now…”
“Yeah Yeah.. that’s what Clark said too. Take your own sweet time honey”
She meant it. She was really concerned now, but she meant it. He relaxed.
“Thanks again Lana, you’re the best. I gotta go now, catch you later.”
“Bye Whit..” and she added softly, “Take care.”

Whitney couldn’t help but smile Clark had had the same idea he did about how to assure his mother about not turning up last night. Either they were both equally dumb so couldn’t come up with a better excuse or… huh. They were both equally dumb period.

Whitney then called up his mom on her cell phone. He stood silently as he heard his mom shriek with joy to hear his voice.
“Whitney! Where are you?”
“..Mom ..”
“Son I know you’re an adult now and everything and I really shouldn’t be… but you could at least have given me a call! I was worried sick about you”
"……"
“Hello?”
“Yeah I’m here.. ..I’m sorry mom..”

Betty was surprised.
“You’re sorry? What no fight? No I’m-a-big-boy-now and I-deserve-a-little-privacy-too and stay-out-of-my-personal-stuff!?!”
"……"
Whitney placed a hand over the speaker and sagged against the booth.

“Baby are you okay?”
Shit, now he had alarmed his mother.
“Yeah I’m fine mom. I guess I was …huh.. waiting for you to complete your now-listen-up-young-man-I-am-still-your-mother lecture before I said something.”
He forced himself to chuckle.
“Hmmm… Whitney…” Betty’s tone wasn’t angry anymore. She sounded quiet amused actually.
//Good//

“Mom listen.. I’m on my way back home now and.. and I’m just gonna pick my stuff and head back to the base.. I gotta catch the next bus out.”
“What? So soon? You weren’t supposed to go until tomorrow right?”
“Yeah but mom, I got paged. Something’s up at the base I gotta go.”
"……"
“Mom hey.. I’m sorry I cant help it!”
“At least come by the store darling before you go.. surely you have time to..”
“Mom I cant ok? I gotta catch the first bus out and that’s in an hour… I’ll… I gotta go.”
"……"
“Mom… I.. bye Mom.”

He hung up and smothered his sobs with his hands.

Betty Fordman’s son was a Marine now. Of course he didn’t have time for his old mother. Shush.. what a silly thing to expect!
She went to the back of the store and cried.

Whitney got into his truck and drove home. Couldn’t get any more miserable could he? He got home, gathered the stuff he‘d brought and stuff he needed, dumped everything into the truck and got in. He would have to come back at night maybe to keep the truck back. But right now, he had other business to take care of.

Clark was heading towards his farm right then. He reached the shed and … the truck was gone.

He swung around and looked up at his loft with his vision.

“Damn FUCK DAMN FUCK SHIT!!”
He cursed and cursed as he ran up , already knowing what he was gonna find, or Not find.
//Well at least the Fordman truck aint missing anymore. But it still contains incriminating evidence.//

Clark was so … so angry and so.. worried about Whitney it was driving him mad. How had the boy managed to drag himself out of bed? He had looked like he would break into a million pieces if he even touched him! Never had he felt this anguished and… desperate.. it almost pained him physically… but then he remembered he had felt like this before.. every time, every single time that he had come in contact with those damn stones.. every single time he had felt like his life was slowly being squeezed out of him… super strong renegade alien my ass.
//Where are you Whitney? God I hope you’re okay… because if you’re not, you’re dead meat.//

And he sped out. He had a good idea where he might be headed. But first he had to go tell Lana what to do and say if Chloe or the detectives came talking to her. He didn’t tell her what really happened but promised to, eventually. Meanwhile, Lana would cooperate. No problem. Whitney was the problem right now. And history will tell you Whitney could sure be a handful.

Whitney stopped a short distance away from the gas station. He saw Mark Webber come out of the small cabin behind, and exchange some notes with a staff guy. Then the other guy left and Mark turned around to go into the cabin. Whitney pushed his truck into fourth gear and accelerated right towards the bastard. Mark turned to see what the noise was, saw the huge truck rushing towards it, and then saw who was driving it. The look of pure terror that came on his face was precious. He jumped out of the way, but Whitney wasn’t planning to crush him anyways. He swerved and drove the truck straight into his cabin. The little wooden shed came crashing down as Whitney reversed and came out. Sped forward to hit the structure again, this time bringing it down completely. Mark was absolutely horrified.

Whitney got out of his truck. It hurt like hell, but he wasn’t gonna let it show in front of Mark Webber. The latter had frozen but now he ran, or at least tried to, he stumbled and fell. Whitney was over him in an instant. He grabbed the collars on his overall and socked him in the face until he saw stars.

Whitney was in a rage.

He hit him with all the might he could muster and Mark didn’t stand a chance. He kicked Mark in the groin and Mark let out the loudest scream of his life.

“Why??”
Another kick right there.
“What did I ever do to you??”
Another. Mark was gasping for breath now. He was bent over trying to protect himself from more kicks and shaking one hand vigorously, trying to ask Whitney to stop. Whitney stopped.
“Answer me bastard. You left me to die. Why should I let you live?”
“I’m sorry man!”
“Oh that’s nice”
And Whitney couldn’t get any more angrier. He raised his damaged fist again to strike.

“No! No! Whit listen.. I.. we did not know Nigel was planning to kill you. We.. we thought he was.. he was just foolin' around you know… let you hang and then…. set you free… Oww!”
Whitney let the fist fall. And again. And again.
“Sonofabitch!” Whitney had no words to express his hatred, his anger for the guy. He was almost in tears himself because he wanted so much to avenge himself, but he couldn’t kill Mark. He just couldn’t. Nigel maybe, but he was already dead.

He let go. He didn’t know what else to do.

Mark saw his shoulders droop and he sighed in relief. He tried again, “I swear Whitney we…”
This time Whitney drove his knee right into his jaw, so forcefully that he broke it and Mark would need years of surgery to ever be worth looking at. Mark howled in agony as blood flooded his mouth.
“You mention this to anyone Mark, you know I am gonna sing too. And God knows I wont let you live a moment of peace all your life.”

He turned around and started walking. To his truck. The pain returning to every inch of his body. He’d obviously broken some of Martha’s careful stitches and was bleeding now. The tee shirt was already drenched in blood on his side. He quickened his steps before he could fall, got into the truck and drove away.

Next stop – Brent Madison.

Clark Kent reached the gas station hardly a minute later. He saw the destruction Whitney had left in his wake and … //damn the man is fast! And angry. I’ve never had so much problems catching up with anyone before..//

He walked up and knelt beside Mark lying on the ground still howling and holding his face with both hands. Clark scanned to see if he was serious but apart from the broken jaw, which threatened to bleed him to death, and a very sore genital area.. he looked ok. He flipped out Mark’s cell phone from his front pocket and called 911. Assured that help was on the way, he got up..

“dhha..mmmma…”
“Who did this to you?”
Clark asked. But Mark stayed quiet. Very quiet. Obviously whoever did this had put the fear of God in him.
//That will do.//
Clark sped off. He didn’t know where to go. Who were the other guys? Brent Madison, Hector Hannigan and Dan…something.

//Where are you off to Whitney? And how long can you keep this up?//


Whitney was heading towards the most desolate area on Smallville. He had been to Brent’s place but it was locked and his girlfriend told him he went to a friend’s place, Hector is it? Yeah that’s him. Shooting crap and slugging beers and such. Would probably also find his other friends there.. you know that Mark and Dan?

That was all Whitney needed to know. The thought of having to take them all together crossed his mind but he was too crazed at the moment to care. Seemed like Whitney was phasing out again. The pain was relentless and he was feeling breathless now and then. It didn’t occur to him to turn back or go later.. all he was concerned right now is that he would bleed to death BEFORE he reached his destination.

He drove up into the small parking lot just outside Hector’s apartment, and killed the engine. He leaned back on the seat and rested for a moment. He closed his eyes, not sure what he planned to do here. Whatever it was, it has to be now. Or never. He was about to jump out when something caught his eye: two cars away, stood the black sedan. The bloody black sedan stood right there in full public view. What the...? Those bastards, those assholes, those Complete Idiots.

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He would recognize that car anywhere. And it was no coincidence it was parked here.

What Whitney didn’t know was that this was Nigel’s car. He had driven it up here last night, but driven out in Whitney’s truck to Reiley field with full intentions to fuck him, torture and then kill him, and dispose of his body and the truck together. The car was forgotten by the complete idiots inside. Had they any brains, they would have done something about it by now. Right now, they were getting themselves drunk and pissing their pants in vain attempts to curb the growing fear. Their boss was dead. And the stooges were at a loss as to what to do. They couldn’t go to the police obviously, and they didn’t know what had happened to Whitney or.. Whitney’s body.

Out in the parking lot, Whitney decided he was angry with the fucking car too. He got out and walked slowly towards the car. The night before played in his mind over and over. Nigel was the enemy.. he always had been. But the betrayal of his friends hurt even more than he thought possible. These were the boys he had played with since they were little kids.. how could they? How could they?

He reached the car and stopped in front of it. Now, if only it were… Whitney drove his right foot into the bonnet with all his strength… the shrill alarm rang out… Good.
The mostly vacant lot was reverberating with the loud noise. Whitney calmly stood by the car, leaning for support, crossed one feet with the other …and waited.

The alarm rang out loud and clear and everyone inside heard it. So did Hector, Brent and Dan. They recognized the alarm as that of Nigel’s car and startled. Who the hell? All of them came rushing out..

There stood the scarecrow.. very much alive.. leaning on Nigel’s car.. comfortable amid the screeching noise.. staring at the three of them.

They had never thought they’d see the guy alive. Nigel had made his intentions very very clear and was about to pay them handsomely for it. Had it gone well, the stinking nobodys would have been rich by now. But here they were still, and there he was… like a nemesis.

Whitney’s state of mind was that of a crazed man hell-bent on committing suicide. The three bastards were taken aback, they didn’t know what to do. Were even getting scared, a lot. And then realized Whitney had just dared them all to come take him. Three on one. That’s to our advantage right?

They came out.. and advanced towards him just as he stepped towards them, his only weapon - a heavy wrench from his truck's toolbox. A small crowd began to gather... witnesses, he thought vaguely, but it didn't matter. Whitney forgot about the pain, the blood, nothing mattered anymore. Nothing…

Then there were suddenly these arms grabbing him from behind and hurling him around. He spun out of his daze and gazed up at the face so close to his.
“Clark”.
His voice was hardly a whisper.

Clark held on.
“Sorry to bother you guys!”
He was talking to the goons, who were equally shocked.
Clark chuckled and grinned.
“I ah.. really I’m embarrassed ..Whitney what's wrong with you? Don’t you remember your friends? See…”
He spun Whitney around to face the guys again.
“Your friends all of them ..remember? Your team mates..! Brent here and you together won the big match! Don’t you remember?”
“What the fuck?? Clark..”

Whitney struggled to break free but Clark was way too strong. He was doing the jester act again.
“Hey hey guys, guess I owe you an explanation.. Whitney isn’t feeling too well right now. He.. we don’t know what's gotten into him.. he doesn’t remember his friends or family at all!”
“Clark..?”
“And he’s having this obsession with fast cars! Look at that, what a beauty.”
He let out a perky whistle towards the still screeching sedan.
“Forgive him will ya.. he didn’t mean no harm. I’m just gonna take him back home now ok?”

Grin in place, he half dragged half carried a struggling Whitney to his truck.
“Clark.. stop. Let me go. Let me go I say!”
“Not one word Whitney.”
His voice was so low and so… angry… Clark was upset. Oh boy.

“Lets get out of here before this gets out of hand.”

Suddenly it bothered Whitney a lot that Clark was angry with him. He complied quietly, got into the passenger side while Clark took the wheel and they drove off. Whitney turned to stare at the three men once more. The message was loud and clear.
//This isn't over.//


Next Chapter >>

JM: Young tilted head closeup
cyndrarae

Smallville: Penance (14/?) (Clark/Whitney)



<< Previous Chapter


Chapter 14

Saturday 1100 hrs

“Where are we going?” Whitney was panting hard, from exertion and pain.
….
“Clark where are we going? I have to get to the bus station.. I’m taking the next bus out.”
Clark looked at him then and Whitney saw how angry and …hurt?.. he seemed.

“You’re not going anywhere. We’re going back to my place.”
“But..”
“Shut up Whitney before I kill you myself. The cops are looking for you right now. Your leaving like this will look very suspicious.”
“What? W-Why are the cops looking for me?”
“They’ve found out the link between the Mahaneys and us. They think one of us might have had something to do with his murder.”

“Damnit all the more reason to leave! I was supposed to go tomorrow anyway!”
“Then you will go tomorrow. Not today. Not that you’ll survive another hour without some medical help anyway. Wanna go to that hospital now?”
“No thanks.” Whitney was angry too, and added under his breath,
“Bastard”
“Watch it.”
“Dickhead”
“I said watch your mouth Fordman!”

Whitney was so taken aback by the rage in Clark's tone he didn't react for a whole three seconds.
“You tellin' me what to do freshman?”
“You’ve been away too long Whit. You need to learn the ropes round here again.”
“oh yeah?”
“Yeh. First things first.. I’m not a freshman anymore and you aint my senior anymore.”
“I remember us being friends too. Did that change as well?” Whitney added very softly.
“Haven’t you had enough of *friends* this week?”

That stung. And Clark immediately regretted it. Whitney sank into his seat as if trying to curl up and die.
“I’m.. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

They drove quietly towards the farm. Clark was really sorry he made that remark. But he was so angry too. He had nothing to say to the guy sitting next to him. No that’s not true. Fact was.. he thought he’d kill Whitney with his own hands if he turned to even Look at him.

He couldn’t believe Whitney, His Whitney would go do something so stupid! In broad daylight in front of at least five witnesses? Just the thing needed to embroil him further into what was already a serious criminal case. And without fear for his own safety? What if he hadn’t come on time? What if he had bled to death before he reached him? Already he could see the top he was wearing clinging to his side soaked in blood. He was in pain, he could tell. Every jerk would cause him to gasp and bite his lips arresting any sound before it could escape him.

//God I love you so much! I cant lose you Whit don’t you see?//

Whitney could see Clark was really angry. If he had to put it in words, he’d actually say Clark was behaving like a jilted lover. He almost chuckled at the thought. Almost. One look at Clark told him the kid was seriously pissed and would not tolerate any attempts at bad humor from him. He realized now what he did was a little stupid… ok a lot more stupid. But right then it had felt like the only thing he could do. He wanted to settle scores and not leave like a loser from this place. Or he might never have returned to it. He would have grown to hate the place, associating it with the worst night of his life. And he wouldn't have remembered it for the good moments he’d spent here – with his mom and dad, with Lana, with.. Clark.

Clark was really upset wasn’t he? It seemed odd he’d be so upset with him. Is it possible.. could he..? did he..?

Nah, Clark was just being Clark. Always concerned about everyone else.
And then he had said… “Havent you had enough of Friends this week?”

Whitney blanked out then. Seemed there were only two things left in his pathetic life now – last night’s memories and.. Clark. And both came in a package deal. Each hell-bent on reminding him of the other.

No but there was the pain too. He could always lose himself to that. He closed his eyes and let the agony take over. Every nerve in his body throbbed and ached. Good, he could try and count them one by one.

They reached the Kent property and Clark once again killed the engine, letting the truck roll quietly into the shed, as they neared the main house. He strained to catch any sounds from the house but there were none. Martha had taken Jonathan out shopping and would be gone awhile.
//Good//

He got out and looked at Whitney if he needed help. Of course he did, but Clark wasn’t sure if he should approach him after having made the comment that had really hurt Whitney. Whitney got out and stood wobbling on his wounded legs, one hand on the wound that had opened and was now bleeding. With the other he tried to drag his stuff out from the back. Clark came over.

“Leave it there. Unless you need something upstairs.”
“Clothes” Whitney hissed.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get them if you need any. Come on.”
Clark led the way. He so wanted to reach out and take Whitney into his arms. Carry him up and get him into bed as soon as possible. But Whitney needed his space. He was a self-respecting person who didn’t like being dependent on anyone for anything.

//If he needs my help, he’ll ask for it. Ask damnit!//

Clark clenched his fists and stood by the stairs, waiting for Whitney to go first. That way he could catch him if he fell. Whitney too stood at the foot of the stairs and wondered if he was gonna be able to get to the top by himself. He looked back at the truck wondering what the chances were of Clark letting him sleep in it.
//None I suppose//

Then he wondered why the hell was he here in the first place? Hah. Only because of the fact that he couldn’t go home to his mom and nobody else would take him in. Well there was Lana.. down the street.. he could… he looked at Clark watching him intently. Those green eyes… He started up the stairs.

//You’re a fool for love Fordman. Admit it, there’s no where else you’d rather be//

Whitney made it up the loft without incident but once he got there, he was totally spent. The blood loss was taking its toll. Clark couldn’t help it anymore. He scooped him up into his arms and carried him to the bed. Whitney was too tired to react. He let himself be manhandled as Clark slowly pulled out the blood-soaked top from him and laid him on his back. Then he pulled out his shoes, placed his legs on the bed and covered him with the sheets. He sat beside him and gingerly touched the open wound. The stitches had been torn off in Whitney’s fight with Mark and Martha wasn’t around. Clark was in panic.

//Why couldn’t I have useful powers like healing damnit!//
“Let me take you to a hospital Whit.” To hell with the cops.
“N-No.”

Clark then called up the only person he could think of. Lex. The billionaire’s son picked up the phone immediately, and Clark asked him to get his doctor immediately to the loft.
“Get in here as fast as you can please. I need you.”
Clark could hear Lex giving orders in the background as he spoke.
“Hang in there Clark. I’m coming”
And the line went dead.

Whitney was passing out now. He was getting cold and he couldn’t help thinking, maybe this is how it felt to die. Did he want to die? No. NO! A few hours ago when he’d woken up, yes he’d felt like his life held no value, no purpose any more. But now, what changed?

//I don’t know. All I know is, I wanna live. God please.. let me wake up to see Clark’s face again. Please… please…//

Whitney was breathless. “Clark…”
Clark was so scared, he was blinking back tears, scared what he'd do if something happened to Whit…
“Yes Whit.. help is on the way. Hold on okay? Hold my hand Whit.. hold my hand.”
Whitney weakly grasped the hand that was offered to him.
“Clark .. I…”
“Save your energy Whit.. I’m right here. So sorry I yelled at you baby. Am right here. Aint going nowhere.”
“Clark…”

Whitney passed out.

Lex arrived in his chopper with his doctor in no time. They landed close to the loft and rushed out towards it. Lex in front running, and consequently his doctor, a bodyguard and a secretary running behind him.

They reached upstairs and what Lex saw left him relieved for a second that it wasn’t Clark, then concerned that Whitney didn’t look good. Clark was holding Whitney in his arms frantically rocking him back and forth. He was in tears and was murmuring to Whitney over and over.
“I love you Whit. I love you so much. Please don’t leave me.”

The doctor rushed to the patient and immediately went to work. Everything was ready. He put an IV into him and patched up all his wounds. He also gave him some shots of painkillers. The doctor said he would have ideally liked to give a blood transfusion if the gentlemen would like to get him to his clinic. Lex looked at Clark. Clark was torn between doing what was best for Whitney’s health and keeping him safe from the murder investigation. Lex spoke up.

“Tell you what Doctor, why don’t you find out what his blood group is and give him the transfusion here itself? I know you can do it”
The Luthor smile alone was worth a million dollars. Lex couldn’t be thanked enough.

So Whitney didn’t have to go anywhere. He could stay right here, with Clark, and they didn’t want it any other way.


Next Chapter >>

JM: Young tilted head closeup
cyndrarae

Smallville: Penance (15/?) (Clark/Whitney)



<< Previous Chapter

Chapter 15


Sunday 0815 hrs

Whitney was back at the cross.

Tied, spreadeagled, naked, hurting, bleeding, cold. Whitney couldn’t believe this was happening again. And Nigel was there. Cutting him, raping him. Mocking him.

“Who’s your savior Whitney?”
The menacing voice was at it again. Whitney squirmed against the bonds that seemed to only get tighter the more he moved.
“What's the name? What is it? Answer me…” And the knife turned.

Blinding white pain. Blinding white flashes again. The spring formal dance.
“You and I’ve had a weird year. I started out thinking you just wanted to steal Lana. I'm not trying to make excuses, but... I did some things I'm not proud of. I'm sorry, Clark.”
“I appreciate that.”
//No don’t appreciate! Don’t appreciate! That's not enough. I’m really really sorry Clark.. //

The knife turned again. And the flashes turned to red. The loft, Clark’s loft.
Clark holding him, rocking him.
“I love you Whit. I love you so much. Please don’t leave me.”

And the rocking.

More flashes.. more pain… The Fordman’s. the green tattoo. As green as.. Clark’s eyes…
“Did those guys give it to you? Whitney, they’re bad news.”
“You spend all your time trying to steal Lana. Now suddenly you want to become my own personal boy scout?”
“That’s not true.”
“It’s tough seeing yourself the way others see you, isn’t it, Kent?”
//No I didn’t mean that. I see you Clark and you’re beautiful.. your heart, your soul.. //
“Stay away from those guys.”
“You’re not my father, Kent. Now get the hell out of here!”

Blackout, total blackout. Its dark, its cold. How can it be hurting so much?

And then there is Clark. Hauling him up into his arms, his face lightly pressed against his.
“I’m sorry Whit, I’m so sorry”
“What for? I deserved it.”
“Whit that’s not true.” And the tugging. “Whit.. Whit?”
//I deserved it. I deserved it. I deserved it. I..//

The tugging was quite insistent now.
//No, leave me alone… leave me! .. I deserved it…//
“No you didn’t Whitney! Now wake up!”
“Whitney!!”

And Whitney finally came to. He opened his eyes and saw the most beautiful face he’d ever laid eyes on.
“Clark”
“Whitney you gotta get up.. the cops, they’re here.”

Cops? Oh yeah the cops.
Whitney wasn’t completely awake yet, he felt exhausted, like he weighed a thousand tons. There was no way in hell he could get up today.
“Come on… out of bed Whitney fast!”
“Mmm.. what time is it?”
“8 'o clock…” after a thought he added, “Sunday.”
“What? Shit.” Whitney had no idea he’d slept so long. And he was supposed to be on his way by now.
“Shit. Shit.”

With superhuman strength, he pulled himself upright on the bed. He groaned as he came up but caught himself when he saw Clark turning to him with the most alluring look of concern on his face. Whitney stared back, waiting for Clark to say something. The boy didn’t. So he did.

“I have to get back to the base.”
Clark had known this was coming and yet... he could swear he heard his heart smash to pieces at the declaration. You know with the enhanced hearing and all.

“Hah. You’re kidding right? It’s the polizei down there Einstein. And they’re looking for a Whitney Fordman. Do you know what that means??”

Clark was upset and worried all at the same time. He decided there was no point arguing right now and continued running around the loft setting things right, making sure there were no traces of the last day’s medical commotion in there. Couldn’t have the detectives knowing Whitney was the scarecrow-ed victim. Obviously.

Whitney followed all his movements with his keen eyes. Boy he was fast.
“They’re gonna come up here any moment now, they’re down there talking to my folks... hurry up you moron!”

Whitney smiled at the casually thrown out reprimand. And painfully hoisted himself out of bed. They had to deal with the cops right now. He could get back to the base later. He could travel all night to be there tomorrow morning right on time.

Clark had only to turn his head a little to look down at the detective called Connor along with Officer Haley coming towards the loft. This loft that he had converted into a comfortable lodging in the sky was Clark’s pride and joy. And in the past two days, his once fortress of solitude had been invaded by more people than had ever cared to come by in the past two years. And now these men… come here to take his Whit away… he wouldn’t let that happen. Clark had that look on his face where he is concentrating so hard the vessels in his throat tighten up, making him look all the more sexier. For the nth time, Whitney thought he’d never set eyes on anyone so beautiful.

So while Whitney was sleeping, the police force had been quite busy.

They found out about the two high school kids who’d been elemental in the capture of the notorious bank robbers as also the accidental death of their main man Wade Mahaney. This same guy was Nigel Mahaney’s younger brother. One was Clark Kent, the other – Whitney Fordman.

They came to speak to Martha and Jonathan Kent. And that’s where they found the elusive Fordman kid. Martha told them he had spent the.. the night at Clark’s loft.

They spoke to the Kent kid. He didn’t seem to know much about the night before and they didn’t think he was lying either. And he sure didn’t seem like he’d been victimized. Plus, the boy was too innocent-looking to be involved in such a vicious crime. A trait that would go a long long way in keeping the identity of the strongest man on earth a bona fide secret.

Now the Fordman kid – this is where things get interesting. Whitney Fordman had graduated and joined the Marine Corp a year ago. But he’d been back in town this past week. According to his mother, he was supposed to leave this morning but instead he left yesterday, the morning right after the night of the murder. Officer Louis called up the marines base but Fordman hadn’t reported back yet. Turns out he was hiding out at Clark’s.
Why is that?

And where was Fordman the night of the scarecrow? According to eyewitnesses, he was seen at the new joint called Zinc with a bunch of kids who’d been his high school mates a year ago. Kids who, apparently also hung out with Nigel whenever he was in town. Kids they suspected to have been involved in several assaults, heists and DUIs around town. Kids that Officer Louis was finding more about.

And then there was the mother’s statement according to which he had been with his ex-girlfriend Lana Lang. They talked to Lana Lang and she said the same thing, although she seemed quite vague about the details. Was she hiding something? Was she involved?

Involved in what?!? They still weren’t sure what really happened. Bits and pieces that didn't seem to fit together at all.

So Nigel and the punks rigged up some guy on the scarecrow and had fun with him. Blood and gore fun. And then what? Where did the guy go? Did someone come to rescue him? If so then who? And who or what the hell ripped the guy’s fucking arm off?

Alright so let's assume someone did come and rip his arm off. Then what? He trained the gun to Nigel’s head and shot him dead. Then he got the boy down and took him where? His home? So the to-be-killer is dead and the victim or his rescuer or both are the killers now. Going by Nigel’s foot-long rap sheet, Detective Connor didn’t think he was interested in getting the poor guys anyway.

//Focus Connor. Focus. And don’t forget.. Whitney Fordman has a truck. A red one.//
Connor’s phone rang. He took the call, it was Officer Louis. The call ended and the two men climbed up the loft.

“Whitney Fordman?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
Whitney’s face was still a mess. His right eye was still only half-open, and there were bruises. Very many visible bruises.
“What happened to your face son?”
“I… I was in an accident.”
“What accident?”

Clark spoke up.. “He.. He fell asleep on the wheel yesterday morning while driving to the bus station” He chuckled lightly, like he was narrating a really funny story.
“Yeah..” It was Whitney now, getting the hint.
“And I crashed into this tree and so.. you see… C-Clark here found me and.. and brought me to his loft.”

“Why didn’t you take him to the hospital Mr. Kent?”
“Uhh I insisted not to. I didn’t have time for.. for all that. I had to get back to the base as soon as possible.”
“But you’re still here.”
"……"
“I’m leaving in the afternoon.”
Clark looked at Whitney. He didn’t like what he was hearing and only hoped he was still in cock-and-bull mode.

“Hmmm” Detective Connor seemed lost in deep thought.
“So.. you left home yesterday morning to go back to your base, but you had an accident and Mr. Kent here brought you back here, tended to you?”
“y-yeah”
“okay.” Then he suddenly changed the subject.
“Where were you on Friday night Mr. Fordman?”

“I went out with a few friends of mine to.. to the Zinc. After that I went to.. to…”
He looked at Clark. Clark tried to assure him with the blank but rigid stare and a very very slight nod.

Whitney sighed. He had no choice. “I was with Lana Lang. She was my girlfriend in…”
“High school. Yes.”
“What time did you reach her place?”
Uh-oh.
“Around.. 11 I guess. I’m not sure.”
“Why not?”

Whitney sighed again. Clark wanted to do something but he didn’t know what.
“Because I.. was.. slightly drunk?”
“Ah.. of course. Alright then what time did you leave Miss Lang’s place?”
“Umm about 9.30 in the morning. From there I headed back home, picked up stuff and then…”
“Yes the accident and everything. So when did you get the time to drive your knee into Mark Webber’s jaw then?”

Shit.

“I-I.. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Clark and Whitney both were holding their breath.
“Mr. Fordman, you were seen at Mark’s gas station around ten in the morning where you proceeded to bull-doze his cabin to the ground and break his jaw. Relax, Mr. Webber is not pressing any charges. I wonder why.. I have no proof but I think that is actually what happened to your face didn’t it?”

And breaths were collectively let out. Clark spoke up first.
“Detective Connor you can’t just accuse …”
“Mr. Kent I can see that you deeply care about your… friend here…”
There was a question mark in his tone. And an exclamation mark too.

“Now what I need to know is .. what was it Mr. Fordman and Mr. Webber fought about?”
He looked at Whitney.
Whitney didn’t know what to say.
“I guess I’ll just have to find out for myself then. Uh Mr. Fordman, where is your truck?”

Dead beat silence.

“I-Its out in the shed. Behind the loft.” Clark spoke up.

The detective wanted to see it. Clark thought there ought to be some kind of search warrant for this but wasn’t sure if asking for one would help their already stinking story right now. So he complied quietly.
They all got down the loft, Whitney quite painfully but putting on his best face so as not to reveal his bodily injuries.

Whitney was scared shitless. The truck might be loaded with evidence of the scuffle and maybe even of Nigel who drove the truck to get to Reiley’s field that… night.

Once inside the shed, he took one look at the truck and couldn't help smiling at Clark. The boy had done an excellent job of cleaning it up and the officers of the law saw as much. Damn. There was nothing they could prove with the truck now. A more minute examination of the truck would definitely need a search warrant because now Jonathan and Martha had also joined them. The kids may have been hesitant to speak up but Kent senior was obviously not.

So far, they had nothing but circumstantial evidence. There was nothing to tie either of them at the scene.
Unless..

Detective Connor kept the thought to himself. For now. He turned to leave.

Officer Haley looked at Whitney and said, “Whitney, you are not to leave town while this investigation is under way.”
“But Officer I have to report to the base tomorrow.”
“No can do. You want me to talk to your commanding officer? I could do that.”
“Uh..”
“That settles it then” This was Detective Connor. And the party shoved off.
“Oh and Whitney…” Haley knew the Fordmans personally.
“Your mother doesn’t know you are still in town, maybe you should give her a ring?”

Whitney stared long and hard at his toes. He’d wanted so much for the whole thing to just be over for Christ's sake. And for his mom not to be involved or hurt by any of this. Now that he was in town longer, he just couldn’t keep running and hiding his face from his mom.

Clark was lost in his thoughts as he watched the officers drive away. He had noticed the weird look that came over Connor’s face immediately after the previous look of disappointment at seeing the good-as-new truck. Clark’d seen and relished the expression for a while only to realize Connor had something else up his scheming sleeve. He was determined to find what that was. So far, he couldn’t think of anything concrete that might place him or Whitney at the scene that night. But Clark Kent had never learnt to be complacent. Every time he’d let his guard down, fate would deliver a blow so severe it would bring him back to his alien senses. An uncontrollable new strength, a painful new weakness, brutal reminders of how mortal all his loved ones were and how immortal he was himself.

He hated it.

Clark was not about to get complacent in this matter. This meant way too much to him. He had to ensure Whitney came out of this unscathed… well… too late for that. Whitney had been scarred for life. He had been through hell and back and it wasn’t over yet. Clark turned to look at the object of his undying affection. His obsession.

Whitney looked worried and tired. And he looked back at Clark with this confusion in his eyes, and on his face.

What was he thinking? He could see anger, he could see pain, he saw fear and resentment, but he also saw friendship and gratefulness, even coyness and ... love?

Point was.. Whitney was lost. He needed to be found.
And brought back home. Clark smiled.
//High time I did something about it then.//


Next Chapter >>

JM: Young tilted head closeup
cyndrarae

Smallville: Penance (16/?) (Clark/Whitney)



<< Previous Chapter


Chapter 16


Sunday 0902 hrs

Whitney felt the eyes of Jonathan and Martha Kent on him and turned to face them. He didn’t know what they knew but obviously they must have inquired what he was doing in Clark’s loft. He greeted them softly and awaited the barrage of questions he wasn’t ready to answer.

Martha smiled sadly at him. She looked up at Jonathan, who by now had heard the whole story from Clark himself. He also looked at Whitney with a deep look of understanding on his face.

Martha and Jonathan walked up to him and Jonathan asked, “How you doing son?”
Whitney hated it when people called him son. Specially the COs at the corp. It sounded so patronizing and spiteful, like they were mocking the father-less kid. But not when Mr. Kent said it. In fact, it sounded almost… the way his own dad used to call him.

“Good sir. Thank you.. for…”
“Hey..” Jonathan gently patted him on his back, stopping him in mid-sentence. Martha touched his shoulder so lovingly and said,
“Rest Whitney. Go on.”

Whitney smiled at them both, as best as he could with tears threatening to show and started walking towards the loft with Clark right behind him.

//God bless the Kents. The whole family is driving me crazy! I gotta get out of here.//

Clark thanked his parents for being so wonderful, all with a single look and a smile on his angelic face. Then he tuned on his heels to catch up with Whitney.
“Hey wait for me.”
//Yeah right. As if!//

He caught up with Whitney but stayed a step behind. Whitney was lost deep in thought and didn’t even notice Clark following him. Or if he did, he didn’t let on. Clark was worried, but he said nothing.

They climbed up the loft and Whitney grabbed the phone.
“Betty Fordman here.”

“Mom..”

“Whitney? Where are you? Do you know the police is looking for you?”
“Yeah I met with them. They just had to ask a few questions that’s all..”
“About what? The scarecrow murder? Baby what the hell do you have to do with it?”
“N-Nothing mom nothing at all! I just kind-of knew the dead guy's brother and it was important to their line of investigation or some such bull.. don’t worry about it.”
“uhh okay.” Not convinced, but she decided not to push it.
“Mom.. I don’t know why they want me to stay in town a little longer while this investigation is going on so..”
“You’re in Smallville then?”
“Yeah, I-I’ll come home in a while okay? I got some stuff to.. take care of.. but.. I’m comin' home mom.”

His mother was so happy, she wept although she didn't let it on. Whitney could feel the warmth of her smile through the phone. It took so little so make her so happy, and he couldn’t even do as much for her.

“That’s… that’s great… see you at home then darling. I.. you know I was disappointed we couldn't say goodbye before you left!”
“I know mom. Me too.” He considered telling her about his new and improved face but decided to postpone it for as long as possible. He bid her goodbye and hung up.

Clark was standing right beside him.

“You’re going home.”
Whitney turned, taken by surprise. “Y-Yeah.. I think I should.. you know..”
“Yeah sure. Whatever.”

Was Clark upset again? Clark was upset again.

Clark didn’t really see anything wrong logically with Whitney’s decision to move back into his house but… still…
How could he?… just like that? … after all that they went through together… did he still not know? … did he not understand? or was he pretending not to??

Whitney was ..well.. its complicated. Whitney was dying to touch Clark, to kiss his lips, to hold his face in his hands, feel that mouth over every inch of his body… just like in his dreams. Problem was, he was scared. He was so scared that he’d open his eyes and see Nigel instead of Clark and he would scream. And then, what if he had only imagined it? What if Clark was just being friendly?
//Friendly upset? Standing there like that.. pouting, hurting? //

He sure had been hallucinating a lot lately, maybe…. And ok even if he weren’t, the .. the implications of..//jeez. I cant do it!//

Whitney was running, running from it all. He couldn’t deal with this right now. The marine was going soft. Not good.

He got up from where he’d been sitting. He looked around for his bags but they were still in the truck, he guessed. So… this it then… better get out of here soon as possible before..

“Th-Thanks Clark.. for.. everything.”
Clark was quiet. He just stood there, not moving a muscle.
“I.. I guess you’ve helped me, saved me so… so many times now, I cant even begin to.. cant even try to begin to .. to repay you for everything that.. that you did for me…”
Clark still said nothing. Whitney had this sad, forced smile on his face, and he was struggling to keep that too. He tried to laugh a little and continued….
“You know its really.. really amazing how.. I mean.. how come you’re always there when.. you know.. its like you were destined to …save people from ..I don’t know.. trouble. That night…”

//Don’t say it Whitney, don’t say it. SHUT UP!//
“That night was … like… the worst night of my life …times hundred…th-thousand”
And he tried the forced chuckle again. He was trying very very hard to express his deep gratitude for Clark without giving away any of his other feelings for him… why? Don’t ask him. He doesn’t know.
//Why is it you just can't hold your tongue private?//
“Clark, I don’t know.. I don’t know how I could…”

“There is one thing you can do.”

The man spoke! Clark was watching Whitney very very intently. He was standing a good five feet away from Whitney, arms crossed at his chest, feet set firmly on the ground, his windblown hair caressing his forehead. Whitney decided Clark Kent was a god.

And then his deep voice brought him out of his daze… “There is one thing you can do.”

“What?”
Clark smiled. God that smile!
“You could return me my clothes.”

Beat.

“You mean..?”
“Yeah…” The nodding was back.
“That’s my favorite pair of drawstring slacks you’re wearing you know.”
“Uhh ..you want them now?”
Clark started moving towards Whitney. Very slowly. Whitney’s mouth went dry.
“I want them now Whitney.”
The voice was growing softer and deeper.

“Everything.”

Whitney realized what was happening. He saw Clark approaching him and ….
//move! idiot move!//
…he froze.

“Take off my shoes”
Whitney slowly shifted his feet to take off the runner shoes he borrowed from Clark. And he stood barefoot, transfixed by Clark’s relentless stare in place.
“Take off my tee shirt” Clark moved closer.
Whitney couldn’t stop his arms as they slowly raised to pull off the tee from his upper torso. The cool breeze hit his bare back and chest.

“Now..”
Clark was very close now. So close, he could feel his breath on his face. And smell his earthy-exotic scent on his own.
“Take off my pants.”

Whitney didn’t move.

The voice was a whisper in his ear. Clark’s face was hardly an inch away from his. His hands were on his shoulders, moving downwards. His lips moving against his right ear, his short hair on the side.
“Do it. Take them off Whitney.”

Whitney was hypnotized. But it slowly registered what Clark was asking him to do. And he couldn't.
“..Clark..”
“Shhhhh… here let me…”
And he felt Clark’s fingers drawing smooth lines on his stomach and along the waistband of his slacks. Slowly they reached the front, where they proceeded downwards, to his groin. The pressure of the fingers was just enough to drive Whitney crazy and keep him longing for more. Clark was only using the tip of his fingers to touch him as he outlined the contours of his organ, begging for attention.

Clark whispered in his ear, “You’re not going anywhere Whit. You’re mine, and you’re staying with me.”
Whitney’s breath caught in his.. throat was it? He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t move. Why the hell does anybody need bondage?

Clark’s fingers in slow motion drew out the strings and the slacks came loose. He gently slid them off Whit and without giving the boy any time to process or freak, he brought his hands up to causally rest over the newly exposed, beautifully round bottom. One hand on each cheek. Whitney gasped. In fact, Whitney hyperventilated. He was aroused, and hot and feverish and anxious … but mostly he was plain scared. He was so scared.

“Shhhh…”
Clark pressed his lips onto his ear and his face against his and held his hands where he’d left them, giving Whitney time to get used to them being there, on his ass. He caught the ear between his teeth and sucked. Whitney was clenching his fists on his sides, not sure what to do. He was almost on the verge of bolting, and at the same time, he didn’t want to miss a single moment of these erotic sensations. No way in hell.

He realized his already hard penis was exposed and his balls hung heavy, yet Clark hadn't touched them at all. Despite himself, Whitney ached to be touched... feel Clark's warm hands all over him. Reflexively he leaned in to get closer to Clark but the other boy paid no attention. Instead Clark focused on his lips and tongue as they mapped a slow journey from the ear to the beautiful jawline, down and down and then back up towards the ridiculously long eyelashes, to the droplets of sweat on his forehead and to the middle of his closed eyes. He nuzzled there with his lips for a while, before moving down the sculpted nose and gently kissed the tip. Whitney couldn’t help sighing right then. He tingled all over, every nerve ending in his body longing for more, much more. He was no longer scared … his hands had finally managed to unclench and go around Clark to hold him, closer to his painfully aroused body.

//God…What am I doing?//

When Clark's clothed erection finally pressed up against his naked one, he felt like he'd fly right out of his body. He was acutely aware of how Clark held him steady, and how his hands now caressed his ass, up and down, up and down, and rubbing small circles over and over until it drove Whitney absolutely out of his mind. Clark had the most beautiful hands – long, elegant fingers, large and plush palms, not soft, but not rough or coarse either. Those hands gripped him with such firmness that informed him he was well taken care of. That he needn't worry about anything. That he was owned.
And with such love it was breaking his heart.

And Clark’s mouth… that sensual mouth.. with those luscious lips, that tongue he was using as a weapon… on Whitney’s face.. and his neck, his mouth .. they kissed.

Whitney was lost…lost in the seductive maze of sensual ecstasy and painful pleasure that Clark was weaving around him. His only guide was this rich, erotic, almost exotic smell the stronger boy emanated and which led him back to his ensnarer. Once again, he found himself held captive, naked and helpless to escape the sweet torture...he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

The kiss started out gentle but soon turned into a passionate battle of tongues hungry to get as much as they could and nothing was ever enough. Clark’s hands slid up to grip Whitney at his waist tightly. At first he gripped so tight that Whitney moaned, not just in pleasure but genuine pain.. and that brought Clark back to reality .. and he loosened his hold on the boy. They were kissing earnestly now, each exploring the other’s mouths and backs and behinds. Nothing could come between them, not even the damn clothes. Whitney was pulling at Clark’s shirt and ripped it in half while Clark pulled whatever was left off his shoulders and reached for his jeans. Whitney went for the zipper himself, not once disengaging from their passionate kiss. Clark’s hands came up to cradle the other’s face and then entangled themselves in the soft blonde hair that had filled his dreams for two years now.

“Whitney..”
“Don’t talk Clark.. don’t… talk…”

Whitney had got Clark undressed by now and the two bodies stood there, wrapped around each other in all their glory. Was it ever meant to be any other way?

Clark had never done this before, but while they were kissing, he had realized what he wanted. He wanted Whitney, he wanted to be inside Whitney, to own him, possess him and mark him as his own for eternity. And nothing could stand in his way now, not his lack of experience, not even Whitney. He wasn’t going to let the boy go.

He started pushing Whitney backwards, till they reached the bed. One moment Whitney was kissing Clark, next he was pushed back and he fell onto the bed and Clark was on top of him , recapturing his mouth with his. He pushed the boy down till he was flat on his back and gripped his wrists. Slowly he raised the hands to the sides of Whitney’s face and held them there. He separated Whitney’s knees and settled between the open legs, his cock rubbing vigorously against the boy’s.

“I have waited so long to do this…”
He said in that seductive voice, filled with lust and desire.
“You’re mine Whitney.. and from this moment on, you’ll never forget it.”

He dived into Whitney’s neck as Whitney reeled under the ongoing assault. His eyes were wide open, his body slick with sweat, and gasping for breath. Clark’s body was rubbing painfully against some of his wounds but he didn’t care. The pain was only adding to his pleasure and he moaned.

Clark went down, licking his way across Whitney’s long and sexy neck. Down to his lean but well-built shoulders, down to his chest where he caught a nipple between his teeth and Whitney moaned louder.
//It was happening! Oh God!//

Clark nibbled, and tugged and sucked and laved at his nipple until it was swollen and aching and Whitney thought it would like.. pop! He squirmed and tried to say something, but he forgot how to. Clark switched to the other one and did the same to it until Whitney begged him to stop. He was very very hard, and on the verge of bursting.

“Clark… I can't… Clark please…”

Clark moved downwards, and dipped his tongue into his belly button. There was a huge gash just next to it and he was careful not to hurt Whitney, too much.

//I cant risk losing control.//He thought, knowing very well what could happen if he accidentally used too much pressure or force on the boy beneath him.
//God I don’t wanna hurt him!//

His hands came down and caressed the sides as they did. He gripped his waist with both hands and lifted his hips a little to give him more leverage. And then, he went for the prize.
“Ahh... Clar…”

Whitney almost screamed when he felt himself being swallowed whole and it took everything he had not to come then and there. Clark couldn’t help smiling at the reaction and hummed around the pained penis in his mouth. Whitney felt the music surging through his blood and reaching him with the cruelest form of ecstasy. With one hand Clark rolled the smooth balls, tickling them while with the other he gripped the base of his cock, making the squirming boy wait longer. He moved his mouth up and down the shaft, laving it thoroughly before withdrawing completely. Then just when Whitney would start to moan in protest, he would plunge back in and suck in earnest. He experimented with increasing and decreasing pressures using Whitney’s writhing as measuring units, to finally settle on what he now knew was causing the boy maximum frustration.

//Where did you learn to do this Kent?//

Kent had no idea. All he knew was that this felt so good, to pleasure Whitney the way he deserved to, to make him squirm and wriggle and bed and plead, to make him scream his name when he came. Clark was totally hard himself, getting off on the moans from above and the struggling movements beneath him. He ran his tongue on the underside, now and then detouring to nibble at the testicles too. He could do this all night. Whitney on other hand, could not handle this for too long. He tried to push himself upwards into Clark but Clark held him down gripping his hips, controlling the agonizingly slow pace. He was sobbing and he was pleading and he was way gone.

And then Clark let go of the base of the aching cock and squeezed the heavy testicles. Whitney came with a huge scream. Waves and waves of pleasure hitting him from left, right and center and he spasmed uncontrollably. He stuffed a knuckle into his mouth to keep himself from bringing the town running up Clark’s loft. He pulled his eyes shut tight and tears squeezed out at the sides. Clark sucked off everything he had to offer and some more. He didn’t know how or why, he just did what felt to him so right and so wonderful and so mindblowing and knew Whitney was feeling the same way too.

Whitney lay there, feeling boneless, and was panting really hard. He had no idea a blowjob could be this amazing. He didn’t think he could get up for another month. And he was smiling.

Clark licked him clean, kissing his genitals almost reverently, and shifted to lie back on top of Whitney. When he reached up and saw Whitney’s face, he stilled. Whitney’s eyes were closed, his face was wet with tears and sweat, he was panting, his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed again and again, bruises from the night before still painfully evident, and in the midst of it all, a shy smile played on his lips.
//Had he ever seen something so beautiful?//
He doubted it.

Whitney opened his eyes to see Clark staring at him with those melting green eyes so full of such ..lust and.. love. Clark met his gaze and smiled. Whitney felt like the sun came out shining just for him. He glowed with the love he felt reflecting in those eyes. Clark gently kissed away the tears that had leaked out of his blue eyes. He kissed his closed eyes, and then his lips. He cursed Nigel and the bastards who’d marred his Whitney’s beautiful face as he touched the bruises lightly. Whitney sighed at the softness. They lay like that for the longest time, just kissing. Whitney clung to him as if for dear life. Clark slid to his side pulling Whitney along with him so that they were both lying on their sides holding each other. Close.

“Thanks.”
“Shut up.”

Whitney laughed lightly at the admonishment. What's with the Kents anyway? Didn’t like people thanking them or something. He kissed Clark everywhere on his face that he could reach. And then he dipped his head to suck on his pulse point at his throat. Clark sighed with unfulfilled desire. He wondered if…

“Whitney..”
“Yeah”
“Have you ever…?”
“No.”
Words were not necessary between the two any more. Whitney knew what he was being asked. He came up to meet Clark’s intense stare.

“Clark … last night.. I thought I’d imagined it but now I’m sure. I heard you loud and clear…. and.. I love you too..”

This time, Clark’s breath caught in his throat. He was so stunned and he was so happy to hear what he’d been longing to hear for so long now. They cuddled closer, neither willing to let go of the other for eternity. And then they kissed.

“Clark..”
Clark too knew what Whitney was about to say. He only wondered if he was really ready to go through with it. After all, he had been almost raped by a psycho maniac.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.. hey I’m yours aren’t I?”
Clark couldn’t help smiling. Whitney looked hesitant but he wanted this, he could see it in his deep blue eyes.

Clark got up, extricating himself from the embrace reluctantly, while Whitney pouted. He walked over to the dresser. There was a small vaseline jar on top which he now brought to the bed as Whitney looked on. Whitney let his eyes roam all over the strong lithe body, at the full mouth, the perfect abs, the elegant limbs, the proud shaft. He wanted this as much as Clark did .. to feel Clark inside of him, filling him, fucking him.
First time jitters be damned.

Clark reached the bed with the jar and sat down with his legs folded under him at the knees, beside Whitney who now lay with his head propped up on one elbow. He pulled him into his lap so that he was cuddling him like a baby and brought his mouth down on his. Whitney clung to him desperately and lost himself in the deep kiss. Clark let his hands roam over the beautiful body until he reached his ass.

He held one pert cheek in his hand and patted it. Then he rubbed it while they continued to kiss. Just as suddenly, he broke off the kiss and looked at a very flustered Whitney. He gave him a cute smile before turning him over and pressing him down on his lap. Whitney now lay across his legs with much of his upper torso and legs resting on the bed while his ass was on Clark’s lap. Whitney blushed red and tried twice, thrice to say something.

“Shh.. relax jock… its just me.”
Clark adjusted him holding his waist with one arm and with the other, he continued to rub and stimulate his taut buttocks. Whitney soon got over his embarrassment at his awkward position and moaned.

He scratched the cute little furrow that marked the end of the spine and the beginning of his crack and Whitney wiggled at which Clark smacked him playfully.

“Don’t do that!”
“You’re killing me!” Whitney answered with a whine, to which Clark chuckled.

He drew a finger down the crack, exploring Whitney’s ass into a frenzy. Clark had been dying to do this, to get his hands on each and every inch of Whitney and drive him crazy in the process. Like an eager excited child, he wanted to see everything and touch and feel whatever he could get his hands on and he couldn’t get enough. Both could feel each other getting hard and harder. Clark bent down to bite at the luscious pink offering and made growling sounds while he did so, making Whitney laugh and moan and wiggle. The more he wiggled, the more he got smacked.

“Ouch!”
“Told you not to do that Whit-boy.”
“Don’t take no orders from a freshman!”
Clark couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh yeah?”
He brought down his mouth onto his buttock again and drew small circles with his tongue while nipping and growling now and then. Whitney laughed and moaned all at the same time.

With one hand, Clark played with his sac beneath and with the other he fingered the little red opening. He took out a generous dollop of vaseline with two fingers and pulling the cheeks apart, dabbed it onto the hot spot. Whitney felt the cool gel on him and sighed deeply. Clark inserted one finger through the ring and Whitney gasped. He stroked his back lovingly as he waited to see if Whitney was okay. He looked okay. He started moving the finger further in, then drew it back until only the tip was touching the ring. Then he pushed it back into the slick wetness and started a pistoning motion.

Whitney was feeling these new sensations he’d never known existed. With his face pressed into the bed, he moaned and groaned into the sheets.

Soon he was pushing himself up and down to the finger inside him indicating to Clark he was loving it too. A second finger joined the first one, spreading him more and the pistoning grew faster. The fingers withdrew for a moment to get more vaseline and Whitney could have cried with happiness when he felt them reinserted into him. The penetration grew deep with fingers twisting and turning and hitting the prostrate, driving Whitney totally insane.

He bunched up the bed sheets into his fists and also managed to stuff some into his mouth to keep from screaming or crying or both. He pushed himself into the stimulation begging Clark to go faster in total jibberish, but Clark only stroked his back asking him to take it slow… excruciatingly slow.

“Easy Whit.. easy… let go..”

He continued to finger fuck him for awhile as Whitney bucked against him. And when Whitney was sobbing openly, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer either.

He shifted Whitney so that he now lay on the bed face down and moved between his legs again. He pulled the legs apart from behind and then the cheeks and positioned himself between them. He gripped the hips and raised them to give him greater access.

Whitney was pleading, “Hurry up Clark… please…”
Clark couldn’t agree more. He just hoped he didn’t hurt Whitney in the process.
“Tell me if it hurts okay?”

He pushed himself into the worked up opening, at first gently and then when he was in, he waited. Whitney felt like he was on fire inside, and he was panting so hard. Clark once again worried if he’d used too much strength on the boy, hurting him.

“You okay?”
Whitney turned his face to one side so he knew Clark could see him when he smiled and nodded. He was way okay.
//A little pain never killed anybody//

And then Clark pushed further into him, stretching him painfully as he made his way in, filling him completely. At last he was totally in and his balls rested on the boy’s buttocks. Whitney felt full and finally complete with Clark throbbing inside of him. His existence did not seem so empty anymore. And Clark felt like he was home.

Soon Clark was moving. If earlier had been great, this was sheer heaven. Clark held onto his hips as he slid back out completely, only to slam back inside again. Whitney was making these whining noises and bucking against him. He arched up to meet Clark’s movements and soon the two hot bodies were rocking in perfect harmony, pleasuring each other. Whitney clenched and unclenched around Clark, milking him while Clark drove into him at angles that hit his prostate over and over again, creating a pleasure filled frenzy he couldn’t shake off.

Whitney was back to whining and pleading incoherently. He could not believe how sex could drive men to such incredible heights of insanity. Yep, Whitney could not for the life of him figure why he hadn't done this before, why he'd waited so long to express his true sexuality. This... with Clark... was already the most amazing experience of his life.

Clark stretched out and pressed his entire length over Whitney’s. He raised Whitney slightly from the bed, not like he needed too much effort in doing so, and held him almost suspended in air. A hand went round to grip his weeping cock. Whitney howled. Clark bit into the pale neck and sucked as he serviced Whitney’s cock with his skillful hand. Whitney could feel Clark all over him, on his neck, on his cock, inside his ass. He was surrounded by all these maddening sensations he couldn’t escape and the heat .. the intense heat threatened to burn up everything inside of him and out. Waves crashed over and over, winds gushed and howled and his entire world was thrown in turmoil.

And then Clark relinquished all control and gave in to his body’s aching needs. He slammed in one last time into Whitney and shot loads and loads of pleasure into the hungry hole. He came with a scream, gripping the love of his life with so much might, Whitney almost suffocated. Not that Whitney would have known the difference anyways.

And the storm passed.
Leaving two very very exhausted boys in its wake, collapsed onto each other. After an eternity, Clark came out of Whitney while the latter quietly wept at the loss. Clark gently turned Whitney around and gathered him into his strong arms before rolling onto his back, pulling Whitney on top of him. Whitney curled up into the broad expanse of love and protection and slept.

Clark pressed his lips onto the top of the blonde head, and drifted off.
“I love you.”


Next Chapter >>

JM: Young tilted head closeup
cyndrarae

Smallville: Penance (17/?) (Clark/Whitney)



<< Previous Chapter

Chapter 17


Sunday 1310hrs

Clark finally managed to drag himself out of bed when he heard Martha calling out for him. He pulled on his clothes faster than a speeding bullet and rushed out before Martha decided to come up to the loft herself.

Clark had created a very comfy abode for himself in the loft. And being the teenager that he was, it was still his Fortress of Solitude wherein very few people were allowed without his permission. Trespassers were severely prosecuted. All the more reason now to guard it with all his alien strength, now that Whitney was there.

//Whitney was there!//
Clark half skipped half flew towards his mom’s kitchen.

“What is it mom?”
Martha looked at Clark and hesitated. She didn’t know how to put this..
“Clark.. your father heard the noises coming from your loft a while ago.”

Damn.

“N-Noises?”
Martha sighed. “Clark, I know about you two and I accept it. I.. I am not sure I approve completely but I will support whatever you decide, whatever you think will make you happy. But… Jonathan.. well.. he…”
Clark’s face darkened. He knew what was coming.
Martha didn’t like doing this to her son. She shook her head and tried again.
“Well, lets just say your father is having a little trouble coming to terms with your.. relationship with Whitney.”
Clark was angry now.
“But why? I didn’t think he was homophobic!”

“I am not.”
Jonathan just then walked into the kitchen. The disapproval obvious on his face. The father and son stared each other down for a while, then Jonathan heaved a sigh and looked down. Tentatively he began,

“Clark.. I have to admit it’s a shock. Not unlike any parent faced with the same situation I’m sure..”
“Mom didn’t freak out Dad.”
“Your mother is an extraordinary woman. I am not.”
“Yeah well I never thought of you as an extraordinary woman either dad but at least you could be supportive of me and what I want.”

Jonathan scowled at his wry sense of humor while Martha couldn’t suppress a giggle. He stared her to silence while Clark continued.

“And why should this come as a shock to you after all the other extra-ordinary things you know about your son? Is being in love with another man wierder than x-ray vision? Or super-speed ? or.. hey.. let's say.. ALIEN SPACESHIP CRASHING TO EARTH!!”

“Stop it Clark.”
Martha was upset at the way he was speaking to his dad. Clark immediately regretted it. But Jonathan kept quiet. For a really long time. If there was one thing that caused Clark Kent jitters, it was when his dad got really really silent. Then he knew he’d really pissed him off. He sulked quietly, looked down at his feet, then back at up at his dad, then left then right, and back to his feet.

Jonathan sighed and rolled his eyes. With all his powers and going by what all he’d achieved in such a short time, Jonathan would sometimes forget that his son was after all, still just a kid.

“Clark I am NOT homophobic! This is NOT what this is about!”
“But you just said..”
“You didn’t let me complete!”
“Fine, complete.”
Clark folded his arms and looked intently at his dad.

//What could he possibly say? That its not safe? I haven’t been sick a day in my life. That it wasn’t normal? What the heck is not normal about me anyway? That being gay in this small town is scandalous and that I should try to blend in with the average people, try and be as inconspicuous as possible? Bullshit. Just to escape attention, I wouldn’t give up the one thing in life that’s made me the happiest I have been all my life! //
He waited for Jonathan to say something.

Jonathan stared back and began.
“As I was saying, yes, it does come as a shock to me. But I didn’t say that I disapprove…” Clark was taken aback. “and definitely not because of the relationship being homosexual.”
“I am only concerned about what your motivations are for this relationship Clark. Is it a one-off thing? Or do you have feelings for this boy?”
Clark wasn’t sure where this was going, so he kept quiet.

“I mean.. Clark you know how it is with you… you.. tend to develop a soft spot for people in distress. You like to take care of people and … you can be quite ..overbearing if you know what I’m saying.. its possible what you felt for Whitney was just friendship or maybe even a casual attraction towards an attractive person ..but now what is it..?”

It was a question. But Clark was too shocked to answer. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. His dad was totally mocking his feelings for Whitney! And he was expected to explain why or how or what he was feeling for the love of his life?

“And Whitney? What are his reasons?”
That hit home. Real hard.

“Clark, please don’t get me wrong. I am not doubting the sincerity of your feelings for Whitney. I just want you to ask yourself, if this is the real thing. If its for the right reasons. From what I heard and understood, Whitney is in a volatile state of mind right now. I hope whatever it is between the two of you, its … its not taking advantage of either of you… that’s all.”

Clark looked like he would just burst into tears. He was angry and hurt and totally stunned by what he’d just heard. He looked at Martha and she looked down. Did she think he was overbearing too? That he took advantage of Whitney in his current condition? And then he asked himself.. did he?

He turned around to walk out, slowly, lost in deep thought.
“Wait son.”
Clark stopped. Jonathan approached him from behind and placed his hands on his shoulders.
“Clark please don’t be angry. We just want you to be sure, that’s all! Just be sure. Before you do anything.”

Clark didn’t reply, he just stared away at nothing and resumed walking out and towards the loft. He looked up, scanning his favorite fortress, seeking out the bed and expecting to see his obsession, stretched out in human form.

He found an empty bed.

“No.”
Clark panicked. He rushed towards the loft.
//Not again Whit-boy!//
He reached the top of the stairs and burst in. The bed was empty. But then he heard the shower. He let out a huge sigh of relief. Really Really huge. He blew off his CD player off its rack, and had to super-speed in order to catch it before it crashed to the floor.

“Ooofff” He rolled his eyes as he placed it back in its place and gingerly made it to his bathroom. The door was open. He went in, quietly.

Whitney was standing under the shower. His forehead rested against the wall before him, as also his hands placed flat on the sides of his head. The water washed away the last vestiges of soap on him as it made its way down his lean, elegant body. Clark licked his lips and stared. His dad’s hurtful interpretation of his love for Whitney playing in his mind, over and over. But he truly wondered if Whitney came to him out of something … other than love. If he had the reaction of someone who was victimized and starts to idolize and cling to, perhaps even love… his savior. Or was it gratitude?

Whitney raised his head and turned around then. He saw Clark standing there admiring him, and he smiled shyly.

He had woken up a while ago. He had panicked for a moment too, at not finding Clark beside him. Only to realize the silliness of the thought and brushed it away. He got up and headed for the bathroom. He was less sorer than the last time he was here, and decided to take that shower after all.

But while in the shower, all he could thing about was what they had done before. About ..Clark, his hands, his mouth, his limpid green eyes with which he looked at him like he were the most precious person in the whole world. The thought itself made Whitney feel so.. happy and content. He didn’t remember feeling that way in quite a while. He didn’t think he was even capable of handling so much joy.

The problem with Whitney Fordman? He worries too much. And specially since dad died, Whitney has always been quite wary of the littlest of happiness.

One moment the doctors had given him a clean bill of health and dad came home. They threw a bloody party even. And two days later, the world came crashing down around his feet. Similar things had happened with his football scholarship, with Lana. And recently, one moment he was the golden boy, returning to his home town and feeling pretty damn good about himself… and .. this happens.

But why does he complain now? Behind every cloud there’s a… something silver right? He had found Clark … and he couldn't have asked for anything more. He figured if Clark was in love with him, then he must have forgiven him too no? So that was good right?

See that’s just it. Things were way too good right now. Something was bound to go wrong. The police.. they were after him. Well even if they find out he and Clark were involved, Whitney didn’t think he or Clark could be prosecuted for what happened. But it sure would cause a lot of trouble for them both. It might also bring out what had transpired back with Wade. Whitney didn’t want it to be known publicly what they did to him. His mother would be crushed and cry and cry and not let him leave ever again. Could it cause trouble for him at the academy?
He didn’t wanna know.

And what about Clark? He couldn’t risk getting him into any trouble just because he came to his rescue. Whitney sighed deeply. And now, for the million dollar questions… One: How did Clark come to know about him being.. killed at Reiley field? And Two: How the HELL did he manage to rip off the guy’s whole fucking arm?

These were questions he’d just have to ask Clark.

“Clark”
He called out brightly. His voice brought Clark out of his reverie and he smiled back. He walked towards him and took him in his arms, all wet and dripping and kissed him. Whitney grinned into the kiss, obviously the boy didn’t care about getting his clothes wet.

“I had a dream about you.”
“Tell me.”
Clark let his lips free and nibbled his wet ear instead, rubbing the bare shoulder blades.
“Do you remember the football game you played? Your only one..”
His voice brimming with mischief. Clark knew how to play along too. He rolled his eyes upwards and frowned.
“Hmmm lets see..” Only to be rewarded with a punch in his gut.
“Ow.. yeah I remember .. how can I forget?”
He laughed at the not-so-distant memory. “The game that I won for the Crows, by the way..”
“Beginner’s luck freshman”
Clark scowled at him and dove in to nip playfully at his nose. Whitney laughed and let him.

“So what was this dream about?”
“Oh not much.. just.. you and me.. after the game, the game that you won for the Crows by the way.. everyone gathered around you to congratulate you .. guys hugging you and girls kissing you.. everyone cheering you on..”
“Mmmm yeah…”
Clark was sucking at his neck now, making him sigh.
Whitney pulled him backwards so that both were now standing under the running water and continued.
“You were the hero. All that adulation, all those people, teammates, cheerleaders, but you didn’t have eyes for any one… except one… me”
Clark was loving where this was going. He pressed his nose into the beautiful neck and took a deep deep whiff. Whitney smelt good. Of raindrops on roses. Red roses.

“It was raining you know… and then, right there in the middle of the stadium, in front of everyone… you came to me, your hair dripping in the rain, your uniform clinging to you in all the right places .. and .. I just stood there .. staring at you. And then ….”
“Then?”
“Then.. you were holding me .. and you took off my helmet…”
“Don’t stop…”
“That’s it.”
Clark raise his head to look at Whitney. “That’s it?”

Whitney shrugged oh-so-apologetically, a teasing smile on his lips. “I woke up then.”
“Talk about bad timing man”
And Whitney laughed. Clark dove back into his mouth before he could come up with a retort. They kissed.
Clark moved his hand down from Whitney’s back down to his butt. And he happened to rub exactly where Nigel had stabbed him. Whitney flinched.
“Woah.. I’m sorry.”
Clark looked at him concerned. Whitney quickly recovered.
“No.. its nothing. I guess.. I am coming out of the constant pain mode.. took me by surprise that’s all”
And he chuckled, leaning back in to resume the kiss. But Clark had already been reminded of his conversation with his father. He decided now was as good a time as any to bring it up.

“Whitney..”
“Yeah”
“We need to talk.”

Whitney looked up into the green eyes. “Yeah I guess we do.”
He held on to Clark and lowered his lips to kiss his shoulder. He looked back up into those eyes but they still looked concerned and … far away. Clark smiled though.

“You done?”
“Yeah.”
He turned off the water and grabbed the towel from its hanger. He brought it around Whitney and gently rubbed his hair with it. Whitney could see something was the matter and his previous fears returned.

//See? I told you something had to go wrong!//
//Did I go too far with the stupid dream? Was it too mushy or somethin'?//

Whitney’s mind was plagued with apprehensions but he said nothing. Clark’s touch was still soft and loving, so he leaned into it. He grabbed the front of Clark’s shirt with both hands and then rested his head on the invitingly broad chest while Clark gently rubbed him dry. When he was done, Clark stepped back and wrapped the towel around Whitney’s waist, rested his hands there and looked anxiously at the boy. Whitney exhaled nervously too, raised his eyebrows in kind of a shrug and stepped out of the bath. He crossed his arms about him as he followed Clark out the bathroom.
Back in the room, he looked around once.

“Maybe I should get my stuff up here. I need clothes.”
“Take mine.” Clark said, automatically.
Whitney looked at him. “I need underwear.”
“Take mine.” Clark said, automatically.

Whitney smiled shyly and turned to Clark’s wardrobe. He took out what he needed, including a pair of jeans and a black shirt and dressed, feeling the other boy’s eyes on him all the time.

“You know a year ago, there was no way in hell you could get into those jeans.”
Whitney looked at Clark. “Well ..yeah.. we weren’t exactly best friends .. let alone…”
“No I mean, you really Really couldn’t have gotten into my pair of jeans.. you know with all that baby fat you sported back then.”
Clark was smiling so naughtily it was endearing. But Whit was too scandalized to see that right now.
“Wha.. the…? BABY FAT? Wherever do you pick up corny stuff like that from?”
Clark was laughing away. He paused to say one word… “Chhullloe” and started laughing again.
Whitney couldn’t resist either. “Funny Kent. I wasn’t ‘Fat’. You were scrawny. And you still are, going by these stupid pants..!”
“Tight around the butt huh?”
Clark was teasing again. Whitney remembered that morning, the lavish attention showered on his behind by his lover... and blushed.
“I like it like that... *just* like that.”
Clark’s voice full of sinful promises, his eyes dark with desire.

“I .. I really should get back home you know…”
Whitney said, almost recovering, smiling, sitting down to put on the runner shoes from before.
Clark walked up to his closet and took out a white and blue flannel to replace his wet shirt. He was now busy pulling it on.
“Yeah you should. I’m sure your mom is worried. I just .. thought maybe we could.. you know.. talk before you go.”
“Yeah that’s a good idea.”
“Yeah? You… you wanna talk about something?”
“Well.. its not too important. But.. you look like you have something important to say so why don’t you go first.”
Clark licked at his lips. This was going to be difficult.

“Whitney.. I .. I want you to know.. that.. I guess I just wanna ..”
//Damn!//
“Whats wrong?”
“No nothing’s *wrong*..”
The stress of the word ‘wrong’ was significantly long and sarcastic. Clark got up to pace. And Whitney started to freak.
“Listen you obviously have something on your mind so why don’t you just say it?”

Clark stopped pacing. He placed his hands on his waist and stood looking at Whitney intently.
“I just had this conversation with my dad.”
Whitney understood now. Or so he thought. “And he doesn’t approve..”
“No no its not that… its not about our being together, actually it is, but their concerns are not about the... you know.. the gay thing.”
“Clark you’re blabbering. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Clark sighed.
“They think that you and me.. that this thing we have.. its… its unreal. That you are in a volatile state of mind, you were traumatized and might not be thinking straight. And that… that I might have taken advantage of you when you were… so.. vulnerable.”
Whitney was confused. Clark bit his lips then continued.

“Whit.. ok forget what they think. But I wanna be sure that.. I didn’t force you into anything did I? I mean… yeah.. sure I was… a little domineering ..”
“A little?” Whitney chuckled.
Clark looked up at him but he was smiling quite pleasantly. Okay, so he smiled too.
“Well.. you know..” And he shrugged and grinned brightly, obviously he was happy that way. But back to the point…
“Ahem, what I mean is, maybe you need to do a little introspection, as to why .. why you’re here.. with me.. were you really …attracted to me?”
There really wasn’t an easy way to say this.
“... and if the answer is yes... then.. was it just because.. you know.. because I was there and I got you out? Or does it run deeper than that?”

Whitney was not smiling anymore.

“I mean.. Whitney if this was gratitude…”
“What??”
Whitney stood up, incredulous. “Gratitude?”
//Great going Kent. Bravo.//
Clark tried to retract but Whitney stopped him.

“Clark, to express gratitude you say thanks. You don’t let yourself be fucked out of your goddamn mind!”
“Whitney calm down.”
“Calm down? You stand there telling me that I wasn’t thinking straight when I… I practically *pledged* my love to you, and you want me to calm down? That I was returning the favor for saving my life… that I was whoring myself?? Is that what you’re saying Kent?”
“Jesus! no Whit..” Clark went to hold him but Whitney stepped back.

“I’m sorry okay, I was just… I just wanted to be sure, I don’t wanna see you hurt.”
“I *was* hurt. A lot. I nearly died. And while I was there hanging on the cross that night, wishing for death to come and take me soon as possible…”
“Whit please…”
“… you know what I was doing? All I could think of .. was you. I was thinking how badly I’d treated you and that this was my punishment, my penance for what I did to you. And I prayed to the God I don’t believe in, to save me. And that if he would give me just this one chance, the first thing I would do is… come and see you Clark. You.”

Clark was quiet. Whitney was in tears.

“I’m sorry. I’m REALLY sorry for EVERYTHING. And THIS is an apology.” Clark just stared, his own eyes brimming with tears.
“I’m also very VERY grateful to you for saving me from an undignified death. Thank You. And this… Clark.. THIS is gratitude.”
Clark closed his eyes. He was confused, his worst fears might have just been rendered true. So Whitney had felt guilty and grateful. Guilt and gratitude. What about love? Was it not love? He crossed his arms and just stood. Biting back whatever it was that was clawing at his throat, choking him.

“But..” Whitney spoke up again… Now what’s he saying…
“I’m also… I’m also … in love with you Clark Kent.”
Clark stilled.

“I .. I have been in love with you ever since the day I laid eyes on you. The day you walked into the school, nervous and uncomfortable, and yet with this quiet strength about you.. that.. sense of enigma?… I knew from day one that you would become my… my undoing. That you had it in you to destroy the life I had built for myself – my fame, my status, my girlfriend! And so, I replaced my instant attraction to you… with instant hatred. I did that Clark ... I hated you … because I loved you.”
Whitney was sobbing now. Clark opened his eyes.

“And then guess what? You looked right through me, only to develop a crush on my girlfriend? Lana?”
Whitney somehow found that very very amusing and he began to chuckle. Clark looked away.

“Don’t get me wrong man, I loved Lana too. With all my heart and soul. And I know that you loved her too. Its just one of those things you carry inside yourself forever and you might think its gone, but it never does. Just... takes a different form.”

Clark was biting his lips and nodding slightly in agreement.
“But at that time.. it was simply too much to bear. The two people that I wanted the most, that I loved the most, they loved each other and not me!?!”
And Whitney laughed again.
Manically.
“It was too much man. Funny yeah.. like.. Quentin Tarantino funny.. but too much. So I was nasty. To you. You helped me so many times, it was plain hilarious, the more I tried to run from you, tried to be indifferent, the more you were around … helping me and Lana, saving my ass, covering for me. And I wondered, was that like a conscious effort on your part to make me indebted to you?”

He laughed again. Even Clark managed to smile sadly.
“Well I … I decided I wont fall for your cheap tricks.. no way.. and I refused to acknowledge you or your help at all! Perfunctorily yeah.. but.. you know..” He shrugged again and sneered at the memories. He wiped away at a tear fallen to his cheek.

“When .. when dad died, and I decided to follow in his footsteps and join the marines.. I thought about what I was gonna miss the most in Smallville. Clark do you know what denial is? I doubt it you’re always so… so true and sincere…”
Clark had to laugh at that. Yeah right.

“I.. I tried to deny it but I couldn’t.. you were what I missed the most about this town Kent. You are the one who made my life miserable and yet who do I remember most? You. I missed riding you”, he chuckled, “I missed talking to you, I missed being with you..”
Clark clasped himself harder. He wanted to pull Whitney into his arms and shut him up. Just shut him up!

“To this day, I have not been able to forgive myself. Clark…”
Clark looked up at him.
……
“My Guilt Is Because Of My Love, For You.”
……
“My Gratitude Is Because Of My Love, For You.”
……
“I Love You. Clark Kent.”
……

“You done?”
……
“Yeah.”

Clark went to Whitney and took him in his arms. “I love you too asshole.”

Whitney cried out with happiness. He held on tightly to the body in his arms, and buried his face into the shoulder. Clark had to laugh with so much happiness even as he wiped off his own tears, and rubbed Whitney’s back to soothe him.

“How does it feel to get finally everything out of your system?”
“Ugh… Excellent.”

They kissed. They held each other and rocked each other for an eternity. And Clark silently thanked his dad. He was sure now. He was way sure.


Next Chapter >>

JM: Young tilted head closeup
cyndrarae

Smallville: Penance (18/?) (Clark/Whitney)



<< Previous Chapter

Chapter 18

Sunday 1346 hrs

So there you have it. Whitney Fordman is in love. With moi! I can’t tell you how absolutely unashamedly proud I am of myself right now. Not to mention how completely and hopelessly in love too. Clark Kent… you’ve been done in.

One minute I was trembling to think I might have taken advantage of him in his weakest moments, and in the very next one, there he was, clinging to me.. his arms clutched tight around my body, his face buried into my shoulder, biting back child-like sobs. I am rocking him, kissing him, stroking his soft hair.. asking him to forgive me for ever doubting his feelings, telling him over and over..
“I love you too Whit.. I love you.”
But mostly I’m just crying myself. With relief, with happiness, with dread.
He has to leave soon. Maybe not now, on account of the investigation and all but soon, he would grab his knapsack and go back to playing soldier. And I would still be here, miles away, in small town Smallville. The thought of having to let him go just makes me gather him tighter into my arms.
Wont let you go! Wont let you go!

I wonder if this is why Whit has been panting and gasping so much .. because I’m always bloody squeezing the life out of him?

Idiot. I relax a little and walk him to the bed, sit him down beside me, pulling his legs onto my lap to get closer. Not close enough damnit.
He finally unburies his face from my shoulder and turns it up in offering. I kiss him like I did the first time, like there might be no other time. His tongue fights back in earnest, sucking at my lips, my tongue, licking the walls of my mouth as far as he would go.
Its amazing how the littlest of movements he makes in my mouth and in my arms send pleasure-filled jolts up and down my spine, only to gather at the groin. And then I turn my attention to his.
I undo the last two buttons on his black shirt… mine actually.. but damn thing never looked this good on me now did it? I stroke the growing mound between his legs over the denim for awhile. He shifts, making me gasp into the kiss, spreads his legs on my lap to allow better access and digs his nails into my back where he is clasping me. I slide down the zipper and go in, only to tear off the front of his boxers, my boxers, and grip him. He jerks up in surprise and chuckles but continues to suck at my tongue, delightfully whimpering into my mouth. Chloe says I have big hands, and long fingers. Well right now, I can’t seem to grab enough of Whit’s beautiful shaft and the silken balls. The feel of Whitney, so warm and perfect to touch.. its like nothing I’ve known all my paranormal life. I finger the slit trying to get in as Whit starts to fidget.

“Clark hurry..”
“All in good time babe, all in good time”
I start pumping him, up and down, up and down I go on his shaft while returning to the tip to squeeze out drops of his nectar onto my index finger. I bring the finger up and parting slightly from the bruised lips, insert it into his mouth. He sucks at it so hungrily and when its all gone, he captures my mouth again with his. He grips my wrist and brings it down back on his cock.
Oh yeah.
I go back to tugging and pulling and tugging until he is breathless and squirming like crazy. I’m not sure how or why but it seems like he is waiting for me to tell him if he can ..come? I smile into the still hungry kiss and squeeze his heavy sac. He lets go with a loud gasp.
“…Clark…”
His entire body is wrecked by uncontrollable shudders I can feel seeping from him into me. I hold on to him while he moans and spasms into my hand and onto my torn boxers and my jeans and my jeans that I’m wearing, and he’s gasping for cursed breath and seeking to bury his face into my neck permanently. I kiss his head, once again positioned right in front of my lips as he comes.
Finally it passes, and all is silent, except his ragged breathing. His spent organ continues to throb in my grip. He looks at my hand dripping with his semen, then looks up at me, smiling so shyly, with this.. I don’t know.. confused.. longing… sure-not-sure expression on his face.
God that’s endearing, he’s asking for my permission again! I bring up my hand to his lips and he is holding it with his own before a pink tongue shakily peeks out to take a lick.

Oh. My. God.
Never thought it would be so erotic to have Whitboy licking cum off my hands.. doesn’t matter whose. He licks and licks and when its all gone, he turns towards me. I must have been gaping at him with an open mouth because he’s grinning away, well aware of the effect he’s had on me and damn proud of it too. And then he kisses me full on my lips, reminding me of his taste from the night before. Salty but sweet. Like.. not so ripe apples? My Whitney… apples and roses... green apples and red roses…
“I love you.”
I say that aloud. He meets my gaze wide eyed.
“I love you too” and dives right into my mouth again.

“Uhh Whitney?”
“Yeah?”
“You hungry?”
“Starving. How can you tell?”
Had to laugh at that. After that performance? Jeez. But fact is, he hasn’t eaten ever since he got up that morning.
Reluctantly, I dump his legs on the creaking bed and get up to change into another pair of jeans.
“Lets go down and grab something”
Whit hesitates. “What about your.. ?”
“Oh they’re fine. My dad wanted me to be sure, I am sure. He shouldn’t have any more problems”
“Okay but.. you think it’s a good idea? W-What about your mom?”
“Oh she’s wayyy okay. Don’t worry about her.”
Whitney isn’t convinced. He gets up and walks toward the wardrobe. Weakly, I notice. Better get some food into the boy before he faints on me.
“Clark I cant believe your folks are so cool about this. Don’t you think it’s a little weird? Only son who they just discovered is gay.. brings home some beat-up loser guy, makes out right in the family house and they are okay with it?!?”
“Lets just say they are really really used to their son’s weirdness. And who’re you calling loser loser?”
I pretend to whack away at him and he ducks. And the smile is back…. does anyone else hear those beautiful bells ringing?
He takes out another pair of boxers and jeans and puts them on. I’m soon gonna run out of clothes like this.
“Didn’t they ask how I got so.. damaged?”
Damage? What damage? Whit standing there in nothing but a short black shirt that in no way covers any of his assets.. nope … I see no damage!
Ahem, get serious Kent. The kid is really worried.

“I think with the news all over the TV and the police coming to talk to you, they figured it out by themselves. My mom she patched you up the first time I brought you and didn’t ask one question.”
He is surprised. “Your mom?”
“Yeah”
“Yikes”
“No yikes. There’s no yikes needed here.”
“ok then SHIT.”
I go to him. Whit’s jittery about facing my folks, so fine he wouldn’t have to. When I reach him he’d already pulled up the boxers (damn) and is struggling with the jeans, which once again is a little tight on his glorious frame.
I take the catches of his new jeans from his slightly shaking hands and close them myself. He lets me zip him up and adjust the shirt on his shoulders while he stands with his hands on his waist, feet set apart, staring at me doubtfully.
"What, too tight?"
I pat his bottom twice in quick succession where the denim clings the snuggest. (Is that even a word?) But he doesn't find it funny and continues to frown at me.

“Relax jock.”
“You keep saying that”
“Because you keep freaking out on me! My folks are really cool believe me. But hey if you’re not ready you’re not ready. Lets go for lunch at the Talon. We should speak to Lana and give her a heads up.”
Okay Whitney is *really* freaking out now. About having to tell Lana about that night. He isn’t sure he wants to. He rubs the back of his neck with his left hand.
“We.. we’ll have to make up some story for her.”
……
“I think by now she must have a good idea what happened too Whit”.
I say that very softly. He has this look of controlled helplessness on his face I can’t bear. I reach out for him and with one hand press his face into my shoulder again, rubbing his neck for him.

“Too many people know Clark.”
“People you can trust believe me”
“Its not just me Clark.. it’s the both of us now..”
“Same diff”
“What if my mom gets to know?”
“Why are you so afraid of letting her know Whit? Its not like any of it was your fault”
He looks up at me, stepping back a little.
“Yeah but you don’t know her. She’s a delicate woman, she panics very easily and already she hates my being in a life-threatening occupation. Let's just say I’m the only family she’s left with and she doesn’t wanna lose me.”

I guess he is right. Betty Fordman is a sweet lady who hails from a very protected background. After the sickness and subsequent death of her husband, she suddenly had to shed the housewife image and come out to face the music for herself and her only son. Anyways you don’t need a bloody excuse to worry about someone you love.

And then there is the police.

You think I haven’t thought about what happens if he does go and spill the whole story out to the authorities? I have. You think I don’t care if my freak status is exposed to the world in the process? Well I do. But right now, I care more for this boy and his sanity. But you know what.. something tells me… Whitney himself doesn’t know the whole story yet.. he doesn’t remember.. yet.


Next Chapter >>

JM: Young tilted head closeup
cyndrarae

Smallville: Penance (19/?) (Clark/Whitney)



<< Previous Chapter

Chapter 19


“Are you sure you don’t wanna tell the police everything? I don’t think we’d be prosecuted, it was self-defense. You .. we .. were the.. assaulted ones here. Plus we didn’t kill him, he killed himself.”
Whit trembles ever so slightly. Face a rigid mask of utter and disturbing serenity. Must be something they teach at the Corp. To hide your fear. But I can see it. This – from a guy who only minutes ago was sobbing like a child after having confessed his love for ..ahem.. Me.

“No. We stick to our story. But we need a plan.”
“For what?”
“For taking care that none of those bastards talk. For making sure Mark Webber doesn’t tell what really our fight was about and that he doesn’t press charges.”
“Someone saw your truck speeding towards Reiley field that night”
“Yeah I remember, those headlights…”
Whitney is losing himself to a painful memory. Its breaking my heart.
“Whit? Do you.. do you wanna talk about what happened out there?”
“Not really. No.”
Ohkay.
“Besides I don’t know what happened exactly either. I have these gaps in my memory.. I was drunk and .. I don’t know .. I think I lost it sometime that night.”
I don’t know how to do this.. but I have to.
“Whit when I found you… you .. you were screaming your own name..”
Whit is deathly quiet.
“Do.. do you remember?”
“No.”
Okay again.
“That guy.. Nigel.. you bit his tongue out remember?”
That brings a manic scowl to his lips. “Yeah.. The bastard he… he tried to..”
“Nigel make you scream like that?”
He stays quiet but starts to pace. “Whitney?”
“I don’t know damnit!”
Did he really not know? Did he not remember? Uhh.. how much .. did he not remember?

“Whit if you talk about it maybe it will…”
“Stop it Clark. I don’t wanna talk about it right now okay?”
“Okay. Okay”
Whitney is in a silent panic. I didn’t want this. I go to him but he pulls back. Pacing is the foremost thing on his agenda right now.
“I’m sorry Whitney.”
That ends the pacing and begins the charging. Towards me.
“You’re sorry? Why are you sorry Clark?”
He says, his face contorted in anger.
“I don’t need your pity.”
I can charge too.
“This is not pity you dumbass. Just like you were not about gratitude.”
Okay, finally I get through. Whitney calms slightly.
“I know. I know.”
He comes to me willingly and this time he stays. Shivering, angry, scared. But he stays. I bring my arms around him and stroke his sides.


“Clark..?”
“Yeah”
“What were you doing there?”

Did he notice when I stilled? Did he notice my fake face coming on? The face I wear for the world, to hide my true self from people I don’t know, people I don’t trust? Do I not trust Whitney?

Please don’t hate me Whitney. I love you. I lie to you. But I do so to protect you. Protect you from what? I don’t know, but I have to. Please don’t hate me. I couldn’t bear it. Besides, I’m sure I hate myself enough for the both of us.

“I.. I was.. out for a stroll. I.. do that a lot.”
Whit looks at me the way a nineteen year old looks at a Santa trying to get him to sit on his lap and offer him candy.
“Clark that’s a real bad one.”
I feel like someone is choking me and I can’t speak.
“What are you hiding Clark?”

“How.. How long did you stay at the Zinc watching me?”
That’s it.
“Uhh… I.. didn’t know you.. noticed?”
He smiles very slightly. And sadly. “I noticed.”
I turn away from him. Couldn’t lie to him to his face now could I?
“I.. stayed as long as I could, but then.. Chloe..”
Oh God. The choking’s back. Chloe..
Chloe. Chloe. Chloe.

“Chloe what?”
“Ch-Chloe she.. she had to go back home so I.. dropped her. And then.. I came back to the Zinc..”
“Why?”
I can hear the slightly amused tone in his voice. Oh Whitney…
“I guess.. the.. the guys you were hanging with had developed a dubious reputation after you left Whit. And when I saw you with them, I worried a little. So I came back ..”
I turn around.
“But you guys had left already. I got to know from someone that you’d stocked up on a lot of booze before you left and you’d taken your truck. I really got worried then, but there was no way for me to know which way you’d gone. So… I came back home.”
He is staring at me. Liar Liar.
“But… but I couldn’t sleep all night Whit..”
“I tossed and turned and.. finally around 3 am, I just had to get up and check you out for myself!”
He smiles sadly. “Clark..” his voice hardly a whisper.
“I went to your place, didn’t see the truck there. So I went out to .. to Hector’s hangout and nobody was there either. Then, I.. I..”
That’s great Kent… go on… you helluva master storyteller. You Sidney Sheldon you.


“I felt this fear creeping up in me Whitney.. I didn’t know what to do.. so I went out for a stroll… if you remember I had come running to the field. I was somewhere near when.. when suddenly I heard these awful screams.”
Whit lets out a sad sigh. And now, I don’t know what gets into me… this is when I decide to switch to the truth.
“What I heard was.. someone in Reiley field calling out to a.. Whitney in such agony and… I.. at first I thought maybe he was calling out to you to… to.. let him go. That maybe you.. you had scarecrow-ed him and he was screaming to … you know..”
He looks away. Hurt. My turn to panic.

“Whit what was I to think? I was so … I don’t know.. I was just concerned about what you might have done this time and then when I saw you up there.. on the stake.. it was like the world came crashing down on me. I just lost it baby.. I was so … mad with rage and.. and pain! I felt physically pained.. and so angry and.. so.. in complete rage and …. just so…”
“Angry?”
……
Silence can be so deafening. Who said that again?


“More at myself maybe… for having doubted you Whit.”
I can see how much my misjudgment has hurt him. He is fighting back tears. So am I. Then he suddenly jerks his head as if to shake it all off and says..
“Hey I understand .. anyone would have assumed something like that. Specially you.”
“Whitney…”
“After what I did to you ..”
“Whitney…”
He looks up at me, his face riddled with the pain I’d caused with my choice of the truth.
“I’m surprised we’re even standing here together like this.. talking. Cordially! I’m surprised you.. you..”
“Whit stop it. I never held anything against you and you know that.”
“Why not?”
“What?”
“I’d been expecting you to jump me all of that year. Some kind of payback but no. I drove myself fucking crazy with it! Why the hell didn’t you?”
“Shut up Whit you’re giving me a headache.”
“Oh wait no. Clark Kent does everything the sophisticated way – the suave way right? Lana right?”


Now what the fuck is he saying. “Now what the fuck are you saying?”
“Was Lana your way of getting back at me?”

Okay there’s only so long I can control my tear glands. They function quite humanly thank you.
……
“You really expect an answer for that?”
……
He sees the moisture, and his voice becomes really soft and he lowers his head.
“I know Clark – you didn’t need revenge. You were not the jerk, the animal that I was. No doubt you thought I was up to .. my old ways again.”
……
“You weren’t an animal.”
……
“Jerk yes…”
A short burst of laughter there. And along escapes a sob. And he is still keeping his distance. I don’t know what to say, so I use the corniest, most abused line in the world.
“I’m sorry.”
……
“Me too.”
……

A moment ago I didn’t know what to say, now I can’t stop the words from flowing.
“I’m sorry I doubted you Whit. I really didn’t know you had changed so much. You.. you’re all.. grown up now”
I add a chuckle. He does too.
“You were always the mature one Clark. Still are. Look at me I just.. keep .. freaking out on you.”
“I can take it.”
“Yeah?”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
……

We stare at each other in silence for a while. And then he lets out a huge sigh.
“This sucks.”
He pouts miserably. He looks so cute pouting.
“Totally.”
…….


I, in my super-wisdom assume maybe this is the last we’ll ever have to talk about the damn night. Too much pain there.
“Clark..?”
Oh shit. “Yeah..”
“How the hell did the arm come off?”
I look at him. “You don’t remember?”
He looks confused. “I.. I think I saw him pulling out a gun..?”
Shit.


“And then I.. I saw you fighting him and then he took out this knife and came at you… and then… Clark how could you just… did you really…?”
I smile sadly. “Yeah”
“How man?”
He looks so baffled. There were a number of un-normal things he must have seen but thankfully (for me and my selfish ass) didn’t remember. I decide to be helpful.
“I.. I don’t know Whit how I did it.. I guess.. all that..”
“Anger?”
Whitney is teasing me now. And he is smiling too. That beautiful .. strained smile. So is he willing to let it go at that?
Whit stares at me silently for the longest time. Thinking what? I do not know. But I can sense his confusion and his desperation to just put everything behind him. Finally…
“Stranger things have happened. And you Kent, you’ve been the epitome of weird ever since I’ve known you.”


The cloud is lifting.
“Frankly.. everything’s weird about me Fordman. You better be forewarned.”
“Check” He agrees very seriously.
“Besides, its kinda cool to know that love doesn’t just make you weak.”
……
I don’t know what to say. But I can’t stay at that distance anymore. I go to him and pull him into my arms. I kiss his face and rub his back earnestly, trying to ease away the tension but not succeeding too much. We hold each other for a long time… and then he remembers something else.

“Clark?”
“Yeah”
“I could use that lunch now.”


Next Chapter >>

JM: Young tilted head closeup
cyndrarae

Smallville: Penance (20/?) (Clark/Whitney)



<< Previous Chapter

Chapter 20


Sunday, 1100hrs

Detective Connor and Officer Haley had left the Kent farm to go back to the Sheriff’s office. And then the fun began.
The four kids were notorious for their anti-social behavior, but those were juvenile misdemeanors and hence the records were sealed. But they were also suspects in another case of robbery, even though none of them had gotten incriminated yet. How the kids had managed that was a huge mystery to Detective Connor who was new in town. They sure didn't seem too smart to him. From a tough and furiously feared black New York cop to the suave detective in Metropolis PD, Samuel Connor had seen it all. Nothing surprised him anymore. He was sure there was a very logical explanation to the illogical happenings of Friday night and he was hellbent on finding what it was.
//The Fordman kid has the answers Sammy… Follow your guts.. you know you’re right!//
Right now, he focused on the four kids.


Mark Webber was in the hospital. They went to him but he wouldn’t talk. And not just because of the wire traction trapping his jaw, without which it looked his face just might fall to pieces. Webber simply wouldn’t talk. What was bugging his ass?
Dan Donner was nowhere to be found.
Brent Madison was brought in for questioning and his attitude was roguish and anything but cooperative. Same was true for Hector Hannigan although he seemed edgy and prone to falter. Connor grilled Madison in one room while Haley went after Hannigan in the other.

“Where were you that night?”
“What night?”
“You know being a wise-ass right now isn’t a very wise thing to do.”
“I was with friends at the Zinc”
“what friends?”
“Hector Hannigan, Danny Donner, Mark Webber, me and..”
“And?”
“Whitney Fordman”
“Mahaney with you guys?”
“Mahaney who?”
“Nigel Mahaney?’
“Oh you mean the dead guy? Nah I didn't .. we didn’t know him sir”
“You sure?”
“Yeah”
“Ok so what did you guys do?”
“Had dinner. Played a little pool. Crap.”
“what time did you leave?”
“around 12”
“around 12?”
“around 1. I’m sure. I think.”
“what did you do then?”
“drove around”
“in whose car?”
“Fordman’s truck”
“alcohol?”
“you know Zinc doesn’t serve alcohol to underaged..”
“don’t shit me boy”
“shit a little yeah. But I got it from my parents’ house I swear”
“did Whitney drink?”
“yeah.”
“how much?”
“shitloads”
“who was driving?”
“Brent , but h-he wasn’t drunk”
“were you drunk Brent?”
“hell no”
“a couple saw a red truck speeding down the highway towards Reiley field with four or five guys in it.”
“you were clocking a hundred and twenty”
……
“No shit. We never crossed 55 sir”
“Like I said, we were just driving around”
“the wife saw some signs of struggle in the truck”
…..
“the wife is mistaken”
“care to elaborate?”
“no”
“what was that again Hannigan? I couldn't hear ya”
“oh That. We.. we were just fooling around in the back”
"Where was Whitney, in the back?"
"Ye-Yeah no no sir! He was sitting in the front"
“ok what did you do then?”
“went home to sleep it off”
“what time did Whitney Fordman leave?”
“around 1”
“maybe 2”
“not sure”
“where did he go?”
“home I guess”
“you don’t know where he went?”
“nope”
“Fordman never went home that night did you know?”
…..
“No”
“You guys have a fight?”
“No sir”
‘Not at all”
……
“He drop you home in his truck?”
“uhhh no?”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“how did you guys get home?”
……
“hitchhiked”
“who gave you four drunk guys a lift in the middle of the night?”
……
“answer me!”
“I don’t remember”
“why not?”
…...
“why not Brent?”
“'cause I was.. slightly drunk?”
“uhh I think we walked”
“you walked?”
“uhh yeah?”


“That’s it then. Sheriff, we need to place these two under arrest for underage drinking, DUI and reckless endangerment. Officer Haley find out where they got the booze from and if it’s the Zinc, you know what to do.
I gotta go see about the Fordman kid.”
“I want my lawyer.”
“I want my dad!”
“Damn. And I liked that new joint so much!”

“Find the Donner kid and bring him in”
Detective Connor called out as he grabbed his overcoat and left for someplace too.
He knew after having spent some time in lockup, the kids would remember a few more details about the night to tell him. But right now, he had to dig up some evidence before bringing in the Fordman kid.

Something extremely fishy was going on. He’d noticed a fear in the two boys that was keeping them from acknowledging their relationship with Nigel Mahaney. And it wasn’t just about the scarecrowing. It seemed to go way beyond it. Plus the other things… that simply refused to make any sense…
Connor was gonna find it, whatever it was. But one thing was for sure. The Fordman kid was involved.


So he’d lied to the two kids making them think he was off their tail, but he wasn’t. The Webber kid used to hang around with Nigel every time he was in town. Webber and his gang were seen with Fordman at the Zinc the night before. They stacked up on booze and left in a red truck, the Fordman truck. Next day Fordman, a very wounded kid, trashes Webber’s gas station and smashes his jaw to pieces. Open and shut case. With just one problem: He had not a shred of evidence against the kid. Plus he had a reasonable alibi.


Only one way to be sure… Bleed him.

Next Chapter >>

JM: Young tilted head closeup
cyndrarae

Smallville: Penance (21/?) (Clark/Whitney)



<< Previous Chapter

Chapter 21


Sunday 1420hrs

Clark and Whitney had lunch at the Talon. Whitney was totally ravenous and ate as if he’d gone hungry for two whole days… Which actually was the case. IVs don’t exactly count as chow.


Lana was shrieking with joy and crying with sadness at seeing Whitney and the wounds on his face, in that order. Whitney wore Clark’s brown jacket to cover up the rest. Lana had it figured out by now, but she didn’t say a word about it, pretended like nothing was wrong. Clark and Whitney both were very grateful to her for that, both reminded of why this beautiful girl was the first proud owner of their hearts, both decided she still had the greatest female ass in the world.

Lana now fully owned and managed the place, thanks to the divine help she'd received from Lex Luthor. They'd dated for awhile but it was obvious they weren't meant to be in love. Back to business, despite competition from the new slick joint Zinc, she was doing great business. She joined them at their usual table and was promptly all over Whitney, fussing about him like an overzealous over-possessive girlfriend. Whit sure was enjoying all the attention, as Clark quietly looked on. Whit would look at Clark now and then with the most precious expression of love that only Clark could decipher. To the rest of the world, they were still just almost-friends.
And then, in walked Chloe.

“Whitney!!”
She shrieked louder than Lana and in an instant she had grabbed him into a big hug. Whit loved this gal. Their friendship hadn’t always been this close but ever since he’d returned, Chloe had been treating him like her best friend. Oddly, he too felt a kinship with her that wasn’t there before. Chloe turned to Clark then…


“Hello lover.”
Clark kissed her back. His insides were twisting with guilt at having betrayed his girlfriend. He felt Whit slightly grazing his hand against his so gently and so swiftly no one else noticed. He relaxed. And then Chloe started asking questions.
“Whit what happened to your face?”
“uhh.. had an accident?”
Better keep the story straight.
“oh PLEASE Whitney, do I look dumb to you?”
So much for keeping the story straight.
“uhh.. had a fight?”
“With who? Why? When? Clark you fought with Whitney?”
Clark was totally taken aback.
“WHA..!?! How the hell do you reach that conclusion!?!”
Whit laughed and laughed.
“Chloey if you think your scrawny boyfriend could sock it to me you obviously overestimate him a LOT…” he said with a twinkle in his baby blue eyes.
“Yeah right.”
Clark was smiling too, in cognizance of the little joke between them. Chloe and Lana laughed too and Chloe continued..
“Jokes apart, what did happen Whitney?”
“Ran into an old enemy, that’s all. Hey don’t stare at me like that, you should see the other guy’s face. Or rather Not see it!”
“Hmm.. who was this unfortunate fella may I ask?”
“uhh.. Mark Webber”
Clark and Whit both were getting uncomfortable. Too many secrets, too many lies. Lana looked down at her hands on the table too. For a second it looked like Chloe was not believing them. Then brushing her suspicion off she smiled.
“Oh yeah! I saw him checking out of the hospital like an hour ago."
Clark asked, "Who? Webber?"
Chloe nodded, not really meeting his gaze.
"His face was in some kind of wire traction. What the hell did you do.. break his jaw?”
Whitney chuckled. “Yep”
Clark butted in again. “What were you doing at the hospital?”
“Oh, I went there looking for detective Connor. I wanted to interview him but he kept giving me the slip all day until I finally caught up with him there. One tough cookie that one I tell you.”
Whitney and Clark recalled their run-in with him earlier that day and fell silent.

Lana noticed the sudden tension and chirped in.
“Hey who wants my latest invention in dessert.. its chocolate ice cream floating in black coffee topped with mint sauce!”
Chloe made a grossed out face. “Mint sauce? You’re kidding me right?”
“Nope. Wanna try?”
And then she grinned brightly. “Okay”
“Come on, I wanna show you something” And Lana led Chloe away, giving the boys some time to recover.

The rest of lunch was a blur and soon Whitney said he had to get home. Chloe wouldn’t let Clark go, she was too pissed at him for having avoided her all weekend. He gave Whit a helpless look but Whit smiled reassuringly. The hiding was killing them, but they couldn’t deal with this now. There were more pressing issues, like Whitney having to go home and face his mom.

Sunday 1530hrs

Betty Fordman had been working at the store. It gave her something to do instead of having to stay at the empty house all by herself. She hadn’t once stopped wondering about her son.
//What's with this investigation? Is Whitney really involved in that big murder case they’re talking about on TV?//
The police hadn’t told her the details. Officer Haley was a friend of the family and he didn’t wanna alarm her for nothing. At least not now.
It was while she was caught up in her anxieties for Whitney, that Whitney walked in.


“Whitney!”
For a third time that day, he suffered under the bodily assault of a hysterical woman too happy to see him. He let out a little “ooff” and hugged his mom back with all the might he had.
“hey mom..”
“hey baby..”
His mother’s eyes were brimming with tears. And then filled with severe concern.
“Whitney what happened?”
She took in the gashes on his face and the still slightly swollen eye. Whitney didn’t flinch once.
“I had a little .. umm..”
//Webber wasn’t pressing charges right?//
“I had a fight with the Webber kid”
“gas station boy?”
“yeah”
“Why? When?”
“Yesterday morning. We.. we had some scores to settle from high school that’s all. Mom please don’t freak out on me okay? Its nothing.”


Betty Fordman said nothing. What were the kind of mothers who could make out when their kids were lying to them? 'Cause she was having this sense the boy wasn’t completely truthful right now and yet… What was she doing wrong?
“Whitney I… I don’t know what to say.”
“Then don’t mom. Please?”
Whitney turned on the charm, smiling goofily to appease his upset mother. The night before, he’d thought he’d never see his mom again. Damn it was good to be home.
“The police were here Whit, they wanted to know where you were and ask you some questions. What was that about?”
“uhh.. nothing mom. I told you on the phone, I knew the deceased’s brother. They’re following some really weird line of investigation mom and wanna keep all the people they question in town awhile longer.”
//couldn’t say ‘suspects’ now could I?//
“That’s why, Officer Haley talked to my commanding officer at the base and … I’m staying for at least another week”
He smiled. The happiness he felt at having one more week at home, and …. with Clark was too much to keep inside. It spilled over with his huge smile that Betty could simply not ignore. She forgot about all her apprehensions and smiled back.

“Come here baby..”
Okay the boy was past eighteen.
//So what!?! I am still his mother aren’t I? //
They hugged each other, mother and son.
//Again I say, damn its good to be home!//

Sunday 1645hrs

Clark and Chloe were sitting inside her car leaning against one another. They had kissed for the longest time then just laid back, each lost in their own thoughts. Chloe wondered why Clark looked a little .. distant, but she kept the thought to herself.
//What could it be? Is my hair flat already?//
Clark felt like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He couldn’t know what that really felt like, and wouldn’t until much later in his extraordinary life. It just seemed like a cool thing to feel right now.
Outside, he sat cuddled up against Chloe, running fingers through her pretty hair. Inside he was tearing himself apart, wondering how long he could deceive her like this.


//Kent you cant do this to her. She loves you and you’re betraying her trust! //
//What the hell am I supposed to do? Tell her that I had fallen in love with Whitney and break up? Break up? Do I want to break up with Chloe? God, I don’t wanna hurt her //


He…. he cared so much for her. And he knew she was crazy about him. She had passed up on a great chance in Metropolis just so she could be with him. She had loved him selflessly for so long now.. how could he break her heart just like that?
Clark was miserable. It was clear Whit and him didn’t wanna come out right away. They had way too many issues to sort through right now.

Being bisexual is one thing, being in love is completely another. For Clark Kent, love and loyalty came hand in hand. And yet, here he was… madly in love with Whitney and not willing to give up on Chloe either. He was lost and confused.

And then there was the Connor problem. He didn’t know what to do to keep Whitney safe from the murder investigation. That was the first and foremost thing on his mind. Of course the other first and foremost thing on his mind was the fact that Whitney would soon be returning to the Corp, and that he would be left behind, alone and yearning. But he didn’t wanna think about that right now.


//Do you know what denial is Clark?//
He smiled to himself wryly. //I know now Whit.. I know now.//

Chloe turned her face up to capture his lips with hers. He let her. She brought her hands up on the sides of his face and pulled him down, sucking at his tongue all the while. He let her. Soon she was pulling off his jacket and his shirt and caressing the bare skin on his back with one hand, while she ran her thumb along the beautiful jaw lovingly. Clark closed his eyes and lost himself in the kiss, holding her about the waist tightly. The kiss got frantic as Chloe plunged in deeper and deeper.. taking all his senses with her as she went. She brought her denim clad legs around him and squeezed him closer to herself. Clark never denied the fact that Chloe made him surrender utterly every time she so much as touched him. Aside from the tight rein he held on his alien strength, he inevitably would find himself at the mercy of this beautiful woman… to be held, and kissed and caressed, to be licked from head to toe, to be loved and be possessed with such totality… it scared him.


The circles she was drawing across his chest and down his abs .. around his bellybutton over and over and over .. were driving him crazy with desire. She unzipped him and reached into his jeans to hold him.. and fondle him… and that’s when it happened….
//I’m also… I’m also … in love with you Clark Kent//


“Ugh!”
Clark broke the kiss off as fast as possible.
Chloe let go of his member and brought her hand around to support the head that had jerked so suddenly away from her.
“Clark what's wrong?”
He was gasping for breath and wide-eyed with fear. Fear for what he was doing to both Chloe and Whitney. No!
“Chloe .. I.. I’m sorry.. I..”
“baby… ?” Chloe was shocked, and hurt, and concerned if he was okay. She held his face with both hands.
“What happened? Sweetie what's wrong?”
Clark was too busy panting, trying to calm down the ignited passions in him.
“Chloe please I.. I'm sorry. I have to… I just remembered...”
“What?”
“.. that.. that I don’t have protection.”
//Another lie. How many has it been today Kent? Lost count already? //

Chloe held her breath for a second and then let go. She didn’t really care much about protection, but Clark was right. They shouldn’t do this without one. Meekly she managed to smile.
“Okay Clark, but.. I wont let you go .. ”
He stared at her as she gathered him into her arms and pressed his head against her heart, much like Clark had done with Whitney to soothe him.
//So this is where I get it from //
He clung to her, disgusted with himself at his constant deception of people he claimed to love. How long could he go on like this? He feared for his sanity. He feared for his heart. But most of all, he feared for Whitney and Chloe who loved him so much.. more than he deserved damnit! Is this how he was destined to live? Hiding, lying, cheating? He nestled into the warmth that held him and shivered with the cold inside.

When his breathing came back to normal, he raised his head to look into her eyes, so filled with love and .. trust.
// What makes her trust you so blindly Kent? //
The answer was more than obvious. And the chanting from before resumed in his head.
// Liar Liar Liar….//


Next Chapter >>

JM: Young tilted head closeup
cyndrarae

Smallville: Penance (22/?) (Clark/Whitney)



<< Previous Chapter

Chapter 22


Sunday 1700hrs

The Fordmans closed business for the day and went home. Betty Fordman looked at the handsome boy walking beside her, holding her by the waist with such gentle yet firm protectiveness. He smiled at everyone and had something to say to everyone who stopped to greet him. The Fordman charm was in full force, not to mention the slightly mischievous twinkle in his eyes when he looked at her, cracking silly jokes, making her laugh just like the old times. How long had it been?
//Too long//
Out of nowhere, she was reminded of what her dearest high school friend Rose had said when she’d come to see her after a long long time.

“Bets! You’re positively glowing honey! Goodness are you.. pregnant?”
She had shrieked at her.
“Rose!! How the hell did you know?”
In return, Rose had squealed with delight and hugged her. And they’d danced around while she just kept on asking.. “how did you know Rose? How did you know?”

Back in the present, Betty was smiling at the distant memory.
//Where are you Rose … am I glowing today..? I’m pretty sure I am glowing today… //
She looked at Whitney as they drove home in the truck he brought back from Clark’s farm.
//He looks happy!// Mrs. Fordman knew her son looked more happier than … well.. in a long long time.
//I’d better thank Lana next time I see her. //

Lana did turn up.
She came soon after she was done at the Talon to see Whitney. She got the surprise of her life when Mrs. Fordman gave her a loving hug. She just stared at her for awhile before knowing what to say.
“Thanks Mrs. Fordman” She smiled weakly, guilt clawing at her guts.
“No, thank You Lana. Thank you.”
Whitney came down then and his mother left them alone.
“What was THAT about?” Whitney asked.
“Don’t know.. you tell me.”
Whit just smiled and shrugged, slightly embarrassed by it all. He realized it was something to do with the story that Whitney had spent the night at her place on Saturday.
They went out for a stroll and talked and talked. Seemed like they were doing a lot of that now than they ever did when they were actually going around.

Lana found Whitney to have become more mature in his outlook. He wasn’t the snobbish brat anymore. He seemed to have found a greater purpose in life, was impassioned about the Marine Corp and his role there. And today when she met him, there was something that had been missing three days ago when she’d met him at the Zinc. A certain.. quality of.. peace?
She’d taken him to the new place thinking it might be more in sync with his new big city interests, what with being a Marine and all? She was wrong, he seemed happier and more relaxed at the Talon today than at the Zinc that night. Between friends.
Lana found herself falling for him again.

“Whitney?”
“Yeah”
“Can I ask you a personal question, and its okay if you tell me to shut up 'cause I’m expecting you to anyway.”
“Go on”
“How… how did you.. you know.. how did you escape .. that night?”
Whitney hesitated. He didn’t wanna talk about this, but he owed her an explanation. But before he could say anything..
“Hey.. if you don’t want to talk about it just...”
“Its okay Lana..” He drew a deep breath. “What do you think happened out there?”
“Tha.. That Nigel Mahaney tried to avenge his brother’s death by.. you know.. b-but.. as usual Clark came out of nowhere and got you out, somehow.”
She grinned confidently, “Has to be Clark.. its always Clark.”
Whitney laughed at that too.


“yeah… it is always him isn’t it?” He sighed again and nodded. “yeah… that’s what happened.”
“Don’t worry.. I’m sure you’ll get out of this mess. When do you have to return?”
“Sunday. I got one more week. I gotta explain all this to my CO once I get back to the base too. Not exactly looking forward to that.”
She then changed the subject.
“Hey you and Clark seem to have really hit it off.”
Yikes. Not a very good change of subject though.
Whitney laughed nervously and licked his lips.
// ‘Hit it off!’ Bulls eye princess//


“Yeah .. he’s .. you know him and me had always been at loggerheads because of.. you know..”
“.. yeah ..and now that Lana Lang is not the issue anymore..!?”
Lana completed it for him. Whit didn’t wanna hurt her. He stopped walking and turned toward her.
“Lana..”
She looked at her feet then back up, smiling but swallowing deeply.
“Its okay Whitney.. things change.. people change..”
Whitney didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t agree more that’s for sure. Two guys and a girl.. guys at each other’s throats over the girl.. only to later ditch the girl and shack up themselves! If it were some other guys and some other girl, he would have found it really really funny.

Lana’s eyes were moist. Then she laughed suddenly,
“Hey remember how you took Clark aside that night you had to leave and told him to watch out for me?”
“Yeah..”
She was laughing a lot. “I.. I thought you were like .. warning him to stay away.. marking your territory or something.”
Whit chuckled at the memory.
“I had to do something. I knew you both would get together as soon as I was out of earshot!”
Lana punched him lightly in his gut. He let out an ouch. She’d unknowingly managed to hit one of his wounds. Then she grew serious..
“We did, yeah.. we did.”
She was lost in deep thought. Or painful memories maybe.
“It… it didn’t work out.”
That laugh again. Whitney didn’t know why she was saying all this.


“I’m sorry” //No you’re not!//
“Don’t be.. Like half the school, Clark too had a schoolboy crush on the head cheerleader that’s all. He loves me like a friend, sure he does. But I could see his heart was … someplace else, not with me.”
She said that very sadly. Whitney took her in his arms and she rested her head on his chest. Ironically, he had more in common with Lana now than ever before.
Lana stayed quiet for awhile and then looked up into the beautiful blue eyes. Whit lowered his head to meet her gaze.
And Lana kissed him.

Whitney was taken aback. Lana looked at him to gauge his reaction but all she saw was surprise, so she tried again. This time, Whitney moved back, and lowered his eyes.
“I’m.. I’m sorry Lana.”
Lana smiled sadly and slid out of his embrace. She stood at a comfortable distance from him and tried to regain the famous Lang ice composure. Had to struggle but finally got it. Smile in place she looked back at Whitney who was feeling really awkward now. Things sure had changed round here.
“I loved you Lana, I really did, with all my heart and soul. Its just that…”
He didn’t know what to say. She completed it for him again.
“One year is a long time. Yeah”
Then she smiled. “Hey.. don’t worry about it. Now that I understand everything, its easier for me to move on.”
“What do you mean?”

She moved closer and placed a hand on his rapidly beating heart.
“Whitney.. I am not blind. After you left, and I was with Clark for awhile, I think I had realised it right then but I didn’t wanna accept it so.. I ignored it. But now, after seeing you, I am sure.”
Whitney was still confused.
“Clark couldn’t be with me because I reminded him too much of someone he wanted to forget. He’d rather be with Chloe than with me.”
The last sentence came out with a tinge of bitterness.
Whitney held his breath.
“Inside, your mom hugged me because she wanted to thank me. She doesn’t know it but I do, that she was thanking the wrong person. She sees it too you know .. like me.. she sees how happy you are Whitney. How.. content, how at peace you’ve been after.. you spent these past few days with.. with Clark.”
Lana was both crying and laughing now.
"You just had what I can only imagine to be a horrible.. horrible night! And yet something or someone has managed to help you get over it and has actually made you.. happy! There's pain I see in your eyes baby, but there's also love.. pure undiluted.. unregretted love you've found in its wake.. haven't you?"
Whit was stunned at how perceptive Lana had been. She’d known that Clark loved him long before he did himself! He suddenly felt very very sad for Lana.


“Lana…”
She sniveled slightly, and remembered how Whitney used to find that so adorable. She shrugged off the thought and continued.
"And today when I saw you two together at lunch, how you look at him, how he looks at you..?"
"Lana I.."
“And I am very happy for you Whit really I am!”
Whitney’s eyes brimmed with tears. He took her in his arms again.
“Me.. I.. I don’t even know who I want.. or what I want..”
She laughed manically.
“I am the odd one here Whit. You and Clark.. you’re wonderful. And you seem to make each other happy.. that’s all I want baby. That’s enough for me.”
Whitney whispered into her hair… the hair he’d loved so much.
“Thank you Lana.”
The two stood entwined like that for a long time. And the sun came down on them.

Whitney went back home with a heavy heart and yet relieved that he didn’t have to hide from Lana anymore. This vacation he had seen more emotional upheavals than he’d seen all his life. He was too exhausted for words and the throbbing was returning to some of the sorer wounds. But he held a brave face for his mom during dinner and afterwards when Anne wanted to talk and tell him everything and wanted to hear everything she hadn’t heard from him already. Whitney loved every moment of it, every look of adulation at his achievements and every admonishment at having taken unnecessary risks… he loved making his mother happy period. And she was.

Close to midnight, they finally decided to go to bed. Whitney tore off his jeans and shirt and in his boxers climbed into bed. He drifted off immediately. But a sleeping Whitney wasn’t meant to be. He was aroused by light nicks on his window pane. Someone was throwing pebbles at his window pane!
“Oh that’s really cheesy Kent!”
He got up in a gleeful huff and went to the window. Indeed, Clark Kent stood there and grinned widely when he saw that Whitney was awake. Whitney threw open the window.
“Hey beautiful…” Romeo whispered seductively.
Whitney couldn’t keep the warm blush from coloring his skin from head to toe. He bit back the smile on his face and hissed..
“Hey yourself you jerk… You know what time it is?”
Clark frowned as if in deep thought and said. “No”
“Go away Kent. My mom’s a real light sleeper.”
“Hey why don’t you come down then. Lets go for a midnight stroll.”
“Its two in the goddamn morning!”
“So? Come on be a sport jock.. All you’ve done is sleep these past 3 days, aren’t you sick of it?”
“Oh that’s nice Kent. The three days that I’ve been in bed is because you kept me there! Now listen, I’ll come over in the morning.. I’m serious about my mom.. she’ll be up anytime now.”
“Come down Fordman, don’t make me…”
“Make you what?”
“.. don’t make me serenade you”
Whitney was spooked. “Wha.. WHAT!???!”
Clark crossed his arms, lush lips pursed in dead seriousness. “I’ll do it.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”

“I arise from dreams of thee…!!”
“oh fuck no”
“In the first sweet sleep of night….!”
“For the love of God!”
“.. when the winds are breathing low..!”
“I’m coming I’m coming!”
“And the stars are burning bright!”
Whitney pulled up his shirt and jeans as fast as he could, laughing and cursing as he did.
“I arise from dreams of thee…!!”
He grabbed shoes and a jacket, and stepped out the window onto the ledge below.
“And a spirit in my feet…!”
“Stop it will ya?”
Whit slipped down the pipe and landed right in front of Clark, who by now was grinning away like crazy.
“Hath led me - who know how?… To thy chamber window, sweet.”
…..


Whitney recovered, and punched him in the gut.
“You bastard..”
And then Clark whacked him on his head and the two of them were soon playfully lunging at each other and hanging from each other’s throats. Whitney led Clark away from his house and they went laughing and sparring and wrestling each other.

Just then, a police car’s headlights shone from a distance and the two ducked to get out of sight. Clark, on account of being faster, dove first into a dark corner, taking Whitney with him as he went and now held onto him like a thief would hold on to precious stolen goods. He pressed a finger on his lips, while the van slid rolled away beside them.
Whitney took the opportunity to kiss the finger and then take it inside his mouth. He had this seductively mischievous twinkle in his eyes as Clark offered him another finger, then another, then his thumb and Whitney sucked at them all earnestly.
“Remind me to try this with something other than my fingers.”
Whitney blushed and nodded as he sucked at the thumb in his mouth. Clark felt his control slipping. He held onto Whit’s face with his other hand to stop him from using his sexy mouth and sighed deeply. The unit was far away now.
“Lets go.”

It was totally deserted and quiet as a graveyard. They got up and started walking towards nowhere together. Clark on one side of the road and Whitney on another. The distance .. so far and yet so dangerously close.. was exciting.
“where are we going?”
“don’t know”
“no plans?”
“nope”
…..
They walked silently, admiring each other from that distance, teasing each other from that distance.
“so how was your day?’
Clark hadn’t had a good day. He’d lied to Whitney about himself, he’d lied to Chloe about Whitney. He felt like he would drown in his own sea of lies and deception and lose the love and trust of everyone dear to him. He kept all that to himself and lied again.
“Good, Good. How about you?”
“Mine was cool too. Mom and me did a lot of catching up and we talked and she fussed over me and we talked some more…” He looked happy with himself.
“yeah? What you guys talk about?”
Whitney shrugged, “just.. mom and son stuff... Lana came over.”
Whitney considered telling Clark about his conversation with Lana that evening, but decided to hold on to it for later. Right now, guilt wasn’t what the two boys wanted.

Clark hadn’t missed the looks she’d given his Whitney during lunch. He turned his head to look at Whit.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah”
…..
“And?”
“And what?”
“What did you guys do? You.. went out?”
“Nope. Just talked”
“About what?”
“Nothing really. Just .. stuff”
“Ex-girlfriend and boyfriend stuff?”
Whit jeered, “yeah kinda”
“Kinda?”
“Oh don’t tell me you’re jealous? Already the envious boyfriend huh?”

//Ohkay. Two can play this game.//
“Oh absolutely. You’re back two days and already you’re moving onto my territory, sure I’m jealous!”
“Oh..! Nice save Kent. But Lana aint your territory”
Clark had to agree. “Yeah that’s right.. she’s nobody’s Territory”
Whit nodded in agreement. “she’s her own Territory”
“more like a whole state actually.”
“maybe a small country?”
“yeah.” and they chuckled at their own bad jokes.

“Clark?”
“Yeah”
“Admit it. You’re jealous aren’t ya?”
“eeeeyyyeah.. sure I am.”
“.. Of Lana! Not me!”
“Now whatever gave you that idea Fordman?”
“Oh forget it.”

Whitney quit exasperated. Clark chuckled and came towards him. Whit ducked out of reach, fast enough even for superboy leaving him surprised.
//Now that’s new //
“Forget it freshman, not in the mood” He teased.
“I am.” But Whit ducked again.
“So?” He walked backwards, away from Clark, facing him, only now and then turning to see where he was going.
“You know what your problem is Kent?”
Clark followed him at the same pace, not once speeding up, smiling, indulging him.
“Tell me”
“You got too used to having your own way that’s what”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You’re getting famous round here dude.”
Clark found that a little worrying if true. “Really?”
“Uh-uh. Too many people bending over backwards to do your bidding, maybe return a favor. Pretttty neat!”
Whit was playing him. Clark loved the way his eyes twinkled and the half-smirking, half-teasing expression on his face.
“I never asked anyone to bend over backwards for me.”
“Sure you didn’t!”
“You don’t believe me?”
“I believe what I see.”
“and .. what do you see?”
“That.. this Clark Kent is not the same kid I knew one year ago.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“Hmm.. depends. Cant say I liked the old clutz too much.”
Whit chuckled when he saw Clark pouting. And they kept walking.
“At least he was better than this new Kent who thinks he’s some kind of superhero who … hey!!”
Clark had suddenly lunged for him but Whit barely jumped out of reach.
Clark let out a huge “whew” like he was surprised at his agility while Whitney directed his index finger at him and guffawed like an excited six year old. Clark let Whit have his way for awhile as he chased him around, laughing and squealing, missing him by a heartbeat, until finally he lunged with hardly half his effort and his hands wrapped around Whitney’s waist from behind. He closed his mouth on his neck as Whitney stopped laughing and started sighing. And then Whit heard the words hissed with such deliberation he trembled.
“What I want Fordman, is to bend you.. forward.. and fuck. you. senseless.”

The hair at the back of his neck stood painfully erect as he bent his head to make space for Clark’s ministrations, and Clark’s hot breath as he whispered to kill...
“and you’re right. I always get what I want….”

They were in a sparse area of the town with only the full moon to light the way and no sign of life for miles around. Clark had earlier located a deserted barn and now started towards it with Whitney in tow. He turned Whitney around so he was facing him.
Facing Clark.
Clark.
Eyes, green as the kryptonite of Lana’s necklace.. dark with desire.. lips, red as a sun on the rise.. and plush with passion.. the shadow of a smile on his face, naughty, sexy… evil. And when he moved, he moved with such feral grace.. slow.. seductive.. dangerous. Whit knew in that moment of truth that he had lost. Lost himself to an obsession that would know no gratification, no end. Ever.
He shivered to think there might be no turning back for him, that he might have closed all doors of escape. For a second time, Clark Kent had managed to ruin the life he’d created for himself. He’d shattered all his illusions of a future, of himself. And amidst all the shattered pieces of glass, he saw himself, as clear as he saw Clark. He saw himself through the eyes of Clark Kent. A boy lost.
And found. In love.

Suddenly coming out of his trance he saw Clark holding him by the waist, close, one hand creeping up to between his shoulder blades and gently rubbing there. He was saying something.
“Whit you with me?”
……
“Whitney?”
“huh?”
Clark smiled. He’d won alright. Without another word, he lowered himself slightly, hauled Whitney over his shoulder and stood up. Whit jerked into total consciousness as he found himself hanging over Clark’s shoulder, his legs held tight but upper torso flailing for support. In the briefest of flashes, he was reminded of the delightful giddiness he’d felt as a child when his dad would throw him up in the air and he would tumble squealing, back into the strong trusted arms.
//Do it again daddy do it again!//
He jerked his head in panic.

“hey!”
“Relax jock”
Clark adjusted his grip of Whitney and started walking towards the barn. One arm was around the two calves while with the other hand, he lovingly massaged a plump buttock.
“C-Clark…”
“Yes Whit?”
“If its not much to ask could you please just.. PUT ME DOWN!”
“Why?”
“I can walk thank you very much!”
He responded to that with a smack on his butt and carried on walking.
“Enjoy the ride lover. Let me carry you.. let me keep you ...”
“Uhh”
Whitney didn’t know what to say. He sagged against the stronger frame and closed his eyes, relishing the feel of Clark’s hands on him, at the same time riddled with anxiety on what was to follow.
“You trust me?”
Whit opened his eyes at that and gripped Clark’s jacket with both hands. “I trust you”
Clark pressed his face into Whit’s side and took a a deep loving whiff.
“Then don’t be scared baby… its going to be a beautiful night.”


Next Chapter >>

JM: Young tilted head closeup
cyndrarae

Smallville: Penance (23/?) (Clark/Whitney)



<< Previous Chapter


Chapter 23


Monday 0222hrs

Clark carried him to the barn, all the while talking to him, telling him how beautiful he was, how much he loved carrying him, loved taking care of him, how much he made him happy. He tickled him now and then while Whit whined in protest, patted the curves of his butt in appreciation of his good behavior and pinched him when he got restless.

Inside the barn, that was amazingly brightly lit by nothing more than the full moon, Clark found a comfortable spread of hay against huge stacks of the same, and unceremoniously dumped Whitney onto it.
“Ugh!”
Whitney was half giggling and half miffed at being handled like a bale of hay himself. He propped himself on his elbows and looked around as Clark blew him a kiss and went to close the doors and then make a fire. There was a matchbox and logs readily available. Whitney also noticed two blankets, a bag of chips, bunch of sodas and a torch just next to where he lay. He grinned at his partner who in turn was enjoying the look of surprise on Whit’s beautiful face.
“No plans huh?”

Clark grinned widely at him and winked as he came over. He let out a war cry and jumped almost onto Whit and the two boys frolicked. The significance of all those “rolling in the hay” expressions made perfect sense tonight. One of these moments, Whitney was on top straddling Clark while the stronger boy lay on his back under him.
“Jeez Kent.. never knew you were so strong.”
Clark was just about to roll him over again, but he stopped.
//Uh-oh.//
“You think?”
“You shitting me? You built out of iron or something?”
He thumped the rock solid chest beneath him to illustrate his point.
“You just carried me like forty yards and by no standards am I featherweight you know that.. you’re not tired, you’re not breathless…”
//Kent you’re such a bloody showoff!//
“Talk about stamina man.”
Whit was chuckling with glee at the sexier connotation of what he was saying. Clark narrowed his eyes at him, amused at his delightedness.
“All for you babe.. all for you.”
Whit lifted one hand from the floor beside Clark and put it on his abdomen, stroking him gently.
“You amaze me man. Every moment that I spend with you.. I get to know something new about you I didn’t know before.. makes me fall harder …”
……
“.. and deeper..”
……
Clark brought his hands upto Whit’s face. “say it.”
Whit smiled and bit his lip. Eyes twinkling.
//Oh now he chooses to be coy!// Clark wanted to hear him say it.
“..say it Whit.. deeper what?”
“deeper.. in love.. with you.”

Clark sighed and pulled Whitney down so the blonde hair was tucked into the crook of his neck. He wrapped his arms around the boy and just held him there. Whit thought for only a fourth of a nano-second that Clark hadn’t replied but it was too insignificant a thought to hold on to in that delicious embrace.
…….
“I wonder..”
“what?”
//Maybe this isn’t the time// “nothing”
“what?”
//Don’t say it// “mmm nothing”
“tell me!”
//He’s not ready. We’re not ready// “Its nothing!!”

Whitney raised his head to meet Clark’s gaze. Clark could swallow his choke-hold secrets down but he couldn’t hide the passion heating him up from the inside out. Whit saw it and played coy again. He was totally loving being the courted, the pursued, the seduced here. The roles were clear from day one. Day one of Clark Kent in Smallville High that is. No wonder Whitney played over-arrogant and over-macho every time he came around.

Whit saw the passion in those criminally sexy green eyes and fought to keep the constant smile he sported that night off his face.
“Woah! No way Kent.. do you know how sore my ass is? I couldn’t walk straight all day. Or sit. Or stand. There’s no way…”
Clark flipped Whitney over so that now he was the straddler while the blonde lay pinned beneath him.
“Fordman… stop teasing me.. you’ll regret it.”
“wha..?? Oh yeah?”
“yeah or..”
“or what? You gonna use your super strength on me!?!”
……

Clark was stunned. He immediately let go and rolled off gently to lie beside Whitney. His face was a mask of confusion. This was the second time he’d brought it up.
“What?”
“What what?”
“What did you just say?”
“I.. I was joking... wait what did I say again?”
Whit really didn’t know what he said wrong. Clark let out his breath, and tried to salvage the situation with an awkward smile.
“You said.. super strength or something again. I … I hope I haven’t been hurting you too much?”
Whitney rolled his eyes.
“Of course not babe, I was just teasing you.”

“Hey it wasn’t meant like.. a negative feedback or something! I definitely don’t feel forced or hurt by you Clark. I mean.. I like it. Really!”
And he sat up grinning at Clark while the latter continued to silently brood and stare at him with blank eyes.
“You worry you might hurt me don’t you?”

“Hey I survived the first year with the Marine Corp. What's a little high school punk after that huh?”

“Oops I’m sorry, not a kid anymore .. Mr. Senior sir!”


“Oh come on Clark!”
Whit pouted a while, then seeing it wasn’t helping, he drew closer. He placed a hand on Clark’s cheek and stared into the green eyes as he softly whispered, “I wont break… I promise”

Clark had never felt so scared of his own powers. He’d hated them, he’d once wished them away, only to wish them back, he’d learnt to love them, even prided himself for them, he'd worried about them now and then, with Lana, with Chloe.. but never.. never had he feared his own massive strength the way he did right now. With the girls, he was like a huge bulldog well aware of his size and capacity to destruct, and so with them he'd chosen to be humble and passive. Fact was, he'd never felt like he'd lose control before.. but with Whitney, things were different. He'd felt less inhibited, and more free.. he'd let his sanity be ruled by passion, and he'd found himself on the brink more than once.
//What if I lose control so much that I forget and end up hurting Whitney? I cant let that happen. Never!//

And meanwhile, Whitney had had enough. The kiss was gentle to begin with.. with Whitney gently suckling at the red lips, begging to be let in. Who was Clark to resist any longer. Soon as the tongues met, the kiss turned deeper and hungrier, all worries from before were forgotten and the only thing remembered was the taste of Whitney on Clark and Clark on Whitney. It was heaven.

“I want you naked Whit”
“Make me”

Clark skillfully divested him of his clothes, and laid him down on the bed of hay. He began his detailed journey of love and lust from Whitney’s forehead to last curling toe, while the object of his attention writhed in exquisite pleasure. The touch of Clark on Whitney’s body was as searing as it was assuring, as rough as it was gentle. The elegant hands worked up the mound of flesh between his legs until it was red and hot.. and the wet trail of kisses Clark left in his wake was enough to drive him over the edge over and over.
And over.


“Clark.. Clark. Clark..”
he chanted without being aware he was actually doing it. And when Clark chose to torture every raw sensitized nerve of his body with a single strand of hay, he couldn’t stop his moaning for the world.
"Clark, don't...!"
Whitney pleaded as his lover drew jagged lines and random circles with the stick of hay at his navel. He tried to push the evil hand away but Clark only improvised. He held both of his victim's hands in his own and clutching the strand in his mouth, proceeded to tickle his nipples until they ached with pain. And Whitney loved it.
"C-Clark..."
Whit didn't bother to bite back the screams any longer. Clark spit the grass out.
“Whit.. tell me what you want..”
“oh God take me! Take me now!”
Clark snickered while nibbling at a nipple. “You want God to take you?”
Whit couldn’t help gasping himself.
“Forgive him lord for his wicked blasphemous … but otherwise quite talented tongue.”
Clark giggled into his other nipple while Whitney entangled his fingers in the jet black hair.
“Oh God please! I mean Clark.. please.. please”
Clark kissed him full on the lips once before straightening up. Slowly he took off his clothing as Whitney looked on, feeling like he’d died and gone to heaven. In his state of blissful delirium, he had no idea what he was saying himself.


“Are you an angel..?”
Clark smiled at him. “No, you are Whitney.. you are my angel.”

Soon a naked Clark was back on his side and Whit felt himself being turned over. It meant having to tear off his eyes from the most beautiful body in the world and he almost cried.
“Shhhh I’m right here baby… right here”
Clark kissed his neck and the side of his face turned upwards. He took his time admiring the perfectly sculpted back and the beautiful bottom he was completely smitten with. He licked little circles all over the smooth back making Whitney harder every second. The moans grew louder and louder but no coherent words could be formed. Finally Clark reached Whitney’s butt and after wetting it all over with his tongue, he dove in for his magical opening. Whitney jumped.
He had no idea Clark was going to do that. Heck Clark didn't either. The boys just followed their instincts. A tongue penetrating him over and over stripped Whit of all his senses and all he could do was surrender to the sweet helplessness.
“You like that Whit?”
Whit continued to pant loudly.
“Good”
Then there were fingers replacing the tongue and massaging his prostate both from the inside and outside. Whitney forgot how to breathe. He sobbed with the extreme overload of stimulation and he needed a release badly. He started rubbing himself back and forth against the floor, but Clark gripped his hips to stop him.
“Let me do that for you baby.”

He turned Whitney around again and settled between his legs. Looking into the flushed face and eyes drooping with intoxication, he felt a sudden sense of pride and possession.
“mine” he whispered and raised him into sedentary position. And he kissed him, taking his breath away again. Slowly he pushed himself into Whitney as the latter groaned with a little pain but thrust himself on Clark’s shaft eagerly. He wanted it fast, but Clark wanted it slow, only because he knew it frustrated Whitney to no end, and the more bothered he got, the harder he came. So Clark took his time, captured the throbbing member between them and started a rhythm akin to the thrusting. Whitney moaned and clamped down his teeth at his tormentor’s neck.


“You’re so cruel to me!”
“That’s why you love me, don’t you?” and Clark started fucking him.. in slow motion of course.
“Yes! Yes!” and Whitney clung to the hot Adonis’ body with all his might. All his wounds were forgotten. If he felt pain, he couldn’t separate it from the pleasure he felt and couldn’t care less.
He kissed Clark and nibbled at his ear lobe until he heard the musical sounds of unrestrained pleasure from the boy in his arms.
“Oh God”
“N-No.. the name’s Whitney” and the boys managed to laugh between their gasps, only to return to some more breathless kissing.

They made love thrice that night, and they couldn’t have enough of each other.

After the first time, Whitney lay curled up with his back against Clark's chest, shivering ever so slightly. Clark reached out to get the blankets and wrapped them along with himself around Whitney. He nuzzled at Whitney’s hair while he played with the blonde patch of hair between his legs with one hand. Amazing what a little trick like that can do... all their exhaustions forgotten, they plunged into another session of love-making at the end of which Whitney felt like he‘d die.. he’d just die. The mistake he made was that he said it aloud.


“Don’t you ever joke about that again babe.”
Clark crushed the blonde to himself as he said so. He was through seeing people he loved getting hurt. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to Whitney ever again. Whitney smiled into his chest.
“Clark…” he looked up into the concerned eyes. “You know I have to go back”
“I don’t want to talk about it”
“Oh that’s mature”
“No its not, but I don’t care okay? All I want is you to be with me Whit. I don’t want you to go.”
Whit could see he meant it and he got up, disentangling himself from Clark. This time, Clark almost wept.
“Clark..” but Whit himself was looking away, not wanting to face his love when he said the things he didn’t want to.


//Get a grip Kent, since when did you become the hysterical mother?//
Clark let out a huge sigh and got up to sit too, just behind Whitney. They sat in silence for a while, before Whit sadly laughed.

“Of course, that’s assuming I get out of this …mess first.”
Clark brought his strong arms around Whitney and pulled him in so he was leaning against Clark.
“We’ll make it through this, you and me. I promise.”
Whit smiled. “Even if we don’t, Clark I want you to know that.. no matter what happens, I’ll always be thankful we got to be together. And I’ll always love you.. till the day I die.”
“You’re saying it again.”
“I’m sorry.”

Clark couldn’t bear to see the shadow of pain overcoming his lover. He wanted to gather the boy into himself and hide him. Hide him from this world that hurt him so much and made him so sad. He couldn’t possibly let him go when he knew what awaited him out there was nothing but more pain and agony and danger. He just couldn’t.
//Super strong alien my ass. What good are you Kent if you can't protect the love of your life?//
“I love you too Whit.”
“I know”

“You know its not like I don’t want to stay with you Clark but.. “
“I know”
He did know. Whitney had a destiny to fulfill. Just like he had one. He just didn’t know what it was.
//But it’d better have Whitney in it or I’m outta here.//


Whitney wasn’t sure Clark was okay with this. Of course he wasn’t, he couldn't be, and shouldn’t be! But the silence was too heavy to bear and he wanted to say something to make it okay, to make it tolerable. He tried to turn around to face Clark but Clark wouldn’t let him leave his embrace.
“Clark I..”
“Shhh its okay Whitney. Really. You don’t have to say anything”
He pressed a kiss into the blonde hair and held him tighter to himself.
"I'm sorry I acted like a jerk. I know you have to go, I know you want to be a Marine, be the son your father wanted you to be.."
The words brought immense relief to Whitney's aching heart.
"and I wont stop you, heck I Cant stop you! But I'm gonna wait for you babe. And you cant stop me."
Clark's voice dropped to a gentle whisper as he pressed a kiss onto his lover's right lobe. Whitney felt tears burning behind his closed eyelids.
“Just know this baby.. wherever you go, I’ll always be watching over you.”
Whitney smiled.
....
“Always?”
“Always”

….
….
“hey babe?”
“hmmm..”
“you awake?”
“nope”
“you up for once more?”
"jeez no dude. I'm beat."
"oh okay"
"maybe later yeah?"
"yeah sure"
....
"mm babe?"
"yeah"
"how about just a butt massage?"
"butt massage??"
"yeah. I could make the ache go away."
“Uh, okay sure.”

Strike three.


Next Chapter >>

JM: Young tilted head closeup
cyndrarae

Smallville: Penance (24/?) (Clark/Whitney)



<< Previous Chapter


Chapter 24


Monday 0515hrs

It was close to sunrise. Clark slept peacefully in Whitney’s arms in the barn.
Whitney was back on the cross.

Nigel and his bloody mouth.. Whit could have chuckled, if only he weren’t so.. so numb. Then the knife was coming down at him. In slow motion. The metal flashing amid the darkest night of his life.
This should be it. God please let it be it.
The knife came down towards his throat. But never landed.
Clark!
Whit could hear his screams echoing in the background. Was he still screaming?
“Clark! Clark! SIR ITS CLARK SIR!”
Clark grabbed the knife wielding arm and snatched the knife away.
Was he going to stab him instead? Guess not….
Clark.. Clark..
And Nigel was flying through the air.. landed on his ass. Ooh that must have hurt..
“You ok?”
Clark.. beautiful Clark.. in slow motion.
The screams, who is screaming? Who the HELL is screaming?
“God no Whitney!”
Yeah, poor Whitney.. poor naked tied to a piece of wood Whitney.. poor pathetic loser Whitney.. poor Whitney …
“CLARK SIR !! CLARK CLARK CLARK!!”
And the loud pops. Whooshing .. popping sounds.. not good. Silencers … shoot to kill..
BANG BANG!! Now that’s music.
The pain, the cold, the …Clark thing… standing so close… too close… poor Whitney poor Whitney… and more screams yet.. reverberating from all directions. “Clark sir its Clark!! No its Whitney. NO ITS CLARK! WHITNEY SIR ITS WHITNEY! CLARK CLARK CLARK!!!!”

“Whitney.. baby c'mon.. its okay”
Clark was shaking him frantically now. Whit was mumbling nonsense, sweating and unable to wake himself from the nightmare he was caught in. Clark located a pale of water and sprinkled some of it on Whitney's contorted face.
“Whit wake up!”
Whitney finally broke through. He struggled to get his bearings and with great perseverance managed to slightly open his eyes. The first thing he saw was Clark grabbing him into a choking hug.
“Uhhh C-Clar… cant breathe!”
Clark immediately let go. “I’m sorry.. I just.. damn you Fordman”
And gathered the boy to himself again. Gently this time, but firm enough to not let him leave if he tried.
Whit succeeded in smiling through the haze. He took in his surroundings and the warm body holding him and the greatest wave of relief washed over him. Clark had dressed but Whitney was still naked under the blanket. His head resting on Clark’s chest still hurt though and so did his throat as if.. he’d actually been screaming.. ?

“Was I.. did I wake you?”
“You scared me asshole”
“Sorry”
“You ought to be. Here I was, watching you sleep and fantasizing what I would do to you when you woke up to me.. instead you start thrashing like crazy and… ”
“and?”
“..well.. you.. you were screaming for me this time..”
Clark gently pulled at Whit’s soft hair to make him unbury his face from his chest and look up at him.
“what was it Whit?”
Whitney was still flushed and breathless with the experience. “It was.. a umm.. nightmare?”
“oh really?”
“Yeah”
Clark scowled at him and kissed him before continuing. “What did you see?”


Whitney didn’t want to recall any of it, but he did it for Clark. He sighed deeply.
“Usual… I was… on the cross.. and .. Nigel was there..”
Clark kissed his closed eyelids, feeling the trembling that never really subsided.
“you were there too..”
Clark continued to soothe his back.
Whit forced his eyes open to look up at his savior. “you know what was different this time?”
“what?”
“I… I don’t think I was afraid this time.. maybe less afraid.. it was like.. I knew you were there and .. I felt numb.. not even the pain. Really. I.. I was just being all loony that’s all.”
Clark looked at him intently.
“I think its getting easier..” When he said it, Whit meant it. It hadn’t been so bad this time.
“That’s good to know”
And Clark kissed him full on his lips. Whit kissed him back, feeling a lot lighter at heart than he had in the past few days.

“Come on we gotta get back home before our folks realize we’re missing.”
Clark brought Whitney his clothes and helped him dress. They finally gathered their stuff and made to move…
“Clark?”
“Yeah”
“He shot at you didn’t he?”

Clark stilled. For a second, he didn’t turn around to face Whitney. But then he did with a plastic smile in place.
“What makes you think that?”
The second’s pause had raised doubts in Whitney’s mind.
“I remember now. He pulled out a gun on you and he unloaded like an entire clip at you!”
….
“Where did the bullets go?”
….
“Clark?”
“I think you’re hallucinating Whitney.”
….
….
“It.. it didn’t feel that way.”
“It was a dream Whit.” Clark came towards Whitney, but on sudden reflex, the latter started back.
“Clark.. I am pretty sure that’s what happened.”
Clark bit his lip.

“Are you telling me that’s not what happened?”
“I think you’ve had a bad dream and its causing the delirium to come back. You were like this when I first found you Whit. I.. I guess we should get you checked out by Lex’s shrink as well.”
“What?” Whitney was angry now. He couldn’t be so wrong! Could he?
“Whit …”
“oh so now I’m crazy.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I saw what I saw. That sick bastard shot you multiple times and ..”
“And what Fordman?” Clark was angry too.
//Shit. Shit. Shit//
“If I had been shot multiple times like you say, should I not be close to dead or somethin'? Would I be standing here with you? You’ve seen all of me.. do you see any bullet holes on me that I don’t? Maybe on my back where I cant reach huh?”


Okay so freshman had a point. But.. Whitney was so confused. He didn’t know why he saw what he saw… maybe he was hallucinating after all. He turned away from Clark, shoulders sagged in surrender, and struggled to regain composure.
“I.. I guess you’re right. I must have been hallucinating.”

Clark wanted to die. He just wanted to cry and then die.
“..Whit”
He went to the boy and placed his hands tentatively on the shoulders. When the boy didn’t move away, he pulled him close and got him to lean back on him. Whit let him.
“I was.. it just.. felt so real.”
Clark brought his arms around the heaving chest.
“shhh… let it go Whitney. Just let go.”
“I wish I could.”

Clark knew he’d crossed the line now. Up until now he was just not speaking the truth to Whitney about that night. But now he was blatantly lying. Clark was breaking up inside. It hurt him physically to know that he wasn’t being truthful to any of his loved ones right now. And Whitney? Oh God. He’d practically told Whit that he was going crazy and needed psychiatric help! The confusion on Whit’s still marred face was too much to bear. Too much.

Whitney could feel Clark trembling around him. Naïve and so in love that he was, he blamed himself and his stupid hallucinations for having caused yet another argument between them. If he continued like this, he would soon push Clark away. He couldn’t let that happen. God no.

The boys supported each other for a long long time, each lost in their own murky depths of guilt and fear of losing the other.
“Clark I’m sorry”
“Shhhh Whit you don’t have to be. Please…”
“You’re not angry with me are you?”
“Jeez no Whit not at all!” Clark rocked him and kissed him with such desperation it only served to scare Whit more. But Clark didn’t let him say anything else.
“I’m just so happy to have you safe and alive. And here! With me! Do you know how grateful I am for that? I don’t know and I don’t care what happened that night and unless you wanna talk about it, I’m never gonna bring it up again okay?”
“But..” Whit began but stopped when he saw Clark was visibly disturbed. Swallowing the questions down, he nodded hoping this was the response Clark was looking for. He was right.
“Okay”
Clark was relieved and pulled him into his embrace again.
‘I love you. I love you so much!”
Whitney returned the embrace, holding and comforting Clark with all his might. But his questions remained unanswered, threatening to ruin the precious moment of peace between him and his love.
//Why did Nigel shoot himself? Why? He had a gun in his hands, he shot not me, not you, himself?//
//Why Clark? Why wont you tell me? What are you hiding?//
Whitney closed his eyes, suddenly exhausted. And he saw Nigel’s bloody arm dangling in Clark’s hand.

Clark walked Whit to his place first and then sped to get to his loft. Jumped into the shower, and cried…
until all the water was gone.

Whit reached home, still agonized, but too exhausted to think about it. He just wanted to fall into his bed and sleep for a month. When he reached his place, he saw the main door swinging. He hadn’t used the door, why was it open? Quietly he went in, knowing his mom must have left it open for him, which meant she knew he wasn’t in his room. Shit. He cursed himself as he walked in toward the living room. He sure had a lot of explaining to….

Someone grabbed him from behind and pushed him into the closest wall. One arm pressed into the back of his neck and the other wielding a gun, pointed right in his face. Whit was taken by surprise but soon as he realized what was happening, his survival instincts mixed with military training kicked in. He was about to react but when he did, it wasn’t to the assailant behind him, it was to the sight in front of his eyes.

His mom, still dressed in her night gown, was sitting on the couch, very quietly, her hands folded in her lap, shivering, staring at him, her eyes brimming with tears. She was scared.

And behind her, stood a man in black, his face covered in a black mask and only his eyes were visible, with a blade in his hands, placed at her neck.

And his mother whispered very very softly, “Whitney”
…….
“What do you want?”
…….
The guy behind him hissed into his ear. “Whitney Fordman. You just wont go away will you”

Danny Donner. Whitney could never forget that voice. He was filled with such intense rage but could do nothing for fear of his mom’s life.
“What do you want Donner” He repeated the question, his voice nothing more than a hoarse whisper.
“Only that you keep your mouth shut Fordman. Here’s the deal, me and my friends walk away from all this shit and you and your family gets to live. We had nothing to do with Nigel Mahaney you got that? We don’t even know him. Tell me you got that.”
“I got that.”
“Good. And if I get to know you’ve been breaking promises Whitboy…”
The guy nodded his head toward his partner. The man lowered the blade and slashed a blood line just above Betty’s right breast .. Betty gasped in pain.

“No! No! Stop it! I wont say a word I promise!”
Whitney was screaming and struggling but he couldn’t move, not because the guy behind him had a solid hold on him, but because if he did, the blade on his mother would move too.
“Easy Whitboy! We’re leaving now. Don’t you dare try any tricks.”
Craning the gun at him, Donner moved slightly away while the other guy ran toward the door fast as he could. Whit turned towards them, his face a mask of extreme hatred and uncontrollable rage.

The two guys ran out, got into a car and sped away. Whitney rushed to his mother who was beginning to weep and took her in his arms and kissed her with his tears and his desperation.
“Mom I’m sorry.. this is my fault”
He looked at the gash on her breast that she was trying to press away to nothingness but not succeeding.
“We gotta get you to a doctor”
He stood up to get her robe while Betty looked at him.
“Who were those people Whitney?”

Inside, he was breaking into a million pieces but he continued to run around getting her robe and the truck keys and the house keys. He was trembling violently, his nightmare had just exploded and engulfed his mom along with him into it. He was crying and angry and feeling utterly helpless, almost as if he were back on the cross again. But worse. Much more worse.
“Whitney please talk to me!”
He didn’t know what to tell her. So he didn’t.
“Whitney please… Whitney??”


Next Chapter >>

JM: Young tilted head closeup
cyndrarae

Smallville: Penance (25/?) (Clark/Whitney)



<< Previous Chapter


Chapter 25


At the Smallville Hospital, “What happened Mrs. Fordman?”
“Oh I uhh.. silly me.. I managed to cut myself with my own knife”
“On your breast? At five thirty in the morning?”
“Uhh.. I was kinda sleepy actually. I.. I get up at five every morning. I do! Was.. trying to make some ..fresh.. orange juice. I’m not sure myself how I managed to get cut here.”
“Must have been really sleepy huh?”
“..Yeah..”

Betty chatted with the nurse and looked up at her son, who was standing on the outside of the cubicle after the nurse turned him out while she worked on Betty. He stood there, miserable, close to breaking down, biting his lower lip till it bled, clasping himself to stop the trembling. Betty tried talking to him throughout the way to the hospital but he just wouldn’t tell her what was eating away at him. Anger? Fear? Guilt? Whatever it was he’d gotten himself into, it was slowly draining his innocence and filling him with such bitterness and rage. She was being driven to fearing the worst but she had to keep it all to herself. Whitney didn’t ask her to lie but she knew that’s what she had to do until he was ready to talk himself. She smiled away at the nurse and prayed silently.
//Holy Mother. Please look after my son.. give him peace. Give him peace.//

They came back home and Whit still hadn’t spoken a word. Once inside, Betty reached for him and sank into his arms. Whitney held her, restrained his tears and whispered softly,
“I’m sorry mom.”
“Shhh its not your fault. I know it isn’t”
If Whit earlier thought his mom was a weak woman, he now knew how wrong he was.
“Whitney if you need my help, you’ll ask for it wont you?”
Whit silently nodded into her hair.
“I know.. I know you think your mother is fragile and breaks easily but..”
“Mom no”
“that’s okay baby, I know you want to shield me, from.. whatever it is you’ve got yourself into..”
And she added with a sob she couldn’t stop, “You would’ve told your dad but you wouldn’t tell me!”
Whit looked at her, now crying himself. “Mom please… its not that.”
His features contorted with absolute misery. She didn’t want this. She kissed his face.
“Its okay.. shhh its okay.”
She wiped her own tears away and added in as composed a tone as she could manage,
“Do what’s right Whitney. Do what is Right.”
She hugged him once more and with much trepidation she let him go. Whitney heard his mother crying softly as she went upstairs into her room. He stood where she left him.

He didn’t move. He didn’t cry. He didn’t speak. He just stood and stared up at his mother’s closed door. After an eternity, he moved. Opened the door and stepped out.

Monday 0643hrs

Danny and Mark were driving toward the safehouse just outside of Smallville. This was Nigel’s hideout, where they’d brought and hidden Nigel’s car, the sedan the police hadn’t located yet. And this was where Nigel had brought and hidden the loot from their last big heist – at the Luthor bank. The stash they couldn’t afford to lose. The stash that would make them tremendously rich. The stash that if the authorities ever got to know about, they’d be serving multiple life sentences in twenty countries.

Nigel Mahaney was no cheap hustler. He was one of the elite in the murky world of hi-tech sophisticated crime. It was said he’d trained with the IRA in covert operations.
Almost covert that is.
His weakness for pretty boys could easily give him away. Leaving a trail of brutally tortured, raped and artistically butchered men doesn’t exactly count as covert. Everyone who knew him knew him to be ruthless and psychotic. But he’d still managed to escape the law, with the only conviction they’d ever been able to bring to him was for drunken assault. He generally operated alone which had worked quite fine for him, until he came to Smallville and hooked up with this bunch of social rejects to do his not-so-sophisticated work. And now he was dead.

The boys were scared shitless. Their mentor was dead, their friends were in jail. And if a connection was established between them and Nigel Mahaney, it might not be long before the police got to know about their deepest, darkest secret. Only one way to cut their losses and get out of this mess – and this was something Nigel would never have approved of.

“Luthor”
“Mr. L-Luthor, this is.. this is Danny Donner.”
….
“Mr Luthor you there?”
“Is this a secure line?”
“Yes sir this is an untraceable cell phone”
“I gave you strict instructions never to call me directly”
“Nigel is dead”
“Get to business. You have my package?”
“Yes sir.”
“Good. I’ll get back to you with details of the rendezvous.”
“S-Sir there’s .. there’s a problem.”
“What?”
“Two of my boys were arrested yesterday for.. for..”
“I’ll send someone to take care of it. Don’t you dare contact me again you got that?”
“Yes Sir!”
“Get to the safehouse. I’ll contact you when I need to.”
“Yes sir we’re al..” The line went dead.

Samuel Connor sure hated it when people disturbed his sleep. And here was some guy calling him incessantly for the past 15 minutes.
“YES!”
“Detective Connor?”
“YES!”
“This is Whitney Fordman. I.. I’d like to speak to you?”
Connor was wide awake now.
“Fordman? Uh sure. Why don’t you come by the Sheriff’s office by..” he looked at his watch. It wasn’t even seven. What's with this kid? He had to know.
“How about you come over by eight? I’ll meet you there.”
“Okay”
“Okay”
And Whitney hung up. This was going to be very very difficult for him. But one thing was for sure. He wasn’t gonna name Clark in the whole deal. No way.

Whitney wondered the streets of Smallville to vile away the time. He remembered the night before, and how beautiful it had been. He remembered Clark, his eyes, his hands, his lips, his strength, his warmth. Thinking of him, Whit could feel his touch, his mark on every tingling inch of his body and shed silent tears. He thought of his mom and lamented the pain he’d caused her in the past four days. He remembered his friends at the base, his dad’s hopes for him, his combat simulation programs.
//Boy am I gonna miss that//
His thoughts wandered back to his mom and he closed his eyes in inexplicable shame.
//I did this to her//
//It wasn’t your fault!//
//Sure about that?//
Whitney’s mind was in turmoil. But he knew he just had to get police protection for his mom and the only way to do it was admit to what really happened that night. He didn’t want to, and didn’t want to even think about what this could mean for his career with the marines. Right now, his mom was the only person he was concerned for.

Monday 0730 hrs

“Morning Lex”
“Clark? Aren't you supposed to be going to school?”
“Yeah.. Lex I need to see you. Its urgent. I.. I need your help again.”
“Its about the Fordman kid again?’
…..
“Its okay Clark. When do you want to come over?”
“As soon as possible. I could come in.. half an hour?”
“Hmm okay. I’ll be waiting.”
“Thanks Lex.”
“Let me help you first. Thank me later”
“Okay. I was just..” and the line went dead.
Clark so hated it when he did that. But right now, he was more thankful than anything. His thoughts wandered back to the boy he assumed was sleeping, and he hoped peacefully.
//Patience my love.. I’ll get us out of this mess.. I promise//

Lex Luthor kept the phone down and turned to his father.
"He's coming."
"What will you tell him?"
"Whatever you wish."
Lionel Luthor blew five hundred dollar cigar smoke into his son's face and smiled.

Monday 0800 hrs

At the Sheriff’s office, Whitney reached exactly at eight and went in. Connor wasn’t there yet. So he came out again, feeling relieved actually, intending to roam the streets a little while longer, going over his story over and over.. making sure there were no loopholes, and no suggestions that Clark was involved.
//He was torturing me Detective. I have the wounds to prove it. And he was about to rape me too.//
//How did you escape?//
//I convinced him that I wanted it as much as he did, and he undid the ropes. And then we had a fight and..//
//And you ripped his arm out?//
//Yes sir.//
//You want me to believe that you were injured and still you managed to ripped out his limb with bare hands?//
……

// I just lost it baby.. I was so … mad with rage and.. and pain! I felt physically pained.. and so angry and.. so.. in complete rage and …. just so…//
God Clark.

Whitney forced his thoughts back to his story.
//And then what happened Fordman?//
//And then he took out his gun and, just like that he.. he shot himself in the head.//
//Just like that?//
GAWD his story stank! No one was going to believe Nigel had a gun and he shot not Whitney but himself! How will he ever be able to get away with this? Unless.. he said what he was expected to say…
//And then he took out his gun and, he tried to shoot me… and we struggled and it went off… Nigel got hit.//
//That the whole truth boy?//
//Yes sir//

“Hello Whitney”
Whitney was interrupted by a soft voice and he turned to see where it came from. A young girl stood clutching a book to her chest, looking up through her bespectacled bewitched eyes.. at him.
//Officer Haley’s daughter.. Lisa was it?//
“Lisa?”
The girl couldn’t be happier. Well of course she could.. but Whitney Fordman.. the Whitney Fordman remembered her name! Right now she was the happiest she’d been all her life. And then Whitney smiled at her.
“How are you Lisa?”
“I’m.. I’m good. How are you Whitney?”
“Yeah. I’m good too. You’re a big girl now Lisa.”
Lisa was delighted. “Yeah? Yeah.. well I’m in eighth grade now.”
“Wow”
The two were walking in the direction of the school. His subconscious somehow chose to take him to his former high school, must have happened around the time he was wishing he could go back to when dad was around. Whit was too occupied to notice the awkward silence but the girl obviously wasn’t.
“So.. looks like you came back and brought the excitement back to Smallville huh?”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh you know.. the scarecrow murder?”
“Nothing exciting about murder Lisa.”
Lisa realized that was a wrong thing to say, and tried to make amends.
“You’re right. Nothing exciting about murder. Its.. just that.. you know I heard dad talking about it with mom and… everything is so weird about this case!”
//Tell me about it.//
“Yeah. Like what?”
“You promise not to tell anybody?”
Whitney frowned at the girl. “Okay”
Lisa looked like she’d explode if she didn’t get stuff out of her system. Might as well do it in front of him. He worried if she’d heard anything about him being discussed. Apparently not.

"This is just such a high-profile murder. Did you know that the Sheriff personally called a detective from Metropolis PD to look into this matter?
"Yeah. A Detective Samuel Connor."
"Yeah that's him. Dad is so pissed with him. Says his methods are way too odd for a small town like ours.
"Oh?"
"Yeah. Yesterday, he walks into the Smallville General hospital and demands to see old blood test reports or something, just like that.
Whitney felt his insides twist.
//Could he do that? It would be illegal wouldn't it, getting samples without a judicial warrant?//
And here he was about to put his life, not to mention his mom's life in his hands!
//That bastard!//
"I.. I guess they must know who the victim is then huh?"
"Hmm maybe. Dad didn't say"
Whitney was lost. He was so lost. He looked around for directions, didn't know which one he was meant to take. He looked at the girl next to him, and decided someone up there must still love him.. running into Officer Haley's daughter like this.. cant just be chance.

"Wow this is all very interesting Lisa. What else did you hear?"
“Okay so… did you know that the dead guy had his arm actually ripped out of his body? And the post mortem reports say it was done with bare hands or something!”
Whitney wanted to roll his eyes but he was too polite to do that to the little girl who he’d been told had had a massive crush on him when he was in school.
“Yeah I knew that. This was on the news.”
“Oh yes! It was.” and she got serious. “But this wasn’t.. did you know that they found flattened out bullets?”
Whitney froze. “Bullets?”
“Flattened out bullets!”
Like Whitney was missing out the whole point …..

Lisa continued, “Lots of them! Almost an entire .45 clip in fact. Apparently, the bullets were fired at something really hard or bullet-proof or something .. the bullets hit this thing and they just.. got flattened out! Makes you wonder what exactly they hit huh. But you know what's even weirder?”
The words were flowing away.
“The bullets were found just in front of the scarecrow. But there are no signs of any kind of heavy object or any object having been placed there at all! And also, the scarecrow is absolutely unscathed. Looks like someone put this something in front of the scarecrow to protect it.. rather whoever was tied to it.”

The world was spinning. There was no ground beneath his feet.
//He lied to me! He lied to me! //
…..

“Uhh Whitney?


(To Be Continued...)