Colours

Colours
Chelle
Myangelgirl30@yahoo.ca
May 2003

Disclaimers: I own nothing. If I owned them, they would never see the light of day, and I would be a much happier Clexfan.

Spoilers: none really

Rating: PG, but just for some hints at sexuality

Summary: Clark doesn't have to choose

AN: First try, be gentle. Also, thanks to Green Queen, my lovely slash princess beta. All mistakes left over are my own.

Feedback: A good GOOD thing. I'm not above begging for it, either. *g*

Pastels

Lana was all pastels. Baby pink, sky blue, pale purple. Her clothes, her makeup.....all of her. She was safe when Clark needed safety. He had loved her as long as he could remember, but when he finally had her he found out that he didn't really like pastels. He didn't want kisses that tasted like bubblegum lip gloss, hands soft and gentle in all the places he needed a hard touch.

She cried when he told her it was over. Transparent tears over pink cheeks, pink lips. Tears that stained the baby blue sweater and made her look even more fragile than before. She asked him why the people she loved always leave her. He told her truthfully that it really wasn't her, that she would make someone very happy someday.

He didn't tell her who he thought could make him very happy someday.

Primaries

Chloe was like the primary colours. Bold, brash, right in your face. Red cherry lips, blue eyes, yellow hair: she was an artist's dream. For a while, Clark thought she was his dream, too; but she wasn't. He loved her as long as he could, he really did. Her kisses were harder, her hands more confident, taking what she wanted, what he was willing to give. She gave to him, as well. She was harder than Lana, but in the end, she still wasn't hard enough.

She cried when she told him it was over. Tears that made her dark red shirt darker, her blue eyes more blue. He didn't understand at first, he thought things were going well. He'd thought she was happy. She was strong when she told him that she was happy, just not happy enough, and that she knew that she was not what he needed to make him happy.

He didn't tell her who he thought could make him happy, but she knew. She had known long before he did.

The Rainbow

Lex was all the colours, pale and strong alike. He was also everything in between, as well as every shade of grey Clark had ever seen. Pale skin, light eyes, red lips.

Dark purple bruise on his neck where Clark had sucked a little too hard, but it was worn with pride. Dove grey sweater, long since discarded, tossed carelessly on the floor, followed by charcoal pants and lilac boxers. They mixed with Clark's own jeans, t-shirt and flannel in a way that looked impossibly right. Lex's hands are strong, stronger than Clark even knew he needed. His kisses are deeper, reaching parts of Clark that he didn't know needed to be touched.
Lex laughed when Clark told him that he wanted him. He laughed a real laugh, the first one Clark had heard in a long time. Then he had an armful of Lex, kissing with those deep kisses, murmuring something that sounded a lot like "It's about time, Farmboy", hands gripping firmly where other hands had always been too delicate. And then Clark laughed too, and realized that yes, it really was about time, and they were both happy, and they were both happy with each other.

Lex was every colour Clark ever wanted or needed, and everything before him faded to white. Lex was his rainbow, and Clark would never have to settle for just one group of colours again.

~fin~