Comfort
by Kel

Spoilers for Shimmer

"I don't think you give her enough credit. She's strong. She probably understands better than anyone." Clark saw Whitney's lost expression, couldn't reconcile the raw emotion he saw there with the jock who'd "scarecrowed" him, and Clark jerked up his bookbag as he turned to leave the cafeteria.

Whitney let Clark leave the cafeteria, wanted to let him leave completely, but he couldn't. He hated it, but he needed Clark. Running to the door, he caught sight of the boy at the end of the hallway. "Kent!" Clark stopped at the shout of his last name and turned to see Whitney running down the hallway towards him. He waited for the quarterback to catch up to him, and then started walking. Whitney walked beside him in silence for a while, then finally spoke. "Don't tell Lana, okay?"

Clark sighed. "I really think you should tell her."

"C'mon, Kent." Whitney shifted his backpack nervously.

"All right. I promise I won't tell Lana. But you have to, Whitney, or you're going to lose her."

"Why are you doing this, Kent?" Whitney asked, stopping Clark with an arm across his chest. "I know how you feel about Lana."

Clark looked at Whitney, who seemed completely confused. "Lana's my friend, Whitney. And she wants to be with you. Whenever we're together, all she talks about is how great you are. You're hurting her, and that's just not right."

At that, Whitney sagged against the lockers. "I don't want to hurt Lana. She's the only one who cares enough to listen."

"Not the only one," Clark replied, keeping his eyes on Whitney.

"Why?"

"Because Lana loves you," the young man answered. "Because you make her happy. And I think we could be friends." Clark reached out and put his hand on Whitney's arm.

Whitney was startled by the tender touch. It was something he was used to getting from Lana, and finding the same gentle caring from another source--Clark "Boy Scout" Kent--was confusing to say the least. "I... don't know what to say."

"How about... thanks?" Clark gave him a small smile and a playful squeeze to the arm.

"Thanks, Clark." As the boy's smile widened, Whitney was shaken to realize that Clark was quite attractive. He shook his head to try and clear it, and when he opened his eyes, Clark's hand had moved to his shoulder.

"You really okay, Whitney?" Clark's voice was full of concern as their eyes met.

"No," Whitney whispered. "I'm not okay at all. I'm angry, I'm worried about my dad... I'm confused." For a brief moment, Whitney let his guard down. "Help me, Clark," he asked softly. "I need your help."

"How can I help you?" Clark whispered back. "I want to help you."

Whitney looked around and then dragged Clark into the empty science lab. Adjacent to the lab was a small, windowless storage room and Whitney pulled Clark into it. He closed the door and locked it, then leaned against it as he contemplated Clark. "I'm--sick of being alone," he said quietly. "I love Lana, but... I need more. I need to touch someone and know that I'm not alone in the world."

Clark read between the lines and dropped his own bookbag as he stepped close. Whitney let Clark embrace him, and soon the blond quarterback had his own arms twined around Clark. "It's okay, Whitney, you're not gonna break me."

Whitney tightened his arms around Clark, using the strength that he couldn't with Lana. And Clark was hugging him back, just as strongly. "Clark, I..."

"I know," Clark answered back softly. "I know how it is to need something, to want something from someone who doesn't even know you need it, and you don't know how long you can wait before it eats you up inside."

Whitney nodded. "That's it exactly. How did--"

"You're not the only one, Whitney."

"It's not--" Whitney asked, only partly fearful.

"No, it's not Lana."

"I wasn't going to ask about Lana," Whitney said, looking at Clark.

"It's not you, Whitney, I'm sorry."

"Don't be... I'm glad it's not, because then we can have this and not hurt each other." He paused. "I don't want to hurt you again."

"I know." Clark met the kiss that Whitney was offering. Their lips met, and then Clark made the next move, opening his mouth and letting his tongue slide sensually against Whitney's. Clark was surprised to be the aggressor, but he didn't stop. Slowly and steadily, Clark pushed Whitney backwards until he had the quarterback pinned against the wall. Whitney surrendered as Clark's hands pulled his shirt out, and he moaned softly as Clark's smooth hands moved over his chest. "Tell me to stop," Clark whispered. "Tell me and I will."

"Don't stop," Whitney answered immediately. He didn't want to stop this, he didn't want to stop feeling things that Lana had never stirred in him.

Clark nodded once in acknowledgement and nipped through Whitney's shirt as he gracefully slid to his knees. As he slid down, he opened the fly of his lover's jeans and slipped his hand inside. Whitney shivered at the touch as Clark gently guided the half-hard flesh through the opening. Stroking the length, Clark licked the head slowly, watching Whitney's reaction, being guided by his soft moans and touches.

Whitney's fingers tightened in Clark's flannel shirt as he sucked. He felt Clark's hands close over his, and then Clark directed them to his hair. As soon as his fingers slipped through the silken strands, Clark's hands moved to grip Whitney's ass tightly, using the new leverage to bring the cock in his mouth deeper.

As Clark's strong hands firmly kneaded his ass, Whitney was hit with the sudden urge to control at least one thing going on in his life, and his hands tugged hard in Clark's hair. Using the handholds, Whitney began to brutally fuck Clark's mouth, and the dark-haired boy allowed it--encouraged it, even, by rocking his entire body in tandem. As easily as he'd taken control of the encounter, he gave it over to Whitney. The thrusts became harder, more vicious, and Clark took it all, whimpering in encouragement. Whitney looked down to see Clark, eyes shut, sucking his cock as he stroked himself off. The look of pure abandonment and ecstasy on Clark's face caused Whitney to jerk Clark's head down to the base of his cock, coming hard. Clark swallowed greedily, slowly stroking himself off to the sated smile on Whitney's face. Clark tucked Whitney back into his jeans, and then took the offered tissue to clean himself off.

"Who is it, Clark?" Whitney asked, feeling oddly protective of his new friend/lover. "I can talk to her--"

Clark smiled sadly, sitting on his heels. "It's not a her, Whitney."

"Then tell me who he is, Clark. Or... is it a certain rich, bald guy?" Clark nodded. "So why is he pushing Lana at you... unless he doesn't know, does he?"

"No. And if he felt the same way, he wouldn't be pushing Lana at me all the time."

"We've all seen the way Lex looks at you when he thinks you're not looking, Clark. You say I need to talk to Lana? You need to talk to Lex." Whitney pulled Clark to his feet. "You deserve better than something like this."

Clark blushed. "So do you, Whitney." He picked up his bookbag and unlocked the door, then turned back. "But that's not why I did it." He turned to leave, but Whitney stopped him before he left the room.

"I know why, Clark. Thank you. For being there when I needed a... friend?"

Clark smiled warmly, and put his hand on Whitney's shoulder. "Yeah, Whitney. Friend."

The End