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story art by Philtre

Lex sat in the worn, cushioned chair across the den from Clark and watched him grin and stare at Looney Tunes re-runs on the television with rapt attention. Only Clark could pull off that level of glee and not appear retarded. Jonathan sat next to his son with his arm stretched across the back of the sofa, his hand rested in fatherly affection on Clark's shoulder.

Martha was rattling around in the kitchen and Lex wondered if he shouldn't go and offer to help again. At least he would have an excuse to leave the room. Sometimes the wholesome relationship between Clark and Jonathan made him nauseous. He'd never nown that kind of family, that kind of closeness. But worse than that, sometimes he found himself sneering at the Kent traditional family values.

It was those times that fear would tighten in his chest and his eyes would search out the man he loved, fasten on him and he'd waver between planning a strategic escape to some place safer, like to Martha and the kitchen, or telling his disturbed inner child to take a fucking chill pill and stick it out.

When Clark and Jonathan laughed simultaneously and Jonathan's hand clenched on Clark's shoulder, shaking him companionably, Lex's inner child won out and he stood up turning toward the kitchen.

"Lex?"

"Just going to check on your mom, Clark."

"Okay."

Lex didn't turn around but could tell by Clark's tone that his face would clearly state that Lex was full of shit. Clark probably knew what was up. Although it had taken him many years to get that good at reading Lex. For a long time Clark had been the most clueless human - Lex didn't resist an inner chuckle - to ever live.

The scent of the turkey and sweet potatoes made his mouth water as he walked toward the kitchen island. He sat on a stool as Martha nodded a greeting and smiled sympathetically.

She plugged in the electric mixer preparing to blend something that would apparently be filling the pie crusts on the counter. Lex was fairly certain that the pies should have been made first.

"You didn't make those earlier?"

Martha smiled. "Oh. I made the pies for our dinner earlier. These are for you to take back to Metropolis."

"Mrs. Kent, I appreciate it, but you really didn't need to..."

"For Clark," she interrupted.

Lex chuckled. "Oh. Well, in that case, by all means, make a dozen or so."

He was still getting used to Clark's parents being "in the know" about Clark living with him. Clark had finally convinced Lex that it was unfair to let the Kent's pay for a dorm room he never stayed in.

Lex had never been so terrified as the day they had driven from Metropolis to the farm with the express purpose of coming out to Clark's parents. He'd actually vomited at two gas stations along the way. He was still humiliated by that, even though Clark had insisted that it was adorable.

It was even more humiliating to be called 'adorable' for vomiting.

Clark had laughed at his embarrassment and said, "I swear to God, I won't tell the CEOs of LexCorp's competitors that to psych you out, all they have to do is to force you to tell my parents that you love me."

Then Clark had teased him, claiming to be insulted that Lex found the thought of telling other people how he felt about him so repulsive. It hadn't helped his nausea at all.

That was three months ago.

This was not the first Thanksgiving or holiday that he had spent with the Kent family, but it was the first where everyone was on the same page about his relationship with Clark. Well, except for the alien thing. Clark hadn't wanted to tell his parents that he'd told Lex about that. He'd said it would just complicate matters.

Over the whir of the mixer, Lex missed the sound of Clark entering the kitchen and he yelped when arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him off the stool.

Martha turned the mixer off and cast a glance their way, smiling softly.

Lex tried to regain his dignity while being dangled an inch off the floor, his back pressed to Clark's chest and his hands prying uselessly at Clark's arms around his waist.

"What are you doing, George?" Clark asked affectionately and with an obvious grin in his voice.

"George?"

Martha looked over at him and chuckled. She smiled at her son and said, "Oh, he's George is he? I guess that makes you Lenny?"

"Of Mice and Men?" Lex asked, still not following.

"No. Of Looney Tunes."

George. Of Looney Tunes. Of course. Because that made so much sense.

But Lex was more worried about that fact that he was still being dangled and held against Clark's chest like a big doll.

"Clark put me down before your dad comes in here."

"But I like hugging you, George."

Martha smiled a little, as though she found something pleasing, but sobered quickly. "He's right, Clark. Your dad has been on his best behavior and there is no reason to push it."

Clark sighed. "Okay, fine."

He pulled Lex's stool out some more with a foot and plopped Lex down on it before sitting down next to him. Clark reached out to try to snatch a taste of the steaming sweet potato casserole his mother had just removed from the oven. She slapped his hand away giving a meaningful look towards Lex. Clark just raised his brows and Martha's brows shot up in turn.

So much for not telling Clark's parent's about Lex knowing he's an alien. Martha fixed Lex with a stern expression that he pretended not to understand.

"Explain the Looney Tunes reference, please. I'm not sure how I feel about this 'George' thing."

Clark grinned. "It's my new nickname for you. I just decided."

"Your 'new' nickname? What was your 'old' nickname for me?"

Clark smirked with a wicked gleam in his eye. "I can't say. You wouldn't like it."

"Baldy? Jerk? Asshole?" Lex guessed idly.

Clark's grin grew wider which wasn't humanly - Lex laughed inwardly again - possible.

"No. None of those."

"So, how long have you had a secret nickname for me? Why did you decide to give it up and why did you choose a new one that isn't so secret?" Lex asked sharply with narrowed eyes, pretending to be suspicious.

"I gave you the secret nickname when I was fifteen."

Lex was seriously intrigued. "What is it?"

Clark shook his head, "I'm not telling."

"You are so full of shit. You never had an old one."

"You aren't going to trick me into telling you that easily, Lex."

Lex shifted on his stool and gazed at Clark as though he could pick the 'old' nickname out of Clark's head if he could find a way to climb into Clark through his eyes.

"Okay."

Clark's smile faltered just a little. "Okay? You aren't going to try to figure it out?"

"I know what it is."

Clark's face was incredulous. "How?"

"I know you very well, Clark. You don't think I could figure something simple like this out?"

Clark's mouth fell open a little. "You don't know. You can't know."

Lex lifted his brow and turned his attention back to Martha.

Clark sat silently for a moment and then sighed. "Fine. Tell me what it was then."

"Why should I tell you when you already know and I'm not sure I want Martha to hear it. Don't you think it would be embarrassing?"

"You don't know."

Lex sighed. "I have my ways. I know, Clark."

"You read my journal?"

Lex shook his head. "I'd never do that. But you did leave something lying around and I've put two and two together. You're just lucky that your mom's here and I'm keeping my claws in today."

Clark's eyes went huge. "Oh my God. You do know. How could you know?"

Lex smirked. "I'm just that good."

Jonathan walked into the kitchen and moved around his wife to pour some coffee.

"Anyone else like some coffee?" Jonathan looked at Clark and Lex.

"Sure, Mr. Kent." Lex smiled and nodded. Jonathan graced him with a grimace-like smile that had grown less hostile over the years, but still retained a good dose of disdain for Lex's heritage.

Clark shook his head 'no' when his dad asked him again and then turned his attention back to Lex.

"You know I didn't mean anything insulting by it, right?"

Lex was starting to itch now that Jonathan was standing there listening. He hadn't minded Martha's presence, he was used to her from the years when she worked with Lionel, but Jonathan listening to them, watching them, made him jumpy. He was sure he would say or do something wrong.

Especially since he was entirely out on a limb here and playing Clark for all he was worth. He had no clue what the nickname could have been, but obviously it was something that worried Clark to think that Lex knew.

"Because even when I made it up, Lex, I loved you as a friend and I wasn't trying to be hurtful."

Lex turned his gaze back to Clark and was genuinely touched to see the worry on Clark's face but, damn...now he really wanted to know the secret nickname.

"It's okay Clark. I know you didn't mean anything by it."

"I mean, I just liked calling you 'Kitten' because it was...well, it fit you."

Lex choked on his coffee. "What? I mean, how? I mean...explain that." He sputtered and it was quite obvious that he was shocked.

Clark's eyes narrowed. "You didn't know."

Lex turned on him and gritted out, "Kitten?"

Clark turned to his mother and made an appeal for her intervention.

"Mom, Lex lied! He said he knew!"

Clark's whine sounded like the five year old Lex's assistant Marilyn brought into the office when the kid was sick.

Martha shrugged and seemed to be fighting back convulsive laughter. Clark sighed, he didn't bother to turn to his father, but Lex looked. Jonathan held his ceramic mug so tightly his knuckles were white and he too seemed to be choking on his laughter.

Lex was going to kill Clark.

"Kitten, Clark? Kitten?" Lex's voice lowered to a dangerous tone.

"Yeah. I like 'George' better, though." Clark had moved on, trying to shrug it off.

Lex clenched his teeth together and swallowed hard. He was losing more and more dignity in front of Clark's parents.

Clark would pay for this - in large bills.

"It fit me? I am nothing like a kitten, Clark. Nothing."

"You are, Lex! You really are!" Clark's eyes were wide and honest. He turned to his mother. "Isn't he, Mom?"

Martha still struggling with keeping a straight face held up her hands as though to say, "You're on your own."

"Dad? Don't you see it?"

Jonathan sighed heavily and said, "I'm going to go out to the barn, call me when dinner is ready."

He plodded toward the kitchen door and let it bang behind him. But Lex heard the laughter as Jonathan tramped off the porch.

Clark was talking again.

"You're frisky," Clark made a pawing motion in the air with his hands, "...and quick and funny when you don't mean to be. Oh! And finicky and arrogant, but still lovable and sweet. And you only like it when people stroke you a certain way...although I didn't really know that then, I meant it more symbolically at the time."

Lex's eyes were huge, his mouth open in astonishment and he would've cared so much more if Jonathan were here to see his reaction, but since he wasn't, Lex let it all hang out.

"Frisky? Sweet?" He swallowed hard. "Funny when I don't mean to be?"

Clark rolled his eyes. "Yes, George, funny when you don't mean to be. Like now."

A giggle escaped from Martha. Lex shot her a look but she missed it and he was glad, because she really didn't deserve it. He turned back to Clark.

"Well, first off, Clark, kittens have hair. I have no hair."

Clark sighed. "George, shut up about it now. It's all in the past anyway. I have a new nickname for you and it's a good one."

Lex shook his head. "So - you're telling me that you've referred to me as 'Kitten' in your head since you were fifteen years old?"

"Lex, I think you are fixating on this too much. I think you need to let it go."

Martha chuckled again and three timers went off simultaneously.

"Dinner is ready, boys. Go get your father, Clark."

"Clark, if you've been calling me 'Kitten' since you were fifteen, why did it take you until your freshman year at Met U to figure out that you're gay?"

Clark pulled the quilt up over Lex more fully. Sharing his small bed with Lex while his parents slept down the hall was pretty creepy and oddly exciting. He sat up a little and looked down to make sure Lex's feet were covered. He didn't want him getting cold in the night.

"Because I'm Lenny and you're George. But don't call me Lenny, okay? I don't like it."

Lex shook his head. "Lenny ends up dead in a ditch. I'd never call you Lenny."

Clark crinkled his brow. He hadn't read Of Mice and Men, he'd read Huckleberry Finn instead. Chloe had made fun of him for his choice, everyone knew that Huck Finn was a much longer book.

"I thought the Abominable Snowman was modeled after Lenny?"

Lex's face scrunched up in the cute way it did when he was perplexed.

"I am tired of answering your questions with questions tonight, Clark, but what the hell does the Abominable Snowman have to do with it?"

"He's a Looney Tunes character and he's not exceptionally bright - like Lenny."

"But, Clark, you are exceptionally bright." Lex's eyes drifted closed and his voice became husky.

"I know. I'm just not real fast on the uptake sometimes when it comes to human interaction." Clark propped up on one elbow to admire the fair eyelashes resting on Lex's cheek and the sweep of cheekbone and jaw.

"But, Clark, you're not human...ever thought of that?" Lex's voice was barely a whisper now and his sinewy body flexed in a sleepy stretch.

"I've given it a thought or two over the last six years, yeah."

Lex chuckled. The quilt slipped off of his shoulder and Clark studied the white skin and flecks of freckles, pushed his eyes on through to the tendon, bone and muscle. He loved the way Lex was put together.

Blinking back into regular focus, he settled in to sleep, spooned behind Lex.

He nuzzled Lex's ear and breathed, "I'm going to love him and hug him and squeeze him and call him George."

"Hmm?" Lex was clearly drifting away for the night.

"That's what the Abominable Snowman says...that's where I got your nickname."

Clark laid his own head on the pillow and closed his eyes. He could hear his parents breathing down the hall, already asleep. Lex's heartbeat and pulse soothing next to him, drumming out the rhythm that rocked him to sleep every night.

"Do you like your new nickname, Lex?"

Lex sighed and whispered, "God, Clark, anything is better than 'Kitten'."

Clark was drifting off to sleep when he heard Lex hiss and felt short fingernails clawing into his arms. He nearly jerked away, afraid that he had somehow hurt Lex.

But Lex stopped and patted Clark back into place behind him.

"Sorry, my inner kitten got free for a minute. I apologize. Go back to sleep."

See? Woobie. See? Cliche. See? Silly.

But *sigh* it was oh so nice to write.

::hugs::

Oh and beware of those bed bugs. Nighty Night.

Oh yeah! Thanks to Slodwick for the IM help tonight. She helped with the nickname and a certain hand gesture. Gracias, chica.