Caught
(The Dreaming Is Free Remix)

Author: Alax

Original Story: Lost by Corinna

Summary: Lex helps chase away Clark's bad dreams

Rating: NC-17

Fandom: Smallville

Lost among the rows of corn, stalks grown so high that he can't see over them, he races through the field that just keeps going and going. He's naked, bare and exposed, toes catching on rocks and roots in the soil, tripping him, knocking him down or sending him stumbling further ahead. He's gulping breaths, but they don't help - he can't get enough air, but can't stop moving. Can't stop or slow or find a way out of the field, out of the endless circles of tall, brown and green stalks. Thin, towering sheathes, woven tight together and tangling in his legs and he trips and falls hard, pebbles digging into the thin flesh on his knees. The sharp knife-edges of leaves brush fast and thin against his skin as he pulls himself up and his eyes go wide at the open, gaping wounds, at the blood mapping his arms and legs, stomach and chest in thin, bright red streaks.

The sun is scorching overhead; it's high noon, an endless summer and he's sweating, slick and dripping, the salt of perspiration and the copper of blood mixing on his tongue when he licks out to wet dry lips. His sight's starting to blur from the exertion, from the terror of *forever* looming on the edge of his sanity. But he pushes on, keeps running, keeps going, muscles claiming movement and taking it, not waiting for the pain to catch up. Unfamiliar voices hiss, rasping among the corn, calling to him, looking for him, and he has to get away from them, has to find a way out. He urges his body on, knives stabbing his lungs as he drags in breath after breath, body shaking as he demands another burst of energy from his ragged, bloody limbs and he trips on something soft and thick, falling through another row into a wide, patterned circle of flattened cornstalks. Pushing earth from his mouth with a parched tongue, his mind aches with the dizzy, harsh reality before him.

"Clark."

He jumps to his feet, flying on pure adrenalin, and his mind chants, "*fly, fly, fly*", but there's nowhere to go but back into the stalks, back into the fray and he *wants* to go back, now, *needs* to go back. He turns, choosing the surety of pain and confusion over the unfathomable possibilities lying within the clearing, and something grabs his ankle. Icy fingers dig into flesh and crack the bones, yanking him down, and he opens his mouth to scream, but the words are replaced by earth in his mouth and sunburned cornstalks crackling against his face as he's covered, crushed, taken, lost under the body of death.

"*Clark. Wake up.*" The voice pulled him into consciousness, a tether that he gratefully followed back to the waking world. "Wake up for me. You're just dreaming."

He blinked, wet lashes fluttering on his cheeks as the soft voice puffed warmly behind his ear and strong arms wrapped around his chest. Clark collapsed back against Lex's familiar smoothness, his breath and mind winding down from their race, muscles taut and eyes squeezed tight until awareness worked its way up through all the layers of sleep.

Easing his eyes open, he braced himself on one elbow and turned around to look at Lex. "You're back?"

Lex's chin dug into his shoulder as he blinked slowly and answer over top of a yawn. "They didn't need me as much as they thought they did."

Clark couldn't help smiling at that. "Right," he said fondly, looking over at the clock. He hadn't been asleep long, but it was dark and the lights of the buildings on the other side of the city looked like fireflies in the night. Sinking back into his damp pillow, he swiped absently at the tickle of dream-blood lingering on his arm. "Did you drive home?"

Lex nodded, the soft slide of their skin, the friction of *contact* buzzing electric along Clark's back.

"I needed to unwind." Lex pulled him tighter against his chest and Clark squirmed back into the curve of his hips. Lex's voice was low against his ear. "I'm tired, Clark. I never get tired."

"Me too. Let's take tomorrow off." Sleep was trying to reclaim him, a thick blanket muffling his senses. The shiny white cinder block walls and thick wood furnishings of his dorm room blurred into the warmth of his mom's comforter and the soft, bare head burrowing against the back of his neck.

"We don't take days off." A sarcastic tone, but Clark could feel Lex smiling against his ear.

"We could." Clark glanced over his shoulder as the warm skin peeled away from his back and the bed dipped. The soft grind of metal of a flask's top being unscrewed made him turn his back again. "You don't need that."

"Not now, Clark." Lex's sigh was obvious and cutting, a direct affront to the silence of Clark's tense stillness on the bed.

He tried to close his ears as Lex's throat worked around the liquid.
"Okay." He shifted a little, his eyelashes brushing his pillow every time he blinked. "Was it that bad?"

He glanced over his shoulder to see him stretching to set the flask on the desk with an echo of metal clicking on wood.

"You have no idea."

But he did. He knew from the scent of brandy wafting through his cubed dorm room. He knew from the way Lex's belt buckle rang on the hard tiles of the floor, from the cloth that whispered down to join the belt and wasn't picked up or thrown over the back of his desk chair like always.

His body rocked backwards on the bed as Lex sat down. His shoulders were lower than they should be, and Clark rolled onto his back and reached up to cover them with his hands, hiding Lex's exhaustion from his own eyes. "You're here now, though."

Lex turned to him, tucked his feet under the edge of the sheet and sank down into the open arch of Clark's arms. "I'm here now."

Closing his eyes, Clark took a deep breath, drinking in the comfort and security that bled between them in a constant elliptical flow.

He opened his mouth, lips brushing against Lex's scalp to force out the question, but his tongue felt thick, the words stuck in his throat.

The head under his mouth tilted up, raised eyebrows creasing the smooth skin of Lex's forehead. "Was it the dream?"

Clark turned, letting Lex go, and shifted back, his spine curving in against Lex's chest, settling in to its fitted groove there. "I have a test tomorrow. We should go to sleep."

Hips hugging his own, Lex held him firmly, fingers raking through his hair, pulling one stray lock behind his ear. "We should."

Clark shook his head and the hair fell out of place again. "I don't think I can." He stilled, holding his breath and waiting.

The slightest movement against the flesh of one hip, and Lex's low laugh against his ear sent chills down his back. "I've always been a big fan of endorphins."

Clark turned his head a little, a smile curling the edges of his lips. "Mmmm?"

"Never mind." Lex propped himself up on an arm, looking down at him. "Bad joke."

Shadows played in the corners of the cheap tiled ceiling above them and Clark closed his eyes, his skin prickling and tightening as Lex leaned down to lick and suck gently on his neck.

His hands froze in place, fingers splayed out and digging into the sheet. He rolled under Lex's body, chin lifting as Lex mouthed his collar bone. He raised a leg and felt the hair on his knee tickle along Lex's thigh. The slick attention of Lex's mouth slid down his chest, closing hot and slow over one nipple.

His skin blistered under Lex's tongue, the heat crawling up over his body, flushing his face and tangling his thoughts.

The dream-sun dried his lashes and its warm rays pooled low on his body, concentrating the punishing heat low in his belly.

Clark shook his head, grasping for awareness, for anything but the red flashes of dream scenes behind his eyelids. Exhaling his held breath in a quick burst, a strangled, unintentional noise gave a voice to the tightening in his throat.

Lex knelt up between his legs, hands still and tight on his hips, the moist warmth slipping off of his chest. "Tell me."

He shook his head, mourning the wet line of ownership Lex's tongue had branded on his skin as it cooled and dried. "It's nothing, really." Clark opened his eyes wide and gave Lex his best reassuring smile. "Just that dream..."

"Was it me this time?" When he didn't answer, Lex started to move away. "We don't have to-"

"No." He slid his hand down the length of Lex's side, stopping his retreat.

This Lex never caught him. No, this Lex let him go, every single day, waiting to see if he would come back to him.

Fingers brushing Lex's cheek, Clark's hand slid into the spot just below Lex's ear. "No, it wasn't you."

Lex dipped his head, eyes closing and tension hazing the air around them as it dissipated.

"Are you sure?" The breeze of Lex's words sent chills spinning, circling around every vertebra in his spine.

"I'm sure," Clark bit his lower lip, a long blink giving him the pause he needed. "This is... exactly what I need."

"Me, too." Lex's tongue swirled in his ear, a tug on the lobe and the sharp tease of teeth clamped down on his shoulder.

"Slower." He gasped the word and when Lex's teeth loosed their grip on his flesh, Clark stretched up to capture red, concern-twisted lips, the smile that melted against his own mouth giving him license and confidence to pull away. "And stay with me after."

Lex's hand squeezed his hip right below the bone before rubbing a long, slow line up his chest and jaw, fingers threading into his hair. Lex's easy, patient smile reached the corners of his eyes. "I'll stay."

"Good..." Clark arched up, pushing against the mouth that sucked lazily down his chest, licking a circle around one hipbone before slipping wet across his belly to close over his cock. "...that's... good."

*****

He's falling back towards sleep, the dark comfort of unconsciousness rising up to swallow him, and he tucks himself a little closer into Lex. In the morning, there will be donuts and juice for breakfast, and if he's lucky, fast, painfully silent sex against the cool tiles of the communal shower wall. If he can find something for Lex to wear, he can show him the campus -- the street corner hot dog stand, the long expanse of stairs where he sits and listens to bits of every passing conversation, and the University newspaper office where Lex would be an instant hit and charm the pants off his advisor. But until then, in the muddy air of night, there is only the warmth of their bodies and the gentle whir of the ceiling fan, and him, and Lex. He lets himself be pulled down, gently and slowly, without resistance, heavy limbs lightened by the promise of cool, clear sleep.

End

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to their owners/creators/copyright holders. This fan-written fiction intends no infringement on any copyrights.