Knight Fantasy

Knight Fantasy
Flora Winters
I do not own Smallville.
Summary: Clark’s now famous childhood friend returns to Smallville and his semi-normal existence is turned upside down. What’s an alien to do? This fiction will contain language, MM, and OC.

Chapter Nine

Zak was lounging on Clark’s bed while the farmboy was at school for the day. Aunt Martha and Uncle Jonathan were out tending to some work in the fields, leaving him to watch the house. They had been gone for some time and Clark would not be home for another hour.

He had his nose buried in his pillow, sniffing the scent that was Clark Kent. It was the smell of apples and something darker. Oh, it was driving him mad.

He closed his eyes, sniffed once more, imagining how Clark had held him around the waist when they had been riding Meteor. He had held onto him so firmly and his hands were so big. He wanted to feel them touching every inch of his squirming body.

Oh, this was bad! He was longing for his best friend in a way that was not friend-like at all. It was naughty and he was blushing redder than the scent of apples he smelled.

He wanted to feel Clark’s lips pressing firmly against his own, tasting each other with their dueling tongues. Just the thought made him moan with want and frustration.

He sat up, blowing his loose locks from out of his eyes, and looked at the picture frame that was setting on top of Clark’s dresser. It was a picture of him and Clark laughing as they tried to spray each other with the same water-hose. The memory made him smile.

He gazed around the room, feeling a little bored. That was when he actually decided to do some snooping. He wanted to see if Clark had any dirty magazines that he secretly looked at. It would be funny to see the look on the farmboy’s face when he came strolling in, finding him leisurely flipping through one of them.

In his mind, he doubted that Clark would ever think to buy such things. But, he was bored. So, he got to snooping.

“Oh my goodness,” he said, bumping into Clark’s underwear drawer, opening it as if it were by accident. “Well since its open, I’d better check and make sure all is in order.”

The only thing he found in the drawer was white undies and a broken yoyo. He snooped around some more and then decided to write because his muse had suddenly bitch slapped him across the face with her rock filled purse of inspiration.

99999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999

Clark was sitting at his desk, looking at the clock on the wall that was slowly ticking the seconds by. It really did feel like he was going to be there for forever. Why couldn’t the stupid thing tick the seconds by faster?

Math was his last subject for the day and it was the most boring class ever. Mr. Smith would drone on and on about how pies are square and circles are perfect. It made his head spin. The pies his mom always made were round. Oh, he wanted to throw his desk through the board!

He looked over to see that Pete was secretly reading a magazine he had hidden in his textbook on dirt bikes. Lana was looking out the window with a lazy expression on her face, and Whitney (jerk!) was nodding off.

He began to tap his finger on the top of his desk, wishing for the bell to ring already. He looked at the board, seeing a big long number that looked like a frigging sentence.

3.141592654

Apparently that was pie.

His right eye twitched.

999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999

I’m dying to catch my breath
Oh, why don’t I ever learn?

Zak looked the words over, humming the tune as they came to his mind. It wasn’t going so very well at all. Perhaps his muse had performed a hit and run and was taking a bubble bath without him, again.

His mind was just too full to concentrate. All he could think about was the way Clark had held him while they had been riding Meteor.

He wanted Clark, but knew he could never have him the way he wanted. His parents would flip the hell out and Clark’s parents would probably never let him see Clark again. He just had to be content with what he already had.

Oh, it was maddening! He wanted to ram a fist made of boiling hot water into someone’s stupid face for making homosexuality a sin. Who the hell came up with that shit? Oh, he hoped they were burning in their own personal Hell right now. He hoped their floor, ceiling, and walls were nothing but snakes, and needles were flying around with wings like deadly dragonflies. If the bastard so much as moved, he would be stung fifty trillion times.

Oh, he wanted to scream and hurt the bitch himself. Why couldn’t people preach about what Jesus said? They were Christians, right? Preach what Jesus said, not what the Old Testament preaches. That hateful shit was blown to Hell when Jesus took his last breath on the cross he died on. The vengeful God died and Jesus took over after he tripped out of the tomb, well, it was more of a graceful stumble really. Feed all the words in black to the cleansing flames and keep the words in RED!

He put his face against Clark’s sheets and smiled. He imagined himself being held by Clark under them. He pulled the shiny quarter out of his pocket and held it in his open palm. It sparkled in the light.

He knew that magic was real, but, it had no power over the human heart. All the books and movies said so. Plus, it would be wrong to wish for Clark to love him. It would be selfish, and he would never know if it was for real or not. So, no love spells!

Maybe he could explain to Clark how he felt about him. Couldn’t it be possible that Clark felt the same way? They were really close.

He shook his head. That was a joke and nobody was laughing. He could see Clark punching him, telling him to never speak to him again.

I’m dying to catch my breath
Oh, why don’t I ever learn?
I’ve lost all my trust that I’m sure we try to
Turn it around

His heart would shatter if that were to ever happen. He would literally die if Clark ever hated him. He knew it was melodramatic, but, it would utterly destroy him.

No!

Clark would never ever hate him. They were too close for that. Hell, they held hands while they slept for crying out loud!

He closed his eyes, putting his nose to Clark’s pillow once more. Oh, he was such a creepy little blond that was prettier than Satan’s sin.

No!

He wasn’t creepy. He loved Clark. He was in love with him. There was nothing wrong with it.

Fuck you, Old Testament! Fuck you and your hatred and vile ways! The people who wrote you are bitches and need to die over and over in a Hell that was repetition.

He needed to stop cursing. It was blackening his soul.

He loved him with all his heart. Hell, he would do anything for Clark. ANYTHING!

He was in agony and it hurt. He wanted to cry and he couldn’t.

That was when it hit him. The song would be a prayer to Clark.

He was such a genius!

Can you still see the heart of me?
All my agony fades away
When you hold me in your embrace

These were his feelings. They were pure and filled with his love. The words were written down as they poured from his mouth like a silver fountain of inspiration. It looked like his Muse’s vagina was enjoying her bubble bath.

He loved Clark and that’s all that really mattered. Love is all that matters. Isn’t that what Jesus preached before he was killed for being so nice? He would hold what he already possessed close to his heart and treasure it.

Don’t tear me down
For all I need
Make my heart a better place
Give me something I can believe
Don’t tear me down
You’ve opened the door now
Don’t let it close

He couldn’t help but to smile as the tears trickled down his porcelain cheeks like a gentle rain. A few fell onto his writing paper and it made him laugh like silver bells. A prayer should make one weep in happiness.

“Hey,” a voice called to him from the door. “What are you singing?”

Clark!

He quickly wiped the tears from his eyes and turned to give him a white grin.

“A new song,” he said, sitting up. “It just came to me.”

“I could hear you from all the way down in the kitchen,” Clark laughed. “It’s very pretty.”

“Really?” Zak asked with hopeful eyes. “Do you really mean that?”

Clark nodded his head. “I wouldn’t lie.”

“What do you want to do after you get your chores done?” Zak asked, wanting to change the subject.

Clark leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest. It made him look like a predator and it caused Zak to lose his breath. He was on Clark’s bed after all. This was Clark’s territory. His scent was on everything. It was probably on him, too.

“Take a nap, do my homework,” he said, looking at him with those penetrating blue eyes. “Where is mom and dad at?”

Zak let his breath out in a puff of slight disappointment. He had mentally imagined Clark pouncing on him like a giant cat, shredding clothes in all directions. “They are out in the fields.”

Clark nodded. “Do you want to come out to the loft and work on your song while I work?”

Zak smiled. “Sure.”

He watched the farmboy kick his sneakers off and got to his closet to find his work boots. He looked away when Clark bent over to retrieve them. Oh, he had such a nice butt.

“Come on,” Clark said, slipping his feet into them.

Zak nodded and followed him down the stairs. He hadn’t bothered to put shoes on.

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Zak was sitting on a bell of hay, watching Clark lift and carry each one to a storing stall. He had offered to help, but Clark wouldn’t allow him to. He was the guest and the guest was supposed to be a lazy cow. At least, that’s what he felt like.

“Come on, Clark,” he said, listening to the feed fall into the buckets. “At least let me help you feed the moo burgers.”

Clark snorted and turned to look at him in amusement. “Moo burgers?”

Zak nodded, hopping to his feet.

“But, the buckets are really heavy,” Clark said, holding two of them by their handles.

“Give me one,” Zak said, reaching, and snatching one from the blue eyed boy. It was heavy, but he wasn’t weak. He could carry his own.

Clark gawked as Zak carried it out the double doors. He quickly followed after him, noticing that it looked like it might rain soon.

“Hey!” Zak yelled, causing Clark to look. “Let go of my hair, you cow!”

Clark could only stand there, watching in amusement. It looked as though Bluebell had found the blond to be irresistible, too.

“Clark,” Zak whined, looking at him with pouting lips and pitiful green eyes, as the heifer munched on his locks. “Aren’t you going to throw on your cape and save me?”

Clark sat his bucket down, sprinting over, and making her let go with a yummy handful of corn. He looked at the blond who had cow slobber running down his smooth cheek. It made him laugh and the face Zak was giving him made him laugh even harder.

“My Super Farmboy,” Zak said sarcastically, making a face at Bluebell as he wiped the drool away. “Cook you on a grill and throw on some A1 sauce, cow.”

Bluebell mooed as if to say, “Bring it on, you yummy bitch.”

Clark pet Bluebell on the head. “She’s a good girl. It’s your own fault for tasting so yummy.”

“Oh, sure,” Zak said, fighting not to fall flat on his face at Clark’s statement. “Blame the victim.”

Clark laughed as Zak poured the feed into the feed trowel. He went and got the other buckets and did the same. It took ten trips to fill it up.

Zak helped with the watering, too. He made the heavy liquid weigh like a feather as he carried the bucket. He would have easily watered the cows if Clark had known about his powers. But, that was something he wasn’t quite ready to share just yet. It took ten trips to fill the water trowel up, too. Cows just ate and drank too much. But, they were yummy to eat.

“All done,” Clark said, stretching, causing his shirt to rise up over his bellybutton, exposing his tone tummy that was just as gold as the rest of him. “I need a nap.”

Zak nodded, following him back into the barn, and asked how his day at school had been. The look in Clark’s eyes was telling a different story than what his mouth was telling him. It made him cock his head to the side, wondering what was wrong.

He listened to Clark speak about how pretty and nice Lana always was to him. It made him feel a sharp bolt of lava hot jealousy strike his heart, making it bleed an acid green with envy.

He suddenly felt bad for feeling that way and squashed that feeling like a bug. It was not in his nature to feel like that. He didn’t like it.

“Why is it when you say Whitney’s name,” Zak asked, following him up the stairs. “I imagine you punching your fist through his face?”

“He’s a jerk,” Clark said, keeping a civil tone. “That’s all.”

Zak wanted to pursue the illusive white rabbit, but knew better when Clark was in a dark mood. He didn’t want to earn himself the legendary silent treatment that Clark could bestow.

Clark threw himself down on the sofa, cuddling his face into the pillow. He was not physically tired, but mentally.

He listened to Zak walk over to him and kept still as the blond pulled his boots off. It sent a pleasant chill racing up his spine.

“Don’t let him get to you, Clark,” he said, putting the shoes down, and laying a thin quilt over him. “You’re too good a person.”

Clark smiled into the pillow, wanting to roll over, snatch the blond with his hands, and pull him down for a cuddle. But, he didn’t. He couldn’t.

He listened to Zak’s soft sigh and his near silent footsteps as he walked away. He had dreamed of kissing the tops of those shapely white feet.

He lifted his head, seeing Zak standing at the window. His hair looked like molten curls of gold in the sunlight that seemed to hold him in its radiant gaze.

“Beautiful,” he whispered under his breath without thinking.

“Huh?” Zak asked, turning his head. “Did you say something, Clarky?”

Clark’s heart skipped a beat. The blond looked like an angel with wings of brilliant light. Those jade eyes shimmered with a green light.

“Thanks,” Clark said, smiling warmly, wincing at the sharp pain that kept striking his gut like a hammer. “Thanks for your help.”

Zak nodded. “You’re welcome. What are best friends for?”

Clark watched him walk over and lie down on the quilt covered mattress by the desk where the radio was.

“What is it?” Clark asked, seeing the hurt hanging on his sleeve.

“Oh, nothing,” Zak said, reaching up, pulling the radio down to him, turning it on. “Aren’t you tired?”

Clark bit his bottom lip, nodding his head.

“Then go to sleep, dummy,” Zak said, turning the dial that changed the channels.

Clark was about to call him a name in return but froze when Zak let out a shocked gasp.

“What”? Clark asked in concern, and Zak turned the volume on the radio all the way up.

She rules until the end of time
She gives and she takes
She rules until the end of time
Until the end of time
Until the end of time
She goes her way

It was his voice. His voice was on the radio. Thousands of people were hearing his voice.

“It…it is hard to believe,” the voice on the radio said soon after Zak’s airy voice faded away. “Who is this? Who was that? Zack Night? Thirteen? Play it again.”

Birds and Butterflies…

Zak turned it off with a snap of the knob, breaking it off.

Clark was on his feet. “Zak?”

He was trembling. His voice, his name, his age was just given to the world. He knew that this was going to happen, but, he didn’t think it would be happening so soon.

“That fat squid!” He hissed, getting to his feet in rage, stumbling over the quilt, realizing that he was dizzy. He felt himself falling into darkness.

“Zak!” Clark yelled, instantly catching him in his arms in a blur of motion.

The blond was out cold. He had fainted from shock.

TBC…

Please review and tell me what you think.

Flora

Note: The song lyrics belong to Within Temptation. The songs are called, All of me, and Mother Earth.