Similis

"What was that?" Martha sat up again. She had barely settled into bed for the night, and consequently was still very much awake.



"Hmm?" Jonathan was poring intently over his latest farming journal and probably wouldn't have noticed if a bomb had gone off. Well, maybe if it had, but certainly nothing much less noisy could have spontaneously drawn his attention at that moment.



"That noise." Martha cocked her head to one side. "You hear it now?"



Resigned, Jonathan set his journal down on the bedside table and listened patiently for a few seconds. "Nope." He said, and was just about to resume his reading, when something did catch him. It was a regular low rhythm: the squeak of an old mattress. He looked at his spouse. "Did you mean that noise, Honey?"



"Yes, that."



"Ah."



"Jon, what IS that noise?"



"The mattress in the guest room." Jonathan said confidently.



"Where Haze is sleeping?"



"Or not sleeping."



"Not sleeping?" His wife asked suspiciously. "Meaning?"



"I asked Haze yesterday if he had had a good nights sleep, and if I understood him correctly, then Haze doesn't actually sleep."



"He doesn't?" Martha sounded distinctly dubious at that.



"Nope." Jonathan told her. "At least I don't think so. I could have got it wrong though."



"Then why is the bed making that noise?"



"I don't know, Martha. Just because Haze doesn't sleep," Jonathan started to say.



"IF he doesn't!" Martha interjected.



"If he doesn't," Jonathan echoed patiently, and then continued doggedly on with his interrupted train of thought, "It wouldn't necessarily mean that the lad doesn't ever want to lie down in a bed and stretch out and relax just the same as the rest of us."



"So you think that that noise is Haze laying on the bed and … doing something?"



"Honey, I don't know what I think." Looking at the bedside clock, Jonathan sighed. So much for reading… "Except that it is getting late and I do need to get some sleep myself."



"So do I." Martha was firm. "And I can't do it with that noise going on."



"Then go and knock on the door and ask him to stop." Jonathan suggested.



"I can hardly ask Haze to stop doing something, unless I know what it is that I'm asking him to stop doing." Martha said, ruthlessly applying her personal brand of feminine logic. "And I don't know what that noise is."



"Neither do I."



"But you're a man, you must have some idea?"



Jonathan tried very hard to stifle the immediate response. Yes, he did have some idea of what a teenage boy could be doing on his own in a bed, to generate a rhythmic squeaking noise. A very good idea, as it happened. And, no, he would not want to describe what he thought that activity might consist of, not to his wife, nor how he had come by that knowledge either.



"It could be important." Martha continued, oblivious to her husband's musings.



Jonathan expected that if the sound turned out to be what he suspected it to be then Haze would probably consider it very important not to mention personal. It would also be intensely embarrassing, for all parties concerned …



And that raised a nagging doubt in the back of Jonathan's mind. Was Clark in bed yet? And, if so, was Clark in his OWN bed? Clark had taken to wandering around a lot since Haze's arrival. Which raised another reasonably obvious possibility for the sounds: one that required two participants rather than just a solo player.



No … He wouldn't … They wouldn't … Would they? Not with the two of us right across the hallway? Oh Lord!



It had not escaped Jonathan's attention how fascinated Clark was with their new arrival, and how closely their adopted son haunted Haze's every move, even to the point of apparently jumping in the shower with the poor kid every morning.



Jonathan had also noticed that Haze obviously felt very heavily indebted to Clark, and although in all other ways Haze seemed remarkably sensible, the lad was easily persuaded to play along with most of Clark's ideas, even the weirder ones. Especially the weirder ones...



Jonathan had raised the subject of the shower sessions with Haze as tactfully as possible while Clark was off at school for the day, but evidently Haze's people had practised communal living and the new lad didn't seem to think that showering with his buddy was anything out of the ordinary.



Therefore rather than make waves where there currently were none, and as no one seemed to be getting hurt by it, Jonathan had decided that as parents they should ignore it and hope that Clark grew out of it.



Or it could be another alien thing, in which case he could be growing INTO it… Jonathan pondered. If so Haze coming here is going to turn out to be better than we first thought. At least Clark doesn't need to feel like he's so totally alone any more.



"Jon?"



"Sweetheart, if it's bothering you that much, I'll go and check and see if everything is alright." He offered, realising that he had missed at least a minute of conversation and had no intention of admitting to that; at least not tonight. Martha looked suspicious as he gave her a quick kiss, but didn't actually go so far as to say anything. Closing the door softly behind him, Jonathan stepped quietly out into the passage.



Now that he was out on the landing, Jonathan hesitated. The rhythmic squeaking was very much louder here and, while Jonathan made it a strict personal policy never to pry into other people's rooms, most especially when they were in them, the door to the guest room was slightly ajar; so technically he wouldn't be going in completely uninvited, as such.



Strolling along as soundlessly as possible, Jonathan stood outside the door and listened, determined to give the boy the benefit of the doubt. Either that, or sneak in so he could give the pair of them a good scare, which would teach them not to lark around at this time of night …



"Oh, Haze. That is SO good!"







Jonathan jumped slightly. Despite his previous suspicions it still startled him a bit, to hear Clark's voice coming from inside Haze's room! He frowned. So he had been right?



What else am I right about though? Hopefully not ... Feeling somewhat awkward, he tried to peer in through the open door only to find that there was not quite enough of a gap to give him much of a view, apart from the very edge of the post at the foot of the bed. He would very much have liked Clark's x-ray vision right about now…



Or maybe I wouldn't?



"Oh, yes." Clark spoke again, his voice breathy and low. "No, don't stop. Please." The mattress squeaked even louder. "Harder." The instruction sounded muffled somehow.



As if he were lying face-down on the bed? Now that was an image Jonathan could have done without!



"Of course I can take it." Clark was asserting. "Please, Haze, put your body weight into it."



The volume of the mattress noises increased slightly.



"Let you go lower? Okay, if you think it'll be better." Someone shifted position. "Ooh, yeah… Haze, Oh, that's it! Right there." A low throaty groan escaped from the room. Clark was obviously very much enjoying himself.



Oh Lord, that was nearly loud enough for Martha to hear!



Jonathan cringed. He felt torn. Part of him would have very much liked to know what was going on, while another part of him very definitely didn't want to interrupt. He knew only too well what it was like being a teenage boy, all those rampant hormones, and he could predict just how chronically embarrassed the two youngsters were going to be having Dad walk in on them. Not to mention how embarrassed HE was going to be.



There were sounds of increased movement from inside the room. Shuffling.



"Can I move over a bit more too?" Clark wondered quietly. "Only my head is practically hitting the wall here, and I don't want to leave any dents in the plaster." He gave happy little chuckle. "No. We definitely don't want to bother Mom or Dad with this. Okay, ready."



The squeaking immediately resumed, the pace picking up a little.



"Oh oOh, woOw…" Clark's voice wobbled from whatever was being done to him. As usual, there was absolutely no vocal sound from Haze. The increasingly heavy breathing might also just as easily have been from either boy; it was impossible to tell from out here. However that rhythmic pounding was not in the least ambiguous. Bodily contact was definitely happening in that room.



Now what do I do? Under different circumstances Jonathan might have even admired the other lad's staying power, but now that he knew that Clark was definitely involved, he had to err on the side of caution. He felt his face begin to flame. Time for a quick decision: was he ready to go in and stop whatever was going on?



Although by the sound of things, it’s already too late for a pre-emptive strike on this one. It was either that or sneak back along the landing, and turn this one over to Martha. At that moment Jonathan wasn't sure which tempted him more...



"Yessss!" Clark gave a moan of satisfaction, followed by a long breathy sigh. "Man. That was just about perfect."



Oh well, too late for preventative measures! Jonathan cringed. This was not going to be pleasant. He just hoped it wasn't going to be too messy… In any sense of the word.



There was a momentary pause before the mattress gave a long loud protest and someone stood up, followed by a second person. The sound of two pairs of bare feet pattering over the old boards echoed out into the passageway.



"Yes, I was tense. You were right. It was a bit uncomfortable at first." Clark carried on the usual one-sided conversation that was the norm when he was sequestered anywhere with Haze.



There was a rustle of sheets and blankets as the bed was remade.



"Although you warned me, so I did expect that." Clark added. "Of course I trusted you, why wouldn't I?"



The distinctive thud of pillows being rearranged drifted out through the slightly open door.



"So you really hadn't done it before?" Clark was asking. "Oh." He said with obvious admiration. "I just can't believe anyone could do so well on a first try. And I don't suppose I'm the easiest person to do it on, what with the invulnerability and all?" There was a short pause. "Well I could do it to you if you want? I'd be very careful." When he spoke again Clark had a definite smile in his voice. "No… Definitely no super strength…" He was promising.



Jonathan seized his chance, and banging his bedroom door as if he had just stepped out, he rapped on the outside of the guest room door.



"Dad?" The door swung open a little more to reveal a bare-foot Clark standing there, otherwise fully dressed in jeans and T-shirt, the latter untucked and very slightly rumpled. "Is something wrong?"



"Should there be?" Jonathan asked, tightening the cord of his dressing gown. Of course, these days Clark could blur back into his clothes in less than an instant, so that didn't exactly prove anything.



"I saw the light was on, and wondered why Haze was still up. Then I heard your voice." Jonathan explained, trying to sneak a peak in over Clark's broad shoulders. "I'd better come in, we don't want to disturb your mother by talking out here."



He stepped into the room without giving Clark time to object. Thankfully his blushes were spared there too. Haze was sitting cross-legged on the end of the bed and still decently clothed too with the exception of his feet, which were as bare as Clark's. His lower arms were exposed where his shirtsleeves were pushed up, but otherwise nothing seemed out of place.



Neither youth appeared particularly flushed, or concerned, nor did the room smell of anything untoward.



"Dad, why are you sniffing?" Clark wondered. "Are you getting a cold?"



"No." Jonathan told him, thinking on his feet. "I thought I could smell gas downstairs earlier, but your mother said it was just my imagination. I had to get up for a moment anyway, so I thought I'd just double-check."



Clark blurred downstairs and then just as quickly reappeared. "Seems fine." He said, turning to his 'twin', "Haze, have you picked up any odd concentrations of gas molecules anywhere in the house today? You know, the stuff Mom uses to cook with?"



Haze shrugged and signed that as far as he knew everything was just as it should be, everywhere.



"I should know better than to argue with your mother." Jonathan said, trying not to look too obviously at either boy. "What exactly were you two doing?" Bad choice of words, he realised, considering what he had just been listening to. Come to think of it, neither of them looked quite the way he would have expected, given the recent noises.



"I had a pain in my shoulder, I think I caught it at an odd angle during Phys. Ed." Clark volunteered. "I was going to ask you, but you'd already gone to bed, so Haze tried giving me a massage. Turns out he's very good at it."



Haze signed that that was because he could tell exactly where Clark was feeling the ache. He rubbed his own arms and stretched, obviously trying to work off the strain of the rub-down he had just given to Clark.



Jonathan heaved a massive sigh of relief. Of course that was what they were doing. With these two kids what else would it be?



"Well, if you do intend returning the favour, Clark, can you do it in your room?" He requested. "You know how the springs in this old thing," He indicated the mattress with a wave of his hand, "squeal whenever anything so much as touches it? Sleeping on it is one thing, bouncing someone the size of either of you two around on it is quite another."



"Sure Dad," Clark gave his usual easy smile. "C'mon Haze, we can take this to my room." He tilted his head and looked at Jonathan. "Dad?"



"Clark?" Now what was the boy after?



"Would you and Mom mind if Haze actually shared my room permanently?" Clark wondered. "That would be quieter for you and Mom, wouldn’t it? Plus it would give you the spare room back."



"Haze, would you be comfortable with that?" Jonathan asked, receiving an effortless shrug and a soft smile in answer.



Clark put his arm around Haze's shoulders. "'Course he would. Honestly, Dad, you don't think I asked you without at least running the idea past Haze first, do you?"



"Martha and I wouldn't want to pressure you into anything, Haze, and I know how growing boys need their own space." Jonathan decided that it was actually rather nice how comfortable the two lads were with each other, like real brothers, but he didn't want Haze to be pushed into anything just because Clark was having one of his sudden fits of over enthusiasm.



"Haze doesn't sleep in here, Dad." Clark said. He looked a little guilty. "He usually comes in to my room later and sits in the chair all night. It makes me feel bad, because he can't lay down like that even if he wants to."



"Why would you do that, Haze?" Jonathan was a little surprised.



The silent youth merely shrugged.



"We both relax more when we're together." Clark replied so innocently that it just had to be the truth.



Besides, he'd be blushing like a traffic light if he were trying to hide anything, Jonathan reminded himself. Clark was not one of those people who could cover up what he was thinking. Not THAT sort of thinking, at least. "Sure, why not?" Jonathan readily agreed. "But no funny business!"



"Funny business?" Clark looked at him like his father had just suggested that Clark grow another arm.



Haze signed something then pointed to his ears and in the direction of Jonathan and Martha's room.



"Oh, right. No midnight snacks, or pillow fights, then?" Clark grinned. "Darn! I was hoping for at least one pillow fight. What about you, Haze?"



The other boy let out one of his curious silent puffs of laughter, and followed Clark out of the room.



"Night, both of you." Jonathan couldn't resist the urge to tousle both of them as they passed, despite Clark's vocal protestations. Haze never even raised an eyebrow at his share of the treatment, just gave his usual wry smile.



That boy is really too easy going, Jonathan decided, and headed on back to his bed.



"Just as I thought." He said as he hung up his dressing gown.



"Jon?"



"Honestly, Martha. There was a perfectly reasonable explanation, just like I said there would be." He told his wife, as he slipped back into his nice comfy bed.



"And that was?"



"Clark had pestered Haze into massaging his back for him."



"Oh." Martha closed her book and placed it neatly on the bedside cabinet.



"They were both fully dressed the whole time, before you even ask." Jonathan added.



"Why would I ask that?" She took her reading glasses off and looked right at him.



Oh.


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