Fic: Coming Home (SV, Clark/Lex PG)

Title: Coming Home
Author: HYPERFocused
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating: PG
A/N: Written for the contrelamontre “Reunion” challenge, using the full 75 minutes. Utter schmoop, quite the opposite from my last dirtywrongness. “Sorry”, or “you’re welcome” for that. Set in the Ellaverse.



There was very little in this world that Clark Kent liked more than coming home. Sure, saving people daily from certain disaster: floods, fires, earthquakes and evil geniuses was a rush few others have felt. But sheer joy came in the form of coming home to his husband and children, safe in their beds.

The ritual was always similar. First thing after changing out of his costume, Clark went to the Nursery. Superspeed meant he could scoop up little Nate without waking him, settling down with him into the wooden rocking chair his father made when Ella was born.

Always one for movement, Lex said he took after Clark in that way. Nate loved to be rocked. The slow, soothing motion calms him. Then again, he loved to be flown in Superman’s arms, or driven in Lex’s sports cars, so the speed didn’t much matter.

Tonight, Clark was tired. Emotionally, if not physically, so it was the comfort of the oak rocker that called to him. His son babbled happily in his sleep. Not quite words yet, but Clark could tell they’d be coming soon. Nathan was a little slower to talk than Ella had been, and Clark wondered if it was because he’s his child biologically, or if it was just because he was a boy. Ella had practically been born talking. Then again, with the combination of Chloe and Lex’s genetics, she was bound to be brilliant and articulate, too.

Feeling better since he’d reconnected with his son, Clark laid Nathan back down in his crib, turning the cow mobile back on so he could sleep. He closed the door except for a crack, then went to check on his daughter.

Ella was sleeping in her usual position, half hanging out of bed, legs tangled up in her red and purple covers. Clark knew not to straighten them or move her. She was a light sleeper, and felt more comfortable in her familiar jumble.

Instead, Clark sped through a clean up of her room, using his X-ray vision to locate any stray legos and toy figurines, in order to spare the bare feet of those of his family not blessed with impervious skin.

As quiet as he tried to be, Ella’s bat ears perked up when one of Nate’s toys – he’d obviously been playing in her room -- let out a squeak. “Daddy? Is that you?”

“Go back to sleep, sweetie, it’s very late.” He leaned down to give her a kiss.

“It’s okay. Dad was tired, so he made me take a nap. I can stay up and keep you company until you fall asleep.”

Clark laughed. An overworked Lex would make Ella nap, knowing she’d be more likely to listen if she thought she was helping him with his grown-up concerns. She was at the “Naps are for babies” stage now, annoyed when he or Lex suggested it was time to take one, but crabby when allowed to stay up too late. It was a fine line to walk, and since his parents’ hadn’t had the same problems with him, their suggestions hadn’t been all that helpful. God knew, there was no way he and Lex would ask Lionel for his opinion.

“Sounds like we all had a long day. Okay, why don’t you read to me until I get sleepy?” Clark picked up a book from Ella’s night table. Something about a Fairy Princess that Lana had sent. He didn’t care. Ella would be asleep before too long, and that was all that counted.

“Sure, Daddy. Are you going to sleep here?”

“Scootch over.” Clark sat on the bed, tickling Ella’s side until she giggled and moved.

“Daddy! I can’t read while you’ re doing that. Stop it.”

“Sorry,” Clark said contritely. “Okay, I’m ready for my story now.”

Ella picked up the glitter covered story book and began to read. “Once upon a time, there was a Fairy Princess named Magenta Pinkerella. She was very beautiful, but also very sad. You see, the Pink Princess, as she was known, was an orphan…”

Clark bit his cheek to keep from laughing. Of course Lana would pick this story to send to Ella. Even after all these years, Lana’s fondness for pink, and obsession with the tragedy of her early life had not left her.

“Daddy, you’re not listening.”

“Oh honey, I’m sorry. I guess I don’t really like princess stories so much. “

“That’s okay. It’s kind of a stupid book. I like when Aunt Lana sends me stuff, but I wish she’d send different kinds of books instead.”

“You know, she doesn’t have to send anything.” Clark felt he had to admonish her, though he really did agree. “What kind of stories would you like?”

“Maybe something about witches? You know, with spells and stuff?”

“I’ll see what I can find. But it’s probably wise not to ask Aunt Lana for that. Dad and I will take you and Nate to the bookstore tomorrow. How about that?”

“Nate can’t read! He’s just a baby.”

“No, but it’s good to get him used to books and bookstores. And he can look at the pictures.”

“Oh, that makes sense. Okay.”

‘I’m glad you approve. So, do you want to read me a different story, or can you fall asleep now? I know I’m pretty tired.” Clark made a show of giving his biggest yawn.

Ella yawned and stretched herself/ “I think I can go to sleep now, Daddy. Besides, you probably want to go cuddle with Dad now. He missed you, you know.”

“Smart kid. Okay, you get some sleep. I love you.”

“Night, Daddy.”

Now that the kids were settled, it was time to take Ella’s advice. For all his protestations that he wasn’t a cuddler, all evidence spoke to the contrary. He slept restlessly alone, only settling down when Clark was there, spooned behind him.“You’re like a furnace, you know,” Lex would say complainingly, but he’d still burrow into that warmth no matter the room’s temperature.

They had a ritual here, too. Clark would slip quietly into the room and take off his street clothes, tossing them on the chair. Lex was the folder in the family, unless he got carried away with passion, in which case everything went. Then he would climb in beside Lex, and move in until there was a perfect fit between them. Every space filled.

Lex would pretend to have been asleep, knowing Clark hated the thought of him unable to rest without Clark. Clark would pretend not to know Lex had been awake waiting for him.

This night was the same. Clark smiled as he lay next to the man he loved, dropping small kisses on a bared, pale shoulder. Lex sighed and wriggled closer, murmuring something like “mm—home” in his soft, sexy whisper.

In the morning, before the kids were awake, they’d make love. Soft and slow and easy, until they needed it fast and hard, and they had to voice their passions. Sound-proofing their bedroom had been one of Lex’s smartest moves once they’d had a family.

For now, Clark gave one last look through the walls, and right beside him. These were the people he loved and wanted to protect. They were the reason he went on patrol; why he wrote in search of truth and justice; and most importantly, the reason he came home.