Seasons
by Marag
For Terpsichore, with much love.
Seasons
by Marag
Summertime in Metropolis was sticky and hot and
unpleasant. It stank of tar and exhaust and grease.
Lex hated the summer.
Sweat and frustration and anger, fuelled by more than
the humidity, permeated everywhere from boardrooms to backrooms to rooms even Lex didn't admit being.
Metropolis wasn't home; it was a place to exist.
Summertime in Smallville was
hot and sweet.
The sun bore down, oppressive but not unbearable. The
humidity was intense, but the sounds of the grasshoppers made it seem as if
there was a drought.
The smells were intense:
The sweet smell of honeysuckle
The smell of wet grass and dry soil
and cattle, and corn.
Lex hadn't known that corn had a smell.
Everyone in Smallville had
the smell of summer attached to them. No cloying smells of expensive perfumes;
honest smells - sweat that should be offensive but wasn't.
The smell of mud from the banks of the swimming hole;
another location Lex wondered if he should add to the
list of places he'd never admit being.
He stood back, watching
He'd once tied a bowtie for
Lex hadn't found it overly arousing - no more than he
found everything about
It hadn't made him want to go to him and lick the
sweat off his neck.
Not like now.
Lex wondered if he would ever be able to spend another
summer in a city again.
He walked back to his car, never having let them know
he was there.
Lex knew that sex had a smell of its own.
Autumn in Metropolis was cold and wet.
The smell of wet wool from damp business suits
permeated everything.
The smell of grease was replaced with the smell of
exhaust from the heat vents.
"Harvest Fresh Vegetables" that still
managed to taste like they came out of a can.
The people looked and smelled - tired. It was if they
were braced for something, but weren't really sure what.
Fall in Metropolis felt of hopelessness.
Fall in Smallville smelled
of apples.
Of sharp sweet onions, of fresh cut hay, of peppers
and corn and the hot sweet breath of beautiful boys.
The smell of flannel dried on a clothesline on a crisp
October day.
The faintly foul odour of
the inside of pumpkins - the taste of freshly roasted pumpkin seeds;
Even if he never did find a suitable
wine to accompany them.
The smell of his own nervousness
competing with the wonderful smell of Martha's family secret turkey dressing. Both scents were new, and both somehow exciting.
Fall was a time for the senses. The
sound of the wind blowing the leaves off the trees.
The beauty of the sky. The eerie shadows of a Harvest
Moon.
The strange, bleak glory of the land
that had given up its bounty.
Autumn was the colour of
Lex could learn to love the Autumn.
Winter in Metropolis was hard.
It was wet and messy and dirty. It smelled of oil, and
spilled coffee, and oddly of roasted chestnuts...
No one every looked up. People hunched in fashionable,
completely impractical clothes.
Winter smelled of wet feet in expensive leather shoes.
Winter in Smallville was
harsh.
It was cold, and white and amazingly beautiful.
Layers that Lex
wanted to peel.
Winter smelled like fresh air.
It smelled like fresh cut Christmas trees and hot
fires and of chestnuts that might just be edible after all.
It smelled like what Lex
fantasized home should smell like. When he allowed himself
such dreams.
It smelled like the teak that had once been part of an
antique bed and was now hand crafted into a perfect globe - just ready for Lex to conquer.
It tasted of the tears of gratitude that Lex would never let show as he accepted the gift, and the
unspoken words that accompanied it.
It sounded of laughter; the unfamiliar sound of his
own mixed with the family that opened their home to him.
It looked like the deep green of mistletoe. The red of
Winter was watching the Rose Bowl parade on an ancient
tiny television in an overcrowded farmhouse when he had the equivalent of a
Jumbo-Tron in his den.
It was a building Snow-Guards to defend the Castle on
a cold January night, just because they could.
It was learning the difference between snow tires and
chains and why people in the city really didn't need SUV's.
It was a candy heart on Valentines day.
A single lavender rose that told Lex so much more
that the words that they were both still far too afraid to say out loud.
It was the feel of sharp teeth, and lips that should
be chapped but weren't, dancing along his throat. It was the touch of warm
hands and hot skin and the sound of ice pellets hitting the windows.
It was walking in the woods holding hands, the sound
of the snow crunching underfoot.
Winter in Smallville was the
sound of laughter.
It felt a lot like freedom.
Spring in Metropolis smelled of hope.
Clothing was shed. People looked up and some even
smiled.
The air still stank of wet city, but the winter trolls
gave way to spring fairies.
Spring in Smallville smelled
of work.
Planting and planning and rebirth.
The sound of robins returning, of
calves suckling, of farmers planting and praying for a good year.
Of Spring formals, and
graduations and futures unknown.
The sound of goodbyes; of tears both
sad and joyful.
The mingled breath of lovers finally
daring to look ahead.
The sight of
The look in Jonathan's eyes and the knowledge that he
still had a lot of work to do to hold the trust of the father of the man he
loved.
The feel of Martha's arms as she
hugged him and gained a promise far more effectively that any threat ever
could.
Lex decided he loved the Spring.
Summer in the
But it wasn't the most beautiful.
The most beautiful thing Lex
ever saw was the love in
Summer in Metropolis smelled of asphalt.
Summer in Smallville smelled
of love.