He
really couldn’t understand his brother sometimes. All this
time mooning over that perfectly primped princess when he had someone
as wonderful as Chloe sending him adoring gazes across her coffee.
As far as Connor Kent was concerned, there were quite a few things
that his darling brother Clark just didn’t seem to get.
Like
how coming in second fiddle to the wonder boy might sting sometimes:
how even if Clark wasn’t biologically Martha and Jonathan’s
son, he was still first, something that Connor would never forgive.
It
wasn’t his brother’s fault, so to speak: crashing down
in a fiery death rain was a pretty impressive entrance [how Connor
liked to refer to it in private since the one public mention sent
Clark mooning over the destruction he caused poor Lana’s parents].
Connor
himself had arrived in the much more conventional manner a few months
later, a double surprise for ecstatic parents. So thrilled to have
two beautiful baby boys to raise together; two capable young sons
to take over the chores from their father when they got older; to
be there for each other at home and at school.
It
was all so…storybook smooth. Sometimes Connor felt like brooding
in some dark cave somewhere, wondering exactly what cosmic whatever
up there decided that this was the perfect fate for one Connor Kent.
Wasn’t he meant for more?
But
brooding wasn’t productive, and Connor’s upbringing
was all about productivity, efficiency, resourcefulness. Which was
why he was out here, like every morning, not bitching and moaning
[much] about the unfairness of things, shoveling his cow shit like
the good little boy he was.
He
watched Clark over the half closed stall door as he effortlessly
threw bale after bale of hay up into the hayloft like it was nothing.
Connor had to do things the hard way around, but Clark never rubbed
it in. He was always the perfect older brother.
Perfect,
perfect, perfect.
Which,
of course, was why Chloe liked him.
Connor
sunk his pitchfork in a pile of soiled bedding and gave a heave.
He briefly wondered if it was worth it to try to be more perfect,
if that would make her notice him as something other than Clark’s
slightly baby brother.
But
he somehow doubted it. This handy little demented triangle of Chloe
Loves Clark Who Loves Lana [gag] was apparently going to go on for
the rest of their high school career.
Connor
gave another stab, shoving a pile of manure to a bigger pile in
the corner.
It
just wasn’t fair. He was smart. He was strong [for an earth
guy anyway]. He loved his mom, apple pie, and America. Why couldn’t
she notice him instead?
Clark
yelled from across the barn, “Almost done Connor? Don’t
want to miss the bus.”
Connor
grumbled, knowing full well that if Clark missed the bus he’d
just run, but Connor would get detention for being late. Again.
It wasn’t worth the irritation, so he quickly finished up
the stall and wheeled the waste to the dump outside.
Clark
was already there, setting the old Deere up on jacks for his father
to work on later. “You know, I think I’ll have to ask
Chloe her advice.”
Connor
looked up, pushing floppy hair from his eyes. “What?”
“I
think she could help me find out exactly what Lana wants in a guy.”
Connor’s
grip tightened on the pitchfork. Always about Lana. This would kill
Chloe, and even if he couldn’t have her, he didn’t want
her hurt. Without even thinking of what he was doing, he flung the
tool away.
“I
think you should leave Chloe out of it. If you want to find out
what Lana likes, why don’t you try asking her, like any sane
person would? Get over yourself.”
But
Clark wasn’t paying any attention to him. His gaze was fixed
firmly on the barn wall, where Connor’s thrown pitchfork now
radiated straight out of the wood, vibrating slightly.
“Uh,
little brother, what was that?”
Shocked,
all Connor could do was sputter a bit. Clark turned baffled eyes
his way. “You sure you didn’t fall from the sky too?”
“Positive.”
Brothers
regarded each other for a moment before bursting out into edgy laughter,
the argument about Chloe swept aside. Clark shook his head, and
tugged gently on the pitchfork. “Mom and Dad are going to
freak.”
Connor
silently agreed, but there was a small voice in his head that wondered
if Chloe would notice him now.
~Fin~
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