Lex was cold, tired, and starting to get mightily pissed off. "Clark, what are we doing all the way out here? We're so deep into the grounds, the snow hasn't even been cleared yet." A fact his shoes could attest to, as it slowly soaked through the leather to freeze his toes.

"That's the whole point, Lex. Here, we can make snow angels!" Clark further mystified him by flopping bodily down on the ground, laying out flat and swinging his arms and legs like he was having some sort of fit.

"Snow angels?" Lex put a wealth of doubt into that one phrase.

Clark gaped at him, then got up. He came and stood behind Lex, laying shockingly warm hands on Lex's inadequately covered shoulders. "Look at the impression in the snow," he said softly, warm breath ghosting over Lex's nearly numb ears.

Lex looked. Then he blinked, and cocked his head to one side. A skirt, wings, a head -- he could just barely see the innocent wonder of it. "It needs a halo," he said softly, walking carefully around the impression. He used the toe of his shoe to make little rays of light around the spot where Clark's head had rested. "There."

Clark was smiling at him, that smile that said a hundred things, most of them buried by the lies they kept telling one another, and themselves. Lex told himself again that nothing really mattered anymore, Clark's lies or Lex's lust or that painful spark of genuine affection that stabbed at him whenever they were together now.

"Do you want to..." Clark must have seen something in Lex's face, because he trailed off, letting the question go unfinished, unanswered.

Lex breathed deeply of the crisp, snow-laden air. It was cold, yes, but alive, real. Winter as a part of nature, a time of endings, the old making way for the new. "Why don't we start over?"

"Uh... what?" Clark seemed deeply confused, and it made Lex smile.

"Start over. It's like... this angel is everything we've ever said or done with one another." Lex took a step forward, deliberately ruining the halo he'd so carefully drawn. "Every lie we've ever told, you and me both." The next step was a little harder, grinding down where the head was. "All the debts and the secrets and the things we deny."

Clark took two steps, stopping just at the edge of the angel's skirt. "All the questions?" Lex nodded, and he stepped forward, two long strides meeting Lex halfway.

"Can I ask you one question, before we make the last step?" There was only a bare foot separating them, so little space really. Clark's eyes went wide, and he nodded. "Was it always just Lana?"

Clark closed his eyes, shook his head. Lex took that step, purposefully, solidly pressing his body to Clark's, leeching off his warmth and youth and innocence. "Look at me."

Those blue, blue eyes opened wide, not innocent but darker, more real than that. Guilt, need, confusion, pain, those were the big fish swimming in the depths, surrounded by a hundred smaller things. Lex was surprised to find he was almost as tall as Clark, up close, he barely needed to lean up to brush his breath over Clark's lips, a final question, one last chance to say no. It was Clark who closed the gap, pressed his lips to Lex's with a quiet, desperate hunger.

Strong arms wrapped around him, and he threaded his hands through that tempting hair, finding it just as soft as he'd always hoped it would be. Clark's lips weren't even chapped in the cold, dry air, which Lex found utterly unfair and completely right. His tongue tasted like cinnamon and apples from the cider they'd been drinking, and his kiss was sweet and inexpert and perfect.

"I'm so glad you didn't forget me," whispered Clark against his lips, trembling.

Lex gentled Clark, petting the shaggy hair until he steadied again. Lex could let the rest of it go unsaid like so much between them,. "I may not remember everything, but destiny... how could I forget that?"

Clark closed his eyes, leaned his forehead against Lex's in a strangely intimate gesture. "What about your father?"

Lex shook his head gently, trying to make Clark understand that this wasn't really about secrets anymore, because certain things become obvious when you strip away the rest of your illusions. "My father knew before I did."

He thought Clark's knees might buckle for a moment, but instead he straightened up and pressed his lips to Lex's with determined passion. When they broke apart, he could feel Clark pressed against him, hard and full and ready. "I'm not human," said Clark softly, and Lex felt an echo of it in his head, a whisper of memory, his own voice telling him what he'd known all along.

"Not a mutant." Lex was sure of that, sure it was something else, something deeper and more surreal. He put that knowledge into his eyes, encouraging, testing, and cocked his head to one side as he felt another whisper of memory. "You fell from the sky," he said softly. "Like an angel, fallen to earth." They both looked down at the trampled figure beneath them.

Clark shook his head almost violently, squeezed his eyes shut. He grabbed Lex's hips, ground himself into Lex as he whispered, "Not an angel."

They looked back up, gazes locking. It was Clark who snickered first, but Lex who fell into the full-throated laughter. "Angel my ass," said Clark at one point, which drove Lex to deeper hysteria.

"I want to fuck you," he said breathlessly, when the humor wore out. "I always have."

Clark took his hand, started to lead him away from the snow. "I know. Me, too."

"Wait," said Lex, turning back. They had destroyed, and he wanted a moment to create, something with no real art or passion, merely the childlike joy of being able to point and say, "I made this." Lex ducked his head, almost shy as he explained, "I want to make one."

Clark's eyes were warm and full of affection, desire, and something that might be the seeds of things he wasn't sure he knew how to trust anymore. The snow was cold and wet, the ground hard and dirty beneath him. He felt like a complete fool, having believed the lies, held back his desire, for nothing. Or maybe he'd really been holding back for this moment, with Clark standing over him, haloing his head with lines in the snow like rays of holy light. Lex felt like there was something profound he should say, but he couldn't find words, not the right ones, anyway.

Instead, he stood up, stepped carefully around his very first snow angel, and pulled Clark into his arms. Another kiss, and he thought that was profound enough for one winter's afternoon.