This fabulous cover was made by Osi - thank you so much!

Stray

by Suz suzvoy@tesco.net

 

Disclaimer - DC/WB owns them, no infringement intended, yadda yadda.

 

This is AU folks, definitely. I'll be playing with ages all over the place, not to mention other stuff...which I'm sure you'll notice right away *g*. It's also very much a WiP. I kinda know what direction it's heading in but precisely how it's getting there - or where it goes after that point - no clue. Still, I figured that since I did this with my last longish WiP and actually finished it then I should try it again for this one.

 

CLex, of course. Completely un-betaed at this stage. Working title, will change. Rated R. Feedback would be adored.

 

*

 

Wayne Manor was such an accurate reflection of the man who lived there that if Lex hadn't personally known better, he would have assumed that Bruce had built it himself.

 

There were demons in every corner, darkness with every step...and the less said about the gargoyles the better. It was in every way a representation of Bruce and his pointy-eared alter ego.

 

No one apart from Lex - and possibly Alfred - had any idea how truly fucked up Bruce Wayne was, which was probably just as well. Lex doubted Bruce's investors would appreciate finding out that in his spare time the CEO of Wayne Enterprises liked to dress up as a flying rodent and inflict his own brand of justice.

 

God, he hated Gotham. The gloom permeated everything. He hated the *waiting*.

 

He could find something else to do of course, and for a while he had. He'd long been free to come and go as he pleased, but when Bruce was out on one of the 'errands' Lex had sent him on, Lex couldn't help but wait at the Manor. It was where Bruce would bring the boy, after all.

 

It always was.

 

Despite Lex's insistence that they should try to find somewhere less likely to terrify those they helped, Bruce hadn't listened.

 

Bruce could be a real ass.

 

As if knowing that Lex had just been mentally bitching about him, Bruce chose that moment to arrive. Lex sensed him before he saw or heard anything of course, as well as the boy now in his charge. Emotions he'd tasted far too often dominated everything - fear, terror, a desperate sense of hope.

 

It was always the hope that reminded him that this was worth doing.

 

He walked into Bruce's office, sat in the chair, pressed a hidden button, and a few moments later he emerged into the Bat Cave reminding himself to never ever tell Bruce how *cool* sliding down the tunnel still was.

 

A few moments later the Batmobile roared (there was never any other word for it) inside and Lex waited until it stopped before moving, his world full of silver and black, chrome and metal, death and darkness.

 

Until the doors slid back.

 

The boy looked every inch his nine years as he sat scrunched up in the passenger seat, staring from Batman to Lex and back again. Frightened but fascinated.

 

It was a typical response, but Lex knew that was the only thing that would be typical about this boy.

 

Smiling warmly, Lex placed a hand on the car almost - but not quite - touching him. He eyed Batman as he climbed out of the car, who knew exactly what he was asking.

 

Parents?

 

"Taken care of," Batman replied, before turning and walking away.

 

Lex could have just taken the information without permission, but he preferred not to. Besides, it always pissed Bruce off when he did that and as much fun as that was...not right now.

 

Now just the two of them, Lex focused all of his attention on the boy, bending down at the knees until he was at eye level.

 

"Hey, Ryan."

 

With Batman gone Ryan's body relaxed slightly; his hands were still forming fists but his knuckles were no longer white. His face was wet as he spoke hesitantly. "Lex?"

 

He nodded calmly. Ryan wasn't like the others; he had gifts of his own, and when Lex felt an unguided and messy push into his mind, he didn't try to stop it. "That's right. It's me Ryan."

 

"I thought..." Ryan blurted out before stopping and pushing further into the car seat as if afraid that Batman was going to come back and punish him for speaking too loudly.

 

Lex's voice barely worked, powered only by the knowledge that the people who had brought such fear into the boy's life no longer existed. "No one's going to hurt you, Ryan. No one's going to hurt you ever again."

 

He was quiet for a long time, his hands having moved until they clutched at the sides of the seat, when eventually he licked his lips and tried again. "I...I didn't think you were real. I thought you were just..."

 

"In your mind?" The irony, of course, was that he had been. But not in the way Ryan meant. "I'm very real, Ryan. Here. I'll show you." Holding his hand out slowly, Lex kept it aimed palm down.

 

There was no movement for some time, until finally Ryan shifted hesitantly, carefully extended his arm, and touched Lex's hand. "Real," he breathed.

 

Lex simply nodded.

 

*

 

It was Ryan's dreams that told him all he needed to know. As with anyone else Lex wasn't going to push into Ryan's mind unless it was absolutely necessary, but that concern was rapidly proven moot. Probably because of the abilities he had - abilities that weren't all that different from Lex's - Ryan didn't just dream, he *broadcast* his dreams and suddenly they were blurring in with Lex's.

 

Lex recognised exactly what was happening after waking up that first night, screaming at his mother to please *stop it*, that he'd be good he'd be good, scratching at his arms in the frantic search for cigarette burns.

 

A quick conversation with Bruce and Alfred the next morning proved what he suspected; he was the only one sharing Ryan's dreams or memories, probably due to the gifts they shared.

 

He didn't mention that fact to Ryan. Ryan already knew.

 

They discovered they had a lot of interests in common. They both excelled at math (Lex for the way that there was *always* an answer; Ryan simply because he liked numbers), loved a good root beer float, and read comics voraciously.

 

It was the night three weeks after Ryan first arrived, when Lex had shared his entire Warrior Angel collection - even his limited editions with autographed artwork - that Ryan finally dreamt about something else.

 

Waking the next morning with half-formed images in his head, Lex spent the morning frowning until Ryan woke. Lex instantly felt his presence in his mind.

 

At some point he was going to have to teach him about privacy, but that really wasn't the boy's fault. His parents had encouraged and frequently *insisted* that he use his gifts for their own gain. Doing exactly what his parents wanted was the only time he'd ever received anything resembling affection from them.

 

"You want to know about him," Ryan declared as soon as he sat down for breakfast.

 

"Yes. I do." Lex sipped at his coffee and smiled. "But you know I'd never make you tell me if you didn't want to." This despite the fact that his curiosity was officially piqued, the image of dark hair and bright light combining into something far too intriguing.

 

"He was my...friend," Ryan's gaze lowered. "He was nice to me. He helped me. He was the only one who did. Until you." He lifted his eyes on the last word, smiling shakily.

 

That smile was another reason this was all worthwhile. "But he couldn't stop your parents from taking you again?"

 

The smile fell and Lex hated himself, but they had to talk about this eventually. "No. He...he wasn't there. He didn't know. He would have stopped them if he had."

 

Lex was suddenly hit by an image of strength, such unbelievable strength; muscles twisting, firming; metal being rendered asunder by bare hands accompanied by the kind of peace Lex had never experienced.

 

Then a name. A single, solitary name.

 

Clark.

 

*

 

Bruce paid as much attention to Ryan as he ever paid to any of them. When he wasn't running Wayne Enterprises he was either down in the Bat Cave obsessively planning ways to finally take out the Joker, or dating Selina.

 

Lex couldn't *wait* for Bruce to find out about that particular secret. He'd pondered just telling him more than once, but the beauty of it really lay in how long Bruce's ignorance could hold out. One thing was certain - whenever he did realise, Lex hoped like hell that he'd be there to see his expression. Maybe take a picture.

 

Frame it.

 

Ryan continued to do well, all things considered. Lex taught him about history, latin, and then they'd squeeze into the same chair together to watch science fiction.

 

They didn't discuss what he'd been through very often, but every now and then Ryan would start talking about Clark. He was cautious about it as if worried about spilling any secrets that could hurt his friend, but his mind had already done that some time ago. Lex didn't know many specifics - just that Clark was strong - and he didn't push for more because he knew Ryan didn't want him to.

 

As his confidence grew they went out more and more. Just outside the Manor at first, then to the outskirts of Gotham but it reminded Ryan too much of his life before, so that trip ended quickly. Lex continued to gently encourage him, nonetheless. He was going to have to get used to the world outside again. And soon.

 

Some two months into Ryan's stay they were walking the grounds of the Manor. The sun wasn't out - it never seemed to be out here - and the usual gloom had settled over everything, but they'd been laughing over Ryan's startingly good impression of Bruce when the boy suddenly stopped and said it.

 

"I can't stay, can I?"

 

Lex had felt nothing brush against his mind. Coming to a stop, he peered over his shoulder back towards the building. It looked as dank as ever but he tried to force a smirk. "Would you really want to live here your entire life?"

 

"You did." Ryan argued with the absolute certainty that only came with childhood.

 

He knew it was meant as a compliment, and that alone provoked a genuine smile. "Not *quite*. There were those few years when I had hair..." He gestured towards his head. "But it's just as well I lost it. The Luthor men had *terrible* hair." It was an old pain; familiar, comforting. One he could play with and not wake up screaming from.

 

"You try not to miss your parents." There was that certainty again.

 

"I never even knew my mother, Ryan." He still wondered what she was like, if her hair was as vibrant as it seemed in the photographs he kept hidden in the dresser. Bruce wanted as few reminders as possible of the fact that he'd agreed to be Lex's Godfather. "And as my father...well, five is a young age." Or so it had been for him. All he remembered of his father was a powerful voice and the creeping sensation that he was always doing the wrong thing.

 

And that other memory. That other memory where they both died, but he was the only one who came back.

 

Ryan looked younger than five when he dipped his head and absently kicked at the ground. "What will happen to me?"

 

Kneeling down beside him, Lex forced him to look up at him by carefully grabbing both shoulders. "We'll find you someone good, Ryan. I promise. This isn't the first time we've done this."

 

"I don't want someone else," he argued, and Lex sighed sadly. This happened, this *always* happened and it never got any easier.

 

"Ryan..."

 

"Normal life?" They'd had something resembling this conversation before. Dreams and hopes and wishes while Star Trek played on the widescreen television.

 

"With the things we do here...you won't get that. You deserve it."

 

"What about you?"

 

Anyone else might have misunderstood, but Lex didn't and promptly snorted. "Oh yeah. Raising a kid in the Prince of Darkness' lair. I can just see you growing up to be so well-adjusted. Hell, look how I turned out. Nineteen and reduced to making fun of him behind his back already." Somehow he knew his father would never have approved. Maybe he knew him better than he thought.

 

The hoped for smile did appear, but not for long. "You don't need him, Lex."

 

Ah, and there was the rub. "I do, Ryan. He can do things I can't, and I can do things *he* can't. We're like a latter-day Laurel and Hardy; they argue, but one's not quite whole without the other." It was something that frustrated Lex no end; being the one who had the visions but having to depend on Bruce to resolve them.

 

That would change some day.

 

Lowering his hands a little, he rubbed them over Ryan's upper arms before standing up again and walking, waiting for his friend to fall into step with him.

 

They were silent for a while, both caught up in their own thoughts or their surroundings until eventually...

 

"Laurel and Hardy?" Ryan asked.

 

"With leather," Lex responded.

 

"No, I mean...who's Laurel and Hardy?"

 

Lex mock groaned. "We have to do something about this poor education of yours."

 

Ryan seemed to be ready for that response, doing a very bad job of trying not to grin. "But you're the one who's teaching me."

 

Damn.

 

There was a fresh chuckle, maybe two, and when Ryan stumbled Lex kept him steady and held his hand.

 

*

 

When Ryan stumbled for the third day in a row, Lex's paranoia took over. All but shoving him into the car - the one Bruce had just been about to drive to a charity golf tournament - Lex broke the speed limit all the way to Toby's.

 

"I don't understand it," Toby said later, while Ryan slept in a hospital bed, "a tumour this big...it wouldn't have just suddenly appeared. We would have seen it during his previous examination."

 

Lex didn't care about that. Lex didn't care about anything else. "What do we do to fix it?"

 

*

 

He stood by Ryan's bed, watching him sleep, remembering how they were first brought together.

 

Fucking visions.

 

Bringing a cup of coffee to his lips, except when he swallowed the liquid he'd tasted blood, his own blood and he'd cried out, trying to stop his father from hurting him again.

 

Five minutes later Bruce had been out of the Manor, tracking down Ryan.

 

The vision had been different to all the others; usually he was more of an observer, occasionally able to feel what was happening around him. Ryan's had been brutal. It'd been him, happening to *him*, and when he sent the message out to hold on, like always, he wasn’t as surprised as he should have been when he'd received a response.

 

Much of it couldn't be verbalised: feelings, sensations. Lex had tried to reassure him constantly that everything would be okay, but he knew Ryan hadn't believed him until he'd been sitting in the Batmobile, touching his hand.

 

But now this.

 

What was the *use* of his *fucking* visions if he'd saved Ryan only to let him die?

 

He was moving, not really aware of it until he was outside the building. He wouldn't leave Ryan, wouldn't go without him, but he had to do *something*.

 

And then he remembered the car.

 

And the golf clubs.

 

Glass made an ugly sound when it cracked.

 

It was the only beautiful thing he heard all day, with the exception of one terrifying beautiful word:

 

Inoperable.

 

*

 

Ryan was awake when Lex returned, sweat dotted along his spine; hand crafted Italian shirt clinging to his back.

 

Lex wanted to rip it off, wondering how the boy who was sitting up in the bed smiling at him could be dying.

 

"Bruce won't be happy about the car," Ryan greeted.

 

Maybe Ryan hadn't stopped reading his mind. Maybe he'd just gotten better at hiding it. "I don't care about Bruce."

 

"Liar."

 

God, he was being cheeky. *Cheeky*. Lex paused next to the bed. "Ryan..."

 

Suddenly he was much, much older than his nine years. "I know what's happening to me, Lex. It's okay."

 

"Okay? You're *dying*."

 

"I know. I think...I always have."

 

It was as if all the air in Lex's lungs whooshed out of his body, and he thumped down on the edge of the bed. Hard. "Why didn't you tell me?" All that time reading and laughing, watching and playing, and Ryan had been silently dying.

 

"Because I don't want to stay here, Lex. I don't want to stay *here*."

 

Hospital walls and window blinds. Green jello and plastic trays. Lex understood. He didn't like it but he understood. It was enough. He could pretend. For Ryan he'd do anything. Even bad impressions of cowboys. "Well what d'ya say we blow this joint, huh?"

 

His face brightening Ryan immediately started getting out of bed. Amused as he could be at Ryan's enthusiasm Lex told him to stay put while he dealt with things, and quickly left the room.

 

He absolutely shouldn't have been considering how long he'd known him, but Lex was still surprised when he saw Bruce waiting in the corridor. The man was like a bloodhound. With wings. "Bruce."

 

"Lex." He looked past him into the hospital room where Ryan was sitting, before slowly moving his gaze back to Lex's face. "What the hell did you do to my car?"

 

*

 

It was Alfred who told him to pull his head out of his ass and spend more time with Ryan. Not in so many words, of course, and in a very respectful British accent, which somehow made him sound all the more insulting.

 

It was the right thing to do.

 

Lex had refused to believe it at first, that Ryan couldn't be saved, even after he took him out of the hospital. Nearly every moment of every day was spent making phone calls, waiting for phone calls, searching online, contacting people for second, third or *fourth* opinions.

 

But as Alfred quite rightfully pointed out, he was ignoring Ryan.

 

Alfred always had known him better than anyone else. He'd probably spent more time with him than anyone else.

 

So Lex went to Ryan, and found him watching a movie by himself. Squeezing into the chair with him, Lex sat there for at least ten minutes before finally saying something. "I'm sorry. It's not my fault. I was raised by an ass."

 

Ryan watched as Picard argued with a Cardassian.

 

Lex loved Picard. He suspected it was a bald thing.

 

"Bruce isn't so bad." Ryan shrugged, still looking at the TV. "He's a lot like you."

 

Lex tried not to be insulted. He didn't entirely succeed. But he'd been ignoring Ryan for days now, so he couldn't really do anything except let that one slide. "I guess I can see your point. We both read a lot. We both like...wearing leather?"

 

His bad attempt as humour was ignored. "You both try to help people."

 

'Try' being the operative word. "Yeah," Lex said, putting an arm around Ryan and feeling his friend relax against him even as the guilt clawed at his throat, "I suppose we do try."

 

Lex changed his days. Instead of searching they were spent on giving Ryan new experiences; things he'd never seen or done before. Ryan claimed he didn't need to do anything special and while Lex didn't doubt it was true, he also didn't doubt that Ryan was enjoying the hell out of himself. Anything with large crowds still wasn't an option, but the money helped there. Lex could rent almost any place on Earth just for the two of them, to do whatever they wanted. How many people got that chance?

 

His nights, however, became what his days used to be. The headache's Ryan had been hiding were only getting worse, and it seemed as though every other day now he suffered through a nosebleed. So Lex read. Researched. Investigated. He knew he wasn't getting enough sleep - even Bruce pointed out he was looking paler than usual during one of his rants about his car - but it wasn't going to kill him anytime soon. Ryan was his friend. Ryan needed his help. So Lex had to solve the problem; he was the only one who would try so it was up to him. It was really quite simple.

 

When he walked the corridors at night he frequently came across Bruce, either returning from his work as Batman or just leaving his study to head for bed. Seemed Wayne Enterprises had been busier than usual lately.

 

One particular night as Lex was aiming for the kitchen to get more coffee, he saw the door to Bruce's office was open. Knowing it was nearly 3 a.m. and intrigued as to who Bruce was trying to take over this time, Lex peered inside.

 

Bruce was in his chair. Asleep.

 

Lex stood in the doorway for a few moments, the shock actually rendering him unable to move. He couldn't remember Bruce ever having done anything so...unplanned. Falling asleep at his desk was tantamount to leaving himself open to attack, even in his own home.

 

Shaking his head Lex approached the desk, eyeing the paperwork. The closer he got the more familiar the pile of papers looked, until he eventually understood why he recognised them. They were...

 

Ryan's medical files.

 

There were names, numbers and medical terms scrawled over most of them. A majority he recognised but a few he didn't and when he realised that, the hope he felt outweighed any shock at what Bruce had obviously been doing.

 

That was the moment he realised Bruce was looking at him. He woke as silently as he did anything else. Always had.

 

Lex didn't smile. "You're getting lax, old man."

 

Neither did Bruce. "Thirty seven is not old."

 

"You never used to fall asleep at your desk. How's the back holding out?" He'd seen the winces he unsuccessfully tried to hide sometimes. Bruce had been Batman for a long time and it was starting to show.

 

Bruce simply looked at him impassively. "Better than my car."

 

Lex rolled his eyes. "You are never going to let that go."

 

"No," Bruce agreed, "I'm not." He still wasn't smiling.

 

Come to think of it, had he ever *seen* Bruce smile? Ever seen him do anything except exude...presence? "You should sleep."

 

Dark eyes flicked down to the files on his desk before moving back up again. He didn't try to cover them up. That wouldn't have been very Bruce-like. "So should you."

 

Maybe he would. Maybe he would at that.

 

Lex left without saying another word, forgot about his coffee, and slept until midday.

 

*

 

Ryan only continued to get worse. In near constant pain now it was obvious to everyone that he didn't have long left.

 

When Lex asked him where he wanted to go, what he wanted to do, he responded with only two words:

 

"Someplace quiet."

 

Lex took him to the sun.

 

*

 

The beach was privately owned and there no one nearby to bother them - Lex had paid enough to see to that.

 

Ryan had never seen the ocean, so they sat on the sand as Lex quite possible ruined his suit pants and stared out at the water. It was so different from Gotham here. Lex had almost forgotten what other places were like. "What do you think?" he asked quietly.

 

Closing his eyes and turning his face up to the sun, Ryan smiled. "It's...peaceful. I haven't felt this way since..."

 

"Clark." Lex had no doubt.

 

Ryan's eyes opened, but he turned them back to the ocean. "I...couldn't, with him. Because he was different."

 

"Couldn't read his mind?"

 

Ryan nodded.

 

Lex tried to imagine what that was like, not being able to at all. He avoided reading minds unless it was absolutely necessary but there was always something there, almost like background noise. Static. And occasionally a thought was so strong that there was nothing he could do to avoid it. "Do you want me to contact him?" He'd offered before, but maybe now that things were...closer... "I mean, if he's special there might be something he can do-"

 

"No," Ryan shook his head, "there's nothing. And I don't want him here. It'd make him sad."

 

Me and him both, Lex thought.

 

When Ryan moved closer and leant his head against Lex's shoulder, Lex's arm went around him freely.

 

"Lex?" His voice had never, ever sounded so quiet. Ryan's hand was holding onto his thigh now; clenching, unclenching, clencing, unclenching.

 

"Ryan?"

 

"Will you promise me something?"

 

"Anything." He pressed a kiss to Ryan's forehead. Absolutely anything at all.

 

"Will you look after him?"

 

The request surprised Lex, and it took him a while to realise who he meant. "Clark? But...I mean if he's *strong* then surely he can take care of himself."

 

Clench. Unclench. "He's strong Lex, but...he's different. Like me and you." His voice lowered even more. "People always try to use people who are different." There was a lifetime of evidence in those words. "He has people who care about him, people who love him, but they're not like you Lex. They don't know how to do that stuff, the stuff that isn't so nice and I just know that one day someone's gonna come and take-"

 

"Ryan," Lex stopped the flow of words by pulling the boy closer, both arms wrapping around him. "I promised, didn't I? And I always keep my promises." God knew what he was letting himself in for, but he'd already let Ryan down once. It wouldn't happen again. "Though you know...this assertion that I don't do nice things? Not speaking too well for you at the moment."

 

Chuckling quietly, Ryan turned into Lex's hold further until he was almost lying across him, his head buried in Lex's shoulder.

 

Lex held on tightly. The sun was reflecting merrily from the ocean, there was a wetness on his neck that hadn't been there before, and Lex kept holding on until the noise in his head - the noise that was always, always there - grew silent.

 

It was a beautiful day.

 

*

 

The funeral was held the next day.

 

There were three attendees.

 

*

 

Alfred knew Lex was leaving before he even said a word.

 

"When will you be returning from your trip, Master Lex?"

 

Alfred always had known him better than anyone else.

 

"I don't know, Alfred." Lex sat in the chair, staring at a television that was switched off. "Maybe a few weeks. Maybe never." He honestly didn't know. It was a rare experience for him.

 

Entirely too British to say anything as emotional as "I'll miss you", Alfred instead nodded once and turned to leave the room. "I'll make sure you have food for your journey sir."

 

Lex should have thanked him.

 

He didn't.

 

*

 

Standing by the car in the driveway, Lex stared up at the Manor. The outline, the detail, even the sense of impending doom the building seemed to convey – all of it was so familiar. He'd spent nearly three-quarters of his life in that building. He knew every room, every wall, every step.

 

He wasn't going to miss any of it. Not a single thing.

 

Bruce approached from the open doorway, gravel crunching beneath his feet like bones snapping quietly under a little too much pressure.

 

There was something symbolic in that.

 

Should he even try to say thank you?

 

"You have everything?" Bruce asked.

 

"Yeah." Lex gestured absently towards the trunk. "Everything I need." It wasn't much.

 

"Where are you heading?"

 

He'd been ready for this. He'd told Bruce just the night before that he was going away, and Bruce had done nothing except nod quietly and get back to his training. Now he was finally asking.

 

"A town in Kansas. Dad bought a creamed corn factory there the day-" red red, everything had been red "-he died. Thought I'd see if I could be of any use there." Quite frankly he'd been amazed when he realised there were LuthorCorp interests in the very place where Ryan's Clark lived. He doubted it was a coincidence. Thinking of the comic books carefully bound with his luggage, a small smile twitched across his lips.

 

More like destiny.

 

It was a good excuse. One that would work. He wasn't about to tell Bruce his real reason for going there.

 

Bruce simply regarded him carefully. "You don't have access to your father's assets yet."

 

It wasn't a reminder. "I know." Another fifteen months. He knew all too well. "But I have my mother's." He knew even without meeting her that she'd always been more than a trophy wife.

 

Seeming to give great thought to his next words, Bruce held his gaze. "What happens if you see things again?"

 

He hadn't had a vision since Ryan. They both knew that. It was the longest he'd gone without having one. Was that destiny too? "I'll..." What, exactly? He knew it wasn't right to leave when there was still so much to *do*, but he also knew that he was doing what he was supposed to. "...think of something. Maybe contact you."

 

"Well," Bruce said eventually, and Lex wondered if he was going to say something typical like "Alfred will miss you" or "At least I'll have control of my TV now."

 

It was something typical.

 

"Try not to wreck the car."

 

Mentally rolling his eyes, Lex opened the car door and climbed inside. Shutting it behind him he pulled on his seat belt, pressed a button that made the window lower and started the engine. "Bruce." He had to do it. He couldn’t *not* do it.

 

"Lex?" He hadn't moved.

 

Smiling the best he could, Lex nodded happily. "I really hope things work out with you and Selina. You two are just *purr*fect for each other."

 

It was bad. Lex knew it was bad. He didn't care.

 

He stayed just long enough to enjoy the look of confusion on Bruce's face before screeching away from Wayne Manor.

 

*

 

It was at least a four hour drive but Lex was looking forward to it. Aside from stopping for facilities – Alfred had been right; judging by the plastic containers in the passenger seat, buying food would be completely unnecessary – he wouldn't have to interact with another human being all the way to Smallville.

 

Wouldn't even have to be near one.

 

The faint hum would be there as he passed cars that inevitably carried people, but it was barely there; a scant brush against his mind before it was gone and along came the next one.

 

Back in the manor, even with just Bruce and Alfred he'd never really been alone. Bruce had so much going on in his head that it was like being closed in with an entire football team.

 

A young Lex, terrified and thrilled at his new powers, had seen too much of Bruce's mind. It was a relief to be away from it, even some fourteen years later.

 

After a few hours of travelling the road cleared ahead of him and Lex couldn't help it; his foot pressed down on the accelerator. It was one of his joys in life, one that he didn't get to indulge nearly often enough.

 

The world whipped by, the minds going with it, and it was almost as if he were completely and utterly alone.

 

He could forget about Ryan, forget about the dreams and the pain. Forget about *everything*. He was flying.

 

Until the carphone rang.

 

Annoyed, he whacked the speakerphone on. "What?!"

 

It was the voice he'd heard just a few hours ago.

 

"Stop speeding."

 

There were several things he could have said in response. Some crack about Bruce's own manic driving, the fact that the Batmobile was probably technically illegal and shouldn't even be out on the road, or that he should actually be focusing on more important things like his company or Batman's work. Instead Lex sat in silence for a few moments, until his brain finally deduced exactly how Bruce knew he was speeding.

 

The sense of indignation was really quite something.

 

"You put a tracking device on my *car*?"

 

"Technically it's my car. And Lex..."

 

Dammit. Why was his voice always so calm? "*What*?"

 

"I'm Batman."

 

And that was all there was to it.

 

*

 

The car had been pulled over quickly, its wheels screeching on the tarmac as he came to a sudden stop. Rubber imprints of tires had been left on the road, and the car continuously chimed reminding him to close the door he'd left open in his scramble to get out.

 

Lex had known. Of course he'd known. He just hadn't quite been *aware* until he'd arrived and seen it.

 

The factory off to the left was the last purchase his father had ever made. The cornfield ahead of him – miraculously whole – was where both of them had died.

 

There was so much *light*.

 

Smallville. Full circle.

 

It had to mean something.

 

That Ryan would guide him here, of all places. Where he'd died and been reborn as something else, something not entirely human.

 

Destiny again? He preferred to make his own but he did believe that some things were pre-destined, absolutely meant to happen and nothing could prevent them.

 

There was a voice coming from his left, someone asking if he was all right. Suddenly aware of the image he must have made he straightened his shoulders, turned away from the field where he'd died, and held out his hand.

 

"I'm Lex Luthor. Mr Small is expecting me."

 

*

 

Henry Small was obviously a good man, and Lex could sense the underlying fear he tried no to show. His father had been dead for a long time but the memory of his...tactics still remained. At the time they'd probably had no idea who they'd been dealing with, but time revealed all things. Especially the truth.

 

Lex knew it for himself, knew it from his father's business history. From that perspective he most definitely hadn't been a good man but he'd been an excellent businessman. Had he lived Lex could only imagine the heights LuthorCorp would have grown to, but as it was the company had done little more than sustain itself over the intervening years.

 

He couldn't blame anyone for that. Bruce had his own company to run, and didn't have the time (or probably the personal motivation) to take care of LuthorCorp the way it should have been, despite the people he hired to take care of it. They were capable, but lacking vision.

 

Lex had had a stake in his father's company since his eighteenth birthday, but had been far too involved with his work in Gotham to do anything about it. Now that he was out of Gotham, out where there was some goddamn *sun*, maybe he could do something.

 

Starting with the factory.

 

He had no final control of course, but he could suggest, investigate, plan, and learn a little more about his business lineage. He was the son of Lionel Luthor. Even now that brought with it certain expectations.

 

Case in point: Henry Small. After two hours of talks and endless reassurances that there would be no layoffs, Lex made an eager escape from the plant. The drive hadn't been so long, but that coupled with the meeting and seeing this *place* again...he wanted to go home. His new home.

 

Having double-checked the directions with Henry, Lex found himself pulling into the driveway nearly fifteen minutes later.

 

Stopping the car halfway up the drive he peered out through the windscreen and stared at the building.

 

His research had been right.

 

A castle.

 

A fucking *castle*.

 

His father had had it moved there even before the deal with the factory looked certain; either arrogant enough to think the deal was closed before it was, or maybe simply liking the area as some kind of 'retreat'.

 

Shaking his head, Lex inched slowly up the rest of the drive. What was it with millionaire's and their melodramatic real estate deals?

 

It was only when he turned off the engine and opened the door that he realised there was someone outside the building obviously waiting for him. Right. One of the recently acquired staff who'd been sent ahead to open things up.

 

Alfred only knew the best of the best, and Lex had no doubt he'd be completely satisfied. In fact the man he was looking at now looked very...Alfred-like. Was it possible that while Bruce had been busy being Batman and Lex had been busy with the people they helped, Alfred had deciphered the intricacies of cloning?

 

"Mr Luthor."

 

The accent had just a twang of something else. Spanish? Oh well. "Yes. Call me Lex." He made a point of shaking his hand. As much as Alfred meant to him, there were things that were going to be different here. "And you are?"

 

The 'butler' didn't even blink an eye as he returned the handshake. "Enrique, Lex. You may call me Enrique."

 

He really was the best man for the job. Lex loved him already.

 

He was led into the castle after that, and given a brief tour. Though everything had been cleared off and the windows thrown open, there was still a mustiness that lingered in the air. It didn't bother Lex. He just wanted to *sleep*.

 

Faking interest for as long as he could, Lex eventually interrupted Enrique mid-flow and told him, in no uncertain terms, that he needed to sleep.

 

Guided to the bedroom, Lex was surprised to see his empty luggage bags placed neatly at the side of the room. Had he hired luggage *elves* or something?

 

Now that he could see the bed, any attempt at staving off sleep fled. Lex managed to kick off his shoes, mumble something to the man who may or may not still have been in the room, and flopped down on the freshly made bed.

 

**PAIN**

 

Just as quickly he leapt back up.

 

**PAIN**

 

He wasn't feeling it but *someone* was, and as he stumbled around the room there was blue, red and green, so much green.

 

When his vision cleared he stuffed his feet back into his shoes and tore out of the mansion.

 

His hands gripped fiercely onto the steering wheel as he drove, letting an instinct he'd come to trust guide him until he knew he had to stop, just *stop*, and get out of the car.

 

Lex ran through the woods he'd parked next to, head pounding, leaves and twigs slapping at his face and then he was falling falling shit that must have been what happened and when he finally stopped moving he was lying across something far too warm to be ground.

 

Groaning, his head hurting even more now (concussion?), Lex forced himself up and realised he was lying across someone. A very startled but nonetheless in pain someone.

 

Quickly pushing himself off, Lex sat back on something sharp and carefully didnt touch any part of the man's body, not knowing how he was injured. "Where do you hurt?"

 

The man shook his head, eyes still terrified by *something*, and Lex realised it could well have been the fact that his skin was...well...*green*.

 

Nodding towards him, Lex soon realised that the man was actually nodding to the ground just beneath him. Shuffling back, Lex realised the sharp things he'd been kneeling on were rocks. Green rocks? Picking one up he frowned, staring at it, until he saw the man wince even harder.

 

Realisation kicked in and he moved, throwing rock after rock as far away from them as possible and when they were all gone he turned back to face the man.

 

Who, as his skin colour started returning to normal (what the hell kind of rocks had they been?), Lex was starting to think was a lot younger than he'd initially decided.

 

The man...boy groaned a little in relief and Lex finally got a look at him without panic clouding his mind.

 

Oh.

 

"Clark?" He asked.

 

Perfectly fine now, the boy frowned and nodded.

 

Fate indeed. "Nice to meet you." Lex said, feeling the ridiculous urge to laugh.

 

He gave into that urge, once, and promptly passed out.

 

*

 

The feel of something firm pressing against his forehead eventually drew Lex from slumber regretfully. He felt good.

 

Correction: great.

 

He was lying on something comfortable, covered by something warm, and felt as relaxed as he could remember being for sometime. He couldn’t quite remember *why* he hadn't been relaxed for sometime, but it seemed insignificant as he enjoyed the concern he could feel radiating from someone's mind.

 

When he felt the hand move away from his forehead, Lex slowly opened his eyes.

 

It was a woman he didn't recognise. Dark red hair in a bob, attractive, warmth pouring from her features as she smiled down at him. "Well hello there."

 

Lex might have been in love.

 

"Hello," he replied, his post-sleep voice not quite used to talking yet. He could feel his own smile start in response to hers.

 

"How do you feel?"

 

Just to be sure Lex stretched experimentally, yawning widely and actually enjoying the smirk she produced. "Great." He replied. "I feel...great."

 

"Glad to hear it," her hand moved to rest on his arm, "we couldn't see anything wrong, but when you didn't wake up..."

 

Lex's mind finally forced its way out of its warm little world.

 

Clark.

 

He'd found Clark, and a lot faster than he'd anticipated. She was probably Clark's mother...which seemed to make a great deal of sense. Lex wasn't sure why.

 

Releasing his arm she moved from the bed to step towards the doorway, obviously about to call for someone. "He's-"

 

Clark was suddenly there, as if he'd been waiting just outside the room all along.

 

"-awake."

 

Lex had his doubts. He had a feeling Clark Kent was going to be a lot more surprising than he'd expected. "Hi. Thanks for looking after me." The question was addressed to both, but he was only looking at Clark.

 

The resulting grin could have come straight from a toothpaste commercial. "Thank *you* for saving my life."

 

A sudden flare of fear from his mother, and she looked urgently towards her son. "Clark has some serious allergies," she tried to explain, glancing back at Lex, "something in the forest didn't agree with him."

 

She was an abysmally bad liar. Lex wondered if that particular trait ran in the family. If it did, Ryan had been right. No wonder Clark needed protection. "Allergies. Right." He paused. "Makes sense."

 

For his part, Clark had lowered his head and was kicking softly at the floor with his sneakers. Definitely ran in the family. *Really* bad liars.

 

"Well, as you're feeling better what do you say I bring you up something to eat?"

 

She was like some fucking cliché. Maybe he'd kidnap her and bring her back to the castle. But then that probably wouldn't sit too well with her son... "I don't want you to go to any trouble, Mrs...?"

 

"Oh!" She shook her head at herself. "I'm sorry. I'm Martha. Martha Kent. And it's no trouble at all. This is my son, Clark."

 

Clark beamed.

 

Lex found himself doing the same. He couldn't remember ever knowing anyone who smiled quite like that, as if they were smiling with every ounce of energy they contained. "I'm Lex."

 

"Nice to meet you, Lex."

 

Mother and son discussed something between the two of them for a while, so Lex took the opportunity to study the room he was in. Clothes cast carelessly aside, various posters of rock groups...definitely a teenage boy's bedroom. Lex was very carefully *not* thinking about the fact that a) he was in Clark's bed, and b) there were no pictures of girls anywhere on the walls.

 

Good God, what was *wrong* with him? Helping Clark did not mean helping himself.

 

Mrs Kent left the room, so Lex finally brought his gaze back to Clark who had stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and was rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

 

"I'm glad you're okay," Clark suddenly blurted out, from the looks of things surprising both of them. "I couldn't see anything wrong...not that I'm an expert or a doctor or anything, um..." Was he *blushing*? "...but you were out for a long time."

 

Mrs Kent had said that too. "What time is it?" He looked to the bedside table for a clock. "10pm?"

 

"Not quite. 10am." Clark corrected with a grin.

 

Lex felt vaguely embarrassed, and vaguely stupid. There was far too much light seeping in through the curtains for it to be night-time. "I slept here all night?" Taking Clark's nod as a yes, Lex moved his head away and stared up at the ceiling. His shoes were off, but at least no one had stripped him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to impose. I...haven't been sleeping well lately." *Ryan*. It'd probably been the exhaustion that made him pass out in the first place.

 

"Looks like you haven't been sleeping at all." Clark moved towards him, no doubt seeing the dark circles beneath his eyes.

 

"Or that." Lex agreed wryly. Sighing, he began to peel back the covers and sit up, but had only got halfway there when a hand pressed against his shoulder.

 

"Hey, take it easy," Clark warned. "Just because I can't see anything wrong doesn't mean there isn't something wrong."

 

Was this kid for real? Was anyone in this family for real? "Thank you Madame Nightingale," Lex teased, sitting up fully and meeting Clark's gaze. "Really, Clark. I'm fine."

 

Something in his words sparked something because Clark pressed his lips together, glancing down before quickly glancing back up. "I didn't tell my parents about everything that happened...before." He tipped his head to one side, his forehead creasing as he frowned. "How do you know my name?"

 

That's...right. Stupid. Clark's hand was still on his shoulder. Lex felt no urge to remove it. In fact as the hand stayed there and Lex stared back into Clark's curious green eyes, it felt like... "Clark, do you believe in destiny?" He hadn't meant to make his voice sound that low. Really.

 

Clark shrugged, still not moving away. "Sometimes. I guess there are...things that happen, that make you wonder what other purpose they could have. Sometimes destiny seems like the only explanation."

 

Lex could imagine having great conversations with this boy. "I know exactly what you mean." He couldn't bring Ryan up, not yet. Until he got to know him better he didn't want to risk spooking Clark.

 

As it was they could hear Clark's mother carefully making her way up the stairs, carrying whatever magically healing breakfast she'd whipped up, so Clark stood up, removed his hand, and stepped away.

 

It was only at that moment Lex realised that although he'd felt Clark's pain in the vision, now he wasn't sensing anything at all.

 

*

 

After eating and cleaning up – Clark thankfully had a spare toothbrush, so Lex could at least face the day with fresh breath – he met Clark's father.

 

Jonathan Kent had been outside working with the cattle (cattle. These people had *cattle*) so Clark took Lex out to meet him. It was instantly obvious that Mr Kent was suspicious of him as they shook hands, despite the fact that he'd apparently saved his son's life. Paranoia all but dripped off him, but Lex thought he understood. They'd probably been trying to hide what Clark was capable of for his entire life.

 

Whatever it was that Clark was capable of.

 

When that was done Clark insisted on giving him a personal tour of the farm, and Lex certainly had no reason to object. He was shown every inch of the farmhouse, literally introduced to every piece of cattle, walked along the edge of every field, and with each passing moment it became radically clear how very different his childhood had been compared to Clark's.

 

Clark had sunshine, sweet smelling pies and the all-American family. In contrast Lex had had rain, expertly prepared yet soulless food, and the watchful eye of a man who pretended to be someone he wasn't every single day. He couldn't help but feel a little jealous.

 

As they walked Lex found himself telling Clark about the plant and what he hoped to accomplish. He knew he was a stranger coming into a close-knit community, but even if he hadn't known Clark soon pointed it out to him.

 

Pausing mid-stride, he turned to meet Lex's gaze with a confidence Lex hadn't known he was capable of.

 

"A lot of people work at that plant. It means a lot around here."

 

Absurdly pleased, Lex smiled at him. "It's not my intention to close the plant down, Clark. I'm not going to get rid of anyone. In fact if this works there could be *more* jobs."

 

Apparently mollified, Clark nodded and grinned in relief. "Sorry. I just to tend to get a little..."

 

"Protective?"

 

"Of people I care about, yeah."

 

Their last stop in the tour was the barn of all places, but Lex quickly discovered why; Clark's father had built him a 'fortress of solitude'.

 

Lex wondered if Jonathan Kent sneakily read comic books when no one else was looking.

 

Clark looked a little embarrassed when he said the name, but Lex would have killed for a place like this as a kid. His own space, where he could be just himself, and oh – a telescope to finish it off. Perfection.

 

They stood by the hatch in the side of the barn for a while, discussing nothing of consequence and maybe that was what was so enjoyable about it. He'd talked about nothing with Ryan and others before him, but the boy beside him now? He had *no idea what he was thinking*. None. At all.

 

He still didn't understand quite how he'd had a vision of Clark in pain and yet be unable to read his mind; he'd assumed his abilities were intrinsically linked with each other but maybe somehow they weren't.

 

It didn't matter right now anyway, the talking had stopped and they were just looking out together into the beautifully sunny day.

 

Until Clark spoke again. "Can I ask you something?"

 

"Of course."

 

Turning to face him, Clark leant back against the edge of the hatch. "Is it just me, or..." He paused, before evidently building his courage and pressing on. "...does it not feel like we just met for the first time yesterday?"

 

And that was it. Clark had managed to sum up in one sentence what Lex had been struggling to clarify all day. Realising that Clark was actually looking a little afraid, Lex quickly spoke. "I know exactly what you mean, Clark. Maybe some people are meant to be friends."

 

"Destiny?" Clark teased.

 

His grin grew. "Maybe. I like being around you Clark. It's...” Him, just him. There was a faint buzz from the farmhouse but it was almost just him alone in his head. "...peaceful."

 

Clark's smile deepened for a moment, before faltering. "I used to have a friend who said that to me..."

 

Lex could only imagine he meant Ryan, and suddenly he realised he didn't have to hide that at all. "Clark, I need to tell you-"

 

Clark's head suddenly moved, lifting and turning to look out through the hatch. "There's a car coming."

 

Frowning, Lex followed his gaze. He couldn't seen anything. How the hell was Clark so sure it was...and there it was. He couldn't quite tell the colour, but it was definitely dark and as it moved further along the road that connected to the Kent farm there was something about it that seemed almost *familiar*...

 

And just then, he felt it. Something he'd felt almost his entire life.

 

Shit.

 

*Bruce*.

 

"I have to go," Lex suddenly declared, turning and almost running down the stairs that led out of the barn. The last thing he wanted was for Bruce to come barrelling creepily in to what he was trying to do; that'd make him look even worse in Mr Kent's eyes...and what the hell was Bruce doing there anyway?

 

Jogging out of the barn and into the sunlight, Lex barely held onto his frustration. The car had turned onto the farm road now, and as it pulled to a stop Lex went to meet it. As soon as the door opened he began to speak.

 

"Bruce, why are you-?"

 

A well-trained hand locked onto his shoulder, stopping the flow of words. Bruce was all the way out now, and very obviously not happy "*What* do you *think* you are *doing*?"

 

Before Lex's brain could try to process exactly why Bruce was, well, *pissed* at him, another hand appeared. Only it wasn't Bruce's. And it wasn't grabbing hold of Lex.

 

Lex watched with no small amount of wonder as Clark's hand wrapped firmly around Bruce's forearm, then tried his best not to shiver as Clark's chest brushed against his back.

 

"Let him go," Clark said.

 

Bruce didn't blink in surprise. That wasn't very Bruce. But his forehead did furrow together. "Who are you?"

 

Clark's hand must have tightened because Bruce winced – Bruce actually *winced* – and oh, Lex was in heaven. "*Let* him *go*." There was steel in that voice, steel that more than equalled Bruce's. Maybe even surpassed it.

 

Lex tried very very hard not to come in his pants.

 

Sadly, as much fun as this was Lex knew he couldn't let it continue. "Clark," touching anybody was a bad idea, so Lex didn't place his own hand on Clark's arm. Even though it looked like a really *nice* arm. "It's okay. This is Bruce Wayne. He's..." And what was the proper term now? Legal guardian didn't count anymore. My Godfather? My incredibly scary father figure? Batman? "...a friend."

 

Clark clearly didn't like it, but after a few more seconds he finally released the arm. He didn't step back. Bruce pulled his hand away, and though he didn't rub at his forearm Lex could tell he wanted to.

 

He felt like doing something ridiculous like hugging Clark. Maybe he would later when his dick wasn't busy showing him just how happy it was.

 

"I see." Clark's voice wasn't any warmer. There was no attempt at apology, no introduction of himself. His good small town manners were probably turning over in the grave they'd just hurled themselves into.

 

Lex cleared his throat. "Why are you here, Bruce?"

 

"Why do you think I'm here?" The anger flared in his eyes. "You run out of the house like a madman the day you arrive, and Enrique finds your car with its door wide open on the edge of a forest with you nowhere in sight."

 

Fuck. "He called Alfred," Lex guessed, though it wasn't much of a leap.

 

"Who told me." Bruce confirmed. "So I had to come all the way to Smallville to see what trouble you were in this time."

 

That was bullshit and they both knew it. Lex never got into trouble. Well, rarely. He'd been busy for most of his life dealing with his gifts and their consequences. He hadn't had *time* for trouble.

 

And then he got it.

 

Bruce was worried about him. Bruce Wayne, master of the subtle facial expression, the man who could be spokesperson for Botox even though he'd never used the stuff (well, not for its intended purpose), was actually *worried* about him.

 

Lex couldn't stop it from coming out, even though he should have. This day was turning out to be far, far too good. "It's cute that you care, Bruce."

 

There it was. Death glare. Oh well, it'd been fun while it lasted. Regretfully pulling away from Clark, Lex asked him to wait there while he led Bruce a few dozen feet away.

 

He heard everything Bruce said – something about the car battery dying – but he didn’t really *hear* it; his gaze kept drifting over Bruce's shoulder to see where Clark was standing unhappily by the car. Mrs Kent had come out of the house now, and was moving towards them as she frowned. Lex could only be thankful that Mr Kent was still out in the fields.

 

Eventually Bruce finished saying whatever it was he was saying, Lex produced some kind of apology, and they moved back towards the others.

 

Martha was standing next to Clark now, her frown even deeper as she addressed Bruce. "Hello. I'm Martha Kent. This is my son, Clark." She held out her hand.

 

Bruce took it, putting his game face on. "Bruce Wayne."

 

Her hand stilled as she obviously recognised the name. Lex was a little surprised. Bruce was well known, but it wasn't like this was a big city. "I'm surprised to see you in Smallville."

 

He shrugged as he released her hand. "I wouldn't have come, but unfortunately Lex did something...foolish."

 

Her lips pursed together. "I don't know what it was that he did that was 'foolish', but he did save my son's life last night. I'd say that earns him a little leeway."

 

Oh, *fuck*. Lex was so fucking in love with her.

 

As if she hadn't said anything at all, she suddenly smiled brightly. "Would you like to come in for some coffee, Mr Wayne?"

 

"No thank you Mrs Kent." He nodded curtly. "I really should get Lex back to the castle so Enrique can stop worrying."

 

She probably had no idea who Enrique was but she accepted the reply, and as Bruce said his goodbyes and opened the car door, Lex realised he was supposed to go with him.

 

He also realised that he didn't want to.

 

"Hey Lex," Clark began, looking much happier than just a few minutes ago, "you busy tomorrow night?"

 

Tomorrow night. Scheduled meeting with the LuthorCorp Managing Director's because it was the only time they all had free. "No, nothing planned. What did you have in mind?"

 

"Well a tour of the farm will only get you so far," he grinned, "how 'bout I show you around Smallville after school tomorrow?"

 

School. Yes. Clark was in school. Best to remember that. "Sounds wonderful, Clark. Which school is it?"

 

Clark rolled his eyes as if it were obvious. "Smallville High."

 

Okay, maybe it had been obvious. "I'll meet you there when school finishes? Provided it's okay with your mom of course..." He looked towards her hopefully.

 

"Oh, of course!" She said, as if the very idea of saying no were preposterous.

 

"Thank you. For everything." He added. "You didn’t have to."

 

Now they both rolled their eyes. Another family trait.

 

Chuckling mostly to himself, Lex said goodbye and moved to step around to the other side of the car, surprised but pleased when he realised Clark was following him. Pausing with his hand on the door handle, he turned to look back at his new-found friend. "Clark..." He'd been too distracted to realise it before, but he should have thought of it when he hadn't seen his car anywhere on the farm. "If you didn't put me in my car and drive us here last night, how *did* you get me home?"

 

Clark lowered his head. Shuffled his feet. Blushed. "I carried you."

 

Lex grinned all the way back to the castle, ignored Bruce's presence the entire time, and read Warrior Angel comics until he fell asleep.

 

He should have realised the fact that Bruce didn't say a word the entire evening was bad news.

 

*

 

Lex rose from sleep feeling as good as he had the morning before; maybe even more so. Two nights in a row of good sleep was something he'd become unaccustomed to lately, and his body - perhaps even his spirits - felt renewed.

 

He could feel the presence of the others in the house (and especially *him*) but Lex didn't let it bother him, instead heading for the shower. Usually when he showered it was fast, perfunctory, but today he let the water run over him almost endlessly until the skin on his fingers had long since puckered. As he stepped out and started drying off, he caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He was...happy. No one was there making him laugh, he was as alone as he was capable of being. He was just...smiling. For no apparent reason.

 

When he'd finished in the bathroom he walked into the bedroom and started looking through the drawers and closets, seeing where everything had been placed. Eventually deciding on his only pair of jeans and a grey t-shirt, he started dressing just as his stomach rumbled. Realising he hadn't eaten anything the night before (Enrique had offered but Lex hadn't been hungry at the time, too busy reading how Warrior Angel and Devilicus first met) Lex quickly finished dressing then went off in search of food.

 

Bruce was already in the room when he walked in of course, sitting at the far end of the table with his nose stuck in a newspaper. Greeting him briefly Lex received a grunt in reply, and even though they were in a completely different building some habits just died too hard, and Lex did what he always did - he chose the seat as far away from Bruce as possible.

 

He'd barely arrived when Enrique appeared as if from nowhere (transporter technology? Did all butlers have a secret underground lab or something?) and began pouring him coffee, before moving to the far end of the table to refill Bruce's cup. Spying an assortment of dishes on a table at the side of the room, Lex stood up and began helping himself. His stomach told him to get everything and for once he decided to listen to it, piling as much food as he could onto his plate.

 

As he carefully sat back down - the fried tomato on the edge of his plate was threatening suicide - Enrique asked if Lex always wanted to get his own food, as that was usually his job. Lex let it lie for now, but as soon as Bruce was gone he was implementing changes in the usual 'butlery' behaviour.

 

Speaking of Bruce...Lex eyed him suspiciously as he bit into a freshly buttered slice of toast. He hadn't said a word which wasn't all that unusual - this was *Bruce* - but still, he'd expected some kind of inquisition. Deciding he wasn't going to question his good fortune, Lex got down to the very serious business of enjoying his breakfast.

 

Maybe it was something about all the food grown in Smallville, because it tasted wonderful. Not quite as wonderful as Mrs Kent's, but still a damn sight better than what he was accustomed to. Maybe-

 

"Tell me about Clark."

 

Ah. It was alive. Though it still wasn't looking up from its newspaper.

 

Lex swallowed his latest bite of toast, lowered his hand, and lied through his teeth. "Not much to tell. I had a vision he was in trouble, I helped him, the end."

 

The paper crackled loudly as a page was turned and folded behind. "Doesn't explain why the car was left at the side of the road."

 

Of course it didn't explain it. Bruce wasn't stupid. Well, apart from that Selina thing... "It's been a long few weeks. I guess the exhaustion got to me."

 

"So you fainted."

 

His good mood was rapidly deteriorating. "I passed out."

 

"Doesn't seem like much of a difference to me." He pulled the paper a little closer to his face as he focused on something specific.

 

"Yes well," Lex ground his teeth together. His dentist was going to kill him. Again. "You're not a doctor, now are you?"

 

"True." Bruce conceded, which was a little surprising. Apparently having said all he had to say, he picked up his coffee with his free hand and took a healthy gulp,

 

Mentally shrugging Lex gratefully returned to his food. He'd just placed a piece of fried tomato in his mouth when Bruce spoke again. *Still* not looking up.

 

"So you faint...sorry, passed out. And this kid carried you all the way home?"

 

If Bruce insisted on talking about this while he was eating, he could damn well get used to Lex *still* eating while he talked. "That's right."

 

"Must be strong."

 

Lex didn't tense his body, didn't suddenly stop chewing. He didn't show a thing. "Lives on a farm. Must require a lot of physical activity." And now he had something to ask. "How did you know I was at the Kent farm anyway?"

 

Bruce seemed vaguely...uncomfortable at the question. Interesting. "I didn't."

 

Lex frowned. "You can't tell me you were going from house to house. The population may be smaller than Gotham, but that doesn't mean it still wouldn't take a long..." He remembered what'd happened on the way to Smallville, and suddenly he had his answer. "Where did you put it?"

 

"Where did I put what?"

 

No way. No way was he falling for that. "Where did you *put it*?"

 

Finally, finally looking up, Bruce frowned at him. "What are you talking about?"

 

Cursing, Lex pushed himself up from the table and ran out the room. Bruce's voice was behind him but Lex kept running, up the stairs, along the hallway and into his bedroom. Then in the adjoining bathroom, emptying the laundry basket onto the floor, his hands feeling over every inch of his dirty clothes. Finding nothing and brushing by - pushing by - Bruce, picking up one of his shoes from yesterday and hitting it on the side of the table once, twice-

 

-and there. There it was.

 

Pulling it out, Lex let the shoe with the now ruined heel thump to the floor and held the tracking device up to Bruce's face. Lex was *livid*. "What the fuck is *wrong* with you? I know you're screwed up, but are you really such a control freak that you can't let me have even *one* fucking day to myself?"

 

Bruce was trying to say *something* but Lex was beyond hearing it. For the second time in as many days he ran out of the castle and drove off.

 

He had no idea where he was even going because he didn't know where anything in Smallville was save for the castle, the plant and the Kent Farm.

 

*The Kent farm*.

 

The decision made, he was there not long after. Parking as close as he dared, Lex locked up the car and kept a wary eye out for the Kents. Once he was sure no one was able to see him he made a beeline for the barn. It was pathetic this...this running away, but as soon as he was up in the 'fortress' he immediately started to feel better. It was just a structure made of wood, but there was something calming about it. Comforting. Maybe it was simply because of the people it belonged to.

 

Or person.

 

Staying well away from the hatch, Lex flopped down onto the old sofa and hoped this hadn't been a really, really bad idea.

 

*

 

Something was prodding his arm.

 

"Hello?"

 

Something was pushing his arm.

 

"Hey, Lex."

 

Something was touching his face.

 

"Lex?"

 

Sleepily opening his eyes, Lex smiled softly when he saw Clark looking back at him. This was a really nice way to-he jerked, sitting up, causing Clark to stumble back. Shit! He looked at his watch. "Shit, I'm sorry Clark, I didn't mean to..." Wait. "Shouldn't you still be at school?"

 

Clark shook his head. "Study period. I forgot something I needed for school."

 

So came home to get it. Okay. A little embarrassed at dozing off and being caught there at all...okay, a *lot* embarrassed, Lex shifted until he was sitting up properly, instead of sprawled across the sofa. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...I just really needed to be *alone* and I don't know anywhere else yet..."

 

Clark smiled softly. "It's okay. Mom saw you come in here so when I got home she told me where to find you."

 

So much for being covert. He almost blushed. Damn. "Again, I'm really-"

 

"Will you stop apologising?" Clark complained, moving to sit down next to him. "Something's obviously up. What happened?"

 

God, he was *perfect*. Lex turned his head away, staring down at the floor. He thought over his options and eventually found himself deciding on the truth. "I *hate* Bruce." That felt so good to say.

 

There was a soft chuckle in response. "Well I can't say I like the guy either."

 

Lex smiled at the floor before turning that smile towards Clark. "You've met him once, Clark. I've had a good fourteen years to get down to the really good loathing."

 

He shrugged. "I didn't like the way he treated you. It was like he owned you or something."

 

Some days it felt like it. "Not entirely."

 

"How do you two know each other?"

 

"He raised me." He paused to nod at Clark's surprised expression. "Mom died in childbirth - complications. My father died a few years later. There was no other family left, and Bruce had agreed to be my Godfather. I still have no idea how my father managed to get him to agree to it." It was one of several mysteries in his life. He'd always assumed there'd been some kind of boardroom deal.

 

"Wow." Clark said eventually. "I can't imagine what that must have been like."

 

"Screwed up?" Lex offered, but tried to soften it with a smile.

 

"Regardless," Clark said in response, "you really are welcome to come up here anytime you need to. Whether I'm here or not."

 

That was...that was...amazing. This was Clark's sanctuary, his own private place away from everything else. The fact that he'd willingly share it was something Lex wasn't sure he could identify. He could have argued, but knew he'd just earn himself another set of rolled eyes. "Thank you Clark. Really. That means a lot to me."

 

A huge beaming grin, and then Clark slapped his thighs and stood up, extending a hand out to Lex. "Come on then. I have to get back to school soon, and as I understand it there are a couple of cookies indoors with our names on them."

 

Deciding not to ask Clark if he was actually supposed to leave the school premises during study period, Lex gladly took the hand that was offered and pulled himself to his feet.

 

When they walked into the house and subsequently the kitchen, Lex was surprised and pleased to see that the aforementioned cookies did actually have their names on them.

 

In icing.

 

*

 

Lex spent the afternoon in a considerably better mood despite the fact he spent most of the time on his cell phone trying to rearrange the meeting with the MDs.

 

There was a voice mail message waiting for him the entire time. A single, solitary message that he knew was from Bruce even before he saw the caller ID.

 

He ignored it.

 

Smallville High School seemed the very epitome of small town life as he leant against the side of a car that wouldn't have looked out of place at a funeral.

 

When the bell rang and the students poured out of the building, Lex couldn't help but stare. The noise from inside the school had been noticeable enough, but as soon as the kids burst forth Lex was reminded of why he tried to avoid such large crowds. He was certainly capable of handling it by now, but it was still vaguely uncomfortable so Lex tried to ignore it by concentrating on looking for Clark.

 

Lex had missed out on almost the entire school experience. It just hadn't been practical when he was young and with no real control over what he could do - it'd been some time until he was able to cope with more than the two minds that inhabited Wayne Manor. In the end Lex had been almost entirely home taught, mostly by a specialised tutor. He'd never been entirely sure what that meant.

 

Sometimes, when he found time between his duties, Alfred would read to him from history books. Lex had liked those days the most.

 

Bruce hadn't had much time for the weird, bald kid until he'd started being useful; but he kept Bruce's secret, Bruce kept his secret, and at a basic level they worked well together. Lex would have a vision of someone in trouble, give Bruce the details, and Batman would go roaring off in that damn car of his.

 

It was reassuringly simple. It was the only part of their relationship that was that way.

 

He'd tried not to wonder what it was he'd missed out on, but it was getting harder and harder with each passing year. And he certainly hadn't mentioned his unusual upbringing to Clark.

 

As if on cue he spied Clark among the crowd, watching as Clark said goodbye to the friends he was with - a girl and a boy - and then jogged over to the car. Pausing a few feet away with his rucksack thrown over his shoulder, Clark whistled in appreciation.

 

Lex smirked. "It's not mine. I may have - completely inadvertantly - taken Bruce's car when I left the castle this morning." And still hadn't returned. "More than likely the car I came to Smallville in still has a flat battery." He should probably look into that.

 

Clark was still eyeing the car warily, and Lex realised that he was actually waiting to be asked inside. Christ. "Get in, Clark."

 

He moved instantly, all but bouncing as he opened the passenger side door and hopped inside. Lex chuckled as he slid into his own seat, but it didn't escape his notice that the car had rocked a little too much as Clark sat down.

 

"So Clark," he began, starting the engine and doing his best not to mow down the youngest members of Smallville society, despite the suicide pacts some of them seemed to have formed. "You never did explain exactly what you were doing in the forest in the first place."

 

Clark shrugged but even from the corner of his eye Lex could tell it looked false. "Nothing much. I was just going for a run."

 

Hmm. "Through a forest?"

 

"Sure. I like to run. It wasn't until I stopped that I even realised that the, uh, stuff that causes my allergies was there."

 

"And your allergies kicked in?"

 

"Right."

 

There was no choice. Lex was going to have to gather as many of those 'rocks' as he could and run a battery of tests on them. If they were something that could hurt Clark...but enough of that for now. "Where to, MacDuff?"

 

Grinning, relieved, Clark led the way, giving directions between pointing out places of interest. After a few minutes it felt very much to Lex as if Clark's idea of 'place of interest' was just about any building that wasn't a house, but he decided not to say anything. It was sort of...*nice*, and Clark was still in school, Clark was still in school, he'd just picked Clark *up* from school and he really had to remember that. Lex didn't know what he was so worried about anyway. He'd never jumped anyone in his entire life, and he doubted he was about to start now.

 

When they reached what was apparently Smallville's main street, Clark pointed out a good place to park and they left the car behind. Lex had to admit that walking made it more interesting. There was the old movie theater that had shut down recently (Clark still mourned its demise), Smallville Savings and Loan, Fordham's General Store, the optometrists, and as they approached the florist Clark told him he needed to get something. Lex followed him inside, looking around the shop curiously.

 

Approaching the woman behind the counter Clark greeted her warmly and was greeted just as warmly in return. She was attractive with long, dark hair and looked to be about the same age as Clark's mother.

 

"Hey Lex," Clark called, "come over here a minute."

 

Realising that he was going to be 'introduced', Lex plastered a smile onto his face. "Yes Clark?"

 

Clark gestured towards the woman. "Lex, I'd like you to meet Mrs Lang. Mrs Lang, Lex Luthor."

 

Lex held his hand out over the counter. "A pleasure Mrs Lang."

 

She took it, nodding as she smiled. "Laura, please. And likewise." There was a...tension he could feel behind her smile, though she hid it well. She knew who he was. He wouldn't be surprised if everyone in this town knew who he was if the cliche's about small town gossip were true.

 

"Lex," he replied, releasing her hand.

 

Smiling a little more easily, she turned her attention back to Clark. "What can I get you Clark? Your usual?"

 

"Thanks, Mrs Lang. That'd be great."

 

Lex was a little surprisd when she stepped out from behind the counter to pluck a sunflower out of one of the displays, but he kept his confusion to himself until they'd paid and left the shop. Once out on the sidewalk, Lex asked.

 

"Clark?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

"What's with the sunflower? Don't you have like...a ton of them at home?" He'd seen several planted around the edge of the yard, and more than one inside the house as part of some kind of decoration.

 

Seeming a little embarrassed, Clark shrugged and lowered his head. "It's just...there was a meteor shower here a few years back. She lost her daughter *and* her sister. I guess I just kinda feel bad about it."

 

"So you buy things you don't need from her?" Clark was really something else. "I doubt she wants your pity, Clark. She seems to be doing well now and-"

 

"Lex," Clark interrupted, stopping to turn and face him, "this is just something I *do*. Okay?"

 

Surprised but trying not to show it, Lex held his ground. "Okay. But trying to make up for everyone who suffered in that meteor shower equals a lot of flowers." He wondered after he'd spoken if he'd given too much away, but Clark didn't look confused, just upset.

 

"I know." He paused. Lex hated himself. "Let's go to The Beanery."

 

Lex had no idea what a beanery was but didn't let that dim his enthusiasm. "Sure, the beanery. Sounds great."

 

Looking a little like his old self, Clark smiled slightly and started walking again. "It's where everyone hangs out."

 

It became rapidly apparent that The Beanery was a coffee shop, and with it being the place where 'everyone' hung out, Lex couldn't help but wonder if he was stuck inside a sitcom.

 

That would actually explain a lot.

 

After being introduced to the man behind the counter (this was becoming a recurring theme, Lex noticed) and giving their order, he was directed to a table that already had two occupants seated. If Lex wasn't mistaken, they were the same friends he'd seen Clark at school with.

 

Clark made the introductions, and Lex soon found himself sitting opposite Chloe Sullivan and Pete Ross.

 

"Hello." Lex said. "Nice to meet you."

 

They stared at him.

 

Chloe, at least, seemed genuinely curious. Pete just looked homicidal.

 

"So Lex Luthor, huh?" Chloe asked. "What was it like being raised by Bruce Wayne?"

 

This girl had way too much information. Not that it was a secret, but Lex found himself glancing towards Clark who quickly shook his head. "Hell." He replied, turning his head back towards her. Her mind was buzzing, trying to figure him out. "What's it like being a reporter?"

 

Her eyes widened. Yes. "How did you know?"

 

Lex shrugged, smirking. "Intuition."

 

Smiling fully, she held out her hand for a proper introduction. Lex saw evidence of scarring on her arm but he'd seen much worse on much younger so paid it no attention. "Chloe Sullivan, editor of The Torch."

 

Lex shook her hand. "The Torch?"

 

"The school newspaper," she announced proudly.

 

"Oh." Lex said, before feeling an elbow in his side. "That sounds fascinating."

 

Releasing her hand, he turned to Pete.

 

Who was still glaring. Had Lex been incapable of sensing the hostility coming from Pete's direction, the facial expression alone would have convinced him.

 

Clark stood up. "I'm gonna go see how our order's going. Be right back."

 

Wait. No. Clark was leaving him. Clark was leaving him *alone* with a hyperactive would-be reporter and a boy who looked like he wanted to fillet him for dinner. Feeling the brief touch of Clark's hand to his shoulder, Lex realised that this was in fact *intentional*. Clark wanted them to...get along.

 

Joy.

 

*

 

The sky had just started to darken by the time Lex pulled up outside the Kent farm and flicked off the engine. "I don't think Pete likes me," he announced, not that it was a surprise to either of them.

 

Clark winced. "Yeah, sorry. I'm sure it's not you. I'll get it out of him, don't worry."

 

"That's okay," Lex said, "they don't *have* to like me."

 

"No," Clark agreed. "It'd just be nice if they did. I like it when my friends get along."

 

"Are we friends, Clark?"

 

He nodded as he smiled. "Yeah, Lex. I'd like if we could be friends."

 

"So would I." And really, he felt like they already were. "Thanks for showing me around. I had a good time."

 

"Me too," Clark smiled, picking his rucksack up from where it'd fallen between his feet, "and now you owe me one. You have to take me somewhere on Thursday. Someplace you've found and liked yourself. Someplace I haven't taken you."

 

Shaking his head, Lex chuckled. "Fine, Clark. Give me a call if it has to be a certain time." Really, it was just *nice* the way Clark was trying to help him fit in.

 

"You bet," Clark said, paused for a moment, and then was out of the car.

 

Lex didn't remember *seeing* it happen, but he could sworn he'd felt the brush of, well, *lips* against his right cheek.

 

Confused, he lowered his head, and as he did so he caught sight of the sunflower across the passenger seat. "Clark!" He picked it up, calling out through the open window. "You forgot your sunflower!"

 

Having reached the porch, Clark turned around to face him and smiled. "That's okay. You keep it." The door slammed behind him as he went into the house.

 

Frowning, Lex stared at the sunflower in his left hand, as his other hand came up to rub his face. Peck on the cheek. Sunflower. Kiss. Flower.

 

Kiss.

 

Flower.

 

Lex's mind put together everything he thought he knew about small town teenage boys.

 

Holy shit, had he just been on a *date*?

 

*

 

Lex didn't wake up the next morning feeling as good as he had the day before mostly because he didn't actually wake up at all. After his 'revelation' the evening before, sleep had been impossible - something he found nicely ironic.

 

Most of the night had been spent laying in bed trying to sleep, but what 'trying to sleep' evidently meant was 'trying to decide if he had actually been on a date or if he was overreacting'. Despite the hours spent doing nothing but thinking Lex was no closer to reaching a conclusion. On one hand, introducing Lex to the locals as well as Clark's friends could simply be a friend thing. Showing the new guy around. Clark was just trying to make him comfortable.

 

On the other hand there was the sunflower, and the kiss that Lex was almost certain now he hadn't imagined. Guys just didn't give other guys flowers, even something as atypical as a sunflower. And as for the kiss...

 

He could just imagine Jonathan Kent sitting a young Clark down to give him wholesome Smallvillian dating advice. A fatherly hand would have clapped down on Clark's shoulder as he dispensed his wisdom, having no idea that at some point down the line Clark would end up using that very advice on another guy instead of some perky member of the cheerleading squad.

 

*If* that was what Clark was actually doing. Lex just didn't *know*. He barely had anything to compare it to – romance was something else that had passed him by.

 

His life being the way it was he hadn't had much opportunity, and he'd already half-convinced himself that some people were just meant to be alone. Add on to that the fact that he was somewhat terrified of getting too close to someone else's mind the way he knew he'd end up getting if he had that kind of relationship, and life just seemed much less complicated if he avoided romance entirely.

 

If somewhat lonely.

 

He wouldn't have that problem with Clark, and for reasons he wasn't ready to analyse right now that was even more terrifying.

 

The only thing Lex *was* sure of was that regardless of whether they were actually dating or not, he had to tell Clark the truth before their relationship progressed in any way at all.

 

Eyeing the alarm clock on the bedside table, Lex saw that it was nearly 6am and judged that a decent time to get up. A shower and a change of clothes later he explored the house, finding Bruce sitting exactly where he'd been sitting the previous morning.

 

Maybe he'd been welded to the chair and the newspaper had been glued to his hands.

 

He'd known he'd be there of course, having sensed his mind the entire night. Bruce didn't sleep much. "What are you still doing here?" Lex asked, feeling understandably grouchy. "Shouldn't you be back in Gotham by now, doing," he mimicked two wings flapping together with his hands, "your job?"

 

"Alfred keeps me informed." Bruce said quietly. "If anything important comes up he'll let me know."

 

Sighing, Lex turned away and began to leave the room, but even though Bruce hadn't looked up at him in a repeat performance of yesterday, Lex could feel those dark eyes watching him as he walked away. "Look," he said, annoyed with himself even as he turned in the doorway to face Bruce, "whatever twisted reason you think I came here for, it's not true."

 

Finally lowering the paper, Bruce rose his eyebrows. "I think you like him. I think he likes you."

 

"So there's something wrong with being friends?"

 

"If you like each other in a way that's illegal in the state of Kansas, yes."

 

Shit. "*Nothing* is going to happen." Lex ground out.

 

A tiny smirk pushed at Bruce's lips. "I'm not entirely sure you have any say in that."

 

What the fuck? "Bruce, I've been resisting what *I* want my entire fucking life. I'm good at it." Too good. "And despite what you think, this isn't just about that."

 

"What is it about then?"

 

Lex wasn't about to tell him that truth, but he had to give him something - Bruce would never let it rest otherwise. "You don't get it, do you?" He stared at Bruce, knowing why he didn't understand. He'd never had friends either. "I've never had a friend who didn't leave me."

 

Shit. Shit. That was too much. He never gave that much of himself away, not to *Bruce*, but instead of running this time he calmly walked out of the room, climbed upstairs and locked himself in the bathroom.

 

If he'd had a psychologist, he knew they would have said something about this type of behaviour.

 

He felt Bruce waiting outside for a long time, and was actually a little surprised when he spoke through the door.

 

"You had friends, Lex. You were good at making friends. You always made them leave."

 

But that was for *them*, so they could be normal, so they could be-

 

"You're a good friend, Lex. Too good."

 

-loved.

 

*

 

Rather than worry too much over his impending conversation with Clark, Lex spent the next few days trying to keep himself busy. He made several visits to the plant and acquainted himself with more of the staff and the general operations, which ended up distracting him for two entire days.

 

On Thursday morning he found himself clicking around online on his newly acquired computer, searching for news on Smallville. To his surprise he discovered that the Smallville Torch actually had an online edition so he spent several hours reading over the online archives. As the minutes passed his disbelief steadily grew until he could only reach one conclusion:

 

Smallville was a weird ass town.

 

Boys who could freeze people alive? Bug boys? Old men who de-aged overnight? This read less like a school newspaper and more like a supermarket rag.

 

There was only one reason Lex kept reading. Well, two. One was that more than once Chloe postulated that the meteors might be responsible, a theory that certainly intrigued Lex. He'd always assumed that it was the sudden impact his brain had gone through that had changed his life, and not the actual meteors themselves. But if she was right it could explain a lot of things. Including what Clark could do.

 

The second reason was Clark himself, because it seemed as if whenever anyone was in danger Clark was at hand to save the day. The boy was a regular hero, but from the rare quotes attributed to him he always downplayed his involvement and instead praised the role of the emergency services.

 

Lex needed more.

 

With a fresh new battery installed in his car, Lex soon arrived at Smallville High. He regretted the need to go in, feeling the pressure on his mind, but he strode in as if he belonged. Luckily the Torch headquarters were pretty well sign posted (something told him Chloe Sullivan had personally designed, made and put up every single sign he saw), and in a matter of minutes he was standing in the doorway of the Torch office.

 

No one was there, so Lex stepped inside and peered around. The walls were colourful, almost too much so, but otherwise it looked like organised chaos. Very much a student newspaper.

 

And then he saw the wall next to the doorway.

 

Hundreds of clippings, pictures, maps and drawings; all of them exclaiming weird and terrible things happening in Smallville, KS. Moving closer, Lex studied it as best he could. This meteor thing was much bigger than he'd suspected. This thing was-

 

Someone was coming.

 

He moved away from the wall just as Chloe walked into the room. She didn't see him at first, throwing her bag onto a chair and picking up several pieces of paper from a desk. It wasn't until she turned slightly and lifted her head that she realised he was there.

 

"Oh! Mr Luthor!"

 

"Miss Sullivan," he greeted, "do any of the students here actually do any school work?"

 

Grinning, she cast the papers back onto the desk. "I get a pass sometimes to come work on the paper. It's a lot of work."

 

"I'm sure it is." He replied, nodding towards the wall. "I have to say I find your theories on the meteorites interesting. I wouldn't mind reading more."

 

She stared at him. "You've been reading my work?"

 

"Of course." Lex nodded, smiling. "Makes for interesting reading."

 

Her grin brightened. She did that a lot. "That's one way of putting it. Another would be creepifying."

 

He probably should have been worried that a budding journalist used words like 'creepifying', but pointing that out now wouldn't put him in her good graces. "Do you have any more information about the meteors that I could read?"

 

Folding her arms across her chest, she regarded him seriously for a few moments before relaxing her stance. "Any friend of Clark's..." She pointed at the wall and then walked towards it. "There's this. I call it the 'Wall of Weird'." She seemed ridiculously pleased with the name. "Anytime anything remotely strange goes on in Smallville, it goes up on here whether it can be proven or not. Then there are a few stories Kwan wouldn't let me run." She glared at the wall as if this Kwan person – probably the Principal, Lex realised – were standing there instead. "I still have those on file."

 

He tried to look friendly. "Anything you can give me would be greatly appreciated."

 

"Sure," she said, but returned to looking at the articles on the wall with him. "You know, you're the only person apart from Clark who didn't stare at my arm the first time they met me."

 

Surprised, he blinked. "You're the only person apart from Clark who didn't stare at my head the first time they met me." People tried to hide their curiousity, but most of them were very very bad at it.

 

"House fire." She stared at the wall. "Mother died."

 

"Meteor shower." He replied calmly. "Father died."

 

"I know," she said, and he turned to look at her. "I did a little research after meeting you the other day. I don't think it's common knowledge around here that you were even in Smallville that day."

 

"That's probably for the best."

 

"Does Clark know?"

 

Interesting that she should ask that. Interesting that he should feel compelled to speak so carefully. "I doubt it."

 

She met his gaze. "You should tell him."

 

"Yeah." He agreed. He probably should.

 

*

 

He could tell Clark was confused by his silence in the car. Clark started speaking a few times asking if Lex was all right, but Lex couldn't lie to him about that and asked him to wait until they reached their destination.

 

He'd driven past the place they were going several times as he'd gone back and forth from the plant, but it was only during the last trip that he'd actually driven up the little road that intrigued him. Lex still didn't know where it eventually led to, because about five minutes after turning onto the gravel road he'd stopped.

 

It was a simple thing, really. A fenced off field – not of corn, thank God – with a tree just off to one side. The small road led off to someplace unknown, and there were no buildings as far as the eye could see. It was just...perfect.

 

It looked just as he remembered it when he pulled off the side of the road and took his key out of the ignition. Well, here they were. This would probably be a lot easier if he didn't actually look at Clark. He focused on the dashboard. "Clark, there's something I need to tell-"

 

"I'm gay."

 

It felt as if all the blood drained from his face, which was just as well because all of his missing colour seemed to be turning up on Clark's face. He was bright, bright red, as if he couldn't believe he'd just blurted that out.

 

Lex couldn't quite believe it himself. Part of him was *ecstatic* at knowing, part of him was terrified, and another part was amazed at the almost dual personality Clark had. He wavered all the time between overconfidence and no confidence at all, which made him all the more unpredictable. "That's not what I need to talk about," Lex said softly.

 

"Oh." Clark looked away, and it was absolutely impossible to misread the rejection in his voice.

 

"Don't...misunderstand." Lex reached out hesitantly, but didn't actually touch him. "That's something I definitely want to discuss. Soon. Just not right now."

 

Clark peeked at him, still looking embarrassed. "What is it then?"

 

Lex opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. This was the wrong place to do this. "Come on. Let's do this outside." Confined space didn't seem like a good idea.

 

As he leant carefully against the hood of the car and Clark paced absently in front of the tree, Lex began to talk.

 

"When I was a child my father brought me to Smallville." Clark's eyes widened automatically. "He was buying up the local creamed corn factory, and though I was much too young to completely understand everything that was going on, he was trying to teach me about the business already. Needless to say I soon got bored. I was a kid," he offered, finding something to smile about. "I wandered off into a cornfield, and it didn't take long until I got lost. I was just starting to panic when I heard the noise. I looked up, and the sky was falling. I heard my father's voice and ran towards it...and then the meteor hit." Red. So much *red*. "When I woke up in hospital five days later my father was dead. I was barely aware of anything and when I woke up again I was in Wayne Manor. That was when I knew something had changed. Bruce was leaning over me and...I could see his thoughts." He lifted his head up. "I could read his mind. I didn't stop screaming for three days."

 

Clark looked very, very much as if he wanted to run away.

 

Lex kept talking. "A few months later I had my first vision. I saw someone in pain, crying out. I told Bruce what I could," he couldn't tell Clark about Batman; that wasn't Lex's secret to tell, "and he managed to track them down. Rescue them. At first we just got the people I saw out of immediate danger, but as I grew older it became apparent to me that sometimes that wasn't enough. So after we rescued them, I'd look after them. What I actually did for them varied in different ways. Sometimes they just wanted someone to watch television with. Sometimes they wanted a friend. Sometimes they wanted to die. I never helped them with that one, but sometimes they died anyway." Amy in the bath, and Lex feeling every single piece of her leave. "And then one day I met a boy called Ryan."

 

Clark had long since stopped walking, but now he looked completely frozen in place.

 

"He was different from the others; he had a gift a lot like mine. He told me about a friend who helped him, but after this friend helped him Ryan's parents found him again. They were...taken care of." The hands at Clark's sides had formed into fists. "And I did what I could to take care of Ryan. I think he really was...happy, for a while. I was going to get him to a good family, one who'd be able to handle what he could do. But then...we found the brain tumour."

 

"Tumour?" Clark breathed out.

 

Lex licked his lips. "I'm so sorry Clark."

 

"Oh God," Clark turned away, his voice breaking, his right hand blindly reaching out to lean against the tree.

 

Eyes burning, Lex stood away from the car and stepped towards Clark. "He asked me to watch over you, Clark. He knew you were special and I know it too. He never told me specifically what you could do, but sometimes he'd accidentally show me things. I know you're strong. I," he licked his lips again, "I think you're fast, too. But it doesn't matter, Clark. I promised Ryan that I'd help you, protect you. *That*'s why I'm here."

 

He couldn't even imagine what it must be like, trying to assimilate this all at once, but Clark had to know the truth. Lex would never be any use if he kept lying to him.

 

"You," Clark's voice was heavy, yet barely there, "you can read my mind?"

 

"No." Lex replied. "I try not to read anyone's mind without their permission anyway, but with you...there's nothing at all. Just like Ryan."

 

"Just like Ryan." Clark whispered. "Shit, I have to...I have to go, Lex."

 

He'd expected something like this, but that still didn't stop the disappointment that flooded through him. "I understand. Do you want me to drop you anywhere?"

 

"No." He answered, lowering his hand as he moved from the tree, stepping onto the road and walking away. Not looking back. Not looking back.

 

"No. I think I'll run."

 

*

 

Two days after telling Clark the truth, Lex hadn't heard from him.

 

He attended meetings, made necessary phone calls, and had a business lunch with the managers running the plant. Slowly, ever so slowly, it was starting to have an effect. With every meeting their distrust faltered - Lex could feel their paranoia slowly starting to slip away. It didn't leave completely; he suspected that level of trust would take a long time, if it ever happened at all. Yet...they were starting to believe in him. Hoped that he wasn't there to do what his father had threatened but never had a chance to accomplish.

 

*

 

Four days after telling Clark the truth, Lex hadn't heard from him.

 

With opinions of him improving at the plant, Lex started working on the reason he'd come to Smallville in the first place. His initial cursory investigation (he wouldn't trust anyone else to do it for him) provided some surprising information.

 

Clark was adopted.

 

In hindsight it should have been obvious - Clark bore no physical similarity to his parents - but there was such a...*Kentness* about him that made the idea of anyone else being his parents ridiculous.

 

There was other information. The farm was staying on its feet, but only just. Heavily in debt, Lex could imagine it'd only be a few more years before their situation started becoming a serious problem. It was something he'd be happy to help them with, but he already knew Jonathan Kent well enough to know that he'd never accept money. Advice, maybe. Lex could hire the best business analysts in the world, and Mr Kent would never have to know.

 

The farm had been passed on from father to son, and Lex wasn't at all surprised to discover that Martha Kent originally hailed from Metropolis - and from a family that would be almost as out of place in Smallville as Bruce was. He wasn't sure why it wasn't much of a shock. Maybe because although he'd never seen anyone look more at home than she had on the farm, he'd still always known there'd been something more to her.

 

Then there were the meteorites. He had the paperwork Chloe had given him, all of which he read over thoroughly, but he knew that wasn't going to be enough. He needed to see the meteorites himself, get them analysed, *understood*. If he could figure out why they hurt Clark, maybe he could devise some kind of resistance to them.

 

And yet...if the meteorites really were responsible for Clark being able to do what he could, why would they also be something that could hurt him? Was there something such as too *much* meteorite exposure? Something like an overdose?

 

He would have loved nothing more than to set up a lab somewhere in the bowels of the castle and investigate them himself. He was no scientist - there'd been no time for that kind of speciality – but he still would have liked the idea of at least *trying* to solve this personally.

 

With Bruce around there was no way that was going to happen. Lex already felt paranoid enough about snooping devices on his PC; he'd taken to examining the base unit closely every morning. Building a secret labratory was something that even Lex couldn't hide.

 

Reading up on the subject, he contacted a specialist who lived in Metropolis, a Dr Hamilton who categorised meteorites when he wasn't teaching at Met U. He'd been reluctant at first, but as soon as Lex had mentioned money he'd suddenly become a lot more interested.

 

It was useful, having money. But sometimes it made Lex frown.

 

So, after searching through the forest for several hours, Lex found a few likely candidates and had them sent off to Dr Hamilton. There was nothing else to do with the meteorites now but wait.

 

*

 

Seven days after telling Clark the truth, Lex hadn't heard from him.

 

Fordham's was a new experience for Lex. Clark had pointed it out when Lex had been given the tour, but they hadn't actually gone inside. The entire thing seemed very...practical. He could see all kinds of paraphernalia that obviously had some kind of farm use, though he would have been hard pressed to explain some of their functions.

 

Still, that didn't matter. Lex knew what he wanted.

 

He'd never had to do much in the way of clothes shopping. As he'd grown up suits and shirts had magically appeared in his closet, as if Alfred were some kind of clothes fairy (a notion Lex had yet to be entirely dissuaded of). Though he had, at some point, acquired a solitary pair of jeans and some plain t-shirts, he needed more.

 

Getting to know the people at the plant was all well and good, but the sooner the general populace got used to seeing him around the better. Anything, including clothing, that could help him fit in would be an advantage.

 

He eyed the row of shirts he'd just passed.

 

He was definitely drawing the line at plaid.

 

Coming to stop by the jean display in Fordham's small clothes section, Lex pondered his choices. There wasn't a lot to choose from but that was good; it'd make his decision easier-

 

Bruce.

 

He ducked, ridiculously, and then faked examining the legs of the jeans in case anyone saw him.

 

What the hell was Bruce doing in Fordham's? Lex may have been trying to blend in but Bruce would do everything he could to stand *out*. He wasn't sure exactly where Bruce was, but he could definitely feel his presence moving closer, closer, and Lex was deciding that maybe he should stand up and simply make the best of it when he felt someone else approaching. Wait. Was that...?

 

"Mrs Kent."

 

Martha.

 

"Mr Wayne? Looking for cowboy boots?"

 

Sniggering would be really bad. Apparently Bruce was still in Mrs Kent's bad books.

 

"Obviously not." Bruce retorted. "I actually wanted to talk to you about something."

 

Why on Earth would Bruce want to talk to Clark's mother...? Shit. Clark's *mother*. Maybe he should just stand up anyway.

 

Her amusement was obvious. "Have you been following me Mr Wayne?"

 

"Yes."

 

Even now Bruce's sheer *gall* was occasionally still capable of surprising Lex.

 

"I suppose I should feel flattered. What do you want to talk about?"

 

"Lex has been somewhat...despondent of late." Which was Bruce's way of saying Lex had been moping. He couldn't really deny it, but if anyone asked he was naturally planning on doing just that. "I suspect Clark may have something to do with it."

 

"What makes you think it has anything to do with my son? I'm sure I could think of *several* reasons why Lex could be upset that have nothing to do with Clark." Lex was loving/hating this. He couldn't remember anyone speaking to Bruce like that without having had the 'benefit' of living with him for fifteen years beforehand.

 

"Clark is the only person Lex has had any significant personal interaction with since arriving here." Jesus, who *spoke* like that? "Considering that he's been doing everything possible to avoid even being in the same building with me this last week, I haven't been close enough to do anything to upset him."

 

"Perhaps you underestimate your ability to annoy people even from a great distance."

 

"Perhaps," Bruce said dryly, and Lex could actually feel *warmth* coming from him. "Let me put this simply, Mrs Kent. I am here only to assess Lex's wellbeing. When I am assured of that I'll leave, but until then I will and must do everything in my power to see that he is satisfied. I don't expect you to understand, but the longer I stay away from Wayne Enterprises, the longer I leave my company at risk."

 

"Oh no," she mocked, and Lex swore he could almost see her anger, "I've only run a farm with my husband for the last twenty years. I have *no* idea what it's like running a business. Let *me* put it simply, Mr Wayne," she paused, gathering her breath, "Clark has also been upset this past week but refuses to give details, so I assumed it had something to do with Lex. Quite frankly I don't care anymore, because now that I realise he had *you* for a father figure I doubt he could ever be blamed for *anything*."

 

With that, she turned and walked away.

 

Lex hadn't seen it, hadn't seen a *thing*, but he could imagine her hair flying around her head as she swivelled, the harder than usual set of Bruce's jaw, and the stunned stare of Mr Fordham himself.

 

And the jeans he was looking at were really quite nice.

 

*

 

It was late afternoon when it happened. Of course Lex wasn't entirely sure *how* it happened. One moment he'd been leaning forward in his chair to pick up the bottle of water from his desk, and the next Clark was standing not six feet away.

 

The hand that had been reaching out suddenly moved erratically, knocking over the bottle and making the glass clunk loudly against the table.

 

"Hi." Lex said dumbly as the noise echoed away, trying not to think how *good* it was to see Clark again. His gaze slid past him for a moment to check the door, worried about someone coming by.

 

Interesting. He could have sworn the door had been open earlier.

 

Before Clark appeared.

 

"Unless he's psychic too, Bruce doesn't know I'm here." Clark told him with a hint of teasing in his voice.

 

Lex couldn't help but feel relieved - there was enough in that tone of voice to let him know that Clark believed him, and that he at least wasn't *completely* pissed at him.

 

"Bruce may be many things," Lex agreed with a careful, genuine smile, "but psychic isn't one of them."

 

"I'm still not sure how I feel," Clark said, abruptly changing subject. "About the whole protecting me thing. I...I feel like I'm meant to be doing this alone. It's my responsibility."

 

All too aware that Clark had done nothing to deny anything he could do - quite the opposite, in fact - Lex did his best not to hyperventilate (Clark was *fast*) and chose his next words deliberately. "But you don't do this alone." Of that Lex was absolutely certain. "You have your parents." Mentioning them had probably been a bad idea; Clark immediately started to tense up. Evasive action was needed. "If you tell me never to mention this again and leave you alone, I will. If you tell me to leave town and never try to contact you again, I will." It was pathetic how much he was hoping to God that Clark wouldn't test that option - he wasn't being entirely truthful in his offer to leave. "But I have resources, Clark. Access to things that you don't. Maybe I'll even be able to find a way to treat your...allergies."

 

Clark's head jerked slightly. "With money?"

 

"Yes Clark, with money." Lex nodded. "For someone like me - for people like *us* - sometimes money's a necessary evil."

 

"I'm not like you," Clark muttered, making Lex lift his eyebrows in interest.

 

"Okay." He waited for Clark to explain further, but nothing else on that subject seemed to be forthcoming. "I'm glad that you came to see me. Even if you want nothing more to do with me, I appreciate the fact that you didn't just ignore me."

 

"You can thank Mom." Clark shrugged uneasily. "She came home today in a real mood, but said that I should come see you. That whatever it was I should give you another chance. She usually knows what she's talking about, so..."

 

Mothers always do. That was the instinctive response that wanted to trip from Lex's tongue, but it was only what he'd heard, a cliché he'd never lived. He had no personal experience. "Your mother does seem like," he had to pick just the right term here; he was glad Clark was following her advice but didn't want to seem overbearing about it, "a smart cookie." The corners of Clark's mouth twitched up. Good. "I mean anyone who takes an instant disliking to Bruce has got to be smarter than-"

 

"Your average bear?"

 

Oh, that was terrible. Really quite awful. Lex smiled like an idiot. "Not the choice I would have made, but...it works."

 

The silence that followed was warm, and comfortable.

 

"Lex?"

 

"Clark?"

 

"Tell me more about Ryan."

 

*

 

At Clark's request to talk about Ryan, Lex had suggested they sit on the sofas by the fireplace. Once there he told Clark everything he could remember about Ryan; the things they did together, the discussions they had; how much the boy had looked up to Clark. As he listened Clark didn't start crying, but more than once he rubbed the back of his hand across suspiciously red eyes.

 

When it was done, when Lex had said all that he could and answered Clark's questions, they fell into another silence and studied each other quietly for a while. When Clark finally looked away Lex felt compelled to do the same, staring at the fireplace as he lost himself in the nostalgia that tried to wrap around his mind every time he thought of Ryan.

 

When he finally looked back at Clark, he was amused to see that he was out cold. Only the posture of his head had changed, leaning back crookedly against the top of the sofa. The rest of his body was how it had been earlier; pushed back as far as he could get into the sofa, right hand holding onto the arm, his other hand lying across his thigh.

 

Knowing that he'd do nothing else but watch Clark as he slept (and deciding that would be officially creepy), Lex pushed himself up from the sofa and moved back over to his desk. Clark clearly needed the rest - it wasn't yet 7pm - so Lex decided he'd let him have at least another half an hour before waking him up. In the meantime Lex could actually do something constructive and continue reading the status reports from the plant.

 

Naturally, even unconscious Clark proved to be an excellent distraction. Lex found some solace in the fact that he could say that it wasn't as if Clark wasn’t doing anything - Clark was doing a lot of things. Murmuring, sniffing, sighing, shifting.

 

Despite his best efforts at keeping his eyes focused on the spreadsheets, they kept slipping away to the left side of the room where Clark was growing increasingly sprawled across the sofa.

 

It was completely insane. He'd known this boy, this *teenager* for less that a fortnight, had barely even *seen* him for half of that time, but already Lex knew he cared more about him than anyone he'd ever met. He couldn't even persuade himself that it was just part of the responsibility asked of him by Ryan because he *knew* responsibility and responsibility felt nothing like *this*.

 

Not to mention that responsibility didn't cause an uncomfortable tightness in his new jeans.

 

Clark was barely doing anything - murmuring, sniffing, sighing, shifting - laying across the sofa with his mouth wide open and it was entirely possible that Lex was falling in love with him.

 

Suddenly finding his mouth much, much too dry, Lex reached out for the bottle that was still on its side, and later on he'd suspect that maybe there was something about reaching for this particular bottle on this particular desk that changed the balance of the universe, because although this time Clark didn't impossibly appear from nowhere, as Lex turned his head towards the side of the room he saw Clark...

 

Floating.

 

His hand never made it to the bottle.

 

Clark.

 

Floating.

 

Clark.

 

Was *floating*.

 

Lex stood up even as he forced his mouth shut because if he didn’t he suspected a hysterical laugh would escape. What he was seeing defied all physics known to man but then telepathy wasn't supposed to exist either and *holy shit, Clark was floating*.

 

Floating.

 

The five year old in him wanted to scream *Clark is a superhero*, push him awake and ask if could breathe in outer space. The nineteen year old - who was admittedly feeling not much older than five - walked to where Clark was floating (floating!), and ran his hand through the air above and below the sleeping body.

 

No wires. No illusion. Clark was really there. Doing *that*. Still sound asleep.

 

Trying to calm his excited brain down, Lex walked a few steps away and stared down at the fireplace as he tried to process this discovery on another level. This was a perfectly good example of why Clark needed someone to watch out for him. An ability like this meant that Clark wasn't even capable of doing something as normal as sleeping over at a friend's house, or going camping with anyone other than his parents. No doubt Clark hadn't meant to fall asleep and risk giving this secret away, but it'd happened nonetheless. Having someone else around when his parents couldn't always be there would only be useful.

 

"Lex?"

 

His entire body turned, his gaze looking for Clark in the air again but having to adjust when Lex realised he wasn't there anymore. He was lying on the sofa again, sleepy eyes blinking slowly.

 

Lex cleared his throat. "Yes?"

 

"You've read what goes on here. In Smallville."

 

He frowned. No doubt Chloe had been talking. "Yes. I have."

 

Clark’s gaze fell, seeming to find his own boots fascinating. "It's not all that safe."

 

Lex shrugged. "I'm not going anywhere, Clark."

 

"It's actually pretty dangerous."

 

"I'm not going anywhere, Clark." It bore repeating.

 

"Why?" His head lifted; face serious. "Because you promised Ryan?"

 

"Because I promised Ryan." Lex agreed, before smiling slowly. "But also because I want to try that friend thing we talked about. I uh," now it was his turn for lack of confidence, "I'm not that used to friends sticking around. You may have to bare with me for a-"

 

"I'm not going anywhere, Lex." Clark mimicked, moving his foot and somehow Lex just *knew* he was wiggling his toes.

 

There was no way this boy was ever leaving his life. "Clark?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

"What time do you have to be home?"

 

"Ten."

 

Plenty of time. "Want to watch a movie? I didn't bring many DVDs with me but I've been building up my collection since I got here."

 

"Sounds great!" Clark said, lumbering up from the sofa with no elegance at all and following Lex as he walked to the cabinet the DVDs were kept in. "I hope you have some science fiction though," he added as the cabinet doors creaked open, "I love that stuff."

 

Truly, it was a match made in Smallville.

 

*

 

Clark had been right. The Beanery *was* where everyone hung out - including, apparently, Lex Luthor.

 

The development wasn't a huge surprise. When Lex realised he was enjoying the increasingly frequent visits to the coffee shop it was easy enough to explain: ninety per cent of his time there was spent with Clark.

 

It'd been a little over a week since Clark had turned up at the castle as Martha's behest, and they were both slowly adjusting to the slight shift in their relationship that the knowledge of certain truths had brought. While Clark seemed to have little problem accepting that Lex was 'special' - not all that surprising considering that this was *Clark*, who'd known Ryan and lived in Freak Central USA - the idea of someone knowing how special he was apparently took some getting used to.

 

Though they hadn't really discussed it again since that evening in the castle, Lex firmly believed Clark's parents were the only other people who knew. On top of that Jonathan Kent seemed just paranoid enough to drill the idea into Clark that he should never tell anyone - not that Lex could say he particularly disagreed with the concept. He was going to do his level best to ensure that no one else ever found out about Clark.

 

And they had yet to even touch (was that a bad choice of words?) Clark's other revelation.

 

Of course, as he smiled at the girl sitting across from him, Lex knew Clark wasn't the only reason he enjoyed drinking in The Beanery. More often that not they'd either meet up with or bump into Chloe Sullivan, and Lex was increasingly enjoying her company.

 

Even if she did keep trying to sneakily interview him.

 

So when she stirred sugar into her coffee and asked too casually about the latest developments at the plant or an upcoming investment, Lex gave her a sound bite that would keep her satisfied. Though somewhat cynical Chloe's emotions were very easy to read, and the pleased smile that always emerged as she ignored her earlier attempts at subtlety by scribbling something down on her notepad was proof enough of her happiness.

 

Pete was another story. Pete was still...Pete. Lex at least thought he now knew the reason behind Pete's instant dislike - the records he'd been going over at the plant a few days earlier had revealed that before being bought by LuthorCorp, the business had belonged to Pete's family. And while Mr Ross had apparently signed over eagerly enough, Lex's knowledge of his own father's business acumen meant he couldn't discount the possibility that there'd been some kind of persuasion.

 

Or maybe Pete just didn't like Luthors. He wouldn't be the first.

 

Still, it didn't particularly matter right now. The four of them were seated around a table together, Lex watching with amusement - and no small amount of envy - as the three students moaned and groaned about their history teacher. From there the conversation drifted onto education in general, and Lex was pleased, yet still a little concerned, to hear that Clark was hoping to eventually attend Met U.

 

Smallville was one thing, but Metropolis was an unknown quantity. It'd be harder to protect Clark there but he'd think of something. His friend was never going to have an entirely normal life, not like the others Lex had helped, but Lex would make what he could of Clark's life as normal as possible.

 

"Hey Lex," Chloe asked, drawing him back to the conversation, "how come you didn't go to college?"

 

It wasn't often anyone asked about *him* instead of his business. "Wasn't practical."

 

She frowned. "But you're the son of Lionel Luthor, not to mention being raised by Bruce Wayne. Money aside that's some serious pull - enough to get you into any college in the state. Heck, the country."

 

Lex shrugged. "Some things aren't meant to be, I guess." Truth be told, the fact that he hadn't gone to college had caused consternation amongst some of the Managing Directors. A lot of them were 'old school' and firmly believed college was necessary to any kind of career in the business world.

 

But as Chloe had pointed out, he was the son of Lionel Luthor and had been raised by Bruce Wayne. After their initial misgivings, those were some pretty damn good credentials. Bruce *could* be useful. Sometimes.

 

Swallowing a gulp from his mug of coffee, Lex realised Clark was staring at him. "Clark?" He looked down at his shirt, wondering if he'd spilt coffee and hadn't realised but there was nothing-

 

-impact, falling, hitting, gasping, screaming, pulling, choking choking choking-

 

"Lex! Lex, what's wrong?!"

 

His mug clunked down on the table, knocking over onto its side, contents spilling onto the floor.

 

Choking.

 

"Clark, get me to the car."

 

Hands on his arms, sides, pulling him to his feet and Clark was telling someone to stay put and then Lex was outside where there was air but he still couldn't breathe couldn't breathe-

 

"Bridge," Lex mumbled, "bridge near..." Shit, what was the *name*?

 

"Shuster's field?"

 

Yes! "Someone's going to drown, Clark." He concentrated, shaking off the vision and he could finally see his car. "We have to-"

 

"Lex."

 

Hand still on his arm, turning him towards Clark. "Clark, we have to-"

 

A moment of doubt, just one, and then Clark spoke. "I can get there faster than your car."

 

Lex didn't even think about what that meant; his eyes looked around at what he could see of the street. No one was looking. "Go. Now."

 

Then Lex was alone. He stared, briefly, at the Place Where Clark Had Just Been Standing, knowing that considering this was the first time Clark had willingly shown him what he could do that he should probably be enjoying it more.

 

And then he was unlocking the car, jumping inside, and driving away.

 

By the time Lex arrived at the bridge, Clark was on the mud at the side of the river giving mouth to mouth to the man whose truck had gone into the water (he knew it was a truck, a blue one, though he could currently see no sign of it). Lex had already called the emergency services so he scrambled down the bank, almost slipping over, and watched as Clark brought the man back to life.

 

He coughed up water, spluttering, and the gradual erosion that had been happening in Lex's mind suddenly stopped and reversed itself. Closing his eyes he sat down heavily on the bank, breathing normally as the stranger lying next to him gulped for air.

 

"Easy, easy," Clark said and though Lex knew he was talking to the man who had just clung back onto life, he hung onto those same words just as desperately.

 

*

 

The paramedics had arrived soon after and taken over. They seemed to think that Mr Jenkins - Paul Jenkins, just passing through Smallville - was going to be okay, but took him to the Smallville Medical Centre just to be sure.

 

Clark and Lex were thanked for their help, asked how they got there so quickly, ("Just driving by,") then made their way to the Kent farm. Martha enthused at their heroics and Jonathan grunted something that might have been pride as he eyed Lex warily.

 

The adrenaline of the day having completely worn him out, Lex now lounged on one side of the sofa in Clark's fortress, happy to have his friend next to him. "Clark," he eventually said, looking out at the darkening sky, "how fast are you?"

 

"I'm...not sure. Faster than your car at its maximum speed. Maybe..." The hesitation was clear, but he kept going. "Maybe faster than any car. Ever."

 

Lex felt warm. Really, really warm. And he felt ridiculously *shy* when he asked the next question. "Can you fly?"

 

The sofa creaked as Clark shifted. "No. I float sometimes, but not very often. When it does happen it's only when I sleep, and especially when I've been dreaming about...umm. Stuff."

 

That made the floating in the castle last week a hell of a lot more interesting. Lex wouldn't have thought that possible. "You floated last week," Lex admitted, "when you fell asleep at the castle. I should have told you sooner." It'd just been...nice. Something for him.

 

"You should have." Clark agreed, though he didn't sound particularly angry. "We made a deal, Lex. Anything about my powers or anything you're planning on doing to help...you tell me. Even if you think I won't like it."

 

Lex nodded. "It won't happen again. I promise. And if it does, you can always zip over to the castle and kick my ass."

 

"Oh yeah," Clark snorted, "*that*'s a good use of my powers."

 

Smiling, Lex turned his head towards Clark and studied his friend. He was strong, fast, and fucking gorgeous. He was a comic book fan's wet dream - quite literally, as Lex had discovered these past few nights. "You're pretty amazing, you know."

 

"Sure." Clark said, not sounding very happy. "I'm fast. I'm strong. What's not to like?"

 

"That's not what I..." Lex paused, finding the wrong words. "I mean you can do these things and yes, that is amazing. But despite that you're so...normal. The All-American farmboy. So many people would use your abilities for their own means, but not you. You'd never seriously consider it." He wasn't used to people simply being that good.

 

Clark smiled a little, tipping his head to one side. "I don't know, Lex. I don't think I'm as good as you seem to think."

 

"No?" Seemed unlikely.

 

"There are things I think about doing all the time."

 

"Well we all *think*, Clark. You can't be blamed for that. The point is that you don't actually do those things."

 

Clark sighed. "Lex. Seriously. I'm not just the guy who can run and hit things and be nice to his parents. That's not who I am."

 

"No, that's not who you are," Lex agreed, "but it is *part* of who you are. A part I happen to like." Which was a bit of a misnomer. So far there wasn't any part of Clark he didn't like.

 

Despite the words that had been intended as a compliment, Clark's mood only seemed to darken further. "What if I want you to like other parts?"

 

Lex was suddenly aware that sitting this close on the sofa to Clark was a very bad idea, but his voice - dammit - didn't seem to agree. "What were you dreaming about in the castle, Clark?"

 

The expression on Clark's face shifted, the frown transforming into something...else. "Lex..."

 

A car pulled up outside. Lex didn't know whether to scream in outrage or get down on his knees and thank God.

 

Disconcerted that he'd been so distracted that he hadn't felt anyone nearby, Lex stood up and looked out through the hatch, recognising the outline of the car immediately. "Bruce." What was he doing here?

 

Clark was up next to him now, their shoulders brushing together. "What's he doing here?" Clark asked quietly.

 

"I don't know." Very very warm, especially where their bodies touched. "Maybe he heard what happened."

 

"Maybe he's worried about you."

 

The loud noise of the screen door clattering shut made them both jump, and Lex's gaze moved to where Martha could be seen climbing down the steps into the front yard. Not wanting to be caught staring Lex began to step away when suddenly Clark's hand was on his arm.

 

"Here," Clark said softly, pulling him over a few feet and then pointing to a hole in the barn wall just large enough for someone to see through.

 

"Thanks." Lex said, crouching down and all too aware that Clark was bending down with him. "What about you?" He asked, gesturing towards the eyehole.

 

"You look." Clark insisted. "I'm good."

 

Deciding that he meant it, Lex turned his attention back to what he could see. Martha was out of the yard now, approaching the car where Bruce was waiting. He had to strain to hear, but the words just made it to him.

 

"Mr Wayne," she said by way of greeting, "if you're looking for Lex I think he's still-"

 

"Actually Mrs Kent, I came to see you."

 

Lex's eyebrows lifted as he looked towards Clark. He seemed equally surprised. And damn his face was close.

 

"Me? What for?"

 

"To apologise."

 

Ho. Ly. Crap. Bruce apologising. For *anything*?

 

"Apologise." Her voice was clearly disbelieving.

 

"I realise the last time we spoke I was quite rude..."

 

"Very." She corrected. "You were very rude."

 

Clark snickered. Lex was hard pressed not to follow suit. He'd told Clark about the conversation he'd overhead last week and Clark had been equally amused by it.

 

"Very." Bruce conceded. "I shouldn't have implied that just because you don't live in a city you'd be incapable of understanding business concepts. I shouldn't have underestimated you."

 

"No," she agreed, "you shouldn't have."

 

"I try not to make it my business to underestimate anyone. It usually proves fatal."

 

It was too dark to see any clear expressions now, but Lex knew there was a smirk on her face. "Not this time, Mr Wayne. Unless you're worried I'm going to poison your coffee...?" She moved to gesture towards the house, her invitation clear.

 

"I'll take my chances," Bruce said, starting to walk towards her.

 

"Excellent," she replied, turning to walk ahead of him, "I know for a fact that my husband is especially looking forward to talking with you."

 

Bruce's step didn't falter, he didn't hesitate, but just for a moment there was a flash of *something*. It was so unexpected from Bruce - so unexpected from the man who tried to keep everything guarded - that Lex stumbled and fell back on his ass.

 

Clark moved instantly, his hand on Lex's shoulder. "Hey, you all right?"

 

Bruce liked Martha, which was weird because Bruce didn't really like anyone except for Selina and-

 

Bruce *liked Martha*. Holy shit!

 

Lex grinned. "Great!"

 

*

 

The next morning, Lex made sure he was up and at the table before Bruce. It took some doing - and not much sleep - but he managed it.

 

He could feel Bruce's surprise at seeing him when he walked in, but it was quickly smothered as he sat down in his usual chair and picked up the newspaper that was waiting for him on the table.

 

Lex just looked at him.

 

Smiled.

 

Spoke.

 

"So," life was *so* good, "tell me about Martha."

 

*

 

If Clark didn't stop sucking the end of that pen between his lips, Lex was going to have to do something drastic. Like...yanking the pen away and telling him in a very serious manner why sucking on anything even remotely phallic around Lex was an extremely bad idea.

 

Though it'd only been two days since the evening in the barn, that night seemed to have changed something - flicked a switch somewhere. Lex wasn't so much lusting over Clark from afar as much as it was all he could do not to push him against the wall, throw him down on the sofa, trip him to the floor...

 

All very bad and illegal things. Yet when Clark had complained about his history homework again, instead of doing the sensible thing and staying away until he got a handle on how he was feeling (so to speak), Lex did the very stupid thing and offered to help.

 

Which was why they were currently sitting in his office at the castle, Clark's books splayed out across the table. Lex could only thank God that they at least weren't sitting next to each other - having a table between them was, in theory, a very good idea.

 

Except Clark was sucking on his pen, brow furrowed as he examined the contents of a history book, and Lex was re-evaluating his entire theory about never jumping anyone because with each passing second it was looking more and more like a distinct possibility.

 

He needed a distraction. Anything to stop him from that kind of *thinking*. "Clark?"

 

The pen pulled out with a sticky sound as Clark looked up.

 

Shit.

 

Lex tried not to squirm. Pictured Bruce and Martha together. Was disturbed to realise it wasn't helping. "How is it you don't break things that you touch?" This was good - Clark was probably used to him by now asking these kinds of questions at random moments. And Lex truly did want to know. "Is it just something you've learnt?"

 

"Kind of." Clark said. "When I was little I broke stuff all the time. Mom and dad got really good at fixing things." He paused, looking vaguely guilty. "At first I really had to concentrate when I was touching anything, but now I don't think about it at all. I think it's become instinct or something."

 

"Instinct?"

 

He nodded. "It's like my body knows when I'm touching something...fragile."

 

How, how did this always happen? Lex would be feeling incredibly inappropriate thoughts about Clark, he'd steer the conversation onto a safe subject, and then suddenly he'd be back to the inappropriateness again. As Clark would have said, his life sucked.

 

And it was the *only* thing getting sucked.

 

Frustrated at his incredibly bad pun (and all these thoughts of sucking weren't helping much either), Lex stood up and briskly walked over to the bar he'd set up at the far side of his desk. "Get you a drink?" He asked too brightly, not turning around hoping/worried that Clark would be there next to him.

 

"Sure, I'll have a water thanks."

 

Nodding entirely to himself, Lex plucked two bottles off of the bar and brought them back to the table. He managed to smile at Clark as he put them down.

 

"Thanks," Clark said.

 

"Anytime," Lex replied, and that had come out sounding so much more like an invitation than anything else. What was wrong with his vocal chords lately?

 

Picking up a bottle of water, Clark fiddled with it but didn't unscrew the lid. "I, uh, got the third degree from Chloe the other day. About what happened in The Beanery."

 

Lex winced mentally, though still somewhat glad to have something to focus on other than the bottle Clark was playing with. "What did you say?"

 

"That you had a migraine," he sighed, "I know it's lame. We need to think up something better. And maybe that way I can kind of help you, too."

 

"How so?" Lex frowned.

 

Lifting his head, Clark looked at him hopefully. "You help me with my powers, I help you with yours. You don't seem to get much warning when you get a vision, but knowing how you react when having one now...I could get you away from people. Fast. It's all very well saying you're going to protect me, but if what happened in The Beanery keeps happening, people are going to talk about *you*. This is a small town, after all."

 

There was the protective urge. Lex bit the inside of his cheek. "It's nice of you to offer Clark, but you don't have to take on that responsibility-"

 

"No, it's okay." Clark interrupted. "I think I'd actually feel more comfortable with this whole thing that way anyway. I mean I know I don't have the resources you do, but it'd feel a little more like an equal partnership."

 

"Partners." He was in hell.

 

Clark nodded. "And I think our first act, as partners..." Lex was not day dreaming, Lex was not daydreaming, "should be to tell my parents why you're really here."

 

Ah. That. He'd known it'd happen eventually, and he had honestly been intending to bring the subject up soon. It was just...Jonathan scared him. Though he wasn't about to admit it. "Good idea. It's probably long past time since they knew."

 

"Which means we can combine it with the other thing." Clark blurted out.

 

"Other thing?" Lex asked warily. There was more?

 

"Yeah." His left hand still holding onto the bottle, Clark's free hand came up to scratch at the side of his neck. "Mom...kind of invited you to dinner. Officially."

 

Officially? He'd had dinner with the Kent's several times now, and though none of them had been planned as of yet, he had expected to be invited at some point rather than just stumbling into the house with Clark and being told to stay. But 'officially'? What on Earth did that mean? "What does that mean?"

 

More scratching. "Well, uh, my parents know I'm gay. They were surprised at first, but they're pretty cool with it now. You're the new guy in town...we've been spending so much time together lately, that my parents - well, mom really - thinks, uh..." He cleared his throat. "I think Mom thinks we're dating."

 

Now was not a good time to pass out. "Dating."

 

"And she wants to get to know you better."

 

Dating. Maybe Jonathan thought the same thing. Maybe Jonathan - hell, maybe this explained Pete too - thought he *was* dating or was interested in dating Clark. Lex licked his lips. Opened his mouth. Closed it again. "Clark, I'm sure your mother knows that's illegal in Kansas. And a lot of other places, too."

 

Clark rolled his eyes. "She's my *mom*, Lex. She only cares about what makes me happy. Besides, it's not like we've even done anything. Can't be illegal if we haven't done anything, right?"

 

They hadn't done anything. Right. Lex tried to take control of the conversation. "Okay. So we have dinner. We tell them about why I'm here, and when your father's stopped garrotting me we clear up the whole dating misconception."

 

"Right." Said Clark.

 

"Good." Replied Lex.

 

"Great."

 

"Excellent."

 

"I'm glad."

 

"Me too." Suddenly aware of how *stuffy* the room seemed (the fire wasn't on? He could have sworn the fire was on), Lex grabbed his bottle of water, unscrewed the lid, and took a healthy gulp. Slamming the open bottle back on the table, he swore when some of the water inside came shooting out the top. "Shit." He'd always been too emotional. He stood up, bending forward to try and salvage Clark's work. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

 

"It's okay."

 

Clark had moved too, leaning over the desk, shuffling papers and when Lex lifted his head Clark's mouth was just a fraction away.

 

Either his brain short-circuited or there'd been another shift in the universe because he knew, he absolutely knew how Clark felt and for the first time in his life it had nothing to do with being psychic, or different. He simply *knew*, and that feeling, so normal, so *instinctive*, was more incredible than reading minds or bending steel and Lex's conscience gladly waved a white flag as he leaned in and pressed his lips against Clark's.

 

Just for a moment. Just one.

 

Then he was pulling back, not blushing because he was too surprised at himself for even doing it. "I-" He didn't know what to say. They were both still leaning over the table, not the most comfortable position to be in, and Clark was *seeing* him. Maybe the first person who ever had. "I...don't do this."

 

"With guys?" Clark asked carefully.

 

Lex shook his head, still so close - so close - to Clark's mouth. "With anyone." He murmured, staring down at the table. "Ever."

 

He stayed there, not quite able to process that he'd admitted that, and then he saw hands splayed on the table as Clark moved further forward still, the side of his head brushing against Lex's.

 

"Don't worry," Clark whispered, his voice nervous but teasing, making Lex shiver at that *and* the unusual sensation of hair rubbing against his head, "I'll be gentle."

 

Fuck. Clark wasn't allowed to tease him like that; Clark shouldn't be allowed to tease him like that, and Lex tried to stand up straight, tried to pull away, but suddenly there were arms reaching across the table and holding onto his waist.

 

He didn't fight against them knowing it would be futile, his own hands instead moved slowly to grasp on to the arms holding him. "Clark," *so warm*, "I just want you to have a normal life."

 

"Why?" Fingers flexing at his waist, voice floating across his scalp. "Because it's the one thing you never had?"

 

And it was there, awkwardly leaning over a table and onto each other for support, that Lex Luthor knew he was in love with Clark Kent.

 

Giving up, Lex leant his forehead against Clark's shoulder and sighed heavily. "You are so much older than me."

 

Clark chuckled, the sound and movement vibrating pleasantly through Lex's body. His back was starting to ache but he didn't want to move. He couldn't remember anyone ever holding him like this.

 

"Maybe I am." Clark said eventually, and there was something in the tone of voice that made Lex pull away from the shoulder and study Clark's face. "I don't actually know how old I am." Clark continued, his gaze looking everywhere but at Lex.

 

"Because you were adopted?" He wasn't sure his question entirely made sense, but he was having an extremely odd evening. When Clark shook his head, it grew odder still. "Clark?"

 

"I'm not really," his eyes were looking everywhere but at him again, "what I guess you'd call," sofa, fireplace, desk, wall, ceiling, Lex...finally staying on Lex, "human."

 

Lex's hands tightened. His eyes widened. His brain analysed. And his mouth opened to produce a single, stunned word:

 

"Oh."

 

*

 

Lex stared at the hand held out towards him. It certainly *looked* human - but he knew looks could be deceiving. Knowing further investigation was in order, he took hold of the hand with both of his own. Touching it carefully, bending each finger individually, stroking a hand across the palm, Lex shook his head in wonder. It felt human too.

 

The hand - and the owner of it - showed no sign of objecting as Lex's curiousity got the better of him and he sucked a finger into his mouth.

 

Yup. Tasted *distinctly* human.

 

"Jesus!"

 

Releasing the hand immediately, Lex stared at Clark. They'd moved to the same sofa some time ago. "Are you all right?"

 

"All right?" Clark whined in frustration, flexing his hand. "You're gonna *kill* me."

 

Blushing dimly at how carried away he'd become, Lex smiled awkwardly. "Sorry. I guess I'm trying to figure out how you're different. How you work."

 

The first hour or so after that particular Clarkian revelation had been filled mostly with half abandoned sentences that'd generally ended with "-an *alien*, Clark?"

 

The second hour had been spent grilling Clark for information - anything and everything he knew about his heritage. There wasn't all that much that Clark actually knew, but Lex had been thrilled to discover that Clark had a spaceship.

 

A spaceship.

 

*Clark* had a *spaceship*.

 

Okay, so according to Clark it didn't seem to work anymore, and it was really more like a pod than an actual ship, but as far as Lex was concerned it had flown through space (space!) unaided, and that alone met more than enough criteria for it to be called a ship. Naturally, it'd been all Lex could do not to run out of the castle and head straight to the Kent storm cellar (although part of him had been horrified. The *storm cellar*? Were they just *waiting* for someone to stumble across Clark's secret?).

 

But at this particular moment Clark simply tipped his head to one side and smiled. "I should probably find that creepy."

 

"But?" Lex could definitely sense one coming, and he wasn't disappointed.

 

"With you it just seems," his eyes raked over every. single. inch. of Lex's body, "hot." Blushing fiercely Clark quickly looked away.

 

There it was again. Confidence and innocence wrapped up in one incredibly delectable wrapper. It made no sense that it worked, but this was Clark and maybe for him anything was possible. "Clark," he began quietly, "have you ever been with anyone?"

 

The blush darkened. "I, uh...no." Then where did that self-confidence come from? Most likely it had something to do with his upbringing. Lex could see the Kents raising a boy who was incredibly sure of himself without being arrogant. Which summed Clark up quite nicely most of the time.

 

"Well that puts us pretty much on even footing then." Though still somewhat terrifying it was also reassuring. He may have been in a small state of shock that he was even discussing this, but after everything else he'd learnt today talking about this really wasn't much at all.

 

"How is it..." Clark peeked at him again. "I mean, why is it that you've never...had sex? Has it just never happened, or is it because of your gifts?"

 

"A little of both?" Lex suggested. "There's never really been a good time, or much of an opportunity. Doing what I did tended to keep me away from the kind of people who might want to sleep with me for my connections. And I...I never really got close enough to anyone to want to." But then that had been deliberate.

 

"So..." Clark hesitated, and Lex could almost *see* him gathering the courage, "am I different?"

 

Did bears shit in the woods? Was the pope Catholic? Had Lex's pants been much too tight for the last two hours? "God, Clark, do you even have to ask?"

 

"Yes! Yes I do. I've never done this before."

 

"Well neither have I." Lex argued, and this was quite possibly the most bizarre conversation he'd ever had.

 

Clark's lips quirked upwards. "I think we're gonna be really bad at this."

 

Probably. But at least they were both acknowledging there *was* a 'this'. Even if nothing really happened. "I gave my word I'd protect you Clark. I'm pretty sure that didn't cover breaking the law."

 

"You wouldn't break the law to protect me?" Clark shot back knowingly. Maybe he was the psychic one.

 

"Well I doubt I'd have to break *that* law."

 

Clark smiled softly. "*You* kissed *me* Lex. And now you're telling me we should stay away from each other?"

 

Okay. Yes. He could see how someone might be confused. Or frustrated. "I'm just trying to do the right thing."

 

"Lex," Clark sighed fondly, as if he had to put up with this every day, "for once in your life," that hand reached out, hooking its fingers with Lex's, "do something *wrong*."

 

That was it. The last thread of Lex's resistance snapped so hard he was surprised it wasn't audible.

 

His fingers tightened around Clark's to pull them closer together, but before he could do anything else at all he was suddenly pushed back onto the sofa and covered by a six foot-something alien.

 

Clark had pounced him like the horny teenager he was.

 

Not that Lex was complaining.

 

It was messy, unusual and a little awkward - definitely new territory for him - but it was *nice*. They kissed slowly, languidly, learning each other's mouth's; finding how they fit together.

 

Lex *liked* this. It was *good*. He'd always assumed that any relationship he entered into would be an angst-ridden emotional mind fuck because of his differences, but with Clark here it was different. It was *fun*.

 

Breaking away for air, Lex chuckled breathlessly in delight, all too happy to arch his neck when Clark started kissing the skin there.

 

His hands fumbled over Clark, learning the body, looking for purchase. Clark seemed to like it when his hands found their way to his ass so he kept them there. He swiftly discovered the added advantage of this was that it brushed their groins closer together. When Clark started mindlessly rubbing against him, Lex's eyes rolled back in his head and he dragged one hand off to yank Clark's head up for a kiss.

 

It wasn't nice anymore because instead it was *fantastic* and his tongue met easily with Clark's and he was really really happy that he was a fast learner and yet...and yet...

 

He pulled away, gasping. Clark noticed immediately, regretfully lifting his kiss swollen lips away from Lex. Shit, he looked *hot*.

 

"Too fast?" Clark asked breathily.

 

Had he had enough breath left in his lungs, Lex would have laughed. "Fuck no." He muttered, taking in Clark's pleased smile...and then surprise as he shifted them until he was the one lying on top of Clark. He wanted this all right; he wanted *more*.

 

Kissing resumed as if it'd never stopped, the same intensity, the same drive, and he needed to be closer. Figuring leg movement would help, his left hand reached around and pulled Clark's thigh higher even as Lex's left leg moved off the couch to press most of his weight against the floor.

 

It was difficult, the space confined, balancing on the edge of the sofa, but when he rocked against Clark like that they both groaned loudly. He rocked again, shuddering, rubbing them against each other despite his pants and Clark's jeans and he was almost dizzy with arousal.

 

He'd jacked off alone plenty of times but it was nothing compared to this; the give and take, the rock of another body beneath his, and when Clark said "Fuck!" he almost came right there.

 

"Lex," Clark panted, one hand under his shirt, "if you don't stop I'm gonna...oh God..."

 

Something, somewhere, sparked in Lex's brain.

 

He stopped moving. His body all but howled, and he was almost certain that his dick was never talking to him again.

 

Had he been in the mood to appreciate it, Clark's expression would have been priceless. "Lex?"

 

Pulling himself up but not yet moving off of Clark, Lex's hand moved to rest on the back on the sofa. "You were right." He said, trying to find his breath. "This is too fast."

 

Clark's face, heavy with desire, morphed into a different mood. "Please be joking."

 

"Clark..."

 

"*Please* tell me you're joking."

 

"I'm not."

 

Groaning quite differently from just a few moments ago, Clark thudded his head back on the arm of the sofa. "*Why*?"

 

"Quite honestly? I don't want to have sex until we've told your parents the truth. I mean it's wrong enough as it is...but if we didn't wait it'd feel even worse." At some point in the future, his groin was going to be having some serious talks with his conscience.

 

"I hate you." Clark growled.

 

"No you don't." Lex replied affectionately. "Besides," he moved a hand until it pressed gently against Clark's chest, "nice boys don't come on the second date."

 

The roll of Clark's eyes was quickly followed by a frown, and Lex could guess what he was thinking. *Second* date?

 

"What?" Lex asked. "You think I didn't figure out the sunflower thing?"

 

Grinning shyly, Clark flushed a deep red. "Hey, I never claimed to be subtle."

 

Lex shook his head in disbelief. "How can you even blush right now?"

 

The blush actually deepened. "Maybe it's one of my powers."

 

That was right. Clark was an *alien*. Holy crap. "Come on," he said, tapping Clark's chest because he was also a teenage boy, "you have history homework to finish. And I have to devise a way now to not get turned on anytime I even *think* of history."

 

His life was so hard.

 

So to speak.

 

*

 

He probably shouldn't have been happy. Tonight he and Clark were going to tell the Kents the truth, and Lex knew he'd be damned lucky if the worst he got was Clark's parents insisting he have nothing more to do with them or Clark ever again. Definitely not the kind of thing that inspired happy thoughts.

 

But...he couldn't help himself. For once in his life he literally couldn't stop smiling, and truth be told he really didn't want to.

 

Over the last few days he'd found himself thinking of Clark and the things they'd done together at the oddest times. Actually, most of the time. He'd already been thinking about Clark frequently, but that night in the castle had only made things worse.

 

Or better, depending on your perspective. And Lex's perspective was definitely better.

 

Lex put it down to the fact that Clark was his first, well, *anything* really, so Lex was bound to be fascinated with him. It was almost like he had a new interest or obsession...except 'obsession' sounded decidedly stalkerish and he vowed never to use that word again.

 

Of course thinking over his newest memories of Clark had provoked quite the reaction during yesterday's meeting at the plant. The folder Lex had been reading through and occasionally commenting on had proven extremely convenient, but the moment he'd been left alone he'd unzipped his pants and barely touched his dick before coming so hard it was nearly painful.

 

His body was definitely still pissed at him.

 

Still, Lex didn't particular care. He felt *good* and nothing was going to change that right now. Not even Bruce, who was approaching from the other end of the corridor Lex was walking along.

 

Lex promptly decided today would be a good day to freak Bruce out.

 

"Hello, Bruce. How are you today? Lovely day, isn't it?"

 

Bruce had stopped walking the moment Lex had started talking, and now he regarded him as if he'd stripped naked and was running around the castle screaming.

 

Maybe he'd try that one tomorrow.

 

"It's sunny." Bruce ground out, as if that explained everything.

 

"Yes, I suppose it is." Lex agreed, though he'd barely looked out a window yet.

 

"I don't really like the sun," Bruce said carefully to re-iterate his point.

 

"True." Lex nodded. "You are more of a night creature, aren't you?"

 

Not responding immediately, Bruce tilted that expertly coiffured head. "You seem obscenely happy today, Lex. Seen Clark lately by any chance?"

 

Even that wasn't going to detract from his mood today. Lex was absolutely certain Bruce knew exactly how much time he'd been spending with Clark (a fact he tried to think about as little as possible), so it might as well have been a rhetorical question.

 

Not that Lex was going to let it go unanswered.

 

"Yes, I have. Seen Martha lately by any chance?"

 

Bruce glowered. Lex actually *felt* the glower which only made it all the better.

 

"You know very well I haven't spoken to Mrs Kent for several days."

 

*Perfect*. "That wasn't what I asked." Lex let his words linger, watching as Bruce realised what he was implying and stayed just long enough to see the outrage on Bruce's face before turning and walking away. "See you, Bruce. Have a good day!"

 

*

 

Lex's mood remained bouyant as the day progressed. The situation at the plant continued to improve. Though he yet had no way of knowing if it was going to keep improving over the long term, numbers were slowly going up. It wasn't a huge improvement but it was definitely *something*.

 

Almost before he knew it it was closing in on five pm and Lex had an appointment to keep. Saying goodbye to Henry, Lex headed off towards The Beanery.

 

He'd expected - and felt only slight disappointed when proven right - that Clark wouldn't be alone, and when he spied Clark at the far side of the coffee shop with Chloe and Pete, Lex smiled deeply in greeting. "Hey guys."

 

He was welcomed by all as he sat down - even Pete seemed to be putting in more effort than usual. Lex hoped it had more to do with the fact that Pete was warming up to him rather than because Clark had 'talked' with him, but Lex knew it was probably the latter.

 

Lex couldn't help but notice, however, that Clark seemed abnormally quiet. Considering they hadn't managed to see each other for a couple of days and all Lex wanted to do right now was something very illegal, he frowned. Maybe Clark was starting to get nervous about the talk with his parents tonight.

 

Ordering a coffee from the waitress - Kathy, her name badge read and Lex didn't recall seeing her before - Lex's attention was then grabbed by Chloe who almost grabbed him. Leaning across the table towards him, she whispered overly loud.

 

"Hey, Lex. Maybe you have some idea what's going on."

 

"Something's going on?"

 

"It's Clark," she nodded, gesturing towards him with her thumb, "he's been in a *foul* mood lately but swears there's nothing wrong. You have any ideas?"

 

Well, that explained Clark's silence. Lex studied him openly now that he'd been given the chance, and though Clark looked as gorgeous as ever Lex couldn't see anything other than his expression that was out of the ordinary. If anything important had happened Lex surely would have heard about it. In fact the only recent event involving Clark that he could think of was-

 

Oh.

 

Gazing back at Chloe with deliberate thoughtfulness, Lex pretended to think it over. "I'm sure if it was something important Clark would tell you."

 

Underneath the table he put his hand on Clark's thigh.

 

"I have to go to the restroom!" Clark yelled, surprising everyone at the table as he suddenly stood up, his chair scraping back loudly. Lex barely had the presence of mind to move his hand away.

 

"Okay, man," Pete broke the silence with eventually, speaking slowly, "you go to the restroom. It's all good." He sounded like he was talking a potential jumper down.

 

"Anyone else need to go?" Clark looked at his friends.

 

"No, I'm good, man."

 

Chloe's deep frown marred her forehead. "I'm fine, Clark, really."

 

Finally Clark looked down at him. "Lex?"

 

He shouldn't smile right now. Right. "No, you go ahead, Clark. I'm just fine."

 

"You sure?"

 

Lex thought maybe he could hear teeth scraping together. "Quite sure." His coffee had arrived, so Lex happily took a healthy sip.

 

When Clark had finally gone, Chloe leant towards him again. "Lex...I think Clark wanted you to go with him."

 

Feigning ignorance, Lex frowned. "He did?"

 

She nodded. "I think you should go check it out - maybe he wants to talk to someone about whatever's bothering him. Maybe it's, you know," she leant away from Pete as if to protect his delicate ears, "guy stuff."

 

"Ohhh." Lex replied. "*Guy* stuff."

 

"Right." She winked. "And even if we are just being paranoid it's better to be sure, right?"

 

This was too good to be true. In fact it was a little *too* good to be true and Lex's paranoia kicked in. Regarding her suspiciously, he eventually decided she was actually being sincere when all he could really sense from her was concern for her friend. "All right, then." He said, standing up. "If you two think it's the right thing to do..." He looked from one to the other, but didn't start moving until Pete spoke.

 

Grudgingly.

 

"Go on, man. He obviously wants to talk to you."

 

As he walked away from the table, Lex decided Pete wasn't so bad after all.

 

Several steps later he found himself at the door to the restroom, and grabbing the handle he pushed open the door. It was small but functional inside, and he studied the area as the door clicked shut behind him. Two cubicles, one-

 

-obviously very aroused Clark Kent pushing him back against the door.

 

The "Oof" he made was captured between Clark's lips but even as Lex started to recover his equilibrium and kiss back, Clark was pulling away.

 

Not looking pleased.

 

"Teenager, Lex!"

 

Lex blinked. "Teenager?"

 

"*Horny* teenager," Clark emphasised, "you *cannot* keep pulling that crap with me."

 

Puckering his lips together in an attempt not to smile, Lex's hand slid down to cup Clark's ass and push their bodies closer together. Even if he had to bite back his own gasp, it was definitely worth it. "This kind of crap?"

 

"JE...sus." Clark slumped further against Lex, his head thumping against the door. "You keep that up and you can explain to the nice people outside why I'm walking out of here with come on my jeans."

 

He *may* have had a point. Damn him. "You know technically I'm a teenager too."

 

"Oh please," Clark snorted, and his breath was doing wonderful things to Lex's neck, "you're as much a teenager as my dad is."

 

Lex wrinkled his nose. "Thanks for the mental image there, Clark."

 

Chuckling, Clark pulled his head back from the door to look at him. "You are nothing but a tease, you know that?"

 

Lex was beginning to realise that Clark was completely right. It was just...he didn't remember having ever had that much control over anyone else. It was...powerful. An aphrodisiac. Still, it wouldn't do to piss Clark off *too* much, and he planted as gentle a kiss as possible on Clark's lips. God, he *loved* this. "And you're nothing but a wanton hussy."

 

Clark tried to look offended. It didn't really work. "Hussy? Me?"

 

"Uh huh." Another small kiss.

 

"Really? Remind me again who kissed who first?"

 

Lex smirked. "Why, I believe it was you, the same night you gave me the sunflower."

 

"If that's your idea of a kiss then we really need to-mpfh!"

 

Gentle kisses were definitely overrated.

 

*

 

Once assured that his mouth didn't look too ravaged, Lex returned to the table alone as Clark tried to compose himself in the restroom. Sitting down at the table, Lex calmly picked up his coffee and smiled across at Chloe.

 

"You were right." He told her. "Guy stuff."

 

*

 

They stayed in the Beanery for about another half an hour after Clark returned from the bathroom; if they lingered for any length of time after that they'd probably end up being late for dinner, and considering the subject matter that was going to be discussed (Lex knowing Clark was alien, Lex being 'different' himself, how intent he was on helping Clark...) arriving on time seemed extremely wise.

 

However, just as they were on their way out of the coffee shop someone else was on their way in.

 

"Mrs Ross!" Clark exclaimed in delight.

 

Ah. Pete's mother. Judge Ross if he remembered rightly, though he hadn't yet had the pleasure.

 

"Clark," she sighed fondly, "how many times have I told you to call me Amanda?"

 

Blushing, he glanced down. "Sorry."

 

Clark blushed at the strangest times. Forgetting to use someone's first name apparently called for it, but humping against Lex in the bathroom not forty-five minutes ago didn't. Was that because he was an alien, or just Clark?

 

"Oh!" Clark suddenly said, remembering himself and lifting his head. "This is my friend, Lex-"

 

"Luthor, yes, I know." She interrupted. "I heard you were in town."

 

Quelle surprise. "Nice to meet you, Judge Ross."

 

She regarded him seriously before shaking the hand he'd extended. "How are you finding life in Smallville, Mr Luthor?"

 

He had a feeling she deliberately hadn't used his first name, but she also wasn't being particularly hostile. Merely...cautious. He was grateful that, unlike her son, she seemed to be at least giving him a chance. "Anything but small." Realising at the last moment how wrong that sounded and practically *hearing* Clark's blush, he quickly continued. "Small town life isn't all that different from the city, really." More often than not he'd actually tried to avoid the city, but there was no reason to mention that to her.

 

"True enough." She agreed, before peering over his shoulder. "Well, if you two will excuse me I need to have a word with my son about some chores that he hasn't done."

 

And she was going to do that in public?

 

But then he really shouldn't be expecting other people's parents to act like Bruce. No one acted like Bruce.

 

Bidding goodbye and exiting the shop with Clark, Lex glanced through the window as they walked by the building and saw her approaching Chloe and Pete's table. Judging by the look on Pete's face he was going to be regretting skipping those chores for quite some time.

 

"Sorry about that," Clark said as they approached the car, "I don't know what happened. She's usually more friendly."

 

Lex could understand Clark's point - he *had* felt a little like a specimen in a petrie dish.

 

But it didn't really matter. The judge had judged him and - as yet - he hadn't been found wanting.

 

"I liked her."

 

*

 

He should have known it was going to happen. During the short drive from town to the Kent farm, Lex's mood had drastically nosedived and so there they were, still inside the car, sitting in the Kents driveway.

 

It was probably deliberate that as yet no one had come outside, though Lex couldn't fathom a probably reason. Didn't really want to.

 

He had to try and prepare himself here, in case everything went south and all his hoping and planning had been a gigantic waste of time. In some ways pessimism was an easier state of mind for him to deal with, and it'd certainly make things a lot less disappointing if he actively expected the worst. True, it wasn't as if he was asking for Clark's hand in marriage or anything, but already, so soon having met him, the very idea that the Kents could stop him from ever seeing Clark again...

 

Lex didn't remember moving but he must have because suddenly his lips were on Clark's and his hands were in his hair and when Clark pushed him away Lex nearly whined.

 

Except Lex didn't whine. Ever.

 

Clark's flushed face glared at him. "That wasn't a goodbye, okay?"

 

"Clark..." That boy was so optimistic.

 

"No, Lex, listen. Just tell them how you told me. How you became what you are, the things you do. How you help people. We're not so different you know. I think they'll see that."

 

Lex really *really* hoped he was right. "It's just..." He had no words for this. He wasn't accustomed to this kind of *fear*. "It's ridiculous. It's barely been a month, but..."

 

"I know." Clark said softly, a smile tugging at his lips. "I think I love you, too."

 

There was no moment of great revelation, no sudden understanding, because as insane as the idea of it was Lex had somehow known what'd been happening all along. Though he definitely envied Clark his bravery. He risked his heart so generously.

 

A faint tremor of uncertainty appeared on Clark's face, and Lex realised Clark was taking the silence as something else. "No." Lex whispered, suddenly horrified, reaching out to touch that face. "Don't doubt anything. It's just...unusual for me, okay?" Swallowing heavily, he borrowed some of Clark's courage and said it. "No one's ever told me they loved me before."

 

Clark's expression flickered with sadness, before he turned his head and pressed a kiss into Lex's palm. "That sucks, Lex."

 

It was completely the wrong thing to say at completely the right time.

 

Lex laughed.

 

*

 

If the squint over Mr Kent's left eye got any worse, Lex suspected he'd be requiring surgery soon.

 

He decided against pointing that out.

 

There'd been a curious lack of shouting so far. True, he hadn't expected there to be much as he told them the earlier parts of his story, but when he reached the parts about Ryan telling him about Clark, about how Clark was different? He'd definitely expected raised voices.

 

Instead there was a constant squint from Clark's father, and wide-eyed surprise from from his mother.

 

Of course, then he got to 'the truth', and actually found himself faltering. Even in front of Clark's parents Clark's secret was still Clark's secret, and Lex wasn't used to discussing it with anyone else.

 

Thankfully, Clark took over. Not so thankfully, he delivered the news with all of his usual finesse.

 

"I told Lex everything. About me. Where I come from, what I can do. I don't regret it."

 

Lex bit back a groan and told himself that it was ridiculous to find Clark defiantly standing up his parents so adorable. Especially when Mr Kent's squint had turned into a full blown twitch. Watching the anger build in his face was a little like watching the pressure build in a volcano, and the explosion when it came was no less powerful.

 

Anger and frustration so intense it was almost painful streamed from Clark's father, and Lex was remarkably surprised to realise that it wasn't directly aimed at him.

 

"Clark! You told *someone* your *secret*!?"

 

And that seemed to be the crux of the matter. It wasn't that he'd told *Lex*; it was that he'd told anyone at all.

 

Feeling somewhat reassured, Lex nonetheless decided his wisest course of action would be to stay silent as father and son battled it out over a meal that no one had touched (aside from Clark, who had finished less than five minutes after sitting down. Lex had witnessed Clark's eating habits several times now and was convinced that nothing short of planetary implosion would stop that boy from getting a full meal).

 

Mrs Kent's emotions were harder to read without intruding too far. She seemed to being staying mostly silent too, but Lex certainly knew it wasn't because she wouldn't be able to handle either Clark or his father. She simply knew when to choose her battles.

 

Finally, some ten minutes - and two nearly burst eardrums - later, Mr Kent yelled something about needing to work in the barn and stormed out of the house.

 

As the sound of the screen door slamming resonated through the kitchen, Clark turned to Lex and smiled as if nothing had happened.

 

"Lex, you want some pie?"

 

Sneaking a look at Clark's mother, Lex shook his head. "Uh, no thanks, Clark."

 

"If you're sure." Clark said, and then began picking up plates. "I'll clear up. Why don't you and mom go out on the porch? It's a nice night to be outside."

 

Clark Kent. All the subtlety of a cement brick being hurled through a window.

 

Sighing, Lex nonetheless let himself be hussled outside where he leaned against the porch railing and tried not to listen to the hurried murmured voices inside. There was definitely going to be a lengthy mother/son chat in Clark's near future.

 

Staring across at the barn, Lex was relieved to be further away from the hostility and anger that'd been coming from Mr Kent. Though it was strong enough that he could still feel it now, in the kitchen it'd been almost stifling.

 

The screen door clattered shut behind him, and Lex turned to see Mrs Kent walking the few steps towards him. He wasn't sure if he should smile or not.

 

"Quite a night." She said, coming to rest beside him and mimicking his pose.

 

"You could say that." He nodded, trying to tell himself that the loud noises coming from the barn weren't gunshots.

 

"He should have told us he was going to tell you."

 

Lex couldn't argue with that. She was completely right. "Yes, he should have."

 

"We've always discussed every aspect of what makes him different. Always made the decisions together."

 

"So you would have talked him out of telling me?"

 

Her lips quirked slightly. "Difficult to say. Clark's stubborn streak is really quite something."

 

That he didn't doubt. "Gets it from his father?"

 

"Oh," she shook her head, "maybe in part. But don't doubt my own stubborness, Lex. I'm sure you know about my past, where *I* come from. Living on a farm in Smallville isn't quite what my father had in mind."

 

He nodded, amused at the image of anyone trying to tell her what to do. "But you fell in love."

 

She shrugged. "And so did my son."

 

Lex's smile faded. Shit, he...he wasn't used to people *talking* like this. "Whatever you think, whatever kind of relationship you think Clark and I have, we're not...*that* close."

 

She smiled again, knowingly. "Like I said: Clark's stubborn streak is really quite something."

 

Breathing deeply, Lex decided he couldn't have heard that right. No way had she just said that Clark was planning on seducing him.

 

"But Lex," she continued, her hand reaching out to wrap around his wrist and suddenly she was pulling him until they were both standing up and she was holding his gaze, "if you *hurt* him..."

 

Normally she was pretty good at masking what she was feeling but here, now, she let him feel all of it - the fear, the terror, the almost overwhelming love she had for Clark. She would do anything, absolutely anything to protect him.

 

And just for a second, Lex knew what a mother's love felt like.

 

"I won't," he swore, strangely breathless, "I only came because Ryan was right. You need someone here to do the things that you can't. Cover things up. Make problems go away. I can do that."

 

"It can't touch Clark." She warned.

 

"It won't." Lex promised. "I won't ever let it. I'd never let anything hurt him. I'd *die* before I'd let anything hurt him."

 

Something in that satisfied her and when she released his wrist, Lex stumbled back and looked down at his skin. He wouldn't be surprised if there were bruises there tomorrow.

 

He slowly lifted his head up. "Mrs Kent..."

 

She shook her head, smelling of sugar and cinnamon. "Lex, you're in love with my son. I think you can call me Martha now."

 

Lex stared at her, almost fearful, wondering if the dual personality thing Clark seemed to have sometimes came from her. All he knew was that it'd been some time since he'd been that fucking terrified by anyone.

 

And he hadn't even talked to Mr Kent yet.

 

*

 

Clark's father wasn't hard to find as Lex walked into the barn. Of course he probably wasn't trying to hide, but the important thing was that Lex could see him at all times. The axe Mr Kent was wielding didn't exactly leave him brimming with confidence.

 

The good news was that - for now at least - the recipient of the sharp end of said axe wasn't Lex's head, and he considered himself grateful that his abilities were limited to people. He could imagine all too well the terrified scream coming from the latest piece of wood to meet an axe-shaped demise under Mr Kent's care.

 

Lex had stopped a few feet away not wanting to get within either axe or flying wood range, but realised he hadn't gone unnoticed when the constant movement paused.

 

"I don't think now is a good time for you to be here, Lex."

 

Considering the anger rolling through the barn, that was some considerable restraint being displayed.

 

"I'd probably agree," Lex replied carefully, deciding that honesty was the best way to go, "but Mar...Mrs Kent told me to come out here." Honesty was one thing. Using his wife's first name right now would probably be suicide.

 

Movement continued. A swinging axe, cracking wood, a new piece on the block, a swinging axe, cracking wood...

 

And still it continued until Lex realised that Mr Kent was probably doing everything in his power to ignore him. As much as the idea of never having this conversation appealed, Lex knew it had to be done. For Clark.

 

"I'd never do anything to hurt him. I'd never tell anyone about him."

 

CRACK!

 

He was starting to re-think this truth thing. Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut.

 

Mr Kent spun around, the emotions from him so strong that for a moment Lex genuinely believed he was going to end up with an axe buried in his chest.

 

"But he told *you*!"

 

Had Lex had any doubt about his own feelings for Clark, the fact that he stood his ground - didn't even flinch - would have dispelled them.

 

Or it could have been the fact that he was frozen in terror.

 

As he dimly heard the sound of the axe thudding to the ground Lex could breathe again, and quickly took a physical inventory of himself. Head and limbs still attached - check. No mortal wounds anywhere on his body - check.

 

Mr Kent had turned away, breathing heavily. "I've been protecting Clark his *entire life*. He's never told anyone else; even people he's known for almost as long as he's been here. Then you come into town and in less than a month..."

 

Lex licked his lips, deciding not to get argumentative about the fact that it was Ryan who'd told him at least something about Clark first. "You think he was careless."

 

Flannel flexed above the back he was staring at. "I think he should have waited. I think he should have discussed it with me before deciding."

 

Lex could understand that; Martha had said the same thing. And while in some ways he did agree... "He is growing up."

 

Chuckling mirthlessly, Jonathan turned to face him. "You think I don't know that? I see it every day when he talks about you."

 

Shit. "I-"

 

"He's my son, Lex. I trust his judgement on everything else. But with this? It's not like this is something most parents have to deal with." The frustration was evident, and Lex didn't envy him the decisions he'd had to make in the past. "This whole thing is just...new territory. Even for Clark." He wanted Clark to be sure, absolutely sure about the people he told, and Clark was so young...

 

"I could go away. Come back in a few months." Give him the time to really know.

 

Jonathan's concern had lessened somewhat, enough so that Lex thought he could feel something else - faint relief. As if something had eased his mind, at least a fraction. "I think we both know that even that wouldn't stop Clark from seeing you."

 

Damn. Did everyone know about that? "I meant what I said before. I'd never hurt him. But, God forbid, if I did some day...you know my secret too." At the look of confusion, Lex continued. "You think the things I can do are public knowledge?" They really should have been by now, but Bruce probably had something to do with that. "Being psychic is generally easy to hide, but the visions? It's been so many years and I still can't control how I react." Hiding away in the Manor had kept the risk down, but out in the open here...

 

"Then what use are you?" Jonathan asked, not angrily. Just honestly. "If you can't even protect yourself, how can you protect my son?"

 

"Actually it was Clark's idea." Lex smiled and shrugged. "We help each other. If someone else is around when I see something, he gets me away. Fast."

 

Jonathan studied him seriously. At least the squint hadn't returned. "You realise," he paused, and Lex could have sworn it was just for dramatic effect, "that Clark's plan would mean spending as much time around you as possible?"

 

It hadn't even occurred to him. Well, it *had* occurred to him, just not that - as Jonathan's tone was making abundantly clear - Clark had any ulterior motive for doing so. Lex felt decidedly proud. "Why that sneaky..." He quickly remember just who Clark was in relation to the man standing a few feet away. With an axe still nearby. "...yet highly intelligent boy."

 

Jonathan harrumphed. Then sighed. "Look, you helped Ryan. That counts for a lot. And you've helped others. Clark usually has good instincts about people. I just need to think over this some more."

 

Lex nodded. "I understand. I should probably leave now, anyway." Not only was there sure to be a mother/son talk, but there was bound to be a father/son, mother/father, and hell, probably an entire Kent family discussion. That was something he wasn't meant to be there for and, truth be told, he wasn't sure he was ready for quite that much 'family' yet.

 

"Come on," Jonathan said, picking the axe up and stowing it safely at the other side of the barn, "let's go see how bad Clark is at pretending he isn't trying to figure out what we're talking about."

 

Realising that he was being let off the hook - for now - Lex stared with surprise at the receeding back before realising he was supposed to be going with it.

 

Following Mr Kent out of the barn, Lex was amused to see Clark - who had been standing on the closest end of the porch to the barn - suddenly turn away and put his back to them as if he hadn't been looking at all.

 

God, he loved that boy. What a dork (and he was entirely responsible for Lex thinking that word).

 

Smirking towards him, Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Clark!"

 

Turning back to face them, Clark smiled and moved towards the steps. "Dad, Lex! You're both still alive."

 

Now Lex rolled his eyes, pausing on his side of the fence that surrounded the yard. "No thanks to you. Mr Subtle."

 

"It got you talking to them, didn't it?" Clark answered as he happily trotted along the path that led out of the yard, looking entirely too pleased with himself. Christ, he was so cocky.

 

Lex loved it.

 

Turning to get a better look at Clark as he emerged from the yard, Lex continued talking. "I was just saying to your father that I have to get going. Things to do." Or rather, things he shouldn't be at the farm for.

 

Clark's happiness fell, and Lex hated making it go away. He started to take a step towards him, and then remembered himself. Not in front of Clark's parents. Not yet. Mr Kent was still standing next to him, and Martha had stepped out onto the porch again. "We'll talk later. I promise." When had it gotten this bad, the desire to do anything just as long as it'd make Clark smile?

 

He really had to stop secretly reading romance novels. No matter how historically accurate they were.

 

"Good." Clark said stubbornly, and Lex was reminded of the stand he took against his parents in the kitchen.

 

His lips twitched as he turned towards the house. "Thank you for a lovely meal, Mrs Kent!"

 

She waved. "You didn't eat anything, Lex!"

 

Well. That was...true. "It's the thought that counts?" Swivelling back round, he faced her husband. "Thank you for your time, Mr Kent. Really."

 

His eye twitched, but didn't develop into an actual squint. "Drive safely."

 

And then Lex was walking to his car, Clark by his side. When he felt far enough away he murmured quietly, "I think that actually went better than I expected." It was true. He actually felt hopeful.

 

Not, however, quite as abundantly hopeful as the boy practically bouncing up and down next to him. "See? I *told* you Lex. It's gonna be great. It'll be so good all four of us being able to talk about it."

 

The words slipped out before he even had time to analyse them. How did Clark do that too him? "You are so cute sometimes." There was no way to take that back, so rather than look embarrassed he tried to look as if he'd meant to say it all along.

 

Clark was having none of it. "And you're so cute when you don't mean to say things but do anyway."

 

His humiliation freshly complete, Lex pulled open his car door. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

 

"Definitely." Clark nodded. "You've come over here to talk about things, and now it's my turn."

 

Lex's hand froze on the car door. "Excuse me?"

 

"Face it, Lex. We may not like each other but Bruce and I need to talk things out. We won't tell him about me of course, but if you and I are going to be..." He looked shy, for a moment. "...closer...it's better that we do this now."

 

Clark and Bruce. Bruce and Clark. It was a combination that just didn't add up. Clark and Bruce sitting down to eat dinner together, and Clark's secret not being the only secret in the room?

 

The world as they knew it might not survive.

 

Was it really so necessary? Really, what would it accomplish? "Clark,"

 

"Lex, either you agree to this or I kiss you. Right here. In front of my parents."

 

Death by Kent. He really *was* a sneaky bastard. "You're only saying that because you're invulnerable. Some of us aren't so lucky."

 

"I'll take that as a yes." Clark declared, grabbing the door and holding it open further so Lex could climb inside.

 

Sighing, Lex slipped into the car and pulled on his seat belt. When the door slammed shut he looked through the window to see Clark lifting up a hand and waving goodbye just once.

 

There was absolutely no doubt now.

 

He was completely Clark-whipped.

 

*

 

There was a hand on his shoulder gently pushing him awake. Stretching and yawning for a few moments, Lex then let himself add the indulgence of burying further beneath the covers. Moments like these - his abilities clouded by sleep - were heavenly.

 

The hand was back on his shoulder and though he probably should have found it annoying, instead he felt a smile forming on his lips. "Clark?"

 

"Not quite."

 

His eyes snapped open.

 

Shit.

 

Bruce was a few steps away already, as if he hadn't been anywhere near him. Annoyed at his own lack of control - and that whatever conclusion Bruce would jump to actually bothered him - Lex pulled the covers tightly over himself defensively. "What are you doing here?"

 

"It's after ten."

 

Eyes widening, Lex glanced at the clock on his bedside table. When was the last time he'd slept through his alarm? Making the decision he moved, throwing the covers off to get out of bed. "I see." Doing his best to ignore Bruce's presence - and the unmistakable amusement eking through Bruce's usual control - Lex padded across the room bare foot, wearing only the pyjama bottoms he'd slept in.

 

Bruce followed, pausing when Lex entered the bathroom. "Enrique was planning on waking you earlier but I told him to let you sleep. You obviously needed it."

 

Flicking on the bathroom light, Lex winced at the brightness and caught his bleary-eyed reflection in the mirror. Where had that good mood from yesterday morning gone?

 

Still studiously ignoring Bruce, Lex focused on the process of brushing his teeth with a great deal more enthusiasm than usual.

 

The mirror showed Bruce leaning against the doorway behind him, and after a minute or two of simply observing he finally spoke again. "Late night last night?"

 

Glaring at the reflection, Lex then lowered his head and started rinsing out his mouth. As if Bruce hadn't known the *exact* moment he'd arrived back at the castle.

 

He hadn't gone straight home last night, instead spending several hours driving around the outskirts of Smallville. He'd driven over many of the same roads again and again, but he'd been trying to burn off the emotional energy of the evening.

 

All the conflict, fear, and anger he'd felt - not to mention his own desire for Clark - had sent him speeding along the roads. Crowds of people could be problematic but for the most part he was used to coping with them. They generally weren't feeling the depth of emotion the Kents had been giving off, and that was the problem. He'd seen all kinds of ugliness in people's minds, but the utter *fear* and love they felt for their son - the kind of fear no other parent would have to deal with - wasn't something he was used to blocking, and it was playing havoc with his control.

 

He could only hope that the longer he knew them, the better he got at not letting it overwhelm him.

 

Placing his hands together under the faucet, he scooped some water up and threw it onto his face.

 

"Speaking of Clark," Bruce continued as Lex grabbed the hand towel and rubbed it over his face, "he called earlier."

 

The towel paused momentarily because of two things. Clark had called, and Clark had called and he'd slept even through the ringing of the phone? "That's nice," he said, pulling the towel away from his face and trying to sound non-committal.

 

"He was calling to confirm the dinner plans you apparently extended to him for tonight. With me."

 

Lex sighed mentally. He really had to talk to Clark about letting him do *some* things himself. Or at least let him sound like he'd thought of it himself. "Yeah, didn't get a chance to talk to you last night. Thought it might be an idea for the three of us to sit down for a meal together."

 

"Obviously," Bruce retorted, "seeing as we all get along so well together."

 

"Look." Lex threw the towel into the bath and finally turned to face Bruce. "He's my friend. It'll make things simpler all round if the two of you can get along." If he couldn't force Bruce out of his life, he could at least try to make some aspects of him being there easier. Maybe Clark had been right about this.

 

Bruce just kept staring at him, still leaning against the doorway. "Invite your 'friend' over for dinner. I've been going to mind-numbing social functions for years. I'm sure I can handle Clark Kent."

 

*

 

A certain phrase had been appropriate at countless moments throughout Lex's life, but never quite like this. The tension was so thick that even ramming into it with his car wouldn't have made a dent in it.

 

If anything, it'd dent the car.

 

And seeing as whatever car he drove probably belonged to Bruce, it might actually be worth it.

 

Clark had arrived about forty minutes ago, and had immediately been shown into the library where Lex and Bruce were waiting. Lex had been relieved to see that Clark had made an effort - smart black pants and a blue shirt. Though Lex personally didn't care if Clark wore jeans or a burlap sack, tonight he'd take anything that would make the evening go smoothly.

 

The three of them had stood in the library for over half an hour, the conversation so stilted it was almost painful. So much for Bruce's self-proclaimed conversational skills.

 

When Enrique had walked in and declared that dinner was served, Lex had almost hugged him. Except he didn't do that kind of thing, so he might have to get Clark to do it later on his behalf.

 

Now they were seated at the table: Lex and Bruce at their usual seats at opposite ends, Clark at one side between them. At least he could focus on his food now.

 

"So Mr Wayne," Clark said cheerily, making Lex look up from his meal and realise that Clark was trying to get along with every ounce of his being, "how do you spend your time in Smallville? Have you been around town much?"

 

Lowering his spoon back down to his soup, Bruce evidently saw the effort being put in. Lex was astounded when he started doing the same. "Most of my time is spent dealing with my company. The people there are well trained, but I like to keep my eye on things even while I'm away. I haven't had much of an opportunity to explore much of Smallville."

 

"I'd be happy to show you around some time," Clark offered.

 

"I'll think about it." Bruce replied calmly. "Thank you."

 

Except, Lex realised, this may have been worse than before. Now they were being so teeth-clenchingly polite that one or both of them would probably need some dental work by the time they were done - regardless of Clark's invulnerability.

 

Desperate for some conversation that wouldn't be entirely fake, he said the first thing that came to mind..."Clark's doing well in history."...which was quite possibly the biggest non-sequitur he could have come out with.

 

"That's right," Bruce said as if he'd forgotten, his earlier attempt at civility apparently a one-time occurrence, "you're in *school*, aren't you Clark?"

 

His tone annoyed Lex, and it apparently pissed the hell out of Clark too. His manners disappeared again and Lex couldn't honestly say that he was sorry.

 

"Yes. And Lex is right - I'm doing well in history. We've been reading a lot about domineering father figures lately. It's interesting reading."

 

To hell with them getting along. Lex could sit there and watch Clark bait Bruce all day long.

 

"I'm glad to hear you're getting such a thorough education. It's especially important that the young be well-informed."

 

Clark seemed to be turning red, and not out of embarrassment. "Why are you staying in Smallville? Why are you even still here?"

 

The food was all but forgotten. "I'm protecting my interests."

 

Lex's eyebrows went up. The only interest Bruce had in Smallville was Marth-

 

"You think Lex needs protecting from me?" Clark snorted.

 

What the fuck?

 

"I don't know if you're good for him or not."

 

Holy shit.

 

This was about him? About what kind of relationship he was going to have with Clark? And not because of laws, or right and wrong, but because Bruce was *worried* about him?

 

"You think you love him better than me?"

 

And there was young, defiant Clark again, doing everything wrong.

 

But really, the idea of Bruce loving him was so...*so*, that there wasn't even a word for it.

 

Bruce didn't even look surprised by Clark's outburst. "I don't think you even know what that is."

 

Clark snapped, but luckily for the rest of them the table didn't when he whacked his hand down on it. A full shouting match was emerging now. Well...shouting from Clark, and ever-so-slightly less than calm responses from Bruce, which were no doubt pissing Clark off all the more. Lex knew exactly what that felt like.

 

It was as if Lex wasn't even there now and the room was growing smaller and smaller and he only realised he was whistling when Clark stopped shouting long enough to stare at him.

 

His beleaguered ears noticed the silence and thanked him even more when he promptly pulled his hand away from his mouth and stopped whistling. Now having both of their attention, he addressed Clark first. "Clark: calm down. And for Christ's sake, let me act like I still have a spine sometimes. Much as I enjoy your protective side on occasion, I *can* stand up for myself." Ignoring the forming pout, he turned to look at Bruce. "And you. You talk about love but you've never shown it to anyone your entire life, not even Selina. So before you start lecturing Clark on what he does or doesn't know about love, think about the fact that he's never had any problem showing it. Now," he shifted in his chair, "I'm going to sit here and wait for Enrique to serve the next course, because thanks to the two of you my soup is stone cold."

 

There was a great deal of blinking in the silence that followed, and eventually there was more movement.

 

Clark pushed back his chair, stood up, and walked to the doorway. "Need to use the bathroom." He muttered as he left.

 

When Clark was gone and it was just the two of them, Bruce stared at him from the other end of the table.

 

"Well," he said, "that went as well as expected."

 

"Bruce?"

 

"Lex?"

 

"Shut up."

 

*

 

The phone call that interrupted the main portion of their meal was unexpected but something of a relief. Much as Lex had enjoyed getting certain things off his chest, he appreciated the time away from the others. They could both be so...*so*.

 

Something else he didn't have a word for. There was nothing else for it - he was simply going to have to expand his vocabulary.

 

He was pleased to discover it was Henry who had called, and rather than cut the conversation short as he might have done if it had been anyone else sitting in the dining room, it was some ten minutes later when he finally hung up. His meal could well have been completely ruined by now, but his own (admittedly childish) rebellion actually made him feel better.

 

Until he returned to the dining room.

 

No one was there. Dishes, cutlery and half-eaten meals, but no hot, sexy aliens or dark, broody maniacs.

 

Confused, he focused his mind, trying to get a sense of something - anyone. Finding something he stepped back into the hallway and saw Enrique waiting for him.

 

Lex eyed him suspiciously. He hadn't been there just a moment ago. "Where are they?"

 

"Talking privately," Enrique replied.

 

"That wasn't what I asked." Lex pointed out, stopping around Enrique and reaching out with his mind again. Getting something from the general area of his office, he started walking towards it. "Should I even remind you that you supposedly work for me?" He asked, knowing the butler was following.

 

"There's no need to remind me, Lex." Enrique said, somehow moving so quickly that he was in front of Lex, effectively stopping him from opening the annoyingly closed office door. "I know perfectly well who I work for."

 

"Enrique!" Didn't he understand? Clark and Bruce were in there *alone*, and that could only mean bad things. If the castle ended up being reduced to rubble within just a few hours, Enrique would have no one to blame but himself.

 

Plus...Lex's curiousity was getting the best of him. He had to know what the hell they were talking about. What were they discussing? More importantly, what were they saying about *him*?

 

Enrique held firm. "I have strict instructions that they are not to be interrupted."

 

Lex couldn't help but wonder - had one of them planned this? Had they decided long before the meal that they'd conspire to get Lex out of the way so they could talk privately? Was Henry in on it too?

 

No. No, Bruce may have given him reason to be paranoid in the past, but the idea of things being a set-up just didn't ring true. This was a spur of the moment decision. "Fine." He snapped. "But I'm not moving until they come out of there. And I've changed my mind about you calling me by my first name."

 

"Very well, sir," Enrique replied with barely a pause, "I have to clear the table. Would you like some milk and cookies when I'm done?"

 

Where the hell had Alfred found this guy? Sarcastic Butlers Are Us? "Yes." Lex answered, deciding he could be just as irritating. "That would be *lovely*." Come to think of it, milk and cookies did sound quite appealing.

 

Not that he was about to say that.

 

"Yes sir." Enrique all but stood to attention, moved away from the door, and walked calmly out of sight.

 

Lex studied the door carefully. Knowing his luck it'd be equipped with some kind of butler sensor and simply touching it would cause Enrique to come running right back. Besides, rationally he knew that opening the door would just make Clark and Bruce stop talking, and he'd never learn what they were saying anyway.

 

If he'd been desperate enough he could have concentrated and listened to the conversation via Bruce, but he had no intention of going that far into Bruce's mind *ever* again. He didn't enjoy going into anyone's mind that far, and as eager as he was to know what they were talking about his desire for the information wasn't strong enough to put himself through *that*.

 

So, resigning himself to the fact that he could do nothing but wait, Lex stood there. After a few minutes had passed Enrique appeared twice - first with a chair, then with the milk and cookies (Lex subsequently adjusted his mood from extremely annoyed to vaguely irritated).

 

Sitting in the hallway of a Scottish castle with a glass of milk in his left hand and a plate of cookies resting on his lap, waiting to find out what the two men with the biggest influence over his life were saying about him...Lex felt possibly the youngest he'd ever felt.

 

Not once did he hear a raised voice and when the door opened some forty minutes later Lex stood up - careful to avoid the dishes he'd placed on the floor - and walked directly into Bruce's path.

 

Bruce looked at him, frowning heavily. "He's..." His head moved, swivelling back to face the room Clark was still standing in, before turning to look at Lex again. "...*irritating*." And with that, Bruce brushed by him and walked away.

 

Shaking his head, Lex stared after him as he walked into the office, but quickly turned his attention to Clark. He looked surprised and...concerned? "Hey, are you all right?" Lex asked, pausing a few inches away and reaching out to place a hand on Clark's forearm.

 

He never reached his target - or at least, not the way he intended - because he was suddenly grabbed by a pair of amazingly strong arms and pulled into a tight embrace.

 

"Mmfph!" He said into the shoulder he was breathing against. "Clark?" Not that he was complaining, exactly, but given that Clark had just been talking to Bruce it was definitely cause for concern. "What the fuck did he say?"

 

Clark's hold lessened somewhat - which was great news for Lex's lungs - but he didn't move away, his nose rubbing against Lex's neck. "He wasn't...horrible, or anything. I'm not sure he even meant to say what he *did* say, but...well you know how I can be when I don't get what I want. Maybe he thought it would explain something."

 

Lex wasn't sure Clark had ever been stopped from getting what he wanted. Pulling back slightly - which took some convincing for Clark to let him move - he met Clark's gaze. "What did he say?"

 

Glancing away, Clark shrugged. "I kinda promised I wouldn't say anything."

 

Secrets. More secrets. His whole fucking *life* was based on secrets. And Clark was still monumentally bad at keeping them. "Clark, you can't just tell me that much and then not tell me everything."

 

"I can't?"

 

"No!" He paused. "Okay, yes. But it's irritating. And if it's upsetting you this much and it's about *me*, I think I really should know about it."

 

Sighing, Clark shrugged. "It's just...have you ever had a CAT scan or whatever?"

 

That really was, utterly and completely, the last thing he'd expected to come out of Clark's mouth. "I, uh..." This was just *odd*. "I had a couple as a child." He vaguely remembered the extreme sense of creepiness of being inside that thing.

 

"So it's been a while?" Clark took in Lex's nod and continued. "Maybe you should have another one. In fact you should definitely have another one. Right now. We can drive to the hospital today and-"

 

"*Clark*." Silence. Thank God. He spoke clearly, enunciating as much as possible. "What. Is. Going. On?"

 

"I just feel so dumb!" Clark exclaimed, as if that were all the answer Lex needed. "I mean the things Ryan could do and all the things you can do, and I never even thought to ask. I officially suck at being a boyfriend."

 

Lex's brain finally connected it together, and when it did he was amazed it'd taken him so long. "You think Ryan's gift was responsible for his tumour, instead of the other way round. You're worried the same thing's going to happen to me." Even more amazingly... "Bruce..."

 

"He's been trying to find out." Clark said quietly. "Watching you, looking for any physical signs. He said the only reason he didn't know for sure yet was because he hadn't thought up a good enough excuse to get you to the hospital."

 

This was...he was...Lex felt himself take a mental step back, trying to *understand*. He said the only thing he could. "I'm a little disappointed by Bruce's lack of creativity."

 

"Lex..." Clark all but pleaded. "Give him a chance."

 

It was a little too much to take in. Somehow, in the space of less than an hour, Clark had turned into Bruce's biggest advocate. He couldn't deal with all this right now; needed time to process. "I'll arrange an appointment, but it could be a while until they can see-"

 

"Um," Clark interrupted, "Bruce kinda offered to use his pull to get you in ASAP."

 

"'Offered'?"

 

"I bugged him until he said yes. He didn't really put up a fight."

 

With Bruce's pull, Clark's original plan could have been accomplished. "Okay," Lex agreed, "but we'll go on Saturday, all right? That way you won't have to miss school." There was no mistaking the fact that Clark would be coming with him.

 

Clearly impatient, Clark nodded nonetheless. "Okay. Thank you."

 

Lex smiled but really, this had been an extremely bizarre evening. Bruce actually worried about him. Bruce caring about him *so* much that he actually discussed it with Clark. The possibility of him being sick rearing his head - although Lex didn't believe for a single second that he actually was sick, he was surprised that he hadn't even considered the possibility until now.

 

Focusing his attention back on Clark, he figured the distractions had been obvious enough. "So...boyfriend?"

 

Clark flushed. "Well...I mean I know we've never really discussed what we *are*..."

 

"It's okay, Clark." It really was. "I like it." He'd never been able to say that he'd had a boyfriend before. The fact that the boyfriend in question was Clark made it better than he would have thought.

 

"It's how I think of you." Clark admitted, almost shy.

 

So. Cute. "So we're officially...what's the term...going steady?"

 

Clark laughed. "Sure, if you live in the '50's."

 

Lex squinted deliberately. "You realise that you're making fun of your boyfriend?"

 

"Yup." He seemed delighted by the prospect.

 

"And that making fun of said boyfriend may result in me denying you all your boyfriendly rights?" He was making up words now. Clark really *was* his boyfriend.

 

Clark's smile faded, and he appeared to think over Lex's words with great effort. "Well, I suppose the only thing I can do is try to ensure that you *never* want to deny me my boyfriendly rights."

 

"Really?" Lex asked, smiling ridiculously, and there was hum in his chest that had nothing to do with his body. "And how do you plan to do that?"

 

"Something like...*this*." Clark said, and before Lex knew what was happening there was a wall against his back, a hand down his pants, and a mouth hungrily moving over his own.

 

Clark - 1.

 

Lex's plan for denying Clark his boyfriendly rights - 0.

 

*

 

Lex wasn't especially fond of hospitals, but then he honestly couldn't say he knew anyone who was. Still, Clark's presence definitely helped drag things up from 'bleh, hospitals' to 'could be worse'. Lex could only feel pity for those poor souls who didn't have Clark watching over them.

 

Not that he was willing to share.

 

Territorial though he felt, Lex also knew that Clark's sullen mood was impossible to deny. "Hey," Lex said from where he sat on the edge of the hospital bed, "it'll be okay."

 

Clark glared from his seat a few feet away as if this were all Lex's fault. "You don't know that."

 

Well, no. He didn't actually know. When had Clark started thinking so logically? "No, but I *do* know that I'm not going to die anytime today." Unless he got hit by a bus or something, but he decided against mentioning that to Clark. It probably wouldn't be appreciated. "What happened to the optimist convinced we could take on the world together? Or at least your parents."

 

Clark's lips didn't even twitch. "It'd just be...God, I don't know. It'd just *suck* if I'd finally found you and..."

 

Finally found him. Lex had a great fondness for Clark's particular brand of hyperbole. Not to mention great amusement. "Don't go burying me yet. I just bought new shoes."

 

"Don't." Clark interrupted and suddenly he was *there*, grabbing Lex's shoulder. *Angry*. "Don't *do* that. I love you."

 

Deciding that any further attempts to 'argue' would be useless right now, and oh - his heart was about to implode (good thing he was already in a hospital) - Lex took the opportunity to peer around Clark's shoulder.

 

The door to his room was shut, the blinds covering the windows were drawn and he was disgustingly-pink-and-frilly-things, ready-to-burst-into-song in love with Clark Kent. Obviously never about to wear *anything* pink and frilly or actually about to start singing, Lex decided to thoroughly kiss Clark instead.

 

They'd had enough practice by now that it was neither sloppy nor hesitant; both diving straight in, mouths then tongues clashing together. Forcing himself to keep it brief, Lex pulled away after just a few seconds. There were many things he could deal with, but facing the doctor - or even worse, *Bruce* - with a hard on wasn't one of them.

 

"Good, it'll be good." He murmured, resting his forehead against Clark's shoulder and feeling strong arms wrap around him. "I'm not fucking leaving you, Clark." It should have terrified him, and in some ways it probably did.

 

The arms tightened almost to the point of pain. "You'd better not or I'm gonna have to kill you."

 

Ah, Clark snark. Chuckling, Lex leant away. "Well if you wouldn't mind holding off on the homicide for now, you could do me a favour instead."

 

"I guess a condemned man *does* deserve a last request."

 

And now Clark was simply being a sarcastic bastard. Maybe his influence was rubbing off... "Send Bruce in, smartass." The shadow had been lurking outside ever since he and Clark had arrived at the hospital. "We need to talk."

 

"Sure." The arms tightened again, then there was another brief kiss before Clark turned away, opened the door and left the room.

 

Feeling a little better about this if they were on equal terms, Lex was standing up when Bruce entered.

 

And still wearing a hospital gown.

 

Damn.

 

They stood studying each other for a while, the bald kid and Batman. Lex wasn't sure which one the average Joe would find scarier.

 

"I appreciate everything you've done." Lex said eventually. "I still doubt that there's anything wrong with me, but in case I'm wrong...thank you. For...caring." There. It'd been said. And he was more scared now, of this, then of that machine he was headed for later today.

 

Being something other than a nuisance, or a means to an end. Being someone that Bruce actually cared about...it was still hard to digest, because Bruce didn't care about anyone.

 

But maybe that was his own fault. Lex had deliberately kept his distance, pushed on by the nightmares of what he'd seen as a child; never, ever wanting to get anywhere near Bruce's mind again.

 

And there it was, plain and simple:

 

Maybe he'd been wrong.

 

Maybe.

 

"That said," because he was still Lex Luthor, and he was still talking to Bruce Wayne, "I could be well on my way to death already, because you didn't say anything before. Rather than voice your concerns earlier you kept quiet because...what? You didn't want to make it public that you cared about me?"

 

The grey mess that was Bruce's mind...shifted. "Should I remind you that I'm the only one who even thought of it? That even Clark didn't think about it and if I wasn't here you'd be none the wiser?" Damn. Lex was actually starting to feel *guilty*. "I have my own way of doing things, Lex."

 

Which was about as close to a yes as Bruce was going to get. "I know. I've known that practically my entire life." Bruce's way had never been like anyone else's. "Most of the time that's no problem, but with something like this...you should have said." The guilt was still there but he pushed ahead, knowing it was worth saying. "You should have said something, Bruce."

 

"I did. To Clark." He still looked annoyed at himself over that.

 

"*Earlier*." Dear God, sometimes Bruce was exactly like Clark...and there was a comparison he never thought he'd be making. "God, you're frustrating."

 

That seemed to spark something in Bruce. "You think you're any better?"

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"I mean you pick up and suddenly move to Nowheresville, USA. You suddenly display an interest in your father's company when you never have before. You abandon your car on the side of the road to go rescue a high school student from some nefarious fate. You then pursue a relationship with the aforementioned high school student, which, given that you're both male, is definitely illegal."

 

Annoyingly feeling the need to defend himself, Lex spoke. "We haven't-"

 

"I did *not* look after you just to see you go to jail for sodomy."

 

He couldn't believe those words had come out of Bruce's mouth. He believed it even less when Bruce took a step towards him and something that may have conceivably been a smile appeared on his face.

 

"Lex, if you're going to break the law...why not break a really *big* one?"

 

Wait.

 

Lex blinked.

 

Wait. Wait. Had Bruce just made a *joke*? About *sex*?

 

Clearly Lex must have had some kind of head trauma, because this didn't happen in any universe he resided in. "What?"

 

"Seriously, Lex. You have the Luthor name to live up to."

 

Bruce was being funny. Bruce was being...funny.

 

Lex was terrified. "Okay."

 

Bruce was staring at him. "I don't think Luthor's are supposed to wear expressions like that."

 

That must have been his 'holy shit what the hell is going on?' expression. "I don't think you're supposed to tell jokes. Ever." He blinked again. "Really."

 

Bruce's face quirked into something that was definitely a half-smile, fairly straining at the effort. "Whatever you do, Lex, just be...circumspect."

 

"Right." And now Bruce was giving him relationship advice. Definitely an alternate reality. "Yes. Of course." He really needed to lie down. "What now?"

 

"Now, we get the scan done." He gestured towards Lex. "When it turns out that there's nothing there, I go back to Gotham. Get back to work again. I've been away too long as it is."

 

Lex knew what work he meant, and didn't ask if he'd missed it. There were only so many new things they could tackle in one conversation. "No other reason for you to stay, I guess. Unless you have a penchant for cow tipping."

 

Bruce's smile flickered. "Not quite, Lex. Besides, I think Selina would probably," he looked at Lex purposefully, "*scratch my eyes out* if I stayed here much longer."

 

Lex stared.

 

And stared.

 

And *stared*.

 

"You *knew*?!"

 

*

 

It was over.

 

After reaching the castle Lex had gone straight to bed. Not to sleep, just to...be. It'd seemed a good place for it.

 

He was still there now, laying on his left side, fully dressed with the exception of his jacket and shoes. With a certain Clark Kent pressed up behind him, his right arm holding Lex close.

 

He hadn't expected to feel like this.

 

"Lex?" Muffled voice against his head.

 

"Hmm?" Speaking seemed like too much effort at the moment. Everything did.

 

"You've barely said a word since we left the hospital." Concern coloured Clark's voice; made him hesitant. "Do you...do you want to talk about it?"

 

Talking meant dealing with it so no, he'd really rather not. "Talking's overrated."

 

Clark didn't respond verbally. The arm across Lex's body moved gently, Clark's hand rubbing in slow circles over his stomach. Sighing, Lex leant into the touch.

 

The hand moved again, further this time, brushing over the front of his pants.

 

Lex felt his dick stir. "Clark..."

 

"Shhh," Clark started fumbling with the zipper, his voice quiet, "I want to make you feel better. At least for a while."

 

Lex's conscience held out for as long as it took for Clark to finally undo his pants and get his hand beneath Lex's boxers.

 

He groaned, hardening swiftly in Clark's hand. "God, Clark."

 

"Love you." A kiss on his neck, Clark moving carefully as if worried of causing pain. "Is this okay?"

 

"Christ, yes." He pushed against the hand deliberately. "Just a little harde-fuck, yes!" *Perfect*. Just the pressure he liked now except it was Clark doing it which made it *so* much hotter. It may have been a weird angle for Clark to work from, but Lex had no complaints. "Fast learner..." He panted.

 

There was chuckling near his ear, and even through the layers of clothing he could feel Clark's erection pressing against him. Lex bent his knees slightly and Clark must have felt it because then he was rubbing against him; would have been right against his ass were it not for Italian pants and denim jeans.

 

Clark groaned, rocking against him and Lex rocked back, hissing when Clark's thumb pressed against the tip of his dick.

 

They stumbled their way into some kind of rhythm - Lex was being assailed from both sides and really didn't care. Their movements became jerkier, both of them obviously close and Lex could feel the muscles in his body start to tense.

 

"Clark," he gasped, "let me go." And Clark didn't question it, just released him and then Lex was turning, pushing Clark onto his back and rocking, thrusting down onto him mercilessly.

 

"Lex!"

 

That voice, that voice and one, two, three thrusts and then his balls were tightening and he was coming, hard.

 

Realised, after a few blissful moments, that Clark had too.

 

Sprawled across Clark's body, breathing heavily, Lex felt the stickiness between them and grinned. It wasn't particularly comfortable, but this was the first time anyone had made him come. It felt like something worth grinning about.

 

"Um." Clark said breathlessly, staring up at the ceiling in what might have been shock. "I could get used to that."

 

That statement definitely deserved a kiss, so Lex shifted slightly - shuddering as his sensitive dick dragged across denim again - and kissed Clark slowly and easily.

 

When he finally pulled away, Clark was smiling.

 

"So I guess this means you've stopped freaking out, huh?"

 

Lex tried to perfect his 'evil eye' squint. "I was not 'freaking out'."

 

"Yes you were."

 

"No I wasn't."

 

"Were too."

 

This was really very childish, Lex decided.

 

Not that that thought stopped him from responding.

 

"Was not."

 

"Were too."

 

"At least I didn't come in my pants." That was definitely his trump card.

 

"No," Clark agreed, still grinning, "you just came all *over* them instead."

 

Bastard.

 

But speaking of which... "You should take your clothes off. We need to get them cleaned before you go home." He didn't even want to be in the same state if Mr Kent saw anything that shouldn't be there.

 

"Well it'd help if a certain someone moved off me first."

 

Ha. "Like you can't move me yourself."

 

And just like that Lex was on his back and Clark was in the bathroom, the sound of running water being Lex's only clue to Clark's location.

 

It was as a still somewhat shy - and naked - Clark climbed under the covers that Lex finally recovered the power of speech. "I had no idea you were that fast." They'd talked about it of course, the night Clark had told him about his abilities. But he'd never really *seen*...realising Clark was looking somewhat nervous, he kept talking. "That is so cool!" Just for those few seconds he didn't care if he sounded like a geek - he was dating a superhero. He had every right in the world to be geeky.

 

Smiling at a now-grinning Clark, Lex decided to follow his example and headed for the bathroom. After cleaning himself up and slipping into a robe, Lex left the bedroom declaring his intention to start cleaning their clothes.

 

Deciding to pointedly ignore Clark's too-surprised question of: "You know how to wash clothes?"

 

He certainly did, and he wasn't about to let anyone else in the castle clean these particular clothes.

 

When he returned a few minutes later Clark scooted over to the other side of the bed in clear invitation. Still not used to anyone seeing him naked, Lex waited until he was at the edge of the bed before dropping his robe and quickly climbing beneath the covers.

 

God, Clark was so *warm*. He'd always been that way, but with nothing between them at all now it was even more apparent and Lex snuggled...uh, rested his head on Clark's shoulder and enjoyed the unusual feel of another body next to his own.

 

"Lex?"

 

"Yeah?" Talking seemed much more manageable now. And it was very nice the way Clark's voice rumbled through him.

 

"Seriously, are you okay? It just seems weird, I mean...I thought you'd be *happy*. Thrilled."

 

Dealing seemed easier too. "I am, Clark, believe me. I am very, very happy that there's nothing wrong with me." And no sign at all that there was going to be. "I guess I just didn't expect to be so..."

 

"What?"

 

"*Relieved*." Telling himself, telling Clark over and over that there was nothing wrong, that he was fine, and it was only after he knew for sure that he realised how fucking scared he'd been. How good he was at hiding it. "I didn't even know I was expecting the worst until I was told there was nothing there."

 

Clark kissed the side of his head. "You and Bruce are all about denial, aren't you?"

 

That was vaguely disturbing. "Can we not talk about Bruce while we're in bed please?"

 

"Well he probably knows what we've been doing anyway. It's not like we were quiet."

 

And that was something Lex had been trying very hard not to think about. Bruce had come home with them and wasn't due to leave for Gotham until tomorrow, which meant he was still in the castle.

 

Somewhere.

 

"Thank you, Clark."

 

They lapsed into silence then, and Lex was just starting to think that this would be a really nice place to fall asleep when Clark spoke again.

 

"Lex?"

 

"Mmm?"

 

"We had sex."

 

Surprised (although Clark was a self-proclaimed 'horny teenager', so he really shouldn't have been), Lex looked at Clark's face and chuckled at the shit-eating grin he saw there.

 

"Pretty much." He agreed, grinning in return though hoping next time there would be much fewer clothes in the way. "Clearly I was no match for your wanton hussiness."

 

"Glad to hear it." Clark sighed happily, drawing Lex closer.

 

Lex didn't object. In fact Lex didn't do much of anything except lay there, listen to Clark breathe, and try not to think about what lie Clark had told his parents about what he was doing today.

 

*

 

Lex's Sunday morning was spent thinking over the Saturday or, more specifically, the second half of Saturday.

 

The half spent in bed. With Clark. *Clark*.

 

Clark had eventually left a little after ten but before that there'd been a lot more exploring and a *lot* more rubbing. There were still plenty of things they hadn't done yet, but Lex wasn't in any rush. It was...nice, discovering things at their own speed.

 

Shifting in his office chair, Lex discovered something else. His dick was apparently destined to twitch every time he even thought of Clark now.

 

As his lips moved into what he knew had to be a self-satisfied smile, he decided he'd just *have* to live with it.

 

When Clark eventually turned up nearly an hour late (fifty-seven minutes, fourteen seconds...not that Lex had been keeping track on his extremely expensive and extremely accurate watch) he was immediately contrite, apologising as he walked into Lex's office.

 

"Sorry I'm late. Dad insisted on working with me while I did my chores which meant working at normal speed." Lex stood up and walked around the desk, moving to meet him as Clark kept talking. "I think-"

 

Not that Lex didn't enjoy hearing Clark talk, but kissing definitely seemed the appropriate way to greet him today.

 

The kiss deepened, but Clark recovered and quickly pulled him closer. By the time their mouths parted their arms were wrapped around each other and Lex should have been horrified when he realised he was living a cliche from one of those romance novels he didn't read - he wasn't entirely sure where he ended and Clark began.

 

But he wasn't exactly complaining. "Hey." He greeted warmly, thinking he probably sounded like a lovestruck teenager.

 

Oh wait. He was.

 

"Hey yourself." Clark replied. There was that shit-eating grin again.

 

Lex kissed him once more, briefly. "You were saying something?"

 

"No, wasn't saying anything." Bending his head, Clark bit gently at Lex's neck. "I think we should do more of this kissing thing, though."

 

Lex groaned softly - they'd both discovered yesterday afternoon exactly what biting did to him. Any chance he may have had at persuading his dick not to get too excited was lost, and he rubbed against Clark slowly before forcing himself to stop. "We can't do this right now, Clark." Though it'd been a lot happier with him lately, he wouldn't be surprised at all if his dick started swearing at him in French later. This *was* Smallville after all.

 

"Why not?" Clark whined, deliberately nipping at his neck again.

 

Oh *fuck*. Words, he had to form words. And he really had to stop moving against Clark like that. "Because you're here to see Bruce, not make me," Clark's hands suddenly shifted, grabbing his hips and grinding their groins closer together, "oh God."

 

"Hmmm." Clark mused aloud. "In danger of making you 'oh God', am I?"

 

Smug bastard. "I'm gonna oh God all over you if you keep that up." Ah, Christ. Bad terminology.

 

"Not really complaining, Lex." He was definitely amused, and just before moving to bite for a third time his mouth whispered to Lex's ear, "I think about you when I jerk off."

 

That was it. Lex was only human, and he was a human coming in his pants after having no defence against Clark's evil alien tactics.

 

Dimly becoming aware of the fact that strong hands were still holding onto his hips, Lex decided this was a good thing. They were probably the only things keeping him upright. "Clark?" Mmm.

 

A slow, luxurious kiss. "Yeah?"

 

"You definitely have a future in telephone sex lines." Clark's surprised but delighted laugh was something he hoped he'd become familiar with. He would have been quite content to stay where he was forever...were it not for the state of his pants and the possibility of Bruce stumbling across them. "Clark, I have to walk through the castle with come in my pants."

 

"I know." Yeah, definitely pleased with himself. Shouldn't this have been the other way around? Shouldn't it be the sixteen year-old who couldn't control himself?

 

Only one way to remedy this situation. "You realise, of course, that this means war."

 

The challenge seemed to appeal to Clark. "Do your worst, Come Boy."

 

Lex sighed. "Clark, we really have to work on nicknames."

 

*

 

One hour and a change of clothes later, they finally went back downstairs for lunch. Lex had been surprised when Clark had revealed that he'd brought a spare pair of jeans with him - having learnt from yesterday's experience - and had placed them on the table in Lex's room before heading to the office.

 

Praising Clark for his resourcefulness in a variety of ways (most of them involving naked skin), an excited yet somewhat terrified Lex then told him he could keep a pair of jeans at the castle for as long as he wanted.

 

Clark's thank you had been equally varied.

 

Bruce was already seated when they walked in, not looking much different than he did at most meals. They may have reached some kind of understanding the day before, but Bruce was always going to be Bruce.

 

Clark didn't particularly help matters when he strode in with an enthusiastic "Hey Bruce!" and then moved his chair so it was closer to Lex.

 

Again, not that Lex was complaining.

 

But if looks really could kill, he suspected that both he and Clark would have been reduced to mere ash some time ago.

 

Lunch had been Clark's idea. After receiving the good news at the hospital and also being told that Bruce was planning to leave late Sunday afternoon, he'd suggested - insisted - that they all have lunch together beforehand.

 

"He's your family," Clark had argued when Lex asked him what he was doing, "and he cares about you. You care about him. We have to do *something*."

 

*Something* apparently meant trying not to sneak looks at each other as Bruce studiously avoided looking at them. Conversation didn't flow, exactly, but it wasn't as stilted as it'd been the last time they'd tried this. The food was good, some of the company better (though Lex had good reason to be biased) and for possibly the first time he could recall he was actually enjoying himself at a meal in the castle.

 

That, of course, was the exact moment that Bruce started on a new topic of conversation.

 

"So what have you two been up to today? From what I heard it sounded loud." He sipped at his coffee lightly. "Painful, too."

 

Lex tried to calculate which would be less embarrassing: hiding beneath the table or running madly out of the room. "No." He did his best to keep his face composed. Annoyed at himself for even feeling embarrassed, he focused on his response. "Wasn't painful. We were just getting some exercise." Which sounded like an incredibly pathetic excuse but really, what else was he supposed to say?

 

"Really *good* exercise," Clark added, and Lex realised that there actually were a few times when he really didn't want to hear Clark's voice. Now being chief among them.

 

But Bruce, apparently, was willing to play along. "That's good. Exercise is good for you. Of course I wouldn't recommend exercising quite so publicly..."

 

"Duly noted." Lex said, before Clark had a chance to get anything out. "We'll be more..." Ha. He had just the word. "...circumspect."

 

Bruce's coffee cup lifted up again, and Lex could have sworn it was to hide a smile.

 

*

 

It was different this time. Lex wasn't the one eagerly driving away, escaping his past and Wayne Manor. Instead it was Bruce who was leaving and Lex really wasn't sure what he was supposed to feel.

 

All of Bruce's clothes and the few possessions he'd brought with him had been put in the trunk of his car, and the man himself stood in front of him. It'd never occurred to Lex until now how *wrong* it was to see Bruce standing in sunlight. He was so completely out of his natural habitat. Gotham suited him, and for the first time Lex considered the possibility that this may not have been a bad thing.

 

Clark was talking to Bruce now, saying something that Lex wasn't supposed to overhear before Bruce muttered one last thing. Nodding in reply, Clark held out his hand. There was no pause, no hesitation as they measured each other's worth. They simply shook hands.

 

He was *so* finding out what that was about later.

 

Clark had stepped back, towards the castle, and now it was just the two of them. It felt a little like Lex had never met the man he was about to say goodbye to. He couldn't think of anything to say other than... "Thank you."

 

Bruce wasn't one for ceremony, holding his hand out towards him.

 

Lex stared down at the hand and suddenly knew what to say. "What, no hug?"

 

"I don't know who taught you to be such a sarcastic bastard," Bruce said when Lex finally shook his hand, "but I look forward to meeting him."

 

Lex pulled away, feeling oddly like smiling. "His name's Alfred."

 

Bruce actually blinked, the left side of his mouth turning upwards. "That certainly explains a lot."

 

Bruce moved then, without a goodbye. Nodded at Lex, nodded at Clark, nodded a third time for someone else - Enrique, Lex realised - and then he was climbing into the car and driving away.

 

And that was it.

 

That was it.

 

Clark was closer now, his arm brushing against his. They were still in public, even here.

 

"He'll come back." Clark murmured softly. "He'll come visit."

 

Yes. Yes, of course.

 

Enrique was already inside when they turned and walked back to the castle. He was nowhere in sight when Lex closed the door, pushed Clark against it, and kissed him hard.

 

Clark didn't object. Clark didn't say anything, just took it and gave back with equal measure. When Lex eventually pulled back he tasted blood, knowing it had to be his own. Not caring that it was.

 

Clark's hands were holding firm around his sides, fingers contracting occasionally. "I have to go home," Clark whispered and Lex wanted to shout, wanted to *order* him not to leave, "but you have to come to dinner tomorrow. Dad extended the invitation this time which I've decided to take as good news."

 

Either that, Lex mused, or Jonathan Kent really liked tormenting him. "What time?"

 

A nose nuzzled against his neck. "Meet me at the Beanery at five."

 

He had to go nearly twenty-four hours before having this again? Relationships sucked. "Go. Go now, Clark." And he wanted him to *stay*, wanted to be the only one that Clark spent time with and it was scaring the fuck out of him.

 

A last messy kiss before the door opened and Clark was gone.

 

The castle was bigger than ever before so Lex headed for familiar territory: his office. He paused outside when he got there, staring down at the chair someone had moved besides the door. Resting on the seat was a tray holding a glass of milk and a plate of cookies.

 

Enrique was getting the world's biggest fucking raise.

 

Picking up the tray he carried it into his office, and it was as he was placing that on the desk that he noticed something else that was out of place.

 

There was a folder on his desk. One that he definitely hadn't left there himself.

 

Releasing the tray he stepped around to the other side of the desk and picked the folder up. Suddenly unaccountably nervous, he carefully lowered his body into the chair, and flipped open the folder.

 

And knew instantly what it was.

 

It wasn't the one he'd ordered and from the looks of things it was probably a great deal more comprehensive, but...it was a report on the meteor rocks.

 

The ones that made Clark sick.

 

TBC

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