This AWESOME cover was made by farferello. Thank you so, so much!

Tic Tac Toe

by Suz suzvoy@tesco.net

 

Disclaimer - WB and DC own them. Hahaha.

 

So, another one. Yup, we needed another one like a hole in the head, but here it is anyway. Feedback would kick ass!

 

This is set in season three, after Phoenix but definitely before Shattered. If I need to get more specific about when it's set later, I will *g*. Hey, it's a WiP. I get to do that ;D

 

Rated R. Oh, and Clex! Of course. Many thanks to fromward for listening to me ramble.

 

*

 

Biology, Clark decided, was the devil's own handiwork. The rest of his schoolwork he had little or no problem with - most of the time it wasn't particularly challenging, even easy. But there was something about biology that he just couldn't *get*.

 

It should have been easy. The simple memorising of facts like most of his other subjects, yet when it came to understanding the theory of how it all connected together and worked, Clark was completely lost.

 

Maybe it was because he was an alien. Maybe, despite the physical similarities, his brain was hardwired to only understand his own biology, and not that of a human's (though Clark doubted the old "But I'm a alien!" defence would go down well if he failed his next test).

 

Frustrated, he turned back to the beginning of the latest chapter in his textbook and started reading over it again. What the heck was he going to use his knowledge of biology for anyway? It wasn't like he was planning a career that involved any kind of science.

 

Of course, at the moment he wasn't planning any kind of a career at all. He really had no idea what he wanted to do after he - hopefully, he thought, glaring at the book again - finished school, and then college. Just something...good.

 

Sighing, realising he'd let his thoughts wander yet again, Clark focused back on the book. Deciding that reading aloud might help him take it in, Clark had just begun reciting from the book when he heard a car pull up outside.

 

Bounding up from his seat on the sofa with far too much enthusiasm, Clark looked out from the barn and instantly recognised Lex's car. Grinning, he turned away from the view and started down the stairs. If there was one thing that would be the most welcome distraction from Satan's Own Science, it was Lex. Plus, his best friend seemed to know everything about everything, and while he didn't like Lex *just* for his brain, with barely a hint of the trouble he was having, Clark knew Lex would offer to sit down and explain anything.

 

Not that Clark was purposefully thinking of taking advantage of Lex's generosity. It'd just be really nice if it happened.

 

Besides, he thought, as he strode out of the barn, the biggest thing was seeing Lex at all. They hadn't seen each other for a few days; Clark caught up in biology revision, Lex caught up in...whatever Lex did. Business stuff.

 

The car had already stopped, and as Clark approached the engine switched off and Lex emerged.

 

"Hey, Lex!" Clark greeted, stepping around the front of car as Lex shut the door. "It's good to-" Lex lifted his head, and Clark stopped walking.

 

Lex looked sick. *Lex* looked *sick*. His skin, normally pale at the best of times was so faded Clark swore he could see the veins beneath it with just his normal vision. Cursing under his breath, he was immediately at Lex's side, holding his arm. "God, Lex. What's wrong? Are you okay?" Stupid, stupid question to ask, because he clearly wasn't.

 

Laughing out loud, an action so unusual that it almost made him look insane, Lex stumbled, bracing himself against the car. "I guess you could say I'm...not quite myself." He laughed again.

 

Trying to stop himself from completely freaking out, Clark concentrated on the smell he was picking up. "Are you drunk?"

 

"I had *a* drink," Lex replied haughtily, with all the command of someone who was obviously drunk.

 

"More like *a* bottle of brandy," Clark scoffed, "and then you got in a car and drove here. Are you trying to kill yourself?"

 

"Just the opposite." Pushing away from the car, he lifted his arms above his head. "I'm alive! I'm free!"

 

Oooookay. Clark almost took a step back. "Okay, Lex. I think we should get you inside and sobered up, and then you can tell me about whatever's happened." It was...disconcerting, seeing Lex like this. So unrestrained. It just wasn't *Lex*. Or not the Lex he was used to seeing.

 

Lowering his hands, Lex leant towards Clark. "Why wait to share my good news?" He spoke with an exaggerated whisper. "He's no longer a problem, Clark. He's no longer in the way."

 

Clark had a horrifying suspicion, but asked anyway. "Who's no longer in the way?"

 

"My father." Lex shrugged, as if suddenly uninterested. "He suffered a brain aneurysm two days ago."

 

Oh...oh, *God*. He knew Lex's relationship with his dad was screwed up, but he also knew for a fact that Lex still cared about him. The indifference now would probably come back to haunt him later, but it was probably the only way Lex could deal. "God, Lex, I'm so...is he...?" He couldn't even bring himself to ask, unable to imagine what Lex must be going through.

 

"Might as well be," Lex replied, seeming very, very tired. "It was 'bad', apparently. Although I have to wonder how any kind of aneurysm can be good." The humour was back, definitely feeling forced.

 

"Lex," Clark, desperate to do *something*, began to step towards him.

 

"He's not recovering," Lex stumbled away, all humour gone, turning to brace his weight against the car with his hands. "They're saying he'll never wake up."

 

Clark didn't know what else to do. Lex was still pressing against the car, his head lowered. There was only one thing *to* do.

 

He pulled Lex into a hug.

 

He'd expected Lex to tense up, maybe even pull away. Though he'd personally been on the receiving end of a hug from Lex more than once, Lex generally wasn't a touchy-feely person.

 

Now, however, was apparently one of those times when he was - which made sense when Clark thought about it - and Lex hugged back, eventually so tight Clark suspected it would have actually hurt a human. "I'm sorry," Clark whispered. "I'm so sorry."

 

Lex chuckled once, quietly, into Clark's neck, and then Clark was pulling away and studying his best friend. He still looked like crap, but there were no signs of tears. Clark wouldn't have been surprised if there'd been no tears at all so far.

 

"Come on," Clark said gently, his hand cupping around Lex's elbow to guide him towards the house. "Let's get you some coffee."

 

Lex objected. "I like being drunk."

 

Grief, apparently, only made Lex even more stubborn. "And I like it when my best friend isn't being a complete ass and driving under the influence."

 

Looking incredibly confused by something, Lex stared. "Did you just say 'ass'?"

 

Rolling his eyes at the obvious attempt to change the subject, Clark easily found a response. "Yes, Lex. We've had this conversation before. I *do* do things my parents don't approve of sometimes."

 

Some vague resemblance of a smile spread across Lex's face. "But only when I'm around? Must be my bad influence."

 

"That's gotta be it," Clark agreed, eager to get Lex moving. Deciding on the fastest way to make that happen, he grabbed on to Lex's upper arm and pulled him towards the house. "Come on. We'll go get a drink, and then we can talk all about how you've corrupted me." Anything to make Lex feel better.

 

"All right," Lex said compliantly, which was a little odd but Clark wasn't about to question his good fortune.

 

Before long they made it into the kitchen, and after ensuring that Lex was sitting down and not about to bolt, Clark started working on the coffee. As he got the pot brewing and grabbed mugs out of the cupboard he kept up a constant stream of conversation; everything from his school work to the Sharks' latest game.

 

When he eventually placed Lex's coffee on the table, Lex wrapped both hands around the mug and looked up at him.

 

"I didn't realise you were such a babbler, Clark."

 

Instantly feeling like an idiot, Clark fell into the chair opposite Lex's and eyed his own drink of milk. "Sorry, I...I don't know what to say and then of course I'm saying too much so-"

 

"Clark," Lex interrupted warmly, and how could he still sound like that after what he'd been through? Mimicking Lex's own strength, Clark lifted his head.

 

"Just be yourself," Lex continued.

 

Wrinkling his nose, Clark decided on the honest route. "'Myself' doesn't have a clue what to say and will probably just sit here in silence." Not especially helpful during something like this.

 

Lex turned the mug in his hands. "Yes, but you *will* sit here with me regardless, even if you do feel uncomfortable. That means a lot. You're my only real friend, Clark. I have told you that before, haven't I?"

 

Somewhat relieved - yet also vaguely guilty that he could be feeling any relief at the moment - Clark snorted. "Only every other week." He thought about taking it back as soon as he said it, but judging by Lex's behaviour their 'normal' interaction was probably what was called for. "So...do you wanna talk about it? Or just sit here? Watch a movie? Thrash me at chess?"

 

Sipping at his coffee for a few moments, Lex slowly looked around the kitchen. "Where are your parents?" he asked, as if only just realising they were alone.

 

"In town," Clark said. "They needed to get a few things from the store."

 

"I see," Lex replied, sipping at his coffee again before focusing his attention on top of the table. "I was there when it happened." Clark didn't need to ask what. "We were in Metropolis for business. We were on our way to the meeting when he just...went down." His mug lowered down to the table; turning in his hands again. "There was no warning. Nothing."

 

Maybe picking up some of the instincts from his mom, Clark reached out and placed a hand on top of Lex's.

 

Lex didn't look up. "We got him straight to the hospital, of course. But apparently even if he'd actually been in the hospital already when it happened, they wouldn't have been able to do much. Sometimes the faster you get them there the more likely it is they'll survive or wake up or..." He paused. "But not him. Not him."

 

Clark felt the back of his throat starting to burn, and his hand tightened over Lex's. "Lex...I know it may not seem like much, but if there's anything, absolutely anything I can do to help, just let me know, okay? Whether it's punching obnoxious reporters in the face or keeping you company when you need it."

 

Snickering slightly, Lex finally lifted his gaze up to meet Clark's. "My hero."

 

"Damn straight," Clark nodded.

 

Lex's gaze lowered again, and they fell into a silence that wasn't too strained.

 

Thinking over his own words, Clark spoke again. "Speaking of reporters, I'm surprised I haven't seen anything in the news yet."

 

"That's our doing." Sipping at his drink again, Lex looked back up. "The CEO of the company you invested in suddenly falling ill doesn't build consumer or shareholder confidence. When the story breaks - which it will do, tomorrow - we'll have a reassuring speech ready to go."

 

Understanding, Clark nodded. That made sense. Although... "I thought you didn't have much to do with LuthorCorp anymore." Clark had been ridiculously pleased to slowly see the occasional LuthorCorp signs around town change to LexCorp ones.

 

"Funny you should say that," Lex didn't sound amused, "because out of all of it I think this is the thing I'm finding it hardest to deal with."

 

Concerned, Clark leant further over the table. "What is it?"

 

"My father, apparently, made certain arrangements in case something like this should ever happen to him. Everything was transferred into my name."

 

Clark stared, trying to comprehend. "*Everything*?"

 

Meeting Clark's gaze, Lex nodded and spoke clearly.

 

"LuthorCorp belongs to me."

 

*

 

In retrospect, Clark's immediate response probably hadn't been very helpful.

 

"*What*?!"

 

But in his defence, he doubted that anyone could have predicted what Lex was going to say. It was just so...so...un-Lionel. Not the planning ahead part, that was very Lionel, in fact very Luthor in general.

 

It was the 'leaving everything to Lex' part. Clark had almost always tried to think the best about everyone, but he'd pretty much given up on Lionel by now. He'd half expected that Lionel would've left everything to Lucas, just to spite his oldest son.

 

Could he have been wrong about him all this time? After all the things he'd done to Lex? It didn't seem possible, but then Clark knew better than anyone that you couldn't really judge someone by appearances.

 

"Well," Clark continued. "That's...good?"

 

"I really don't know," Lex shrugged wryly. "Part of me thinks he left it all to me just so I'd crack under the pressure."

 

Now *that* sounded like Lionel. Maybe this did make a weird kind of sense. "That's not gonna happen."

 

"No," Lex nodded firmly. "It's not. Though it will take some...getting used to. LuthorCorp is quite a bit larger than LexCorp. God, LexCorp isn't even turning a profit yet."

 

Clark could only imagine. LuthorCorp had been running for decades; in comparison LexCorp had barely even started. "How much does LuthorCorp make?"

 

"The last financial year?" Lex asked, though it was obviously rhetorical. "$1.3 billion."

 

Unfortunate timing meant Clark ended up choking on his drink, and even as he gasped for breath he couldn't help but notice that Lex looked pleased with himself. "That's...a lot."

 

Agreeing, Lex's amusement at Clark's reaction faded as his gaze fell to the table again. "I don't think this coffee's doing much. You sure it isn't decaf?"

 

"I'm sure," Clark insisted, but couldn't help but notice that even with the coffee Lex looked exhausted. "You wanna lie down, or something?"

 

The idea was obviously struck a chord with Lex, but he tried to play it down. "I don't want to be an inconvenience-"

 

"Please," Clark interrupted, standing up and moving to stand next to him. "You've been an inconvenience in the butt ever since we met. And I wouldn't have it any other way. Come on."

 

Definitely pleased this time, Lex followed Clark into the living room.

 

"Make yourself at home," Clark said, gesturing towards the sofa, as he grabbed the blanket Mom always had folded over the back of her chair. When he turned back around Lex was sitting on the sofa, slowly pulling at his shoes. "I'll take care of those. Lay down."

 

Sighing, Lex didn't argue though, shrugging off his jacket and passing it to Clark before stretching out on the sofa.

 

Folding the jacket carefully, Clark placed it on Mom's chair and then pulled the blanket over Lex. He'd been fussing with it for a few moments when he realised Lex was smiling at him. "What?"

 

"I can just imagine what you'll be like when you have children. Are you planning on reading me a story after you finish tucking me in?"

 

Somewhat horrified to realise that was exactly what he'd been doing, Clark flushed and yanked his hands away. "Hey, I'm just trying to help a friend." Standing to his full height, he moved to the end of the sofa and carefully pulled Lex's shoes from his feet, placing them on the floor.

 

"Sorry," Lex murmured, and Clark felt like crap again.

 

Jesus, Lex's dad in was hospital, probably never to wake up again. It was pointless getting crabby with him at the moment. "No, I'm the one who's sorry. I'm an insensitive jerk."

 

Lex snorted, closing his eyes. "And I'm Jonathan Kent."

 

Okay, that'd just be disturbing. "Get some rest," he ordered. Sitting in a chair on the other side of the room, Clark watched Lex for a while and decided his own behaviour couldn't be considered stalking. Just...simple observation. He was worried about Lex, that was all. Wanted to stay nearby in case Lex needed anything - food, drink, to whip his butt at poker - because now he was pretty much out of things he could actively do.

 

And then Lex opened his eyes.

 

"Clark, my dad's in hospital." He paused, licking his lips. "He's never coming out again."

 

Clark wanted to tell him it wasn't true, that everything was going to be okay, but Lionel Luthor would have had the best doctors in the country - maybe the world - working over him. They'd know better than anyone else what his chances were.

 

Before even realising that he was intending to move Clark already had, pausing by the sofa and encouraging Lex to sit up. By the time they'd stopped moving, Clark was sitting at one end of the sofa, and Lex was still stretched out - only now, his head was on Clark's lap.

 

And while it didn't feel good - it couldn't, not now - it at least made Clark feel useful. That he could do this, be here for Lex. That Lex could even be like this in front of him, for once not worried about someone seeing; not worried about being perceived as weak.

 

Because the only person who'd ever made Lex feel weak was gone.

 

Clark sighed, one hand resting on Lex's nearest shoulder as Clark's conscience battled it out with his dislike of Lionel. He wasn't *glad* Lionel was effectively dead, but the thought of never seeing him belittle Lex again was *really* nice. Without his father's influence and the negativity between them, maybe Lex could truly embrace the idea of his own destiny instead if simply trying to avoid the one he was sure his father had planned out for him.

 

Maybe, eventually, Lex would be happy.

 

According to the clock on the VCR, nearly forty-five minutes had passed when Clark heard the truck pull up outside. Lex's breathing had long since evened out, and though the idea of his dad seeing them like this wasn't particularly nice, Clark wasn't moving.

 

He heard footsteps on the porch outside, and then the sound of the screen door snapping shut. They would have already seen Lex's car parked outside.

 

"Clark!"

 

Wincing at the volume of Dad's voice, Clark glanced down but saw that Lex hadn't moved, still breathing smoothly.

 

"In here, Dad," Clark said quietly, hoping it was loud enough. Apparently it was; a few moments later Dad was in the living room, next to the sofa. As he stared at them his expression was...interesting.

 

"What's going on?" He asked suspiciously.

 

Clark was surprised. Given Dad's hatred of the Luthor's he'd expected the reaction to be much more...extreme. "His dad's in the hospital. Brain aneurysm. They're saying he won't recover."

 

Mom had joined them in the living room just as Clark had started speaking, and now her mouth opened in shock and sympathy as she looked down at Lex. "Oh, how terrible." Neither one of them were going to miss Lionel Luthor, but Mom - maybe just because she *was* a mom - empathised easily.

 

Dad's frown had smoothed out a little, and he even looked...guilty? "I'm sorry to hear that, Clark. Lionel and I may not have liked each other," boy, was that an understatement, "but...to be honest I was almost expecting him to live forever."

 

Smiling softly, Clark looked down at Lex's sleeping form. He knew exactly what Dad meant. It didn't seem possible that Lionel Luthor would let something as 'insignificant' as death stop him.

 

"I'm gonna clear out the truck," Dad said suddenly, looking decidedly uncomfortable before walking out to leave the rest of them behind.

 

Bending down by the sofa, Mom placed her hand on Clark's shoulder. "Clark, when he wakes up you let him know that if there's anything we can do..."

 

Relieved that Mom was being so *Mom*, Clark nodded. "Thanks, Mom. And..." It was the perfect time to ask. "...is it okay if he stays here tonight? He doesn't have anyone now, and I really don't think he should be alone."

 

Mom didn't even hesitate. "Of course, honey. He can stay for as long as he wants." Her hand moved up from his shoulder to ruffle his hair. "I'm going to go help your father, okay?"

 

"Okay," Clark said, trying to hide his discomfort at the hair thing. It still made him feel like a kid when she did that, even now.

 

As he sat quietly again, he realised what he'd said to Mom had been true – Lex was alone. The only surviving relative Clark knew about was Lucas, and that relationship was screwed up at best and homicidal at worst.

 

Maybe with Lionel out of the way Lex and Lucas would grow closer, but all Clark could really thing was that Lucas would probably just try and get his hands on various LuthorCorp assets.

 

By Lex's own admission Clark was his only 'real' friend, and though it was kinda daunting thinking that he was now the only one close to Lex, in some ways Clark found himself looking forward to it.

 

Looking after Lex was his responsibility now.

 

"Concern is a good look for you."

 

Surprised, Clark quickly looked down at the owner of the voice. "I thought you were sleeping."

 

"I did, for a while. And now I'm not." Obviously hearing the sound of the screen door opening and closing, Lex frowned. "Your parents are back?" At Clark's nod, he rolled his eyes. "I can imagine how thrilled your father was."

 

"He was fine, Lex. He's a good guy." He really had to stop underestimating his own father. "Oh, and by the way, you're staying here tonight."

 

Lex's eyebrows went up. "I am?"

 

"Yup." Clark nodded. "Mom insisted." It wasn't a lie really. Just a small invisible half-truth.

 

"Was this before or after some of your porcine friends flew over the farm?"

 

Or maybe not so invisible. "We don't have any pigs around here, Lex."

 

"Semantics," he argued.

 

Pleased though he was that Lex seemed more his old self, Clark had to get his point across. "You're staying," he insisted. "At least tonight."

 

Lex didn't argue, but he did seem very amused. "You're getting all Alpha Male on me, Clark. This could be seriously wounding my pride."

 

Uh huh. "You can take it." There was no way Lex was being serious.

 

About to respond, Lex's mouth suddenly snapped shut when Mom walked into the living room.

 

"I thought I heard voices in here," she greeted. "Hi, Lex. I'm so sorry to hear about your father. He's such a...colourful character."

 

Well that was one way of putting it.

 

Clark didn't know how he managed it, but even though he was still sprawled across Clark's lap Lex sounded like an Imperial ruler.

 

"Thank you, Mar...Mrs Kent." His mouth tightened. "I appreciate your sensitivity."

 

Frowning at Lex's choice of words, Clark shrugged at his Mom.

 

"Well, I'm sure that Clark has already told you." Oops. "But if there's anything Jonathan and I can do, just let us know."

 

A tight and entirely fake smile appeared on Lex's lips. "You're too generous."

 

Looking confused, Mom mumbled something about having work to do and left the room again. When she was gone, Clark looked back down at him. Lex was grieving. Pretty much anything could be expected. Including the fact that he'd been awake for a while now, and still hadn't pulled away.

 

Not that Clark was objecting.

 

"So, do you wanna do something?" He may have been babbling again. "The TV's right there, or I have a pack of cards somewhere or-"

 

"Clark."

 

Okay, shutting up was good. "Yeah, Lex?"

 

"Can we just...stay here for a while?" Lex had turned his head so he was looking away and Clark had never, in his entire life, seen Lex so vulnerable.

 

His hand tightened on Lex's shoulder, and it was only by the greatest use of self restraint that he didn't reach out to touch Lex's head.

 

"Sure. We can stay here as long as you want."

 

*

 

It was the sound of the screen door snapping shut followed by a curse that finally made Clark sit up. He'd been sleeping fitfully as it was; worried about Lex, how to make things better.

 

Pushing the blanket aside, Clark blinked into the semi-darkeness. The only source of light was the moon but he had excellent eyesight, and even if he didn't he'd still know exactly who'd gone outside. Yawning, rubbing a hand absently through his hair, Clark made his way towards the door.

 

Lex turned to face him the moment the door creaked open but didn't speak until Clark had closed it quietly.

 

"Sorry," Lex murmured. "Didn't mean to wake you."

 

Clark shrugged, joining him by the wooden railing around the edge of the porch. "I couldn't really sleep anyway."

 

"Me neither."

 

Nodding then, from both of them, as they lapsed into silence.

 

It could have been five, maybe ten minutes before Lex spoke again. "There's something magical about seeing the world like this, don't you think? Makes it seem like anything is possible."

 

Looking up into the night sky, Clark mentally catalogued the stars he knew by name. "I think anything *is* possible for you, Lex."

 

Apparently finding that amusing, Lex chuckled softly. "I think I should be saying that to you, Clark. The saviour of Smallville. How many lives have you saved now?"

 

Flushing red, Clark suddenly found the ground much more interesting than the sky. "I haven't saved *that* many. It's not like I keep count."

 

"Someone ought to," Lex replied. "You shouldn't be embarrassed by your accomplishments, Clark. You should be proud of them."

 

Bright red now, absolutely. "I can't feel proud about saving someone's life. It's just not...right."

 

As if understanding, Lex nodded. "Of course. Otherwise you wouldn't be Clark Kent. And we can't have that, can we?"

 

Reassured by the teasing, Clark lifted his head. "Yup. This is the way I am. Take it or leave it."

 

Lex looked at him oddly as if about to say something, when he quickly turned away. "It's colder than I thought," he declared, folding his arms across his chest.

 

Deciding not to lie and say he was also feeling the cold, Clark gestured back towards the house. "I could go get you a jacket." After insisting earlier that Lex sleep in his bed, Clark had given him clothes to sleep in - jogging bottoms and a grey shirt. They were baggy on him, but apparently didn't provide enough protection when he wasn't under the covers.

 

Shaking his head, Lex smirked briefly. "Luthor's never back down."

 

Mentioning the Luthor name ruined whatever good mood they'd been sharing. Lex looked away, no doubt thinking of his father.

 

Clark cleared his throat. "So you're really gonna run LuthorCorp, huh? I mean I guess you could sell it if you wanted to, or let someone else run it..."

 

"I could," Lex agreed, "but it wouldn't feel right, letting someone else take over. My father and I may have had a troubled relationship...but he was still my dad, you know?"

 

Clark understood. And decided not to point out that Lex was referring to his dad in the past tense. "Yeah."

 

Turning towards Clark, leaning the side of his body against the railing, Lex made an obvious point of meeting his gaze. "Purely from a business point of view, it makes sense for me to move back to Metropolis."

 

And suddenly Clark was feeling the cold. "Metropolis?"

 

"LuthorCorp headquarters is there, and quite frankly it'll be easier to maintain contacts, run the business..."

 

"You're leaving?" Clark couldn't get over it. Lex *leaving*? Lex couldn't leave. Lex was always supposed to be there.

 

"Clark, realistically I could have left a long time ago."

 

Lex had been *thinking* of leaving? For a long time?

 

"It won't change anything," Lex continued. "Our friendship. We'll stay in contact and I'll come out and see you as often as I can. Maybe you'll even be able to make it into the city sometimes."

 

*Leaving*? "Then why did you stay? If you could have left before, why did you stay?"

 

His voice was very, very quiet when he responded. "I've already told you, Clark. You're my only real friend."

 

Lex had stayed for *him*? Clark had never felt more important, never felt so *needed*. Spurred into motion, he started down the steps from the porch, then remembered he'd actually need to tell Lex what he wanted to do. Lex was leaving, Lex was going away, and he was not going away with a gloomy memory of their talk on the porch as one of his last memories in Smallville. "Come on," Clark said, turning on the steps to look up at Lex. "We're going to the barn. I'm gonna show you my favourite constellations."

 

With his hand wrapped around the post at one side of the steps, Lex paused. "Clark, I'm not wearing anything on my feet."

 

Clark smirked. "So? I thought Luthor's never backed down?"

 

"It's *cold* out there," Lex protested.

 

Holding out his hand, Clark didn't back down either. "I'll keep you warm. Promise." He took in his friends' expression - vague smile, lowered eyelashes - and he knew, then, that Lex's objections had been nothing but teasing. "Come on. You know you wanna."

 

More movement, and then Lex's hand was slipping into his and they were running barefoot into the night.

 

*

 

The utter calm and sense of peace he felt from waking up with Lex was ruined by one thing:

 

Clark was hard.

 

Muttering under his breath, he tried to move his groin away without waking Lex but it wasn't easy. At some point last night they'd sat down on the sofa in the barn - just to rest for a while - and now Clark was lying on his back with Lex sprawled across him, a blanket covering them. Clark couldn't remember either him or Lex pulling it on top of them, but prayed that one of them had. He didn't want to think that Mom had put it there.

 

He *really* didn't want to think that Dad had put it there.

 

Shifting as much as he could, Clark mentally cursed his erection. It wasn't the first time this had happened in the morning - not by a long shot. He knew it happened for human males, and apparently for kryptonian males, too. It was just really *bad* timing.

 

Not only was he lying there with his *best friend*, but said friend was mourning his father. Clark really thought his body should have known better.

 

If he'd been alone Clark would've taken care of it the way he usually did, but with Lex being there it just wasn't an option. So, deciding on the power of mind over matter, Clark thought of every unappealing thing he could - cold showers, the smell of manure, the dead dog he'd found on the side of the road a few weeks ago.

 

Feeling it start to work after a while, Clark sighed in relief. There were just some things that even close friends shouldn't have to share.

 

And then Lex moved in his sleep, pressing his face further towards Clark's neck and breathing against his skin.

 

Clark was hard again.

 

He was saved by the sound of someone walking up the stairs to the fortress.

 

"Clark?"

 

Mom. Mom was good. It'd still be a little embarrassing being seen with Lex like this, but given the options Mom finding them was definitely the preference.

 

And at least Lex was hiding his dick.

 

Calling his name again, she soon stepped up into view, pausing for a moment when she saw them before moving all the way up.

 

"He couldn't sleep last night," Clark said quietly, by way of explanation. "We came out to look at the stars and...well, I guess we fell asleep."

 

"So it would seem," Mom smiled indulgently. "You're a good friend, Clark, though you'll have to start getting ready for school soon."

 

"Sure, Mom." He agreed, feeling Lex start to stir; also feeling relieved when Mom nodded and left the barn.

 

Lifting his head from Clark's neck, Lex blinked slowly several times. "Well," he said. "This isn't how I usually wake up."

 

That couldn't be disappointment Clark heard. "Hey, it's a first for me, too," He replied too cheerfully, before sucking his stomach in as if somehow that'd make his hard-on disappear.

 

Yawning, Lex began to stretch...

 

...and then froze.

 

"Oh."

 

Crap. "I'm seventeen," Clark defended heavily, blushing furiously.

 

Pushing himself up a little, supporting his weight on the back of the sofa with his right hand, Lex smiled down at him. "No need to be embarrassed, Clark. I was your age once, you know."

 

Clark rolled his eyes, still humiliated "You make it sound like you're a hundred."

 

"Not quite," Lex pressed his lips together with humour. "Anyway, what time is it?"

 

"Not sure," Clark lifted up his right arm to show the lack of a watch. "But apparently I don't have very long before school so-"

 

"Shit!" Lex suddenly exclaimed, moving to scramble off of Clark. "I have to be in Metropolis when the news breaks. Can't believe I let myself just lie out here..." He was sliding over Clark now, *sliding over him*, and when he moved over a certain part Clark jerked.

 

Jesus!

 

Lex froze again. "Shit. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

 

*Hell* no. "No." Clark kept very very still.

 

"You're sure?" Lex's hand reached down to touch his arm.

 

Clark nearly whined. "Lex. I'm fine. *Really*." And if Lex didn't move soon, he was going to find out just how *fine* Clark was.

 

"Good," He said, and then Lex was rolling off completely and Clark just lay there, trying not to think that he'd been getting off on Lex rubbing against him.

 

Padding away carefully - he'd been paranoid last night about splinters - Lex paused at the top of the steps and turned back. "You were right, Clark."

 

Peering along and over the end of the sofa, Clark frowned. "I was?"

 

"You did keep me warm." He tipped his head to one side, smiled gently, and then was gone.

 

*

 

By the time Clark made it into the house, Lex was already dressed and eating breakfast. Something told him Lex would have skipped eating entirely if it hadn't been for Mom's presence. It was just as well she was there. Though definitely looking better than yesterday, Lex still looked decidedly crappy. The grief he was trying not to show had obviously taken a physical toll.

 

Which may have been why Clark sat next to Lex. *Right* next to Lex. So their shoulders were brushing together.

 

Lex didn't say a word, simply eating his bacon and eggs. Mom lifted her eyebrows but kept quiet. Dad attacked his breakfast with the kind of ferocity usually reserved for tractor engines that weren't co-operating.

 

Clark was...figuring stuff out. And beginning to suspect he was the last one who had.

 

When they walked out of the house a while later - Clark still in the clothes he'd slept in - it felt like the simplest thing in the world to pull Lex into another hug. "You call me if you need anything, okay? *Anything*."

 

"I haven't left yet, Clark," Lex pointed out wryly, pulling back until Clark could see his face, but still holding on.

 

"I know." Rationally, he did. Rationally, he knew that Lex hadn't even moved out yet. But most of Clark's life wasn't rational at all. "Just feels like..." Goodbye. "...I don't know."

 

"I'm not going to disappear without telling you, all right?"

 

Feeling like an idiot again, Clark glanced away. "Sorry."

 

"What for?" Lex asked.

 

"Because I'm standing here feeling sorry for myself, when what you're going through is so much more important."

 

Tipping his head to one side again (Clark liked that move), Lex regarded him seriously. "Clark, you like me so much that you don't want me to leave. I think, especially now, knowing someone cares about me that much is just what I need. How could I possible be offended by that? Besides," a faint smile, one that Clark was learning was tantamount to a huge grin, "you've helped so many people. You should be selfish once in while."

 

Clark decided that Lex was very wise, and his advice without fault.

 

So he kissed him.

 

It was brief, barely there, but it definitely *was* there.

 

Lex looked stunned.

 

Clark was not going to apologise. Not about that. No matter how much it felt like he had a bunch of golf balls in his mouth, considering how difficult it was now to speak. "I...umm...uhh, that felt like the thing to do." There. That hadn't been so bad.

 

Lex still looked stunned. "I'm about to go to Metropolis to take control of my father's company."

 

Clark nodded. "I know."

 

"I'm leaving Smallville soon."

 

Clark sighed. "I know."

 

"And knowing our luck, if we do that again your father will look out the window and promptly find a new head to mount on the wall."

 

"I..." Clark frowned, hands brushing along Lex's arms. "Dad doesn't actually hunt, you know."

 

"He'll make an exception." Shaking his head as if to clear it, Lex licked his lips. "Clark, you have really *bad* timing."

 

He was beginning to realise that himself. "Yeah."

 

More tilting, more staring, and a whispered "You're worth it."

 

"Lex?"

 

"Clark?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Kiss me again."

 

So he did.

 

*

 

It was at lunch later that day that Chloe rushed up to the table Clark and Pete were sitting at.

 

"Oh, my God! Did you guys hear about Lionel Luthor?"

 

Pete frowned with distaste at the name while Clark pretended to be invisible. "No, what is it this time? Been experimenting on puppies?"

 

Chloe rolled her eyes, moving to sit next to him. "No, you doofus. He's in a coma."

 

Actually looking startled - and maybe just vaguely bad about his attitude - Pete shook his head. "Didn't know. What happened?"

 

"Brain aneurysm or something," she replied, casting a look towards Clark who was busy trying to hide behind his fries. He wasn't entirely sure he was succeeding. "You've been mysteriously quiet, Clark. Nothing to say on the subject?" Her tone clearly implied that she knew he was hiding *something*.

 

Resigning himself to telling the truth - and he could now that the news was out anyway - Clark spoke. "I kinda already knew about it."

 

"I knew it!" Chloe exclaimed. "And you didn't tell us."

 

"Lex asked me not to say anything." Right after he'd shown Clark some *wonderful* things he could do with his mouth. But Chloe didn't need to know that part. "It's his dad, Chloe. Not just a story."

 

Clearly offended, Chloe glared at him. "Gee. Thanks, Clark. I hadn't even *considered* that." She snorted. "Glad to see just how much you respect me."

 

He'd done it again. Somehow, completely without meaning to, he'd pissed someone off. "I didn't mean..."

 

"Sure you did," she retorted, not quite as angry. "But I get it. You've always been overly protective of your boyfriend."

 

Clark decided *everyone* was lucky that he hadn't been holding the ketchup just then. "Lex is *not* my boyfriend!"

 

Shit. Judging by the silence and the looks he was now receiving from the entire lunchroom, that'd been loud. He hunkered down further into his seat. "We're just friends," he insisted. Not that he was embarrassed at the idea (no. Really really *not* embarrassed); he was just well aware that they didn't need this becoming public.

 

Besides, it wasn't like there was *that* much to tell.

 

Yet.

 

Pete was staring at him like he was seeing proof of his alien-ness for the first time.

 

Chloe just grinned. "Relax, Clark. I know you guys are just friends. And even if you weren't, I'd never actually write anything about it." She met his gaze deliberately. "You do know that, right?"

 

It occurred to Clark that, sometimes, he really sucked as a friend. "Want me to do all your homework next week?"

 

He knew she wasn't going to say yes, but she responded anyway. "Sure you'll have time? I know hanging out with Lex keeps you busy."

 

"Actually, Lex has headed back to Metropolis so..." Her words sank it. Clark glared. Pete snickered. "You're not funny."

 

"Sure I am," she declared, swiping a few fries from his plate. "And *you* are so easy. Right, Pete?"

 

Pete, apparently, could only agree and teased the hell out of Clark. But this was Pete. And though he rarely said anything about it, Clark knew he'd had a thing for Chloe ever since she'd arrived in Smallville.

 

"Sure, laugh it up," Clark said, sliding his tray out of Chloe's reach. "Just don't be surprised when rumours about the two of you start turning up."

 

She gaped at him. "Clark Kent, *you* are leaning to fight dirty!" She paused. "I like it. Come on, Pete," she turned her attention to their friend and began standing up. "Let's go give them something to talk about."

 

She was teasing. She had to be teasing.

 

Probably.

 

Nonetheless, Pete didn't need to be told twice. Hopping up from his seat, he flashed a pleased smile at Clark. "See ya, man."

 

They headed off, brushing by the side of the table, and then Chloe was suddenly back, speaking close to his ear. "Oh, and Clark?"

 

He turned to look at her, his face a question.

 

She grinned. "Fighting dirty? *Definitely* the Luthor influence."

 

Clark didn't even deny it.

 

*

 

Reaching for an apple just as the phone rang, Clark yelled, "I'll get it!" as he grabbed the fruit and leapt heroically towards the phone.

 

Which was all of three feet away.

 

Still, there was a chance (please please please) that it could be Lex. So, picking up the phone and trying to ignore the look Mom was giving him - apparently he'd forgotten that shouting wasn't necessary, as she was chopping something up on the cutting board - Clark spoke as normally as possible. "Kent residence."

 

"It's not because you feel sorry for me, is it?"

 

Clark's happiness at hearing Lex's voice was marred by the general sense of confusion. "Sorry?"

 

"What happened this morning. It's not because you feel sorry for me. Right?" He paused as Clark tried to take in the sheer insanity of the idea. "Please?"

 

"Of course that's not why I..." Oh. Mom was in the room. "...did that." He rubbed the apple over his shirt, shining it.

 

Lex's voice felt warm against his ear, impossible but true. "Parents around, huh?"

 

"Yeah." Clark managed to hold back a sigh.

 

"Maybe you're not the only one with bad timing."

 

Smiling, Clark leant back against the wall. "I think we can say for sure that's absolutely true."

 

"Although, you know..." Lex pondered. "This could be kind of interesting."

 

"How's that?" Clark asked, finally taking a bite out of his apple and chewing enthusiastically.

 

"Well, someone's right there. In the room with you, probably. So if I said something about how much I enjoyed kissing you, you wouldn't be able to react."

 

If Clark couldn't breathe, it was only because a piece of apple was temporarily blocking his windpipe. He coughed, glancing towards Mom. "I guess that's true," he said carefully, pleased when she didn't look up from what she was doing.

 

"Or if I described in detail the many and various dreams I've had about you."

 

Okay, now it had absolutely nothing to do with the apple. In fact he was rapidly forgetting that the apple had ever existed. "I'm glad your meetings have gone so well." And really, he was quite proud of himself for still being able to talk.

 

"There's this one in particular I've always appreciated," Lex continued, and had it only been this morning that they'd kissed for the first time? Lex didn't waste any time, although Clark wasn't complaining. It seemed very Lex-like, or actually very Luthor-like in general. When they went after something they didn't hold back.

 

Clark *really* wasn't complaining. "Yeah?"

 

"Normally I'd be ashamed of myself for my own lack of imagination, but it more than makes up for it."

 

Clark swallowed heavily. "What is it?"

 

"You. Working on the farm. It's something you do every day, Clark, but you have no idea how hot you make it look. I swear, they'd just need to stick you on television and this country would have no shortage of people volunteering to run a farm."

 

Blushing right now would be a really bad idea, so Clark tried to turn his face away with as much subtlety as he could muster. "Can't be easy trying to get a handle on things." And oh, that was a bad choice of words.

 

Lex chuckled. "Interesting you should use that term, Clark. That's what I'm doing right now."

 

Oh.

 

Oh!

 

Brain freeze.

 

He'd already been halfway there but he was suddenly, achingly, hard. And his mom was right *there*. How he managed not to squeak, Clark had no idea. "You are?"

 

A heavy sigh. "Bad day, Clark. Really bad day."

 

Well, that wouldn't do at all. Life had already been bad enough lately; Clark would have to make sure Lex's day definitely ended on a positive note. "Yeah, life can be that way sometimes." Thanking God for cordless phones, Clark casually strolled out of the room and climbed the stairs, trying to send out psychic vibes that Mom just *stay downstairs*.

 

"Clark, are you going up to your room?"

 

He shivered. "Maybe." And then he was in his room, closing the door and lobbing the half-eaten, half-forgotten apple into his bin. All pretense was suddenly gone. "*God*, yes."

 

"Do it."

 

Clark didn't even need to ask what. Keeping the phone in place between his chin and his shoulder, he fell to his knees, upzipped his pants, and pulled his cock out. It should have seemed ridiculous that they were *here*, at this point already, but as Clark teased the end of his cock with his thumb to the sound of Lex's breath, nothing had ever seemed more perfect.

 

He wasn't going to last long; he wasn't going to last long at *all* but Clark was perfectly okay with that. Fucking fantastic in fact, moaning quietly as he moved his hand, doing what got him off fastest, and with Lex's voice in his ear it was even faster and then he was coming, groaning long and hard as pleasure exploded through his body.

 

When he was coherent again he had fallen forward, the hand not still holding onto his cock bracing his weight on the floor. The phone had fallen too, and as he settled back on his knees, he picked it up. There was only one thing to say.

 

"Wow."

 

The amusement in the response was obvious. "Indeed."

 

"Did you, uh...?"

 

"Trust me, Clark, I did."

 

Mindlessly searching for tissues, Clark frowned. "I, uh, didn't really hear anything." Although he *had* dropped the phone...

 

"Years of secret assignations led to a certain...requirement, during sex."

 

Clark got it. "You learnt to be quiet? That's..." Crappy? "...actually, that doesn't sound like a lot of fun."

 

"Believe me, I just had a *lot* of fun. Can't remember the last time I had so much, in fact."

 

Reassured, Clark moved until he was leaning against the side of the bed. He felt decidedly lethargic. "Lex?"

 

"Hmm?"

 

Nervous, he licked his lips. He wasn't going to back down. The Luthor influence, after all. "Later on...when we do more than this..."

 

Lex's voice was heavy. "Yes?"

 

Closing his eyes, he said it. "I'm going to make you come so hard you'll scream."

 

And promptly hung up.

 

*

 

Life was going pretty damn well for Clark Kent. True, Lex had been gone for over two weeks now, but he was due to come back Friday night and Clark couldn't *wait*.

 

Their 'relationship' had been nothing but phone calls since Lex had gone to Metropolis. At first they'd consisted almost entirely of phone sex (he still couldn't believe he was even thinking that), but Clark had quickly developed a strong paranoia that his parents were becoming suspicious, so they'd regretfully toned it down.

 

Still, it was always fun talking to Lex about just about anything - and he'd known far more about biology than even Clark had imagined. Clark wouldn't have been surprised if Lex had had someone feeding him the information, but he wasn't about to ask. There was something...nice, thinking that Lex might go to those lengths just to impress him.

 

*Him*.

 

Mom and Dad didn't comment on his more-cheerful-than-usual demeanour, though they both knew about the daily phone calls from Lex. Occasionally he'd catch Mom studying him with this Look, and Dad started frowning whenever the phone rang no matter who eventually turned out to be calling, but that was pretty much the only way things changed at home.

 

And then there was Chloe. Chloe didn't seem to have missed much of anything since Clark's return from his three months in Metropolis, and lately every time he turned around she was busy examining him like he was on a slide under a microscope.

 

Clark made a point of smiling widely whenever he caught her looking - it almost always made her look away.

 

It eventually came to a head in the Talon on the Tuesday evening after school. Clark, Chloe and Pete sat around one of the tables, half-heartedly attempting homework. Lana stopped by for a quick chat every few minutes, and whenever she did Clark was surprised to still feel the warmth he'd always felt in her presence.

 

Considering what was happening between him and Lex, he thought whatever he'd felt for Lana was gone. But it wasn't, he realised, and it was so completely different to what he felt for Lex that maybe it'd never been what he'd always thought it was.

 

He didn't know if he was in love with Lex or not, but it was definitely more powerful, more...potent, than anything he'd ever felt for anyone else.

 

It definitely wasn't new, either. This thing, whatever it was, had been building for a while - maybe the last two years - and it was only lately he was realising it was more than that 'friendship of destiny' Lex had always been talking about.

 

He honestly could imagine himself, even at seventeen, spending the rest of his life with Lex and only *Lex*. It was exciting and terrifying, being so *sure* about the feeling but not entirely comprehending what it could mean.

 

Deep in thought about Lex, love, and how he couldn't wait to actually be able to touch him on Friday, he was completely defenseless when Chloe fixed him with that look and asked,

 

"Clark, you're grinning like an idiot again. What gives?"

 

The words just came out.

 

"I think I'm in love."

 

There was no spluttering of coffee from Chloe. No choking on a slice of pie from Pete. In fact his oldest friend just studied him impassively as Chloe pursed her lips together with amusement.

 

"Well, yeah, but anything other than that?"

 

Clark's shock at actually saying it out loud was overtaken by another kind. "You *knew*?"

 

"Sure," she shrugged, stirring her coffee with a spoon. "I doubt there's anyone in Smallville who doesn't."

 

What the hell? "Everyone knows?!"

 

"Of course, Clark. It's not like it's a secret how long you've been mooning over Lana. I'm kinda surprised you didn't realise it was love before now, actually."

 

Oh. Ohhhhh. "It's, uh, not Lana."

 

"It isn't?" She stared at him, eyes wide. "Then who's the lucky girl?"

 

Damn. Life would be so much easier if people didn't make assumptions about gender. "Technically, it's...not a girl." And he'd just come out to two of his closest friends. In public. When less than a month ago he hadn't even realised he *liked* guys. Or Lex.

 

Chloe, thankfully, didn't seem horrified by the idea - just curious. "But Clark, the only guy you spend any significant amount of time with apart from Pete is...oh my God!" She openly gawked at him, and then leant forward to whisper dramatically. "It's not *Pete*, is it?!"

 

Beginning to have the sneaking suspicion that he'd been set up, Clark knew it was true when he heard the strangled noises coming from Pete's mouth. Obviously trying not to laugh, Pete had his eyes tightly shut and was rocking back and forth on his chair.

 

Not in the least bit amused, Clark sat back and folded his arms across his chest. "I hate you."

 

"Only at the moment," Chloe responded sweetly. "Come on, Clark. It's not like we're making fun of you, we're just...well okay," Apparently even she couldn't keep that one going. "We *are* making fun of you, but it's only because you're so darn sweet."

 

"Sweet?" He wasn't sure whether to be flattered or insulted, but his shoulders lost some of their tension.

 

"Man," Pete had opened his eyes again, wiping the back of his hand across them. "You have no idea how obvious you've been, do you?"

 

Confused, Clark shifted in his chair. "What do you mean?"

 

"I mean I've talked to you just after you've been on the phone with him, Clark." Pete gestured emphatically with his right hand. "It's like seeing the Energizer Bunny on steroids." Clark didn't particularly care for the comparison - he was not a big fluffy bunny no matter how well they bashed those cymbals together - but then Pete was speaking again, his voice deliberately higher than usual. "'Lex Lex Lex Lex Lex. Did I tell you about my Lex today? He called me! Oh my God, I have to note that down in my diary!'"

 

Chloe laughed so hard, Clark was briefly concerned she'd die from asphyxiation.

 

But only briefly. The rest of the time he was glowering. "Thanks for making this so easy for me, guys. You know, this is the first time I've told anyone."

 

"Shit, man," Pete's voice was thankfully back to normal, "we don't care that you're gay or whatever. You're still Clark. It's just that, *as* Clark..."

 

"You are so *easy*!" Chloe finished, which was apparently her favourite term of the month. Clutching at her stomach, she groaned and started standing up. "I need the little girls' room. Don't say anything funny until I get back."

 

There were a few moments' silence after she left, Clark realising that he really wasn't all *that* annoyed, and then Pete finally spoke.

 

"We were just teasing. You know that, right?" Now appearing very serious about the subject, he leant towards Clark.

 

Unfolding his arms, Clark smiled. "I know. It's just...kinda new? I don't know if that makes sense..."

 

"Doesn't have to. You're *you* after all, Clark." Pete grinned, but it faded away pretty quickly. "It's just...you're sure this is what you want? I gotta admit, since Lionel's been out of the picture Lex hasn't bugged me as much..."

 

Clark rolled his eyes. "Lex has been in Metropolis ever since his dad's condition became public knowledge."

 

"Which may have something to do with it," Pete grinned again, lightly. "Just...be careful. Until you're sure. You do seem pretty damn happy at the moment, it's just..."

 

Knowing what he was getting at, Clark didn't know whether to appreciate the protectiveness or tell Pete to get his nose out of Clark's business. "I haven't told him. About me."

 

The relief was immediate, Pete drawing back a little. "Oh. Oh, good."

 

"But I've been thinking about it," Clark admitted. There wasn't much else to do when Lex wasn't around other than think. If things got really serious, there was no way he'd be able to keep it a secret anymore. He'd have to tell Lex.

 

"I guess it makes sense that you're thinking about it. If you're getting close." Pete's voice was cautious, but Clark could tell that he was at least trying to be enthusiastic.

 

He smiled fondly. "You're a good friend, Pete." When he wasn't being a pain in the ass. "You know that?"

 

A huge, beaming smile. "Well sure, Clarkbar! Who wouldn't want a friend like me?"

 

Lana suddenly materialised by their table. "Certainly not the other customers; you seem to be scaring some of them off," she said with amusement, glancing towards an old couple who were eyeing their table suspiciously.

 

"Maybe their gaydar went off," Chloe suggested as she slid back into her seat, obviously having caught the tail-end of the conversation.

 

Clark groaned.

 

Lana frowned. "Gaydar? I didn't know anyone here was..." She looked at each of them in turn. "Something tells me I missed something important."

 

"Yes, Lana, you did." Chloe nodded very seriously. "Sit down." Lana complied, sitting down in the spare chair. "And listen closely." Chloe turned towards the others. "Pete has something important to tell you..."

 

"Chloe!"

 

Clark laughed openly as Pete spluttered maybe a little *too* much, and he enjoyed Lana's confusion more than he should have. But he was with his closest friends - bar one - and he was still laughing as Chloe grinned wickedly and Pete glared purely for effect.

 

And then Lana's confusion was aimed somewhere else. "Gabe?" Since living with Chloe and her dad, Clark knew she'd long since stopped calling him Mr Sullivan - probably at his insistance.

 

Now, everyone seated at the table turned and saw Mr Sullivan in the middle of the Talon.

 

Just standing there.

 

Chloe was immediately on her feet, rushing towards him. The rest of them quickly followed. "Dad? What's wrong?" There was a slight edge of panic to her voice. "Here, sit down." She pulled an unused chair out from under the nearest table - an occupied table - but he ignored it, even when she put her hand on his arm. "Dad, seriously, you're freaking me out here."

 

Physically he looked fine, and Clark did a quick check with his x-ray vision to make sure. Definitely nothing wrong that he could see.

 

Shaking his head as if only just becoming aware of his surroundings, Mr Sullivan turned his head to look at his daughter. "I'm sorry, honey, I just..."

 

Clark had to know. "What happened, Mr Sullivan?"

 

His movements were slow, distracted, but eventually he was looking at Clark and speaking.

 

"It's LuthorCorp. They're shutting down the plant."

 

*

 

Clark tried not to overreact. He listened to everything Mr Sullivan had to say, took all the information in, and *then* made his decision.

 

Apparently not overreacting meant running to Metropolis as fast as Clark-ly possible.

 

Sighing as he ran, Clark nonetheless didn't slow down. He knew he was ruled largely by his emotions but seemed powerless to do anything about it. Even Lex had commented on it in one of their phone calls...not that Lex had ever said there was anything *wrong* with it. Just the opposite. If anything he actively encouraged Clark to follow his heart, so to speak, and that was all the justification Clark needed to keep heading towards Metropolis.

 

A little over five minutes after leaving the Talon under the guise of going to call Lex (and completely ignoring the knowing look Pete had been giving him), Clark arrived in the city.

 

Realising he couldn't just appear outside LuthorCorp's head office amid the crowd of people, Clark aimed for an alley he knew was a few blocks away. It was tricky running in the city - so much more to avoid - so for the most part he'd stuck to running straight down the middle of the road.

 

Finally managing to make it into the alley without killing anyone, Clark immediately left again at normal speed and walked purposefully towards his destination.

 

As he pushed open the glass door and stepped inside, he tried not to think of the last time he'd been there.

 

The woman on reception was far too perky for Clark's current mood, and she didn't seem in the least bit surprised when he introduced himself and asked to see Lex.

 

"Of course," she chirped happily, reminding Clark of a particularly annoying bird. "Mr Luthor said that anytime you arrive you're to be sent straight up to his office."

 

Clark couldn't even feel pleased about that. Instead he simply signed for a visitor's pass and listened as the woman - Brenda, according to her nametag - gave him directions. Not that he needed them. Lex had apparently taken over Lionel's old office, and Clark knew exactly where that was.

 

A few moments later he was in the elevator, riding up to the top floor. It would have been faster to run up the stairs, but he'd already taken far too many chances considering the amount of security cameras that had to exist in this particular building.

 

Clark emerged, eventually, and headed straight for what had to be the desk of Lex's secretary or PA - whatever she was. Looking up from her computer screen she smiled brightly.

 

"Can I help you?"

 

It was like being in a building full of pod people. But then this was LuthorCorp. Maybe they actually *were*. "I'm here to see Lex."

 

Her face sparked with something - recognition, maybe - and her smile grew impossibly larger. "Of course, Mr Kent." Okay, that was almost getting creepy. "If you'd like to take a seat, Mr Luthor isn't in his office at the moment but he should be back shortly."

 

Saying nothing in reply, Clark turned and eyed the leather sofa she'd gestured towards. It really did look incredibly comfortable, but Clark could *not* sit down. He was still keyed up from the run, still confused, still *angry*, so he stuck his hands into the pockets on the back of his jeans and paced back and forth.

 

There had to be a good explanation for this; there *had* to be. When Lex's dad had tried to shut down the plant the first time Lex had fought back, using the townspeople and their money to keep it running. Clark hadn't even thought it'd be possible for Lex to unilaterally shut it down without consulting anyone else who'd invested, but then he was hardly a businessman himself.

 

Why go to all that trouble of saving it before only to shut it down now?

 

Growing increasingly impatient, Clark stopped his pacing and began x-raying through various walls until he spotted Lex. There. He seemed to be walking back towards his office, though he had two people either side of him - a man and a woman. He was apparently discussing something with the woman as he took the piece of paper the man was holding in front of him and studied it intensely.

 

Clark had long ago stopped believing that anything in movies reflected real life, but Lex was proving him wrong. He was the very archetype of The Man in Charge.

 

Seeing that Lex was just about to reach the corner that would take him into the area Clark was waiting in, Clark quickly turned back to normal vision and tried to look surprised when Lex appeared.

 

Glancing up from the paper he'd been reading, Lex smiled largely. "Clark!" He immediately drew closer, and the people who'd been walking with him suddenly dispersed as if they'd never been there at all. "To what do I owe this unexpected but very pleasant visit?"

 

Lex was almost *obscenely* happy. Under other circumstances Clark would have been glad for that; now all he could do was fix Lex with as firm a gaze as possible. Knowing that it'd probably make things easier if they didn't do this in 'public', Clark nodded his head towards Lex's office.

 

"We need to talk. Privately."

 

The smile fading, a frown flickered across Lex's face. "All right, Clark." He began walking towards his office, making sure Clark was following behind, and he nodded towards his secretary as he passed by her desk. "Hold all my calls, Rachel."

 

"Yes, Mr Luthor."

 

As Lex approached the doors to his office they swooshed open - just as they'd done under Lionel's reign. Clark had considered it an unnecessary convenience then and felt just the same now.

 

Of course he was also trying to think how *good* it was to see Lex, and how especially fantastic his butt looked in the black pants he was wearing.

 

No. He was angry. He had to concentrate.

 

Once the doors had shut and Lex had thrown the paperwork onto his desk, he slipped his hands into his pockets and faced Clark. "What's wrong?"

 

"Why are you shutting down the plant?" Surprise flickered across Lex's features and he looked away. Clark kept staring at him, mostly in disbelief. It was *true*? It was actually happening and Lex knew about it? "Did you think I wouldn't find out? It's called Smallville for a reason, Lex."

 

"No, I..." Lex turned away slightly, his right hand coming out of his pocket to lift up and rub at his head. "Just not this soon."

 

Unbelievable. "You were trying to *hide* this from me?" Of course. Of course he was. He already had been. "This couldn't have been an overnight decision. How many times when we spoke did you already know you were going to do this? How many days did you keep this to yourself?"

 

Lex closed his eyes. "Every one. Every single day."

 

Betrayal stamped its way through Clark's body. He just couldn't...he couldn't believe, or rationalise, or... "You should have told me."

 

"And you would have tried to talk me out of it."

 

"With good reason!" Clark shot back, taking a step closer to the desk. "Lex, you know how many people depend on that plant! For most it's their entire livelihood!"

 

"I'm not firing anyone," Lex was almost close to shouting, but that was something a Luthor never did. "I'm relocating everyone who works there; getting them other jobs elsewhere in LuthorCorp."

 

Okay, so that part Clark hadn't known, but it still didn't make everything right. "Where are they going to work, Lex? There's nowhere else in or near Smallville that can hire that many people. Are they supposed to come here? Work in Metropolis, with a six hour commute altogether? It doesn't make *sense*, Lex."

 

Tightly pursing his lips together, Lex no longer showed any signs of hesitation. "It's *my* business decision, Clark. Not yours. It doesn't have to make sense to *you*."

 

In that moment, Clark was absolutely convinced that he didn't know the man on the other side of the desk. "When I saw you earlier, when you first came around the corner? You wanna know what I saw?" He moved even closer, placing his hands on the desk and leaning in. "I saw your *father*." The words were intended to hurt and Clark saw the effect immediately; Lex blanched, his lips pushing tighter together. "The man who doesn't give a damn about people; the man only interested in profit, in making a name for himself." Pushing away from the desk, Clark shook his head as he started stumbling backwards. "I don't even know who you are."

 

Wrong, God, how could he have been so wrong? He thought he'd known Lex but all of those beautiful memories - running in the dark, kissing by the car, long talks that went on for hours - they were ruined now, because all the time Lex had been planning this and *hadn't said a word*.

 

"Clark..." Lex started walking around his desk.

 

"No," Clark stumbled further away. "I have no interest in staying to watch you turn further into Lionel Luthor. I'm going, and..." The door whooshed open behind him and Clark paused, forcing himself to meet Lex's gaze. He licked his lips. "I don't want you calling me tonight."

 

And then Clark turned, clenched his fists, and walked out of Lex's office.

 

*

 

Lex didn't call him that evening.

 

Or the evening after that.

 

Or the evening after *that*.

 

Clark tried not to let it matter; tried to pretend that his body didn't tense up whenever the phone rang, tried to pretend that he always spent that much time in the kitchen, conveniently close to the phone.

 

Tried to ignore the way Mom kept looking at him.

 

Dad didn't even rant about Lex, or at least not in front of Clark. Said nothing about how 'this was just like the Luthors' or 'I always knew he took after his father'. Dad just got on with the farm work, doing what needed to be done.

 

Clark ended up spending more time with him than usual, working at normal speed. They didn't talk much. For once Dad's reassurring words were all left unsaid and their conversation consisted of nothing more than "Can you pass me the...?" and "Give me a hand here, Clark."

 

School was school. Clark went to his lessons, did his homework and tried to look like any of it took any effort at all. He still helped out at the Torch and Chloe actually didn't try to burrow under his skin or get his opinion on what was happening, but then she had enough to worry about herself. The plant was still open but wouldn't be for much longer, and no one had much hope of anyone who worked there getting another job in the area anytime soon.

 

No one was believing Lex's promise that he'd find them other work. He may have 'proven' himself to the people of Smallville over the last two years, may have won their trust...but this? With no warning and - so far - no explanation, it wiped everything away.

 

After a very long Friday Clark sat up in the barn, thinking. Lex was only doing exactly what Clark had said - he wasn't calling him.

 

Clark just hadn't said that Lex should never call him again.

 

Knowing that he was probably being too picky - he'd told Lex not to call him and now that he wasn't Clark was grumpy - he sighed and looked down at the Biology Textbook From Hell. That, at least, was still the only thing that was proving to be a challenge, and Clark was actually thankful for it. Struggling through like other people made him feel normal. Human.

 

Alive.

 

It wasn't the only thing that made him feel alive, and when he heard then saw a familiar car he felt it again and knew...

 

He could forgive Lex.

 

Even if there was never an explanation, even if Lex was doing it purely for profit, even if it was never *right*...Clark could forgive him. And it was terrifying and beautiful and half the reason Clark had pulled away in the first place. His parents had always taught him to do what was good, right, acceptable, but his parents hadn't counted on Lex Luthor.

 

If he could forgive Lex this, what else could he forgive?

 

Nothing else seemed to matter, then, when Lex appeared at the top of the stairs. Clark didn't smile, still trying to be angry and Do The Right Thing - and he *was* angry, he was, but he also wanted to touch him and kiss him and was this the Luthor influence? Or him being an alien? Or just him being Clark?

 

He didn't know which was scarier.

 

Lex stepped up into the fortress and Clark turned away. It was Friday evening, Lex's expected return, and Clark wanted nothing more than to celebrate it how they'd originally planned. The memory of kisses by the car played in his brain as he closed his eyes.

 

"I should have handled it better," Lex said, and Clark almost laughed.

 

"You shouldn't have told the truth?"

 

Lex's sigh was audible. "I should have told you earlier."

 

"Yes." He should have. He really should.

 

"It's just..." Expensive Italian shoes on old wood. "I see things differently now, Clark. All those times I thought my father was shutting some part of LuthorCorp down just to spite me...I don't think it was always just that. Running LuthorCorp is so different to running LexCorp. LuthorCorp is so much bigger, so much more impressive. Things are different. I see what really matters for the business."

 

Clark's head snapped to one side, but he still didn't actually look at him. "What's important for the business is shutting down the plant?" He was still stuck in old routines, still used to asking what he was supposed to. He pushed and pulled inside himself, trying to decide.

 

"I don't just oversee the plant, Clark. It's a part of LuthorCorp now." LexCorp no longer existed? Although that probably made sense rather than trying to run the two companies separately. "Do you know how many people I employ worldwide? Over 100,000. I have to think of *all* my employees, not just the relative few who work in Smallville."

 

"So this is for everyone's good?" He couldn't turn around yet. Couldn't turn around because if he did, he wouldn't stop moving.

 

"In the long run, yes. But you were right, in some ways. I shouldn't have tried to keep it a secret. I should..." He paused, and Clark *knew* Lex was looking out of the barn, towards the fading sunlight. "I should have at least told you, Clark."

 

That was it. Whatever there was that'd been holding Clark back was suddenly *gone* and he was turning and kissing Lex.

 

Lex's surprised 'oof!' was quickly forgotten as he kissed back, grabbing onto Clark's shoulders and *God*, Clark had been wanting to do this for weeks. Lex was still going to do questionable things and Clark wasn't going to care. Or at least not care enough to stop wanting *this* as they stumbled across to the sofa and collapsed down.

 

Bodies moved, getting comfortable and Clark was shivering, on fire as Lex kissed and stroked and rubbed.

 

Lex was down by his groin eventually, Clark's jeans somehow unzipped and tugged down already - he really had to get Lex to show him how to do that - and when Lex looked up at him then, mouth mere milimetres from Clark's cock, Clark knew he had least had to say *something*.

 

"This doesn't make it right."

 

Lex seemed to understand. Lex seemed to understand everything. "Doesn't have to." And then his mouth was around Clark's cock.

 

Clark gasped as he rolled his head back, back nearly arching off the sofa. God, it was so...*so*...like nothing else. Nothing else completely. Jerking off was completely different. His hand wasn't as hot, and it certainly couldn't *suck* and it was entirely possible his eyes were crossing.

 

His left hand lifted up to pound against the back of the sofa; anything so he wouldn't touch Lex, wouldn't accidentally hurt him as Lex tongued and sucked and when he took Clark in even deeper and hummed Clark's entire body arched as he groaned loudly and came.

 

Sometime later Lex was still touching him, rubbing Clark's dick gently. It was sore, maybe even painful, but that was exactly what Clark wanted.

 

Having moved back up Clark's body, Lex leant down to kiss him slowly. Still caressing, still touching. "Next time," he whispered as he pulled away, "you can suck me."

 

Whether it was the words, the touch, the fact that it was Lex - it didn't matter. Clark shivered again, goosebumps forming over his body, and right then he couldn't quite remember if he'd ever had them before.

 

"Yes."

 

*

 

Saturday morning brought with it the departure of Clark's parents to the farmers market. Clark had begged off, claiming revision, and though he wasn't entirely sure they believed him, soon enough he was left to his own devices on the farm.

 

He sped through his chores as well as Dad's to make up for not going, and then he was left with absolutely nothing to do.

 

Which wasn't really true. He did have homework that needed finishing, or he could go visit Pete or Chloe or Lana, but...

 

He couldn't stop thinking about Lex, and what last night meant.

 

Helping himself to a rare cup of coffee - he may have spent a lot of time at the Talon, but more often than not he drank something else - Clark sat at the kitchen table and pondered.

 

Nothing about last night had really felt wrong, but it hadn't felt particularly *right*, either. Clark had had so many dreams and fantasies since Lex had gone to the city and started calling him every night, and the reality hadn't felt like a single one of them.

 

He hadn't expected perfection, exactly (okay, maybe he had), but he just hadn't anticipated having to live with - being *willing* to live with - what could turn out to be Lex's darker side.

 

Clark didn't like shades of grey, uncertainties. Not knowing exactly what was wrong, what was right and *why*.

 

Or so he told himself.

 

When he'd been in Metropolis, when he'd been Kal, he'd revelled in the uncertainties. He'd been far beyond shades of grey, doing things every day that were bad, illegal, and helped no one but himself.

 

He'd tried to make up for it afterwards, pretending that part of him had died when the ring had been destroyed and the mark had disappeared from his chest. He'd returned the money - what there was of it - and pulled the plaid and jeans, the clothes of his old life, back on.

 

Kal had been erased. Forgotten. Pushed so far back in his mind that Clark didn't think of him at all, his own 'dark' side only manifesting itself in the occasional dream that Clark forced himself to forget immediately.

 

It was nice being Clark Kent again. Blushing, innocent, kissing Lex like he'd never kissed another guy before. Gasping and groaning in the barn as if he'd never been sucked off.

 

But that was the truth. It *was*. *Clark* hadn't been the one in Metropolis. It'd been The Other Him.

 

Only now Clark was beginning to suspect The Other Him was starting to emerge again. This time by itself, without the aid of red kryptonite, and it was scaring the hell out of him.

 

Was this what Lex had meant? All those times he'd talked about destiny and the stuff of legend? Clark had always liked the idea but had never really believed it. Until now. He wasn't moving but he felt like he was barrelling purposefully towards something. Destiny? Truth? Life?

 

Lex and himself?

 

Lex and Clark's *alien* self?

 

It was so much easier to separate Clark from the alien; to deal with them like they were two different people. Clark was the good boy, who did what his parents told him yet could never quite catch the bus for school on time.

 

Kal was dangerous, demanding, caring nothing for anyone else - whether he hurt them mentally, physically or both.

 

Except...when Lex had been missing on the island, when Lex had been presumed dead, Kal had gone to the funeral. He hadn't willingly contacted anyone from his old life; the only time he'd called Martha and Jonathan Kent was when the pain had been too much and he'd ripped the ring from his finger.

 

He'd still been wearing it when he went to Lex's funeral.

 

Clark had ignored the memories for months but now he focused on a specific day. It was a blur, a rush, feeling and floating, red and hot and easily the most excited he'd ever been.

 

Until he'd seen the newspaper.

 

He'd robbed a bank that night; bought a car, picked up the woman selling it. Everything just to try to *forget*. And he should have known when he was too rough with her, when he always drove the women away, exactly what it meant.

 

Maybe Kal had.

 

Maybe that was why Kal was coming back, and Clark seemed powerless to stop it.

 

He only realised he'd shattered the mug he was holding when he felt coffee splatter against his shirt. Shaking his head he stood up, almost dizzy, letting the ceramic shards clunk to the table as he stared at his perfect hands.

 

It shouldn't have been like this. With Lex it should have been gentle, and sweet, and Clark would have wiped away every shadow Lionel had ever left on his son's face.

 

The sound of screeching tyres disrupted his thoughts and then Clark was outside, standing on the porch with coffee still staining his hands. A car he didn't recognise was heading straight for the farmhouse, obviously out of control. Clark didn't think, he just *moved* and everything stopped - him, the car - all of it frozen scant inches away from the fence that surrounded the house.

 

The engine had cut out and Clark looked through the windscreen, hands still planted firmly on the hood as he frowned in disbelief. Pulling away he walked the few steps to the side of the car, opened the door and...it was. It really was.

 

Lionel Luthor was slumped over the wheel.

 

He looked terrible. Paler than Clark had ever seen him; hair lank and falling over his face and it looked suspiciously like he was still wearing hospital clothes under the large brown coat he'd found somewhere.

 

Clark quickly found a pulse, and a x-ray of Lionel's skull showed no signs of concussion. Clark's mind was screaming; there was something wrong, something *wrong*, but he couldn't leave Lionel like this no matter who he was and carefully scooped Lex's father into his arms and carried him into the house.

 

What was Lionel doing there? He'd obviously woken up against all odds and he was driving already? Why come here? How did Lex not know about this?

 

All those questions and more pounded through his brain as he carefully lowered Lionel until he was lying on the sofa, head lolling back disturbingly until Clark put a cushion under it.

 

"Lex," Clark said, he had to call Lex, and he stood up to reach for the phone when a hand clamped - there was no other word for it - around his forearm and suddenly he was staring down at the man who'd been unconscious just a moment before. "Mr Luthor? Are you okay?"

 

Lionel's hand - his left, Clark noted - flexed even more, harder as his eyes bored into Clark's and he spoke with a voice that was unmistakably Lionel's. "You can't call him."

 

Clark's permanent frown only grew deeper and his mind was yelling at him again but he didn't pull away when he responded. "Why not?"

 

Lionel closed his eyes as if his head hurt and when he opened them again they were even darker, even harsher than before and then everything, *everything* made sense.

 

"*I'm* Lex."

 

*

 

Denial set in instantly.

 

"I don't know what you're trying to do, *Luthor*," Lionel was too familiar right now, and Mr Luthor showed too much respect, "but I'm not falling for it. Get out and go try this on someone else. Maybe you'll have more luck." Clark tried to pull away, should have been more than capable, but the exhausted man's grip was relentless.

 

It should have been easy. Use his strength, free his arm, but he...couldn't.

 

"My name is Alexander Luthor," Luthor began seriously. "You're my best friend. When we're not talking or playing pool, you've saved me from this town's high number of homicidal residents more times that I care to admit. You work at the Torch, you tried working at the Talon, your best friends are Pete and Chloe, and you've been in love with Lana for as long as you can remember. I once thought we might be brothers, and the time my *father*," he paused, practically snarling over the word, "threw me out of the mansion, you and your family took me in. Your mother once told me you were the *one* person who always believed in me, the *one* person who stood by me no matter what. I was too far under Desiree's control to believe it at the time, but afterwards - and now - I know that it's true." Pushing himself further up from the couch, looking dangerously close to collapsing, he leant closer. "You're my *friend*, Clark. This is *me*."

 

Clark was going to throw up.

 

He'd never experienced it before but the sudden feel of nausea, the disturbing sensation crawling up his throat - it had to be what throwing up felt like.

 

He moved, finally, yanking himself out of the man's grasp. But still, he couldn't use his powers. He stumbled blindly into the kitchen until he reached what he hoped was the sink, and proceeded to bring up his breakfast.

 

It was disgusting, unnatural, his throat was burning, *hurting*, and it felt like he was trying to expel every word, every touch, every smile Lionel/Lex had ever given him.

 

Finally there was nothing left in his stomach, nothing left to come up, and Clark heaved uselessly over the sink, the stench of his own insides making him gag.

 

"Oh Jesus fuck," Lionel, or Lex, or Lionel, said in horror from somewhere behind him. "What did he do to you?"

 

Clark sobbed, finally stopped heaving and sank down to his knees, head resting against the cupboard door as he breathed heavily.

 

"*What* did he *do* to you?!"

 

"Nothing I didn't want!" Clark screamed, and he'd just discovered that it'd been Lionel who'd sucked him off so that really didn't feel like too strong a reaction. "I thought-" He couldn't look at 'Lex', couldn't look at *him*, kept his whole body turned away. "I thought it was you." And he had no idea now if Lex even liked him like that, if it'd really been Lionel ever since... "How long? When did...when did he do this?" There was no question of it being Lionel's doing, but why the hell had he done it? What'd he been trying to *do*?

 

"About a month." Lex's voice, but not. Lex's tone, but not.

 

That confirmed it. Closing his eyes, Clark felt his stomach turn again. All this time. Ever since the 'aneurysm' which had now clearly never happened. Running to the barn, kissing by the car, every single phone call, thinking he was in love...

 

Thinking he was in love. "Oh, God." With Lionel, with *Lionel*, only it wasn't, *it wasn't* because he'd felt like this about Lex before and just hadn't realised what it meant.

 

"I'm killing that son of a bitch. I'm fucking *killing him*!"

 

Something smashed on the other side of the kitchen as Lex let loose. Clark didn't move, didn't jump, just sat on the floor of kitchen, head pressing against wood, staring down at his hands as he just *breathed*.

 

The noises stopped, eventually. Lex had apparently got it out of his system for now, and there was someone kneeling close to him, heat radiating from their body.

 

"Clark, listen to me," Not Lionel said. "I understand that you may find it difficult to look at me right now," Clark choked out a laugh at the words. God! "But we can't stay. The second he finds out I'm gone he'll come straight here. Shit, I shouldn't have even come here at all, should never have put you at risk..."

 

Lex was saying they should *do* something. Clark's brain could cope with that; it could cope with that much better than anything else at the moment. "No," his voice was clogged, sounding almost underwater to him. "You didn't bring me into this. He did the moment he..." *Looked like you*. Fuck.

 

"Clark," a hand touched his shoulder and Clark couldn't help it - he flinched. The hand pulled away immediately and Lex's voice - Lionel's voice - when he spoke was deadly. "I'll rip his fucking head off for this."

 

Only if Clark didn't get there first.

 

Who could do something like this to their own son? Clark had so many questions, needed so many answers but Lex was right - time was something they didn't have a lot of. "Where are we going?" Clark asked, pushing himself to his feet because despite everything this was still Lex, and Lex always had a plan.

 

"Metropolis. There are people there who might be able to help in some way and...it's probably where this happened to me."

 

Clark frowned, staring at the mess in the sink. "Where did you wake up?"

 

"In a hospital in Granville."

 

Surprise made Clark blink, but it was the only question he allowed himself for now. He had to concentrate on *moving*, on getting away from the farm and especially the barn. Steeling himself, he finally turned and looked at Lex.

 

Lionel.

 

Lex.

 

Who still looking disturbingly like Lionel. Clark almost blurted out "I'll never get used to this!" but somehow managed to produce "Do I need to bring anything?" instead.

 

Lionel...Lex. *Lex* nodded. "If you have any money at all, that'll help. I'll have access to more once we reach Metropolis. Any food and water we can take with us in the car. The less we need to stop the better."

 

Stopping was bad. Moving was good.

 

So Clark didn't focus on how well Lex seemed to be handling things, instead he just focused on the *doing*. Grabbing a bag from under the stairs he started throwing things into it - food, bottles of water, the tin of money Mom kept hidden in the cupboard with the bleach. A shirt, a few changes of underwear, and then remembering what Lex was - or rather wasn't - wearing, Clark found some clothes that would fit him well enough and told him to get changed.

 

When the bag was packed, when Lex was changed, Clark stood in the kitchen staring at the remnants of his coffee cup still on the table.

 

And for the first time since Lex arrived, Clark let himself think of his parents.

 

"I can't leave a note, can I? Or call them."

 

Lex was leaning heavily against the counter, all but ready to collapse. "Your phone's probably already been tapped for weeks."

 

Bastard. *Bastard*. "I...I did this to them before, Lex." Clark closed his eyes. He'd never told anyone exactly what he'd done when he was in Metropolis, and even after learning Clark had been missing the entire time Lex had been on the island, Lex had known to never ask. "Dad had a heart attack because of it."

 

"If you don't want to do this..."

 

"No, I have to." He couldn't leave Lex like this, couldn't let Lionel get away unpunished. "It's just..." His eyes were still closed. "Why did you come to me, Lex?"

 

Heavy feet shuffled across the floor. "Because you're Clark. Because you're the only person I can stand to rely on. Because I'm not strong enough yet. And because your mother really was right, Clark. You're the *one* person." Clark opened his eyes and he knew, he *knew* what Lex was going to say next. "Stuff of legend, Clark."

 

It sounded almost like Lex's voice.

 

It was enough.

 

Nodding, Clark picked up the bag, opened the door for Lex, and followed him out of the house.

 

*

 

He didn't want to wake Lex up - he clearly needed the rest - but Lex had made Clark promise to let him know if they stopped anywhere. Lex hated not knowing what was going on, far too inquisitive to just let life pass by without being aware of everything that was happening.

 

Turning off the engine, Clark woke Lex up and decided not to tell him right now how stupid he looked in the hat he was wearing.

 

The hat had been one Clark had found in the house and given to Lex when they first got in the car. Lionel was easily recognisable, but a lot of that was down to his impressive mane of hair. For now, keeping the hair mostly out of the view was their best chance of disguise.

 

Clark was pretty sure no one ever expected to see Lionel Luthor wearing a baseball cap.

 

Lex stirred, eyes flickering open, and until that moment Clark thought he'd been doing a pretty good job of separating the father's body from the son's mind.

 

But there were moments, like this one, where Clark was absolutely convinced he was sitting next to Lionel Luthor.

 

And then 'Lionel' spoke, looking at him. "Clark?"

 

Lex was his friend. Lex was his best friend. "We need gas."

 

Comprehension flooded Lionel's - Lex's - features, and he immediately hunched away from the window, obviously worried about someone seeing him. "Money," he said needlessly, tugging the brim of his cap down, trying to shade his eyes.

 

Saying nothing, Clark reached back into the still-open bag he'd thrown into the back seat, and took fifty dollars out of the tin. He wasn't expecting to spend it all on gas, but it was probably a good idea to have some actual money on him.

 

Clark had just opened the car door and stepped outside when Lex said his name, making him lean back in. "Yeah?"

 

The white and blue of the baseball cap really *weren't* Lionel's colours. "Be quick."

 

Clark was.

 

Lex didn't fall asleep when they got back on the road again. He talked instead, telling Clark what he remembered. A business meeting in Metropolis, a sharp pain, and then waking up in a hospital bed he was reasonably sure he was never expected to move from.

 

"Apparently," said in a wry tone that was so familiar, "my father underestimated his own constitution." He seemed to find the thought amusing, and though his smile didn't look particularly healthy Clark wasn't about to tell him to stop. "Of course I knew something *really* strange was happening when I became aware of the fact that I was," he gestured towards his head, "suddenly hirsute. And then I reached up and felt this." His hand moved to rub over the beard, which had grown longer than Lionel usually liked to wear it. His voice lowered, quietened, almost as if he wasn't intending to speak at all. "It feels so strange."

 

Clark could only imagine. He'd had his own head screwed with quite impressively and was doing everything possible to forget certain things, but *Lex*? Jesus, waking up in your father's body, your *hairy* father's body after a lifetime of being just the opposite?

 

And obviously, hair was the most important issue at the moment.

 

He was such an idiot.

 

Lex's hand lowered, and thankfully for Clark's mouth - which had just been about to spout off some useless sentiment - he kept talking. "I think it's safe to say the hospital I woke up in wasn't in general use anymore. In fact there was barely anyone there at all, and the next time a nurse came to check on me...well, I guess I'm just extremely lucky he was smaller than me."

 

Clark had no doubt that even a weakened Lex would be able to take down anyone he fought through sheer determination. He'd always been the kind to fight back. It was in his nature.

 

He had a sudden image of Lex running barefoot through the hospital, brushing past pale walls, desperate just to *escape*. It was disturbing how easy it was to imagine.

 

"So I ran," Lex continued. "To you."

 

Clark's hand tightened on the steering wheel. The hatred he felt for Lionel was unlike anything he'd experienced; even during the times he'd been affected by the red kryptonite, when he'd loathed everyone and everything, he'd never felt like *this*. Even when Phelan had got Dad locked away and Clark had come so close to hurting him...

 

Not like this. Nothing was like this.

 

"We'll make him pay." Clark didn't look away from the road. "We'll make him pay, Lex."

 

It felt good.

 

*

 

When they reached Metropolis, Lex started directing him towards one of the more rundown parts of the city. Clark didn't feel particularly wary; he was more than capable of protecting them both if it came to that, and it made much more sense to hide out here. Unexpected.

 

And it wasn't his first time in a place like this.

 

Lex eventually told him to pull over and switch off the engine, then started getting out. "Make sure you have everything. The car won't be here in the morning."

 

Okay, maybe Clark was vaguely wary.

 

A short walk towards a building that looked on the verge of collapse, and Clark tried to ignore the homeless man on the other side of the road. Then they were inside the building - the door must have been unlocked - and Clark was even more wary, following Lex up several sets of doors before they finally reached their destination.

 

Which was blocked by a very thick looking metal door.

 

"The problem with this," Lex sighed, "is that if I ever did need to use this place, I still actually expected to have the keys. Maybe we can find something to pry the door open with..." He started searching around in the gloom, as if he might stumble across a handy crowbar.

 

Clark didn't even need to think about it. He just grabbed the large metal handle with his free hand, and pulled.

 

The noise wasn't particularly loud, but still audible - five metal locks being wrenched apart at once, and then the door was sliding across, open.

 

Clark stepped into what was clearly an apartment. He didn't look back.

 

"Well," Lex said eventually, handling this as well as he seemed to be handling everything else. "Of course the problem now is keeping the door shut as opposed to getting it open."

 

"I can take care of that, too," Clark replied, stepping further into the apartment and looking around. Heat vision was just as good at melting metal as it was at cutting through it.

 

He was quietly terrified as he studied his surroundings, half-thrilled, half-scared shitless that he'd just *shown* himself to someone like that.

 

Hadn't even hesitated.

 

Clark had always expected...and had he always expected that Lex actually *would* find out some day?

 

Regardless, Clark had always expected to be assaulted from all sides by all kinds of philosophical and scientific questions when Lex found out. He'd even expected accusations, and had always hoped for eventual understanding. The idea of Lex hating him because he was so different or because he hadn't told the truth was almost as scary as the moment when he'd shown him the truth, just a few moments ago.

 

Which probably should have clued him in a long time ago to the fact that his feelings for Lex weren't entirely straight.

 

Forcing himself to focus on something else, he studied the apartment. It mostly consisted of one room, before turning to right slightly off into a kitchen area, and behind that was a door leading out beyond what he could see. There were no chairs, but there was a large bed and a fair-sized chest of drawers.

 

It was considerably nicer in here than how the building had looked on the outside, though still well below the level of luxury Lex was used to. Lex didn't seemd to care much about what the apartment looked like at all as he walked in the small kitchen area, and opened one of the cupboards. There were a few tinned goods but as Clark moved closer he saw Lex shoving them out of the way and literally pushing the back of the cupboard out.

 

Huh.

 

Lex's left hand delved about inside the obvious hiding place, until he grabbed hold of something, pulled it out, and threw it onto the counter. Clark didn't even need to use his x-ray vision to know what was in the brown paper bag.

 

Money.

 

"I'm having a shower," Lex declared, sounding way too much like his father as he strode towards what had to be the bathroom, yanking the cap off with obvious pleasure and throwing it over his shoulder.

 

When the door clicked shut, Clark finally let the bag he was still holding thump to the floor, and instead inched closer towards the paper bag on the side. Intrigued, he opened it up and pulled out what turned out to be a huge amount of money. There was fifty thousand dollars there. At least.

 

That wasn't all that was inside. Tilting the bag further, Clark peered inside and pulled out two passports. Opening the first one, Clark wasn't really surprised when he saw Lex's picture with another name. He was, however, surprised that the Lex in the picture had hair.

 

But then he shouldn't have been surprised. Lex had obviously taken precautions in case one day he needed to disappear, and his head definitely stood out.

 

Letting that passport drop onto the counter, Clark opened the other one.

 

And stared at his own face.

 

It was a picture of him, of *him*, next to the name Jason Rayner and it was...a picture of *him*.

 

Somehow Clark found himself sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at the passport, weighing the implications. At some point Lex had apparently considered the possibility of them needing to get away so seriously, that he'd had fake passports made for both of them.

 

Both.

 

Which spoke really well for the idea of Lex liking him.

 

Only Lex was in his father's body.

 

Clark's life was *so* screwed up.

 

He didn't know how long he'd sat there, but Clark hadn't even registered the sound of the shower stopping - never mind starting - so when the door opened he looked immediately towards it.

 

And was a little surprised at exactly what Lionel kept hidden under his suits. There was no doubting the fact that Lex's dad was in good condition, but frankly Clark was a little relieved to realise that he didn't find Lionel's body particularly attractive. *That* on top of everything else...

 

Lex said nothing about the passport Clark was still holding, though he'd obviously seen it. "Sorry I was so long," Lex began, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. "I had to wash my hair." He sounded odd, saying that. "I didn't have shampoo." He seemed bemused for a moment, grabbing a few strands of the wet hair hanging over his head and pulling them in front of his eyes. And then his mood, and his gaze, darkened. He looked at Clark, barking out the order. "Cut it off. Get rid of it."

 

Clark understood. Clark nodded, stood up, and slipped the passport into his pocket.

 

*

 

Clark had never cut anyone's hair before, and he'd certainly never expected to be cutting Lex's for obvious reasons.

 

For the same reasons Lex had nothing in the apartment to shave or cut hair with, so after promising not to be long Clark left the apartment intending to buy something they could use. Money was definitely not an issue at the moment.

 

Sliding the door across, his paranoia about leaving Lex alone flared up and he welded the door shut with his eyes, telling himself that he didn't care what Lex would think about the smell of melting metal.

 

Either way, Clark was good to his word - he wasn't gone long. Speeding around the city, he eventually found a pharmacy that had what he needed. No one looked at him oddly as he bought the comb, scissors and shaving kit. He half expected them to come running after him, demanding to know why he was buying a shaving kit for a bald guy, but the moment he was out of the shop he sped back to the apartment.

 

Lex had dried off and pulled his pants back on by the time Clark made it back, and Clark found him sitting on a chair he'd moved into the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. His gaze met Clark's in the mirror briefly, and Clark let the bag thunk to the floor before retrieving the comb and scissors and getting to work.

 

It was cramped and still humid from the shower even with the door open, but Clark didn't question it. He simply applied everything he knew about hair cutting to Lex's hair.

 

Of course, everything Clark knew about hair cutting came from Mom and all the times she'd cut *his* hair, but Clark was something of a unique case. It was becoming harder to harder to find scissors that wouldn't break on his hair. As far as Clark knew Mom had never cut hair anywhere near as long as Lex's, so Clark just did what he could with the damp hair.

 

Comb, cut. Comb, cut. Small cuts, not taking off too much in one go, just like Mom always did.

 

"Do you want it all gone?" Clark asked, the first time either of them had spoken since his return.

 

"No," Lex kept staring at himself. "Just make it...short."

 

Clark couldn't blame him for wanting to experience hair as an adult, but he also couldn't blame him for not wanting Lionel's hairstyle. Lex was taking what he could and exerting what little control he had.

 

"So, what happened to my father? Or should I say, what happened to me?" The smile was creepy. "What was the reason for Lionel Luthor's hospitalisation?"

 

Clark felt incredibly dumb. Sure, it wasn't a new feeling but it was a new level of dumbness. Lex had been completely out of commission for over three weeks. How could he possibly have known what 'he', his father, had been doing?

 

And that made Clark realise something else. "Brain aneurysm. He must have been planning this for a while," Clark said, holding part of the hair out straight, cutting a clump off. "He'd made arrangements so that if anything happened to him and he was unable to work, everything got transferred to you. Or really, him." This was getting confusing again. There had to be an easier way to explain things.

 

Lex seemed to understand just fine. "He left everything to himself," he said, with what might have been a note of awe. "Clever bastard."

 

Personally, Clark thought the whole 'transferring people's mind between bodies' thing was cleverer, but then he didn't particularly want to pay Lionel any compliments at all. "If you say so. He's shutting down the plant," Clark added, noting that Lex didn't look particularly surprised. "When I heard about that...I knew something was wrong, but I just couldn't figure it out. But then I guess the body swap theory isn't something you think of everyday. Even in Smallville."

 

It'd been intended as a joke, something that would hopefully bring out something that looked like a Lex smile on Lionel's face, but his expression stayed gravely down-turned. Maybe even more so than before.

 

"Clark..." Clark had moved around to Lex's front, bending at the knees to pick at Lex's hair from a different angle. Lex finally pulled his gaze away from the mirror to look at him and Clark saw for the first time that is really was *Lex* inside. Even in Lionel's body, he looked at Clark the same way he always had.

 

The revelation was reassuring. "Yeah?"

 

Lex's voice was very, very quiet, but he didn't look away. "What did he do to you?"

 

Lex was damn lucky Clark hadn't been cutting just then. Having a pair of scissors jammed into the side of his head probably wouldn't have helped his mood. "Lex..." Clark pulled his hands away, letting his arms drops as he carefully closed the scissors.

 

"Did he," Lex paused, licking his lips. "Did he fuck you?"

 

It was weird, hearing that concern, something undeniably Lex coming out of Lionel's mouth, but it only further confirmed that it was *Lex*. Reaching out, Clark gently touched Lex's left hand where it was resting against his thigh. "No."

 

No reaction, other than another question. "Did you fuck him?"

 

Clark shook his head, his hand tightening. "No. No, Lex."

 

It happened then. Lex closed his eyes, his whole body buckling as he slumped, his head hanging down. "Oh, thank God."

 

Clark didn't think - he'd been doing a lot of not thinking lately - the scissors were gone somewhere, pushed towards the corner of the room and Clark was moving up, his arms going around Lex.

 

Lex didn't hesitate at all, which showed just how badly he needed the contact. "Thank *God*," Lex repeated into Clark's shoulder, returning Clark's hold and even rocking slightly.

 

It was wrong; the body not smooth like it should have been, bristles of a beard brushing against Clark's face and neck, but...it was still Lex. So it wasn't wrong at all.

 

Quite how Clark made the decision, how he decided to take the risk he didn't know, but when he said the words it didn't seem like a risk at all. "I want that to be with you," his whispered into Lex's neck. "I want that to be with the *real* you."

 

Lex suddenly pulled away and for a second Clark was horrified that he'd made the wrong decision, that Lex was going to push him away and God, he was so stupid, so *stupid*...but then Lex was speaking and his expression couldn't be described as anything other that fierce.

 

"When I'm back," Lex said, hands tangled in Clark's hair, holding his head still. "When I'm *me* again. I'm going to wipe every trace of him off of you. Whatever he did...I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won't be able to sit down for a week."

 

Clark believed it. Invulnerability and all.

 

It was also entirely possible he was about to come in his jeans.

 

Figuring that excusing himself to jerk off would probably be inappropriate right now, Clark instead settled on replying with a grin that showed he really liked the idea, before pulling away to find the scissors again.

 

Lex let him go which definitely made things easier in the jeans department, and as Clark concentrated on cutting Lex's hair again the tension slowly eased out of their bodies as well as the room.

 

"So..." Lex began, when Clark was almost done. "Not in love with Lana anymore, I take it."

 

Having moved behind Lex again, Clark laughed, pleased when he saw Lex's responding smile in the mirror. "You could say that." A few snips later and Clark was standing up, moving from one side of Lex to the other. Frowning as he studied his work, Clark didn't think it looked too bad, and he ran a hand through it to move any pieces of loose hair that might be lingering.

 

Lex jumped.

 

Clark immediately snatched his hand back. "Sorry."

 

Shaking his head, Lex lifted his hand up and moved it through his hair. "Just not used to it." It was definitely longer than Pete's but shorter than Clark's was, and it was kinda messy. But not really a bad messy, Clark decided.

 

"Never seen my father look like this," Lex muttered. "It's almost like he's a different person."

 

Clark could tell Lex liked the idea. Looking down at the hair covering the linoleum floor, he bent to pick a few strands of it up. "We should send this to him. You know, 'give me my body back or the hair gets it'."

 

Chuckling, Lex lowered his hand and looked at Clark's reflection. "Bit of a moot point now, Clark."

 

"Well he doesn't know that," Clark offered. "This'd be like cutting off someone's ear and sending that off. When you get it you don't *know* the person's dead."

 

"Quite a disturbing mind you have there, Clark." Lex seemed utterly bemused. "But somehow I doubt my father's going to capitulate simply because we're holding his hair hostage."

 

"Damn." Clark sighed dramatically, crouching until he was peering at himself over Lex's shoulder. "What about his beard?"

 

Lex chuckled again, and Clark was so, *so* happy he could do that.

 

"No," Lex said eventually, "but I do require your help again."

 

Clark nodded. "Sure. What for?"

 

Lex shrugged. "I've never shaved before."

 

*

 

Shaving Lex had been an experience, having to be that close to him. He'd worked with the scissors at first, cutting the beard as short as he'd dared, and then he'd shown Lex how to shave. Deciding it was best to lead by example, Clark had lathered up his own face as well and taught him exactly what to do.

 

If Lex noticed how blunt the razor Clark had used was by the time Clark had finished, he didn't say anything. In fact, now that they were done, Lex was staring at himself even more. He'd long ago stood up to shave but leant closer to the mirror now, turning his face from side to side.

 

Clark thought he knew what Lex was thinking. "You don't really look like him anymore."

 

Lex nodded, grunting his agreement once, but still examining his face.

 

Retrieving the bag, Clark took out the last thing inside. "This'll help even more," he said, stepping towards Lex and holding out the box.

 

Turning slightly, Lex stared down at the boxed bottle of hair dye. He only seemed surprised by one thing. "This matches your hair colour."

 

"Yeah," Clark replied, knowing it did. "I figure, if we have to, we can pass ourselves off as father and son." Not that he and Lionel looked anything alike, but it was better than someone assuming they were anything else.

 

"Good idea," Lex murmured. "I'll do it tomorrow morning." He lifted his head. "Clark?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

"I really need to sleep."

 

Clark didn't even know how Lex was still standing.

 

*

 

The bed was shaking or, rather, something was shaking the bed. Sleepily blinking his eyes open, and shifting under the blanket Lex had pulled out of the chest of drawers, Clark could tell immediately that it was barely early evening. He'd told Lex earlier that he hadn't felt tired - it hadn't been a particularly long day, or at least not physically - but apparently he'd fallen asleep anyway.

 

It took him another two seconds to realise it was Lex who was shaking. Sitting up immediately, Clark reached out towards him. "Lex?"

 

Lex just kept shaking, and for a few moments Clark thought Lex was trying to hide his grief - it was completely understandable that Lex would freak out at some point.

 

But it wasn't quite what Clark thought it was, because he quickly realised Lex wasn't trying to hide his sobs - he was finding it *difficult to breathe*.

 

Shit! "Lex!" Clark pulled Lex towards him, his mind instantly filling with theories of Lionel knowing about this place, about Lex being poisoned somehow, but as Clark sat up and pulled Lex with him, he thought of something else.

 

Panic attack.

 

"Breathe," Clark whispered into his ear, Lex's body pulled flush against Clark's lap, his back against Clark's chest. "Breathe."

 

"His son," Lex gasped out, and he shouldn't be trying to talk, he really shouldn't. "His son, he..." And that may have actually been a sob now.

 

"Don't talk," Clark ordered, his arms rubbing over Lex's, *hating* Lionel Luthor. "Don't talk. Just breathe, Lex."

 

Lex kept gasping, like a fish out of water, so Clark kept talking, murmuring, encouraging, touching, until Lex's breath finally levelled out and the room fell silent.

 

Clark didn't know what time he fell asleep, but when he did Lex was lying quietly next to him.

 

*

 

Lex slept.

 

Clark stirred, and according to his watch it was a little after 5am. He allowed himself a few moments to double, then triple check that Lex was still breathing normally. Even though the snoring was a big giveaway.

 

Reassured, Clark stumbled out of bed, realising he'd ended up sleeping fully dressed, shoes and all. Rubbing at his eyes he began tugging his shoes off, then his clothes, and headed for the bathroom.

 

Clark seriously doubted a shower had ever felt so good to anyone before. He stood under the harsh assault of the water for much longer than usual, letting it hide then wash away the grief he couldn't show Lex.

 

He couldn't find any others, so when Clark finished he dried off using the towel Lex had used yesterday. Feeling considerably better after he emerged from the bathroom, Clark pulled a fresh shirt out of his bag and got dressed.

 

Realising he hadn't eaten a thing since leaving home - had Lex been awake, he would have said something about Clark's lack of appetite being a sure sign that the world was about to end - Clark forced himself to eat some of the food they'd brought with them. He made a mental note to make Lex do the same when he woke up.

 

With nothing else to do, Clark lumbered around the apartment. He'd already cleaned up the hair from the bathroom floor the night before, so couldn't even occupy himself with that. He could go out into the city again, but he wanted to be there when Lex woke up.

 

He always wanted to be there when Lex woke up.

 

Crawling barefoot back onto the bed, Clark stretched out on his side and watched Lex sleep. Was this his destiny now? Being on the run with Lex? Clark knew Lionel would never back down - either they kept running forever, or they'd have to find a way to stop him.

 

Clark could have stopped him easily had Lionel been in his own body. Speed into LuthorCorp, snap his neck, speed out again.

 

So easy.

 

But Lionel wasn't in his own body, and there was no way Clark was letting Lex live the rest of his life as someone he wasn't. *Especially* not Lionel Luthor.

 

For once Clark couldn't barge in and use his powers to fix the problem - they had to do things the Lex way, using time and patience. Patience wasn't one of Clark's strong points, but if it was the only way of taking care of Lionel then he could wait.

 

Besides, Lex was sleeping, something he obviously needed, and Clark wasn't about to wake him up. He had no option *but* to wait.

 

When Lex's eyes eventually did flicker open a little after midday, Clark was still watching him. Remembering the mental note he'd made earlier, he spoke immediately.

 

"You need to eat. And drink."

 

Turning his body to look at Clark, Lex blinked slowly. He didn't seem surprised. "Would you mind giving me a few minutes, Clark? I've just woken up. I very much doubt my digestive tract is even functioning yet."

 

It was like a physical blow to Clark's body, one that he could *feel*. Lex had just woken up in an apartment in the worst part of Metropolis, on the run for his life inside his father's *body*, but he was still so unrelentingly *Lex* that Clark didn't even know what he was going to do until it'd already happened.

 

"I love you."

 

Lex didn't look relaxed, or sarcastic anymore. Horrified that he'd somehow made things worse, Clark kept babbling. "The good thing...the only not entirely bad thing about all this is that it made me face up to how I feel about you. And not just since your father..." Okay, he really didn't need to mention that. "It just made me realise how I feel about you. How I have felt about you for a long time. It's so completely different to what I've ever felt for anyone, and I didn't-"

 

Lex was touching him. Lex's hand had reached out, palm pressed against the side of Clark's face, fingers splaying across Clark's neck.

 

Thumb slowly rubbing over Clark's mouth.

 

"Don't you think it's a good thing," Clark spoke to Lex's thumb, breath hitching - partly from the contact, part from the *look* Lex was giving him, "that I don't just love you for your body?"

 

It was probably the stupidest thing he'd ever said, but he felt breathless, and kryptonite had nothing on Lex touching him like this.

 

Lex was still looking at him. *Seeing* him.

 

And then he spoke.

 

"I have to dye my hair."

 

When Clark was left alone on the bed, he didn't move. He wasn't actually sure he could, so he stayed there, lying on his side until Lex returned.

 

Which was barely a minute later.

 

Looking up from the bed, Clark frowned. "You okay?"

 

"Shampooing is one thing," Lex sighed, "but I've never even touched hair dye before."

 

Clark knew what Lex was asking, and suddenly he was completely able to move.

 

*

 

Dyeing Lex's hair was very, very strange, but actually quite enjoyable. While he'd never be able to dye the 'real' Lex's hair, Clark felt ridiculously pleased at being allowed to grope any head that had Lex's mind inside. Plus, there was lots of body contact as he leant over and against Lex and-

 

Lionel's body. Lex was still in Lionel's body, only Clark wasn't as distracted by it as he had been yesterday. What if they never managed to get Lex back into his own body? Clark would have to get used to him like this, in more ways than one, because there was no way he was never making love to him.

 

After all, he'd all but said earlier than he didn't care what Lex looked like.

 

"Your face is flushed," Lex said, and Clark's hands went back to Lex's hair.

 

"It's hot in here."

 

"Hmm."

 

*

 

With the dark hair Lex looked even less like his father. After finally eating something to put Clark's mind at rest, he was now sitting on the end of the bed, working on the laptop that had also been stowed away inside the chest of drawers.

 

"Is there anything you don't have in there?" Clark asked.

 

"Lear jet," Lex shrugged. "Though I could probably get one here by tomorrow." A slow smile sneaked across Lex's mouth, though he didn't look up from his laptop.

 

Moving onto the bed, Clark rested his chin on Lex's shoulder to look at the screen. "What are you doing?"

 

"Arranging meetings with people who should be able to help."

 

"Good," Clark said. "When do we leave?" The shoulder tensed, and Clark's vaguely good mood vanished. He pulled back. "Lex..."

 

Sighing, Lex turned his head to the right slightly, though he didn't look all the way around. "They won't talk if they see someone else."

 

"I don't care. You're not going alone."

 

"Clark..."

 

He was absolutely not backing down. "No. I'll stay out of sight, somewhere where they can't see me. Somewhere where no one can see me." He studied the side of Lex's face, the unfamiliar dark head of hair. "But you're not going alone."

 

Moving to place the laptop on the bed beside him, Lex finally turned his body around. "I-"

 

"Besides," Clark interrupted. "They'll be expecting to see Lex Luthor anyway, right? So you're definitely going to need back up in case they overreact."

 

"I don't want you to get-"

 

"They can't hurt me, Lex." It seemed very, very important to be saying this right now. "And I won't let anyone hurt you."

 

Frowning curiously, Lex slowly extended a hand towards Clark's chest, though he didn't actually make contact. "I've seen you with...bruised ribs. And when you were up on the cross."

 

"The meteor rocks," Clark said quietly, making Lex finally look up from his chest. "They're the only thing that can hurt me. They..." Air whooshed out as he exhaled and said it. "...came with me."

 

Lex's frown deepened for a few seconds before his expression suddenly changed, his eyes widening as he realised. "*Oh*." To Clark's relief he wasn't backing away, and instead his hand finally reached Clark's chest and prodded at him through his shirt. "You're so human..."

 

Was it him, or did Lex seem a little breathless? "I figure it was intentional I was sent here. I'd be able to blend in, hopefully find someone to be with eventually..." Like, say, maybe the someone who was still poking his chest.

 

Unfortunately for Clark, that wasn't the part Lex focused on. "'Sent'?"

 

Of course. Of course that was what Lex would be interested in. "I had a spaceship. Well, it was more a pod really, and it wasn't very..." Lex had gone incredibly still. "...big. Uh, Lex?"

 

Drawing himself - and his hand - back, Lex stared at him. "You had a spaceship?"

 

Clark licked his lips, wondering if this was the point where Lex was going to freak out. "I had to destroy it...but...pod. Space pod."

 

Lex grinned. "Cool."

 

*

 

The meetings didn't go well.

 

The first one was in the back of a closed restaurant. Clark watched from the kitchen, through the wall, and had been a millisecond away from ruining everything when the guy Lex met pulled out a gun.

 

But Lex's hand went up just the way they'd arranged - a signal that meant that, for now, he could handle things without Clark's help.

 

And he did handle them. For a while. But eventually the guy Lex was talking to - Patrick, apparently, though Clark doubted that was his real name - shook his head heavily and walked out of the restaurant.

 

Two meetings the next night didn't go any better.

 

Three the night after that went even worse. It was becoming obvious that the more people they met, the further down the barrel Lex was scraping in terms of personality. When he barely managed to stop a blonde with killer heels from cutting Lex's ear off, Clark knew it had to stop. The fact that Lex was more fascinated with the way the knife had crumpled against Clark's chest rather than being worried by the threat to his life only made Clark even more paranoid.

 

Still, once they were far from the scene that didn't stop Lex's anger from boiling over.

 

"Shit!" He yelled when they were back in the apartment, yanking his jacket off and throwing it across the room. "You know I always tried to plan for every eventuality." He swung around, anger rolling from his face. "But I always thought that, if I did have to go into hiding someday, I'd at least have my own fucking face!"

 

A perfectly reasonable expectation.

 

Clark knew what he had to do. Stepping forward he grabbed Lex's shoulders and used his strength - nearly all his strength - to hold him still. "Lex."

 

Lex winced. "What?"

 

Clark didn't let go. He didn't want to do this. He really didn't want to do this, but it'd been on his mind since the first meeting had gone bad, and he wasn't going to let Lex meet up with anyone else in a dank alley in the middle of the night.

 

There was a Clark's way, after all. It just hadn't been what he thought.

 

"I think I know someone who can help."

 

*

 

The line was endless, but it always was. Clark ignored it, heading straight for the front. The building was huge, the music loud, and Clark tried to convince himself that he knew what he was doing.

 

He had to. He had to at least look like he knew precisely what he was doing.

 

The thought made him pause, and Lex stumbled to a stop next to him.

 

"Clark?"

 

Knowing it was necessary, Clark turned to look at him. "Lex, when we're in there..."

 

Lex frowned. "Yes?"

 

Clark hesitated. It was the last time he'd allow himself that tonight. "You won't be pretending to be my father anymore." He held his hand out deliberately, adding to the meaning.

 

Lex understood it. Lex's hand slid into his, and he nodded firmly. "You don't have to do this."

 

Clark had closed his eyes for one last moment, but when he opened them again he grinned broadly. "You have no idea what I'm capable of, Lex."

 

He turned away, then, pulling Lex with him, and pushed through the front of the crowd. With Lex Luthor's hand in his, a huge smile on his face and music thumping in his ears, Kal walked into Atlantis.

 

*

 

Atlantis hadn't changed. Kal hadn't really expected it to - if there was one thing that was a constant, other than what he could do, it was the endless mass of bodies. Writhing, rubbing, groping - it was all about the *need* and precisely why he'd always melted into it, like he was returning to wherever it was he'd come from.

 

But the hand still clinging to his reminded him that he had another purpose tonight.

 

Intent on only one thing, Kal pushed through the chaos, heading for the back tables to get the information he needed. There was a tug on his hand, his arm, then, and though Kal didn't stop for anyone he paused and turned around.

 

"Clark," Lex said firmly, although he should have known by now that he'd be heard over the music, "if we go straight there it'll arouse suspicion. We should take the time to assess their current level of security."

 

Kal had never cared much for reason, but knew there was a point to what Lex was saying. Still, some things obviously had to be made clear. Tightening his hold, seeing the wince and pleased by it, Kal pulled Lex towards him until their bodies were flush together. "My name is Kal."

 

Clark Kent couldn't exist, didn't exist, so Kal turned away and moved towards the bar.

 

A space cleared out for them - the people standing there didn't have much choice - and soon Kal was leaning against the bar ordering drinks for both of them.

 

The bartender hadn't changed, either, and though Kal had never bothered to remember his name, the guy grinned in recognition. "Kal, my man! Where you been?"

 

Pulling Lex closer, Kal released his hold only to wrap his arm around Lex's waist; hand splaying across Lex's hip, thumb toying with the top of his pants. "Busy."

 

Lex didn't tense up and relaxed into Kal's hold, bodies pressing warmly against each other.

 

"So I see," the guy smirked, placing their drinks in front of them. "Welcome back."

 

Grunting, Kal pulled out some money and threw it onto the bar, then with his free hand picked up his glass and downed the contents in one go. He'd always heard that it was supposed to burn on the way down, but not for Kal. The alcohol slid smoothly down his throat, like it was made to be there, made to be a part of him.

 

It would have felt even more so had it had any kind of effect on him at all.

 

There was a mirror behind the bar - a new addition since his last visit - and as Kal lowered the glass he studied their reflection. The clothes they'd bought earlier fit in with their surroundings better than anything they'd brought with them from Smallville. Kal was wearing black pants and a dark blue shirt much like the one he'd worn on his last visit, and Lex was almost wearing the type of clothes he usually wore around the mansion - dark pants, purple shirt. The main difference was that the shirt was unbuttoned further than usual and where normally there would be smooth skin, hair covered his chest.

 

It amused Kal. "Quite a pair, don't you think?" His mouth moved to Lex's ear, his gaze still focused on their image. "Everyone here thinks I'm fucking a man more than twice my age."

 

Lex didn't smile, didn't frown; instead his hand shifted until it was pressing against Kal's back, rubbing gently. Slowly. Tender.

 

Kal's amusement fled and he growled, pulling Lex against him hard. "Stop it." Kal didn't like gentle; Kal didn't *need* gentle. "You're touching me like I'll break, like I don't know what I'm doing." Anger radiated through his body. He didn't need doubt, or hesitation. He had a clear purpose, a goal, and he knew what to do to achieve it. "Do you think I'm not capable of this?"

 

Lex's expression changed, shifted, as he stared at Kal's reflection. "Quite the opposite," he replied, and then he was pressing his mouth to Kal's neck, hot breath against equally hot skin. "You really do want to fuck me, don't you Kal?"

 

Turning, Kal did what he did best - he *took*. Pressing Lex against the bar where it had to hurt and not caring, sliding his hands down to cup Lex's ass, lowering his head and just took and took and *took*.

 

Fighting against him but not trying to pull away, Lex pushed and kissed and groped, muttering obscenities that only made Kal move faster, harder.

 

The bartender said something but Kal only broke away to snarl at him, then moved his mouth back to the flesh of Lex's throat and Lex was saying something new, breathless, and through the need he was able to figure out what it was.

 

"-eady Kal, you're ready. Do it. Get what you need. Tear the fucking building down. Show them who the fuck they're dealing with. Show them-"

 

Pulling away, grabbing Lex's wrist, Kal dove through the crowd.

 

It'd been a test before, Kal understood now. He should have been annoyed but instead the *power* was coarsing through him like he was wearing the ring again, and they didn't need to worry about security. They both knew he could take out anyone who got in their way.

 

He moved to the back of the club, to the tables there, and pushed aside security like they didn't exist. The tables cleared out except for one, and though they tried to look brave, every single one of them reached for a weapon.

 

Kal stopped moving. "I'm here to see whoever's in charge." Lex was close beside him, their arms brushing together. Nobody moved. "Come on," Kal taunted. "Someone must have taken over since Morgan died." Someone would have taken over or absorbed Morgan's power and contacts, and with that, access to information.

 

Releasing Lex's wrist he stepped closer to the table, leaning down with his hand pressing on the back of some guy's chair. "You know, I was there when Morgan died," he leaned well into the guy's personal space, grinning. "I'm sure that gives me special dispensation."

 

A girl on the other side of the table stood up, drawing his attention. "You may be right. I'll go see what I can do." She was brave, this one, as she turned and walked towards a door behind them. Kal considered fucking her later.

 

"*Mine*."

 

A hand clamped down on his shoulder and Kal turned his head, amused. "You think you own me?" The idea was laughable.

 

"I just know what's mine," Lex retorted, hand tightening, "and you're not for sharing."

 

Standing up and making Lex's hand fall away, Kal shook his head. "No need to be jealous." Lifting up his own hand, he rubbed it firmly over Lex's hair and imagined smoothness there instead. "I'd *always* come back to you afterwards."

 

Lex wasn't amused. "Not stinking of someone else's come, you won't."

 

"You'd have to make me smell of yours then, wouldn't you?" Kal moved towards him, but then that girl was talking again, standing in the open doorway.

 

"He'll see you now."

 

She was ignoring Lex like he was nothing but Kal's plaything. It was a mistake but one they could use, so Kal turned back to look at him. "Stay here." Lex didn't argue although Kal could tell he wanted to, and as Kal walked by the table he gave them The Look that said 'you touch him and I come back to kill you later. Painfully.'

 

Unlike the rest of the club the room was pale, bright; cream walls with pale green furniture. Kal's confidence didn't fail even when the door closed behind him and Morgan Edge was standing in front of him.

 

"Morgan," he greeted, keeping the surprise out of his voice. "And I thought you were dead." Although actually, this could be useful. He already knew Morgan, so maybe it'd be easier to get the information he needed.

 

"Kal," Morgan responded, voice lilting. "Did you think I hadn't been planning for this? That I hadn't expected you to come back eventually?" Stepping closer, he smiled. "I knew that town wouldn't be able to hold you for long. You were always so much...bigger, than that."

 

Still not worried but starting to feel confused, Kal switched to x-ray vision to start a search, but someone was already opening a lead box and his vision blacked out.

 

The familiar, sickening roll of kryptonite pounded through his body making Kal fall to his knees. He could barely make out the sound of movement, somewhere, and then he was being attacked from all sides. Fists, feet, bats; again and again they struck and he tried to fight back but the kryptonite was making him nauseous, useless and he retched on the floor, tasting his own blood even as they kept hitting.

 

Morgan called them off eventually, leaving Kal groaning on the floor. He tried to push away, tried to move from wherever the kryptonite was but he was against a wall already and there was nowhere else to go.

 

Lex. Lex had to get out, had to finish Lionel by himsel-

 

Leaning over him, Morgan studied him carefully. "What did you come here for, Kal? I'll admit you've proven useful before, but it became clear to me a long time ago that you're far more trouble than you're worth." Pulling his gun free from somewhere, Morgan aimed it squarely at Kal's head.

 

Cursing, body aching, Kal started trying to crawl away, still pressed against the wall, and heard Morgan's gun cock.

 

The bang, when it came, wasn't what he expected.

 

Someone had burst into the room and then there were the bangs he *had* expected, lots of them, and Kal just threw his arms over his face and groaned as his body complained. He was pathetic, useless, and when the room feel silent - or as silent as any place in the club was - he lowered his arms.

 

The door was closed again. Lex was standing inside it, holding a gun, a smear of blood across his left cheek. Bodies - the bodies of Morgan's men - littered the floor. Morgan himself was standing up, his hands held out in supplication.

 

"Morgan," Lex said breathlessly, "would you mind explaining what you're doing to my very dear friend?"

 

It took him a few moments, but eventually Morgan recognised who was standing in front of him. "Lionel." He looked suprised, even though he was probably trying to hide it - a familiar sight lately. "Last I heard you were sick, old friend."

 

Shrugging with his gun still raised, Lex stepped closer. "And last *I* heard *you* were dead. I suppose this only goes to show that you should never believe anything you hear."

 

Morgan frowned, and even through the pain Clark knew the cause of the confusion.

 

"It was your men who shot me, Lionel. You had every reason to think I was dead."

 

Lex didn't even frown. "I never truly believed it, Morgan. A man of your magnitude could never be brought down by mere bullets." Slowly moving to the side of the room Kal was at, he bent down carefully, gaze flicking between Kal and Morgan. "I am disappointed, however, at how you've been treating Kal." Reaching out, Lex placed his free hand on his chest. "He's such a," hand sliding lower, he rubbed over Kal's groin, "*valuable* resource." Lex held his gaze then, just for a moment, and despite the kryptonite Kal felt stronger.

 

"So you discovered the source eventually," Morgan stated carefully.

 

Lex's head tipped slightly as he looked at Kal, a silent question.

 

Wiping the back of a hand across his mouth, Kal lingered deliberately on the blood.

 

"Eventually," Lex nodded, standing up to face Morgan properly. "He was...troublesome, at first, but we have a mutually beneficial arrangement now, don't we, Kal?" He didn't look back as he spoke, keeping his gun trained on Morgan.

 

Kal grunted.

 

Lex chuckled, and shrugged. "With some occasional ownership issues." He moved again, this time to the other side of the room, carefully stepping over the men he'd killed - although given the concentration of firearms in the enclosed space, Kal wouldn't have been surprised if some of them had killed each other.

 

Realising that Lex was going for the kryptonite, Kal shifted slightly in anticipation, though the resulting dizziness stopped him immediately. Being human *hurt*.

 

The kryptonite, having been dropped amid the shooting, had fallen out of its box. It lay on the floor, glowing brightly, surrounded by blood.

 

Watching, Kal realised that Lex was looking away from Morgan only for as long as was absolutely necessary, as he lowered himself down and moved the box with his free hand until it was right-side-up. Then, still eyeing Morgan carefully, Lex placed the kryptonite in the box and flicked the lid shut.

 

Power coursed through Kal instantly: muscles clenching, strength returning. It was *good*. He would never, ever, get tired of feeling this way. Pushing away from the wall he stood up, bruises vanishing, wounds disappearing, and when he looked to the other side of the room Lex was smiling.

 

Licking his lips, the taste of his own blood strong on his tongue, Kal stepped towards Morgan. It was easy - his hand reached out almost of its own accord, wrapping around Morgan's neck, lifting, and pushing him against the wall a few feet behind him.

 

Morgan struggled, of course, pulling at Kal's hand, fighting against the hold.

 

Lex quietly stepped in front of him. "We came here for a reason, Morgan, regardless of whether you were alive or not: information. My son has been working against me. As I'm supposed to be in hiding, I don't have access to the information network I once did. For the sake of our..." Pausing, he smirked. "...friendship, I'm asking for your help."

 

Morgan was starting to turn an interesting shade of purple, but Kal waited until Lex nodded at him before relaxing his hold, letting Morgan's body slide down until his feet touched the floor, allowing him to breathe.

 

Still, Kal wasn't about to let go completely, and once Morgan was down Kal's hand tightened its hold, the goal this time being immobilisation instead of suffocation.

 

"Which...son?" Morgan spat out, grinning harshly.

 

Kal had to admire his balls. If not his sense of humour.

 

"Lex," Lex replied, in what would have been a surreal moment for almost anyone else. "I suppose you could say my hospitalisation wasn't entirely due to natural reasons. Wasn't due to *any* natural reasons." Lowering the gun now that it was no longer necessary, he let his left arm fall to his side. "Anything you've heard," he murmured. "Anything your people have found. Anything at all that might help me. I'd be grateful it you'd share the information with me, Morgan. I'm sure you're aware of how...appreciative, I can be."

 

Still seeming amused by something, Morgan choked out a response from his bruised throat. "I'll tell you something I've noticed, Lionel: Kal's led a very interesting life. Saved your son's life, didn't he?" Lex stepped back, gun raising again. Kal's hand twitched. "In fact, as far as I recall from my investigation, that's how they met. Became best friends. Did everything together."

 

Kal hadn't expected this. Kal hadn't even expected him to be alive, but then if Morgan had already been protecting himself with the kryptonite, it made sense he would have investigated Kal's past, too.

 

People like Morgan didn't leave things to chance.

 

"Kal saved a lot of people when he was Clark Kent," Morgan continued, and Kal squeezed harder at the use of that name. "He-" Morgan gasped. "-was adopted through an organisation called Metropolis United Charities, which seems to have connections to you. It only ran long enough for the one case. He does well in all his classes, except biology, and he's frequently late for school despite his abilities. He writes for the school newspaper, almost as much as he ends up in it himself. His parents were saved from losing the farm only when Lex paid it off and gave them the deed. When his adopted mother was working for you, it caused great consternation in the Kent family. And there seems to be some ongoing dispute between the two of you and the local caves. Kal may be *many* things," he paused, panting heavily, "but he's no friend of Lionel Luthor's. Add to that," Morgan grinned again, "the fact that Lionel would *never* get his own hands dirty, even when in hiding and...well, I think there's something you've been keeping from me, Lex."

 

*

 

Kal's first instinct was to grip harder, crush the neck he was holding. And it'd be good, he knew, seeing the broken flesh, seeing Morgan's lifeless head loll forward because Morgan *knew*, and no one was going to hurt Lex ever again.

 

No one but Kal.

 

Lex being Lex, he didn't even bother looking surprised. "The situation hasn't changed, Mr Edge. I still require information about anything I've allegedly been involved with lately. I know that - when you were alive at least," he stepped a little closer, smirking, "you must have been getting reports on anything the Luthors were even suspected of being involved with. It's the way our world works. Nothing is truly secret, anymore. Although I have to admit," he looked down at Morgan's body briefly, "you did a very good job of keeping your own resurrection quiet."

 

"Contingency plan," Morgan explained, still breathing shallowly. "I'm surprised you didn't have one."

 

"I did," Lex explained. "I just foolishly presumed I'd have my own face when I used it."

 

Smiling almost proudly at something, Morgan laughed then coughed. "Lionel always was inventive."

 

Not caring for the compliment to Lionel any more than Clark did, Lex spoke again, nostrils flaring. "You have a choice, Mr Edge. You can help us, tell us anything you've heard about me and leave the club a wounded but happy man. Or," tipping his head to one side, he lowered his head and looked up at Morgan, "you can *not*."

 

Kal's arm, impatient with nothing to do, flexed again.

 

Morgan gasped. "You get your boy here to lighten up, and maybe I'll see what I can do."

 

Ridiculous. Morgan was trying to negotiate, as if he was in the position to be able to do that. But then Lex caught Kal's gaze, and Kal *got it*. Morgan had no power but they had to give him at least the illusion of it. They had to let him think he had the upper hand, that they wouldn't be able to accomplish anything at all without him.

 

That, despite the fact that Kal had his hand wrapped around the guy's throat, they were at Morgan's mercy.

 

It figured. Everyone lately got off on power, even Kal. Just in a different way to the others.

 

So, even though his mind was still screaming at him to keep squeezing, Kal loosened his hold. Pulling his hand free, he wiped the sweat from Morgan's skin onto his jeans.

 

"Now," Morgan said carefully, hand raising protectively to hover over his reddened neck, "let's see if we can't have a civilised conversation."

 

*

 

It wasn't as much as Kal had hoped. Or at least that's what he figured from the little he'd seen. Right now he really wasn't in the mood to read over paperwork, even if his speed meant it wouldn't take long.

 

Since getting someone to take the bodies out of the room, Morgan was now hunched over a table that'd been turned right side up with Lex, looking over the contents of a file he'd had the girl from outside bring him from somewhere.

 

Lex and Morgan. Morgan and Lex. Talking, conspiring and laughing now, like they were old friends instead of one step away from being enemies.

 

Kal couldn't *think* right now. He couldn't sit and discuss and plan; he'd wanted to hurt Morgan only he hadn't so he needed to move instead. He moved and moved and moved, until he was literally walking a hole into the floor and then he grunted and started towards the door.

 

Lex was by him almost instantly, grabbing his arm. "Where are you going?"

 

"To the club." Move and thrive and pulse and pound. He needed that, yanking his arm away.

 

"You're staying here." Lex's voice made it an order.

 

Bristling, Kal glared. "Fuck you."

 

"All right," Lex replied simply, grabbing Kal by the shirt and spinning him around until his back thumped against the nearest wall. Surprised by the move Kal's mouth fell open and Lex was on it instantly, tongue thrusting inside.

 

Kal moved into it just as quickly, hands slapping at Lex's clothes, body, caring only about what'd get him off fastest. Lex's ass was under his hands, and Kal angled it just right, breaking off the blood-tinged kiss to curse.

 

The kiss resumed as they ground against each other, but it was wrong, something was wrong now, and Kal realised it was the stubble growing from Lex's skin. Moving his mouth to Lex's neck had the same problem - Lex's hair, short as it was, kept brushing against his face - so Kal was left with only one course of action.

 

Grabbing Lex's shirt by the collar with one hand, he literally ripped it to the side, exposing a few inches of Lex's shoulder.

 

*Perfect*.

 

Mouthing the smooth skin, Kal groaned as he thrust harder still and it was so good, so fucking good, and he didn't fucking care that Morgan was there watching as he clung to Lex's body and came.

 

Something near his ear - Lex's voice - murmuring about sex and power, and Kal breathed heavily as he licked one last stripe across Lex's shoulder and lifted his head. "Is it what we want?"

 

Drawing his face scant millimetres away, Lex frowned. "What?"

 

"What Morgan has." He pawed at Lex's back, the hold not especially kind because that wasn't who he was. "Is it what we want? Will it help?"

 

"Yes." Lex's mouth, biting at his throat almost absently.

 

He could almost pretend he didn't feel the stubble as the face moved against his skin. "Want me to kill him?"

 

"No." A longer bite, harder, though they both knew no mark would remain. "Keeping people like Morgan around can be useful." He chuckled into Kal's neck. "For a while."

 

It took Kal a few moments to realise he was trembling. Fuck, fuck, *fuck*. No. "We have to go. Now." Fuck.

 

Lex didn't question it, pulling away to turn to Morgan, not caring that he'd just fucked Clark against the wall. "You've been very useful, Mr Edge. I know I'll owe you for this."

 

"Yes," Morgan replied, just as at ease as Lex was, Kal's finger marks a purple stain around his neck, "you will."

 

That was it, then, their business with Morgan apparently done as Lex picked up the file from the table and walked towards the door with Kal by his side.

 

"Lex," Morgan drawled, despite the hoarseness of his voice, "a word of advice."

 

Turning slowly, they both regarded him suspiciously, but Lex was the only one who spoke. "Mr Edge?"

 

Eyes all but brimming with humour, Morgan slipped both hands into the pockets of his pants. "You're wearing Lionel Luthor's face," Kal watched Morgan - injured, amused, and more dangerous than he'd ever been. "Use it."

 

TBC

This amazing cover was made by Digitalwave. Thank you, thank you!

leave a comment // e-mail // sv fic