Season of Disbelief

by a campbell

Clark Kent/Lex Luthor

____________________

I

“You know,” Lex said easily, leaning slim arms on the rail of the penthouse balcony and favoring Clark with a lazy grin. “We’re going to have to stay friends if you go into reporting as a full-time job. You won’t be able to afford to buy anything on your own on that salary. You’re going to need me to help you out.” He smiled again, sleekly luminous in the golden noonday light, and Clark thought, how good it is to be together again, here, alone.

Laughing, he steadied himself on the rail. “Come on, Lex. As if that made any difference!” Lex laughed, too, then, and lifted a slender hand to ruffle Clark’s dark locks. Clark grinned, and then stretched lazily, taking a deep breath of the fall air.
They had rolled out of bed barely an hour before after their first night together in over two weeks,

The last Saturday afternoon in September, and so warm that the two friends had shed their sweaters and were now clad only in light shirts and slacks. Killing some time after their late breakfast was essential if they were to avoid arriving too early for Metropolis University’s first football game of the season. Lex continued to chuckle, and ducked the fake-swing Clark aimed at him. Clark let his grin linger for a moment, then sighed.

“Okay, so, why don’t reporters make more money, anyway?” he wondered. “It’s one of the worst-paid jobs there is. What’s your explanation?”

“Guess most people think, mistakenly, that information comes cheap,” said Lex. “And, they don’t place enough dollar-value on the worth of unbiased reporting and the free marketplace of ideas. Priorities. Often misplaced. Those who go into that profession usually do it because they love it. Not to make money, and everyone knows it, including the people who pay them. It’s in the blood.” Lex leaned against the pillar, regarding Clark with cool affection. “But, if it’s what you really want to do, what can anyone say?”

“I’ll do okay,” said Clark with a smug grin. “For one thing, I’m used to being poor. For another, and a lot of it’s because of that, I’m a good money manager. I can make twenty bucks last a week. Not like you. I mean, you’re good at managing thousands of dollars for business purposes, but you can’t make your self-imposed allowance come out in the black, ever.”

“Yes,” said Lex with a shrug. “And, isn’t it great that I don’t have to? I can just pull from another account. Seriously, though, I want to help you in any way I can.”

“I’ll be fine, Lex,” Clark insisted. “Don’t worry. I have faith in myself.” It warmed his heart that Lex still cared about him, but it was time for him to do it on his own.

“It’s well-placed,” said Lex, holding him with a steady gaze. “I know you’ll do well, whatever field you choose.”

Clark smiled, and laced fingers through Lex’s. With his other hand, he held Lex’s face steady and moved in for a kiss. Long and wet. When it broke, Clark whispered. “Thanks for believing in me.”

They stood a few moments without speaking, savoring the sunshine and warm fall air. Lex leaned over idly to pull a leaf from the bank of coleus in the balcony planter, dropped it over the side, and watched it drift down to street level. Clark wasn’t sure if he imagined, or if he really heard Lex say, “I could say the same.”

“But you know I’d really like you to work for me,” he went on. “Before long, I’ll be branching out into my own corporation. It would be an excellent opportunity for both of us.”

“I know, Lex. But the corporate-business world isn’t for me.”

“Name your position. Communications, publications, public relations. We can match it to your interests.” Lex’s gaze burned with intensity, but he suddenly caught himself, and eased off. “Anyway,” he continued, smiling lightly, “the offer still stands. And will continue to, in case you change your mind. After all, it’s only the start of your sophomore year.”

Clark smiled and shook his head. They stood for a few moments without speaking, watching the stop and flow of afternoon traffic on the streets below.

“Just don’t turn down the offer because you don’t want to be in my debt,” Lex finished after the pause. “I want to help.”

“Lex,” Clark protested, “we’re way past that. But, we should each have our own careers. We’ll be happier. I can’t be in your shadow all the time.”

“Don’t forget, though,” cautioned Lex, hoisting himself up to sit on the balcony rail. “Business casual looks great on you.”

“Well, good, ‘cause that’s what I’ll be wearing at the Planet, too.” Clark responded with a slow, warm grin, and their eyes locked in one of those gazes that .

Lex broke the spell by sliding off the rail to his feet again. “I suppose, before long, you’ll be too busy for these weekend get-togethers,” He didn’t look at Clark as he spoke.

“Lex,” Clark said seriously, turning to lay a hand on Lex’s arm. “Nothing will change when I go to the Planet. I’ll still be the same person, and we’ll still be together. You’ll stay the most important part of my life.”

Lex turned to regard him seriously for a moment, not attempting to hide the raw desire in his gaze. He reached out a hand to touch the smooth skin of Clark’s cheek, and then let it drop.

“Don’t,” said Clark, seizing the hand in both of his. “You know how I feel.” He raised Lex’s slim hand to his mouth and caressed it with half-open lips.

Lex caught his breath, and held Clark’s gaze for a moment. Then he smiled, and the easy demeanor returned. “Thanks, Clark. I hope you’re right about that,” he said briskly, looking at his watch. “We’d better get on the road soon. You know what the traffic is bound to be like. Though I’m not sure I want your team to win. They did kick me out, after all.”

II

Later that night, Clark, still dressed, dozed on the plush carpet in Lex’s penthouse bedroom, weary after the excitement of the afternoon and the freshness of the fall air. Lex lounged lazily beside him, clad only in his drawstring-pajama bottoms.

“You’ve been pretty quiet since this afternoon,” Clark’s eyes slowly dropped shut. “Are you okay?”

“Do you know what you mean to me?” Lex murmured, unbuttoning the collar of Clark’s shirt and trailing one finger idly down the bare, exposed skin.

“I think so,” Clark breathed sleepily, his stomach doing a little flip at Lex’s words. “All I have to do is think of what you mean to me.”

“You’ve helped me define myself, these past few years,” Lex continued quietly, almost as if he were speaking to himself. “If I’m not mistaken, I’ve become a better person, thanks to you. Maybe there’s hope, after all.”

Clark smiled, and felt for Lex’s hand, his eyes still closed. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Lex. But, it has been great, these past few years, having someone to love. It’s defined me, too. And, I do love you, Lex.” He raised Lex’s hand to his lips and peppered soft kisses over the fingers.

“Mmmm. Yeah…” Lex closed his eyes and sighed, savoring the sensation. “Don’t ever leave me, Clark.”

Clark gave Lex’s hand a parting squeeze, and sat abruptly up on an elbow. “Say it, Lex, come on. I know it’s hard for you, but you can do it. Say you love me, too.”

“Okay,” said Lex, humorously reluctant. “I love you. Boy, that was hard.” He chuckled, then sobered suddenly. “No,” he continued, “I do love you, Clark. Believe me.”

Lex’s words kindled a warm glow around Clark’s heart) He continued more quietly,“If you hadn’t been here when my dad died last year, I don’t know…” He sighed heavily. “It was rough.”

“I know,” said Lex. “Unexpected. Hard on everyone in Smallville. Not that your dad couldn’t be pigheaded, but he was a fine man.”

“I miss him,” said Clark, as that familiar bleak, sinking feeling settled in his chest. Jonathan’s death had left a void nothing could fill.

Lex allowed a few moments of silence, and then chucked him in the ribs. “So, I’m a father figure? That’s why you love me?”

Clark smiled. “Yeah, right. You know why, and how, I love you. But, I still really miss him.”

“I know,” said Lex. “You were lucky to have a father like him. I can’t imagine…”

“I was,” Clark agreed. If he could have spared Lex a father like Lionel, he’d have done anything.

Lex smiled sleepily and put an arm around Clark, who had turned over to lie on his back, his hands behind his head. Clark put his hand on Lex’s arm, frowned thoughtfully for a moment more, and then made an effort to shake off his somber mood.

“So, next week—the Planet. Think they’re ready for me, Lex?” He turned to burrow into Lex’s shoulder, chuckling.

“We’ll find out,” Lex said smoothly. “They may not know what they’re in for.” He leaned over Clark for a deep kiss and was enfolded in strong arms.

“Chloe would be jealous,” Clark mumbled, after catching his breath.

“Way to break the mood, Clark,” Lex swiped the back of his palm across his mouth with a rueful sigh. “First, your dad, then my dad, now Chloe. Well, Chloe’s at the New York Times now, so I doubt she’ll have the time or the inclination to be that envious.”

“Still…” said Clark.

“Or, did you mean: jealous that you’ve got me, and she doesn’t.”

Clark snorted with laughter.

“And, yes, Jonathan would be proud, too,” Lex mused. “It’s going to be a big step, Clark. Trust me, I’m afraid that, pretty soon, you’ll be too busy to hang out with an old, bald millionaire.” Lex’s eyes twinkled, in spite of his pensive expression. He trailed a slim finger idly down Clark’s chest once again, letting his voice go sleek yet husky. “How can I make sure that doesn’t happen?”

“Just keep doing that,” Clark chuckled, quivering and squirming a little at the ticklish sensation. “Besides, you’re not old. Not yet.”

“Maybe I should prove it,” Lex whispered, bending to press his open lips to the curling dark hair on Clark’s chest. He fumbled with Clark’s shirt buttons again. “Take this off,” he demanded impatiently, with a helpless shrug of his shoulders.

Clark laughed, and began to undo the rest of the buttons.

“That’s better,” Lex observed, cool and assessing, pushing the shirt open wide at last. Clark let himself fall back at the floor and let his legs fall open. Lex mouthed Clark’s chest, stomach, and navel, being wet and sloppy on purpose, and Clark felt a helpless giggle rising in his throat.

“Well, that certainly made you hard really fast,” Lex laughed after a moment, brushing a hand down the front of Clark’s slacks.

“Yeah, well…” said Clark, his hand wandering down to stroke himself through the cloth. Right about where he wanted Lex’s mouth. “What did you expect?”

Lex sighed, letting his eyes go dreamy and half-closed. “Let’s do something about it, then.”

Clark smiled lazily. “About time.”

He maneuvered Lex onto his back and claimed his mouth with a breathless kiss.

III

Later, Lex laughed, rolling over to lie on his stomach. “When is the actual starting date?

“October 1st. But, I have to spend a little time there this week, getting set up and organized. I’m getting my own desk, and everything! Can you believe it?”

“Wow,” Lex chuckled dryly.

Clark’s voice rose with excitement as he continued. “Also have to meet with the other staff reporter I’ll be working with. Her name is Lane. Lois Lane.”

“Hmmm. I’ve read her stuff. Very good.”

“Guess she hasn’t been there very long, either, but she’s advanced pretty fast. She’ll be training me, showing me the ropes. Don’t think she’s too keen on it right now, but I’ll win her over. You know how charming I can be, right, Lex?” Clark sat up, bent over Lex, and began pressing soft kisses down his bare shoulder and back.

“Right,” Lex breathed, stretching lazily. “Just don’t charm her too much. I don’t need the competition.” Clark noticed how tired his voice sounded, and hesitated a moment before continuing.

“One of the first things we’ll be doing together is a week-long program for middle-school kids on developing writing skills with an eye toward future work in journalism.”

“Sounds terrifying to me,” Lex observed. “But you like kids, so it should be fun.”

“How about coming in and giving us a presentation some day, on some aspect of Lexcorp they might find interesting. Maybe on those publications/employee communications departments. Might win me a few brownie points with my mentor.”

“Not me,” said Lex, shaking his head as he sat up and leaned back against the couch. “I’ll send someone else. I’m not so good with them. Kids, I mean. I’m okay with presentations.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” protested Clark. “Look at you and Ben.”

“Don’t let Lionel hear you call him that,” Lex said dryly. “It’s Charles.”

“Well, that’s what you call him when Lionel’s not around, and, I like it.” The name was simpler, fit the child better than the stuffy “Charles Anthony” Lionel had selected upon his birth. “Anyway, you do okay together. More than okay. He’s crazy about you.”

Though Lex looked mildly amused for a moment, the standard shuttered expression came down over his face, and he didn’t meet Clark’s eyes. “Yeah,” he said shortly, “Can’t imagine why, though.”

“I think you’re good for him,” Clark observed. “We always have fun together playing with him, don’t we? He laps it up.”

Lex snorted. “He’s just starved for masculine attention. Lionel’s always too busy or not around. God, don’t I remember what that was like. My dad’s getting older, now, too—hardly up to demands for attention from a preschooler. He wasn’t even good at that twenty years ago.”

“Maybe. And it’s not like Victoria pays much attention to him, either.” Clark’s gaze darkened. He’d disliked Victoria from the beginning, no less as Lex’s stepmother than as his girlfriend.

“Yeah, she did better at first, when he was like a new toy, but, now…she’s usually otherwise engaged. Thank goodness for Margaret. She takes good care of him, and he’s probably better off, anyway.”

“What’s been keeping Victoria so busy?” Clark wondered. “It’s not like Lionel lets her make any important decisions at the executive level. Or even at the domestic level.” He gave a wry chuckle.

“I’m not positive, but I don’t think it’s much. She was good at dropping cryptic comments, but, so far, she’s just seemed to be bluffing. She’s just enjoying being the wife of a billionaire. Travelling, shopping, freedom…money.” Lex half-smothered a derisive chuckle.

“Still,” continued Clark, “It’s good for Ben that you can provide some stability, and probably good for you, too. You just need to give yourself more of a chance to bond with him. At least, when you get some time together. You know, that kid brother you never had? Good practice for when you have kids of your own.” Clark waited for him to speak further, but Lex said nothing. “After all, you spend more time at the town house, now, working with Lionel. It’s the perfect opportunity.”

Lex shrugged in discomfort, and his voice was clipped when he spoke “It’s not my job, Clark.”

“Well,” Clark insisted, “Maybe it should be.”

Lex passed a hand uneasily over his bare scalp. “Just what I need: more demands on my time. Thanks, Clark,” he muttered.

Clark sighed, and, sitting up, placed both hands on Lex’s arms. “Lex, come on,” he urged, “You do this every time.”

Lex didn’t answer, but one slim hand fidgeted, and then clenched.

Clark wondered briefly if he should say it, and then decided. “You’ll never admit it, but I know you’re really Ben’s father.”

A brief, uncomfortable smile. “Where is this coming from, Clark?” said Lex, thinning his lips, not meeting Clark’s eyes.

“From several years ago. I knew it then and I’m even more sure of it now. Because he’s just like you. Anyone would have to be blind not to see it.”

“Clark,” Lex said steadily. “Have you been checked lately for glasses?”

“I have glasses,” Clark protested. “I just don’t wear them very often. Come on, Lex. Level with me. I won’t tell anyone, I promise. Trust me. Tell me. I just want to hear you say it.”

Lex rolled over on his stomach, and his voice was tense and tight when he responded. “*Why*”

“Because I love you,” said Clark. “Because I want you to be honest with me. I want to know everything about you, share everything with you. I want you to own yourself, own Ben, if he’s yours. If Lionel wanted him enough to assume parentage, okay, as far as everyone else is concerned, but at least be honest with yourself, and with me.”

Lex sighed, biting his lip. “I love you, too, Clark. But there’s no way we can share everything. No one can. And I don’t want to talk about this.” He hesitated, and took a quick breath. “I can’t.”

Clark hesitated, frowning, and opened his mouth to continue, but Lex cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“I have nothing to say, Clark,” he finished. “Now, drop it, and let’s go to bed.”

Clark bit his lip, but said nothing further as he got to his feet. He knew that, if Lex spoke again, it would be to change the subject. Times like this made him painfully aware of how little he really knew about Lex.

IV

Lights were starting to wink on in dormitory windows as Lex’s car pulled up outside Clark’s building Sunday evening.

Clark leaned over and brushed his lips against Lex’s. “Thanks,” he said. “It was fun. When can we do it again?” He tried not to feel too downcast now that the weekend was over. He usually did okay without Lex from day to day, but after spending time together again, he hated to say goodbye.

“Probably not until later next month,” said Lex. He glanced at his watch and Clark thought, with a twist at his heart, that Lex seemed already to have disengaged.

“Next month!” Clark repeated, shocked. “Why so long?”

“I’m leaving for Japan on Friday. Business. I’ll be gone for three and a half weeks.”

“Doing what?” Clark couldn’t talk himself out of feeling troubled and hurt.

“Can’t discuss it yet, Clark. Classified info. Don’t look at me like that.”

“That’s an awfully long time. How about I come and visit you halfway through? If you can afford it, that is.” Clark chuckled.

“Not a good idea,” said Lex shortly. “This is too important. I’ll be in meetings almost around the clock. I won’t have any time or energy to focus on anything else. We can go back together later and do it right. Maybe in the spring, or even over Christmas.”

Clark frowned. “What does Lionel say about your being in Japan so long? I thought he wanted you to start—“

Lex took a deep breath of the crisp evening air and smiled hazily at Clark. “Lionel doesn’t know,” he admitted. “And, if he tries to contact you, don’t let on.”

There was a moment’s silence as Clark ran a hesitant finger along the side of the car beneath Lex’s open window.

Lex gave his hand a light swat. “Watch those fingerprints, Clark.”

Clark didn’t laugh. “What’s going on, Lex?”

Lex favored him with coolly raised eyebrows. “Business.”

Clark waited for him to continue, but Lex said nothing further about Japan. “Good luck at the Planet this week,” he said quietly.

Clark sighed, and nodded.

“Smile for me,” coaxed Lex, with another of his cool, lazy grins, tapping a finger against Clark’s cheek. “Come on. I love you.”

Clark gave him a faint smile, then, but sighed, the warmth not reaching his eyes.

“Don’t give me that look, Clark/And, don’t pout,” Lex counselled. “Talk to you later. Take care.” He grasped the car’s shift lever, and Clark knew the conversation was over.

Clark sighed again, and his heart felt heavy as he grabbed his overnight bag and headed into the dorm. He didn’t look back, although he knew Lex was still parked, watching him, probably with that same oblique, cryptic look on his face. His felt as though he’d been kicked, and pain and irritation simmered just below the surface. Lex was always pressing him for information, but when Clark tried to do the same, he slipped away, making him feel like a naughty, curious kid.

Despite our closeness, despite all we’ve shared, despite the fact that I love him and he loves me, there are certain things we just don’t talk about. Ben. And, business.

Clark wondered dejectedly if things would ever be any different.

Lex, there are so many things I’d like to tell you. And, I would, but…

I’m afraid. You, on the other hand, won’t confide in me just because you don’t want to.

VI

Lionel had begun the conditioning early. “Give this book to your brother, Charles,” he would direct his young son. “Tell your brother the telephone is for him,” “Your brother Alexander’s birthday is only a few days after yours, you know. That means, both my children are under Scorpio.” Lex could have laughed at how his father must have had to stretch to come up with that last one., though it was true Ben had been born a few days before Lex’s twenty-second birthday--a unique gift that had left him speechless, for once. But, not really for him, of course. Ben would be five this year. Victoria’s birthday was later in November, too, also under Scorpio, but Lionel never mentioned that. Apparently, it didn’t matter. Your brother. Lionel’s elder son found the repetition almost mind-numbing.

Lex always made a point not to react to these comments, which he knew were designed both to control and to cut deep. He just let them go by. This was the easiest way to deal with Lionel on anything. After all, he had chosen, long ago, under some significant pressure, to forfeit any claim to the child, mentally, emotionally, and physically. Ben was just an unfortunate biological accident, to which Lionel had swept in and laid claim during one of Lex’s weaker, more uncertain spells. Lionel was Ben’s legal father, and only Lex, Lionel, Victoria, and the keeper of the DNA test results knew the truth.

And, it hadn’t been so hard for Lex to keep his distance, to deliberately hold himself aloof, the first few years, when Ben was a newborn, then a toddler and a small child. The two of them saw each other only rarely, and interacted only minimally when they did [vague-describe this better]. Easy to ignore, disregard. Nothing to do with him. This was just another in a long line of Lionel’s countless power trips, and nothing to pay any special mind. Let Dad have his way, have whatever hollow pleasure he found in the whole charade. Let him win, as usual. Lex told himself repeatedly that he should have grown used to this by now.

It wasn’t as if there weren’t plenty of other things to engage his attention: business, Clark…and more business. Ben was way off limits, a responsibility and relationship forfeited. The door was closed--and, even by the time he’d been born, Lex had cultivated this mindset to such an extent that he found it a relief.

He had almost bought into his father’s game and convinced himself that Ben was Lionel’s son, rather than his.

But, now, several years had passed, and the child had begun to develop preferences of his own.. For some unknown reason, as Clark had observed, Ben was crazy about him now.

Lex was spending more time in Metropolis, at the townhouse in meetings with his father, and at the executive offices, and Lionel’s two sons were thrown into contact more often than before. And now that Ben aware enough to remember Lex from one visit to the next, he wanted him to be the first to help try out a new toy, sit next to him on the private Luthorcorp plane, take him to the park, or teach him new tricks on the computer. Lex had scoffed at this, at first. He swore to himself that he did nothing to encourage it. He had expected even less to respond to it. But, it didn’t seem to be something he could control. Which was a first.

Ben was inexplicably tickled by the fact that Lex had no hair. Lex would get calls on his cell phone on Sunday afternoons when he was with Clark in his dorm room: Ben wanting to tell him about a new pony, an afternoon at the circus, a birthday party with pizza and pinatas. Lex would be in auto-yes mode on the phone, faking exaggerated enthusiasm for these activities, then breaking to explain to Clark what was going on, while Clark would try to smother his laughter by burying his face in the couch cushions.

Lately, Ben had developed this habit of hanging on Lex all the time. Sometimes it almost tired Lex out. He’d be kind of a pest, were he not so engaging. And Victoria mentioned offhandedly that he begged for visits, chattering without cease about wanting to see Lex, his big brother, again.

“He’s constantly asking: how long will it be before we can visit Lex again?” Victoria, giggled one afternoon at the townhouse, seeming to find this highly amusing, despite the sardonic lift of Lex’s eyebrows.

“Victoria,” he began with a sigh, and a lethal glare, “Stop it. Now.”

“You can’t escape it, lover,” she murmured, a wicked sparkle in her eyes, “Blood will out.”

And, again, what could he say or do? Not much but scowl. Victoria was the kind of parent who would routinely forget the existence of her child for a month or six weeks, then suddenly bestow an intense blast of motherly affection for anywhere from an afternoon to several days, before being off again. She took a wicked pleasure in dumping Ben on Lex at most every opportunity for the afternoon and taking a bubble bath, or something.[rough]

Lex just sighed and thought: whatever. He knew Lionel didn’t like the relationship, the bond that had been forged, however minimally or belatedly. But, strangely, the elder Luthor seemed able to deny the child nothing, however irritated he seemed to be. Lex was flabbergasted at this—his father had never been afraid to say no to him. Lionel would give in to every fleeting request, buy expensive presents at which the child would barely glance. A lot of the regular Lionel input was there, the little mind games, the mental thumbscrews--but—Ben had a way of carelessly disregarding them. And, Lex thought with astonishment that his dad seemed to be getting a little soft. He let Ben get away with things he never would have tolerated from Lex. But then, Ben wasn’t like Lex had been.

Ben was cute, all auburn curls and rosy cheeks. Charming. Healthy, and amazingly well-adjusted. Especially for a Luthor. Not afraid of anything. No asthma, no illnesses, no fears. No meteor damage. Everything Lex hadn’t been, as a child. Ben had a way of laughing off Lionel’s attempts at control, and had already developed the Luthor gift of getting whatever he wanted. And even Lionel didn’t seem equal to the challenge of resisting his appeal.

There had been some uneasy moments at the town house this past week, after Lex had returned from Japan. Lex and Lionel were embroiled in a discussion of some of the problems at the Smallville plant. Victoria was there, too, draping herself periodically over Lionel’s shoulder to attempt to interject ideas and observations which neither of them would admit were basically good ones. The atmosphere was tense, and the conference was perilously close to disintegrating into a shouting match. Ben, never a respecter of serious discussions, had come barrelling into the study with his arms full of fall leaves, and Lionel had turned, and, seemingly without thinking, held out his arms to catch the child as he ran up, but Ben had skirted the older man and thrown himself on Lex, instead. This had sent Victoria into peals of laughter, and Lex had felt his cheeks stain with an uncharacteristic blush as the autumn leaves scattered across the floor and desk.

“Lex!” the child exclaimed. “Look! There’s a whole stack out on the driveway—the gardeners just raked them. We can turn them into pictures!”

Lionel had just laughed, hollowly, raking his hands through his scraggly mane of hair. Then, he’d picked up the blueprint, straightened it firmly, and laid it back on the table. “You’re too easily distracted, Lex.” he said sharply. Pay attention.”

“Sorry, Dad,” said Lex. “Okay, Ben. We’re busy, right now.” He bent down and gently loosened Ben’s grasp on his leg. “Have Margaret take you to the kitchen so you can get something to eat. We can go outside later.”

When she arrived, Lex helped gather up the leaves so Ben could take them to his room. “Hold onto them,” he instructed the child.

Before he could stand up again, Ben had planted a kiss on his cheek.

Lex was astonished to feel himself blush. Victoria was still chuckling, and Lionel spun around in aggravation. “Oh, Victoria,” he spat, “Stop it, or leave.” The obedient Victoria pulled a serious face at once, but her eyes still twinkled wickedly at Lex over Lionel’s shoulder.

Oddly enough, the tension was broken, but it felt like the calm before a storm. And only a few days passed before the next uneasy encounter.

VII

“Wow,” breathed Lex in an exaggerated whisper. “A loose tooth! Your first?”

Ben nodded, turning his woeful gaze to Lex. “I don’t think I like it very much. It hurts.”

“Well, you shouldn’t mind that,” Lex insisted. “It’s worth the pain. Put that tooth under a glass in your father’s study, and you’ll probably get-at least $5,000! No, not that much. But, at least $10.00. First missing teeth always pay the best. I got $5.00 for mine, but prices have gone up since then. Inflation can work in your favor sometimes, Ben. And, when your finances get low again, we’ll just pull out the next one. And, the next.”

The child considered for a moment. “Can I get a quarter?”

Lex laughed. “I suppose. You’re driving a hard bargain.” He fished in his pocket. “Here it is. But, you have to give up the tooth.”

Ben giggled as Lex put a finger on his small mouth. “Open up!” he commanded. reached in to wiggle the tiny incisor. “Ouch, be careful! You’re biting! Stop, or I’ll yank it out, now!” This elicited a squeal that was half delight, half terror, as Ben buried his face in the couch cushions.

Lionel strode in and flung a handful of documents on Lex’s desk. “Lex,” he barked, “I need you to account for a few things in this damned report. Look at page 44.”

Lex sat up, paling, turning suddenly serious. “Shhh,” he warned Ben. Ben jumped up, too, with a frown, and ducked behind the couch.

“Don’t yell,” said Ben, hanging over the back of the couch, his small arms around Lex’s neck. He fixed Lionel with an angry glare
.
Lionel chuckled briefly and then turned serious, returning a cryptic glance. “I’m not yelling, Charles,” he protested mildly.

“You are,” the child insisted. “Stop. Be nice to him.”

Lex felt a crazy impulse to laugh, but forced himself to retain the serious expression on his face.

Lionel did laugh, a hollow laugh, strode over, and placed both hands on the child’s shoulders. “Come here,” he said sternly. Marching him over to the window seat, he pushed him down on the oblong cushion. “Sit down, and be quiet.” He pressed the intercom button, which was answered in a moment by Ben’s nurse. Lex and Ben exchanged guilty glances.

“Margaret. Come and fetch Master Charles at once,” Lionel commanded.

Lex felt like a disobedient child again, himself, and felt himself huddling into the couch cushions before Lionel turned his attention back to him. “Lex,” his father barked. “Come here.” Lex jumped up immediately, and went to his father’s side.

In the window seat, Ben dissolved into tears. Lionel ignored him, but Lex felt a twist of sympathy, and he tried to catch the child’s eye to smile at him, while still giving his attention to his father. When Margaret arrived, Ben broke from her grasp, ran to Lex’s side, and clung to him, resisting. Ben was so touchy-feely, thought Lex, with something akin to dismay. Not much like a Luthor at all. He attempted to loosen the little arms from around his leg, but the child resisted.

“Come on, Ben. Be good. No temper tantrums today.” And, after a moment’s hesitation, the child let go.

He stopped beside Lex on his way out, subdued the accompanying sniffles, and said, through his tears, “I love you.”

Lex just stared at him. His throat felt suddenly dry as sawdust, and he cast an uneasy glance at his father. Lionel gave no indication of having heard, and Lex couldn’t have spoken for the world.

Lex got up, and gave Ben a gentle push toward the door. “Thanks/That’s right/Okay, Ben,” said Lex. “We’ll play later.”

Ben didn’t protest further, and obediently left the room with his nurse. Lex sighed with relief, and turned his attention back to his father.

Lionel didn’t meet his eyes, and his voice was brusque, clipped and low. “Why must you continue to call him that?” He rustled the report crisply and slapped it firmly onto the desk.

“It’s just a nickname, Dad. Just for fun.” Lex chided himself inwardly for using this particular diminutive around Lionel—but it had a way of just slipping out. Lionel makes a scoffing sound of disgust.

“Dad,” said Lex calmly. “I wouldn’t let him get to you. He’s just a kid.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lex,” Lionel said evenly. “Now, about this proposal.“

Lex could sense it: ominous, uneasy tension, like that preceding a thunderstorm. He could handle his father’s displeasure, but he didn’t want the lightning to strike Ben.

Lex bent down to pick up the quarter that had fallen on the floor, and studied it pensively as his father put on his glasses and began spreading out the pages of the offending report.

He knew he’d better prepare for war.

Blood would out. Lex knew that, and he knew that Lionel knew it, too.

VIII

“Hey,” said Clark, rapping a pencil on Lois Lane’s desk. “’Bout time to break for lunch?”

“In just a minute.” The girl reporter stopped typing and slid her desk drawer closed.
“I’m starving,” she breathed. “What have you got?”

Clark raised his eyebrows and placed a paper sack from Subway on her desk, along with a couple of crumpled bills and a handful of change.

“All RIGHT!” Her response was a squeal of glee. “Remind me to send you for lunch more often.”

Clark just grinned.

“So,” began Lois, a mouthful of low-carb deli wrap notwithstanding, “You going to help me land my biggest interview this season?”

“I don’t know,” Clark tried to make his tone deliberately noncommital. “Depends on what you’re looking for.”

“I’d be eternally grateful if you’d make me a date with your buddy, Lex Luthor.”

“Hmm,” said Clark. “He doesn’t like to be interviewed for much.”

“I’ll go easy on him,” Lois promised.

“I’ll have to see. Give me some time.”

IX

[Ben goes to school]

Lex should have known to expect something like this. But, it still caught him unawares.

“Sit down, Son.” Lionel gestured to the breakfast table.

Lex shook his head as he laid the morning edition of The Daily Planet on the tablecloth “No, thanks.”

Lionel “Come on, Lex. Humor me this morning. Is one breakfast with your father too much to ask?”

“I don’t do breakfast,” said Lex blandly. “Remember Shylock, Dad?”

Lex gazed out the penthouse window over the Metropolis river, early-December morning mist still lingering over the water.

“Charles will be going to school this winter,”

Lex thought a moment. “Hard to believe he’s old enough for kindergarten,” he said easily, “but, I guess he is. Which one: Churchill Elementary or St. Mark’s?”

“Neither,” Lionel replied briskly. “He’s going to England.”

A brief, uneasy sensation tight in his chest caused Lex to draw a quick breath. “I didn’t know you and Victoria were relocating,” he said quietly.

“We’re not,” said Lionel in a clipped voice, stepping back to the table and pouring himself a glass of orange juice.

Lex laid his spoon down, and regarded his father with astonishment. “England? By himself? Dad, he’s barely five.”

Lionel sipped his juice, and paused before replying. “He’s old enough . The (name of school) in ( ) will take him./ That’s the minimum age for admission at [ ] in [ ].
[this just needs a few facts re: English boarding schools. Minimum age? do kids have their own rooms, etc.]

Lex thought for a moment, and gave an uneasy sigh. “You can’t be serious, Dad. He’s too young. Let him stay here for awhile, be a kid.”

“Old enough to learn discipline. He’s in sore need of that. It will be good for him. He’s a brilliant child, as well, who needs an appropriate education, which shouldn’t be delayed further.”

Lex rose from the table and ambled to the window, starting outside at the gray day, biting his lip. In spite of himself, his stomach twisted. Boarding School, overseas, alone. At five. Even he had been nine before having to suffer that.

“He’ll be alone over there.”

“Victoria has family nearby.”

“The Hardwicks,” muttered Lex. “Why don’t you just throw him into a school of sharks, or a pack of wolves? Is this her idea, then?” Even though he knew it wasn’t; it had his father’s fingerprints all over it.

“Lex, we have a private plane. There are no limitations on visits.”

Lionel was scanning Lex’s discarded newspaper, and thus couldn’t see his son’s bitter smile. How often did you come to visit me? Lex thought. Never. Just flew me home very occasionally for Christmas or summer holiday. For nothing.

He remembered the bleak loneliness, the sense of abandonment. Ben was too young for that, too…

“Can’t Victoria at least go over there, too?”

“Lex,” said Lionel, “It’s been settled.”

Lex bit his lip, agitated. “You don’t need to do this, Dad. He’s yours. He has been, since the beginning. Don’t send him away, just to prove it. Please.”

Begging Lionel. How he hated that. Especially since it never worked.

“You’re being ridiculous, Lex. You disappoint me. You could be a fine businessman. But, you’ve got to stay focused. Charles is proving too much of a distraction, with all the important negotiations we have in the works at present. You have to know when to trim your sails.”

Lex was silent for a moment, his thoughts scattering. There had to be something, some way to make his father see reason. He wondered tensely how much time he had.

“When will he be leaving?

“Spring term begins early in January, so—

“Not before Christmas, Dad.”

“He leaves on the fifth of January.”

“Dad,” Lex said, panic gripping him tight in the chest. Deliberately, he kept his voice steady. “Why do you want to get rid of him? He’s the son you always wanted, isn’t he?”

Lionel regarded Lex with mild surprise, but his voice was calm when he responded. “I’ll be keeping an eye on him, Lex, never fear, “said Lionel steadily. “It’s for the best.”

“Dad…” Lex made one last try, but was met only with silence.

“That’s enough, Lex,” said Lionel.

And before Lex could even blink, Ben was gone.

X

“Lex,” Clark tried to keep his voice steady and calm. Don’t hang up on me, Lex, he thought. Please. “Take it easy.”

“Damn it, Clark!” Lex spat into the phone. “My father’s really outdone himself this time.”

“Try to stop him, Lex,” Clark counseled.

“I tried, but he wouldn’t listen. Like he ever does.”

“Listen. I know what your dad is like. But, there must be some way you can get him to see reason.”

“Then you obviously don’t know him, Clark. The only reason my dad sees is his own.”

“Maybe you could get custody, if your father doesn’t really want him around.”

“No,” said Lex bitterly. “He’d never allow it. Ben is Lionel’s successor.”

XI

Lex was surprised by the void, once Ben had gone. How quiet it was around the town house without him. The subdued atmosphere when Lionel and Victoria would arrive without him—all so “adult,” now. The melancholy of the forsaken/abandoned garden swing, the untouched toys—no more games, either.

Well, so what. He must just have grown fonder of the kid than he’d realized. Force of habit, said his inner voice. And Lex kicked himself mentally for getting so attached. He hadn’t intended that to happen. It wouldn’t happen, again, either. When he and Ben met in the future, he’d have better defenses in place.

He threw himself even more fully into his work. Meetings, figures, formulae,
Spreadsheets and budgets. Proposals. Deadlines.

He wouldn’t let it happen, again.

XII

[Lex still wants Clark to work for him; he’s trying to get the business away from his father, and render Lionel without power. Along the way, at some point, he finds out about Clark’s powers. Clark is also drawing closer to Lois, and Lex gets jealous. This, combined with the other stresses, etc.]

XIII

Lex waited in the lobby of the Metropolis Thistle early Sunday evening.

Clark had stressed that this was NOT an interview, but simply an informal get-together to discuss, perhaps, the possibility of an interview, depending on how this first meeting went. No pressure. Lex had no wish to be interviewed, but had agreed mainly so he could get a good look, for himself, at Clark’s new co-worker, who, according to information received, was rapidly becoming a friend. Clark mentioned her frequently now, during their weekend visits, wrested with difficulty from the demands of college and business. Lex felt uncomfortable admitting to himself the extent of his curiosity about her. He was well acquainted with all Clark’s other friends, but this one was still a mystery. [of course, he won’t yet admit to himself any jealousy…]

If he felt uncharacteristically, inexplicably, uneasy, he was confident he could keep it from showing.

“Hey, Lex,” he heard Clark’s voice at his elbow.

The young woman extended her hand, “Mr. Luthor. A pleasure to meet you.”

With an easy smile, Lex took stock. There had been the occasional photo of Lois Lane in the paper, but the pictures hadn’t prepared him for the real thing.

Lois was about Clark’s age, maybe a shade older. Dressed with a cool elegance. Deep, sparkling brown eyes, short, straight hair, styled simply, and almost as dark as Clark’s. Full, lush lips. Porcelain skin, rosy cheeks. Pretty. No, beautiful. Almost his type. Cool and sleek when she was serious, and, when she smiled—well, she could probably get an interview out of the most reluctant subject.

There was nothing shy about Lois when it came to the hors d’oeuvres. Her eyes narrowed as she reviewed the appetizer plate she had asked Clark to order.

“Are you going to eat that?” she asked Clark. Without waiting for a reply, she reached over and grabbed the egg roll he had already selected and placed on a small dessert plate in front of him.

“Lois…” Clark scolded, but then cast her a glance so appreciative that it seemed to Lex that he didn’t really mind this thievery. Clark elbowed her in the ribs, and she gave a small squeak.

“Knock it off, Clark,” she laughed, and then smiled at Lex. “Sorry, I’m starving. Reporter’s salary, and all that.”

Clark laughed, too. Lex raised his eyebrows, and his eyes glistened.

“You’re more into sweets, anyway, Clark. Twinkies, cupcakes…you probably know that, right, Mr. Luthor? You’ll never miss this.”

Lex nodded, and then frowned thoughtfully.

“Please, Ms. Lane. Call me Lex. Any friend of Clark’s is a friend of mine.”

“Okay: Lex. But only if you’ll call me Lois.” Lois leaned back in her chair, and began. “So, how far back do you guys go? Smallville?”

“We’ve been friends since then,” Lex stated, feeling suddenly and intensely possessive. He’d known Clark a lot longer than she had, after all. His irrational response brought him up short, and he made an effort to get a grip.

“And how did you meet?”

Lex dropped his gaze, and smiled, cryptically. “It was an accident.” He looked up to see Clark smiling at him, and, for a moment, things were better.

He paid no attention to Lois’s exasperated sigh before her questions rapidly intensified.

XIV

“Lois takes her training responsibilities seriously,” Clark was saying, as Lex realized he’d been zoned out for awhile. How long would it be before they could call it a night?

“Clark has a lot to learn,” Lois grinned. “But, he learns quickly. I’m not worried about him, at all.” She carefully selected a cheese stick from the platter and dipped it in the congealing marinara sauce.

Lex’s unease had grown stronger as the evening progressed, although he was confident he had answered all of Ms. Lane’s questions completely and effectively. Not bad for a NotInterview. Her tenacity reminded him of those long-ago sessions with Chloe Sullivan, but he knew that Lois was a lot more of a threat. In more ways than one.

She had not only a reporter’s instinct, but those of a woman-- he was sure of it. She’d slipped her arm through Clark’s early on in the meeting, and kept it there. She’d inched closer and closer to him throughout the evening, too, and while she wasn’t quite sitting in his lap, it wouldn’t take much more before she was. Clark wasn’t acting uncomfortable about it, either. He seemed to be enjoying it. The sparks between the two reporters were almost palpable. Lex had to look away, and caught himself gnawing his bottom lip.

“Lex,” said Lois, “You’ve barely eaten anything. I’ll split those last onion rings with you.”

“They’re yours,” he said. “All of them.” He glanced down at the cold and greasy mess, and his stomach stirred uneasily. Fried onions weren’t his snack of choice, and he hadn’t been the least bit hungry to begin with.

He had to get out of there. Needed to be with Clark, alone, needed it badly. How hard would it be to get rid of Lois?

“Well,” said Lex, “if we’re about finished, we’d better call it a night.”

“Sure,” said Lois. “I appreciate your time.”

“Thanks, Lex,” said Clark, extending his hand. Lex took it, although he felt stunned and ridiculous doing so.

“See you later, then?”

“Actually,” said Clark, “I’m driving Lois home. We have to catch an early flight to San Francisco.”

Lex smiled, tight-lipped. “Right.”

XV

He tried to dissuade himself from feeling worried. He had to expect that Clark and Lois would bond over their work. It was natural.

He told himself all these things as he blew on his cold fingers and turned the key in the Porsche’s ignition.

But, damn it, why couldn’t Clark have come to work for him?

He felt strangely lonely as he drove home. And suddenly, inexplicably, afraid.

XVI

[ Lex has been going sort of crazy with jealousy. He doesn’t mean to get over-possessive, but he does.

[at Clark’s dorm room—no, Clark DOESN’T have a roommate, thank goodness]

[Lex is getting tired of losing everyone he cares about, so he decides to try & hold onto Clark]

Lex maybe has a tendency to want to be possessive/controlling like his father.

His jealousy makes him become angry at Clark, and he tries to do something to assert control, or to hurt Clark, too.
He can tell Clark is keeping stuff from him. And this starts to tick him off.]

Even though Lex’s schedule was filled the following week with myriad business commitments, he found himself thinking continuously of Clark, who was far away on the West Coast. Missing him, yearning to see him, almost as constantly as he had in the first days of their relationship. So, when the heck had he gotten so soft?

Well, it was only till Wednesday. A two-day trip. Then, he would be back.

Lex was mildly shocked to find himself thinking this way regularly throughout Monday, then Tuesday.

When Clark hadn’t phoned by Thursday morning, Lex was seriously concerned. It wasn’t like him not to call—he always called. So dependably that Lex had taken it for granted, until now. He itched to pick up the phone himself, and, normally he would have. But, this time, he wanted assurance that Clark was thinking of HIM. So he waited.

And waited. Clark didn’t call.

By Friday evening. he couldn’t stand it any more. He had to find out, to see him.

Rolling to a stop outside the dorm, he noted both with relief and an unpleasant internal twist that the light was on in Clark’s room. So, he was back from San Francisco, had been back. Climbing the stairs,, he noted the return of the queasy stomach that had plagued him off and on all week. He stopped outside the door, and listened, but heard nothing. Using the key Clark had given him, he let himself into the room.

Clark was pulling his sweater off over his head, and started when he caught sight of Lex. “Hi,” he exclaimed, exhaling. “Lex, you scared me. Next time, give some warning.”

“Sorry,” Lex said quietly. “The element of surprise can be effective.”

Clark’s face flushed, his slight annoyance seeming to evaporate. “Who knows that better than you? Sit down It’s good to see you.” He grabbed one of the institutional chairs and shoved it in Lex’s direction.

He looked refreshed and comfortable in a white t-shirt and grey sweats, and so handsome that Lex’s breath caught in his throat. He made a conscious effort to hold onto the ornery mood that had claimed him for the past few days, fighting the immediate urge to forgive Clark all his neglect, immaturity and irrresponsiblility and just embrace him.

“Your hair’s wet,” Lex observed with a wry grin. He remained standing, hands in his pockets, feeling more like a casual acquaintance of Clark’s than anything else.

“Just showered at the gym,” said Clark, grabbing a towel from a dresser drawer. “After the first real exercise I’ve had all week. It felt great.”

“I wondered if you got back okay. You usually call.”

“Yeah, sorry. Time just got away from me. I was going to get back in touch over the weekend.” Clark began buffing his hair with the towel..

“And you usually spend Friday night at my place.”

“Everything got kind of thrown off this week, I guess. Sorry. We’ll get back on track.”

“Yeah, sure.” Lex raised his eyebrows, and glanced around the small room.

“Did Ben get to the school okay?”

“Yeah,” said Lex. “He did.”

“How did—“

“ I wanted to talk to you,” Lex cut him off brusquely. He felt numb, and his voice sounded as though it were coming from somewhere outside himself.

“Okay. Sure. Shoot.” Clark was looking in the mirror, smoothing his damp hair. He turned to Lex with a smile that faded as he registered the darkness in his friend’s gaze.

“Lex, are you okay?” Clark’s tone was worried.

“Sure,” said Lex evenly.

“Sure nothing’s bothering you?”

Lex just shrugged. “So, how was San Francisco?”

“Fun,” Clark replied as he [does something, I don’t yet know what]. “My first trip there, you know. Crazy drivers. We almost crashed the rental car.”

“And you say I’m bad,” Lex’s voice was faint.

“Well,” said Clark. “Don’t blame me. Lois was the one driving.”

The mention Lex was waiting for.

“You two seem to have gotten pretty close in the short time you’ve worked together,” Lex commented, fiddling with the items on Clark’s dresser: comb, wristwatch, cologne.

“She’s amazing,” Clark’s voice was breathless with what sounded like awe. “She’s taught me so much.”

“I’ll bet,” said Lex. Clark looked at him quizzically, and then with dawning, confused alarm. Lex raised his eyebrows coolly, then took a step or to toward the window, gazed into the darkness outside.

“Maybe you’re surprised by how attractive you’re finding her?” Lex said simply. He didn’t turn, avoided meeting Clark’s gaze.

“Lex,” Clark began, but Lex put out a hand abruptly, cutting him off.

“So, I’d just like to know: is this for keeps?” Lex’s voice was clipped, terse, silken. Dark as black velvet. He turned smoothly, then.

Clark licked his lips, which had gone dry, though his upper lip was beaded with sweat. He hesitated in confusion before replying. “What are you talking about, Lex?”

“Come on, Clark. Are you with her now? Because, if you are, I would appreciate being informed before too much more time goes by.”

The color drained from Clark’s face. “Lex…” he murmured. “No. Of course not. I…I like her. We’re friends. Co-workers, partners.”

“She’s hot for you, Clark. It’s obvious.”

“Lex,” said Clark, “Don’t say that.” Lex was making him feel confused, uncomfortable, strangely ashamed.[POV shift]

“I don’t think you know your own mind, Clark, or your inclinations.”

Clark’s eyes darkened, and his temper flared. “Why shouldn’t I? What do you think I am, a baby, or something? I’m grown up now, Lex. Even if you’ll always be older.”

Lex nodded, biting his lip. “You always act so innocent, Clark. But maybe that’s what it is: an act.” He turned abruptly. “Have you slept with her?”

Clark opened his mouth to deny it, but dropped his eyes under the intensity of Lex’s gaze. “Yes,” he murmured. “But only once.”

Lex exhaled a long breath. “Once, eh?” His throat tightened. I knew it, he thought, a sharp, confused pain knifing through him.

“On this trip.” Clark seemed confused, was almost breathless. “Just because we’d had too much to drink Tuesday night—“

“Never mind, Clark,” he spat. “An explanation isn’t necessary.”

“It was probably just a one-time thing.”

“Probably. Just ‘probably’?” Lex drummed his fingers on Clark’s desk.

“Right,” said Clark defensively. “Maybe I was lonely…missing you…”

“Maybe,” Lex’s voice was clipped. “But, I don’t think so.”

Clark exhaled, and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Okay, Lex. How did you know?”

“Know? I didn’t. You just told me. But now,” he continued, “You’ll have to decide. Pick one of us. You can’t have both.”

“I never ask you if you’ve had anyone else. Or cared. Why are the rules different for me?”

Lex turned around, hands clenching and unclenching in his pockets. “There haven’t been any rules, Clark, not so far. They haven’t been necessary, because you’re more generous than I am. But, I’m making them, now. I don’t want to share you. So, make up your mind. Or, I’ll help you. “

Clark opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Lex was slamming him into the wall and crushing his mouth to his. He pulled down the collar of Clark’s t-shirt and sucked lightly on the pulse in the younger man’s throat. Clark caught his breath, his fingers curling into fists.

“Lex,” Clark protested, deep blush staining his cheeks once again, “Hey—“He tried to push him off, but Lex struck his hand away, then slid his own between their bodies and down the front of Clark’s sweats. He stroked slowly and roughly, and Clark quivered, trembling, as Lex moved back to his mouth, tongue thrusting, gnawing, sucking at his bottom lip.

“Wait, Lex,” Clark gasped around Lex’s mouth. “You don’t understand. Let me explain,” But Lex’s hands by now were roaming all over his body, and Clark couldn’t seem to fend them off, despite his physical strength. “It wasn’t…”

“Shut up, Clark. Don’t say anything,” Lex commanded in a rough whisper before attacking his mouth again. He worked his hands up under Clark’s shirt as he sank to the floor in front of him. Lifting the edge from the bottom, he pressed his open lips to the bare skin above the waist of the pants, tasting the sweat-slicked skin.

“Clark,” Lex panted. “You’ll have to decide between her and me.” He nuzzled at Clark’s sweats, wrapping his arms around Clark’s hips and holding him steady as he mouthed his hardness through the cotton fabric. Clark felt boneless as he felt the wetness of Lex’s mouth seep through, and the teasing friction of the cloth. He couldn’t help thrusting up, and out, groaning in frustration as his body betrayed his attempt at firmness. He wanted to push Lex away, but his hands instead seemed to embrace the other man’s smooth skull of their own accord. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, and Lex was too busy driving him mad to observe the intense effort Clark was making to get control of himself.

“Don’t do this, Lex,” he moaned. “Not like this. Stop. Please.” Trying one last time to twist free, Clark lost his balance, crashing onto the single bed and dragging Lex over with him. There was a crack from the cheap wooden frame, and they both slid to the floor.

“Damn it, Lex! They’ll charge me for that.” Clark struggled desperately to sit up.

“I’ll pay for it,” Lex groaned. “Five thousand, ten thousand, whatever they want. Just—“He struggled to ensure that his legs and Clark’s became even more thoroughly tangled before pinning one of Clark’s arms to the floor.

“Stop,” moaned Clark. “Wait. I don’t—“

Lex put his hand over Clark’s mouth. “Shhh…” he whispered. “Don’t.”

Lex fumbled clumsily with trembling hands at the drawstrings of Clark’s sweatpants. A warning voice hissed in the back of his mind, but he paid no attention, intent as a lion stalking its prey. He heaved himself up, and ravaged Clark’s mouth again as he reached between them and slowly worked the younger man, “You’re mine, Clark,” he kept repeating. “Mine.”

Clark’s chest heaved, as he clenched his hands into fists, and made one more effort to calm himself that would have been visible to anyone less intent than Lex on whispering hot love words in Clark’s ear as Clark trembled and gasped, and came all over his hand.

“Mine, Clark,” he murmured huskily, as Clark choked, coughed, and trembled. “Not hers, no one else’s. Mine. ”

Lex lay quiet afterward, raising one hand to his mouth, and tasting Clark, as his hoarse breathing gradually slowed. But, coming down from the intensity of the encounter, he couldn’t really savor it. Fuck, he thought, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. What had gotten into him? He felt deeply ashamed that, even though it had been so angry and hard, it had been so good. That he’d come so hard himself, too, before he’d even gotten his clothes off. He dared to hope it had been good for Clark, too, but he was filled with foreboding.

He sat up, swiped his hands on his damp slacks, and bent to kiss Clark, who had rolled over on his stomach and lay, panting, with his head buried in his arms. “Hey, Clark,” he urged, “Come on.”

Clark raised his head briefly, and Lex noticed with dismay his flushed cheeks and lashes spangled with tears. “Don’t do this again, Lex.” he warned, and hid his face in his arm once again.

“Yeah, okay,” said Lex, wiping a hand across his bruised lips. “Point taken.” He felt the nausea kick in once again.

Clark lay still and silent, still breathing heavily, and Lex, felt suddenly cold. Concerned, he put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Clark,” he said, “I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“No,” Clark muttered thickly, without raising his head.

[maybe if Lex babied him a little, it would have been okay. But Lex shuts down emotionally here. Suddenly, he has to get out.]

Lex’s mind was scrambling in desperation. He had just wanted to see Clark, to talk to him. He hadn’t intended to mess things up further, to--

Lex reached out a hand to touch, but let it fall. He opened his mouth to speak, and then seemed to reconsider.

He had to get out, away. Now.

He hauled himself to his feet.

“Good night, then” said Lex abruptly, and left without saying anything further.

Outside, he didn’t get in his car at once. He placed both hands on the fender, and sighed, heavily.

You dick, he thought bleakly.

Then, with a muttered curse, he kicked the front tire, savagely. With an anguished groan, he slammed a hand heavily on the hood. He yanked open the door, flung himself into the driver’s seat, and buried his face in his hands.

***

After Lex had left, Clark dragged himself to his feet. Turning on the bathroom faucet, he let the water run cold, splashed some on his face, and then toweled it dry. He stripped off his sweat-soaked shirt, balled it up, and threw it into the corner of the room

Clark slammed a hand on the top of his dresser

He should have stopped it. Letting it continue had been wrong. There was no excuse for him not to have; he was strong enough. Even if it had left Lex with some bruises.

But, damn it, Clark thought, a hissing breath escaping his lips, he couldn’t deny that he’d wanted it, too. Lex’s hands, his voice, his mouth. Even though he’d wanted to resist, he hadn’t been able to.

But, fuck it, why wouldn’t Lex ever listen to him. They’d converse on a subject for as long as Lex wanted to, and then…too bad, if Clark had more to say. It was over.

Lex seemed to be getting angry more and more, these days. He could be so cold, so capable of cruelty when he did. Capable of freezing Clark in his steps, overpowering him mentally and emotionally, if not physically.

Well, I’m getting angry, too, thought Clark.

Maybe Jonathan had been right all along, and any association with Lex meant trouble. Clark had avoided believing this for years. But how long would it be before the barbs ricocheted off of him and wounded someone else Clark loved? With his father dead, his mother was especially vulnerable. Raking a hand through his still-damp locks, Clark absently picked up the opened envelope that had lain on his desk for the past week and a half. Felt a brief flicker of amazement that he hadn’t thrown it in the trash immediately upon receipt.

The return address, handwritten in a jagged scrawl, was in the upper left hand corner: Lionel Luthor.

Clark swallowed hard, took a ragged breath, and pulled his cell phone from his desk drawer.

Clark arrived at the senior Luthor’s office only four minutes before the time of their scheduled meeting. He had taken care not to be too early.

Over the past couple of years, Clark had crossed paths with Lionel Luthor only rarely. The sightings were always brief: Lionel coming, going, always in a hurry, barking orders, making grand entrances and exits. The sight of Lionel always filled him with an odd fear, a strange, far-off unease. Clark had suspected Lex had taken pains to keep them apart, and Clark had silently acquiesed, being—well, not afraid, but cautious. He was aware of the adversarial relationship Lex had with his father, and, though he didn’t know most of the details of what the older man had put Lex through, he knew it hadn’t been good. He was only there because Lex had changed so in the past few weeks. But even if they didn’t get along, Lionel was Lex’s father. He was the only one who might be able to help.

And surely he’d want to help his own son, despite whatever problems they’d had.

Now, though, even though still nervous, he was curious. What could Lex’s father tell him about the darkness in his son?

He would be completely on the defensive. He would be careful, and watch everything he said. He wasn’t about to let Lionel Luthor get the better of him.

***

Fifteen minutes passed before the senior Luthor arrived. Clark’s kept his mind purposely/purposefully blank while he waited.

Lionel breezed in carrying an overstuffed accordion file. He laid it on the desktop, turned to Clark, and extended his hand. “Mr. Kent.”

Clark shoved hands into pockets without speaking or smiling.

Pouring out a glass of water, Lionel handed it to Clark with an easy smile.

“You wanted to see me, sir.”

Lionel smiled again, and waited a few moments before speaking. He looked Clark up and down, coolly assessing.

“So. You’ve grown into a fine young man. Your mother must be proud. And working at the Planet.” Clark was sure Lionel did not impress easily, but he almost thought he saw a glimmer of admiration in the man’s glance.

“Yes, Sir,” Clark wondered briefly where this was headed.

Lionel paused again, regarding Clark with a cryptic expression. “You and my son have been friends for quite some time, now.”

Clark willed himself to stay calm and cool, but he felt himself flush.

“Yes, sir, we have. But I’m not here to discuss my personal relationship with Lex. I’m here because I’m concerned about him.”

“As am I,” said Lionel. “That’s why I thought we should talk. Tell me,” he continued, motioning Clark to sit down, “How has Lex seemed to you these past few months?”

Clark considered. “Preoccupied. Worried. Less in control, but more secretive than usual.”

“Lex does like to keep his own counsel. The mark of a good strategist.”

Clark hesitated. “Almost cruel, at times.”

I shouldn’t have said that, he castigated himself mentally.

He stammered slightly as he continued. “But it all seems more sinister than usual. He’s keeping secrets from me. Both about him, and about what he’s been doing. I just want to help him,” Clark finished uneasily.

“Ah,” said Lionel, “You seem a fine, honest young man. And you think you’re capable of helping Lex…that’s noble. Sadly, my boy could help himself, were he not so drastically ruled by his emotions. But that can be a benefit in other ways.” Lionel’s eyes narrowed, and he drew closer, causing Clark to step back.

“Handsome boy,” Lionel murmured, reaching out to finger a strand of Clark’s hair. Clark flinched, with a grimace of distaste, and Lionel let his hand linger briefly, gliding down Clark’s cheek, before withdrawing it.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about my son, Mr. Kent. A lot Lex doesn’t realize I know, either. But, he’s mistaken. I asked you here,” continued Lionel, stepping behind his desk “because I know how important you are to my son. You’re his greatest weakness, and no doubt the one person who can help him see reason. He may listen to you, even if he’ll listen to no one else/he’ll certainly listen to no one else. If emotional tyranny must be employed to influence him, then, so be it. Emotional tyranny—or sexual, whatever is most effective. Whatever you think would be most effective, Mr. Kent.”

Clark willed himself desperately not to blush or look away, but his heart sank, knowing he was unsuccessful.

“You want to help him, too,” Clark

Lionel gestured to the desktop. “Take a look, Mr. Kent. Private files on my son’s recent activities.” Lionel said simply. Casually, he tipped the accordion file and spread its contents out over the marbled blotter. “He is unaware of the extent of my knowledge.”

Clark swallowed hard, and opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing. Lionel waited, lips curling into a satisfied smile.

“Consider these. Look at these. Records of my son’s dealings over the past few years. Concern for humanity takes a back seat when Lex has other goals, as you can see.”

Outside in the cold, late-winter afternoon, Clark shivered, even though the cold never troubled him.

He recalled the files, spead across Lionel’s desk in crazy disarray. He’d picked one up, then another, letting them slide from his limp hands.

He felt a dead, morbid sickness as he recalled what he’d read.

Illegal fetal tissue harvesting, murders, torture in South America. Ties with, funding of, Middle Eastern terrorist organizations. Chemical spills, illegal dumping. Sabotage, explosions, “Accidents” with hundreds of casualties. Lionel had listed them all off, described them all.

“I don’t believe it,” Clark had said, his voice cracking, throat dry as tinder.

Lionel shrugged. “Believe what you like. But, it’s all there. In black, white, and color. You can take copies with you for some light, bedtime reading, if you like. The originals stay with me.”

Clark dropped to a chair, clasping and unclasping his hands.

“Mr. Kent, I don’t believe in interfering in my son’s private life. I’m not trying to trade on your relationship with him, I’m simply requesting your help. He’ll listen to no one else.”

“Help to stop him, before more damage is done.”

Lex. It was unbelievable.

A monster.

Jonathan had been right, after all.

[this part is REALLY rough]

[Ben’s been kidnapped]

The Daily Planet headline on Monday morning was grim.

Charles Anthony Luthor, son of Lionel Luthor, had disappeared from his English boarding school over the weekend. There were, as yet, no leads.

Lex was at his father’s office within minutes. “I’m going over, Dad.”

Lionel raked a wiry hand through his shaggy mane of hair, shaking his head. “Lex, my best staff are on it already. You can’t help.”

“Does anyone have any leads?”

“Nothing, yet.”

[some time goes by]

Victoria (scene, later in the week)

Lex had wondered if the Hardwicks could be responsible for Ben’s disappearance, but he discounted this possibility early on. He had never seen a woman so angry as the bereft Victoria, after a week had gone by with no news. Tears, he would have expected, but not the anger. And, she wouldn’t have been capable of faking it to this extent.

“Daddy’s had all his detectives scouring the entire country. Nothing. Nothing.” Victoria slammed her hand on the table, so hard that Lex jumped. “Lionel is investigating on his own, but he’ll tell me nothing, either.”

“Join the club,” said Lex bleakly. Both of them were pale and drawn from lack of sleep.

Victoria drummed her fingers on the table, biting her lips. “Where is he, Lex?” she hissed. “God, please…”

“He’ll turn up by the end of the week, Vic, I’m sure of it.” He was no such thing, but it was important she believe it, right now.

Days passed, and nothing. No word or news.

There had been no word, no leads, all week.

At the Kents, Clark folded the newspaper

“I’m going over, Mom.”

“Good luck,” said Martha. “That poor child. Shall I call Lex?”

“No,” said Clark shortly.

***

(numeral)

Lex felt half sick the next day. His father had left for the U.K. without a word to anyone, even Victoria, who slept almost around the clock, and was on so many sedatives that she was only half-conscious even when she was awake. He went to his office, but had no power to begin on anything. He found himself staring out the window, bleak and frowning, remembering Ben as documents slipped from his hands and messages went unanswered.

Some crackerjack businessman, he thought bitterly.

Ben had said, “I love you,” and he’d said…

Nothing. And, now, the child might be dead. Never owned, never acknowledged. Never having known a real father. Or who his real father was.

Maybe he’d never even be found.

By afternoon, thoughts of Clark were beginning to haunt him, too. After their last ill-fated meeting, Lex had held onto his anger, his jealousy, his disappointment. Tried to convince himself that he didn’t care how long it was before he saw Clark again. That Clark was a disloyal, fickle friend that he’d probably outgrown. That Clark was becoming a self-righteous prig like his father had been. All lies. Only believable for a short time.

This afternoon, all he could remember were good things. Clark, on a rainy afternoon in the loft, Clark in a golden autumn meadow. Clark, back when they’d first been friends: earnest, kind, generous. The warm smile, the camaraderie.

The first genuine friend he’d ever had.

By early evening, he slammed the file cabinet shut with a muttered curse and grabbed for his coat.

He had to see Clark. Feel Clark’s arms around him, whatever it took. He’d apologize, grovel, he didn’t care.

***

[Second scene at Clark’s room]

The lamp on Clark’s desk glowed dim through drizzling rain. Lex didn’t go up at once, but sat for awhile in the car, reminding himself that he was never afraid. Of anything, and certainly not of a casual visit to his best friend.

He didn’t use his key this time, but knocked, and waited for Clark to answer. In a moment, he did.

“Lex.” No smile, just a suspicious frown, and Lex wasn’t surprised. Who could blame him, after what had happened on his last visit. But the sight of Clark was like balm to his buffetted spirit, no matter how hurt and resentful Clark looked. Despite his own pain, Lex just wanted to soothe him, comfort him. Which I should have done last time, he told himself.

“Clark,” he began, “Can I come in?”

Clark hesitated, looking uncomfortable, but held the door open. “Okay,”

“Thanks,” said Lex evenly. He stepped inside.

As soon as door closed behind him, Lex held out his arms.

“Clark,” he breathed, “I had to see you. God, I…” His eyes began to close, and then flew open again in surprise. Clark had grasped his wrist, hard, and there was both anguish and determination in Clark’s gaze.

“Wait,” he said, quiet and intense. “Don’t touch me, Lex. Stop. If you try to force me again, I might hurt you.”

Lex took a deep breath, and kept his voice steady as he pried Clark’s fingers from his arm. “You can’t hurt me, Clark.”

“I can,” Clark insisted, “If you push me too far.”

“Okay, Clark,” Lex sighed. “I had that coming. I don’t blame you for being upset about what happened last time. I was really out of line.”

“No kidding,” Clark agreed, but there was still no warmth in his tone.

“I’m prone to jealousy, sometimes.”

“That’s no excuse, Lex.”

“Christ, Clark,” Lex said quietly. “I’m sorry.” His voice dropped. “You know how I need you.” Even though he didn’t make a habit of it, he wasn’t too proud to beg, this time.

“Lex,” Clark began slowly, “That’s not the way I want to be needed. I’m not just a sex toy, and I’m not a kid. I don’t want to be your punching bag, either. I don’t want you to use me because you’re jealous of my relationship with Lois, or mad at your father—or mad about anything, whatever. Sex shouldn’t be for power plays. You don’t own me, and I hate it when you try to control me. I can’t let you do it anymore.

Lex , fidgeting, opened his mouth to speak, but Clark held up his hand. “Wait,” he commanded, and Lex waited.

Clark took a shaking breath, and went on. “I’m tired of you lying to me, and then pressuring me to tell you everything. I don’t like being manipulated. You wouldn’t even listen to me, that last time. That really bugs me, Lex. I’m grown up, now, and you still treat me like I’m sixteen. I’m a man now, and I know you helped me become one. But, you don’t own me.”

“I know I don’t own you, Clark.” Lex repeated, as though in a daze. “I never thought I did.”

“Why can’t you back off, then? Let me alone? At least give me some room to breathe.”

“Guess I need you too much.” Lex’s voice was matter of fact. He was looking out the window, seeing nothing, feeling real fear for one of the few times in his life.

“You make your salvation my responsibility, and that’s more than I can handle, right now.”

Lex stared out the window into the evening gloom. He felt suddenly chilled, and as though he’d been whipped.

“I do love you, Clark. I’m just…messed up right now.”

“When you just left, after—without saying anything. It makes me wonder about us, about you. There’s such a darkness in you, and it’s all about control.”

“Yeah,” said Lex. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Clark. I’ve been an ass. But—I need you. More than anything.”

Clark sighed. “Lex. This is really hard for me to say. I don’t really WANT to say it. I know things are rough for you right now, with Ben being missing, and all.”

Lex dropped his gaze, and felt another cold chill as he waited for Clark’s next words.

“I don’t think we should see each other for awhile. “We just haven’t been connecting lately. Feels like we’re at cross purposes. You seem angry, and I feel angry, too. Let’s take a break, for a few weeks. That way, you can think over what I said.”

Lex bit his lower lip. “So, this is because of Lois,” he said, his voice low and agitated.

Clark looked away. “I might be in love with her,” he admitted. “I’m not sure.”

Clark took a deep breath, and hesitated, but then continued. “You make your salvation my responsibility, and that’s more than I can handle, right now.”

Lex felt the color drain from his face, which changed as though he’d been slapped. “Sure,” he said quietly. “If that’s what you want.”

Clark stepped closer and put a hand on Lex’s wrist. “Anything I can do to help you find Ben, I will. I mean that. Stay in touch.”

Lex nodded.

“One more thing. Can you give me back my room key?”

Lex fumbled in his pocket. “Sure, Clark. Here you go.”

Lex tossed the key on Clark’s bed and exited the room before Clark could say anything else.

He walked slowly down the stairs, stopping for a moment on the doorstep to jingle the handfuls of change in the pockets of his slacks.

Beautiful Clark, he thought. Too fine, too good for me. It couldn’t have lasted, anyway.

He slammed an arm against the wall, hard. choking back angry sobs. “Fuck!” he shouted.

It was over.

[numeral]

Clark threw himself onto his bed, the mattress and frame groaning in protest, and lay there unmoving, grimacing, tears seeping from his tightly-closed eyes.

Please, he thought desperately. Please help him. I can’t, anymore. He wasn’t sure what deity he was addressing, Christian or Kryptonian, but right now it didn’t much matter.

He knew it had been the right thing to do, sending Lex away, but right now, it hurt so much he could scarcely bear it.

***

[a scene where Lex sees his father in his office, garden study or whatever. Lionel doesn’t know he is there. Lionel has orchestrated the whole thing, but it has taken a toll. It hasn’t been without price.]

Only his father was in the room

Lionel’s shoulders shook, almost imperceptibly, at first, then more and more violently.
At first, Lex thought he was laughing. The bastard, he thought. There’s nothing funny about what’s been happening.

Lex stood in the shadows, almost without breathing, unable to tear his eyes away.

Lionel set his glass down on the desk and covered his face with his right hand. Choking sobs came from his throat.

Lex caught his breath.

He took one step back from the doorway, then turned and fled.

Victoria had finally broken over the weekend, slamming a hand on the glass table so hard it had broken, [she’s already done this in a previous scene] and crumpling into a heap on the floor.

“Stop, Vic,” Lex gasped in shock. “You’ll hurt yourself,”

“I don’t care,” she said, dazed, before burying her face in her hands.

He’d have been a cold-hearted bastard like his father, had he not slipped to the floor beside her and gathered her into his arms. She clung sobbing to him as he stroked her hair and murmured distracted words of comfort that he knew were useless.

***

[Clark does something to help rescue Ben, who is missing for maybe several months. Ben’s been traumatized by the abduction, but not physically harmed, at all. Lionel saw to this.

The purpose for the staged kidnapping was for Lionel to get better control of Lex. He always wants to take everything of Lex’s, doesn’t want him to have an emotional bond with anyone else. This was threatened by the developing closeness btw Lex/Ben. The whole maneuver sort of backfires on him, though.

Lex now decides that he is adult enough, and strong enough, to take the responsibility. It will be a major step in his overthrowing of his father.

The rift btw the Clex continues, and the ending is bittersweet. Lex/Ben are reunited, and Lex is nearing actually owning Ben, though not completely there. Clark cannot be part of it, however.]

this is perhaps the closing scene]

[Clark & Ben]

It was late in the evening when they arrived at the Manor.

“So, now that we’re back, Ben, who do you want to say hi to, first?”

“Lex,” the little boy declared, and Clark smiled faintly. There really hadn’t been any doubt in his mind.

“Well, then,” said Clark, “Go say hi to him/Go do it, then. I’ll bet you ten hits of bubblegum—sugarless—that he’s in there.” He gestured toward the library door.

Ben went to the door and peeked inside.

“He is,” said Ben, looking back uncertainly at Clark. “He’s just standing in front of the window, looking out--even though it’s dark outside.”

“Go ahead, then,” Clark instructed, his voice thick. “Go to him.” He gave the boy a gentle push toward the entrance of the room.

Ben started in, then turned, and flung his arms around Clark. “I had fun,” he said. “When can we do it again?”

“We’ll do something more fun, next time,” promised Clark. “Don’t tell Lex that I was the one to bring you home, though. It’s our secret. Now, go.”

Ben grasped the doorknob, and then, hesitating, turned about once more. “Thank you, Clark,” he said solemnly.

“You’re welcome,” said Clark. “Pretty good manners they taught you at that fancy school. So, it wasn’t a total waste.”

Ben beamed an angel’s smile at him, and went inside.

Clark used his x-ray vision to track Ben’s progress into Lex’s office, just to make sure everything was okay.

He saw Lex drop the curtain, and, with a mild curse, tip over a chair as he fell to his knees to gather the child into a fevered, desperate embrace and bury his face in the auburn curls.

Clark almost would have sworn that he wept.

His own eyes were burning as he turned away. It was good that he had been able to do this for Lex.

The day was breaking as he left to head back to Metropolis.

_________________

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