FIC!!! New clex fic.
Thanks so much to everyone who commiserated over my hair trauma. It really helped, and I feel a lot better today, though I must say I have a whole new understanding of silver age Lex Luthor, and how losing one's hair can lead to a life of supervillainy.
Attempting to find a silver lining, however, I spent the day in bed and wrote fic! It's the next installment in my Lex and Clark go to Metropolis (aka the Lois & Clark AU) series.
This one's inspired by the Season 3 episode Ultrawoman. As usual, the setting's L&C Metropolis, Lois is from L&C, and Clark and Lex are from Smallville. Enjoy!
Prior parts here:
Cleaning Up is Hard to Do
World Enough and Time
And the new one:
I, Superhero
In the end, becoming Superman was surprisingly easy. A garish costume, a couple of spectacular rescues, actually sticking around afterwards to take the bows, and before long Clark was the toast of Metropolis. It felt like cheating to write his own exclusive interview, but he just couldn't face Lois and her relentless probing. Ten minutes with her and he knew his answer to Question 14: What's the best part of being a superhero? wouldn't have been the crowd-pleasing, paper-selling, "Knowing that I make a difference," it would have been, "It takes my mind off Lex." And that would have been disastrous, in so many different ways.
So Clark spent his days writing up his own exploits, hoping all the while it wouldn't give him some kind of complex, speaking about himself in the third person, and his nights patrolling the streets of Metropolis. Crime rates started to drop, the third month, but he still stayed out till dawn, fetching cats out of trees and helping drunk tourists find the way back to their hotels. He also gave a lot of inspiring speeches to school kids, juvenile delinquents, and AA meetings. It was easy to be lantern jawed and sternly heroic when his heart was slowly freezing over inside.
Lex, on the other hand, seemed to be passing the time in schizophrenic glee, alternating between taking over every company unfortunate enough to have caught his eye, and performing astounding acts of charity. He opened a new children's hospital, endowed several hundred scholarships to Metropolis University, and singlehandedly paid to refurbish every public school in the city. For some reason the latter irritated Superman more than the former, and he and Luthor, as he insisted on calling him, took to sniping at each other constantly in the press. Clark was scrupulously fair about the whole thing, and reported Lex's side of the story in as much detail as Superman's. Which did not remotely help his incipient personality disorder.
In a time of such stunning urban renewal and economic growth, and the lowest statistics for violent crime in the country, the mayor and councillors of Metropolis had no difficulty whatsoever deciding who to proclaim as joint Men of the Year. And so it came about that Clark found himself standing next to Lex at the reception, smiling for the cameras and wondering if Lex had worn a pink shirt deliberately, in order to clash with him.
*****
The first part of the evening passed in a peaceable enough blur, the mayor making a boring speech which had less to do with education or social policy and more with his own re-election campaign, the trophies being awarded, Lex responding charmingly, Superman mouthing a few platitudes he'd had drummed into him at home and could whip out to suit any occasion, and dinner being served. Clark hoed into the rubbery chicken, and left Lex to make small talk with the rest of the high table.
Once the plates were cleared, however, things began to go horribly wrong. The mayor allowed himself to be dragged onto the dance floor - super hearing informed Clark that his wife had the actual connections, and was not ashamed to play the card when required - and the other councillors wandered off in ones and twos toward the bar. Lex refrained from joining them, but made a point of catching the waitress' eye every time she walked past. Clark stared desperately at the table cloth, and tried not to count the brandies. It had been a minute consolation when Lex walked in as resolutely dateless as he was, but being stuck alone with him was torture.
"So," Lex said at last, looking pointedly at Superman's cape where it draped over the chair back and threatened to trip the wait staff. "I take Tempus' point about the costume."
Clark glared at him and put on his best Superman tone. In the presence of armed robbers it sounded menacing. In Lex's it sounded strangely desperate. "Mom made it."
"Of course." Lex smiled sharkishly. "I suppose I should be grateful it's not plaid."
Now that was below the belt. "You said you wanted to be friends!" Clark hissed.
"You said you were going to tell me everything," Lex hissed back, with double the vitriol.
"It's not my fault that every time I try to a busload of nuns and orphans goes off a bridge, or some nutcase…"
Clark broke off as Lex's waitress pulled a small but deadly looking weapon out of her bra.
"…takes you hostage…" he trailed off lamely.
Lex sighed. "Of course. You're here. Naturally my life is in danger."
"Don't blame him!" the waitress/hostage taker snapped, taking careful aim at Lex's head. "You brought this on yourself. You closed down my department and put my entire team out of work."
Lex looked scandalised. "I did not. The Luthorcorp/Lexcorp transition was implemented without a single job loss."
The woman's hand shook. "You merged Weapons of Mass Destruction with Archives! It was obvious you wanted us to quit!"
"Uh, yeah," Lex drawled, evidently feeling the seven - not counting! - brandies, and still not having mastered the fine art of not provoking one's captors. "Because I'm not a psycho."
"Psycho?" the waitress/hostage taker/disgruntled former employee shrieked. "We're the best at what we do. Our prototypes are brilliant! Watch this."
She pulled the trigger.
Clark had just enough time to get between them, wrapping himself around Lex and knocking him to the floor. The beam emitted by the weapon was a familiar emerald green, but apart from bathing them in a sickly glow, and making Lex madder than he already was, it didn't seem to do anything.
"Get off me," Lex hissed, elbowing Clark ungratefully in the ribs and clambering to his feet. It hurt. He'd clearly been working out.
The mayor's security detail appeared with creditable speed, subduing the struggling woman and removing her, though not before Lex announced that if that was all her department was capable of it would have soon been closed in any case, at which she almost broke free. He was evidently more flustered than he first appeared - that or he was sobering up - because he declined the mayor's offer of a police escort home, and asked Superman to accompany him instead. Clark decided to take it as an olive branch, and agreed.
He felt a little ridiculous, walking the streets of Metropolis in full costume - the cape really only worked in flight - but it was a nice night, and he knew a Lexian apology when he heard one. He was working up to one of his own when he heard the screech of over-stressed brakes. He smiled sheepishly at Lex, leaped into action, and tripped over his own feet, falling humiliatingly into the gutter. Lex gaped in horror, then blurred before his very eyes, streaking across the street in a flash of black and pink, and catching the car with one hand.
Clark staggered over, and tried to at least look like he was the man of the hour, as the terrified driver opened his eyes.
"That was… unexpected," said Lex.
"Huh," said Clark.
*****
Three hours and an entire bottle of aspirin later, it still hadn't proved a bad dream. Clark lay on the swing on his parents' front porch and watched as Lex zipped in and out of sight, stopping occasionally to mumble about transference technology and the perils of untrammelled scientific research, then disappearing into the ether once more. It was neither manly nor heroic, but Clark wanted to cry.
"You could think of it as a vacation, honey," his mother said in her best let's look on the bright side momvoice.
"Is that my tractor?" Jonathan demanded in his most incredulous Luthors are the devil and this one is worst of all dadvoice.
Clark peered into the gloom. Trust fate, that bitch, to have a sick sense of humour. He should have known he'd wind up really needing glasses. Sure enough, the tractor was on top of the barn roof, together with a feeding trough, a couple of forty gallon drums, and a maniacally grinning multi-billionaire.
"Lex Luthor, get down here this instant," he yelled. "And put that stuff away before a black helicopter comes to get us."
Lex stopped smiling. "Sorry," he mumbled, and in a flash everything was back in its proper place.
"Sorry," Lex repeated as he sat down on the porch step. "It's just been kind of fun, testing it all out. I can't see why you mope so much, this is fantastic. Hey! Can I set things on fire? How does your heat vision work?"
"Lex!" Irritation made his voice sharper than he'd intended. If he'd known he could rely on Lex to geek out rather than freak out, he'd have told him in the beginning and saved himself years of stress and loneliness.
"Sorry." Lex had the grace to look embarrassed. "I guess we should figure out how to switch back?"
Clark relaxed. "Actually we already know that one."
"Oh." The look on Lex's face switched to disappointment, but he covered it well. "Okay, let's do it."
"Right. It's easy. We just need to join hands and hang onto some kryptonite."
"Really?"
"Well, that and electrocute ourselves. Just a bit."
And just as fast the look cycled through panic, to disbelief, to outright fury. "No."
"Lex."
"I said no."
"Lex…"
"God damn it, Clark, what is the matter with you?"
"It's not dangerous, Lex, I swear. Eric was fine."
"Yeah." Lex shook his head in utter contempt. "Well, I wasn't."
"What? Lex, I… Oh. Oh." Not for the first time, Clark wished the earth would open up and swallow him. "Lex…"
"You know," Lex interrupted, practically shaking with suppressed emotion. "People call me cold, say I'm arrogant and unfeeling. But your selective amnesia stuns me." He stepped off the porch and into the enveloping darkness. "I guess I'll see you round."
Clark jumped to his feet. "Lex, for God's sake! You can't just keep my powers!"
Lex looked back over his shoulder. "Really?" There was no trace of a smile on his face. "Watch me."
*****
Lex spent the entire next week fooling around, enjoying his newfound superpowers. Clark phoned in sick, and spent the days on the couch, watching tv and cringing every time a UFO or sonic boom was reported. He cheered up a little when Lex accidentally set the penthouse on fire, but Lex obviously heard him laughing, because he smiled right into the news camera, nothing loth to be seen on network television in his pyjamas, and said that unfounded enmity aside, Superman might have showed up to ensure the neighbours weren't inconvenienced.
Things could have continued that way indefinitely, but on the ninth day a mudslide swept through a village in Bangladesh, trapping hundreds of people in their homes. Clark sat on his couch in numb horror as orphaned children cried, old women prayed, and LNN reporters wondered loudly where Superman was. There was no answer on any of Lex's numbers, and in that moment Clark had never hated him more.
A sudden crash from his bedroom caught his attention, and he ran in to find Lex struggling through the window from the fire escape. He looked awful, caked in mud from head to toe, his black jeans and t-shirt barely visible.
"Let's go," he snapped.
"What? Lex, are you bleeding?" Clark reached for the smear on Lex's face.
"It's not mine," Lex said tersely. "Come on. I need you."
"Lex…"
"I need you, Clark. I know I've been an asshole, but put on the damn suit and come wave your arms around, distract everyone so I can get those people out."
The relief was so strong Clark wanted to hug Lex. And then he thought, hell, maybe that was exactly what he should do. Lex stiffened for a second, then melted into the embrace, hugging him back tightly.
"My reporters have full editorial control in the field," he whispered against Clark's neck. "I didn't tell them to say that stuff about Superman."
"Okay," Clark whispered back. "Let's go. We can talk when we get back."
*****
It took them three days to dig the last survivors out of the rubble and rebuild the access roads into the village. Superman made as much commotion as possible, carrying babies out of the wreckage and occasionally passing within range of the cameras. The news crews chafed behind their newly imposed safety cordons, and cursed the unwonted (and unwanted) interference of their CEO and his OSH regulations. And Lex worked like a fiend, never once pausing to draw breath, though Clark noticed he got quieter and more drawn by the hour, and there were clean trails in the grime on his face.
By the time they were done, Clark was tireder than he'd ever been, and Lex could barely stay upright, super powers notwithstanding. Superman disappeared into the night, and Clark Kent re-emerged, to the shock and amazement of the Planet's foreign correspondent for East Asia, and the ill concealed fury of the LNN reporters, who made little attempt to rein in their complaints of favouritism, even as Lex himself walked past. It was a sign of Lex's exhaustion that he let it pass without comment, allowing Clark to bundle him into the waiting car, and onto the Lexcorp jet waiting at the airport.
They flew back to Metropolis in silence, Lex's pleasure in a job well done spoiled by embarrassment at not being able to make it back under his own steam.
"I'm really proud of you," Clark said at last. "You did better than I did, my first time. Lex?" But when he leaned over the aisle to check on him, Lex was fast asleep. Clark covered him in one of the purple and black blankets from the overhead locker, then curled up to get some rest himself. He had a favour to ask of his parents, and he didn't think getting their agreement was going to be easy.
*****
Lex flinched visibly as Martha's hand slid up his inner thigh, just brushing the hem of his boxers. Clark figured it was fair recompense for the first time Lex had had him fitted for a tux, without telling him how tailors got their measurements.
"Stay still," Martha mumbled around a mouthful of dressmaker's pins.
Jonathan caught Clark's eye from his perch on the table, and they shared a manly grin. The spectacle before them made up for a lot.
"Does it have to be so tight?" Lex asked in a weak voice.
"It cuts down on wind resistance, sweetheart," Martha replied.
Lex sighed.
"And it stops people from looking at your face," she added wickedly.
Lex gave a strangled moan and flushed scarlet. The entire length of his body. Clark had forgotten he did that. He shifted uncomfortably, remembering other times he'd seen it.
Lex caught the movement, and rallied. "The colours you picked are very nice, Martha," he said sweetly. "Subtle. Understated. And this fabric is much more flattering than lycra." He shot a poisonous look Clark's way.
Jonathan burst out laughing. "You look like a gay trapeze artist."
Lex turned the sweet smile on him. "I could borrow some of your clothes and be a gay cowboy."
The laughter died. "You could just give Clark his powers back."
"Or you could use your brains," Lex retorted, "since you still refuse to share any useful information with me, and think of a way to do that that doesn't involve pumping a million volts through me."
"Lex, honey…" Martha sighed. "You know we wouldn't do anything to hurt you."
"I don't know anything of the kind," Lex snapped. "And I'm sorry to be rude, but I just don't trust you. Any of you. If I let you do this, I'll probably wake up tomorrow back in Paris, with a three month hole in my memory, hating Clark Kent, and just as much in the dark about Superman as anyone."
Clark leapt to his feet, stung. "Why would I do that?" he shouted. "We didn't speak for three years! Why would I want to go back to that?"
Lex flinched away from him. "Three years then. I'll wake up back in Smallville, still thinking that you're perfect."
Martha stared hard at her pinking shears, and Jonathan went to the fridge to get himself a beer.
"I'm not perfect," Clark whispered miserably.
"No," Lex whispered back, just as miserable. "But I thought you were."
"And now?" Clark didn't want to hear the answer, but he had to ask. "Do you honestly think I'd do that?"
Lex sighed and looked away, unable to meet Clark's eyes. "You've done it before," he said at last. "You let me think everything was fine. You let me go home with my father, you let me be grateful to him for what he did to me."
Clark nodded, the pain in his chest crushing and all pervasive, strangely reminiscent of the kryptonite he was suddenly immune to. "And you can't forgive me for that, can you?" he managed.
Lex bit his lip, and when he turned to look at Clark his eyes were shiny. "I forgave you a long time ago," he said. "I just don't trust you. I can't. Not with something like this."
"Okay then," Clark said quietly, but with as much of a smile as he could muster. "Let's finish the suit, and then practise flying. You're going to have to get used to passengers."
He felt a lot better when Lex managed a tiny smile in return.
*****
Wrong.
Hideously, horribly, pervertedly wrong!
That was all Clark could think as he watched Lex deposit the toddler he'd just rescued from the path of an oncoming truck into the arms of her grateful mother, and turn to work the crowd, beaming and smiling, shaking hands and shrugging off thanks. Well, that and hot. Incredibly, immeasurably, unignorably hot. Which took him straight back to wrong. He wasn't supposed to be ogling Lex, he was supposed to be taking point. Serving as wingman. Acting, as he'd promised, as a partner.
Not that Lex was having any difficulties. Oh no. He was doing just fine on his own. And if he didn't quit schmoozing and fly off soon, women were going to start throwing their underwear at him. Either that or Clark was going to spontaneously combust out of a mixture of jealousy and lust. Damn, but his mother had done a good job on the suit. And Lex was right, the textured material she'd chosen was much more flattering than lycra, its two tone purple hugging Lex's lean, muscled form in just the right places. The suits he wore every day were criminal in what they concealed. Though Clark was suddenly very grateful for the ill fit of his. He stared beseechingly at Lex, but before Lex could react a well-placed elbow shoved Clark aside.
"Lois Lane, Daily Planet," his partner said forcefully. "I have a few questions, if you don't mind."
Lex gave her his most sincere smile. "Of course, Ms Lane. Go ahead."
Lois smirked at Clark.
"Well, let's start with the obvious one then. Who are you?"
Lex smiled winningly. "I'm a friend of Superman's, and..."
"Friend, huh?" Lois snorted, eyes raking up and down Lex's body.
Lex flushed and pulled his cape closer around himself. "Yes. We... um… Yes." He cast a desperate look in Clark's direction.
Clark cleared his throat and tried to remember the story he'd prepared.
"Superman is on a top secret mission for the United Nations. Attempting to broker peace in Iraq. Afghanistan. The Sudan! Yes, the Sudan. Darfur."
"Darfur?" Lois asked sceptically, her eyebrow meeting her hairline. "Really?"
"Yes, Ma'am," Lex said, in a fair approximation of Superman's didactic tone. "The ethnic Arab militia the Janjaweed are slaughtering the African majority..."
"Yeah, yeah." Lois waved her hand dismissively. "I wrote a piece on it last year. But who are you? What's your name?"
"My name?" Lex went pale.
It was the one thing they'd forgotten. After all, Lois herself had given Superman his. Not to mention Tempus had given them advance warning.
"Ultraman!" Clark blurted.
"Ultraman?" Lois echoed.
"Ultraman," Lex sighed.
*****
"Ultraman?" Lex hissed, slamming the french doors to the balcony. "Ultraman? That was the best you could do?"
Clark hid behind one of the overstuffed cushions on the couch. "I'm sorry," he said. "It was on the tip of my tongue to say Warrior Angel."
"What? Do I look like...? Don't answer that." Lex made a visible attempt to calm down.
"It could have been worse. I nearly said Ultraboy."
"Boy?" Lex snatched the cushion out of Clark's hands and flung it into the dining room. "I'm six years older than you are!"
"But you're smaller!"
And that was the thing about emergencies. They always happened when you were trying to say I love you, or I need you, or I'm an alien. Never when you were being an ass and needed urgently to be rescued.
"You're shorter," Clark tried desperately. "Thinner."
"A delicate flower? A damsel in distress?" Lex's eyes were glowing red in a way Clark's hadn't in years.
"No," he stammered, "I just, you know. Always imagined you as the sidekick."
"I'm Seal trained, Clark," Lex said sharply. "And I have your powers. Would you like to see my sidekick?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."
"Hang on," Lex interrupted, abruptly changing tack. "You imagined? You imagined us together?"
"Yeah," Clark said miserably. "I always thought we'd be a team. You know. I'd do the rescuing, and you'd do all the talking. You're so much better at it than I am."
"That's true."
"And you'd come up with some cool gadgets for me so Batman doesn't always hear about everything first, and take charge."
"Yeah, that is really annoying how he does that." Lex was starting to smile. "Reminds me of this guy I knew at school."
"But mostly I just always thought we'd be together. After everything. The fighting and the hostage taking and the time travel. I thought we'd work it out. I know that's lame."
"It's actually really sweet," Lex whispered, leaning in. "Sweeter than I deserve, I guess."
"No, Lex, I..."
And then Lex's lips were on Clark's, stopping his voice. It was a chaste kiss, close mouthed and gentle, but it was the best thing Clark had felt in a long time.
"Thank you for going along with this," Lex whispered, still close enough that Clark could feel his breath on his lips. "I know it's making you miserable."
"It's fine," Clark insisted. "I'm fine."
Lex shook his head. "I know you, Clark," he said. "I know how much being able to help people means to you."
"Yeah," Clark said firmly, pulling back so he could look Lex in the eye. "But do you know how much you mean to me? Do you? Really?"
"Sometimes," Lex whispered hoarsely.
"I love you," Clark said, almost angrily. "I love you more than I've ever loved anything. I miss you, and I need you, and I want you. God, I want you."
Lex's mouth opened and closed soundlessly.
"And I swear I'll do my best not to hurt you any more, I'll..."
Clark gasped as Lex's hand closed around the back of his neck, pulling him roughly forward. He managed to turn his head enough to avoid bumping noses, but their cheekbones still collided, and he knew his would bruise later. And he couldn't have cared less, because Lex's mouth was opening, tongue sliding wetly across Clark's lips, and then they were kissing, really kissing, finally after all this time.
And just as abruptly they weren't. Lex pulled back, hands dropping, and Clark felt it like a physical blow. "What? No!" he forced out. "Lex..."
"Clark, I can't..." Lex looked confused, and his gaze flicked back and forth between Clark and the open balcony doors.
"Don't go!" Clark shouted.
"Oil refinery!" Lex shouted back, and then he blurred and disappeared.
Clark kicked the coffee table in frustration, and as he sat down heavily, nursing his throbbing foot, he felt a sudden, excruciating empathy with Lex, Chloe, and even, god forbid, Lana, and the way he must have made them feel, so many, many times over the years. The life of a superhero's love interest sucked!
*****
Clark didn't see Lex again for a week. Perry gave him hell for not securing the exclusive to match his Superman one - You're only as good as your last story, kid - and finally handed him an entire in-tray of human interest stories to cover, telling Lois she had the superhero beat to herself. She smiled like a barracuda, and leaned over Clark's desk, flashing her impressive cleavage, and what even Clark could tell was a new La Perla bra (the top story in the tray was the lengths - and expense - Metropolitan women went to to seduce men). It was the last straw. He fled to the bathroom with his cellphone, and dialled the penthouse.
"Get your ass in here," he hissed into Lex's answering machine. "You're ruining my career." Then he hung up quickly, before he could add, like the thirteen year old girl he was, and why haven't you *called* me?
To be fair to Lex, he made damn good time, appearing through the newsroom window before Clark had made it back to his desk. To be unfair, he didn't seem to be fighting very hard to get away from Lois, who had him pressed up against the side of her own, and was questioning him rather aggressively.
There was no mistaking his sigh of relief, though, when he caught sight of Clark. "Hi, Clark," he said breathlessly.
"You know each other?" Lois demanded.
"Yes," Lex said, extricating himself from her clutches. "Superman introduced us. He said he was a good friend, and I could trust him implicitly."
Clark felt a sudden rush of joy, despite himself. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. Do you want to do the interview here? Or do you want to go for lunch somewhere?"
Lois' jaw dropped incredulously. "Are you serious?" she asked. She glared at Clark. "He's seeing someone, you know. Incompetently, but still."
"What? Huh?" Clark gaped at her.
"Lex'll kill you for this," she said fiercely.
"Oh! No..."
"I'm seeing someone myself, Ms Lane," Lex said firmly. "This is a business lunch."
"You are?" Clark breathed.
"I am," Lex repeated.
"Is it serious?" Lois asked hopefully.
Clark stared resolutely at the carpet tiles.
"Yes," Lex said firmly, staring right at Clark. "I love him very much."
"Him?" Lois hissed. "Is that why Superman never returns my calls?"
Lex just smiled. "No comment, Ms Lane," he said, and took a firm hold of Clark's wrist. Clark stared at him in stunned silence. Lex laughed then, and shrugged, sweeping Clark up into his arms, and flying smoothly through the window as though he'd been doing it all his life, and not for a bare fortnight.
The last thing Clark heard as he burrowed his face into Lex's warm shoulder was Lois' irritated, "Oh, that's just typical. They're all gay."
*****
The next few weeks were simultaneously the happiest, and the most frustrating, of Clark's adult life. On the one hand, he woke up every morning in Lex's king size bed, and more and more of his belongings were migrating to the penthouse without Lex ever batting an eye. On the other, he woke up every morning alone in Lex's king size bed, and he needed his laptop and his playstation to fill the long nights he spent there, also alone.
Between natural disasters, the criminal element's attempts to reassert itself, and maintaining enough of a presence at Lexcorp to fight off Lionel Luthor's continuing machinations, Lex never seemed to sit down, much less sleep. Clark found himself getting up earlier every day than he had since Smallville, so he could be sitting on the balcony when Lex finished patrolling, ready to drag him into the bedroom and force him to lie down for a while. He'd found out the hard way that if he didn't, Lex would just shower and change, and head off to work. It was beginning to show - there were black smudges under his eyes the best makeup couldn't hide - and while Metropolis as a whole seemed happy with Ultraman's performance - enough so to give Superman a pang, anyway - there were rumours flying thick and fast about Lex Luthor's life of debauch, and chickens come home to roost.
Those single, snatched hours were almost perfect though, and Clark wouldn't have traded them for anything. Lex was usually half asleep by the time Clark had managed to unzip the suit and tuck him into bed, but never so much so that he couldn't pull Clark in after him. They lay there as the sun rose over Metropolis, bodies wrapped around each other, kissing lazily, until Lex fell all the way asleep, and Clark got up to go and get ready for work. By the time he came back in to kiss Lex goodbye, Lex was generally up again and typing one handed, snapping orders into his cellphone. It was far from satisfactory, and still more than Clark had dared to hope for. In hindsight, he should have known it couldn't last.
The house of cards finally collapsed one stormy afternoon as two jetliners nearly collided over Metropolis airport. The news broke in over continuing LNN coverage of an earthquake in Aceh, and the heavy handed Russian response to a theatre bombing in Chechnya. Clark didn't stop to turn his computer off or put on his coat, walking out of the Planet's newsroom in his shirtsleeves, Lois and Jimmy calling worriedly after.
When he got home Lex was sitting on the floor of the shower, cape a sodden mess blocking the plughole, water flooding out across the tiles and into the hallway. He didn't struggle as Clark wiped the mud and blood off his face, just closed his eyes and leaned hard on Clark's shoulder. By the time Clark had him stripped and dried he was crying silently, wracking sobs making his whole body shake, so Clark switched out the lights, unplugged the phone, and climbed into bed with him.
Sometime in the middle of the night he woke to the whispered, "Is it favouritism to put Metropolis first? How do you decide? Is it just numbers? The Chechnyans were children."
"You can't save everyone," Clark answered fiercely, knowing full well how little that had meant when Jonathan said it to him. "You do your best, that's all you can do."
"You could have done better," Lex insisted. "You would have known what to do. I had a plane in each hand, and I could hear so many people screaming, I didn't have a clue."
Clark sighed. One conversation they had managed to have was the one about lying. "Maybe," he said at last. "Things might have been different. But I've had a lot more practice. I had all the time in Smallville, before Superman, to get used to what I could and couldn't do."
"I can't do this anymore."
"Sure you can. You'll get better."
"I can't. I can't do it." Lex sat up suddenly, throwing off the covers. "My stock price is plummeting, and I don't care about the money, but there are going to be layoffs if I don't turn it around. And I'll go crazy if I have another day like today. I can still hear those kids crying for their mothers. The world needs Superman, not some pathetic coward who's too afraid to do what he has to."
Clark sat up too. "You're not a coward, Lex."
"I am. I'm too afraid to lie on a table and let you... I'm too afraid to trust you."
Clark pulled him close. "You're not afraid to tell me how you feel," he said, stroking Lex's face. "And that's braver than I've ever been."
Lex snorted.
"It is. And whatever happens, whatever you decide, I'll back you up. I'll help you be the best Ultraman you can be, or I'll be Superman and make sure you remember everything. It's up to you."
"You won't take the easy way out? The reset button?"
"I swear, Lex. I want to be with you, and that means you now, not some Stepford clone. I didn't understand when I was a kid, I honestly thought you were happier. But now I do. I know you couldn't live like that."
Lex swallowed hard. "Okay then. We'll do it tomorrow."
*****
Opening the box containing the kryptonite was the hardest thing Clark had ever done, but Lex was looking at him with such trust and naked affection that he forced himself to do it. Lex shuddered a little, paling visibly, but he reached out and grasped Clark's clenched fist. Clark grabbed his other hand and held it tight, lacing their fingers together. He nodded at his father, and as Jonathan flicked the switch on the generator, Clark leaned in desperately to kiss Lex. Their mouths met hungrily, then the world went green and Lex convulsed in Clark's arms. Clark held him tighter as he felt the tremors start in his own body, then all was mercifully black.
He came to to the sight of his mother frantically scooping the kryptonite back into its container, and his father disconnecting the wires jury rigged to the generator. Lex was sprawled on the ground a few feet away. Clark lurched to his hands and knees, crawling over, and shook Lex urgently.
"Lex! Lex!" he shouted. "Wake up."
Lex stirred and moaned, opening his eyes. "Clark?"
"Oh, thank god! Lex, I'm Superman!"
"What?" Lex tried to sit up.
"I'm Superman, and I'm a jerk!" Clark helped him up, but kept a tight arm round him. "Well, I'm an alien, but also I'm a jerk. You hit me with your car! I keep standing you up on dates! I'm the worst boyfriend in the world!"
"No, Clark..."
"I am! Ask Lana! Ask Chloe! No, don't, just take my word for it. I'm terrible. But I'll get better, just give me a chance. I swear..."
And then Lex started laughing, great heaving laughs that shook his whole body. "Oh, Clark," he choked out at last.
Clark took a deep breath. It was obviously too much to take in all at once. "It doesn't matter," he said. "I'll tell you again tomorrow, and as many more times as I have to. I love you. I'm going to do this right."
Lex stopped laughing, and took Clark's face firmly in his hands. "I know you are," he said with absolute certainty. "And you don't have to tell me, I know. I remember."
"Oh." Clark squirmed, embarrassed.
"But tell me again how much you love me, I like that part."
Clark did.
*****
Every Me and Every You
I know laurab1 also has a story inspired by this episode, but it was coincidence. I toyed with cutting this bit out, but it was integral to the overall arc of the universe.
Attempting to find a silver lining, however, I spent the day in bed and wrote fic! It's the next installment in my Lex and Clark go to Metropolis (aka the Lois & Clark AU) series.
This one's inspired by the Season 3 episode Ultrawoman. As usual, the setting's L&C Metropolis, Lois is from L&C, and Clark and Lex are from Smallville. Enjoy!
Prior parts here:
Cleaning Up is Hard to Do
World Enough and Time
And the new one:
I, Superhero
In the end, becoming Superman was surprisingly easy. A garish costume, a couple of spectacular rescues, actually sticking around afterwards to take the bows, and before long Clark was the toast of Metropolis. It felt like cheating to write his own exclusive interview, but he just couldn't face Lois and her relentless probing. Ten minutes with her and he knew his answer to Question 14: What's the best part of being a superhero? wouldn't have been the crowd-pleasing, paper-selling, "Knowing that I make a difference," it would have been, "It takes my mind off Lex." And that would have been disastrous, in so many different ways.
So Clark spent his days writing up his own exploits, hoping all the while it wouldn't give him some kind of complex, speaking about himself in the third person, and his nights patrolling the streets of Metropolis. Crime rates started to drop, the third month, but he still stayed out till dawn, fetching cats out of trees and helping drunk tourists find the way back to their hotels. He also gave a lot of inspiring speeches to school kids, juvenile delinquents, and AA meetings. It was easy to be lantern jawed and sternly heroic when his heart was slowly freezing over inside.
Lex, on the other hand, seemed to be passing the time in schizophrenic glee, alternating between taking over every company unfortunate enough to have caught his eye, and performing astounding acts of charity. He opened a new children's hospital, endowed several hundred scholarships to Metropolis University, and singlehandedly paid to refurbish every public school in the city. For some reason the latter irritated Superman more than the former, and he and Luthor, as he insisted on calling him, took to sniping at each other constantly in the press. Clark was scrupulously fair about the whole thing, and reported Lex's side of the story in as much detail as Superman's. Which did not remotely help his incipient personality disorder.
In a time of such stunning urban renewal and economic growth, and the lowest statistics for violent crime in the country, the mayor and councillors of Metropolis had no difficulty whatsoever deciding who to proclaim as joint Men of the Year. And so it came about that Clark found himself standing next to Lex at the reception, smiling for the cameras and wondering if Lex had worn a pink shirt deliberately, in order to clash with him.
*****
The first part of the evening passed in a peaceable enough blur, the mayor making a boring speech which had less to do with education or social policy and more with his own re-election campaign, the trophies being awarded, Lex responding charmingly, Superman mouthing a few platitudes he'd had drummed into him at home and could whip out to suit any occasion, and dinner being served. Clark hoed into the rubbery chicken, and left Lex to make small talk with the rest of the high table.
Once the plates were cleared, however, things began to go horribly wrong. The mayor allowed himself to be dragged onto the dance floor - super hearing informed Clark that his wife had the actual connections, and was not ashamed to play the card when required - and the other councillors wandered off in ones and twos toward the bar. Lex refrained from joining them, but made a point of catching the waitress' eye every time she walked past. Clark stared desperately at the table cloth, and tried not to count the brandies. It had been a minute consolation when Lex walked in as resolutely dateless as he was, but being stuck alone with him was torture.
"So," Lex said at last, looking pointedly at Superman's cape where it draped over the chair back and threatened to trip the wait staff. "I take Tempus' point about the costume."
Clark glared at him and put on his best Superman tone. In the presence of armed robbers it sounded menacing. In Lex's it sounded strangely desperate. "Mom made it."
"Of course." Lex smiled sharkishly. "I suppose I should be grateful it's not plaid."
Now that was below the belt. "You said you wanted to be friends!" Clark hissed.
"You said you were going to tell me everything," Lex hissed back, with double the vitriol.
"It's not my fault that every time I try to a busload of nuns and orphans goes off a bridge, or some nutcase…"
Clark broke off as Lex's waitress pulled a small but deadly looking weapon out of her bra.
"…takes you hostage…" he trailed off lamely.
Lex sighed. "Of course. You're here. Naturally my life is in danger."
"Don't blame him!" the waitress/hostage taker snapped, taking careful aim at Lex's head. "You brought this on yourself. You closed down my department and put my entire team out of work."
Lex looked scandalised. "I did not. The Luthorcorp/Lexcorp transition was implemented without a single job loss."
The woman's hand shook. "You merged Weapons of Mass Destruction with Archives! It was obvious you wanted us to quit!"
"Uh, yeah," Lex drawled, evidently feeling the seven - not counting! - brandies, and still not having mastered the fine art of not provoking one's captors. "Because I'm not a psycho."
"Psycho?" the waitress/hostage taker/disgruntled former employee shrieked. "We're the best at what we do. Our prototypes are brilliant! Watch this."
She pulled the trigger.
Clark had just enough time to get between them, wrapping himself around Lex and knocking him to the floor. The beam emitted by the weapon was a familiar emerald green, but apart from bathing them in a sickly glow, and making Lex madder than he already was, it didn't seem to do anything.
"Get off me," Lex hissed, elbowing Clark ungratefully in the ribs and clambering to his feet. It hurt. He'd clearly been working out.
The mayor's security detail appeared with creditable speed, subduing the struggling woman and removing her, though not before Lex announced that if that was all her department was capable of it would have soon been closed in any case, at which she almost broke free. He was evidently more flustered than he first appeared - that or he was sobering up - because he declined the mayor's offer of a police escort home, and asked Superman to accompany him instead. Clark decided to take it as an olive branch, and agreed.
He felt a little ridiculous, walking the streets of Metropolis in full costume - the cape really only worked in flight - but it was a nice night, and he knew a Lexian apology when he heard one. He was working up to one of his own when he heard the screech of over-stressed brakes. He smiled sheepishly at Lex, leaped into action, and tripped over his own feet, falling humiliatingly into the gutter. Lex gaped in horror, then blurred before his very eyes, streaking across the street in a flash of black and pink, and catching the car with one hand.
Clark staggered over, and tried to at least look like he was the man of the hour, as the terrified driver opened his eyes.
"That was… unexpected," said Lex.
"Huh," said Clark.
*****
Three hours and an entire bottle of aspirin later, it still hadn't proved a bad dream. Clark lay on the swing on his parents' front porch and watched as Lex zipped in and out of sight, stopping occasionally to mumble about transference technology and the perils of untrammelled scientific research, then disappearing into the ether once more. It was neither manly nor heroic, but Clark wanted to cry.
"You could think of it as a vacation, honey," his mother said in her best let's look on the bright side momvoice.
"Is that my tractor?" Jonathan demanded in his most incredulous Luthors are the devil and this one is worst of all dadvoice.
Clark peered into the gloom. Trust fate, that bitch, to have a sick sense of humour. He should have known he'd wind up really needing glasses. Sure enough, the tractor was on top of the barn roof, together with a feeding trough, a couple of forty gallon drums, and a maniacally grinning multi-billionaire.
"Lex Luthor, get down here this instant," he yelled. "And put that stuff away before a black helicopter comes to get us."
Lex stopped smiling. "Sorry," he mumbled, and in a flash everything was back in its proper place.
"Sorry," Lex repeated as he sat down on the porch step. "It's just been kind of fun, testing it all out. I can't see why you mope so much, this is fantastic. Hey! Can I set things on fire? How does your heat vision work?"
"Lex!" Irritation made his voice sharper than he'd intended. If he'd known he could rely on Lex to geek out rather than freak out, he'd have told him in the beginning and saved himself years of stress and loneliness.
"Sorry." Lex had the grace to look embarrassed. "I guess we should figure out how to switch back?"
Clark relaxed. "Actually we already know that one."
"Oh." The look on Lex's face switched to disappointment, but he covered it well. "Okay, let's do it."
"Right. It's easy. We just need to join hands and hang onto some kryptonite."
"Really?"
"Well, that and electrocute ourselves. Just a bit."
And just as fast the look cycled through panic, to disbelief, to outright fury. "No."
"Lex."
"I said no."
"Lex…"
"God damn it, Clark, what is the matter with you?"
"It's not dangerous, Lex, I swear. Eric was fine."
"Yeah." Lex shook his head in utter contempt. "Well, I wasn't."
"What? Lex, I… Oh. Oh." Not for the first time, Clark wished the earth would open up and swallow him. "Lex…"
"You know," Lex interrupted, practically shaking with suppressed emotion. "People call me cold, say I'm arrogant and unfeeling. But your selective amnesia stuns me." He stepped off the porch and into the enveloping darkness. "I guess I'll see you round."
Clark jumped to his feet. "Lex, for God's sake! You can't just keep my powers!"
Lex looked back over his shoulder. "Really?" There was no trace of a smile on his face. "Watch me."
*****
Lex spent the entire next week fooling around, enjoying his newfound superpowers. Clark phoned in sick, and spent the days on the couch, watching tv and cringing every time a UFO or sonic boom was reported. He cheered up a little when Lex accidentally set the penthouse on fire, but Lex obviously heard him laughing, because he smiled right into the news camera, nothing loth to be seen on network television in his pyjamas, and said that unfounded enmity aside, Superman might have showed up to ensure the neighbours weren't inconvenienced.
Things could have continued that way indefinitely, but on the ninth day a mudslide swept through a village in Bangladesh, trapping hundreds of people in their homes. Clark sat on his couch in numb horror as orphaned children cried, old women prayed, and LNN reporters wondered loudly where Superman was. There was no answer on any of Lex's numbers, and in that moment Clark had never hated him more.
A sudden crash from his bedroom caught his attention, and he ran in to find Lex struggling through the window from the fire escape. He looked awful, caked in mud from head to toe, his black jeans and t-shirt barely visible.
"Let's go," he snapped.
"What? Lex, are you bleeding?" Clark reached for the smear on Lex's face.
"It's not mine," Lex said tersely. "Come on. I need you."
"Lex…"
"I need you, Clark. I know I've been an asshole, but put on the damn suit and come wave your arms around, distract everyone so I can get those people out."
The relief was so strong Clark wanted to hug Lex. And then he thought, hell, maybe that was exactly what he should do. Lex stiffened for a second, then melted into the embrace, hugging him back tightly.
"My reporters have full editorial control in the field," he whispered against Clark's neck. "I didn't tell them to say that stuff about Superman."
"Okay," Clark whispered back. "Let's go. We can talk when we get back."
*****
It took them three days to dig the last survivors out of the rubble and rebuild the access roads into the village. Superman made as much commotion as possible, carrying babies out of the wreckage and occasionally passing within range of the cameras. The news crews chafed behind their newly imposed safety cordons, and cursed the unwonted (and unwanted) interference of their CEO and his OSH regulations. And Lex worked like a fiend, never once pausing to draw breath, though Clark noticed he got quieter and more drawn by the hour, and there were clean trails in the grime on his face.
By the time they were done, Clark was tireder than he'd ever been, and Lex could barely stay upright, super powers notwithstanding. Superman disappeared into the night, and Clark Kent re-emerged, to the shock and amazement of the Planet's foreign correspondent for East Asia, and the ill concealed fury of the LNN reporters, who made little attempt to rein in their complaints of favouritism, even as Lex himself walked past. It was a sign of Lex's exhaustion that he let it pass without comment, allowing Clark to bundle him into the waiting car, and onto the Lexcorp jet waiting at the airport.
They flew back to Metropolis in silence, Lex's pleasure in a job well done spoiled by embarrassment at not being able to make it back under his own steam.
"I'm really proud of you," Clark said at last. "You did better than I did, my first time. Lex?" But when he leaned over the aisle to check on him, Lex was fast asleep. Clark covered him in one of the purple and black blankets from the overhead locker, then curled up to get some rest himself. He had a favour to ask of his parents, and he didn't think getting their agreement was going to be easy.
*****
Lex flinched visibly as Martha's hand slid up his inner thigh, just brushing the hem of his boxers. Clark figured it was fair recompense for the first time Lex had had him fitted for a tux, without telling him how tailors got their measurements.
"Stay still," Martha mumbled around a mouthful of dressmaker's pins.
Jonathan caught Clark's eye from his perch on the table, and they shared a manly grin. The spectacle before them made up for a lot.
"Does it have to be so tight?" Lex asked in a weak voice.
"It cuts down on wind resistance, sweetheart," Martha replied.
Lex sighed.
"And it stops people from looking at your face," she added wickedly.
Lex gave a strangled moan and flushed scarlet. The entire length of his body. Clark had forgotten he did that. He shifted uncomfortably, remembering other times he'd seen it.
Lex caught the movement, and rallied. "The colours you picked are very nice, Martha," he said sweetly. "Subtle. Understated. And this fabric is much more flattering than lycra." He shot a poisonous look Clark's way.
Jonathan burst out laughing. "You look like a gay trapeze artist."
Lex turned the sweet smile on him. "I could borrow some of your clothes and be a gay cowboy."
The laughter died. "You could just give Clark his powers back."
"Or you could use your brains," Lex retorted, "since you still refuse to share any useful information with me, and think of a way to do that that doesn't involve pumping a million volts through me."
"Lex, honey…" Martha sighed. "You know we wouldn't do anything to hurt you."
"I don't know anything of the kind," Lex snapped. "And I'm sorry to be rude, but I just don't trust you. Any of you. If I let you do this, I'll probably wake up tomorrow back in Paris, with a three month hole in my memory, hating Clark Kent, and just as much in the dark about Superman as anyone."
Clark leapt to his feet, stung. "Why would I do that?" he shouted. "We didn't speak for three years! Why would I want to go back to that?"
Lex flinched away from him. "Three years then. I'll wake up back in Smallville, still thinking that you're perfect."
Martha stared hard at her pinking shears, and Jonathan went to the fridge to get himself a beer.
"I'm not perfect," Clark whispered miserably.
"No," Lex whispered back, just as miserable. "But I thought you were."
"And now?" Clark didn't want to hear the answer, but he had to ask. "Do you honestly think I'd do that?"
Lex sighed and looked away, unable to meet Clark's eyes. "You've done it before," he said at last. "You let me think everything was fine. You let me go home with my father, you let me be grateful to him for what he did to me."
Clark nodded, the pain in his chest crushing and all pervasive, strangely reminiscent of the kryptonite he was suddenly immune to. "And you can't forgive me for that, can you?" he managed.
Lex bit his lip, and when he turned to look at Clark his eyes were shiny. "I forgave you a long time ago," he said. "I just don't trust you. I can't. Not with something like this."
"Okay then," Clark said quietly, but with as much of a smile as he could muster. "Let's finish the suit, and then practise flying. You're going to have to get used to passengers."
He felt a lot better when Lex managed a tiny smile in return.
*****
Wrong.
Hideously, horribly, pervertedly wrong!
That was all Clark could think as he watched Lex deposit the toddler he'd just rescued from the path of an oncoming truck into the arms of her grateful mother, and turn to work the crowd, beaming and smiling, shaking hands and shrugging off thanks. Well, that and hot. Incredibly, immeasurably, unignorably hot. Which took him straight back to wrong. He wasn't supposed to be ogling Lex, he was supposed to be taking point. Serving as wingman. Acting, as he'd promised, as a partner.
Not that Lex was having any difficulties. Oh no. He was doing just fine on his own. And if he didn't quit schmoozing and fly off soon, women were going to start throwing their underwear at him. Either that or Clark was going to spontaneously combust out of a mixture of jealousy and lust. Damn, but his mother had done a good job on the suit. And Lex was right, the textured material she'd chosen was much more flattering than lycra, its two tone purple hugging Lex's lean, muscled form in just the right places. The suits he wore every day were criminal in what they concealed. Though Clark was suddenly very grateful for the ill fit of his. He stared beseechingly at Lex, but before Lex could react a well-placed elbow shoved Clark aside.
"Lois Lane, Daily Planet," his partner said forcefully. "I have a few questions, if you don't mind."
Lex gave her his most sincere smile. "Of course, Ms Lane. Go ahead."
Lois smirked at Clark.
"Well, let's start with the obvious one then. Who are you?"
Lex smiled winningly. "I'm a friend of Superman's, and..."
"Friend, huh?" Lois snorted, eyes raking up and down Lex's body.
Lex flushed and pulled his cape closer around himself. "Yes. We... um… Yes." He cast a desperate look in Clark's direction.
Clark cleared his throat and tried to remember the story he'd prepared.
"Superman is on a top secret mission for the United Nations. Attempting to broker peace in Iraq. Afghanistan. The Sudan! Yes, the Sudan. Darfur."
"Darfur?" Lois asked sceptically, her eyebrow meeting her hairline. "Really?"
"Yes, Ma'am," Lex said, in a fair approximation of Superman's didactic tone. "The ethnic Arab militia the Janjaweed are slaughtering the African majority..."
"Yeah, yeah." Lois waved her hand dismissively. "I wrote a piece on it last year. But who are you? What's your name?"
"My name?" Lex went pale.
It was the one thing they'd forgotten. After all, Lois herself had given Superman his. Not to mention Tempus had given them advance warning.
"Ultraman!" Clark blurted.
"Ultraman?" Lois echoed.
"Ultraman," Lex sighed.
*****
"Ultraman?" Lex hissed, slamming the french doors to the balcony. "Ultraman? That was the best you could do?"
Clark hid behind one of the overstuffed cushions on the couch. "I'm sorry," he said. "It was on the tip of my tongue to say Warrior Angel."
"What? Do I look like...? Don't answer that." Lex made a visible attempt to calm down.
"It could have been worse. I nearly said Ultraboy."
"Boy?" Lex snatched the cushion out of Clark's hands and flung it into the dining room. "I'm six years older than you are!"
"But you're smaller!"
And that was the thing about emergencies. They always happened when you were trying to say I love you, or I need you, or I'm an alien. Never when you were being an ass and needed urgently to be rescued.
"You're shorter," Clark tried desperately. "Thinner."
"A delicate flower? A damsel in distress?" Lex's eyes were glowing red in a way Clark's hadn't in years.
"No," he stammered, "I just, you know. Always imagined you as the sidekick."
"I'm Seal trained, Clark," Lex said sharply. "And I have your powers. Would you like to see my sidekick?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."
"Hang on," Lex interrupted, abruptly changing tack. "You imagined? You imagined us together?"
"Yeah," Clark said miserably. "I always thought we'd be a team. You know. I'd do the rescuing, and you'd do all the talking. You're so much better at it than I am."
"That's true."
"And you'd come up with some cool gadgets for me so Batman doesn't always hear about everything first, and take charge."
"Yeah, that is really annoying how he does that." Lex was starting to smile. "Reminds me of this guy I knew at school."
"But mostly I just always thought we'd be together. After everything. The fighting and the hostage taking and the time travel. I thought we'd work it out. I know that's lame."
"It's actually really sweet," Lex whispered, leaning in. "Sweeter than I deserve, I guess."
"No, Lex, I..."
And then Lex's lips were on Clark's, stopping his voice. It was a chaste kiss, close mouthed and gentle, but it was the best thing Clark had felt in a long time.
"Thank you for going along with this," Lex whispered, still close enough that Clark could feel his breath on his lips. "I know it's making you miserable."
"It's fine," Clark insisted. "I'm fine."
Lex shook his head. "I know you, Clark," he said. "I know how much being able to help people means to you."
"Yeah," Clark said firmly, pulling back so he could look Lex in the eye. "But do you know how much you mean to me? Do you? Really?"
"Sometimes," Lex whispered hoarsely.
"I love you," Clark said, almost angrily. "I love you more than I've ever loved anything. I miss you, and I need you, and I want you. God, I want you."
Lex's mouth opened and closed soundlessly.
"And I swear I'll do my best not to hurt you any more, I'll..."
Clark gasped as Lex's hand closed around the back of his neck, pulling him roughly forward. He managed to turn his head enough to avoid bumping noses, but their cheekbones still collided, and he knew his would bruise later. And he couldn't have cared less, because Lex's mouth was opening, tongue sliding wetly across Clark's lips, and then they were kissing, really kissing, finally after all this time.
And just as abruptly they weren't. Lex pulled back, hands dropping, and Clark felt it like a physical blow. "What? No!" he forced out. "Lex..."
"Clark, I can't..." Lex looked confused, and his gaze flicked back and forth between Clark and the open balcony doors.
"Don't go!" Clark shouted.
"Oil refinery!" Lex shouted back, and then he blurred and disappeared.
Clark kicked the coffee table in frustration, and as he sat down heavily, nursing his throbbing foot, he felt a sudden, excruciating empathy with Lex, Chloe, and even, god forbid, Lana, and the way he must have made them feel, so many, many times over the years. The life of a superhero's love interest sucked!
*****
Clark didn't see Lex again for a week. Perry gave him hell for not securing the exclusive to match his Superman one - You're only as good as your last story, kid - and finally handed him an entire in-tray of human interest stories to cover, telling Lois she had the superhero beat to herself. She smiled like a barracuda, and leaned over Clark's desk, flashing her impressive cleavage, and what even Clark could tell was a new La Perla bra (the top story in the tray was the lengths - and expense - Metropolitan women went to to seduce men). It was the last straw. He fled to the bathroom with his cellphone, and dialled the penthouse.
"Get your ass in here," he hissed into Lex's answering machine. "You're ruining my career." Then he hung up quickly, before he could add, like the thirteen year old girl he was, and why haven't you *called* me?
To be fair to Lex, he made damn good time, appearing through the newsroom window before Clark had made it back to his desk. To be unfair, he didn't seem to be fighting very hard to get away from Lois, who had him pressed up against the side of her own, and was questioning him rather aggressively.
There was no mistaking his sigh of relief, though, when he caught sight of Clark. "Hi, Clark," he said breathlessly.
"You know each other?" Lois demanded.
"Yes," Lex said, extricating himself from her clutches. "Superman introduced us. He said he was a good friend, and I could trust him implicitly."
Clark felt a sudden rush of joy, despite himself. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. Do you want to do the interview here? Or do you want to go for lunch somewhere?"
Lois' jaw dropped incredulously. "Are you serious?" she asked. She glared at Clark. "He's seeing someone, you know. Incompetently, but still."
"What? Huh?" Clark gaped at her.
"Lex'll kill you for this," she said fiercely.
"Oh! No..."
"I'm seeing someone myself, Ms Lane," Lex said firmly. "This is a business lunch."
"You are?" Clark breathed.
"I am," Lex repeated.
"Is it serious?" Lois asked hopefully.
Clark stared resolutely at the carpet tiles.
"Yes," Lex said firmly, staring right at Clark. "I love him very much."
"Him?" Lois hissed. "Is that why Superman never returns my calls?"
Lex just smiled. "No comment, Ms Lane," he said, and took a firm hold of Clark's wrist. Clark stared at him in stunned silence. Lex laughed then, and shrugged, sweeping Clark up into his arms, and flying smoothly through the window as though he'd been doing it all his life, and not for a bare fortnight.
The last thing Clark heard as he burrowed his face into Lex's warm shoulder was Lois' irritated, "Oh, that's just typical. They're all gay."
*****
The next few weeks were simultaneously the happiest, and the most frustrating, of Clark's adult life. On the one hand, he woke up every morning in Lex's king size bed, and more and more of his belongings were migrating to the penthouse without Lex ever batting an eye. On the other, he woke up every morning alone in Lex's king size bed, and he needed his laptop and his playstation to fill the long nights he spent there, also alone.
Between natural disasters, the criminal element's attempts to reassert itself, and maintaining enough of a presence at Lexcorp to fight off Lionel Luthor's continuing machinations, Lex never seemed to sit down, much less sleep. Clark found himself getting up earlier every day than he had since Smallville, so he could be sitting on the balcony when Lex finished patrolling, ready to drag him into the bedroom and force him to lie down for a while. He'd found out the hard way that if he didn't, Lex would just shower and change, and head off to work. It was beginning to show - there were black smudges under his eyes the best makeup couldn't hide - and while Metropolis as a whole seemed happy with Ultraman's performance - enough so to give Superman a pang, anyway - there were rumours flying thick and fast about Lex Luthor's life of debauch, and chickens come home to roost.
Those single, snatched hours were almost perfect though, and Clark wouldn't have traded them for anything. Lex was usually half asleep by the time Clark had managed to unzip the suit and tuck him into bed, but never so much so that he couldn't pull Clark in after him. They lay there as the sun rose over Metropolis, bodies wrapped around each other, kissing lazily, until Lex fell all the way asleep, and Clark got up to go and get ready for work. By the time he came back in to kiss Lex goodbye, Lex was generally up again and typing one handed, snapping orders into his cellphone. It was far from satisfactory, and still more than Clark had dared to hope for. In hindsight, he should have known it couldn't last.
The house of cards finally collapsed one stormy afternoon as two jetliners nearly collided over Metropolis airport. The news broke in over continuing LNN coverage of an earthquake in Aceh, and the heavy handed Russian response to a theatre bombing in Chechnya. Clark didn't stop to turn his computer off or put on his coat, walking out of the Planet's newsroom in his shirtsleeves, Lois and Jimmy calling worriedly after.
When he got home Lex was sitting on the floor of the shower, cape a sodden mess blocking the plughole, water flooding out across the tiles and into the hallway. He didn't struggle as Clark wiped the mud and blood off his face, just closed his eyes and leaned hard on Clark's shoulder. By the time Clark had him stripped and dried he was crying silently, wracking sobs making his whole body shake, so Clark switched out the lights, unplugged the phone, and climbed into bed with him.
Sometime in the middle of the night he woke to the whispered, "Is it favouritism to put Metropolis first? How do you decide? Is it just numbers? The Chechnyans were children."
"You can't save everyone," Clark answered fiercely, knowing full well how little that had meant when Jonathan said it to him. "You do your best, that's all you can do."
"You could have done better," Lex insisted. "You would have known what to do. I had a plane in each hand, and I could hear so many people screaming, I didn't have a clue."
Clark sighed. One conversation they had managed to have was the one about lying. "Maybe," he said at last. "Things might have been different. But I've had a lot more practice. I had all the time in Smallville, before Superman, to get used to what I could and couldn't do."
"I can't do this anymore."
"Sure you can. You'll get better."
"I can't. I can't do it." Lex sat up suddenly, throwing off the covers. "My stock price is plummeting, and I don't care about the money, but there are going to be layoffs if I don't turn it around. And I'll go crazy if I have another day like today. I can still hear those kids crying for their mothers. The world needs Superman, not some pathetic coward who's too afraid to do what he has to."
Clark sat up too. "You're not a coward, Lex."
"I am. I'm too afraid to lie on a table and let you... I'm too afraid to trust you."
Clark pulled him close. "You're not afraid to tell me how you feel," he said, stroking Lex's face. "And that's braver than I've ever been."
Lex snorted.
"It is. And whatever happens, whatever you decide, I'll back you up. I'll help you be the best Ultraman you can be, or I'll be Superman and make sure you remember everything. It's up to you."
"You won't take the easy way out? The reset button?"
"I swear, Lex. I want to be with you, and that means you now, not some Stepford clone. I didn't understand when I was a kid, I honestly thought you were happier. But now I do. I know you couldn't live like that."
Lex swallowed hard. "Okay then. We'll do it tomorrow."
*****
Opening the box containing the kryptonite was the hardest thing Clark had ever done, but Lex was looking at him with such trust and naked affection that he forced himself to do it. Lex shuddered a little, paling visibly, but he reached out and grasped Clark's clenched fist. Clark grabbed his other hand and held it tight, lacing their fingers together. He nodded at his father, and as Jonathan flicked the switch on the generator, Clark leaned in desperately to kiss Lex. Their mouths met hungrily, then the world went green and Lex convulsed in Clark's arms. Clark held him tighter as he felt the tremors start in his own body, then all was mercifully black.
He came to to the sight of his mother frantically scooping the kryptonite back into its container, and his father disconnecting the wires jury rigged to the generator. Lex was sprawled on the ground a few feet away. Clark lurched to his hands and knees, crawling over, and shook Lex urgently.
"Lex! Lex!" he shouted. "Wake up."
Lex stirred and moaned, opening his eyes. "Clark?"
"Oh, thank god! Lex, I'm Superman!"
"What?" Lex tried to sit up.
"I'm Superman, and I'm a jerk!" Clark helped him up, but kept a tight arm round him. "Well, I'm an alien, but also I'm a jerk. You hit me with your car! I keep standing you up on dates! I'm the worst boyfriend in the world!"
"No, Clark..."
"I am! Ask Lana! Ask Chloe! No, don't, just take my word for it. I'm terrible. But I'll get better, just give me a chance. I swear..."
And then Lex started laughing, great heaving laughs that shook his whole body. "Oh, Clark," he choked out at last.
Clark took a deep breath. It was obviously too much to take in all at once. "It doesn't matter," he said. "I'll tell you again tomorrow, and as many more times as I have to. I love you. I'm going to do this right."
Lex stopped laughing, and took Clark's face firmly in his hands. "I know you are," he said with absolute certainty. "And you don't have to tell me, I know. I remember."
"Oh." Clark squirmed, embarrassed.
"But tell me again how much you love me, I like that part."
Clark did.
*****
Every Me and Every You
I know laurab1 also has a story inspired by this episode, but it was coincidence. I toyed with cutting this bit out, but it was integral to the overall arc of the universe.