Archive of Our Own ^beta

Lex stared in astonishment at the figure splayed out before him, quite possibly the last person he expected to see in a disused warehouse in this part of Hobb's Bay.

Superman was bound tightly to a metal gurney with thick leather bands that were a very familiar shade of green, and his fists were clenched tightly, although he didn't seem to be in pain. In fact he looked slightly embarrassed.

"I suppose I should offer my congratulations." Lex said at length.

His companion, The Atomizer, laughed. It was a disturbing sound, tinged with mania, and Lex rolled his eyes in annoyance. He hated most of the idiots that he came into contact with in his role as Superman's arch-nemesis. They were, almost without exception, unhinged in some way. As far as he could tell, he was the only one out of the whole sorry lot of them that wasn't completely deranged.

The Atomizer was new on the scene, and Lex was beginning to think that, despite some very suspect fashion choices, he might actually have some higher brain functions. Since he also appeared to know about Superman's weakness to kryptonite, Lex thought he may pose some problems. He fingered the ring on his right hand thoughtfully. He didn't know how The Atomizer even knew of kryptonite's existence, much less acquired some of the meteorite fragments.

"What do you intend to do with him now?" Lex asked, leaning over the prone superhero.

The Atomizer beamed in delight and scampered away towards a bank of controls that flanked one wall of the warehouse. "You'll get a kick out of it, Mr. Luthor. Believe me!"

Lex moved in closer towards Superman, leaning his forearms on the lip of the gurney as The Atomizer pumped levers and flicked switches. He peered down at the alien's immobile face and sneered. Superman's bright blue eyes were strained, betraying the pain that he was obviously trying so hard to ignore.

"It seems that you've met your match, Superman." Lex said as he trailed his fingers along the restraints that bound the superhero. "You never learn, do you? You think you're unstoppable, but this just proves how wrong you are."

Lex's nimble fingers worked at the buckles as he talked. Superman's eyes flickered towards Lex's fingers then up towards Lex's face, his brow creased in puzzlement. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but Lex silenced him with a swift shake of his head.

The machine behind them roared into life, and The Atomizer gave a guttural shout of triumph in response. Lex used the opportunity afforded by the commotion to finish freeing Superman's arms. By the time The Atomizer returned Lex was examining the complex equipment at the foot of the gurney with what appeared to be his complete attention. The Atomizer sidled towards Lex, his eyes glittering triumphantly beneath his ridiculous conical hat.

Lex could see Superman struggling to sit up in his peripheral vision, so he put his arm around The Atomizer's thin shoulders and pulled the other man close to his side. "This is impressive. Some sort of laser I believe."

The Atomizer grinned and ducked his head. "I was hoping you'd like it."

"You were?" Lex asked, confused.

"Yeah, you're my hero, man. You're, like, the main guy in super-villain circles. I mean, the Joker's cool and everything, but you've got all the real power and everyone knows it."

Something in The Atomizer's demeanour made Lex suspicious, and he tilted his head to get a better look at the other man's face. Guileless blue eyes widened under Lex's scrutiny.

"How old are you, kid?" Lex asked with a sigh.

"Eighteen," The Atomizer said in a voice barely louder than a whisper. "But this'll work. I know it will. I've been studying everything I can find about Superman and I'm taking advanced Physics classes at MetU. I swiped the meteor rocks from the Geology lab, no one even knew what they were. Can you believe that! Anyway, I figured that if I could focus an intense beam of light through a shard of the rock then -"

The kid's words were cut short as one very strong finger tapped him on the back of the head. His knees buckled, and he crumpled to the ground in a tangle of limbs and purple spandex cape. The ridiculous hat fell from his head and rolled away across the floor to bump impotently against Superman's booted feet. Both Lex and Superman regarded the hat in silence for a time.

"Why did you free me?" Superman asked finally as he stooped to pick up The Atomizer.

Lex shrugged. He was tired of explaining this. "No one's going to have the privilege of killing you except me."

"He's only a kid, Luthor." Superman looked as if he wanted to laugh but was manfully resisting. Lex clenched his right hand into a fist and manfully resisted punching the alien in his smug face.

"That kid had you bound with kryptonite restraints so that you couldn't escape." Lex patted the laser at his side meaningfully. "And despite its resemblance to a certain James Bond prop, this thing would probably have succeeded in cutting you clean in two if I hadn't stepped in. I've got plans for something very much like it at one of my labs."

The smug grin disappeared from Superman's face, and his arms tightened around The Atomizer's prone form slightly. Exactly how he thought an unconscious kid could ward off Lex Luthor, Lex couldn't begin to guess. Maybe he was planning to throw him at Lex's head.

Lex smirked and took a step towards Superman, ostensibly to better examine the unconscious boy's face, but in reality he just liked how uncomfortable the alien became when he stood close, ring or no ring. "How did he even capture you in the first place?"

Superman eyed Lex suspiciously, but for once he didn't attempt to move away.

"He just asked me to follow him," Superman mumbled.

Lex laughed, a short and explosive expulsion of breath that surprised Lex as much as it seemed to surprise Superman, who looked at Lex as if he'd just sprouted a full head of hair. "And you did?" Lex asked, a little shakily.

Superman's expression grew sheepish. He looked down and to the side, seemingly entranced by a crack in the concrete floor. "He looked like a really sweet kid without the costume on."

Lex threw his hands into the air as if beseeching answers from the heavens. "I can't believe I haven't managed to kill you yet."

Superman grinned broadly before launching himself into the air. He hovered near Lex for a moment, smiling down at him. "Not that I want to tell you how to do your job or anything, Luthor, but I think that not helping your enemy to escape when he's in mortal danger is a good first step."

Superman had the nerve to laugh before swooping out of the warehouse. No doubt he would let the kid off with a stern lecture about `doing the right thing' and `revaluating the course of his life'. For once Lex almost hoped it would work, but whatever happened he'd have to keep a close eye on The Atomizer.

Lex put in a call to Hope as he walked out to the limo, ordering her to track down a certain MetU student and send a team round to collect The Atomizer's weapon system. If The Atomizer could be persuaded to stop going after Superman on his own, he might be a valuable addition to the LexCorp R&D team. If not, then he would find his life in Metropolis very difficult indeed.

It was dark when Lex arrived back at the penthouse. He didn't bother to turn on the lights, just walked unerringly through the gloom and fixed himself a drink at the bar. The penthouse seemed more oppressive than usual, stuffy and close as if the air conditioning hadn't been on all day.

Lex loosened his tie as he moved over to the balcony doors, flinging them open to let the cool night breeze stir the foetid air inside. He suddenly hated the penthouse more than usual. When his father died, he'd taken over the LuthorCorp tower and made the penthouse his own. It had seemed like a victory of sorts, dismantling the last vestiges of Lionel's hard won empire, and imprinting it with his own brand.

But it had never felt like home. Even when he'd removed everything his father had ever touched, Lionel's ghost still lingered. Often, Lex would resolve to move back to his own apartment and turn the damned penthouse into office space. In his heart, though, he knew that he would never move. He would never give his father the satisfaction, even in death.

Lex leant against the balcony railings, a glass of scotch at his elbow and watched the city live below him. He loved to watch the city like this. The people of Metropolis could disappoint him, and very often did, but Metropolis herself was always beautiful, always beloved. He could only hope that he could achieve enough in his city that she would always bear his mark, even long after he was gone.

Of course, karma dictated that he couldn't even have one peaceful evening to enjoy his city. A voice hailed him from overhead, and Lex grimaced. There were only a very select number of people in Metropolis who could be floating around his penthouse under their own power, and Lex was certain that Booster Gold valued his LexCorp sponsorship too highly to be bothering its CEO during his free time.

Sure enough, Lex looked up and saw Superman hovering several feet away. Lex raised his glass and gave him a wry grin. "Beautiful evening, isn't it, Superman?"

The alien ignored his salutation, hanging in the air with his arms folded across his broad chest and an expression on his face that bordered on the constipated.

"Obviously not," Lex conceded, lowering his arm and taking a long gulp of his scotch. It wasn't the best way to enjoy finely aged liquor, but sometimes a swift journey to inebriation was the only option.

Superman watched him drink impassively.

"Is this an official visit?" Lex asked when it appeared that Superman wasn't planning on leaving any time soon. "I assure you that I haven't done anything that would warrant your attentions since the last time you saw me. I've only just arrived home."

Superman didn't say anything, but his expression did become even more twisted, to the point that Lex had to wonder if he did indeed have bowel trouble. Not that he knew if the alien actually had bowels. The thought just made him wish that he could get Superman onto a dissection table, and the fact that he hadn't managed that feat yet darkened his mood still further. And to think he actually thought that he might have salvaged something enjoyable out of this crappy day. It was one of Superman's lesser known superpowers, Lex mused: the ability to totally fuck up Lex Luthor's life.

"I'm not here in an official capacity," Superman said finally, his words clipped and precise as if this were a speech that he'd been rehearsing.

"So you just popped over for a glass of scotch and a chat because we're such great friends?" Lex laughed at his own joke, but Superman merely looked even more stricken.

Lex choked back his laughter almost as soon as it started. The path to Spandex capes and punning aliases was paved with solitary laughter.

"I'm serious, Luthor." Superman flew back and forth above the balcony like a normal man would pace as he was gathering his thoughts. He stopped just above Lex's head so that Lex had to strain his neck to look up at him. "I wanted to say thank you for saving me today," he said hurriedly.

Lex raised one eyebrow at his visitor. "Thank you?"

"I guess that you were right. I don't think I would have escaped if you hadn't helped me."

Lex didn't think that Superman looked very grateful. He still looked as if he'd eaten something that didn't agree with him.

"Okay then. Is that all? It's getting late and I have an early meeting tomorrow." Lex looked at his watch pointedly. He really didn't have time for this.

Superman frowned intently as if reading some internal checklist.

"I said thank you," he said again, slowly and deliberately in the tones of one talking to a small child or unusually intelligent dog.

And suddenly Lex was honestly tired. He couldn't even begin to guess what Superman thought he was trying to achieve.

"I told you at the warehouse that I wasn't saving you out of the goodness of my heart. I do want you dead, Superman, but I want the pleasure myself. I don't want some upstart nobody doing it for me. If I wanted that, I could have hired someone long ago and saved myself a lot of headaches."

Superman seemed to mull this over for a moment. "The Atomizer doesn't seem like a bad kid, really. He's very smart and he's just got a bad case of hero worship for you. You could use that Luthor. Turn him onto the right path, and I'm sure he could do great things for this city."

Lex snorted. "Nice try, Superman, but what makes you think that I have any interest in what happens to some kid who has the bad taste to have me as a role model?"

Superman descended slowly so that his eyes were level with Lex's. "You could do great things, Luthor. You've got so much talent that you're wasting. I wish that you could see that."

Lex hated Superman so much he could barely breathe past the tight knot of anger in his chest. He threw his glass at the alien's head, and it shattered on Superman's temple, spraying both of them with miniscule shards of glass and droplets of scotch.

"Who the hell are you to judge me?" Lex screamed at Superman in frustration. "To tell me how I should be living my life? Who made you my moral fucking guardian anyway? I never asked for it and I really don't need it."

Superman wiped his face clean, eerily calm in the face of Lex's anger. Lex had made grown men cry in the boardroom just by raising his voice, but Superman remained unruffled.

"I just think that you could be so much more, Luthor." Lex was disgusted to see something akin to pity in Superman's eyes. He had been acquitted by juries of his peers on several occasions; he refused to be judged on his actions by an alien.

He'd often thought that Superman didn't bring out the best in him, forced him to make stupid and reckless decisions. Unfortunately, he proved himself right.

He leaned as far as he could over the balcony railings, so that his face was only inches from Superman's. Superman's eyes widened a fraction, but he held Lex's gaze steadily.

"I am what you made me, Clark," Lex spat, storming away from the balcony and into the kryptonite-laced protection of his penthouse before Superman had the chance to react.

Lex's morning meeting was with representatives from Espere Biotech, Europe's largest pharmaceutical company, and it was not going well. A partnership between the two companies was a vital component of Lex's plan for his company's expansion into Europe, but he wasn't at his best. He'd finished a rather excellent bottle of scotch the night before. It was Superman's fault of course, something that he'd never usually do on the eve of an important meeting. He wasn't on form, and Espere's VP, Simon Edwards, was using it to his advantage.

He'd already managed to secure licensing agreements for several LexCorp technologies that Lex had been determined to withhold. That seemed to have bolstered Edwards' confidence somewhat. Perhaps he thought that Lex Luthor's reputation as a ruthless negotiator had been gravely exaggerated. At this moment, Lex would be inclined to agree.

"Our CEO has grave concerns about a number of reported experiments taking place in LexCorp labs," Edwards said, propping his feet on the conference table as if he were sitting in his own living room. "You must understand that Espere prides itself on its unblemished record of..." Edwards' voice trailed off into silence, and he gaped at something over Lex's shoulder. "There appears to be to be a man in a brightly coloured suit hovering outside your window," he said, raising one thin black eyebrow in amusement.

Lex closed his eyes for a moment and prayed to a God he didn't believe in. Please be Booster Gold. Even Captain Marvel would be acceptable

"Is that Superman?" one of the Espere executives said with childlike glee, and Lex knew that God certainly didn't believe in Lex Luthor.

He breathed deeply and swivelled his chair around to face the window. The Espere executives were scrambling out of their seats all around him and waving in an attempt to attract the superhero's attention. Superman ignored them, however, his eyes intent on Lex's face.

"We don't really have many superheroes in Europe, you understand," Edwards said dryly from his seat beside Lex. "You'll have to forgive everyone's excitement, but they were hoping to catch a glimpse of him while we were in Metropolis."

"Understandable," Lex muttered, motioning for Hope and Mercy to leave their positions by the door and get outside. He didn't need to turn around to know they reacted immediately. He'd learnt some valuable lessons from his time in Smallville, and the importance of security that actually did their job was one of them.

"Gentlemen, I'm sure Superman has some important mission he needs to attend to," Edwards said, leaning back in his chair, "and we have important matters to discuss."

The executives tore themselves away from the window and sloped back to their seats, with many a backward glance. Lex took the opportunity to swap his seat for one on the other side of the table so that he could keep a better eye on Superman. Not that the alien was doing anything other than staring in through the window forlornly like a grossly oversized Tiny Tim.

A couple of minutes later, when the meeting had finally resumed, Superman shot upwards out of view. Lex smiled in satisfaction. Obviously Hope and Mercy had reached the roof, and he could concentrate on business as he should.

Before Lex could even raise the next point on the agenda, however, Superman was back and staring at Lex again. Lex stumbled over his words and lost his place in his notes.

"Perhaps we should draw the blinds?" Edwards suggested, belatedly covering his smirk with his hand.

"It won't work," Lex said morosely. "He has x-ray vision. Several millimetres of aluminum won't stop him."

"Then perhaps you should go and see what he wants. He appears to be trying to get your attention."

Edwards, damn him, was right and there was no way he could concentrate with Superman's eyes boring into the side of his head.

"I'll just be a moment, gentlemen," Lex excused himself and made his way quickly to the stairs that led to the roof.

He rubbed his kryptonite ring compulsively as he walked. He wasn't exactly afraid of Superman. The alien had never attacked him physically, apart from the one time that Lex had been foolish enough to go up against him in one of LexCorp's prototype battle suits, but Lex had admitted that he knew Superman's civilian identity. There was no way of knowing how the alien would react.

What worried Lex more were the rumours - rumours that came from as reliable sources as one could find amongst the criminal underworld - that Superman possessed a seldom used power that allowed him to make people forget whatever he wished. Having suffered through the rape of his mind and subsequent memory loss once before, Lex would almost prefer it if the alien did break every bone in his body.

Besides, he carried his own weapon on the ring finger of his right hand. He ignored the traitorous little voice that reminded him that Hope and Mercy had kryptonite bullets in their guns and Superman had apparently made short work of them.

Superman was floating by the stairs when Lex emerged onto the roof. He drifted away a little, out of the range of the ring's effects and crossed his arms over his chest which Lex recognised meant that he had something to say that he considered vitally important .

"Is there any particular reason that you're hanging around my office and disrupting my meetings? Apparently you're quite the celebrity in Europe, and my guests can't concentrate on their work for all the excitement."

"Sorry. I just needed to talk to you." Superman did indeed look a little chagrined.

Lex was a little taken aback. A thank you and an apology, both within twenty-four hours. He hadn't thought Superman had it in him.

"And you couldn't have just phoned?"

Superman glowered at Lex. "I just wanted to ask you why you called me Clark last night."

There seemed to be little reason to lie now. Lex knew how to own his mistakes and accept the consequences.

"Because that's who you are," Lex said flippantly. "Was it supposed to be a secret?"

Lex expected stammered denials, maybe even a blow to the head that Superman hoped would induce temporary amnesia. What he didn't expect was the softening of Superman's expression as he drifted slowly to the floor.

"Yeah, it was supposed to be," Superman said with a wry grin. "How did you know? No one else has ever figured it out. Not even Lois."

Lex rolled his eyes. "Lois Lane is a fine journalist, but even she has her blind spots. She's always seen Clark Kent as a bumbling klutz from the sticks and likely she always will. You have seem to forgotten that I knew him when he was younger and much less adept at lying. I knew who you really were the moment I first saw Superman. Or, did you also forget just how much time I spent in the Kawatche caves?"

"But you've never tried to harm me as Clark Kent, or any of my friends." Superman sounded genuinely puzzled.

"And what would be the point of that? I want to defeat Superman. I don't think defeating Clark Kent, ace reporter, would have the same cachet. Besides, I hate Clark Kent but I don't actually want to kill him."

"But we're the same person!" Superman shook his head in confusion. "That doesn't even make any sense, Luthor."

It made perfect sense to Lex. He owed a great deal of his sanity to his ability to compartmentalise Clark Kent as a completely separate entity to Superman.

"It doesn't have to make any sense, Superman. All you need to know is that I have no intention of interfering with Clark Kent's life." Lex started walking towards the staircase before pausing and adding, "Oh, and a word of advice, Superman. Not even a first grader would consider a pair of glasses an adequate disguise. I'd look into alternatives if you honestly don't want anyone else to figure out who you really are."

A gentle hand on his arm surprised Lex. Glancing down, Lex noticed that the veins on the back Superman hand were straining darkly against his tanned skin.

"Luthor, if you're telling the truth, then there's no reason that we have to be like this." Superman looked almost hopeful despite his obvious discomfort, and his grip on Lex's arm tightened slightly. "When I'm Clark Kent, I mean."

Lex wrenched his arm free and moved away with a snarl. "Why the hell would I want that? Weren't you listening earlier? The only difference in my feelings for Clark Kent and Superman is that I don't actively want to kill Clark Kent. I've no interest in changing the status quo."

"The thing is, Luthor," Superman shuffled his feet in a horribly familiar way, "I've, um, I'd like it if I could talk to you sometimes. I've missed you." The last was said in a rush and directed towards Superman's shiny red boots.

Lex had honestly never been so shocked in his life. Or so confused. He walked away as quickly as he could while still retaining some dignity. Superman's voice drifted after Lex as he jogged down the stairs.

"Luthor! Wait, Luthor!" There was a pause and then, "Lex, please!"

Lex set his shoulders, and his steps didn't falter as he continued back down to his office and his disrupted meeting.

The meeting with the Espere delegation had not been the total disaster that he had feared it might become after his little sojourn to the roof. It looked like Espere and LexCorp would actually be able to forge a strong and mutually beneficial partnership in the future, despite Lex's distraction. He suspected that Edwards would never stop smirking knowingly at him, but it was a small price to pay.

After the meeting concluded, Lex set his security team to searching for Hope and Mercy. They found the two bodyguards tied up and gagged in a storage room on the thirty-second floor. They were furious and extremely apologetic for failing to capture Superman but, apart from a few rope burns caused by their struggles to escape, completely unscathed.

When Lex retired to the penthouse for the night they followed him as closely as was humanly possible without actually sharing his suit, pointing their guns enthusiastically into every shadowed corner that they passed. Lex appreciated their zeal - they were professionals and were mortified by what they saw as their shameful defeat at the hands of Superman - but they were making him uncomfortable. He dismissed them to their quarters as soon as he stepped through the door to the penthouse. They left only with great reluctance after making him promise to keep his panic button on hand at all times.

He eschewed his usual post-work glass of scotch for a tumbler of imported Russian vodka that made his eyes water as he drank it. He didn't want to think about his conversation with Superman. He'd spent almost ten years carefully not caring about what Clark Kent may or may not think about him and he was not going to allow himself to start now. If it took another night of alcoholic oblivion to achieve that, then so be it.

Half-way through his second tumbler of vodka, something thumped against the balcony doors so heavily that several books fell off the bookcase on the opposite side of the room and something that sounded horribly like a Meissen vase shattered against the parquet floor in the hallway. Lex was almost afraid to look, but he was a Luthor and he was stronger than his fears, so he barely hesitated before turning his head toward the doors.

A large white dog was sitting beyond the glass with its long red tongue lolling out of its mouth and looking a little dazed. If Lex's eyes weren't deceiving him - and he was certain he wasn't drunk enough for that yet - the dog was wearing a cape.

The dog barked once, wagged its tail, and then trotted away along the balcony. Lex rubbed his eyes wearily. Sometimes his life resembled a storyline that even silver-age Warrior Angel writers would have discarded for being too unbelievable.

Lex's thumb hovered over the panic button for a moment before he reconsidered and threw it down onto the coffee table. If he knew anything about flying animals that wore capes, it was that they tended to be linked with Superman in some way. The alien would no doubt be loitering somewhere nearby and, if his current obsession with Lex hadn't abated, he doubtless wouldn't leave until he'd seen Lex, during which time the flying dog would no doubt have ruined Lex's beautifully designed roof garden.

He had no desire to speak with Superman again, but he was no coward. He could take anything Superman could throw at him, even unwarranted bouts of sentimentality, especially if he had his vodka to come back to.

The dog was indeed ruining the roof garden. It was tearing around at great speed knocking over plants and disturbing the carefully raked patterns in the Zen rock garden, barking excitedly as it ran. Superman was flying desperately after the dog hissing, "heel Krypto," and "God, please just stop." Lex would have almost found it amusing if he hadn't already spotted that his favourite piece of sculpture was now lying in chunks at the bottom of the pool.

"I think your dog could perhaps benefit from obedience classes," Lex shouted up at Superman as he passed overhead. Superman stopped so suddenly that he almost dropped from the sky.

"God, I'm so sorry, Lex. I thought I'd finally got him trained properly, but now he just won't listen to me."

"Luthor," Lex corrected Superman with a sigh. "'I'm so sorry, Luthor.'"

Superman floated down to stand next to Lex. Their shoulders brushed slightly as Superman settled, which alerted Lex to the fact that he'd forgotten to put his ring back on before he left the penthouse. He shoved his right hand into the pocket of his pants and fervently hoped that Superman was too distracted to notice how closely he was standing to Lex without feeling ill.

"Why exactly did you bring a superpowered dog to my penthouse?" Lex asked as he and Superman watched the dog chew its way through the legs of a wrought iron bench.

Superman blushed, something which Lex had never seen the alien do before. It made him look very human, and Lex had to quickly divert his attention elsewhere. Unfortunately, the only other thing of any interest in the garden was the dog, which was gagging on a lump of metal.

"I didn't bring him," Superman mumbled. "He's supposed to be locked up in the Fortress until he can behave himself. He must have escaped and followed me here."

"Followed you here? To my penthouse?" Lex snorted. "Why were you even here for him to find you?"

"I wanted to see you," Superman said.

Lex could sense Superman raising his hand to clasp at his arm again, and he stepped aside hurriedly. For no other reason, of course, than that Superman would know that Lex wasn't wearing his usual protection if it didn't cause him pain when they touched.

"What ever happened to the super-monkey you used to have?" Lex asked, pointedly avoiding whatever conversation that Superman was trying to have with him. The super-monkey had caused a lot of destruction in Metropolis the previous summer. It was amazing how much damage such a small animal could do when it was capable of flinging its own shit at supersonic speeds. The clean up had taken weeks.

"Beppo?" Superman sounded decidedly cagey. "He, um, went missing."

Lex grinned. He had it on good authority that Superman had led the unfortunate primate into deep space and then flown back to Earth so quickly that it had no chance of following him. "Perhaps, if you're lucky, the dog will go missing too. Where did all these super-powered animals come from anyway?"

"Jor-El sent them. Sending random crap to Earth seems to have been a popular Kryptonian pastime." Superman sighed heavily and moved to stand in front of Lex so that Lex had no choice but to look at him. His expression was a little desperate.

"Look, I didn't come here to discuss the Legion of Super-Pets" - Lex's grin broadened. Only Superman could have given a bunch of dangerous animals such a self-important name -"but there's so much I do want to talk to you about."

Lex's smile slipped from his face. "We talked about this earlier today, Superman, and I thought I made my position abundantly clear. I have no wish to talk to you at all. If the only words I ever hear from you again are when you're begging me for your life, I will die a happy man."

Superman offered Lex a small, lopsided grin. "You're talking to me now."

"Go to hell, Superman," Lex snarled, turning on his heel. "Only make sure that you clean up after your damned dog before you do. If you're not both gone in five minutes, I'm sending out Hope and Mercy, and they've never been more determined to hurt you than after what you did to them this morning."

Superman didn't reply and, much to Lex's astonishment, he didn't try and follow Lex when he walked away.

Lex ventured out onto the roof garden just before midnight. Apart from a new rockery that looked suspiciously like it might once have been a Henry Moore sculpture, there was no sign that his superpowered visitors had ever been there. Superman had even managed to replant all the trees that the dog had uprooted and rearrange the gravel into an aesthetically pleasing scalloped pattern.

Somehow, the fact that Superman had carried out Lex's requests to the letter made Lex suspect that Superman had indeed finally grasped the fact that Lex did not appreciate his fumbling attempts towards some sort of reconciliation. He wanted a clean slate, and Lex was willing to give him that in an exchange for a return to the status quo. Superman was much easier to hate if he kept at a distance and didn't start trying to break down all the compartments Lex had carefully constructed in his mind over the years.

It didn't exactly make him happy to think that he and Superman would be true enemies once more, but nothing about his relationship with Superman ever made him happy: angry, frustrated and occasionally even satisfied, but not actually happy.

Lex didn't see Superman for the next week. Even before Superman decided to start stalking him, Lex was guaranteed to see the alien at least once a day, flying past his office window or tailing him with little to no attempt at concealment as Lex travelled between his labs. But for seven glorious days the skies were clear. Even news reports on the alien's meddling seemed to become less frequent. It was like a taste of heaven for Lex, a glimpse of how his future would look once he managed to destroy Superman.

Like all good things in Lex's life, it wasn't to last.

When he returned to work from a very productive business lunch on the eighth day, Lex saw something that stopped him dead in his tracks. There, sitting on the steps leading up to LexCorp Towers, wearing a hideous plaid shirt and the stupid glasses that were too big for his face, was Clark Kent.

Lex immediately tried to duck out of sight as soon as he saw Clark. Unfortunately, it wasn't particularly easy to hide from someone who could move faster than a speeding bullet and see through the walls behind which one might have reasonably expected to be able to hide.

"Hey," Clark said, peering over the low wall that Lex was crouching behind. Lex made an elaborate show of retying his shoelaces to make sure that it was obvious to anyone watching that he had stopped for just that reason before he straightened up.

"Hello," Lex said cautiously. Lex could deal with Superman and he could deal with Clark Kent, Daily Planet reporter, but he had no idea how to deal with this: a Clark Kent who looked a lot like a friend he used to have a long time ago.

Lex suddenly realised that he hadn't just separated Clark Kent from Superman. He'd also separated Clark Kent, the Daily Planet reporter who'd made it his life's work to expose Lex Luthor, and Clark Kent, the fifteen year old boy who'd kissed him back to life. Lex was sure that this sort disassociation was unhealthy, but he'd never stuck with a therapist long enough to be able to tell. Even without professional help, he could trace it all back to when he was twenty-three, when he was living in Smallville, and had discovered that it was quite possible to hate someone and still find their life more precious to you than your own.

"I thought that you might find it easier to talk if I wasn't, you know..." Clark waved his hand vaguely, miming a cape fluttering in the breeze.

It appeared he was never going to give up, and there was still a tiny part of Lex that could not refuse Clark anything he asked for.

"As it appears you are incapable of taking no for an answer, I suppose you I can spare an hour or so." In fact Lex had meetings all afternoon, but they could be rearranged. He was pathetic. One glimpse of a plaid shirt and a few quiet words and he'd regressed thirteen years.

Clark grinned, looking genuinely pleased. Lex found himself returning the smile automatically, a Pavlovian response to Clark's happiness. The smile felt uncomfortable on his face, like he was using muscles that hadn't been exercised in years.

"Do you mind if we go up to my penthouse? I'd like to be on site if there are any emergencies."

Clark shook his head, a blush spreading across his cheeks for some reason that Lex couldn't even begin to guess.

The security guards that flanked the private elevator to Lex's apartment couldn't hide their curiosity as Lex led Clark passed them. Lex could hardly blame them for being interested - in the two years since his fourth marriage broke up Lex hadn't invited a single person up to the penthouse.

Clark was silent throughout the ride up to the penthouse, his eyes fixed on a point far beyond the confines of the elevator car. Lex had to wonder whether he was scanning the building for secret labs or vast storerooms full of weaponry, both of which Lex was sensible enough to have located far away from his headquarters and home.

Clark looked wary when he followed Lex into the penthouse, his shoulders rounded as if he expected attack at any moment.

"I deactivated the defence systems when I unlocked the door, and Hope and Mercy are safely ensconced in their own quarters," Lex reassured Clark. "Though they are on orders to maintain combat readiness."

Clark smiled uneasily, his eyes darting around as if he expected Hope and Mercy to burst through the walls at any moment wielding kryptonite daggers.

"Would you like a drink?" Lex motioned for Clark to follow him into the living room.

"Do you still get those fancy bottles of water?" Clark asked hesitantly.

"Of course," Lex decided that it was probably best if he stuck to water as well. He couldn't really afford to be anything other than in full control of his mental faculties. "You make yourself at home while I fetch us some," he said, gesturing towards one of the leather couches.

Lex lingered in the kitchen for a while after he'd taken the bottles out of the refrigerator. He was acutely aware of Clark's presence in the next room, and it was setting his nerves on edge. Now that he had a chance to pause and think, he couldn't understand why on earth he'd invited Clark into his home. It felt almost natural to have Clark nearby again, but he thought that it was probably the vestiges of a habit he'd lost long ago, back when Clark had always been a welcome visitor to his home.

He'd never expected reconciliation between them and he'd long since given up wishing for it. On his worst days, he'd liked to imagine Clark crawling to him, begging him for forgiveness which Lex would delight in denying him, but that too had passed. In recent years, Lex hadn't liked to think of Smallville or Clark Kent at all, but Clark's presence was causing feelings that Lex had thought long buried to bubble up to the surface.

Part of him was hoping that they could at least forge some sort of amicable relationship, even if they could never be friends again. However, he majority of him was just screaming, `Don't you realise that you've let fucking Superman into your home?' and `Don't you remember how much he hurt you and why the hell would you want to risk that again?' It was several minutes before Lex felt up to the task of speaking to Clark. When he finally returned to the living room with the bottles of water, Clark was examining the objets d'art on Lex's bookcases with apparent interest, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. Lex took a moment to really look at Clark. He never looked at Superman in anything other than anger and he rarely noticed anything other than Clark's horrible suits when he was confronted with him as a reporter.

Clark had bulked up since he was a teenager and lost all of the coltish awkwardness that Lex remembered from those days. He now moved with the grace of a man who was comfortable with his own body and its power. He appeared taller, although Lex suspected that was simply because he no longer curled in on himself, as if trying to take up as little space as possible in the world, but that only appeared to be a facet of this Clark. Clark Kent the reporter overplayed the stoop-shouldered bashfulness to the point that he was almost a parody of himself.

"Here's your water," Lex said, handing the bottle to Clark before settling on the couch.

Clark took a seat on the opposite end of the couch from Lex, as far away as he could possibly get without actually moving into the hallway. He cradled the bottle of water in his massive hands and said nothing at all. Lex took a couple of swigs from his own bottle, adjusted his cufflinks and undid the top button of his shirt. Clark simply stared at his knees.

Lex cracked first. "How's your mother?" he asked, even though he probably knew more about Martha Kent's health and financial situation than her son did.

"She's good." Clark grunted before lapsing into silence again.

"And Chloe? Is she enjoying Gotham?"

"Yeah, she seems to be." Clark turned the bottle around in his hands but didn't seem as if he was going to drink it. Lex had to wonder why he asked for it in the first place.

That only left Lana, and no power on Earth would induce Lex to mention her name in Clark's presence. Uncomfortable silence reigned once more.

Lex turned his head to look out of the window and tried to remember what he and Clark had talked about back when they had been friends. He could remember earnest entreaties for advice about girls, begging for favours and, especially towards the end, angry accusations of wrongdoing, but nothing about any normal conversations they had. And they must have had them, surely. That's what friends did or so Lex, whose experience with friendship began and ended with the man sitting next to him, had been led to believe. He did have many vivid memories of playing pool for reasons he didn't like to dwell upon. He drained his bottle of water in three large swallows.

When Lex turned back to Clark, he found that the other man was already looking at him. Clark blushed when their eyes met and he turned his attention hurriedly back to the bottle he was clutching between his knees. Lex recalled that Clark had blushed all the time as a teenager, but it wasn't quite such an endearing trait in a man of twenty-eight. In fact, it just served to annoy Lex now.

"Well, are you going to tell me the reason you've been so desperate to talk to me or did you only come around here so that you could fondle one of my bottles?"

Clark snorted in amusement. "There's just so much, Lex. I don't know where to start. I wasn't lying the other night, I've missed you." Clark peered up at Lex through the messy angle of his bangs. "I've always suspected that you knew that I was Superman and I thought that you were trying to kill Superman because the fact that it was me, not despite it."

"And where do you suggest we go from here, Clark? Did you honestly believe we could just put aside our differences and become friends again?"

"Well, I, um," Clark stammered, looking wounded. "I don't think you should dismiss it out of hand."

"We have a lot of history, Clark, and most of it is unpleasant. We've been enemies a lot longer than we were ever friends." Lex smiled thinly. "You couldn't abide the choices I made when we lived in Smallville, and I was a comparative saint back then. You know that better than anyone. Our friendship couldn't survive that the first time round; what makes you think that it would be any different now?"

"I was a kid back then. I didn't realise a lot of things I should have." Clark shuffled along the couch so that he was slightly closer to Lex. "I'm just asking that you give it a chance, Lex. How can things be any worse than they already are?"

For once, karma actually smiled on Lex. His cell phone rang, giving him a graceful out from what was fast becoming a horribly uncomfortable situation. Clark's face fell.

"Lex?" he asked plaintively.

"Okay, okay," Lex said distractedly, waving his hand as he checked the number on his cell. He smiled grimly. He'd been waiting for this call for months.

"I just have to take this," he told Clark, walking toward the kitchen.

"I really hope this is good news, Light." Lex cupped his hand around the phone as he closed the door - not that it would have made the slightest difference if Clark decided to try and listen into the call. "I don't think we can take another setback."

"It's the best news, Luthor," Doctor Light growled. "The equipment's arrived, and we need you here now."

Lex closed his eyes briefly. "I'll be there as soon as I can. I've just got to say farewell to a guest. Make sure that you keep a close eye on the Joker until I get there."

Two days later, Clark rang Lex on his cell phone as Lex was riding home from the theatre in his limo.

"How did you even get this number?" Lex asked, making a note on his Blackberry to have his number changed.

"Abused my journalistic privileges," Clark answered, not sounding in the least bit ashamed about it.

Lex made another note on his Blackberry to investigate his staff for the source of a possible breach in security. "What do you want now, Clark?"

"I was just wondering if you'd like to meet up some time this week. You know, if you've got the time."

Lex's fingers tightened around the phone until the plastic creaked.

"Um, Lex, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Clark. Just wondering what gave you the impression that I might like to spend some more time in your company?"

"Well, you did," Clark said, sounding mortified. "I asked you to give things another chance and you said, `okay'."

Lex rubbed at his eyes with his free hand. He did vaguely recall agreeing to something, but he'd been so distracted by his phone call from Doctor Light he hadn't quite remembered what it was. "Will you ever stop bothering me if I say no?"

"No," Clark said, and Lex could hear the smile in his voice.

"Fine," Lex sighed, "I'll meet with you this once, but if it doesn't work out, you have to promise me that there will be no pestering me at my office or loitering around the penthouse in the hopes I'll reconsider. I'm giving you one chance, Clark."

"You won't regret it," Clark promised solemnly.

Lex was already regretting his decision when he walked into the restaurant to meet Clark that Saturday evening. Clark had chosen the restaurant because he had insisted on paying and all of the restaurants that Lex usually liked to eat in were out of his price range. Lex had allowed this one concession but he had refused to let Clark pick him up from the penthouse in his hideous rust bucket of a car. Compromise had its limits.

The restaurant itself wasn't unpleasant. Just the usual sort of mid-range Italian place that was indistinguishable from the countless others of its type that one found throughout Metropolis' business district. It was, apparently, Clark's favourite restaurant, and he assured Lex that the food was `very authentic.' Lex privately suspected that he and Clark had very different ideas on what constituted authentic Italian cuisine, but he was willing to reserve judgement.

There was, at least, a distinct lack of candles in wine bottles on the tables, Lex noted as he followed the maitre d' to where Clark was sitting. The other patrons of the restaurant watched him pass without even attempting to hide their curiosity. Lex pasted an aloof expression on his face and attempted to look like he ate in places such as this every day of his life. No doubt there would be scurrilous rumours in the papers tomorrow, speculating on just who Lex Luthor was dining out with as, obviously, he was trying to hide them from the public eye by straying so far from his usual haunts. If he thought he would have any chance of success, he would have killed Clark.

For some reason - perhaps he had given some thought as to the possibility of dark rumours - Clark had chosen a table at the very rear of the restaurant, partially hidden by a partition and a large potted plant. Clark half rose when he saw Lex, a huge and rather fatuous smile plastered across his face. Lex glared at Clark to make sure that he was aware of his vast displeasure, but Clark's smile inexplicably only grew wider.

The maitre d' handed Lex a menu and departed with a rather unpleasant looking smirk on his face. Lex decided that he would report the restaurant for health and safety violations regardless of whether or not he actually died from the food.

"You look good, Lex," Clark said, still beaming.

Lex looked down at himself, puzzled. He'd made no special effort and looked much the same as he always did, but Clark had never complimented him on his attire before.

"So do you, Clark." Lex returned the compliment out of politeness without really thinking about it.

On closer inspection, however, Lex had to admit that Clark did look good. His suit was well cut and emphasised his broad shoulders, and Lex found he could look at Clark's tie without feeling like he might be stricken blind - or at least wishing he would be. Clark had even ditched his trademark glasses for a more stylish pair that actually flattered the shape of his face and the mossy green of his eyes.

"Did Lois dress you tonight?" Lex asked, casting his eyes over the wine list and shuddering.

Clark's smile became a little brittle. "No, I'm a big boy now. I'm actually fully capable of dressing myself."

Clark stared at Lex a little longer than was strictly comfortable before saying, "I didn't think you'd actually turn up."

Lex chuckled. "Well, I did go back to the penthouse twice before I finally made up my mind to come."

"I'm glad you did, Lex." Clark's smile returned in full force. "I know you have every reason not to want to us to get involved with one another again, but then, so do I. I just got tired of wishing things were different. I was so scared about how things might go wrong that I never tried to figure out how I could make them be right. I'm glad you decided to give this a chance."

"So am I," Lex found himself saying inexplicably.

Much to Lex's surprise, the evening went quite well. He had expected it all to end in an argument, if he was lucky, but more likely screaming pronouncements of unending hatred and a running fight across the roofs of Metropolis.

But the meal was edible, dessert might have even qualified as delicious if he was being generous, and the conversation was pleasant, if a little stilted. Obviously, much of their lives were off-limits. Lex had no desire for Clark to know any more about his work than he already did, and if Clark had mentioned Superman, Lex wouldn't have hesitated in leaving. As neither one of them wanted to drag up their past and their present was pretty much a no go area, they stuck to safe topics like books and films they had enjoyed recently.

Lex was happy to discover that Clark's tastes had improved immeasurably since he was a teenager. He too had hated the latest big-screen adaptation of Warrior Angel. Lex could even admit that it was nice to hash out all the many mistakes of that particular travesty with another person rather than just bitching anonymously at the DC forums.

Clark paid for their meal and then insisted on walking Lex back to LexCorp Towers.

"It's only a block, Clark," Lex argued, "and I have Hope and Mercy waiting outside. They're honestly very good at their jobs when they're not going up against Superman."

Clark did not look convinced. "I want to, Lex. And just think how safe you'll be with all three of us looking out for you."

Lex didn't know where this peculiar protective streak had come from but he could tell from the determined expression on Clark's face that Clark was quite willing to just pick him up and carry him if he kept on refusing.

"All right, Clark," Lex said, shaking his head in bewilderment. Clark beamed at him in triumph.

They walked the block in silence, Hope and Mercy trailing at a discreet distance behind them. Clark kept looking at Lex out of the corner of his eye and licking his lips almost convulsively. He was making Lex very nervous, and he quickened their pace.

Lex was relieved when they reached LexCorp. Clark seemed like he was about jump out of his skin, and Lex didn't want to be around when he finally snapped. Maybe the pressure of not judging Lex for a full two hours had become too much.

"I think I can make it on my own from here, Clark," Lex said, gesturing at the doors. "Thank you for the meal. I'll have to repay the favour, I suppose. I'll check my schedule and call you later in the week."

Clark's hands were curling convulsively into fists at his side, and his eyes were a little wild. Lex made a grab for the door handle in a bid to escape before he was crushed into a bloody mess on his own steps.

Clark's hand closed over Lex's, and Lex's heart stuttered in his chest. It had been a ruse after all, a ploy to catch Lex with his defences down and Hope and Mercy out of reach down the street. He looked up at Clark in desperation, ready to debase himself by pleading for his life. Clark's grip tightened and he looked dangerously resolved.

And then Clark kissed Lex. Just a quick press of lips against Lex's own, a hot gust of breath over his cheek, before Clark was stepping back, his eyes wide and shocked.

Lex couldn't breathe for a second, couldn't even think. Then something inside him broke, and he was surging forward, pressing his hands against Clark's chest and shoving him as hard as he could. Amazingly, Clark staggered backwards, catching hold of the doorframe to stop himself from falling.

"What the fuck was that?" Lex screamed at Clark. Clark blinked up at him, and his fingers tightened. The metal beneath his hand buckled.

"I thought you wanted -"

"What the hell made you think I wanted this?" Lex ran his hands over the top of his head, a nervous habit he thought he'd cured himself of years ago.

"You said that you wanted us to have another chance." Clark sounded furious, his face a dull red. He pulled himself to his feet, accompanied by the squeal of tortured metal. "I know you wanted this back when we were in Smallville. It took me years to realise that I wanted it too, but we were enemies by then. When you said that we could try again, I thought -"

"I never wanted this." Lex gestured between the two of them with an angry flick of his wrist. "I don't what I did to make you think that I did. I don't even like men in that way and I never have."

Clark's mouth worked silently for a moment before he stammered, "Lex, I'm sorry. I thought -"

"I don't care what you thought." Lex wrenched the door open with shaking hands. "You're delusional. I don't think I will be taking you out for that meal after all. In fact, I think it would be best if you stay far, far away from me."

Clark nodded mutely, his hands clutching the bottom of his jacket tightly as if he was scared of what he might do with them if he let go.

"Everything's set, Luthor," Doctor Light said, punching at some random keys on the keyboard in front of him. "We've got thirty minutes."

"Good," Lex said as he paced distractedly around the control room of the Injustice Gang satellite. "And Joker knows not to start anything before then?"

"He knows," Doctor Light said with a pointed grin.

Lex rolled his eyes in annoyance; he hated every single member of the so-called `Injustice Gang.' They were mentally unstable, often unreliable, and woefully short-sighted. They were, however, useful muscle in schemes that his usual sources would baulk at. And they all hated the Justice League fully as much as he did. Once he had inured himself to the Joker's appalling puns, he'd discovered that he could rub along with them quite well.

As long as he didn't have to actually have a conversation with any of them.

It was for this reason that he had set all the other Injustice Gang members tasks that kept them far away from the satellite and only contactable via audio feed, save for Doctor Light, who could generally be counted on to remain relatively calm and was good with the communications equipment. Lex had to remain on the satellite to oversee the Project, but he had found it was advisable to keep the rest of the Gang from being in the same room together to prevent their petty power struggles which always threatened to turn violent and distract Lex's attention from the task in hand.

Lex thrust his hands deep into his pockets as he paced to stop himself rubbing at his head, playing with his kryptonite ring, or any of the hundred other tells he couldn't quite seem to rid himself of. He didn't want Light to think that he was nervous; it wouldn't do for his subordinates to think that Lex Luthor was anything other than infallible.

But Lex was finding it hard to concentrate. He hadn't seen Clark since their disastrous date - and he was sure now that was how Clark had been thinking about their meal - but he hadn't been able to stop thinking about what he had said.

How could Clark have thought that Lex was interested in him that way? Lex had tried to recall if he had ever led Clark on in any way when they were younger but he kept coming up blank.

Sure, he had been a little obsessed with Clark, but that was because he was desperate to uncover the truth behind the lies Clark was so bad at concealing. If he'd known that a few years down the line Superman would be flying around Metropolis in a bright blue suit whilst not wearing a fucking mask, he would have conserved his resources.

And, okay, he might have looked at Clark a lot, he would even go so far as say he occasionally stared, but that was only because he found Clark so fascinating. It wasn't as if he was ever undressing Clark with his eyes or anything.

"Twenty-five minutes, Luthor," Doctor Light announced.

Lex glared at the back of Doctor Light's head in annoyance. He hoped that Light wouldn't be doing a full countdown, or he would soon be discovering just how long a man could survive in the vacuum of space without a spacesuit.

Lex resumed his pacing.

Perhaps it had been the all the grand pronouncements that Lex had made about destiny and legends; they might well have turned Lex's head when he was fifteen. Nonetheless, Lex had never meant it to sound like Clark's destiny was in his bed or anything.

Besides Clark had seen Lex with lots of women, even back in Smallville when he'd practically been a monk for the best part of two years. Where he'd got the ridiculous idea that Lex was anything other than one hundred percent straight was a mystery.

"Twen-"

"If you say twenty, Doctor Light, I shall rip out every tooth in your head with my bare hands and then strangle you with your tongue."

Doctor Light looked suitably chastened and began tapping at his keyboard again, his shoulders hunched. Lex shook his head and made a concerted effort to stop thinking about Clark. His mind had the annoying tendency to wander lately.

He strolled over to the console Doctor Light was working at and peered over the other man's shoulder. This was to be the most audacious scheme that the Injustice Gang had ever attempted since its founding. It had taken months of planning and numerous setbacks, but they had planted bombs at major public buildings in ten major cities across America. A phone call to the mayor of each city had alerted the relevant authorities to the presence of the bombs, but not their locations. They had also been informed that if a rather hefty ransom was not paid by seventeen hundred hours UCT, then the bombs would be detonated one at a time until the ransom was paid.

Lex wasn't particularly interested in the money - he earned more in a week than they were asking as ransom - but he was interested in trying to run for Kansas State Senator again.

He had LexCorp rescue teams primed and ready to help with cleanup and was more than willing to pour countless millions of his own money into rebuilding schemes. He was certain that the good publicity would help people forget all the less than complementary news stories they might have read about him over the years and do more to improve his public image than an army of spin doctors.

Becoming President was the only thing left that Lex truly desired.

"Are all the links operational?" Lex asked, leaning on the back of Light's chair.

Doctor Light jerked away from Lex's arm as if it had burned him and flicked a row of switches by his head. The bank of monitors above the console flickered to life.

Lex recognised the pictures from Metropolis immediately. The M.P.D. had done a sterling job and the streets were deserted, police cordons set up around the Daily Planet, Natural History Museum and all the other buildings that Lex had indicated in his call that afternoon. He even noted Superman flitting around the skies and occasionally floating in front of buildings as if he were scanning them with his x-ray vision.

Lex smiled in grim satisfaction before turning his attention to the other screens.

His stomach clenched in cold fear. In Gotham, Central City, New York, Washington, and all of the others, the pictures were the same. People still crowded the streets, milling in and out of the targeted buildings as if it were any normal day.

"Light, give me audio links with the rest of the Injustice Gang," Lex growled, barely able to contain his anger.

Light grimaced, but did as he was asked. The audio feeds crackled as the rest of the Injustice Gang waited for their leader to speak.

"What the hell is going on?" Lex asked, hands gripping the back of Light's chair. "Why haven't these buildings been evacuated?"

"Don't stress yourself, Lexie." Joker laughed, a sound that was strangely even more eerie when disembodied. "Now no one's going to miss the beautiful fireworks."

Beautiful fireworks? "The plan was to cause disruption and property damage, not to kill innocent civilians."

Lex never should have left such an important task as alerting the authorities of the other cities in the hands of a bunch of psychopaths. He also should have learned by now that he couldn't trust them to follow his orders since their own goals ran so contrary to his own.

"But Lexie," the Joker whined, "where's the fun in that?"

Lex clenched his jaw and breathed deeply for a moment to steady his racing heart. "I wouldn't consider the deaths of several thousand people fun, Joker. I'm rather odd that way."

"We're more likely to get our money if there's a little blood on the streets," Doctor Light offered weakly.

Lex glared at him in disgust. "I don't care about the money. I refuse to let you make me a mass murderer."

"He's just bothered about his political career," Ocean Master scoffed. "I never realised you were so squeamish, Luthor."

"I am not squeamish, Ocean Master." There might have been several casualties, and even deaths, that could be directly attributable to Lex's schemes, but they were collateral damage; they had never been the ultimate aim. "I demand that this whole debacle be called off right now, or you'll personally be finding out just how much damage I can do before it makes me squeamish."

"Never let it be said that the Injustice Gang isn't a democracy," Circe said smugly. "All in favour of Luthor's plan to cease and desist, speak now."

The only sound over the audio feeds was the hiss and crackle of static. Even Doctor Light stayed silent, despite the fact he was almost falling off his chair in an effort to get as far away as possible from Lex.

"Seems like you're overruled, Luthor," Ocean Master said finally. "Project Phoenix will continue as planned."

Lex spun away from the console with a snarl of pure rage. Doctor Light squeaked in fright and finally lost his precarious balance on the edge of his chair, landing ass-first on the floor before scrambling to his feet and scuttling off to hide amongst the banks of computers.

Lex didn't have time to follow him and dole out the punishment he so richly deserved. He glanced at his watch. He had eleven minutes until the bombs were primed to detonate.

Even if he made sure immediately that every one of those nine remaining cities knew the danger they were in, there was no way that the emergency services, or even the army, could evacuate all those people to safety.

There really was only one option open to him, and it pained him deeply to admit it.

He raced to the transport room and leapt into a Boom Tube. Seconds later he was in Metropolis and running toward the Daily Planet building.

Lex's lungs were burning with cold fire when he reached the Daily Plant building, brushing past cops who all raised their hands to stop him but dropped them when they realised who he was.

"Mr. Luthor," one of them, probably a rookie, called after him. "You can't go through this way. It's not safe!"

Lex ignored him, his eyes fixed on the caped figure flying in desperate circles far above him.

"Superman," Lex screamed as loudly as his straining lungs would allow. "Superman, I need to talk to you."

Lex looked at his watch. Nine minutes and forty-seven seconds. It was enough time. It had to be.

When he looked up again, Superman was standing in front of him, cape rippling around his shoulders. He looked almost relieved to see Lex for a split second before his face set into his usual expression of chronic constipation.

"You shouldn't be here, Luthor." Superman's tone was condescending. "It isn't safe."

"I'm afraid there's no time for our usual back and forth, Superman," Lex panted, handing his Palm Pilot to Superman. "There are bombs primed to go off in just over nine minutes in cities all over America. The schematics for all the buildings containing them are on that, along with the location of the bombs and instructions on how to defuse them. I suggest that you disseminate the information among your colleagues in the JLA and set to work making this country safe again."

Superman stared at the Palm and then at Lex with dumb incredulity. "Th-Thank you, Luthor," he stammered. "I'm sure this will be very useful."

As Superman bent his knees to take off, Lex was struck by a very real flaw in his plan. He grabbed hold of the end of Superman's cape as he sprung upwards and pulled as hard as he could.

Superman paused and turned his head to glare at Lex. "I think saving the country would probably be easier if I didn't have to drag you behind me."

"I wasn't trying to hitch a lift." Lex let go of Superman's cape and let himself fall the few feet back down to the street. "I just thought you should know that the bombs in Metropolis are encased in lead and laced with kryptonite. You should probably get one of the other Leaguers to deal with them.

Superman gave Lex an unreadable look before nodding once and flying away so quickly that the shockwaves from his passing nearly knocked Lex off his feet.

Lex retired to the deserted LexCorp building to watch the news coverage of the JLA's rescue mission in his office. He poured himself a scotch, propped his feet up on the desk and wondered why he had just thrown away his latest chance to destroy Superman. He had to admit that the JLA did good work. Only one bomb eventually detonated but, as Superman was lying over it at the time, it did no real damage. Reporter after ashen-faced reporter said what a miracle it was that no one was injured.

The dishevelled looking reporter from CNN finished his live coverage from in front of the White House with: "Superman is reported as saying that today's potential tragedy was only prevented following a tip-off from one concerned citizen. Whoever you are, America thanks you."

Lex snorted and turned off the television, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes. It was a shame that he couldn't come forward as the anonymous tipster; it would probably do his reputation almost as much good as any rebuilding works would have.

"You did a good thing today, Luthor," Superman said quietly from the doorway to Lex's office.

Lex put his hands over his face and groaned. He had long since stopped bothering to wonder how Superman always managed to sneak up on him.

"How nice of you to drop by." Lex straightened up in his seat and waved towards the bar. "Would you like a drink?"

"You saved thousands of lives." Superman sounded slightly shocked.

"Believe it or not, Superman, but I'm not actually a monster. The thought of thousands of my fellow citizens dying needlessly dismays me fully as much as it does you."

Superman walked slowly towards Lex's desk, his cape snapping around his heels. "We captured the Ocean Master, Circe, and the Joker. They said that you masterminded the whole thing."

"Well, clearly they're lying. I assure you that there's nothing to connect me with anything that happened today."

"Apart from this," Superman produced Lex's Palm from somewhere that Lex didn't like to hazard a guess at, as Superman's costume certainly didn't appear to have room for pockets.

Every muscle in Lex's body tightened in readiness for flight, adrenaline making a cold pit of his stomach. "I can explain -"

Superman slowly and deliberately closed his hand around the Palm, crushing it. He looked directly into Lex's eyes as he opened his hand again and let the shards of plastic and mangled circuitry fall onto Lex's desk.

Lex gaped up at Superman in astonishment. That Palm had probably contained enough information to get Lex thrown into prison for the rest of his life. Surely Superman wanted that as much as Lex wanted Superman dead?

"You did the right thing today," Superman said, smiling gently at Lex's shocked expression.

"But I'm not likely to do the right thing tomorrow." Lex shook his head in bafflement. "You could have held that over my head for years to keep me in line."

Superman reached over the desk and grabbed Lex's hand. "But then it wouldn't be you making those decisions, Lex. I don't want to force my will on you. There's always been a lot of good inside you, but I lost sight of that years ago."

"Not an awful lot of good, Superman," Lex said, wrenching his hand away. "Certainly not enough for you."

Lex stood up from his chair and tried to walk away from his desk, but Superman employed a small amount of super-speed and zipped in front of him, blocking his path.

"That's not true," Superman said, catching hold of Lex's hand again. "I never had any faith in your ability to make the right decisions before, but if I'd trusted you a little bit more -"

"Then we still would be right where we are today, most likely." Lex didn't bother to try and retrieve his hand again and just let Superman hold it. "You were right not to trust me; I'm a very untrustworthy man. There hasn't been a day that's gone by that I haven't plotted how to use other people to get myself ahead or planned how best to kill you."

Superman had somehow moved very close to Lex. His chest brushed Lex's own with every breath he took, and Lex's nostrils were filled with the scent of smoke and ozone. Lex's head swam, and he felt a little nauseous. He screwed his eyes closed and tried to regain his equilibrium.

"I don't mean now. I mean when we were kids back in Smallville. All you ever did was try to help me, and I just repaid you with lies. I abused your generosity and I hurt you over and over again."

"Don't -" Lex warned, but his strength was ebbing and his voice sounded weak and uncertain in his ears.

"I understand that I might have misread the signs and you don't want me the way that I want you, but I still want to be close to you. I realise that I wasn't a very good friend, but I've seen enough of the world by now to know that it's never too late for anyone to change. You said it yourself: it's my fault that you act the way you do. I just want the chance to help you, to make it up to you."

Lex's breath hitched again and again, his throat tightening like a bodily memory of the asthma he used to have as a child.

"I was angry, Superman," Lex said raggedly. "It wasn't your fault, none of it. I was broken before I even knew Clark Kent. Broken beyond fixing. I just didn't know it at the time."

"You're not broken, Lex," Superman growled, placing one strong finger beneath Lex's chin and forcing his head up.

Lex made the mistake of opening his eyes. Superman's face was only inches from his own, and his eyes - his green eyes, how had Lex ever thought they were blue? - were glistening with unshed tears.

Lex stared at Superman's face in wonder for a moment; he'd never seen the superhero's face display so much emotion before. Then he pressed his hands against Superman's broad chest, braced himself, and leant in to kiss him.

Lex's body moved on autopilot, his hands sliding across the slippery material of Superman's costume and failing to find their grip, his lips crushed against Superman's.

Superman groaned, his hand tightening around Lex's until Lex could feel the bones creak. His tongue licked at Lex's lips once, twice, before Lex opened his mouth and allowed it inside.

Superman kissed Lex desperately, his free hand clutching at Lex's shoulder like he was afraid Lex was going to bolt. The kiss lacked all finesse. Superman's teeth scraped Lex's bottom lip, and his tongue was too hard and too insistent.

Nevertheless, Lex found his hand tangling in Superman's cape, pulling him closer. Superman groaned in response and pressed his body against Lex's.

His hard cock nudged against Lex's thigh.

It was like plunging his head into cold water and it suddenly awoke Lex to the reality of the situation. He was kissing a man. He was kissing Superman. He really wasn't sure at that moment which of the two facts disturbed him more.

Lex wrenched his head aside so that Superman's lips slipped from his and slid sloppily across his cheek.

"Lex?" Superman sounded frustrated, but also a little anxious. "What's the matter?"

"The matter is, Superman," Lex disentangled himself from Superman's arms, "that I told you that I'm not interested and yet you still insist on forcing yourself upon me."'

Superman looked unaccountably amused. "You kissed me, Lex."

"I certainly did not." Lex straightened his tie and avoided looking at Superman. "I am not attracted to men, and even if I was, you would be the last `man' that I would ever kiss."

Superman's hand slid up Lex's thigh and cupped his crotch, thumb rubbing along Lex's erection. "It feels to me like you're interested."

"Remove your hand right now, or I swear to God -"

Superman's hand drifted upwards, splaying over Lex's chest then gently pushing him. Lex staggered backwards until his legs hit something solid and he sat down heavily on the edge of his desk with a very undignified grunting noise.

This was apparently the Kyptonian for `molest me now' because there was a slight breeze and then Lex's pants were halfway across the office, draped over a lamp.

Superman nudged Lex's knees apart with his thigh and then stood between his splayed legs, looking down at him with hooded eyes.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Something I wish I'd done years ago." Superman said throatily, sinking to his knees.

Lex's eyes fluttered closed. This looked so much like a thousand fantasies he'd never had. Clark sucking Lex's cock in the office at the mansion when he'd stopped by to deliver produce. Clark walking in on Lex fucking Lana Lang and staying to join in. Lex holding a chunk of kryptonite to Superman's head after he'd defeated him and fucking him into unconsciousness.

Then Superman's huge hand closed around Lex's cock. Lex couldn't help the surge of his hips, nor the moan that somehow escaped his tightly pressed lips.

"I've wanted this for so long, Lex." Superman's hand stroked lazily up and down the length of Lex's cock. "Even when we were fighting, even when you were trying to kill me, I couldn't stop thinking about how good your cock would feel in my hand."

"You're one sick bastard, Superman," Lex said through gritted teeth. "I never thought you had it in you."

"There are lots of things you don't know about me, Lex." Superman's breath gusted over the damp head of Lex's cock. "And I want you to find out about them all firsthand."

Lex's hands moved of their own accord, and he twisted the Superman's thick hair around his fingers, pushing down on the top of the superhero's head insistently. Superman chuckled, tongue trailing languid patterns along the underside of Lex's cock.

"Fuck, Superman," Lex growled, pulling at Superman's hair with enough force that it would be painful for a normal human.

"Patience, Lex," Superman said, and then he swallowed Lex's cock. Lex cried out in shock, his fingers disentangling from Superman's hair and dropping to the desk.

Superman's mouth moved slowly, taking his time to explore every inch of Lex's cock with his tongue. His hands slid up Lex's thighs, gripping so tightly that Lex was sure that he would leave bruises.

The world narrowed to three points: the cool wood beneath his skin, the pressure of Superman's fingertips against his thigh, and the unnatural heat of Superman's mouth around his cock. Everything else slipped away.

Lex found himself thrusting blindly into Superman's mouth, curling his fingers around the edge of the desk for leverage. Superman's muffled groans sped up to match the rhythm of Lex's bare ass as it slapped against the wood of the desktop.

Lex could feel the tightness building behind his balls that signalled impending orgasm. Superman seemed to sense how close Lex was, grabbing Lex's ass and holding him steady as his throat closed convulsively around the head of Lex's cock.

Lex opened his eyes and looked down at Superman. Superman's full lips were swollen and red as they stretched around the base of Lex's cock. His green eyes were fixed on Lex and hazy with lust. Even his hair was ruffled, his usual gel-slicked style mussed into absurd spikes where Lex had pulled on it. He looked nothing like Superman.

A final flick of Superman's tongue and Lex was coming, hoarsely screaming Clark's name.

Superman's mouth slipped off Lex's softening cock, and he grinned up at Lex salaciously, slowly licking his lips. He straightened up slowly, drawing Lex's attention to the way that the spandex of his costume was stretched even more tightly than usual over his straining cock.

Lex stared at Superman in dull horror. It was like one of those magic-eye pictures that had been in vogue about twenty years before, Lex thought. You could stare at one for hours and see nothing but a confused mass of colour before something clicked, and suddenly you could see a boat sailing through the depths of the picture.

Lex looked at Superman and for the first time ever saw Clark Kent wearing Superman's costume, like a kid dressed up at Halloween. The world turned over and over, and Lex felt sick to his stomach.

He scrambled off the desk, lurching across the office to pick up his pants.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Superman - no, Clark - asked, reaching out for Lex as he passed.

God, Lex didn't even know how to think anymore. He needed to get far, far away from the other man. He needed time to clear his head and process what had happened.

Clark ran his fingers gently up Lex's spine as Lex fumbled with his pants. Who decided it was a good idea to make the buttons so small anyway?

"I know this is probably a big thing for you," Clark soothed, his hands moving over Lex's back in small circles.

"I've had blowjobs before," Lex said, shrugging off Clark's hand. "And, believe me, I've had better ones."

He could sense Clark's body stiffen, and then he withdrew. Lex almost felt sorry for the other man, but he was scared and confused and his first instinct was always to lash out with intent to wound.

"What's the matter with you?" Clark sounded hurt and a little angry. "I really don't understand what your problem is, Lex, but I never will if you won't tell me. Please, just explain it to me, and we can work something out."

Clark's hand was back, closing around Lex's left biceps and pulling in an attempt to make Lex turn and face him. Lex just couldn't deal with this now, not whilst he was so aware of Clark's body and when his nerves were still thrumming from his orgasm.

Lex thrust his free right hand into the pocket of his pants to stop himself from reaching for Clark, and his fingers closed around something that he'd forgotten was there.

Almost without thinking, Lex pulled the lead ring box out of his pocket and flipped open the lid. Clark gasped, and his fingers tightened spasmodically before releasing Lex's arm.

"Lex, what the fuck -"

This was something that Lex understood. Hurting Superman was a comfortable habit, and it was easier, so much easier, than trying to make sense of his feelings for Clark right then.

Lex spun around, advancing on Clark with the open box; the kryptonite on the ring within glowed a sickly green as it forced Clark to his knees.

"So eager to suck my cock again, Superman?" Lex asked with a casual malice he didn't really feel.

Clark grimaced in pain, raising his hands to shield his face. Lex couldn't be sure whether the move was a useless attempt to shield himself from the meteor rock's insidious poison or to prevent himself from having to look at Lex's face.

"You're the matter," Lex said, edging towards the door with the box angled towards Clark. "Whether you're Superman or Clark Kent, all you ever do is fuck up my life and make me miserable."

Lex paused at the doorway and looked back at Clark. For once, he couldn't find it in himself to feel even the usual hollow sense of victory at causing Superman pain.

"I'll call you if I ever feel the need for some really mediocre sex," Lex called back over his shoulder as he slipped through the door.

There was little chance now that Clark would pursue him up to the penthouse to continue pressuring him.

Lex supposed that he should feel happy that Clark would very likely never again try to renew their friendship or press for something that Lex wasn't sure that he had within himself to give. After all, wasn't that what he'd been wishing for these past few weeks?

Lex was somehow not surprised to discover that he did not feel happy at all.

Lex didn't even bother with a glass; he just grabbed a decanter from the bar in his living room and sank down onto a couch with it.

He'd known for years that Clark Kent was Superman, but today was the first time he'd actually acknowledged the fact that his erstwhile best friend was now his arch-nemesis. There were worlds of difference between knowing a fact and actually feeling that it was the truth.

Lex had long ago learned the importance of the cutting away of diseased parts so the whole can survive, and he applied it to himself ruthlessly. Every memory that had the potential to cause him pain was carefully packed into a box and hidden away, never to be revisited.

Lex was beginning to realise that he'd hidden so much of himself away that there was little left, save for an inner core of rage and a vast emptiness that he could never satisfy. Not with money or power or sex, or any of the myriad other transitory pleasures available to a man with near limitless resources.

He unstoppered the decanter and took a long swallow of scotch.

After the scent of his mother's hair and the way Julian giggled when Lex tickled his tiny feet, Lex's attraction towards men was one of the first things he'd ever hidden away from himself. When he was fourteen, he'd been caught making out with one of his classmates at Excelsior - Paul Roberts, and if anyone had asked Lex the day before, he would have said that couldn't remember the boy's name - when they should have been in English class.

Principal Reynolds called in Lex's father and, after their meeting, Lionel lectured Lex on how homosexual relationships might have had their place in Ancient Greece, but that in modern-day America they could mean losing the respect of future business colleagues. Fourteen year-old Lex had rolled his eyes and planned to go right on making out with as many boys as he fancied, if only to piss off his father. He'd had no intention of working for his father's business anyway.

"And besides, Lex," Lionel had said casually, as if he really didn't much care what Lex did either way. "Do you honestly expect that the American public would elect a gay man as President? Oh, I've no doubt that you would be circumspect, but all it would take is one lover with loose lips and your reputation would be ruined. You would never escape the stigma."

Lex wanted the Presidency enough even then.

By the time he was twenty-one, he had almost convinced himself that he had never found men attractive.

The moment he'd opened his eyes on that riverbank in Smallville and seen Clark Kent glowing golden and beautiful above him, Lex's resolve had been tested.

The first year that he had lived in Smallville had been torture for Lex. He'd never met anyone before that he found as fascinating as Clark Kent. He could kid himself at first that it was all gratitude, or the intellectual puzzle of trying to untangle Clark's strangeness, but he wasn't thinking about any of those things as he jacked off at night. He was thinking about the way Clark's jeans pulled snugly over his ass when he bent to take a shot at the pool table, the flex of his muscles as he did his chores on his parents' farm, and the intense way he would look at Lex, like Lex was the most amazing thing he'd ever seen.

It had been almost a relief in some ways when Clark's lies became more frequent and even more insulting. Lex could finally take the boy off the pedestal he'd built for him and regard him with a more critical eye. He could tell himself that Clark was not worth risking his political future for and sometimes believe it.

He sublimated his attraction onto Lana, who was as close to Clark as he could allow himself. He had often wondered if they were both fantasising about the same thing when they fucked.

When Lex and Clark's friendship had eventually disintegrated, Lex had carefully packed away all the good memories he had of Clark. It was the only way he could bring himself to hate the other man as much as he needed to.

Lex sprawled across the couch and drained the last of the scotch in the decanter, carefully unpacking the memories of Clark he had from his first three years in Smallville.

At two a.m., Lex staggered into his home office and opened the safe that had once contained his father's emergency supply of kryptonite. It now held the last remnants of Lex's obsession of Clark Kent: everything that had survived Lex's purge of his original investigations into Clark's powers, plus a few personal mementos that he'd never been able to bring himself to throw away.

At four a.m., after poring over the few photographs he had of Clark and re-reading the sickeningly sentimental journals he'd kept in Smallville, Lex called Clark's cell phone and left a message on his voicemail.

"I'm sorry, Clark. I'm sorry that I pulled the kryptonite out on you and I'm sorry that I said the sex was bad; it really wasn't. If you knew how much I wanted it to happen, you wouldn't have believed me. But then you never knew because I was too scared to tell you. You shouldn't blame yourself for everything that happened between us. I always pushed too hard and I wanted too much. It was as much my fault as yours.

"I've missed you too, Clark, though I've only just realised how much."

He rang Clark's home phone and his phone at the Daily Planet and left similar messages on both answering machines.

An hour later, when he had sobered up a little, Lex sent Mercy to break into the Daily Planet offices to delete the message in case Lois Lane broke the habit of a lifetime and got into work earlier than Clark.

There was no reply from Clark the next day. Lex checked his voicemail compulsively, even throughout his meetings, despite the odd looks that his board of directors kept shooting his way when they thought he wasn't looking.

Three days and several hundred messages later, Lex had to admit defeat. It was time to change tactics; if Lex couldn't reach Clark, he would have to go through Superman.

Lex set up a ray gun on the top of LexCorp Towers and waited. The ray gun didn't actually do anything more than emit a harmless shower of sparks, but it had enough flashing lights and coils of wire adorning it that it looked deadly enough.

Green Lantern flew off with the ray gun and threw it into Hobb's River.

Unperturbed, Lex unearthed an old weather controlling machine that was stuck on `light showers,' donned a white lab coat and threatened to ruin the Metros' game against the Gotham Knights.

Flash snatched the controls right out of Lex's hand and zipped away before Lex had time to react.

Finally, desperately, Lex unleashed a plague of flying robot monkeys on downtown Metropolis. Then he retired to his penthouse to stand on the balcony and watch the skies.

Several hours later, a very disgruntled looking Batman swung up onto the roof of the penthouse carrying a box full of twisted metal and skeins of wire. He threw the box at Lex's feet and said, "That's enough, Luthor. You weren't even trying this time."

"I don't know what you mean," Lex said, affecting the air of innocence he usually aimed for around members of the JLA.

"Robot monkeys, Luthor? It isn't your usual MO. Certainly not robot monkeys whose only purpose seems to be to have been to pull gently on people's hair and then fly away."

"They're only a prototype," Lex said, unwilling for his company's products to be disparaged even if it did get him into trouble. "They must have escaped from the lab."

"Metropolis is Superman's jurisdiction, Luthor, and you're his responsibility while your actions threaten only this city. Usually he accepts that. Recently, however, he seems unwilling to confront you."

"Fascinating, Batman," Lex drawled, feigning boredom. "It may come as a shock to you, but Superman's moods don't interest me very much. In fact, I couldn't be happier that he's steering clear of Metropolis."

"Listen, Luthor," Batman loomed over Lex threateningly, "I don't know what problems the two of you have been having lately and, frankly, I couldn't care less. But when it started affecting the work of the JLA, you made it my business. Sort it out."

Batman scowled at Lex as he rappelled down the side of LexCorp Towers. Lex had to resist the childish urge to disengage the Batarang from the balcony railings and let Bruce splatter on the street below.

Lex retired to his office to regroup and strategise. Apologies hadn't worked, attention seeking hadn't worked, and Lex had really only one option open to him, one that he had initially rejected as too humiliating.

He would just have to decide if Clark was worth it.

Lex didn't come to the decision lightly. He filled four notebooks with detailed notes on possible schemes and had to discard them one after the other.

Delivering a piece of red kryptonite to Clark at the Daily Planet seemed like a good idea until Lex realised that, in his current mood, Clark was just as likely to tear Lex's body into tiny pieces as rip off Lex's clothes and fuck him on his desk again.

He briefly considered kidnapping Martha Kent. There was no way that Clark would trust such a rescue to any other members of the JLA, but Lex still respected Martha enough not to want to put her through that. There was always Lois, but Lex wasn't sure if Clark wouldn't just leave her with him. He really didn't want to get stuck with a pissed off Lois Lane.

When Lex found himself wondering how he could use the synthetic kryptonite that Cadmus Labs was developing to split Clark in two in the hope that one of them would listen to him, he knew that he had to go with his first instinct.

The thought of what he could do with two Clarks did offer a pleasant distraction for a couple of hours, though.

Clark had been brave enough to try to get through to Lex and to keep coming back every time that he had been rebuffed. Lex had always prided himself on the fact that he was braver than Superman.

Lex was standing on the fire escape outside Clark's living room window when Clark got back from work.

He felt like an idiot. Clark's neighbour, a little old lady with a face like a cheerful prune, had already asked if he wanted to come inside and warm up. He had politely declined.

Clark stared at Lex in mingled horror and shock for a moment when he spotted him, then his face set into a frown, and he pulled the curtains closed so violently that they tore part of the way across. Lex could still look into the apartment through the tear in the fabric. Unfortunately, as it only afforded him an unimpeded view of the back of Clark's television set, it availed him nothing.

Lex stayed out on the fire escape until all the lights in Clark's apartment went out.

Lex didn't try to contact Clark at work the next day. Although Lex was chagrined to admit it, he apparently had a healthier fear of Lois than Clark had of Hope and Mercy.

Besides, he still had a company to run, even though it ranked far lower on his list of priorities than it ever had before.

Six o'clock found Lex standing on the fire escape. Clark's expression was a little less horrified than the night before, but he still drew the curtains immediately. Of course, Clark could still be watching Lex with his x-ray vision, which Lex felt was very unfair.

Around eight, the prune-faced old lady shuffled up the fire escape in her slippers and a flowery house coat with a mug of coffee for Lex. She subjected Lex to beady-eyed scrutiny as he drank, all the while regaling him with tales of her numerous grandchildren and troublesome bunions.

"Have I seen you on the television?" she asked when Lex handed her back the mug.

Lex grinned. "You might have."

The old lady smiled triumphantly, tapping Lex on the chest with the empty coffee mug before shuffling off back to her apartment.

Clark didn't even look out of the window once.

On the third night, a group of teenage boys heckled Lex from the street below, demanding to know what he had done to his woman to deserve being shut out for the night.

Lex ordered Hope to follow them conspicuously for a while but not to hurt them in any way. He was sure that Clark wouldn't be too happy if he had their legs broken just for laughing at him.

Clark didn't arrive back home until nearly midnight. He stared at Lex for a full five minutes, hands braced on the windowsill, before retiring to bed. Lex didn't think he had blinked once.

On the fourth night, it was raining, hard and persistent. It soaked through Lex's heavy overcoat, plastering his silk shirt to his skin and forming puddles in his Italian loafers. He was shaking so much that his bones ached with it, but he was determined not to leave.

Clark seemed to have other ideas. The window opened, and Clark pulled Lex into the warmth of his small living room, despite Lex's weak attempts at protest.

"Lex, it's pouring," Clark exclaimed, peeling Lex's sodden overcoat from his shoulders and pushing him gently towards a ratty couch. "You're freezing cold."

Lex sank into the shapeless cushions and kicked off his shoes, curling his feet up under his ass. Clark pulled a patchwork throw around Lex's shoulders, frowning down at him all the while, although the frown did seem to be more one of amused tolerance than anger.

"What were you doing out there anyway?" Clark asked as he bustled around the kitchenette, mixing something in a mug, then blasting it with his heat vision. It sent a chill through Lex that had nothing to do with his soaked clothes.

"I wanted to speak to you," Lex said through chattering teeth. It sounded stupid now that he said it aloud.

"And you couldn't have just phoned?" Clark said with a quick grin, pressing a mug of hot chocolate into Lex's chilled hands as he flopped down onto the couch next to him.

"I did call. I called on numerous occasions, but you never answered." Lex said, sniffing at the steam rising from the hot chocolate. It smelled just like the hot chocolate that Martha Kent used to make, and it made Lex feel unaccountably sad.

"I thought you were just, you know, trying to taunt me," Clark said, plucking at a frayed edge of the throw and seemingly giving the task his full attention.

"What made you think I'd ring hundreds of times just to," Lex couldn't repeat the words, "rub it in?"

"Well, I don't know how I got the idea into my head, Lex. It's not as if you've ever been obsessive or petty or bitchy or -"

"Okay," Lex dropped his head so that his chin rested against his chest. "I'll admit that it's not exactly beyond the bounds of possibility, but didn't you listen to any of my messages?"

"I deleted them as soon as I recognised your number," Clark admitted.

Lex sighed deeply, staring into the murky depths of his mug. "If you had listened to them then you would know how sorry I am. I was scared, Clark, and I wanted to get away from you and think, but you wouldn't leave me alone. I just said the cruellest thing I could think of at the time. I didn't mean it."

Clark snorted, leaning into Lex a little. "Next time, just tell me to give you a little space, and I will. You might be surprised, but I have learned a little tact over the years."

Hope fluttered deep within Lex's belly. "It was the first time that I remembered how much I used to love you. It made me sick to think that I'd caused you so much pain over the years. Believe me, Clark, the only way I could ever try to kill Superman was by ignoring the fact that you are the same person."

Clark was blushing now, his hand stroking the throw near Lex's leg over and over. "You loved me?"

"Did you ever doubt it, Clark?" Lex chuckled softly. "I would have thought it was obvious to anyone who knew us. I would have done anything for you."

"Why did you never say anything? We could have -"

"No, we couldn't, Clark. I wouldn't even admit my feelings to myself back then. And even if I had, I never would have thought that you might have reciprocated them. I seem to recall that you were rather obsessed with a certain girl of our acquaintance at that age."

"Yes, well." Clark smoothed the throw over Lex's feet prissily. "I was very young."

"In fact, I always thought you were interested in Lois."

Clark laughed, head thrown back and teeth flashing in the dim light. "Oh God, Lois would kill herself laughing if she heard that. Where did you get such a crazy idea from?"

Lex tamped down his irritation enough to reply, although his voice did come out sounding slightly sour. "Well, you do have that whole sexually-charged banter thing going on."

"Sometimes people fight because they secretly love each other, but most of the time it's because they bug the ever-living hell out of each other. Lois and I are definitely the latter. Besides," Clark said, looking up at Lex coyly, "I'm gay."

Lex blinked owlishly at Clark. "Gay?"

"I'm surprised that you didn't know that, Lex. I always thought that you had people keeping tabs on me."

"I don't know where you got that idea," Lex said haughtily. Of course he had people keeping tabs on Clark, but apparently they hadn't been doing their jobs properly. Clearly, there should be some sort of inquiry.

Clark looked unconvinced, but he leant in closer, the side of his body flush against Lex's.

"Am I to take it that I'm forgiven?" Lex pushed himself into Clark. Heat still radiated off Clark in waves the way that Lex remembered from Smallville. He felt warm, despite his damp clothes, and comfortable. It was strange to think he could feel this content wrapped in a tatty throw that was probably older than Clark, with wet socks and a dull ache starting in his joints.

Clark's hand crept up Lex's leg and began rubbing up and down Lex's side gently. "Maybe." Clark smirked at Lex. "I certainly can't fault your persistence."

Lex's cock stirred in interest despite his bone-deep weariness. "It seemed to work well enough for you. You wouldn't return my calls, you wouldn't confront me as Superman; I was pretty much out of options." Lex looked sidelong at Clark. "Well, options that wouldn't make you angrier at me than you already were."

"So you took up stalking." Clark laughed, giving Lex's side a quick squeeze. "You were lucky that it was raining tonight. I was planning to let you stand outside for the rest of the week. I was holding out for flowers at least."

"Flowers," Lex echoed dully. Flowers would have been a lot easier.

"Besides, Mrs. Regis was about to call the police. She thought you were trying to peep in on her."

Lex knew that little old lady was too nice to be trusted. "Is she that tiny woman who looks about a hundred and fifty years old?"

"No," Clark rested his head on Lex's shoulder, "that's Mrs. Graboski. Mrs. Regis is the, um, larger lady who lives down the hall."

Lex vaguely remembered an enormous woman with a bad dye job who had walked past the fire escape with suspicious regularity over the past few days. He shuddered.

"You should be thankful to Mrs. Graboski." Clark said. "She grabbed me by the mail-boxes yesterday and told me that I should `forgive the young man from Days of Our Lives' because `anyone who wasn't really very sorry would have given up after the first night.'"

Lex snorted. "So you made the decision to forgive me based on the advice of an old woman who was under the mistaken impression that I was a soap star."

"No," Clark smiled slyly up at Lex, "I decided that when I heard the first message that you left. I just wanted to make sure that you really meant it before I committed to anything."

If Clark had been anyone else, Lex's revenge would have flattened Metropolis. As it was, Lex just took a deep breath and let his anger slide. He doubted that he would be lucky enough to be forgiven a second time.

They lapsed into a silence for a time, Clark's fingers drawing geometric shapes that might have been Kryptonian symbols on the back of Lex's hand. Lex felt drowsy, his eyelids drooping, despite the oddness of the situation. If someone had told him a month ago that he would be snuggling on a couch with Superman, arousal curling warmly deep in his stomach, he would have had them thrown into Belle Reve. Closely followed by himself.

"Where do we go from here, then?" Lex finally roused himself enough to ask, smoothing a lock of Clark's unruly hair behind his ear.

Clark raised one eyebrow and grinned wickedly.

Where they were going to go, apparently, was Clark's bedroom. Lex found himself naked on Clark's bed before he even had to chance to notice that he was moving.

Clark stood at the end of the bed for a moment, staring down at Lex with rapt attention. Lex hadn't been ashamed of being naked in front of another person for years, yet he still found himself looking around the room in an effort to avoid Clark's eyes.

Photographs of Clark's friends covered the walls, which were the same shade of yellow as the Kent farmhouse in Smallville. From his cursory glance, Lex couldn't see a picture of himself, but he was hardly surprised. There was a photograph of Martha and Jonathan Kent in a beautifully carved frame on Clark's bedside table. Lex reached over and flipped it so that it faced the wall.

"Back in Smallville I used to imagine what you'd look like naked and laid out on my bed," Clark breathed.

Lex smirked. "And how does the reality measure up."

Clark laughed, and Lex could feel the mattress dip as he knelt on the end of the bed, one knee on either side of Lex's feet.

"Better," Clark's big hands slid up Lex's legs to rest on his thighs where they squeezed gently. "You're beautiful, Lex."

Lex breathed deeply for a moment, centring himself, then looked down at Clark. Clark had lost his shirt somehow along their way, and his skin was glowing golden under the pale lamplight in the bedroom. He was broader than he had been back in Smallville, though strangely not as bulky as the Superman costume made him appear in recent years. His eyes, however, were the same as any one of Lex's own fantasies over the years, pupils wide and hazy with lust. He was beautiful too, but then Lex had always known that, he didn't need Clark in his bed to prove it.

Clark grinned, a slow, sharp smile that suggested that Lex had better brace himself. Lex's heart sped up slightly, suddenly nervous. Sex was something that he had always been able to use, and it had never scared him before. It suddenly occurred to him that this wasn't only a man, it wasn't only Clark; it was Superman. He was naked and defenceless and Clark could rip him apart with his bare hands if he wanted to.

But then Clark's smile softened, and his thumbs started rubbing smooth circles over Lex's hip bones until Lex relaxed into the touch.

"Calm down, Lex," Clark said in between wet, open mouthed kisses to the inside of Lex's thighs. "I understand that you're nervous, but we can take this slowly."

"I am not nervous." Lex reached down to tug on Clark's hair insistently, coaxing his kisses further up Lex's body. "Stop being a tease."

Clark bit Lex's thigh none too gently then. Before Lex had chance to protest at the indignity, Clark's mouth closed around his cock, sucking lightly. Lex's head fell back against the pillow, thrusting deeply with a groan.

Clark chuckled, because he was obviously a bigger bastard than Lex had ever realised, but Lex couldn't find it in himself to care. Clark's mouth and tongue were more talented than Lex had had chance to appreciate that time in his office. He'd been too busy having a Superman-induced breakdown to care much. Lex was harder than he'd ever thought possible; his entire body felt electrified wherever Clark touched it.

Lex pushed his heels into the mattress, arching up into the furnace of Clark's mouth again and again. Clark groaned, his hands cupping Lex's balls and squeezing gently for an instant before slipping down to rub at the sensitive skin behind them.

One of Clark's fingers circled Lex's hole with delicious lassitude, pushing inside slightly before his hand slipped away. Lex moaned and bucked his hips in protest at the lack of contact.

Clark pulled his mouth off Lex's cock and growled, "I want to fuck you."

Clark's voice sounded unlike any other voice that Lex had ever heard him use before, low and gravely gravelly with lust. Lex nodded, not trusting himself to speak because he was sure that he would start begging.

"It might hurt," Clark said as he moved up Lex's body to straddle his hips, "but I promise you that you'll enjoy it."

Now that he could see how Clark's cock was straining against the front of his pants Lex couldn't help but reach out and hesitantly rub his knuckles slowly along its length. Clark made a deep guttural noise at the back of his throat, before batting Lex's hand away and unzipping his pants with such force that the material ripped and fell away.

Clark's cock was as beautiful as the rest of him, long and thick and hard for Lex. Lex didn't even have time to worry that he had never done this before, never touched another man this way. His brain had ceded control, and his hands moved of their own accord, one moulding itself to the curve of Clark's ass, the other curling around Clark's cock.

They both groaned in unison this time.

Lex was lost to the feeling of Clark's soft skin beneath his hands and the rush of blood underneath. He moved his hand experimentally in the short, brisk strokes that he liked himself. Clark rocked his hips, his head falling back to expose the long column of his neck.

"Don't worry about me, Clark." Lex rubbed his thumb across the head of Clark's cock, sticky with pre-come, in time with his thrusts. "I've been fucked before. I've been with some adventurous women."

Clark's hips stilled and he glared down at Lex. "Desiree?"

Lex hummed, squeezing Clark's ass cheek to persuade him to start moving again. Of course Clark would think it was Desiree. It was actually Lana, but he didn't think that Clark actually wanted to know that.

"I'm going to make you forget every single woman you've ever been with." Clark said, leaning over Lex and placing a hand to either side of Lex's head. A sliver of his old malice almost made Lex tell Clark that he had a lot of work to do to accomplish that feat, but the sight of Clark's glowing eyes so near to his own made the words die in his throat.

Clark's tongue was in Lex's mouth before Lex could speak, even if he'd wanted to, his body pressing down so hard that Lex was forced, unwillingly, to let go of Clark's cock. Lex's hands scrabbled at Clark's sweat-slicked back, pulling him closer. Their cocks pressed together, and Lex arched his back again, rubbing himself against Clark, desperate for friction.

Clark broke the kiss, biting at Lex's lips, his earlobe, the curve of his jaw. Lex could hardly breathe, Clark's body a huge but welcome weight bearing him down onto the bed. He could feel his balls tightening as his cock slid again and again against Clark's. He grabbed hold of Clark's ass, letting the quick ragged snap of his hips send him over the edge to orgasm.

Clark cried out once and then convulsed, coming in white hot spurts over Lex's sensitised skin.

They lay together for a while, Lex measuring his breaths against Clark's until they slowed. Clark kissed Lex's neck gently and whispered "I never stopped loving you either" into Lex's skin.

Lex frowned. That wasn't what he had said earlier at all.

Eventually, Clark eased himself from Lex's arms and collapsed on his side, one arm trailing across Lex's stomach. Clark's smile was somewhat dazed and completely smug.

Lex allowed Clark to stroke his sticky skin for a moment as he enjoyed the fading glow of his orgasm. It was only for a moment, however, because there were things that he needed to say.

"If we're going to see each other, there are a few ground rules that I feel need to be set in place."

The corner of Clark's mouth curled upwards a little. "And they are?"

Lex put one arm beneath his head, staring up at the ceiling and reviewing his list. His other hand strayed to Clark's hair unbidden and started raking through his damp curls. "One, we've obviously got a lot of issues from our past to work through. I suggest that we set aside some time to discuss them in a calm and adult manner. I'll leave my ring locked up and you'll," Lex flailed slightly, "sit on your hands and keep your eyes closed or something. We'll work on that."

Clark grunted in something that might have been agreement. Emboldened, Lex continued: "Two, obviously there is a conflict of interest that arises from our disparate lines of work. I'm willing to reconsider the viability of several of LexCorp's more esoteric areas of research if you promise to trust me enough to give me the time to do so. I can't simply shut down every project that you disagree with because, and it pains me to say this, Clark, you simply don't comprehend how a company like mine functions. I'm willing to take on board your suggestions when I'm making my choices, if you present them to me in a reasoned manner that doesn't involve simply smashing valuable equipment."

Clark grunted again, his fingers making an exploratory foray towards Lex's now flaccid cock. Lex closed his eyes and drew upon his considerable reserves of will to make his final point. "Thirdly, and most importantly, I'm not going to destroy my reserves of green kryptonite. I've seen how dangerous some of the variants of kryptonite make you, and you need someone with the power and determination to stop you if you ever become a threat to this planet. I know Bruce has kryptonite, but I have more experience fighting you, and I've got a better chance of stopping you if the need ever arises."

"You've obviously been thinking about this a lot." Clark sounded amused.

"There's little else to do when you're standing out on a fire escape night after night, believe me."

"And what makes you think we even need these rules? This could just be a one night stand, or we could get sick of each other after a week."

Lex stared at Clark in dismay. He'd risked everything, and Clark thought that this might be some casual fling? He'd actually been willing to give up the presidency for Clark, and Clark was... grinning. He grinned and kissed Lex until they were both panting and breathless.

"God, Lex. You actually almost believed that, didn't you?" Clark's big hands enveloped the dome of Lex's head, thumbs smoothing over his eyebrows. "I've just told you that I've been in love with you for, God, most of my life and you thought this was just going to be about finally getting to have sex with you? Nothing about you and me could ever be casual, you know that. We're always going to be epic."

"I always told people that they couldn't trust Superman, but did they believe me?" Lex scowled at Clark in mock ferocity, feeling the hurt and fear slip away with each kiss that Clark pressed to his skin.

He could feel the truth in Clark's words and in his touch. This could work. He could be happy. No matter how much they'd hurt each other in recent years, Clark had always been the only person who could give him that.

"Besides," Clark said, nipping at Lex's collarbone playfully, "you promised that I could fuck you. In light of our new agreement, you wouldn't want to start breaking your promises already, would you?"

Lex smiled as he pulled Clark up for another kiss, feeling lighter than he had in years, new vistas of choice and opportunities opening out before him. "I think you'll find that I can be very trustworthy, Clark. Given the right encouragement."