Author's note: Thanks to everyone who read this story over on LJ and gave me feedback and encouragement on it. You guys are the best! Special thanks to Corinna for thinking of the title, Meret for making me a perfectly scrumptious cover for it, and XniteLite for letting me borrow the title from her Fortune magazine Lex icon.

The strobe lights flashed in an epilepsy-inducing burst on the dance floor. Bodies writhed. The scent of sweat rose in the air, the smell of boys and girls and the heat of promised sex. Lex leaned against the wall, watching, a little bemused by the desperate frenzy to connect, touch, taste, take. He himself was a connoisseur, patient, choosy. Tonight, he had come to the club for a specific purpose, a particular someone, and he had the discipline to wait.

The object of his interest was shirtless and swaying, dancing by himself, black leather pants riding suggestively low on his hips, a clear invitation. Or perhaps, more accurately, advertising, since this ride wasn't free.

The buzz around the men's room was that this new kid was something special, no gag reflex and apparently could do tricks with his tongue that weren't completely human. He was certainly the prettiest thing Lex had seen in a long time, tall and dark-haired with bright eyes and a pouty mouth, just the way he liked them. Lex knew his way around hookers and had no illusions about them. But there was something about this boy that made him think this might be more than a quick, dirty fuck. He couldn't remember the last time he'd thought that about anyone.

He snapped his fingers. "Tyson."

One of his vast array of hangers-on instantly materialized. "Yeah, Lex? You need something?"

Lex handed him a hundred dollar bill. Cocksucking talent like this pretty kid's fetched a handsome price. "Go get yourself a blowjob from the new boy," he said. "Make sure it's out in the alley."

Tyson's eyes got as big as a kid's on Christmas. "Wow. Thanks!" He was practically drooling, and for a moment, Lex thought about grabbing his money back. The idea of his beautiful boy with a mouthful of this imbecile's cock didn't sit well with him. But Lex was conducting research, and sacrifices had to be made sometimes in the pursuit of knowledge.

"Go on," he told Tyson, impatiently.

Tyson sidled over to the kid and whispered in his ear, nodding in the direction of the door. Lex slipped into the alley ahead of them and blended into the shadows. A moment later, Tyson came out, the kid by his side.

The boy didn't waste any time. He pushed Tyson back against the rough brick of the wall, opened his pants and dropped to his knees.

"Close your eyes," he said.

Tyson laughed. "Whatever you say."

The kid went down on him, and then the only sounds were soft little slurps and Tyson's increasingly frantic moans. Lex was rock hard in no time. He would have liked to slip his hand inside his pants, jerk himself off, pretend it was the boy touching him. But this was research, and he had to pay attention. Had to know if this boy was as special as he suspected.

The kid held Tyson's hips firmly in place, his head bobbing faster and faster until it was practically a blur, and Tyson was screaming the way a man only did when someone was trying to kill him or giving him the blowjob of a lifetime.

Tyson didn't so much come as explode, voice hoarse as he cried out, eyes squeezed tightly shut, fists clenched at his sides. The boy swallowed and swallowed, and when Tyson was finally finished, gently tucked him back into his pants.

"There you go," he said.

"Uhhhmmm," Tyson said incoherently, staggering back into the club, shaky-legged.

Lex licked his lips in anticipation. He'd been right. This kid had a lot more to offer than just his ass. Although there was that, too.

The boy didn't move, just stayed on his knees on the ground. "Do you want your turn now?"

Lex realized, with a start, that he was talking to him. He stepped out of the shadows and approached him. "That was quite a show." He put his hand lightly on the boy's arm and urged him to his feet. He wanted that mouth, but not furtively in a dirty alley where anyone could see.

"I aim to please." The boy tried to sound sophisticated. But the light from the street lamp fell across his face, and Lex could see the lurking innocence there.

"You can do better than this."

The boy smiled. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"With you?"

Lex shrugged. "With me. Without me. Lots of ways you can go."

The boy moved closer. "I'd like to try with you, if it's up to me." He rubbed against Lex's thigh.

God. The kid was hard.

It's a game, Lex reminded himself. Hookers always do this. Always play you.

But he was already lost. His fingers dug in at the kid's waist, pulling him hard against his body. His mouth moved over the boy's.

The kid tried to turn his head. "I haven't had a chance to--"

Lex didn't care. It might be Tyson's taste in the kid's mouth, but Lex could easily imagine that it was his own. He kissed greedily, and the boy relaxed against him. His tongue came out to play, and Lex didn't care what it cost, even if it was every last thing he owned, this boy was going to be his.

"What's your name?" he asked breathlessly, between kisses.

There was a pause. "People here call me Jerry."

"Is that what you want me to call you?" He mouthed the line of the boy's jaw and could feel him tremble.

"Clark," the kid said softly. "That's my real name."

"I'm Lex," he said. "And I'm going to take you home now, Clark. We can talk over financial arrangements in the car, if that's acceptable to you."

The boy's hand drifted down to Lex's ass and rested there as if Lex were the one for sale. "I think that'll be just fine." He smiled, more sweetly than any hooker ever had in the entire history of prostitution, Lex felt certain.

Clark stretched out his long legs in the passenger seat of the Ferrari, and it took all of Lex's vaunted discipline to keep his attention on the road. The kid had acquired a shirt somewhere between the alley and the parking lot, a dark blue silk number, but he'd left it unbuttoned, his chest temptingly displayed. Ferraris were intimate cars, and Lex was profoundly aware of his presence, his scent, his heat. It took the thought of crashing and burning and never getting to touch all that golden skin to watch the road and not the boy sitting next to him.

The kid, however, seemed far less concerned about safety. He put his hand on Lex's thigh and started to stroke and knead.

"We were going to talk money first," Lex blurted out, his voice cracking a little, much to his embarrassment. He'd been hard since he'd watched him dancing, and every touch of that large, strong hand on his leg went straight to his cock, arousing and distracting him.

"Mmm," the boy said, noncommittally. He expanded his explorations, tracing the outline of Lex's eager erection with his finger.

"Clark!" Lex said sharply. "Not while I'm driving."

"No?" his expression was wide-eyed and innocent, even as he cupped Lex's crotch, fondling him through his pants.

Lex was beginning to suspect Clark's charming naivete might well be the biggest hustle going. But he couldn't quite bring himself to care, not when everything the boy did made him feel like he was about to unravel.

The boy leaned in, kissed behind his ear. "I don't think you really want me to stop."

"Wouldn't it be a good idea to reach a financial agreement before--"

Making me come in my pants was what sprang to mind, but he chose not to say it.

The kid mouthed his ear lobe. "I know you're good for it."

It took every ounce of control Lex had not to tremble at the sensation of warm breath against his skin. "A thousand a week." The boy made a soft noise as he kissed Lex's neck that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. "A thousand dollars a week to live in a luxury penthouse and wear the finest clothes and dine out at the best restaurants is not really such a bad deal--"

The kid licked along his jaw line, and Lex sucked in his breath. "Okay," he said, shakily. "Two thousand." Keeping the car off the sidewalk was becoming more of a challenge.

"Mmmm," the boy murmured, burying his face in the curve of Lex's neck, pressing the heel of his palm against Lex's crotch.

"Three thousand." It came out a high-pitched squeak.

Thank God his apartment building was finally in sight. If this trip wasn't over soon, either they were going to end up wrapped around a telephone pole, or he was going to offer this kid his whole damned stock portfolio just to keep that talented hand on his dick.

He pulled into the circular drive and parked in front of the door. "Well?" he asked.

Clark took his face in his hands and kissed him deeply. "Three thousand a week sounds fine, Lex." He smiled sweetly and bounded out of the car like an overgrown puppy.

Lex sighed, got out, and handed the keys to the valet. He had the definite feeling he'd just been outmaneuvered by a teenager. The boy flashed him another brilliant smile before heading inside through the sliding glass doors. Lex let him go ahead, enjoying the fine view of his shapely ass in his low-slung leather pants.

Suddenly, three thousand dollars a week seemed like the deal of the century.

On the way up to the penthouse, Lex gave himself a mental talking-to. He was an experienced veteran of Metropolis' nightlife, a successful businessman and a Luthor, for God's sake. There was no excuse for allowing himself to be played by a street hustler. Still, it wasn't too late to take back control of the situation. He was the one who'd be writing out those three thousand dollar checks, so he was the one calling the shots. It was time to make that clear to the boy.

His plan to demonstrate who was boss hit a little snag, though, when he closed the door to the apartment, and the kid set on him like some ravenous wild thing, pushing him back against the wall, pressing their bodies together, rubbing his hard-on against Lex's thigh.

"Shit!" Lex swore softly.

"Mmmm." The boy licked a hot swipe up the side of Lex's neck, making Lex even harder than he had been before, something he would not have thought possible.

The boy slowly dropped to his knees, caressing Lex with his body as he went. He pressed his nose against the bulge in Lex's pants, breathing him in. "I could smell you in the car." He mouthed Lex's erection through the fabric. "Mmm. So good. So hot."

Lex sucked in his breath. "God."

The boy smiled, lowered his zipper, took out his cock, and then Lex lost the ability to speak altogether. Because research was one thing, but experience was something else entirely. Watching the kid suck Tyson in no way prepared him for the reality of having that pretty, talented mouth wrapped around his own dick. Wet heat, soft lips, wicked tongue, and the kid was making these little yummy noises like going down on Lex was better than ice cream. Lex closed his eyes and made some noises of his own, so pitifully needy he was sure he'd be embarrassed about it later. Not once, not even twice, but three times, he banged his head against the wall, hard enough to worry about leaving marks on the plaster.

The kid wiggled one of his fingers into his mouth alongside Lex's cock, and the hot ache low in Lex's belly became a serious inferno. The kid pulled his finger out with a soft pop, lusciously obscene, reached behind Lex's balls to stroke the sensitive skin, and that was it, all she wrote. Lex came the way people had seizures, suddenly, violently, the world going dark, his knees threatening to give out. Clark held him up and swallowed him down and gently licked him clean when he finally stopped spewing like a geyser.

Lex gasped, trying to catch his breath, but the kid wasn't the patient sort. He scrambled to his feet, covered Lex's body with his own and kissed him in big, greedy gulps. Lex could taste himself in the kid's mouth, so much better than tasting some other man there, and he threaded his fingers through the boy's hair, holding him still, kissing back frantically, desperate for more.

Finally, the boy pulled away, color high in his cheeks, big green eyes sparkling. "Shouldn't we move this into the bedroom?" He took a step back, smiling seductively, letting his shirt flutter to the floor.

Then he was just gone, so fast Lex didn't even see him go. He followed a trail of discarded clothing down the hall, the leather pants, one shoe and then the other, but no underwear, because of course Clark hadn't been wearing any. In the doorway to his bedroom, Lex came to a sudden, surprised stop. The boy lay sprawled on the bed, all bare skin and lean muscles and huge, hard, gorgeous cock.

He smiled. "Why don't you take off your clothes and join me?"

Lex's dick made a valiant effort to get hard again, even though it was really too soon. He took a deep breath and tried to rein in his lust. He'd completely lost sight of his game plan, and the longer he let this go on the harder it was going to be to take back the upper hand.

"Aren't you forgetting who's paying who here?"

The boy shifted on the bed, showing off his body, blinking innocently. "Don't you want to get naked with me?"

Lex could feel the blood pounding in his temples. His throat was dry, and really, there wasn't anything to say to that except an emphatic hell, yes!

The boy slid gracefully off the bed. "Or maybe you want me to do it for you?" He stalked over to Lex, who was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe.

He blinked, and Clark was suddenly on him, kissing, touching. Nimble fingers undid his buttons, pushed down his pants, and Lex had the fleeting thought, possibly for the first time in his life, that being in control might be just a little bit overrated.

"God you're beautiful." It could have just been hustler talk, but Clark's eyes were serious, his gaze intent as he stared at Lex's bare chest, stroked his hand down Lex's side. "Bare everywhere. I always wondered."

"Childhood accident."

Clark's hand stilled. "I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago." Lex tangled his fingers in the boy's hair and pulled him in for a hard, demanding kiss. "Now go get on the bed." It came out as an order. Clearly he was starting to feel like himself again.

Clark moaned softly, licked Lex's bottom lip, nipped at it playfully. "Whatever you say."

He sauntered back to the bed and lay down, lounging against the pillows, watching, waiting. Lex shrugged out of his shirt, stepped out of his pants and kicked them away. His cock was hard again, straining, and he stood there a minute, letting the kid look at him. The boy's eyes turned a darker shade of green, he seemed to breathe faster, and his fingers clenched in the bedspread. Either he was more practiced in the fine art of pleasing a customer than Lex would have expected, or else he just really, really liked sex.

Either way, he was all Lex's, and that thought made his cock jerk in anticipation.

He stretched out on the bed beside the boy, who started to reach for him. But Lex pushed him back down. "Just stay there."

Clark's eyes were bright, and they never left Lex's face. He lay back against the pillows, licking his lips, arms flung wide, legs spread, offering himself up, whatever Lex wanted to do. So much warm skin, so much beautiful boy to explore, and Lex had a keen appreciation for every single inch. The hollow of his hipbones. Sweet texture of his nipples. Bend of his elbows. Dip of his belly. Lex mapped Clark's body with light brushes of his fingers, the soft play of his lips, darting tease of his tongue.

Clark trembled, opened his legs wider and begged, "Please!"

Such a pretty sound, and Lex kissed his way up one thigh, the boy's eager cock brushing his cheek, leaving a slick trail.

"Please, please," the boy pleaded breathlessly.

Lex wrapped his fingers around the kid's cock. It felt good in his hand, the right size, right heft. He circled his thumb over the head, and the boy sucked in his breath, his belly trembling. He bent his head, licked lightly along the shaft, teasing, before finally taking it in his mouth.

Clark moaned, his eyes wide and startled. As impossible as it seemed, apparently no one had ever sucked this kid's beautiful cock before. If Lex had needed any extra inspiration to make the boy's eyes roll back in his head, this surely was it. He tongued along the underside, teased the slit and then finally took the boy's cock deep into his throat, all the while tracing patterns along the insides of his thighs.

Little sounds streamed out of Clark--gasps and grunts and whimpers--and each one sizzled through Lex's body, blazing a path straight to his cock. He jerked himself off with a sharp snap of the wrist. He could feel Clark getting close, the chorus of appreciative noises getting louder and more frantic.

Clark flailed, tried to pull away. "I have to-- I'm going to--"

Lex held his hips down, sucked him harder, stroked himself more urgently. He was getting close, too. The boy's feet kicked out, and he screamed and came in Lex's mouth, at almost the same time Lex spurted in his own hand.

Lex licked his lips and sat back on his heels to enjoy the view. Sweat beaded on Clark's forehead. His cheeks were flushed. He panted and looked slightly dazed. Lex smiled, pleased with his efforts. He scooted up to lie next to Clark, leaned over and kissed him lazily. He kept his eyes open, and the expression on the boy's face was sheer amazement at tasting himself in someone else's mouth. Lex enjoyed it probably more than he should have, but to be able to give Clark his first time at anything was more than he could have expected.

He settled down and pulled Clark into his arms. This felt right too, Clark's head on his chest, their bodies a perfect fit.

"Um. Are you sure this is okay? I could--" Clark trailed off.

Lex tightened his arms around his shoulders, stroked his hair. "Stay."

He felt Clark's smile against his chest and then the soft brush of his lips. Lex sighed softly and a warm sense of contentment spread through him. It was an illusion, of course. Clark was his employee, not his lover, and every murmured sweet nothing was simply part of his job description. Still, it felt good to have the boy in his arms, to stroke his back, hold him close and pretend this was something real.

When Lex woke the next morning, his first thought was that someone was moaning. Once a few more sleepy synapses started to fire, he realized it was him. This gave his consciousness a good, hard jolt, and other details started to register. Hands on his hips. Silky hair tickling his thighs. The soft sounds of slurping filling the quiet room. The fact that his entire groin was on fire, in the best possible way.

He opened his eyes, and, yes, this really was how he wanted to start the day, every day, for the rest of his life. Clark knelt between his legs, his mouth stretched around Lex's cock, one hand gently cradling his balls, watching Lex intently, his eyes bright with lust, or possibly amusement. Lex could just imagine how startled he must look. Even if you were a billionaire playboy, it wasn't every day you woke up with your cock in someone's tight, hot throat.

Clark's eyes locked onto Lex's. He reached very slowly, very deliberately behind Lex's balls, fingers stroking softly, moving back to Lex's hole, his thumb circling, not pressing in, just rubbing and teasing. Lex sucked in his breath and bit his lip and promptly came.

Clark caressed Lex's hips while he swallowed and afterwards pressed a gentle kiss to his spent cock. Then he stretched out over Lex and kissed him.

Lex threaded his fingers through Clark's hair. "You're very bold, you know."

Clark smiled confidently. "You like me that way." He kissed Lex again.

"Mmm. Maybe." He studied Clark. "I've never met a paid escort quite as eager as you, that's for certain."

Clark's eyes sparked defiantly, and he pulled away. "I like sex. I like having sex with guys. Is there something wrong with that?"

"No. Of course not." But Clark didn't appear mollified. "Hey." He pulled Clark back down for another kiss. "I like sex with guys too, as you may have noticed."

Clark's face softened. "You like sex with me, you mean." He grinned.

"Mmm." Lex kept his tone non-committal. Admitting just how much he liked it wasn't how you played this game.

"Can I ask you a question?" Clark's eyes were wide with curiosity.

Lex shrugged. "Sure. But it'll cost you."

Clark raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"How much?"

"An answer to something I want to know in exchange for each question you ask me. Reasonable, don't you think?"

Clark smiled. "A downright bargain." He shifted onto his side. "So what I want to know is...why do you pay?"

"It's hardly a good business practice to default on your debts."

"You know what I mean." He ran his hand down Lex's side, over his hip, along his thigh. "You're gorgeous. You could have anybody. But you still--"

"Opt for professionals?"

Clark nodded. "I noticed you around the club, you know. A long time before you noticed me. And I always wondered about that."

Clark was wrong, of course. Lex had noticed him the moment he first stepped foot in the place, and he'd been fascinated ever since.

"I've had some-- Let's call them unfortunate entanglements. I find an arrangement like ours less costly in the long run."

Clark frowned. "How unfortunate?"

"Not so fast. I get to ask you something first."

"That's just a follow up," Clark insisted.

"I don't remember that being part of our agreement."

Clark sighed. "Fine. Go ahead. Ask me."

Lex studied him. "Exactly how much sexual experience have you had?"

Clark went still. "You're not happy with--"

"I didn't say that."

"If you're trying to get the price down, we already agreed--"

"This isn't a trap, Clark. It's just a question. Last night, I got the distinct impression that you'd never had your cock sucked before, and that seemed kind of curious to me for someone in your line of work."

"The guys who pay like my mouth," Clark said, clearly embarrassed by the topic. "Nobody ever wanted to do it to me."

"But that would imply--" His thoughts raced. "You never had sex before you started working?"

Clark lowered his eyes, shook his head.

"Wasn't that kind of-- I mean, didn't you--" Lex didn't even know quite what he meant to say. The thought of Clark having his first time with some asshole customer who saw him as nothing more than a convenient mouth to fuck was just profoundly wrong.

"I was kind of a different person then," Clark said softly. "When I first started. Things mattered less."

That sounded distinctly like drugs, but Clark didn't seem the type.

"Did you let guys fuck you?" Lex asked. "If nothing mattered."

"No. I didn't want--" He blushed, looking like the kid he was.

"Why not? If you were so different then. I'm sure you could have made good money at it."

The boy turned redder. "I just-- didn't want my first time for that to be in an alley."

Lex nodded. That made two of them.

Clark kissed Lex's neck. "But in your bed-- that's a whole other story." He reached for Lex's cock, but Lex batted his hand away. "What?" Clark asked sulkily.

"Not while we're talking."

Clark let out his breath impatiently and flopped onto his back. "Not while you're driving. Not while we're talking. Did anyone ever tell you that you have a lot of stupid rules?"

Lex refused to be baited. "I just want to understand how you ended up in Metropolis."

Clark laughed unpleasantly. "I had some problems. Made some stupid mistakes. I'm sure you've heard it all before."

Lex had expected a story about parents who weren't overjoyed to learn they had a gay son, but this sounded like something else entirely. "Maybe it's not as bad as you think. Maybe--"

"No," Clark said sharply. "I answered your question. It's my turn now."

Lex sighed. "Fine."

Clark turned onto his side, interested again. "What you were saying before. How unfortunate was it?"

Lex took a deep breath. "Pretty fucked up, I'm afraid. A couple of wives who tried to kill me. More than one boyfriend who stole from me. I'd just had enough."

Clark stared. "You were married to someone who tried to kill you?"

He took Clark's hand and guided it to the small puckered scar on his side. "This was from the first wife."

"She shot you?" Clark sounded horrified.

"Had one of her students do it. She was a high school teacher. Fortunately for me, the kid was scared shitless and just nicked me."

"God."

"And then, the most recent one--" He moved Clark's hand down to the long, gnarled scar running along his thigh. "She was even more of a planner. Arranged a plane crash over the ocean on our honeymoon. I got this from debris in the water while I was waiting to be rescued."

"Jesus, Lex."

"That's why I prefer a more business-like arrangement. I know what to expect."

Clark kissed him. "I'm not like them," he whispered against Lex's lips. "I promise."

Lex kissed him back, fingers clenching in his hair. It was surprisingly easy to believe him.

He pushed a curl back behind Clark's ear and studied his face. If he was lucky, he might be able to sneak in one more question.

"They must miss you." He took a gamble.

Clark looked confused. "Who?"

"Whoever you left behind."

"There wasn't--"

"Don't. If you're not going to answer, okay. But don't lie to me."

Clark pulled out of his arms, seemed to curl in on himself. "I really fucked things up," he said softly. "And hurt people. That's why I had to leave. So, no, I don't think they miss me too much."

Lex frowned. He couldn't imagine Clark intentionally harming anyone. "But if it was some kind of accident--"

Clark sat up abruptly. "Look, I'll do anything you want in bed. But I'm not going to answer a bunch of questions about my life so you can feel sorry for the poor, screwed up hooker. Okay? And if that's not good enough for you, then I can leave right now."

Lex moved quickly and grabbed his arm. "Or you could stay and go take a shower, and then we could spend the day together." He kissed Clark's neck and felt him start to relax.

"What exactly did you have in mind?" Clark asked, still somewhat on guard.

"Oh, lots of things." He kissed along Clark's jaw. "Shopping. Going out to lunch. Coming home." Taking your cherry. He smiled.

After all, it wasn't only information he wanted from Clark.

Clark draped his arms around Lex's neck and leaned in to his kisses. "That sounds good. But--" His face went serious. "No more questions. I mean it."

He gave Clark his most winning smile. "No problem."

"Okay then." Clark scooted off the bed and headed toward the bathroom. "Are you coming?"

"I'll be right there."

Clark disappeared through the door. Lex got up and took out a notebook from his bedside drawer. He made a few notations. He'd have his people do some checking in the towns surrounding Metropolis, look for families with a missing teenage son who'd also suffered some other loss, possibly involving an accident.

He put the notebook away. Clark intrigued him, but as eager as he was to know everything about him, delving into his past would have to wait. He knew he was serious about not answering any more questions right now. And Lex had more important things to focus on, anyway. There was a stunningly beautiful boy waiting in his shower. No doubt he could use some help washing his back.

It was a beautiful afternoon. The heavy, late-summer sun played over the glasses and silverware at the outdoor cafe, making everything sparkle. Lex sat sprawled in his chair, enjoying the sight of Clark, who was wolfing down a cheeseburger and fries with great gusto. They'd spent the last few hours making the rounds of Lex's favorite shops, picking out Clark's new wardrobe, including the striking blue shirt and black slacks he was wearing now.

The new clothes were finely cut, perfectly fitted, made from the most luxuriously touchable fabrics, and in them, Clark was beyond stunning. Lex had noticed heads turning as they'd walked down the street. He'd even heard two women whispering together, trying to guess which fashion ads they'd seen Clark in. It had given Lex a smug sense of satisfaction, knowing that they could look but not touch, that this beautiful boy was all his.

Of course, Lex had taken lovers shopping before. He'd even outfitted a few other prostitutes in his day. But this had been different. Better. There was nothing greedy or grasping about Clark. He was as happy with an Old Navy T-shirt as he was with a Hugo Boss leather jacket. There was something honest and refreshing about his delight, like a little kid at Christmas, that made Lex want to take him to store after store, ply him with every imaginable luxury, just to watch his face light up.

Lex liked seeing him happy. He liked it a lot.

Clark caught his eye and smiled. He put down his burger and leaned in. "Is it okay if I kiss you in public?"

Lex traced his finger over his impossibly lush mouth. "Please. I live to make other people jealous."

Clark laughed and brushed his lips against Lex's, lightly at first, licking teasingly before advancing on Lex's mouth in earnest.

"Mmm," Lex murmured, savoring the taste of him.

Clark pulled back, let his hand wander over Lex's thigh. "So what do you want to do next?" he asked.

"Did you have something in mind?"

"Yeah, actually." Clark rubbed his hand in circles, drifting slowly up Lex's leg toward his cock. "I was thinking maybe we could go home." His eyes were heated, full of promises.

"I'll get the check."

Clark smiled. "Great idea."

Back at the penthouse, they hauled Clark's many packages upstairs and put them down in a pile in the living room. Clark flopped onto the sofa, looking adorably ruffled after his shopping spree.

Lex went to the bar and poured himself a Scotch. "So let's see everything on you." He settled in a comfortable chair and smiled expectantly.

"But you've seen it already."

"Not all put together. And in bad dressing room lighting. Go on."

Clark raised an eyebrow. "Here?"

"Why not?" Lex smiled. "The servants have gone for the day."

Clark grinned and unbuttoned his shirt. "Why not then?"

Lex took a sip of his drink and savored his sense of anticipation. Trying on clothes in the stores had been practical, business-like, yes or no, what color, how many. Dressing rooms were always too small and too hot and far too public to linger and enjoy. But here at home, they had all the space they needed, perfect lighting, complete privacy and a soft bed waiting for them when the show was over.

Clark took off his shirt and flung it carelessly over the back of the sofa. He shucked his pants unselfconsciously, stripping down to the skimpy black bikini briefs Lex had picked out for him personally. Of course, he'd seen Clark naked, touched him everywhere. But there was an undeniably erotic thrill in watching Clark stand there in nothing but his underwear, all that rippling strength on display, the fine line of hair on his belly disappearing into the waistband of his briefs, like a suggestive arrow pointing the way to the promised land, the snug fabric emphasizing Clark's considerable assets rather than hiding them.

Lex licked his lips. He was already hard. "The red shirt. And the jeans." It sounded like an order.

And Clark took it that way. He nodded, kept his eyes lowered, almost submissively, although his nature was anything but passive, and that made Lex even harder. Lex watched as he covered up all that beautiful skin, and there was a charge in that too, knowing that the clothes would soon come off again, the most delicious kind of tease.

Clark adjusted his shirt and turned around. "Well?"

"Walk for me."

Clark looked a little skeptical, but he didn't argue. He walked up and down the living room floor, not prancing or sauntering, not trying to imitate models on the runway, just moving with a boy's natural, lithe grace.

He stopped and turned in a little circle. "What do you think?"

Lex ate him up with hungry eyes. "Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous."

Clark's cheeks colored with pleasure. "What would you like to see next?" His voice was soft, pliant. He clearly understood how much it turned Lex on to call the shots.

"Black suit. Plum shirt. Black tie."

Clark undressed, and this time he lingered, slowly taking the new outfit out of the bags and boxes, turning this way and that, showing off his body. Clearly, he liked being looked at, and that was really quite convenient, since Lex very much enjoyed looking at him.

In the suit, Clark could pass for a young executive down at LexCorp, sleek, even predatory. He walked back and forth across the living room again, only this time it was more of a prowl, and Lex's arousal became unbearable in its intensity.

Clark stalked over to him, and Lex's heart started to pound. Clark took the glass from his hand, had a sip, made a face and put the tumbler down on the table.

"That's twenty year old Scotch you're turning your nose up at," Lex said.

Clark shrugged. "I just don't have a taste for it." He climbed onto the chair, moving seductively, putting one knee on either side of Lex's hips, straddling his lap.

Lex could feel the heat of Clark's body soaking through his clothes. His breath caught in his throat. "No?" But he barely knew what they were talking about anymore.

"No. But I do have a taste for other things." He kissed Lex's neck, his teeth gently scraping the skin.

Lex couldn't hold back a groan.

"Thank you for today. For lunch," he said, between kisses. "For the beautiful clothes. For everything."

Lex stroked his hands up and down Clark's back, luxuriating in the feel of finely woven wool and masculine strength.

Clark kissed him more insistently, pressing his hard-on against Lex's, making Lex gasp out loud. "I know what you want," he said, huskily.

"Oh, yeah?" Lex was breathing hard, and he could feel a flush starting to creep up his neck.

Clark smiled knowingly. "Yeah." He bent his head and whispered against Lex's ear, "I know you want to fuck me." Lex moaned. His hands tightened on Clark's hips. "And I want that, too. I want you to fuck me, Lex. So much."

"God. Clark." Lex pulled him into a fiercely possessive kiss, fingers wound tightly in his hair.

Clark kissed the side of his face and mouthed the line of his jaw, as he moved eagerly against him. "I want you. Only you, Lex."

"Yes." Lex's hands closed on Clark's arms as he tried to disentangle their bodies. "Now."

When Clark understood why Lex was pushing him away, he bounded up from the chair and took Lex's hand as they walked down the hall together. In the doorway of the bedroom, Lex pulled him in for another kiss, sliding his hands along the smooth lapels of Clark's jacket.

He'd been right. He was going to have just as much fun watching this suit come off as he had watching it go on.

Lex was not sentimental about first times so much as practical. How you lost your virginity influenced how you felt about getting fucked for a long time to come. And since he had every intention of fucking Clark as often as humanly possible, he wanted this to go well.

Clark stood by the windows in the bedroom. In the late afternoon light, he looked almost otherworldly, like some mythological god in a Renaissance painting. His gaze locked onto Lex, his eyes filled with questions, maybe even a little fear. But his cock was hard, outlined against the fabric of his fitted black pants, and he licked his lips in anticipation.

Lex knew there were people who would kill to have this, but Clark was his. All his.

He crossed the room and kissed Clark like he was trying to leave a permanent mark of ownership on him. He knew that Clark would moan and beg and tell him it was good, because that's just what hookers did. But he was determined to make all that enthusiasm real, to make this unforgettable. He wanted Clark so addicted to him, to his mouth and hands and cock, that he wouldn't be able to think about anyone else any time soon.

Clark broke the kiss, breathing heavily. His hands went to the buttons of his shirt. "Should I--"

Lex brushed them away. "Let me."

As erotic as it had been to watch Clark undress for him, Lex found an even bigger thrill in doing it himself. His fingers slid along the soft, finely woven cotton of the shirt, stroking over Clark's chest, teasing his already stiff nipples.

"Please," Clark begged. He pressed closer, and Lex could feel the heat and heaviness of his erection against his hip.

Lex only smiled. Clark had no idea yet what it really meant to be desperate, but he would, very soon.

Lex eased the jacket from his shoulders and flung it onto a nearby chair. Taking off beautiful clothes to get to a beautiful body was like unwrapping the best kind of present, and Lex liked to take his time opening his packages. He rubbed his hands in circles over Clark's hips and started to unfasten his belt.

"Yeah," Clark murmured.

Lex pulled the belt from the loops with infinite patience, the leather sliding deliberately across the fabric, teasing, arousing.

Clark shivered. "Please. Just get me naked."

Lex didn't answer, just kissed him, slick thrusts of his tongue that left Clark gasping. He eased Clark down onto the edge of the bed and dropped to his knees. Clark's hands settled onto his shoulders, squeezing, a sense of urgency radiating off him. Lex took off Clark's shoes, pulled off his socks and stroked each bare foot reverently, tracing the bones and the high, elegant arches. Clark moaned and opened his legs wider, his cock straining noticeably against his pants.

Lex rose up onto his knees and pressed himself between Clark's splayed thighs, leaning in for another kiss.

Clark cradled his head in his hands. "Just fuck me now. Please, Lex. I'm ready."

Lex laughed softly as he strung kisses down Clark's throat. "You're so impatient."

Clark's hands were clenched in his shirt. "I want you so much."

"And I want it to be good," Lex murmured, as he started to unbutton Clark's shirt.

The soft plum fabric fell away, revealing golden skin, and Lex ghosted his fingers over Clark's naked chest, leaning in to taste a nipple.

"Shit!" Clark gasped.

Lex sat back on his heels, opened Clark's pants and pulled them down. He could smell Clark's arousal, and there was a damp spot spreading on the front of his briefs. Lex traced it lightly with his finger.

Clark bucked up into his touch. "God. Please!"

Clark's thighs trembled and his hands shook, and Lex wasn't quite the paragon of self-control he'd liked to think himself. He quickly finished undressing Clark and took his cock in his mouth, without prelude.

Clark moaned and held Lex's head in place, insistently. It was exciting, although not strictly necessary. Lex had every intention of making Clark come as many times as humanly possible, and he planned to start right now. He lavished attention on Clark's cock, using his tongue and lips and the fine edge of his teeth, and Clark went off in his mouth, screaming his name.

Lex sat back and savored the moment. Clark looked raunchily mussed, hair wild, eyes wide and dazed, bright spots of color in his cheeks.

He got to his feet and stripped off his own clothes. "Come on." He held out his hand. "Let's go take a shower."

Clark took his hand and stumbled after him into the bathroom. Lex maneuvered him into the shower, under the warm spray. The water slicked Clark's skin, ran in rivulets down his long legs. Lex soaped his hands and ran them all over Clark's body, touching him everywhere. A teenager's libido was one of the great marvels of nature, and Clark started to get hard again.

Lex let his hand wander down Clark's back to his ass. He cupped the muscular cheeks and dipped one finger into the cleft.

Clark drew in his breath. "Are you going to--"

"Not yet. I want to fuck you in my bed. But this is going to feel good. I promise." He pressed a kiss to Clark's damp shoulder. "You're so beautiful." He lightly circled Clark's hole with his finger.

Clark murmured softly and closed his eyes. Lex grew bolder and gently pushed inside. Clark gasped and bucked up, pressing back against Lex's finger. His cock bobbed eagerly.

"Spread your legs for me. Lean forward, put your hands against the tile."

Clark did, making desperate little noises, his thighs trembling. Lex stroked him inside, deeper and deeper, until Clark cried out, "Shit!" His body went rigid and then a tremor passed through him like he'd been hit by lightning.

"Feels so good, doesn't it?" he said against Clark's ear, stroking that hot spot deep inside him.

"God!" Clark started to shake.

Lex added another finger. "I bet that's even better."

Clark moaned. "Please! I need--" He glanced down at his straining cock. "Let me--"

"No."

Clark whimpered in protest.

"Trust me. It'll be good this way." Lex added a third finger, and Clark groaned loudly, frantically fucking himself on Lex's hand.

"That's it. Take what you need," Lex crooned to him. "Just close your eyes and come for me. Come on. Now." He thrust his fingers hard into Clark's body.

Clark screamed, and his cock went off, spewing all over the tile. His knees started to buckle, and Lex caught him, pulling him into his arms. Clark breathed heavily against his shoulder, his whole body shuddering.

"I didn't know it could be like that."

"Did you like it?"

Clark laughed softly. "I almost passed out. So, yeah, I'd have to say I did."

Lex kissed him. "Good." He smiled, rather smugly. "Come on. Let's dry off."

They got out of the shower, wrapped themselves in fluffy towels and padded back to the bedroom.

Lex nodded toward the bed. "Go lie down. On your stomach."

Clark looked a little nervous, but there was heat in his eyes, too. He let his towel fall to the floor and settled onto the bed. Lex pulled out a bottle of massage oil, poured a little into his hands and warmed it. He knelt on the bed beside Clark and started to knead his shoulders.

"It'll help you relax," he said.

Clark sighed. "God. That feels amazing. How'd you get so good at giving massages?"

"I had a Swedish nanny who taught me." Lex started to work his way down Clark's back.

"Mmm," Clark moaned softly and started to push his hips into the mattress.

Lex stroked the soft swell of Clark's ass, his touch lighter, more erotic. "That's right. Just let go."

Clark was breathing hard, and Lex urged him up onto his hands and knees. Clark opened his thighs wider, giving Lex access, permission. Lex spread his cheeks and ran the tip of his tongue along the cleft.

Clark sucked in his breath. "God!"

Lex held his hips still and continued his exploration, working his way back to the little hole, tonguing, stroking with his fingers. Clark moaned, and Lex pushed his tongue inside, breaching him.

"Fuck!" Clark screamed, his whole body shaking.

Lex made sloppy love to Clark's body, and Clark babbled mindlessly, a stream of broken sentences and whimpered pleas and Lex's name over and over again. Clark was boneless and gasping, and Lex was so hard he hurt.

He pulled on a condom, his hands shaking, lubed Clark and himself, and pressed his cock against Clark's entrance. "Are you ready?"

"Yes! Just fuck me, Lex. Fuck me now." He spread his legs wider in encouragement.

Lex had never been one to go trolling for virgins. He just liked sex. He didn't particularly care how many other people his partner had fucked. But as he slowly sank into Clark's body, he was profoundly aware that he was the first, the only. Clark was so tight and so sweet, and all for him.

"Mine," he said, as he started to thrust.

"God, yes. Yours. All yours, Lex. Fuck me. Please."

He rocked his hips harder, fucking in earnest, and Clark pushed back, meeting every thrust. Lex snaked his hand around Clark's body to stroke his cock. Clark whimpered. His shoulders shook. His thighs trembled. He pushed back frantically against Lex's cock and forward into his hand.

"Lex! God-- I'm going to--" His body went stiff, and he spurted in Lex's hand, screaming his name.

Lex squeezed his eyes tightly shut as Clark's spasming body pulled the orgasm out of him. Clark collapsed onto the bed, and Lex slumped against him, trying to catch his breath. When he could make himself move, he carefully pulled out, threw the condom in the trash and lay down beside Clark.

Clark burrowed against him. Lex brushed the hair back from his forehead. "How do you feel?"

"Mmm. Fantastic."

"Good." Lex pulled him into his arms.

"You wore me out, though," Clark said drowsily.

Lex pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Go to sleep."

Clark nodded. "And when we wake up, we can do it again." He sounded quite pleased at the prospect.

Lex fell asleep smiling.

The next morning, Lex was up at the usual hour, the sun just beginning to glow red on the horizon. He straightened his tie in the mirror and pulled on his jacket, the room still in shadows. He made it a habit to get to the office before everyone else. It kept his people on their toes.

Clark lay sleeping, comfortably sprawled, his long legs tangled in the covers, only a corner of the sheet draped over his hips, leaving little to the imagination. Lex smiled. Even the steamiest fantasies couldn't rival the reality of their first time together. Or the second. Or third.

He crossed the room and bent to give Clark a quick goodbye kiss. Clark sighed softly. His mouth opened beneath Lex's, and he kissed back lazily.

Lex stroked his cheek. "Morning."

Clark blinked up at him sleepily. "Mmm. Morning." He rubbed his hand over the sleeve of Lex's pinstriped suit. "You look amazing. Where are you going?"

Lex smiled. "It's Monday, and I have to go to the office. You may have heard of the concept?"

Clark looked thoughtful and then shook his head. "Nope. Doesn't sound familiar." He propped himself up on his elbow. "So what should I do today?"

"Whatever you like." Lex let his fingers wander along the soft skin of Clark's arm, down his belly, over his hip. He nudged the sheet away. He really did have to go, but he just couldn't resist. "There are DVDs and video games in the living room if you want to stay in. Or if you decide to go out, I left some cash and a credit card on the table. Get anything you need, go anywhere you want."

Clark smiled and stretched, giving Lex a better view of his body. His cock rested against his thigh. As Lex's greedy gaze traveled over his bare skin, it began to stir.

Lex swallowed hard, his throat going dry. "I'll call you later."

"Mmm. Okay." Clark shifted on the bed. "I guess I'll just have to find some way to amuse myself." He rubbed his hand between his nipples, his eyes fastened on Lex, his cock starting to fill.

Lex could only stare, his mouth hanging open, as Clark's hand wandered down over his belly, into the tangle of hair and finally to his cock.

"Or you could stay home with me, and we could find something to do together." Clark's fingers trailed along his erection, making Lex's cock twitch in response.

Lex had to clench his hands into fists at his sides to keep from touching him. "Unfortunately, I have a meeting with my board of directors. I don't think they'd understand if I just failed to show up."

Clark rubbed his cheek against the pillow. "That's too bad." He sighed and spread his legs. "I guess I'll just have to lie here and think about you then. If you're sure you can't stay." He fisted his cock, his eyes never leaving Lex's face.

Lex made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. Briefly, he entertained excuses he could make to his assistant, but the meeting really was important. And Clark would be here when he got home tonight. That was the point of their arrangement, after all.

"I have to go," he said, making himself move toward the door. "I'll see you later."

Clark didn't answer. There was just the soft fleshy sound of his hand moving on his cock, along with the little grunts and whimpers he made as he started to jerk off. Lex didn't look back. If he did, he knew he'd never leave. He was halfway down the hall when he heard Clark call out in a breathy voice: "Oh, God. Lex. Yeah. Touch me. Just like that."

He sucked in his breath and stopped in his tracks. God. He deserved an award for willpower for walking away from that. He allowed himself one brief stroke of his hand down the front of his pants, his hard cock jerking eagerly at his touch. He really did have to get to that meeting. He readjusted himself and hurried to the elevator before he changed his mind.

At the office, he said a cheerful good morning to the security guard behind the desk, to the other people on the elevator, even to Marvin, the afraid-of-his-own-shadow temp who was filling in for his assistant June while she was out on maternity leave. That everyone seemed rather surprised he was in a good mood was something he chose not to analyze.

He joined his board of directors in the conference room, and they breezed through the agenda, reaching several important decisions on LexCorp's expansion efforts. He returned to his office, and his assistant came scuttling in after him.

"Um-- Mr. Luthor?"

"Yes?" he said, briskly.

This seemed to fluster Marvin. "There's, uh-- He says he has an appointment, but I don't have it down in my book. Sam Phelan?"

"Send him in. Hold my calls."

Marvin hesitated, as if he didn't quite know how to sort out of the contradiction between what was written in the planner and what Lex was telling him. Lex cast an icy glare in his direction, and that finally jolted him into action.

"Right away, Mr. Luthor." He hurried away.

Lex sighed. He could only hope June didn't plan on having any more children anytime soon. He pulled the notebook out of his briefcase with the information he'd collected so far on Clark. Phelan sauntered in a moment later.

"Lex."

"Phelan."

The ex-cop settled in the chair across from him. "So you've got a job for me." The corners of his mouth turned up smugly.

Lex's jaw tightened. He'd really hoped to be through with Phelan for good, but the man was just too effective not to use him for something this important. "I need you to find out about someone for me."

"Got a picture?"

He handed Phelan a casual photo he'd taken of Clark at the penthouse. "But it's just for your reference. I don't want you showing it around. This needs to stay completely confidential."

"May take longer that way."

"Doesn't matter. I want it done right."

"So what else can you tell me?" Phelan took out a small notebook. "I don't suppose you have a name?"

"Clark. I'm pretty sure that's not made up. I don't know the last name."

Phelan studied the photograph. "Looks young."

"Somewhere between sixteen and twenty-one, I'd guess." Phelan's knowing smile made him feel like he needed a shower.

"From Metropolis?"

"Possibly. But my guess would be one of the small towns in the surrounding area. You should look for families with a son who's gone missing in the last four months or so. Also they may have suffered some other loss. Someone may have been hurt. Check for some kind of accident."

"Like what?"

"That's what I'm paying you to figure out," Lex snapped.

Phelan held up his hand. "Hey, relax. I'm just trying to get all the information."

"Well, that's all I have. I'm expecting you to do the rest."

Phelan's eyes glinted. "Don't I always?" He stood up. "I'll be in touch when I have something to report." He let the door slam behind him.

Lex let out his breath. Seeing Phelan again was like crawling through the grimy underbelly of his own past. He certainly didn't enjoy it. But he couldn't trust finding out the truth about Clark to anyone less resourceful.

Lex leaned back in his chair and let his mind drift to thoughts of Clark. Last night had been perhaps the most exciting night of his life, and that was saying something. He was hardly a shrinking violet. Of course, he'd been careful and gentle the first time he'd taken Clark. He was still just a kid after all, sweet virgin boy. But the second and third times-- well, things had gotten rather out of control. Lex hadn't even intended to fuck him again that night. But, God, the way Clark begged for it. Just remembering it left him with a hot sensation in the pit of his stomach.

He picked up the phone. He'd been waiting to do this all morning, savoring the anticipation. He dialed, and Clark picked up on the first ring.

"Lex?"

"Sitting by the phone, huh?"

Clark laughed softly. "Okay, so I was kind of hoping you'd call." He sounded genuinely happy, and that warmed Lex.

"Everything all right?"

"Yeah. Well, except that you're not here. Otherwise, everything's good. Hey, you didn't tell me you have, like, every Xbox game ever made. And Playstation, too. It's like an arcade right here in your living room."

"I didn't know you liked video games."

Clark snorted. "Who doesn't?"

Lex smiled. "So I take it you're suitably entertained, then?"

"Yeah." His voice dropped huskily. "Although not as entertained as I hope to be when you get home."

Lex shifted in his chair, pressing the heel of his hand against his throbbing cock. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah." Clark's voice was soft, silky. "I've been thinking about it. About you and me and what we did last night. I want it so much. I want to do it in every room of the apartment. What do you think about that?"

"I think you have some very interesting ideas. I think--" He was about to share some interesting ideas of his own when Marvin came scurrying in, his expression more worried than usual, his timing just as appalling.

"What, Lex? What do you want? Tell me." Clark's voice was both earnest and sultry, and Lex could just picture the expression on his face.

"I wish I could-- But--"

Clark laughed. "Someone's there, huh?"

"Yes."

"Okay. I'll let you go. But come home soon?"

The need sounded so genuine, and it got under Lex's skin. "Soon," he said, softly. "I promise."

"Good," Clark said with satisfaction. "Bye, Lex."

"Bye." He hung up and looked impatiently at Marvin. "Yes?"

"Um-- Something came for you. A fax. From that research thing--"

"Cadmus Labs?"

"Right. That's the place. It's marked urgent."

"So give it to me." Lex held out his hand.

"It's just-- I don't think you're going to like it." Marvin handed over the fax reluctantly.

Lex perused it. "What the fucking hell?" He could feel his blood pressure going up.

Marvin held up hands, looking a little panicked. "That's all I know. Honest."

The document was a press release from LuthorCorp announcing a new, more environmentally friendly agricultural-grade pesticide. It also happened to be a product under development at Cadmus Labs, that LexCorp had been poised to introduce in the next few weeks. It was something so top secret that only the highest level of management at Cadmus and a few select people at the corporate office knew anything about it. And yet, his father had managed to get his hands on it and beat Lex to market. He ground his teeth together.

"I want security teams to sweep every LexCorp office for listening devices."

Marvin scribbled a note on his pad. "Right."

"And get me personnel records on everyone at Cadmus, as well as the research and development team here."

"Right."

"Well, what are you waiting for? Go!"

Marvin nearly jumped out of his skin. "Of course, Mr. Luthor. Right away, sir."

He rushed off, looking rather relieved to get away. Lex's cell phone rang, and he glared at it. Only a few people had this number, and he had no doubt who was calling.

"What?" he barked into it.

"Lex. My boy. You sound rather testy. Is everything all right?"

He let out his breath and tried to regain his composure. "What do you want, Dad?"

"Do I need a reason to call my own son? I hope your bad temper doesn't mean something's gone wrong at that little startup venture of yours."

"I will figure it out, Dad. You know I will."

His father laughed. "Of course, I have no idea what you mean."

Lex's grip tightened dangerously on the phone. "No, of course you don't. So you also won't know what I mean when I say that I won't forget this anytime soon." He hung up and hurled the phone across the office.

He spent the rest of the day wading through personnel reports, trying to find a suspect, yelling at the director of Cadmus for not doing a better job protecting their research, checking in with the security teams that were sweeping his buildings, and just generally being in a pissy mood.

By the end of the day, he'd learned little, if anything. He threw the rest of his paperwork into his briefcase and headed home.

At the penthouse, he got off the elevator. The living room was empty, but he could hear stirring in the kitchen. He tossed his jacket and briefcase onto a convenient chair and headed straight for the bar. He poured himself several fingers of Scotch and threw back half of it in the first gulp.

"Lex?" Clark stood in the doorway, watching him.

"Clark." He finished his drink and poured another.

"Bad day, huh?"

Lex's grip tightened on the glass. "You could say that."

Clark came to stand next to him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really. I just--" He drew Clark in for a kiss, fingers tangling in his hair.

Clark made a soft sound and pressed closer. They kissed until Lex started to hate the world a little less.

"I'm sorry you had a bad day." Clark gently stroked Lex's shoulder.

Lex brushed their lips together. "At least things are starting to look up now."

Clark smiled. "You need to unwind a little. Come on." He guided Lex over to a chair and knelt in front of him. "Just lean back and close your eyes and relax, okay?"

He murmured softly as Clark opened his pants and became downright unintelligible as Clark's hot, sweet mouth descended on his cock. He tried to buck up, wanting more, but Clark held him still, refusing to rush, giving him the chance to sink slowly, thoroughly into his pleasure. He let his head fall back, ran his fingers through Clark's soft hair and let Clark take care of him, gasping his name when he came.

Clark tucked him gently back into his pants. "Better?"

Lex wiped the last of his come from Clark's lips. "Better."

Clark smiled up at him, his eyes shining. "Good." He rubbed his hands up and down Lex's thighs. "So here's what I think we should do now. I'm going to order a pizza, and we're going to eat it while I show you how Halo should really be played."

Lex's lips quirked. "Oh, yeah?"

Clark rose up on his knees to kiss him, open-mouthed and sloppy and arousing. "Yeah." His eyes darkened. "And then we can go to bed and work some more on helping you relax. What do you think about that?"

Lex stroked his finger along one beautifully sculpted cheekbone. "I think it's a plan."

In the past, business before pleasure was an axiom Lex had subscribed to pretty much without question or hesitation. Now that Clark had arrived, he still practiced it, although with far more resentment.

It was the fourth time this week he'd come home to find the penthouse dark and silent, making him wish just for an instant that he weren't the boss. He didn't even bother to check his watch. He knew it was an ungodly late hour. He dropped his briefcase by the door and let out his breath, relieved to finally be finished for the day, so exhausted the short walk to the bedroom seemed dispiritingly far. He detoured past the bar to pour himself a Scotch and trudged down the hall.

The last few weeks had been a blur of work. Shoring up security had taken precedence over everything else, demanding long hours every day. The investigation into the leak of the new product lumbered along. The team of industrial espionage specialists he'd called in were sifting through the company's records, mapping all communications in and out of the company over the past few months, looking for patterns, leads, anything that might point to a suspect.

The process was painstaking, and Lex needed to be patient. That's what they kept telling him anyway. Unfortunately, patience had never been one of his virtues.

Of course, business still went on as usual. A variety of other problems had cropped up, instability in the Asian market, production delays at several of their factories, a contract dispute with a key client. It all added up to long hours, no sleep and no Clark.

He stopped in the doorway of his room to finish his drink and watch Clark. After many nights of coming home to find him sacked out on the sofa, Lex had finally convinced him not to wait up anymore. He was always too tired at the end of a long day to make love, and there was no point in both of them being worn out.

On the plus side, he did enjoy these quiet moments, watching Clark asleep in his bed, looking like he couldn't possibly belong anywhere else. Moonlight streamed in through the window, and Lex studied him, the tousle of dark hair against the pillow, the elegant curve of his bare back. A warm, satisfied feeling surged through him. It was good to be home.

He took off his clothes, threw them across the back of a chair and slipped into bed. He molded himself to Clark's back, kissed the unruly curls, pressed his face into the warm hollow of Clark's neck and breathed him in. It was amazing how comforting Clark's sweet, clean boy smell was, how quickly it had become familiar, like there had never been anyone else.

After Helen, he never thought he'd feel anything even close to this ever again. In the months following the debacle of their marriage, after he'd recovered physically if not exactly emotionally, he'd slept his way through half of Metropolis, usually drunk out of his mind, a different face, different body every time. He would wake up in the mornings with the stale aftertaste of the night before in his mouth, the smell of a stranger on his skin, and the dizzying emptiness of it made everything seem unbearably bleak.

It had become such a sweet relief to have Clark in his arms every night, to wake up to him every morning. It had grown disturbingly easy to forget the weekly checks that kept him there, to pretend this had nothing to do with money.

"Lex," Clark murmured drowsily.

Lex kissed the top of his head. "Go back to sleep."

Clark shifted in his arms, turning to face him, dropping a kiss to his chest. "I'm glad you're home.

His hand skimmed over Lex's hip, along his thigh. Even though Lex had gotten, at best, six hours of sleep in the past three days, his cock still stirred with interest.

"Mmm." Clark reached for his erection.

Lex caught his hand and kissed it. "Sleep now."

"But I've missed you."

Lex tightened his arms around him. "Tomorrow," he said, already starting to drift off.

"Mmm. Good." Clark snuggled against him. "Tomorrow."

The next morning, the sun was bright in Lex's eyes when he woke up. He scrubbed his hands over his face. There was a full day of meetings ahead of him, he needed to get in touch with his people in Britain first thing, and somehow he'd managed to oversleep. Sadly, it seemed spending time with Clark was going to have to wait a little while longer.

He started to slip out of bed, but a hand closed around his wrist and hauled him back. "Clark, I'm going to be late."

"You promised me."

"I know but--"

Clark flipped him onto his back and climbed on top of him. "But nothing." He held Lex down, lined up their cocks and started to thrust.

"Fuck!"

Clark grinned. "Exactly."

Bright sparkles of pleasure shot through Lex, making it nearly impossible to care about business, even though he really, really needed to. "You have to stop." It sounded feeble, even to him.

Clark ended the debate with a wet, raunchy kiss, all porn tongue and possession, and Lex was no match for that. He locked his legs around Clark's waist, dug his fingers into his shoulders, and held on for the ride.

"Yeah, yeah," Clark chanted, moving faster, pushing his hips harder against Lex's, pressing him into the mattress.

Lex came, and Clark quickly followed. They lay tangled together, sweaty and panting. Clark leaned in for a kiss. "Aren't you glad you're going to be late now?"

He nipped lightly at Clark's lower lip. "You've sold me on the joys of tardiness." He gave Clark another quick kiss and wiped himself off with the corner of the sheet. Oddly, though, he still felt wet and sticky. He tried again and again, but he couldn't seem to get clean.

Lex's eyes shot open, and he looked around in confusion. The room was still dark, the sun not yet up. Clark lay heavily against him, sleeping soundly, and Lex's belly was indeed wet and sticky. It was sad, really, that he'd been reduced to getting off in his sleep when his real-life wet dream was lying right next to him.

He sighed. Unfortunately, he did need to talk to the London office as soon as possible, and there was a meeting at eight. He got up as quietly as he could. Clark didn't stir. He padded into the bathroom, and half an hour later, he was dressed and ready to go. He paused by the side of the bed. In his sleep, Clark looked so young and boyish, and Lex's throat tightened. He bent to kiss his forehead but stopped himself. If he woke Clark up, it would be just as difficult to leave as it had been in the dream.

The morning passed in a blur. It wasn't until after lunch that he had time to think about anything that wasn't a report in his hands or a pressing decision that needed to be made.

He was just about to dial the penthouse when his assistant buzzed him. "You have a call from Clark?"

"Put him through." He picked up the phone. "Clark."

"Hey." Clark's voice was soft, disappointed, maybe even hurt.

Lex let out his breath. "Look, about this morning--"

"I'm not trying to make you feel bad. I just-- You could have woken me up and let me kiss you good-bye."

"It wouldn't have stopped at a kiss."

"Would that be so bad?"

"When I have an eight o'clock meeting? Yes. But I will make it up to you. I promise. Tonight--"

"No. Not tonight. Now."

"Clark, I can't just leave--" There was an odd sound on the other end of the line, and Lex realized with a sharp jolt that it was heavy breathing. "Oh, no. No. Don't even think about it."

Clark sighed softly. "It feels so good, Lex. So good."

"God."

"I took my shirt off. I have my pants open. I want to touch myself so bad, Lex. That's what I do when you're not here. I think about you, about all the things I want you to do to me."

Lex's skin felt too hot beneath his clothes. His cock strained in his suddenly too-tight pants. "Clark. We can't--"

"Do you know what I used to fantasize about back at the club before we met? I want to tell you, Lex. I want you to listen and touch yourself and pretend it's happening. Please." Clark's voice was breathy and urgent, and there was no resisting it. Lex moaned softly and eased his zipper down. His cock surged beneath his hand.

Marvin, with his usual flair for choosing the worst possible moment, rang him on the intercom. "Mr. Luthor, you have a call from--"

Lex jabbed at the button. "No interruptions!"

Marvin made a little squeak. "Uh. Sorry."

The intercom went dead. Lex went back to what was important. "Are you still there?"

"Mmm. Yeah. I took my clothes off. My cock is so hard it hurts, Lex. That's how bad I want you. How bad I've always wanted you. I used to see you at the club and imagine all kinds of things."

Lex's cock twitched in his hand. "Like what?"

"Like I'm on the dance floor, all by myself. The music is so loud, and I can feel it all through my body, everywhere. And I just have to move and move. The room is so hot, and I'm not wearing a shirt. Sweat runs down my back, and I'm so hard. All the men are staring. They want to touch me, but I don't care. Because you're there, sleek and beautiful and perfect. And you're watching me, too. And I can't see anybody but you. Don't want anyone else. Ever."

Lex's breath caught in his throat. "God, Clark." His hand moved faster on his cock.

"I touch myself all over, trying to get you to come to me. I run my hands over my hips. Play with my nipples. Rub my cock through my pants. To show you. All yours, only yours."

Lex growled in the back of his throat. "Damned right you're mine."

"You finally decide to show everybody that. You get up and walk over to me. And I can't breathe. I want you so bad. You get closer and closer, but you don't touch me. I can feel your heat, but not your skin. And I think I'm going to die if you don't put your hands on me. You finally do, your arms around my waist, pulling me against you, and then I know I'm going to die. Because you're everywhere, your body and your mouth and your hands, all over me. And, God, it's too much. Too good."

"I'm going to fuck you so hard." Lex thrust forcefully into his fist.

Clark moaned. "Oh, yeah. Yeah. You open my pants and spin me around. I can feel your hard-on against my ass. The music gets even louder, and we're moving to it. Everybody is still watching. You push my pants down and bite my neck. Because I'm yours. I've never let anybody else fuck me, because it had to be you. Only you. You tease me and tease me, your cock sliding against me, making me crazy. Until you finally just do it, push inside me, make me scream."

"You're so hot and tight. I can't believe how good you feel."

"And you're so big, like I always knew you would be. You fill me up, and it's better than I ever imagined. You fuck me so hard I'm never going to stop feeling it."

Lex panted. There was the familiar heat in the pit of his stomach, the pressure at the base of his cock, the tingling all down his back.

"The other guys are staring and jerking off. But they can only look, not touch. I like that. Like it so much. I'm getting really close..." Clark made a half-strangled noise. Apparently, Lex wasn't the only one on the brink. "And then... Then...You come inside me. Right there on the dance floor. And I...come in my hand. And everybody knows. They know...I belong...to you."

Lex had to bite his lip to keep from screaming, pleasure hitting him like a runaway train, wave after wave of come spraying his desk. He collapsed back against his chair, deep shudders running through his body, as he struggled to catch his breath.

It took a while to pull himself together enough to speak. "Clark?" There was no answer. "Clark? Are you there?"

He heard muffled sounds and then Clark's voice, "Yeah. Sorry. Dropped the phone." He laughed. "I'm kind of a mess here."

Lex smiled softly. "Yeah, me too."

"You're not mad then?"

"I don't think anger is the typical reaction after you've had a mind-melting orgasm."

"Really?" Clark sounded quite pleased with himself.

"Really."

"So...will I see you tonight?"

Lex thought about all the financial data to wade through and the second quarter reports to review and everything else that needed his attention. Then, again, some of the most important business deals happened outside the office, at charity events and art openings and all the places the people who ran the world liked to congregate. He'd been neglecting that part of his CEO duties for too long, not to mention neglecting Clark.

"Be ready at seven. Wear something nice. I'll send the limo for you."

"Cool! Where are we going?"

"Someplace where I can show you off."

He could feel Clark's smile even if he couldn't see it. "I can't wait."

"Me, either. See you soon." He hung up and buzzed his assistant. "Call the organizers of the Metropolis Opera benefit and tell them I will attend after all, along with a guest."

"But you told me to decline that invitation."

Lex sighed. "Well, now I'm telling you to accept it."

"Oh." Marvin sounded rather flummoxed that Lex would actually change his mind. "Okay, then."

Lex rolled his eyes. He had the days marked on his calendar until June returned. The time could not pass quickly enough.

The limo pulled up in front of LexCorp Tower promptly at 7:30. The driver opened the door and Lex slid inside. Clark smiled at him. He was sleek in a navy suit, his hair smoothed back, making him look older and rather glamorous. Lex pulled him in for a thorough kiss.

"Mmm," Clark sighed against his mouth. "I'm so glad to see you."

"Me too. You look amazing."

Clark's cheek went pink. "Thanks."

Lex smiled and kissed him again. It was a delicious contradiction, that the boy who'd shared his raunchiest fantasy over the phone just that morning while they'd both jerked off could blush at a simple compliment.

"So where are we going?" Clark asked, his face bright with curiosity.

"A benefit for the Metropolis Opera. It's good to make the rounds, shake the right hands."

"Oh." Clark's eyes dropped to the floor.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"Clark."

He sighed. "It's just-- It sounds fancy. Not exactly what I'm used to. I don't want to embarrass you."

"Hey." Lex tilted Clark's chin up, making him meet his eye. "You could never embarrass me. There's no need to be nervous."

Clark didn't particularly looked convinced. Lex rubbed his arm. "I know what will help."

He pressed a button on the armrest, and the window separating them from the driver slid closed. He slipped off the seat and onto his knees in front of Clark.

"What are you doing?"

Lex reached for the fly of his pants. "Helping you relax."

Clark sucked in his breath. "God." Lex pulled his cock free from his underwear and went down on him. "Oh, my God!" Clark's cock was instantly hard in his mouth.

They didn't have much time, and Lex wanted it quick and dirty anyway. He liked the way it made Clark clutch at his shoulders, liked the noises that streamed out of him, the way he shook all over when he shot in Lex's mouth.

By the time they pulled up outside the opera house, he was tucking Clark's spent cock back into his pants and wiping the come from his lips. Clark was now appealingly mussed. His eyes sparkled, and he looked anything but nervous.

There was a small crowd waiting on the sidewalk when they got out of the limo. Large society gatherings like this attracted the press and curious on-lookers.

Clark reached for his hand, but then quickly pulled away. "Sorry," he whispered. "I wasn't thinking."

Lex took his hand and held on to it firmly as they walked to the entrance. "We wouldn't be here if this wasn't okay."

Clark blinked. "I just assumed--"

"That's one good thing about being a Luthor, Clark." He smiled, showing his teeth. "You can do whatever you want and flaunt it with impunity." He leaned in for a quick kiss. "Besides, how will we make people jealous if they don't know we're lovers?"

"Lovers," Clark repeated, a smile lighting up his face. If Lex's bisexuality weren't already common knowledge, this would have made it well worth coming out.

Inside, the room was bathed in golden light from the elaborate crystal chandeliers and festooned with enormous flower arrangements in porcelain vases. Tables of food lined the walls, and there were two large bars set up at either end of the room.

"Wow," Clark said. "It's beautiful."

Lex squeezed his hand. "You're beautiful."

This earned him another brilliant smile, and Lex promised himself never to get so caught up in work again that he missed out on this. Clark wouldn't be his forever, and he had to enjoy him while he could.

They got drinks from the bar--Clark a soda, Lex a Scotch--and started to circulate. Lex rested his hand on the small of Clark's back and guided him over to the various people he needed to say hello to. Lex did most of the talking, while Clark smiled politely. More than one pair of eyes fastened on Lex with naked envy, much to his satisfaction.

They made a circuit through the room and then took a break, off to one side, enjoying a moment alone. Lex sipped his drink and studied Clark. He looked slightly distracted, like there was something on his mind.

Lex nudged him gently with his elbow. "Hey, everything all right?"

"Oh, yeah. Yeah. It's just-- I didn't think you'd introduce me to your friends." His voice went soft. "Thanks."

"You know, Clark, I'm not sure these people are exactly friends of mine. But as far as I'm concerned, they're lucky to get to meet you."

Clark's eyes turned a deeper, hotter color, and he leaned in to Lex. Before they could kiss, though, a familiar voice rang out. "Lex! You absolutely must introduce me to this handsome young man."

Lex sighed and plastered a smile on his face. "Mitzi. How nice to see you." He kissed her surgically smoothed cheek.

Mitzi Costner Kidderson was the acknowledged matriarch of Metropolis society, and for whatever reason, Lex had always been a great favorite of hers. He'd landed more than one important client based solely on Mitzi's recommendation of him.

"You're looking quite lovely tonight," he told her. "Where's Edgar? I'm surprised he's not sticking close to discourage your admirers."

She laughed girlishly. "Oh, Lex." She put her hand on his arm. "You're a terrible flatterer." Her wide smile said she didn't mind a bit. "But don't keep me in suspense any longer. I want to meet your charming young friend."

"Of course. Mitzi, this is Clark--" He hesitated. "Smith. Clark Smith. And Clark, this is Mitzi Costner Kidderson, a dear friend."

Clark held out his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Kidderson."

Mitzi took his hand. "Oh, my dear boy. The pleasure is all mine. Has anyone ever told you how absolutely, divinely gorgeous you are?" She waved her hand. "But of course, they have. What am I saying?"

Clark blushed fiercely. "Um. Thanks."

"Oh! And modest, too. How wonderfully endearing. You're just an absolute treasure." She turned to Lex. "I hope you know how lucky you are."

"I certainly do." He pulled Clark close and kissed him. Clark held himself stiffly at first, obviously not sure they should be doing this in front of a society lady. Lex licked at his lips until Clark sighed and leaned in and kissed back.

Mitzi stared, her eyes wide, a flush spreading along her cheeks. This was obviously more of a thrill than she usually got in her rarefied social circles, and Lex suspected this was exactly why she liked him so much, because he refused to play by anyone else's stuffy rules.

"Well, then. Yes." She recollected herself. "I'd best go say hello to the host, but it was lovely to meet you, Clark."

"You too, Mrs. Kidderson."

"And Lex." She whacked him playfully on the arm with her sequined evening bag. "Don't be a stranger."

He smiled genially. "I hope to see you very soon, Mitzi."

She waved and walked off, and Clark let out his breath. "She seemed nice."

Lex laughed. "Well, she certainly was taken with you."

He was rewarded with an adorable blush and was just about to suggest they call it an evening and head home to more interesting amusements. But unfortunately found himself cornered by Bill Taylor, majority owner of a company LexCorp was trying to do business with.

"Lex Luthor. I thought it was you."

"Bill." Lex held out his hand. "How are you?" The man's grip was clammy, his eyes too bright. Apparently, Bill had been taking full advantage of the open bar.

"I'm doing damned good, Luthor. Damned good." His words were slurred, his voice just a notch too loud. He nodded toward Clark. "Who's your pretty boy?"

Lex smiled coldly. Bill Taylor had to be the biggest horse's ass he'd ever met. "This is Clark Smith." He put his hand on Clark's shoulder. "Clark, this is Bill Taylor, a business associate of mine."

Bill shook Clark's hand, holding on too long. Clark leaned closer to Lex, and Lex put his arm around him, pulling him close to his side.

It was not a particularly subtle gesture, and Bill's face turned a deeper shade of crimson. "I stand to make your friend here quite a bit of money, did he tell you that?"

Clark looked uncertainly at Lex. "Um...well--"

"We don't really discuss business at home, Bill. I'm sure you understand. Marjorie probably isn't any more interested in hearing about it than Clark is."

Bill colored deeply at the mention of his wife. He tended to forget he was married, particularly in the company of attractive young men like Clark. "Of course, that's only if we decide to award LexCorp those contracts. I'm behind you all the way, of course. But I have to tell you, Luthor, my board's not completely convinced."

"Mmm," Lex said dispassionately. "Well, I'm sure if they review the offer they'll find it's more than generous. Far better than any of our competitors are willing to do."

"Business decisions aren't always made on numbers alone, Luthor. You know that. Sometimes, there are--shall we say intangibles--that factor in." He took a deep sip of his drink, leering at Clark over the rim of his glass.

Clark shifted nervously. Lex put a hand on his shoulder. "Weren't you going to go get me another Scotch?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I forgot. I'll just be a minute." He shot Lex a look of gratitude and hurried off to the bar.

Bill watched him go, ogling Clark's ass in a way Lex really didn't appreciate. "Your pretty boy is quite something, Luthor."

"I certainly think so," he said, contemplating the Nobel Peace Prize he deserved for such a display of restraint.

"You know, I really would like to award you those contracts."

"I'm confident we can do business to our mutual advantage."

"Yeah, that's the way business is. I scratch your back. You scratch mine. Know what I mean?" He nodded his head in the direction of Clark, who was standing in line at the bar.

Lex's jaw tightened, his polite smile disappearing. He knew perfectly well what the man was suggesting, and the idea of passing Clark around to his business associates to cement deals made him want to be violently sick.

"Pretty much all the scratching I'm going to do, Bill, is to give you a superior product for a competitive price. If you want to take us up on our offer, great. If not, that's fine, too." He nodded curtly. "Goodnight." And went to join Clark.

"Is everything okay?" Clark looked concerned.

"Everything's fine."

"He's not going to give you those contracts, is he?"

"He just likes to bluster. It's nothing to worry about."

"It's because of me. He wanted--" Clark looked down at the floor.

"The guy's an asshole, Clark. He likes to push his weight around. That's all."

"Would you like me to help you with the deal? I could--" He glanced in Bill Taylor's direction. "You know."

"Yes, I do know." He kissed Clark, framing his face with his hands. "And, no, I wouldn't like that. I wouldn't like it at all." A fiercely possessive note crept into his voice.

Clark looked rather relieved. He moved closer, put his hand on Lex's hip, rubbing his thumb in circles. "Would you like to take me home?"

Lex pressed his lips to Clark's neck and whispered against his ear, "Now, that I would enjoy."

Clark smiled and reached for him. They left the same way they'd arrived, holding hands.

Lex was always rather amused by the odd things that affected business. Economics textbooks would have you believe it was all a matter of disinterested market forces, the cool logic of supply and demand, simple facts. This had to make anyone laugh who'd ever actually done business.

The truth was that perception trumped reality almost every time. An aura of success could prove far more valuable, at least in the short run, than actual achievement. Just look at the multitude of CEOs who had parlayed their charisma into larger and larger compensation packages as they steadily drove their companies into the ground.

Lex knew perfectly well how the game worked. And yet, it did still surprise him that his own relationship with another man could have such a profound effect on his company's performance.

After the opera benefit, he and Clark started making the rounds of the social scene. They attended charity auctions and fashion shows, made appearances at all the A-list parties and strolled up the red carpet at local film premieres. Every time they turned around a flash bulb was going off. Their pictures were a staple of the Planet society news and on page 6 of the Intruder in the gossip columns. Lex had even made the cover of Fortune in an article titled "The New Young Titans of Industry," which featured in addition to shots of Lex at the office a big, glossy photo of him relaxing at home with Clark.

He'd been prepared for the publicity surrounding their relationship to send a few shock waves through the LexCorp stock price. Investors were a conservative lot, and not all of them would care to bankroll a gay business leader who flaunted his lover in public.

So when LexCorp stock actually began to rise, he was rather astounded. His financial team had initially been very concerned how lost market share from their stolen product might hurt them, but all their numbers were going through the roof. Sales were up almost fifty percent, and they'd landed a number of important contracts, including the one from Bill Taylor, who'd sounded appropriately sheepish when he'd called to inform Lex of his board's decision.

Lex had occasionally seen this kind of boost come from a high-profile wedding. He found it delightfully ironic that it had not happened for him with either Desiree or Helen, but now, because he was living with a beautiful young man. Apparently, gay was the fashion of the moment, the new black.

The best part, though, was the kick Clark got out of seeing their names in the paper. Every morning, he'd quickly flip the pages to see if they'd been mentioned.

"Hey, we made Liz Smith," he'd say, with an endearing grin, holding up the paper for Lex to see.

It was funny, though. As many pictures as there were of Clark, his face was never clearly visible in any of them. He was always turned away from the camera or in motion when the shot was snapped, little more than a beautiful blur in the printed photograph. Lex wondered if it was just an odd coincidence or if Clark somehow sensed where the cameras were and avoided them. He still believed, as he had from the beginning, from those nights watching Clark in the club, that he was special, that he had hidden talents. That he had secrets.

But he was less anxious lately to uncover Clark's past. A number of weeks had gone by without any word from Phelan. Lex had picked up the phone many times, but he'd never actually made the call. Knowing would change things, and right now, all he wanted was for everything to stay the same.

At least the investigation into the theft of the new pesticide formula was finally making some progress. The team was due to brief him that morning. Marvin showed them in, and he directed them over to the conference table.

"So what do we have?" he asked, settling into a chair.

The head of the team was named Mason Tucker, a former Naval intelligence officer who'd parlayed his military experience into an extremely successful private security business. "We've narrowed it down to a half dozen points of vulnerability. These are the only people who had access to the right information at the right time to be able to pull off the theft." He handed Lex a folder.

Lex perused the list inside and laughed at one of the names. "You've got to be kidding."

"All the subjects had opportunity. We can't rule anyone out at this point."

"So what's our next step?"

"We've concocted a red herring, supposedly top-secret information on new research, that we'll leak to the suspects, and then we'll see who bites. We're monitoring your competitors. If any of our targets makes contact, we'll know about it."

"Do I want to know how you're doing this monitoring?"

Tucker looked him squarely in the eye. "No."

"Fine," Lex said tersely. "Move forward as planned."

"Right away." Tucker stood up, and the rest of his team rose on cue. "We'll report back when there's activity."

Lex nodded distractedly. Tucker and his associates left. Some of the people on the list were among Lex's most trusted employees. It was a kick to the gut, sickening and familiar, the realization that one of them had already betrayed him and was no doubt looking for the opportunity to do it again.

He went back to his desk and picked up the phone. He needed something cheerful to think about.

"Hello?" Clark answered.

"Hey."

"Lex." Clark's voice grew warmer, more intimate, and that made Lex smile. "How's your day?"

"Okay. How about you? What are you up to?"

"I played tennis with Mitzi this morning."

Lex grinned. After their first meeting, Mitzi Kidderson had decided that Clark was her new best friend. She'd made her intentions clear at the next society gathering they'd attended, marching up and claiming Clark.

"You don't mind if I borrow him for a little while, do you, Lex?"

As it happened, Lex had rather minded. He'd slung his arm over Clark's shoulders and given Mitzi a look of warning.

She'd waved him off. "Oh, please. There's no need to urinate on the poor boy, Lex. No one is trying to encroach on your territory. But Clark's moving in these circles now, and he should get to know people. I'm sure you agree." She hooked her arm through Clark's and whisked him away.

Since then, she'd arranged for Clark to have tennis lessons from her pro. She was redecorating her living room and took him with her to the designers to get a man's opinion. They had lunch several times a week, and she was teaching him to play bridge so he could join her weekly game.

"It's much better than having the poor boy cooped up in that apartment all day while you're at work," Mitzi had insisted.

When Lex asked Clark how he felt about it, he said it was kind of weird being a lady who lunches, but he liked Mitzi. Lex had noticed that Mitzi's friendship had helped Clark feel more comfortable in society. Now when they went to events, Clark seemed perfectly at home, exchanging small talk with people he'd met through her. In those moments, Lex was rather fond of Mitzi Kidderson himself.

"So what would you like to do tonight?" he asked.

"I don't know. I'm really up for anything. Is there somewhere you need to go?"

"Not really. Maybe we'll just have a quiet evening at home."

"That sounds nice."

Lex smiled. "It does, doesn't it? I'll try to get out of here early. See you at six?"

"Can't wait."

They hung up. A moment later, the phone rang. "Clark?"

"Well, I am calling about him." Phelan's amused tone made Lex grit his teeth.

"I thought you'd lost this number," he snapped. "It's been...what? Almost two months since I've heard from you?"

"Well, I'm calling now. And I have everything you wanted to know. The kid's real name is--"

"Tomorrow."

"Excuse me?" Phelan sounded confused.

"I want to do this tomorrow. We can meet then, and you can tell me everything."

"You were just complaining about how long it's taken."

"And after all these weeks, a few more hours isn't going to make a difference. I have--" He wasn't even sure why he was putting this off. It just felt important to spend one last evening with Clark in all the bliss of ignorance. "Other priorities today."

Phelan snorted. "Other priorities, huh?"

"You heard me," Lex said coldly. "Be here tomorrow at nine."

"Fine." Phelan hung up.

Lex called Clark back. "Hey, change of plans. Let's go out tonight after all. Do something special."

"Is there a party?"

"No. I mean just the two of us. We should celebrate. It's like our two-month-and-something anniversary."

"Twelve days. Two months and twelve days."

"Does it mean something that you know the exact number?"

"Only that I keep track of the good things."

It sounded so heartfelt, and a warm feeling spread through Lex's chest. "I know the perfect place for tonight. See you at six."

Clark was waiting for him in the lobby when he arrived, chatting with the doorman. He was dressed in slim black pants, crisp white shirt and a sleek black jacket, urban and sophisticated. When he glanced up and saw Lex, he smiled and stepped into his arms for a hug.

"Hey." Lex kissed him, lightly, affectionately. "You ready?"

"Let's go."

They held hands out to the car. Lex opened the door for him, and Clark grinned at him. "You're such a gentleman."

Lex took him by the lapels and hauled him in for another kiss, far more predatory than the last one. "See if you still think so later on."

Clark shivered and pressed closer. Lex kissed him again, then made himself let go and head around to the other side of the car. A few more kisses like that, and there were going to end up naked on the penthouse floor for the rest of the night. Not that this was a bad thing, but he really did want to take Clark out on the town.

In the car, Clark fiddled with the CD player. Lex watched him out of the corner of his eye. Usually the power of someone's beauty faded rather quickly once you got to know them, no matter how eye-poppingly gorgeous they seemed at first. But not Clark. Every time Lex looked at him, whether he was wearing a pair of old jeans or the perfectly tailored suit he had on now, he took Lex's breath away.

Clark smiled softly, knowing perfectly well that Lex was admiring him. "So you didn't tell me where we're going."

"It's a surprise."

Clark arched an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

Clark was clearly intrigued, but he didn't press for details. He did, however, begin to look rather concerned as they headed over the Metropolis Memorial Bridge and into Mayburn, a gritty offshoot of the city.

"Are you sure we're going the right way?"

"Just trust me."

Lex cut across several back streets to get to Lamont Avenue. The Rialto was at the end of it, tucked into a block of warehouses, no sign, just a steel door. If you didn't know it was there, you'd never guess from the exterior.

Lex pulled up to the curb and got out. Clark threw him a slightly worried look, but followed. A valet materialized out of nowhere.

Lex tossed him the keys to the Jaguar. "Take good care of it."

"Of course, Mr. Luthor."

He put his hand on Clark's back and guided him inside.

"Wow," Clark said softly.

The Rialto was one of Metropolis' hidden gems, an old-fashioned cabaret with dinner and dancing, dark and intimate. The walls were lined with plush, private banquettes, candles twinkling on each table. The Rialto catered to a mixed crowd. Gay and straight couples alike swirled around the dance floor. Tonight's performer was Mona Lynan, a blues singer with a sultry voice. She swayed on stage at the far end of the room, singing an old standard, her rendition deep and throaty and undeniably sensual.

"Like it?"

"Are you kidding?"

Lex smiled and squeezed his hand.

Marta, the hostess, greeted them. "Mr. Luthor, welcome to the Rialto. Come right this way. Your table is waiting."

He'd requested one of the more private booths. Clark slid onto the leather seat, and Lex settled beside him.

Marta smiled. "Enjoy your evening."

The banquette was situated in a dark corner, at an odd angle that it made it difficult to see inside. Lex could take Clark on the table and odds were no one would be the wiser. The idea put a shark smile on his face that Clark, of course, did not fail to notice.

"I know you're thinking about sex."

Lex didn't answer, just let his expression speak for itself.

"In public, huh?" Clark laughed huskily. "Well, that's definitely a way to celebrate." He leaned in and his expression grew more serious. "Thank you." He brushed Lex's lips with his. "For bringing me here. It's wonderful."

Lex stroked his fingers through his soft hair. "I'm glad you like it. And I'm glad you're here with me."

He would have gone back for more kisses, but he spotted the sommelier hovering a few feet from their table. He waved him on. "It's okay, Philippe."

"Very good, Mr. Luthor." Philippe produced a bottle of champagne with a flourish. "The Krug Clos du Menil, just as you ordered."

Lex nodded his approval. Philippe uncorked it. His assistants produced glasses, and he poured a taste for Lex. "Very good," he said.

"I'm glad you're pleased, Mr. Luthor." He poured glasses for both of them, returned the bottle to the ice bucket, gave a formal half bow and left them alone.

Lex raised his champagne flute. "To two months and twelve days." Clark smiled. They chinked their glasses together and took a sip.

Lex tilted his head. "Well?"

Clark licked his lips. "It's definitely better than the Scotch." And smiled.

A waiter appeared and set down several plates of appetizers.

"I asked them to bring us an assortment," Lex said. "There's bruschetta and a goat cheese torte and grilled calamari."

Clark tried a little of all three. "Mmm. Delicious."

Lex leaned in and tasted his lips. "Yes, very." Clark's breath caught. He opened his mouth, deepening the kiss, stroking his tongue against Lex's.

The rest of the meal passed much this way, a back-and-forth of eating and foreplay. Clark rubbed Lex's thigh, teasing, his hand inching closer and closer to his crotch, until it finally came to rest there, lightly stroking his cock all through the entree. Lex doubted he'd ever eat braised duck again without getting hard.

When they finished eating, Lex asked, "Would you like to dance?"

Clark shifted uncomfortably. "Um. Well--"

"It's okay if you don't."

"No," he said quickly. "It's not that. I just-- I don't really know how."

"It's not hard. I promise. Really just a matter of standing close and holding on to each other."

"I think I can handle that." Clark's voice was low and throaty, just the way he always sounded after sex.

Heat pooled in Lex's belly. He stood up, held out his hand and led Clark out to the dance floor. There was nothing like having Clark in his arms, the weight of Clark's body against his, soft brush of curls against his cheek, tickle of breath on his neck, the sweet wholesomeness of Clark's scent, soap and warmth and teenage boy.

Clark moved a little awkwardly at first, nervous about doing the wrong thing, but after a couple of songs, he relaxed, began to sway effortlessly in time with Lex, like they'd been dancing together all their lives.

The band played a slow, throbbing ballad, and Lex pulled him even closer, his hands wandering over Clark's back, caressing him everywhere.

"Mmm." Clark laid his head on Lex's shoulder, pressing the occasional kiss to his throat.

It had been a long, long time since Lex had felt even remotely this happy.

"Everyone's staring at us," Clark murmured.

"Are they?" Of course, he knew perfectly well they were. Who could help staring at Clark?" They must be wondering how I got so lucky."

Clark lifted his head to look at him. "I'm the lucky one. Remember what you said that night at the club? That I could do better? I never guessed it could be like this. Never knew it could be so good."

Lex hugged him hard. Frankly, he'd never imagined it could be this good, either. "Clark, I lo--" He stopped himself just in time.

His mouth seemed to want to say things that were against all reason, impossible things, that only a fool would blurt out to a prostitute who was handsomely paid to hold him like this, to kiss his neck and make those soft little sighs that went straight to his cock. Only a fool, and that was one thing Lex had promised himself he'd never be again.

Clark squeezed his shoulder. "Hey. Everything okay?"

Lex made himself relax. "Better than okay." He took Clark's mouth in a kiss that left Clark whimpering, pressing closer, begging for more. Lex obliged, digging his fingers in at his waist, enjoying the sweetness of Clark's lips. He just needed to keep in mind why he'd hired him in the first place, for the pleasure of it. Because pleasure never had the power to hurt you the way love did.

And Clark did please him, so very much. Lex clutched at him and kissed wildly until there was not even the pretense of dancing anymore. When Clark finally pulled back, his eyes were feverish, his cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling with his breath. "Do you want to get out of here?"

"Yes." Lex took his hand and pulled him off the dance floor, heading for the exit.

"Don't we need to pay the bill or something?"

"They know where to send it." His voice was sharp and urgent. All he could think about was getting Clark home, having him naked and eager and under him.

Outside, though, the valet was nowhere to be found.

Lex sighed. "They park the cars in a lot around the corner. Wait here, and I'll go see if I can get it. If the valet comes back, let him know we're ready to go." He gave Clark a quick kiss and headed down the block.

He was almost to the end of it when he heard the screech of tires. He turned around in time to see a car speeding down the street, swerving crazily. As it neared him, he heard the engine gun, and then the car jumped the sidewalk and barreled toward him. He instinctively lifted his arms as if that could somehow protect him from two tons of steel slamming into him. His worst regret was that Clark was going to watch him die.

A strong gust of wind blew up, and then somehow Clark was standing in front of him, even though he'd been too far away to get there so quickly. But there he was, shielding Lex with his body, like some crazy kid who'd watched too much television and mistakenly believed he was as invulnerable as a cartoon character. Now they were both going to die, and that knowledge cut Lex with the worst kind of grief.

He held his breath and braced himself for impact, but it never came. The car plowed into Clark and bounced off him. The force knocked them down, but other than getting a little dirty, they were both fine. The car careened back onto the street and sped away.

Clark scrambled to his feet and helped Lex up. "Oh, my God. Lex. Are you okay?" He frantically ran his hands over Lex's body, checking for injuries.

"I'm all right. But how--" He clutched Clark's arm. "What the hell just happened?"

Clark's eyes slid away from him. "Must have swerved at the last minute."

"I saw it hit you."

"If it had, we'd both be dead," Clark mumbled.

Lex leaned in closer, lowered his voice, urgently. "You can tell me, Clark. I know you have secrets. That you're special. I've always realized that, although until tonight I never guessed--" He gripped his arm. "You have to know I'd never let anything happen to you."

Clark sighed heavily. "We just got lucky, Lex. That's all. Why can't you just accept that and be grateful?"

"Because I don't believe in luck. I believe in what I can see. What I know. In facts. In reasonable explanations."

"Then just know that I'd never let anything happen to you and leave it at that, okay?" He crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw set, eyes fierce with determination.

A boy who could move faster than anyone could see, effortlessly toss aside an oncoming car, and every instinct Lex had clamored to find out how this was possible. But it was clear Clark didn't trust him enough or was too afraid or had some other reason not to tell him. Battering him with questions would only alienate him.

He let out his breath. "Fine. Let's just go get the car." He started to walk, anger making his shoulders stiff. He'd do anything to protect Clark, and the fact that Clark didn't seem to recognize that filled him with an unaccountable fury.

Clark fell in beside him, and they walked in silence. It took a moment for Lex to register that Clark had purposefully maneuvered so that he was on the outside of the sidewalk, next to the street, putting himself between Lex and any other possible danger. All Lex's anger instantly dissolved. No matter how Clark had managed it, he had just saved his life, and Lex was indeed very, very grateful for that.

He reached for Clark's hand, and Clark held on to him fiercely. His face was pale, his expression grim, and it gave Lex a sudden, sharp ache in his chest. Clark had truly been scared for him.

"It's okay," he said, gently. "I really am fine. Not even a scratch."

Clark slipped an arm around his waist and pulled him tightly to his side. He pressed a frantic torrent of relieved kisses to his face. This wasn't anything Lex had come to expect from his lovers, this tenderness, this concern, but it was something he'd sure as hell like to get used to.

At the parking lot, the attendant was inside the office. Lex retrieved his keys and unlocked the passenger door. He caught Clark's arm before he could get in.

"I want to thank you. For what you did back there."

"But I--"

He pressed a finger to Clark's lips. "I'm not asking any questions. I'm just saying thank you." Gratitude was a slow, wet, lingering kiss.

Clark trembled and kissed back, gripping Lex's waist as if he never planned to let go. "You're welcome," he whispered.

It was much more of an acknowledgement than Lex had expected, and he hugged Clark passionately. "Let's go home."

There was a great deal more thanking he wanted to do, and Clark's secrets could wait. At least for now.

It was quiet on the ride home. Lex's mind was buzzing with too many things to make conversation. A car barreling down on them at top speed had bounced off Clark. Bounced. Now that the shock had started to wear off, he could really take that in, consider the implications. The boy sitting next to him was far more special that he'd even guessed, not simply a beautiful kid with a good heart and an unusual talent for pleasure, but apparently...superhuman.

This wasn't the only revelation of the evening, of course. There was Clark's reaction after the fact, how he shook with relief once he knew Lex was all right, the way he'd put himself between Lex and further danger. Even Lex couldn't write that off as business as usual. The fact was that there had been more between them than a simple financial transaction for some time, maybe even from the beginning, and there was no ignoring that now.

He glanced over at Clark, who was hunched in his seat, shoulders curled in. "Hey." He rested his hand on Clark's leg. "You okay?"

Clark nodded, not very convincingly. "I'm just-- you know, thinking about what happened back there." His voice dropped, got rougher. "You could have died."

"But I didn't. Because you were there." He rubbed his hand in comforting circles. "I'm lucky to have you."

"I never want anything to happen to you." Clark sounded scared and young, and it gave Lex a sharp ache in his chest.

He slid his arm around him, pulling him close, and Clark rested his head on his shoulder. "Everything's going to be fine," Lex said, pressing a kiss to his head. "I promise."

"Do you think maybe--" Clark hesitated. "I know you've had something going on at work lately, and that car seemed to head right for you. Maybe it wasn't an accident?"

Lex kept his voice even, unconcerned. He didn't want Clark any more involved in this than he already was. "There are more drunk driving accidents in this part of town than anywhere else. I'm sure someone just had one too many and wasn't smart enough to call a cab."

"You think?"

"What else could it be? Corporate in-fighting may get ugly at times, but it hardly leads to homicide."

This wasn't technically a lie. He hadn't said it never ended in murder.

Clark let out his breath. "Thank God."

They pulled up to their building, and Lex turned the keys over to the valet. He kept his arm around Clark as they headed inside, held him close as they took the elevator upstairs. Even in the apartment, he didn't really want to let go. Only the need to reassure Clark propelled him through the motions of hanging up his coat, sorting through the mail, all the things he usually did, as if this were any other evening and he wasn't damned lucky to be alive.

They headed into the living room, and he made a beeline for the bar. Appearing calm wasn't the easiest thing in the world when the only reason he wasn't splattered all over a city street was because his boyfriend was apparently made of steel. Lex needed this drink, he really did, and poured himself a few extra fingers of Scotch for good measure.

The thing was: you never got used to people trying to kill you, no matter how many times it happened.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Clark hovered by the sofa, shifting his weight awkwardly, his expression both concerned and uncertain.

There were moments in life that felt like waking up, like some light had been switched on, and everything was suddenly clear. This was one of those moments for Lex. He watched Clark watching him, and it struck him that he finally had exactly what he wanted, right here in his own living room, his heart's desire, all his for the taking. How many people could ever say that? And still, he'd been holding back, trying to deny the obvious, even to himself, insisting on calling this by some other name. Too afraid to admit that he--

The word twisted on his tongue. He'd promised himself never to say it again, to anyone, and he still wasn't ready. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced it back. The declaration would have to wait, but there were other things he could offer. Sometimes he expressed himself better with actions than words anyway.

"Tell me something," he said to Clark.

Clark sighed tiredly, misunderstanding. "I've already told you everything I can, Lex."

"Not about that." He closed the distance between them, leaned in, whispered into Clark's ear. "What I want to know is...would you like to fuck me?" A shudder jolted Clark, and Lex had to smile. "I take that's a yes?"

"God." Even Clark's voice was shaking. He held Lex's face in his hands and poured all his concern and relief and need into a single, shattering kiss.

Then Lex was shaking, too. "Please." Another word he didn't like to say, but apparently, the old rules meant nothing when it came to Clark.

Clark backed him up against the wall and frantically pulled at his clothes, hands trembling so much that Lex had to help him.

"I want you so much," Clark said, urgently.

"Then have me. Anything you want."

Clark's answer was a flurry of hot, wet kisses, before sinking to his knees and taking Lex's cock deep into his throat.

"Fuck!" His shout split the apartment's stillness and echoed off the walls.

This was the magic men at the club had gladly paid a hundred dollars a shot for, and even Lex's control, something he prided himself on, wasn't going to keep him from exploding like an over-anxious teenager if this went on much longer. "Stop. I'm going to--"

Apparently, this was Clark's plan, though, because he didn't stop. He did something with his tongue that made Lex's eyes roll back in his head, had him arching his back, digging his fingers into the plaster. There was a blinding flash in his head, and then his entire body shook with his release.

He panted, light-headed from coming so hard so fast. His knees started to buckle, and his fingers scrabbled at the wall. If Clark weren't holding him up, he would have fallen.

Clark realized this, of course, and his smile was just a little bit smug. "You said anything I want." He rubbed his hand in circles over Lex's hip. "I want to make you forget your own name."

Clark's eyes glittered with amusement and something wilder, more heated. It was hard to believe this was the same boy who'd looked so young and scared only a short time ago. Now he seemed made of confidence, so certain of what he wanted. He stood up and kissed Lex and took him by the hand. "Come on."

They made it just inside the bedroom before Clark set on him, wrapping himself around Lex like a second skin, as if he was trying to get inside, make their bones meet. Lex was on fire, like his skin would burn anything it touched, and he was already starting to get hard again, too soon, hurting in the best possible way.

It had been a long time since he'd allowed himself to have this. During the post-Helen meltdown, he'd woken up too many mornings with the evidence that someone had been inside him, but no actual memory of it happening or who it might have been. His grief was hard and jagged, a sharp edge he'd cut himself on again and again. It took months to finally pull himself together, to swear off all the stupid shit he'd been doing to try to forget, getting drunk and getting high and being fucked by faceless strangers. He'd grasped onto his old friend control like it was the only thing he could trust, the one thing that might save him.

Sex after that had been measured, calculated, most times bought and paid for, just to keep the lines perfectly clear. He'd always been on top, in every sense, and he'd like it that way.

Until this. Until Clark.

"Hey." Clark sensed his distraction and pulled back. "Are you sure about this?" His voice was soft with concern. "I don't want to do anything you don't want."

Lex shook his head. "You won't. You can't." It was funny how sure he was about that, and Clark's sweet answering smile only strengthened his conviction.

They fell into bed together, Clark draped over him. Lex wanted so much, and there was no such thing as control anymore. But that was all right, because this wasn't Helen or Desiree or a faceless stranger. This was Clark.

Clark was pale and stark in the dim light, the tendons of his neck standing out in sharp relief, his cock thick and swollen with blood, slick against Lex's thigh. "I want--"

"Yes," Lex hissed. "Anything. I trust you."

Clark parted his legs and moved between them, slid his hands under Lex's hips, lifting them. "What you did to me our first time-- I want to do that."

"You don't have to-- Fuck!" Hot tongue on sensitive flesh, and all reason, all words were blotted out of his mind. Hell, he didn't remember his own name.

Clark turned him inside out, creatively, adding fingers alongside his tongue, scraping his teeth against the delicate skin behind his balls, making the blood boil in his veins, making him scream.

"God!" Lex panted, muscles shaking like jelly. "If you don't stop, I'm going to come." Clark hummed contentedly, but Lex knew his own limits. There wasn't going to be a third round. "Please. I want-- Inside me."

Clark reluctantly stopped. Lex reached out for the bedside drawer, fumbled to get the lube and handed it to Clark. "Use a lot. It's been a while."

Clark eased him onto his side, stretched out beside him, kissed his shoulder and whispered soft, sweet nonsense as he got him ready. Clark's talented tongue had already undone him, and now his sensitive, twisting fingers were touching that place inside him that sent electric sparks up and down his spine, making him burn all over.

"Now!" he said, voice strained with need. Clark pulled his fingers away, and Lex felt the slick trail of his cock against his ass. "Get the condoms."

Clark went still. "We don't need that." Lex started to argue, but Clark smoothed a hand over his hip. "Trust me, Lex. I can't give you anything, and you can't hurt me." His voice was quiet, serious, and Lex knew he was being given something, some small part of Clark's truth.

He nodded, giving permission, and Clark curved around him, pressed against him, slowly, surely, until Lex was breached, panting hard, sweat running down his back. He'd forgotten this, how much it hurt, the sheer physical shock of it. Clark rubbed his belly and made coaxing noises, and Lex began to grow accustomed to the sensations, the burning and the fullness and the dull ache in his stomach because he was still so hard and needed to come so badly.

His body relented and opened, and Clark pressed forward, little by little. When he was all the way inside, he started to move, setting a rhythm, slowly at first, gradually faster, making Lex cry out with every stroke, because he'd forgotten this too, the bone-melting, nerve-searing ecstasy of having someone inside him.

Clark's face was hot against his neck. "God! You feel so good. You're so amazing. Never thought it could be this good."

One more first time he'd given Clark, and, really, it was a first for him, too. All the sex he'd had, and he couldn't remember another time when it was someone he loved fucking him.

Clark reached around and stroked his cock, and Lex moaned and pushed back hard, taking Clark as deep inside him as he could.

"Please!" His balls were tight against his body, and his stomach hurt. He needed to come, needed it now.

Clark thrust faster, jerked Lex's cock harder. "I love you," he murmured in Lex ear, his voice rough with passion. "Fucking love you, Lex. God. I love you so much."

It was the spark that sent him up in flames. He spasmed around Clark's cock, went off in his hand, only dimly aware of Clark climaxing inside him. There was a dull roar in his ears. His vision started to go dark like he might pass out, and he couldn't breathe. The best sex always made you just a little bit afraid that you might actually die from it.

Clark's breath was heavy and warm against his shoulder, his arm slung possessively over Lex's hip. He pressed a kiss to Lex's cheek and gently pulled out. Lex sucked in a deep breath. His ass was sore, well-used, and he liked the feeling, liked knowing that Clark was the cause of it.

He turned in Clark's arms, because he wanted to see his face. Clark had the startled, satisfied look of first times, like someone had just let him in on the best, most important secret in the world. Lex had to grin, and Clark did, too.

Lex kissed him. "It's official. I don't remember my name."

Clark laughed, his face bright and pleased. "Me either."

Lex pulled him closer, pressed a kiss to his forehead. If all those other attempts on his life had led to moments like this, he would have been a much, much happier man. Clark snuggled against him, and Lex closed his eyes, sated and drowsy.

"I meant it, you know," he heard Clark whisper as he was falling asleep. "I really do love you."

Not surprisingly, Lex was late to work the next day. He'd woken up to soft kisses on his face, opened his eyes to find Clark leaning over him, wide-awake and hungry. They'd made love in the shower. Clark had blown him and fucked him again, and it would probably be several days before he could sit down without feeling it. But who cared? A little soreness was nothing when he had everything he wanted.

He was whistling as he got off the elevator, but stopped short when he saw Phelan lounging in a chair in the reception area.

"Someone got lucky last night." Phelan's smirk was knowing and filthy, and Lex had the urge to wipe it off his face, preferably with violence.

"This way," he said curtly, heading down the corridor to his office.

He closed the door behind them, motioned Phelan to a chair and sat down at his desk.

"Okay. Show me what you've got."

Phelan's expression grew serious as he got down to business. He pulled out a small notebook. "The subject's name is Clark Jerome Kent, adopted son of Martha and Jonathan Kent. They own and operate a small farm in Smallville, KS."

"Smallville?"

"Yeah. That mean something to you?"

"Nothing. Just--" He waved his hand. "Go on." Of course, Clark would be from the one place Lex most wanted to forget.

"The subject disappeared approximately four months ago. He's seventeen years old, previously enrolled in Smallville High School." Phelan's voice was even, professional, but his mouth turned up at the corner in a mocking smile.

Lex stared him down, keeping his own face blank, refusing to give any ground, but, God, seventeen. Of course, he'd known Clark was young. He'd been careful never to ask exactly how young, in case he ever needed to plead ignorance. Still, the way Clark carried himself, smiled his way through society functions like a veteran, all the things they'd done together in bed...how could that possibly have come from a junior in high school?

He cleared his throat. "Why'd he take off?"

"That's not completely clear. There was an accident, as you suggested. Family truck flipped over. The boy's mother was pregnant, lost the baby."

"Was Clark driving?"

Phelan shook his head. "His father. There was also--" He frowned at his notes.

"What?"

"Details are somewhat sketchy, but it seems the truck wreck was caused by some kind of explosion. It left behind a pretty good-sized crater on the farm."

"How did that happen?"

"No one seems to know. Underground gas pipe leak possibly. Or farm chemicals improperly stored. There was some gossip that maybe they were making drugs out there. Doesn't seem too credible, though. If they were drug kingpins, I doubt they'd be facing foreclose."

"They're going to lose the farm?"

Phelan nodded. "A matter of months at the most." Phelan opened his briefcase and pulled out a large envelope. "I have a few things here you might want to see." He took out a book, flipped it open and held it out to Lex.

There was Clark, wide-eyed and smiling in his yearbook picture. Lex's throat closed up. Phelan smiled, enjoying himself a great deal, and Lex had never hated anyone more.

"Then there's this." Phelan laid a flyer on the desk, handmade, the same picture of Clark and a desperate plea to call if anyone had seen him. "His parents put these up all over the county."

"That's enough," Lex snapped, pushing the flyer away.

Phelan shrugged. "Hey, you wanted me to be thorough." He tucked the yearbook and leaflet back into the envelope and sat it on Lex's desk. "I'll leave this for you. There's a full report, some background on the parents, copies of the kid's report cards, that kind of thing." Phelan smiled like a snake.

Lex glared coldly. "We're finished here. You'll get your check later today."

"That's fine." Phelan got to his feet. "You know, there is one thing I found kind of odd."

"Oh, yeah?"

Phelan nodded. "The parents never filed a missing person's report. A seventeen year old kid, never been in trouble, so why didn't they go to the police for help?"

"Maybe they've just had bad experiences with the police. Not all officers are fine, upstanding citizens, from what I hear. " He gave Phelan a small, tight smile.

Phelan laughed. "Hey, that could be it." He winked. "Good doing business with you, Lex. As always."

Lex let out his breath once Phelan was gone. There were so many things racing through his head. Could Clark have had something to do with the mysterious explosion on the farm? Did he have other abilities, potentially dangerous ones, that Lex hadn't seen yet? He had no doubt that Clark's parents had avoided the police to try to protect his secrets. But what did Phelan really know about it? Was he just trying to fuck with Lex's head as usual? Or did he have real suspicions about Clark? How was that even possible when Clark had been in Metropolis the whole time Phelan was conducting the investigation?

He pulled everything out of the envelope and laid it on his desk. There were surveillance photos of the farm, shots of a middle-aged couple, Clark's parents. They looked like decent, hard-working people, and Lex knew they must be sick with worry, not knowing where Clark was, if he was all right.

He stared at the flyer. He could feel the desperation in the handwritten lettering: "Reward offered. Please call!" Phelan had said they didn't have any money, that their farm was on the line. And yet, they were obviously willing to do whatever it took to get their boy back. Their seventeen-year-old son whom Lex had had sex with only a few hours ago.

Could he really let them go on wondering whether Clark was dead or alive?

He pushed the question away with a vicious effort of will, shoved everything back into the envelope and tossed it into a desk drawer. The Kents had their chance. Clark had left for some reason, and he was Lex's now. Lex would do a much better job of taking care of him. He'd give Clark everything, protect him...love him.

He forced himself to concentrate on other matters. He moved ahead with a deal to acquire a Japanese R&D firm, approved new staff positions to help deal with the upsurge in business, and most importantly, put in a call to Mason Tucker, his security consultant, to report the attempt on his life.

Tucker was grave on the other end of the line. "That's a significant escalation."

"I certainly thought so," Lex said dryly.

"We'll accelerate our plans and beef up your personal security."

"I don't need more security. I just need to know who the hell is doing this."

He hung up, and the urge to open the drawer and take out the envelope was nearly overpowering. The image of Clark in his high school yearbook lingered in his mind's eye, along with that frantic "please call!" from the flyer.

Fuck. Why had he chosen now to develop a conscience?

He sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. Of course, he couldn't just return Clark to his family, even if he was that selfless. Only Clark could decide if he wanted to go back to them. Now that Lex knew the truth, though, he felt a responsibility to at least pose the question. Even if Clark leaving him was the last thing in the world he ever wanted.

He buzzed his assistant. "I need you to gather some materials for me."

Lex sighed. Frankly, having a conscience sucked. He had no idea what he was going to say to Clark. He'd just have to find some way to sound him out and let Clark's reactions be his guide. Maybe he'd end up showing him the flyer his parents made. Or maybe they'd talk about their future together. But no matter which way it went, he'd make sure that Clark had a good life, just as he deserved.

He found Clark in the kitchen when he got home, cooking, which was a new thing. He leaned against the doorframe and watched with amusement as Clark emptied a rather daunting amount of cayenne pepper into the skillet.

"I didn't realize this was another of your talents."

Clark turned and smiled. "I hope you like tacos."

"It looks very-- authentic."

He crossed the kitchen and gave Clark a kiss.

Clark smiled and kissed him back. "Yeah, I might have gone a little overboard with the spices. Sorry about that."

"I'm sure I'm going to love it." He held onto Clark like someone was trying to take him away. He couldn't help being aware that this might be their last evening together.

Clark rubbed his back. "Hey. Everything okay?"

Lex nodded and made himself let go. "Fine. Is it almost time to eat? I'm starving."

"Almost." Clark gave him another long look of concern before going back to his cooking.

Lex set the table, and they sat down to dinner together. Clark talked about his day. He and Mitzi had gone to the museum of modern art, but Lex was too distracted to really listen. He kept thinking ahead, imaging the conversation they were going to have, what it would mean to their relationship, drinking Clark in, as if this were his last chance, trying to memorize every detail.

After they finished, they put the dishes in the dishwasher and cleaned up the kitchen.

"Hey." Clark touched him lightly on the arm. "Are you sure nothing's wrong?"

Lex sighed. "There is something-- Let's go sit down and talk, okay?"

He led Clark into the living room, and they settled onto the sofa. Lex's briefcase was on the coffee table, ready.

He cleared his throat. "I know you don't like discussing your past, and I respect that. But I have something I need to ask, and it's important."

Clark met his eyes nervously. "What? And why is it so important?"

"I just-- I need to know-- Are you sure this is where you want to be?"

Clark recoiled, as if he'd been hit. "Are you saying-- You don't want-- Did I do something wrong?"

"No! That's not what I'm saying. And of course you didn't do anything wrong. It's just--" He let out his breath. "What about your family, Clark? Do you ever think about going home to them?"

Clark shook his head decisively. "No."

"They have to be worried."

"I can take care of myself. They know that."

"Clark."

"Look, Lex, they don't want me. Okay?" His voice was sharp, but there was a deep hurt in his eyes.

Lex put his arm around him. "I know that's not true."

"You didn't see the look on my father's face. He made things pretty clear."

"Clark, I don't know what happened, but people get angry sometimes. They say things they don't really mean. But you're his son and--"

"No, I'm not. Not really. And--" He stared down at the floor. "My mom was pregnant, and the baby died. Because of me. Even if they did forgive me-- I can't go back there, Lex. I can't face them. Ever."

Clark's expression was pleading, and Lex couldn't look away. He'd tried to do the right thing. He really had. He felt for the Kents. Anyone would. But the look on Clark's face-- a million desperate flyers could never be a match for that.

"Then stay here," he said. "With me."

Clark's face lit up. "Really?"

"Of course. I just-- I want to do what's best for you."

"You're what's best for me." Clark threw his arms around Lex's neck and held on tightly. "I love you so much."

Lex wanted to say it back, but the words just wouldn't come. So he rubbed Clark's back and hoped he'd somehow understand everything he couldn't put into words.

Clark settled into the curve of his arm, and Lex pressed a kiss to his temple. "Hey, I've got something for you." He leaned forward, opened his briefcase, took out the envelope his assistant had put together for him. "Here."

Clark opened it and looked puzzled. "A Met U catalogue?"

"I thought you might want to start considering college. Met U is my alma mater. Well, after my somewhat colorful career at Princeton came to a premature end."

Clark looked down at the catalogue and back up at Lex. "That's so nice of you. I always wanted--" There was a light, hopeful look on his face for a moment, but then he shook his head. "I can't. Thanks, though. I really appreciate the thought."

"Hey." He squeezed Clark's shoulder. "Of course, you can. I know you're smart. I know you're interested." Clark started to say something, and Lex held up his hand. "Don't try to tell me you're not. I don't believe it. Whatever problems you're imagining, we'll find a way around them."

Clark wouldn't look at him. "I didn't finish high school."

"You can get your GED. Look at the rest of the stuff I got you. There's a schedule for the test and a study guide." His voice was very serious. "You can do anything you want. Be anyone you want to be."

"I want to be with you," Clark said, softly.

"A career and a personal life aren't mutually exclusive."

"You mean--" He blinked. "I could go to school and we would be--"

Lex kissed him. "That's exactly what I mean."

But Clark's expression closed up again, not at all what Lex had expected.

"What?"

Clark shook his head. "Nothing. It just-- It wouldn't work out."

"Clark."

He sighed. "My school records...I can't use my real name. I don't want my parents to find me."

"That's not a problem. You just do the studying and pass the test. I'll take care of the rest."

"But how--"

"Clark, I have a lot of influence in this town, and using it to help you get the education you deserve will probably be the noblest thing I ever do with it. So there's nothing to worry about. Okay?"

Clark looked torn for a moment, but then broke into a luminous smile and gave Lex a big hug. "Thank you."

Lex closed his eyes and held on tight. "I just want you to have a good life."

Clark whispered against his cheek like a kiss, "I already do."

There was a reason why stories always ended with a hasty "happily ever after," Lex was convinced. The details were just so hard to picture, the everyday reality so casually glossed over in the overly simple notion of "the rest of our lives together." To be honest, Lex had no idea what to expect now that he and Clark had made it clear that this was a relationship, not business. He had no way of knowing if it was normal that he found such fierce joy in such small things, standing side-by-side with Clark in the mornings as they brushed their teeth, knowing how Clark liked his coffee (dark and sweet) and what his favorite cereal was (Captain Crunch), every kiss goodbye, good morning, goodnight, hello.

He'd never gotten to this point in any of his relationships before. By now, the other person had usually tried to poison or stab him. He and Clark, on the other hand, had settled with almost startling ease into domestic tranquility. Clark had started his college prep classes and still saw a good deal of Mitzi, who was helping him study in between tennis dates and bridge games.

"I'm not supposed to let anyone know how good she is at math," Clark had told him with a smile. "She says it would ruin her reputation as a frivolous socialite."

In the evenings, they went out, or more usually, stayed in, just the two of them. Many nights, they went to bed early. Making love felt different now. Before, there had always been a frantic edge to it, Lex too aware that it could all end at any time, that Clark could get tired of their arrangement and take off and Lex might never see him again. It always made him just a little bit desperate during sex. Now there was a sense of forever, and Lex could relax, luxuriate in every touch, secure that everything he had with Clark would still be there tomorrow.

Life had never been better, almost too good, and sometimes Lex had trouble letting himself trust it. In the past, anytime he'd felt comfortable, it had merely been the deceptive calm before some new, horrific storm. So he couldn't help keeping a wary eye out, on the watch for whatever hard note of reality would bring him plummeting back to earth.

It arrived, not surprisingly, in the form of his father, who showed up unannounced one Saturday morning.

"Dad. What brings you by so early?" Lex asked, as he let him in.

"This. Naturally." He tossed Lex a copy of the Planet, open to a picture of Lex and Clark at a recent fundraising event.

"You want to make a donation? That's very generous of you."

"I'm here to put a stop to it."

Lex arched an eyebrow. "The new children's hospital? Won't that be bad for your image?"

"Don't be flippant, Lex. You're not half as amusing as you like to think. You know perfectly well what I mean."

"I do." Lex strolled over to the table where breakfast was set up. "Juice?" He poured himself a glass and held up the pitcher.

"No. Now let's hear what you have to say for yourself."

Lex shrugged. "Nothing." He took a leisurely sip. "I don't owe you any explanations for how I lead my life."

Clark came striding down the hall, backpack on his shoulder. "Hey, Lex, I'm getting ready to take off--" He stopped, startled to see Lionel. "Sorry. I didn't realize you had company."

"I don't. My father's not staying."

Lionel shot him an irritated look. Clark moved closer to Lex, as if to shield him or perhaps simply to offer moral support. Lex hadn't told him everything, but he knew enough to realize this wasn't a pleasant family visit. "Do you want me to-- I could stay."

"No, Clark. Everything's fine. Really. And you don't want to fall behind."

Clark hesitated. "I don't mind."

"And I appreciate that. But it's really not necessary."

"If you're sure?" He still sounded rather reluctant.

Lex wondered, as he often did, how he'd gotten lucky enough to have someone like Clark in his life. He kissed him lightly on the lips. "I'm sure. Have a good class."

"Thanks." Clark kissed him back. "I'll see you later." He nodded coolly in Lionel's direction. "Mr. Luthor."

Lionel smiled dryly. "Young man."

Clark gave Lex one last uncertain look before heading off.

"How sweet," Lionel said, once he was gone. "To have your little lapdog jumping to your defense."

Lex ignored the insult. "I don't expect you to understand the normal concern people have for one another when they're in a relationship." He sat down on the sofa and picked up the pile of contracts he'd been going through before his father arrived. "Are we finished here?"

Lionel's face darkened. "No. And we won't be finished until you extricate yourself from this unfortunate liaison." His voice went softer, more coaxing. "Son, surely you can see this is the fastest way to destroy everything you've worked so hard for."

"Yes, well, the LexCorp stock price would beg to differ."

"You think the novelty won't wear off? Trust me. Soon enough, people are going to grow tired of seeing you gallivanting all over town with your boyfriend on your arm. Business is inherently conservative. You know that. What investors want to see is stability. That means a wife and children. If you must--" He waved his hand in the air. "Then do it discreetly. Not out in public where everyone can see."

"Because, of course, that approach worked so well in your marriage."

"Whatever you may think, your mother and I had an understanding. She enjoyed her position in society, and if I occasionally turned elsewhere for companionship, she took it in stride. It was an arrangement that worked quite well. For both of us."

"Funny. If it suited Mom so well, then why did I hear her crying in her room all those evenings when you were out with one of your--" He voice went thick with sarcasm. "Companions?"

"Haven't you outgrown these petulant recriminations by now?" He sighed. "Fine. I admit I was not a perfect husband. But I loved your mother, and I did the best I could. You're not a child anymore, and I've had enough of your petty rebellions. You wanted to get my attention with this inappropriate relationship? Well, you have it. Now it's time to stop making a spectacle of yourself with your little boytoy."

Lex set his jaw angrily. "First of all, Dad." He put all the bitterness he felt into the word. "Not everything is about you, believe it or not. And second, insulting Clark is the fastest way to get thrown out of here. Something you should bear in mind."

His father gave him a long appraising look. "That's quite a sense of loyalty you have toward your young paramour. I wonder, though, how much of it do you think is reciprocated?"

Lex's face went hot. "You don't know anything about him. So don't even dare try to malign him."

"I know he's very young. And quite good-looking. I can see that he's gotten very comfortable here. But then--" He swept out his arm. "This is the life, isn't it? And all he has to do for this luxury is--" He smiled in a way that made Lex's skin crawl. "Take care of your-- needs, shall we say? Not a bad deal, really." He moved closer, his voice taking on a confidential tone. "But who's taking care of his needs? Did you ever consider that? A vigorous young man like him. Do you really think the obligatory sex he has with you is enough to satisfy him? I'm sure he has offers all the time. Temptations. Do you honestly believe he's sitting here alone all day doing nothing but-- studying?"

Rage burned through him, but his voice was glacial. "Get out."

His father's smile was sly and satisfied. Even though Lex had seen it many times before, it still pushed every last button he had. Only the knowledge that his father would take lashing out as an even greater sign of victory helped him rein in his temper.

"It is hard to hear the truth, isn't it, son?" his father smirked, knowing perfectly well that Lex wanted nothing more than to hit him. "Well, I have to be off now." He sauntered to the door. "Give my regards to-- Clark, was it?" Another devious smile, and he was gone.

Lex paced the room angrily long after he'd left. If he still lived alone, he would have worked off some of his excess fury trashing the place. But he didn't want Clark coming home to a mess, asking questions he'd rather not answer, so he managed to contain himself. Leave it to his father, though, to take the best thing that had ever happened to him and twist it into something unrecognizably ugly. The man was practically an evil genius at killing off hope, but this time, Lex wasn't going to let him get inside his head and ruin his happiness.

He repeated this, out loud, like a mantra, as he treaded an agitated circuit around the living room. Finally, he just needed to do something, and he knew the perfect "fuck you" gesture. He picked up the phone and put in the call he'd been meaning to make to his lawyer for some time now.

"Randolph, I need to change my will."

"Lex?"

"Yes," he said impatiently. "I need you to get this down."

"Look, Lex, you caught me on the golf course. Do you think it could possibly wait until--"

"No. It can't. I have some very important provisions to make."

The near hit-and-run had started Lex thinking about what would become of Clark if anything ever happened to him. The prospect of him going back to his old life, turning tricks in some grimy alleyway, made Lex crazy. Then, too, there was the issue of what they'd do if anyone ever found out about Clark's secrets. He'd developed action plans for every foreseeable contingency, even secured forged papers to give them both new identities if it ever came to that. Now all he had to do was arrange this one last thing, and Clark's future would be secure.

Randolph sighed. "Fine. I'll take down what I can, but I won't be able to draw up the papers until Monday."

"Good. I want to get the ball rolling." He rattled off the new terms of his will.

There was silence on the other end of the phone. "You're sure about this?"

"Positive. Put it together and send it over. I want to sign it as soon as possible."

"Okay. If that's really what you want."

"It is. Watch out for the sand trap on the ninth hole."

"Yes, well, unfortunately I've already bogeyed it. I'll talk to you on Monday."

Lex hung up, took a deep breath and felt much better. Screw his father, anyway. For once in his life, he'd found someone he could actually trust, and he was going to love him and protect him and there was nothing his father could do about it.

By the time Clark came home, he was calm again. He brushed aside questions about his morning and got Clark to tell him about class instead. The way his face lit up when he talked about what he'd learned was the best antidote to his father's poison.

Lex made a concerted effort to put everything his father said completely out of mind, but knowledge, unfortunately, was an apple of ruin. Suddenly, he was all too aware of the attention other people paid to Clark. It was different somehow than it had been before when he'd taken a gloating pride in it. Now it felt as if a veil had been torn away, and he could really see. Everywhere they went, everywhere he looked, there was someone staring at Clark, greedy calculation lighting up their eyes. Doubt was the mental equivalent of bamboo under the fingernails, a constant, insidious torment. What were all those horny bastards doing to Clark in their fantasies? And could Clark possibly be thinking about them in return?

Occasionally during one of these mental torture sessions, he'd catch Clark watching him, frowning with concern. Sometimes he'd even come right out and ask if everything was okay. And Lex always said it was. Because he knew it was unfair, and he thought he could handle it. He really did.

At work, he tried to concentrate on business, tried not to obsess over imaginary personal problems. He reviewed new contracts, met with his management team to discuss expanding their supply chain and held his weekly conference call with the Tokyo office to catch up on developments in the Asian market. Still, his thoughts kept drifting back to Clark, wondering what he was doing, and despite his best efforts, who he was doing it with.

He made it to lunchtime without calling to check on him, but then, he just couldn't keep himself from reaching for the phone. Maybe if he heard Clark's voice, he could get rid of this terrible sense of unease. He started to dial, but then stopped. His father's voice unspooled in his head. Do you really think he's sitting alone all day doing nothing but studying? It occurred to Lex that he could just pop over to the apartment, see for himself, put his unfounded doubts to rest for good. He called downstairs and ordered his car. Twenty minutes later, he was back at the penthouse.

He got off the elevator, went inside and stopped in his tracks. Soft sounds of talking and laughter floated out of the living room. One of the voices was Clark's; the other he didn't recognize. But it was male, and that was enough to freeze Lex there. He has offers all the time. Temptations. Do you really think the obligatory sex he has with you is enough to satisfy him? No doubt, this was something completely harmless. Lex knew that, but his stomach just went on churning anyway. He set his briefcase down and went to see.

Clark was sitting on the floor with his back against the sofa, legs stretched out in front of him, schoolbook open on his lap. Another boy about his age, maybe a year or two older, was casually sprawled beside him. He had longish blonde hair, messy in the way that actually took hours of careful attention to achieve, big blue eyes and cheekbones so sharp they looked like they could cut you. He wore tight black jeans and a well-washed white shirt that hugged his body, open to the third button, hardly a casual outfit. Clark might believe this was all perfectly platonic, but Lex could plainly see this guy had a lot more on his mind than studying.

"Which amendment forbids unreasonable searches and seizures?" the blonde boy quizzed Clark.

"The fourth." Clark then asked, "What Supreme Court decision outlawed separate but equal public facilities?"

"Uh--" The blonde boy frowned, stalled by the question. Clearly, he wasn't as bright as Clark.

"I think the answer you're looking for is Brown versus the Board of Education of Topeka, Kansas."

"Lex." Clark's face lit up, and the flash of triumph Lex felt over the blonde kid was hardly to his credit. "I didn't realize you were coming home for lunch."

Lex shrugged. "Call it a whim."

"This is Brian. He's in my class."

Lex nodded. The blonde kid shifted positions uneasily. "Hey, Clark, maybe I should go?"

"No. Stay. By all means," Lex said, using his gracious host voice even if he really would have liked to kick the hair-gelled interloper out on his ass. "I'm just going to go find something to eat."

He beat a hasty retreat to the kitchen, poured himself a large glass of wine and drank it down. What the hell was he doing anyway? Sneaking up on Clark like this was the army instead of a relationship, and he was some kind of drill sergeant springing a surprise inspection. And what had he found? Clark engaged in the high crime of studying American history. God, he was pathetic. Twenty-four years of being manipulated by his father, and he still hadn't learned anything.

"Brian took off." Clark hovered uncertainly in the doorway.

"He didn't have to do that."

"I think he felt uncomfortable."

Lex stared down at the counter top. "I'm sorry." He meant it, in so many ways.

"Is it not okay for me to have people over? I just-- I want to know where the lines are."

Lex rubbed his hands over his face, feeling suddenly very tired and more than a little ashamed of himself. "Of course, it's okay, Clark. It's your home, too."

Clark moved closer. "Lex, Brian is-- He's just some guy in my class. You know?" He laid his hand on the back of Lex's neck, stroking his thumb in reassuring circles. "Was there some reason you came home today?" Clark's gaze was serious and searching, and Lex could feel it boring into him, unearthing parts of himself that he'd rather didn't see the light of day.

He took a deep breath and put on his sultriest smile. "I was hungry." He launched himself off the counter and onto Clark, kissing like a man who needed much, much more than lunch.

"Lex--"

This might have been a protest, Clark not particularly pleased that Lex was using sex to distract him. Of course, it could also have been a plea for more. That's how Lex chose to interpret it, anyway. He sank his fingers into Clark's hair, tilted his chin to deepen the kiss. Soon enough, Clark was kissing back and rubbing against him. Lex pushed him over to one of the kitchen chairs.

"I told you I was hungry." He dropped to his knees and opened Clark's pants, pressed his face against the white cotton of his briefs and breathed him in. He could feel Clark's pulse racing wildly, could feel the heat of his arousal beneath the fabric. He closed his eyes, savoring that this was his. His.

"Please!" Clark's voice was half-choked and desperate.

Lex eased his briefs over his hips, took his straining erection in his mouth, and it felt more like coming home than anything else ever had. Because Clark belonged with him, and he'd do everything in his power, use every trick he'd picked up from all those people who hadn't mattered, to make sure Clark was satisfied. That this was enough. That he was enough, finally.

"God, Lex!" Clark sounded as if he could barely breathe, and victory surged through Lex. He tongued and teased and cupped Clark's balls lightly in his hand, and then warm salt streamed into his mouth. He swallowed it down and petted Clark's hip through the last of his orgasm.

Clark slumped against the chair, spraddle-legged and slightly dazed, his hair damp along his forehead, bright spots of color in his cheeks. Lex sat back on his heels and admired his handiwork.

"So, um-- can you come home for lunch tomorrow?" Clark asked breathlessly.

Lex grinned. "I'll see about that." He rose up on his knees and kissed him.

"You know what, though?" Clark pressed his face against Lex's neck, his hot breath sending a shudder through Lex's body, making his already hard cock thrum insistently, demanding to be touched. "Now I'm hungry."

He sent Lex sprawling onto his back and slid off the chair onto his knees. He pulled Lex's pants all the way off and knelt between his splayed thighs. Lex moaned at the first, hot touch of Clark's mouth on him. He could just imagine the picture he made, naked from the waist down except for his shoes, splayed out on the kitchen floor. Then Clark did something so dirty and thrilling with his tongue it probably should be illegal, and that put an end to any kind of thought for a long, long time.

Afterwards, Clark let the subject of his impromptu visit drop, and he didn't seem angry, even though Lex felt certain he understood more about the motivation behind it than he let on. That left him feeling rather chastened. He made a strict resolution, no more surprises, unless they were the good kind, and he kept an eye out for ways to make it up to Clark. The annual Metropolis Chamber of Commerce Halloween Carnival seemed like just the thing.

He asked Clark about it the next evening. "So what do you think? Would you like to go?"

"It sounds a little bit like Halloween back home. There was always a haunted house and games and stuff. I'm sure this is a lot fancier, though."

"That's a yes then?"

Clark nodded. "Should be fun." He hesitated. "I just-- I wouldn't have thought it was your kind of thing."

Lex shrugged. "The whole business community will be there."

"Did you go last year?"

"Well, no."

"So this is just for me, huh?"

He looked down at the table. "I just want you to be happy."

"Lex." Clark's voice was firm. "I am happy. Really." He covered Lex's face in soft little kisses. "You just need to believe that and stop worrying."

Lex wasn't sure he knew how to do that, but he didn't say anything. He took Clark's face in his hands and kissed and kissed him, trying to communicate all the things he couldn't trust himself to put into words.

Clark grinned. "I'm still holding you to the carnival, though. 'Cause it really does sound like fun. Are you going to dress up?"

He shook his head. "I'm afraid my days of donning a peg leg and eye patch are over. It's strictly black tie for me."

"Oh." Clark dropped his eyes.

"You sound disappointed. You don't have some pirate fetish I should know about, do you?" Clark turned slightly pink, and Lex's eyes widened with interest. "You do?"

"No!" Clark insisted, delightfully flustered. "It's just-- There was something I kind of wanted you to wear. It's in your closet, and I thought it could be a costume. You know, if you were going to dress up."

Clark looked nervous but determined, and Lex was intrigued. "Show me."

Clark got up, and Lex followed him to their bedroom. Clark went into the closet and searched through the racks of clothes. He found what he was looking for, pulled it out and presented it to Lex, a little shyly.

Lex tilted his head. "Club clothes?" A pair of slim black pants and an obscenely tight fitting silk shirt he hadn't worn since-- well, since he'd found what he was looking for and no longer had any need to go out trolling at discos.

"You had it on. The first time I saw you."

Halloween suddenly seemed much promising than he'd ever thought possible. "And what would I go as if I wore that?"

"A rock star, maybe?"

"Hmm. I don't know if I'm really the rock star type." He took a step into Clark's personal space and could feel the heat radiating off him. "But I could put the outfit on right now, just for you."

"Would you?" He felt the rush of Clark's breath against his skin.

"Sure. If you want me to."

"Yes. Please. I just-- I've always imagined what it would have been like if you'd noticed me that night. If I could have done what I really wanted." He leaned in for a kiss. "I'll go put on some music and maybe we can--"

"No." Clark blinked in confusion. Lex kissed him again, with more heat. "The leather pants you used to wear at the club. Put them on for me. No shirt. Just like you were that night."

"But how--" Clark's eyes were wide and incredulous.

"You think I didn't notice you?" He ran a hand down Clark's chest, flirting with a nipple. "From the first moment you showed up, I never noticed anyone else."

Clark inhaled sharply. "God. Lex."

A quick, almost vicious kiss, and Lex pushed him out of the room. "Go. Change. Put on that music. I'll be right there."

It was hard to skim into the tight black pants when his skin was damp with anticipatory sweat and his cock was already taking an interest, but these were the sacrifices he made for Clark. He couldn't say he felt the same nostalgia for those days of unsatisfied longing back at the club when he could look, but not touch. Still, the knowledge that Clark had fantasized about him then, still did even now, sent a white-hot thrill all through him.

He dressed, hurried to the living room and came to a sudden stop in the doorway. Sound blasted from the speakers, house music with a heavy, throbbing bass line, a CD that must belong to Clark. It definitely wasn't his. Watching Clark move to it, though, made him reassess his taste in music. Clark didn't gyrate or grind. His movements were smoother than that, more fluid, the sensual sway of hips and ass, hands running restlessly over his own skin, eyes closed, the black leather pants that Lex remembered with such fondness riding almost obscenely low on his body, hinting at, but not quite revealing, all the most interesting places.

Clark's eyes popped open when realized Lex was standing there watching him. "Come here." Lex obeyed, giving himself over to the music, pressing so close to Clark that every movement of their bodies was a caress.

They danced that way for several songs, and then Clark spun him around, his chest to Lex's back, arm wound tightly around his waist, the heavy heat of his erection nudging Lex's ass

Lex closed his eyes, leaned back into Clark's embrace. "Is this what you wanted?"

"Yes."

"You miss the club?"

Clark shook his head. "The only thing I've ever regretted is that I never got to dance with you. I love the way you move." Soft lips explored behind his ear, sending a hot shiver down his back, making his cock ache. "You didn't dance that often, but when you did-- It was so intense. Like everything you do."

"If I'd known you were paying so much attention, I would have made my move sooner."

He felt Clark's smile against the side of his face. "No, you wouldn't. You were watching, making sure. You weren't going to rush anything."

"It wasn't like that--"

Clark stroked his hands over his thighs. "It's okay, Lex. I wanted you to be sure. I liked that you had standards. All those other men were so obvious, so desperate. Any piece of ass would do. But you-- You were so cool." He punctuated it with a kiss to his neck. "Elegant." A soft swipe of tongue across his scalp. "Classy." Sweet kiss on the cheek. "Beautiful."

"You're the one who's beautiful, Clark. I wanted you from the first instant I saw you."

"Me too. I wanted you so much. Wanted to know everything about you, what you were thinking, what you wanted. Everybody else there was so-- empty. Nothing on their minds but getting laid. But you were different. You looked like you could conquer the world, and I wanted you to start with me."

It would have sounded like meaningless flattery from anyone else, but this was Clark. And Lex wanted very badly to say something witty or sexy, wanted so much to live up to that picture Clark had of him. But Clark's tongue was in his ear, his cock pressed against his ass like he planned to fuck him right through his clothes, and all he could finally manage was a half-strangled, "Shit!"

"I wanted to be the one. So bad, Lex. You have no idea. I wanted to make you lose some of that control." He slipped his hand down the front of Lex's pants. "I wanted to do this in front of everyone. I wanted them to see. That I was yours, and you'd let me."

"God," he groaned.

Clark tightened his grip on his cock, jerked him harder. "I wanted to make you lose it. Make you come right there, while everyone was watching. So they'd know. That I was the one. The only one."

"Fuck, Clark! Yeah. Yeah. Please!"

He felt the familiar tingling at the base of his cock, the telltale heaviness in his balls, so close to coming. This might have started out as Clark's fantasy, but after tonight it was going to make a frequent appearance in his own dreams. He surged forward into Clark's hand and then back against his cock, grinding his ass, because the only thing that could possibly make this better was if Clark came in his pants, too.

"Yeah. That's it, Lex. I've got you. Just let go. Let go for me."

And he did, eyes squeezed so tightly shut it made the bones of his skull ache, no air in his lungs as he came and came, freefalling, too far gone to even realize Clark had come too until he finally regained his senses long moments later and felt the wetness on the back of his pants.

Clark turned him around and pulled him into his arms. Lex rested his face in the sweet curve of his neck, breathing in salt and warmth and that indefinable something that was all Clark and felt like home. Clark stroked his hands tenderly over his back and brushed soft kisses to his temples. He murmured something that Lex couldn't quite make out at first, but his voice was low and affectionate, and it soothed him, made him feel warm and whole and-- loved, he was startled to realize.

Then he understood what Clark was saying. "Only you, Lex. Only you."

For the Halloween Carnival, the usually elegant and glittering grand ballroom of the Metropolis Hotel had been transformed into someone's not-terribly-historical vision of a medieval dungeon. The lights were low, with candles scattered around the room to give it a moody sense of gloom. Faux spider webs hung from the ceiling, and there was fake dust everywhere. The main attraction, though, were the "torture devices" that giddy partygoers were happily trying out on one another. There were racks and screws, shackles, even an iron maiden, although without the sharp metal spikes for obvious safety reasons. Clearly, whoever had planned the event spent far too much time in Metropolis' sex clubs.

Clark took in the room with wide eyes. "Okay, so this isn't anything like Halloween back home."

Lex smiled. "Frankly, I'm relieved to hear it."

Clark returned the smile. "So what do you want to do?"

"Well, we could make a turn around the room, check out all the sights. There are also games in the rooms across the hall, if we decide we need more wholesome entertainment."

"Wholesome, huh?" Clark pulled him close. "I don't really think that's my favorite kind of fun." He nibbled along Lex's jaw, lined hot, wet kisses down his neck. Lex had a happy vision of the carnival being cut short in favor of a leisurely trip home, giving him plenty of time to fuck Clark in the back seat of the limo. Or maybe Clark would want to fuck him. Either way, it sounded a lot more recreational than apple-bobbing and funnel cakes.

They held hands and made their way slowly through the crowd, stopping to greet Lex's business acquaintances and a surprising number of people who seemed to be friends of Clark's.

"Sorry we missed you last week," one of the Jones brothers called to him.

The investment banking Joneses. The good-looking brother.

"He comes to Mitzi's for lunch sometimes," Clark explained.

Another man waved to him, someone Lex didn't recognize, who could have been a male model, but was probably a corporate lawyer or a management consultant. "Let's set up a game for next week."

"Adam Laighton," Clark told him. "Belongs to the tennis club. We play sometimes."

Suddenly, Lex was having that moment all over again when he'd come home to find that kid Brian salivating all over Clark. Only these weren't just guys in Clark's college prep class. They were wealthy and successful and connected, and they had just as much to offer as Lex did. He instinctively tightened his grip on Clark's hand, so tight in fact that Clark gave him an odd look.

"Are you all right?"

He took a deep breath and made himself loosen his hold a little. "Sure. Fine." He smiled, and it felt like the corners of his mouth were going to crack.

"Hey." Clark cupped his cheek and kissed him until he relaxed. "This is supposed to be fun, remember?" He stroked his thumb lightly in circles.

Lex nodded and pulled Clark into his arms, hugged him hard.

"That's better." He felt Clark's smile against the side of his face.

They finished making the grand tour, and Lex was just about to suggest a round of balloon darts when Bill Taylor came striding up, his face a brighter red than usual.

"What do you think you're trying to pull, Luthor?" he puffed angrily.

Lex regarded him coldly. "Perhaps you could be more specific?"

His eyes glittered. "We were guaranteed 10,000 units. We got 2,500. If you think I won't haul your ass into court--"

"Bill." Lex used his stern voice, the one that made his employees jump. "If you read the contract, you'll see that it calls for distribution by quarter. Next month, you'll get another 2,500, and so on, until the contract is complete."

"Bullshit! My people would never have negotiated that--"

"But they did. If you have a problem with it, I suggest you take it up with them."

"I'm taking it up with you!" He poked a finger into Lex's chest.

Clark stepped toward him. "Don't touch him!"

Taylor narrowed his eyes. "Need your little boyfriend to fight your battles, huh, Luthor? I guess a pansy-ass like you can't take care of himself like a real man."

Clark lunged, and Lex got his arm out just in time to catch him. "Why don't you go find Mitzi and see how she's enjoying the carnival?" Clark looked surprised, even hurt, and Lex squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "We shouldn't both get stuck talking business. Let me handle this, and then we'll go do whatever you want. Okay?"

Clark nodded, and Lex kissed him. "I'll make this quick. I promise."

"Okay. But call me if you need me." He glared at Taylor before heading off.

"Now about those contracts--"

"No," Lex said, his voice like ice. "About this bad habit you've developed of haranguing me at social functions. If there's some question about the terms of our contract, I'm happy to discuss it at the office. But I won't be ambushed at parties because you think it's your best shot to catch me off guard and realign the terms of our agreement in your favor. Because we both know that's what you're trying to do."

"How dare you--"

"Oh, please. How dare you. I don't live with my head in the sand, Bill. I know you've had an unexpected upsurge in demand in South America, and now you're trying to cover your ass by squeezing LexCorp. And it's not going to happen. So if you want to negotiate a rider to our original agreement, call my office on Monday." He started to turn away, but had one more thought. "Oh, and a word to the wise? I wouldn't antagonize Clark if I were you. He could break you in two with his little finger."

He turned his back on Bill Taylor's sputtered curses and walked away. He was really getting sick of this guy's bullshit. Perhaps instead of expanding the contract with his company, it was time to join forces with his competition instead. They'd been testing the waters lately, trying to see if LexCorp might be interested in switching sides. The snide way Bill Taylor had called Clark his "little boyfriend" practically guaranteed it.

That Clark had rushed to his defense, though, gave him a warm glow. He couldn't think of anyone else who'd ever had the least protective instinct toward him. It felt nice. He scanned the room for him. It struck him just how stupid he'd been before, worrying about those other men. He had no reason to doubt Clark. No reason to think--

He froze when he spotted him, stretched out on one of the make-believe racks. Another man, dark-haired, good-looking, sleekly dressed, one of the younger Howell sons if Lex wasn't mistaken, was leaning over him, buckling the straps around his wrists. Howell was saying something, and Clark was smiling up at him. And it looked so-- intimate. Lex couldn't stop staring.

"Your young friend seems to be having a good time." He jumped at the sound of his father's voice.

He didn't answer, hoping against hope this might dissuade his father from further conversation, but Lionel was never so easily put off. He moved closer, lowered his voice, spoke in an insidious whisper next to Lex's ear. "I wonder how many of them have had him. A whore does get around, after all. It could be every man in this room."

Lex, of course, had known that his father would investigate Clark, would find out about his past. He'd even been surprised he hadn't brought it up the other day at the penthouse. So he really should have been expecting this. Only he wasn't, not right now, and after seeing some other man touching Clark, the shock of it was physical, a hard slap to the face.

"Be honest, son. Don't you wonder, too? Wonder if maybe young Henry Howell over there is actually renewing an old business acquaintance?"

Lex flinched, and Lionel smiled like a shark.

"Did you really think I wouldn't find out? After you pulled that little stunt changing your will, of course I did some checking on your Mr.-- Smith, do you call him? Surely you could have come up with something more original than that, son? Or was his nom de plume your young trollop's idea?"

The moment had the same feeling, the same texture as every nightmare he'd ever had. Time seemed to move so slowly, and he could clearly see the danger ahead. But he just couldn't seem to change course, couldn't walk away, couldn't make it stop.

"What are you going to do?" He tried to keep the fear out of his voice, but his father knew him too well. He could find even the least weakness, and his feelings for Clark were a gaping vulnerability.

"What do you think I'm going to do? Get everyone's attention, announce to all of Metropolis society that my son is being made a fool of by a teenaged prostitute? That my heir just made a two-bit whore the ultimate beneficiary of everything I've worked so hard to build?"

Lex felt the blood rush to his face. "Don't call him that!"

Lionel stared, his eyes widening. "Oh, my God. You're really in love with him, aren't you?" He threw his head back and laughed. " First a con artist, then a homicidal maniac and now a male prostitute. You really know how to pick them, don't you, son?"

"Because you're such an expert on love."

His father shrugged. "Maybe not. But I am an expert on public opinion. Look at all these people." He gestured with his arm. "Do you honestly think they don't know the truth about your little slut? That they don't whisper about it behind your back?"

"If you don't shut up--"

"What? You'll hit me? Would that make you feel better? Go right ahead then. It's only natural to blame the messenger. But in your heart, you know I'm right, or it wouldn't bother you so much. You know you can't trust him, just like you couldn't trust Helen or Desiree or Victoria or any of the rest of them. You think I'm only trying to hurt you with what I'm saying, with some of the things I've done in the past, but I'm not. I'm only trying to save you, from them, from your own poor judgment."

He knew he shouldn't listen to a word his father said, and yet he couldn't turn off the ugliness in his head. The afterimage of Clark spread out on the rack kept transforming into a picture of him naked and sprawled in bed, that other man leaning over him, that other man touching him. His grip tightened dangerously on the glass in his hand, and he almost wanted it to break. Physical pain was preferable to this.

"Be honest with yourself, Lex. Don't you have your doubts? Oh, I'm sure he says he loves you. But can a prostitute ever really love his employer? And even if by some stretch, he does actually care for you, do you honestly believe it's in his nature to be faithful? Look around this room. Just think of all the assignations he could be having. All the quick lunch-hour fucks while you're slaving away at LexCorp building that fortune you want to leave to him. How long do you think it's going to be before he decides, just like the others did, that it's easier with you of the picture?"

"Clark would never hurt me."

Lionel raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't you have said the same thing about Helen?"

"Shut the fuck up!"

"I just want you to be on your guard. I would have thought you'd have learned that lesson by now. How many lovers wielding shotguns is it going to take?"

Lex threw back the rest of his Scotch. "Fuck off." He headed off to the bar, intent on getting blindingly drunk, the only thing that could possibly make him feel better.

"Enjoy the party, son," his father called after him cheerfully.

Clark was off the rack now, but still talking to Henry Howell. Lex turned his back, so he didn't have to watch it. When he got to the bar, he asked the bartender for the largest glass he had filled with as much Scotch as it would hold. If it hadn't been gauche, he would have just taken the bottle.

The bartender poured, and Clark turned up at his side.

"Hey, Lex." He frowned when he saw the size of the drink. "Um-- Henry and I were going to go check out the arcade. You want to come?"

"No, thanks. I'm kind of busy right now."

"Is anything the matter?" Clark asked.

The bartender handed him the glass, and he threw back the Scotch. "Give me another," he told the bartender. "What could possibly be wrong, Clark? You don't need to watch over me like a mother hen. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"It's just-- I saw you talking to your father. And now you're--"

"What?" Lex's voice had a nasty edge to it. "What am I doing? Tell me. I'm really curious to know."

"You're drinking too much and acting like an asshole." Beneath the sharp note of anger, there was hurt.

Lex closed his eyes and let out his breath. "I'm sorry." The pounding in his temple felt like a jackhammer. "Go to the arcade with Henry. I'm fine here." He gave Clark a quick kiss. "Have fun."

Clark touched his face. "I'm a little worried about you."

"I'm okay. Everything's okay. Honestly. Go have fun. I want you to enjoy yourself."

"You're sure you'll be all right?"

"I promise."

"Okay. But I won't be long."

Lex ordered two more drinks, found himself a quiet corner and downed them one after the other. His head felt thick, like it was stuffed with cotton wool. The room was starting to spin, and his stomach wasn't quite as steady as it ought to be. All he really wanted right now was to be home, in bed, curled around Clark. He took a deep breath and let it out. God. Clark was right. He was acting like an asshole. If he weren't sulking, he could be with Clark right now, laughing over silly carnival games, or better yet, in the limo on the way back to the penthouse to make love. Anywhere had to be better than holed up in a corner, alone and drunk, feeling sorry for himself.

He ditched the Scotch glasses and took off after Clark, a little unsteady on his feet. He went into several game rooms before he finally found him, and then he really wished he hadn't. Clark and Henry Howell were standing by one of the SkeeBall machines, deep in conversation. Howell was intent on what he was saying, and Clark seemed to hang on every word. The expression on both their faces was soft and tender. It was not how anyone looked when they were having a polite conversation about the Sharks season or the upcoming presidential election.

A scene started to play in Lex's head, a clichd movie of the week moment, but it made the blood pound in his head all the same. Clark and Henry were lying in bed together, naked on rumpled sheets, tangled around one another, stroking and kissing and whispering, their voices low and intimate.

"What if he finds out?" Henry asked.

"Don't worry. He doesn't suspect a thing." Clark grinned, the big, wide smile that always made Lex just a little weak in the knees, and the two of them started to laugh.

They laughed and laughed. Just the way his father and Victoria must have. Desiree. Helen.

He lurched off down the hall, toward the cloakroom. Clark could have his precious Henry bring him back to the penthouse when they'd finished-- whatever they were doing together. He was going home to watch the world spin from the comfort of his own bed and spend some quality time puking in the bathroom.

He rounded a corner of the lobby and ran headlong into someone, nearly falling on his ass in his inebriated state. His eyes weren't exactly focusing the way there were supposed to, and all he could make out at first were small feminine hands holding him up, a delicate waft of perfume.

"Alex. You are quite the worse for wear, aren't you?" an amused female voice said close to his ear.

"Oh, God."

With the exception of his father, Millicent Brubaker had to be the last person he needed to see right now. They'd gone to prep school together, one of the many Lex had attended, until he'd been thrown out of that one, too. He and Millicent had had their share of misadventures, almost all of which made Lex cringe to think of now.

"Is something wrong?" she asked. "You didn't have a fight with that perfectly scrumptious new boyfriend of yours, did you? Although he did seem rather friendly with Henry Howell. I wonder what they could have been talking about?"

"Fuck off," he said, although his slurred speech took some of the bite out of it.

Millicent only laughed. "Now, now, don't get testy with me. Old friends have to look out for one another."

It would have been more accurate to call them former fuckbuddies, but he was too tired and too miserable to debate it. "I have to get out of here."

"Let me help you." She took him by the arm. "You're not looking terribly steady on your feet." She walked him the rest of the way. The cloakroom was empty, the staff clearly not anticipating the guests would begin leaving this early.

"Kind of reminds you of old times, doesn't it?" Her voice was low and sultry. "You and me and an empty coatroom."

"I prefer not to take those trips down memory lane."

She pressed herself to his side. "Are you sure about that, Alex? Because the way I remember it we had a lot of good times together. Tell the truth. Couldn't you use a little consolation about now?"

"What do you want, Millicent?" he asked, tiredly. She always wanted something. Everyone did.

Warm lips brushed the side of his face. "Only to make you feel better," she said in her breathy voice, right against his ear. "I do know how to make you feel good. Don't you at least remember that?" She placed wet, sucking kisses along his jaw, down his throat. Her hand cupped his groin, stroking and squeezing.

He'd fucked her off and on for a good two years, and he had no idea how she took her coffee or if she even ate breakfast, much less what her favorite cereal was. And he didn't care. She could have had every man at the carnival bending her over the rack, doing her right there, and he wouldn't have given a shit. Because he didn't love her, and he never had. That he was getting hard in her hand was merely biology, stimulus and response, the simplest equation imaginable. Maybe his big mistake was ever deviating from that, ever letting things get more complicated. Maybe his father was right, and he was a washout at relationships. Maybe he really should have known better than to let himself want too much. To actually love someone. What had that ever gotten him in the past except royally fucked over?

He grabbed her wrist, holding too tightly, making her gasp. "You want to help? Fine." He pushed her back against the wall, worked his knee between her thighs, forced his tongue into her mouth.

She laughed, let her hands slide down his back to his ass. "Now that's the Alex I remember."

"Shut up!" He bit her lip.

"Angry sex. I always liked that with you."

He yanked the hem of her dress up, pushed her panties out of the way and sank two fingers into her pussy.

"Alex!"

She was already wet, and he could smell her. It wasn't the right smell, but it was sex. And he was hard and desperate and needed something, anything, to make the ache in his chest seem a little less like something that was going to kill him. Millicent was here, and she was willing. And she had no power to hurt him.

He pushed down the straps of her gown and kissed her breasts. She cupped his head in her palm and held him there, sighing as he licked and teased each nipple.

"Fuck me, Alex! Fuck me right here. Just like the old days."

If he'd been even remotely sober, he would have realized how easily they could be discovered. That they didn't have protection. That there were reasons why Millicent was relegated firmly to his past. Of course, if he'd been sober, he wouldn't have been fucking someone who wasn't Clark to begin with.

But he wasn't sober.

The first thrust into her pussy made him moan out loud. It didn't feel the way it did with Clark. But she was still tight and hot, and he plunged deeper inside her, instinct taking over, primal and uncomplicated. It was impossible to think and fuck at the same time, and that's exactly what Lex needed right now, to not think.

Millicent dug her fingernails into his jacket and made little sobbing sounds of pleasure. When he felt the tightening in his balls, he slid his hands between their bodies, stroked her clitoris until her eyes went wide and the sounds stopped altogether. Her pussy spasmed around his cock, squeezing the orgasm out of him too.

He pulled out of her and offered his handkerchief. The blurriness from the alcohol receded all at once, leaving him almost painfully clear-headed. Then the squalidness of what he'd just done hit him. This was all his bad old days reprised, and he was getting way too old for this. There was a reason, after all, why he'd given up the simplicity of freefalling sex. Because no matter how much he thought he wanted it, afterwards it always left a pall of humiliation.

The contrast between this and making love with Clark could not have been more stark.

"Regrets, Alex?" Millicent studied him. "Or maybe that's guilt I'm seeing?"

He set his jaw and didn't answer.

Her eyes sparkled with amusement, and she took a step closer. "You really have it bad for him, don't you?" She smiled in a way he knew to be wary of. "You shouldn't let it turn you into a jealous bore. I did actually hear what they were talking about, you know. In the game room. Henry and Clark. They were talking about how much in love they are."

The flash of pain Lex felt must have showed because she laughed.

"Oh, not with each other, Alex. You did know Henry Howell is getting married, didn't you? He's head over heels about her, from what I hear. And it seems, Clark has it pretty bad for you, too." She grinned with malicious enjoyment. "Or at least he did."

It was not possible to keep the shock off his face, as wise as that would have been. All the things he'd been imagining, all his suspicions, and this was the truth.

Millicent leaned in, lowered her voice. "You did ask what I wanted, Alex." She ran the back of one brightly lacquered fingernail across his cheek. "And the answer is to teach not to underestimate me." She tilted her head. "I think you've learned your lesson, don't you?"

Her smile was all triumph as she swept off in a tide of tulle. Lex feared for a moment that he might be physically sick. What he'd seen between Clark and Henry Howell had been perfectly innocent. Lex, on the other hand, had actually--

"Oh fuck!" he cursed loudly and ran back to the party.

The first thing he saw when he entered the ballroom was Millicent, standing with his father, rather cozily, his arm around her waist. When she noticed him in the doorway, she whispered in Lionel's ear. Then his father leaned in, and they shared a long, showy kiss.

And Lex understood just how big a fool he'd been

But that didn't matter. The only important thing was Clark. He walked up and down the long ballroom frantically searching for him. He asked everyone they knew, but no one had seen him. Finally, he spotted Mitzi and dragged her away from the conversation she was having with the Ukrainian ambassador.

"Have you seen Clark?" he asked, urgently.

"Yes, on his way out. Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, he seemed rather upset."

Lex's heart started to pound. "Shit!"

She narrowed her eyes. "What did you do?"

"I-- Fuck!"

"Well, don't just stand there." She waved her hand. "Go find him. Makes things right."

He didn't even bother with his coat. The limo was down the block. His driver was leaning against the hood, smoking a cigarette. He quickly put it out when he saw Lex hurrying down the sidewalk.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Luthor. I didn't realize you were ready to leave."

"Just get me home. Make it quick."

His driver touched the brim of his cap. "Right away, sir."

Lex hopped in, and they took off. He dialed the penthouse, but it rang and rang without answer. The streets were largely deserted. This was primarily a business district, and the only Halloween festivity in the area was the carnival. They pulled up outside the apartment building in less than ten minutes.

"Thanks," he said to the driver as he hurried inside.

In the elevator, he practiced what he would say. I was drunk or I'm so fucking stupid or maybe just an abject Please forgive me! Of course, he didn't know for a fact that Clark realized what he'd done. Maybe he'd just gotten tired or thought Lex had already gone or felt unwell or something, some other reason he'd left early. Lex could only hope. And make sure he played it cool. If he could get of this without his life being utterly ruined, he'd be a hell of a lot luckier than he deserved.

The penthouse was dark and silent when he came through the door. He stood for a moment absorbing the stillness, real fear starting to clench his chest.

"Clark?" he called out. "Clark!" His voice rang in the empty room.

He went through the entire apartment looking for him, even though he didn't actually expect to find him. It was just something to do. There was no sign of Clark anywhere, no evidence that he'd even stopped back after the party.

Lex finally gave up and headed for the bedroom. He could only hope that Clark would come home later, and they could talk this out. He took off his jacket and sat down heavily on the bed. How could everything have gone to hell so quickly? How could he have been so monumentally stupid?

He let out his breath and got up to undress. He took off his cufflinks and returned them to their box.

"Have a good time?" a voice asked from behind him.

He whirled around. "Clark?"

"You were expecting someone else?" He stepped out of the shadows near the door.

"No. Of course not." Lex's heart pounded, but he forced himself to hold it together, to keep his voice natural, to hopefully not give anything away. "I just-- I didn't realize you were home. You left the party without telling anyone."

"Yes, well--" He stood a step toward Lex. "I didn't really feel like waiting around while you finished fucking that slut."

"You--" Sweat broke out on his forehead.

"Oh, yes. I saw you. I saw everything."

"God." He was so desperate his hands were shaking. "Clark. I'm so sorry. Please. It's not what you think. It wasn't--"

"Shut up!" Clark's voice was loud enough that the walls seemed to shake. His eyes glittered in the dark like a wild animal's, like he didn't quite know what he was going to do next, and for the first time, Lex realized just how dangerous someone as strong as Clark could be.

"Let me explain," he begged. "Let me make it better."

Clark paced down the center of the room. "Why did you go to all the trouble to make me think you cared about me? Huh? Why did you have to do that? If this was just business, I could handle it. But I thought I was important to you."

"You are! God. You're the most important thing, Clark."

"Bullshit!" His whole body shook. "If you care about someone, you don't fuck around on them behind their back. You don't humiliate them in public."

It was a moment of staggering realization, and it burned away the last residue of his father's lies, his own doubts. There had always been a part of him, the part that remembered too well how good it felt to hold Desiree, how tender Helen could be, that had persisted in believing no one could really be as sweet as Clark. Now that it was too late, his eyes were wide eye open, and he could see Clark, the boy from Smallville, whose parents had taught him right from wrong, brought him up to believe in things like loyalty and faithfulness. Things that Clark naturally assumed were a given between the two of them, because he did truly love Lex. Or at least he had.

"I didn't mean--" But there was nowhere to go with that, because he might not have meant to, but the fact remained that he had. He'd played into his father's hands yet again and quite possibly destroyed the only chance at happiness he'd ever have. "I'm not going to try to make excuses, because there's no excuse for what I did. But, God! I am truly, truly sorry. Please! Let me try to make it up to you."

"Oh, you will, Lex. Don't worry. I know exactly how you can make it up to me, too."

The look in his eyes made Lex take a hasty step backward, but the bed was right there, hemming him in. There was nowhere to go, and Clark was too quick anyway, on him before he even knew what was happening. His clothes ripped like tissue paper in Clark's hands, and he was naked and on his back before he had time to think "no," much less say it.

Clark loomed, staring down at him. "You like owning things. Like owning me. Well, I've got news for you, Lex. This isn't a one-way street. I fucking own you, too. And I'm going to make sure you never forget it again." He tore his own pants open, his cock already hard.

Lex's heart lurched in his chest. "Come on, Clark. Not like this." He tried to sit up, but Clark pushed him roughly back down. "Please!"

"Is that what she said when you were fucking her? Huh, Lex? Please?"

Then Clark was on top of him, holding him down, grinding against him, kissing like a form of punishment, his mouth hard and unforgiving on Lex's.

Lex tried to push him away, starting to panic for real. "Clark. Clark, listen. Okay? I fucked up. Really, really bad. I know you're upset. And you have every right to hate me. But if you do this, you're going to hate yourself."

Clark bit him on the shoulder, much too hard. "Shut up!"

He manhandled Lex onto his side, using his weight to keep him there, holding Lex's flailing arms, his hands clenched so tightly around Lex's wrists there would definitely be bruises.

"Get off me!" Lex struggled as much as Clark's strong grip would allow.

"It's not that much fun being treated like a whore, is it, Lex?" He maneuvered their bodies so his erection pressed into the cleft of Lex's ass. "But that's what you get for acting like one."

The taunting tone of voice and the physical restraint and his own desperate fear brought a sick flash of memory, all the rough, dangerous, demeaning sex he'd ever had in his life. But, God, this was Clark. And it wasn't supposed to be this way. He couldn't let it be like this.

He kicked and bit and actually managed to wrench one wrist free, but Clark just grabbed him again, holding on more tightly this time. Much too tightly, in fact. Searing pain shot up Lex's arm, and he screamed in agony. Clark froze and then quickly let him go. Lex rolled onto his back, cradling his injured wrist against his chest, the pain so intense and stabbing it left him gasping for breath.

"Oh, my God." Clark stared, his face sickly white, eyes huge and filled with a shocked kind of misery.

"It's okay. Okay," he struggled to say. This was his fault, and he wanted so much to give Clark some small measure of comfort. But, God, it hurt so badly and he couldn't catch his breath to speak.

Clark sprang off the bed.

"Clark!" Lex managed to call out. "Don't."

Clark turned and staggered into the bathroom. There was a sharp noise as the toilet seat was thrown up, and then Lex could hear the unmistakable sound of retching. He closed his eyes and wished to God there was something he could do, that he'd never gotten them into this fucked up mess in the first place. All the truly horrendous things he'd done in his life, all the hideous things that had been done to him, and this was by far the worst night of his life.

The vomiting stopped, and Lex waited for Clark to come back. But the minutes ticked by, and he didn't hear any stirring in the bathroom.

"Clark!" he called out. "Clark, are you okay?"

He managed to pick himself up from the bed. The pain was so intense it made him light-headed and unsteady on his feet. He stumbled his way across the room and peered into the bathroom. There was no other way out than through the bedroom, but Clark was nowhere to be seen. The window was open, though, cool air gusting in, billowing the curtains. Lex stared. All that was out there was gravity and the unforgiving sidewalk forty stories down.

"Oh my God!" Lex's heart hammered. His stomach turned over, and he thought he was going to be sick too. All his life, he'd despised his father for destroying what he was supposed to love, but Lex was just like him, the same kind of poison. He lurched over to the window, horror and grief and physical pain making it impossible to breathe.

He leaned as far out as he could and looked, and thank God! There was nothing. No flashing lights, no commotion, no morbid crowd of onlookers, no beautiful boy broken on the hard pavement below.

He slid down the wall, too weak to stand. He couldn't imagine how Clark had gotten out that way, but then, he did have his secrets. And it didn't matter just as long as he was okay.

Lex sat there for-- He didn't even know how long. The pain and the shock of what might have been overpowered him, and it took some time to pull himself back together. When he did finally manage to get up from the cold bathroom tile, he made a beeline for the phone. He debated a moment about who to call first, but the horrible throbbing in his wrist made the decision for him.

"Toby, I need you over here right now."

"Lex?" the man asked, groggily.

"Yes," he snapped. "I think I might have broken my wrist. Bring stuff for that. And pain pills. Don't forget the pain pills."

Toby's examination of Lex's wrist consisted primarily of poking at his injury, finding the most tender spot and pressing way too hard on it.

Lex jerked his arm back. "Fucking stop that already!"

Toby sighed. "I'm trying to make sure it's not broken. If you'd go to the hospital like a normal person, I wouldn't have to do this."

"No hospital."

"Well then be quiet and let me work." He took Lex's wrist back and started prodding at it once more. An excruciatingly long time later, he finally finished. "It doesn't seem to be broken. My best guess is that the bone is bruised. But like I said, you'd really need an x-ray to make sure."

"Just wrap it up for me. I'm sure it will be fine."

Toby sighed heavily. "Have I ever mentioned what a bad patient you are?" Lex glared at him, and he held up his hands. "Fine, fine. I'm wrapping it up." He opened his bag, pulled out supplies and started to work. "How'd you say you got this again?"

"Fell."

"Mmm."

"What?"

"It's just that this a compression injury, Lex. You don't get one of these from falling down. Someone had to squeeze and squeeze and squeeze, hard enough to bruise the bone." Toby gave him an appraising look. "I've seen pictures of you with that new boyfriend of yours. He's pretty strong, huh?"

"If the next thing you're planning to say is that love's not supposed to hurt, please don't."

Toby let out his breath impatiently. "Fine if this is how you want to live--"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means I've seen what other people have done to you."

Lex glared. "I don't pay you for your memory." Some of his post-Helen misadventures had gotten rather messy. It wasn't something he enjoyed thinking about. "And this isn't like that. He's not like that."

"I guess that's why I'm bandaging your wrist, huh?"

"It wasn't--" He was going to say it wasn't Clark's fault, but why the hell was he explaining himself to Toby? "Just finish it."

"There." Toby pulled back and admired his handiwork. "This will immobilize the wrist, help it heal and keep it from being reinjured. Assuming it's not actually broken, of course. You should still get that x-ray to make sure."

"It's fine," Lex said, pulling the sleeve of his shirt down over the bandage. "I trust you."

Toby arched an eyebrow. "You sure you didn't hit your head too?"

Lex shot him a nasty look. "Just give me some stuff for the pain and get out already."

Toby rolled his eyes. "You're welcome, naturally." He pulled a white medicine bottle out of his pocket. "Take two at a time, no more than every four hours, and absolutely no booze with it." Lex reached for the bottle, but Toby wouldn't let it go. "I'm serious, Lex."

Lex snatched it away. "I'm not an imbecile."

"No, just insanely reckless." He pulled his coat on. "If you have any problems, call me. Or better yet, go to the hospital like you have some sense."

"I'll be fine."

Toby gave him an assessing look. "Take care of yourself, Lex." And he left.

Lex took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Heartache and physical pain were a one-two punch, and he felt like an impossible weight was pressing down on him, making his limbs heavy, every muscle in his body aching. God, he needed some sleep. He'd start looking for Clark tomorrow. He'd put Phelan on it-- Or no. Maybe he'd handle it himself. In any event, he would find Clark. He'd come up with a way to explain, make amends, win him back. He had to.

He poured himself a glass of Scotch, washed down the pain pills with it and headed off to bed. What Toby didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

Clark didn't return the next day or the day after that, and Lex finally had to admit that he probably wasn't ever coming back, not unless Lex could find him and convince him. He desperately combed through Clark's things at the apartment, looking for anything that might give him a clue where he'd gone. The only thing he'd found out of the ordinary was a crumpled ball of cashiers checks, uncashed, all the money he'd paid Clark while it was still supposedly a business arrangement. That was like being pierced through the heart.

He called Tucker immediately and put him on it

"It's not the kind of thing I usually handle," he said somewhat skeptically.

"It's important, and you're the only one I trust. And I'm willing to pay whatever you want."

"I'll see what I can do."

Their investigation, however, failed to turn up any leads. Clark had a runaway's talent for disappearing and staying hidden, and Tucker's people had their finger on the pulse of corporate America, not the flesh districts of Metropolis. Some instinct warned Lex against calling Phelan, although he would certainly have better contacts for the job. Finally, Lex just decided to go out looking himself. Clark had left without money, without clothes, without anything, and the idea of him cold and destitute was killing him.

It seemed logical to start where everything had begun.

"Why are you looking for him?" the bartender down at the club asked a little warily when he inquired whether he'd seen "Jerry" lately.

"It's just very important that I speak with him."

The man gave him an appraising look. "Hasn't been around. Sorry. Can't help you." He turned around and went back to stocking the bar.

"Please." He let his desperation show, something his pride ordinarily would not have permitted, but he got the feeling this man knew more than he was saying and this was his only real lead. "Something happened and-- I just really need to find him. Tell him--" God, just how sorry he was.

The man sighed and stopped what he was doing. "He's a good kid. Not like some of them that come through here."

"I know that. It's why I'm here."

His expression was reluctant, but he finally said, "You got a pen?" Lex quickly fished his out of his pocket, and the bartender wrote an address on a cocktail napkin. "I heard through the grapevine he's got a place over there."

"Thank you." Lex tucked the napkin into his pocket with great care, as if it were the most valuable thing he had. "I can't even tell you how much I appreciate this."

"Yeah, well. I didn't do it for you. I did it for the kid. He deserves better than this kind of life."

Lex swallowed hard. "Yes, yes, he does."

He drove to the address the bartender had given him, parked and got out. To call Clark's building a tenement would actually have been a compliment. The ramshackle frame structure was covered in grime and graffiti. There were broken windows boarded up with cardboard, and the front steps sagged rather precariously. Lex waited for someone to come out and darted in while the door was still open. The interior was just as shabby, most of the light bulbs burned out, giving the hallway an unnatural sense of twilight. Dusty footprints tracked up the steps, and the walls were smeared with grease. Maintenance, apparently, wasn't much of a priority.

Lex climbed the steps two at a time and stopped on the fourth floor. He could feel his heart pounding in his throat as he knocked. The door opened, and then Clark was standing right there, blinking, startled to see him.

"Lex--" He shuffled his feet nervously. "I wasn't expecting--" He trailed off, and his eyes dropped to the floor.

"Can I come in?"

"Well--"

"Please? Just for a minute. I only want to talk."

"I guess," Clark finally relented and let him in.

A young man came out of the bedroom, pulling on his shirt. "Clark, I'm going to take off now." He stopped in surprise when he saw Lex.

Lex had no moral ground to stand on. He'd slept with someone else when they were still together, which was far worse than this. And yet, he was blindsided by rage. Someone else had been with Clark, touched him, maybe been inside him, gotten to see and hear and feel him at his most intimate, and that was supposed to belong only to him. He felt a new wave of guilt about what Clark must have gone through that night at the carnival. Because right now Lex felt like he was being stabbed in the chest, and all he could think about was murdering the bastard who'd had the temerity to fuck the man he loved.

The guy shot Clark a look of concern. "Hey, is everything okay--" He reached for Clark's arm.

Before Lex could stop himself he was pushing him away. "Get your fucking hands off him!"

"Lex! No!" Clark's arm swung out, holding him back. "He's just my roommate, Lex. My roommate."

The roommate's face went bright red with anger. "Tell your goddamned boyfriend to back off, man."

"Sorry about that, Trey. He's not going to make any more trouble, are you, Lex?" he asked, pointedly.

Lex shook his head and took a deep breath, trying to collect himself.

Trey rolled his eyes. "Later, man." He slammed the door.

"Nice guy," Lex said, dryly.

"Well, he is when he's not being attacked. What was that about, anyway?"

"I--" He couldn't meet Clark's eyes. "I thought--"

"I don't do that kind of work anymore. I have a job over at the supermarket. And besides, I'm not like you, Lex. I don't move on that fast."

If Clark had hit him, it wouldn't have hurt so much. "I'm sorry--"

"But if I had been fucking him, that would have been my business, not yours. Why did you even come here?"

His throat was so dry it was hard to speak. "I want another chance."

Clark stared at him incredulously. "Why? You're obviously tired of me. Ready to take up with some--" He clenched his jaw. "Somebody else."

"That not true. I--"

"I can't just be the whore you fuck when it's convenient, Lex. Not anymore, not when I--" He broke off.

"You're not! God. You're--" He struggled to find the right word. "You're everything, Clark. Do you understand that? Everything."

Clark shook his head, his eyes shining. "If I was, you wouldn't have-- Why did you do that, Lex? Why couldn't you just tell me you wanted to end it?" His voice was desperate, his eyes searching Lex's face for some explanation.

"I didn't want to end it. I don't. I swear to God." Lex closed his eyes. "I just-- I was jealous."

Clark didn't react for a moment. "What?"

He swallowed hard. "I thought you were having an affair. With Henry Howell."

Clark looked even more confused. "Because he talked to me? Because we played a game of Skeeball?" Clark stared at him in bewilderment. "And anyway, he's getting married."

"Yes, well, I know that now."

Clark shook his head. "You really don't get it, do you? I mean, besides the obvious that I just wouldn't ever, ever do that. Do you think any of those people in your circle give a shit about me? Except maybe Mitzi. Henry for sure doesn't. He was just being nice to me to suck up to you. All those people who were so eager to talk to me at the party? It's only because I'm with you. You're-- everyone wants to know you. And that's the only reason they get to know me. If I weren't with you, they wouldn't give me the time of day. No matter how nice they ever are, I never forget that."

"Clark, that's not--"

"It is true, Lex. You just don't see it because you--" He swallowed painfully. "Or at least you used to." His voice was choked. "Did you arrange to meet her there?"

"No! God, no. Clark." He grabbed his arm. "I didn't. I wouldn't. I just-- I saw you with Henry and I thought-- I was going to get my coat and leave. And she was there. I was drunk and angry and--" His throat hurt so much. "It just happened. I swear."

"I don't understand how you could think I'd cheat on you. After I told you how much I love you."

"People say that, Clark. They don't always mean it. People play games. They--"

"I don't," he said, with a flash of anger.

"I realize that now. I do. I should have understood it before."

Clark frowned. "It was your father, wasn't it? He made you believe things about me."

"My father-- He thinks happiness makes people soft, and it's his mission in life to see that I'm not soft. But I'm the one who-- did what I did. I take responsibility for it. It was my fault and nobody else's."

Clark's expression was thoughtful "That's how I found you. Your father. He told me where you were. Said you needed help. Needed me."

He probably shouldn't have been surprised by any cold-blooded thing his father did, but this viciousness had been directed at Clark and that made it different, made it worse. "I'm sorry you got caught up in this mess between me and my father. I'm so sorry you were hurt."

"Tell me you didn't want her," Clark said, a little desperately.

"I didn't. I swear to God. She's just somebody from the past. We don't even like each other. I just-- I wasn't thinking. And afterwards-- I can't even tell you how much I regretted it." He squeezed his eyes shut. "That's when she told me what she'd heard you and Henry talking about and-- I hated myself even more."

Clark's eyes widened. "She was part of it, too?"

Lex sighed. "I'm a complete fucking idiot."

"No, you're not. But you should have believed in me."

"I know. I was wrong, Clark. Very, very wrong." He moved closer, touched Clark's arm. "Please give me another chance. Let me make it up to you somehow. I'll do anything. I'll find a way. I promise. Just come home. Please. Come home where you belong."

Clark looked away. "I can't do that, Lex. I'm sorry. I just-- can't."

It's not like he'd expected Clark to agree right away, but the firmness of the rejection cut him. "Look, I know you don't trust me anymore. And for good reason. But if you'd just let me--"

"It's me I don't trust." He glanced down at Lex's wrist. "Is it broken?"

Lex was startled. "Um. No. Just a bruise."

"You went to the hospital and had it checked out?"

"I had a doctor I know take a look."

Clark frowned. "Did you have it x-rayed?"

"No. But it's fine, Clark. Really."

"Jesus, Lex. You could be walking around with a broken wrist." He reached for Lex's arm but then froze. "Is this all right?" Lex nodded, and Clark took his wrist gingerly in his hand and stared at it for a moment. "It's not broken," he said with relief.

Lex smiled crookedly. "Told you."

Clark actually smiled, too. For a moment, it was almost as if nothing had happened. But that was only for a moment.

"I still can't go home with you," Clark said, stubbornly.

"But why?"

"Because I did that, and I'm dangerous." Lex had never seen a more heart-breaking look on anyone's face.

"Clark, everyone loses their temper sometime. Everyone does things they wish--"

"I'm not everyone!" His face was filled with misery. "I can't afford to lose control, Lex. I can't get carried away. I could-- I could have done serious damage." His voice dropped to an almost inaudible whisper. "I could have killed you."

"Clark--"

"I hurt the people I care about. I don't mean to. But I do." He shook his head. "And I can't do that to you. I won't."

"You were hurt. Upset. You can't condemn yourself for one--"

"It's not just one time. You don't know everything about me. The things I've done." He looked down at the floor. "When I first got to Metropolis I was really messed up and-- scary." His voice shook. "I wanted to believe that wasn't me. That it was only because I wasn't in my right mind. But it's a part of me, that dark, ugly place. And it always will be."

"Everyone has darkness inside them. God knows I do, more than my fair share, I'm sure. And everyone has to fight that aspect of their nature. That's part of being human. Maybe it's true that you're not like everyone else, that it's more important for you to win your battle. But I know you will, because you're the kindest, most decent person I've ever known. Even though it probably doesn't seem like it, I do honestly trust you, Clark. More than I've ever trusted anyone in my whole life."

Clark looked almost hopeful, like he wanted to believe, but wasn't quite certain if he dared. "Are you sure you're not afraid of me?"

"The only thing I'm afraid of is losing you."

There was still hesitation in Clark's eyes, but he finally said, "Things would have to be different."

Hoped leaped wildly in Lex's chest. "Anything."

"I need you to tell me when something's bothering you, not keep it all bottled up inside. I knew something was wrong, that it had been for weeks, but I didn't know what and you always said everything was fine. If you'd talked to me, maybe I could have helped, shown you that you don't have anything to worry about. Maybe things would have been different."

Lex nodded. "You're right. I know you're right. I should have told you."

Clark's voice softened. "I know things have happened, and you have your reasons why you do things the way you do. But just try to remember I'm me, not them. Okay?"

"Okay."

Clark stroked his fingers along Lex's sleeve, just above the bandage. "And I won't ever, ever do this again. I swear to God."

"I know you won't. Is there anything else?"

"Just one more thing. I'm going to keep my job and apply for scholarships and go to school part-time if that's all I can afford. I'm going to buy my own books and my own clothes and any other stuff I need. I'm not going to let you pay for everything anymore."

"Clark, I really don't mind--"

"But I do." He sighed. "I need to stand on my own two feet, Lex. Be my own man. That's the way real relationships are. Between equals. And--" He hesitated. "If you always think I'm up for grabs to the highest bidder, you'll never really trust me."

"I don't think that!" Lex said, vehemently. Clark gave him a doubting look. "I really don't."

"I'm still going to pay for myself," Clark said, resolutely.

Lex let out his breath. "If that's really what you want." If worse came to worse, he could find ways to help Clark without him realizing it, phantom scholarships, mysterious stipends, a "sweepstakes" he'd luckily win. Clark would have the life he deserved, no matter what.

"Don't," Clark said.

"What?"

Clark rested his hand on the curve of Lex's head, lightly rubbed his thumb in circles over his temple. "Whatever devious plans you're spinning to pay for stuff behind my back."

"I'm not."

"I know you. And we were going to be more straightforward with each other, remember?"

Lex sighed. "You're life doesn't have to be hard."

"But it does have to be mine," Clark said, with quiet conviction. He pulled Lex closer, one arm around his shoulder in a light embrace. "It'll be better this way. You'll see. It'll just be about us, not money or other people or anything else."

Lex wrapped his arms around Clark's waist and held on tightly. "Does this mean you're coming home?"

"Yes." He pulled back. "But if you ever cheat on me again, it's over."

Lex swallowed hard. "I understand."

He gently lifted Lex's injured wrist. "And if I ever do anything like this again, you have to walk away from me. Promise?"

"But you won't."

"No. I won't. But promise anyway."

"All right." His voice went soft. "I'm really am sorry I hurt you, Clark."

"I'm sorry I hurt you, too."

Clark insisted on bringing the few pieces of rather beaten-up clothing he'd managed to acquire since he'd been gone back to the penthouse with him. They packed it into the Ferrari and headed off.

If Lex had expected the homecoming to be jubilant, to make everything right again, he was sadly disappointed. They didn't say much on the ride across town, and the silence only grew more pronounced as they rode the elevator up to the apartment. They carried Clark's things inside and stalled in the hallway between Lex's bedroom and the guest room in a moment of rather painful indecision.

"If you'd feel more comfortable--" he started to say.

At the same time, Clark volunteered, "If you want--"

They ended up leaving his stuff in the guest room, although frankly it was not what Lex wanted. Of course, he didn't expect Clark to feel like making love with him any time soon. But if he could just have him in his bed again, it would be so much easier to believe things were ultimately going to work out between them.

Still, it was hardly unreasonable that Clark would want some distance. Lex was just lucky he'd agreed to come back at all. He could be patient. He could wait. Give Clark space or time or whatever he needed.

"Um. I have some studying to do," Clark said awkwardly. "I guess I'll get to it."

Lex smothered his disappointment. "Of course. I have some business to take care of. I'll--see you later."

He left Clark and headed to his study. There was, in fact, a mountain of work that had piled up while he was focused on finding Clark. Still, he would happily have ignored it to spend time just sitting on the couch watching DVDs if that's what Clark wanted. He sighed unhappily and dug into the stack of papers.

Lex warmed up a meal the cook had left in the refrigerator, and dinner was as quiet as the rest of the afternoon had been. They cleaned up the kitchen, and Clark went back to his room for more studying. Lex returned to his desk and tried to concentrate on work, but his attention kept drifting to the spare room, to Clark, to how fucked up things were between them. Finally, he just gave up and went to knock at the door.

"Yeah?"

He peeked his head inside. "I think I'm going to turn in now."

Clark glanced at the clock. "It's kind of early. Is everything okay?"

"Sure. I just-- I'm a little tired."

"Oh." Clark's expression was very serious. "Well, okay. I'll see you in the morning then."

"Goodnight."

"'Nite, Lex."

He plodded down the hall to his room, closed the door and took off his clothes. His arms and legs felt so heavy just changing seemed like a chore. He pulled on his pajama bottoms, slid into bed and lay there, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling.

He was too tired to really think, and there wasn't much new ground to cover anyway. He couldn't go back and undo anything, so it was useless desperately wishing that he could. Besides, it had turned out far better than he could have expected, certainly better than he deserved. Clark had at least come home. If there was a feeling in Lex's chest like he was being ripped open, then he'd just have to learn to live with it. After all, he'd earned it.

He had no idea how long he lay there. He didn't really want to know and didn't look at the clock. The room grew gradually darker, and he figured it must be late by now. He wasn't going to be able to sleep, and he just wished this night would be over. Maybe things would seem a little better in the morning.

The last thing he expected was for Clark to appear in his room. He hovered in the doorway, dressed in the pajamas he didn't usually wear.

"Lex?" he whispered. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah. Is everything okay?"

He took a few steps toward the bed. "Not really." His expression was a mystery in the dim light, but he sounded sad and lost. "Would it be all right if I sat down?"

Lex nodded. He felt like someone had him by the throat, squeezing hard. If Clark had come to tell him it wasn't going to work after all, he'd have to accept it. He just couldn't imagine how he'd manage it.

"I need you to be straight with me the way we promised. Okay?" Lex nodded, and Clark asked, "Do you really want me to stay in the guest room?"

He closed his eyes. "No."

"I don't want to stay there, either," he said, in a rush. "I just-- I didn't know what to do before. It felt weird, and I'm not used to that with us. And I didn't know what you wanted."

"I just thought you might need some space after everything that's happened."

"And I thought maybe you didn't want me close after what I--" His voice dropped. "Tried to do."

"I want you close, Clark. I'll always want that."

"Can I stay then?"

He wanted to scream for sheer, fucking joy, but he said simply, "Sure."

He scooted over, and Clark slipped under the covers.

"Is it all right if I touch you? I don't mean-- I just want to hold you."

Lex nodded, and Clark curved up against his back, draped one arm over his waist.

"I didn't think you'd want this anymore," he admitted.

"Aw, Lex." He snuggled closer, pressed a kiss to Lex's shoulder. "Don't you know how much I missed you?"

"I missed you too, Clark." His voice felt like it had been scraped raw. "So much."

"I'm sorry I left you here alone when you were hurt. But after what I'd done--" He hesitated. "And what I tried to do, I just had to-- I couldn't stay. I'm sorry." He gently touched Lex's arm, just above the bandage. "I wouldn't have blamed you if you didn't want me touching you anymore."

"Clark, I'm just so fucking grateful you're here with me right now. You have no idea."

"Does your wrist hurt?"

He shook his head. "No, not really--"

Clark exhaled heavily against the back of his neck. "Lex."

He closed his eyes. "The doctor I told you I saw? He gave me pills for the pain, but there's this dull ache that never quite goes away."

"Is that why you can't sleep?"

"It's hard to sleep when you've fucked up the best thing you've ever had."

Clark held him tighter. "I know what you mean." He rested his cheek against Lex's shoulder. "Maybe it can't really be fucked up, though, if we don't let it?"

"I hope so. I don't want it to be."

"Me either." Clark's fingers drifted to the puckered scar on his side and stroked lightly, as if to soothe it away. "I didn't want to be like them. I wanted to be the one who never hurt you."

"Clark." He reached for Clark's hand, pressed it to his chest and held it there. "It's not the same. You've never hurt me when I didn't have it coming."

"Don't say that. Just because you do something I don't like doesn't give me the right to try to--" The pause was painful. "Or to break your arm."

"It's not broken, remember?"

"You know what I mean." Soft lips brushed his scalp. "You don't deserve to be hurt. I don't want you thinking that you do. You know, Lex, I do honestly believe you would never have done anything like this if it weren't for your father. That doesn't make it okay, but it does make a difference."

His throat clenched so tightly it was hard to speak. "Thank you."

"I forgive you, Lex. Just so you know. And I still love you. And I always will."

"Clark." He'd started to shake, and it felt like he might never stop, like he might fly apart. His own words of love cut him inside, but it felt as if he'd lost the right to say them, that he'd have to earn it back somehow. All he could do was clutch Clark's hand like a lifeline.

"Ssshh. It's okay." Soft kisses brushed the back of his neck. "I've got you, Lex."

In movies, people talked about starting over, pretending to meet again for the first time, trying to sweep away all the old history and move forward once more, hopefully not to repeat the same mistakes that had sent them back to the beginning in the first place. Lex had always smiled at these stories, the nave hopefulness of it, the well-trodden romanticism. In his experience, ruined was ruined, and nothing was going to change that.

But this was Clark now, and ruin just wasn't an option.

Maybe starting over was inevitable for them anyway given how they'd begun. No prelude, no courtship, unless the way they'd watched and fantasized about one another back at the club counted, and Lex was pretty sure it didn't. He'd never had to win Clark, never wooed him. Maybe it was true that the most important things in life could never be bought. They had to be earned.

Clark certainly seemed to think so. He remained insistent about paying his own way, working at the grocery store four days a week. Tonight, Lex had actually beaten him home. Deliveries came in on Wednesdays, and Clark's shift tended to run late. Lex had picked up Chinese on his way and a couple of DVDs from the first season of Clark's favorite show, a soapy drama about a bunch of really pretty gay boys. He ignored the irrational prickle of jealousy he always felt about Clark's obsession with it. They were just actors. It was only a show. And besides, he'd learned his lesson.

He got plates and silverware from the kitchen, set out the food on the coffee table in the living room. Clark usually came home hungry. He poured himself a Scotch, and it wasn't long before Clark walked through the door.

He smiled when he saw Lex. "Hey."

"Hey." Lex went to kiss him.

They were still careful with one another, even after Clark had come to him that first night. They kissed, slept in the same bed, but they hadn't made love yet. Lex missed it, missed Clark's body, his skin, the closeness of sex. But it did give him a chance to appreciate the small moments. Sometimes just holding Clark's hand filled him with such an intense rush of feeling it made his chest hurt.

"How was your day?" Clark asked.

"Good. Yours?"

"An order of artichokes came in. That's a big day down at the market." He grinned. "Do I have time to grab a shower before dinner?"

"Sure. And, hey, I picked up two episodes of your show at the video store. I thought we could watch them."

"That's so nice. Thank you." He kissed Lex before heading off to the bathroom.

He came back a little while later dressed in sweats, hair still damp, and they settled down to sesame chicken and moo-shu vegetables. After they ate, Clark popped in the DVD and curled up beside Lex on the sofa, resting his head on his shoulder. It didn't really matter that Lex wasn't a big fan of the show. They could have been staring at a blank screen for all he cared, just as long as he got to hold Clark.

He drank his Scotch and pressed an occasional kiss to the top of Clark's head and paid little attention to the story. He could never remember the characters' names or keep straight who had the drug problem and which one's mother committed suicide. Clark watched, completely engrossed, and Lex watched him, trying not to be too obvious.

The show took one of its predictably steamy turns, and two boys tumbled into bed together, laughing and kissing and fumbling with each other's clothes. Lex felt Clark tense against him, and his own attention was suddenly riveted to the screen. The boys were soon naked, moaning and moving against each other, and Lex was instantly, painfully hard. Clark was so near and he smelled so good, and Lex wanted him so much.

Clark shot him a hesitant look. Lex stroked his thumb along his cheek, tilted his chin and kissed him, lightly at first, sweetly. This was how they'd touched each other since Clark had come back, safely, affectionately, skirting around the passion that still simmered between them. But the sounds coming from the boys on screen were remarkably true to life, and it could have been the two of them doing those things to each other. Lex leaned into Clark, tangled his fingers in his hair, and the kiss caught fire, lighting all the reserves of hunger they'd been carefully holding back.

Lex devoured Clark's mouth, and Clark kisses were just as frenzied, leaving them both shuddering and breathless. There was a silent, fearful part of Lex that had wondered if he'd ever have this again, and now that he finally did, he couldn't get close enough, couldn't kiss or touch Clark enough.

Clark shifted his body, and Lex could feel the heat of his hard-on against his thigh. He sighed softly against his mouth and stroked his hands over his back. That Clark still wanted him made him almost weak with relief. Clark rubbed his hand in circles up the inside of his thigh. He let his legs fall open in encouragement. When Clark finally touched his cock through his pants, he gasped out loud, because, God, it felt so good and he'd missed this so much.

Clark, though, reacted as if he'd been slapped. He jumped back, scrambled away to the other end of the sofa. "I'm sorry," he said, eyes downcast.

"It's all right. It's--"

It was hard to find the right words when he ached for Clark so badly he didn't know how he'd stand it. But Clark clearly wasn't ready, and he had to respect that.

Clark got to his feet. "I'm just--" He waved his hand. "I think I'll go get ready for bed." He practically ran from the room.

Lex let out his breath and flopped back against the sofa. The scene on television had changed. There were different boys, in a club now, dancing, kissing. Lex's erection strained painfully against his zipper. He undid his pants, eased his cock out, but made sure to flip off the set first. Leaving it on would have felt too much like cheating. He squeezed his eyes shut and thought of Clark and jacked himself off, coming in his handkerchief to avoid a mess, hardly how he'd envisioned the evening ending.

He cleaned up the remains of dinner, and by the time he headed into the bedroom Clark was pretending to sleep. Lex changed into his pajamas and washed up in the bathroom. He slid into bed beside Clark, who was lying on his side, turned away from him, body tense. Lex stared up at the ceiling, wondering if they were ever really going to get past this.

Finally, he reached out and touched Clark's shoulder. "You okay?"

"I'm sorry, Lex." Clark sounded miserable.

Lex rubbed his hand in circles. "We're just at different places with this. There's nothing to be sorry for."

"You're not mad at me?"

"Of course not." He pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

Clark turned to face him. Lex folded him into his arms, stroked his hair.

"It's going to be okay," he said, as much to convince himself as Clark.

At least Lex was making progress at work. The next week, he got the call he'd been waiting for from Mason Tucker.

"We found the leak."

Lex gripped the phone tighter. "Who?"

"I'd rather discuss it in person. How's your afternoon look?"

"Be here in ten minutes."

He spent the time pacing up and down his office like some dangerous, caged thing. Payback was something he took seriously under any circumstances. He'd endured enough betrayal in his life that it had left a permanent bitter taste. But this bastard had sold him out to his father. Recent events had made that an even graver affront than usual. He planned to see that this traitor was very, very sorry. And he was going to enjoy doing it, too.

Tucker and his associates arrived and were sent directly in.

"Well?" Lex demanded the minute the door was closed.

Tucker took a seat, opened his briefcase, pulled out some papers. "You might want to sit down."

"Just show me."

Tucker handed him the report, and his mouth fell open. "You've got to be kidding."

"I'm afraid not."

"That little--" Lex lunged, halfway to the door before Tucker stopped him.

"We can't tip him off."

"Why the hell not? I want the police here. I want that spying son of a bitch in jail. Right now!"

"So do I. But we need evidence we can actually present in court. The surveillance we did on your competitors to break the case-- Well, let's just say it can't bear that kind of scrutiny."

Lex curled his hands into fists. "If he gets away with this--"

"He won't. Trust me."

Lex sighed impatiently. "So what do we do now?"

"Set a trap. Get proof we can use. The law is on our side when it comes to workplace surveillance. We'll rig this whole place with cameras tonight. Put a tap on the phone at his desk and in every common area on the floor. Monitor his email and Internet. We'll plant some information, tipping him off that something big is up. Tomorrow, you'll get a special delivery, couriered by my people, top-secret research from Cadmus. Then you'll suddenly be called away. And when he makes his move, we'll have him."

"What if he doesn't go for it?"

"He will. If he weren't waiting for another score, he wouldn't still be here."

Lex thought it over. "Do it," he said. "I want him behind bars. I want this over."

Tucker nodded. "We'll get started as soon as the subject has cleared the building."

"Good. I want that bastard out of my company, out of my building, out of my goddamned sight."

"You got it." Tucker gave his team the sign, and they headed for the door. "By the end of the day tomorrow, he'll be on his way to jail. I guarantee it."

They left, and Lex flopped down on his chair. It was one kind of insult to get played by his father. It was another that the instrument of his father's victory turned out to be the village idiot.

He sighed. There was only one thing that would make him feel better. He picked up the phone.

"Hello?" Clark answered.

"Hey."

"Lex." Even after everything that had happened, Clark still sounded as if it was the best kind of treat when Lex called, and that still made Lex feel like the luckiest man alive.

"How's the studying going?"

"Good. I think I'll be ready for the test by Saturday."

"You're going to do great."

"How's your day?"

He sighed. "What if I told you I'd been outwitted by a moron?"

Clark laughed softly. "I'd say that was pretty hard to believe."

He smiled, despite himself. "It's sad but true, I'm afraid."

"Then whoever it was must have just gotten lucky."

He cleared his throat. "Clark, would you like to go out to dinner with me tonight?" He felt almost nervous asking. They'd kept things very low key since Clark's return, and this would be the first time they'd actually gone out in public together.

"I'd love to, Lex," Clark's voice pulsed warmly over the line, and no matter how good it had been before, this was still better, because Clark wasn't paid to say yes. He might not even let Lex buy him dinner. It wasn't about money or connections or anything but the two of them. Lex really did believe that now.

"I'll see you soon," he said, smiling like a man who wasn't quite so afraid to be in love anymore.

They were late for their dinner reservation. Not because they didn't make it to the restaurant on time, but because Lex kept Clark outside a good ten minutes just saying hello.

Clark smiled softly as Lex explored a sensitive spot behind his ear. "So I'm guessing you're glad to see me?"

"Mmm." He kissed along Clark's jaw.

"Bad days have an interesting effect on you."

"They give me a renewed appreciation for the good things."

Clark pressed close, and Lex could feel the heat of his body. "Do you want to just skip dinner and go home?"

"Yes." He took Clark's hand and led him into the restaurant. "But I invited you out, and never let it be said that I welsh on a date."

Clark smiled, his eyes warm. "A date, huh?"

Lex kissed him. "Yes."

The maitre' d seated them. They took a look at the menu and ordered.

Lex sipped his wine, leaned back in his chair and studied Clark. "So tell me about your ambitions."

"What do you mean?"

"Just-- What do you want to be when you grow up?"

"Oh." Clark's eyes twinkled. "Well-- You're probably not going to like it."

Lex smiled. "Try me."

"I always kind of thought I'd like to be a reporter."

"Ah, a muckraker," Lex said, playfully.

Clark arched an eyebrow. "Don't you mean investigative journalist?"

"So you like to write?"

"I do," Clark said, almost as if it were a revelation. "I used to work on the school paper back home. Really just because a friend of mine strong-armed me into it. But the more I got involved with it, the more I could see spending my life doing that."

"I'd like to read something you've written sometime."

Clark's face lit up. "Really?"

"Of course."

Clark leaned forward. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure. Anything."

"Did you always know you wanted to run your own company?"

He nodded. "I grew up with the assumption that I'd take over LuthorCorp someday. I never really considered any other possibilities."

"Do you like your job?"

"You know, I do. I like-- Well, I like being in charge, needless to say." Clark grinned at that. "I like the mental challenge of it. Business is a lot like playing chess, anticipating your competitors' moves and countering them. And, of course, when you work for yourself you're actually taking a risk. And I like that best of all. Not playing it safe."

Clark was smiling softly.

"What?" Lex asked.

He shook his head. "It's just-- nice. We've never really talked like this before."

"No, I guess we haven't."

"Why now?" Clark regarded him curiously.

"Because starting over isn't just a plot device."

Clark blinked. "Um. What?"

"Things shouldn't just be different. They should be better."

Clark reached for his hand. "I want that, too."

Dinner arrived, and their conversation ranged all over the place. Lex confessed his embarrassingly geeky devotion to Warrior Angel. Clark shyly described how it had been for him in high school, feeling like a stranger, a guy who didn't play sports and blended into the woodwork, who had a crush on the prettiest girl but oddly didn't want to sleep with her and couldn't quite figure out why.

There was so much more that Lex wanted to know, wanted to tell. And he had to wonder why he'd never done this before, not just with Clark, but with anyone, why he'd always rushed past these important getting-to-know-you moments. He'd married Desiree after knowing her barely two weeks. Even if that was largely due to the brain-sapping spell she'd put on him, his head had been perfectly clear with Helen, and he'd known her only two months before asking her to move in. He could imagine the field day a therapist would have with all this. Are you trying to make up for the family you never really had? Do you think people will leave if you truly let them get to know you?

It was no wonder, frankly, that Lex didn't have a therapist.

They finished eating, and the check came. Lex reached for it, and Clark pulled out his wallet.

"I've got it," Lex told him.

"You know our agreement."

"Yes, and I also know that I invited you out. So it's only customary that I treat you." He plunked down a credit card and handed it to their waiter before Clark could argue further.

"What if I asked you out?" Clark challenged.

The waiter returned with the credit card receipt. Lex signed it, and they rose to go.

"Then I'd expect you to be a gentleman."

Clark smiled and took his hand as they headed for the coat check. "So are you busy on Saturday night? I'd like to take you out to celebrate. I get my first paycheck and hopefully I will have passed my test. I probably can't afford anything as fancy as this, but--"

He pulled Clark in for a kiss. "I'd love to."

Clark's face practically glowed with pleasure, and there was almost nothing that could have ruined Lex's mood right then. Unfortunately, running into Millicent Brubaker outside the cloakroom was one of them.

"Alex!" She made a big, gushing display of kissing him on the cheek. "It's so good to see you." Her glance traveled over to Clark. "And-- Carl, is it?" She smiled like the viper she was.

If Lex's jaw tightened any more his teeth would have cracked. "What do you want?"

"Only to say hello," she said innocently. And then pointedly looked over at the coatroom. "Brings back memories, huh, Alex?" She winked.

Clark stepped between them. "From what Lex tells me, I'd say it's more like nightmares."

Her mouth dropped open. "You little--"

Clark turned and laid a kiss on Lex that he felt down to his knees. Who knew a territorial Clark would be such a turn on?

"I'm afraid you're out of luck-- Melanie, was it?" Clark's voice was icy. "Lex doesn't do pity fucks anymore." He looked her up and down. "And haven't you heard? The FDA says silicone is bad for your health."

Millicent's face turned bright red. It was not the way she was used to being spoken to, and she seemed at a loss for words. Frankly, Lex was rather taken by surprise himself. Millicent shot them a poisonous look, turned on her heel and stalked away. Lex pressed his face into Clark neck and started to shake.

"Are you laughing at me?" Clark demanded, sounding hurt.

Lex shook his head. "No, no, with you." He wiped his eyes. "I haven't seen her speechless since-- Well, ever." He started laughing again.

"You really don't like her, do you?"

"Not even a little bit."

"Good," Clark said, with obvious satisfaction. "Because she can't have you."

He stroked his thumb along Clark's cheek. "No, she really can't."

Clark's smile was the brightest Lex had ever seen it.

They got their coats and went home. Back at the apartment, they headed into the bedroom to change. Clark sat down on the edge of the bed to take off his shoes. Lex put his cufflinks away and watched Clark in the mirror. They'd made progress. He could feel it. And yet, he still couldn't guess how Clark felt about going to bed with him. He'd thought he'd understood Clark's reticence the other night, but now he wasn't so sure. He was beginning to see the wisdom in Clark's insistence that they be more straightforward with each other.

He turned around. "I'd really like to have sex with you." Clark froze mid-shoelace. "I miss it. Miss being close to you that way. But I understand if you're not ready, and I can wait."

Clark darted a worried look at him. "I-- I didn't think--"

"Like I said, if you're not ready--"

Clark let out breath. "It's not that."

Lex sat down beside him. "Then what?"

"I just didn't expect that you'd want to-- after what I did." His eyes dropped to the floor.

"We both made mistakes, and we're both sorry. And, hey--" He tilted Clark's chin up. "We're both forgiven."

"What if I don't forgive myself?"

"Clark--"

He shook his head. "No, Lex. Don't try to say that what you did is the same, because it's not. You didn't almost--" His voice broke. "Rape the person you love. I don't know how I could have done that." His eyes locked desperately with Lex's. "And I'm afraid. What if something happens and I lose control again?"

"Clark." His voice was firm. "It's not going to happen again. You know why? Because you feel this bad about it. It's the same way you know I'll never cheat on you again."

"But I don't understand why, Lex. And I need to. Or I can't--" He shook his head. "Can't trust myself."

Lex had never really allowed himself to think about things that might have happened to Clark before they met, because just the idea of other men touching him was enough to drive him crazy. But Clark had said a lot of ugly things that night when he'd gotten angry, and those ideas had to have come from somewhere. Lex felt certain Clark's inner landscape was natively sunny. Dark and twisted things had to be transplants.

"It must have been pretty hard out on the streets, huh?"

"It wasn't fun."

"And the men you were with weren't always particularly nice to you, I'm guessing?"

Clark wouldn't answer, wouldn't even look at him.

"Did they hurt you?"

He shook his head. "They couldn't. I'm too strong."

"Hurt isn't always physical, Clark."

"Some of them called me names." His voice got very quiet. "Whore and bitch and stuff like that. And some of them-- liked to come in my face. They always got a big laugh out of that. And it made me feel so--" He didn't finish, but then he didn't have to.

Lex closed his eyes. "I'm sorry that happened to you."

"That's the first thing I noticed about you. That you weren't like that. Even the way you looked at me, like you actually saw me and not just some anonymous piece of ass. It was always different with you. I never felt dirty. Never felt like a whore."

"Until that night when you saw me with Millicent. Then it wasn't different anymore. Then it felt like you were back in your old life. Oh, Clark." He slipped his arm around Clark's shoulders and hugged him.

Clark whispered, "I would have hated myself if I'd actually--"

"But you didn't." He gathered Clark's face in his hands and looked into his eyes. "And you know what? I still love you. And I should have said that before."

Clark's face lit with a cautious kind of hope. "You do?" He sounded like a child who wanted something too much, and it was almost painful for Lex to hear. "I kind of thought, but you never said. I just hoped--"

Lex kissed him. "I do. I always have. I'm just kind of an idiot sometimes."

"No, you're not." Clark's hands couldn't seem to stay still. They rubbed at Lex's shoulders, thumbs traced the hollows under his collarbone, fingers splayed across the back of his neck. "You're just careful. And I like that about you. I really like you, Lex. Even if we weren't--" He pressed his warm palm flat against Lex's chest, right over his heart. "I'd still want to be your friend."

It was, without doubt or comparison, the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him, and the best part was that Clark actually meant it.

Lex rested his forehead against Clark's. "Can I make love to you?"

"Yes." Clark licked his lips. "Please. I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you, too. And I love you. More than I've ever loved anyone."

He spent the rest of the night showing Clark just how much he meant it.

Tucker's people had a flair for drama. Lex had to give them that. The next day when they arrived with their "top secret research" it looked more like LexCorp was receiving a shipment of gold bullion. They showed up in armored sedans, a veritable army of them, wearing dark suits, dark glasses, ear pieces like Secret Service agents, their guns obvious beneath their jackets. The "Secret Recipe," the rather silly code name they'd given the phony project, was locked up in an attach case, which was handcuffed to Tucker's wrist, a particularly nice touch, Lex thought.

They marched grim-faced into Lex's office, keeping up the charade until the door was closed.

Lex arched an eyebrow at Tucker, who shrugged. "We wanted to make sure we got his attention. Besides, we're dealing with an amateur. His entire sense of these things comes from spy movies."

"Well, you certainly managed to capture that 007 spirit," Lex said, dryly.

Tucker cleared his throat. "Right. So time to move on to the next phase. You know what to do?"

Lex nodded and handed him a set of keys. "Nobody else has access to the conference room where you set up your equipment. I'll meet you there as soon as I finish here."

Tucker nodded, signaled his team. They put their game faces back on and headed out to the elevator as if they were actually leaving. The makeshift surveillance room was one floor down.

Lex buzzed Marvin. "I'm waiting for an extremely urgent call from Cadmus. Otherwise I'm not to be disturbed."

"Uh, yes, Mr. Luthor," he said, nervously. "Sure thing."

A few moments later, Marvin buzzed him. "Um, Mr. Luthor?" His voice was even shakier than usual. "Here's that call you were waiting for." He put through one of Tucker's associates who was playing the part of a Cadmus researcher.

He picked up, knowing he wasn't the only one listening. "Luthor."

"We have the results in from the latest round of tests on the "Secret Recipe," and it was a complete success. This formula just might revolutionize the industry."

Lex rolled his eyes. Tucker's people really liked to lay it on thick. "Can you send me documentation?"

"We'd rather show you in person. As soon as possible."

"Fine. I'll come now. Make sure you keep everything under lock and key. We still haven't found the leak, and we can't take any chances."

"Understood."

They hung up. Lex opened the attach case, took out the phony papers and laid them right in the middle of his blotter so even a moron couldn't miss them. He grabbed his coat and the keys to his office and put on his impatient air as he headed out.

He made a big production of locking his door. "Something urgent has come up. I'll be out at Cadmus the rest of the day. Put anything important through to my cell or blackberry."

Marvin nodded, wide-eyed. "Sure, Mr. Luthor. Um-- Have a nice evening?"

It took real discipline to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "Yeah. You too."

He got on the elevator. Marvin watched him, trying to look as if he wasn't paying attention. Lex hit the button and went down to the next floor. He knocked at the conference room, and Tucker let him in.

"No action yet."

Lex stood behind the technician and watched the monitor over his shoulder. It didn't take long.

Marvin checked his watch a couple of times, so nervous the perspiration stains under his arms were noticeable even on the video. Finally, he opened his backpack, took something out and went over to the door.

"That little fuck made a duplicate key to my office." Lex could feel his blood pressure ratcheting up a few points. If he got out of this without having a stroke it would be something of a miracle.

"An assistant is the perfect mole. They have access to virtually all the information coming into your office. And they have plenty of opportunity to observe things like where you keep your keys."

"June is never having another baby. I don't care what she and her husband think."

Marvin snuck into Lex's office and approached his desk. He picked up the papers and leafed through them, frowning. Tucker's people had come up with some techno mumbo-jumbo, absolutely meaningless, but it would look convincing to someone who didn't know better. Lex had to suppress the urge to ram his fist through the monitor as he watched the world's stupidest temp stuff what could have been vital corporate intelligence under his shirt and hurry out of his office with it.

"What now?" Lex asked Tucker.

"Don't worry. We have cameras everywhere."

They tracked Marvin down the corridor. He kept looking around like a nervous wreck and practically jumped out of his skin when the guy with the mail cart passed.

"You'd think a person who looks that suspicious would get somebody's attention," Lex said, composing an inter-office memo in his head about security being everyone's responsibility.

Marvin headed for the copy room, checked that it was empty and furtively xeroxed the document. He hurried back to Lex's office, returned the original and locked up. He shoved the copy into his backpack, turned off his computer and punched the button for the elevator at least a dozen times.

The cameras tracked him downstairs and out the door.

Tucker radioed his team. "Pick him up."

Lex watched as four of his associates swooped down on Marvin before he could make it to his car.

"They'll bring him up here," Tucker told him. "I know you have a few things you'd like to say to him, but I think we'll get farther if you let me do the questioning."

Lex narrowed his eyes. "Are you telling me to leave?" Because that wasn't happening.

Tucker shook his head. "I'd like to have you hovering in the background. Watching, not saying anything, so he has no idea what you're up to. That should make Marvin so jumpy he's actually eager to deal with me, just so he doesn't have to face you."

Lex could see the strategy in it. "All right," he finally agreed, even though he would have liked nothing better than to rip Marvin a new one personally.

A few minutes later, Tucker's people escorted him into the room. His eyes darted around, taking in Lex and all the serious, armed people dressed in black lined up along the walls. "What is this?"

Tucker nodded toward a chair. "Have a seat, Marvin."

"I don't know what's going on here, but I need to get home. I have--" His eyes shifted. "People. There are people expecting me."

Tucker nodded. "Hopefully this won't take long."

"Well--" Marvin was clearly reluctant, but he did sit down. "Okay. I guess I can spare a few minutes."

"I appreciate that." Tucker sat down across from him. "Actually, you can save us all a lot of time and trouble if you just come clean right now."

Marvin's face went pale. "What are you talking about?"

"We know you stole documents from Mr. Luthor's office."

"I didn't! I would never do something like that!"

Tucker nodded to one of his employees who took possession of Marvin's backpack.

Marvin jumped to his feet. "Hey! That's my personal property. You can't just--

Tucker's associate pulled out the sheaf of papers and handed it to his boss.

"For the eyes of Lex Luthor only," Tucker read from the front page. "I think you'll want to sit back down now."

Marvin sank weakly onto the chair, but remained stubborn. "I don't know how that got in there. I swear!"

"Really," Tucker said coolly. He picked up a remote control, hit a button, and the video they'd made earlier in the day started to play.

Sweat beaded along Marvin's upper lip. "I still don't know what you're talking about."

"That's a good story. You stick to that. It's going to take you far, all the way to Beckman penitentiary after the jury sees this video of you sneaking into Mr. Luthor's office, making a copy of top-secret research and leaving the building with it."

"Prison?"

"I guess your buddies over at LuthorCorp failed to mention that economic espionage is a felony, huh? That's some serious time you're facing. And somebody like you in state prison--" He looked Marvin up and down. "Well, you're going to have quite an interesting experience."

"Oh, God." Marvin looked like he might actually throw up.

Tucker leaned in, his voice relenting a little. "Look, I know this wasn't your idea. I bet you've never done anything wrong in your entire life."

"No! No, I haven't."

"I don't want to see the wrong person take the fall here, Marvin. I really don't. So this is what I'm going to do for you. You come with us down to our office and answer our questions. Tell us everything you know. Help us catch whoever is really responsible. And I'm thinking this jail time could all go away."

Marvin looked up, surprised. "Really?"

He nodded. "A definite possibility."

"But I don't have to come with you, do I? I mean, it's up to me, right?"

"Absolutely. I'm a private security consultant hired by Mr. Luthor. I'm not a police officer, and neither is anyone else in this room." He reached for the phone. "We can call the police, though, if you'd feel more comfortable going through official channels. Of course then there's nothing I'll be able to do for you."

"No, no." He grabbed Tucker's arm. "No police. I'll go to your office. Tell you whatever I know. Just-- no prison. I can't handle that."

Tucker smiled. "You've made the right decision."

He motioned for his people. "These are two of my associates, Adrienne and Daniel. They're going to walk you out to the car. The sooner we get started, the sooner we can have this all sorted out. Okay?"

Marvin nodded, looking a little less scared. "Okay." Tucker's people led him away.

Lex waited until they were safely out of earshot. "No prison time? That moron cost me millions of dollars."

"Relax, Lex. Only the district attorney can make that kind of a deal. You heard me very clearly explain to Mr. Jarvis that I'm in no way affiliated with law enforcement."

Lex regarded him with admiration. "That's very devious."

Tucker shrugged. "We need information. In my experience, people give it more freely when they think they're getting something in return. You want to come down and observe the questioning?"

"I've got to do some damage assessment here. Keep me informed."

"I'll call as soon as I have anything."

Lex let out his breath and headed back upstairs. He'd lost one of the most important developments in environmentally friendly agricultural thanks to Marvin Jarvis. His father must have practically laughed himself to death over that.

He stopped at Marvin's desk and called Clark.

"Hey, I just wanted to let you know I'm going to be late tonight."

"Is everything all right?"

"That's what I have to figure out."

"Um...okay." He sounded puzzled. "Well, I guess I'll see when you get home."

"I love you."

He could hear the smile in Clark's voice. "I love you, too."

Lex spent the next few hours ransacking Marvin's desk, going through every file on his computer, checking sensitive projects for unauthorized access, but he didn't find anything amiss. At least, it appeared Marvin hadn't been able to steal his password as easily as he'd gotten hold of his keys.

In his determination, he lost track of time, and when he finally looked up, it was dark outside, silent in the office. Everyone else had gone home, and Lex's stomach was starting to rumble. He checked his watch. It was after eight. He called Clark back.

"Hey, it's me. I'm heading out now."

"Pizza or Mexican?"

He smiled. "Surprise me." Lex's cell phone rang. "I'm sorry. Can you hold on just a minute?"

"Sure."

He put Clark on hold, answered the other phone. "Luthor."

"Lex, it's Mason Tucker."

"Did he talk?"

"Oh, yeah. Once he got started, he spilled everything. It seems he was approached by LuthorCorp shortly after he started working for you. Marvin has a taste for blackjack but not much luck at it. They offered to bail him out of his financial difficulties in exchange for his help. I've got my people double-checking the story, but I don't have any reason to doubt it. The whole thing tracks. Marvin was desperate for money and in a position to see sensitive information. He was the perfect mark for them."

"Who did he report to?"

"He had contact with a Senior VP over there and a couple of people below him. That's as far up the food chain as we can prove it goes. Your father--"

Lex ground his teeth together. "Will deny knowing anything. It was completely unauthorized. An ambitious senior executive making a grab for corporate power."

"Sorry. I wish we could have nailed him. Oh, but there is one other thing that came out of our interview. No matter how hard we pressed Marvin, and we got pretty tough with him, he always denied knowing anything about the attempt on your life. We need to consider the possibility that it's a separate matter. I very seriously recommend increasing your security."

"Yes, that's probably a good idea. I'll check in with you in the morning." Lex's mind raced with possibilities he didn't like to consider. He hung up with Tucker and took Clark off hold. "Sorry about that."

"That's okay. Is everything all right?"

There were a lot people who had reasons to go after him, but the fact that Clark was with him the night of the hit-and-run had his instincts screaming at him. "I'm not sure what's going on yet, but I think we need to--"

All the lights suddenly went out, as if someone had flipped the circuit breaker, plunging the entire office into darkness.

"Lex?"

His heart started to pound. "You need to listen very carefully. Go to my study, take the top drawer out of the desk. There's a piece of paper taped to the bottom of it with instructions. I need you to follow them exactly. You're in danger, but my people will get you to safety."

"Why--"

"Someone knows about you. Knows your secret."

There was silence for a moment and then, "What about you?"

"I'm sorry." His throat clenched. "I love you, Clark." The beam of a flashlight caught him in the eyes, blinding him, and he quickly hung up.

"Checking in with the boyfriend, huh? That's very touching."

"Phelan."

He laughed, an ugly sound. "You know, I've been waiting for this for a long time."

"How flattering."

"Don't overestimate yourself, Lex. You're just the obstacle, not the object."

Lex swallowed hard, didn't answer.

Phelan smiled. "Oh, yes. You know what I'm after. Don't even try to deny it. All that time I kept you waiting on the investigation? All those weeks I spent in Smallville? I discovered a lot of interesting things that I didn't put in my report."

"Whatever you think you know, it's not--"

"Oh, but it is. More than you probably even realize. Did you know he's saved the lives of half the people in his hometown? In some pretty mysterious ways, too. Do you know when he showed up at his adoptive parents'? Right after the meteor storm. You know what they say about the meteor storm out in Smallville, Lex? They say something came down in it. A ship."

"That's insane. You can't really believe--"

"I've seen what he can do for myself. That little accident you had out in Mayburn? I knew he wouldn't care about hiding his abilities if you were in danger. You should see the damage he did to that car." He laughed. "And to think, nobody in Smallville ever put it together, never even asked any questions. But then, a lot of weird things happen around there. I guess your boy blends in pretty well. It took an outsider to figure out the truth."

Lex glared icily. "What's my father paying you?"

"Lex, Lex. Do you really think your father would have you killed? He may be a cold-blooded bastard, but he still needs an heir. Besides, there will be a lot of potential buyers interested in a commodity like your super-strong alien boyfriend. I just need to secure the merchandise, and then I can start entertaining bids."

"You fucking bastard!"

Phelan shrugged. "Hey, we weren't all born rich. Some of us have to make our money the old-fashioned way." He pointed the pistol's barrel at Lex's chest. "I do really appreciate your father's venture into corporate espionage, though. It makes the perfect cover story. I can see it in the papers now. CEO killed in late-night office break-in." He cocked the gun. "Good-bye, Lex."

He knew from experience what to expect, the sharp crack, the bright flash, the burning stink of death on its way. Instead, though, there was a loud shattering of glass as something crashed through the window, sending a shower of debris across the room, knocking Phelan off his feet, the gun sailing across the floor.

Clark scrambled to his feet. "Are you all right, Lex?"

He stared. "Yes, but--" His office was on the forty-second floor.

"The boyfriend comes to the rescue. Isn't that sweet?" Phelan had gotten to his feet, too. "But there was one other thing I forgot to mention, Lex." He pulled a box out of his pocket and opened it, something green inside glowing in the darkness. "Your boy wonder does have one weakness." He took out an odd-looking rock and shoved it into Clark's jacket pocket.

Clark's face went sickly pale, and he broke out in a sweat. He staggered forward, taking a step toward Phelan, as if to try to disarm him, but then he lurched unsteadily on his feet and collapsed to the floor.

"Clark!" Lex knelt beside him, fingers scrabbling at his pocket, trying to get the rock out.

Then his eye fastened on the gun a few feet away, and he knew it was their only real chance. He lunged for it, and Phelan did, too. They both got a hand on it. Lex held tightly and tried to pry Phelan's fingers off. Phelan punched him in the stomach, but Lex wouldn't let go. He kicked at Phelan's legs, trying to force him away, but it knocked them both off balance. Their hands slipped on the gun, and it went off with a deafening bang.

"Lex!" Clark yelled weakly.

Phelan's eyes went wide, his face white with shock as a dark stain spread over his shirt. "Why'd you have to do that, Lex?" He crumpled to the floor.

For a moment, Lex couldn't move, the strong taste of bile in the back of his throat. All the things he'd done in his life, and he never thought he'd kill anyone.

"Lex?" Clark's fading voice jolted him out of his shock, and he spun around.

"God! Clark." He quickly pulled the rock out of his pocket and threw it across the room.

"Not far enough," Clark said, gasping, his body shaking.

Lex hauled him to his feet, supporting his weight, and walked him out of the office to the elevator. He pulled out his phone and called his driver. "I need the car here right away." And then dialed Tucker. "Get over here. We've got a problem."

"We have to call the police," Clark said, slumping heavily against the wall of the elevator as they rode downstairs.

"I will. I just have to take care of a few things first."

The elevator opened in the lobby. The security guard lay dead behind the desk, more of Phelan's handiwork. Lex walked Clark out to the curb, and thankfully the limo soon pulled up. The driver leaped out and hurried around to open the door. Lex helped Clark into the back seat.

"Take him home," he told his driver. "Make sure he gets up to the apartment. He's not feeling well."

"Of course, Mr. Luthor."

"And you were never here tonight. Mr. Smith never left the penthouse. Understand?"

The driver nodded very seriously. "Yes, sir. I understand."

Lex bent down to Clark. "Go home. Get some rest." He brushed his hair tenderly away from his forehead. His skin still felt hot. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"But, Lex, I'm a witness. It was self-defense. I have to tell the police," Clark protested.

"Sssh." He closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to Clark's temple. "Don't worry about anything. It's going to be fine. I'll take care of it."

He closed the door and nodded to his driver, who got in and pulled out, just as Tucker was pulling in.

Tucker watched the limo receding in the distance and shot a curious glance at Lex, but he didn't comment. "What do you need?"

"Go here." He pulled out a pen and scribbled Phelan's address on a piece of paper. "I need the place swept. Get rid of everything that might have anything to do with me."

Tucker nodded. He glanced at the blood on Lex's shirt and then up at the building, at the broken window. "I could have another team take care of whatever's inside."

"No. I'll handle that. Just see to the other thing."

Tucker hesitated. "You're sure?" Lex nodded. "Okay. I'll be in touch in a few days after the heat's died down."

Lex headed back inside. On the way up to his office, he called the police, took a deep breath, and then made the call he really dreaded.

It was hours later when Lex finally made it home, utterly exhausted. He shrugged out of his coat, tossed it on a chair along with his briefcase. The apartment was quiet. He headed straight to the bedroom. Clark was huddled under the covers, but still awake.

Lex went to him. "How are you feeling?"

"Better."

He checked Clark's forehead. He didn't feel feverish anymore. "Good." He gently stroked his hair.

"Are you all right?"

Phelan's death grimace flashed before his eyes, and his hands shook a little. But he said, "I'm fine."

He undressed, slipped into bed and pulled Clark into his arms, closing his eyes, holding him tight. All the other ways this evening could have ended would give him nightmares for the rest of his life. But right now, he just wanted to concentrate on what was good, what was important, how thankful he was that they were both here, alive and still together.

"Was it okay with the police?"

He nodded. "They asked me some questions, and I need to go down to the station tomorrow morning and make a formal statement."

"But they don't think--"

"No. It's clearly self-defense. It was Phelan's gun. He shot the security guard, cut the circuit breaker. I'm not going to have any problems with the police. I just have to make sure your name stays out of it. That's my only concern."

"About tonight-- I can explain."

He turned onto his side to look Clark in the eye. "You don't have to explain anything to me."

"But I do, Lex." He twisted his hands nervously in the bedclothes. "Um. The thing is-- I'm not--"

Lex stopped him with a kiss. "Anything you have to tell me I'm sure I already know, and it doesn't matter anyway. The only important thing is that I love you."

"Lex," Clark sighed against his lips, hands moving restlessly over his back.

"I'll never let anyone hurt you. Ever," he whispered. "I swear to God."

He held Clark's hand and moved with him, skin to skin, body against body, murmuring words of love. He just wished it hadn't taken him so long to tell Clark how much he meant to him.

The next morning came much too quickly. Lex didn't want to move, didn't want to open his eyes. He wanted to stay just like this, with Clark safe and close and his.

He sighed. But there were things to be done. The police were waiting, and he had to prepare his staff for the onslaught of news vultures that would descend as soon as word got out about the shooting. And, of course, there was the other thing, the most important item on the agenda, the one part of his day he would have given anything to skip.

He pressed a kiss to Clark's forehead, slid out of bed and went to get ready. When he came back, Clark was stirring. He opened his eyes and smiled up at Lex.

"Do you have to go?"

He leaned down for a kiss. "I'm afraid so. The police are expecting me, and I'll need to do some spin control with the press."

Clark sat up. "I really wish you'd let me--"

"No." His tone didn't allow for argument. He cupped Clark's cheek in his hand. "But there is something you can do for me."

"Anything."

"Meet me for lunch?"

Clark's grin was quick and warm. "Sure."

"Good." He pushed a stray curl behind Clark's ear. "After I finish with the police, I have some other appointments. How about if I meet you in Memorial Square by the monument? Say about 12:30?"

"Okay." Clark blinked up at him, his expression sweet and a little sleepy, eyes warm with affection, and Lex wanted to remember this moment for the rest of his life, when happiness seemed like something more than an abstract concept.

He wrapped his arms around Clark and hugged him. Clark rubbed his back and made soft little comforting noises, and Lex finally had to make himself let go.

Clark frowned. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine." He cleared his throat. "I just-- I want you to know that I'll always love you, no matter what."

Clark's eyes lit with tenderness. "I love you, too."

He gathered Clark's face in his hand for one last kiss. "Goodbye, Clark."

He turned and walked away and didn't look back. Because if he did, he'd never be able to go. Never be able to do what he had to.

At police headquarters, a detective showed him into an interview room. His lawyer was already there.

Randolph stood up. "I got your message. What the hell happened, Lex? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I just want to get through this and get out of here. I'm sure there's a mess waiting for me at the office."

Randolph hesitated. "I can see you through a routine interview, but if they seem to have any serious concerns-- I'll have to stop the questioning, and we'll need to get you an experienced criminal attorney. The last time I defended anyone was in moot court back in law school."

"It was self-defense, Randolph. He came after me. We struggled over the gun, and I was the lucky one. That's it, the whole story."

Randolph gave him a hard look. "If you say so." He'd known Lex long enough to realize things were rarely as simple as they appeared at first glance.

Two homicide detectives joined them, and they all sat down at the table. The detectives rattled off their questions, and Lex answered them on autopilot. He was too distracted by what lay ahead to really focus and too numb from the night before to actually feel anything as he recounted the events leading up to Phelan's death. Finally, it was over, and they stood up and shook hands.

"We just need to wait for forensics, but as long as the physical evidence supports your story, Mr. Luthor, I don't see any reason this won't be ruled a justified shooting," the senior detective told him.

Lex nodded and thanked him, and the officers left.

"Well, that was strangely easy," Randolph said.

"I told you."

"I'd still like to have a criminal law firm on standby just in case."

Lex nodded. "Sounds like a smart idea. You have one in mind?"

"Carter, Finkle and Brown. They've represented other clients of mine. They're very good."

"Fine. Retain them."

Randolph pulled on his coat. "I'll be in touch."

Lex arrived at work to find barely controlled pandemonium. Reporters were camped out all over the front sidewalk and mobbed him as he started to make his way toward the door.

"Mr. Luthor, can you tell us what happened?" someone called out.

"How did you know Sam Phelan?"

"Is it true that this was all part of a plot to steal industrial secrets from LexCorp?"

A security team hurried out to meet him and escorted him into the building, clearing a path through the jostling throngs of reporters and cameramen. Upstairs, he found a young woman he recognized as an assistant in the PR department sitting at the desk outside his office, frantically trying to answer the phone as it rang off the hook, scribbling messages as quickly as she could.

She handed him a stack of pink slips. "I hope they're legible."

"It's going to be a tough day," he told her. "Just do the best you can."

She smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Mr. Luthor."

He went into his office, sat down at his desk and immediately set to work on damage control. He held a briefing with his PR team to map out a strategy. They decided on a press conference later in the afternoon. His PR chief scheduled phone interviews for him that morning with reporters LexCorp had a cordial relationship with. He edited several drafts of a press release, before finally signing off on it. All the while, he carefully avoided looking at his watch, didn't want to know as the minutes ticked by, taking him closer to the moment he dreaded. But there seemed to be clocks everywhere, something he'd never really noticed before, on his computer and his phone and sitting on his assistant's desk. He just couldn't seem to get away from the inevitable, no matter how hard he tried.

Finally, he had to go. He pulled on his coat and trudged downstairs. His car was waiting for him outside the back entrance, and thankfully there were no reporters there to ambush him. His driver dropped him off a block from Memorial Square.

"Should I wait, sir?"

He shook his head. "I'll call you when I'm ready."

There was a knoll in Memorial Park that looked down over the square. Lex headed for it. He found a place, half-hidden behind a tree, and spotted Clark below. He was standing by the marble obelisk commemorating Metropolis' war heroes, scanning the crowd, looking for Lex. Lex squeezed his hands into tight fists and waited.

It wasn't long before they showed up, the man and woman from the photograph, Clark's parents, rushing across the square, calling their son's name. Even from that distance, every detail was clear, relief lighting up their faces when they saw him, the strained lines of worry easing, a fierce parental love in the way they held onto Clark as they hugged him, as if he were the most precious thing and they'd never let him doubt that again.

Clark's face froze with shock. He held himself stiffly at first. But his mother whispered in his ear, and gradually his shoulders relaxed and his expression softened. Then he hugged his parents just as fiercely, looking like the kid Lex had never wanted to see in him.

It was yet another reason why this was the right thing. Lex clutched at that conviction as Clark glanced over his mother's shoulder, his gaze seeming to fasten on him, eyes bright with-- betrayal? grief? simple goodbye?

Lex could have just left then. He didn't have to stay for the bitter end, but somehow he couldn't make himself go, didn't want to forfeit even a second they still had together. He watched as Clark turned and went with his parents, back across the square, past the gates, along the street. He desperately went through the whole list of reasons why it had to be this way. Clark was still a kid, and he deserved a normal life, with chemistry classes and school plays and parents who loved him. Lex had always been wrong not to let the Kents know where he was, and now he was finally making up for it.

And the most important reason of all: Clark wasn't safe with him. There was the blare of publicity surrounding the shooting and questions that might be asked and the future Phelans who'd come oozing out of the woodwork to put two and two together and discover Clark's secret, and Lex couldn't risk any of that. Clark would be better off without him, better off blending into the background in a small town than being center stage in the public eye alongside Lex.

It was all true, every point. Lex knew it in his heart. And yet, it was still cold comfort as Clark disappeared out of sight, around a corner, gone from his life for good.

The blare of publicity over the shooting lasted exactly nine days. Nine days of reporters hounding Lex wherever he went, nine days of screaming front page headlines, nine days of people whispering behind his back. Then, on what would have been the tenth day, the star quarterback of the Sharks woke up after a night of blind-drunk partying to find a dead stripper in bed with him. That was the end of any interest in Lex.

He thought maybe he'd hear from Clark after the furor died down, if only to say he was glad it was over, if only to let him know he was okay. But the days turned into weeks and finally into months, and Clark never called.

Of course, this was the way it was supposed to be, Lex had to remind himself, the only safe thing, even if he hadn't expected Clark to accept it so easily. Although when he stopped to think about it, it wasn't really surprising that Clark would get swept up in his old life again, with his parents and friends and school and everything else seventeen year olds were supposed to care about. Maybe he was even glad Lex had let him go, grateful. It didn't matter that just the possibility of this cut Lex to the bone. All that was important was that Clark was safe, that giving him up had been for the best, a necessary sacrifice.

He managed to survive the holidays by working inhumanly long hours. The apartment felt too empty, so quiet it seemed to echo, and he avoided it as much as possible, really only there to sleep and change clothes. He steered clear of the usual social scene, as well. All the holiday parties and charity events he might have attended would just have underscored Clark's absence. The few evenings he did leave work before the wee hours of the morning he spent in a comfortable chair at the Oak Room, sipping his twenty-year-old Scotch, trying not to think about anything at all.

He was passing a quiet Wednesday night this way when he ran into Mitzi for the first time since Clark left.

The hostess was showing her to a table. When she spotted Lex, she made a detour. "Drinking alone?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

He gestured for her to join him, and the waiter materialized with her usual dry martini. "Now I'm drinking with you."

She smiled at him over the rim of her glass. "So I haven't seen much of you lately. Or Clark."

He finished his Scotch and ordered another. "I'm sure you know that Clark is gone." He was not in the mood for games, especially about this.

"You do look as if you've lost your last friend in the world. So--" Her eyes fastened on him curiously. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing."

"That's hardly the fighting spirit."

He sighed. "Mitzi, Clark was a seventeen-year-old prostitute I picked up at a club and paid to be my companion. He's not coming back."

"Finally decided to call his parents, did you? I'm proud of you for doing the right thing. The reunion went well, I hope?"

He could only stare.

Mitzi shrugged. "Clark's a very earnest young man. He worried about any possible embarrassment he might cause me and didn't want to be friends under false pretenses. Said it wouldn't be right. I, of course, was sworn to secrecy." Lex must have looked as surprised as he felt, because her voice turned sharp. "You're not the only one who could see that Clark was special."

He swallowed hard. "I know. I always appreciated that about you."

Her expression softened. "So why haven't you been in touch with him?"

"Clark's better off without me."

"That's not the impression I got when I spoke with him."

It was twice in one conversation that his jaw had dropped, and Mitzi looked rather pleased with herself. "What do you mean you spoke with him? When?"

"Yesterday. He called, ostensibly to apologize for not having said goodbye, but really to pump me for information about you."

"Was he all right? What did he say? He asked about me?"

Mitzi sighed impatiently. "Lex, do you honestly not realize how crazy that boy is about you? Did you think it would just fade away after a couple of months? That once he went to a few dances in the school gym and worked on a science project or two, he'd forget all about you?"

"I--" He looked away. Actually, that was exactly what he'd thought.

"Do you know how many times I've been married, Lex?"

"A few," Lex said politely.

Mitzi smiled. "Six, as I'm sure you're well aware. Some of them were spectacularly bad. Some started off well and then just fizzled. And finally there's Edgar, who is perfectly serviceable."

"No doubt he'd be flattered to hear that."

"No doubt. My point is that people spend their whole lives looking for what you had, and they never find it. Speaking on behalf of all those unfortunates, don't be an idiot. You're a clever businessman with practically limitless resources. Surely you can figure out some way to look out for Clark's best interests without completely cutting yourself off from him?"

"I just want him to have a normal life," he said, a little desperately.

"What does that mean? Have you ever actually known anyone who had a normal life?" She leaned in, her expression very serious. "Look, I'm not saying that you should swoop down and lure him away from his parents. The boy deserves a chance to finish growing up. But be a little creative. Put that genius intellect to work. Come up with something, so you're not both completely miserable. And when Clark comes of age, he can make his own choices about where and how he wants to live, and the two of you can figure things out from there."

He stared at her. "Why do you care so much?"

"To be honest, I'm not even sure. I suppose it's because it's so rare to see two people so clearly meant for each other." She smiled. "I guess I'm more of a romantic than I would have guessed." She finished her drink and stood up. "Well, I've kept Edgar waiting long enough." She nodded. "Lex."

"Mitzi."

It wasn't, in the end, that difficult to put Mitzi's advice into action and come up with a plan to be closer to Clark. All he really needed was a pretext to spend time in Smallville, and as luck had it, his father owned a manure plant and a house there. His father also owed him a sizeable settlement to keep his adventures in industrial espionage out of the courts and off the front pages. Lionel was more than happy to hand over a failing factory and a country house he never used to lighten the cash payout.

The trick, of course, would be keeping the spotlight off Clark, protecting him from people like Phelan. Lex still wasn't entirely sure how he was going to manage that, but as Mitzi had said, he would just have to figure something out.

Once the transfer of ownership went through, Lex headed out to Smallville to inspect his investment and, more importantly, to see Clark. He had not been back since the day of the meteors and was determined not to let it bother him. He was doing fine--fine, he told himself--all the way down Highway 12. So he had the CD player turned up deafeningly loud and was speeding along like he was racing at Le Mans. It didn't mean he was on edge. That was just how he liked to drive.

When he got to the first cornfield, though, it became harder to pretend. He was flooded with sense memories from that day, the way the soft ground shifted beneath his feet as he ran, cornstalks lashing his face, the stink of fertilizer rising up from the dirt making him wheeze, the inferno he couldn't outrun no matter how hard he pushed his shaking legs, the impossible heat on his skin, stench of his own burning hair choking him as he lost consciousness.

A fine sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead. There was a service station up ahead, and he pulled in, went around to the bathroom, locked the door and threw cold water on his face. His father had taught him a few things that he still believed. One of them was that you always had to face your demons eventually.

He pumped gas and went inside to pay. "How far is it to the turn off for the LuthorCorp factory?" he asked.

The man behind the counter was dressed in a flannel shirt and a John Deere cap, chewing what Lex feared was tobacco. He looked Lex up and down, glanced out the window at the Ferrari with the "Lex1" license plate, handed him back his credit card and receipt, but didn't answer his question.

"Thank you," Lex said, dryly. "You've been helpful." Thanks to his father, apparently all Luthors were persona non grata in this county.

Fortunately, a little further down the road there was a large sign pointing the way to the factory. Unfortunately, when he got there, he understood his father's sly smile when he'd demanded it as part of their deal.

He was met by the plant manager, Gabe Sullivan. He shook Lex's hand rather nervously. "I'd be happy to show you around, Mr. Luthor, if you'd like?"

"Call me Lex. And, yes, I would like that."

The factory was in even worse shape than he'd feared. The physical structure had not been properly maintained. Production was hampered by outdated equipment and inefficient processes. As he introduced himself to his new employees, they nodded civilly, but there was a look in their eyes that he recognized too well, the effect his father always had on his workforce. They were scared shitless. LuthorCorp was the major employer in town, and these people had husbands and wives, children, mortgages. They couldn't afford to lose their jobs. No doubt, they thought this takeover meant the worst for them.

Lex hoped to show them differently, but when he took a look at the books he wasn't quite so optimistic. He closed his eyes and imagined his father having yet another laugh at his expense.

"I know it looks pretty bad." Gabe shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I worked up some ideas for how we could improve things, but your father never seemed very interested--"

"Have your proposal on my desk tomorrow morning."

Gabe blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I'm not my father, and I am interested in making this place profitable. So let's go over your plans first thing tomorrow and see what we've got. I just have-- There's something else, something important, I need to do right now."

"Absolutely, Mr. Luthor." His face brightened considerably. "I'll have everything waiting for you."

"Good. And Gabe?"

"Yes?"

"Mr. Luthor is my father. Call me Lex. Okay?"

Gabe's eyes twinkled. "Sure thing, Lex."

Back in the car, he let out his breath. That hadn't gone as badly as it might have. The place was a mess, but he had a feeling Gabe Sullivan was something of a hidden gem. Hopefully, they could start to turn things around.

Gabe had given him directions to the Kent house. He turned down their lane, and a yellow farmhouse came into sight. He had to shut his eyes and open them again, because it was like staring into a Normal Rockwell painting and for a moment, he thought it had to be a mirage. How could anything look so much like a perfect dream of what home was supposed to be?

He parked, walked up on the white-railed porch and knocked.

The red-haired woman from the park, Clark's mother, answered the door. "Yes?" She smiled politely. "Can I help you?"

"I hope so," he said. "I was wondering if your son was at home. I, uh-- We knew each other in Metropolis."

Her face clouded with suspicion, and he felt a flash of panic that maybe she wouldn't let him see Clark at all. "Lex Luthor," she said. "I recognize you from the paper. I hear you've taken over the plant."

"News travels fast."

"It's a small town, Mr. Luthor."

"Lex. Please."

She gave him a long, appraising look before pushing the screen door open. "Would you like to come in for coffee? Then maybe we can see whether Clark is home."

He nodded, understanding perfectly well. If he wanted to see Clark, he was going to have to get past her. "Thank you, Mrs. Kent. That would be nice." He followed her into the kitchen and took a place at the table when she invited him to sit down.

"Milk and sugar?" she asked, pouring his coffee.

"Just black, please."

She handed him a mug and sat down across from him. "So what made you decide to take over the plant from your father?"

Mrs. Kent had an open, kind face, hospitable even in her wariness, but her blue eyes were piercing, filled with the kind of intelligence that took in everything. He felt heat in his face and hoped to God he hadn't chosen this of all moments to start blushing.

"Well, I--" Was he actually stuttering? "It was a good opportunity, a way to diversify LexCorp's holdings."

"With a manure factory?" She smiled skeptically.

Now he was quite sure his face was red. "We are an agribusiness company. And manure is a basic part of agriculture," he said, weakly.

"Ah." She took a sip of her coffee, her expression thoughtful. "I assume you have no children, Lex? You're too young."

"No, ma'am. I don't."

"I know it sounds cliched, but it really is true that until you have children of your own you can't imagine what it's like. How your child is a part of you in this very profound way. Say there was a picture in a newspaper, for instance, blurry and out of focus, only the back of your son's head, from a distance, but still, your son. You'd know it was him instantly, without question. Because he's your child." Her gaze bored into him. "Do you understand what I mean?"

"I think I do." He met her gaze openly. "Would you also be able to see if he was happy and well taken care of and loved?"

She didn't answer, just studied him, and it felt like being under a spotlight. It took every bit of discipline he had not to squirm. She was a formidable woman, no matter how mild she might seem.

"You know, we had an unexpected windfall recently," she finally said. "Someone paid off our farm and sent us the deed anonymously. I don't suppose you know anything about that?"

He looked away. "How would I?"

"It was another anonymous benefactor who arranged for us to meet Clark, to talk, sort things out. I doubt Clark would have agreed to come home otherwise. That's why we never tried to force him. So I owe that person a great debt. And I'd like to think he cares enough about my son to do what's best for him, to let him have his life, and not try to take him away from his family and friends."

"I can't imagine anyone not wanting the best for Clark," he said, gently.

She sat still for a moment, staring into the distance, then she got up and took her coffee cup to the sink. "Clark's out in the barn."

He swallowed hard. "Thank you, Mrs. Kent."

The walk out to the barn was not long, but he was too eager and it felt like an eternity. Inside, he found Clark cleaning out a stall, and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. Clark looked younger dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt than he had in club clothes or the urban couture Lex had bought him, but also more elemental, pure boy, pure Clark, in all his heartbreaking beauty.

All the longing that Lex had barely been holding back hit him then, hard, and he couldn't stop his voice from shaking. "Clark."

He started and turned around. There was a flash of surprised happiness, but then his expression quickly froze over. "What are you doing here?"

Lex had to wonder if Mitzi had somehow gotten it wrong, and he found himself taking the coward's way out. "I had business in the area. I don't know if you heard, but I took over the Smallville plant from my father."

"I heard."

"Also, my family has a house here. I thought it would be a good opportunity to check in on the place," he said feebly.

Clark gave him a hard look. "What do you really want, Lex?"

He tried to force down the painful lump in his throat, but it wouldn't budge. "I just wanted to see you. I thought maybe we could talk."

Clark's eyes flashed. "I got the message loud and clear that day in the park. There's nothing to talk about."

"Clark, you have to understand--"

"Oh, I understand all right." An angry flush spread across his cheeks. "You said it didn't matter, but it did. And now I'm back here, just the way you wanted. So I wish you'd just get out and leave me alone."

Lex frowned, confused. "What are talking about? What mattered?"

"That I'm not--" He stopped, painfully.

"Oh, Clark. Clark. That's not why--"

"Don't lie to me!" He met Lex's gaze with a hot spark of fury. "You sent me away the day after you found out. You think I can't put two and two together?"

"I called your parents because I needed you to be safe, and you wouldn't have been in Metropolis, not with all the publicity surrounding the shooting."

"If that was true, then why didn't you just tell me? Why did you have to go behind my back and make decisions that weren't yours to make?"

"Because Phelan knew about you, and it was all my fault. And if he figured it out, somebody else might, too. And I damn well wasn't going to let anything happen to you because of me."

Clark frowned. "What do you mean it was your fault?"

Lex balled his hands into fists. True confession time, and he always hated that. "I hired Phelan to investigate you when we first got together."

Clark's eyes widened. "What?" And then his expression turned hard. "Never trust a whore, huh? What were you afraid of? That I'd clean out your bank accounts and make a run for the border?"

"Clark, I didn't trust anyone back then. But that wasn't why I hired Phelan, not really."

"No? Then why?"

He took a deep breath. "I just-- I wanted to know you."

Clark's mouth twisted into a bitter line. "Well, that's a hell of a way to do it."

"You wouldn't tell me anything!" He stopped and collected himself. "Look, I'm not saying that what I did was right. It wasn't. But it was before-- Before we got close. And it was really only because--"

"What?"

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You fascinated me, and I wanted you so much. And I thought you were special, from the first moment I saw you, and I wanted to understand who you were. And I'm just screwed up enough to think I could speed that along with a private investigator instead of just letting it happen naturally."

Clark's expression was still wary, but his tone relented a little. "Phelan told you about me?"

"Not at first. Not until that night when he came to--" He couldn't make himself say it. "I'd already realized you had unusual abilities. I just didn't know why."

"And you weren't freaked out?" Clark watched closely for his reaction.

"I don't care where you're from. I'm just glad you're here."

"You still should have discussed it with me. Not just called my parents to come get me like I'm some three-year-old."

"You wouldn't have gone. I know you."

"Maybe not, but that would have been my decision to make."

"And it would have been the wrong one."

Clark glared at him. "Do you have any idea how fucking arrogant that is?"

"Phelan was going to sell you, Clark, to the highest bidder, so they could do God knows what to you." Clark paled, and Lex regretted having to put it so brutally, but Clark needed to hear the truth, needed to understand the danger. "He knew your weakness, knew how to control you. I couldn't take any chances that someone else would put it together, try to do the same thing. Maybe succeed the next time." He let out his breath. "I know you think I should be sorry for what I did, but I'm not. I'd die before I let anything happen to you."

Long moments of silence passed, and then Clark said in a softer voice, "So why are you really here, Lex?"

"There's only one reason I'd ever come back to this place, why I'm the proud new owner of a crap factory in the middle of nowhere."

Clark took a step closer. "Which is?"

Lex reached for him. "Don't you know?"

Four months was not an eternity, certainly not so long that he'd forgotten how it felt to kiss Clark. But the first touch of their mouths was still a surprise of pleasure, how soft Clark's lips were, how warm, the way Clark sighed as he deepened the kiss, how sweet he tasted, like nothing else had ever been sweet. They kissed until Lex's lips tingled from it, and then he hugged Clark to him, pressed his face against his neck and just held on, like someone who'd been pulled back from the brink of a very bleak and lonely future.

Clark whispered against his shoulder, "I missed you so much."

Lex tightened his arms around him. "God. I missed you, too."

He didn't know how long they stood there like that. Forever probably wouldn't have been long enough. Finally, though, the thought of Clark's parents made him let go, although he couldn't bring himself to actually take a step back. Clark had seemed so irretrievably lost to him, as if Smallville was a distant continent and not the next county over, and now that Lex had him back again, he needed to stay close.

"I didn't know you'd been to Smallville before. I thought nobody in your family ever stayed at the mansion."

"They don't, really. I was only here once with my father. It was a long time ago." He wished he hadn't brought up the past. He tried hard to sound casual, but there were some things you just couldn't talk about as if they meant nothing.

Clark knew him too well not to hear the catch in his voice. He frowned. "When exactly were you here, Lex?"

"It doesn't matter."

Clark stared at him and then his expression jolted with realization. "Oh, God. Childhood accident." He stroked a gentle hand over Lex's bare head and looked so sad. "I'm sorry."

He took Clark's hand and kissed it. "Don't. You're not responsible."

"But that was me. I came down in that storm."

"So? That doesn't mean you caused it."

"I'm still sorry you were hurt," Clark said softly.

Lex rested his forehead against Clark's. "And I'm sorry you thought I was sending you away because you're-- not from around here. It was never that. I swear."

Clark wrapped his arms around him. "So you really bought a crap factory just because of me?" Lex felt his smile against his cheek.

"Technically, I didn't buy it. But, yes, the fact that it's conveniently located in your hometown was the primary--okay, the only--inducement to acquire it."

"Does this mean you'll be sticking around then?" Clark shot him a hopeful look.

Lex touched his face, stroked his thumb along his cheek. "I'm not saying it will be full-time, but I do think there are things here that will need my personal attention."

Clark's smile was wide and pleased. "Come on." He took Lex's hand. "There's something I want to show you."

He led Lex up a set of rough-hewn stairs to the loft, which had been lovingly transformed into a refuge for him. There was a couch, a table, a stack of books, a telescope set up at the far end, pointed toward the sky, as if Clark were scanning the stars, looking for some evidence of where he'd come from. The idea of it made Lex's throat close up painfully.

"My father calls it my Fortress of Solitude," Clark said. "Kind of dorky, huh?"

"I think your father sounds like a smart man. Everyone needs somewhere they can be alone."

"That's true." The room spun, and Lex landed on his back on the sofa, with Clark stretched out over him. "Especially for things like this." Clark kissed him, more frenzied than before, more determined.

Every ounce of reason Lex had screamed at him that this was a bad idea. If Clark's parents caught them, they might forbid him to see Clark altogether. Lex's cock, on the other hand, surged painfully against his zipper, only caring that Clark was close and touching him and there was the happy prospect of being naked with him in the near future.

Lex did his best to ignore his cock. "What--" he said, between mouthfuls of Clark's tongue. "Are you doing?"

"Mmm." Clark pressed his face against Lex's neck, breathing him in. "I'm taking care of something that needs my personal attention." He rubbed his thigh against Lex's hard-on.

"God," Lex groaned. "Stop. We shouldn't be doing this here."

Clark pulled off his shirt and flung it to the floor. "You made the decision to send me home to Smallville. So I'm making this decision. It's only fair." He undid the buttons of Lex's shirt, pushing the fabric out of the way, stringing kisses over Lex's chest.

"Clark, your mother already seems kind of iffy about me. If she sees us--"

Clark grinned. "Hey, wait until you meet my father. He's got this grudge against your family, and he owns a shotgun."

"Clark!" He tried to sit up.

Clark bit playfully at his nipple, making him moan. "I'm just kidding." He pushed Lex back down. "Okay, not about the gun or the grudge. But my father's in Grandville today picking up tractor parts. And, anyway, I'd protect you."

He brushed his fingers along Lex's bare sides, rimmed his belly button with his tongue, making Lex shudder.

"You're trying to kill me."

Clark smiled and continued his trip down Lex's belly, kissing and licking and blowing tantalizing little puffs of air over Lex's sensitive skin, making him so desperately hard his eyes started to water. When Clark finally pushed down his zipper and released his straining erection, he sighed in relief. Then Clark bent his head, and Lex's entire body coiled with need, heat everywhere, surrounding his cock, burning in the pit of his stomach, spreading over his skin.

"God!"

Clark pulled off his cock long enough to shush him.

"Easy for you to say," he hissed, as Clark began to trace patterns with his tongue on the underside of his cock.

He let Lex's erection slide from his mouth, and Lex had to dig his fingernails into his palms to keep from making loud sounds of disappointment.

Clark rubbed his head against Lex's belly. "At least you've been in Metropolis where there are actual gay people. I've been here."

"Clark." He stroked his hair. "I haven't been with anybody since you left. I don't want anyone else."

Clark lifted his head, startled, and then heat flared in his eyes. He braced himself on his arms over Lex and kissed wildly until Lex's lungs burned and the blood pounded in his ears.

"I love you," Clark whispered against his lips.

Lex smiled, the desperate clench he'd felt in his chest since he'd let Clark go finally relaxing. "I love you, too."

Clark fumbled with his own fly and pushed his pants and underwear down over hips. Lex spread his legs, and Clark settled between them. They kissed and murmured tender sweet things and rocked their bodies together, too greedy for one another to make it last long. Lex gripped Clark's shoulders, and Clark called his name, and they both came, tangled messily around one another.

Clark reached over to the nearby table for tissues and cleaned them both up. They straightened their clothes, but Clark didn't get up, wouldn't let Lex up, either. He rested his head on Lex's chest, and it was so quiet and everything smelled warm and clean and like Clark, and Lex was pretty certain he'd never been happier in his whole life.

"I've been lonely without you," Clark said in a quiet voice.

Lex pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Haven't things been okay at home?"

Clark fiddled with the button on Lex's shirt. "I guess you could say it's been complicated."

"You want to tell me?"

"Well-- Mom says she doesn't blame me for what happened with the baby, but sometimes-- And then, I told my parents the truth, you know, about being gay. My dad says he's okay with it, but he's always trying too hard and that makes me think he's really not all that okay. People at school think I'm even weirder than they did before. And most of my friends are still mad at me."

Lex stroked his fingers along Clark's forearm. "I'm sorry. It sounds like it's been a hard adjustment."

"I knew it would be. You can't go away like I did and come home and expect everything to be the same. I'm not the same. Why should anything else be? That's really the worst part. There's so much I can't tell people about what I did in Metropolis that it feels like I'm pretending about who I am. It would be so much better if you were here. Then I'd have somebody who really knows me."

Lex tightened his arms around him. That he was the one person Clark trusted to understand didn't just make his day, it made his entire life. But his conversation with Mrs. Kent had been a promise, and so had the one with Mitzi, for that matter. He had to let Clark finish growing up, keep enough distance so Clark could have a full life, not get totally wrapped up in their relationship.

"We'll need to take things slow. Be very careful."

"Seventeen is legal in Kansas. And I'll be eighteen soon, anyway."

"That's not what I'm worried about, Clark. It's not easy being out in a community that's not very gay-friendly. Not to mention that there's little love lost around here for anyone with my last name. You shouldn't be known all over town as Lex Luthor's boyfriend. Plus, you need time to finish working things out with your friends and family. I don't want our relationship to overshadow that. And most importantly, we can't attract outside attention about what I'm doing in Smallville. It has to just seem like business. Otherwise, it won't be any safer for you here than it was in Metropolis."

Clark's expression darkened. "It sounds like you don't want to spend time with me at all."

Lex squeezed his shoulder. "You know that's not true. I'm just saying let's be cautious about it."

Clark propped himself up on his elbow and studied him, and then his expression softened. "How do you feel about organic produce?"

Lex blinked. "Um. I'm not against it?"

He grinned. "Good. Because I make deliveries on Wednesdays and Fridays. It's a good excuse for me to come see you. So you'll need to order a lot of artichokes." He bent his head for a kiss. "Thank you for saving the farm, by the way. It would have broken my parents' hearts to lose it."

Lex ran his fingertips lightly along Clark's jaw. "I didn't do it for them."

Clark's eyes filled with warmth, and he leaned in for more kisses. The spark of longing between them reignited, press of bodies, mingled breath, clutching fingers, rough panting as they moved against one another, trying desperately to get closer, as if they wanted to crawl inside each other's skin.

"Clark!" Mrs. Kent's voice rang out.

They broke apart like a shot.

"Yeah, Mom?" he called back down to her, nervously pulling at the hem of his shirt, trying to pull it down over his erection.

"It's dinnertime."

"Okay. I'll be there in a few minutes."

Lex scrubbed his hands over his face, his heart pounding. He couldn't remember the last time someone's mother had almost caught him in the act. "Okay, so from now on we only do this at my house." He stood up and tried to smooth the wrinkles from his pants.

"I've always been curious to see the inside of the mansion." Clark took his hand and led him back downstairs.

"Won't people in town think it's strange, though? That a businessman from Metropolis and a high school student know each other?"

"We just need a believable story. Like you drove your car off a bridge or something, and I rescued you."

"That's believable?"

"You'd be surprised." Clark walked him outside.

"So what are you going to tell your parents?"

Clark shook his head. "I really don't know yet."

"I'm pretty sure your mother already knows."

"Yeah, there's not much I can hide from her. She is my mother."

He touched Clark's arm, worried. "I don't want this to come between you and your family."

"It won't. I promise. My parents want me to be happy." He rested his hand on the back on Lex's neck, thumb moving in lazy circles. "And I'm so glad you're here I can't even tell you."

He smiled. "Me, too." He cast a glance around. There were cows watching them from the other side of the fence, chickens clucking around the barn, a silo in the distance. It made his Ferrari look like something from another planet. "So, this is Smallville, huh?"

Clark grinned. "This is it."

Lex gathered Clark's beautiful face in his hands and looked into his eyes, like a promise. "I already feel at home."