Many thanks to Digitalwave, Justabi, and Pepperjackcandy. Without these ladies, neither Kronus nor Jupiter would have happened. Thanks for believing in 'What if...'.

Dis Pater: Jupiter

/// Six years had passed since Lex had last seen Smallville- the place that was the background of the nightmares of his youth, and had become the graveyard of his last true happiness.///

Lex closed the front door behind him, slid his damp overcoat off and dropped it over a hook on the coat tree.

"Hey, there you are," he heard from the direction of the living room. "Raining out?"

Lex shrugged. "Sprinkling a bit. Chilly." He walked from the short hallway into the gray living room.

"Come here, honey. Sit next to me, I'll warm you up."

Lex came around the couch and slid next to him, tilting his head back so he could have his throat kissed.

He bit him. Lex waited, sitting still until Lucas let go.

"Look at the screen." Lucas pointed at the image; a news broadcast, some woman was interviewing a man in an odd costume. "He looks like those freaks from Gotham," Lucas snickered. "Apparently, this bozo is swearing to serve and protect Metropolis from the likes of the Luthors and other depraved criminal minds." He laughed and slid his hand between Lex's knees and stroked the inside of his leg, his eyes on the screen.

Lex watched his hands move over his knees, move up his thighs. "He mentioned us by name? Just us?" Metropolis was lousy with corruption, yet he singled out the Luthor name?

"Yeah he mentioned us. Not only that, he went on and on like we'd fucked his sister and left her naked ass on the curb."

Lex winced and tried to shift away from Lucas, but Lucas grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him back. The segment was just ending; the dark-haired reporter was referring to the man as `Superman.'

Lucas snorted. "Superman, my ass. We've got to check this freak out. He's not going to throw a monkey wrench in our business. We've finally got our overseas labs running at a profit, and our South American contacts are paying off at last...holy fuck!" He jerked upright. "Did you see that? He just flew away! Flew into the fucking air!"

"What?" Lex looked up from his lap. "He flew...."

"Yeah, fuck---he flew into the sky. Jesus, just like those comics you used to read all the time, remember? Warrior something?" Lucas got off the couch and grabbed the phone. "We need to find out all we can about this guy. We need to head him off, right? I'm going to call Housekeeping, see what they can get on this bastard."

Lex nodded, "Yes, of course." Inside, his mind jumped and jittered from thought to thought. Warrior Angel?* He helps the innocent-*-* I'm not innocent--he's all about righting wrongs.* My whole life is a series of wrongs.* Maybe he'll help me--how do I find him--can I get away--Superman--*

Lucas' voice broke into his frantic thoughts, calmed him down. "Honey, go take a shower and meet me in the bedroom. I need to work off some frustration." Lucas smiled at him. "I got you a present..."

Lex rose and headed to their bathroom, dropping pieces of clothing as he went. The maid would take care of it. Lucas paid her an outrageous amount of money, let her earn it.

Lucas' little gift made him happy, made him float. He was drifting in and out, not completely in one place or time, hanging on by a thread, fucked out but Lucas was hard again and wanted more.

The little gift made him think it was a good idea; Lex squirmed under his weight, Lucas' teeth were in his shoulder, his fingers in his ass. His body reacted even as his mind was sliding away. Lucas' dick slid and dug into his stomach, and he grabbed it, held it tight against his own. Lucas circled Lex's hand with his, making a snug tunnel that he thrust into, rubbing their dicks together. They slid and caught and throbbed against each other.

Their hands were wet and slick and Lucas' fingers tightened around Lex's. He grunted, "Yeah, that's good, baby, that's good..." He thrust harder and harder and Lex began panting, the sensations ran through him like fire, any minute he was going to come, in a second he was going to come, it hurt and he was going to come...

Lucas threw his head back and yelled, coming over Lex's hand, splashing hot and slick on his stomach and Lex shuddered with the force of his own orgasm. He felt light, relieved, relaxed--for a moment--and then he was back. Lucas was kissing his temple and telling him he loved him, and Lex tried to look...content.

Lex woke up alert and aware, a little too much so. Lucas was sound asleep, snoring gently and twisted in the black sheets of their bed. Lex slid out, padded naked to the living room. He didn't want to be quite this clear-headed. He'd have to fix that.

He poured scotch into a tumbler, sipped it as he walked over to the balcony doors, pressed his hand against the cold glass. No one could see him here, no one could look in. Lucas paid a lot of money to look out over the city without being looked at. Lucas paid a lot of money for everything they had. Lex grinned down at the drink in his hand. Lucas paid a lot of money to keep Lex sane. Or close to it. He laughed and gulped down most of the contents of his glass and nearly choked it all up again.

Clark!

Clark was looking in through the glass at him. Lex blinked. "Oh, Lucas," he whispered, "I think it's time for another brain scrub..." He tilted the glass up, and over the rim, watched his reflection do the same. He looked thin, pale. Through his reflected image he could still see Clark. Clark looked...angry.

Clark's face floated before him, but unlike his usual dreams... hallucinations... he wasn't smiling and explaining that he forgave him. His hair was swept back and...a look of hatred twisted his face, made his beautiful lips into a sneer...He took another sip and wondered if this time Lucas would just have to let him go.

He smiled at the face in the glass and suddenly it burst outwards, glass flew at his face and around his head and he screamed at the sudden stinging pain. He staggered back--he'd come through the glass--it was that--that--Warrior Angel guy, the superman.

"Don't--don't kill me," he gasped.

"I'm not a killer, I stop madmen like you Luthors from doing that." The voice was Clark's; the face was Clark's, the attitude was--

"Some fascist ubercop."
He gasped. Had he said that? But that wasn't true. Clark was a hero. Lucas was behind him; his hand came down on his shoulder. He'd spoken. "That's what you are, freak."

The Angel stared at them both with an expression of loathing. "You don't deserve to live, either of you. You haven't changed at all. You're both beneath contempt. Disgusting."

Lex tried to speak. Clark, can you help me but Lucas stepped in front of him, his arms curved backwards in a protective gesture. "Get out. Before I have you arrested for trespassing."

The Angel laughed and folded his arms over his broad chest. "That's something you're good at, isn't it? Twisting the law to suit you. Enjoy it while you can--I will destroy you, the way you destroyed..." Lex looked at him wide-eyed, faint with horror. "The way you destroyed a good friend of mine," he finished gruffly, and then he was gone.

"I'll show you arrogant, you fucking bastard!" Lucas yelled after him and then focused on Lex, "Did he hurt you, that son-of-a-bitch, are you okay?" He grabbed Lex, checked him, made sure that he was okay before leaving him. Blood was crusting on his skin; the small cuts were already healing.

Lex giggled half hysterically and jumped when the curtains waved and flapped in the breeze from the open balcony door. Lucas came back to the living room a washcloth in his hand.

"Lex?" he asked. Lucas looked at him, concern and annoyance and worry on his face and he moved closer. "Lex, are you..."

Lex walked over to him, put his hands on his shoulders and kissed his cheek. "I'm fine," he said. He slid downwards, until he was on his knees, and he blew him in front of the open balcony door. II
/// Another year passed, in which Superman became well known and relied upon by the inhabitants of Metropolis, the city that became known as Superman's City--of course in some places, the darker places, it was known as Luthor's City....///

Lex bent over the gritty line of powder on the piece of glass, held a finger over one nostril and inhaled, hard. He held his nose and tipped his head back, sniffed hard and licked his lip, snickered a little to himself, thinking of Lucas, and what he was doing at the moment. Hard at work, making money, money, money. Building up the Luthor Empire, making a safe, happy little nestcagecell for dear brother. He grinned.

Making the world safe, one drug cartel at a time. Or was it the weapons guys today--what the fuck. Tomorrow they had a meeting with the government son of a bitches. The ones worried about Superman. He laughed again, and swung off the couch. He wandered into the kitchen, the silk robe flowing around his legs, the tie trailing over the ground behind him. He twitched it like a tail and grinned to himself. So fucking funny...he floated in a warm haze, feeling calm and heavy and peaceful, as if everything was the way it was supposed to be--and if it wasn't so fucking what.

He leaned over, staring into the open fridge and scratched a hand down his bare chest and over his leg. He was pretty sure he'd stuck a bottle of champagne in here last night...ah. There it was. He looked at the label. It was some half ass mediocre stuff that cost a small fortune and tasted like shit, but Lucas had taste in his ass. He giggled again. Lucas had taste in his ass.

The lightweight silk fabric streamed out behind him like a cape as he weaved his way back to collapse on the couch. He leaned back and closed his eyes, rubbing his hand slowly against the leather. This morning had been--spectacularly bad. Bad, bad, bad. Lucas had been so enraged about that Superman fuck. So fucking what--he took out a few concerns, so they didn't make a million that week. So what if he burned some poppy fields or made sure a container ship or two didn't make it into Metropolis' ports...they were fucking bloody richer than--Midas. Everything they touched turned to...well shit, but it was gold-plated shit...he broke into uncontrollable giggles, and tipped the bottle up to his lips. He drank a little, scratched idly at an itchy spot under his chin, something was crusted there. He grimaced and ignored it--chased the itch down his throat to his ribs. He tried to drink again, misjudged the distance to his mouth and poured it over his naked chest, it ran into his lap and onto the couch and he laughed. Whops. Looks like Lucas is gonna have to buy a new fucking couch. He got up to move out of the wet spot and flopped down again on the other end of the couch. It was too much trouble to move to the bedroom. He sighed and let his mind fuzz out again.

He turned eyes that went in and out of focus on the unbreakable glass balcony doors. He had no idea if the Angel could break them or not--he knew he couldn't--he'd thrown everything he could heft at those doors. He laughed, breathy little snorting sounds and licked his too dry lips. The bottle was at the opposite end of the couch, too far. Too bored.

He touched his champagne sticky skin, rolling his fingertips across his chest, his nipples, lightly scratching his nails up and down his belly, mildly interested as his dick began to fill and lift slightly and hissed when he inadvertently pressed on a fresh bruise. He looked at the yellowing spot and the trail of healing marks wending their way down his belly and into his crotch. There was a little smear of blood under his navel. He winced at the remembered pain. That had kind of hurt. He stroked his dick, tacky with the splash of champagne; leaned his head against the high back of the couch, spread his legs and looked at his semi-erect penis. He ran his fingers over it, teasing himself a little, remembering Lucas pushing his legs up to his ears, moaning and groaning and stuttering out good, good when he'd tightened his ass around his dick. He knew how to get him off. He could make him come in a minute when he wanted to.

Lex floated on a cloud and jerked his dick slowly. He controlled it, the sex, the whole thing. He gasped and his dick flexed. He made Lucas do what he wanted in bed. And if he wanted Lucas to hurt him, he did that too. Lex arched and snarled, jerked harder. If he wanted Lucas to fuck him until it hurt them both, that's what he did--he squeezed the tip of his dick--if he wanted to, he made him beg for a kiss--he jerked forward and pre-come spilled from the slit as he watched--and he loved it when Lucas punished him for making him beg, for showing how much he had to have him...he closed his eyes and pumped hard, squeezed himself hard and remembered Lucas biting bloody trails down his body, shoving his fingers one by one into his ass, pouring that shit champagne over his hand and pushing, pushing until he was up to the wrist in him and it hurt so bad he screamed and they both came at the same time....

Lex opened his eyes. Come was cooling on his chest and legs. He stood unsteadily and fished a joint out of an antique cigarette box on the table. There was come on the table too. He grinned and lit the joint. Inhaled gratefully.

He picked up the remote for the TV and turned it on as he wandered around the entertainment room, rubbing at the mess on his chest and dribbling ashes over the carpet. He looked at the floor, a fond smile on his face. He remembered picking out that carpet--he'd loved the color. He dropped the joint on the floor and wandered off. "--Luthors."

He drifted towards the TV, what the fuck now? His heart beat harder for a moment--was something going on with Lucas?

He calmed when he realized it was some stupid celeb program--as he watched, an old clip of Lucas and him played on the screen. He even remembered that night--it was a nightclub in Gotham--yep, there was Bruce pushing past him and looking disgusted. Lucas laughing, and yes, he was laughing too. The girls on their arms were a bare step up from hookers and they both looked drunk--fucking stoned out of their minds. The scene cut to another clip---he looked bad in this one, skinny...he ran his hands down his chest and felt ribs like ladders and smiled. His eyes looked like black holes in his too pale face. Lucas looked big--bigger than life. He was heavier than when they'd lived in Smallville, thicker, more thug like, but handsome and smug.

"Fuckable." Lex laughed wildly at his own comment, and the voiceover caught his attention.

"--the Luthors are Metropolis' bad boys. Lex, head of Luthor Corp and his brother Lucas used to regularly shut down the clubs, swimming in seas of Cristal and sex. But in recent times, the openly gay Lex Luthor has become more and more reclusive, rarely seen, while Lucas, the family playboy, has become more prominent. Some say that it's actually Lucas Luthor who runs LuthorCorp, and Lex is merely a figurehead."

Fuck him--fucking...* He grinned coldly and tried to shut the TV off. He fumbled the control, and the sound blared. "There are rumors that the Luthor siblings are this generation's Cray Brothers, involved in mob activities and dirty dealing of every variety. There's been no hard cold facts but investigative reporters Clark Kent and Lois Lane of the Daily Planet have the Luthor's under their scope."

The camera panned over--Lex fell off the couch. Fuck... Clark. He hated seeing him on the screen--it always felt like he was staring at him, hating him so hard he could feel it. He staggered to his feet, and the man on screen spoke, calmly, "Alexander and Lucas Luthor are criminals. Plain and simple. They don't deserve to run free, destroying and corrupting all that's good in this city, and perverting the youth of our city." Lex felt hysterical laughter bubbling up...who was perverting whom?

The screen filed with Lucas' face.

"I have no idea why Clark Kent hates us so--he certainly has a hard on for us, that's for sure. He needs to get over himself." Hard on was bleeped out but Lex knew what he'd said and a twisted smile pulled the corners of his mouth up.

Lucas laughed and moved on, the clip changed and the report continued, some other Metropolis celebrity was being showcased.

Lex turned off the TV. He looked at himself, pulled the sticky silk robe tight around himself and felt his stomach flip slowly. He reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out a handful of pills. He dumped them on the vintage Bauhaus coffee table, while sucking on the bottle, pushed the pills around with one fingertip. He hummed as he made his choice, pretty rolling things all smooth and round and ...he picked out a couple and gulped them, washed them down with the remainder of the flat champagne, and made a face. He wanted to scratch himself, rip and scratch from the inside out; suddenly it all hurt so fucking much it made him faint. He circled the room and moaned and moaned. Fuckers, he was supposed to be feeling good now--what the fuck happened.... He leaned against the cool glass doors of the balcony and the door creaked in the frame and swung open. He stumbled out, and onto the tiled concrete, cool under his bare feet. A little wind whipped up the robe and he staggered closer to the edge, and looked down.

It was a sign, he knew it. Once, Clark came to the balcony. Only he'd recognized him, Lucas didn't. He'd just seen the mask Clark wore. Poor Clark. He looked so guilty, so angry and it was all his fault. Or maybe fault wasn't the word to use. After all Clark was a hero, Superman, who punished the evil and rescued the good. Lex pulled a chair up to the edge of the balcony. Would Clark have become a hero if he hadn't been...he remembered the words Clark had spit that night he come to the balcony. `Enjoy your life while you can--I will destroy you, the way you destroyed a good friend of mine.'

Lex gasped as a bubble of pain swelled in his chest. Had Clark meant him--or had he meant--Lex groaned, had he meant himself?

He was on the edge of the wall now, leaning out and wind was stronger, snatching at the robe. He leaned out more and more, dizziness making his stomach swoop and roll and then, he let go....

He was falling, falling in a dream, hitting clouds and puffing through them and they felt like rain--

He was falling, his heart was nearly bursting and he was screaming I don't want to die it was a mistake--

He was falling and tears flew out of his wind seared eyes, the breath was being snatched out of his mouth and Clark flew with him, watching him, snarling die freak die--

He was falling and calling for Clark and Clark was there but just a beat too late Clark reached out to grab him and screamed Lex when he missed and the pain was--

Falling, and he was screaming I'm sorry, I'm sorry--

Falling and whispering Lucas, help--

It was full dark by the time Lucas got home. He opened the front door and slammed it shut with a hip bump. He had a bag of take-out in one hand and his brief case in the other.

It was quiet as a tomb but he expected it. Lex either passed out with the TV blasting or he passed out with everything shut off. It wasn't all that unusual lately for him to come home and the place would be dark and quiet and find Lex had spent the whole day getting fucked up.

Maybe he needed to do something about that.

He grinned. But then again when he woke him up, he was usually horny as hell and then he did stuff no one else would do...and Lucas felt a little worm of worry. He was getting kind of addicted to Lex fucked up and ready to do anything. He liked it more and more a little wild and a little rough. Like Lex was getting kind of addicted to the shit he did all day. Lucas frowned and the little worm of a feeling slithered through his gut. Maybe there was too much of that going on.

He walked past the couch Lex was usually passed out on and he wasn't there. Maybe he'd made it to the bedroom today. Yeah, well, he was going to make him get cleaned up and take him out. He hadn't left this place in months. There wasn't anything especially wrong with that--but he wouldn't even leave with him now and that wasn't right. He had to change that. He needed to get Lex out. Maybe they'd go to the islands--he liked them. He was always fun in the islands. Or Switzerland or something...Lex looked good with big blondes....

Lucas put the food on the counter in the kitchen and looked in the fridge for that wine they'd had yesterday, the champagne Lex had laughed at.

He growled and blushed thinking of it. How Lex had laughed at his taste, like he always did, treated him like he was some country cousin instead of his fucking brother brought up in the same house. He couldn't help it if he didn't pay attention to stuff like that--that was Lex's job-- to make sure he was wearing the right thing and going to the right places and knew the right people. He depended on Lex for that and in return, Lex laughed at him. He hadn't laughed when he had a fist in his ass, though...that champagne had been good enough then.

He blushed deeper in anger and jammed stuff back and forth in the fridge, looking for the champagne, looking for something. He unearthed a beer, popped the cap off, took a long drink and sighed.

This had to stop. They had to stop hurting each other before...not that he could ever not have Lex with him. Lex was different--he wasn't other people; he was his life--he was like...his soul. Yeah, that was it--other people were shadows, fucking meat puppets. Only Lex and he were real. The rest? He took a deep long gulp and slammed the bottle on the granite counter. The rest was window dressing.

"Lex? Lex! Where the fuck are you?"

He stalked out of the kitchen and noticed there was a big burn mark on Lex's rug. Damn it, Lex--he thought Lex liked that rug.

He looked in Lex's mostly unused bedroom, checked the room-sized closet for missing clothes, but they were all there. He took a brief moment to smell one of Lex's shirts crumpled up on the closet floor. He pressed it to his nose and dropped it, went on to their bedroom, he wasn't there either.

It was empty, clean, neat and spotless as a hospital room. Lucas liked that, shelled out a fortune to make sure it stayed like that. The metal headboard shone, the white tile floor gleamed like snow. Clean. Lucas smiled. There was nothing on the white walls, nothing on the white tiled floors, nothing in the room except the bed, a dresser and a reproduction black leather Breuer's chair. Clean. Smooth. Elegant. Like Lex. At least until Lex was lying in the middle of their bed, rumpled and used and definitely not clean any more. His dick stiffened a little at the memories.

Fuck, where was he?

He looked in the equally sterile and featureless bathroom, he looked in the closet filled with clothes Lex made him buy, he walked back to Lex's cluttery bedroom and went back out to the living room. Where the fuck was he?

The curtains at the balcony door swelled, and he huffed in irritation. He probably was out there on the stupid balcony. How many times had he told him not to go out there without him--not to open those doors? He stomped over, flung the doors wide, and still, no Lex and the first tingle of fear hit him. What if he...no. His foot crunched on something--he looked down and saw a couple of pale pink pills rolling past his shoes and then saw the over turned chair and scattered cushions and then-- "Shit!"

Right there, lying crumpled in a corner of the balcony, barely visible in the darkness--Lex. Still as death. Lucas dashed over and grabbed him roughly by the arms and dragged him back inside.

Lex was pale as milk glass and unmoving, and Lucas held himself in check as he carefully searched for his pulse--it thudded slow but steadily under his shaking fingers and then he gave in to the fear that made his head swim and acid fill his mouth. Lex must have fallen out there and knocked himself out. Lucas felt over his smooth scalp but didn't find a scrape or a bump. He must have passed out then. "Bastard fucker--fucked up mother fucking--asshole." Hot tears ran down his chin and dripped on the stained silk robe Lex was wrapped in, the one he'd brought him from Japan, the one he'd sneered at...

Lex's eyelids fluttered, and opened and Lucas was staring into Lex's cloudy gray confused gaze.

"Lucas," Lex whispered. "You--you saved me?" he said in a doubtful tone and tried to move back. "I thought--" he hesitated a long second and continued. "I thought I was dead. Or dreaming."

Lucas stiffened. On both Lex's arms, surrounding the wrists, were large red blotches, maybe bruises from the fall, finger-shaped bruises. Sure.

"I did save you." Lucas said shortly. "Because I love you. I'll always be there for you, you know that, right? When no one else will, I'll be there."

Lex nodded, and his eyes were red, and his pupils were tiny pinpoints. Lucas wasn't sure Lex heard him, but didn't check. He pulled him to his feet. "Can you wash up, go to bed, or do you need help?"

Lex leaned bonelessly against Lucas, molding his body to his and twining his arms around his neck. "You must think I'm an idiot," he smiled. "I'm sorry to worry you. I promise to behave." He lowered his lashes and smiled, a slow leer that Lucas was shocked to find made him uneasy instead of arousing him. He unlaced Lex's arms and ignored his pout.

"Yeah, okay, just go wash up. I'll be there in a minute."

Lucas went back out to the balcony and looked out over the city, it was like looking into a bowl of stars and most of them belonged to him. He shuddered. His goal of making the world safe for Lex came closer every day. He had his fingers in every bit of every fucking pie in this city. No one farted unless they asked a Luthor for permission first--he might even have a handle on controlling Lex's Warrior Angel guy.

And now, now it looked like he'd have to protect Lex from Lex. "All right, you fuck," he whispered. "I don't know why you did it, but I owe you one. But you keep your hands off my property, you hear. Never again." He glowered out into the darkness. "What's mine is mine and I'm getting pretty fucking sick and tired of you trying to take what belongs to me. Don't even think about this one."

He turned back into the room and shut the doors. He didn't wait for an answer, a challenge. He knew the freak had heard him. He couldn't explain why, but he knew. Something caught the corner of his eye, something glowing out there in the darkness.

The next morning, as he stood on the balcony and watched Lex drink his coffee, he found a neat black hole drilled into the concrete wall of the balcony and a shiver ran down his spine. Lex caught the motion and looked up at him smiling.

"Are you okay? Feeling all right?" He asked as he set his cup on the table. He yawned and stretched and his t-shirt rode up, exposing a band of bruises around his ribs.

Lucas leaned over and yanked the shirt down and felt like a fool. "Fine. I'm fine."

Mile after mile after mile of ice and snow and at first look the eye couldn't make sense of the dazzling, nearly blinding rays of light and then it resolved into jagged spires of cloudy ice sprawling on the surface of the snow--another blink and clear washes of emerald and sapphire and lemon swept across the surface of the towers unceasingly. A figure exploded out of the sky and crashed to a landing near the fantastic structure. Superman was home.

The halls were freezing, his breath puffed out in little silver clouds. "Heat please," he murmured as he stalked the length of the icy hallway. The air instantly warmed enough that his breath wasn't visible.

"Kal-El, you need replenishment and rest. Allow me to ready the Solarium for you--"

"Shut up."

"I believe you exhibit a serious need for relaxa--"

"I said shut up--I want the AI now."

running

"I need the room opened now."

operating

The wall in front of him was no different from the walls behind him--until the surface shimmered and thinned and opened on a large chamber. Faintly reddish light washed everything a pleasant warm tone, the ceiling rose up and up into dimness--screens and banks of equipment rose up with it. Up and down had no real meaning to a creature who flew. He gave no order to seal the chamber behind him. He didn't expect anyone. The air was filled with a constant buzz of sound--equipment steadily purring, the murmur of hundreds of voices, sounds that he didn't really hear anymore.

Behind him, Lex talked, walked, he smiled frowned, laughed, looked frightened...on a dozen different screens, a dozen different holograms, Lex looked in at the room.

There was a clip of the night he and his brother were snubbed by Bruce. There was Lex attending the wedding of some dignitary, standing next to...Superman walked on, past multiple schematics of LuthorCorp Towers, past scrolling information---all Luthor Corp business, both legitimate and illegal.

He walked past an open chamber containing a reproduction of the Porsche--the mangled car, and behind it on a large screen ran a computer generated version of the accident, over and over it ran, the entire incident from start to finish, showed Lex gasping on the river bank, and Clark staring at him, Lex speaking to Clark-"You saved me-I know I hit you." Clark shaking his head. "If you'd hit me I'd be dead...." the Clark on the screen leaned closer and closer to Lex, smiling, smiling, and covered the weaker man's mouth with his hand. It covered Lex's face--only startled gray eyes were visible as Clark smothered him, again and again....

Superman stopped in a final dark chamber containing only a sleek metal podium. A headset sat on the top. He slid it over his head and it slipped down until fit snugly over his eyes and ears.

"Program."
choose Lex or Lucas

"Lex."

choose Pain or Pleasure

"Pleasure...no, change it to pain."

working

"Help."

He hesitated...that voice, it was his voice...Clark threw down the headset and flew up and through the roof of the structure. The clouds boiled away from him as he shot straight and true as an arrow towards Metropolis. He was dropping toward the apartment balcony--the one he'd visited earlier. The one he knew too well.

He landed lightly, soundlessly and still Lex's head whipped around, he looked startled...gray eyes so wide, filled with fear, wet... "Clark! Thank god! You came!" Lex ran to him and threw himself into his arms, moaning, crying. "Save me, for God's sake, save me!"

Clark leaned back and still holding him, asked him what he needed saving from.

"Myself, my brother...my insanity," he laughed brokenly. "I know I need you--God, I always have...please help me, save me, Clark." Lex's eyes closed and Clark felt like his world had finally opened up. At long last, he was alive again.

He drew Lex closer and kissed him. The kiss was careful...careful, slow, and light, as though one or the other might break and run, then more, deeper, softer as flesh gave slightly, warmer, more heat and harder, tongues met and slid and stroked each other and wet, hot, pressure, pushing as if they could meet, become one in a single kiss, it was the sun filling him with life, the pleasure became so intense it was nearly pain and it made him moan --Lex broke off and gasped, "please--I love you, I always have." Tears ran down his face as he told Clark how much he'd loved him from the start--always, he sank to his knees and pulled at the seams that held Superman's uniform on, "Forgive me Clark, please, let me touch you, let me prove how much I want you--"

'STOP!'

ending program

Clark leaned his head against the podium and ripped the headset off, dropped it to the floor. That had hurt. That had hurt so much and it hurt every time, and the little variations the AI threw in kept it fresh and...painful. It hurt. He leaned his head on the cold metal and gasped until he regained control. He stalked away, angry and sick inside that he gave in to it again. He would order the machine destroyed. He would this time. This time he meant it.

He was out of the chamber and it closed seamlessly behind him, and he ordered the AI to sleep.

A softer tone wafted through the air. "Kal-El..."

"I'm sorry."

"There is no need to apologize. I am however deeply concerned. Your health continues to degrade."

Clark sighed and entered a room with a huge bed. He collapsed on it gratefully. "Lara, is that a nice way of saying I'm going nuts?" There was silence for a beat before the soft voice continued.

"I am concerned. You refuse to rest, you refuse to nourish yourself the way you should--"

"For crying--you're worse than Mo--Martha Kent."

"If you worry about disturbing me, there is no need. Martha Kent is your mother. I am a construct."

"No, no--you're much more than that, don't hide behind the machine. I am sorry I did that to you--I just needed the other then." He yawned, a huge yawn that ended in a sigh.

The voice softened further and it's speech changed, became less precise." I know. I'm sorry too. I wish I could help. Speak to Martha Kent--perhaps..."

Clark sighed again. "I will." He stood and pulled off the uniform, pressed the spot that made it whisk into dust and it was sucked away. He lay on the bed again. "I'm so tired."

The lights dimmed and the temperature rose another fraction. "Sleep now. I'll wake you at the right time."

"If someone needs me..."

"Of course, my son. Sleep now..."

Lucas woke up to a cold bed. He was sprawled wide over it, and it took a moment for it to sink in that he was alone.

Lex wasn't anywhere in the bedroom. Lucas sighed and got up, a little headache curling around his eye socket all ready. He walked down the hall to Lex's room.

Lex was curled in a naked ball at the end of his bed; the covers and sheets were pulled off and puddled on the floor. Lucas didn't spare a look around the room. He didn't have to--he knew it would look like a tornado had gone through it. He stepped over the sheets and shook him. "Lex! Lex! Wake up."

"Clark?" The hopeful note in his sleep thick voice spiked Lucas in the chest and a wave of hatred swept him before dissolving at the sight of Lex's face, softened still by dreams and for a split second so boyish and pure--Lex's eyes shot open and tracked wildly over the room before settling on Lucas and a sardonic smile stretched his lips as he truly woke. "Hello..."

"Get up--god, you stink. When was the last time you showered?" He pulled Lex up by his arms and Lex made it even more difficult by drooping in his grip like over-cooked spaghetti.

Lex snorted. "I don't know, yesterday--the day before--how the fuck should I know..." It was disturbingly familiar, this little scene, as though it had been played out before and he was watching it through the wrong end of a telescope.

Lex's voice trailed off and his eyes rolled back and for a moment Lucas thought he'd passed out. He shifted his grip until he was holding Lex around the chest, pulling him to his feet. "Come on, wake up, stand up, will you? Shit!" The anger came back, not as forcefully, but it was always right under the surface, cheerfully chewing at the lining of his stomach. Lex--Lex was supposed to make him happy. He smashed the thought and shook Lex until he was aware again. "No getting fucked up today, you hear me? You're disgusting!"

"Disgusting..." Lex giggled and shuffled along, dragging his feet and swaying from side to side as Lucas pulled him roughly along. "Lex, come on, help me god damn it-- you've got to get in the shower." Lucas held Lex closer to support him and as skin slid against skin Lucas slowly lost his anger. Once again his favorite feeling in the world calmed him, the feel of Lex's skin against his own. By the time they made it into the bathroom Lucas had regained control over his temper.*...now if by some miracle he doesn't piss me off again...* Lex barely got his feet under him, Lucas held him and turned on the water and gratefully let him slide to the shower floor. "For someone so damn skinny, you weigh a ton."

Lex's head hit the wall and he giggled, the water poured over him in sheets and Lucas stared down at him. God. He was skinny...fuck. The business was taking over his whole world, he was missing the important things--his lover was losing it and he hadn't even noticed...Lucas felt a little sick.

"Hey, come on get up--wash." He prodded Lex gently with his foot and Lex shivered. He grabbed his head with both hands, muttered fuck you and winced in pain. Lucas grinned.

"Coming round now, aren't you? Bet you got a Luthor sized hangover too, hunh? You deserve it, you prick." He yanked Lex to his feet and turned him to the wall, shot a stream of shower gel onto his back and began scrubbing vigorously.

"Ow, you fuck--that hurts."

"Good. It should. You're revolting--you're crusty and stinking and when was the last time you ate?" God. His fingers bumped over his ribs and the knobs of his spine and made him wince, he pushed it out of his mind and concentrated on washing him.

Lex rolled to face him, legs spread wide, the back of his head and hands pressed against the hospital white tile. He stared at Lucas with eyes gone dull and flat. "You should take better care of your pet."

Lucas didn't speak; wouldn't look into his face, he just washed Lex studiously, scrupulously. His breathing roughened as he rubbed the lather over Lex's body and watched his skin flush pink under the foam, flexed his fingers over the slippery warm flesh. "God, every time I touch you I get hard," he groaned.

Lex dropped back against the wall and laughed at Lucas, "What the hell-- do you get all your dialogue from porn?" He laughed louder when Lucas jerked away from him.

"I'm sick and fucking tired of you laughing at me--stop it!"

Lex laughed and laughed and it seemed to echo off the tiles, until Lucas yelled shut up--hit him -hard. The sound of flesh hitting flesh blew away any other sound. Lex's head smashed against the wall. Blood flew from his mouth and it was so red against the white tiles it was all Lucas could see--red everywhere.

"Ah fuck." Lex groaned. "You prick...that hurt." Lex was on his knees and the blood from his mouth, his split lip, swirled red and pink around and around the drain. "Fuck..." he groaned again, sat back on his heels and wiggled a tooth "...it's loose, you asshole," and spat blood again as Lucas stood over him, pale and shaky.

"Why do you make me hit you? Why do you treat me like that?"

Lex got up and shot a glance at Lucas and walked out of the shower, when Lucas called him back, the only answer was the sound of his door slamming.

Lucas rinsed the blood away, shut off the water and leaned against the wall and chewed at his lip. All of it was going wrong, wrong, wrong. Lex kept spinning farther and farther away from him and the harder he held on the worse it got and if he let go it got worse and...fucking Superman was trying to kill him--was trying to...kill Lex? Take him away? Lucas couldn't figure out what it was he wanted and that scared him. He didn't know what Lex wanted and he was afraid he did--god, it was just all falling apart....

Well, really, what did you expect?*

"Dad...Dad, leave me alone." Lucas shuddered and walked out after Lex.

That evening the two of them made an appearance at the Metropolis Museum's White Ball. Lucas couldn't remember the last time Lex attended a charity event, this was the perfect beginning of his campaign to resurrect the Lex he was supposed to be. He'd managed to keep Lex sober the entire day and he was actually charming, the way he used to be, his eyes were clear and gray again, his smile brought memories back--that devilish grin he used to get sometimes. Lucas tried not to stare at him--God, he was so beautiful.

Lex flirted shamelessly with everyone, and allowed picture after picture to be taken, he worked the crowd like a political candidate. Sure, he was a little pale, a little thin, but the tuxedo was cut to hide that, and with a little artful application of makeup, he looked wonderful.

Their eyes met as Lucas moved toward him through the crowd, and there was something in Lex's look that made him instantly hard. He reached out and Lex reached out and they touched hands briefly. For one moment Lucas' world was perfect--Lex gasped quietly and his hand jerked out of Lucas' grip. He turned to look in the direction Lex was staring and he was eye to eye with Clark Kent. So close, he could feel his breath on his cheek, he could feel the heat coming off of him--Clark always had radiated heat like a furnace....

"Lucas--Mr. Luthor--if I may ask--"

Fucking Clark Kent...maybe the biggest mistake he'd ever made. The guy was relentless, after them all the time like a god-damn pit bull. Bastard. His eyes narrowed as he smiled at Clark. The only one who knew the truth and funny that he never came at them that way...He caught the tail end of Kent's question. "--to the rumor of your brother's attempted suicide?"

Lucas gaped at Clark. What!*

"Sir, is there any truth to the rumor?" And he looked into Kent's eyes, and they were cold and filled with--hatred and something...the kid's eyes flashed blue for a moment and Lucas blinked.

They were alone--Lex and Clark and Lucas and this thing between them and nothing else in the world existed.

NO "No."

Clark kept his eyes steadily on Lucas and refused to look at Lex. Lex stared like a deer in headlights, until finally, reluctantly almost, Clark shifted his gaze to Lex, seemed to focus on the faint pink mark on his lip-- Lucas hissed, standing between the two of them was like being caught in a vise made of pain. And like a bubble bursting, suddenly the noise of all the voices and the press of so many bodies beat against them--Lucas could see in Lex's face the moment it became overwhelming, Lex whirled around and walked swiftly towards the entrance. Lucas hurried after him, turning to glare at Kent, who just stood and watched them walk away. After the ball, in the dark of the limo, Lex sat next to Lucas, his eyes closed tight and his shirt open and Lucas twisted the untied bowtie around his bare neck, twisted Lex's nipple. He watched it bloom to a dusty rose; darken as he applied more pressure....

"Do you hate me?" he asked.

"Don't be stupid," Lex whispered harshly, air wheezing out as Lucas tighten his grip on the tie.

"Don't lie," Lucas said. He watched Lex's face turn red and then pale, and released the tie. "Tell me the truth."

"Why should I...lie I mean," Lex gasped and groaned as Lucas bit his nipple hard.

Lucas leaned back, dropped the crumpled tie to the seat and spread his knees. Lex straddled his lap, brushing over the bulge marring the line of Lucas's trousers. "Why do you ask? Why should I hate you," Lex grinned and Lucas said, "Because I killed our dad."

Lex hissed and pressed his hand hard over Lucas' mouth. "Shut up. Don't say that."

Lucas shook it away, "Because I screwed your Clark--screwed him up."

Lex looked startled for a second and then laughed. "Clark? Clark is...who thinks about that shit anymore?" He leaned over and sucked and nibbled a line up to Lucas' ear, licking around the shell.

"He does." Lucas muttered.

"Clark isn't the one we have to worry about," Lex whispered in his ear and rode Lucas, pushing their erections together, and Lucas panted and pressed back. "The thing to keep in mind is, Superman is going to kill us--" Lucas grunted and came.

Sweat soaked his hair, and damp tendrils brushed against the floor, leaving wet trails--his hands were curled into claws, fingers digging into his palms as they squeaked across the oak floor. Back and forth, back and forth, the rug under his knees rutching into pleats and he groaned, "Harder, harder." He gasped and hissed as fingers like steel dug into his hips and punished the tender flesh, ground it against the bone. One big hand wrapped around the stiff leather of the dog collar buckled on his neck, yanked him back onto the dick that spread him.

"Hurts," he groaned. Hurt in just the right way, chasing pleasure through him, igniting fires along his nerves, the pleasure, the pain--he wasn't sure what was what anymore. Sweat flew as he shook his head and growled. "More, make it hurt--"

"Shhh, I'm going to--"

A harder yank on the dog collar and the thick edge dug deep into his throat, he was gagging and trying to beg, "Harder, please--let me, let me--"

"Do it."

His hand flew to his dick, he screamed low and harsh through clenched teeth. "Fuck me, fuck me..." The hand skipped from the collar to nape of his neck, his head was pressed roughly against the floor and his hips were being pounded and everything tightened and pulled towards his center--a slim chain clasped under the collar swung wildly and clicked again and again against the floor as he rocked and spurt over the rug. He shuddered and groaned with the ecstasy of release, his quivering muscles clamped down around the swelling, twitching dick inside him, felt it pouring heat in him as it jerked..."Bruce, Bruce...."

They lay entangled on the floor, exhausted and wet and reluctant to part. Clark sprawled face down on the floor, feeling Bruce twitch and soften, and finally withdraw. He stayed curled over Clark's back, running his hands over Clark's damp, hot skin. He reached for the clasp of the chain and Clark stopped him.

"Leave it." The tiny chip of crystal glowed emerald green against Clark's skin. He rolled to his back unseating Bruce, and stretched out. "I want to feel it." He traced the bruises blooming on his hips, and thighs, fingered the vicious bites laced around his neck and down his chest.

Bruce cocked an eyebrow at him and rolled to his feet in one smooth move. He padded over to the bar in one corner of the room, and poured himself a drink. "Okay. Care to share what's going on?"

"Nothing's going on."

Bruce snorted. "And I should believe that because--" He examined Clark, laying spread on the floor, the rug shoved under his head, his chest heaving as he tried to calm his breathing. "Tell me."

Clark lifted his head to look at him and Bruce's expressive mouth quirked into that smile, the one that even when he'd been in love with Lex--Lucas--Lex...could make him shiver. The lines bracketing the mouth were a little deeper now, the eyes a little narrower, less unguarded, but bluer somehow...Clark sighed and rolled to his feet also. The chain slipped and hit him in the chest, each time it made contact with his skin, it sparked and stung. Clark sighed and took Bruce's drink from his unresisting hand and finished it.

"Well?" Bruce asked, and Clark looked away.

"I saw Lex tonight. Lucas and Lex, and I spoke to him--Lucas."

Bruce shrugged. "You've had dozens of occasions requiring you to speak to him--what made this time different?"

He walked over to the couch and took a towel off the back of it, wiped his neck and shoulders. Clark watched him, eyes drawn to the scars on Bruce's body. White lines ran from shoulder to shoulder, skipped over his ribs, laced his thighs. Some were carved deep into him; some were pits in his skin, some were thin delicate strokes. Billionaire playboy adventurer Bruce Wayne was extremely active and a little careless...at least that was his story. Clark pulled his eyes away and chewed on the edge of his thumb. "I don't know." Clark hesitated a moment before going on. "I saw something...a few nights ago."

Bruce glanced at him, a frown on his face. "What?" He tossed Clark a robe also draped across the back of the couch.

Clark walked around the room as he belted the robe, looking at the odd pieces Bruce had scattered thickly around the small study, an eclectic mix of different cultures, a jumble of valuable antiques and kitsch. The items may have been different but the feeling was familiar, he felt the same as he had when he was a boy and wandering around Lex's study, trying not to touch the things that belonged to Lex--wanting to so badly...he took a breath and started again. "I saw Lex, on the apartment balcony. He looked...bad."

Bruce shrugged. "He looks bad. Drugs alcohol, that life...it affects you." He looked at Clark. "I'm surprised you noticed. I'm surprised his brother doesn't seem to."

Clark stared at Bruce, not really in the moment with him, even as he nodded, his mind was turning the incident over and over in his mind. "He was--he threw himself off the balcony, I think."

"Tripped or jumped?" Bruce twisted the towel around his waist and a cynical smile made his eyes seem bluer.

"You don't trip off a chest high wall, Bruce," Clark glowered and surprised himself by defending Lex even that much.

Bruce turned to the wall on which a television hung and turned it on. News flashed over it, rapidly changing images and sound, the crawl at the bottom of the screen spoke of disasters and war and human misery over and over as quickly as the eye could read and he spoke quietly. "Civil war, death, starvation...one government falls and another rises in it's place and in some way it benefits LuthorCorp. Crops fail and new seed is provided generously and LuthorCorp holds patents to the miracle seed...in this city alone we're drowning in illegal drugs, guns, corrupt government, dirty cops, and some how, some where, it all leads back to them, Clark. Why do you care?"

Clark started to defend his actions before he realized he meant Lex. Why did he care? Because... "I don't--it's just...I think he's." Clark stopped.

"He's the same person he let himself become. Come here, let me take that off, it makes me uncomfortable." He motioned for Clark to step forward and Clark let Bruce take off the chain and it's kryptonite pendant and seal it in a lead box on the end table. The release was instantaneous, the minor injuries to his skin healed immediately and Clark was sorry they were gone--he wouldn't look in the mirror in the morning and see the bites, feel the bruises on his hips, it'd be as if this never happened. The faint echo of sex was gone. He looked at Bruce, whose body was a map of everything he'd gone through, and felt a little envy. It was something he could never explain to Bruce, to anyone. Sometimes he hated the fact that he was nearly invulnerable. No trace, no reminders, nothing would ever show on his skin.

"Don't worry about Lex. He's where he wants to be, you know that. And as for Lucas--let's just concentrate on making sure we protect our cities against them."

Clark shook his head. "There was something in his face..." he muttered.

"I used to think there might be some greater reason for Lex's change. But--it was clear he liked his life just fine." Bruce leaned against the door to the study. "He sent me a film and told me there'd be no need to contact him again."

"A film?"

But Clark was already cringing inside when Bruce nodded and said, "A film of himself with his brother. It was...tasteless. But the message was clear." His head was slightly down turned so the only part of his face lit was his mouth, the corners were turned down, the lines around his mouth were deeper. I've got to go--Dick is waiting for me."

Clark nodded. "I've got an interview later... and then, maybe I'll go home for a few hours. It's been a while since I've seen my folks. His cheeks reddened. "A long while." He reached up, and unbuckled the collar, held it on his palm for a moment before giving it to Bruce. Bruce took it off, let his fingers linger against Clark's palm....

"It's time then. Go home, visit with your parents. Maybe take longer than a few hours, Clark. Take the opportunity to think."

Clark nodded. "Maybe, Bruce---thank you." He didn't look up; he knew Bruce was already gone. "Thanks for everything you do for me."

Lucas walked into the darkened living room and used the remote to open the blinds. Light spilled in and made Lex grunt in annoyance and try to shield his eyes from the sun glaring in the glass. Lucas leaned over the couch and shook his shoulder. "Hey. Did you go out today?"

Lex growled at him. "What?"

"Did you go out today?"

"Yes, yes for fucks sake, didn't your secretary give you the message? I went out, damn it. God--first you don't want me to leave the place and then you won't let me stay home...it's like living with fucking Sybil or something." Lex swung his feet to the floor, still dressed in the rumpled suit he'd worn to lunch. "You'll be happy to know that Mitsy and Brent are still as stupid as ever, but thank god, large amounts of Armadale made them slightly wittier."

Lucas snorted and picked Lex's coat up off the floor and folded it over the back of the couch.

"Bevin sends their love and he says you have a pretty cock and he misses it--she tried to remember her name mostly..."

Lucas rolled his eyes and muttered, "'Pretty cock'. Asshole. Sorry we ever screwed them." He came around the couch, lifted Lex's legs across his lap as he sat next to him. "I brought you something."

Lex's face lit up. "You did?" He licked his lips and smiled eagerly at Lucas, greed filling his eyes. "What, can I see?"

Lucas shook his head and grinned. "You have to come back to the office with me tonight."

Lex closed his eyes and frowned, shook his head. "I'm staying right here. You go."

Lucas grabbed Lex's silk clad foot, and stroked it. A little stab of disquiet ran up Lex's spine and he held very still as Lucas rubbed the ball of his foot and stroked his ankle. "No--get up, we have to go--the surprise is there. I can make it interesting for you," he grinned and reaching behind the couch pulled up a bag and set it down in front of Lex. "Look." He reached in the bag and pulled out a handful of shimmery fabric.

Lex grinned lazily, "What, you bought me a scarf? You want to play hide and seek?"

Lucas smirked and shook the material and it unfolded into a fall of sheer black material. "It's a dress; there's some other stuff in the bag. Go put it on."

"The fuck..." Lex gaped at Lucas, and then laughed so hard he fell off the couch. "Why in the fuck would I wear that--Halloween is over--or didn't you know?" He lay on the carpet snickering at Lucas, who only smiled back.

"You'll wear it because I want you to. It'll make me happy." He reached into the bag and pulled out a wig, strawberry blonde hair, long and cut in a very old-fashioned style. Lex sobered and began to get annoyed. "No! I'm not wearing that to the office---none of that--I'll look like a freak!"

"You'll look sexy. And I want it." He sounded harder, angry. "Do this and I'll let you have full charge of the labs. Whatever you want, your way. I'll leave you alone with them. Don't do it, and I'll have to remind you who's boss here. You can laugh all you like at me, but remember this--I own you. I'm offering right now, but I can make you do whatever I want. You think you've got nothing to lose? You do--believe me, you do."

Lex's mouth hung open. "All that just to see me in a dress? Fuck you. What the hell is your problem? It's not enough you've got my ass, you want my balls too?"

"No--it's not like that--I just...come on, I'm not saying make it a way of life, one time in the office and that's all. One time. Promise." Lucas pushed a glass vial over to him. "Look, here's something just for you. Take this and the bag."

Lex's heart beat harder. Lucas had been doling out the drugs in little bits here and there, just enough to keep him from...doing something. He stared and licked his lips. "What is it?"

"A little something from the neuropharm division. You'll like it." His eyes glittered and he shook the bag. "Come on, for me? You know you want to make me happy...."

"You bastard," Lex said conversationally, "You just want to punish me," his eyes still on the vial and one hand edging toward the bag. "I hate you. No. I'm not dressing like a freak for you."

Lucas smiled and shrugged, took the bag and walked away. Lex followed him into the kitchen, watched Lucas drop the bag on the counter and head to the fridge. He rummaged about, and pulled out a bottle. "Want some?" he asked and Lex nodded. Lucas poured Cristal into two tumblers and handed one to Lex. He hummed as he tapped a little powder into a syringe and poured warm water into it.

Lex eyed his little kit with a smirk. "You're an asshole."

Lucas laughed, gulped the Cristal like soda and shook the little glass tube hard. Lex watched it all, mesmerized by Lucas' eyes on him. He grinned at Lex, unbuckled his belt and slid his pants down past his hips and shot himself in the top of the thigh. "Pop goes the weasel. Want some?"

Lex grimaced and shook his head. Lucas tapped more powder out onto the counter. "Here, help yourself."

Lex eyed the bag, and inched toward the counter. He leaned over the powder. Lucas watched him and smiled. "See, I take care of you. I know what's best for you. Lex, I do want you to take over the labs. Run the research division. You know you'd like that. And you need to do something." He stood over him and mouthed the back of his head, his neck. "You need to exercise your beautiful brain," he murmured.

Lex laughed." I don't think so..." his head rolled on his shoulders and he let himself slide to the floor. Lucas flopped down next to him, and laid his arm on Lex's shoulder. His eyes narrowed and he let the feeling swoop down and take him, one arm tight around Lex and his head tilted back against the cabinet.

His mind floated along on waves of warm nothing, but his thoughts insisted on percolating to the surface, breaking his calm. "You're going to put the dress on, right? Put the make up on?" He grinned. "Let me see you like that just for a little."

"I guess," Lex said thickly, in a tone that said `I could care less'. He sighed and moved closer to Lucas, stroking his chest and licking hard and slow and steady against his neck. Lucas was surprised to feel himself getting hard--his dick surged against his leg when Lex breathed warm little gusts steadily into his ear.

"There's something I want, Lucas, tell me you'll do it and I'll do this for you. Get me this one thing and I'll do whatever you want.

"What," he gasped, "what is it? What do you want?" He spread his legs and Lex rubbed his thighs, slid his hand into his pants and cupped and rolled his balls gently in his hand. "Get me the Smallville place back."

"All right, all right," he bucked in Lex's hand. "I will. And you--" he groaned and humped Lex's palm, pushed his hand hard over him and his hips lifted from the floor. "You'll wear the -ahh!" He froze and quivered, his hips in the air and his come pulsing over Lex's fist. The orgasm was a slow rolling wave, diffuse and center-less, flooding his mind with warmth and loosening all his muscles. He dropped back down and sprawled on the floor, his chest heaving. Lex wiped his hand on Lucas' shirt, and grabbed the bag.

"I'm going to go put this--stuff on. Don't forget what you promised."

Lucas was hurt. Didn't he always do what Lex asked him to?

He pulled himself up, and ran his hand through his damp hair. He needed to clean up, call the driver and get ready for the interview. He grinned; a big lazy smirk that he could feel split his mouth. This was going to be the most fun interview ever. He thought of Lex and his dick twitched a little.

Ever.

"Lois, there's no special reason I'm leaving for home, I just need a little time off, that's all. I have a million vacation days; it's time to burn some off. No, I'm fine. I'll be okay. Yes, call me if there's a problem. I'll be back in a week. I sent you everything I have on Lucas Luthor, except for tonight's stuff--I'll send it from home. It won't be much. Right. See you."

Clark disconnected and slipped his phone into his suit pocket with a small sigh. It was just a fluff job--an article about Metropolis' most successful sons, including of course, the Luthors--but he and Lois knew there was rot under the pretty surface of gloss.

Clark had one last interview with Lucas Luthor and then he was done, finished and glad of it. The two prior interviews had been emotionally exhausting, the strain of not wiping that smirk off his face....

Lois was beside herself but he had to get out of town for a few days and get back on track. Talking to Luthor, being in the same room with him--made him think too much about things better left in the past. Lucas was the only one he'd spoken to--he'd refused to give him access to Lex-not that Clark had really pushed to do so. Speaking with the man, listening to him, he was beginning to get the nagging feeling that Lex might have less to do with the day to day running of LuthorCorp than he'd believed. Lucas hadn't said so--not in so many words, but it was a puzzle that Clark meant to tackle on his return. Lucas was enjoying the game; he loved rubbing Clark's face in every barely legal activity he conducted, while hinting at the illegal ones, knowing that he couldn't touch him. Yet. Clark didn't care. He'd bring them down --he was attacking the Luthors on two fronts, through public opinion and as Superman. He promised years ago to bring them to justice and he would.

The secretary sent him through the over size double doors that marked the entrance to the LuthorCorp offices. His footsteps echoed on the marble tile, and security was a huge and obvious presence. He was wanded and frisked before entering an elevator that brought him to the private suite of offices occupied by LuthorCorp. He was met by a startlingly beautiful redhead and escorted into the Luthor offices.

He walked in and at first he thought he'd missed the appointment, the room was dim--he checked his watch and saw he was on time--so where was Luthor?

"Hey, be with you in a minute."--He looked behind himself and saw Lucas in the corner of the room, sitting in an old-fashioned club chair, his legs spread and between them, a woman on her knees. Suddenly he was assaulted with sound-- the liquid slap of wet flesh against flesh, and a muffled groaning, heavy breathing...damn it, Luthor knew Clark was supposed to interview him at this time, it was a deliberate insult. He turned to leave but Lucas called him back, his voice strained and a little breathless and it stopped him in his tracks.

Memories.

Events he hadn't thought of in ages--emotions he'd gnawed at until they scabbed over filled him again and for a horrible moment his eyes filled with tears and he wasn't seeing Lucas at all. He swung around, away from him, headed towards the door, but when Lucas said `come back' again, he stopped and cursing himself, he faced him.

Lucas was staring into his eyes as he rolled his hips and Clark could see that the hands cradling the blonde head were tight, moving the head up and down on him and it couldn't have been comfortable or enjoyable for the woman. Her blonde hair fanned out over Lucas' thighs, and Lucas looked down, following where Clark's eyes were...watched the hair shifting on his legs like he'd never seen anything like it before. When he looked back at Clark, it was with an expression of awe and lust and...pain...Lucas quickly closed his eyes and lifted from the chair, pumped into the red slicked mouth, hissing, "...so good, you're so good, don't stop..." he bucked up and groaned and Clark felt little drops of sweat roll down between his shoulder blades, his ribs. "...take it all," Lucas whispered, almost to himself, "take it all."

Tight black fabric shimmered and stretched across the woman's back, the hem rode steadily higher up the back of her legs and showed the lacy tops of stockings--the sight of thin satin straps holding the stockings up, disappearing under the dress--it shocked Clark and made his breath catch. He was aroused and ashamed and he couldn't move away. He wanted to look away...he stepped closer.

He could see Lucas' dick moving in and out of the lipsticked mouth, veins traced the skin his hands remembered as being velvety smooth and so hot, now streaked with gloss, shiny and wet, and ...he could smell Lucas, feel the heat, the girl's blonde hair hung over her face, gleaming strands pasted against her as sweat beaded her forehead and saliva rolled down her chin.

"You want to fuck her while she does me? Go ahead, she'll love it."

Clark shuddered and swallowed a groan. He was so hard, and he pressed his hand against the fabric pulled tight over his dick. He twitched at the thought...fucking her--while she sucked...what was wrong with him--this was wrong--he needed to leave, he had to leave...Lucas groaned like he was in pain, "suck me, suck me," the blonde head bobbed faster, high heeled feet pressed for purchase against the carpet and the dress pulled tight against her ass-- he touched himself and moaned. He wanted to touch her, feel her--he'd never felt that way before, never wanted that, it almost scared him. Lucas gasped, "coming, coming," and Clark staggered and he felt on the edge of coming himself.

The woman in Lucas' lap jerked a few times, one arm slid under herself, the dress rode higher until her silk clad ass was visible, and--she threw her head back, her chin was wet with come and saliva and she was...dress riding her hips and--she was jerking herself off, come on her hand and on the carpet under her, balls trapped by the silky underwear--his dick standing straight up, half cradled by the sheer silk and his hand milking it....

"Fuck!" Clark jerked back and slammed into a table behind him, knocking it over. The person turned towards him, the expression of dazed release on their face replaced by shock and Clark felt it like a punch in the ribs--Lex.

Lex tumbled to his side, lay there with the dress trapped around his hips and the silk underwear hanging in shreds...he looked stunned and horrified, his too wide eyes in his white, white face locked on Clark, staring up at him...Lucas pushed his chair back and said, "Whoops."

Lex spun to face him and gasped, "Why would you do that to me?"

There was a blur and a sound like paper falling and Clark was gone.

Lucas was focused on Lex and didn't notice. "I want you to remember you belong to me. I want everyone to know--I want that guy especially to know. He was starting to...you need to keep focused. Right?"

Lex looked up at him and nodded. He pulled the wig off and dropped it on the floor. He felt huge and empty inside. It didn't particularly bother him. The whole incident was rapidly passing from his mind. Lucas smiled down at him and offered his hand, pulled him to his feet.

"I want to go Smallville."

Lucas nodded. "All right...the house is there for you."

Lex opened his mouth, closed it and shook his head. He tried to laugh, but it caught in his throat. "I want to go by myself."

Lucas stopped and looked at him. He leaned in and wiped lipstick and wet from Lex's chin. "Okay." Kissed him on the cheek. "You can go. By yourself."

Lex sighed and shivered. "Get this thing off me--now." He was yanking at the zipper, pulling and yanking and Lucas stopped him. "Watch out, you'll rip it."

Lex whipped his head around to face him, and Lucas had a bright, hard smile on his face. "You promised," Lex said.

"I did, didn't I? I did say you'd only have to wear this dress once." He grabbed the edges of the thin material and ripped it down the center.... He stroked his hand down Lex's bare back, cupped his ass. "You might be upset now, honey, but you will understand."

"Really? Will I?" He laughed. "Well. I guess I'll just have to take your word for it."

Smallville had changed tremendously in six years. It seemed smaller and grimier and grim. The feeling of family, of belonging that the people of Smallville seemed to have was nearly gone. It was a colder, harder town, and with the plant's closing several years ago, it was a poorer town. The Luthors had shut down the plant and the organic farms, sold off the land, walked away without a care.

Lex had wanted to drive to Smallville himself, but Lucas was adamant that he be driven.

"Remember what happened before," he'd said and looked so frightened that it made Lex laugh at him, which set him off. After the fight, when Lucas calmed down again, Lex had agreed to his demand and now he was being driven through the center of town in a shiny black stretch limousine with the LuthorCorp logo plastered on it's side ...and God, he knew how arrogant and pretentious and stupid it looked--He blushed and frowned, slouched down in the seat regardless of the fact no one could see through the windows, the glares directed at the car felt like they were meant for him.

The car crawled out of town and headed to the countryside and out to their `ancestral' home. Lex thought it looked a little less green, less surrounded by fields of tall corn and borders of sunflowers than he remembered--but of course those had been different times--he'd been a different person.

The crenellated towers of the house loomed above the trees at the end of the drive. He felt surprise that it looked just the same and then wondered why. It was an enormous heap of stone and there was no good reason why it should look different. He could see some sort of repair work going on at the rear of the house-there were trucks, and scaffolding laying in the drive, but all in all it looked good--better than good--it looked exactly the same.

When he was let in by the housekeeper he felt a weird twisting moment of disorientation--at first glance the interior looked exactly the same as he remembered. After a few seconds he realized the furnishings were new--similar to the old pieces but all recent purchases. Lucas was--trying to bring the past back? None of it was Lucas' Spartan, clinical taste--it recalled his father, and his love of dark wood and cozy overstuffed pieces...the thought of his dad made Lex's heart hurt. He missed him; he missed him almost every day.

Lex sighed and walked across the highly polished and sparkling clean floor, following the housekeeper. He noted that she seemed perfectly comfortable in the space and wondered just how long Lucas had had the house and why? He turned in circles and looked around at his house--what was on Lucas' mind? Curiosity sent him up the stairs, and down the hall--he could walk it in his sleep--he opened the door of his old bedroom.

The room, his room--didn't exist. Of course it wouldn't but the reality was unsettling...it was empty. Clean, dust free and completely empty. He went to Lucas' room, looked inside.

Empty.

Further down the hall he could see a note attached to one door and went to it. The card was blank save for his name scrawled across it. Inside the room was a pretty fair approximation of his bedroom at the apartment. He felt a laugh bubble up--how could Lucas know what was in that room--he barely knew himself. He wandered around the room, and dropped down on the bed. Perfect.

Lucas was going to run his life from a distance. Fine. He didn't give a damn. All he wanted was a few days to get over this sudden fixation on the past. Maybe living here, he would realize that what was past was...bad, finished...over. That what it was that made him so tired, bone tired all the time, was a distant horrible memory. He stretched out on the bed, and felt cold and alone. He wanted someone to hold him, warm him and the only arms he could imagine were Lucas'. He toed his shoes off, pulled the bedspread over himself and drifted off, unaware that he cried in his sleep.

He woke in the early evening, still feeling worn. His eyes were swollen and gummy and his mouth felt sticky. He washed up and thought about unpacking, thought about food....

He went back down to the living area. He hadn't yet gone to see what had become of the study. He knew that had to have been long ago repaired, but he felt almost afraid to look in that room. What if it was the same...what if it was different? He couldn't do it yet--not yet. On impulse, he went to the entertainment room before calling for the housekeeper.

Memories flooded his mind as he stood in the doorway of the identically furnished room. Everything was the same. Just the same. He moved forward slowly, looking around him. Stacks of unopened, still wrapped in plastic DVD's, sat next to the armoire containing the TV...brand new CD's, all of it music he liked, were neatly stacked next to the audio system...the little glass fronted fridge in the corner was fully stocked with what he liked to drink, pillows in colors he favored sat plump and inviting on the wide leather couch...he shivered.

He sat on the couch and it sighed quietly and conformed to his body like a well-worn glove. He stared at the phone on the end table...tapped his fingers on his knee and stared at the phone.... he scratched distractedly at a flickering itch on his hand and grimaced. Turned on the TV and stared...he picked up the remote and ran through channels over and over...there was a distinct possibility he might go insane here. He giggled quietly. More insane.

He kept waiting for his dad's footsteps, waiting for Dad to call his name...

"Mr. Luthor."

Lex jumped at the voice and managed not to shriek. "Yes?" he answered calmly.

"Dinner is ready sir--do you want it brought here..."

"Thanks, no, I'll eat in the dining room." He rose and followed the woman and even tried to engage her in conversation but beyond her name, it was a futile effort, and probably for the best.

After dinner he went back up to his bedroom, shook three pills out of a bottle he had in his shaving kit and lay down so they could work. He closed his eyes and saw Clark's face, that expression of shock and disgust. Ah well. He'd wait a few more minutes and if he didn't fall asleep, he'd take one or two more....

For two days he ate what was put in front of him without tasting it, he drank what was in the bar and swallowed what was in his kit, dozed in and out on a pleasant haze and talked to Lucas as infrequently a possible. Every time he spoke to him, his hard earned daze fractured--Lucas kept asking him if he was lonely and every time he did, Lex wanted to go back to Metropolis and crawl into his lap and he hated himself more and more.

The autumn sun reflected off the sidewalk into his eyes. He frowned and wondered again what the hell had possessed him to walk into town. He'd found there were cars in the garage, beautiful cars, the driver and the limo were still at his disposal but no--some insanity told him a nice long walk into town would be just the thing. It hadn't seemed so far in the car...and pride kept him from calling the smirking driver...for now. He blinked and tried to clear his eyes and wiped the sweat off his head, thank goodness for pocket tissues-it might not be quite the heat of a Kansas summer anymore, but still, hiking in shoes not really made for it and a wool suit didn't combine in a very good way. He was much less than fresh now...he glanced about quickly, sniffed at himself and grimaced. Much less.

Fuck. Here he was, sweaty, stinking, walking down the street of a town that his family had essentially destroyed, and now the townsfolk were noticing him, glaring at him. It was a miracle no one was hissing or shaking their fists...fuck. What a stupid idea it'd been to come here. What the fuck had he been thinking? His eyes pricked for a moment with self-pity. If he were back in the city now, he'd be warm and safe on the couch, something good in him, being pampered....

He ducked his head and stared at the ground, waiting out the painful wave that squeezed his chest and made him want to run back to the Castle. He trudged on, the former theater catching his eye. The art deco style marquee claimed it now served the best coffee in Smallville. That was interesting.

The sign in the window advertised homemade baked goods and fresh coffee. A few tables decorated with cheap glass bud vases stood on the sidewalk outside the door. He decided to give it a try--he remembered the Beanery coffee vividly and the memory was not good. Inside it appeared as though a Victorian tearoom had had an explosive accident over the interior. It was incredibly mauve but tolerable and more importantly, air-conditioned, and the coffee did smell good, none of the burnt, over-cooked on the hot plate scent that was typical for coffee bars in the States.

He sat at a table that stood a bit apart from the others, a one-person seat, and steadily ignoring the stares and whispers, he waited for service. He heard a hissing conversation and looked up to see an older woman arguing in a quiet and controlled way with a young girl, who shook her head adamantly. The woman snatched the menu card from her hand and sent her to the kitchen. He looked down and feigned disinterest until the woman was at his table.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Luthor. Welcome to the Talon."

He looked up and his heart froze. This day just kept getting better and better.

"Mrs. Kent. Hello." He started to stand. "I'll just run along..."

"Sit, sit please."

"Are...are you sure, Mrs. Kent?"

"Yes. And you know you have permission to call me Martha."

He automatically responded, "Than call me Lex," and sat again. He took the card she held out to him, ordered coffee and something sweet with lots of sugar and smiled as he handed the card back. He'd consider himself a lucky man not to have the coffee in his lap.

When she came back to the table, she set his order in front of him. Gently. He eyed the steaming cup and politely inquired about Mr. Kent.

"We're fine, Lex." She looked him up and down. "You're doing well?" she asked and it sounded as if she truly cared. She would have made an excellent businesswoman, Lex thought. He could almost believe that she did care.

He laughed lightly and nodded. "I'm doing very well." And blushed. "I...I..."

"You're worried about what we--the town -thinks of you? Honestly...the Luthor name is right up there with Caligula and Hitler." She shrugged but there wasn't any sting in her voice and Lex relaxed a fraction. "There's a great deal of resentment--but it's different for us. We weren't dependent really on the plant, and after the other farmers who'd worked for your dad joined us in a co-operative, things took an upward turn." She smiled softly. "I work here to help out," she put her hand on Lex's, "but mostly because I enjoy getting out of the house."

He felt a weight lift. "Really? That's great. So I can assume the co-op is prospering?".

"Oh yes, it's wonderful, Bruce really helped out, getting his friends to invest and to buy from us. He's terrific, your friend. He's helped us in so many ways."

Lex nodded and smiled some more. He didn't want to admit he hadn't been friends with Bruce for years.

"It's still so strange to think Clark is seeing a billionaire." She chuckled--stopped at the look on Lex's face.

"What...Clark...and Bruce?"

"Oh my," she breathed. "You didn't know? I just assumed since you and Bruce are close--" she saw how deep the shock was and put two and two together. "Oh my goodness. I'm so sorry."

Lex laughed weakly. Waved her off and sipped at his coffee. "Don't worry. Please it's nothing, nothing at all."

She excused herself and hurried back to the counter. Business had to be attended to. From time to time, Martha looked up to watch the too thin, too pale young man drink his coffee and wondered what on earth had happened to him since they'd last seen Lucas and him. She knew what the gossip columns said his life was like, and Clark hinted angrily at dark activities, but looking at him, Lex seemed more a victim than an aggressor.

Whatever had gone on between the boys that last week in Smallville, Clark would never speak of, but he wouldn't tolerate a kind word about the Luthors, ever. That subject was sealed. But still...Lex loved Clark. She saw it plainly in his eyes, he loved her son. She wondered for how long--she wondered what happened that Clark ended up with Lucas instead of Lex, whom he'd had a crush on for years. Not that Clark ever spoke about it--officially Bruce was the first man he'd loved, but she knew it was Lex ...Clark's scrapbooks filled with Lex were supposed to be a secret. She sighed. Mother's had a habit of finding secret things...even when they didn't want to.

Then the Luthors had moved and the scrapbooks were in the trash and it was over for Clark. But maybe not for Lex.

That year...there was still so much unsaid from that year. Clark never admitted a relationship with Lucas, never spoke about what had seemed more than a crush--to her, at least--on Lex, but when they left town it was as if they took something of Clark with them. Something happened that turned her son from an open, big-hearted boy to a closed off, angry young man. For a long time Clark floated in limbo...it took Bruce working with Clark to begin to crack open the shell he'd pulled himself into. Nothing they did helped but Bruce...Batman helped Clark in ways no one else could--or could understand.

When Clark confessed that he was in a relationship with him...it might not have been what they'd pictured for Clark, but it was incredible how much of her son re-awakened with Bruce. And Bruce was unfailingly kind and considerate--always ready to help.

She glanced at Lex, sitting by himself, an arrogant look on his face as he drank his coffee slowly and pulled his pastry into shreds and in general gave the impression that the Talon should be grateful for his presence. Poor boy.

Her heart went out to him. She couldn't leave him alone in this place. He needed a friend.

He paid at the counter and told her goodbye. She smiled and told him that the next day there would be fresh apple pie and she'd save him a slice for after lunch.

He gave her a long look, and nodded. "All right. Thank you." She could feel her cheeks pink up, and smiled back. She called after him, before he opened the door. He turned to her with a cocked eyebrow and a little frown...

"Call your driver."

He looked surprised for a moment, and then, he laughed.

The next afternoon Lex stood in the Talon doorway, and Martha felt a little flush of pleasure and waved. She was very pleased that he did come--she hadn't been sure that he would. He nodded and headed to the small table he'd sat at the day before. Before too long Martha was at his table with a slice of pie, a little scoop of vanilla slowly melting on the top.

"I hope I remembered correctly--you do like it this way don't you?"

"Very much, yes." He looked surprised that she'd remember such a little thing, but Martha remembered all the details, kept all the pieces together. She sat as he began to nibble at the pie, and watched him with a little smile. They chatted about nothing and laughed quite a bit and when Lex left, they both felt...warmer.

Martha without a child to need her was drifting...Lex needed a friend. She felt like something good had happened for the both of them.

"I want to stay another week--I think I want to stay the month." Lex chewed at his lip, pulling the scar between his teeth.

"A month? A month away...why? Come home now." Lucas' voice was tight and Lex could feel his displeasure.

"No. I want to stay a little while longer. A month is not so much." There was heavy silence on the line. Lex waited for a response--none came. The silence pressed on him, heavier and heavier until the weight forced words out of him, "Come...come and stay with me--over the weekend. Come take a look at the house. And speaking of the house..."

Lucas cut him off. "I'll come this weekend to pick you up and bring you home."

"No!" Lex struggled to control his tone. "No. Come for the weekend--I told you I'm staying. For a month."

The silence grew again until Lex bit his fingers to keep from speaking, and his eyes blinked rapidly. He wanted to throw the phone, wanted to slap himself but he fought to keep from saying what he knew Lucas wanted to hear. He cleared his throat and Lucas huffed loudly.

"All right, damn it. I'm coming this weekend. But don't think I won't try to talk you out of this stubbornness." He sounded exasperated but fond, and then his voice changed from gruff to that little soft voice that made Lex fold every time, the voice that haunted his nightmares and made him want to cry out sometimes for what was lost..."I miss you Lex, don't you miss me?"

"I do." Fuck. He was shaking his head but his voice went on without control. "I miss you."

"Okay, then, I'll be there this weekend." The line clicked and buzzed into a dial tone and Lex wondered if he'd been granted permission to stay or not--he cursed. Fuck that and fuck him--If he wanted to stay, he was staying. That was all there was to it. Lucas would change his mind this weekend...and Lex wondered how it was that Lucas was coming to Smallville when the point had been to not be with him. God damn it. Every fucking time...every fucking time he heard his voice, or he was in the same room with him, he lost everything....

Saturday morning Lex came to the farm to pick Martha up. She'd decided that she had to go to the week-end market, and Lex had to drive, please. Lex couldn't tell her no, and so--here he was, up way too early on a bright Fall morning. Jonathan waved a preoccupied good-bye to them from the seat of the tractor. "Don't forget to pick up milk on the way home," he called and went on about his business.

Lex was on his best behavior, driving slowly and carefully and Martha smiled to herself. He was treating her with kid gloves. She'd tell him later to let loose, fast cars weren't made to be driven like this. And she knew from experience, nothing cleared your head better sometimes than a no holds barred run down a country road. She had no idea that Lex's extreme caution came from nerves, it was the first time in years Lex had driven himself...anywhere.

They reached town center just as crowds were starting to collect, everyone friendly and relaxed, and they strolled along, mingling with the crowd, enjoying the crisp feel and scent of the air, the smell of fresh donuts and cider made their mouths water. The decision to visit the market had been a good idea, Martha thought. Lex needed to be out in the fresh air, away from whatever it was that made him frown so much. He looked pleased, relaxed, nibbling at a donut and sipping cider. She shifted the cup in her hand and took his arm when he offered it. They walked around a stand of dried cornstalks, pumpkins and Indian corn, and stopped to look at a display of vegetables, a colorful pyramid of peppers of different varieties, and Martha watched Lex as he picked through them, seriously considering their texture and color. She thought, `now is as good a time as any to tell him.'

"Lex," she said, "Clark is here. He came in last night and he'll be staying here for a few days." She didn't know what his reaction would be to that, but the look of horror on his face was not at all what she'd expected.

Lex shook his head. "Please don't tell him I'm here. I don't think he'd like it." His ghost pale face belied the mildness of his words. Martha could tell he was shaken to the core.

"Lex, I know Clark seems to have some sort of--thing with you, but maybe if you talked..."

"Martha, do you read the papers? Do you know what he's accusing my brother and me of, how he hounds Lucas at every turn--" he snapped, and for a moment looked every bit of the Luthor she saw on TV, cold, supercilious...and then he seemed to shrink, his shoulders bowed forward a bit and he looked down. "I'm sorry," he said, "that wasn't very nice of me. I apologize."

Martha laid her hand on his sleeve. "Lex..." she began but stopped. She wanted to know--needed to know, was it true, everything they said, was it true?

Lex eased her hand away, threw his unfinished donut and cider into a trashcan and walked on. "Let Clark have a nice visit, he probably needs it. He works so hard, everyday, all the time...trying to protect the people who need it--he doesn't need to have me ruin it for him..."

Martha had the feeling that he was really talking to himself--it struck her that he meant much more than just Clark Kent of The Daily Planet. She watched him walk on a ways by himself, before hurrying up to catch up to him.

"Lex, you and I are friends." She didn't ask, she told him. He stopped and raised an eyebrow at her.

"Are we?"

"Of course, I'm your friend. I can wear a lot of hats you know." She smiled and he stared for a moment, searching her face, his eyes were like lasers, raking over her features, until finally he smiled. Not the little one sided smirk, or the polite bow of lips--this was a big, bright, tooth showing thing that got right under your ribs and hooked your heart. She smiled back. No wonder Clark had loved him once.

It was still there. Lex, under all the layers and manners and habits was...lovable. She laughed to herself--she'd never tell him so, not in words, but Lex was lovable--in the sense that he deserved to be loved. He needed love. And that's why she spent time with him, why they sat at her table and did crossword puzzles in pen, why Jonathan joined them for coffee and talked about the co-op with him, and even took his advice...and now Clark was back and Lex was ready to give it all up and disappear back inside himself. She'd see about that.

Lex sighed, and turned back toward the car. "It's getting on, I know you have things to do--and I've got to be home when Lucas comes in."

"Lucas is coming home? How nice! You didn't say..."

"He's only staying over night--he's leaving again tomorrow," and he blushed so nearly red that Martha was struck by it.

"Well, that's...nice. Tell him I said hello."

Lex nodded and hurried her along a bit. "I'll do that," he said.

The wind from the rotors slapped Lex's coat around his legs, he leaned back and narrowed his eyes to protect them from air-borne grit. The helicopter touched down and seconds later Lucas was climbing out, impeccably dressed--obviously he came straight from the office. A single bag slung over his shoulder was his only luggage. Lex breathed a little easier.

He really was there only for the weekend.

Lucas shouted something and the helicopter angled off into the sky again, and he turned towards Lex with a frown. Lex started to greet him but Lucas walked silently past him, intent on the house. Lex had to hurry to catch up. Lucas strode swiftly through the house, past the downstairs rooms and up the stairs, down the hallway and unerringly straight to Lex's room, where he threw his bag on the floor, reached out, wrapped his hand in Lex's shirt collar and pulled him to his mouth. The sturdy cotton material rasped across Lex's throat, burning his skin. He made a little sound of protest and Lucas laughed into his mouth and kicked the door shut. Lucas mauled him with lips and teeth, nipping and licking, sucking on his tongue and biting everywhere, his teeth were in his jaw, his neck--it was just this side of painful and his mouth was warming and filled with a metallic taste.... Lucas slammed Lex's head back against the wall and Lex barked his ear painfully turning his head too quickly. Lucas sank his teeth into he long line of exposed neck and shoved a leg between Lex's, bearing down on him, grinding his erection against Lex's thigh.

"Fuck--I missed you so much. I'm dying without you, and you won't come home--" he growled and pushed harder, Lex tried to push away, but Lucas held him against the wall with his solid body, and Lex could never bring himself to really hurt Lucas.

He folded, and slumped--Lucas held him up with a fist in his throat and with his leg and fucked his thigh, told him how much he needed him and how he wanted him, and kissed him, the kisses slowly getting deeper and wetter and messier, until Lucas gasped and yanked Lex's zipper down, and wrapped his blunt fingers around Lex's hardening dick and squeezed before making him strip.

Lex's shoes and socks came off, pants and briefs were kicked out of the way; he was naked except for his shirt and Lucas's hand. Lucas jerked him off like he hated him and with the other hand shoved the shirt up to his neck and touched him like he might shatter. The contrast was making him dizzy.

Lex moaned, and felt like he was falling, he grabbed handfuls of Lucas' shirt and meant to steady himself and Lucas bit him hard--jerked Lex harder and faster and Lex bit his lip violently to hold in the scream that was building, he ripped apart the edges of the shirt balled in his fists and buttons flew and clicked against the wall and rolled under their feet. Lucas gripped Lex's thighs in each broad hand and lifted, Lex wrapped his legs around his waist and his arms around his neck, Lucas pulled his dick free.

"Gonna hurt," he muttered and pushed in one shove--it was shocking and painful and burned all the way in--Lucas immediately set a frantic rhythm and Lex concentrated on not screaming. Lucas grunted with each thrust and Lex's hard -on wilted until Lucas growled in his ear, "You and me forever--" he laughed, "You'll have to kill me to get rid of me," and pulled out. Lex dropped to the floor, panting for breath, his legs were too shaky to move. He hardened again under Lucas's intense, searing look of hunger... "Fuck, look at you, you're beautiful, I want to be in you again, your ass, your mouth...god--" Lucas' breath steadied, he held out a hand to Lex and pulled him to his feet. Lucas wrapped his arms around his waist and held him up, danced him backward, touching, being touched, until the edge of the bed clipped the back of his knees and dumped them onto the bed. Lex rolled over to his stomach and raised his ass, his head on his crossed arms, fingers clutched in the sheet...Lucas shuddered looking at him. He searched the drawer of the night table and brought out a small bottle of lubricant and crawled across the bed, straddled Lex's legs. He leaned over him and licked as light as a cat down his cleft, pressing his cheeks apart to kiss teasingly around the puckered circle of muscle. He chuckled when Lex whimpered, lifted to circle his hips in an effort to guide his tongue closer to the hole. He upended the bottle of lube and spilled the contents over Lex's ass, letting it run into his cleft and down his back; it rolled between his shoulder blades and dripped off his body, ruining the sheets. The rest he dribbled over his dick, until he was oiled the length of his shaft and began slowly stroking the lube into Lex, pushing it inside of him, this time Lucas touched him carefully, searching for the spot inside that made him curl over and lose all sense of self. Over and ovr he touched inside, moving so slow it was torturous and Lex screamed out "Fuck me--" his voice broke, "Fuck me, please."

Lucas' laugh was low and nasty. "Oh yeah--that is the plan."

He pushed in slowly, the muscle yielding bit by bit until the head of his dick popped in, and slid forward, smoothly this time, and Lex groaned. It made him so weak, this sensation--he could feel his body give way to it, his head swam with the feeling, for a moment he held his breath and concentrated on the heat that spread from his ass, swelling from that point outwards to every nerve in his body and rushing back to collect in his dick and tighten his balls. He bit into the smooth sheets and let his mind fill with the visions that kept him halfway sane, filled his mouth with cotton to keep from screaming out the name that plagued him....

Clark stopped a few feet from the head of the driveway and watched the sun beginning to set behind his house. The house looked like it was glowing in the last light of the sun, the golden light made the yellow paint seem to blaze, the white trim shone like new snow.

It was home, and inside, waiting for him, were the people who loved him just because he was who he was. He walked up the drive and cast a critical eye at everything -he could see the gutters needed a cleaning before Fall tried to pack them with more leaves, the trees on the left side of the house needed trimming...the barn looked like it could use a little work...he was at the foot of the porch steps when the screen door banged open and his mom was on him, hugging him hard and plastering his cheek with a big wet kiss.

"Mom! Stop! You'll embarrass me in front of the guys!" He mock-whined and scrubbed at his cheek. She laughed and pretended to push him towards the door.

"Come on in--dinner's waiting and so's your dad."

He walked into the kitchen, and stopped to inhale the wonderful smells, some of his very favorites--chicken, gravy and mashed potatoes...and apple pie! His dad was sitting at the table ostensibly reading the newspaper but his eyes shone when Clark made his way over to him and he grinned from ear to ear when Clark leaned over the back of his chair and enveloped him in a huge hug.

Jonathan laughed and squeezed Clark's elbows, all that he could reach of him. "Hey, weren't you just here? Two visits in two weeks, we won't know how to act!" he grinned at Clark and sighted over his shoulder. "You didn't bring Bruce with you--or are you leaving right away again?"

Clark's bright smile dimmed a little and Martha came over to squeeze his shoulder. "Is everything all right, honey?"

"Oh sure," Clark smiled quickly, "Yes, everything is fine. Dandy."

Jonathan looked at him and raised an eyebrow, "Dandy, hunh? You sure?"

"Well, Bruce and I--we're not--we're more like friends now." It seemed Clark was testing the words, feeling them in his mouth. Checking them for rightness. He said again, "Just friends," like it was part of an odd puzzle. Jonathan looked angry for a second. "Did he--he didn't do anything, did he?"

"Like what?" Clark asked, confused. "No, no--it was mutual. We just kind of outgrew each other--in that way," he mumbled and reddened as the words stumbled off his tongue.

Clark couldn't bring himself to say that Bruce had sent him packing with stern orders to figure out what the hell it was that he really wanted--not unkindly, just kind of Bruce and blunt. It wasn't the end of the world. They cared for each other, quite a lot actually--but it wasn't love, not in the way his parents loved each other. It had just been a wonderful arrangement that lately seemed to fit...not as well as it had. And that was Lara's fault. Or Lex's fault or maybe Lucas--anyway--it was someone's fault. He glanced over to see his mother looking at him with an odd speculative expression. It made him feel uncomfortably as if the AI was diagnosing him. After a really fine dinner and the best pie there ever was--he knew his mom claimed he said it every time, but this time it really was true-he strolled over to the Fortress of Solitude. He smiled when he entered the barn. Fortress of Solitude... it had seemed so true at the time they named it. He'd had no idea what solitude really meant when he was a kid....

His life was the fucking definition of solitude. And the only person he felt comfortable enough to let into his life was a sarcastic, possibly psychotic guy with a hero complex and a twisted sense of humor who seemed to think that he was getting more out of their relationship then he gave. Clark laughed bitterly. Batman--poor crazy Bruce--wasn't getting anything from Clark. Clark knew he took and took and took and never gave Bruce anything in return...all those nights in the Fortress--the real one--waking up screaming--waking up burning with rage so deep he wanted to kill--Bruce took all those horrible memories away and gave him a little peace...and swore Clark was giving him something. What? What the hell was he giving Bruce?

Trust, he'd said. There was nothing more fulfilling, more moving than to give some one complete trust. Bruce said it shook him how much Clark was willing to trust. Clark thought Bruce was being an idiot. Trust had nothing to do with what he felt. He knew Bruce wouldn't hurt him because he couldn't. It was impossible for him to truly hurt him. He'd watched Bruce, came to know him, observed his personality and knew he had traits that precluded him from fatally injuring another being. That was not trust. That was logic. Trust. Lara exhorted him to trust--it was very irritating. His human mother hinted that he was lacking something. How could she understand? He could not depend on some phantasmal quality that humans professed to consider so important--if it could be measured and observed and tested, he believed.

Clark shook himself, the sun had set, it was full dark and the barn was cooling rapidly...geez, how long had he been daydreaming out here?

He clicked on a small lamp that cast just enough light to make out shapes, pulled out the couch and made it up with the sheets that were tucked inside. A pair of silky boxers were shoved down into the side of the sleeper. He colored when he realized they were Bruce's and remembered how they'd got in there. He grinned, and shivered when his hand brushed against his bare skin as he undressed. That had been some intense night...he liked it when Bruce wanted to role play, and all his high school stuff still hanging around had been the basis for a very interesting game--high school innocent and the billionaire...he shivered again and his dick began to rise, jerking against his feather light strokes. Bruce holding his head against the mattress, fucking him with his fingers and talking...telling him things, what he wanted to do--

Clark grit his teeth in annoyance when the fantasy billionaire turned into the tall slim bald version...fuck! Clark lay down on the couch and frowned into the darkness. Crap! He was being stalked by Lex--the one in his mind. Every time he tried to jerk off, Lex was standing there, killing it for him. Clark sighed. He didn't want to think about Lex.

His dick jerked.

He really didn't want to think about Lex, he closed his eyes and practiced not thinking about him...Lex on his knees...Lucas looking at him with a weird expression of lust and triumph and...Clark frowned...pain, some kind of agony--his hand slipped down his belly, over the thick line of hair that trailed down from his navel. His dick surged against his palm as images rose in his mind....

/// Lex was bent over again, the dress riding up to his hips again but his time he was looking down on the scene from above, this time Lex's dress was pushed up over his hips and Lucas was behind him--Lex had his arms braced against the chair and was sobbing. Clark could see Lucas's thick dick gliding in and out of Lex, who threw his head back and howled...///

Clark snapped his head back and forth and groaned--he was sick, sick...his stomach did a slow roll and churned, his face flamed and he felt a little lost. Feeling this way confused him and made him feel sad, and sometimes made him afraid to sleep, because he shouldn't feel this way...it was why he needed Bruce, why he punished himself over and over, to drive away the sight of Lex and the look on his face when Lucas was ...doing that to him--

And now comes this new vision of Lex, in between Lucas' knees, wrapped so tight in that shiny black sheath it must have been hard to breathe and his ass...He was disgusted with himself, but still so hard and dripping and his hand inched it's way down, nails scratching softly over his skin and he pushed up under his balls and teased himself, his fingertip mimicked the movements of Lucas in Lex....

///...he stood next to the chair Lucas sat in and watched...he could see Lucas' dick moving in and out of the lipsticked mouth, veins traced the skin his hands remembered as being velvety smooth and so hot, now streaked with gloss, shiny and wet, and ...he could smell Lucas, feel the heat, Lex's blonde hair hung over his face, gleaming strands pasted against him as sweat beaded his forehead and saliva rolled down his chin. Lucas reached out and cupped him, pressing against the heat and hardness throbbing under his palm. "You want to fuck him, while he does me? Go ahead, he'll love it."

Clark stroked the skin pulled tight over Lex's hipbones, his fingertips tingling, gliding over satin smooth skin...he pushed into Lex, feeling so hot--fire raced up his body and filled his head--all he could do was groan and push in and watch Lex suck his brother off and cry...

And this time, he sat in the chair, and his dick was flooded with warmth and wet...he looked down the length of his body, and watched his dick disappear between Lex's lips, so shiny and wet and red...Lex looked up at him through a veil of blonde, hairs tickled and stroked his thighs and he groaned out loud when Lex sank down on him until his dick nudged the back of his throat ...Lex pulled off until the tip of his dick sat on his lips, and the gloss made it smoother, slick--he could catch a scent of fruit in the air ...Lex rubbed the head over his open mouth, the tip of his tongue slipping around the ridge and Clark stuttered `please'--Lex smiled. "We have time," and slid down his dick again.

He heard a noise and in the shadows he could just make out Lucas, stroking himself and whispering orders, telling Lex what to do--telling him what Clark liked, what got him off...he was so hot it hurt, he was deep in the sensations Lex gave him, loving his lips around him, his tongue twisting around his dick, pressing into the slit and sucking hard on the head, he was deep into the feeling of Lex's slim fingers sliding in and out of him, stroking him into a dizzying ecstasy, he was deep into the sound of Lucas' fist flying over his own erection, sounding wetter and wetter and--

And suddenly there were no clothes, no wig, no make-up and Clark jerked nearly upright--it was just Lex, naked and hard and holding his hand out, "Clark, come on, I need you." ////

He arched as the orgasm raced through him, and for a blissful moment he wasn't anywhere or anyone, just the center of an explosion of ecstasy and then...he was falling, he was dropping from a great height and he was afraid--his eyes flew open and he sprawled across the mattress, blinking at the rafters in confusion, feeling hot liquid cooling on his body, his skin slowly cooling from his fever heat. He was back, awake again. And so completely fucked up.

His eyes welled up and he wished again with a fervor that amounted to prayer--hoped with every fiber of his being, that what he did as Superman canceled out or at least balanced what he was as Clark.

Clark was leaning over the utility sink in the corner of the barn, taking his time washing out the brushes he used to paint the barn.

He'd gotten up early enough that his mom and dad were still sleeping and started painting at mostly human speed, just to clear his mind. He'd managed to force out all thoughts of Lex and just kind of hum along, not thinking. He could hear the cows shuffling about in the sheds, and the movements of mice--and the cats hunting them...he'd concentrated on letting his hearing drop into normal range and just enjoyed the simple movement of brush up and brush down and the slowly warming sun on his back....

He watched the deep red tinted water swirl down the drain and his mind was pleasantly blank. For the moment, he had nothing to think about, nothing needed his attention and he was content. The sound of footsteps behind him brought him back to the here and now, reluctantly. His pleasant daze was already evaporating...

"Clark?"

"Yes, Mom?" He turned to face her and sighed. Great. She had the same look on her face as last night at dinnertime, that speculative, searching look. No good was coming of that, he thought.

"I'd like to talk to you about Lex."

"What?" Clark nearly squeaked and glanced down at himself, turned bright red. Was she suddenly psychic? Could she tell that--"Why?"

"Well, I've been thinking--he and I have gotten to be pretty good friends lately--"

What? The hell? Friends? "Wait, you're telling me...you've been talking to that guy? He's--he's a very bad guy, Mom!"

She had the nerve to roll her eyes at him, and went on. "I know all about your opinions concerning the Luthors, dear--" Clark sputtered, but forced himself to quiet when Martha held her hands up "--but I have a feeling there's so much more happening there that we just don't know."

He scrubbed violently at the brush in his hand and winced when a handful of bristles washed down the drain with the paint. Darn! "I don't care. I don't want you talking to him. When I get back to Metropolis--the heck with that--I'm going to go and tell him to keep the hell away from you right now! Sick son-of -a -bitch! Damn it!" The bristle-less brush cracked in his hand and he tossed it down to grab another...forced himself to be gentle. "Clark! Watch your language!" she reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his shirt, and hung on tight. "Lex has been unfailingly polite and very kind and...nice, just nice."

Clark waved his free arm in frustration, "Mom--you don't understand. He's a--a mobster, a criminal! And a very, very bad man."

"Clark--I think you're wrong."

"Mom, just `cause he's polite and stuff doesn't make him a good guy--coral snakes are pretty too! And his brother--"

"We're talking about him, not his brother...but I think there's a lot to talk about there, isn't?"

Clark blushed fiercely and frowned and refused to speak.

Martha shook her head. "I know about Lucas."

Clark dropped the brush into the sink, splattering himself. His voice shook when he spoke. "You do?"

His mom nodded. "I know you thought we didn't know but it was obvious...the signs were there."

Clark felt the blood rush out of his face, he felt cold and sick. "--you knew? How? I didn't! I didn't know he was having sex with his brother until--I was so--I hated them both--I hate them!"

Martha dropped down onto a stool, white as a ghost, so white she looked green...she stared at Clark in horror, her hand at her mouth. "Sex...with...oh my God. Oh...my God." Her eyes were unfocused, and she looked so ill that Clark was afraid.

"But...but you said...oh." Clark dropped to the floor and wrapped his arms around her knees. He laid his head on her lap and rocked back and forth. "I've...besides Bruce no one knew until now...Lucas..."

I thought you meant he was your boyfriend...oh my God...I would never have imagined that. Oh my God. That's..." she shook her head, and stroked Clark's hair. "Poor twisted screwed up boys."

Clark jerked away and glared at his mom. "Poor boys? They're sick! Perverts!" Clark's face screwed up and for a moment he looked like a little boy. "He ruined my life!"

Martha held her hands out to Clark. "Sweetheart, love, what you've been going through all these years--why didn't you say something?" She looked guilty as Clark took her hand. "Your father always felt something wasn't right with Lucas, but I never saw it. I feel so---so horrible for Lex."

Clark wanted to scream Dad was right--but he couldn't. He couldn't cross that one line and he didn't know why. Lucas was a killer, he killed every day, one way or another but this one horrible crime--it wouldn't cross his lips, he couldn't say out loud Lucas killed his own father--and somehow Lex let it happen. Lex--"Why is Lex calling you anyway--" he stopped at the look on his mom's face. "He's here? What's he doing in Smallville--they don't own the castle anymore."

"Clark, now calm down..."

"Oh, what-- they have it back? When were you going to tell me that?"

"Clark! I promised him I wouldn't tell you..."

Why? So he can corrupt you at his leisure?"

"Clark!" Martha slapped him on the head. "Calm down! He asked me not to tell so you wouldn't get disturbed--and I see he was right. He wanted you to relax, enjoy your time home. And Clark--he knows about you."

"Wha--what..." A dozen different guilty images flashed through his mind--the podium at the fortress and it's torture scenarios, watching him from mid-air--screaming his name into the sheets--so fucked....

"He knows you're Superman. I don't know how...he didn't say in so many words, but I know he does."

Clark swayed, he felt nauseous....how? How did he know...Clark's mind zipped through all the security precautions he took--how could he have found out? And if Lex knew, Lucas surely knew but...why hadn't they acted on it? Clark glowered towards the castle. He needed to be stopped.

"Clark, if you do one thing to disturb him, you'll be in trouble with me. You have no idea how fragile he is, he's ready to break...and no wonder." She looked so disturbed, Clark deeply regretted telling her, and it made him want to hurt Lex.

"He needs someone to help him, I can tell." She looked at Clark. "Whatever is going on with him, it's obvious it's not something that makes him happy. You need to see the Lex I see, Clark. He's like a lost little boy."

"You keep out of it, Mom. You keep away from him. I know what they're like and you don't want to have anything to do with them. It's evil."

Martha raised her eyebrows. "Evil? You're able to make that judgment? Oh, yes, excuse me, I forgot. You're Superman." She walked out of the barn without another word.

Clark stared at the open doors. Of course he was right; it was evil what they were doing. He knew what was going on with them, the drugs and sex and hurting innocent people....

He looked down at his shirt. It was covered with red splatters, as if he'd been splashed with blood. Since being with Bruce--using his abilities--he'd become all too familiar with the sight. He tried to imagine it was Lex's blood and his stomach turned over. He didn't want it to be--he didn't want it to be Lucas' either.

Pretty much, he just wished it'd never happened. He wished it were over. It was dragging him down, this hatred, making him sick and tired and desperate for peace that was coming at a higher and higher price. And he knew Lex's accident--the fall from the balcony--wasn't simply that.

He went into the house, and finally spoke that his mother. "Mom. I...I think Lex might have tried to kill himself."

His mother whipped around to face him. "Oh no!" she breathed. "When?"

"A few weeks ago... Lucas managed to keep it out of the national news. I. I caught him--he fell off his balcony. He was so messed up he doesn't even know what really happened, but I'm pretty sure he meant to do it."

"Oh Lord," his mother sighed. "It's worse than you thought, isn't it?"

Clark jerked his head up to her, but she was looking out the window. "Poor boy."

He came around the table and looked out the window with his mom, watched his dad hooking the mower to the tractor. Life as usual on the farm, going on like his world wasn't shredding into bits. "He's hardly a boy, Mom. He's almost thirty...old enough to make up his own mind."

"Unless he doesn't know how to," she murmured.

"What? Oh please. I remember Lex---no one could tell him to do anything--remember when he rescued the kids from the plant? He walked right in and no one could stop him. He was so brave..." Clark's voice trailed off "...he was so nice to me, he treated me like a grown-up then, like I was someone special and I wanted to be him--be just like him. Damn it--I wanted him!" He rushed from the window to the opposite side of the kitchen, his eyes closed and screwed tight in misery. "What happened? Why did he change?" He felt the pain like a punch to the gut, "What happened to me!" he almost wailed and his mom was suddenly there, warm and soft and squeezing him hard.

"Ask him, Clark--ask him-what happened. And be prepared to not like all you hear. But give him a chance. I know he wants it." She leaned back and folded her arms, looked him up and down. "You save people. It's your job--more than that, corny as it may sound, I think it's your destiny. You need to save Lex."

"I have no idea how to save him. He probably doesn't want to be `saved'. You can't tell me in six years it never occurred to him to walk away? Lucas didn't have him locked up in that apartment. I know." He blushed faintly when his mom silently cocked an eyebrow at him. "Well, sometimes...I checked. When he was alone. Mom!" He fidgeted before going on. "He's rich enough, he could have gone and done whatever he wanted. But he stayed with that guy, a guy who as far as I can tell has all the moral sense of a sociopathic shark. Bruce won't talk to him anymore," he said and sat back. That was proof positive as far as he was concerned that Lex was unsalvageable and his mom had to agree now.

"Bruce, while delightful and a joy, is also rather judgmental and holds everyone he cares for to a standard that's...unattainable for most humans." She smiled at Clark. "You probably just barely manage to meet it." Clark couldn't help but grin a little. "Yeah...and hey--don't distract me," he frowned. "Really Mom, it's terrible, some of the things they've done." Clark looked down at the table and thought about LuthorCorp, how clean it looked on the surface, how corrupt it was deep down...a corruption so well concealed that most thought of the Luthors--Lucas--as a generous and giving person. Lex had a hand in all that too. He had to...have his place in LuthorCorp.

He was just the same as Lucas. Right?

Lex shifted on his chair, tried to suppress a hiss at the sharp bite of pain. Lucas glanced over and smiled as if Lex had done something clever. Lex smoothed his expression, inclined his head and fought down the wave of rage that choked him. He concentrated on picking the white of his egg apart with his fork. He watched Lucas drink his orange juice, and read the morning newspaper. He took a sip of his own juice and looked down at his plate.

An egg over easy stared up at him, the undercooked yellow shimmering with a film of oil, a few pieces of over cooked bacon lying stiffly across it. The slightly burnt smell made his stomach roll. He picked up a piece of the toast that lay on top of a mound of shredded fried potato. The toast was slathered with butter and topped off with a thick coating of jam. He sighed.

Yesterday, his breakfast consisted of toast, no butter with a smear of jam and a cup of tea. The day before, dry toast with a smear of jam and coffee. The day before that---the same...just the way he liked it....

He took a bite of the greasy toast and laid it on his plate. Lucas folded his paper and smiled at him.

"Aren't you going to eat? It's very good. The cook knows what she's doing."

"Isn't that my line, seeing as how I'm supposed to be the host here?"

Lucas laughed. "Of course you are."

Lex smiled--a twitch of the lip and a flash of teeth--and pushed the plate away. "Which of course is why the cook is suddenly feeding me your favorite breakfast." He sipped the rest of his orange juice while Lucas watched with a smirk. "What are your plans for today," Lex asked and set the glass carefully on a napkin, checking to make sure it was squarely in the center--

"I thought I might visit the town before I leave."

Lex looked at him, trying to cover the flash of alarm that he felt. "Oh? Since when do you give a shit about Smallville?" "Since now," he grinned and stood, brushing crumbs from his lap. "I think I should check it out--after all, I'm thinking of investing in this backwater again."

Lex stared at him.

Lucas walked out of the room. "I'll tell you later." He called over his shoulder and was gone.

Lex sat staring at the table. Should he follow him? Lucas had something on his mind. Something that was going to hurt in the long run, that much he was sure of. Lucas loved him; he told him that constantly and then did things that hurt him like no one else could. He tossed his napkin on the plate of grease coated food and shoved away from the table.

He'd come to Smallville to think, to gain the strength to do what he should have done years ago--end this thing with Lucas. He knew he could do it now--for the both of them, for a chance at a normal life again. It was never too late for a second chance.

Martha heard the unmistakable sound of the Porsche engine roaring past the Talon--she smiled, knelt to fill the baked goods case and waited for her friend. When she heard footsteps a few minutes later she glanced up, beautifully tailored slacks and a long black coat caught her eye-- with a big smile and a fresh muffin ready she looked up to greet Lex.

"Oh!"

Lucas smiled at her. "Martha! What a pleasure to see you. Lex told me about your little business venture." He turned in a circle, admiring the shop. "It's really very...special. Pink. Nice." He turned to her and smirked. "And may I say, you look wonderful? You haven't changed a bit in all these years. You're as beautiful as ever. Jonathan's a lucky man."

Martha stood and tried not to frown. "Lucas. How are you."

"Why Martha--you don't seem pleased to see me. That hurts, you know. I thought about you so many times over the years." He sighed and shook his head. "I've noticed that no one else seems very happy to see me either. Is it because of the plant? The farms? Or is it just me?" he pouted and clasped his hands in front of him.

Martha glared at him silently, her lips pressed together in a tight line. She was trying to find something of the boy that had seemed so sweet--some sign of the boy that Clark had once been attracted to. This man in front of her was--she shook her head. A jackass. A creep. She took in his smirk and the knowing eyes crawling over her and got the chilling feeling....

"What's the matter? Disappointed I'm not my brother? You and he are pretty good friends, I hear. I bet you two have a lot to talk about." His eyes were like chips of blue ice.

He knows that I know...

She stepped closer, into his personal space and growled, "Leave Lex alone. Let him live his life. Stop this, this...thing."

She stared into his blue, blue eyes and her hands tightened into fists at her side. Lucas caught the move and focused his whole being on her--his eyes went cold and flat and so dark they looked black and a long cold sliver of fear speared her. He kept staring and the fear grew, deepened and froze her bones and she fought to keep it from showing on her face but a warm spark deep in his eyes let her know she failed.

His expression was blank--flat--"You think that's all it takes?" He spoke and his voice was low and intimate as a lover's. "Just--leave him alone? He doesn't want me to. He loves me--loves this. You and your stupid kid keep away from us, you hear me? If you don't want any problems...you definitely want to leave Lex alone." He grinned suddenly, wide and so innocent, so sweetly open that it staggered her and made her think for a second that she'd imagined the threat--there was no possible way this angelic boy had just threatened her....

"Lucas, I'd like you to leave now. I'm not going to tell anyone what you said--just leave, and leave us alone."

"Us?" Lucas laughed. "Oh, okay, no problem." He turned and walked away. "I'll see you another day." He winked and waved.

Martha stood in front of the counter and willed her muscles to relax; her hands unclenched and shook as she spread them back against the cool glass.

"Mrs. Kent, are you okay?" Lisa, one of her waitress' stood behind her, a tray in her hands. Martha glanced around, noticed that the caf had filled during her conversation with Lucas and she was suddenly aware of chatter and movement...it was like coming back from another dimension.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine, sweetie,' she said quickly and smiled, grabbed a cloth and turned to wipe the counter down. Clark had to help. Especially now, he had to help.

Lucas drove back to the castle, rage fueling him and driving the car to it's limits. He roared around corners and screamed down straight aways.

That fucking bitch! Who the fuck did she think she was? Playing with him was like jumping into a tiger cage...maybe he should give her a hint of how dangerous it could be to piss him off. Fucking Clark too, he needed a hint. He'd been way too fucking lenient with him, out of some stupid misguided sense of...nostalgia or, or...he slowed a little, ahead of him he could see that bridge. Weird, it hadn't registered before but now...he pulled over and stopped the car. The memories of that day were so clear: the water, how cold it was, how his lungs had ached and the fear--he'd been so terrified. If he'd lost Lex that day, he wouldn't have survived.

He leaned his head against the steering wheel. Why the fuck couldn't he see that all of this was for him? Every fucking thing he did was for Lex's sake, for love. It was his mission, his charge to fix this fucking mess of a world so his lover could be safe and he could be content. The world crawled with bastards who wanted to hurt them and he'd find them all and erase them. For Lex. So much work to do, every day, all the time, and god he was so tired. He couldn't rest. Lucas shook his head. He was working so hard every day for Lex--the least he could do was show some gratitude.

That was all he wanted. A little gratitude. Love. Was that so much to ask?

He got out of the car and walked over to the bridge and leaned against the railing. He looked over the side. Had the water always been so murky, he wondered. He remembered it as being clear.

Lex, god damn it, Lex...couldn't he see how much he was loved; every time they had sex it was like a miracle. God, it was like, like the world was exploding every time he touched Lex, whenever he fucked him it felt like his mind, his soul was expanding--it felt like the end of the world. It was so beautiful--just thinking about it made him hard....

Tears filled his eyes and he felt a little prick of grief. He knew how Lex felt about him, the truth was like a hole ripped into the center of him that had to be filled...sometimes it made him crazy; sometimes so angry he needed to hurt back. Lucas rested his arms on the railing and leaned his chin on his hands, stared into the river. Tears dripped from his chin and spun away into the brown water below him.

One day all this world would be Lex's toy--maybe when he gave it to him, he'd finally think Lucas was worthy of him.

"I'm back." He strolled into the entertainment room, grinning from ear to ear, hands in his pocket and a swagger in his walk. "How was your afternoon? Mine was pretty amusing."

Lex raised an eyebrow and tried to look supremely uninterested in Lucas' afternoon. He held up his hand, slim fingers tucked between the pages of a book. "I've been reading--and waiting for you to come back. I want to talk to you."

"Wait," Lucas said and tossed his jacket on the couch. "I meant to tell you this before but I got...distracted. I'm thinking about moving us back to Smallville." He nodded at Lex's startled glance. "I've got a contract with the military that involves re-opening the plant. They want to experiment with the Smallville meteorites. It appears they have a pretty dramatic negative effect on Superman." He came around and sat next to Lex.

"Experiment? In what way--are they instituting a clean up operation to protect him?" Lex felt a weak wave of vertigo--moving back to Smallville...that was wrong.

Lucas laughed, a startled and incredulous laugh. "Hon...they want a weapon if they need it. He's dangerous, can't you see?"

He jumped up and stalked around the room. "Sure, now he's our friend, our savior, Superman, the self-sacrificing, noble protector of the innocent. The big fucking Boy Scout. But what happens when he gets tired of giving something for nothing, when he realizes that he can be the ruler of the innocent, hmm? We'd need a pretty fucking big stick then." He leaned against the back of the couch and rested his chin on Lex's head. "And that's what our country wants me--Cadmus--to help create. Just in case, of course...in case he should go bad--" he kissed Lex's head and jumped over the back of the couch, landed next to him, "--or he gets on my very last nerve."

Lucas laughed brightly. "It's nice our nation's interests and mine coincide like this, I'm getting paid to do what I've been planning to do for free and it helps fund a little project of mine." He winked at Lex. "Of course as far as the town of Smallville is concerned, it's a clean up operation--the government finally noticed the incredibly high cancer rates, put two and two together and blah-fuckin' blah. We get what we want, the DOD gets what they want and Smallville gets jobs...I'm seeing this as win-win for all of us." He laughed and jumped up again, poured them both drinks from the bar. "I'm feeling pretty damn good right now. Help me celebrate!" Lex stared down at the book in his hands and tossed it aside. He looked up into Lucas' bright eyes. "Sure--why not?"

"Harder, more, come on..."

"I can't--"

"Oh yes you can, come on, harder..."

Lex pushed forward, goaded by Lucas, wrapped a hand around the back of each knee, feeling the skin slip over muscle and bone as he dug his thumbs in, lifted and pulled Lucas' legs wider apart. He thrust in hard--they were both going to be bruised in the morning--he slammed his hips against Lucas' faster, faster, reaching that point where pain and pleasure became interchangeable. He wrapped his hand around Lucas' dick, and squeezed and pumped, faster and harder than he would ever do to himself until Lucas flushed red from face to belly and he arched off the bed...he let go and Lucas dropped back down, his dick straining upwards and pouring come over his belly. "Don't--fuck--fuck--ah!"

Lex shivered--he felt his orgasm start in a tight hot wave behind his balls, roar out of him--so intense he couldn't breathe or see or move...he was trapped in the furnace of Lucas' body, tight as a glove around him, so tight it felt as if he was being swallowed by him--

He lay loose limbed and weak against him, sweat and come gluing their skins together, his dick soft against Lucas' thigh. Lucas' chest heaved against his hammering heart. He felt pulse points all over his body throbbing. It had been intense, scary... "Why?"

"Hunh? Why what?" Lucas groaned and shifted under Lex.

"Why'd you want me to fuck you--"

"Why the hell not?" Lucas rolled Lex off of him. "What--you didn't like it?" He reached over to the night table and grabbed the end of a joint lying in the ashtray, lit it. "Shit," he inhaled and held it, passed it over to Lex. "Don't get used to it." He exhaled and grinned. "I just...it's been a real long time since I've gotten fucked, that's all. I just felt like it."

Lex nodded, feeling his lungs flutter from holding his breath too long. He gasped in air and stretched against Lucas' heat. Okay. That made as much sense as anything his brother said or did. Maybe it was his idea of a gift. Lucas got out of bed and walked to the bathroom and Lex watched him--he knew every bit of that body, the muscles sliding and tightening, the trail of hair that started in the middle of his back and worked down, the dusting of hair over his smooth taut ass--he knew how it felt under his hands, his lips, his tongue...his stomach flipped and he burned in a combination of shame and lust-- he knew he'd made the right decision.

The bed shifted and the movement woke Lex from the shallow sleep he'd drifted into. Lucas sat at the end of the bed, damp but dressed in a black suit and dark gray shirt and tie. He smiled when he saw that Lex was awake again and leaned over, bit lightly at Lex's cheekbone, the tie dragged over his chest and made him shiver. "I'll call you tonight. And I don't want you talking to the Kents. At least not for a little while, okay. Distance yourself, you know what I mean." Lucas stood to leave and Lex grabbed his wrist so tight he could feel the bones shift under his fingers.

"Don't you fucking dare do anything to the Kent's, you hear?"

Lucas lowered his eyebrows and snarled. "Let go."

"So help me god, if you do anything to hurt them, I'll--I'll hurt you back. I mean it."

Lucas' face crumbled. "Fine! Fine--I won't touch them. As long as you stay away from them, I won't touch them."

Lex nodded and Lucas ripped his wrist out of his grasp. When he got to the door Lex called him. His cheeks were red, his eyes narrowed, but wet when he looked at him.

Lex stepped quickly to his side. He took his face in both his hands and said, "I do love you."

Lucas looked hopeful at first and then angry. "Of course you do." He said, and his voice was bitter but he smiled when he reached up to pull Lex's hands away. Lex stopped him.

. "No--I mean it. I love you."

Lucas was still for a long moment, and then hugged him. He held him silently for a long moment and then pulled away. "I have to go--I'll call you tonight." He touched Lex's cheek. "Thank you."

He pulled the door shut behind him and Lex rolled against it, his knees shaking. I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm really sorry. No matter what he did he was going to hurt Lucas and the thought of that was strangely painful. He just didn't feel he had a choice. Staying with Lucas hurt too much, leaving Lucas hurt too much...living with no hope of Clark hurt beyond bearing...he shrugged off the weight of his thoughts and went for the phone. First things first--he had to warn the Kents.

"Martha--I need to warn Clark about Lucas and you need to get in touch with Bruce--Bruce is the best person to help him...."

A few hours later he was neck deep in a tub full of hot scented water, candles around him and a fire laid out in the fireplace, It was overly dramatic perhaps, all this flickering flame, but he really did enjoy the glow of candlelight, firelight. It relaxed him--reminded him of happier times...mornings shared with his dad, his mom, a fire crackling and cocoa on brisk mornings, Lucas sitting in his lap and babbling on about school or some new story he'd read--flashlights under the blankets and ghost stories told in secret. He remembered sitting on his bed and candles on every surface in his room, the light dancing over Lucas' face as he lied about some conquest he'd made in the club that night or made fun of mutual acquaintances, each of them trying to see who could make the other laugh the hardest....

His mind drifted towards the day on the bridge...he sighed. The day he felt sure his life would have changed if it hadn't derailed long before then...he felt as if he'd lived some stranger's life--he knew it in his soul this life was not his. He woke up every morning seeing Clark's face, every night he went to sleep with his name in his mouth...Clark...was supposed to be his, and they were supposed to be happy forever together.

Not like this.

He belched quietly and drank more champagne. He was getting maudlin now, a solitary drunk, getting plastered in the tub. But a drunk with some class, he thought as the candles flickered around him and music filled the air. Definitely not your ordinary drunk, no sir or madam--he had style, thank you, even if he was living a nightmare that should have been a dream, he lived it with style and he was going to fucking go out the same way. He moved and a splash of water extinguished a candle, he could hear the hiss of the killed flame over the music playing softly in the background. He giggled and pointed at the candle, water dripping from his finger, "Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more--it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing..." His voice echoed against the tiled walls and he snickered and swallowed another mouthful of champagne and washed down a few more pills.

He was an idiot--his whole life was an idiot's tale, full of...nothing, just huge stretches of silent, mindless, worthless-- nothing. A fat tear rolled down his cheek. He should have done this years ago but hope kept dragging him through the years.

He sighed. It only took a few days in Smallville to clear his mind enough to give him the courage to do this. He swallowed a few more pills, "What the fuck--let's go with the theme," he muttered. " `Oh true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick'...I fuckin' hope. I don't even get a kiss before I die, that sucks," he told the tiles and finished the champagne with a flourish--tossed the glass somewhere in the direction of the fireplace and dropped the empty bottle in the water...the water lapped at his chest and he was surprised how calm he felt. How warm.

He swallowed hard and fumbled at the side of the tub and picked up a razor blade. He turned it over in his fingers and watched the light catch on it. The fucking thing looked sinister--like it was waiting for his blood...He took a deep breath and sliced--jerked it away from his skin.

Fuck! It hurt more than he thought it would. He sliced again and jerked forward, it hurt like...his heart sped up and his chest started to squeeze. He bit his lip and cut again. Should it hurt this much, why the fuck weren't the pills working... he pressed harder and it still hurt, blood finally started to flow and the razor slipped out of his slick fingers...Fuck, fuck, fuck...it fell over the side of the tub, he stood and reached down for it, slipped and slammed his head against the porcelain. The pain made stars fill his head and the impact sounded unbelievably loud to his ears...he fell back and into the water, pushing waves out onto the floor.

The cuts he'd managed to make bled freely in the wet heat and he slipped beneath the pink water.

Clark...*

"He did what!" Clark was so furious, his eyes sparkled, red seemed to roll around the irises. Martha called out his name sharply and he snapped his eyes shut. She walked swiftly to the bottom of the porch where he stood, carefully not squeezing the porch rail.

"Clark--he's trying to scare us away from Lex...and doing pretty darn well, I have to say. He's afraid that we'll give Lex the strength to separate from him, don't you see? As long as Lex is off balance, as long as he thinks Lucas is the only one who can ground him he's going to stay. He thinks Lucas is all he has, so he clings to him." Clark shook his head angrily. "Are you saying he doesn't know what he's doing is wrong? Then why did he try to kill himself?"

Martha looked away from Clark, her expression pained. "Because he does know it's wrong--and I think he probably feels he has no where else to go but...out of this world."

"That's ridiculous! He could have left Lucas anytime and if he felt he needed help, there are a million places he could have gotten it. He's rich for fu--dge sake."

"Lucas took over his life. For all intents and purposes, he brainwashed Lex into believing they only had each other. He made Lex dependent on him, pampered him and coddled him and gave him whatever it took to keep him happy and quiet."

Clark looked ill. "Kept him like a pet. He trained him...."

Martha nodded. "It's a lot easier to do then you'd think. And Lucas would swear he loves Lex and everything he does is for his benefit. He is a seriously disturbed and frightening young man." She shivered. "Clark, when I looked in his eyes, it was like staring over the edge of a cliff into some... dark hell."

Clark stared at her; she was really shook--it wasn't like her to be so vocal about being frightened.

As if he sensed Martha's upset, Jonathan was there, rubbing her shoulders before sitting down on the step. "Son. Your mother has been worried sick about Lex since he's come back. I have to say--I'm worried about him too. You know, at first all you see is this guy looking down his nose at you, and then suddenly, there's this frightened kid peeking out from around the edges and you just have to help--even when he pushes you away." Jonathan half-smiled. "Sometimes he reminds me of you."

Clark jerked back, immediately irate. "I'm nothing like him!" He stared at his dad, horrified until he realized--his mom hadn't told his dad the whole story....

Martha looked right into Clark's eyes and the message was clear--this is between us...*--"I think what your dad means is that you can both be stubborn, and angry, and sometimes a little withdrawn--but you both have such a huge capacity to love." She sighed when Clark frowned and she leaned against Jonathan. Nothing she could say would change Clark's mind. At least, not right away.

"Clark," his dad asked again. "Lex took a risk to warn you about Lucas. You owe him at least a thank you for that."

Clark frowned even deeper but nodded. "Okay, I'll call him later tonight."

"Clark--we think you should go see him. Talk to him. Now would be nice," his dad smiled.

"Lex--" Fuck Lex and fuck thank you, he wanted to say...but the feeling wasn't as true as it used to be.

"All right,"--damn it, he was getting it--Lex was kind of a victim too. Lex was damaged; fragile, poor little thing, blah-blah crap...Lex was his mother's project now and honestly he didn't know whether to feel jealous or sorry for him. "All right! I'm going--and Lucas better not be there or else..."

Clark slipped into the castle, and grinned slightly at how easy it was, just like the old days. A minute spark of warmth glowed before he frowned. Yeah. The old days....

He was pretty sure Lucas was gone, which saved him having to beat him into paste for threatening Mom--now he just needed to find Lex, thank him and get the hell out, he could at least tell his parents he'd spoken to the guy and then it was over and done with.

He walked around the lower floor, listening carefully. No one was there--no staff, no Luthors, no one. Maybe Lex had left with Lucas? It was so quiet--when the Luthors had lived here the first time, there was always noise. Music, TV, games, lots of noise all the time. It might have looked like a castle but it'd always sounded like a real home. It had used to make him happy to be there.

He found himself drawn toward the room that had once been the entertainment room. He slowly looked around the edge of the door, and a chill swept over him. It was the same. It was exactly the same. If he looked over the edge of the sofa would Lex be lying there with a book resting on his chest, and a smile he used to think was just for him? He forced himself to move closer and look--there was a book on the couch, a strip of leather marking a page--there was an empty wine bottle, used glasses and a half-eaten apple on the table...it was weird. Mary Celeste weird. Or just average Smallville weird. Clark shook himself. Or, more likely, the housekeeper's night off and not weird in the least. Geez. He was getting as bad as Bruce--paranoid and spooky. Clark found himself tip-toeing out of the room, and snorted at himself. Maybe he should be paranoid--it became obvious as he moved along the house looked the same, and that was just creepy. It was as if they were trying to recreate the time spent here... he told Mom thoseguys were nuts. If she saw this, maybe she'd get it. Who does this, try to re-create the past? Bizarre.

He crept up the stairs, mounting uneasiness making him feel like he was on a tightwire...he moved past the room that Mr. Luthor had spent a lot of time in, the study. Clark's steps faltered, slowed. The room he died in. Clark's mouth went dry...God, the room he was killed in. He couldn't stop himself from opening the door, he had to look in--the room was clean, bare of any sort of furnishings, and of course there was no sign of the damage that tornado had caused. There was northing in the room to indicate any function it had ever served. He was on the move again, as if his feet were dragging him along, he walked down the long hall, passing by door after closed door until he came to a room he recognized...fuck.

Lex's bedroom.

His hand reached for the doorknob, it trembled like the breath he drew in. He swallowed and his throat was so dry it sounded like a groan. The door creaked open on the room in which his life started to explode. It was also empty. White and empty and for a moment, he felt disappointed, or betrayed or...something. He wasn't sure. It just didn't seem right somehow that the room was so featureless.

The hall dead-ended on another room, that door also closed. He could hear music, something soft playing. Possible that Lex was in after all, but he wasn't sure about going through that door, he knew he'd stepped past the boundaries already--at this point, he'd entered creepy and illegal territory, wandering around his house and looking in his rooms...he turned to go when he heard a small odd sound under the music. He listened. It was water dripping, dripping and splashing. He moved closer and listened harder-- Lex was taking a bath? He blushed instantly and growled at himself. Okay, so he was home after all. But there was no way in hell he was talking to a naked wet Lex. He turned to go when he heard a sound that stopped him in his tracks-- He recognized the sound of a heart about to shut down. He was too fucking familiar with it. Clark walked quickly to the closed door, and pushed it open. At one end of a huge and ornately decorated room a door was slightly opened and flickering light cast shadows on the darkened room's walls. Stepping through that door he saw candles, dozens and dozens of lit candles--there was a fireplace in the bathroom for crying out loud, and a tub smack in the middle of the floor, an over flowing tub--oh fuck--

He was at the side of the tub instantly, pulling Lex out from under bloody water...he had cuts all over his arms and--he listened to Lex's heart flutter. damn it. "You fucking asshole!"

The Fortress--Lara would help him. He didn't stop to think it out, he pulled Lex out of the tub and ran into the bedroom, ripped the bedspread off the bed and wrapped Lex in it like a mummy, yanked open the bedroom window and leaped into the air, Lex cradled against his chest like a baby. He had one thought in his mind, get there and get there fast. He felt his clothes whipping against him and the bedspread trying to pull away from Lex, and he pushed himself to go faster.

Minutes passed, minutes he hoped weren't too long, and then it was below them, spires stabbing at the sky like frozen waves of ice.

He stormed into the fortress. Lights immediately sprang up, and the temperature rose.

"How may I help you, Kal-El," the soothing voice came from every point of the structure and from no-where.

"Don't start," Clark snapped. "He's unconscious, he drank too much and took pills and the idiot tried to slit his wrists, God," he growled and realized that the bedspread with wet with water and blood. He had pale dry streaks of it on his hands.

A long table rose from the floor, and he set Lex down on it and peeled the ruined bedspread away from him. He arranged his limbs on the table--he was so thin, so pale and it made him so angry. "I need something to cover him with, keep him warm."

"Shortly." Lara said. "I need to examine him thoroughly before we take any other steps. He has a large amount of narcotic in his system, alcohol as you said; the nanites I will inject into his blood stream will counteract that. He's lost quite a bit of blood, but it is not life threatening. He has a concussion...a skull fracture that is healing. Ah."

"What?" Clark walked around the pale still form on the table, watching tubes and wires attach themselves to Lex, efficiently and quickly burrowing into his flesh. The sight made him wince--he'd never seen the AI at work on a human before.

"This is remarkable; Kal-El...his body heals very quickly. Not as quickly as yours, but faster by far than the average human. There are mutations--interesting. The nanites are experiencing some difficulty. His body is attempting to disable them."

"Will that interfere with his healing process?"

Lex twitched and groaned and Lara made a small non-machine like sound. After a moment his face smoothed again, he was back under. "Adjustments have been made, he should be fine in a very short time."

Clark leaned over him and stared hard. "He looks so innocent, doesn't he...he must have been a very sweet looking kid...he touched Lex's cheek. "So smooth, his skin is so fine. Like velvet." He shook his head and stepped back.

Lara's soft voice interrupted him. "Neither the alcohol and pills or his attempts to cut his wrists would have killed him."

"Oh, of course! I should have known it was all a show--and I fell for it again!" Clark growled and fixed Lex with a glare. "I rush off and bring him here all--stupid! I'm so stupid."

Lara went on as if Clark hadn't spoke, "Drowning would have killed him." There was a faint but to Clark's ears, distinctly sardonic tone to her voice. "He underestimated what it would take to terminate himself."

"Oh!" Clark said. He looked down at the floor and in a small voice said, "Fix him please. I know you can." Lara was silent for a beat. "Of course, Kal-el. I can help to accelerate his healing."

"And clean out that room. Destroy it and destroy that...that thing." The Podium. He felt his face flame with heat, disgust at himself, his need to be punished seemed ridiculous and petty in the face of this pain. He hung his head. "Destroy all of it please," he said, staring at Lex's face. Even unconscious, worry lines radiated across his forehead, pulled down the corners of his mouth...he noticed that Lara gave no response to his last command. He sighed. "You already did, didn't you?"

Silence.

"You're worse than Mom. When?"

""When you left Metropolis for Smallville, it was calculated that you'd most likely not need the images any longer. Parts of the Fortress were reconfigured. I thought it best."

Clark nodded. Why not? No one thought he could think for himself, not Mom or Dad or Bruce--why should the AI? Or, Lara, who was the AI, and then again she wasn't and it just gave him a headache sometimes thinking about how she wasn't... he shrugged. His only real friend was a paranoid vigilante, his birth mother was an artificial intelligence with a personality disorder, he was whatever the fuck he was, and it so wasn't normal on a dozen different levels and. He looked down at Lex's pinched, gray face. And how the fuck was he supposed to judge what was normal anymore?

He sighed. Mom and Dad had done a great job of raising him to live in Smallville--it just hadn't helped much to deal with the world he really lived in.

Clark fidgeted over Lex and asked Lara again, "When is he going to wake up? He's been out for hours." "Patience, Kal-El. Your parents have counseled you again and again to patience. You would do well to heed them, occasionally."

"Oh, shut up," Clark grumbled and then went stiff. Damn.

"You must leave now Kal-El."

In a blur, Clark was gone and Superman rose into the air. On the other side of the world, people were calling for Superman.

Lara was quiet for a moment and then began to speak. "Alexander Luthor. I look forward to seeing what it is that makes you unique."

/// Lex was sitting on a chair in a very white room. He was dressed all in white. It wasn't a look he felt flattered him. The room was so quiet it went beyond silence and made a sort of...anti-noise. Was that his own heartbeat he was hearing? Lex frowned.

There was light, annoyingly so. The light came from all over; it was just on the edge of being too bright, and he couldn't stop squinting. If this room was meant to disorient him and keep him on edge, whoever held him here was wildly successful. A part of his mind he refused to listen to whispered, was it Lucas?

Moments later he was startled by the appearance of a young woman in the room, she came from...he had no idea where she came from. He missed how she entered the room. She sat next to him and he blinked. A moment ago he sat on the only chair, the next moment she was sitting on the only other chair in the room.

He looked at her, raised an eyebrow but she gave no response.

"Well. If you can make a chair appear out of thin air, I'm sure you can dial down that light a few notches. And I'd be extremely grateful for a cup of coffee." He smiled. If he was going insane, he might as well amuse himself. He fought to maintain a look of mild interest as the light became the strength of ordinary sunlight--a cup of coffee steamed in his hand. He felt proud that he hadn't spilled it. Prouder still that he hadn't jumped up and screamed like a girl. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she responded.

"Oh, you can speak," he said and took a sip of coffee. and make a decent cup of coffee as well.

"Thank you," she said again. "Alexander. Do you plan to kill yourself another time? I'm curious."

Lex nearly dropped the coffee. Damn it. Was this hell? Or...heaven? He shook his head. Had to be hell. He doubted he had options.

The woman laughed. "No, no, this is not a place. It's..." she waved her hand vaguely. "It's within."

"My mind? Is this a dream?" he asked, and drank the coffee, feeling it's heat spread out through his body, the wonderful scent fill his nose, cinnamon and sugar and cream on his tongue. "I don't dream details," he said. "I don't taste or smell in my dreams, so what is this?"

"Excellent. You do not experience panic; you do not waste time disbelieving your senses. How is it that someone as resilient as you would seek to end their life?"

He gaped at t he woman, put the cup down--it disappeared. "I...did Clark bring me here? Where is he?"

"Yes, he did and he is..." She hesitated before smiling and continuing "--working." and Lex laughed.

"I see. Is he going to come back?"

"Oh yes."

"Does he still...hate me?"

Her calm demeanor cracked a bit at that. "Kal-El isn't completely certain what he wants. He doesn't want to hate you but he feels he should."

"Kal-El? Clark... Superman." He laughed sourly. "How the fuck does he keep track of them all?"

"Sometimes, not very well," she responded, serious and calm.

Oh. "Oh. Well, I won't do that again. not unsuccessfully.

Lara smiled but said nothing.

Lex watched her; she was beautiful, dark hair, full lips, green eyes... "Who are you?" he whispered.

"A friend. It's time to wake up now, Alexander." ///

He started to nod, and then he was freezing, shivering, he could hear his teeth chattering, but his hands were strangely warm, and shaking. He opened his eyes and found himself staring up into green eyes, Clark was speaking his name and nudging at his hands, his eyebrows drawn together in concern--or annoyance, it was hard to tell. "Are you awake?"

Lex looked at Clark, looked at him hard. His eyes roamed over the man Clark had become, without the ugly glasses, the horrible suits, even in the ridiculous uniform he looked more like the Clark he'd known as a boy. He opened his mouth and Clark froze.

"Clark--" his throat felt rough and dry, his voice was a harsh whisper.

"Yes..."

"Get the fuck off of me."

"--are you nuts? I saved your life, and that's all you have to say?" Clark looked completely shocked, not mad, just...stunned.

"I didn't ask you to!" Lex snapped, and twisted the blanket he found folded around his hips up over his chest. He felt his hands trembling, he felt weak and sick and scared and empty. He pulled the swiftly tattering shreds of his dignity around him and did his best to sound angry. "You're the one who butt in, I didn't call you."

Clark looked at him incredulously "You ungrateful bastard--I find you drowning in a tub in Siegfried and Roy's bathroom, and you know what-- the least you could say is thank you, I mean this is the second time I saved your miserable life!"

"Third," Lex muttered and closed his eyes. He was so damn tired. He wished sincerely that Clark would shut the fuck up and get out so he could sleep.

"Oh!" Clark's anger seemed to drain away. "Oh. Right." And driven by the change in Clark's tone, Lex opened his eyes reluctantly, he could almost see the memories playing out on Clark's face, see the moment at which all their lives changed...and the pain on Clark's face cut him as deeply as it cut Clark. It didn't matter any more. Clark looked down at him and his eyes were cold and hard, and Lex twisted his lips to keep them from quivering. He was too fucking old to cry and it didn't matter anyway.

Lex's eyes were wide open now, looking up at him, and his face was twisted in a grimace that he couldn't interpret, pain or disgust? Clark knew his face was an open book, he knew he probably looked needy and desperate and he...closed his eyes. Lex hated him, he knew that and he was trying to be okay with it, but he had to ask. He just had to know, whether it broke him the rest of the way or not.

"Lex...did you never want me? Did...Lucas? Because I don't understand any of it. Why did you two do that to me? Was it funny?" And tears filled his eyes--this was not in any way how he'd pictured this conversation taking place. In his mind it had always been a lot more testosterone driven and he'd always come off a lot better. Much less weepy. Lex was really looking disgusted now, and the tears spilled over-- Fuck. He jammed the heels of his hands into his eyes, twisting hard. "You fucked my life up for years--was it just a joke between you two?" He laughed shakily, on edge of hysteria and hating how he sounded. "Did Lucas win--or did he lose?" And now I sound like a woman wronged. Jesus. He stopped and swallowed hard, and noticed that Lex was barely breathing. "What?"

"It was never ever like that--not for me. Ever. But what else do I have? Who else can I turn to?"

"Your brother? That's sick." Clark cursed inside--that's not exactly what he meant. It was but... "I mean..."

Lex turned pale as a ghost and his head dropped back against the table. "I know. I know what you mean."

Lara's voice broke in. "Alexander, Kal-El will show you to your room now."

Lex started. "That voice--That's the woman, the one in my...vision. She tried to tell me something about you, about me, I think. She's real?"

Clark glared at the floor. "That's because she's a busy body. And a know it all. And yes, she's real and she's worried about me."

Lex gestured around. "Where is she? Is she watching us?"

Clark sighed and looked about the huge vaulted chamber. "This," he spread his arms wide, "is her. She's...she's an artificial intelligence. She's more than that though, she has the personality imprint of...my mother."

"Martha?" Lex asked confused and edging on to alarmed. "How is that possible?"

.Clark shook his head. "My birth mother. The artificial intelligence is split, in a way. There's the AI, the computer that runs this place, and hosts the personality of my mother..." Clark shook his head, "It's all very schizophrenic." He stopped and noticed Lex staring at him, mouth open. Crap. Now he had even more explaining to do. "Lex, I didn't build this place. The AI sort of...grew it for me. I'm not a mutant--not," he mumbled, " actually human at all."

Lex paled so suddenly that the circles under his eyes looked purple, his lips were blue and Clark yelled for Lara.

"He will be fine Kal-El. Please take him to his room. Let him rest and try to assimilate this information. He is perfectly capable of doing so." She sounded, Clark thought...proud. What was it with Lex and his mothers? He snapped his head back and forth to clear his brain. "Come on."

"I'm not staying. I'm fine now, she said I am-- so take me home," he said to Clark.

"To Lucas," Clark growled. "Fine. Get him some clothes," he snapped.

The silence was deafening and Clark wondered to himself how a self-described construct could be so passive-aggressive.

"AI, get him some clothes. Now! Don't make me ask again!" Clark threw his hands up. "How is it that I can't control my temper around you two?"

"Alexander is not traveling now. You will step aside and allow him to be transported to his room." The voice was devoid of any emotion or inflection. Lara had turned her back on him. A whirring noise pulled his attention to what looked like a collision between a wheelchair and a lobster moving towards the table.

"I see she bows to your every whim," Lex murmured.

Clark looked annoyed. "Don't you know, everyone does," he groused.

Two large telescoping arms rose from the machine, looking rather like metal lobster claws and reached for Lex. Clark got between Lex and the arms. "Okay, okay, I'll take him," and he lifted Lex from the table, ignoring his protests, and walked through a series of empty spaces until he came to an alcove. He stepped through it into what looked like a small apartment. Clark laid him gently on the bed there--Lex looked surprised, likely he'd expected to be dropped. Clark was reluctant to take his hands away; Lex had fit so perfectly in his arms. Warmth lingered on his palms. He tried not to look at Lex where the blanket had pulled back to expose cream colored skin that he knew would be just as smooth and velvety as his cheek had been because it was Lex--"Should I let you get dressed? I'll just leave."

Lex shook his head. "No! Don't go--can you show me where the clothes are?"

Clark looked around the space, and walked to a wall that slid back to reveal clothing. Racks and racks of clothing, drawers filled with folded items and shoes--

"Wow--that's a lot..."

Clark nodded, speechless. It was a replica of Lex's closet at his apartment, and felt a tiny prick of conscious that he knew what Lex's closet looked like.

What did Lara have planned?

Lex got up and let the blanket slide off and walked to the closet.

Fuck. Clark stared. Lex seemed not to notice, just went through the garments and spoke to Clark as if...as if they were taking a walk in the park--instead of Lex standing in front of him. Naked. And standing...God. It took him a moment to realize that Lex was speaking to him.

"So, why am I not freezing? Is this all ice or does it only appear to be ice? My feet are cold--ah! Socks!--but nothing else is--well, shit. These shirts are Charvet...how did it know my shirts? Amazing. Clark, all of this is amazing. So, it seems you aren't a mutant after all. Not like me and--you're really not human, and all this--" he stroked the wall of the closet, watching his reflection waver as he moved. "This is alien technology. Alien." He turned to Clark, his face lit by wonder. "Clark--I've always known you were incredible but this. God, this--makes me unbelievably happy. We're not out here all alone on our spinning ball of dirt." He took a step towards Clark and rested his fingertips lightly on his arm. "We have neighbors," he laughed.

Clark felt sadness, and he found that he was horribly reluctant to ruin Lex's open joy, his thrill. "I'm so sorry Lex--my people are all long dead, destroyed in a catastrophe that reduced the entire planet to, well, to those meteorites that wreaked havoc on Smallville the day I arrived here."

Lex `s hand went up in an involuntary motion and almost but not quite touched his bare scalp. His hand went down and he turned back to the closet, selecting clothing as if it were the most absorbing thing to do ever. "You." He nodded. "Of course. I remember that day...There was a man in the sky talking to me, and then--fire and smoke and pain. And a little boy who smiled at me and made me go to sleep. You."

Clark shrugged. "I don't remember that too well. Just light, and then Mom and Dad. That's about it. I never really asked them exactly what happened and I guess they just told me enough to explain certain...things. I'm...I'm sorry."

"God, you didn't do this Clark. What happened in Smallville wasn't your fault. In fact, if you hadn't survived, who would have saved Smallville? Everyday you help to keep the world safe. You have nothing to apologize to me for." Lex walked to the bed, mercifully dressed by then, soft gray sweats and thick wool socks and it made Clark want to hug those wool covered feet to his chest. He found himself following Lex back to the bedside and Lex just looked over his shoulder and smiled a small half smile, but nice, it was a nice one.

Clark was kneeling at the side of the bed and Lex was sliding under the thick comforter, his face was inches from Lex and he felt the soft movement of his breath against his skin, and shivered when Lex yawned and gusted warm air harder against his skin.

"Clark, I want to talk to you but I'm so tired. I have to sleep." He turned away from Clark and burrowed under the covers.

"Oh sure, sorry." Clark stood, folded his hands together and he started to back out of the room when Lex asked, "Could you stay? Just until I fall asleep?'

Clark nodded and the tight spot in his chest relaxed. "I'll stay until you fall sleep," he said. There was just enough room for him to sit on the edge of the bed, and Lex didn't move to give him more room. His back was to Clark; he was cocooned in the thick comforter, insulated against the world.

Clark listened to him for a while, listened to his lungs work, his heart beat, for a second or two listened to the faint woosh of blood through Lex's veins. Clark listened to him breathe slower, deeper and he knew when Lex eased over into sleep. Then he touched him, carefully and gently and so lightly that Lex wouldn't have felt it if he were wide-awake, but to Clark it was as if his fingertips had been numb, but now were finally alive.

Lucas called the castle. And called the castle and called the castle. He called the staff, demanding to know where Lex was. No one knew.

He called the Kents. They had no idea. They repeated it at various times throughout the day, until Jonathan offered to have him arrested for harassing them. Lucas called every number he thought might be relevant. He called their friends, he called his friends.

He called bars, stores; he packed and called his pilot.

He was going to Smallville and find the fucker himself.

Lucas landed in Smallville like a tornado. He roared through the place when he arrived, gathered the terrorized staff in the living room and began flaying them alive verbally. Where was Lex, how could he leave with no notice--what the fuck was he paying them for if they couldn't keep track of one man. One single fucking man, with nowhere to go but that fucking farm and that stupid caf. He exploded all over the hapless crew of people but as one they insisted over and over they. Had. No. Idea.

Lex was just...missing.

Lucas ran up the stairs to their room, all of Lex's clothes toiletries, books--everything was there. He ran into the room he'd made for Lex and there again, everything was in place, nothing out of the ordinary... except for the bathroom. On a shelf above the fireplace, candles were shoved tightly and haphazardly together, their wicks black and still smelling of having been burned, and the sight of so many crammed carelessly on the shelf was so odd it set off mental alarms.

He rang for the housekeeper, and grilled her. How had she found the room after the weekend? Where were the candles? She described the original state of the room, the tub filled with pinkish water, candles on every surface...the empty wine bottle and the smashed glass and water everywhere.

He could feel the blood pounding against his skull as he asked her over and over what happened---what did the room look like when she came in, why didn't she call him immediately on finding bloody water in the tub and water all over the floor and empty bottles, why did she clean it instead of calling him and where the fuck was Lex--a black curtain rolled away in his head and he saw the woman crouched against the floor, her arms lifted over her head, and Lucas backed away.

She sobbed that he hadn't been there and his friend called to say he was fine and would be home in a few days...she tried to scuttle past Lucas but he trapped her against the doorway.

Lucas forgot himself again and gripped her arms, yanked her to her feet "--what fucking friend, you cow? What friend?"

"I don't know his name; he said you'd know who it was!"

He dropped the crying woman and ordered her out of the room. Kent?*

Clark? Fucking Clark? Lucas felt a pain shoot across his chest and lodge under his jaw. Not Kent, not him. He was a pain in the ass but he'd never go that far in striking back at him. Kent was a pussy at heart. He saw it every time he looked at him with those fucking kicked puppy eyes. "Fuck--It's been six fucking years--get over it!" he yelled aloud and threw something that broke with a satisfying smash against the far wall. No, he knew who it was, who it had to be--that freak. That flying freak in the clown costume stole his Lex. He picked up a vase that he'd bought for Lex on one of his business trips--Lex had actually liked it. It exploded over the portrait he'd had done of the two of them. He stared at it. He knew Lex had probably laughed at it...he was willing to bet--a crystal decanter ripped into the canvas, tearing gashes in it and raining scotch and broken shards over it. Lucas nodded his head. Satisfying. He leaned against the carved bedpost of the fucking ugly bed he'd bought because once Lex said h liked it. A red wall of rage swept over him and he reached down and grabbed the cover on the bed and ripped it through, he yanked it off the bed and tore the sheets off, ripped long shreds through them and spilled the goose down guts of a pillow across the shredded sheets...in the distance he heard someone screaming and screaming...

He was sitting on the floor panting hoarsely, sweat matted his hair and soaked his shirt, it clung to him, clammy and wet and tears of frustration ran down his face. He batted at floating feathers and laughed, so hard it bent his head to the floor and gusts of breath sent up puffs of down and made him laugh again.

He knew it--ever since that night he turned up on the balcony he knew Superman would try to take Lex from him. Because he wanted to hurt him and because everyone wanted Lex--he could tell, everywhere he went, someone tried to take Lex from him. He'd had to stop a lot of people from trying to take Lex from him. He shook his head sadly. Lex was responsible for so much death. "See how much I love you, how I protect you from that." Lex would never know. He was too weak to know. That was okay, that was why he loved him. He needed his little brother to keep him safe.

He stood, stepping around broken glass and little puddles of alcohol. So, Superman made his move, he attacked where he thought Lucas was the weakest.

He wanted war? Fine, he'd bring him war.

He called the Kents again. "Tell Clark to let his costumed fuck buddy know that I know he has Lex--tell him I'm coming after him." He slammed the phone down and leaned against the mesh back of the desk chair in the entertainment room. He put his feet up on the cherry wood desk and said, "Right, how do I get that bastard to give up Lex, and how can I do it with the most pain..."

Son Son, you can't win against Superman and Lex would never have left unless he wanted to.*

"Shut the fuck up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

Lucas slammed his feet to the floor and shoved the chair back. He paced around the area, growling in anger. Lex. Lex wouldn't leave him. He promised him and he wouldn't leave. The voice in his head told him Twice...he tried to leave you twice. And now he's with Superman.* Maybe he wants to be there. He shook his head hard. No. He didn't. He loved him and he wanted to be with him.

"Clark, Lucas called again and son, you're going to have to be very careful with him. I think this incident might have pushed him over the edge." His dad's voice was worried, filled with concern for him. "Maybe you should let Lex go. I hate to even suggest it, but Lex is dangerous to you now."

Clark bristled, angry enough that the phone creaked in his hand. He loosened his grip and spoke again when he'd calmed a bit. "Dad, I know you're worried about me right now, but I'm more worried about Lex and you guys--I'm going to have to deal with Lucas sooner than I wanted to, I guess."

"He was looking for Superman this time. He said he knew that Superman had Lex and he wanted him back. Clark--Lucas has proven how dangerous he can be and he's working on weapons he can use against you. This just gives him more incentive...."

Clark shook his head -said no aloud. "It doesn't matter Dad, Lex needs my help."

There was a crackling noise on the line and brief murmuring in the background. great, they're double-teaming me*,* he thought. He waited until..."Sweetie..." yep; Mom's going to work on me now*.*

"You know how I feel about Lex, and our goals are the same for him--" He could tell by his mom's carefully chosen words Dad was still in the room with her. "--but I have to tell the truth, if it comes down to choosing between you and...anything, I choose you every time.

Clark laughed quietly. "I know Mom, I know. But...I choose Lex."

Lex sat at a small table in the apartment, drinking coffee and looking over a book he'd found in the small bookcase next to the doorway. He was having a pleasant conversation with Lara about the author when Clark strode into the room and without greeting Lex asked, "How badly can your brother hurt me?"

Lex didn't waste time tweaking Clark for being rude, answered immediately, "It's possible that he can be deadly to you. I don't have details but I do know that he's working on a dozen different counter measures against you." He bit his thumb and stared back at Clark. "He's almost as obsessed with you as he is with me. He sees you as a rival."

Clark puffed out his chest. "Yeah? Good."

Lex stopped tearing at his thumb and looked at Clark. "Good?"

"Yes, damn it. Good. I'm going to save you from him. I'm going to make it so you never have to worry about him again."

"Oh thanks Clark. I'm so glad I'm your home grown charity case!" Lex threw the book on the table and walked out of his apartment.

Lara brightened the lights in the corridors that led the way to the library, subtly guiding Lex there. Lex had no idea that a week before it had been much less a library and more of an example of the kind of obsession Lucas would have admired. He leaned against a bookshelf, his fingers splayed against the spines of the books there, his head leaning against the cool leather. He had no idea why Clark's words made him so angry. He wished that he could understand the web of emotions that tangled all three of them up in his mind.

Clark appeared at the threshold of the room, hesitated. Casting a quick glance around before recovering, he stormed into the room, shouting furiously. "You get angry at me all the time--I never saw you yelling at Lucas and fighting with him all the time--why do you fight with me?" He took a deep breath and continued," I'm forgiving you, god damn it."

Lex whirled around and glared at Clark. "You're forgiving me? Fuck you! I don't need you to forgive me--you fucking left me! You abandoned me!"

"I didn't leave you, you didn't want me." He came closer to Lex. "I'd see you smiling at him, with him, ...how do you think that made me feel, hands all over each other like no one else existed and looking beautiful together," Clark choked and went on, "and he kept doing horrible things, horrible things, but you never left him."

"I've been trying to!" He laughed wildly, turned his face upwards to avoid the look of dismay on Clark's face. Clark grabbed him and Lex froze. "I know, please, don't, please don't do that again."

Lex tried to pull away from Clark. "You really don't have the right to ask me anything."

"When I saw you that day, in the hospital, you and ...him, it felt like all the lies Lucas gave me seemed like they were lies you shared to hurt me." Clark was trembling as he spoke, his eyes and face red.

Lex's eyes glazed over. The pain was fresh as if it'd happened yesterday. "I was so drugged out that day, but I still remember your face. I couldn't move. He took advantage of me. And you cursed me and left and I decided I was lost forever."

"I hurt myself more than you ever hurt me. I know now. I understand...better." Clark leaned his head on Lex's shoulder and Lex awkwardly pet his hair and tried to control his reaction. It was the first time Clark had touched him because he wanted to in years. It overwhelmed him, Clark leaning on him. It frightened him.

"You don't have to go back to him. Please stay with me. Please."

"I want to, okay? I really want to." Words weren't enough to convey how he felt at this moment--there was no way to let Clark know how much he wanted to stay. If only he could. And he couldn't explain it to Clark. Never.

"Okay," Clark wiped his face with one hand and fished about in his pocket with the other, and handed Lex his cell phone. "The first thing you have to do is tell him, and we can work from there."

Lex graced Clark with a startled burst of laughter, quick but genuine. "What, no alien technology? We're in a palace made of ice and I get a cell phone?"

Clark blushed slightly and grinned, thrilled that Lex was teasing him. He shrugged. "We get incredible reception." Lex nodded, trying to smile still but his heart was a block of ice in his chest. He stared at the little silver bar on Clark's palm. Clark was so certain; seemed so positive that he could do it that he took the offered phone. His hand shook so much Clark grabbed the phone from him and entered the number as he spoke it. His heart beat harder as he took the phone back and waited.

Lucas answered immediately. "Where the fuck have you been--what's wrong?"

Lex opened his mouth to explain what happened and "I'm leaving," tumbled out instead. He looked shocked, eyes wide and blinking.

There was silence on the line and then Lucas chuckled. "No, you're not."

"I'm not coming back home Lucas. I can't do this anymore, not one more minute."

"No, Lex. Where are you, I'll come and get you."

"I don't know." Lex looked at Clark, who said nothing, just stood quietly, hands flexing by his side and watching Lex expressionlessly.

"Fuck that," Lucas snarled at him, his voice raising. "Where the hell are you, damn it."

"I really have no idea where I am," Lex laughed, "I'm not in Smallville..."

Lucas screamed and Clark jerked, and stared at the phone pressed against Lex's cheek, his eyes burning. "Tell me--tell me god damn it--" and stopped. "Okay, he's got you, it's all right. I know he's got you. Don't worry, I'll find him. I can make his friends want to tell me, don't worry."

"Don't! Don't do anything stupid, Lucas."

Lucas went on, his voice calmer, stronger. "Just tell me baby, I'm not afraid of him and you don't have to be either. I'll save you. Just tell me where you are."

"No...I can't. I really can't--"

Lucas lost control. He cursed Lex; screamed at him, screamed so loudly that Clark couldn't help taking a step forward--Lex waved him violently away.

Clark watched Lex and wondered what to do...what Lex was going to do. He looked crushed under pressure, so stressed-- His blood pressure rose, his heart beat quickened, and each word Lucas spit at him sent it jittering faster and faster. ... `Should I stop this?'

The screaming on the other end cut off sharply. The quiet was almost shocking after Lucas' tirade. Lex dropped his head and Clark waited for him to relax, instead his heart raced and stress signs increased. The silence stretched on, Lex's heart thundered in the quiet until Clark felt like he wanted to scream and then an almost child-like voice asked, "you love me, don't you?" and Clark had a moment of confusion before he recognized it as Lucas.

Lex folded in on himself a little more, his head bent in to his chest, his hands rose over his head but he snapped "No!"

Clark listened, frozen in place, to the sound of Lucas wailing over the line. It made the hair on the back of his neck raise and his own heartbeat quickened.

"You're lying! You do love me!"

"No, no I don't." Lex's shoulders bent forward and he curled over, an arm pressed hard against his belly and coiled like a spring around the phone. It was obvious Lucas was in tears even as he screamed, "Tell me the truth!"

Lex seemed to dissolve, and he croaked, "Yes." his legs collapsed and he crashed to the floor like a broken doll.

Clark gasped, "Lex, no!" and Lucas heard his voice.

"Is that him? I'll kill him; I'll kill everyone he knows unless he gives you back--tell him! I'll kill Kent-- his family, his friends--I'll kill his fucking mailman, you hear me?"

"Lex, hang up," Clark whispered. "Hang up Lex," and tried to gently take the phone from his hand, but Lex punched him, kept punching him-- his knuckles split and bled and he kept the phone clasped to his cheek with his other hand.

"Come on Lex, give me the phone please..."

Lex shook his head no, and tried to pull away from Clark's gentle hand on his.

Lucas shouted through the line, "I'm going to get him back--Lex, I'm going to get you. Don't be afraid, I'm going to get you." He disconnected and Lex dropped the phone. The click of the metal hitting the glass like floor was shattering.

Lex was still bent stiffly in half. Clark touched his back; the muscle was like stone under his hand--hard, cold...still as death. His hands hovered over Lex, flicking back and forth. He didn't know what to do. Lex just told Lucas he loved him...he said out loud what Clark was afraid to know. And now, he was what--ashamed, embarrassed...lovesick? Clark felt a heavy weight settle in his chest.

He sighed and settled back on his heels... was startled to realize Lex was the source of a bizarre sound he's just become aware of, a weird low howl. As he listened, the noise got louder, higher and was interrupted every so often by a barking cough and Clark thought, `fuck he's crying,'...he was moving now, rocking back and forth, and Clark sat behind him with his hands out. Lex was still curled, and his head pressed hard against the floor now, muffling slightly the horrible, horrible noise he was making. The noise was digging into Clark's brain and twisting his gut, he shivered and watched Lex fall apart....

A small soft voice spoke his name and it quivered in the air, sent an electric shock through him, he jumped and grabbed Lex and yanked him hard against his chest. He had to hold Lex tight to keep him against him, he was unyielding and stiff and shuddering from the force of his howls. Clark pulled his face against his, expecting tears, but his eyes were dry, and his expression was kind of...calm.

Clark tried to quiet him, and tears began rolling down his own cheeks, they poured down his face, so hot he thought they should be scalding him. Lex's voice broke, and the noise he made sounded almost normal but his eyes remained dry and fixed upward, unseeing, somewhere far away...Clark cried, and held him, until slowly he unbent. Clark tried to cover every part of Lex and let his heat soak into him, and now he was shivering, a change over the long deep shudders of a few minutes ago. His teeth chattered and he moaned quietly to himself, Clark finally managed to stop his tears and he rested his cheek against Lex's icy head. "You're cold, can I warm you up?"

Lex nodded and shook, he tried to stand but Clark picked him up and carried him back to his room.

He laid Lex on the bed, and asked for more blankets and there were blankets on the foot of the bed. He asked for more heat as he slipped Lex's shoes off and rolled him to one side of the bed, piled on blanket after blanket and slid under with him. He pulled him against his body again.

Lex tried to move out of his hold but Clark shushed him. "Just lay still, don't think about who it is. Just relax, you're safe, you're home, it's warm now, quiet, it's time to sleep, good dreams..." his voice droned on and on repeating the few sentences until they became a mantra, chanting slowly and deeply, letting Lex lean against him and his heat and the rumble of his voice in his chest soothed him into a heavy sleep. Clark lay there in the dark, seeing everything over and over against his eyelids like his own private horror movie... he had no idea how he was ever going to rest and then Lex shifted against him and made a tiny sound, a not unhappy sound. Clark relaxed and let his body feel Lex--he fit so perfectly against him. As if every part of his body had been formed with Lex in mind. Everyplace he touched was a new spot that was perfect and made for him.

He drifted off thinking that he didn't give a shit what happened yesterday; they both deserved a new morning. They were way overdue their new day.

"Lara, I can't wake Lex up. I'm worried..."

"Lex will sleep until I wake him. He needs the time to recover. You have duties to attend to. I will attend to Lex.

Clark rolled to his back and stared up into the silvery light stretching far above him. "Lara, can you...help him with his...memories?"

"In what way Kal-el?"

"Can you...is it possible to alter his memories? Is it possible to remove the memories that make his life so unhappy?" There was a hesitation before Lara spoke, a sure sign that she was reluctant to answer but Clark pressed on. "Is there a way?"

"It is possible."

"Than I want you to remove everything that hurts him--can you make happy memories?" Memories of what should have been?

"Kal-el. Think about what you are asking, and think about whom you wish to alter."

"But his life has been horrible--remember how he cried. That wasn't the reaction of a person who has any joy of life. He's miserable, he's...he's suffered enough. I don't want him to suffer anymore."

"Kal-el. I must momentarily devote my attention elsewhere. There is a problem."

How did she make silence so damn loud? Clark cursed. He could order the AI to do what he wanted, but without Lara's...humanity...he doubted the results would be what he desired. He needed to talk to some one else about this. Some one wiser than he was.

"Bruce." Clark walked through his apartment, checking his mail, emptying the fridge. He'd let a lot of things go on his impromptu vacation. He leaned against the frame of the large window in his living room, watched neighborhood kids playing on the sidewalk. The rhythmic strike of their jump ropes against the concrete was oddly soothing.

"Clark. How is your vacation going? I see that you've had to break it a time or two. Good work by the way. There was minimal damage in the train incident."

A chill clawed up his spine, Clark felt the press of the headpiece against his throat when he swallowed. Minimal damage? Twelve people died before he was able to pull the railroad cars out of the water, families...children....

The sound of the kids outside, their shrieks of laughter twisted inside him, closed his throat. When had Bruce started sounding like the AI? Clark realized that he'd been ignoring changes in Bruce, the way the sparkle in his eyes had turned to ice, the way that quirky smile had slowly become a tight line... "I need to talk to you."

"Clark...is it important? I'll make time for you of course, whatever you need, you know that, however...." "It's not really important," Clark lied. "I'll get in touch with you later. I'm heading back to Smallville. I might need to heighten surveillance over my folks."

"Really?" Bruce asked, his voice more animated than it had been. "Interesting. Beyond the normal reason?"

"No, no, still the same reason. Just--it might escalate. I'll explain when I see you, okay?"

There was silence on the line, and Bruce spoke. "I'll meet with you tomorrow night. Will that do?"

"Yes--that's fine. Good. I'll see you tomorrow, then." The sound of the jump ropes slowed and quickened, slowed and quickened...

"Don't wear the costume," Bruce said and disconnected.

Clark felt a quick electric flash run through him, and turned away from the window. He set the handset down carefully on the nicked and scratched coffee table in front of what Lois called the ugliest couch in the world. He smiled, the smile slowly eased down into a frown. Using speed he quickly cleaned enough to make the apartment look neat but not museum like--and thought about what his options were. It had occurred to him during his brief conversation with Bruce that if he showed up with Lex on his arm, Bruce was going to go ballistic. He truly felt that Lex was...well, Bruce felt the way he had up until a few days ago. He dropped on the couch and shuddered. If he'd seen Lex, seen him grieving...no one with a heart could have seen that suffering and not been affected.

His mother was sitting on a bench near her flower garden when he arrived. He touched down lightly behind the barn and walked to where she sat. "Mom--"

"Clark!" she started and laughed. "I was just thinking about you. How's Lex?"

He grinned. "You were `thinking about me--how's Lex?' Thanks, I feel loved." He sat next to her and kissed her forehead.

She smiled and leaned back against the bench. "You know what I mean."

He settled next to her and they were quiet for a bit, only the hum of bees in the garden and birds in the distance breaking the silence, and then Clark turned towards her and said, "Mom, I have a weird question to ask. If it was possible to change some part of your life that caused you horrible pain, and suddenly you had the opportunity, would you do it?"

"That's an interesting question son. Why...oh Clark."

Clark blushed but went on. "Mom, it'll take years and years for Lex to recover enough to have a normal life. If he didn't have this on him, he could have a real life. Maybe---a life with me." Clark looked defiant and Martha knew he was halfway to making up his mind.

"Clark you know it's wrong. No matter how horrible it may seem to us, you can't make Lex choose such a drastic action--"

"I wasn't going to ask him."

"Oh my god Clark, and if you do that, what makes you different from Lucas?"

Clark jumped off the bench and stood with his back to Martha, said, "It is different! I not trying to hurt him, I want to make it better for him. I can have his memories replaced with good ones, memories of a normal life."

"Clark! Raping his mind and justifying it doesn't make you better than Lucas. Don't you think he believes Lex should be happy too? Don't you think he believes that he loves Lex as much as you do?"

"Mom! Lucas made his life a disgusting joke--and you sound like you're fine with it!"

Her face was a pale, spots of bright red on her cheeks, and she looked angrier than Clark could remember seeing her in a long time.

"Clark, don't be stupid! If I thought it was what Lex wanted, I would do my best to act like it wasn't happening and keep on going, because I want Lex in mylife. It is tearing the poor boy up inside--and still it's not your choice to make. Lex is stronger than anyone, including himself, gives him credit for. Let him rest; get over what he tried to do. He'll make his own decision now that he knows he has a choice. That's all you have to do Clark--just be there. Can you? Think about it, Clark. Can you truly be there for him, no matter how ugly, or how hard it gets?"

Clark decided to drive to Gotham, spent the time thinking about what his mother said. She made sense but he had it in his power to save Lex years and years of pain, why shouldn't Lex have what he could give him? Lucas could be a distant memory, in fact with Lex separated from him, he could put Lucas away for life, so deep that he'd have to crawl his way out from under the jail--hell, he could have Bruce drop him into Arkham and never bring him out again. It could be done, as long as he didn't have to worry about Lex....

Bruce seemed pleased to see him. He kissed him when he came in the door, a warm press of lips to his cheek. He led Clark to his study and gestured for Clark to take a seat. Clark chose a low back club chair and Bruce smiled.

He came around the back of the chair and leaned over, pressed a drink into Clark's upraised hand. "You smell good."

Clark lowered the drink to his mouth and sipped, blushing. "Um, thanks...you..."

Bruce was in front of him now. "You look tired." He smoothed the hair back from Clark's forehead. "Do you want to sleep? Do you need to be anywhere soon?"

"Well, yes..." he trailed off as Bruce's calloused fingers slid across his mouth, down his chin and across his throat. His thumb rested on the pulse point in his neck, and Clark could feel it press in a little as he swallowed. Fingers traced his collarbones and Clark gasped softly. "Bruce, I--"

Bruce pressed his thumb into the hollow of Clark's throat and he automatically slid lower in the chair, his knees opening. Bruce stood between them and bent over. He traced the top of Clark's ear with the point of his tongue until Clark squirmed and then bit down--hard enough to make Clark rise up off the chair, and now, he was breathing heavier. Bruce stepped back, and trailed fingertips along Clark's growing erection. He cupped him and Clark gasped, "Wait. I didn't come here for this."

"No?" Bruce asked, "Do you want me to stop?" and the warmth of his hand was gone.

Clark's hand shot out and captured Bruce's wrist. "No."

"Are you sure," he whispered and leaned closer, until his mouth was over Clark's. When he spoke his lips just barely stroked Clark's, sending a shiver through him.

"I'm sure...."

Clark closed his eyes as Bruce ran his hand up his inner thigh, pressed his thumb hard, as hard as he could, against a bundle of nerves there, a sensation that he'd learned for Clark was incredibly erotic ...he thrust up and pushed hard against Bruce's hand and shouted. He was completely hard, Bruce slid his zipper down, and it felt like he was unlatching it tooth by tooth, agonizingly slow, Bruce's hand freed him and his dick thumped against his belly. He was begging Bruce--

"What do you want Clark. Tell me and I'll do it."

The dim table lamp next to the chair filled the room with shadows,* on the wall two shapes twisted together,* the only sound in the darkness the creak of wood,* the rustle and slide of fabric and the helpless moans that escaped from Clark...*

Bruce's knees were cushioned in their clothing crumpled on the floor. He held Clark's sweat slicked legs apart, pushed them high over his head and drank in the sound of him flying apart. Each swipe of his tongue over that whorl of tight muscle brought a new submission from Clark, each thrust inward forced him to surrender and beg for more.

Bruce stood and watched Clark pant, sweat-- he grinned as he fisted his dick, slicking himself. "Are you ready for me?"

Clark nodded, looking almost frightened and Bruce laughed. Stepped between his legs and in one push slid home.

"God! Fuck!" Clark's head ground against the chair back, his lips pulled back from his clenched teeth and he lifted into the thrust. His legs were bent almost to his chest as Bruce rested his weight on them, his hands frantically scrabbled at the arms of the chair. "Hard! Do it hard!"

Bruce nodded, braced his feet and gave Clark what he needed, no romance, no tenderness, nothing to cloud what this was, a hard, fast, no holds barred fuck.

He watched Clark, watched his dick sway against his belly, threading precome from the swollen tip to slick flesh with each contact, he was slippery with sweat and lube, and he was beautiful, gleaming like marble in the low light....

Bruce leaned back to watch his dick disappear inside him with each push; he reached down to circle his fingers around the thinned rim of muscle clutching him, releasing him reluctantly. The slide of flesh against flesh overtook the distance he tried to keep between them, his body vibrated with the need to come---a few swift pulls of his hand over Clark's dick sent him into release with a strangled shout and the furnace that Bruce was buried in squeezed down around him, pulled him into his own release.

Coming, he felt completely alive, on fire, every part of him aware as he emptied himself into the nearly invincible, almost god-like being who was writhing and moaning and pleading with him... so much power, control given over so freely and completely, all to him-- the thought propelled him violently through his orgasm.

Clark was waiting for Bruce to come back to the study. He was still feeling warm and relaxed; he was showered and re-dressed, still a little damp. His clothes clung to wet spots on his skin here and there. Bruce walked in with a tray and pushed the door to the den shut with his foot.

"Coffee?"

Clark nodded and took a cup off the tray gratefully. "Thanks." He gulped down a few mouthfuls before dropping it back on the tray. "Bruce--I've got Lex staying with me right now."

Bruce set the tray on a table, drew a chair around to it and sat, very methodical movements, very careful. He raised an eyebrow at Clark. "Really...why?" He waited for an answer, a little smile on his lips, a look of polite interest on his face.

"Because I'm trying to make his life better. I want to help him."

Bruce leaned back in his chair and folded his hands on the table. "I see."

"You know Bruce, I came here to ask you for your help with a problem I have but--I've been thinking about something you told me a while ago, something that doesn't make sense to me now...."

"Go ahead," Bruce said.

"Lex didn't send that tape to you."

Bruce didn't waste time acting as if he had no idea what Clark was talking about. "He did, he sent the tape and a note--"

"Stop it. You know it wasn't Lex."

"Well, it could have been Lucas but it didn't matter, it was plain that Lex wasn't protesting..."

Clark interrupted. "You knew it was Lucas all along. I think you lied to me. I know you didn't do it to hurt me, it was just some twisted way you had of protecting me. Like the way you comfort me," he snarled.

Bruce cut in "--you know Lex is an active participant. You can see in his face when they're fucking, he loves it!" Clark was silent and Bruce misinterpreted his silence, asked, "It's true, isn't it?"

"I never watched--you watched them?"

"Oh come on, don't tell me you never looked--" Bruce coughed out a strained chuckle. "No. Of course not. You never did, did you? You always turned away, I'll bet--anything but that."

"But you did! And when you thought I might not hate him so much anymore you created a reason why I should. You lied to me!"

"Lex is going to drown and pull you under with him. Without him you're more focused, a better weapon. With him, there are too many issues muddying the water. Your energies would be divided."

"So you protected me from him, in order to create a better weapon...Bruce--there's not much difference between what you tried to do and what Lucas did." Clark suddenly went quiet and when he didn't speak, Bruce continued.

"You're wrong. I helped you, I trained you, worked with you, I did everything I promised your parents I would do, and I didn't do anything you didn't want. Ever."

"It might be true, Bruce. But I didn't know what to ask for until you showed me what it was."

"Can we let this go? We need to work together. I'm sorry--what I did was out of line perhaps, probably stupid--but you can trust me. I promise. I won't shade the truth with you again."

"Bruce, the cities need us. The world needs us." Clark dragged his hands through his hair and sighed. "And I do trust you--for the job I trust you completely I trust you with my life--no one else has that from me. But you and I? On a personal level? I`ll have to think about that."

Clark replayed the scene again and again as he drove back towards Smallville. He was angry. He was angry enough to scream but he was already fighting to put it behind him. He'd had enough of living a life ruled by anger. The calm Superman affected was hard won and cultivated--Clark had a temper, one that he kept a very tight leash on. He could feel it slipping, just like it'd slipped that night in Metropolis, when he'd first donned the costume and taken his first flight around the city--his city.

He hadn't felt shame then, he felt deep shame now. He remembered the look of hope on Lex's face, and how quickly it became a resigned kind of sorrow...he had his fill of hatred and grudges and he had no interest in carrying that on with Bruce. Just at this moment, he needed distance from him.

He left the car parked in the barn, and flew back to the Artic....

Lex wasn't in bed when Clark returned to the fortress; he was in the library, sitting at a table, and writing something on a pile of notes in front of him. He looked up and smiled when Clark came in.

"Hey, you're back. Good. I've been trying to remember everything Lucas said about the projects he was working on for the military. Have you or Batman looked into it yet?"

"Yes and no--we haven't gone into the factory yet, but Bruce is keeping track of the materials arriving there, some of them are coming from Wayne Industries...

He trailed off and stared at Lex until Lex asked, "What's wrong?"

"Bruce has a tape of you and Lucas, together... did you send it?"

"Tape? Of Lucas...God, I'd never do that. Is that what he told you--why would he tell you something like that? I never sent Bruce a tape--when he refused my calls and wouldn't see me, I dropped it. It hurt me a lot, I won't lie. Bruce was always special to me." He stopped and looked into Clark's face. "I know he knew what was happening, but I kind of thought if anyone understood it would be Bruce. No. It wasn't me and Bruce should have known immediately that it was Lucas. Trying to separate me from anyone who might influence me." Clark nodded. "Yeah. Well, Bruce has...changed some in the last six years."

Lex looked at him and said, "You've been with Bruce haven't you? As lovers, or..."

Clark laughed. "Or, I suppose. Less than lovers, more than friends? I don't know how to put it. Bruce makes things easier. He knows what to do for me."

Lex cocked his head and looked Clark over. "Does he?" he drew the words out slowly, looked at Clark with knowledge in his eyes that made Clark blush and look away. "Well, that doesn't sound like the Bruce I knew. I guess he has changed an awful lot in six years." He looked thoughtful as his eyes searched Clark. "You were with him tonight, weren't you?"

Clark started to apologize and Lex held his hand up." No, I understand. There's no reason why you shouldn't have been. These last few days have been stressful, you needed comfort. I know all about that. I'm glad you have someone who can give it to you." He smiled. "Someone who `knows what to do for you'."

"I work with Bruce, we're great partners together, but I want you to know from now on that's all it is. Just work." He headed off Lex's protest, "No, I just don't think I need what Bruce did for me anymore. I have something better in my life now. At least, I hope that I will. You know that's what this is all about." He blushed and Lex smiled.

"I love that you never lost that ability to blush. When you do you look just like..."

Clark smiled, and the smile was entirely grown up and wise. "Like that kid, hunh? Maybe you make him come alive, I hope he can do the same for you."

Lex sat back and pushed the pile of papers into a neat pile and handed them to Clark. "I hope so. I really do."

Amanda Smith unlocked the door to the Smallville Book Nook, hung her jacket on a hook next to the door inside. She ran a hand through her graying brown hair, and twisted it into a knot. She had a shipment that needed to be unpacked, she had an hour before the kid came in to sweep the floors and do some dusting, she could have him help unpack the books....

She set the coffee maker on, put out a few oversized chocolate chip cookies wrapped in plastic on an antique platter next to the cash register. She'd have to get in touch with Martha--see if she could get some brownie bars for the next order.

She sipped at her coffee and set the packing slip from the opened box of books aside, watched the sun begin to send weak rays of light through the front window. The lace curtains threw their pattern on the floor. She liked being in the store early in the morning. There was a real sense of peace here. She loved being here. The phone she carried with her everywhere vibrated against her hip, she had the phone out and open and waiting for a voice before the action fully registered.

"I'm going to Metropolis, square away some business. I'll be back on Friday."

"That's fine. I look forward to seeing you when you return."

"All right then. Excellent job last month. It was well worth the bonus."

"Thank you."

She disconnected and slipped the phone back in her pocket. Picked up her coffee and waited.

Lucas closed his eyes and leaned against the wood wall of the elevator and let his bodyguard's voice play background music to his boredom. He kicked idly at the bag next to his foot and sighed. Cleaning up loose ends, finishing open business and making sure his people were up on the specifics of the current deals and ready to carry on in his absence had him up day and night. It was Friday evening, and he was supposed to have been back in Smallville by the afternoon...it was already five hours past noontime. He wasn't sure when he last actually slept. Thank god for Toby and his better living through chemicals philosophy. He felt like shit but at least he was awake, he didn't care that he was half dead....

"Mr. Luthor, did you hear me?"

He cracked an eyelid and thought about firing him--looked at his mouth and changed his mind again. "Shut up, Harris."

"Sir...Mr. Luthor, you've gone to Smallville twice this month. I'd feel better if you had full time protection. People watch you, you know."

Lucas shivered. He did know. People watched all the time; he didn't need James Bond here to tell him that. "I have adequate protection in Smallville whenever I want it. Don't worry, I'll be fine--you're not in danger of losing your job."

Harris' cheeks flamed and he said quietly but forcefully, "I'm not worried about losing my job."

Lucas looked at his watch, muttered, "Yeah, you care about me." He flipped open his phone and checked messages quickly and ignored the deep brown eyes on him. He had nice eyes, so dark...liked the way he looked so surprised when he came...

The bump under his feet told him they were in the garage. He rubbed his face, took a deep breath and signaled for Harris to go ahead.

The bodyguard walked out first, alert to everything, almost quivering...like a greyhound, Lucas thought. He always found that super-heightened degree of awareness--hot. He smiled to himself. He really needed to stop screwing the help. It was a bad habit he'd had since his teens...

Harris looked back, "All clear Mr. Luthor."

Lucas nodded, called back to the office as he walked. "I don't need to have a car in Smallville--I'm driving myself. I won't need staff when I get there. Let them know tomorrow's fine. The plant's ready for my visit? Tomorrow. Good." He disconnected, walked past his car and driver to the Porsche in the last spot. Harris nearly sputtered, "You're changing your plans? But--what about security?"

Lucas smirked. "I'll be fine--I'm driving straight through. No stops, okay?" He threw his bags into the back of the car, stopped and looked at Harris. The man actually looked miserable that Lucas was taking what he thought of as a security risk. "Look. My mechanic's in Smallville. Any problem I have, she can fix it, all right?" Harris nodded grimly and Lucas waved him closer to the car. He grabbed him by the back of the head when he was in range, and kissed him, a tooth clashing, lip-bruising kiss, only releasing him when the man groaned. Lucas let him step back, watched him try to regain his composure. "Okay? Take care of that for me," he grinned and jerked his chin towards the cameras. "See you in a few days."

He dropped into the car, and drove off, watching Harris in the rear view mirror. He really did have to stop screwing the help...especially his security. He'd have to look into hiring a new bodyguard soon; this one was getting confused as to what bodyguard actually meant.

As he drove towards town, the sun began to set and the sky went from pink to purple, stars winked alight and he wished Lex were next to him so he could see how beautiful it looked. The clouds still visible began to run across the sky like smears of paint ...was Lex thinking of him now?

He chewed at the inside of his cheek, feelings of guilt nearly swamping him. Guilt that he'd ignored the signs that Lex was falling apart again. Guilt that he'd not realized how far it could go. And now, he was trapped somewhere with that freak, confused and lost and needing guidance, needing him, he was sure. Lex,* Lex,* no one can give you what you need except me...just like you're the only one for me.* Lucas rolled down the windows and let the wind flow through the car. He imagined he could smell Smallville in the air, a different sort of scent than Metropolis--cleaner, a little. He shivered and rolled the windows back up. An hour to go until he got there, and then, what?

When Clark explained to Lex how he wanted to help him, he went white and stared at Clark, his eyes impossibly wide. He seemed unable to speak for a moment. Clark was afraid--Lex looked like he was about to faint or...worse.

"Clark--please don't do that to me," he whispered.

"But Lex, I'm only trying to help you."

Lex's lips worked for a moment and then, he exploded, "Help! You want to rip my brain apart and call it help?"

"But--it's not going to hurt, I promise you..."

"Clark, listen to what you're saying--you want to take my life away, and give me happy shiny new memories instead? I know my life's fucked up, I know you can't stand it but this is---this is frightening what you're offering! Do you plan to do that to anyone whose life isn't what you think it should be? You scare me worse than Lucas ever has!"

"I just want you to be happy! I want you to forget the bad parts and just be happy with me!"

"How the fuck do the people around you survive?" Lex spat.

Clark sat back, horrified. "I'd never hurt any one, never."

"But you're willing to make an exception for me?" Lex laughed." Between you and my brother," he snarled, "I don't have a chance." He pushed away from the table and began pacing.

Clark jumped up, held his hands out to Lex and every step he took forward, Lex stepped back from him. "Wait, Lex, please, wait. Okay, I know it's a stupid idea, okay--"

"Stupid? It's--it's rape! I suppose I should be grateful that you waited to ask my permission--" he paled and swayed and Clark fought the urge to vomit, just watching Lex's reaction.

"No--on my mother's life, I didn't touch you. I swear to God, I didn't do a thing."

Lex stared at him, seconds that felt like years ticked by before he finally nodded and sat heavily on his chair. "Clark...how are we ever going to trust each other?"

Clark dropped to the chair opposite, keeping the table between them. "We are going to trust each other, because we want to, okay? Look, we're going to disappoint each other a lot. I've got a lot of practice in that, unfortunately, not such a good track record with relationships. But just give me a chance, and believe me when I say, I'll never hurt you." Lex looked skeptical, and Clark went on, "I'll never hurt you like that. Your mind, your feelings, they belong to you. Mom tried to make me understand but--I'm an idiot sometimes."

Lex murmured agreement, "Your mother is an exceptional woman Clark--your mom and dad both are great people. I know you only want the best. Jonathan and Martha Kent might have raised an idiot, but at least he's an idiot who lives his life trying to do the right thing."

"Wow, thanks I think," Clark smiled. "Mom and dad will be happy to know that they didn't fail completely."

Lex leaned his elbows on the table, folded his hands and looked at Clark. "What about Lucas?"

Clark groaned. "Do we have to talk about him now?"

"Clark, he's on his way to Smallville. Wherever he was, he's on his way here now, you understand? He's going to threaten your mom and dad, he's going to try to go after you, and he's definitely going after Superman." He nodded at the desk. "Those notes--they're the only thing that will keep you from being hurt by Lucas. He's been getting ready for you for a long time."

"Yeah, well, I'm ready for him. Lucas wanted this. He chose a road that put him in conflict with Superman; I can't ignore what he does. He's a bad man. The only thing I can do for him is isolate him, so he can't hurt anyone else."

Lex nodded. "He was a sweet kid. He really was. You'd never believe it, but he was. He looked up to me, he depended on me and I failed him, Dad and I both failed him."

Clark watched his hands clench, unclench, pull at each other. "You want me to hate him Clark but I can't. We're so twisted into each other, I'm not even sure if we can survive without the other anymore...I hate my life, but I can't hate him. Everything he`s done to me--the things I've done to him--it's wrong and I hate it, but I love Lucas." He looked up at Clark. "You don't want to hear that, but I do."

Clark was motionless, still watching Lex's hands. His knuckles were so white, it seemed the bone had to come through the skin any moment. "If you stay with him, Lex, it'll kill you. I don't understand anything else, but I understand that."

Clark stood and moved across the room. He kept his back to Lex and started to speak. "You know that it was you I loved, you from the start. Lucas just pushed his way in..." Clark laughed, a weird and frightening laugh, turned back to Lex, "and you know how good he is at making you do what you know isn't quite the right thing."

Lex grinned, a bitter twist of his lip. "Yes, I know that."

"We can help each other."

"Clark...you say you loved me from the start-it was the same with me. From the moment I opened my eyes and you were looking down on me, wet and muddy and so beautiful, your amazing eyes looked right into my soul. I always loved looking at your eyes Clark. It hurt when you looked away from me."

"I won't anymore, Lex. I promise."

Lex shook his head. "Don't promise me Clark--I can't promise anything back, as much as I want to. I don't know..."

"But...you want to, I know that, and that's all I'm going to concentrate on. I mean it, we can help each other." Lex held the papers out to Clark again. "All right--then let's start on this. What say we help keep Superman from dying in the first five minutes that he meets up with Lucas?"

Clark raised an eyebrow in mock outrage. "Five minutes?"

The garage doors swept silently open, waiting for him to drive in. Lucas parked in the spot reserved for the Porsche, and sat in the car for a few minutes listening to the sounds of the country.

Too quiet out here. That's what he hated about the castle. Too damn quiet. He grabbed the small bag from the back seat and went on into the house.

He was here now, and he'd have to figure out what his next move was. He turned over some plans idly as he walked. On one point he was certain. He was hitting Clark hard. One way or another, Clark was going to hurt. That prick helped the Freak, he knew it. He could feel it.

He took his bag up to the room that was Lex's and unpacked, laying his clothes into the drawers next to Lex's. Hanging his clothes next to Lex's, pressing his face against the things there, he searched for his scent. He never passed anything of Lex's without touching it, smelling it. He couldn't walk past Lex without touching him, sniffing him. Lex hated it but he didn't say anything. Lucas liked that he never voiced it. The way he barely tolerated but submitted to it was arousing.

This thing happening now was his fault. He'd fucked everything up; in trying to clean Lex up he'd pushed him out of their world and he couldn't handle the world outside. He should have left him alone, drugged up and compliant. At least when he was fucked out of his mind he was happy, he'd do anything Lucas wanted. He still laughed in his face but he did whatever he asked because Lex loved him, even when he pretended that he didn't care, he wanted him. Lex loved getting fucked by him more than anyone else, he knew it. He could see it in his eyes whenever they played with other people--Lucas' name was always on his lips when he came. Lex loved him damn it. Why was he hiding from him? Where was he, why wouldn't he tell him--"Fucker!" Lucas kicked the closet door shut, cursed when it sprang back without shutting. "You fucker! Come back, god damn it! Come back!" He slammed his foot into it again and again until the wood splintered and sweat was running down his face, his neck. He stood in front of the door, sides eaving and the harsh sound of his breath filling the room. He started laughing. What the fuck, he was destroying Lex's room bit by bit--now the closet door was trash. He grinned at the sight of the big empty spot where their portrait had been. The staff had done a pretty good job of disguising the evidence of the last time he was in that room. He kicked the closet door out of the way, and went in, stood by the shelves and ran his hand over Lex's sweaters. He pulled one of them off the shelves, a light gray one, so fine and soft it felt like he had nothing in his hands. He held it to his face as he dropped back onto the bed, kicked off his shoes and lay there with his eyes closed and the sweater pressed against his mouth. Alone in the castle, so quiet...he ended up in the entertainment room, a movie blaring and a sandwich on a china plate balanced on his knees. He had the gas fireplace lit, all the lights were on and the movie was actually funny. It felt almost normal. Like it had been long ago when they all lived here and that damn kid had been an amusing toy and not the reason he was hurting so much.

He sighed and dropped the plate onto the table in front of him.

He did terrible things to Clark-- he'd liked him and he did terrible things anyway because he was in the way. He knew what Lex wanted from Clark and he'd known how much Clark wanted Lex. But if Clark really had wanted Lex that badly, he would have never let himself be distracted from his goal. Clark had been weak, probably was still weak. Lucas stood. That was okay, everyone had a soft spot. He groaned. Lex was his downfall. Loving Lex was going to kill him. He giggled. The thought followed him everywhere, popped up unexpectedly. He could be balls deep in someone, he could be in the middle of an important meeting, or drifting into sleep, and the thought would whisper in his brain, `Loving Lex is going to kill you.' It made him smile nowadays. It used to make him break into a cold sweat. What the fuck. Nowadays, he almost looked forward to it.

Lex looked stubborn and tired, not Clark's favorite look. "I want to go home--or some place. I can't be here anymore. It's too...too close."

Clark was confused. "You don't like it?"

"No, I mean...I'm just feeling--I have to go. It's too quiet."

Lara interrupted. "Of course Lex, you must go."

Clark was immediately angry. "But he's safest here! No one can hurt him here."

"Lucas thought no one could hurt me in the penthouse, he thought no one would hurt me in Smallville." Lex smiled sadly.

"Look, you--you'll--Lex, that's not going to happen again, okay?" Clark tried to respond calmly and evenly but he felt like grabbing Lex and shaking him hard.

"No, of course not, I'm saying that I can't live my life locked up in a tower like, like--Snow White or Rapunzel--fuck--" He snapped at Clark. "--You know what I mean!"

Clark's mouth was pressed into a tight line, and his eyebrows rose. Finally he managed to say, nearly without a smile, "You're a fairy tale princess?"

"Fuck you Clark!" Lex burst into startled laughter and Clark beamed, thrilled to have made Lex laugh.

"You do understand though, don't you?" Lex asked when he'd calmed down again.

Clark nodded slowly, sadly. "All right. There are three places you'd be the safest, and one of them is definitely out for the question for now."

Lex smiled bitterly. "Gotham."

Clark went on. "Which leaves my apartment in the city...or Mom and Dad."

Lex shook his head. "No. I'm not putting your family in danger. I refuse to even consider that as an option."

Clark sighed. "Lex, the farm is under surveillance all the time, has been since I was a kid and Bruce...Bruce found out about me."

Lex `s eyes widened. "He's known that long...when? Oh. Since he came with me to Smallville...of course."

"He's helped us since that time. I've doubled security since I took you. No one gets anywhere near the farm without us knowing. It might look unprotected but the place is a fortress practically."

Lex nodded, hearing `since I took you' echoing in his head. "If Bruce designed the defenses, I'm sure they're thorough, not to mention interesting," he grinned. "Bruce loves to play with his toys."

Clark coughed quietly. "Maybe he did...He's a little less playful now. I'm afraid, as much as he used to warn me about letting the job wear you down, he hasn't heeded his own advice very well. What we do, it's the kind of thing that chips away at you..." He sighed. "Maybe we did help each other. I hope so."

Lex raised an eyebrow but didn't speak. He wasn't so sure he did want to know exactly what Clark meant. Clark shrugged. "I'll take him to the farm," he spoke to the air. Lex was used to it by now and didn't react and Lara answered. `Yes. That seems a good choice."

Clark frowned, obviously not happy to take Lex out of what was certainly perfect safety but Lex needed to see sky again, breathe unfiltered, un-recycled air, feel wind on his face. He loved being with Clark, but it was like being in the apartment in Metropolis, day in and day out not moving from one spot only without the amusing drug and alcohol haze...he just wanted to start living again. Feel what it was like again, to be his own man. He gnawed at his lip, and wondered how he could manage that--tried to think of some scenario in which it didn't all end up in death.

Lucas was busy. He watched Smallville, he watched Metropolis, he watched the Kents and he watched the other hicks in the town. No sign of Lex anywhere, nothing, not a breath--wherever Lex was it really wasn't Smallville.

That didn't mean that Kent or his parents didn't know where he might be, or where The Freak had him hidden, he'd need to have a talk with them. Maybe go down to that fucking ugly coffee shop Martha ran, or out to the farm and have a little chat with Jonathan.

At the plant, he was busy, checking on the progress of the various projects that were completely legal and extremely profitable and going to make the government and LuthorCorp very happy, on a business level and a personal level.

He was enthusiastic about development of all the projects--but especially that of his private project. His special project, hidden in the funding for the official ones, bit by bit, quietly and secretly constructed and tested...it was beautiful. His alone. He let himself into a level that didn't exist any longer, that had been dismantled and sealed off under the watchful eyes of the state years ago, the place where his beautiful project was born.

He walked into the office area, and enjoyed the little wave of panic that swept the room. Everyone came to alert, hyper aware that the boss was on board. Except of course for Darrell, the head of this particular project, whose only concession was to sit upright. He dropped his feet to the floor and folded his hands on his desk.

"Mr. Luthor," he sneered.

"Darrell," Lucas sneered back. "Oh. Pardon me, Dr.* Haine."

"Whatever," Darrell grinned and jammed a cigarette into the corner of his mouth.

Lucas frowned. "You can't smoke that here."

"Of course I can, that what the air scrubbers are for."

"They're not for cleaning the shit you're spewing out."

"Oh for fucks sake, stop whining like a little bitch. Come on, I've got something to show you that's going to make you very happy."

They were walking down a featureless hall, Darrell describing the progress on his baby, and then they were in front of it, looking through the glass into the dimly lit room that housed it. It gleamed in the light and even now it looked beautiful and deadly. He turned to Darrell and grinned. "The first day I met you, I knew you were going to be good luck for me. What you've done--it's fucking amazing."

"Yeah, it is," Darrell said, grinning. He grabbed Lucas' tie in his fist and pulled him close. "You said I'd be filthy rich and you didn't lie." He stared into Lucas' eyes and his grin turned nasty. "Wanna go up to the office and get a drink--celebrate that you're almost there?"

Lucas had been hard since he looked at his pet project. "Yeah," he breathed out, his breath fogging the glass.

"Let's get a drink, Darrell."

After, pleasantly sore, exhausted and dripping sweat on the couch in Darrell's office, he questioned him on the progress, how much longer it would take.

"There's some work needed on the interface. You need to be hooked up to it---and it's painful. We're trying to figure out how to make it less painful."

Lucas nodded. "Okay, so what's in the works?'

"A few of the mutants might be helpful." Darrell sat up right and fished his glasses and cigarettes out of the pile of clothing on the floor, lit up. "See, your mutation is causing problems. You heal too fast and we don't want that. We want to slow down the healing factor without destroying it. We're looking for that in some of the residents here..." He got up and walked over to his desk, adjusting his glasses as he shuffled through the folders on his desk. He made a little noise of satisfaction, grabbed a folder and handed it to Lucas. "There are some of the results we've gotten." He picked up his clothes and began dressing while Lucas looked over the papers.

"But this means it'll be months, or longer before we're ready. I can't wait that long. Won't the interface disengage--"

The ports would be left in your skin--we don't want them to heal over, we don't want the device to become a permanent part of you.

"Why? Would it be dangerous?"

"Well no--we don't think so but it would become part of you, you'd never be rid of it. And honestly I don't know what that would do to you. In our test subjects, we've been able to remove it because it doesn't become part of the subjects but with you. Well. It's all different, isn't it?"

Lucas thought about what Darrell was telling him, that without an agent to slow his healing power, he would become even more changed then he was now, something that he was able to avoid thinking of, normally. Lex's and his abilities never came to mind unless something called his attention to it, like Lex's surviving what would be a killing overdose in anyone else, or broken bones healing in days, cuts and abrasions disappearing, sometimes in a matter of hours, without a trace. Something he thought--knew-- was a sign of superiority, and now, might slow down his recovery of Lex. No. One way or another, he was going to be ready soon.

He dressed, mulled over what Darrell said and a thought bloomed---"Darrell, what about the meteor?"

Darrell was already at his desk, at work. "Hmm..." he said, distracted. He looked at Lucas over the screen. "What--the meteorites? We used them in the construction of the thing. It's mixed into the metal--it's not something to play with, you know that. We've provided as much shielding as we can without making it too heavy to move."

"I'm talking about using it to slow down the healing--"

"Are you nuts? Besides being carcinogenic, and mutagenic, there's the enormous probability of it killing you straight out."

"No it won't. It hasn't killed anyone yet. Hell, people have liquefied and ingested it."

"But not full strength. And you know that people have been altered from simple exposure to it. You know some of the residents are former employees, and we do our utmost to make sure that exposure is minimal."

"Look, I'm positive that it won't kill me, I only intend to use enough to slow down the healing, that's all."

"We'd be on surer ground if we had someone with the same abilities as a test subject. Your brother would be perfect."

Lucas smiled and revealed none of the rage that roared through him. He kept on smiling and decided that he was definitely trying his baby out on Darrell first. He'd make an excellent test subject. "I'm afraid that's out of the question."

"Oh. Well, too bad," Darrell said, blissfully unaware that the project was the best and the last work he'd do. "We'll make do. You coming again tomorrow?"

Lucas dressed and put his coat back on. "That depends on you, doesn't it?"

Three days in Smallville and Lex still felt cut off from everyone. Martha was doing her best and Jonathan tried to draw him out, but he felt unreal, like he was made of plastic and the world was playing out on a screen. Clark was busy, catching up on work that had piled up while he was gone, and though Lex tried to lose himself in work around the farm, there wasn't much that he could do. Jonathan had hired help when Clark moved to Metropolis and Martha politely bristled when he offered to help around the house. He spent a lot of time walking and thinking and worrying. He spent too much time thinking about his brother.

"Martha, I need to go into town, just for a little bit. Do you think that's possible?"

The look she gave him was distinctly unhappy. "Well, I don't know...Clark wouldn't be very comfortable to have you away from the security of the farm..."

"Clark's not here and I really didn't want to trade one gilded cage for another."

Martha winced; she understood how Lex must feel. "Maybe...maybe we can take a quick run into town."

Lex smiled, "I can wear a disguise if you like."

She laughed. "You think you're joking, mister. You are definitely going to wear a disguise."

"What? A wig and rubber nose?" He looked at her incredulously. "You're kidding! And you're getting way too much enjoyment from the idea to be kidding." He shook his head. "You Kents--you enjoy making my life difficult."

Martha shook her head, giggling. "No, no, I'm not trying to be difficult, really not--I don't think we need a rubber nose, at least." She gestured for him to follow her.

"I swear, I'm not wearing a wig." He followed her up to Clark's bedroom and watched as she went through his closet, choosing clothing.

"Here. All you need is a belt and a pair of sunglasses and I think we'll be fine."

Lex looked at the jeans, tee-shirt, and Crows sweatshirt laid out on the bed. The sweatshirt was the hooded kind, and the jeans looked too big, worn at the knees, and he noticed, other places....

She smiled. "The jeans will be a little baggy but not too much. Clark's shoes will never fit you but a pair of Jonathan's work boots should fit you just fine," she said, giving his feet a critical eye.

He picked up the sweat shirt and wrinkled his nose slightly. He held the sweatshirt a little closer to his face and tried to sniff without being obvious. "Great," Lex said. "I'll look like some rapper wanna-be."

Martha smothered a laugh behind her hand. "I'm pretty sure you won't Lex, but what you also won't look like is the fabulously wealthy Lex Luthor. Keep the hood up and the glasses on, and you'll do fine." She tossed a ball cap at him. "Wear this under the hood."

He gaped at her. "You're kidding! You're not kidding...."

She shook her head. "No, I'm not. It's either the cap, or a wig, and I just happen to have a blonde one--don't ask," she said at Lex's lifted eyebrow. "Now. Cap."

Lex didn't know why he worried about Lucas. He could probably send Martha after him and scare him to death.

Amanda was working behind the counter when she heard the door bell ring. She glanced up and saw that Ryan was already greeting the customer--it was Jonathan Kent, with a teenager in tow--a typical kid, sagging jeans and hoody, shades, trying to look hard. She smiled to herself and mentally dismissed him, greeted Jonathan warmly. Martha ordered books from her frequently--she'd been careful to cultivate a friendship.

She found the Kents were oddly reserved for small town residents, particularly living on the outskirts as they did--people who were out-of-the-way tended to want to make connections, unlike the Kents. They seemed to have no close fiends in town or amongst their neighbors. She found their behavior interesting but the Boss didn't seem to care, beyond their connection to his brother he couldn't care less about them.

Kent said something to the kid, hesitating for a moment before he spoke. The kid was slow in responding, but quickly nodded as if he hadn't heard him. He walked towards the history section, and she noticed the way he moved didn't seem to match his look. She waited. It could be that Kent had hired a new farmhand--though the likelihood that he'd be shopping with a new hand was improbable.

They came to the register and the kid started to put his choice on the counter, Kent took the book from his hand and paid, giving him a hard look when the kid reached toward his pocket. Amanda took the opportunity to look closely at him.

She looked him over sharply. Not a kid after all--under the ill-fitting clothing was a grown man. She studied him carefully as she rang up the books.

"Tell Martha I might have the books she wanted soon, Jonathan."

"Oh, thanks, she'll be happy to hear that." He smiled but made no move to introduce the young man. There was a faint scar on the man's upper lip. She smiled. "See you soon."

Kent waved goodbye as the two walked out the door.

She called Lucas a few minutes later, and then told Ryan that she might have to leave town for a few days--family obligations. It was up to Lucas whether she'd be back or not.

She gave Ryan the rest of the day off, and went into the storeroom, humming quietly. She was certain that the farm's security shouldn't be a problem, these places usually only had motion sensors, window or door contacts in the way of security. They might have a system that alerted the cops, more than likely not.

She considered taking a gun, decided against it. A knife would probably be better. She looked over the case she'd opened, and after some thought, chose the plastic knives. She didn't anticipate any trouble; they were excellent for close work and easy to dispose of. She tucked a length of piano wire in with the knife she chose. Jonathan was healthy and in good shape, she'd make sure to take him from behind.

She tucked the case away, prepared a syringe. There was no way she was going to be responsible for any damage to the Boss' brother. He was known to be totally unreasonable where he was concerned.

Lucas sat back and stared at the ceiling. So Lex was back in Smallville and living with the Kents. That was nice--how cozy and sweet was that? He hoped they were taking good care of him. He growled, his hands shook as he traced a line across the dark surface of the desk. After a moment, he jumped to his feet and raced down to the pool. He ripped his clothes off as he ran, hopping as he tore off pants and boxers and kicked off his moccasins. He leaped into the water at a furious run--hit the water like a knife, stroked hard and fast from one end of the pool to the other, over and over until his lungs burned and his heart pounded hard.

He hung from the edge of the pool, panting in equal parts from exertion and anger, teeth bared in a smile. In a very short while, Lex was going to be sitting in that crap house by himself---more or less.

He should have told Smith to blow the fucker up--like he ordered for Kent's place.... he bit at his thumbnail and kicked his feet in the water. Maybe that had been a mistake...shit. Oh well, it was out of his hands now, and even if Kent suspected, there was no way he could connect it to him.

He was up stairs again, wrapped a towel around his waist and used another to dry his hair. At first the sound of the TV in the entertainment room was muffled. He settled the damp towel around his shoulders and realized it was blaring the news that an apartment building in Metropolis had been leveled, several of the residents were missing and presumed to have died in the blast. Nearly an entire block was in flames.

Lucas slammed his fist into the desktop. "Son-of-a bitch! I told that asshole to take the apartment out--not the mother fucking block. Idiot." He was furious. It was like using a hand grenade to kill fleas on a dog, fucking idiot. He was angry enough to have the fuck-up terminated, but it was his own fault for being too impatient. He should have waited for Amanda to finish the clean-up in Smallville and let her handle this. She was very precise, like a surgeon. He liked that. It reminded him of Lex, somehow.

With a bone deep sigh, he picked up his phone, dialed the LuthorCorp office. "Security," he barked into the phone and without pause he was connected to his security head.

"Yes sir?" The man didn't waste his time with small talk, he liked that. "Send Harris out here, I think I need to double my security."

"Yes sir, would you like me to send Anderson and Wright also?"

"No--Harris will do." There was a moment of silence and even though the man might not voice a question it was evident in his tone. "Yes sir. By car or helicopter?"

"Helicopter. I'll be waiting."

"Okay, he's on his way."

Lucas sat back again and smiled. Harris might stop Kent.... he frowned, but not the Flying Freak. He thought about the disastrous turn the Metropolis thing took--was he making the same mistake here...no, he really wanted those hicks dead. They were helping to keep Lex from him. He was frustrated and angry and unsure and it was driving him nuts and he couldn't remember ever feeling quite this way. What the hell was wrong with him?

what's wrong with you?* You're suffering paranoid delusions,* hearing....*

"Oh for god's sake shut the fuck up. Can't you bother someone else for once?" Lucas tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

sorry...but you do realize you are compounding your mistake...*

Lucas dug his fingers into his scalp, yanked hard at his hair. "I know it, I know it, damn it."

Amanda was nearly in sight of the Kent farmhouse, she had a few books and a bag of chocolate chip cookies sitting on the seat next to her. The truck bumped over the potholes in the road, and swerved a bit. She cursed as she straightened it on the road. She was oddly on edge, adrenaline making her jumpy instead of alert. Something didn't feel right. She briefly considered calling Luthor and telling him it was off for today---he never questioned her decisions when it came to her business...she shook her head. Retirement was beginning to look like an attractive option, she was feeling needlessly nervous, after all, they were just a pair of farmers. She could see the farmhouse ahead, and she plastered a smile on her face, ready....

Jonathan was getting mail from the postbox at the end of the drive. She cursed quietly to herself. Damn it, he was supposed to be in the field, away from the house. She'd planned to use the cookies and books to distract Martha while she took care of the brother, take Martha out first, a snap to get rid of her and then on to Jonathan. With what she'd chosen, she'd never get them both unless she could separate them. The cell phone in her pocket vibrated against her breast, and she slowed to a crawl to answer.

"Not today," The Boss. She felt a degree of relief out of proportion to what was happening.

"Agreed," she replied and broke the connection. If there were anything else, he'd contact her this evening. She drove past Jonathan, who waved and smiled, she smiled and waved back and kept driving.

She looked at the bag on the seat and took a cookie out---no sense in letting perfectly good chocolate chip cookies go to waste.

As short as the trip into town had been, Lex felt refreshed, recharged. He felt he could be patient until Clark came back home and they could make plans to move ahead with his life.

Martha and Lex were coming into the kitchen from the garden when Jonathan yelled for her to come into the living room quick. The TV was on and the street reporter was excitedly yelling into his mike, behind him flames shot into the sky, and arcs of water lashed at blackened burning hulks behind him. "The apartment complex is four alarms now, companies from other parts of the city are here. It looks as if it may have been a gas explosion but authorities say they are still investigating.

Martha's face was white, and it suddenly clicked in Lex's mind with the force of a punch. That was Clark's building...the complex he lived in, Clark's neighbors on the street, and Lex heard the reporter announce that several people were presumed dead. His fault, all of it. It was his fault. He drew in a shuddering breath. And Clark was going to blame himself.

Jonathan's head snapped his way. "No," he said after catching Lex's expression. "It' not you, understand? It's a horrible coincidence, things happen, Lex and they're not always about you.'

Lex nodded and tried to look like he believed what Jonathan was saying.

Clark landed outside the ring of trucks, and the captain turned to him.

"Superman. We've got the fire under control--do you mind," he gestured to the building and Clark nodded grimly. He swept the structure with his x-ray vision and listened deeply. Nothing. No one left alive in that place, but in what would have been a rear apartment huddled four bodies.

They had had a dog, that family, and their name--he couldn't recall at the moment, but he knew their names, said good morning, pat their dog....

He felt like he was going to explode. He wanted to kill him with his bare hands, hear him beg for life, beg for forgiveness.

A few days later and Lucas was laying face down on a table in the project room; Darrell was fiddling around with something out of range of his eyesight. "Now, this might sting a little. Well, a lot, really. I'm going to inject it here, and here," he was saying and pressed between his shoulder blades and at the base of his spine. He held the syringe full of evil looking green liquid so Lucas could se it.

"Okay, okay, go ahead--shit!" He felt a prick between his shoulders and then, fire poured outward from a point between them and ate everything as it grew. He was grinding his teeth together, holding in a scream, and then another prick and fire rolled up his spine. "Fuckfuckfuck," he groaned and his hands were fisted in the cheap cotton sheet of the table. He refused to move any more than that, not when each movement felt like his muscles were trying to tear themselves into shreds, and fire was still trying to eat him from the inside out. Muscles jumped at random, and his skin twitched like it was about to crawl off his bones.

"You okay? Because, I have to test..."

Lucas didn't trust his voice, he nodded his head, one sharp quick movement and then an ice-cold line ran down his back, turned hot almost before it registered.

"What the fuck was that," he growled hoarsely.

"Scalpel", came the laconic response. "...it's still bleeding. Good."

Lucas wanted to say something, but he was drowning under a wave of euphoric well being that filled every cell, he felt fucking amazing, like he was riding the crest of the world's most intense and long-lasting orgasm. There wasn't anything that he couldn't do, nothing, nothing, he was fucking invincible, he was a god, he could tear that Flying Freak into bloody bits and then piss on the bits... "Fuck! What the hell is this?"

Darrell smirked. "Yeah, we noticed it had that effect too. Bonus, right? Okay, lay here a while until the attendant comes for you. We'll do the interface at a later date." He sat so that he and Lucas were eye to eye. "Now, when it's activated, it will want to link into your nervous system. When it's deactivated, it will disengage. That's what it's designed to do."

Lucas was a veteran of more than a few boardroom pitches. "Designed to do--that's code for we don't know what the fuck it's really going to do. So, what are the odds it won't release? That will make this poison you're shooting me full of rather unnecessary, won't it?" He was still floating on the feeling of omnipotence, and slowly starting to come down.

"Yeah, but if it works like it's supposed to, you don't want your body healing over it, you don't want to wear a steel spine outside your body forever, do you?"

"No, no," Lucas giggled. "Just think of the tailoring charges alone."

Darrell stared at him. "Um."

When he arrived at the castle, Harris was waiting for him in the study, still and straight as a Swiss Guard.

"You're here. Good. I need to make a phone call, come stand by the desk."

Harris lifted an eyebrow, but complied.

Lucas dialed Lex's cell phone number, not sure if he had it still. He leaned back and closed his eyes and suddenly he felt a wave of that euphoria again, not as intense but enough to make him melt in the chair. Harris watched him silently, watched the liquid movement Lucas made as the drug slammed through him. The phone rang, and rang and he was about to disconnect when a thin voice said, Yes?"

"Lex, it's me. Something happened that..."

"What do you want, Lucas?"

He turned his chair so he was facing Harris, very close to him. He could almost feel heat radiating from him and Harris shifted minutely, uneasily. "What do I want?" He laughed, a dry croak empty of humor. "What do I want? I want things to be the same, but I'm not fool enough to think that's going to happen. You're really not coming back and there's nothing I can do."

"You can hope Clark won't kill you for what you did."

"God--that--that was a mistake." His voice dipped and broke, he flipped open the laptop on his desk. "I...didn't mean for that to happen." He choked, his voice thick with emotion. Inside he hummed a little, opened his mail and checked new messages. "You have to believe me, it was supposed to be a scare, that's all---just a little smoke, not that inferno I..." Not too much emotion, he didn't want to go over the top. He let the pause drag on, read what was on his screen while he waited.

"All right," Lex said, and Lucas smiled. Touched Harris behind the knee and watched the reaction. "Maybe you didn't mean to do it, but the fact remains, people died and you don't give a damn, don't insult me with that ludicrous act."

"But you care about it, that's why it matters to me. Believe me, Lex, I'm sorry." Fuck yeah, he was sorry, it was all over the news, Clark Kent , the Daily Planet reporter's building going up in flames--though come to think of it, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing...Clark didn't look singled out. He ran his hand slowly up the back of Harris leg. Every cloud... "Say that again?"

"I warn you not to try and hurt the Kents, the repercussions would be devastating, believe me."

"Again you're warning me. Lex, I swear, on our mother's grave, I swear that I won't hurt the Kents. I wouldn't. Now. They have nothing to fear from me." His voice rang so true, so sincere, that he almost believed himself, and he could feel Lex believing him. Again. Because he loved him and wanted so desperately to believe him. It brought tears to his eyes and he pulled his hand away from Harris, who made a tiny mouse like noise when he moved away that went straight to Lucas' dick. Oh yes.

He wiped his eyes and asked Lex, "Will you meet with me?"

"No, that would make me an insane person! Why even ask Lucas, just let it go."

"Please? Please? Any place you choose, whatever makes you feel safe--even though you never have to be afraid of me, I can't hurt you. Just, please...just once." Lucas groaned inside, felt disgusting and weak and begged him anyway. Everything else in the room was forgotten as he concentrated on willing Lex to say yes, please say yes. If he got him to agree to that, than he had a shot...he had that inch....

"Let me think about it, okay?"

Triumph shot through Lucas like the drug. Yes! "Yes, of course. Call me, let me know. I love you, you know that right?"

"Yes." Lex disconnected and Lucas grinned. He was going to see him tonight, and he'd see him here. He was sure of it. And when he got him in here...

Guilt was a wonderful tool, Lex's guilt, his own guilt, all useful.

Harris still stood at his side, and Lucas looked at the press of his dick against the fabric of his trousers and that made him smile too. He glanced up and the man was staring straight ahead and swallowing... "Nervous?"

"No. No, I don't..."

Lucas stared, stared at his crotch and watched his dick swell, jerk against the loose soft fabric. Nice he thought. Very nice. A bead of sweat worked its way down Harris' temple, detoured around his ear "Strip."

Harris startled. "Strip? Now?"

"You heard me," Lucas turned his attention back to the laptop, answered mail, sent memos to his aides and read over the new information that Darrell sent. In the background he could hear the soft non-sound that fabric made when it hit the floor, metallic jingle of a buckle being worked loose...he waited a beat and said, "Kneel." And continued to work. His back felt uncomfortable, tacky blood made his shirt stick to him--it was a good sign at least, it meant healing was slowed down--the project would work. A little while passed again before he finally turned to face Harris, naked and of course kneeling on the floor.

Complete obedience. Lucas liked that in a person.

Harris was semi-erect, a blush staining his cheeks, his neck--Lucas watched him, as fascinated as a wolf watching a hare--Harris' dick jerked upwards.

Easing out of the chair, Lucas circled Harris in a tight orbit, never quite touching him. "You're hard like that because I'm looking at you. You can speak," he added knowing that Harris knew--this was a variation on the game.

"Yes." One word, low, harsh, trembling on the edge of self-control. His dick jerked hard.

Lucas laughed softly, touched his shoulder and ran a finger lightly from one wing of bone to the other. Harris tried not to lean into the touch, Lucas noted and smiled. He liked that.

"Please." The man's voice was rougher, strained, and low enough that Lucas had to try to hear him. "Please." He said again. A drop of fluid spun from the tip of his dick and fell to his thigh and Lucas liked that too.

"Please," he groaned. Lucas moved his hand from his shoulder to his throat, and squeezed. Hard. "You talk too much." And another drop welled up and fell to his thigh...every touch of Lucas' fingers, his nails, brought sound from the bowed figure on the floor. "Too much noise." His back arched and his dick strained upward, bobbing with every breath he pulled in. "It `s distracting" and Lucas went to his desk, opened the briefcase. "But we're in luck--I brought toys..."

He came back to Harris and showed him what was in his hand, his blue eyes sparkling with an overly bright inner light--a ballgag. Harris closed his eyes and bit his lip viciously, groaned in his throat. Shook his head a fraction. No.

Lucas grinned wider. "Oh yes."

Harris was curled on his side on the rug, shuddering in slow waves, and Lucas was kneeling over him. "This one does something even more interesting," he said and slowly pushed a tapered plastic rod into Harris, twisting it slightly as he did. He groaned and squeezed his eyes tighter, tears leaked from the corners. With most of it inserted Lucas pressed a button on the wire trailing from it and smiled when he bucked and made a noise, drool wet his chin, his dick trembled, he arched and shook. Lucas encouraged him, raking his fingers across his belly but never touching him, and the man was nearly frantic.

"I want you on your knees again."

He moaned around the gag, he was breathing heavily through his nose, but managed to make it to his knees. His hands were fastened behind his back, his mouth was full, he was flushed red and sweating, and hard and Lucas was entirely pleased. He rummaged through a desk drawer," Ah, here it is," he smiled and held up a tube of lube. "I knew I threw this in here." He unbuckled his belt and Harris' eyes were glued to his every movement. "I'm going to fuck you now."

He looked pathetically grateful, he groaned as the feeling became intense again and the vibration increased, and slowly relaxed as the vibrations slowed. "Like that? I can make it slower or faster, tell me which you prefer." Lucas laughed and came closer. "What's the matter? You're so quiet."

He pulled Harris' face against his groin. "You're making me hard..." Harris rubbed his face against Lucas. "Nice." There was a knock and Lucas moved back. "Yes? Come in." Harris whipped his head toward him--eyes wide in disbelief. He groaned and Lucas was rather surprised that he still had it in him to be mortified. He dipped his chin to his chest and shut his eyes and Lucas thought he looked very pretty that way.

A member of the staff entered, a slightly annoyed twist to his lips "Mr. Luthor is in the foyer sir. He insisted that he wouldn't come further, even when I told him you requested he meet you in the...study...." His eyes darted from Harris to Lucas and his eyes widened a fraction as he fought to maintain an expression of mild disinterest. Harris was about to be the main topic of conversation...everywhere, the minute the man was out of the room. "Thank you. You can go."

The door closed with a soft click and he stood over Harris, ran his hand over his face, held his nostrils shut until his eyes rolled frantically, and he tried to pull back.

Lucas shook his head. "That hurts, you don't trust me?" Harris stared at him and hesitantly nodded. Lucas smiled. "Well, than you're the only one who does," he chuckled but released the gag and felt the man try not to breathe a sigh of relief. He licked his lips carefully and kept his eyes on Lucas like a wary cat.

"I'll be back, relax," he grinned. He bent down and stroked his dick; let the hot weight jump in his palm. "But not too much." He walked out and looked back. Harris looked like he was in agony, his dick strained back towards his belly, and his skin was streaked with glistening trails of pre-come, his chest heaved... "Breathe," Lucas grinned. "Don't forget to breathe."

Light flooded the foyer, making it look almost bright and cheerful; and Lex turned from the light to face him. His expression said he was impatient and maybe a little uncertain but Lucas only saw that he was alive and beautiful and standing in his home again. His heart struck one sharp painful slam against his ribs.

"Kind of you to come so soon," he drawled, sauntered into the foyer and leaned against a table. He had to concentrate intensely to maintain control, to project casual interest.

Lex looked him over and knew--he smiled, a lop-sided flash of teeth and cold eyes before his face went still again. "Let's make this quick. The Kents would have a stroke if they knew I was here."

But you're here,* a part of Lucas gleefully noted. "Can we sit in the entertainment room, talk a bit? It's nice to see you."

Lex hesitated, nodded and walked to the room. Lucas followed. Every inch of him was moaning for Lex's touch, his tongue quivered with the desire to taste him, his skin cried out for him, just watching him walk was making him hard and he slid his hand into his pocket and stroked himself.

Lex went in ahead and sat stiffly on the edge on the edge of the couch, every line of his body screaming caution. Lucas went straight to the bar. He needed something to steady himself, at least keep his hands busy.

He heard, "What exactly do you want from me? No, wait, I'll tell you--you want me to move back, you want things to be the same." Lucas came back, handed Lex a drink. Lex's mouth twisted into a parody of a smile and he took it. "Save your breath. It's not going to happen."

Lucas said, "I'm not stupid. All I want is for you to be happy. It's all I've ever wanted, whether you believe me or not."

"You want to make me happy? Fine--buy out my shares of LuthorCorp. I don't want anything to do with the business anymore--you're more invested in it than I ever was. I don't--it was something Dad wanted for me." Lex sighed and his eyelids drooped as if they were too heavy to hold open.

Lucas looked for a crack, some place that he could insert a claw and lever open. Lex had time to build armor, now he needed time to pick it apart. He leaned closer. "Tell me why he took you, did he want to hurt me or did he just want you?" He didn't have to say who `he' was--Lex sneered and started to rise but Lucas grabbed his wrist. Gently, he was barely closing his fingers but Lex stopped and dropped back to the couch as if he'd yanked him down.

"Don't do this, Lucas, it's tiresome and we've been here before."

"Tell me what he wants from you, that's all I want to know." Lex turned his head away and Lucas felt a warm wall of black hate slam up behind him, break over him like a wave. "You're protecting him. Understandable, you've always been loyal as possible to your friends." His hand slid down until he was cradling Lex's hand. Lex let it lay there, dead and passive in his grip, too cool, too lax. He traced the knuckles, the tendons. Lex's hands were so thin, like twigs and wires and he was glad. It meant he wasn't content and that was good. All he ever needed was an inch, and after Superman was dead and Clark and his parents swept out of the way....

Lex tried to pull his hand away and brought Lucas back into the present, and a calm, nearly sane thought floated through his mind. There was another way, a way to save a lot of pain for every one..."You can kill me, you know, if you'd rather I was dead. I wouldn't stop you." He raised his eyes to Lex. "It'd be better, better for everyone. You'd be saving the world so much grief if you did." There wasn't a bit of him that wasn't calling out to Lex to do it, do it now.

Lex leaned back against the sofa and sighed. "God, Lucas, do you ever stop to think about what you say? I don't want you dead. Don't talk like that. Kill you--Jesus, how could I?"

Lucas smiled inside. A chink in the armor... "But you can kill yourself." Lucas threaded his fingers through Lex's. "Unless you kill me, I will bring Hell. I'll carpet the world with acres and acres of drying bone and blood will rain from the sky if you don't. Kill me or stay with me, either one--don't and I'll kill everything."

Lex opened his eyes and stared as if he'd never seen him before and Lucas just smiled. `Wow, that was rather biblical,' he thought and in the back of his mind; a tiny voice said `oops, your slip is showing' before trailing off in helpless giggles. Lucas' heart was slamming in his chest, his lungs labored to fill with air and he felt electric, he could practically feel raw power arcing over his skin--he felt as though he could do it now--he could level everything around him using the power in his mind if he wanted to.

He yanked Lex to him; one hand slid to the back of his head and the other twined into the collar of his shirt, and kissed him. A soft little tremble of a kiss against his mouth. tender. A whisper, an echo of a kiss. He wanted more but he didn't dare move, he was afraid of hurting Lex.

Lex slid a hand down his cheek to his neck, and Lucas trembled with everything he held chained inside, Lex moved on to his collarbone and he leaned into the touch--quick as a cobra, Lex drove his thumb into the hollow of his throat. Stars of pain floated behind his eyelids and hot tears burned under them as he gagged helplessly. Fury blinded him--Lucas pushed him down and threw himself on top of Lex, grinding hard until he managed to push his legs apart, he was heavier and stronger and held him down easily. He thrust hard against him, his hands gripped Lex and his hips collided against him over and over, convincing himself that Lex's struggles weren't efforts to break free until his fist connected with his temple.

"What the fuck," Lex panted when he'd gotten the couch between them--"What's wrong with you, you usually have a little more finesse than this."

Lucas howled and lunged for him, falling over the couch. He was laughing at him? Laughing? No--"No!" he screamed, "Stop it."

Something ugly and comfortably familiar rose up in Lex's eyes, and he gestured for Lucas to come near and he did, their eyes locked and Lucas felt a shiver of fear and anticipation. Lex. thrust his hand into his pants , his knuckles digging painfully into his belly and grasped his erection. He began jerking him hard, it was too dry and too rough, Lex dragged nails over his flesh, it hurt and his pants were too tight, it hurt more and more and he was shouting, trying to fuck Lex's fist, and Lex told him over and over how much he didn't want him, how wretched and pitiful and useless he was. He came with nearly his whole hand shoved into his mouth--the thought that Lex's hand was painted with his come sent waves of ecstasy through him, his hips snapped and he bit down until he tasted blood in his mouth.

When he came back to himself Lex was looking at him, eyes hard as diamond and his face was still and blank. Lucas held himself up with his grip on Lex's shoulders, watched as Lex used his shirttail to wipe his hand on. "Did you think that was going to keep me away?" Lucas laughed. "It was perfect, thanks."

Like his words broke a spell, Lex's eyes cleared and the realization of what he'd just done made his jaw drop--he looked stricken and ill.

"See? Who know you better, than me? Who else would love all of you, even that? Especially that," he said and licked his lips. He laughed softly as Lex jumped back. "You know you need me."

Lucas felt laughter bubbling up, it's warmth spreading in his chest and about to break free, and Lex pulled himself taller, his head want back and his eyes flared. "Fuck you Lucas--I can live without you." Lex started to smile, a little. "I can live without you." he said again as if he'd just discovered something incredible and backed up to the door.

"No you can't." Lucas said. "I won't let you."

Lex shook his head. "You don't understand anything. That's why you'll never get past where you are now. I'm sorry for you--no--I'm not." He looked a little surprised. "I'm really not. " He swung about and left the room, his walk was that hip swinging, arrogant stride he used to have, long, long ago.

Lucas stared after him. Something happened to Lex. He was different. Something inside of him had changed--or reappeared. Lucas strolled to the stairway, headed back to the study.

So Lex had changed. So what. Lucas had a lot of experience in changing men too. Whatever Lex thought he was `free' of, he was still Lex deep inside--deep down there was something that craved Lucas. No problem. He had more than enough time to remind Lex of that.

He had Harris face down on the rug, his hand was wrapped in his hair, fist yanking him back onto his dick, the wet slap of flesh was deafening in the silence.

"Talk god damn it! Tell me!

Harris moaned and said, "I like it fuck me fuck me harder, hit me. Hit me!

Lucas yanked back so hard on the fist full of hair in his hand he could hear strands giving way and Harris whined. "Yeah--"

He grunted as his knees squealed across the floor with the force of Lucas' thrust. He slammed into him so hard the impact sounded like a crack, Lucas grabbed his arm and Harris crashed face first into the floor and Lucas never stopped "--bitch, I'm going to kill you," and yanked his arm up until he cried out. "Want me to stop? Tell me. I'll stop."

Harris shook his head no and Lucas laughed, "Course you don't." He let his arm go and began fucking him steady, quick shallow thrusts until he groaned deep in his throat, began shivering--he pulled out and snapped, "Over." and Harris rolled to his back and Lucas exploded, his dick leaped and spurt, he came on the man's face. His teeth were bared and he knew he must look wild, Harris, gasped and closed his eyes. Fear made him shudder and Lucas told him, "go on, do it." His fist flew over his dick and he came as hard as Lucas had. Bitch

"Get dressed, clean this mess up."

All the way on the drive home, Lex smiled. He felt...alive. He parked, took his time as he walked up the drive; looking all around him. It felt like he was seeing the Kent farmhouse for the first time, as though seven years hadn't passed. It gleamed bright and welcoming in the sunlight--the lawn, the garden, the emerald of new growth in the fields, the bright yellow and white of the house--it was all brand new to his eyes. It was all amazing and beautiful and he felt he was part of it, like he had a place in the world.

He came closer to the house and from Martha's garden, he heard the familiar drone of bees. From a little farther away, he heard the cows in their shed, low and grumbling, the sharp barks of dogs, and in the far distance kids yelling, laughing--end of the school day and freedom. Freedom. He smiled wider. Freedom was a distinct possibility. He ran lightly up the porch steps and walked into the kitchen like family.

Martha was at the sink and whirled when she heard his footsteps. "Lex, oh thank god there you are!"

Her face went from controlled panic to anger as she swept him with a practiced eye and saw he was safely in one piece. "Where the heck have you been," she snapped as she took the phone of the table and began to dial. "Quiet!" she said as Lex opened his mouth. "He's home, he's fine. See you in a few." She hung up and stared at Lex. "You know what, don't even tell me--I'm so angry at this moment. Why didn't you tell us you were going out? Jonathan has been driving all over town looking for you."

He laughed, "I went to see Lucas. " He kept grinning and she looked at him in shock, her forehead creased in worry.

"Lex, you could have been--are you crazy? He could have done--anything to you! What are we protecting you for? God, Clark is going to go ballistic!"

"It was fine. I'm fine." He smiled wider and wider until he laughed again. "I'm fine." He walked up and hugged her, and for a brief second she stiffened--and then she relaxed and hugged him back hard.

"Lex--I don't know what to say--"

"Martha--I think I might be able to see a light after all. I think everything is going to be fine." He beamed at her and she smiled back but worry still nagged at the corners of her smile.

"Oh, sweetie, before I forget, you got a message today," and her voice lightened, "from Clark. He said he tried to call you but you didn't answer."

Lex's hand went automatically to his hip--"damn, my phone! I must have left it upstairs."

"He said he'll be home soon, tonight in fact," she smiled as his face brightened, she knew how much he missed Clark. "And Bruce called, he left a message."

Lex's eyes widened and for a moment he said nothing, before asking, "Bruce...are you sure?"

Yes, very sure," she smiled. "He said to tell you that he's belling the cat and he'd talk to you later."

Lex's head tilted, he frowned for a moment and then he smiled, a bright, wide, almost Clark-like smile. "Martha--this is going to be a good day."

"Yes dear. Here." She handed him a basket of neatly folded linen. "Here are your sheets and towels, tell Clark that he's not to leave the towels on the floor in the bathroom."

Lex turned pink and Martha felt a wicked desire to see how hard she could make him blush. "Or on his bedroom floor. I wouldn't want you to trip over a towel in the dark."

He turned bright red and tried to leave as quickly as he could.

As soon as he was up the stairs, her spark of good humor faded and she felt a chill. She was still standing in the kitchen, arms crossed tightly over her chest when Jonathan came in through the back door. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around hers, leaned his chin on the top of her head. She smiled, and then sighed.

"Okay, what's wrong?" he asked. "What did he do?"

"Lex went to see Lucas this afternoon--"

"He what!"

"I know, he seems to be...certain that Lucas won't be a problem now."

"What, he talked to him and all is forgiven? Why'd you let him leave...I never said that," he corrected himself hastily. "But he's sure that Lucas means to back off of him and...Clark?"

Martha walked to the oven, grabbed an oven mitt and pulled the door open. "Lucas convinced Lex that everything would be fine now, yes."

Jonathan leaned over her and sniffed. "Mmm. Meatloaf. I take it you don't agree?"

"Sweetheart, would you?"

Jonathan shook his head. "No. But Lex, he just wants to believe so hard. Poor kid. He really wants it to be, doesn't he?"

"I don't think he ever got over losing his dad like that. It's a shame. Lucas took advantage of the whole situation," she mused.

"How do you mean?"

"Oh--oh, I mean, I think he kind of squeezed Lex out of the business...his inheritance..."

Jonathan made a dismissive gesture and got out of Martha's way. "Never hurt him--he doesn't need all that crap. Under the skin, he's like us, he knows what's really important in life. He'll do fine without it. Besides, he's got Clark."

"Jonathan! How romantic of you!" Martha grinned at him as she set the meatloaf on the counter,

"Oh, for--I didn't mean it like that woman, for heavens sake." He blushed dark red and Martha snorted. "Even though it's true," he muttered and she beamed at him.

Other dreams haunted him, pricked him. Lucas dreamt he was in the helicopter again with Lex and Dad, and Lex kissed him and told him to be brave, told him how much he loved him. He remembered that love. It filled him and made him warm, made him want to be just Lucas, Lex's brother.

Sometimes he'd dream one of a thousand variations of the time on the Bridge--standing there arm and arm with Lex, they'd watch as Clark sank and drowned in the green-gray water of the river. Lex always turned to him and smiled. `Well that's done, then,' and he'd kiss him so deep his heart would swell with joy, always right before he woke.

Sometimes, his mother came and berated him, tore into him about how he'd wasted Lex's life and his own and she wished he'd died...sometimes his dad came to him, covered in so much blood, saying `You killed me for nothing, for nothing'. He'd wake from those dreams dry-eyed and furious and wanting desperately to hurt someone, something. Those were the dreams that gave him purpose and the will to go on, the drive to keep going. To conquer.

Even as success mounted with his Project, others began to fail. He was taking more and more hits in his black business deals, Superman was killing him, strangling off his business slowly--the bastard was getting pleasure from it, he was sure. This was new--no smash and grab, no setting journalists on him; this was a deliberate systematic attempt to drive him insane.

"If the Freak's trying to drive me nuts, the joke's on him," he muttered, as he flipped through reports detailing the latest disaster, presented to him neat and tidy and it hardly seemed right that it was so orderly, so clean. It galled him how the perception of Lucas Luthor was shifting from the strong, ruthless and hard to beat ruler of LuthorCorp, to a weak link, ready to be broken. Talk was coming back to him, ridiculous assertions that he could barely hold on to what he had, that someone was bent on taking him down...now here he was, wasting money and manpower defending his position, when he should be concentrating on destroying the Freak and taking back what was his, damn it.

He threw the files on the table and shoved back his glass. He dropped his head between his hands and dug his fingers hard into his scalp, pressing and kneading, trying to ease the tight throbbing right under his scalp. It was falling apart. Everything he'd worked for, everything he'd done to protect Lex was turning upside down. His legit businesses were suffering as well. Between Lex's rumored suicide attempts, and Wayne Enterprise's attacks on Luthor Corp, things were imploding. Wayne Industries had cut off delivery of orders for raw materials, citing trouble overseas, several other companies with ties to WE also were refusing to deliver. Now the government was beginning to back away from the kryptonite experiments and Lucas knew he'd be left holding the bag, the bastards. It made him furious that he knew who was at fault for all of this and there wasn't a fucking thing he could do about it--yet. That fucking Bruce Wayne was picking his Smallville concern to bits and Lucas knew he was doing it out of jealousy--it had to be. He was destroying the plant's legitimate business, that bitter old asshole, and someone was leaking information to the news that the plant was an ecological disaster, and for that he had Clark to thnk, he was sure.

Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Superman. They were all conspiring to destroy him, out of jealousy and hatred for what he'd achieved. Who else had done so much so young? Fuck Alexander the Great--Lucas Luthor was the real thing.

Lucas swung up from the couch and headed for the door. Time to check on his baby, get a shot. When his baby was ready to be born, he'd show them--he'd show them all. It was the only thought that made him happy any more.

He was sitting in his car, in the far corner of the employee parking lot. Sitting in the dark with only the lights from the dash illuminating the night. His head rolled against the headrest, sweat ran down his face, his chest...he felt like he was about to explode, His heart hammered in his chest, his blood rushed through his veins. His nose dripped, his dick was hard, his mouth felt dry and swollen, the inside of his throat felt dry swollen and too sensitive. He touched his lips and his dick jerked and shot wet into his already damp pants. He squeezed himself and groaned. It felt good--the shots--they made him feel like he was full of light. The cuts on his arm still bled a little. Darrell had told him it was good, just right, that they were ready....

Lucas hissed and rubbed at his arm, the blood was thickening slightly, all the little cuts marching up his arm like a red ladder, Darrell had cut him, carefully, at intervals, and took notes as Lucas came time after time. Each cut made him orgasm, and Darrell took notes and told him it was normal. Just the result of the extract. But he kept doing it, again and again, watching him with shiny eyes and a small smile, until Lucas passed out.

Now here he was in his car, still feeling the hot dry beat in his mouth and dick and throat and ass. He wanted Lex, wanted Harris, Darrell, wanted someone in him, wanted to fuck someone. He shivered and groaned and tried to concentrate on the wheel, tried to turn the key. Drive. Get home. Safe.

There was a tap at his window and he dragged his eyes away from the red and yellow lights of the dash, stared out the window and tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

Harris stood at his window. "Sir. Dr. Haine called. He said to take you home."

Lucas laughed. "God, you're just the man I want to see. Get in here."

Harris shook his head and stepped back. "Come out, please. Get in the car, sir." He pointed at the ugly black limo parked behind him, and Lucas protested.

"No it's slow and ugly and I hate it."

Harris leaned closer. "I'll let you fuck me in the back seat."

Lucas groaned and laughed at once. You don't let me do anything. You don't get to have a choice. He unlocked his door and staggered towards Harris. "Okay, let's get in the car. Let's have fun. Tell the driver to drive around Smallville, I want a tour."

He straddled Harris, his dick in his ass, his tongue was in his mouth and it hurt, hurt so fucking bad. He'd come twice already, dry comes that made him feel like passing out and he still wanted more...he hurt like he'd been scrubbed with steel wool from head to toe, every nerve was a raw line of fire and it was making him ride Harris like he was getting paid for it. He laughed, groaned and cried out. "Ah--fuck--hurts...harder, damn it!" Harris cursed low, rough and yanked Lucas down hard enough to snap his head back, grinding his fingers into his skin and grinding his dick into his ass. He grabbed his shoulders for balance and Lucas' face smashed into his shoulder, his nose exploded in pain, and his overloaded senses read it as pleasure. A white hot ball exploded from inside him, tearing out through his skin--he could feel Harris coming, burning and pulsing inside him and Lucas finally tore apart, ripped down the middle and blew into pieces. He collapsed against Harris, arms around his neck and his face shoved tight into his throat and sobs rocking his body. He felt Harris soften and pull out, and the awkward, hesitant movements of hands on his back. It made him cry harder--it was a nightmare, like every nightmare he'd ever had in his life--the more he tried to gather his splintered control, the more he cried.

"Shhh, shh..." Harris rubbed the shaking back, stroked the head that pressed painfully into his shoulder. He felt hot tears running down his chest, and Lucas' mouth was wet and open against his neck. He was completely undone, unraveled and Harris held him, awkwardly at first and then firmer, tighter, kissing what he could reach. The car drove on through the dark, drove in great loops around Smallville. Harris held the shuddering body crouched in his lap and wondered sadly when Lucas was going to kill him.

Clark came in at twilight, and Lex was waiting for him in the darkened back yard. He watched, rapt, as Clark dropped slowly out of the sky, touching down light as dandelion fluff. The ridiculous cape swirled around his shoulders before settling around his calves and swept little puffs of dust from the gravel walk.

"God," Lex breathed, "Do you have any idea how truly...stupid you look?"

Clark laughed weakly and wiped soot from his face as he leaned against the porch rail with Lex. "Yes, thank you very much, I know...the get-up was Lara's idea. Apparently if by some miracle a Kryptonian drops out of the sky, they'll know immediately that I'm from the house of El and what my status is...was." He gestured at the shield on his chest. "This is the shield of my house..." He blushed. "It's a little bit like the shield of Alexander, too..."

Lex smiled and stroked Clark's arm, ran his fingers around his wrist. "And the undies on the outside?"

Clark nearly pouted. "They are not undies--it's just for contrast, for interest--oh, shut up. They aren't separate, anyway. It's three pieces, plus the belt. The belt's just for...cool. If you have a problem with it, take it up with Mom, she more or less designed it." He grinned for a moment before going on. "At the Fortress, I just trash the old uniforms and Lara produces a new one." His smile dimmed. "Usually, they're really damaged. I--I don't like wearing repaired uniforms." Clark looked sad, guilty, and horribly tired. Lex reached out to hug him.

Clark pushed him back, "Don't touch me Lex, I don't want you to get dirty too," he sighed.

Lex looked at him sympathetically. "Clark, go take a shower, eat, rest. You did everything you could. You're not alone in the world, after all. I mean, there are others out there, other protectors."

Clark nodded and huffed, blowing his bangs up. "I guess I do stink. I need a shower, and some sleep--I need..." He looked at Lex and Lex felt a little shiver run down his spine. Clark didn't look away, didn't blush. He looked, and Lex could feel the want pouring off of Clark.

"Lex, when? When can we--"

Clark, I...I want to. I really do. But..."

Lex, if it's about Bruce--that's over, I swear it. We're partners friends--but we're not lovers, we never were. There's no one else...and you've --" Clark stopped, his face clouded over for a moment. "--well, you. Are." He stopped.

Lex sat on the edge of a step. "Clark. Clark...it's hideous to think that the only two people I've slept with, wanted to sleep with, are the same that you have."

Clark froze, horror making his face a mask.

Lex went on as if he hadn't noticed. "I've fucked a lot of people, mostly because Lucas wanted me to," and he blocked out the small hurt sound Clark made, "But I've only been emotionally involved with Bruce. And Lucas." Clark swallowed and nodded. "Okay, I know that. I do, I know that." He kept nodding, until Lex grabbed his hand and pulled him down next to him on the step.

"I went to see him today."

Clark squeezed his eyes shut, and folded his hands. "Yeah? How'd it go? You okay?"

"Yeah. I think it went well."

Clark looked at him.

"I think that he's finally going to let go. I think he understood, that I'm not under his--his--thrall--anymore," he said and a low laugh broke from him.

Clark sighed. "Lex, Lucas doesn't operate from the same place as normal people. The world looks a lot different to him than it does to us..." He laughed bitterly. "Even to us."

"I know how he thinks--I spent the last seven years learning how he thinks. I know my...my brother."

Clark leaned back against the step and breathed out. For a long moment he said nothing, before getting to his feet and pulling Lex up. "Let's go in, let me get cleaned up."

They got up and walked into the dark farmhouse.

"By the way Clark, your mother thinks we're sleeping together."

"Geez--why--she thinks--"

"She thinks we sneak into each other's room. It's kind of cute really. Like we're kids."

Clark looked at him. "We should have those memories. It should have been you and me. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

Lex nodded. "Clark...we'll make new memories. We'll start over."

"Someday," Clark breathed. "When you're ready, yes. We'll start all over and it will be new. Just you and me."

"Right." Lex tugged on his hand. "Now."

"Now!" Clark gasped. "N-now."

Lex looked at him critically. "Clark, that outfit does little to hide...em--arousal."

Clark crouched a little. "Up until now, I never really had to think about that--Lex, now?"

"Yes Clark, and the sooner you shower, the more now it will be."

Clark stood in steaming water, hotter than any human could take and scrubbed the dirt and guilt off, he scrubbed hard enough to turn his skin pink, red in spots. Finally, he turned down the hot water, and leaned against the wall. Arms spread, legs spread, head hanging under the fixture, letting the lukewarm water soothe him.

"Finally," he heard, and then smooth hands were rubbing his back, circling around to hold him. Lex.

"Hope you don't mind..." He felt a cat-like lick run between his shoulder blades and hands ran up his chest. Twin pinches at his nipples made him gasp.

"Umm, you're very sensitive there..." Lex reached around Clark and shut off the water. Clark protested and Lex stopped him with a kiss. He shook his head, said, "I want it in bed. I want to take my time; I want it to be good."

Clark tried to breathe normally, his dick was hard and swayed with every breath--Lex was scraping his nails from his navel to the base of his dick and it felt wonderful. His breath hitched as Lex scratched harder, his dick spurt a little drop of clear fluid and he groaned.

"Clark, you're so sensitive, so willing. So hot," Lex murmured and bent to lick the tip of his dick. Clark gasped and jerked, bumping the head against Lex's mouth, and he took it in briefly, rolled his tongue around the top and under the rim before letting it escape it with a pop.

"Go on Clark, go get in the bed."

His arm was tucked under his head, he had the bed pillow clutched against his chest. He lay on his side, and he was still thinking about the ride back to the castle. It had been surreal, and after, frightening.

Lucas had left him in the car, without a word, and he'd sat still as he could in the back seat. Waiting. For Lucas to come back and--and shoot him. Something. He figured that he'd want to get rid of him quick. But he sat and waited and waited and Lucas didn't come back, so he went on into the castle, back to his room. He'd fidgeted about, packed his suitcase, spent a little time cleaning the mostly featureless and impersonal bedroom. He felt driven by a need to leave nothing of himself behind. If he had to die, he didn't want bits and pieces of his life blowing around here in Bugfuck, Nowhere.

And now he lay here in the dark and waited some more and felt sad, empty. How had he fucked up so badly? What was the moment in which he'd lost everything--way before this--was it the day Lucas had picked him out of the crowd, "awarded" him this position? He snorted. The worst part of his life was also the best part. When he was with Lucas, it was horrible, and the best it ever was. He sighed, deep, shaky, and a tear leaked out from the side of his eye.

The door creaked, and quiet footsteps stopped at his bedside. Harris closed his eyes and waited.

"Thank you...for tonight."

His heartbeat stuttered, and the bed creaked with added weight. "I came to say thank you for not speaking when I lost control before."

He stretched out, and Harris felt his heat, his skin next to his. Lucas ran a hand up his arm, cupped his face. "Thank you. I have to be so strong all the time, you know? Sometimes it's too much."

Harris licked his dry lips and Lucas leaned in and kissed him, wet and soft, just perfect. His tongue in his mouth was like velvet; it circled the inside of his mouth, pushed and rubbed against his own tongue, filled his mouth with heat, filled his dick with heat. Lucas pulled back, and Harris groaned. "Please," he whispered. Please?* Please kiss me again.* Please make me yours.* Please use me.* Please don't kill me

He felt Lucas smile against his suddenly sensitive skin. His hand slid into his shorts and gripped his already leaking dick. Short, hard strokes had him gasping in seconds. He felt Lucas' lips against his neck, his tongue tracing patterns on his skin as his hand squeezed, flew over him. When Lucas pressed a thumb in his throat he came, quivering, waiting... Lucas squeezed him one last time, wiped his hand on the sheet and got up.

"Go to sleep. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

He left the room and Harris spent the rest of the night breathing, just breathing.

Lucas glared at the finished interface. It gleamed in the low light of the lab; it felt like...it was looking back. Lucas shook himself and grimaced. It did look rather like a metal spine. The wires moved in an unpleasantly aware way when he came closer to it. Darrell ordered him to strip and bent him over the edge of the cross-shaped lab table. He swabbed different areas along his back and poked and pricked him along the length of it. Lucas waited with an edge of impatience for the shot.

"I wonder," Darrell muttered as he slid the needle in, "if the amount of extract in your blood would be enough to cause Superman problems...he might be unable to face you just because of what is in your blood--if you start bleeding, you know..."

Lucas gasped, ground his teeth and waited for the first wave of pain to pass. "Yeah, well, we'll see. Hook that thing up--no more waiting."

Darrell called in his team, and Lucas was stretched out face down on the specially designed table, he was splayed out, arms and legs secured. "So you won't thrash about, it's a little uncomfortable. Our test subjects indicated that removal was much less...uncomfortable."

"Yeah," Lucas rasped. "Did they tell you or did you figure that out in autopsy?"

"Come on now," Darrell huffed. "Would I kill the hand that feeds me?"

Lucas laughed and gasped as the icy cold object was positioned on top of him. He was immobile, and his heart raced, not entirely from fear of the interface, but also from the sensation of being completely helpless...he hated it. He felt a little prick, and another...and another, and another and another, he hissed, grit his teeth, gasped and yelled finally--it felt like he was being stung a million times by psychotic bees. Giant psychotic bees. He couldn't move, couldn't even twitch, but the drug kicked in and he groaned at the double impact of pain and pleasure. "Fuck, Darrell, you bastard...you get off on this don't you," he managed to pant.

Darrell laughed and said, "This costs too much to be about my private pleasure." He leaned close and whispered, "But, yeah, it is kind of hot."

"I'm going to kill you, Darrell," he groaned and Darrell laughed again. Lucas coasted on the warm waves of intense sensation and imagined the look on Darrell's face when he ripped it off. He was going to grind him into a paste; he was going to break every bone in his body.

The cold slither between his shoulders dragged him back from the edge of intense pleasure, reminded him of his purpose here. Arousal seeped away and he gagged. He swore he could feel the thing coiling around his spine, wrapping around his neck and shoulders, hooking around his ribs....

A few minutes passed, and Darrell ran his fingers over a keypad and walked around Lucas as the table tilted forward. He was on his feet, attendants at his side to catch him if he stumbled--the restraints released and he staggered forward. The weight was odd, not really heavy just...weird.

Darrell's assistants led him forward; he took unsteady steps until he got to the suit. The beautiful exoskeleton, the gleaming beautiful armor that he was about to become part of, the machine that would let him kill Superman. They turned him and backed him into it, and the interface connected to the suit. He shook wildly for a moment, his nerves over loaded with input, and then he was out--for a moment, completely out of his body, floating in deep black, blind, deaf, warm...happy....

Acid dripped straight into his spine and brought him back with a shriek. He threw his arms up, and yelled again as they jerked in their sockets--he heard the groan of abused metal, and excited shouting.

"It's okay, Lucas, it's okay!" Darrell was yelling something at him, and waving his arms. His head tracked the movements and he felt like he had a high collar on--the back of the suit. He lowered his arms and got a ghost sensation of lowering his arm again. He moved his leg, same thing--there was a faint echo of the movement. "What..." his voice echoed in his head, unpleasantly loud. He raised his hand to his head and heard a clang, and his head rocked back. He distinctly heard snickers until he swept his head around, looking for the laugher.

"What's going on," Darrell asked eagerly, "what's happening?"

"There's some kind of ...echo effect. I feel my arms and legs moving, but from far away..." He swept his arm slowly and asked, "Why can't I move the rest of me? You fucked something up Darrell--"

"No, no--you're still hooked to the frame, you pulled that arm free. Damn, it's much stronger than I thought it would be." Darrell touched the keypad again and the suit separated from the frame. Lucas took a step forward, prepared to compensate for the extra weight, and he nearly floated. He felt like he was wearing nothing, naked and light as a feather.

"Fucking amazing Darrell, fucking genius."

"Can you see? Are you seeing the lab?" Lucas looked around and realized the view was much more like staring at a simulation.

"Yeah, it looks weird..."

"You're looking at a screen. Your head is enclosed in--"

"Take it off! Take it the fuck off now. I want to see with my own eyes."

"But..."

"Now, God damn it."

Darrell sighed and pressed the keypad again. "Go ahead, I've released it. Just pull it off. But it leaves your head vulnerable, you know--the point of the helmet is to protect all of you, including the slop in your skull you call a brain."

"Fuck you." Lucas pulled off the headpiece and looked down on the scientist and his assistants. "Yeah. That's better." He clenched and flexed his hand and watched as the heavy articulated glove made the same movements--it was his hand, beside the ghost movement, it felt no different.

"So. What happens now?"

"What happens now is we test the hell out of it, and then you take it back off."

After the practice run and recovery period, Lucas headed home, thinking hard. He had one major problem--two major problems. How to get the Freak in position to kill him, and how to get Lex's ass back where it belonged. Shit.

And Harris.

He needed to be dealt with. Lucas snarled and rolled his shoulders. He did not feel guilt, guilt was impossible. Guilt was for weaklings like his dad and like...

You know,* I can imagine you meeting that boy at another time.* It might have worked out.* Just picture it--you and Lex,* double dating with Clark and Alexander...sweet,* don't you think?* Or it would be if you were capable of love.*

"You again. Fuck off! Can't you haunt Lex, for fuck's sake, you crazy old bastard."

Ah-ha.* Crazy?* I'd like to point out that you are the one talking to yourself...you're crying...*

Lucas laughed, and laughed so hard he could barely see the road. He laughed so hard, it made his throat raw. He pressed on the gas pedal, the tires screeched and slid on the gravel road, and he roared toward the castle. He flew over the bridge. Almost home.

Clark sighed and shifted. The warm breath against his belly drifted lower, soft lips pressed small kisses all the way along the dark trail of hair that lead to the thicker hair framing his dick. Lex stroked his fingers through it and whispered, "So soft."

He smiled and let his fingers gently explore Lex's scalp, spread them wide and cradled his head. Lex licked wetter and wetter trails, around his navel, at the base of his dick, until Clark was lifting to meet Lex's kisses. This was every fantasy he'd ever had, the good ones and the bad ones...a little sliver of guilt twisted in him and submerged again...nothing mattered now except that Lex was here with him, silky and hot all over--his hands, his lips, his skin--the touch of his tongue was like liquid fire. Lex was pulling sounds out of him that any other time would have made him blush with embarrassment. Now, it was making him soar, fueling the fire that burned through him. He lifted his head and looked down at Lex and moaned. Lex, Oh god, Lex was touching himself, so hot he couldn't wait...

Clark scrambled upright and before Lex could protest, he flipped him to his back. Lex started to make a joke, but he saw Clark's expression and stopped. He touched his cheek, but Clark barely noticed the feather light touch, so caught up in just...looking, mouth slightly parted, his eyes were dark, and glittered with emotion. He touched Lex's belly, softly drew his fingers upwards, across his ribs, coming to rest over his heart. "So broken. Warped, you and me. I don't think any two people needed each other more."

His fingers spread over Lex's chest, dark against the opal pale skin. He traced the light dusting of tiny freckles across his collarbones and Lex's eyes drifted shut. Clark nodded. He closed his eyes too. It was almost too much to bear. He slid his body down, laid his head on Lex's thigh. He was a breath away from Lex's dick. "You are amazing," he whispered. "I look at you and I feel lost, like I'm falling and falling. Before, I thought I was falling to die, now I feel like if I let go and fall, I'll be...home." He opened his eyes, and his mouth, and Lex slid in over his tongue, so hard, smooth, hot, slid in until he touched the back of Clark's throat.

Hard, hot and slick, Clark sucked up the taste, the feel of weight and heat on his tongue. Lex shivered and drew in a breath that flowed out in a groan--he looked in Clark's eyes, Clark gave him permission. He began thrusting, wilder and harder than he would have done to anyone else...he held fistfuls of Clark's hair and fucked his mouth and Clark hummed his approval, spurred Lex on, because this was the dream come true, finally, together, like it was always supposed to have been. He'd never dreamed of them coming together in any way sweet, soft--he'd imagined Lex taking him, hard, just like this--all he could do was hold on, and hold him-- "Fuck!" Lex tensed all over and thrust one last time. He came without another word, silent, teeth bared, fingers digging deep in his hair, his scalp. He yanked Clark's head down over his dick a last time, and grunted as Clark's throat worked to suck all of his come down. Lex eased up and let him sit up, lick his lips. "Turn over," Clark said hoarsely, "I'm going to fuck you."

Lex looked just the tiniest bit worried--shook his head, "I need to see you. I have to see you."

"Oh, sure, yes, of course..." Clark nodded quickly, and moved back so Lex could arrange himself against the bed. "Yeah, yes, anyway you want. I...I'm glad. I want to see you too." He knew what Lex wasn't saying. He was pretty sure he needed to see Lex's eyes himself. He was certain no ghosts would be joining them in bed, but....

He held Lex's hips up, coaxed him to lock his legs over his arms, sucked and kissed his way downward, smiling against Lex's skin at every gasp, every hitch of breath. He licked at the tightly furled ring between his cheeks, slowly worked his tongue around it until Lex was moaning steadily. He felt it soften and give beneath his lips; he licked and sucked around the tender skin, so thin, and hot with the blood rushing under the surface. Clark let the different textures inform him where to touch, how hard, wanting so much for Lex to enjoy this, but moment by moment, it became his pleasure too, the feel, the scent--knowing it was Lex writhing under him--really, and truly finally his, he was finally Lex's. He added fingers to tongue and pushed in harder, deeper and Lex wailed at the sensation.

Clark stopped, "Am I hurting you?"

"God, no--I need more, I think...I need you." His dick was curved stiffly over his the little swell of his belly and Clark kissed him there, nipped and sucked and reveled in the velvet heat of Lex's dick pressed against his mouth. "You're hard again."

"Oh...you're so...very...perceptive," Lex groaned.

Clark pulled back, "Can I..." He was shivering a little with need to be in Lex, he was so hard, his dick was drooling, he was laying on wet sheets and feeling like he was flying--he checked quickly to make sure he was still on the bed, and grinned at himself.

Lex nodded, Clark pushed the head of his dick into constricting heat, watched himself sink into the tight ring, into Lex... "Fuck..." he sank steadily in, gasped loudly, watching, mouth open, breathing hard, in, hot, tight, and he looked up to see Lex staring at him, eyes wide, all pupil, and his lip was white where it was caught between his teeth. Clark stopped, concerned, stoking Lex's arms. "Does it hurt, should I?--"

Lex laughed breathily. "You can't hurt me, Clark--don't stop. Tell me..."

Clark shuddered. "It's--you're so hot, Lex, so tight, god..." He thrust in, quivering with the stress of trying to be careful, not to hurt him. Lex's face twisted, his eyes were shut so tightly, and he forced them open again. "I love you so much, I always have, I need you so much..."

Lex gasped, tears filling his eyes. "More, Clark, more."

"I love you." He thrust in, and pulled back, Lex flexed, and tightened on him. He threw his head back, and shuddered. Again, again, he could feel orgasm rushing toward him, bearing him up like a wave, no stopping it, his breath caught as it hit him with the force of a punch--he was silent, unable to make a sound, it was that deep, that profound, that world-shattering. He was caught up in the feeling of every nerve firing at once with one message--ecstasy.

The still shattered suddenly and he realized a sound that'd been vibrating just at the edge of awareness was Lex, a wild keening, and felt heat flow over his hand, up his wrist, felt it drop from his fingers...Lex was an arch under him, and he fell back into the world again with a crash. "Lex!"

He'd never felt anything like it--not with Bruce, not with Lucas--never expected to feel it with any faceless stranger, never expected to feel anything like this in his life. Lex lay under him, panting, face wet, flushed from head to toe. Sweat gleamed on his ribs, his legs. His hands twitched, scrabbled across the sheets.

"God, Clark, I want to touch you, but--I can't move...fuck..."

Clark laughed. "It's okay; I don't think I can either." His head hung forward, and drops of sweat dripped down twisted strands of his hair to roll over Lex's chest. "Sorry--I should probably hug you or maybe just move so you can breathe." He grinned, eyes sparkling wickedly, totally unrepentant, and Lex snorted.

"Yes, well, don't worry Clark, we have the rest of our lives for you to get this right."

Clark frowned, "Hey!"

"I'm kidding, Clark, kidding." He reached up and grabbed a handful of his hair and shook--hard. "Don't imagine I've ever had this before. I've never felt like this before. Ever."

Clark blushed, felt his whole body flush. He dropped his head and pressed lips to Lex's. "I know," he murmured. "I know."

Lucas called the housekeeper and told her that Lex and he would be leaving Smallville soon--possibly as soon as the next day or two. He asked her to make arrangements for caretakers to watch over the castle, and told her to prepare severance for the current staff. He told her he wanted whatever staff on the grounds out as soon as possible, and let her handle that matter. He had his own business to handle. He walked the halls and waited for some feeling of nostalgia to prick him--nothing. He went to his dad's study and stared at the spot he knew was still there, the gleaming floorboards bleached and scrubbed and refinished but he knew that there was wood there that had been soaked in the old man's blood. He felt nothing. He probed the memory, gently, delicately--nothing. It didn't even raise the smallest smile.

He walked down the long hallway to the bedrooms, opening the door to his bedroom. He looked around at the Spartan space, the spare furnishing, everything so clean, spotless, shining, and soulless. He took a pillow from the bed and smelled--no scent, of course. Washed out, aired out, any scent of Lex long faded. Nothing. He carefully closed the door and walked further to the last door, went in and sat on Lex's bed. The room could have been a cell for all the meaning it had. He opened the curtains and looked out over the estate, rolling green, the helipad breaking up the lawn...all this he'd reclaimed, with some fuzzy thought in the back of his mind that he'd give it to Lex and that Lex would be grateful for it. He laughed--a sharp bitter bark. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered in the long run, nothing he did. He'd committed every sin that you could, done every horrible soul blasting act one could imagine and here he was, young, fucking beautiful, richer than fuck...he laughed--and about to do much more and much worse and he was pure. Untouched. He was God. He was. And if so, then it was time he remade the world into his image. What the fuck--he had nothing but time. He could feel it--he had an eternity.

He called for a meal to be sent to the entertainment room and settled in to take care of a few loose ends. He called Amanda and told her to work the last plan. He called the office and told them to send a driver and an armored limo, and to expect him back within the day. He arranged to put the Smallville plant on the market, and to transfer the operation there to the labs on the outskirts of Gotham. He hung up and leaned back against the couch, took a deep breath. One last loose end.

A minute. He needed a minute and a drink. Just to organize his thoughts.

The afternoon sun sent long shadows climbing across the pale walls. Through the open window, he watched a hawk riding the air in the distance, and to a city boy like him the flight was fascinating, a thing of beauty. The humid air was just beginning to cool, and a little breeze played with the short curtains at the window. Harris sat at a table there, cleaning his gun. The ritual calmed him, required him to focus his thoughts, and he relaxed a bit. Familiarity, routine...he wiped it down and was about to put it back in its case when the door opened and Lucas walked in. A wave of relief swept him.

Finally.

Lucas stood in the doorway, staring at him with a tight blank expression. Harris lowered his eyes and put his hands on his thighs. Relief was almost painful. He could give up the waiting, at last.

Sound at his bedside made him glance up. Lucas was at the bed, with the same odd expression as hours before, and then, he began to undress, slowly, methodically, neatly folding his clothes and putting them at the end of the bed. Harris watched silently. He could feel the pulse of his blood in his mouth. Lucas gleamed like ivory in the golden light. He looked like a god, otherworldly. Harris glanced at the gun in its case and back at Lucas. He was still waiting, then....

Lucas sat in the only other chair in the room eyes still piercing him and all Harris could do was watch him back. With a faint sigh, Lucas slid forward on the chair, and spread his legs. "Come here." He spread his arms, looked down at himself and they both watched as his dick filled, lifted...he looked at Harris again, and it drew him, like a fish on a hook, when Lucas crooked his fingers Harris shuffled forward and dropped to his knees between Lucas' legs. He pressed dry lips to his hot skin, breathed. The hair tickled his lips and it made his eyes sting. He closed them tight and Lucas put his hands to his head, and he moved to rub against the warm hardness that bounced against his cheek. He breathed deep, relishing the scent. He slid his mouth over Lucas, listened with everything to the sounds--wet suction, breath whistling in his nose, Lucas' small hitch of breath, airy gasp and moan. He heard the slide of skin over skin, the faint rustle of material under Lucas' legs. He opened his senses to it all--the feel of his fingertips on Lucas, his every tiny imperfection, wrinkle, hair, he felt goose bumps rise and his tonguefelt velvet smooth skin roll under it, tasted salt and sweet as it slid into and teased the edges of flesh, parted it and drank--ocean mushrooms chocolate blood, blended and hot and thick, poured into his mouth and into his throat and became a part of him.

When he was finished, he wiped his mouth, and Lucas stood. Sweat gleamed on his chest, his belly, and he looked even more like some mythic creature, otherworldly and wonderful. He made Harris get to his feet, sit in the chair.

The beat of his heart felt powerful, the singing of blood in his veins so strong. His dick throbbed painfully, trapped behind layers of material. He had no idea what would happen next. He glanced at the bed, He opened his mouth to breathe, was surprised by a tremor--fear shook him, desire shook him. Whatever was going to happen next would hurt, he was sure of that at least. His dick jerked.

Lucas' eyes never left him, they bored into him, looking right into his soul. He felt Lucas knew everything about him....

"Alex," he breathed the name out on a breath and Harris looked up at him, in surprise. Lucas stroked his cheek with hot fingertips and Harris closed his eyes. "Alex. I know your name. I know how old you are, your favorite color...your parents names...places you've lived...past lovers..." his voice trailed off and Harris shuddered. The implication that this was some sort of relationship made him feel like he was falling into the sky, when Lucas dropped to his knees and unbuckled, unzipped, opened his pants and freed his dick, he felt like he'd fallen into the sun.

Lucas began to slowly squeeze, and pump his hand over him; he threw his head back and groaned, carelessly, loud, free. Wave after wave flowed over him, he screamed when Lucas' mouth engulfed him and slowly, slowly brought him close, and dropped him back, again and again, it went on and on, lasted forever, he was nearly wild with the need to come and Lucas gave it to him. Let him come. He was taut, shaking and moaning in his own private heaven, his breath loud in his ears, so loud he barely heard the click. He even managed to smile.

Lucas wiped at the gore striping his cheek and chest. He hadn't meant to do that. He'd really meant to shoot him in the eye. He'd meant for him to see it coming, for him to see his face before he died. He'd meant for him to know that he meant nothing, less than nothing.

He realized that he was panting, breathing like a panicked animal. He staggered to his feet and stumbled around the corpse, and walked to the shower. He washed a long time, in water as hot as he could stand, and wiped down the stall after, and threw away the towels. He walked out to the room and dressed as carefully as he'd undressed, his eyes on the corpse the whole time. Taking a life was easy, simple. It was the same every time. Pull the trigger, bang. Dead. It barely bore thinking about. After all in the next few hours he was going to become invincible. He was on the verge of getting everything he ever wanted. Everything.

He walked out of the little room and locked the door behind him. Lex was waiting for him on the stairs when he came out.

Well,* that was really...sick.* Um.* You've got something...* he waved vaguely and made a wiping motion under his chin.

"Blood?" Lucas wiped at it, and Lex looked critically. No. Come. It's gone. They walked on in silence and Lionel said, You can't kill everyone son--well. Shrugged. You can try;* I suppose.* So,* who's first on our list?* Clark?*

"Superman. Get it straight." Lucas was annoyed. The old man never got anything right. "I'm killing Superman, Dad."

Didn't I say that?* his dad asked and then Lex was putting a long elegant finger to his lips and winking as he held open the door to another room. Lucas went into the maid's room, slid a pillow gently out of her sleeping arms, held it over her face, and shot. He winced, that was louder than he expected. Lex winced also, and wiped fastidiously at an invisible spot on the pale gray shirt he wore.

Lucas smiled at him, letting his eyes linger over him. So fucking hot. Lex looked clean--crisp, sharp as a knife, like he should. "Don't be ridiculous," he said aloud, pointing at his shirt. "None of this can touch you."

Oh,* then you know.* He brushed long grizzled hair from his face, and then he was bald, naked, stoned or drunk or....

"Oh for god's sake--knock it off." Lucas rolled his eyes, already headed to the next room and the next shot. "Of course, I know. I'm crazy, not stupid."

His mother walked along his side. You don't have to do this,* darling.*

He stopped, and tears began to run. "I do, I really do have to do this, Mom. It's your fault you know. If we'd stayed with Grandmother, I never would have had to do any of it. Lex and I...it would have been--better." She nodded. You may be right.* Maybe...maybe you should...maybe it would be for the best,* my darling boy.* She looked down at his hand and crooked an eyebrow; so much like Lex it made a smile quiver briefly on his lips. He looked down at the gun in his hand and sighed. She just didn't understand. Being dead hadn't made things any clearer to her.

He walked into the room that was the housekeeper's. She sat up in bed, and opened her mouth; a look of horror bloomed and then the back of her head sprayed the wall behind her.

He got the driver in the hallway that separated the garage from the house proper, and there was no one else. All of them were gone. He looked down at his legs, spattered and striped with blood and considered changing--he didn't want to alarm the people at the lab until it was amusing to do so. He heard a small dry cough and looked. Lionel was sitting on the corpse of the driver. We're burning our bridges rather ferociously behind us,* aren't we?* He looked around and smirked. I don't think we can buy our way out of this one;* police tend to frown on mass murder.*

"What?" Lucas stared at the dead man on the Mexican tiled floor. Should have gone with Italian tiles, he thought, and dropped the gun on the floor. Lex was waiting for him at the front door, a familiar smirk on his face; his long black coat was hanging over his shoulders like a cape.

It's cold outside,* and you still need to bundle up--for a bit at least.* He rubbed long elegant fingers together and Lucas sighed again. So beautiful, so beautiful. He pictured what those fingers could do--what Lex was saying brought him back.

So,* how are you going to kill Clark,* precisely?* He asked with a bright grin and an inquisitive tone. Lucas pushed open the door as he shrugged into his over coat, and reached out for Lex, who shimmered out of his grip like--always. His breath puffed out in thin white clouds, and he said, "Clark? You mean Superman."

That's what I said.* He looked over Lucas' shoulders and said distractedly. I have to go now.*

What? Lucas looked around and wondered why he was standing on the lawn with an over coat on...it wasn't that cold. And what the fuck--why was he out here at the fucking crack of dawn. Where had the night gone? He pulled out his cell and called Darrell. "Ready? I'm coming."

Lex sat in the kitchen with Martha and watched Clark get ready to leave. He was shoving one of those god awful suits and those hideous glasses into a small bag. He murmured, "I suppose the point of your disguise is to dress so hideously that people automatically try to avert their eyes, and thus, never really see your face. Clever. Very Clever."

Clark was in uniform already; he yanked on the back of one of the boots, and muttered, "Shut up."

Lex looked him up and down and was about to make a comment on the costume when he caught Martha's eyes... "At least the uniform is well done. Very effective--bright and...heroic."

Clark mouthed `I love you' when Martha beamed and pinked up. "Well, it was Lara's idea," she said modestly and Lex patted her hand.

"That may be, but it took an artistic eye and a sense of style to pull it all together."

Clark mouthed `blowjob in the barn tonight' over Martha's head, and it was Lex's turn to smile.

Last night had been--unbelievable. In a life so filled with...sensation, he'd never experienced pleasure like that before. Clark had been skilled certainly--a little pang pierced him at the thought of the blushing bumbling boy he'd wanted so very, very much, but skill alone wasn't what had made it so incredible. Love, passion, a desire for Lex to feel the same way, to achieve the same level of ecstasy, and trust--that had made it insanely wonderful. He blushed remembering and Clark must have picked up on what he was feeling because he was blushing too and Martha way smiling and grabbing her cup. "I think I'll look in on the garden--let you two say good-bye."

They didn't even notice that she'd left the kitchen.

"I hope that you enjoyed last night as much as I did," Lex said and Clark looked at him in surprise.

"Couldn't you tell? I seriously thought I was going to die at one point."

Lex laughed and shoed him towards the door. "Go--go, I'll see you tonight. I...I love you."

Clark smiled. "I know. I love you too."

Lex stood on the driveway watching the blue dot disappear into the lighter blue of the sky. For a little time after he was lost to view Lex stood, face upturned. Just...breathing. Feeling lighter than he had in...he laughed. He couldn't remember.

A dry cough behind him brought his attention back to earth; he turned to find Jonathan looking at him.

"You okay, son?"

"Oh yes sir, I am. Very much okay."

Jonathan ducked his head a bit and blushed. "Ah...did you have your coffee yet?" At Lex's negative head shake he said, "Well, come on in, and have a cup with me, I'm feeling like company."

Lex smiled wide, and felt his own face flush. Everything--everything he'd ever wanted was coming true. "I'd be more than glad to do that Jonathan."

Amanda got the call, and went to work. She drove out to the house. She sat at the end of the drive--waiting for the right moment. Jonathan came to get the mail and looked over, raising his eyebrows in surprise. He waved at her, a bright smile crinkling his ice blue eyes. She looked at them, considering. She was pretty sure from this distance she could put a shot through his iris, but...Boss said no terminations. She got out of the truck and said, "Hey, Jonathan. I brought some books Martha wanted--is she home, I'd like to talk to her about the order this week."

He looked up from the pile of mail in his hand with a little frown. "Something wrong?"

"Heck no!" She laughed. "Those brownies flew out of the store--I wanted to ask if she'd mind making double batch for next time. I'm not sure if people are coming to the store for the books or if the goodies are drawing them in."

"Oh!" He smiled proudly. "They were darn good. She's in the kitchen I think, go on in."

"Thanks. Coming in?"

"No, I've got some work in the cow shed to do. You know what they say about farmers work."

"Same thing they say about women's work?" She smiled and headed up to the house, glancing behind her to make sure he was headed away from the house.

Martha and Lex were in the kitchen, she knocked on the door. "Martha--hi, I have your order for you. Well, now, and of course I left it in the car...darn it." She laughed. Martha laughed too.

"I understand completely." Lex was introduced as the son of a family friend. `Nice.' she thought.

Would he mind getting the books from the truck, she asked and Lex politely agreed to get them. Amanda waved good bye to Martha, walked out with Lex, and when they got to the truck, she showed him a gun. "Get in the truck, now, quietly because if you don't they die."

He gaped at her. "What--"

"You know your brother can do it. Get in the truck."

She saw fear, and worry and oddly, a look of relief...did he want to go back to his brother? Because she didn't have to be told that something freaky was going on there...the Boss was the boss but he was a fucking nutcase when it came to this boy. He acted more like a jealous obsessed lover. She grimaced, and when the boy looked up at the sky for some reason, she swung the gun butt against his temple, and he dropped like a fallen tree.

It took her a few minutes to march Martha out to the cow shed where Jonathan was, and to use zip strips to tie them together. She duct taped their mouths and told them to be patient. She leaned over, her hands on her knees. Her back was killing her from dragging those damn farmers into the back of the shed. Swear to god she was getting old..."Boss is coming to get you." She looked sympathetic, eyed them with pity. "Sorry. I was for making it quick. You wouldn't have felt a thing but him...he's pissed. I think about the brother. Sorry."

She leaned back and hissed when her back popped. Damn it. Oh well, she had some aspirin or something in the truck's glove box. She strode out of the shed, closing the door behind her. She checked her watch. She'd make it to the plant well within the time limit the Boss had set for her. She sighed. Days like this, the business kind of wore on her. She was kind of sad that she'd have to leave the store too. Couldn't stay in Smallville after this, even the hick cops out here had to be able to put two and two together, connect dead Kents and her...really sucked, she liked being a book store owner. She threw the truck into gear. Yeah, this was definitely her last job, after this, she was going to retire and buy a bookstore for real....

Lex groaned...Clark was on his way, he had to have heard him scream when the woman shoved him into the truck--no--he hadn't screamed, hadn't had a chance, as soon as he'd slid onto the truck seat, everything had gone black...

"Baby, you're okay, you can open your eyes now."

Lex woke out of the dark, warm hands cradled his face gently, soft lips brushed his forehead, his mouth--I love you Clark he tried to say but his mouth wouldn't work properly...it was cold under him, hard...his hands slid about--he was on tile...

It got brighter; a bluish light barely lit the large room he was in.

He opened his eyes fully and Lucas was looking at him. For a moment he thought he was back in the bathroom at the castle, and that Lucas had pulled him out of the water....

He was dressed in Clark's clothes, jeans rumpled and dirty at the knees like he'd been dragged, his head hurt, it felt huge and stuffy...and Lucas was grinning down at him.

"You--you kidnapped me!" Lex felt outrage more than fear. "How dare you!"

"'How dare you'," Lucas mimicked viciously, his voice high and petulant. "How dare you, shit. I didn't kidnap you, you're mine. You belong here. And in a little bit, Superman will come roaring in to save you, and me--I'm gonna smash him like a fucking bug. I've been getting ready for him, baby. I'll make sure he'll never bother us again."

Lex moved back away from Lucas, shivering. He was completely insane, completely if he thought that he could kill Superman.

Lucas shuddered and gasped. Sweat ran down his cheeks, down his bare chest. He was nude, except for a pair of sweat dampened boxers that hid nothing, he was half-hard and...Lex looked away. Lucas suddenly moaned and clenched his teeth, and Lex couldn't help but watch, riveted by the bizarre sight...he felt sick, chilled as Lucas almost howled in pain, his back arched, and purple veins swelled and crawled over his skin. He gasped, and the arch of his back relaxed, he groaned, panted as his body sagged. He made an impatient motion to someone out of Lex's eyesight. "Let's get this shit started," he growled.

Lex turned, saw figures moving about in the dim light. Sitting in one corner he made out the bookstore owner...whatever the fuck she really was. She looked so average--mild-mannered, graying hair. She looked around with every appearance of boredom--Lex had the feeling she was checking for exits.

A young guy came up behind Lucas, a white lab coat hanging from his lanky frame. He did something to Lucas that made his lips draw back from his teeth in a pained snarl. "Fuck, take it easy. You sadistic bastard." Lex heard the guy chuckle...it sounded intimate, it sounded like someone who thought he was safe. Fool, Lex thought.

"Ready," the tech said, and when Lucas turned away from Lex, he saw his back was covered with some sort of metal framework, wires dangled from it, some caught up in the tech's fist. Lex startled, hissed in surprise--some of the wires were crawling over Lucas' back, like thin worms. As Lex looked on in horror, some writhed, burrowed under the skin. Thin, thin streams of blood ran down his back.

Lucas and his little group walked over to what looked like a sci-fi suit of armor hanging in a framework and like a knight, was helped into it. The bottom half of the suit cracked open at the waist and he stepped into it. The top half opened like a clamshell and dropped over his shoulders. When it closed around him, the only bare skin showing was his face and neck...it looked ridiculously like a Japanese cartoon, except that Lucas was obviously in a great deal of pain. His face twisted in a spasm of agony, he hissed and cursed under his breath, and then the look of agony smoothed away, he smiled at Lex. "Cool, hunh?"

Lucas let the armor be released from the stand and walked over to Lex. As he moved, light shifted over the purple and green surface, it shimmered, gleamed like sunlight on an oil slick. "It's going to get interesting, big brother..." he cocked his head, smirking at Lex. The suit whirred softly as Lucas knelt next to him, so impossibly grateful for as bulky as it looked. "I know the freak can't resist. He's going to come for you and when he does, I'm ripping him into tiny bits." His eyes closed for a second and then he smiled. A gauntlet, twice the size of Lucas' hand, reached out and stroked his face, so tenderly Lex was startled, having expected chill metal...and pain.

"Anyway," Lucas said as he moved away, light and soundlessly as a feather. "I've realized that I've been going about this all wrong. The way to keep you with me is to keep you happy, and that's what I plan to do. I'm going to help you see that what you want is what I want. Darrell?"

The skinny guy in the lab coat approached, his expression full of curiosity. He held up a syringe filled with neon green fluid, and Lex tried to jerk away, but he was blocked by a couple of Lucas' security goons. Kryptonite, or something containing it...what was Lucas trying to do to him?

"Lucas wants you to have a little fun." The guy leaned forward, and Lex read his tag, so he was Doctor what-ever, not just one of the techs. He grinned at Lex. "I'm the one who helped bring your little brother's dream to life. He dreams big, doesn't he?" He leaned in closer. "Lucas says this is a present just for you. Now don't worry, I prepared this myself, and believe me, you're going to love it," he said, and Lex was suddenly pinned, his arms stretched wide. One of the men ripped Lex's sleeve open and Darrell punched the needle in--a sharp jab of pain exploded in the crook of his arm. Lex's head jerked back, and he yelled in surprise--the pain was shooting up his arm, spreading out like waves of fire. Lucas was behind him, cradling his head and making soothing noises--he heard a dry cough at his side, and Amanda was in his line of sight. Her face looked smooth, unconcerned, but there was something in her eyes. She said. "Excuse me, is there any reason I need to stay?"

Lucas turned to face her-- "I guess not," he lifted a huge articulated hand, "none that I can see..." He swung his hand and Amanda flew towards the wall, hit it with a crack and slid to the floor.

The group of techs and guards paled, looked at each other uneasily, except for the Darrell...he seemed to have no sense of self preservation, Lex thought, either he was that clueless, or that mistakenly sure about himself. He knew, he saw it in Lucas' eyes; he was going to kill everyone in the room when he was done. There was no Lucas left there, just a driven monster. Someone who was going to chew him up alive. He'd lost. Clark had lost.

Lucas moved back toward the armor frame, saying something to Darrell, and Lex's eyes slid over to where Amanda lie against the wall, a thin trickle of blood coming from her nose, she was still...he saw something else, something under her hip...a gun. He tried to surreptitiously move back towards her, but the small movement turned Lucas' attention back to him and at the same moment, his world flipped. Pain suddenly roared through him, crashing over him like a tidal wave, for one split second it was the worst pain he'd ever experienced in his life--he was opening his mouth to scream but what came out of his mouth was a moan--and now it was the most amazing pleasure, wave after wave of euphoria swept him. His head dropped back and he vaguely felt himself being lowered to the floor...why had he ever tried to chase this feeling away, why had he refused it...it was...incredible, it was wonderful, beautiful...he was floating in his own skull, his back arched off the floor as a wave of pleasure so intense it was better than athousand orgasms hit him, he giggled, groaned....

Lucas hung over him, his eyes bright, glassy, he was grinning. "Good hunh? Remember how it was in the beginning? So good..." He stroked Lex's bare arm, ran metal fingers over him and it was as delicate as a kitten's paw. "That was a quarter of the dose I get. The full dose--fuck. You could die and it'd take you a week to notice...now that you're back with me, you can have it any time you want, I'll never make that mistake again...I'll be better this time," and his voice rose, became higher, lighter, "I'll take good care of you. I won't let you get sick again, I promise. I love you."

Fabric tore as Clark's jeans gave way. Part of Lex knew Lucas was ripping the denim like it was Kleenex and he should be terrified--he struggled a bit, tried to swim back to reality--but part of him just didn't care, it felt so good, so good to be disconnected, not to worry, just float. He couldn't feel his body; he barely cared about this person in front of him, about anyone but himself and how good he felt, how hot his dick was...there was a touch--light, but it felt like a shockwave shooting up his dick and he reached up off the floor, past being able to speak or make any sound at all, the touch traveled down over his balls and he grit his teeth and sobbed, it was...he tried to spread his legs wider, he arched and his body begged, his mind skittered, looking for the dark and something warm, blunt and smooth touched him, nudged inside and his paralysis broke, his voice erupted from his throat in a scream....

He felt like he came for an eternity, shock after shock hit him, his muscles trembled and locked, trembled and locked...his dick throbbed and pulsed for what seemed like hours, he could hear himself sobbing in lung-fulls of air... "It can be like that all the time, you know. Just you and me, and this. I'll kill him and you'll finally see. It'll be the way it should have been from the beginning. You should never have needed anyone else. I killed Dad for you, and--and I'll kill Superman for you..." Lucas was talking almost to himself, gazing at the come sliding off the tips of the gauntlet, smeared across Lex's chest and thighs. He tilted his head upwards, looked toward the ceiling. "Hear that?" He laughed lightly and looked back at Lex. "I think your friend is at the door..."

The ground rumbled, and bucked, shelves tipped their contents to the floor. Tile pinged and cracked...the men weren't uneasy anymore--they were panicked. "What the hell was that? An earthquake?" one of them said. A long crack snaked down one wall. The armor's framework shimmied, tried to dance across the floor.

Lex groaned, he was so fucked up; he wanted to move, get under the table, get...out from the middle of the fucking floor before he died. The building shook, plaster dust drifted to the floor...they could hear concrete cracking, metal shrieking. The men panicked, broke for the exit and Lucas sped towards them. The impact of the armor's metal soles splintering the industrial tiles drowned out the noise of the building apparently disintegrating floors above them. Lucas reached the exit first, and grabbed the first man in front of him and ripped him in two. It was quick, horribly bloody and horribly quick--Lucas tossed him aside like used Kleenex. The other men froze--unable to process what they'd seen. Lucas reached out and crushed the skull of one of the guards and Darrell stood in front of him screaming stop stop, and Lucas rounded on him.

Darrell had a moment to reflect on the monumental stupidity of calling Lucas' attention to him.

"Heeey, Darrell...remember that night you thought it was funny to make me come `til I passed out? Remember that? Cut cut cut..." he made a scissoring motion, and Darrell paled, moved back. "Well guess what? It's my turn to laugh." He made the scissor motion again and Darrell bolted for the far exit.

Lucas was waiting for him, leaning against the door's frame.

"I used to think I'd take a long time doing it--" At Darrell's horrified look he said, "Oh yeah, I've been thinking about it for a while, ever since you suggested using my brother as a guinea pig, actually. My Lex. You must be insane."

He reached out slowly, and Darrell stood trembling like a rabbit in front of a fox, tears running down his face. "But we...you and I...I thought...."

Lex cradled his head between his massive hands. "Unh-unh. Only Lex gets forgiveness. You just get three strikes. You're done."

Darrell screamed. "Two! You only said two! Cutting you--your brother--" He lost the ability to speak, to think, to breathe...Lucas shook his hands and the gore flew and splattered the floor in front of Lex. Lex gasped and scrabbled away from the mess, swallowing and swallowing. "Lucas, Lucas..." he groaned.

Lucas spoke; Lex thought he was talking to him but he was looking at the shattered remnants of Darrell. "Shit, you're right--I miscounted. Sorry about that." He turned to Lex. "Don't worry, all his work is on file, I can take care of you."

They were alone, Lucas, himself...the dead men. The doors hung open, the other techs and guards gone. Lex could hear alarms going off above them, evacuation instructions blared over loudspeakers... "Lucas, stop now, and maybe you'll have a chance--we could go away, someplace no one knows us."

Lucas shook his head. "We don't need to hide. We're special, we're different. The normal rules don't apply to us, you understand? We're above the law, you know--we are the law. The new law, the only one the world needs."

The ceiling exploded downward and Superman was standing in a circle of pulverized concrete and steel. He'd hit the floor so hard, Lex could still feel the vibrations--cracks radiated outward from where he stood--and he was furious.

"You--you bastard, I should kill you. Going after me is one thing, but my parents--no one touches my parents."

"Well, fuck, it wasn't like they were dead--yet."

Clark jerked back, staring at Lucas and Lex made a noise, and that was when Clark saw him... "Lex--" sitting half naked in a puddle of blood. He raced to Lex's side, and wrapped his arms around him--"What did you do...you fucking--"

"Take your hands off him, you--you fucking freak son-of-a-bitch!"

Superman roared, his eyes flashing with anger, red and intense and the air in front of them wavered, danced...he flew at Lucas and Lucas rushed to meet him and they crashed together in the center of the room.

Lex dove towards the wall and Amanda's body. He grabbed her gun, and held it, pointed it--and laughed. What the fuck? They were both fucking invincible. The gun dropped into his lap. His only chance was to get a head shot, and Lucas was moving as fast as Clark was. He pictured himself drawing on Lucas and his stomach flipped....

Clark was pounding Lucas, but each punch was costing him, and every time he hit, the blow was weaker and weaker. Lex could see pain making his face gray, thin black lines were snaking over his skin--

He was rocking Lucas back, but every contact Lucas made, sent blood flying--Clark's blood. Lucas cursed steadily, every impact slammed a grunt out of him, and he hit and hit. They were grappling and sliding in a pool of blood, their's and the dead techs--Clark slipped, dropped to one knee and Lucas grabbed him by the arm and whirled him around and around like a kid swinging a toy--with a yell he let Clark go and he smashed into the wall, inside the wall....

Lucas laughed, whooped--"This is fucking fantastic! Fuck me, I love the hell out of it! How does it feel, Freak? Come on Superman, come get me."

Clark dragged himself partway out of the hole in the wall and collapsed. Lex choked, staggered to his feet, he was so frightened for Clark--his face looked like hamburger, his lip was ripped down the middle and ropes of bloody saliva drooled down his chin. One eye was a violent purple, puffed and swollen shut, he was so smeared with blood it was impossible to tell where it came from...

Lucas had a single bruise across one cheekbone, blood in the corner of his mouth, but he was almost unharmed, he was grinning with a manic euphoria. He grabbed Clark's arm and yanked him from the hole, threw him skidding across the floor and through the remains of the guard Lucas had ripped in half, and Clark shouted in disgust. Lucas leaped up into the air, so high he just missed slamming into the ceiling and landed on Clark with a gleeful yell. Lex heard something break, heard Clark cry out....

The Kryptonite in the suit was killing Clark--Lucas was killing him, punch by punch, bit by bit.

"Clark! Get up Clark!" Lex screamed.

Lucas whipped his head about, glared at Lex, "What? The fuck are you talking about? Where?"

Clark groaned, "Run Lex, run to Bruce..." coughed up a thick wad of foamy saliva and blood, and Lucas kicked him in the shoulder. He shuddered as it broke and rolled to his back, staring blearily up at the purple and green figure towering over him.

"The fuck..." he reached down and picked Clark up by his throat. "Well god damn it. He's right. How the fuck did I not know that before. I never recognized you--I fucked you stupid a million times and I never recognized you in the damn suit..." He laughed loud and dropped Clark to the floor and stared down at him. He turned and cracked a piece of the armor's frame away. He stood over Clark... "Hey, Smallville, how about one last fuck, for old time's sake, hunh?" He tossed the pipe from hand to hand. "Yeah, sounds good." He reached down and ripped the belt away, prepared to ripped the tights down, and Lex screamed.

"LUCAS!"

Lucas turned, a look of annoyed exasperation on his face. "God damn it babe, can't you see I'm busy? What the fuck--"

Lex was pointing a gun at Lucas. The barrel dipped and wavered, he was biting down on his lip so hard, a thin rill of blood ran over his chin. He blinked hard, trying to clear tears from his eyes. "Stop, please."

"Oh man," Lucas' face crumbled, his chin shook, "Oh man, you'd shoot me? For Clark? Me, your brother?" His eyes suddenly went ice cold and flat as a snake's. "Go ahead; you'll never hit the target. I'm faster than the fucking bullet; I'm faster than your colorblind boyfriend here. Fuck, the bullet'll damage him more than me. Darrell was right; the kryptonite in the armor is fucking him up."

Lex glanced down and saw that Clark was...he was dying. He gasped, and Lucas took a step towards him. Lex pointed the gun under his own chin. "You win. Clark's dying. Stop or I'll kill myself."

"What?" Lucas laughed, "You're not going to shoot yourself," but he looked unsure.

Lex's hand trembled but he cocked the hammer back, said, "It's going to happen eventually--this way's cleaner. I'll kill myself unless you let him go--."

"No!" Lucas screamed. "Me, me, me--you love me--you need me."

Lex closed his eyes, swallowed and angled the gun in deeper under his chin, preparing himself--don't die Clark,* please don'*t die He heard Lucas say "Okay, wait, please, please, wait..."

He was in front of Lex. "Lex, please, I promise, I swear on my love for you, I won't hurt you. Please don't. Just don't--shoot. Okay?" His voice was quiet, gentle. "Hey, hey, remember when Dad brought us here for the first time, and I was so scared, and you were so brave? You were always so brave..."

Lex could see it, see Lucas' face so tight with fear, his hand clinging to Lex's...Lucas closed his eyes and leaned hard against him. Lex tightened his arms around him and closed his own eyes. He could feel Lucas' heart beating rabbit fast, so hard he could feel it against his own ribs. Lucas's hands wrapped themselves tight in Lex's t-shirt and he could hear him whimpering faintly.

Lex jumped--the memory had been so strong, it was like he was there again...he heard the little voice calling his name...he opened his eyes and Lucas was staring into them. "Did you love me a little bit?" Tears spilled from his glazed eyes. "A little, ever?"

"I love you right now," Lex said. "I'll always love you. Forever, no matter what..." Lucas' eyes closed, and Lex could see Clark getting stiffly to his feet, able to recover somewhat with distance from Lucas. He picked up the broken pipe, held it like a bat. His eyes were locked on Lucas and he drew back, pipe over his shoulder and ready to swing...Lex caught his eyes and mouthed, `No--please'...Clark dropped his arms...

"Take me out of this Lex," Lucas whispered and Lex reached up to undo the clasps that locked Lucas into the suit. Lucas lifted a bloody gauntlet and stopped Lex's hand. "Help me, Lex; take me out of this, please. Take me out." He sighed and shuddered and lifted his mouth to Lex. "Please."

Lex was conscious of Clark staring as he pressed his mouth against Lucas'. Lucas' lips were dry, his chapped skin scraped against Lex's, his tongue was bitter against his. Lex parted his lips and let Lucas draw his tongue in and suck--gently, softly--he let go slowly, and sighed. Lex felt him say his name against his mouth. He licked his lips and when he knew he could speak in a steady voice, he stroked Lucas' cheek, said, "Keep your eyes closed, honey."

"Okay." Lucas shuddered again. "I'm cold."

Lex kissed him again. "I know, I know. Shhh. Can you put your arms around me, honey?"

Lucas nodded, closed his eyes and looped his arms around Lex's waist. Lex said "I love you so much," and Lucas smiled. "I belong to you," Lex whispered in his ear.

"I know," he said, and Lex shot him.

Clark shouted, "Lex! No!"

Lucas dropped to the floor and Lex fell to his knees beside him. He dropped the gun, and stared at Clark. "Oh God, help me, I killed him."

Lex and Clark sat on the field a mile or so from the plant, and watched it burn.

"I'm sorry we couldn't have saved the plant, maybe done what my dad wanted to do, revitalize Smallville." Clark shook his head. "They got along without it for all those years. Smallville will survive." He turned to look at Lex. How about you? How are you?"

There were still traces of dried blood caught in the creases of his skin; Clark didn't tell him. "I'm fine. I'll be okay." He stared at the ground, and wiped again at his face. "I don't know...I don't know why I can't stop crying. He ruined my life. He would have killed...everyone. He would have killed you."

Clark touched his hand. "You'll have help. All the help you need."

They could hear sirens in the background, and Clark tried to lift Lex, "We have to go..."

Lex shook his head hard. "No. I can't. I have to watch...I have to be here for him." Tears ran down his face. "Why? Why couldn't we have just been happy? Why couldn't it have been..." he sobbed. "I can't help but feel it's my fault. That I did it to him."

Clark wrapped Lex in his arms. "You didn't. You did the best you could. You tried to save him. You did at the end."

Lex sat in the egg chair and stared at the wall of screens...watching the world. His headset pinged and Bruce's `working' voice came through. It was deep flat, emotionless, all business. He said, "Tell him we're heading back to Gotham. Metropolis is quiet. We'll expect to hear from him later."

"Thanks Batman, he'll appreciate you keeping an eye out on his city. Tell Robin I said hello."

"That's part of our job, Luthor."

"Right." Lex said and disconnected. They didn't have to like each other; they just had to work together. At least Dick was easy to work with....maybe some day he'd help Bruce get the stick out of his ass. He used to be such...fun. He leaned back and sighed, rubbing his eyes. That wasn't something he liked to think about, because it led elsewhere, and these days, he worked hard to keep his thoughts in the here and now....

He watched the monitor, ran through the different feeds the AI was coordinating for him. Superman was leaving Ecuador now...Flash should have left with him, he was overdue to check in...he flicked a message to him and reminded the AI to alert him if he didn't check in in an hour at the least.

His life, Clark's life, changed dramatically when the meta-humans made themselves known. Who knew that at the time Clark was beginning to defend Metropolis--the world--in Keystone City a guy named Jay Garrick was doing his best to help? And in Star City it was Ollie Queen, and in Coast City, Alan Scot...and Gotham of course...from the beginning it had been Gotham, and Bruce....

"Lex, lunch time," a soft voice broke into his thoughts. "Kal-el is on his way back. You should eat together."

Lex automatically checked the board and yes, there he was, just crossing over the east coast, on his way home. Lex stood, yawned wide and stretched. He dropped the headset onto his chair and turned in the general direction Lara's voice came from. He never got used to just--speaking into the air like Clark did. "All right, I've got enough time to get ready for him. Can you take the boards? And route everything not a major emergency to one of the other Justice Society members, okay?"

"Of course," the voice said, with an air of offended pride.

"Sorry, sorry, of course you knew that." He grinned and glanced back at the screen, Superman was just passing the former LuthorCorp tower, now bearing the huge WE of Wayne Enterprises...he better hurry, Clark would be home shortly. He'd pass the tower, loop around it--his signal--and head home to the Arctic--home to him....

When Clark came in, Lex was already in the shower, waiting with a smile.

He pressed the spot that made the suit fall into dust, and stepped under the warm spray. "Lex. I've been thinking about this all day," he breathed. Lex stepped closer and his hands circled Clark, teasing him, teasing his foreskin, tickling his balls...his fingers danced over Clark's hip, urging him closer. Clark melted into him gratefully, letting Lex take charge. "Turn around Clark and lift your arms." Clark obeyed without a sound, and Lex dribbled shower gel over his shoulders, his back...

Clark dipped his head and let Lex work hard at his neck and shoulders, easing the taut muscle. He sighed, and Lex waited, silently massaging Clark, working soap into his skin, his hair...after a long moment, Clark began to talk, let out what he was holding in. "That volcano...that was...rough. I managed to divert the flow at least, and sucked the gases and ash away...I hope I didn't do too much damage trying to save people." A bitter lesson to learn--sometimes, you had to let nature have its way, and only minimize loss of life...Clark could never really understand that.

Lex scrubbed harder. "I can tell it was bad, you have ash everywhere..." he washed lower, grazing over the cleft of Clark's ass. "Ash everywhere, what in the world--how did you get so much under the suit? Isn't it sealed?"

Clark sighed, "That's how bad it was, cinders and ash and fire everywhere. Flash is still there, speeding in supplies. I felt bad leaving him there..."

"Backup's on its way. Even Superman needs to take a break. And he needs to spend a little time with his husband or his husband gets cranky and sarcastic."

"I thought cranky and sarcastic was my husband's normal state..." Clark's shoulders shook a little, and Lex smiled. It always felt good to make Clark laugh. He washed lower and lower until he wasn't even pretending to wash and was squeezing and stroking Clark's ass. When Clark started to breathe heavier, and push against his hand, Lex spread him and rubbed his thumb over the little whorl of muscle, sighed as it softened, and opened, and he pushed inside.

"Aahh, Lex, Lex...still makes me so hard when you do that."

"Mmm, me too. Spread your legs, Clark." Lex murmured against Clark's shoulder, working his thumb, and then fingers into Clark. He pushed in, stroking, searching--when Clark's knees shook and he groaned low and long, Lex chuckled deep in his throat. He stepped between Clark's wide spread legs. "This is going to be fast, I've been waiting too long." He grunted and thrust inside of Clark quick and hard, knowing that he'd hurt himself before he'd hurt Clark.

"Oh, oh--you're so hot inside. I love being in you." He pushed hard against Clark. "I love it as much as I love you in me."

Clark nodded, biting his lip and just holding himself against wall, feeling Lex pound into him, hard, fast--Lex was letting him know that he was his. Knew what he needed, how to take him out of his skin and out of his mind and just feel, and it was better than anything Bruce ever did for him...better than...anyone.

Lex's hardness spread him, pushed into him, released a streak of electricity when he nudged that spot, the one that made him gulp, and shiver...Lex attacked him like it was his business to make him scream and Clark promised himself this time, Lex wouldn't win--right up until the moment Lex pressed his ass cheeks wide and sunk deeper, rocking up into him, deep--he grabbed his dick and jerked him hard and fast--"Tell me," he growled, biting at his throat like he could hurt him, "Tell me--now!"

"I'm coming, god, Lex, I'm coming, coming--" each spurt made his hips jerk, his hands stutter over the tile, he howled...when he felt Lex come hot and deep inside of him it wrung another explosion from him and this time he shook silently as he came with Lex....

In the apartment Lara made for them, Clark lay spread across the bed, warm, loose-limbed...he was wrapped in Lex, covered in the scent of Lex, listening to the sound of Lex...every time after, every single time he thought, I could have had this all along but I threw it away....

"Clark. Stop." Lex kissed him and fell to his back, his eyes blue in the dim light, his skin ivory and perfect...Clark swallowed. That he was allowed to see this, to be with him.... "Do you think of him? Do you wish it had been different?"

Lex sighed and carded his fingers gently through Clark's hair. When he spoke, his voice was so low, so soft, as if afraid to speak his thoughts aloud... "Whenever we lose someone, when ever a mission goes wrong and it shouldn't have, I think of him. Do I wish it had been different? Of course. I loved him--would have loved him..." Clark bit the inside of his cheek and closed his eyes, waited for the single sharp stab he felt under his ribcage to fade ".... the way he wanted." Lex rose up on an elbow and cupped Clark's face. "But I met you. And once I saw you, I knew there could never be anyone else but you. And...there never was."

Clark said, "I think...I think somewhere Lucas is finally clear, and he loves you the way he should have. I hope so, anyway." Lex nodded and Clark said "What's different--what's important now is that we'll never be alone, ever..."

"Oh yes," Lex breathed and lowered his head to Clark's, lips met in a whisper of a kiss. He pressed down, a promise of more to come, with his tongue begged for Clark's lips to part. He slid the tip into the slick hot inside of Clark's mouth and rode on the familiar rush of love, desire, joy--magic... "I belong to you."

Fin
4-07-2007