Lex liked to think that he was untouchable.

All his life, he'd forced himself to be that way, because anything less wouldn't have been acceptable. He was a Luthor--nothing else was tolerated and, until he'd learned how to keep himself above others, he'd been easy prey, not only for outside threats but also from his own family. Lessons learned at the hands of his father were often quick and very, very effective.

That one had been.

Lex was beginning to think that no one was completely untouchable--there were too many possible inlets to the heart for that--but at the very least, he wanted to believe that he could actively fight back against anything. When he wanted to win, he didn't allow himself to lose. If he wanted something, he got it. Any order that he issued, it was followed to completion.

And when he wanted things to stay buried, they remained six feet under.

But, as Lex stared at the pictures on his desk, it seemed as though someone had finally found a way to get to him.

Admittedly, one could argue that this was his own fault. From an early age, he'd been taught to cover his tracks and watch his back, and that was something that he certainly hadn't done--not in this situation. Having a liaison with a high school boy hadn't been the smartest thing to begin with, and he certainly should have destroyed the pictures once they'd parted ways.

Lex hadn't been able to do that.

Even after Clark had walked out on their friendship and had labeled him as past redemption, Lex had still kept the pictures. He'd known that their relationship was over, but there was still a part of Lex that just couldn't it let go completely. The pictures had been a small part of Clark that he could keep, secret and for his eyes only. No one had to know.

The pictures weren't nearly as good as having Clark's presence in his bed as his personal secret, but it was still something. For Lex, it was necessary, because even if he'd deny it, he could never completely let Clark go.

Knowing that someone else had seen these pictures, he felt as though he wanted to rip something--preferably that person--apart. It wasn't the fact that he was going to be blackmailed with them, but rather that someone else had desecrated the small part of Clark that he had left.

Gripping the edge of his desk so hard that his knuckles turned white, Lex again began to look over the contents of the folder. There were ten color photos taken as stills off a tape that no longer existed, six of them of him and Clark together, four of them of just Clark. All of them had been taken on one specific night, back during the fall of Clark's sophomore year of high school, right around when Principal Reynolds had been giving Clark a difficult time. The morning after the pictures had been taken, Lex had headed into the school, intent on making sure Clark didn't pay for mistakes that weren't his own.

Back then, he'd cared about Clark that much.

Of the four photos of just Clark, two featured Clark sprawled out on the bed in only his boxers, a half-seductive, half-happy smile on his face. The other two photos showed him completely naked, this time looking a little shyer, as Clark had never really gotten over letting himself be filmed naked in bed.

While Lex might have loved the pictures of just Clark, it was the shots of Clark and him that left Lex breathless. He couldn't truly explain it, but somehow it was just proof that their nights together had happened--that Clark had enjoyed them.

One of the pictures of the two of them was a shot of Lex going down on Clark. In that particular picture, Clark's face clearly reflected the intensity of the sensations, as did his tight grip on the sheets. There was desperation on his face and his mouth formed words that Lex remembered all too clearly. He'd been begging, trying to get Lex to allow him release. He looked perfect.

Another two of the shots were of them kissing, Lex on top in both of them. One showed Clark with his arms wrapped around Lex's back, while the other showed him holding on to Lex's shoulders. Lex's hand was entangled in Clark's hair in both the shots, indicating possession.

Two more of the photos actually depicted them having full-out sex. Lex was inside of Clark, and the expression of absolute ecstasy that Clark wore was concrete proof that he was enjoying the experience--something he'd probably have hated to be reminded of, considering the way things had been between them over the last few months. The way their bodies fit together, and the manner in which Lex was scattering kisses down Clark's jaw in one, his chest in the other, spoke of a measure of great intimacy.

The last photo was Lex's favorite. Oddly, it was also the tamest, showing nothing but Clark asleep in Lex's arms. They were facing the camera, Lex behind Clark with his chest to Clark's back. He was holding Clark tightly, almost protectively, and Clark was snuggled against him, clearly liking the feeling. It was, above all, proof that Clark had once trusted him, and Lex needed that. He needed to know that, given the way things had become between them.

Sighing, Lex leaned back in his chair, fingering the last thing that had been in the folder: a slip of paper with a number on it. There was no written message, but the meaning was all too clear.

Lex had never been one to give in to blackmail. It was a Luthor rule not to; if you gave in, they'd never leave you alone--from then on, they'd have a hold on you. But this--this was different. If he didn't find a way to combat this threat, he and Clark were likely the next big story, and he could very well face some serious charges in court--that was, if Martha Kent didn't get to him first.

Of course, he wouldn't have it as bad as Clark, whose whole world would be compromised. Everything he'd ever taken for granted--everything Lex had tried to make sure he kept by forcing their relationship to be secret--would fall away, and he'd suddenly become the focus of an interest so intense that his entire life would be watched, which, for a person with as many secrets as Clark, would be earth-shattering. While he and Clark's relationship may have deteriorated into something that was nothing short of obvious animosity, Lex still didn't want to see him get hurt. Even after everything, he still cared and missed what they'd had. It was, he'd discovered, possible to love and hate someone at the same time.

At a loss for any other option, Lex picked up his phone. He could almost see his father's angry, rebuking face as he gave a nod to the security detail waiting at the door. "I want this call traced," he ordered quietly. The man merely nodded, indicating he understood, before he moved out of the room.

Displaying no emotion, Lex dialed the number, inwardly seething that someone had forced his hand well enough to get him to this point. Of all the possible places for them to strike, this was the best possible one that they could have chosen--an area that Lex wasn't sure how they'd encountered in the first place.

Someone answered on the second ring--not that it was surprising. When someone was seeking a payoff as large as he could offer, he or she tended not to let the call go to an answering machine.

"I almost thought you were going to let those pictures go to press," a mechanically altered voice mocked.

The smugness in that voice--the way they person sounded like they'd already won--made Lex's blood boil. No one spoke to him like that, and he was damn well going to make sure this person learned that. "I don't know where you got these pictures," he snapped. "But you can be guaranteed that, should they ever see the light of day, you never will again."

The voice only chuckled. "Empty threats from a man who has no way to track me down."

"I have methods that you can't even imagine," he spat, looking down at the pictures again. Knowing that the person, whoever they were, had those pictures, made Lex want to kill.

"If you're so omnipotent, why haven't you been able to find who took the pictures from you in the first place?"

It was quite possible that the thing which infuriated Lex the most was that the person was entirely right--he hadn't been able to find who had taken the pictures. They'd been locked in a private room of his, hidden with some of his valuables, much like the things he'd hidden in the room that had been broken into by the men who could walk through walls. Only this time, there had been no break in. Nothing had been forced and nothing else was missing.

"Things like that take time," he replied, "But when I do find out, whoever took them will pay."

The person laughed, almost as though they thought Lex's threats entertaining. "You're no closer to finding anything out than when you first put men on it this morning."

Again, the person was right. Lex wasn't any closer to finding anything out, mainly because the security camera footage for that time didn't exist. The camera had been compromised, only to begin working again after the thief had departed; leading Lex to believe that whoever had broken in had been someone who knew the mansion.

"What do you want?" he asked finally. It galled him to say that--to all but admit that, at the present time, there was nothing else he could do. It wouldn't last--he'd find out--but it was infuriating to have to suffer through being able to do nothing. He just didn't lose.

"I want twenty million dollars transferred into an account of my choice," the person answered immediately. Money...or

"The bank will notice if I'm moving that much money." That was a lie; he had enough different accounts so that he could move some from each. If he wanted the money transferred, no one would be the wiser.

"You're lying to me," the voice replied. "And even if you're not, you'll find a way to get me that money...or these pictures hit the media."

Lex glanced down to where the number had been traced. The signal was bouncing all over, indicating that, whoever this person was; they knew what they were doing. Amateur hour was apparently over, he realized, vaguely remembering that he'd told Clark that when they'd been dealing with a situation like this before. It had been Lois and her sister Lucy that had been held hostage that time, he remembered.

Good times, in a manner of speaking. At least there had been thank-you sex from Clark for that.

"Give me your account number," he growled through clenched teeth. He was out of options for the moment, and he had no choice but to buy himself some time. Still trying to keep himself calm, he wrote down the number supplied.

"You have until noon tomorrow to transfer the money. Any duplicity will send these pictures directly to the press ."

The line went dead, leaving Lex sitting in his chair, no closer to answers than he had been before.

"Damn it," he seethed, slamming the phone down before pressing the call button on his desk. He only had to wait a few seconds before one of his security detail came through the door. "I want any information you can get me on these numbers, understood?" he snapped, handing him the account and phone number. The man nodded before taking the numbers and heading out the door.

As soon as he was gone, Lex leaned back in his chair and reached for the phone again. He wasn't the only one involved in this. As reluctant as he was to make the call, someone else had the right to know.

Sighing, he dialed digits he'd memorized long ago: the number to the Kent Farm.

Clark Kent had always wished he was normal. There was a good chance that desire had its roots in the fact that he was not, but he'd never tried to analyze it closely enough to find out. Whatever the root cause, he had to admit that he liked sitting down on the couch to watch a movie with his friend. It was typical, fun, and it made him forget that he had problems that no other person on Earth had ever experienced.

Maybe that was why an interruption--in the form of a phone ringing in the kitchen--caused him to sigh in annoyance.

"It's fine," Chloe said from beside him on the couch. "I'll pause the movie."

Before the phone had interrupted them, they'd been preparing to spend an afternoon relaxing. It was a rare pleasure for Clark. Between hunting down Zoners and taking care of the farm, he had little time to relax and have fun with friends.

"Thanks," he replied, resigning himself to the fact that he'd have to get up. Sighing, he headed into the kitchen, giving in to the need to find out who was on the phone. More than likely, it was his mother or Lois, calling to ask him something. Both would be annoyed if he didn't answer.

He didn't hear either of the people he'd expected. Instead, once he'd picked up the phone, he heard the voice of one of the last people he'd expected to call him.

There had actually been a time when Clark would have been happy to hear Lex's voice. At one point in his life, he'd looked forward to Lex's calls, because they often carried invitations to come over to the mansion, which had really just been invitations for activities that involved a bed. Clark had never had any complaints about that...in those days.

Now, Clark just wanted to slam down the phone.

"I need to talk to you," Lex announced before Clark could hang up.

"You are," Clark snapped, all good-natured feelings vanishing at the sound of Lex's voice. He couldn't say that he hated Lex, but he'd certainly endured enough pain because of him. He didn't expect a phone call to offer him anything else--not with the way things had been between them in the last few months.

"This isn't something I can explain over the phone."

Clark's irritation bubbled over. "How do you even have the gall to call here after what appeared in the papers last week?" He, Lana, and Lex in newsprint, the subject of a meteor freak gossip columnist. After being portrayed as the ex-lover who was standing between Lana and Lex, he was more than a little angry about the whole thing in general. He didn't want to talk to Lex when it was so fresh in his mind.

Curiosity apparently getting the best of her, Chloe had paused the movie and had come into the kitchen room. Looking a little worried, she stood beside Clark, listening.

There was a sigh from the other end of the phone. "Clark, I need you to come to the mansion." Lex's tone was serious, almost as though he'd given up trying to say it in any way that was less obvious.

The only thing that kept Clark from hanging up was curiosity. "And what possible reason would I have to do that?"

Silence. As Clark was about to tell him that there was obviously nothing left for Lex to say and just hang up, Lex answered. "I received a package this morning. I think you'll want to have some say in how I handle the events that its contents could put in motion." When Clark still didn't say anything, Lex added, "Just come over, Clark, or I'm going to deal with this as I see fit."

From the tone of Lex's voice, Clark had the feeling that Lex's means of dealing with the situation weren't going to be what Clark's would be. "Fine," he agreed. "I'll be over."

Lex's sigh of thanks sounded more annoyed than it did anything else. Irritated, Clark slammed the phone down. Damn Lex, anyway.

"Who was that?" Chloe asked as he turned to face her.

"Lex," he replied quietly.

It wasn't exactly a surprise when Chloe's eyes widened with disbelief. *"Lex?"*

Clark nodded. "Yes. He wants to show me something."

"And when was the last time that he just invited you over like that?" she asked skeptically. "Clark, he's Lex Luthor: Don't you think you should use a little caution?"

"He sounded like he really needed to show me something." Clark didn't know what made him so trusting, but he didn't get the feeling that Lex was setting him up. On the surface, Chloe's concern might have been valid, but she'd never known Lex like Clark had--she didn't know his patterns.

Chloe's answering laugh was bitter. "Something green, maybe? You don't know how much he's aware of when it comes to you. And why would he ask you to come to the mansion?"

"I know I shouldn't trust Lex," Clark admitted. "But it's better to know what he has. Besides, he's never hurt me before." He didn't add that he was fairly certain that Lex wouldn't hurt him at all--at least not physically. She'd want an explanation for that, and he certainly wasn't willing to give one.

"And how do you know that won't change?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. When Clark still didn't look convinced, she threw up her hands in frustration. "Come on, Clark! Look at the stuff he's done!"

"Chloe..."

Chloe fixed him with a hard stare, though Clark couldn't deny the hint of sympathy in it. If he was completely honest, it was the kind of look that was often directed towards stubborn children. "All I'm saying is that you need to be careful. Lex can read most people like books and, while he hasn't figured you out yet, that doesn't mean he'll never be able to."

Clark knew she was right, at least about Lex being able to read people. He was unnervingly insightful, but Clark still couldn't believe that Lex, even if he did discover Clark's secrets, would hurt him. It was just a hunch of his, founded on very little fact, because he knew how Lex exploited everything else.

"You really don't think it's strange that he called you, especially after everything that's happened in the last few months?" she asked, in a clear last-ditch attempt to get Clark to understand her point.

Clark nodded. "Lex has a reason for everything he does. While I might think it's strange, it always makes perfect sense to him."

"Exactly. Just maybe consider that maybe his reasons aren't benign this time?" she asked with a hint of pleading in her voice.

Knowing that he'd never get anywhere if he didn't at least grant her that, he nodded again. "I will," he promised as he headed to the hall and got his coat. She followed right along behind him, still looking worried. "I'll be back soon," he assured her.

"What, you thought I was letting you go alone?" She looked so... affronted that it was almost amusing--would have been, if the destination had been different. Raising an eyebrow, Chloe also grabbed her jacket. "Don't be stupid, Clark. Whatever Lex has, I'm not letting you walk into this alone."

It would be pointless to try to convince her otherwise--Clark knew her too well. Sighing, he held the door for her as they walked out of the house together.

When Clark came bursting through the doors to his study, Chloe Sullivan in tow, Lex had been forced to stifle a laugh. Clark was always so sure that Lex was the enemy--the person responsible for the latest problem that had reared its ugly head. That assumption was evident in the way Clark walked in, as though he thought he was walking into a den of iniquity., Lex had to doubt that Clark would have ever become that narrow-minded on his own, but there were plenty of people surrounding him who hated Lex Luthor and weren't afraid to say it.

After he and Clark had called their friendship quits, Chloe had seemed to decide overnight that Lex was evil. She'd never even considered the possibility that Clark might have had at least some fault in the situation. They said love was blind, but he'd never really witnessed such a perfect example, until he'd observed the way Chloe acted around Clark.

Recalling that, Lex had to restrain a smile as he watched them walk into the room together. It really was astounding how Clark could be so blind as to not see how in love Chloe was with him. She'd have been a good catch--smart, resourceful, and energetic--if he'd ever cared to notice.

For a moment, Clark said nothing, but merely stared at Lex, his brows drawn together in annoyance. "What was so urgent that I had to drop everything and come here?" he asked, fixing Lex with the condescending holier-than-thou look that made Lex ache to hit him.

Instead of letting his frustration show, Lex leaned back in his chair and calmly returned Clark's stare. "I received an interesting package this morning," he said conversationally, outwardly calm despite the torrent of emotions inside.

"And why is your mail our concern?" Chloe asked, stepping forward so that she was even with Clark. Her eyes snapped threateningly, and Lex thought he could discern every characteristic that he hated about reporters, each one clearly outlined in her.

Lex had to admit, although he might respect Chloe, he'd shed no tears if she suddenly ceased to exist. She irritated him with her constant snippiness towards him. He'd been tried and found guilty of all charges before he'd even stepped into the witness stand, at least as far as she was concerned.

What annoyed Lex even more was that she'd passed that particular trait onto Clark. The sweet, naive boy who'd shared his bed had developed more of an edge--he wasn't as trusting as he'd once been, and he'd certainly lost his faith in Lex. In all truth, Lex knew that Clark should evoke in him the same feelings as Chloe did. Had there not been that extra spark between them that was impossible to explain or define, Clark probably would have.

"Actually, Chloe," he replied evenly, making eye contact, "it isn't your concern. I called Clark--not you."

Clark immediately bristled in defense. "Afraid something might get out that you don't want?" he retorted, shooting Lex an icy look.

Lex merely raised an eyebrow in response to the accusation. "If I were doing something illegal, do you think I'd call you here to witness it, Clark?"

Clark, at least, had the sense to look a little taken aback by his obvious mistake. "Whatever you want to say to me, Lex, you can say it in front of Chloe," he said defiantly, after a few moments' pause.

It was almost sickening to see how Chloe's eyes brightened when he said that. Lex had to wonder, did Clark know just how much his trust meant to her? He doubted it--Clark hadn't ever been very perceptive when it came to things like that. Once, that had actually been part of his charm.

"I doubt that, Clark," he countered. Clark looked as though he were about to speak, but Lex cut him off. "And even if you think you're sure, I'd advise you to at least look at the contents of the package before you make a decision."

Clark said nothing, but he did advance towards Lex's desk. Careful to keep the photo face down, Lex handed him one of the shots of them having sex.

As soon as Clark glanced at the picture, his face paled and his eyes widened. He'd clearly realized just what it meant that these photos had been sent to Lex by an unknown person. "Chloe," he murmured after just a minute of touching the glossy surface of the photo. "This is something I've got to deal with on my own."

"Clark...." She looked worried. It was clear she didn't want to leave Clark alone with Lex, and that knowledge made Lex even less inclined to feel generous towards her. She had no idea what she was standing in the middle of. She didn't know that Clark had been fucked on the very rug that she was standing on--she had no idea of some of the actions performed in this office.

"I'll be fine, Chloe," Clark assured her, placing the photo back down on the desk as he gave a quick nod. "I'll catch up with you later tonight."

Lex suspected that, had she been alone with Clark, she would have argued more. "All right," she said finally, although she looked torn. "You sure?"

Clark nodded again. "Yeah."

Still glancing over her shoulder, as if she hoped he'd change his mind, she made her way toward the door of the office, going through it reluctantly. Lex didn't think he'd ever been so happy to hear the click of a closing door.

Then again, maybe it wasn't such a good thing. Once she was out of earshot, Clark turned toward Lex, clearly ready to lay blame. "Where did these come from?" he demanded, the look of fury on his face saying all too clearly he suspected it was Lex's fault.

"If I knew," Lex replied in annoyance, "I would have just taken care of it--I'd have never called you."

"I'm surprised you did anyway," Clark muttered, crossing his arms.

The gesture irritated Lex, and he sighed and leaned back in his chair, annoyed for what felt like the thousandth time that day. "They're threatening to go public with these unless I pay them off. Somehow, I thought you'd like to have a say in what I choose to do."

Clark's worried expression intensified. "Do you have any idea how they got these?"

Lex shook his head. "I received them this morning, along with a number. When I called it, I was given an ultimatum."

"How much?" Clark asked, biting his lower lip. He looked genuinely nervous, as though he was just beginning to realize the severity of the situation.

"Twenty million US dollars," Lex answered casually as he leaned back in his chair. "An amount I can easily pay--that's not the problem. The problem is that, even if I do, they'll still have the photos." He paused, looking up at Clark in an attempt to read his reaction for what he was about to say next. "That's the reason why I typically don't negotiate with terrorists--if they get what they want from you once, they'll just come back for more."

Clark looked taken aback. "You can't just let these go to press!"

Lex felt a spike of irritation go through him. Clark was always so quick to jump to conclusions--to never consider the other possibilities. Lex was a master of working the options, always keeping a cool head and never panicking. Clark hadn't learned to do that. "Did I say that I was going to let that happen?" he asked as he rose to his feet, moving around to the front of the desk in order to stand next to Clark. While Clark watched, he spread the photos out on his desk, all the while trying to pretend that it was not an awkward thing to be doing with an ex, specifically the one with him in the photos.

"I have until tomorrow at noon to transfer the money to an account. I also received a threat that, if I fail to do exactly what I've been told to do, the pictures will hit the stands. We'll be in the headlines of every newspaper, gossip rag, and news station in Kansas, and likely in the entire United States." Glancing up at Clark, he added, more as a jab than anything else, "What's your suggestion?"

Clark scowled, clearly aware that Lex was being sarcastic and trying to emphasize just how helpless Clark was in the situation "Damn it, Lex," he muttered, "you know I don't have one. Maybe if you hadn't sat on this all morning--"

Lex had to admit that he'd always gotten a jolt out of the times when Clark had been forced to depend on him. That hadn't lessened over time, nor did he expect it to anytime soon." Clark, you'd still be just as helpless if I'd told you about this from the start," Lex pointed out dryly, rolling his eyes. "You have no idea how to even begin handling this type of situation."

Clark shot him a withering look. "Then why did you even ask?"

"Maybe I like seeing you admit that there are some things you can't do," he replied with a shrug, smiling sharply.

Clark merely clenched his fists in what he must have thought a subtle manner; to Lex, it was beyond obvious. "What are you going to do?" he finally asked, though the words were clearly like pulling teeth to him. Hell, anything that involved admitting that Lex could best him was horrible for Clark.

"I'm going to pay the money, and then I'm going monitor the account. Any activity will be flagged immediately."

"Didn't the person say they'd go public if you did anything like that?" Clark's sharp tone might have implied aggravation at Lex for his suggestion, but Lex understood the root of it: anxiety. Clark had never been good at hiding his emotions, and they always seemed to come through somehow--not that Lex blamed him in this situation. How could he, given how much Clark stood to lose if this ever got out? Every bit of normalcy that he'd ever had would be gone. His whole life would go under the microscope.

"It's the only real option we have," Lex admitted, hating the words as they slid over his tongue. Conceding that he'd been backed into a corner infuriated him in a way that nothing else ever had. "We can only hope that we'll be able to find the person before they figure out that they've been tracked."

Clark glanced over at Lex, making shaky eye contact. His eyes were a hypnotizing green, the same color that they'd always been when Clark had shown strong emotion. The sight made something curl inside Lex's chest. It was not an entirely unpleasant sensation. "And if we can't?"

Lex stared back at Clark, trying not to seem as affected as he truly was. "Then we try to contain Hell as it breaks loose."

Hell, as Lex found, was not found during zero hour itself, but while waiting for it to arrive. Every phone call, every opening of his door--it all made him tense, leaving him anticipating the worst. It was the waiting that tore at his nerves, the way that actions never could.

Clark didn't seem to be faring much better. Three phone calls from Chloe later, none of which Lex thought probably flattered him in any way, Clark was still sitting on the couch, looking worried.

"Nothing?" Clark asked finally, breaking the silence.

It was a challenge to refrain from pointing out the obvious: if there had been any news, Lex would have let Clark know. He'd have saved them both the awkwardness of this experience--a strain that Clark was obviously feeling. Physically, he was still as flawless as ever, but the little signs of stress were there, from the persistent downward curve of his mouth to the tight line of his eyebrows.

Clark was worried.

Sighing, Lex shut his laptop, giving Clark his full attention. "Clark, there's nothing you can do," he told him honestly. "What point is there in you even staying here?" He was almost a little surprised at himself. Since when had he begun to again care so much for Clark's welfare? Really, what problem was it of his if Clark wanted to sit in a place that obviously made him uncomfortable? That was Clark's own foolish decision. He shouldn't care.

Clark eyes narrowed, immediately making Lex regret any concern that he'd felt. "I want to be here."

The actual meaning of those words was clear enough to understand: Clark didn't trust him. He was there to make sure Lex didn't handle the situation in a way that could be considered less than moral. If he'd had a way to do that without actually being in Lex's presence, Lex had no doubt that he'd have taken it.

"You know, I didn't have to call you about this," he reminded Clark coldly. "I chose to, meaning you don't actually have an inherent right to be here--don't act like you do."

"Always on your terms, isn't it, Lex?"

"I'm paying--it damn well better be." At the moment, he had no dearer desire than to knock Clark down a few pegs, and reminding him of the amount of money that he'd never be able to help pay seemed a viable way to do that. Pride was an inherent trait in Kent men, and one that Clark had in spades--he wouldn't take kindly to being reminded of his helplessness.

Instead of looking as affected as he usually did, Clark only continued to stare at him, his gaze shifting into something that was almost condemning. "I'm not the one who created this mess," he said quietly. "They're your pictures."

He looked accusing, and that annoyed Lex to the point where he could feel fury flaring up inside him. It wasn't as though he'd gotten into this situation by having sex all by himself--Clark had been a consenting, equal party.

"And you're front and center in them." He paused, looking straight into Clark's eyes as he added, "Besides, if this gets out, no one will be surprised about my role in this. But you--you are going to shock people." Still chuckling, despite his anger, he picked up one of the pictures. "Who would have ever thought that Clark Kent could be such a gorgeous little slut?"

Lex knew he'd pushed too far. Clark--the way he looked right then was nothing short of murderous and, while he was rarely ever so openly angry, things tended to get broken when he was. "What would your shareholders think of a CEO who's guilty of statutory rape?" he spat, getting up from the couch and stalking over to stand in front of Lex's desk. Leaning over, he placed both hands on the desk as he looked straight into Lex's face. There was no hint of intimidation in his eyes--he was clearly convinced that Lex had nothing on him.

"You're over the age of consent in these pictures," Lex pointed out with a smirk, all the while thinking of the ways he could wipe that confident look off Clark's face.

"You had an affair with a high school boy," Clark reminded him, his tone slow and deliberate as if he were speaking to a small child. "You're a billionaire, son of one of the richest men in the world, and you slept with a high school boy from a small town in Kansas. Do you think your reputation--your company--could handle the kind of press that you'd get from that?"

The truth was, no, Lex didn't think his reputation could handle that. He already had too many strikes against him--mistakes of his youth--and people had long memories when it came to the rich and famous. He could already hear the talk show hosts and gossip columnists...

His business, on the other hand, would survive. It would take a hit, but he'd be able to build it back up. Clark's reputation, on the other hand, would likely not be so lucky.

"What about you, Clark?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "You think you could bounce back from this?" Clark wasn't like him--he hadn't learned to disregard what other people thought. He'd never be able to deal with the snide comments he'd hear whenever he went out in public--it wasn't who he was, and Lex thought he probably should care a lot less about that happening. He shouldn't care whether this would hurt Clark. "I don't know if you remember, but there were reasons I took great care to make sure no one ever found out about our...mutual attraction."

Clark mumbled something under his breath about a fatal attraction that Lex couldn't quite hear. He doubted it was very flattering.

"Sorry, Clark, I didn't quite catch that." Stupid kid couldn't play a game like this with him. No one should be able to. He didn't know why he was letting Clark get away with it.

Clark merely rolled his eyes, although Lex got the distinct impression that he was considering something--weighing it in his mind and deciding whether voicing it was worth the trouble it could cause. Apparently, he deemed the consequences small enough to speak his mind--or he might have just decided that the aggravation he was likely to cause would be worth it.

"What would Lana think?" he asked finally. "I bet you never told her about this."

"It's always about Lana for you, isn't it, Clark?" Certainly he'd never told Lana about what he'd done with Clark--it had been before they'd ever had any kind of romantic interest. He didn't owe her an explanation on the subject. Clark, on the other hand, had been sleeping with another man while he'd still been giving Lana the impression that he was interested in her.

Sighing, Lex decided that reason was clearly not going to be a factor when arguing with Clark about anything to do with Lana. "Go home. I'll call you if anything happens," he finally promised.

To Lex's surprise, Clark actually listened. With one last aggravated look, he turned on his heal and headed for the door, walking out of it without even a backwards glance.

Lex had to concede that Clark always had been good at one thing.

Dramatic, overdone exits.

By the time the next morning rolled around, there was still no hit on the account where Lex had deposited the money. It didn't make any sense, considering the demands that had been made. What kind of extortionist demanded money...and then didn't take it? It was almost as if someone knew the account was flagged.

Unfortunately, as Lex found out when one of his private investigators brought him that morning's addition of The Daily Planet, that thought might not have been too far off base.

Whatever the cause, there was a picture of Lex and Clark splashed across the front cover. It was the tamest of all the pictures and, although it had been cropped, so that it was only from their waists up, it still showed all too clearly the nature of the activity they were engaged in.

Lex paused, closing his eyes as he let his hand rest on the newspaper. He was aware that his world had just been irrevocably changed but, for the life of him, he couldn't force himself to dwell on that right then. His mind was already consumed with plotting some way to spin the problem sitting on the desk in front of him--to somehow make it less sordid than it appeared.

Both his and Clark's lives depended on that.

Accompanying the paper was another manila envelope, identical to the first. Slowly, Lex turned it over and slipped his finger under the flap, opening it carefully. There was only one item inside--a small slip of paper, which spelled out three typed words.

Enjoy the fallout.

"Damn it," Lex swore under his breath, letting the paper drop to the desk. It lay there, standing out among spreadsheets and business notes, impossible to miss.

Whatever was happening, it was a carefully planned maneuver. Someone was setting him up, and Lex was beginning to think that it was far more personal than just an extortionist clamoring for his money. Whoever was doing this wanted to cut at him--to make him really feel the pain. Unfortunately, that hardly narrowed things down. He'd made enough enemies for any list to include just about all of Smallville, and a large section of Metropolis to boot.

Glancing down at the newspaper again, Lex felt a surge of rage. When he found out who was behind this, he was going to make that person pay, because no one did this to him. There was no one on Earth that he would allow to ruin his life like this.

Or, by extension, Clark's life.

Clark.

A chill settled over Lex as he realized the full implications of what was happening. He might have alerted Clark the previous night--warned him that his life could be ruined--but he himself was just now realizing how true that was. Clark was going to wake up to a world that was infinitely different from the one he'd fallen asleep in.

"Shit," Lex swore under his breath, already reaching for a phone. If Clark didn't already know about what had happened, it was about damn time that he found out. At least then he might be prepared for the reporters camping on his front lawn.

Or, as Lex realized when the doors to his office slammed open and into the walls... maybe not.

Clark was a sight to behold as he halted in the doorway. Every exquisite line of his body spoke of immeasurable emotion, most of it oscillating between stress and anger. And his eyes--his eyes were practically on fire with intensity. Lex felt his breath catch at the strange, unearthly beauty of it.

Their lives were falling apart, and Clark was still turning him on. Fantastic.

"I was about to call you," Lex informed him, forcing himself to appear more calm than he really felt, as he held up the phone. "But I take it you've already seen the news."

"Seen the news?" Clark asked quietly, looking incredulous. "Seen it? I've got reporters trampling all over my front lawn, Lex. I damn well am the morning news."

"And you'll probably be the evening news, too," he replied wryly. Becoming more serious, Lex leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes as he tried to collect himself. Emotion would get him nowhere when dealing with such an enormous problem. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what happened, Clark."

That was, loathe as Lex was to admit it, the truth. Had Clark been thinking clearly, he probably would have known that without asking. Clark knew better than anyone how much Lex Luthor hated to have someone get the best of him.

"You don't know?" Clark demanded, moving quickly into the room. "How do you not know? Lex, my life is falling apart, and the only answer that you can give me is that you don't know?"

It was a struggle for Lex to contain his rising annoyance. He wasn't responsible for supplying a terrorist's motives. "Would you prefer a lie?" he snapped, slamming the phone back down into its cradle. "Because I can make up one of those, just like you did for years."

"Shut up, Lex," Clark spat at him. "Any secrets I had were mine to keep. I don't owe you any explanations. If anything, you owe me an apology for how hard you kept pressing me."

Always his fault. When dealing with Clark, he was always the one at fault. "Get over yourself, Clark. Remember the time when I was trying to regain those weeks I'd lost? You had absolutely no concept of privacy then. Not only did you keep interfering, but you went to my father and involved him in your attempts."

Something dangerously close to remorse flickered in Clark's eyes. "I was scared you'd hurt yourself."

"And I was worried that you'd end up in over your head." Lex replied, rolling his eyes. For someone so selfless, Clark could be remarkably self-absorbed and short-sighted at times. "Phalen? Nixon? Those names ringing any bells?"

"I got out of those situations just fine on my own," Clark replied sourly, looking away from Lex.

"Clark, both of those people ended up dead... and you're damn lucky that you weren't connected to either of them."

"You were the one who shot Nixon, Lex."

Saying, 'I did it for you,' sounded so terribly clich and, even with the total insanity that had become his life, Lex refused to sound like a character in a romance novel. It didn't matter if his motive actually had been something along that line.

"And why did I shoot Nixon, Clark?" It was better to let Clark to work the words out himself.

Clark didn't reply, nor did he look at Lex, his gaze remaining on the floor. Good, Lex thought with a smirk. At least Clark was uncomfortable with the conclusions he was drawing. He should be.

"What are we going to do?" Clark finally asked. It wasn't lost on Lex that he was deliberately dismissing their other conversation, but the circumstances at hand dictated that he'd have to let that go... for the time being.

"Find a way to spin this."

Clark looked skeptical. "Is there a way to spin this?"

Truthfully, no, but Lex was good at producing magic out of the proverbial hat. He had to be. What was happening was just... a little harder to control than usual. Honestly, he wasn't sure he could. Dealing with the fallout--trying to contain it--might be their only option.

He hoped that wasn't true.

"We'll find one."

"No one's going to believe the photo's fake," Clark pointed out, sighing as he sank down into one of the chairs in front of Lex's desk. "We spent too much time together for people to believe that."

Point to Clark, Lex mentally ceded. He was right. "If this was the only picture, it would be easier, but whoever's doing this has more... explicit material that they can release to the media at any time. Attempts to make this look platonic are going to fail." Fail was a massive understatement. Platonic friends didn't have sex together, and whoever was blackmailing them had explicit material of them doing just that.

"Damn it, what else can we possibly do? They'll crucify both of us if we can't prove that!"

Lex knew his skepticism must have been blatantly written all over his face, but he didn't have the energy or the will to hide it. Clark could see what he wanted. "Clark, it's pretty hard to prove something that's not the truth."

"Then what are you planning to do?"

Honestly, Lex had no idea. No. Idea. At. All. The fact that there were still more pictures out there was the real problem. The one that had been released, he probably could have dealt with. The remaining ones that showed him and Clark actually having sex--he had no chance of handling.

Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. He needed something strong to drink and, if he hadn't also needed every bit of good sense and sharpness that he possessed, he probably would have already been drunk and senseless. It still sounded very appealing.

"First, I need to find out who's behind this--discover their motive. In the meantime--" In the meantime, he'd have to begin damage control. It would be pointless to lie and say the photo had been manipulated because, if any team of experts went over it, it would be apparent that it wasn't. "--in the meantime, I think I'm going to have to convince the masses that you were at least over the age of consent, because I really don't look good in orange."

Shocked was an interesting look on Clark. "You have to be kidding me."

Lex rolled his eyes. "Clark, I know that you have your code of morals, but at this point--"

"No," he interrupted Lex, shaking his head. "Not that. I'm--you're just going to admit to all this?"

"If you've got a way to plausibly deny it, be my guest."

"Lex, don't you understand that, whether they believe I was sixteen or not, you're still going to basically be perceived as a child molester?"

Thank you, Clark, for your blunt honesty, Lex thought bitterly. As if he weren't going to hear enough of that from the press. "Cheer up, Clark--at least you're going to look like the victim."

"You think that's going to matter?" he asked, looking incredulous. "I'm still--my mother is in the Senate, Lex. This--her career--I can't--"

"Surprisingly enough, her career will probably survive. The American people can be remarkably odd that way. As much as they bash their politicians for corruption, they still keep electing them."

Really, the one who was going to have the hardest time was Clark. He might have only been a kid in high school when the photos were taken, but he lived in a small, mid-western town where homosexuality was... more than frowned upon. People he'd thought were his friends were going to snub him; customers were going to cancel their produce orders--just walking down the street was going to earn him disgusted, half-curious stares.

And there wasn't a thing Lex could do to stop it.

The strangest thing of all was that he honestly wanted to.

"Is it true?"

Closing his eyes, Clark took a deep breath. He'd known this confrontation was coming, but he'd still been dreading it. Chloe was his best friend, always there for him, but he didn't think she'd understand this. Hell, even he didn't completely understand it.

"Yes."

"Damn, Clark." Sighing, she sank down on his couch, rubbing her forehead with the palm of her hand. Stress was evident in every line of her body, and it was practically dripping from her words. "Why?"

"I can't even begin to try to explain it." He couldn't. That was the truth. He had absolutely no explanation--not for her, not for the world... and not for himself. All he knew was, at the time, Lex had been what he'd needed.

"All that time that you spent pining after Lana was just for show?" she asked, leaning back against the cushions of the couch as she watched him. He felt remarkably like an animal on display, under observation by a scientist.

"I--no, I don't think so." Lana had been his attempt at normalcy--his way to feel like every other high school guy. She'd been a fantasy and, after he'd gotten her, he'd found out that his fantasy hadn't even really existed. He might have actually loved her--he wasn't sure. All he knew was that, love or not, she hadn't been what he'd needed. She'd just been safe, comforting. She'd been the normal that he knew he wasn't meant to have.

"I--Clark, I can't believe you slept with Lex Luthor," she said finally. "And I really, really can't understand why you let him take pictures!"

Clark felt a prick of anger. She was acting as if he was stupid and, while he knew he hadn't made some of the best decisions, everyone made mistakes, as cliche as that sounded. His mistakes just happened to be bigger than most.

"I have to get chewed out by everyone else about this--could you just--just--I don't even know. I was a sophomore in high school, and I wasn't thinking. Just--"

"Pretend everything's all right?" she snapped, sitting up and fixing him with a glare. "No, Clark, I can't, because while everyone else is getting their torches and pitchforks, I'm going to be here trying to help you clean up this mess. And while I may be here, that doesn't mean I have to be happy about the situation you've put yourself in! Lex Luthor? When you were a sophomore in high school? What the hell were either of you thinking?"

"You're staying?"

Clark didn't know what he'd expected--didn't know why he was so surprised. He certainly hadn't expected acceptance and maybe not even Chloe sticking around at all. He didn't expect many other people to do so, at least. The truth was that he hadn't thought... then or now.

The way her eyes widened--her shock at the question--would have been amusing at any other time. "Yeah," she answered. She sounded so surprised that he'd doubted, like she'd thought her position was obvious.

Maybe, Clark thought, it should have been.

"Thank you."

He didn't think many other people would stand by him, and he probably should have realized earlier how lucky he was to have a friend like Chloe. More importantly, he should probably recognize that right then, even if it was a little late.

"Thank you," he repeated again, more firmly this time.

Chloe slowly nodded. "You're welcome."

"How could you not tell me about this?"

Lana was, when she wanted to be, one of the most annoying people that Lex had ever met. She possessed a unique way of making it sound as though everyone in the world owed her something--including information that had nothing to do with her.

Lex didn't need to ask what she was talking about. The look of pure disgust and anger--mingled with what he thought was a little jealousy--that she wore on her face as she stormed into the room was enough of a hint.

"It was over and done with before anything ever happened between us."

That was the truth, in a manner of speaking. Certainly, he and Clark had no longer been sleeping together when Lex had begun to date Lana--or when Clark had done so in his freshman year of college, actually--but things were never actually finished between them. He and Clark had never been good at letting things go. Their past was always influencing their present relationship--or lack thereof. Just because they weren't sleeping together didn't mean the effects of the times that they had were null and void.

"You were sleeping with another man, Lex. That's something I might have wanted to be aware of!" she snapped, her eyes widening angrily as she advanced to stand in front of his desk. "You were sleeping with Clark."

Lex refrained from mentioning that Clark hadn't been the only man he'd slept with--he was just the only one who he'd ever actually cultivated a relationship with. Clark had been more than a quick blow job in a back ally or a hurried fuck in the back room of a club.

Typically, Lex only dated girls. Trust Clark to be an exception for just about everything in Lex's life.

"Why should I have told you? I wasn't sleeping with him when we were together, and it would have upset you needlessly."

"Needlessly? Lex, I think I'd be less upset if I'd found out from you, rather than from every single newspaper in Kansas."

"I didn't anticipate that it would ever get out," he admitted, leaning forward onto his desk as he tried to gauge her reaction.

"And now that it has?" The way Lana's cheeks were reddening in anger was just short of amusing. She looked attractive when she was angry, all fire and sharpness, alive in a way that she often wasn't otherwise. Her fire and drive was part of the reason he'd found her at all alluring and, when she was angry, that attraction multiplied. He hated to think what that said about him.

Looking away, Lex sighed. She wasn't going to understand how everything was going to work. Clark would probably understand better than she would. "There's no way that I can deny it."

She looked completely taken aback, maybe even a little disgusted, almost as though she wished he would deny it. At least that way, she wouldn't have had to admit that it had happened at all. "You can't be serious."

"I am. Whoever this person is--and I'm working to find that out--there are several other pictures that will make it... very clear just what the nature of our relationship was."

Something in Lana's eyes darkened--something more primal and calculating. "And what about the money?" she asked slowly. "You can't just hand that over? Honestly, Lex, is however much they asked for worth more than your reputation? If it were just the picture that's in the news now, you could find a way to make it seem like something else."

Lex thinned his lips, annoyed at her failure to understand. Lana wasn't a fool, nor was she as naive as Clark. She understood why he couldn't give in to people trying to control him--why he couldn't cave to blackmail. Unlike Clark, she was familiar with his world and the ruthlessness that ran through it.

"When someone has resorted to blackmail, the game never ends, Lana. You should know that. They'll always have a hold on you if you let them."

"Lex, whoever this is, they're going to ruin your life."

He nodded. "And once they have, they'll have nothing left with which to bargain."

"And you'll have nothing left, either!" she snapped, her voice rising to nearly a shout.

It took a few moments, but Lana eventually seemed to realize how she sounded. Visibly shaken, she took a deep breath and looked away from Lex, obviously attempting to calm herself. "Lex, I don't want this to ruin everything--to ruin what we have. Please, just pay the money. Just make this go away."

Lex almost wanted to--wanted it to be that simple. It was a tempting thought--to give in just this once, to allow himself to have the happy ending that he'd always wanted. In that respect, he wasn't sure he was any better than Clark. Lana was his ideal, just as much as she'd been Clark's, the only difference being that he knew it--Clark never had. It just didn't matter to Lex. Lana would be a good wife, a good mother, and he'd finally have someone who cared about him. Ideals never lasted, and he understood that, but he'd be happy with something a few steps below that. He didn't require perfection.

"I've already paid the money," he admitted finally. "I had the account monitored, transferred the money, and waited. The next day, the pictures hit the paper. Whoever I'm dealing with, they must have a mole planted somewhere. It's not that simple anymore. Just paying the money isn't going to buy me anything."

"So don't monitor the account!" she snapped. "Set up a transfer that's untraceable. Just give them what they want and make this go away!"

Leaning forward in his chair, Lex caught her gaze and held it firmly. "This isn't going to go away, Lana, no matter what I do. No one's going to forget what they'd already seen and, in all likelihood, things are going to get worse. If you can't handle being the current girlfriend of someone who slept with another male and is being reminded very publicly of it, I suggest that you leave now. Things aren't going to get any better from here on in."

Something flashed in her eyes, and she thinned her lips. "Is that what you want?"

"It's not about what I want. I seldom get what I want. Right now, it's about what you can handle."

"You're not over him, are you?"

That accusation was not what Lex had expected. Not even close and, for the first time in quite a while, he didn't have an answer ready for her.

"Neither of us ever really was, were we?" she asked coldly, pushing her chair back and standing up, a hard look in her eyes. "You might be angry with him, bitter about how things turned out, but you've never stopped wanting him."

"I think Clark would disagree with you." After everything that had happened between them during the last year, it was impossible for Clark to do anything else. And, if Lex were completely honest with himself, some of his attraction to Lana had come from taking her away from Clark--in making sure that Clark didn't get what he wanted. "He'd tell you that everything I've done in the last year has been meant to hurt him."

Lana glared at him with an expression so filled with disgust and contempt that it reminded Lex of how his father had looked at him after the meteor shower. It had hurt then--he wasn't going to let Lana make him feel the same way. "You always manage to hurt the things that you love, Lex," she informed him icily.

"You could argue that I love you then, couldn't you?" He didn't believe he did. He coveted what she could offer him, certainly, but no more than that. He didn't think he loved her.

"Why did you ever want me in the first place?" His failure to answer only seemed to prompt her to supply her own. "Because Clark had me, Lex," she answered for him. "Everything you've ever wanted with me stemmed from some sort of feeling for Clark."

The oddest thing was that he thought she might be right. Lana had been Clark's ideal, and Lex knew he'd be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he'd gotten a certain thrill from taking her away from Clark.

"I've only ever been a prize to you," she continued, shaking her head. "And I'm done. If you want to play games with Clark, play them with him--not me."

Lex would never forget the look she gave him just before she turned around and stalked away, heading for the door. It was raw anger with maybe just a little bit of jealousy and hurt. He had to wonder if it came from losing Clark or losing him--perhaps both. They were the two men that she'd had the most serious relationships with, and he couldn't blame her for being hurt when she'd found out exactly what they'd done together.

Lana slammed the door behind her and, for just a few seconds, Lex considered going after her. He didn't love her--he was ready to admit that--but he did like having her around. It was nice to have someone to come home to at night.

Lana just wasn't that person. He'd only be fooling himself if he pretended she was.

He didn't go after her.

Lex usually didn't display stress. He almost always kept his emotions in check, hidden, even if they were eating him alive. When Clark had been younger, he'd worried about that, because he knew that when Lex did show emotions, it meant that they'd come from the inside out--that they had destroyed every barrier Lex had put up against them, leaving nothing behind. That meant when the emotions did emerge, they were uninhibited, sometimes leaving Lex unpredictable.

Lex wasn't at that point yet, but Clark was beginning to think that he'd better not push too hard.

"Tired of trying to fight off the media, Clark?" Lex smirked as Clark entered his study. "I'm not certain this will be a much better alternative--at least not if anyone finds out you're here."

"There are reporters on my lawn," he replied slowly, trying not to let Lex see just how much that bothered him. He hated the spotlight, and when people were peeking in through his windows, trying to snap a candid picture, it was if he were a creature on display.

Clark had never wanted that to happen. He'd never wanted to feel less than human.

Oddly, he thought that he detected a flicker of sympathy on Lex's face. "Why didn't you go hide out at Chloe's? And please tell me that no one saw you when you arrived here?"

"I didn't want to put Chloe's home on the map," Clark replied stiffly. "I assumed the mansion already was." How could it not be? Lex was the most infamous man in Kansas, at the moment.

Lex sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and beginning to look more stressed by the moment. "So they saw you?"

Whatever sympathy Clark might have been feeling for Lex, died right then. Lex made it sound as though he were a problem--something that should have stayed hidden. He made it seem as though the entire mess was Clark's fault, and damn it, that was so not true. It was never quite clear who had initiated things between them, but neither of them had ever said 'no.'

"No, Lex, no one saw me," he muttered, sounding bitter even to his own ears.

Lex only nodded. "Good. At least this saves me a phone call." Pausing, he got up from his desk chair and approached the bar, reaching for the scotch. "I'm holding a press conference in Metropolis later today."

"What?" Clark would have thought that Lex would want to avoid the media--not bring them in.

Sighing, Lex took a sip of his drink, his eyes remaining on Clark. His gaze was so sharp--piercing--and for a few seconds Clark found himself wanting to squirm under it like he'd done when he'd been younger. Lex had always had that effect on him... at least if he'd wanted to. "I have to make a statement, Clark. Right now, the majority of the public thinks that I slept with an underage boy--"

"You did sleep with an underage boy--"

"--and my stocks are suffering because of it. There's no way to deny that I did sleep with you, but you're over sixteen in those pictures--it's impossible to prove that anything happened before that."

"Lex," he repeated again, becoming more annoyed by the moment. "Something did happen before I was sixteen."

"You think that matters? Clark, it's about what can be proved--not the truth."

"Lex--"

"I'm not letting your morals earn me a trial date, Clark."

His morals. That was just unbelievable. Lex was unbelievable. "My morals? How about your decisions? You didn't seem to object--"

It was a little startling when Lex slammed his glass down, ignoring the liquid that sloshed over the side. "Shut. Up. I don't care if you like it or not. This is the way it's going to be." Ignoring the mess that he'd made with the scotch, he returned to his desk, reaching for his laptop. "Show yourself back out the same way you came in."

Surmising from the way that Lex was gathering up his things that he was leaving for Metropolis, Clark ignored the clear dismissal. He wasn't willing to let Lex have his way that easily. "I'm coming too."

Lex stopped what he was doing. "Excuse me?"

"You don't get all the say in how this plays out. I'm not letting you go to Metropolis and decide how to spin this all on your own--"

"You are not coming to a press conference with me," Lex snapped, cutting him off. "Clark, do you have any idea how things look right now? How this is going to affect your life? Do you want to make that worse?"

Lex knew the answer to that--Clark didn't need to tell him. Lex was a lot of things, but moralistic just wasn't one of them. If left to deal with the situation alone, Clark had no doubt that it would get resolved. The legality of the resolution was another matter. The Luthors were undeniably a family that, when crossed, seemed to have the ability to make people disappear.

They also weren't used to refusal.

When Lex looked up at Clark, his eyes snapping with anger, Clark forced himself not to back down. "Fine, Clark. If you want to come to Metropolis, you do that. But I'll have your ass hauled off the premises if you get anywhere near that press conference."

It was doubtful that Lex's security would be able to stop him, but Clark wasn't about to remind Lex of that. Still, Lex's gaze was sharp enough to make Clark reconsider whether he really wanted to anger Lex that much. There was enough stress to deal with already.

"I'll agree to stay clear if you agree to let me have some say in how things get handled."

"And you think you're entitled to make demands like that?" Lex snapped.

Clark did think he had earned the right to make demands like that--the situation had to at least give him that right, if nothing else.

"You're not the only one whose life is affected by this, Lex. I want some say in how this gets worked out."

Lex really didn't look as if he wanted to grant him that--not that Clark was surprised. Lex didn't like giving up control.

"Fine, Clark," he finally conceded, turning towards the door. "Go get whatever you need, and then come back here. I'll have a driver waiting to take you to the penthouse."

It was acceptance, but it was given grudgingly. Clearly, Lex would have preferred to take care of things himself, in his own way. Still, as he shut the office doors behind him, leaving Clark standing there alone, Clark could only find himself satisfied that Lex had given in.

Lex hated the penthouse. He detested everything about it. It was cold, hard, unwelcoming and, most of all, exactly what his father had wanted when he'd designed it.

Oddly enough, that whole effect seemed lessened when he stepped into the living room to find Clark watching TV on the couch. It was strange to think that perhaps it was what the chilly atmosphere had needed all along--someone like Clark to warm it up.

"Hey," Clark greeted when he saw Lex enter. It wasn't a warm greeting, but Lex didn't sense the hostility that was usually there. "Nice job," he added, gesturing toward the TV.

Ah, yes, the press conference, in which Lex had systematically denied all of the accusations (some well-disguised, others blunt) that he was a child molester. He doubted anyone actually believed him.

"No one believed a word I said," he admitted with a shrug as he sank down on the couch next to Clark. "It doesn't matter--they can't prove anything, and they have their quotes and sound bytes. My job is done. Now I concentrate on trying to doctor the hit that my stocks have taken."

"It's all business to you, isn't it?" Clark asked, surprising Lex with the chill in his voice.

"As opposed to what, Clark?" He was a businessman--his business was his life. What did Clark expect?

"Did you ever think about how this is going to affect me?"

"It will blow over eventually, Clark. Things will--"

"Don't tell me things are going to get better."

Lex stopped, closing his mouth. Clark's face was etched with pure anger, and if he didn't want to hear assurances, Lex wasn't going to force him to listen. If Clark wanted, he could damn well wallow in his own self-pity.

"You have no idea," Clark spat, glaring. "People--those I thought I knew--look at me like I'm something disgusting on their shoe--like I don't even have the right to be alive, all because I slept with you, and--"

"You knew there was a possibility it was going to happen," Lex cut him off. "You knew when you slept with me--you said you understood--"

Clark's voice rose, overriding Lex's with sheer volume. "I didn't really know--I couldn't have--but it would have been different, if you'd been there and if we still had what we did at the time when this all happened. Walking down the street and getting those looks when you're not even sleeping with that person anymore--it's not worth it. It might have been if we still were, but--"

That was... interesting. Clark was upset because of the way people were treating him, but it was more than that--he felt as though it was all for nothing. And maybe, in some way, he was regretting losing what they'd had.

Regretting losing Lex.

"Damn it all, Clark, you're the one who left."

Clark was silent, and Lex couldn't remember the last time Clark had looked at him like that, as if he simply couldn't process what Lex had said. No lies, no accusations--just outright confusion, and maybe a little hurt and regret.

It hurt to tell Clark truths like that, because in some way, it forced Lex to admit to himself that it had happened. He'd never been able to get over the physical attraction between them and, more than that, he'd never been able to recover from how he'd felt on a deeper level. He'd never completely let it go, had just buried it, and maybe all the hating and fighting they'd done over the past year had stemmed from that.

Clark moved forward, but Lex was too caught up in the past to really believe what was happening. He reached out to push Clark back, fully intending to force him away. He didn't want Clark touching him.

Except, when his hands hit warm flannel, he stopped.

Just stopped.

Pushing Clark away suddenly seemed completely impossible. They hadn't been this close in so long, and Lex felt as if he'd just discovered something he hadn't realized he was craving. Clark was... needed, whether they were friends, fighting, or sleeping together.

Lex needed him.

"I didn't know what else to do," Clark muttered, clutching Lex's shoulders as Lex pushed him onto his back on the couch. "I just--I don't even know anymore if it was the right or wrong decision."

"If you aren't sure, then we probably shouldn't be doing this," Lex pointed out, ignoring his own words as he began to kiss his way down Clark's neck. Clark's skin was just as amazing as he remembered it being--too amazing to give up voluntarily. They probably shouldn't be on a couch kissing, but Lex was tired of analyzing his interactions with Clark. Their relationship couldn't get any worse than it was already.

Clark gasped when Lex bit down gently and then eased the bite with his tongue. "We've tried everything else, Lex. We've got nothing left to lose."

He was right. There was nothing else besides more dislike and enmity, and they'd always been at their best when having sex--maybe doing it again would work better than trying to talk things out. After that, maybe, they could try talking, when Clark was a little calmer and in a better mood. Lex intended to ensure that with an amazing bout of sex.

Until then, Lex planned to make Clark forget every reason he'd ever thought of as to why what they were doing was a bad idea. He'd leave Clark so satisfied he wouldn't be able to think of a reason why they shouldn't do it more often.

Lex could be an excellent negotiator when he needed to be, and having Clark was something he was beginning to think was worth negotiating for. Maybe under the right circumstances, he'd finally get what he hadn't been willing to admit that he still wanted.

Clark didn't know exactly what had motivated him to come on to Lex. It didn't make sense--one moment they'd been fighting, arguing over how the whole fiasco had affected Clark's life, and the next they were on the couch, acting like they had three years previously.

Even more surreal, Lex had left that morning for the office, leaving Clark to sleep. He'd even left a note on the bathroom mirror, and that was close enough to domesticity to seriously creep Clark out. People left notes for their live-in lovers--not for the guy that they'd been fighting with for years and just happened to have sex with the night before.

Sighing, Clark made his way into the kitchen, only to get another blast of the surreal life when he realized that Lex had left coffee for him. The morning-after scenario wasn't something he hadn't expected--he'd already had his morning-afters back when he and Lex had actually been together. Having the same now just seemed too much like trying to revive something that had died years ago.

Sighing again, Clark pushed away his thoughts as he grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. For lack of anything better to do, he reached out for the pile of mail that sat there. It undoubtedly was Lex's, but Lex had left early--he wouldn't get to it until he came home, and Clark was hopeful that the morning paper was under the top envelope.

Of all the things Clark had expected to find in that stack of mail, a manila envelope with his own name on it wasn't one of them. It didn't make sense. The servants wouldn't have just left that lying there--not with all the security. There was no address, no stamp, and no return address-surely Lex's security would check over something that had just been delivered with the morning mail, wouldn't they?

Unless it had never gone through security.

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, Clark turned the envelope over in his hand, letting his fingers run over it. It was possible that it had never been delivered at all, at least not in the sense that he was thinking of. He didn't want that to be true--not at all--because if that was the case, then the person who'd brought it had access to the penthouse.

Maybe, Clark tried to tell himself as he slipped his finger under the flap, it was nothing at all. Or, he amended as he dumped the envelope upside down and got a good look at its contents, it was something.

The envelope contained more pictures. This time they were stills off a security camera, black-and-white and dated with a time stamp.

A time stamp that corresponded to the night before.

It was an act of will for Clark to calm his breathing as his mind began to draw the most obvious conclusion possible. Whoever had obtained these pictures, they had access to Lex's security footage. They had been watching him and Lex have sex, and they were probably even watching him at that moment.

"Damn it," he swore, shoving the pictures back into the envelope as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. Lex's number was still the same, and Clark was beyond thankful for that, because he couldn't deal with hunting down numbers right then.

Lex answered on the third ring. Clark didn't waste time. "Someone's watching us," he blurted out, staring down at the envelope in his hand.

"What?"

"This morning, there was an envelope on the table. It has pictures of... us. From last night."

Lex was silent.

"Last night?" Lex asked finally, sounding uncertain--worried, even. There was something sharp and dangerous about his voice and, even if Clark didn't want to admit to it, hearing Lex react like that made him feel a little safer.

"Security stills," Clark amended. "Of us."

"Someone's watching us."

"Yeah."

"Get out of the apartment, Clark. Right now." Lex sounded anxious, but still so sharp. He was better at thinking under pressure than Clark was, and Clark was thankful for his skill at that moment. "Meet me downstairs in the lobby in ten minutes."

Lex didn't wait for an answer, but simply hung up, leaving Clark standing there with a phone to his ear but no one on the other end. It didn't matter--Clark wasn't going to complain about that rudeness, because someone was watching him. They might even still be watching him, and that was just beyond creepy.

Pocketing his cell phone, Clark grabbed the envelope off the table before heading for the door.

"Let me see it," were Lex's first words when he strode into the lobby, his face set in a mask of determination. As soon as Clark handed the pictures over, Lex grabbed his arm and turned back towards the exit, clearly expecting Clark to follow. Clark did, more out of curiosity--and the overwhelming desire to be out of the building--than anything else.

There was a limo waiting outside by the curb, and Lex hurried them over to it, slipping inside when the driver opened the door. Clark followed, sliding onto the seat beside him.

For a few moments, there was silence. Until the door shut, Lex's face remained unreadable, his eyes emotionless. It made Clark uncomfortable, and he was thankful that some of that calm facade dropped when the driver shut the door.

"These just turned up with the mail this morning?" Lex asked.

Clark nodded. "I came into the kitchen, and I thought I'd read the paper. I found this instead."

"No address," Lex noted, turning the envelope over in his hand, subjecting it to greater scrutiny. "This didn't go through my security."

"I didn't think it had," Clark replied, shrugging. He'd been able to figure that out, at least, but that answer opened the door to an entirely different set of questions. How else could it get into the apartment?

"Whoever's doing this has access to my buildings."

Looking at Lex's face, Clark decided that he didn't envy that person when Lex found out their identity. He'd never realized vengeance had a facial expression, but Lex was certainly embodying something that Clark would judge as close to that.

"They have enough access to be able to get into places in my mansion that they shouldn't be able to--that would raise eyebrows from any of my employees if they saw someone entering. I also find it hard to believe that they could stroll through all of my security around the penthouse. It doesn't make sense. No one has that much clearance."

"Obviously, someone does." Sighing at that thought, Clark leaned back in the seat and reached for the envelope again.

Though Clark wasn't quite sure what made him do it, he opened the envelope and let the pictures inside slide out onto his lap. Damn. He and Lex were--well, they were making it very clear what the nature of their relationship was, even if Clark still wasn't exactly sure about that himself. He and Lex hadn't talked about what they'd done the previous night, and that left nearly as many open questions as the appearance of the pictures had.

Nothing was making sense lately. He and Lex shouldn't look this good together, and he certainly shouldn't appear as though he was enjoying taking it up the ass as much as he did in the pictures. The world wouldn't care what he should look like--they'd only judge on what the pictures showed.

"You look good like that."

Lex's voice startled Clark out of his thoughts, and he immediately felt a blush rise up his cheeks. "Yeah..." he murmured, not quite sure how to reply. The truth was that he was pretty certain he agreed with Lex, and that scared him more than he wanted to admit.

"If I'd had any say about it, no one but me would have ever seen that."

"I know." Lex wouldn't have shown the pictures to anyone--he knew that. He knew Lex wasn't behind this.

"No, I don't think you do."

Somehow, Clark didn't think he was referring to showing people the pictures.

"Lex--"

"I pushed too hard back then," Lex said clearly, his hand reaching out to retrieve one of the pictures off Clark's lap. "I pushed you too hard. I--you were too young. Whether you were willing or not, I never should have let things go that far."

"You can't pretend that all of this never happened," Clark protested, trying to cut off anything else Lex might say. The previous night, he'd wanted that admission so badly, but now it just didn't seem to matter.

"I don't want to pretend," Lex snapped as Clark looked away from him. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, Clark," he added, seeming frustrated.

Clark did, begrudgingly, because he knew everything was written all too clearly in his eyes. He couldn't lie to Lex like this--he never could, really, but at least his lies weren't so glaringly obvious when Lex wasn't looking him in the face. Face to face, Lex was going to see everything.

"I don't want to share you with the world," Lex began again, holding Clark's gaze. "I don't know what it is about you, but you feel right, Clark, and maybe I need to stop trying to figure out why. Maybe I'm thinking too hard--trying to treat emotions as a science, when I'm not even sure that can be done."

"You can't pretend that one night makes everything else go away. We--there's been too much bad stuff between us."

Lex's intensity didn't falter, but a spark of annoyance seemed to ignite somewhere behind his eyes. "I'm not going to beg you, Clark," he said quietly. "I don't do that. But the offer's there--it's not like you have anything left to hide from the world. I can almost guarantee you that whoever took the stills off the camera last night is going to make that public--the world's going to know that you're still sleeping with me. What do you have left to lose?"

"I'm not going to fall back into your bed because it's convenient." It annoyed him that Lex was approaching sex like a reasonable business proposition--like the most logical course of action. That wasn't what a relationship was supposed to be, at least not in Clark's mind.

"What, do you want it to be because of a wild moment of passion?" Lex commented wryly. "You had that last night, too. You didn't sleep with me because it was convenient then, Clark. You did it because you wanted to, and if you deny that--"

"I'm not denying it."

He wasn't. There was no point. The previous night had been because feelings had come to a head, and they'd both just sort of ended up letting those emotions get the better of them.

"I'm not denying last night. I just--I'm not sure trying... this again would be... workable."

"I'll make it work."

Clark thought it was almost amusing how serious Lex looked, as though he really believed that because he said so, the universe would bend to his will.

"It's not that simple."

"It can be," Lex replied quietly, looking Clark straight in the eye. There was no lie there--just truth, raw in a way Clark didn't understand. "It can be if you want it to be, Clark."

"You can't make the world go away, Lex." He'd probably try, but not even Lex could do that--it wasn't possible. Clark wanted it to be. So, so much, he wanted it to be, but it just wasn't...and pretending was useless.

"Clark, if that's what you damn well want, then I'll buy you your own private island somewhere. If you don't want to face the world anymore, you won't have to."

Clark laughed bitterly. "In exchange for what? Sex? I'm not your whore, Lex."

Something in Lex's eyes immediately iced over, leaving Clark with the sinking feeling that he'd gone one step too far. Mercifully, the feeling of the limo pulling to a stop seemed to at least stall Lex's reply, at least in words. All he actually received was a quick, sharp look, and then Lex was exiting the limo, leaving Clark sitting there confused.

Nothing at all made sense, Clark thought bitterly as Lex slammed the limo door behind him. Nothing at all, really, and he wasn't even sure what he wanted.

That might have been the most confusing part of all.

Lex hated his emotions. They defied all logic, disregarded common sense, even when every part of his brain warned him he was being irrational. They were the reason for second chances, crushed hopes, and every hurt that he'd ever suffered.

They were the reason Clark still got to him, even after all the time they'd known each other.

Lex should have known better, and he realized that. Clark didn't even understand what Clark wanted--he wasn't going to be able to give Lex what he wanted. Thinking that they could try to revive a long-dead relationship had been foolish, nothing but another way to get hurt, and Lex had left himself open and vulnerable to it.

Clark had a way of doing that to him.

Narrowing his eyes, Lex tried to push those thoughts away in favor of looking over the suite that he'd rented. Two blocks down from his penthouse, it was convenient, and more importantly, no one on his staff had access to the security cameras. Even if they had clearance in his buildings, they wouldn't in this one.

Ten minutes ago, it had also seemed appealing because it meant that Clark would be staying with him. That wasn't the case, presently--it had turned into a reminder of how stupid he'd actually been.

One night together, and he'd been back to craving Clark as he had when they'd been together. One night--just one damn night--and he'd needed to taste that skin again, wanted that touch, longed for Clark so much that he'd hoped for a second chance.

He should have known better.

The opening of the door startled Lex out of his thoughts and, when he saw that it was Clark, he had to repress the desire to start swearing.

"I didn't mean it the way it came out, Lex," Clark said slowly as he made his way into the room. Lex was beginning to bitterly regret ever instructing the secretary at the front desk to give Clark access to his room. "I just--I don't even know what I want, and you... surprised me."

"I'm sure I did, Clark," Lex replied wearily, going for the already stocked bar. He needed something strong, and he needed it badly. "Bad timing, too, right? I suppose it was foolish to expect you to know what you want in a situation like this one." He refrained from mentioning that, given the nature of the pictures being exposed to the media, feelings on the issue were something that Clark probably should have figured out right away.

"You're being unfair."

A rich statement, coming from Clark.

"On the contrary, Clark, I think I'm being pretty damn good to you right now." Nothing was broken, no one's life had been ruined, his voice was still softer than a shout, and he wasn't drunk... yet. That was remarkable restraint, as far as he was concerned.

"I'm not--do you even see the problems with this situation?" Clark sounded so frustrated, and it was almost enough to make Lex feel sorry for him. Almost...though not quite. "There are so many reasons anything between us could go wrong."

"And that's so much easier than looking at what could go right, Clark?" Lex snapped as he poured some scotch out into a glass.

"You're not even trying to think rationally about this."

Clark as the voice of reason: that was enough comedy material to satisfy Lex in a very dark, twisted way. If out of the two of them, Clark was going to be the one to think things out logically, Lex suspected that everything would take a turn for the worse very quickly, because while he thought he was ruled by his emotions? Clark was positively dominated by them.

"I'm thinking perfectly rationally, Clark," he replied coolly. "I understand that you don't know what you want, mostly because you won't let yourself think about it. You're too afraid of what you could want, and you'd rather play it safe than risk something that will hurt."

Clark's kiss was completely unexpected, shocking in a way that Lex couldn't even begin to describe. Two seconds earlier, they'd been talking about why something like that wasn't going to happen, and then Clark was suddenly up against him, pressing their lips together.

Lex was kissing back.

"You sure as hell better not change your mind this time, Clark," Lex whispered when they broke apart. "Walk away right now if you have doubts."

Clark's eyes were completely honest as he met Lex's gaze. "I've got my doubts, but I'm willing to try."

Lex knew he shouldn't accept that--knew he should make Clark give him a more definite answer. As it always went, every bit of his logical mind was screaming for him to do that--to make Clark more like a business proposition. He didn't do it then. He couldn't do it now.

As it always seemed to happen, his emotions won out.

He gave in and kissed Clark back... sealing a deal he couldn't bring himself to actually make.

The morning after, as Clark had discovered, could be one of the best parts of sex. It could also be one of the most awkward, depending on the situation. So far, Clark wasn't sure how the current morning was going to go.

Lex wasn't awake, but Clark knew that wouldn't last long. Already he could tell that Lex was getting restless, tossing and turning until the sheets were tangled up around him. He was never a restful sleeper, by any stretch of the imagination, but Clark had been around him long enough to know the difference between nearly awake and simple restlessness.

Almost as if he knew he was being watched, Lex opened his eyes, immediately focusing on Clark. There was no lingering sleepiness--he was fully awake, all his attention concentrated on the person in front of him.

"You're still here--I'll take that as a good sign."

Sighing, Clark burrowed his cheek into the pillow. He still wasn't sure he'd made the right decision, but laying in bed just looking at Lex made him feel a little more secure. "You should."

"I'm not playing games with you this time," Lex warned him, his voice a warm rumble. There was no threat there, merely a statement of a fact. "I'm not indulging teenage tendencies now that you're twenty."

"I'm not the only one who was a little insecure, Lex."

For some reason, that pulled a small smile up onto Lex's lips. "Point," he murmured, simply looking at Clark. "You're gorgeous in the morning."

Clark couldn't suppress a tiny grin. Lex wasn't a blatant romantic--he rarely had ever said anything about love--but Clark had always known how Lex had felt about him, mainly from compliments like that. It had been one of the nicer things about their relationship, and hearing something like that brought back a comforting sort of familiarity.

"We should get up," Clark said quietly after pausing a few seconds. "Check the morning paper to see if we're the news again."

"You don't seem as upset about it this morning."

Lex was right--Clark wasn't. He wasn't particularly crazy about having his naked body--and Lex's--splashed across the front of newspapers and tabloids, but it was somehow different when he was actually sleeping with the person. It was no longer something to be ashamed of.

That was a pretty fast transition for someone who'd only decided to fall back into bed with his ex the previous night. He and Lex had been fighting for a long time, but there was just something about close proximity--and being forced to talk--that had required them to work out their problems--or at least smooth them over until they were tolerable.

"I'm not," he admitted. "It's different when it doesn't feel like a mistake."

Lex's soft, barely visible half-smile was enough to let Clark know that he appreciated the comment. "There's an opening for a new wing of the Metropolis Museum that I'm obligated to go to later tonight," he told Clark after a few moments. "Come with me. I'll give an interview to the press. We'll put a positive spin on this."

"You don't give interviews," Clark reminded him.

"I'll make an exception."

Clark rolled to his back and looked up at the ceiling, frowning. "And you think I want to be paraded around in public in a suit? Haven't we already given them enough to talk about?"

There was silence from Lex's side of the bed and, for a moment, Clark was afraid to look, fearing that he'd said something wrong.

When Lex finally spoke, his tone was quiet, laced with an underlying iciness. "I want to make whoever set us up regret it, Clark. I want to make those photos worthless to them because, whoever it is, I'm beginning to think that it's personal. There would be no greater satisfaction than making them think that because they made those photos public, they actually did me a favor in the end."

Immediately, Clark felt something in his chest clench. "Is that what I am to you? Is this just a way to stick it to someone who blackmailed you?" He didn't want to be someone's instrument for revenge--not ever. If that was all he was to Lex, everything they'd done in the last few days was worthless.

"No, Clark. The ultimate revenge would be for everything I just said to be true--and it is."

"Why do I have to go to a museum opening to prove that?"

The shifting of Lex's body on the sheets was easily audible next to Clark, but he still didn't turn his head. It wasn't until Lex's hand gently slipped across his stomach that he finally looked over at him. "You don't, Clark. But I want everyone to see how true it is. I want whoever did this to know that it didn't work." Moving in a little closer, he let his lips brush against Clark's ear as his voice dropped to a whisper. "If you agree to get dressed up and go with me, I'll make it worth your while later."

Clark shivered, instantly aroused despite himself. It was impossible not to be when someone as sexy as Lex was making promises like that.

A part of Clark knew that he was being somewhat hasty. Only a few days ago, he and Lex had been fighting bitterly. They hadn't been able to stay in the same room without throwing heated comments and barbs at each other. For that to change in less than a week was a little unbelievable.

At least, it would have been if he and Lex had ever actually been believable in the first place. As it was, Clark didn't think that their relationship had ever been logical. In some ways, they'd even liked that it wasn't.

"I'm asking you for this, Clark. I want to kill this problem once and for all. Let me make sure that those pictures are worthless to whoever is sending them. Just let me do that."

Despite what Clark wanted, his answer was forming on his lips before he really had the chance to think about all the reasons why it was a bad idea. "Fine."

Lex kissed him.

Clark felt himself falling hard.

Again.

He hadn't learned anything from his early high school years. Oddly enough, he thought he might be all right with that.

Clark hated any form of parties--and Lex knew it. For someone who hid as many secrets as Clark, crowds held a higher risk of exposure, the public a wider venue for observation, and society parties an attempt for everyone to pick him apart. Lex didn't blame him--if it hadn't been true before, it certainly had become so in light of the information that had exploded in the media in the past few days.

Lex had known the opening of the museum was a perfect example, but Clark had to face up to it eventually, and they had a limited time in which they could make the latest press scandal look positive--not that Lex could completely clean up the damage. There were still people who wouldn't associate with his company because they suspected--and were right to suspect--that he'd had a liaison with an underage boy.

It wasn't about the statistics for Lex this time. As far as he was concerned, he had the opportunity to pull a turnabout on the person who'd released the photos. In the end, the blackmail attempt had ended up being a blessing in disguise, because Clark was back with him, at his side during the party, and later, hopefully, in his bed. He wanted whoever had caused all the initial damage to see that.

However, just because the situation had ended up being a blessing, it didn't mean Lex was going to stop trying to discover the person responsible. It would take time, and it would probably be tedious, but he was willing to wait until the investigation turned something up--his own investigation, because all the police were really doing was investigating his affair with Clark. They could have cared less that someone had robbed and then attempted to blackmail Lex.

In the meantime, Lex had plenty to entertain himself with.

"You look handsome, Clark," Lex murmured, moving up behind Clark, who had been standing in front of a large painting, staring at it with a spacey look plastered across his face. "I want to burn all your flannel and make you wear suits everyday."

Clark immediately shifted his gaze away from the painting to Lex. His objection was the same one he'd made quite often in the past. "Suits wouldn't work on a farm, Lex."

Grinning, Lex indulged himself by quickly leaning in and giving Clark's ass a quick grope. He wasn't sure how he'd gone without touching Clark for so long. Maybe that had been where the disagreements had come from--unresolved sexual tension.

As Lex had expected, Clark jumped and glared at him. "Damn it, Lex, stop. You're already being accused of molesting me--do you need to do it again in public?"

"You're not jailbait anymore." It was a point Lex was endlessly thankful for, because not being able to touch Clark would have been torture. Grinning, he let his arm slide a little higher until his hand rested in the small of Clark's back. "I can touch in public now, and no one can arrest me."

"Doesn't mean you should push it," Clark mumbled, though the blush in his cheeks gave away how his body was responding to Lex's caresses.

"Don't want people watching?"

"Why would I?"

Clearly, Clark didn't know about exhibitionism. Sometimes Lex forgot how naive he could be. "Come with me."

Three days ago, Lex had been alternating between being bitterly at odds with Clark and wanting to protect him from the backlash of what had happened. A few days and some good sex had changed that--had gotten them back on the same page. They weren't conventional and they didn't make much sense together, but they were right, and Lex had long ago given up trying to figure out the strange hold that Clark seemed to have over his emotions.

Clark only hesitated for a few seconds before he fell into step behind Lex, following him as he headed out of the exhibit and down one of the hallways. Although he looked at Lex with curiosity when Lex entered the bathroom, Clark didn't stop following him.

"Lex, what are we--?"

Lex never let him finish. Life tended to get messy when Clark talked too much about why something was unreasonable. Kissing was easier and more enjoyable. "You didn't want people watching. No one's watching now," he murmured, breaking the kiss and pushing Clark backwards into one of the stalls. He caught the door with his left hand and pulled it shut behind them, locking it.

"Lex--" Clark tried to protest, shifting against the side of the stall where Lex had shoved him. "This is crazy." He looked as if he believed what he was saying, but there was an unmistakable bulge in his pants, which let Lex know that, crazy or not, Clark was trying hard not to like it--and failing.

"Yeah?" He'd done crazier things. What they were doing was nothing compared to his clubbing days.

"What--damn it--what are you doing?" Clark nearly squeaked when Lex reached down to undo the front of his tented pants. "Lex, this is a public restroom--anyone could walk in!"

"Let them. I certainly have enough money to keep them quiet. As long as no one takes pictures, we should be fine, right?" Grinning, he slipped his hand down the front of Clark's pants and squeezed.

"Fuck!," Clark gasped out, his head falling back against the wall. "Lex, that's not funny--"

Poor Clark. He was so out of his element--and Lex enjoyed putting him there. It was so easy to ignore the tiny warning bell in his head that was telling him how that particular brand of enjoyment had led to videotapes of him and Clark having sex--which had led to a public scandal.

"Let me do this, and then I'll give an interview and we'll go home." If Clark complained about an offer like that, Lex wasn't sure what he would do. Clark was getting to go home early from a function he hated in exchange for allowing Lex to give him a blowjob. Lex wished Clark would offer him deals like that.

"Anyone could walk in," Clark protested again as Lex dropped to his knees, his hands carefully taking Clark's cock out of his pants. Cotton boxers under an expensive suit--it was comforting to know that there were certain things about Clark that would never change.

"That's part of the fun, Clark. Relax."

"Fun?" Clark asked incredulously, his tone higher than normal as Lex leaned forward. "That's--"

Half to shut Clark up--and half because he wanted to--Lex bent and took Clark in his mouth, swirling his tongue lazily over the head of Clark's cock. As he'd expected, Clark let out a surprisingly creative string of curses and leaned back into the wall, gasping for air.

It never ceased to amuse Lex how someone so quiet and reserved in everyday life could be such a talker during sex. Clark had always blushed when Lex had reminded him of it later, which he'd often done, mostly because he'd always gotten such enjoyment out of the words and the blushes. Pretty, naive Clark, running off at the mouth--there was just something hot about that.

Placing his hands on Clark's hips, Lex began to suck. He wasn't surprised when Clark began to thrust forward, and Lex had to wonder just how much self-control Clark was still using. He wasn't fool enough to believe that there weren't still secrets between them, but he knew so much more about Clark and his unique abilities than he had before. Even if he hadn't, it wasn't hard to see that Clark was using some measure of restraint.

Lex suspected that, had Clark not been, the results would most likely have been deadly.

It didn't take long before Clark was coming, Lex's name on his lips. Even as he was swallowing, Lex looked up at Clark, watching his luminous face. He'd never seen anything to match Clark's face when he came, and it left Lex breathless every time.

Clark was gorgeous after having had sex. There was always a somewhat glazed look in his eyes, coupled with a hint of shock. He almost looked as though he couldn't quite believe what he'd just gone through--what Lex had made him feel.

That might have been Lex's favorite part of it all.

"See?" Lex smirked when he stood up, tucking Clark back into his pants. "No harm done."

Still breathing heavily, Clark shot him a glare that didn't quite have enough venom behind it to really be meaningful. "You know as well as I do that anyone who sees me right now is going to know exactly what we've been doing."

Lex was hard-pressed to care, so long as no one could prove it, but Clark was obviously unnerved at the thought. It was time for a bit of damage control.

"They'll have no proof, Clark. Nothing's going to happen."

"But people will talk, and--"

Lex couldn't hold back his laughter, even though he knew it would aggravate Clark. "We've already given them plenty to talk about." The idea that Clark was worried about gossip after shots of them having sex had been sent to the newspapers--it was just amusing.

As Lex had expected, Clark frowned, looking annoyed. "Why give them more?"

"Why should we care? There's nothing they can do. They'll talk, it might make a few gossip columns, but they'll have no evidence--nothing that they can use." Clark still didn't look swayed. Sighing, Lex reached out and gently helped him finish re-adjusting his clothing before opening the door of the stall. "Clark, if it bothers you that much, I'll pay off anyone who tries to say anything more loudly than a whispered bit of gossip, all right?"

"I don't want you paying people off," Clark immediately replied as he went over to the sink and began to wash his hands. "It's not right."

It probably wasn't, but Lex wasn't seeing exactly why it was so wrong, either. It was a simple concept of economics--he paid, he received something in return. It wasn't as though he were trying to hide anything illegal.

"Can you just give that interview so we can go home?" Clark asked after a short pause.

Lex couldn't help but grin. Clark's words might have seemed short and annoyed, but there was a tiny spark of heat in his eyes that gave him away. Clark, no matter what his hang-ups, had enjoyed what had just happened and wanted more of it, as long as it was in a situation where he was comfortable.

Lex was willing to accommodate that preference, considering what the reward could be. Nodding, he walked over to the door of the bathroom and opened it, letting Clark go out first. He'd give the interview, and then they'd go home, just as he'd promised Clark.

Of course, if he'd had his way, they'd have just skipped the interview.

Clark could honestly say that he didn't like most reporters. Growing up with Chloe, he hadn't quite understood what they were like. Most reporters were nothing like Chloe had been--or Clark might have been blind to her more... forceful side.

Clark hoped not--he hated how the reporters he'd had to deal with in the last few days had acted.

The reporter interviewing Lex had been sharp and condescending, obviously convinced that Lex had been hiding something. The fact that he was right didn't make the questions any easier for Clark to handle.

Lex had insisted that Clark wait in the next room during the interview. As it had turned out, that had been a wise decision, given the leading questions that had been asked. Clark had no doubt that, had he been there when the reporter had asked Lex if he'd seduced Clark while he'd still been underage, he'd have blushed so furiously that the reporter would have been given his answer.

It had been a relief when the interview had finally ended and the reporter, annoyed at his inability to uncover anything damning, had left. Lex had rescued Clark and, as promised, had taken him home.

Clark had never been so happy to see the penthouse in his life.

"I don't think I'll ever really be much good at going to things like that," Clark told Lex as the elevator reached the penthouse floor and stopped, its doors opening. "There were too many gossip-hungry people waiting to see me make a mistake."

"That's the reality of the world I live in. When you're on top, people want to see you fail," Lex replied as they moved into the penthouse. Instinctively, Lex headed towards the living room--and the scotch, Clark suspected. "There are sites on the internet dedicated to discussions about the evils of Lex Luthor. I'm sure they've started a whole new board to discuss my debauchery of gorgeous underage Kansas farm boys."

Lex probably only meant the statement to be half-funny, but Clark couldn't hide his full-blown grin. Let them think what they wanted. No one had any proof and, for the first time in months, he was feeling as if everything was making sense again.

"You shouldn't look so happy about that, you know," Lex chided him wryly as he went over to the bar and took out a glass. Pouring himself a drink, he added, "You're not usually so eager to break the law."

"Make that flat-out corruption of Kansas farm boys?" Clark suggested. It wasn't that he'd broken the law--he'd have felt the same if it had happened a year later.

The crash that came from the bedroom killed any reply that Lex might have made.

"What was that?" Clark asked immediately, already hurrying towards the hallway. He could hear Lex behind him, his lighter footsteps muffled against the carpet.

"I have no idea," Lex murmured, sounding perplexed. "Let me go first."

Clark almost blurted out that letting Lex go first would be stupid, because he was the one who was invulnerable. Almost. It didn't quite make it past his lips. Part of him wanted very badly to tell--wanted Lex to know everything--but there was still something inside that wouldn't let him, at least not in that moment. He and Lex had only just started to work out their issues. Clark wasn't ready to lay everything bare yet.

In the time it took for Clark to reach that conclusion, Lex was already brushing by him. He ordered Clark to stay back as they approached the bedroom door.

The door stood slightly ajar and, though the noise was soft, Clark could hear the sound of someone moving inside the room. Whoever it was, they were clearly trying to be quiet, and Clark's mind immediately brought up the profile of a thief or a rogue employee. Wanting to be sure that the intruder wasn't armed, Clark switched to x-ray vision and looked straight through the wall.

He wasn't prepared for what he saw.

"No way," he breathed, shoving past Lex, who was stealthily preparing to peek around the door.

"Clark? What the hell?" Lex snapped, as Clark pushed him aside to throw the door wide open and barge into the room.

Lana looked almost tiny in the shadows of the bedroom--as if she were trying to disappear. She was kneeling down next to Lex's nightstand and going through it, which only served to make her seem even smaller--more vulnerable. Despite the situation, Clark still had trouble believing that she was anything but defenseless. If he hadn't seen for himself what she was doing, he might never have been able to believe it.

As soon as the door crashed open into the wall, probably denting it from the force of the swing, Lana inhaled sharply, spinning around to face them. "Clark!" she gasped out, her eyes wide with fright. Clearly, she hadn't expected anyone to be home.

Slowly, it dawned on Clark that she must have known their schedule, and that Lex should have stayed longer at the museum opening. She'd been counting on it.

Clark never got to respond--Lex beat him to it.

"Would you care to explain what you're doing?" he asked coldly, his voice all ice. That was the odd thing about Lex--when he was angry, he became cooler, calmer and more collected than he usually was.

Realizing she'd been caught red-handed, Lana straightened up and stepped away from the nightstand, as if trying to distance herself from it. "I forgot some of my things here. I just came back to get them," she replied, matching Lex's cool tones.

"In my nightstand? Please, Lana, you can do better than that." He looked so contemptuous, staring stonily at her as if she were no more than a petty thief. Clark couldn't help the tiny bit of sympathy that rose up in him for his former girlfriend.

Clark didn't understand what was going on. It didn't make sense to him that Lana would break into Lex's penthouse and go through his things. Lex had said things were over between them, and what she'd just said seconded that. It just didn't make sense that she'd come back.

"I don't owe you an explanation," she told him coldly, crossing her arms. "You never gave me an adequate one."

Clark was sure that she'd been trying to lay the blame on Lex--though, blame for what, he wasn't sure--but Lex looked anything but guilty. He watched as Lex raised an eyebrow and asked Lana, "I'm sorry, but weren't you the one who declared things over between us? What explanation did I still owe you?"

Slowly, Lex began to make his way forward, stopping in front of the nightstand. Leaning down, he picked up the few things that still lay scattered on the floor. "That's the problem with you, Lana," he said when he straightened up. "You blame everyone else for everything. It's always your parents' fault for dying, Nell's fault for not doing what you think she should, Clark's fault for keeping secrets from you, my fault for not being who you want--it's always someone else's fault." Pausing, he looked down into her face, his eyes ice-cold and condemning. "Don't try and feed me a line about how my lack of a sufficient explanation drove you to become a thief. I didn't force you to do anything--you're not a victim. This is all you. Not a very nice picture, is it?"

Lana narrowed her eyes, and Clark could discern the tightening of her lips. She was visibly nervous, though about what, he wasn't certain. "I just came to get my things."

"You didn't have anything to pick up in the penthouse. You never left anything here."

"I'm leaving."

As forcefully as someone her size could, she pushed past Lex, heading for the door. For a few seconds, right before she moved by Clark, she looked straight up into his face. The anger that he could see there was disturbing, and Clark found himself withdrawing, letting her reach the door without further disruption. "He'll destroy you, Clark," she murmured, pausing at the door. "And you're letting him do it."

Clark never tried to reply. It was easier to just let her walk out, slamming the door behind her.

"What was she doing?" Clark asked once he was sure she was gone.

Slowly, Lex made his way back over to the door. There was something on his face--something so angry and agitated that Clark almost felt the need to take a step back. It wasn't directed at him, but just its presence was frightening. "Trying to find more evidence of my indiscretions. She wants something that I can't deny--that I can't put a positive spin on. Mainly, she's furious that her attempt to ruin me ended up aiding me in the end."

That didn't make any sense. Lana didn't have a reason to ruin Lex. Clark knew that she'd left once the pictures had surfaced, but that didn't account for any prior attempts to destroy Lex.

"What do you mean?" he asked slowly, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Lex sighed and looked back towards the nightstand where they'd found Lana digging through Lex's possessions. His eyes lingered there as he seemed to search for the right words with which to answer.

"You really don't see what she did, Clark?" he finally answered, his eyes dark and angry-looking. "Lana stole the pictures from me, and then she made them public. This whole media circus? It's because of a woman scorned."

Some things, Clark thought, were just too incredible to be falsified. Even Lex, as creative as he could be at times, couldn't make something like this up.

Surprise was really a good look on Clark, Lex thought. He had such beautiful, expressive eyes, and to see them so wide and bright with shock was breathtaking. Even with the current situation, there was no denying the attraction. Lex just wished he were in a less urgent situation that would have allowed him to take the time to enjoy it. Unfortunately, he didn't have that kind of time. Not right then.

"How do you know that?" Clark asked when he finally regained the ability to speak. "Are you sure?"

Lex had reached his conclusion the moment he'd seen who was going through his room. Immediately, everything had fallen into place. Lana still had clearance to his buildings--she'd have bypassed security easily. No one would think it strange if she were prowling around his home. It was just the curious girlfriend, exploring. It wasn't such a stretch to think that she'd also found a way into his secure safe.

Somehow, it didn't surprise Lex that Lana had reacted the way she had. Seeing the pictures of him and Clark had probably been an enormous blow to her ego. After all, Clark had presumably chased after her all through high school, having eyes for her alone. Finding out otherwise must have made it seem as though Clark had been playing with her, pretending to chase after her while he was sleeping with Lex.

Worse, it suggested that her entire relationship with Lex had been all about Clark and, Lex had to admit, it was one point where she might not be entirely wrong. It hadn't been intentional on his part but, in retrospect, her ability to hurt Clark had certainly been one of her more attractive features.

From Lana's point of view, every interaction she'd had with both him and Clark must have appeared to be a lie.

Lex had no doubts that, had he paid her blackmail demand, she'd have disappeared and released the pictures to the press anyway. She'd likely wanted the money to be able to leave--to start a life somewhere else, reasonably well-off. She'd also wanted to ruin both him and Clark.

"I'm sure," he finally responded to Clark's question.

"Why?"

Poor Clark. He didn't want to believe that his perfect fairy princess would ever do something like that. In hindsight, that had been Lana's major miscalculation--Clark had never played her. He'd genuinely wanted her, because she was everything he'd believed he was supposed to want. Even when he'd been sleeping with Lex, he'd craved that high school normalcy, dreamed of fitting in. Lex had let him chase his dream, because he'd cared for Clark enough to want him to be happy.

The irony was that Lana had tried to destroy Clark based on a supposition that hadn't been true.

"Those pictures were of you when you were still in high school, Clark. Think how that would have looked to her."

It wasn't an enjoyable moment watching a harsh reality sink in for Clark--it never was. Clark was so sweetly naive, and to see him lose that--even just a little bit--was always unpleasant. Clark inspired the desire to protect, and it hurt Lex to know there was nothing he could do to soften the blow that the information had dealt.

"She thought I was using her," Clark said slowly, his eyes flickering with regret. "She thought that I'd played her since we'd met."

Lex witnessed the moment guilt slipped onto Clark's face, and he immediately felt a spark of irritation. He wasn't going to let Clark blame himself for Lana's decision to wreck lives based on a supposition. Even if Clark had used her, Lana hadn't had the right to try to ruin him publicly.

"You are not responsible for this," Lex snapped, probably more harshly than was wise. "Lana has been vindictive and petty about something that she hadn't bothered to get all the facts on. Everything is not always your fault, Clark--stop trying to make it seem that way."

Clark didn't look convinced. More than that, he looked aggravated by Lex's sharp words and demeanor. "But--"

"If it had been me who had publicly tried to ruin you because of some indiscretion that you'd supposedly committed in the past, you'd be furious. You wouldn't be blaming yourself--you'd be blaming me. You wouldn't be going over your actions, thinking about how you could have possibly driven me to do something like that. Just because she's Lana, Clark, doesn't mean that she deserves the benefit of the doubt more often than anyone else does. She's not a sweet small-town girl anymore, even if you truly think that's all she ever was. Believe me; I know that better than anyone. Either you stop seeing her that way, or you're going to keep being disappointed and hurt."

"That's not fair to Lana," Clark tried to say. "She's been through a lot--"

"Whatever has happened to Lana in the past, at some point she needs to start taking responsibility for her own actions. She's never had to before--people haven't forced her. That needs to stop."

Lex could see the reaction in Clark's eyes--could see that his words had hit home. Clark had always had a weak spot for people who needed saving, and he'd never liked to believe that they were in a situation because of their own actions. If he were to admit that, it would often mean they couldn't be saved. Clark didn't like facing the fact that he couldn't do anything--that in some situations, he was helpless.

In retrospect, Lex wondered if that was why Clark had been so quick to condemn him as a bad person. If Clark admitted the truth--if Lex himself had been the only one responsible for his less than moral standards--Clark wouldn't have had to feel guilty about Lex's actions. Giving up on Lex wouldn't matter, because Lex hadn't wanted to be saved. If Clark could believe that, he could also believe that he hadn't failed. He'd probably hated feeling that there was nothing he could do, but it had still freed him of any guilt that he might have felt.

What Lex thought Clark needed to understand was that, in some respects, he'd made the right decision. Lex had consciously made his own choices and, while they'd been augmented by the betrayals and hurts that he'd suffered over the years, he'd still ultimately made them on his own. Clark had been wrong to condemn him, yes, because he didn't have that right--not when he made so many mistakes himself--but neither did he have to take responsibility for the behavior of someone else.

Lana wasn't any different. She hadn't wanted to be saved--she'd only wanted the attention. She'd wanted to feel as if she mattered. That wasn't Clark's responsibility. Like Lex, Lana had made her own decisions.

Like Lex, Lana had to accept the consequences.

Lex had lost Clark because of some of the decisions that he'd made in the past. Clark hadn't been capable of accepting Lex's less-than-ethical methods. By giving in to his own darkness, Lex had lost something that he valued. The consequences wouldn't be the same for Lana, but Lex was damn well going to make sure that there were consequences.

No one fucked with him like that and got away with it.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Grinning, Lex leaned back in his office chair. He'd been waiting for this visit--had even been looking forward to it. "You're a smart girl, Lana. I'm sure you've figured it out."

"There's a lot I've figured out in the past few days, Lex," she spat, her eyes dark with hatred. It was almost frightening to see the intensity of her emotions. Lex hadn't realized before just how deep they ran within her.

"Fingerprints were found inside my safe. Unfortunately, your fingerprints weren't in the database for comparison so, when the police ran a scan, nothing turned up. But when I ran the scan, it was a perfect match. The Daily Planet was just a convenient drop-off point for the information."

"You gave them your test results?" she demanded, moving closer the desk. Her entire body was rigid with anger, but Lex only leaned back and smirked. There was nothing she could do to touch him anymore. Her credibility had been destroyed, and anything else she said against him in the future would be considered the ravings of a jealous ex.

Lex nodded and confirmed her supposition. "Yes. I never actually gave them your name, but it wasn't hard for them to make the connection. The man I sent to hand over the tip was an anonymous source, but when he went to the Planet, they accepted his information without question. When he told them that your fingerprints would be exact matches to those found in my safe, they looked into it. Face it, Lana: no one will believe you're innocent. You have the motive and the means to have done this, and no one is going to believe otherwise."

Lana flushed in chagrin, and that provided Lex greater pleasure than it probably should have. After everything she'd done, it felt good to know that he was getting to her in return. She deserved this, not only because she'd tried to ruin him, but because she'd gone after Clark, as well.

Clark.

Clark had no idea that Lex had dropped off that information. He probably would have told Lex not to if he'd known. Still, he almost seemed relieved that Lana's credibility had been shredded. There was no way to deny everything he and Lex had done--they weren't trying, anyway--but it certainly seemed to make the story less sensational and more annoying when it was presented by a jealous, vengeful ex who hadn't had all her facts straight.

"You were having sex with an underage boy."

"The photos you gave to the press were of Clark in his sophomore year. He was sixteen then. Unquestionably over the age of consent as I'm sure you must recall."

Clearly furious, Lana compressed her lips into a thin line. "But you were sleeping with him before then."

"Prove it."

She wouldn't be able to. The photos she'd sent to the press were the first set that he'd taken of himself and Clark--there was nothing to find before then. No one would be able to prove anything. There would always be some speculation, but Lex was positive that there wasn't a shred of evidence.

"What did you do to him, Lex?"

"Clark?" he asked, genuinely surprised. He'd anticipated protests from Lana, but he hadn't expected her to think that he'd coerced Clark into anything.

"He was a good kid. He liked girls. How the hell did you get him into bed with you? What did you do? Blackmail him?"

Immediately, Lex felt a spark of anger fan into a flame inside of him. He'd never forced Clark to sleep with him. Everything they had done had resulted from Clark's own decisions--Lex hadn't forced him to do anything.

"He made a hick kid like me feel special."

Clark.

Damn, but he always had been good at making spectacular--and often unexpected--entrances. Maybe that was why Clark had always intrigued Lex--he'd kept Lex off balance and had certainly never left him feeling bored.

Lana's eyes narrowed as Clark left his position in the doorway and entered the room. Impossible as it seemed, she looked just as angry with him as she had been at Lex. "That's funny, Clark. I'd never have thought you were the type to spread your legs because someone made you feel like you mattered."

"He did matter--he still does," Lex snapped, pushing his chair back and standing up. "You should know that by now, Lana. You would know that, if you weren't so bent on thinking otherwise."

"Why should I believe that someone like him," she asked bitterly, nodding in Clark's direction, "means anything to a billionaire like you?"

Lex shrugged. "Why shouldn't you? I've slept with some of the most attractive people in the world. If I had just been after him for looks, I could have choosen from a million people over eighteen whose fathers didn't own a shotgun--or who just didn't care. Clearly, there must have been something more."

It was a little heartbreaking to see the look of surprise that bloomed over Clark's face. Maybe, Lex realized, he should have worked a harder at making sure Clark knew just how special he'd been. He'd just always assumed that Clark had known--had seen it in the way Lex acted. But Clark was Clark, after all, and the boy always had been less than perfect when it came to reading people.

"Lana, it doesn't matter anymore," Clark said slowly, stopping Lex from replying. "Why would it matter to you anyway? He and I weren't sleeping together when I dated you, and we weren't sleeping together when Lex dated you."

"But you would have liked to have been, wouldn't you?"

There was that hate again. Pure, raw anger, turned into something more dangerous. That, Lex realized, was what it was all about for her. She felt that she'd been cheated out of her chance with either of them because they'd wanted each other instead of her.

Oddly, Lex thought she was probably right.

"But we weren't. We weren't the first people in the world to not be completely over an ex, and we won't be the last," Clark informed her, visibly trying to remain calm and reasonable. He succeeded in keeping his tone even, but his eyes displayed every last one of his emotions as effectively as if he'd held a neon sign. "I'm sorry that you got caught in that awkward situation, but I'm not going to apologize for something I never did--that Lex never did."

"And all the years in high school when you pretended to want me?" she demanded, moving closer to Clark. "What about that?"

"It wasn't a pretense. I did like you. I just didn't know what I wanted. I was sleeping with Lex, but I wanted to date you. Everything was confusing, and you were something normal, something that I thought I should want. I didn't understand what was happening, so it was easier to avoid it--to not think about it."

"Yes, at the expense of everyone else."

Irritation sparked inside of Lex. What right did she think she had to pass judgment on them? "Your moral high ground was flooded months ago, Lana," he snapped, drawing the attention away from Clark and to himself. That was fine--that was the way he preferred it. "You went sneaking around my mansion, broke into my private safe, stole pictures, blackmailed me with them, and then sent them to the press. Why would you believe that you have the right to ridicule Clark for being confused?"

"I never meant to hurt you," Clark offered. Lex both hated and loved the sincerity that he saw there. Lana didn't deserve an apology, but this was his Clark, gentle and forgiving and generously accepting the blame, even for things that weren't necessarily his fault.

"But you did," she snapped, turning away from both of them and heading for the door. It was clearly meant to be a dramatic exit, but Lex found himself smirking at the absurdity of it. Clark was just as good at walking out on him, but he at least was able to pull off the righteous indignation when he did it. She simply looked angry at having lost the battle.

"Lana."

She paused at the door, and Lex couldn't deny the pleasure he felt at knowing that, even now, she recognized him as a formidable opponent, enough so that she wouldn't simply ignore him. "If you're walking out that door, it had better be to pack your bags.

It was incredibly rewarding to see her stiffen, even if it was brief. Looking livid, she turned back around to face him. "Excuse me?"

"Go back to Paris, Lana. Or somewhere else, for all I care. I just don't want you here."

Her eyes darkened. "You can't do that."

"Earlier, you were planning to take my money and leave--after you released the pictures to the press."

"Lex--" Clark's voice cut in, but Lex ignored him, his eyes locked with Lana's. She wasn't a pushover, but neither was she playing at his level. She thought she was, and that might have been her greatest weakness.

Normally, Lex would have let him speak, but this wasn't Clark's fight. Those pictures had been Lex's, and maybe that was what he was most angry about. He hadn't wanted to share Clark with the world like that. Those pictures had been his and his alone. Lana certainly hadn't deserved to see them, let alone the general public.

"If you leave, I won't do anything to you, which, quite frankly, is a gift. Theft is still a crime in the United States, as is blackmail." Smirking, he nodded towards the door. "Trust me. You'd be better off not making a fuss."

In all honesty, it was so much more than she deserved and, if it had been Lex's decision, she wouldn't have received that generous a reprieve. His leniency was for Clark's sake--not for her. Clark wouldn't want her harmed, and Lex knew that, if he wanted Clark, he had to respect his feelings on the matter.

Indirectly, Clark was saving Lana again.

"Someday, Lex, you're going to get what's coming to you."

Lex sincerely hoped not, because what he deserved was something much worse than what he'd been fortunate to receive. But, as he watched Lana storm out of his study, slamming the doors behind her, he found that it was hard to respect the warning, given its source.

"She's wrong, you know."

Clark Kent, sweet voice of reason, most assuredly about to spout a righteous saying. Lex wasn't sure how, even if Clark's platitudes were still annoying, he'd been lucky enough to get a second chance with Clark.

"A wise saying of Jonathan Kent won't help here, Clark," Lex sighed as he closed his eyes. He thought that maybe he needed a nap.

Make that a year-long sleep.

"Would the truth?"

Lex couldn't hold back the inevitable tensing of his body. The truth and Clark were always ... touchy subjects that Lex was never quite able to let go. Clark's secrets, no matter how much Lex cared for the man himself, would always be a sore spot between them.

Lex would always want the answers.

"If I thought you were truly going to give it," Lex cautiously granted.

The feeling of Clark's body molding to his back should have been a startling, but it somehow wasn't. Lex was too ready to feel it--craved it too much--to be too surprised.

When Clark began speaking, his voice was low and soft in Lex's ear. "When I was fifteen, a maniac in a Porsche ran me over..."

Truth, Lex decided, was a powerful turn-on. Truth and Clark combined was downright irresistible. After everything he'd done--all the different methods he'd tried to find the answers--they all had ended up feeling superfluous and completely wasteful. With Clark lying in bed next to him, asleep in his arms, it couldn't be anything else.

Clark was asleep, completely willing to be Lex's personal playground--not that he hadn't already been that all evening. As much as finally hearing the truth had aroused Lex, Clark had been just as happy to reap the benefits. There was really nothing like having Clark give up the secrets that Lex had been seeking for years while he fucked Clark into the next week.

Clark was an alien. He was a super-powered alien, adopted at two years of age by a farmer and his wife, allergic to the green meteor rocks, the last survivor of his planet, and he loved Lex Luthor. It should have been unbelievable.

It wasn't.

Nothing was when it came to Clark.

"You look like you're thinking pretty hard."

Clark's amused voice startled Lex, and he glanced down, smiling softly when he saw Clark peering up through dark lashes, his eyes half-lidded with sleep. "Thinking is what I do, Clark," he replied, brushing a kiss into Clark's hair. "And you've given me a lot to think about. I'm still processing."

"What do you mean?" Clark asked, his brow wrinkling. He looked worried and, though it was almost imperceptible, he tensed slightly in Lex's arms. Too many rejections and bad reactions over the years, Lex guessed, though he'd confirm that later. "I thought you said everything was okay--"

Lex didn't want to listen to his unfounded worries. It was easier to silence them with a kiss. "It is," he gently assured Clark once he'd broken away. "It really is."

Sighing, Clark rolled off Lex and onto his own pillow, hunching his back and hiding his face. "I did want to tell you earlier, you know. I just--it never quite seemed like the right time."

It was an effort for Lex to bite his tongue and not comment on how any of the various times they'd had sex would have been a great opportunity, but he managed not to. He had Clark's secrets. More importantly, he had Clark. Sharp comments would only push them apart again.

"I'm glad you finally did."

"Yeah," Clark agreed quietly, rolling back over to grin at Lex. Humor sparked in his green eyes as he added, "But I'm not letting you take pictures any more." A smile looked so wonderful on Clark. It was almost brighter than the sun, and Lex found it every bit as warm. Its joy was contagious, and he found himself grinning along with Clark.

"No, no more pictures."

There would be no more pictures, but Lex couldn't force himself to regret taking the originals. The outcome had been rocky, but if he hadn't had those photos, Clark would have likely stayed away forever. Media catastrophes aside, those pictures had brought Clark back to him.

And they'd helped him achieve some pretty good climaxes during the time Clark had been gone.

"As long as I have the real thing, Clark, I don't need the pictures."

Clark's smile grew. "Sell your camera--I'm not leaving."

That, Lex thought, might not be such a bad idea. He didn't need more pictures--he had Clark, and that was better than any glossy photograph. Of course, that didn't mean he was burning the copies he already had.

To be perfectly honest, he thought he just might frame them.

Epilogue

It had taken Lex months to select the perfect frame. In the end, he'd settled on one made of sterling silver, simple and elegant, very much his style. It wasn't overly large--just big enough to sit on his desk in his home office.

Of all the photos Lana had sent to the newspaper, Lex had selected the tamest one--the one he'd always liked the best. It was simply him and Clark, in bed--Clark asleep in his arms. It wasn't all about sex, but it certainly hinted that they'd had it. More than that, it spoke volumes about their intimacy and trust. Clark had drifted to sleep against him during one of those times that they'd shared a bed for more than sex.

More importantly, it reminded him that those times weren't just in the past. That same sort of intimacy existed between them again, possibly even more than it had before.

This time, Lex wasn't letting it go.