None So Blind (See What You Want to See Remix)
Remix Author: CJ
Original Story: Love Isn't Blind by Henry Jones Jr.
Summary: There will always be people that just won't see the truth until they are forced to.
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Smallville
Spoilers: AU from the middle of 'Whispers'
It had only been a month.
Less - twenty-eight days, dammit!
Lex watched as CNN kept their cameras focused - or tried to, anyway - on a bright red and blue clad figure that was diving repeatedly into the liquid earth that had swallowed half a town and a popular resort hotel on the island of Kyushu in Japan.
When Lex couldn't stand any more of the images of sobbing bystanders and mothers screaming for Superman to find their children, he went into the kitchen and poured himself another coffee without turning on the lights. He knew where everything was and could find the mugs, coffeepot, and sugar by touch alone. He made sure everything was back in its place before he returned to the living room to watch the continuing coverage of Superman's first international rescue.
It was also the Man of Steel's first encounter with a foe bigger than himself: Mother Nature.
God. Clark wouldn't be able to save them all, and Lex honestly didn't know what that would do to him.
No lights were on in the living room. Shadows staggered across the walls as Lex stared at the screen. Superman's colors were becoming more and more muted now, overwhelmed by the mud.
And the blood.
Lex felt in his pocket for his communications link, knowing it wasn't going to ring yet, but that it would eventually. It looked exactly like his old cell phone. He wondered if that were the reason Clark had insisted on this design?
A symbol.
A promise.
Dammit.
He'd thought they'd have more time.
*~*~*~*~*
ring
"Clark? Where are you?"
"I couldn't get to them all, Lex."
"I know."
"I heard them, but I couldn't get to them all."
"Are you okay to fly?"
"I'm fine! Don't worry, I'm not going to go back to Smallville and hide in my room."
"I didn't mean that. I was just- I knew this would be hard for you. That's all."
"Sorry."
"Come home."
"Yeah, I could use some sleep. I'm on my way."
"Hey!"
"Yeah?"
"You did your best."
"Right. I know. I've just got to get used to it. I knew it could happen. Just like you said. I just..."
"Come home."
*~*~*~*~*
The office was usually dead quiet except for static from the police scanner and the hum of computers left on all night. There was a vague sense that the air ought to smell of cigars and ink, even though it had been fifteen years since the building had gone smoke free, and almost that long since the very last Selectric typewriter had been retired.
Jimmy sometimes sacked out on the couch in Perry White's office. Not every night. Only when he'd been out all day with Lois and then had to go on the night shift. Of course, that had been every night for a while after Lois's new partner came on the scene.
It was like a special extra credit assignment from Perry. "Take him around, kid, make sure he's comfortable with everything and settled in. If there are issues, I want to hear about them first, understand? I don't want to get it from HR or the damn legal department."
Riiight. Like Clark was the kind of guy to sue first and ask questions later. -Not.
Clark was easy to work with, once you got used to him - and the way he took Collette to the bathroom with him, which was something Jimmy had just never thought about and, honestly? It had freaked him out the first time. But Collette was a good dog, and didn't do anything strange in the bathroom. Not that he'd thought she would, but- taking your dog into the bathroom with you? Weird.
Anyway, Lois, not Clark, was the one that was always busting Jimmy's ass for coffee, donuts, and pictures.
And not the interesting kind.
Superman pics. That was all she wanted. Big Blue had shown up a few weeks after Clark had started work, so Jimmy was still making a threesome with them on a frequent basis.
Not that like that, of course, because Clark was a guy and Lois was just scary.
But Jimmy was the one with the camera, so whenever Primary-Color-Man showed up and stopped a robbery or whatever, Lois was screaming for pics. She'd gotten Jimmy so distracted that he'd lost Clark in the crowd on a number of occasions.
The Chief had really chewed his ass on that. Even though Clark would show up fine later and insist that he didn't need a babysitter.
But, hey, the babysitter gig wasn't Clark's call or Jimmy's, and the overtime was sweet, especially since he could sack on Perry White's couch during his regular night shift.
'Cause, you know, night desk at The Daily Planet wasn't the most interesting or exciting position on staff.
Except for when it was.
"I want some goddamn details, is what I want! And I want them goddamned NOW!"
Jimmy made himself very busy at his desk, and fervently thanked his guardian angel for having inspired him to play Doom on the network servers that evening, rather than sleep in the Chief's office.
"I don't care who you have to wake up, you get me someone who can get some answers out of Tokyo, and I don't mean just reading the blurb from Reuters - DO-I-MAKE-MYSELF-CLEAR?"
Perry didn't actually throw the phone across the room, so Jimmy figured things could be worse.
"OLSEN! Get in here!"
Or not.
"Yeah, Chief?"
Jimmy hung back near the door, not so much out of fear as claustrophobia. Perry White was a big man, and on a good day and it usually felt like he was taking up half of any given room. On a night like this, his annoyance filled the other half.
"Lane and Kent. Call 'em. Get 'em in here." Perry ordered as he paced back and forth behind his gunmetal-grey desk. "He's Metropolis's newest favorite son, and I'll be goddamned if we are going to get scooped by the damn Mainichi Shimbun!"
"Yes, sir!" Jimmy controlled the urge to salute because, really? Not a good idea.
So not.
He just scrambled back to his desk and started dialing.
*~*~*~*~*
The wind whispered around him and his cape snapped in the turbulence created by his passage through the otherwise still night air.
Read outs floated in his mind: altitude, air speed, and distance to Metropolis. There were other info-feeds from the AI that he could access with a thought.
Clark ignored them.
He scratched behind his ear where he knew the implant was, even though he really couldn't feel it. There wasn't even a scar where the AI had placed the tiny button just under his skin.
He flew like he'd taught himself, long before he'd found the AI or put on the suit with the sensor array in the chest plate. He listened to quality of the wind, the hum of distant engines, the sway of the trees below. He gave himself the freedom and speed that were nearly impossible on the ground. Even with Super-hearing he couldn't keep track of everyone and everything. There were so many objects and people that needed to be accounted for.
People who broke so easily.
People that needed him and screamed his name, or at least what they thought was his name.
Superman.
Suupaa-man! Tasukete! Tasukete!
They screamed until the mud filled their mouths or a slide of earth crushed their chests.
Clark! Oh, God, Clark where are you, man?
The sound of ribs breaking was the same in any language.
But this was different.
Or maybe the same.
He'd tried his best to save everyone, just like he'd tried his best to save Pete. And maybe his best hadn't been enough then, and maybe it still wasn't enough now, but he had saved some people.
His best was getting better, even though it would probably never be enough.
Lex's voice pulled him back from his memories as it had many times before. Clark homed in on it, paying attention to the air traffic patterns over Metropolis and then accessing the chest plate's telemetry, fed directly into his brain by the little button of Kryptonian technology that the AI had devised to approximate sight. Viewing the schematic of the balcony, Clark ducked down to land gently on the tiles. The chest plate's sensors did make some things a lot easier.
Lex was on the phone.
The regular phone.
"I am not waking him up. He's had a fever of 104 and he's just gotten to sleep. He is far too ill to come into work in the middle of the night and you are just going to have to take my word for it."
"I really think he'd want you to wake him up. And I can't take your word for him being sick when I don't even know who you are."
"I told you. I'm his roommate. He's sick. I'm not waking him. Deal with it."
Clark walked one, two, three, four steps to the sliding glass door and reached for the handle that schematics and memory both located for him.
He heard a shifting on the carpet, and then the jingle of dog tags as Collette came bounding up, whuffling in annoyance that he'd gone out without her. He smiled for the first time all night and reached down to pet her head.
"Well, thanks to you, he's awake now." Lex said. "Clark I know you aren't feeling well, but it's your work calling."
"It's okay." Clark held out his hand and the receiver was placed in it, the plastic still warm from Lex's touch.
He coughed and tried to make himself sound both sleepy and ill. "This is Clark Kent."
"Hey, Clark. I'm really sorry to be calling you like this, but there was this major mudslide that went down in Kooshee, Japan-"
"Kyushyu."
"Huh? Oh, did you see it on TV?"
Damn.
"Uh, yeah. I had a hard time getting to sleep earlier." He added another cough. The tired part wasn't an act, though.
"Oh, yeah, your roommate said, and, hey - you know he's not the friendliest guy, Clark."
Lex's hands were on Clark's shoulders, releasing the cape, and stroking over his back. Clark leaned into the touch.
"He's not so bad once you get to know him, Jimmy."
Lex snorted and Clark felt the puff of breath across his neck. He smiled.
"Uh huh. Anyway, the Chief wants you in ASAP. Lois, too. He wants you two to work on this with the guys at the Tokyo desk to come up with a piece for a special edition. Maybe see if you can get another interview with Supes on what it was like, and why he's gone international, you know? That kind of thing."
What it was like?
Clark smelled the wet earth mixed with sewage and blood. He heard a femur crack and felt shards of bone sticking through delicate skin.
It wasn't a lie when he said, "I think I'm going to throw up-"
He sat down hard in the middle of the floor. A hand plucked the receiver from his numb fingers while another hand pushed his head between his knees.
"Right," Lex's voice took on that steel quality that made Clark want to reach out and touch him to be sure he was still skin over muscle and bone. "I have to clean up vomit now. Thank you. Let me say again that Clark is not coming into work. If you call again I will sue you for harassment."
There was a click.
"You can't threaten to sue every time work calls." Clark said to the floor, his voice sounding hollow in the space between his knees.
"Hey, I think it's worked pretty well so far."
And then Lex was there, everywhere: his hands undoing the hidden fasteners and removing the suit, with all the mud and blood; his lips brushing over Clark's temple; his arms around Clark's shaking shoulders, even though Clark was trying tell him he was okay.
They made it to the shower and then to bed. Clark was never sure exactly how. When he woke up the next day he could feel Lex awake and tense beside him. So he rolled over, nuzzled in under Lex's chin and said, "You know, I'm still not feeling all that well."
"Do you want to stay in today?"
Lex was the master of the neutral voice, but Clark heard all the fears underneath the question.
"I want to call in to work, and spend the day with you." He kissed the pulse-point just under Lex's jaw as it jumped along going a mile a minute. "But I don't need to stay inside. We could go flying later. Just us."
"It's been a while since we did that."
Clark reached up and traced his fingers over Lex's smile.
Lois was going to give him hell, but it was worth it to feel Lex melt into his touch, soft and hard in all the right places.
*~*~*~*
The apartment building, ten stories looming over more suburban-type housing, was on the west side of metropolis. It was done in that tannish-pink urban-renewal color that had been so popular about ten years ago, and the façade was a model of tacky meets bland.
Building security was non-existent, Lois noticed, as she tailgated in behind some tenant that didn't even bother to ask her who she was there to see.
Lois checked her hair and make up in the chrome of the elevator doors as she rode up to the second floor. Not that Clark was in a position to appreciate it, but Lois liked to look her best just in case. You never knew when an interview was going to fall into your lap. She was thirty years old and rising fast because she always took advantage of her opportunities.
And something told her Clark Kent was an opportunity.
She just hadn't figured out what kind yet.
Of course, she hadn't quite seen it that way when he'd been assigned as her partner. She remembered railing at Perry: I do not want to be one half of your equal-opportunity-employer propaganda display!
That had gotten her exactly nowhere.
It wasn't that she had anything against the disabled, but being around Clark was kind of creepy, especially at first. She'd catch herself nodding or making hand gestures, and then realize it was pointless with Clark. He always looked like he could see right through her, and she felt like she always had to be thinking about him when she worked with him.
Lois really wasn't used to thinking of anyone but herself. There was a reason she didn't even have a cat to go home to.
When Perry had first told her about him, Lois hadn't believed that Clark could do the job, but she had to admit that he was good. He was fantastic at research, held his own in interviews, and wrote great copy. If Clark couldn't keep up with all the legwork their stories sometimes required, well- that just left Lois more room to maneuver. All in all, he was a much better partner than she'd thought he would be.
Which is why she found herself standing outside of apartment 208, ready to see exactly how bad the situation was that had kept Clark home from work for the last two days during one of the biggest Superman stories to break since the Man of Steel's first appearance a month ago.
He could have fallen and injured himself, or someone might have mugged him, and he'd be too stubborn and independent to ask for help. The big city could be a dangerous place for normal people. For Clark, it was no doubt full of dangers she wasn't even aware of.
She knocked.
The door opened.
The man who opened it was not Clark Kent.
He was thinner: clinging black track pants hung off his hips, revealing defined muscles and an intriguing path of red-gold hair stretching down from his bellybutton. He was shirtless, revealing a body that no business suit could fully do justice to. He was bald with a smoothness that could not be achieved by shaving one's head.
He was Lex Luthor.
"Hey, Johnnie, you made good-" He stopped rooting around in his wallet and his eyes traveled up from Lois's pumps to her skirt, to her blouse, to her face, and grinned. "You're not Johnnie."
"You're Lex Luthor!"
The grin fled like it had never been there. "Can I help you?"
"Clark. Clark Kent. Where is he?" She could get a coherent sentence out. She was a reporter, dammit. She had a list of fifteen key questions to ask Lex Luthor if she ever met him, and 'Where is Clark Kent?' wasn't one of them!
She could ask about why he had sold off his LuthorCorp shares, or she could ask about the closed hearings regarding his mental competence that had been instigated by his father three times in the last six years.
She could ask him what the hell he was doing here.
Although seeing how Luthor's face had darkened at the mention of her partner, maybe questions about Clark were worth adding to the list.
"Clark is out."
She thought about how Clark got lost in crowds, how she and Jimmy had to keep an eye on him every second or he'd end up turned around and stuck in a broom closet. "Clark doesn't just go out on his own. What have you done with him? And why are you here in his apartment half naked?"
"You're Lois Lane, aren't you?" He was smirking and giving her another once over. "Clark said you had about as much respect for him as you would for a three-year-old trying to cross the street by himself."
"You didn't answer my question."
"And I don't intend to. If you want to talk to Clark you'll have to come back later."
He swung the door shut and Lois tried the old trick of shoving her foot in between the door and jamb, forgetting that she was only wearing a pair of Nine West pumps.
As the heavy fire door slammed into her foot, she screamed.
Luthor hurriedly pulled open the door.
"Fuck! Are you insane?"
"Isn't that what everyone asks you?" She ground the words out over the pain.
He scowled at her as she leaned against the wall, standing on one foot and trying to see if she could still move her toes on the other.
She hissed. Fuck, that really hurt.
"I guess you better come in." Luthor opened the door a little wider and helped her over to the couch.
Lois took in all the details she could see and filed them for later. There were the plain white walls and dingy white linoleum, the complete lack of mirrors, and the little tray divided into small boxes that sat on the table in the foyer. The tray sorted everything one might find in one's pockets at the end of the day: keys, candy, and small change sorted by denomination.
The kitchen was visible through a little archway and was classically ugly in that avocado and harvest gold kind of way. Lois controlled a shudder. The 70s had been a terrible thing.
There were more organizers of various sizes in the kitchen, and aside from a few dishes in the sink, nothing was left out to chance. There were notes stuck to the fridge, and Lois cursed that she still hadn't learned Braille. Not that she was close enough to read anything of course.
"I'll get you some ice." Luthor said after depositing her on the couch.
"Thanks!" She smiled brightly.
Luthor frowned.
As soon as he'd turned away, she continued her survey of the apartment: the living room-dining room area was painfully neat. The faded blue carpet was clean. There was a box of dog toys and two bookcases of CDs. At least half of them looked like audiobooks. One wall was taken up by the kind of stereo equipment Lois was pretty sure cost as much as a full year's rent on this apartment.
There was a small TV off in the corner, almost like an after thought, which would make sense if Clark lived here alone. Maybe Luthor was just a visitor?
The place was as compulsively neat as Clark's desk. In fact, the only messy thing in the whole apartment, as far as Lois could see, was the coffee table. It was covered in papers, a couple of binders, and a laptop.
An open laptop.
She shifted over on the couch--ending up in front of the laptop completely by accident, of course--and tried to get a peek at what Luthor was writing, but she barely caught a glimpse of the screen before Luthor returned. He was wearing a large, red t-shirt with the words Smallville High Crows in yellow across the front, and was carrying an ice bag.
"If you want me to forward you a copy of that report, I will," Luthor said smoothly, gesturing at the laptop before handing her the ice bag.
Lois didn't deny that she was snooping. "Tell me what it's about and maybe I'll accept the offer."
A corner of Lex's mouth quirked. "It's the progress report for the LexCorp Plant in Smallville. Crap is doing amazingly well this quarter. You should think about investing."
"So this would be the factory you started LexCorp with? The factory that led to your father calling your competency into question?" Lois figured she better get her questions in while she could.
"I didn't invite you in to give an interview, Ms. Lane."
"It may not be an interview, but I'm still waiting to hear what crap you're going to shovel at me to explain why you're in Clark's apartment, Mr. Luthor. And where is Clark?" She tried to balance the ice bag on her foot, gritting her teeth at the pain but not letting it color her voice. She was an investigative journalist; she was used to getting scraped up in pursuit of a story. She'd just have to wear comfortable shoes over the next few days.
If she could find any.
"Clark is out," Luthor said, taking pity on her and placing a pillow under her foot to help prop up the ice bag. "And it's none of your business why I'm here."
Lois' nose twitched. She smelled a story with a capital 'S,' and it wasn't even Superman, this time. "Clark never mentioned he knew you."
"Fishing for information won't work, Ms. Lane," Luthor said, staring blandly at her. "I'll be sure to tell Clark that you came by. Can I call someone to come and pick you up?"
Lois heard a key in the door, made a final adjustment to the icebag, leaned back on the couch, and smiled smugly. "That's okay. I'll tell Clark myself."
Luthor did not look happy. He walked quickly to the door as it opened. "Clark-"
"Hey, gorgeous." Clark Kent, in jeans and a blue flannel shirt, shouldered in through the door managing to hold a couple of bags of what looked like Chinese takeout as well as keeping a grip on his keys and his dog Collette's harness. He pushed one of the bags at Luthor as he came into the apartment, and ran his newly freed hand up Luthor's chest, stroking the T-shirt and dipping his fingers just under the collar. "Nice shirt. Be careful with the bag, though, I think the soup is leaking."
"Clark, we have company," Luthor said.
Clark froze, and did that sniffing thing that Lois hated. It made her seriously consider giving up perfume. Almost.
"Lois?"
"If you've had a cold, it sure hasn't affected your sense of smell, Smallville," Lois said in lieu of hello.
Luthor took the second bag from Clark and went into the kitchen. Clark stopped at the table in the foyer and put his keys and the change he was carrying into the little tray. He let Collette off her harness with a pat and a soft word and then entered the living room. "Wh-what are you doing here?"
"At the moment I'm nursing a crushed foot here on your couch, but my original intent was to make a house call," Lois said. "Perry wants the latest on Superman, only there doesn't seem to be any latest. I'm trying to do both the on-line research and the leg work on what happened to Superman after the mudslide Japan and not getting damn far, my partner has been gone two days in a row, and when I manage to get an answer at said partner's apartment, I find the Lex Luthor half-naked in his apartment."
"Half-naked?" Clark turned towards the kitchen, raised his voice. "You answered the door half-naked?"
It figured that would be the part of her story that Clark latched on to.
"I thought she was Johnny," Luthor said, unpacking a bag of Chinese food.
"I'm glad I met Johnny in the hall, then," Clark returned his attention to Lois. "Sorry, Lois. I was, um, sick until yesterday and am kind of playing hooky today. I didn't mean to worry you."
"I wasn't worried," Lois said. "I wanted to know when you were coming back. We have work to do, crime and corruption to expose and, if we're lucky - Superman to interview." She leaned over slightly to look around Clark at Lex. "Although you seem to be harboring almost as big a story right here."
"Lex is not a story. He's my boyfriend."
Lois' chin snapped up and she stared wide-eyed at Clark. "He's your what? "
Clark scratched the back of his head and shrugged sheepishly. "My boyfriend. He lives here. With me."
Lois gawked at Clark. She couldn't believe it. "The Lex Luthor is your boyfriend."
"Uh, yes?" Clark said tentatively. "He is. I'm gay."
"Of course you're gay." Lois grabbed Clark's wrist and yanked him onto the couch beside her. "But why didn't you tell me the Lex Luthor was your boyfriend?"
Clark carefully freed his wrist. "You never asked if I was attached or not."
"That's because I didn't think someone like the Lex Luthor would saddle himself with someone who can barely take care of himself."
"Oh, well, that makes sense," Clark said.
"It certainly does not," Luthor stated, glaring at Lois as he returned from the kitchen. "And I'd appreciate it, Ms. Lane, if you would not insult Clark. The Lex Luthor happens to think that he is the lucky one to have Clark Kent taking care of him."
"Lex..." Clark blushed, ducked his head, and smiled bashfully.
"How the hell did you hook Lex Luthor, Clark?" Lois wanted to know, because it really wasn't a possibility. Clark was an utter dweeb. He wore dark glasses straight out of a Fifties B-movie, even though Lois didn't think he actually needed them. He dressed like he was wearing someone else's suits at work, and straight-off-the-farm in his off-hours, had horrible posture, dragged his feet when he walked, and bumped into everything, even with Collette to lead him around.
Her gaze sharpened suddenly. "You're Luthor's dirty little secret, aren't you? That's why you're living here instead of some penthouse on First Avenue, so no one finds out."
"Ms. Lane-!"
Clark reached up to take Luthor's hand, interrupting the start of what would probably have been an impressive - and quotable - tirade. "One, that wasn't very nice. Two, our relationship is not a secret, but that doesn't mean we want it publicized. And three, it's my choice that we live here, and Lex only complains when the elevator isn't working and I'm not here to help lug Collete's 40 pound bag of dog food up the stairs."
Lois didn't like being scolded. "You still didn't tell me how you two got together," she said defensively.
Clark got an odd smile on his face. "Lex rescued me from a linen closet."
"Hunh. Why am I not surprised."
Oops. Did she say that out loud?
From the ice in Luthor's eyes, it was apparent that she had, indeed, lost the filter between her brain and her mouth. Not that she had ever used it much.
"Ms. Lane, I think it's time you leave."
"How am I going to get home? I can't drive with my foot like this!"
"I'll call you a cab."
Clark squeezed Luthor's hand. "Lex, it's okay."
"No, no it's not. You might let her get away with this shit at work, Clark, but I'm not having it in our home. I'm going to call Ms Lane a cab." He pulled his hand away from Clark and went to the kitchen, where Lois could hear him dialing.
"Sorry, Clark." Lois apologized even though she didn't think she should have to. Lex Luthor was news, and Clark - Clark was a nobody! She was in shock! Otherwise, she never would have said that out loud.
Why was Lex Luthor dating Clark Kent? Was he slumming? Did he want someone on the Daily Planet staff in his pocket? Was he thumbing his nose at women, marriage, or his father, Lionel Luthor? Or did he truly like Clark?
As she sat at on the couch waiting for the cab, she studied Clark while keeping up general conversation. Lois simply could not see someone of Lex's caliber being attracted to Clark. It was as ridiculous as... Superman being attracted to Clark.
That couldn't be his secret for getting that first interview, could it?
She looked at her partner in a speculative light. Was there something she was missing? If he stood a little straighter, brushed his hair back, and wore a suit that fit...
Well, then he wouldn't be Clark.
There was a mystery here, between Lex Luthor and Clark Kent, and Lois was going to solve it. Societal exposes weren't normally her thing, but news was news, and no one else had written about Lex's foray into homosexuality. Was this what was really behind Lionel Luthor's attempts to have his son committed? Did the old man fear for the dynasty? Clark certainly wasn't going to provide Lex Luthor with any heirs.
She was itching to snoop for real news. The apartment was probably stuffed with leads regarding crime or corruption involving LexCorp or LuthorCorp.
A plan formed in her mind and she smiled to herself. She loved the scent of intrigue in the afternoon.
*~*~*~*~*
Lois's perfume lingered in the apartment long after she had gone. For the rest of the afternoon and evening, whenever Clark approached the couch or the front door, he had a moment of vertigo, as if he should be in the office instead of at home.
Her effect lingered as well.
"I can pressure White to assign you to another partner." Lex growled over lunch. "She's a complete bigot. She barely treats you with common courtesy, much less professional respect."
Clark sighed and set his chopsticks down.
"You can't keep doing this."
He heard Lex shift in his chair and scrape the bottom of a food carton with his chopsticks. The kitchen always seemed to magnify sounds.
"Lex."
"What?"
Another shift of weight, a slurp of noodles, and Clark wished he could stare Lex down, but he settled for expectant silence.
"I don't see why you want to continue working with her."
Clark shrugged. "She's very good at what she does. Our skills complement each other. And most importantly, my editor assigned me to her, and I just want to do my job. I don't want special treatment."
"She's quite unattractive."
Clark smiled. "Really?"
"Coarse hair, bad complexion, terrible teeth. Hideous, Clark, really."
"And looks matter so much to me." Clark grinned.
Lex snorted.
Clark picked up his chopsticks again and they continued eating in companionable silence for several minutes. Clark stretched his legs and brushed against Lex's.
Lex ran a bare foot up Clark's inseam until it came to rest gently, but firmly, over Clark's crotch.
Clark sighed and rocked up against the arch of Lex's foot. It felt good, like everything Lex did. It was sensual. It was hot.
It was distracting.
Clark sighed and pulled Lex foot up into his lap, rubbing the instep with the ball of his thumb.
"What's really bugging you?"
Lex groaned as Clark found a particularly sensitive spot just under his toes. When he didn't answer immediately, Clark found the same spot again. Harder.
"Okay! Okay. I just - She's so focused on Superman, but she doesn't see you. She doesn't respect you. She doesn't respect us. She thinks I'm using you and you're too stupid to see it, and it pisses me off."
Clark felt Lex shifting and picked up the other foot that settled in his lap. He continued rubbing without breaking his rhythm. "We agreed that Clark Kent has to be different enough that no one would make a connection to Superman. At least Lois is proof we're succeeding."
"I know." Lex's growl tapered off into a moan, as Clark continued the foot rub. Lex was thinking too much. A habit Clark blamed on Lionel. Lionel had never given Lex the luxury of security.
Lex moaned again. "Fuck that's good, Clark."
"Want to make the most of my last day of hooky?" Clark grinned, feeling Lex's toes curl and listening to the spike in his heartbeat.
"Yeah."
Lex pulled his foot away, scraped his chair on the linoleum as he stood and padded around the little table to take Clark's hand and pull him up into a full body embrace: feet, knees thighs, crotches, stomachs, chests, arms, mouths pressed together so that Clark had no doubt where Lex stood.
"I've got something I'd like to try, actually."
And it was Clark's turn to groan.
"Bed. Now."
Clark was glad they kept the apartment organized and arranged, it made superspeeding to the bedroom so much easier.
*~*~*~*~*
The newsroom was an ever-morphing obstacle course of bodies. Everyone was rushing to get something done, and at least half of them weren't looking where they were going. Jimmy had tried navigating it with his eyes closed once, right after Clark had come to work at the Planet. He'd gotten approximately two feet before tripping.
Clark had just smiled and said it took a lot of practice. At least Clark had Collette to help him. Jimmy figured it would be a lot harder in a place like this without Collette. If nothing else, she ran interference.
Jimmy dodged another donut cart and tried not to drop his precious cargo.
Mornings were nothing like the night shift, and while overtime was always a good thing, there was something to be said for simply learning to live within one's means rather than being the all around dogsbody to-
"Jimmy! Did you remember to get it with skim milk?"
'It' was Lois's cappuccino, which was currently balanced in his left hand, while Clark's venti dark was in his right, and his own grande chai was in the crook of his arm, and god help him if he spilled any of them on the three thousand dollar digital camera that was dangling around his neck.
"Skim milk. Got it, Lois."
"Great, just put it on my desk would you?" She gestured at the pile of papers that surrounded her computer as she was going through her purse.
There was a desk under there?
"How about I just put them both on Clark's desk?" he said, sidling over to Lois's partner.
Clark stopped typing and turned towards him almost as if he could see him. That had freaked Jimmy out the first few times, but Clark explained that it was just him being polite and following the smell of coffee.
Which was cool.
"No place to put coffee on Lois's desk?" Clark asked, sounding not snarky, but really curious.
"I guess you've never felt Lois's desk, huh?"
Clark grinned. "Noooo, but I get the impression it would be an experience."
"Piles and piles of papers, Clark." Jimmy confided in a stage whisper. "Coffee cups that have dust on the dried-up moldy coffee that's inside them, whole new life forms growing on the abandoned chicken sandwich next to the computer monitor..."
"Shut it, Olsen." Lois said without looking up.
Jimmy shrugged. "Speaking of coffee on desks, your coffee is three inches to the left of your keyboard, and Lois's is on the far left corner of your desk. Oh, and I got a treat for Collette, if that's okay?"
"Sure, Jimmy, thanks." Clark pushed his dark glasses up on his nose and reached for his coffee.
Jimmy leaned down under the desk and gave Collette her biscuit, for which he got a happy lick. As he straightened up, he saw Lois repacking her purse. He bit back a groan when he realized it was the commando-raid purse load. Diskettes, pepper spray, the lock pick kit that Lois didn't think anyone knew she had 'cause the case looked like a nail care kit, and rubber gloves.
"Lois? Um, are you going to need pictures where ever you're... going?" Read 'breaking into,' but Jimmy really liked his balls where they were and not in a jar on Lois's desk, so he wasn't going to say that.
Lois froze and glared at him. The fry-you-in-the-street-like-an-egg-in-summer glare.
Clark had stopped typing again and had his head cocked to one side. "Where are you going, Lois?"
"No place, just checking out a few leads." Lois's voice was light and breezy while she continued to glare at Jimmy. "Nothing to take pictures of. Yet."
Jimmy nodded eagerly. "Well, great just let me know whenever-"
Clark wasn't buying it.
"If this is about O'Malley's protection racket, then you should take Jimmy."
"I'm not the one that needs to be rescued from linen closets, Smallville."
Clark's mouth tightened, and Jimmy thought he was actually going to get to see Mr. Calm, Cool and Cowed lose it with his partner, but just then a CD in a clamshell case sailed over the two desks. Jimmy ducked as it just missed his head and Clark twitched as it clattered on the desk next to his hand.
"That's the recording of the Superman interview from last night. Think you can start the write up without me, Smallville?"
Clark shook his head, but picked up the disk. "Sure, Lois. Just be careful, okay?"
Lois softened ever so slightly. "I'm not going anywhere dangerous. Promise."
Jimmy snorted. "Right and your definition of dangerous would be..."
He ducked again as Lois's squishy-rubber stress ball came at his face. "I think I need to go down to and check on a lay-out...thing."
Jimmy made a hasty retreat and wondered whether he could get Perry to add hazard pay to his overtime.
*~*~*~*~*
It was just as easy to get into Clark's building the second time as it had been the first. Security here was a joke.
His apartment didn't prove much of a challenge either, and she was a bit surprised about that. Luthor should have known a thing or two about security.
The tumblers turned under Lois' skilled lock picking, and she glanced down the corridor before opening the apartment door. "Hello? Clark? Mr. Luthor?" she called, even though no one had answered her prior knock. She knew Clark was at the office, but Luthor might be here. "Hello?"
There was no reply. Lois stepped inside the apartment, closed the door, and put her lock picks away.
The laptop, files, and papers were gone from the coffee table in the living room, leaving it bare, and nothing was on the dining table except an empty napkin holder. The mail was gone from the foyer table, as well, and the little tray didn't hold anything more interesting than a book of matches for a midtown restaurant.
She headed down the short hallway to the three open doorways at the end. One door led to the bathroom, which she ignored, and the other two led to bedrooms. The bedroom on the right was as neat as a pin, a little used guest room, and Lois spared only a minute to rifle through the closet of clothes and drawers of linens.
No luck.
It was in the second bedroom that Lois struck gold. The computer drew her attention immediately, sitting on a desk in the corner of the bedroom. The long double bed was covered in twisted sheets of light blue cotton and a darker blue blanket, with two dented pillows side-by-side at the head.
Matching night tables flanked either side of the bed, each with a lamp and alarm clock. The one on the left was a Braille clock, so she figured that was Clark's side. The clock was old and pretty beat up and she was a bit surprised that he didn't have one of the newer talking clocks.
It wasn't like Luthor couldn't afford one.
A closet was set in the wall across from the bed, with a tall chest of drawers beside it. A small television/VCR combo sat on top of a DVD player on the dresser. There were also wall-mounted speakers here that were probably wired into the sound system in the living room. Next to the master bathroom were a full laundry hamper, a shoe rack, and coat rack holding two well-used flannel bathrobes. Nothing was on the floor, or scattered on the dresser. If it weren't for the unmade bed and all the clothes in the closet this might look like a guest room, as well.
Lois headed straight for the computer. She chuckled in pleasure when she found that it was on and without password protection. She removed a CD from her purse, popped it into the CD burner, and opened the backup program on the computer. Expertly, she chose the files she wanted to download and left the computer working while she opened the top drawer of the desk and dug through its contents.
There was nothing of interest, only basic office supplies. She closed the drawer and started to open the second when out of the corner of her eye she spotted a black briefcase leaning against the side of the night table partially behind her. She latched instantly onto it, setting it on the bed, and popping the open locks. Inside the briefcase were several file folders, a floppy disk, a German phrase book, and a home-burned DVD.
Curiosity sparked, Lois put the disc into the DVD player, turned on the television, and hit play. She sat on the bed, grabbed a file folder, and paged through its contents as the disc loaded. The file was a prospectus on a company in Germany, and she skimmed the pages until Clark's familiar voice snapped her head up.
"Holy -." Lois' eyes bugged. Clark Kent was undressing on the television screen. He was standing in front of the bed she was seated on, sideways to the video camera. He was wearing the same outfit he'd had on when she'd come here last time.
Clark's head was turned toward the camera, speaking to someone off screen. His dark glasses were gone, revealing stunning green-blue eyes and high cheekbones, and he took Lois' breath away. As he stripped out of his blue flannel shirt and then his jeans, he revealed a body that had no trouble matching the face.
Lois couldn't believe that all that was hidden beneath the suits and slouched posture. Talk about a stud in geek's clothing! Rippling, defined muscles, narrow waist, miles of golden skin and a sprinkling of dark hair left Lois speechless. Men weren't supposed to be beautiful, but there was no other description that would come close to fitting him.
"I can't believe you want to do this, Lex," Clark was saying. "Someone's going to find the recording and splash it all over the tabloids."
"There will be nothing done here tonight that I'll be ashamed of, Clark," Lois heard Lex Luthor say off screen. There was a brief pause before Lex added, "But if you've changed your mind..."
"No, it's not that. This just isn't something I ever thought you'd want to do. I guess we've been together long enough that I didn't think you had any new kinks to share." Clark grinned crookedly, and Lois suddenly noticed how soft and kissable his mouth looked.
He got on the bed and rolled on his side. His eyes wandered in the general direction of the camera.
"It's not so much a kink, as a memory." The camera zoom adjusted slightly. "A proof. Something I can look at when you're out and remind myself that it's all real."
"Ha! You're still thinking about what Lois said, aren't you?" Clark drawled with a smirk. The smirk faded and his brows pulled downward as the responding silence drew on. "Lex?"
"I'm fixing the camera."
"The truth, Lex-," Clark said seriously. "-is this more than just Lois?"
A brief pause, then, quietly, "Sometimes I worry it's a dream, and one of these days I'll wake up, and you'll be gone, and no one will believe we were ever together."
Clark pushed up on one elbow. "It's real, Lex. I promise."
"I know, Clark," Luthor said. "And I am the one that said we needed to stay low profile and I'm dealing with it. I'm fine -"
"Lex-" Clark extended his hand towards the camera, his eyes lost somewhere in the middle distance, "-come here."
Even after her surprise shirtless meeting with him, seeing Lex Luthor nude with Clark was a shock. He was half hard as he walked into the picture. Reddish down covered his muscular legs; his pale, firm backside dotted with freckles. Clark pulled him down on the bed and manhandled him until he was sitting on top. Luthor straddled Clark and tucked his face in the crook of Clark's neck.
Clark settled back on the pillow and began a thorough mapping of Luthor's body with his hands.
And maybe that was the bigger shock than the nudity. Luthor may have set up the camera, but it was obviously Clark calling the shots in bed. If she had thought about it at all - and Lois wasn't not going to admit that, even to herself - she would have thought that Clark would be the passive partner.
"I'm sorry I didn't get it," Clark said.
"Don't be." Luthor's voice was muffled by his position. "I have to learn to deal with this. I just worry about something happening to you. Something I won't be able to fix."
"There's nothing we can't fix together." Clark brushed a kiss on the curve of Luthor's skull. "Just don't forget to talk to me about it, okay? That's what -"
Luthor raised his head and smiled softly. "That's what the phone is for. I remember."
Clark sat up and caught Luthor's mouth in a tender kiss. Lois had never seen Lex Luthor appear so vulnerable, and she wasn't referring to his nudity.
And it was that last thought that stopped her from turning off the television.
He sounded so uncertain about the relationship. As if her doubt alone was enough to make him question the reality of it.
Was Lex Luthor actually mentally ill, as his father had claimed for years? Had Luthor, Sr. been telling the truths all along?
That was news in Metropolis.
Lois shook off her vague sense of guilt, and plucked another file from the briefcase. She got comfortable on the bed, leaned back against the headboard, and alternated reading and watching Clark and Luthor on the television. If she could ignore the fact that she worked with Clark almost every day, the homemade recording was like viewing really good porn, the kind with emotion and believability.
And, apparently, a story.
"Mmm," Clark hummed, tilting his head back on the pillow, exposing his throat. Luthor sucked kisses onto the golden column of Clark's neck, nibbled along his jawline, and laved the love bites with a light pink tongue. Clark's broad hands skimmed up Luthor's pale, freckled back before sliding down over the curve of his buttocks. Luthor gasped at the touch.
"Tell me, Clark," he gasped.
"Anything."
"Tell me about our first time. Remember it for me."
Luthor licked down Clark's neck, pausing to pay special attention to his collarbones before moving on to his nipples. Luthor gripped Clark's biceps, holding him captive, as his chest was mapped with tongue and teeth, and hungrily devoured. Clark moaned quietly, before responding to Luthor's request.
"I was scared. Dad had just found out about us. He was freaking. We hadn't even done anything yet."
"He took away your phone." Luthor actually sounded pretty pissed about that even though the incident must have been years ago.
"Yeah." Clark ran his hands up Luthor's back and neck and gently guided his mouth back to down. "I was ready to leave it all behind. It was just too much. But you caught me, Lex. Like you always do."
"And we flew away." Luthor pushed up until he was sitting squarely in Clark's lap, rocking into him.
"Far away." Clark agreed, as his hands followed the line up the middle of Luthor's rib cage. "And you described everything. I saw it all through your eyes."
"And you let me love you."
"Forever, Lex."
Clark sat up just enough to kiss Luthor as he groped for the tube on the night table. Finding it, Clark flipped open the cap and squeezed the clear gel on his fingers behind Luthor's back without breaking the kiss. The tube was dropped on the bed beside him, and Clark's hand curved over Luthor's ass.
Luthor broke the kiss with a gasp. Clark's free hand ran lightly over Luthor's face and a corner of his mouth curled up as he asked, "Believe me now?"
"Starting to," Luthor hissed with pleasure. He writhed against Clark, his back a concave arch, perspiration beginning to shine on his skin in the lamplight. He moaned again. "Oh, God, Clark."
"That's it, Lex." Clark whispered, the sound dancing along Lois' spine and tingling low in her belly. Never would she have thought Clark Kent could sound so sexy. The files were forgotten, her attention focused solely on the television.
Clark pulled Luthor forward and up onto his knees. Clark's fist worked his own cock's thick length in a hypnotic manner, spreading gel on thickly, as Luthor hovered over him, panting like he'd run a race.
Lois watched as Luthor sank down onto Clark's cock, their groans of pleasure filling the bedroom. Luthor rotated his hips, thigh muscles bunching, as he began to ride Clark. Clark bent his legs, pressed his feet into the mattress of the bed, and lifted his pelvis to meet each down-thrust.
"So deep...so good..."The words tumbled roughly from Clark's lips. His hands moved to span Luthor's narrow waist, helping him as he rode Clark. "Wish I could see you like this. Just like this."
Clark and Luthor's faces were flushed in arousal, features twisted in a way that would look ridiculous if their passion wasn't so clearly written in every line of their bodies. Luthor knelt up, changing the angle. An almost painful sounding moan was drawn from both of them by the move.
He licked his left palm, curled his hand around his shaft, and stroked to the rhythm of his rocking. Clark stroked his hands up and down Luthor's torso.
"Fuck, Clark," Lex muttered, and sank white, even teeth into his lower lip. He sucked in a sharp breath and held it.
Clark ran his right hand over Luthor's face, tracing every feature, every shift in expression.
"Gorgeous. You're so damn gorgeous," Clark mumbled, his other thumb caressing the sweat-slicked skin of Lex's hips.
Luthor's rhythm faltered suddenly, his hand working faster.
"God, Lex, yes." Clark gasped, his voice rough but so quiet Lois could hardly make it out. "Please. Please love me."
"Forever, Clark." Luthor got the words out and then he was coming, milky fluid shooting onto Clark's chest.
Clark whispered, "So good," and snapped his hips upward again and again, quicker and quicker. He nearly bucked Luthor off. Luthor pressed both of his palms flat against Clark's muscular chest and rode the wild thrusts, head back, mouth parted in bliss.
Stiffening abruptly, Clark pulled Luthor's ass down flush against his pelvis and let out a wordless shout. Luthor watched with heavy-lidded eyes as Clark's whole body shuddered, then went totally limp, as if his strings had been suddenly cut.
After a moment, Clark gathered Luthor to him, sinking into a deep kiss, which slowed to tender petting. Luthor's smile matched Clark's exactly, and he tucked his nose into the crook of Clark's neck as Clark gently stroked his back.
"You're the most real thing in my life," was the last thing Lois heard before shutting off the television.
There had been nothing definite. Nothing that couldn't be explained as lovers' hyperbole. But flying? Asking your lover to 'remember' for you?
Lois shook her head and started packing up.
This wasn't a story.
And she hoped to god it never became one.
*~*~*~*
Clark stopped typing and sniffed as she walked past.
"Hey, Lois." Clark shoved his sliding dark glasses up his nose and smiled in her general direction as she sank into her desk chair. "How was your morning?"
"Enlightening," Lois replied. She dropped her purse on the desk, temporarily ignoring the minor bits of LexCorp information she'd found at Clark's apartment in favor of asking, "How long have you and Luthor been together?"
Clark appeared surprised by her question. "A long time. Since before I moved here. Why?"
"Just curious," Lois said. "You two look good together."
Clark's eyebrows rose. "Two days ago, you couldn't believe a dweeb like me stood a chance with someone like Lex. What made you change your mind?"
"I guess I just wasn't seeing it, Smallville, but I think I do now," Lois answered cryptically. She grabbed her purse again and stood. "C'mon, you can buy lunch and tell me all about your boyfriend."
End
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