Fic: The Stuff of Legends
Title: Stuff of Legends
Category: fic
Rating: PG-13, language and innuendo
Word Count: 7225
Spoilers: First five seasons, or so, though the story itself diverges from canon sometime between seasons 3 and 5. Character mentions from later seasons (ie Oliver) and DCU.
Warnings: Sexual innuendo and language, no explicit acts
Notes: AU after season three. Written as a pinch-hit for the fabulous ladydreamer for the clexmas Not Another Plastix X-mas exchange and posted here. Betaed by the incredible twinsarein and tallihensia, with remaining and post-beta errors credited to me.
Prompt: mpreg or single daddy!Lex, reversed roles (ex. rich!Clark/poor!Lex or hero!Lex/citizen!Clark), or old school shenanigans.
Summary: When Clark is forced to do without his powers for a period of time, his double-life as Superman comes to a temporary stop. Interestingly, neither he nor Metropolis are left defenseless.
Clark Kent, also known as "Superman", had rescued numerous people since his costumed debut in Metropolis. In the year since, he'd had more than one woman - and man - attempt to express their gratitude physically. Clark hadn't understood why they did this; he couldn't have. He'd spent the majority of his late teens saving other people and the times when the favor was returned, the rescues were different.
No one before had ever carried him out of a burning (not actually on fire, though it felt like flames consuming him) building. Nor had they held him clasped in a grip that was firm (not as strong as his own, but still so steady) and protective. When was the last time anyone had soothed his own cries of pain (ecstasy) with a gentle (cool) touch?
In the aftermath, Clark's memories were hazy, overridden by a heightened sense of arousal and then nothing was clear until he'd woken up in Smallville. His mother had found him in the loft, alerted to his presence by the blazing of the barn lights, all of which had been on. There'd been no rescuer around to thank.
Only a small bit of evidence left behind to prove Clark hadn't saved himself. A ring on his finger that wasn't a wedding band, but represented a pledge none-the-less. A blue stone in a setting that had once housed green, the band resized to fit Clark's ring finger perfectly.
* * *
Clark paused with his left hand on the knob, conscious of the secretary behind him and the weight of her gaze. Thankfully, she didn't remind him that he had permission to enter. When he chanced a glance at her, she met his gaze with a kindly smile and the understanding of a person who has stood thus, uncertain about what she would find when the door was opened.
He doubted she'd ever viewed Lex as an enemy, though. Or faced him wearing only a thin layer of spandex as protection while Lex's voice flayed across her skin and his hate-filled eyes burned into her soul. How had he ever thought Lex oblivious?
His illusions were surely shattered. An ignorant man would not have delivered Clark into the safe-keeping of his mother; an enemy would not have saved him in the first place. And hate? Clark twisted the hand on the knob and the blue stone flashed in the light even as the door opened. He gave it a light push and then stepped into the office.
"Clark," Lex said, rising.
He'd had time to stand up before Clark entered, especially with Clark's hesitation. Clark wondered if Lex had feared appearing too eager if he was found already on his feet, obviously waiting? Or too cold, if he did not rise at all? "Sorry for coming without an appointment."
"You've never needed an appointment," chided Lex. He came around the desk and leaned against the corner. Casually, his gaze dropped to Clark's hands - now in his pockets, hidden - and then his eyes lifted again, the motion quick enough to miss, unless someone was watching. "Your mother told me you were sick, but you look well. A little tired, perhaps."
It was strange how even the simplest actions and questions took on different meanings. If Clark sat in front of the desk, Lex would be looming over him. If he stood, he'd have to explain why he wasn't taking advantage of resting his 'tired' body. And the lack of an actual question about his health was a glaring omission. When had Clark ever thought Lex subtle?
How ignorant had they both been?
With a sigh that was more genuine than feigned, Clark bypassed the desk and its set of chairs and instead dropped heavily onto the sofa. He let his arms rest on either side of him, palms up and fingers curled in loosely. Careful to keep his gaze on a spot on the floor halfway between them, Clark saw Lex stiffen. There was no easy way to tower over Clark now, but neither could they have any kind of conversation with the majority of Lex's office between them.
After a moment, Lex joined him by way of the bar. He handed Clark a bottle of water without asking and, after only a moment of hesitation, sat down beside Clark instead of taking one of the chairs that matched the sofa. He sat with his left leg drawn up on the cushions. It gave him a clear personal boundary while his body appeared open. "Are you okay?"
That was real concern and Clark allowed himself to relax as he turned his body toward Lex's, letting one arm fall along the back of couch, fingers trailing close to Lex's shoulder. "I have something to share with you."
"Not whatever bug you have, I hope." Lex opened his own water, but that was another defense mechanism; busy the hands and his mouth, the casual turn of his head as he tipped his head back to drink that caused him to incidentally - purposely - break eye contact.
"No," Clark said, giving a short laugh. He reached across the space between them and set his left hand on Lex's leg. "The kryptonite, the pink, is still in my system."
Lex's eyes dropped, the hand with the bottle lowering to his side. "The ring?"
"Works to counter the effects while I'm wearing it, but I can't take it off without-" Lex sprang off the sofa abruptly, cutting off Clark's words. Clark stayed. To stand would have been a sign of aggression and would only serve to fuel Lex's agitation. "The..." Not symptoms, it wasn't a disease. The desire, the low flood of arousal? "...signs reappear whenever I try to take it off."
Six feet and a chair separated them when Lex turned back. He hadn't managed to erase the emotions on his face or to hide their affect, but he had created a barrier of anger, one Clark could recognize now as a hastily constructed wall. "You came expecting me to fix it?"
"Yes."
* * *
Clark couldn't remember having a black eye before. He moved the ice pack enough to get a look at his shiner, then slapped it hastily back over his eye when the bathroom door opened. By the look Lex gave him, his resulting hiss and grimace of pain did not go unnoticed.
"Are you planning to hide in here all day?" There was no concern now; the flatness had returned to Lex's gaze, making it the same unemotional stare Clark had become used to in the past year.
He'd thought being honest would prevent this, but he'd forgotten. In the past, the only thing he'd been honest about was what he needed or wanted from Lex. "I'm sorry."
Lex flexed his left hand and smirked. "For what? I can say that for once, it hurt you more than me." His knuckles had already started to heal over.
When he wasn't wearing the ring, Clark could heal faster. He thought about removing it, just for a few seconds. When they'd tested it at the farm, the flood of desire was slow to rise, slow enough that he had a few seconds of control in which he could replace the ring. That would be all the time he'd need to heal, surely?
"You're a big baby," Lex chided. His voice was gentle, as gentle as the hands that pulled the ice pack away and brushed the skin around Clark's eye. "Though I have to say, it does look like it hurts."
"I think I liked it better when we were enemies," Clark muttered sarcastically.
Lex's eyes narrowed, his gaze fixed on Clark. "We were never enemies."
Clark rolled his eyes. "Lex, you spoke out against me You called for the government to come in and imprison me, and-"
"I didn't realize it was you." The words sounded full of pain and Clark could see the hurt in his eyes. "I had no reason to think this sudden alien presence was you, Clark."
The articles speaking against Superman had stopped coming, but Clark had put that on the papers, not on Lex, followed as the silence was by the sudden stockpiling of meteor rocks. "But the kryptonite?"
"Because it hurt you. It was everywhere and I knew if the wrong person noticed your reaction..." Lex
drew his hands back and turned away. "You really thought we were enemies?"
An apology seemed prudent, but Clark couldn't find his voice to speak one.
"Then why come to me, Clark?"
"You saved me." He looked down at the ring. "You could have chosen a different method, could have taken advantage of my weakness... could have done a lot of things. But you saved me and helped me, just like you always did." Today, in coming here, Clark had followed his hope and his heart for once. And his common sense. "Plus, this is your city. If anyone had a right to protect it, or a desire to do so, it would be you."
"You've spent too much time around Bruce if you're buying into the territoriality." The words lacked heat or bite. Lex opened the door. "When you're done communing with my bathroom, take a seat in my office."
Clark owed Lex an apology, for all his wrong assumptions past and present, but the door was closed before Clark could vocalize them. His attempt to predict Lex's reaction had failed. Lex had always been outside Clark's understanding, though there had been a time in his youth he'd thought himself close enough.
Foolishly, he'd let himself react on his assumptions about Lex instead of to the man himself. Being half right where Lex was concerned was as bad as being completely wrong. Clark had better luck when he wasn't trying. When he'd let the friendship develop as it would. When he'd trusted Lex as much as himself.
He dropped the ice pack into the sink and slid the ring off. The rush of desire was so pleasurable that Clark shivered as the pink kryptonite burned through him. It was a struggle to get the ring back on his finger, as his hands were shaking so badly in reaction.
The bruising and swelling were gone, though a hint of tenderness remained. Clark undid his pants and pressed the ice pack against his erection.
By the time he had himself under control, and he was no longer visibly sporting wood, Lex wasn't in his office. He could have been gone for a few seconds or since he'd left Clark alone ten minutes before. After a few seconds of thought, he took one of the chairs in front of the desk. Moving them to the more comfortable and cozy area of the sofa hadn't worked earlier.
The door opened and Lex came in bearing work. He hesitated when his eyes landed on Clark, but he recovered quickly. "You need to look this over." Clark expected the file folder to be slammed down, but Lex placed it gently. "There's a keycard to grant you access to my office. A list of duties I'll expect you to perform, brief bios of the people with whom you'll be working, and-"
"What?" Clark interrupted. He flipped the file open. "What's all this for?"
"I stopped giving things away for nothing, Clark. You want my help with your superhero gig? I expect you to help me with my day job." It was no surprise when Lex didn't return to his chair. He sat on the corner of the desk and continued to regard Clark. The move, the fact that Lex was leaning and not looming, made Clark wonder about his earlier assumptions. He wondered if either of them knew how to let space exist between them. "You can tell White you're doing an article on LexCorp. You can even write it, if I'm given final say in what's published."
"You get free publicity?" Clark couldn't have chosen a worse thing to say if he'd tried. Next time he opened his mouth, he was going to go with the first instinct of jumping Lex instead of the secondary impulse to insult him.
The only time there was distance between them was when they were fighting. Hurting each other. Lex, however, ignored the barb after only a hesitation and spark of the eyes, continuing instead with his plan. "And you get someone else to play superhero in your stead, Clark. Or you could call in the Bat, the League. Anyone else."
Clark shook his head and made a point of paging through the papers provided. "Metropolis is safest in your hands." Secretary, aides, a few scientists. A list of departments he could visit for his article. "I'm not sure I can say the same about your company being safe with me. Lex, I don't know how to run a company."
Unwittingly, Clark had said something to throw Lex's anger and equilibrium out the window. His face was still, his eyes hard, but the anger was gone and he seemed torn between taking the offensive and waiting to defend himself. Conflicted over which was needed.
Maybe that was the answer. No plan to make the playing field level, no over-thinking what motions either of them made. Put his trust where it always should have been and react accordingly. "Thank you."
Lex nodded and turned to his computer. "When you're done with that, we'll discuss areas I need to be aware of, situations that may have been brewing for a while." They lapsed into silence. Clark took the hint and began reading in earnest. He only caught the bare edge of Lex's whispered, "You're welcome."
* * *
Whatever he'd expected, it wasn't this. "I thought you'd help me find a way to be Superman without..."
Lex waited, and filled in when Clark didn't, "Without your powers? You have no training. You've always depended on your strength and your speed and it would take more time now to train you than just to do this myself. That's why you're doing the paperwork."
"But surely, with these devices and tools-" He reached for the dark purple belt, only to have Lex slap his hand away.
"No," Lex pushed him away from the table. "All of these tools require training to use. But more than that, you require training, Clark. How far can you run? How fast can you climb? What's your endurance? You have no idea what you're capable of, and what you aren't, anymore. Until you learn that? You're more of a liability out in the street than a help."
Modulating his tone in order to keep any insult from the words, Clark asked, "And you're not?"
Lex's gaze drifted over the table and then up to the costume. "How long do you think a costume like that takes to create?"
"More than thirty-six hours," Clark hazarded. He regarded the entire ensemble with new eyes. "Sometimes, it takes the League a while to get here."
"Superman can't handle everything himself," Lex murmured, an agreement of sorts.
Clark looked around at the lab. There were replicas of tools used by Batman and Green Arrow, plus a wide assortment of others. There was the costume on black and dark purple, plus another suit in all black. Clark remembered it, vaguely, as the costume Lex had worn when rescuing him.
Rocket boots and packs, batarangs, grappling hooks, darts, arrows, gauntlets. It was not the collection of an idle fanboy.
A week ago, if Clark had had an inkling of the existence of the lab and its contents, he would've made the wrong assumption. "I've never known who you are." He'd wanted to have faith in Lex, but if he ever had, this revelation wouldn't have been a surprise.
"You did once. Then, like everyone else, you saw the person I could be and you started to react to him. The man I would have been without you."
"You've been without me for a year. Longer!" The truth hurt. Lex had asked him not to give up, but Clark had.
A hand on Clark's arm turned him around. There was the old Lex before him, patient and open, waiting to take Clark's angst and turn it around. Make it better. "If that was true, you wouldn't have come to me now." He smiled tightly. "That's what I keep telling myself, at least."
"Can you forgive me?"
"I gave you every opportunity to trust me, Clark. And then I stopped trying, because after a while, the rejection stung too much. The fact that you needed proof hurt, but it wasn't as bad as offering that proof and having it rebuffed. At some point you have to take things on faith." His hand trailed down Clark's arm to clasp loosely around his wrist. He lifted Clark's hand until the ring caught the light. "Part of me says this shouldn't count, because I had to offer proof once again."
"And the rest?"
"I knew the possible consequences of my actions. Even the most unlikely of them." Lex released his hold. "To answer your question; no. I can't offer forgiveness now." His fingers came up to tilt Clark's chin, forcing their gazes to meet. "But I have faith you'll earn it eventually."
* * *
The situation was only temporary. The effects of the pink kryptonite couldn't be permanent. Clark tried to gauge the strength of his reaction every time he slid the ring off, but the only thing that he managed to decide was that the reaction was quicker each time, whether he'd taken himself in hand recently or not.
Proximity to Lex did seem to have some affect. The reaction wasn't as strong when he attempted it in the restroom at the Daily Planet, even with Lois standing outside with the top buttons of her blouse unbuttoned.
Despite knowing that his depowered state wouldn't last, Clark threw himself into his new duties. Lois was both impressed by the fact that he could be reliably found at the office for most of the day and annoyed by his presence. Perry wasn't convinced by the LexCorp angle, but he allowed Clark to make the excuse and gave him permission to spend the latter part of the day away from the Planet.
Walking into Lex's office for the second day in a row, Clark was no less nervous than he'd been the day before. Ms. Teschmacher, who refused to answer to anything but Eve, gave him a look that was more speculative than commiserating, but there was no delay to clear his presence with Lex. "He's waiting for you, Mr. Kent."
"Thank you, Eve." Lex was busy at work inside; he didn't acknowledge Clark immediately. Given the parameters set the day before, Clark shut the door and took up the chair he'd sat in before. There were folders placed on the desktop, waiting for him. Before he had a chance to look through them, Lex pushed a copy of the Planet across the desk.
Clark was already familiar with the article, having written the words that accompanied the front page photo of Superman being carried out of a warehouse in the arms of a black-clad figure. The shot was grainy, but dramatic. Thankfully, the photographer had failed to capture anything of the rutting frenzy Clark had been in at the time. If one squinted very carefully, they might recognize the suggestive placement of his hands. Perry and Lois both had shot down his request to print the article alone.
Lex looked up and fixed Clark with an appraising look. "Nightwing?"
"You had a better name in mind?" Clark tossed back. It had been a quick decision and only his 'connection' to Superman had allowed him to claim authority when it came to the moniker of the new hero in Metropolis. "It was that, or let Lois have a chance to come up with something."
The grimace on Lex's face was answer enough, though he went further. "Thank you, then. I can only imagine what Ms. Lane might have managed." The silence hung heavily in the air between them, and then Lex's lips twitched. "Superman."
The article recapped the events of the rescue, before going on to outline the actions the fledgling hero Nightwing had taken to protect the city. And the naming was attributed to Superman, who had also given a brief lesson in Kryptonian mythology.
"I appreciate you stepping in, Clark. I appreciate the fabrication."
"I didn't make it up," Clark admitted. "The legends are true, according to the AI. I did write it up from memory, though."
Lex went back to his typing as if the conversation was of no consequence. "Nightwing and Flamebird?"
"Kryptonian superheroes. Or demigods. The accounts are a bit jumbled in my head." He'd lost the ability to speed read, though his eidetic memory seemed to have survived his depowering. He sorted through the tasks assigned to him. "I thought Nightwing fit better than Flamebird, too." The idea had started to form after he'd seen Lex's costume and had only solidified when he'd heard Lois tossing out suggestions. Thinking him superpowered like Superman, she'd tossed out gems like 'Ultraman' and 'Super Shadow'.
"Thank you."
They worked through the rest of the afternoon, Clark learning the basic protocols that accompanied Clark's temporary title as personal assistant. Toward the end of the afternoon, they toured the tower. Clark had seen it all before, either as a reporter or as Superman, but it was different. Lex introduced him to the scientists that worked in the labs at the tower. To the people who had a clearance and priority level high enough to report to Lex personally, he made it clear to report to Clark instead.
"I have no idea what I'm doing," Clark admitted again. Lex seemed much more comfortable with their role change than he felt. Some of the information he could get the AI to look over and translate back the pertinent details, but he had no idea how to prioritize projects and requests for funding.
"Eve will handle most of it. It's safer for everyone involved if they feel accountable to a figurehead. I give the majority of the staff a certain amount of freedom for innovation, with the understanding that if they get too far out of hand, those freedoms are easily removed."
"Then what am I doing?"
The elevator stopped between floors. Lex removed his hand from the emergency stop button. He leaned back against the wall with his hands in his pockets, the bottom of his jacket pushed back. "You're here to have your faith justified, Clark."
Clark would be a liar if he said he hadn't seen that coming. His view of them as enemies had been partly created by his own antagonistic attacks on LexCorp. He'd felt justified at the time. He and Oliver had uncovered suspicious goings-on and why else would Lex be so outspoken against Superman, unless he was protecting something from discovery?
It was on the tip of his tongue to protest that he didn't need it, that Lex had nothing to prove to him, but one look at Lex's face told him the other man was waiting for just that argument. Instead, he let his silence speak for him. After a long moment, Lex reached out and restarted the elevator.
They maintained silence until they were back in Lex's office. Eve had already left for the day and Clark was aware that a great many people had already left or would be leaving soon. The tower felt surprisingly empty. "Next point on the agenda. Have you tried taking the ring off today?"
"Twice," Clark reported. Lex bypassed the desk and Clark took his cue. He took a seat on the sofa again, tucking himself in the corner. He tried to be matter-of-fact as he recounted his embarrassing loss of control.
He was doing rather well until Lex announced, "It may just need to work its way through your system." The dark humor in his voice is what gave away his meaning.
Clark fought - and lost to - the blush that suffused his face. "That's not an option."
"It's an erection, Clark. There are a variety of ways one can choose to deal with it."
On the one hand, Lex's attitude confirmed that Clark had done very well at keeping the details of the effect vague. On the other, this meant that Clark had to find the words to adequately explain that he wasn't suffering a simple hormonal rush and resulting erection. "It's not as easy as that."
"Do tell." Lex sat on the sofa's middle cushion, close enough to Clark that the previous day's events temporarily invaded his mind. He wondered if he was about to suffer another black eye when he made this latest announcement. At least this wasn't engendered by his own ignorance.
"It's not a vague desire. I can't have a one-off in the bathroom while thinking of-" He waved a hand and tried to remember what he used to think of to arouse himself. It had been a while. He'd been sublimating a lot of his frustration into his work. "It's focused and it- I have the desire for a partner."
"A specific partner?"
With a shake of his head, Clark dispelled that notion. "I think anyone I've ever been attracted to is fair game. Lois was hounding me on my way into the bathroom this afternoon. And this morning..." He took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose so he wouldn't have to meet Lex's gaze. That morning and the evening before, Clark's thoughts had turned to Lex.
It hadn't surprised him, given how often his thoughts had turned to his friend over the past few years, before and after their last falling out. Or perhaps given the fact that Clark knew he'd been rutting against Lex during his rescue.
"And this is not an option for you, because you and Ms. Lane are not paramours?" Lex stretched an arm along the back of the sofa. Clark tried not to take his open body language as an invitation, but then he looked up and his gaze was caught by Lex's. It would have been hard for even the naive teenager Clark had been to mistake the heat in his eyes.
"Not an option because I have no 'paramour', Lois or otherwise."
"And if an offer were made?"
Clark wanted to remind him of the forgiveness that was still off the table, but didn't, because even he knew better than to think sex required an added emotional element. For one foolish second, Clark thought about asking him what the trade-off was, but that would have probably resulted in the offer being removed. "Are you serious?"
"Consider it just another service on offer," Lex said dryly. Clark surged forward to kiss him, but Lex was faster than he was. He twisted them around and pushed Clark down into the cushions. His eyes settled on the ring and then came back up. "You didn't take it off."
"No. I just- I wanted you to know. It's more than just the kryptonite. The desire is mine." He let that sink in and held still when Lex's hold on him loosened. "It just makes it stronger, so that's the only thing I can think about. It's worse than being fifteen again and seeing sex in everything."
"And you want me." It may have been just an observation, but the words sounded uncertain. Questioning.
Clark met his gaze and tried to let his desire and affection show. "Always."
Lex's reaction was hidden by the closing of his eyes, the aversion of his face as he tilted his head down. "I could take advantage of you."
"You've had years to take advantage of me, Lex, and you haven't yet." Lex shifted as Clark brought his hand up, but he allowed Clark's fingers to trace over his face. "The truth is, once the ring is off... I'm the one who will be taking."
"Only what I've already offered to give." Lex's head came up, his pupils dilated. "But I think we should do this carefully. Proceed with a plan."
"A plan?" Clark repeated, the last word ending on a high note as Lex shifted over Clark, settling over top of him.
Lex nodded, his head dipping as he brushed his cheek along Clark's jaw. "We'll try taking the edge off first."
There was no need to ask what he meant, with his hands briskly undoing Clark's pants.
* * *
Paper cuts and twisted ankles aside, it wasn't a bad week. Clark asked questions of the AI and Lex to help get him through stacks of paperwork and reports. Lex set up cameras around the city and tuned into the police scanner.
Clark went home at night and slept in his otherwise empty bed, then reported to the Planet each morning. Every afternoon and evening, they tested to see if the pink-K effect was lessened. On the third day, Clark thought it was. They'd taken the edge off and then gone for a second round with the ring off and for a half minute, Clark went through and listed off the bones in Lex's body that had been broken at one point or another.
They discovered that Clark didn't have to have an erection to still be mindless with desire, though his instincts then changed from trying to get inside Lex to straddling him instead and...
It was actually one of the better weeks in Clark's memory, but the sex wasn't the whole of it. He found he had an aptitude for setting up research teams. Lex was not impressed when Clark closed down one of the weapons development programs, but after restructuring the rest of the projects and reassigning people, the increase in productivity made it hard for Lex to be mad at him.
Lex turned out to be rather good at the rescuing. His flare for the dramatic made things interesting, especially when he declined to use a grappling hook like Batman and chose to go for the flashier jetpack, with backup jetboots.
Lois had dragged Clark around from a stand-off in the slums to the site of a thwarted abducting on the east side trying to get an interview with the elusive Nightwing. By the end of that day, Clark had decided a twisted ankle was a small price to pay to have Nightwing rescue him again.
Being rescued while his mind was clear had been an experience. His fears of flying had disappeared when he'd found out he himself could take to the skies, but it was different when you weren't invulnerable and the only thing between you and a painful meeting with the ground was the strength of someone else's arms and a jetpack.
His show of faith, exhibited by his lack of freaking out, had been well rewarded.
Then a large-scale fire in a tenement in the slums interrupted their dinner. It wasn't the first fire since Superman had left Metropolis to 'recuperate'. Lex was up in an instant, Clark on his heels. Some parts of the costume were easier and faster to don with an extra pair of hands. Clark settled the utility belt around Lex's slim hips while he was still zipping up the top part of the suit.
"The ring?" Lex asked.
Clark hadn't tested it since that morning. With one thing and another, they hadn't gotten up to anything more than corporate drudgery that afternoon. Clark pulled the ring off and dropped it into Lex's waiting palm. The arousal was instantaneous, quicker this time, and he was barely conscious of shoving Lex against the wall. His focus was on the skin under his mouth, the sweet-salt taste of Lex's collar, the-
Ring on his finger and the body trembling against his. Clark would have once thought the trembling to be fear, but since then, he'd felt the thrum of Lex's desire, had come to learn the signs of his passion.
"I have to go," Lex reminded him, pushing Clark back easily. Lex darted in for a kiss, but didn't linger.
Clark turned to press his forehead against the wall. The heat was still trapped under his skin, his cock full and aching. He shuddered when fingers traced across the back of his neck.
"Stay." The hand settled fully and kneaded the tension out of the area at the top of his spine. Then Lex was gone, hand and presence and all.
* * *
The fire had killed three, though Nightwing reportedly helped save fifteen people by dropping ropes and helping them slide to safety. Superman could have put the fire out faster, but it was doubtful any civilian, anyone as human as Lex, could have done half as much.
The silence in the penthouse was heavy when Lex entered through the balcony doors. Clark already had the television turned off and he stood awkwardly in the dark as Lex approached. Words were useless and he was indecisive in regards to action.
Lex approached and then passed by, a silent ghost. His fingers brushed Clark's hand and then caught, tugging him behind. Clark allowed himself to be led down the dark hall and into the bathroom. He listened to the rustling of material as Lex stripped out of the tarnished Nightwing costume and belatedly rushed to divest himself of clothing. He was still wearing socks when Lex's hand found his again and tugged him into the shower stall, but Clark held his tongue and followed.
He took the first blast of cold water against his back and gasped. Lex fixed the temperature of the water and turned them so that he was between Clark and the spray. His energy seemed to fail there, as he sagged against Clark and made no move to wash.
Awkwardly, wishing he had his strength and ability to fly - or hover, in this case - Clark took off his soggy socks and let them drop in a corner of the shower, then turned his attention to getting Lex cleaned up. He ran a gentle hand over Lex's eyes to make sure they were shut before creating a lather in his hands and soaping down the dome of his head. Behind the ears and around the shell, down the back of his head to his neck.
He had to brace Lex against the wall to wash his face, feeling through the features with the tips of his fingers. The expressive eyebrows and the narrow flare of his nose. The upturned corners of his mouth. Clark lingered there, wishing he could see the expression to make sure of it.
"I'm sorry." The words rushed out, unbidden. He hadn't even been aware they'd been hovering in the back of his throat until they were spoken. "I should have been there." Superman could have put the fire out, could have saved those other three people.
Lex's answer was a firm, flat, "No." He shoved Clark against the tiled wall and then held him in place with his body. "Don't," he demanded.
"Three people are dead because-" Because Clark couldn't hear them, couldn't rush to their aid, was no longer fast enough or strong enough.
"No," Lex said again, cutting off the words with the force of his hands on Clark's shoulders, the weight of his chest, the gentle pressure of his mouth. "They were dead already, Clark. Even Superman couldn't have saved them."
The words didn't make sense, even when Lex repeated them, his hands smoothing through the wet strands of Clark's hair. He'd gone from letting Clark comfort him to offering it, his voice firm as he stated the facts. Dead on arrival, cause of the fire, murder suicide.
He stopped talking after that and simply held Clark until he came back to himself enough to realize what he'd done. "I'm so sorry, Lex. I-"
"It helps to put things in perspective when you feel worse than I do." The words were gently chiding, but he didn't let go when Clark tried to pull away. "Stay here. The hot water will last as long as we need it."
Whether it was a matter of need or indulgence, they stayed in the dark shower stall for a while longer. Clark resumed his earlier task of washing Lex's body, enjoying the feeling of smooth, slick skin against his palms.
Lex broke the silence. "It's okay, you know. I think it's easier for me to accept that some people are beyond our ability to save. I care, but you've always had the biggest heart of anyone I know."
With a sigh, Clark straightened up and rested his forehead against Lex's. "That doesn't make it okay for me to make this about me."
"It does, actually. Who takes care of you when things really go wrong? It wasn't our fault this time, but who's going to hold you next time, when someone else suffers because Superman wasn't fast enough or was saving someone else or just wasn't around?" His hands cupped Clark's cheeks. "I can turn it off, Clark, because I don't care about the individuals like you do. I'd go mad for trying. But who-"
"You." Clark said it firmly. Lex fell silent, his body tensing under Clark's hands. "That was the point, wasn't it? I've always needed you, today and yesterday and a month ago. And whether I've known it or not, you've always tried to give me what I need."
He didn't mention the lead lining in the full-face Nightwing mask or the fact that Lex had been ready and willing to come to his aid the first time Clark or Superman needed him.
He didn't need superstrength to pin Lex in a corner of the shower. "I'm so sorry."
"Shh." Lex's hands smoothed Clark's hair back, caressed down his back. "I forgive you."
* * *
In the morning, they were already post-coitus before either of them remembered the ring. Clark tugged it off and waited for the surge of desire. Already aroused, he felt nothing for a long moment until relief flooded through him.
Lex watched him patiently, eyes guarded until Clark rolled him onto his back. "We could redefine 'quickie'?"
"No," Clark declined. "We have time."
* * *
From the safety of the penthouse, Clark watched the events unravel. Someone, many someones, with an axe to grind had set explosives up in the skyscraper that housed several government offices. The group claiming credit for the bombs was refusing to name their targets, but already, there was a mad dash to clear the building of personnel.
Nightwing had arrived on the scene to help organize the evacuation and he was in the building when a 'warning shot' went off in the form of a bomb on one of the upper, empty floors. Clark didn't wait to see more. It didn't matter how cool Lex's toys were, how capable his body was at healing itself, he was still human at the core.
Once on the scene, Superman sped to get the workers out of the building, picking them up in twos and spending as little time as possibly setting then down safely before returning. He lost track of what Lex was doing, though he knew where his lover was at all times, was conscious of him moving up the floors, flying down the halls when he could, running when he couldn't.
The first blast shouldn't have been a surprise, but Clark felt his heart stop anyway. He nearly dropped the woman in his arms, but his feet were already on the ground and one of the others helped steady her as he sped in Lex's direction.
His instincts guided him into the building and back up through the floors to where Lex was trying to disarm one of the bombs. Clark had barely enough time to put himself between Lex and the source in time for him to take the brunt of the blast. Unfortunately, the rest of the bombs were synchronized and the support columns for the upper twenty stories were blasted.
He held the beam over his head and the roof collapsed around it in a V-shape. In the dim light, he couldn't see Lex clearly, but he felt the arms that came around his torso, knew the feel of Lex's breath against his neck as he tucked his head against Clark's shoulder. "Make a hole in the floor for me to fit through. Let the weight resettle as you come down."
It was a better idea than pushing up through the rubble and knocking it away from the support of the building below. It took only minutes for them to work their way out of the mess and ensure there were no other people trapped inside.
Lex was first to touch down on the ground outside, his costume dusted gray except a few places on his right arm and down his side where the costume had been ripped. There, the color of his blood stood out in stark relief against his pale skin. He was directing the authorities on the scene on where to move the crowd when Clark touched down just outside the circling ring of fire fighters and police officers.
Further back were the reporters and the onlookers, the uninjured survivors. Clark ignored them all as he made his way to Lex's side. There was a moment of tension in Lex's body as Clark pulled him in, but he met Clark's kiss and returned his worry and relief with physical reassurance, his lips saying clearly, wordlessly, "I'm okay."
* * *
The drapes had been opened to let in the morning sunlight. It helped to revitalize him after a night spent working and then playing. Lex seemed less enthusiastic to start the day, but since he was responsible for the spill of light into the room and the breakfast tray, Clark took his grumbling to be largely for show.
Lex had left the room to fetch something. Given the amount of food on the tray, Clark couldn't imagine what they needed. He wasn't entirely surprised when Lex came back in with the a copy of the Daily Planet. He was smirking at it. "That didn't take long."
"What?" With some trepidation, Clark took the paper on offer. He wasn't surprised by the picture on the front. Their lip-lock couldn't have gone unnoticed in front of all those reporters. It was the words that caught his attention, though. "Flamebird?"
Lex reclined beside him in the bed, his attention on the tray in Clark's lap as he selected a blackberry from the fruit bowl. "You object?"
Clark smiled, amused by the purposeful avoidance of his gaze. "Not at all. Flamebird and Nightwing were- well. I already told you the legend."
"It seemed fitting, after yesterday's display." His fingers returned from the bowl and extricated a bite of melon. He tilted his head and finally made eye contact as he held the piece to Clark's lips. "There's a power in naming someone, you know. In being named."
Clark chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. "Something about only being able to name what you own?"
"Something like that. The most important thing," Lex continued softly. He straddled Clark's thighs and leaned forward. "Flamebird and Nightwing are always allies, always together in your legends. Never separated. Never enemies."
"They weren't necessarily lovers, either."
Lex tugged the paper from his grip and tossed it over his shoulder. "It's in the subtext."
Category: fic
Rating: PG-13, language and innuendo
Word Count: 7225
Spoilers: First five seasons, or so, though the story itself diverges from canon sometime between seasons 3 and 5. Character mentions from later seasons (ie Oliver) and DCU.
Warnings: Sexual innuendo and language, no explicit acts
Notes: AU after season three. Written as a pinch-hit for the fabulous ladydreamer for the clexmas Not Another Plastix X-mas exchange and posted here. Betaed by the incredible twinsarein and tallihensia, with remaining and post-beta errors credited to me.
Prompt: mpreg or single daddy!Lex, reversed roles (ex. rich!Clark/poor!Lex or hero!Lex/citizen!Clark), or old school shenanigans.
Summary: When Clark is forced to do without his powers for a period of time, his double-life as Superman comes to a temporary stop. Interestingly, neither he nor Metropolis are left defenseless.
Clark Kent, also known as "Superman", had rescued numerous people since his costumed debut in Metropolis. In the year since, he'd had more than one woman - and man - attempt to express their gratitude physically. Clark hadn't understood why they did this; he couldn't have. He'd spent the majority of his late teens saving other people and the times when the favor was returned, the rescues were different.
No one before had ever carried him out of a burning (not actually on fire, though it felt like flames consuming him) building. Nor had they held him clasped in a grip that was firm (not as strong as his own, but still so steady) and protective. When was the last time anyone had soothed his own cries of pain (ecstasy) with a gentle (cool) touch?
In the aftermath, Clark's memories were hazy, overridden by a heightened sense of arousal and then nothing was clear until he'd woken up in Smallville. His mother had found him in the loft, alerted to his presence by the blazing of the barn lights, all of which had been on. There'd been no rescuer around to thank.
Only a small bit of evidence left behind to prove Clark hadn't saved himself. A ring on his finger that wasn't a wedding band, but represented a pledge none-the-less. A blue stone in a setting that had once housed green, the band resized to fit Clark's ring finger perfectly.
* * *
Clark paused with his left hand on the knob, conscious of the secretary behind him and the weight of her gaze. Thankfully, she didn't remind him that he had permission to enter. When he chanced a glance at her, she met his gaze with a kindly smile and the understanding of a person who has stood thus, uncertain about what she would find when the door was opened.
He doubted she'd ever viewed Lex as an enemy, though. Or faced him wearing only a thin layer of spandex as protection while Lex's voice flayed across her skin and his hate-filled eyes burned into her soul. How had he ever thought Lex oblivious?
His illusions were surely shattered. An ignorant man would not have delivered Clark into the safe-keeping of his mother; an enemy would not have saved him in the first place. And hate? Clark twisted the hand on the knob and the blue stone flashed in the light even as the door opened. He gave it a light push and then stepped into the office.
"Clark," Lex said, rising.
He'd had time to stand up before Clark entered, especially with Clark's hesitation. Clark wondered if Lex had feared appearing too eager if he was found already on his feet, obviously waiting? Or too cold, if he did not rise at all? "Sorry for coming without an appointment."
"You've never needed an appointment," chided Lex. He came around the desk and leaned against the corner. Casually, his gaze dropped to Clark's hands - now in his pockets, hidden - and then his eyes lifted again, the motion quick enough to miss, unless someone was watching. "Your mother told me you were sick, but you look well. A little tired, perhaps."
It was strange how even the simplest actions and questions took on different meanings. If Clark sat in front of the desk, Lex would be looming over him. If he stood, he'd have to explain why he wasn't taking advantage of resting his 'tired' body. And the lack of an actual question about his health was a glaring omission. When had Clark ever thought Lex subtle?
How ignorant had they both been?
With a sigh that was more genuine than feigned, Clark bypassed the desk and its set of chairs and instead dropped heavily onto the sofa. He let his arms rest on either side of him, palms up and fingers curled in loosely. Careful to keep his gaze on a spot on the floor halfway between them, Clark saw Lex stiffen. There was no easy way to tower over Clark now, but neither could they have any kind of conversation with the majority of Lex's office between them.
After a moment, Lex joined him by way of the bar. He handed Clark a bottle of water without asking and, after only a moment of hesitation, sat down beside Clark instead of taking one of the chairs that matched the sofa. He sat with his left leg drawn up on the cushions. It gave him a clear personal boundary while his body appeared open. "Are you okay?"
That was real concern and Clark allowed himself to relax as he turned his body toward Lex's, letting one arm fall along the back of couch, fingers trailing close to Lex's shoulder. "I have something to share with you."
"Not whatever bug you have, I hope." Lex opened his own water, but that was another defense mechanism; busy the hands and his mouth, the casual turn of his head as he tipped his head back to drink that caused him to incidentally - purposely - break eye contact.
"No," Clark said, giving a short laugh. He reached across the space between them and set his left hand on Lex's leg. "The kryptonite, the pink, is still in my system."
Lex's eyes dropped, the hand with the bottle lowering to his side. "The ring?"
"Works to counter the effects while I'm wearing it, but I can't take it off without-" Lex sprang off the sofa abruptly, cutting off Clark's words. Clark stayed. To stand would have been a sign of aggression and would only serve to fuel Lex's agitation. "The..." Not symptoms, it wasn't a disease. The desire, the low flood of arousal? "...signs reappear whenever I try to take it off."
Six feet and a chair separated them when Lex turned back. He hadn't managed to erase the emotions on his face or to hide their affect, but he had created a barrier of anger, one Clark could recognize now as a hastily constructed wall. "You came expecting me to fix it?"
"Yes."
* * *
Clark couldn't remember having a black eye before. He moved the ice pack enough to get a look at his shiner, then slapped it hastily back over his eye when the bathroom door opened. By the look Lex gave him, his resulting hiss and grimace of pain did not go unnoticed.
"Are you planning to hide in here all day?" There was no concern now; the flatness had returned to Lex's gaze, making it the same unemotional stare Clark had become used to in the past year.
He'd thought being honest would prevent this, but he'd forgotten. In the past, the only thing he'd been honest about was what he needed or wanted from Lex. "I'm sorry."
Lex flexed his left hand and smirked. "For what? I can say that for once, it hurt you more than me." His knuckles had already started to heal over.
When he wasn't wearing the ring, Clark could heal faster. He thought about removing it, just for a few seconds. When they'd tested it at the farm, the flood of desire was slow to rise, slow enough that he had a few seconds of control in which he could replace the ring. That would be all the time he'd need to heal, surely?
"You're a big baby," Lex chided. His voice was gentle, as gentle as the hands that pulled the ice pack away and brushed the skin around Clark's eye. "Though I have to say, it does look like it hurts."
"I think I liked it better when we were enemies," Clark muttered sarcastically.
Lex's eyes narrowed, his gaze fixed on Clark. "We were never enemies."
Clark rolled his eyes. "Lex, you spoke out against me You called for the government to come in and imprison me, and-"
"I didn't realize it was you." The words sounded full of pain and Clark could see the hurt in his eyes. "I had no reason to think this sudden alien presence was you, Clark."
The articles speaking against Superman had stopped coming, but Clark had put that on the papers, not on Lex, followed as the silence was by the sudden stockpiling of meteor rocks. "But the kryptonite?"
"Because it hurt you. It was everywhere and I knew if the wrong person noticed your reaction..." Lex
drew his hands back and turned away. "You really thought we were enemies?"
An apology seemed prudent, but Clark couldn't find his voice to speak one.
"Then why come to me, Clark?"
"You saved me." He looked down at the ring. "You could have chosen a different method, could have taken advantage of my weakness... could have done a lot of things. But you saved me and helped me, just like you always did." Today, in coming here, Clark had followed his hope and his heart for once. And his common sense. "Plus, this is your city. If anyone had a right to protect it, or a desire to do so, it would be you."
"You've spent too much time around Bruce if you're buying into the territoriality." The words lacked heat or bite. Lex opened the door. "When you're done communing with my bathroom, take a seat in my office."
Clark owed Lex an apology, for all his wrong assumptions past and present, but the door was closed before Clark could vocalize them. His attempt to predict Lex's reaction had failed. Lex had always been outside Clark's understanding, though there had been a time in his youth he'd thought himself close enough.
Foolishly, he'd let himself react on his assumptions about Lex instead of to the man himself. Being half right where Lex was concerned was as bad as being completely wrong. Clark had better luck when he wasn't trying. When he'd let the friendship develop as it would. When he'd trusted Lex as much as himself.
He dropped the ice pack into the sink and slid the ring off. The rush of desire was so pleasurable that Clark shivered as the pink kryptonite burned through him. It was a struggle to get the ring back on his finger, as his hands were shaking so badly in reaction.
The bruising and swelling were gone, though a hint of tenderness remained. Clark undid his pants and pressed the ice pack against his erection.
By the time he had himself under control, and he was no longer visibly sporting wood, Lex wasn't in his office. He could have been gone for a few seconds or since he'd left Clark alone ten minutes before. After a few seconds of thought, he took one of the chairs in front of the desk. Moving them to the more comfortable and cozy area of the sofa hadn't worked earlier.
The door opened and Lex came in bearing work. He hesitated when his eyes landed on Clark, but he recovered quickly. "You need to look this over." Clark expected the file folder to be slammed down, but Lex placed it gently. "There's a keycard to grant you access to my office. A list of duties I'll expect you to perform, brief bios of the people with whom you'll be working, and-"
"What?" Clark interrupted. He flipped the file open. "What's all this for?"
"I stopped giving things away for nothing, Clark. You want my help with your superhero gig? I expect you to help me with my day job." It was no surprise when Lex didn't return to his chair. He sat on the corner of the desk and continued to regard Clark. The move, the fact that Lex was leaning and not looming, made Clark wonder about his earlier assumptions. He wondered if either of them knew how to let space exist between them. "You can tell White you're doing an article on LexCorp. You can even write it, if I'm given final say in what's published."
"You get free publicity?" Clark couldn't have chosen a worse thing to say if he'd tried. Next time he opened his mouth, he was going to go with the first instinct of jumping Lex instead of the secondary impulse to insult him.
The only time there was distance between them was when they were fighting. Hurting each other. Lex, however, ignored the barb after only a hesitation and spark of the eyes, continuing instead with his plan. "And you get someone else to play superhero in your stead, Clark. Or you could call in the Bat, the League. Anyone else."
Clark shook his head and made a point of paging through the papers provided. "Metropolis is safest in your hands." Secretary, aides, a few scientists. A list of departments he could visit for his article. "I'm not sure I can say the same about your company being safe with me. Lex, I don't know how to run a company."
Unwittingly, Clark had said something to throw Lex's anger and equilibrium out the window. His face was still, his eyes hard, but the anger was gone and he seemed torn between taking the offensive and waiting to defend himself. Conflicted over which was needed.
Maybe that was the answer. No plan to make the playing field level, no over-thinking what motions either of them made. Put his trust where it always should have been and react accordingly. "Thank you."
Lex nodded and turned to his computer. "When you're done with that, we'll discuss areas I need to be aware of, situations that may have been brewing for a while." They lapsed into silence. Clark took the hint and began reading in earnest. He only caught the bare edge of Lex's whispered, "You're welcome."
* * *
Whatever he'd expected, it wasn't this. "I thought you'd help me find a way to be Superman without..."
Lex waited, and filled in when Clark didn't, "Without your powers? You have no training. You've always depended on your strength and your speed and it would take more time now to train you than just to do this myself. That's why you're doing the paperwork."
"But surely, with these devices and tools-" He reached for the dark purple belt, only to have Lex slap his hand away.
"No," Lex pushed him away from the table. "All of these tools require training to use. But more than that, you require training, Clark. How far can you run? How fast can you climb? What's your endurance? You have no idea what you're capable of, and what you aren't, anymore. Until you learn that? You're more of a liability out in the street than a help."
Modulating his tone in order to keep any insult from the words, Clark asked, "And you're not?"
Lex's gaze drifted over the table and then up to the costume. "How long do you think a costume like that takes to create?"
"More than thirty-six hours," Clark hazarded. He regarded the entire ensemble with new eyes. "Sometimes, it takes the League a while to get here."
"Superman can't handle everything himself," Lex murmured, an agreement of sorts.
Clark looked around at the lab. There were replicas of tools used by Batman and Green Arrow, plus a wide assortment of others. There was the costume on black and dark purple, plus another suit in all black. Clark remembered it, vaguely, as the costume Lex had worn when rescuing him.
Rocket boots and packs, batarangs, grappling hooks, darts, arrows, gauntlets. It was not the collection of an idle fanboy.
A week ago, if Clark had had an inkling of the existence of the lab and its contents, he would've made the wrong assumption. "I've never known who you are." He'd wanted to have faith in Lex, but if he ever had, this revelation wouldn't have been a surprise.
"You did once. Then, like everyone else, you saw the person I could be and you started to react to him. The man I would have been without you."
"You've been without me for a year. Longer!" The truth hurt. Lex had asked him not to give up, but Clark had.
A hand on Clark's arm turned him around. There was the old Lex before him, patient and open, waiting to take Clark's angst and turn it around. Make it better. "If that was true, you wouldn't have come to me now." He smiled tightly. "That's what I keep telling myself, at least."
"Can you forgive me?"
"I gave you every opportunity to trust me, Clark. And then I stopped trying, because after a while, the rejection stung too much. The fact that you needed proof hurt, but it wasn't as bad as offering that proof and having it rebuffed. At some point you have to take things on faith." His hand trailed down Clark's arm to clasp loosely around his wrist. He lifted Clark's hand until the ring caught the light. "Part of me says this shouldn't count, because I had to offer proof once again."
"And the rest?"
"I knew the possible consequences of my actions. Even the most unlikely of them." Lex released his hold. "To answer your question; no. I can't offer forgiveness now." His fingers came up to tilt Clark's chin, forcing their gazes to meet. "But I have faith you'll earn it eventually."
* * *
The situation was only temporary. The effects of the pink kryptonite couldn't be permanent. Clark tried to gauge the strength of his reaction every time he slid the ring off, but the only thing that he managed to decide was that the reaction was quicker each time, whether he'd taken himself in hand recently or not.
Proximity to Lex did seem to have some affect. The reaction wasn't as strong when he attempted it in the restroom at the Daily Planet, even with Lois standing outside with the top buttons of her blouse unbuttoned.
Despite knowing that his depowered state wouldn't last, Clark threw himself into his new duties. Lois was both impressed by the fact that he could be reliably found at the office for most of the day and annoyed by his presence. Perry wasn't convinced by the LexCorp angle, but he allowed Clark to make the excuse and gave him permission to spend the latter part of the day away from the Planet.
Walking into Lex's office for the second day in a row, Clark was no less nervous than he'd been the day before. Ms. Teschmacher, who refused to answer to anything but Eve, gave him a look that was more speculative than commiserating, but there was no delay to clear his presence with Lex. "He's waiting for you, Mr. Kent."
"Thank you, Eve." Lex was busy at work inside; he didn't acknowledge Clark immediately. Given the parameters set the day before, Clark shut the door and took up the chair he'd sat in before. There were folders placed on the desktop, waiting for him. Before he had a chance to look through them, Lex pushed a copy of the Planet across the desk.
Clark was already familiar with the article, having written the words that accompanied the front page photo of Superman being carried out of a warehouse in the arms of a black-clad figure. The shot was grainy, but dramatic. Thankfully, the photographer had failed to capture anything of the rutting frenzy Clark had been in at the time. If one squinted very carefully, they might recognize the suggestive placement of his hands. Perry and Lois both had shot down his request to print the article alone.
Lex looked up and fixed Clark with an appraising look. "Nightwing?"
"You had a better name in mind?" Clark tossed back. It had been a quick decision and only his 'connection' to Superman had allowed him to claim authority when it came to the moniker of the new hero in Metropolis. "It was that, or let Lois have a chance to come up with something."
The grimace on Lex's face was answer enough, though he went further. "Thank you, then. I can only imagine what Ms. Lane might have managed." The silence hung heavily in the air between them, and then Lex's lips twitched. "Superman."
The article recapped the events of the rescue, before going on to outline the actions the fledgling hero Nightwing had taken to protect the city. And the naming was attributed to Superman, who had also given a brief lesson in Kryptonian mythology.
"I appreciate you stepping in, Clark. I appreciate the fabrication."
"I didn't make it up," Clark admitted. "The legends are true, according to the AI. I did write it up from memory, though."
Lex went back to his typing as if the conversation was of no consequence. "Nightwing and Flamebird?"
"Kryptonian superheroes. Or demigods. The accounts are a bit jumbled in my head." He'd lost the ability to speed read, though his eidetic memory seemed to have survived his depowering. He sorted through the tasks assigned to him. "I thought Nightwing fit better than Flamebird, too." The idea had started to form after he'd seen Lex's costume and had only solidified when he'd heard Lois tossing out suggestions. Thinking him superpowered like Superman, she'd tossed out gems like 'Ultraman' and 'Super Shadow'.
"Thank you."
They worked through the rest of the afternoon, Clark learning the basic protocols that accompanied Clark's temporary title as personal assistant. Toward the end of the afternoon, they toured the tower. Clark had seen it all before, either as a reporter or as Superman, but it was different. Lex introduced him to the scientists that worked in the labs at the tower. To the people who had a clearance and priority level high enough to report to Lex personally, he made it clear to report to Clark instead.
"I have no idea what I'm doing," Clark admitted again. Lex seemed much more comfortable with their role change than he felt. Some of the information he could get the AI to look over and translate back the pertinent details, but he had no idea how to prioritize projects and requests for funding.
"Eve will handle most of it. It's safer for everyone involved if they feel accountable to a figurehead. I give the majority of the staff a certain amount of freedom for innovation, with the understanding that if they get too far out of hand, those freedoms are easily removed."
"Then what am I doing?"
The elevator stopped between floors. Lex removed his hand from the emergency stop button. He leaned back against the wall with his hands in his pockets, the bottom of his jacket pushed back. "You're here to have your faith justified, Clark."
Clark would be a liar if he said he hadn't seen that coming. His view of them as enemies had been partly created by his own antagonistic attacks on LexCorp. He'd felt justified at the time. He and Oliver had uncovered suspicious goings-on and why else would Lex be so outspoken against Superman, unless he was protecting something from discovery?
It was on the tip of his tongue to protest that he didn't need it, that Lex had nothing to prove to him, but one look at Lex's face told him the other man was waiting for just that argument. Instead, he let his silence speak for him. After a long moment, Lex reached out and restarted the elevator.
They maintained silence until they were back in Lex's office. Eve had already left for the day and Clark was aware that a great many people had already left or would be leaving soon. The tower felt surprisingly empty. "Next point on the agenda. Have you tried taking the ring off today?"
"Twice," Clark reported. Lex bypassed the desk and Clark took his cue. He took a seat on the sofa again, tucking himself in the corner. He tried to be matter-of-fact as he recounted his embarrassing loss of control.
He was doing rather well until Lex announced, "It may just need to work its way through your system." The dark humor in his voice is what gave away his meaning.
Clark fought - and lost to - the blush that suffused his face. "That's not an option."
"It's an erection, Clark. There are a variety of ways one can choose to deal with it."
On the one hand, Lex's attitude confirmed that Clark had done very well at keeping the details of the effect vague. On the other, this meant that Clark had to find the words to adequately explain that he wasn't suffering a simple hormonal rush and resulting erection. "It's not as easy as that."
"Do tell." Lex sat on the sofa's middle cushion, close enough to Clark that the previous day's events temporarily invaded his mind. He wondered if he was about to suffer another black eye when he made this latest announcement. At least this wasn't engendered by his own ignorance.
"It's not a vague desire. I can't have a one-off in the bathroom while thinking of-" He waved a hand and tried to remember what he used to think of to arouse himself. It had been a while. He'd been sublimating a lot of his frustration into his work. "It's focused and it- I have the desire for a partner."
"A specific partner?"
With a shake of his head, Clark dispelled that notion. "I think anyone I've ever been attracted to is fair game. Lois was hounding me on my way into the bathroom this afternoon. And this morning..." He took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose so he wouldn't have to meet Lex's gaze. That morning and the evening before, Clark's thoughts had turned to Lex.
It hadn't surprised him, given how often his thoughts had turned to his friend over the past few years, before and after their last falling out. Or perhaps given the fact that Clark knew he'd been rutting against Lex during his rescue.
"And this is not an option for you, because you and Ms. Lane are not paramours?" Lex stretched an arm along the back of the sofa. Clark tried not to take his open body language as an invitation, but then he looked up and his gaze was caught by Lex's. It would have been hard for even the naive teenager Clark had been to mistake the heat in his eyes.
"Not an option because I have no 'paramour', Lois or otherwise."
"And if an offer were made?"
Clark wanted to remind him of the forgiveness that was still off the table, but didn't, because even he knew better than to think sex required an added emotional element. For one foolish second, Clark thought about asking him what the trade-off was, but that would have probably resulted in the offer being removed. "Are you serious?"
"Consider it just another service on offer," Lex said dryly. Clark surged forward to kiss him, but Lex was faster than he was. He twisted them around and pushed Clark down into the cushions. His eyes settled on the ring and then came back up. "You didn't take it off."
"No. I just- I wanted you to know. It's more than just the kryptonite. The desire is mine." He let that sink in and held still when Lex's hold on him loosened. "It just makes it stronger, so that's the only thing I can think about. It's worse than being fifteen again and seeing sex in everything."
"And you want me." It may have been just an observation, but the words sounded uncertain. Questioning.
Clark met his gaze and tried to let his desire and affection show. "Always."
Lex's reaction was hidden by the closing of his eyes, the aversion of his face as he tilted his head down. "I could take advantage of you."
"You've had years to take advantage of me, Lex, and you haven't yet." Lex shifted as Clark brought his hand up, but he allowed Clark's fingers to trace over his face. "The truth is, once the ring is off... I'm the one who will be taking."
"Only what I've already offered to give." Lex's head came up, his pupils dilated. "But I think we should do this carefully. Proceed with a plan."
"A plan?" Clark repeated, the last word ending on a high note as Lex shifted over Clark, settling over top of him.
Lex nodded, his head dipping as he brushed his cheek along Clark's jaw. "We'll try taking the edge off first."
There was no need to ask what he meant, with his hands briskly undoing Clark's pants.
* * *
Paper cuts and twisted ankles aside, it wasn't a bad week. Clark asked questions of the AI and Lex to help get him through stacks of paperwork and reports. Lex set up cameras around the city and tuned into the police scanner.
Clark went home at night and slept in his otherwise empty bed, then reported to the Planet each morning. Every afternoon and evening, they tested to see if the pink-K effect was lessened. On the third day, Clark thought it was. They'd taken the edge off and then gone for a second round with the ring off and for a half minute, Clark went through and listed off the bones in Lex's body that had been broken at one point or another.
They discovered that Clark didn't have to have an erection to still be mindless with desire, though his instincts then changed from trying to get inside Lex to straddling him instead and...
It was actually one of the better weeks in Clark's memory, but the sex wasn't the whole of it. He found he had an aptitude for setting up research teams. Lex was not impressed when Clark closed down one of the weapons development programs, but after restructuring the rest of the projects and reassigning people, the increase in productivity made it hard for Lex to be mad at him.
Lex turned out to be rather good at the rescuing. His flare for the dramatic made things interesting, especially when he declined to use a grappling hook like Batman and chose to go for the flashier jetpack, with backup jetboots.
Lois had dragged Clark around from a stand-off in the slums to the site of a thwarted abducting on the east side trying to get an interview with the elusive Nightwing. By the end of that day, Clark had decided a twisted ankle was a small price to pay to have Nightwing rescue him again.
Being rescued while his mind was clear had been an experience. His fears of flying had disappeared when he'd found out he himself could take to the skies, but it was different when you weren't invulnerable and the only thing between you and a painful meeting with the ground was the strength of someone else's arms and a jetpack.
His show of faith, exhibited by his lack of freaking out, had been well rewarded.
Then a large-scale fire in a tenement in the slums interrupted their dinner. It wasn't the first fire since Superman had left Metropolis to 'recuperate'. Lex was up in an instant, Clark on his heels. Some parts of the costume were easier and faster to don with an extra pair of hands. Clark settled the utility belt around Lex's slim hips while he was still zipping up the top part of the suit.
"The ring?" Lex asked.
Clark hadn't tested it since that morning. With one thing and another, they hadn't gotten up to anything more than corporate drudgery that afternoon. Clark pulled the ring off and dropped it into Lex's waiting palm. The arousal was instantaneous, quicker this time, and he was barely conscious of shoving Lex against the wall. His focus was on the skin under his mouth, the sweet-salt taste of Lex's collar, the-
Ring on his finger and the body trembling against his. Clark would have once thought the trembling to be fear, but since then, he'd felt the thrum of Lex's desire, had come to learn the signs of his passion.
"I have to go," Lex reminded him, pushing Clark back easily. Lex darted in for a kiss, but didn't linger.
Clark turned to press his forehead against the wall. The heat was still trapped under his skin, his cock full and aching. He shuddered when fingers traced across the back of his neck.
"Stay." The hand settled fully and kneaded the tension out of the area at the top of his spine. Then Lex was gone, hand and presence and all.
* * *
The fire had killed three, though Nightwing reportedly helped save fifteen people by dropping ropes and helping them slide to safety. Superman could have put the fire out faster, but it was doubtful any civilian, anyone as human as Lex, could have done half as much.
The silence in the penthouse was heavy when Lex entered through the balcony doors. Clark already had the television turned off and he stood awkwardly in the dark as Lex approached. Words were useless and he was indecisive in regards to action.
Lex approached and then passed by, a silent ghost. His fingers brushed Clark's hand and then caught, tugging him behind. Clark allowed himself to be led down the dark hall and into the bathroom. He listened to the rustling of material as Lex stripped out of the tarnished Nightwing costume and belatedly rushed to divest himself of clothing. He was still wearing socks when Lex's hand found his again and tugged him into the shower stall, but Clark held his tongue and followed.
He took the first blast of cold water against his back and gasped. Lex fixed the temperature of the water and turned them so that he was between Clark and the spray. His energy seemed to fail there, as he sagged against Clark and made no move to wash.
Awkwardly, wishing he had his strength and ability to fly - or hover, in this case - Clark took off his soggy socks and let them drop in a corner of the shower, then turned his attention to getting Lex cleaned up. He ran a gentle hand over Lex's eyes to make sure they were shut before creating a lather in his hands and soaping down the dome of his head. Behind the ears and around the shell, down the back of his head to his neck.
He had to brace Lex against the wall to wash his face, feeling through the features with the tips of his fingers. The expressive eyebrows and the narrow flare of his nose. The upturned corners of his mouth. Clark lingered there, wishing he could see the expression to make sure of it.
"I'm sorry." The words rushed out, unbidden. He hadn't even been aware they'd been hovering in the back of his throat until they were spoken. "I should have been there." Superman could have put the fire out, could have saved those other three people.
Lex's answer was a firm, flat, "No." He shoved Clark against the tiled wall and then held him in place with his body. "Don't," he demanded.
"Three people are dead because-" Because Clark couldn't hear them, couldn't rush to their aid, was no longer fast enough or strong enough.
"No," Lex said again, cutting off the words with the force of his hands on Clark's shoulders, the weight of his chest, the gentle pressure of his mouth. "They were dead already, Clark. Even Superman couldn't have saved them."
The words didn't make sense, even when Lex repeated them, his hands smoothing through the wet strands of Clark's hair. He'd gone from letting Clark comfort him to offering it, his voice firm as he stated the facts. Dead on arrival, cause of the fire, murder suicide.
He stopped talking after that and simply held Clark until he came back to himself enough to realize what he'd done. "I'm so sorry, Lex. I-"
"It helps to put things in perspective when you feel worse than I do." The words were gently chiding, but he didn't let go when Clark tried to pull away. "Stay here. The hot water will last as long as we need it."
Whether it was a matter of need or indulgence, they stayed in the dark shower stall for a while longer. Clark resumed his earlier task of washing Lex's body, enjoying the feeling of smooth, slick skin against his palms.
Lex broke the silence. "It's okay, you know. I think it's easier for me to accept that some people are beyond our ability to save. I care, but you've always had the biggest heart of anyone I know."
With a sigh, Clark straightened up and rested his forehead against Lex's. "That doesn't make it okay for me to make this about me."
"It does, actually. Who takes care of you when things really go wrong? It wasn't our fault this time, but who's going to hold you next time, when someone else suffers because Superman wasn't fast enough or was saving someone else or just wasn't around?" His hands cupped Clark's cheeks. "I can turn it off, Clark, because I don't care about the individuals like you do. I'd go mad for trying. But who-"
"You." Clark said it firmly. Lex fell silent, his body tensing under Clark's hands. "That was the point, wasn't it? I've always needed you, today and yesterday and a month ago. And whether I've known it or not, you've always tried to give me what I need."
He didn't mention the lead lining in the full-face Nightwing mask or the fact that Lex had been ready and willing to come to his aid the first time Clark or Superman needed him.
He didn't need superstrength to pin Lex in a corner of the shower. "I'm so sorry."
"Shh." Lex's hands smoothed Clark's hair back, caressed down his back. "I forgive you."
* * *
In the morning, they were already post-coitus before either of them remembered the ring. Clark tugged it off and waited for the surge of desire. Already aroused, he felt nothing for a long moment until relief flooded through him.
Lex watched him patiently, eyes guarded until Clark rolled him onto his back. "We could redefine 'quickie'?"
"No," Clark declined. "We have time."
* * *
From the safety of the penthouse, Clark watched the events unravel. Someone, many someones, with an axe to grind had set explosives up in the skyscraper that housed several government offices. The group claiming credit for the bombs was refusing to name their targets, but already, there was a mad dash to clear the building of personnel.
Nightwing had arrived on the scene to help organize the evacuation and he was in the building when a 'warning shot' went off in the form of a bomb on one of the upper, empty floors. Clark didn't wait to see more. It didn't matter how cool Lex's toys were, how capable his body was at healing itself, he was still human at the core.
Once on the scene, Superman sped to get the workers out of the building, picking them up in twos and spending as little time as possibly setting then down safely before returning. He lost track of what Lex was doing, though he knew where his lover was at all times, was conscious of him moving up the floors, flying down the halls when he could, running when he couldn't.
The first blast shouldn't have been a surprise, but Clark felt his heart stop anyway. He nearly dropped the woman in his arms, but his feet were already on the ground and one of the others helped steady her as he sped in Lex's direction.
His instincts guided him into the building and back up through the floors to where Lex was trying to disarm one of the bombs. Clark had barely enough time to put himself between Lex and the source in time for him to take the brunt of the blast. Unfortunately, the rest of the bombs were synchronized and the support columns for the upper twenty stories were blasted.
He held the beam over his head and the roof collapsed around it in a V-shape. In the dim light, he couldn't see Lex clearly, but he felt the arms that came around his torso, knew the feel of Lex's breath against his neck as he tucked his head against Clark's shoulder. "Make a hole in the floor for me to fit through. Let the weight resettle as you come down."
It was a better idea than pushing up through the rubble and knocking it away from the support of the building below. It took only minutes for them to work their way out of the mess and ensure there were no other people trapped inside.
Lex was first to touch down on the ground outside, his costume dusted gray except a few places on his right arm and down his side where the costume had been ripped. There, the color of his blood stood out in stark relief against his pale skin. He was directing the authorities on the scene on where to move the crowd when Clark touched down just outside the circling ring of fire fighters and police officers.
Further back were the reporters and the onlookers, the uninjured survivors. Clark ignored them all as he made his way to Lex's side. There was a moment of tension in Lex's body as Clark pulled him in, but he met Clark's kiss and returned his worry and relief with physical reassurance, his lips saying clearly, wordlessly, "I'm okay."
* * *
The drapes had been opened to let in the morning sunlight. It helped to revitalize him after a night spent working and then playing. Lex seemed less enthusiastic to start the day, but since he was responsible for the spill of light into the room and the breakfast tray, Clark took his grumbling to be largely for show.
Lex had left the room to fetch something. Given the amount of food on the tray, Clark couldn't imagine what they needed. He wasn't entirely surprised when Lex came back in with the a copy of the Daily Planet. He was smirking at it. "That didn't take long."
"What?" With some trepidation, Clark took the paper on offer. He wasn't surprised by the picture on the front. Their lip-lock couldn't have gone unnoticed in front of all those reporters. It was the words that caught his attention, though. "Flamebird?"
Lex reclined beside him in the bed, his attention on the tray in Clark's lap as he selected a blackberry from the fruit bowl. "You object?"
Clark smiled, amused by the purposeful avoidance of his gaze. "Not at all. Flamebird and Nightwing were- well. I already told you the legend."
"It seemed fitting, after yesterday's display." His fingers returned from the bowl and extricated a bite of melon. He tilted his head and finally made eye contact as he held the piece to Clark's lips. "There's a power in naming someone, you know. In being named."
Clark chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. "Something about only being able to name what you own?"
"Something like that. The most important thing," Lex continued softly. He straddled Clark's thighs and leaned forward. "Flamebird and Nightwing are always allies, always together in your legends. Never separated. Never enemies."
"They weren't necessarily lovers, either."
Lex tugged the paper from his grip and tossed it over his shoulder. "It's in the subtext."