Archive of Our Own

The feud between Lex and Superman didn't so much end as simply become too ridiculous to carry on. They had no one to blame for it but themselves. Lex laid the foundation for their obsolescence with his advances in technology, and Superman did his part creating a safe haven for peace and prosperity around the world. Humanity wasn't so hopelessly dim that it couldn't pick up a ball and run with it. In the 21st century, they eradicated poverty, illiteracy, and armed conflict. In the 22nd, they rethought the whole profit-based economic system and the wisdom of alien interference in Earth affairs. An irony, really, that it was progress that put Lex and Superman collectively out of business.

Clark disappeared entirely from the public eye, retreating to his fortress in the great white North to do who knew what, perhaps pine for his glory days the way Lex often did. It had been such a long time since anyone had seen him that he could even be dead or simply...gone.

Lex still went to work every day. Only now the LexCorp tower was known to everyone but him as the Museum of Capitalism, and he had a trusty staff of one, namely himself. He spent his days dreaming up elaborate, slightly shady schemes to corner a gold market that no longer existed and fielded the occasional queries from students of history or technology who wanted his "oldie" perspective on their work. Truly, living forever was not all it was cracked up to be.

Recently, though, Lex had come up with a plan to make the hard press of immortality a little easier to bear, and he'd enlisted the help of Grubner Starflower, brilliant scientist, expert in robotics, one of those students of technology who often sought Lex out. Oh, Grubner hadn't exactly agreed to the idea, but Lex still dropped by his workspace every so often to check up on the status of it. He had complete confidence that sheer determination would ultimately prevail.

Today when he arrived, Grubner was mulling over some designs for the automated environmental remediation system he'd been working on ever since Lex had known him.

"Mr. Luthor! How zap of you to stop by. I could really use your opinion on this."

Grubner always called him "Mr. Luthor," although it was contrary to the new world order of absolute egalitarianism, and he never failed to use some slang expression that made Lex feel about two hundred years too old.

Lex took a look at Grubner's equations for the hydraulics components. "You need to adjust the drag coefficient."

Grubner's face lit up. "Zo! That's it! I knew you were the person to ask. I keep telling you that you should come share my workspace, and we could really get this thing solved. You know what they say. Teamwork makes the work teem."

People nowadays were fond of upbeat slogans, too much so in Lex's opinion.

He ignored the cheerleading and asked, "So how's our project coming along?"

Grubner shook his head. "You know I can't expend resources on that, Mr. Luthor. I keep telling you."

He looked sorry about it, not that this did Lex any good.

"The advanced robotics would have plenty of applications for the work you're doing," Lex reasoned.

Grubner raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Lex sighed. "I need someone to keep me company. Think of it as a humanitarian mission."

"If you want to connect, you have to be a link in the human chain," Grubner told him earnestly.

A nice theory, if a little obscurely worded, but what did these wide-eyed flower children of the future have to offer him? Or he them? None of his old ways of relating to people made sense anymore. Women had no interest in sleeping with him for his money or the opportunity to kill him. A few had tried offing him for political reasons, to make an example of the capitalist pig, but even that hadn't happened for a good seventy years. Nowadays actual sexiness seemed to count less than one's conservation record, and there were only so many long-winded conversations about the philosophy of composting that Lex could stand to have. All things considered, he preferred his plan to actual human companionship.

"If you don't help me, Grubner," he thought for a moment, but there were no easy answers in a world where bribes and threats were equally meaningless, "I'll be very disappointed."

Grubner's expression was all sympathy, even as he sighed. "I can't make any promises, but I'll see what I can do."

Lex nodded, satisfied for the moment. Being pathetic was a small price to pay to get what he wanted. That's what he told himself, at least.

Grubner called three weeks later to say he had a prototype ready for testing, and Lex celebrated it as a victory for willful insistence. Grubner agreed to bring it by Lex's house. Nowadays most people lived in communal complexes, but the government had given Lex special dispensation to continue in his private residence, citing his antiquated worldview that made him "unable to grasp the modern philosophy of conserving resources." Lex tolerated the concession they'd forced on him, a sign posted outside the mansion that read "Memorial to the Age of Greed and Excess."

"Well, here it is," Grubner said when he arrived, sweeping out his arm like a game show model from days gone by.

Lex could only stare. His Bride of Frankenstein had hunched shoulders, a squarish head, crudely formed facial features. Lex was pretty sure that one arm was longer than the other. In short, it looked nothing like Clark.

"I gave you at least twenty pictures. Couldn't you have gotten the likeness any better than this?"

"Making machines pretty is a waste of resources," was Grubner's insufferable reply.

"And what did you use for its skin?" He poked a finger at its arm. It felt lumpy. "Clearly not biogel."

"I couldn't justifying using that scarce a resource on a project like this."

Lex scowled. It was times like these that he really wanted to go out and create an ecological disaster, just to show these modern-day conservation freaks who they were dealing with. It only added to his ire that Grubner's expression remained perfectly tranquil. Lex's scowl had lost its power long ago.

"Fine," he sighed. "Show me what it can do."

Grubner pulled out a control. "You can put it on auto-pilot, and it'll respond to a situation based on established algorithms. Or you can use this to manually direct it. The red switch," he pointed, "is the failsafe, if you need to turn off the unit for any reason."

Grubner turned on the robot and handed over the control.

Lex kept his first experiment simple. "Hello," he said to it.

The robot stared at him, unblinking. "Hel-lo," it answered in a stilted, mechanical voice.

"Have a seat."

It lumbered over to the sofa and lowered itself in an ungainly fashion onto the furniture.

"What would you like to do this evening?" Lex asked, just to see what it would say.

"I am programmed to provide satisfaction," it replied by rote.

"This is the best you could do?" he asked Grubner, with an irritated frown.

Grubner shrugged. "Zo, Mr. Luthor. I told you being a link in the human chain is where it's really at."

Lex sighed. "All right, then. I guess I'll have to make do with," he glanced over at the blank expression of his so-called companion, "this."

Grubner made a wry face. "Good luck with that."

Lex spent the rest of the evening having the robot follow him everywhere he went, get in his way as he tried to make dinner, promise over and again to provide satisfaction, which frankly gave Lex none whatsoever. At last, after stubbing his toe on the robot's metal foot at least four times, he sat down to eat.

"Join me," he invited the robot.

"I do not ingest organic compounds," it informed him and spent the entire meal looming over the table.

After dinner, Lex parked it on the sofa and told it to stay there and tried not to notice the vacant way it stared into space. Lex passed the evening as he usually did, reading quietly, and at the end of it, stood, stretched, and headed off to bed. The robot followed, and Lex told it, "Stay there." He pointed to a spot near the foot of the bed. The last thing he needed was it tripping him as he went to get his pajamas out of the dresser.

Lex unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it off and was about to do the same with his pants when the robot sparked to life.

"I am programmed to provide satisfaction," it said, with far more animation than it had shown so far. "Programmed to provide satisfaction."

It kept saying that as it set on Lex, ripped the remaining clothes off him, tossed him handily onto the bed.

"What the hell—"

Lex started to scramble up, but the robot was too quick for him, plastered across his back in an instant. Lex could feel something poking against his hip, answering the question of how anatomically correct Grubner had made his mechanical monster.

"Let's just take this a little slower, huh?" Lex said in a calming voice, hoping to get the robot off guard long enough to escape.

It answered by tearing its own pants open.

"Wait!" Lex shouted. "I need some—before you—"

But apparently patience was not embedded in its subroutines. Lex gritted his teeth and dug his fingers into the bedspread. His eyes watered so much it blurred his vision.

"Provide satisfaction, provide satisfaction," the robot droned as it fucked him.

This was just Lex's luck, to wind up on the wrong end of a human-sized dildo that had all the subtlety of a jackhammer. He rooted around under the pillows and blankets, desperately searching for the control.

"Satisfaction, satisfaction." The robot fucked harder, faster.

Lex groped around on the top of the nightstand and finally got his hand on the control. He jabbed a button, switching to manual override, maneuvered the robot off him and promptly shut it down. Its head slumped forward, its arms dangling at its sides. Lex moved his hips, testing how sore he was, hissing through his teeth.

Frankly, he had some serious concerns about Grubner and his notion of an algorithm.

The next day, Lex sent a communication that involved much shouting, and Grubner came to haul away his monstrosity.

"As failures go, this one was spectacular," Lex informed him icily.

Grubner frowned at him. "Are you limping?"

"I could have built a better android back in the 20th century!" Lex shouted.

"Zo," Grubner said, "and created a toxic nightmare while you were at it. I'll have you know that this android was made in a completely environmentally responsible manner."

"Well, that explains why it sucks!"

Lex suddenly longed for the good old days when he still had minions who enjoyed breaking kneecaps. He had to settle for saying "take it away!" in his most imperious voice.

Grubner just shrugged. "Whatever. I told you this was a bad idea."

Needless to say, it came as rather a surprise a month later when Grubner contacted Lex to say he'd made a second prototype.

"I can bring it by if you want," Grubner offered, nervously fidgeting with the sleeve of his shirt.

Lex had never seen him anything but serene, and he narrowed his eyes at the view screen. "If it isn't any better than the last one, I'm going to—"

Grubner insisted, "You're going to like this version. Trust me."

Lex considered himself the biggest fool imaginable for agreeing to a reprise, until Grubner actually arrived with the new robot in tow. It was tall, with broad shoulders, a beautiful face, bright green eyes, the same sensual mouth that had been tying Lex in knots for centuries. His hair was longer than the pictures Lex had given Grubner and his expression more worldly. All the snapshots Lex had of Clark were taken when he was a boy, after all. Lex didn't mind a more adult version. The only thing he did have issue with was the god-awful potato sack Grubner had dressed it in—fashion sense had gone the way of the internal combustion engine—but Lex could easily remedy that.

To Grubner, though, he was cool in his response, "I think I might be able to work with this."

There was only so much appreciation Lex was willing to show after that earlier travesty.

Grubner hung his head miserably. "I really shouldn't have done this."

Lex clapped him on the back. "Nonsense. It's an admirable use of resources." Really, these people took the whole conservation thing way too seriously. "Is there a control?"

Grubner shook his head. "This one is fully voice responsive. If you want to deactivate him, just tell him." He stopped, hesitated, then added in a jumbled rush, "I installed a learning program too, so it can adapt itself to you."

"A vast improvement," Lex assured him. "I look forward to testing it out."

"I guess I should leave you to it then," Grubner said hesitantly.

"Zo, that's a good idea," Lex said.

"That's not really how you use that word, Mr. Luthor."

"Don't let me keep you, Grubner."

When he was gone, Lex studied his robot in greater detail. It was uncanny, really, the resemblance, same broad chest, big hands, even the fine details of the face, all perfect.

Lex reached for the robot's arm, to see if it felt as good as it looked. "Very nice."

The Clarkbot returned the touch, rubbing its thumb in circles on the inside of Lex's wrist. "You feel good, as well."

Lex regarded it with interest. This was far more communication than the previous one had been capable of.

"What would you like to do?" he asked his new companion.

"I would like to get to know you, so that I may serve you. What are your interests? What do enjoy reading? Do you have a favorite meal?"

Lex raised a quizzical eyebrow. "You cook?"

"Yes," the Clarkbot told him, "I will demonstrate if you show me to your kitchen."

Lex led the way, and the Clarkbot familiarized itself with the contents of the refrigerator.

"Will crepes Florentine appeal to you?" the Clarkbot inquired.

Lex nodded, and the Clarkbot set to work, whisking up batter with efficient turns of its elegant wrist. Lex sat down at the table to appreciate the scene. When the meal was complete, the Clarkbot served it with a flourish, a plate for Lex and one for itself.

"You eat?" he asked, surprised.

The Clarbot settled across the table from him. "I have been designed to be an agreeable dining companion. How are your crepes?"

Lex tasted his dinner. "Delicious."

The Clarkbot smiled and proceeded to make small talk, "The weather should be nice this week, I believe?"

After dinner, the Clarkbot did the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen.

When it was finished, Lex asked, "So what would you like to do now?"

"How about a tour of the house?"

The Clarkbot's capacity for initiative was really quite amazing. Lex would have to ask Grubner how he'd managed it.

He led the robot from room to room, pointing out objects of interest, "a ceremonial headdress from the people of Malawai that was presented to me while I was president" and "a rug made from the skin of the last black bear in North America." The Clarkbot seemed to have a sense of curiosity, as well. It stopped in front of Lex's display of Warrior Angel comics and asked, "What's this?"

Lex did his best to explain.

"That sounds interesting," the Clarkbot said when Lex had finished. "I'd like to hear more of this story."

"Let's go have an after-dinner drink in the living room, and I'll tell you about Warrior Angel's adventures on the Planet Zenzor."

The evening passed pleasantly. It was nice to have company for a change, especially such a good listener. At last, Lex started to yawn, time for bed, and the Clarkbot followed him to his room, just as the other one had. Lex kept a wary eye on it as he started to undress, but it gave no obvious indication that it was about to lunge at him.

He bent to retrieve his pajamas from the dresser and tensed when he felt a warm hand settle on his back. "What are you doing?"

"I am programmed to please you," it answered.

Lex turned to face it. "What do you mean by that exactly? Because recent experience has shown that definitions do vary."

The Clarkbot leaned in and licked at his nipple.

Lex sucked in a shaky breath. "We may be on the same page, after all."

The Clarkbot's hands moved gently over his skin, across his chest, down his side. "I want to touch you everywhere."

Lex closed his eyes. He was already hard. "I'm sure that can be arranged—" The sentence ended abruptly as the Clarkbot put its hand down Lex's pants.

"I like touching you," it proclaimed.

Lex bit his lip. "It works for me, too."

The Clarkbot finished undressing him, took off its own clothes and prompted Lex toward the bed, maneuvering him onto his hands and knees.

"I will arouse you," it said, climbing onto the bed with him, "and then I will fuck you."

"How do you know I'll like that—"

A swipe of the Clarkbot's hot tongue across the small of his back. "Do you wish me to stop?"

Lex could feel its breath on his skin.

"Not anytime soon," he admitted candidly.

Happily for him, robot stamina could also work in his favor.

Afterwards, after the blowjob and handjob, the fingering and fucking, Lex lay weak-limbed on the bed, a pleasant buzz in his ears, slight oxygen deprivation from however many orgasms he'd had. He'd lost track of the exact number at some point along the way.

"I'm not sure what you usually do at night," he said to the robot. "Maybe you could go out to the living room and deactivate yourself?"

The Clarkbot draped its arm across Lex's waist, laid its head on his chest, closed its eyes with a contented sigh.

"Or we could try it your way," Lex said.

He folded his arms around the robot's shoulders. Mere instinct, he told himself.

In the morning, the Clarkbot was still asleep when Lex woke. He slipped out of bed and headed for the shower, whistling softly to himself. He stood under the spray, enjoying the heat, and was surprised when the shower door opened and the Clarkbot joined him.

"Are you sure you should get wet?" Lex asked, concerned.

The Clarkbot assured him, "I am fully waterproof." He reached for the soap and worked up a lather. "And programmed to tend to your needs."

Lex closed his eyes. After fifty plus years of celibacy, he could use all the tending he could get. The Clarkbot moved its soapy hands over his chest, down to his belly, teasingly.

"You're so sexy," it breathed against his ear.

Lex smiled. "It's nice to know someone still thinks so."

He leaned back against the Clarkbot, and it finally put its hands where he wanted them. Lex moaned, and the Clarkbot stroked him harder, rubbed its erection against his hip.

"God!" Lex gasped when he came.

The Clarkbot was quiet during its climax, although its hands shook afterwards as it washed them both clean. Very natural detail, Lex thought with admiration.

They finished their shower, and Lex went to dress. He headed to the kitchen for his coffee and found the table decked out with bacon and eggs, toast, cereal, a basket of muffins. The Clarkbot poured him a glass of orange juice. "I wasn't sure what you would like, so I made a selection."

Lex smiled as he sat down. Clearly, he should have commissioned a robot a long time ago. It would have saved him a fortune in alimony.

After breakfast, the Clarkbot walked him to the door, handed him his briefcase and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Have a nice day."

Lex went off to the office, still whistling.

Most days, he put in long hours, because although there was little to do at work there was even less to do at home. Today, though, he knocked off before five. "I'm the boss," he told himself. "I'm entitled."

The Clarkbot met him at the door, with a kiss, a drink, and, "How was your day?"

Lex kissed him back. Truly, he marveled at how lifelike the robot felt. "I can honestly say that this is the high point of my day. My week." He kissed the Clarkbot again. "The last several decades."

Lex took a sip of his drink. He was certainly glad he'd thought to horde liquor back at the beginning of the century. Using grain for distilling purposes had been deemed a waste of resources, and the synthetic stuff people drank instead was too shudder-worthy to contemplate.

"You need something to help you relax after a long day," the Clarkbot declared.

It dropped to its knees and unzipped Lex's pants. Lex stroked its cheek, such soft skin, and the way it looked up at him gave him a delicious shiver, those big green eyes, innocent and strangely eager, just as Lex remembered from so long ago. Grubner was a damned genius.

"I missed you," Clark said softly.

Then he leaned in, and Lex nearly dropped his drink at the first touch of that hot tongue. He was actually far less relaxed now than he had been before, but he certainly wasn't complaining about it.

The weeks went by quickly, something Lex hadn't experienced in a long, long time. There were so many things to teach Clark, strategy for chess, how to dress with flair, the art of foreplay. Happily, Clark mastered that last one rather quickly.

Tonight, they were spending the evening as they usually did sitting on the couch, kissing, slowly insinuating their hands beneath each other's clothes.

At last, Clark pulled back and said, "Are you ready to fuck me yet?"

Lex groaned. "Only for the last two hundred and fifty years or so."

The more natural Clark became, though, the more it started to feel to Lex like something was missing. He knew he must be the most contrary person on Earth, but this Clark was just too amenable, giving Lex whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it. Lex had even taken to trying to provoke him, making up stories about plots he was hatching at work, to melt the polar ice caps and turn the Redwood forest into a pile of woodchips. No matter what wild claims he made, though, Clark's response was always the same, "I'm sure you know best, Lex."

Nothing like his namesake, and that was oddly frustrating.

Finally, Lex put in a call to Grubner, "I need an adjustment made to Clark."

"Clark?" Grubner squeaked.

"The robot," Lex clarified.

"What's wrong with him?"

"No matter what I do, he won't argue with me, lie to me, suggest I'm morally impaired or tell me that I'm not trustworthy."

"And the problem is—"

"It's not natural! I need you to," he waved his hand in the air, "make him more infuriating."

"Mr. Luthor," Grubner seemed to have broken out in a sweat, "there's something I really need to tell you—"

"No excuses," Lex told him sternly. "Come by and pick him up tomorrow morning. I'll need him back by evening."

"But I really think you should know—"

Lex ended the transmission before Grubner could launch into another long diatribe about scarce resources. It was nothing he hadn't heard before.

Lex had no real doubt that Grubner would come through, even if he did protest too much. When he arrived home the next evening, that confidence appeared well founded. Clark greeted him at the door with a kiss, just as he always did, but asked, "Did you have a good day plotting the destruction of the ozone layer?"

Lex pulled him in for another, rougher kiss. "As a matter of fact, I did."

After dinner, they retired to the couch to make out, and Lex pushed it a step further. "I came up with a brilliant scheme for commandeering the world's supply of strawberry jam," he told Clark between kisses.

"That's very nefarious of you," Clark said, severely.

"Shameless even," Lex encouraged.

"I'm afraid you'll have to be punished for it." He tumbled Lex across his knee and brought the flat of his hand down on Lex's ass, just hard enough to make it sting. Not only had Grubner made Clark infuriating, but kinky too. Perfect!

"Have you learned your lesson yet?" Clark wanted to know.

Lex shook his head resolutely. "You'll have to punish me some more."

"I don't think a spanking is going to be enough."

"Probably not. I'm rather incorrigible."

"I have another plan."

He took Lex by the wrist, pulled him up from the sofa, hustled him down the hall to the bedroom. Whatever Clark had it mind, the first step was getting them both naked, a promising start. Not long after, Lex had his legs in the air and Clark between his thighs teaching him the best kind of lesson.

"I'm not going to stop until you renounce your evil ways," Clark warned him.

Lex smiled and stroked his cock in time to Clark's thrusts. He couldn't remember when wrongdoing, make believe or otherwise, had been so rewarding.

It was three days later when Grubner came to see Lex at his office, an unusual occurrence. The high-rise building was a serious affront to his environmental sensibilities.

"The adjustments you made to the robot are marvelous," Lex congratulated him. "Wonderful work."

Grubner shook his head miserably. "He's not a robot."

"You're right. Forgive me. Android," Lex corrected himself.

"He's not an android, either!" Grubner started to pace, more agitated than Lex had ever seen him.

Wounded professional pride, Lex surmised, and he did his best to mollify it. "Artificial lifeform then."

"No," Grubner insisted. "He's not—he's just...Clark." He twisted his hands unhappily. "Or Kal-El. Or Superman. Or—"

"My mortal nemesis?" Lex suggested icily.

Grubner's expression was all contrition. "I know. I'm sorry. It's just he came to me and said I'd be doing you both a favor if I played along. And you wanted company. And I really thought—" He stopped, looked down at his shoes. "But as they say, honesty is the one true thing."

"I understand," Lex said, voice tightly controlled. "You were trying to do something nice for me. I'm glad you told me the truth, even if it did take three months."

Grubner regarded him with surprise. "So you're not mad?"

"No." Although what he really meant was, not at you.

Grubner let out his breath. "Thank you. I mean, zo! I really value our working relationship, Mr. Luthor. I wouldn't want to do anything to jeopardize it."

"No, no chance of that," Lex said, hustling him to the door. He had revenge scenarios to plan and no time to waste on small talk.

"I hope the two of you can work this out," Grubner said.

Clearly, he'd never seen the exhibit at the Museum of Twenty-First Century Culture, "Superman and Lex Luthor: The Planet Was Too Small For Both of Them."

"Oh, don't worry," Lex promised Grubner. "I'll take care of Clark all right."

There were times when being a collector who never got rid of anything came in rather handy. This was definitely one of those times. Lex went to the safe in his office and retrieved an artifact he hadn't needed in quite some years.

At home, Clark came to greet him as always. "You're home early—" But when he got close, he stopped, went deathly pale, stumbled back a step.

Lex held up his hand, the green stone in his ring glowing brightly. "Do you like it? It's been forever since I've worn it, but I was feeling rather nostalgic today." He put on a dramatic frown. "What's wrong, Clark? I'd think you were doubled over in pain, but robots don't do that, do they?"

"Okay," Clark said, his voice rough from the effect of the rock, "so obviously you know. Could you put the Kryptonite away already?"

"I ought to shove it up your—" Lex said, even as he was closing the ring back into its lead-lined box.

Clark took a deep breath and straightened up again, looking no worse for wear.

Lex pointed an accusatory finger at him. "Of all the dishonest, manipulative, unethical—"

"But having a life-sized sex toy made in my image, that's fine," Clark said dryly.

"It's completely different."

Clark put his hands on his hips. "Why?"

"Because I'm me," Lex said, "and you're you. The expectations are much higher for you."

Clark rolled his eyes. "Still a genius of rationalization, after all these years. You enjoyed my company. Don't even try to deny it. Is it really so terrible that it was you and me all along, and not you and some robot?"

"In case you've forgotten, Clark, we're enemies," Lex said.

"No, we were enemies, a long time ago. And before that, we were friends. It's all ancient history now."

"A nice philosophy," Lex said, "but there's a lot that has happened that will be pretty hard to forget."

"On both sides," Clark reminded him.

"And it's not like either one of us has ever been good at forgiveness."

Clark sighed. "Well, maybe it's about time we learned. Because neither of us really belongs in this world, and the only thing we're ever going to have that makes any sense at all is each other."

To emphasize his point, Clark leaned in and kissed him. As a matter of pride, Lex would have liked to resist kissing back, although there was never any real hope of it.

The best he could manage was to blurt out between kisses, "You really are infuriating, you know."

Clark grinned. "I have it on good authority you like me that way." And he whispered into Lex's ear, the husky timbre of his voice enough all by itself to make Lex hard, "That and naked of course."

Lex pulled back and put on a show of mulling over the decision. "I suppose you can stay for dinner," he said at last, as if making an enormous concession. "We'll treat it as a test. If you can make it through the cherries jubilee without giving me a motivational speech on finding my better nature, maybe I'll let you stay the night, too."

"That's very magnanimous of you," Clark said, slinging an arm across his shoulders.

On the way to the kitchen, though, their detente hit its first pothole.

"Of course, now that you mention it, there is something I've been meaning to bring up with you," Clark said.

Lex sighed. "The silverware isn't even out yet."

Not that this was going to stop Clark. "Why won't you take Grubner up on his offer and help him with his remediation system? You know you'd find it interesting. More interesting than sitting in your office all day, coming up with dubious business schemes a hundred years past their prime."

Lex narrowed his eyes. "How do you know what I do at work?"

"Don't change the subject."

"No respect for privacy, that's the problem with aliens," he muttered.

"We were talking about you."

Lex sniffed dismissively. "It's a waste of my time, all this do-gooding everyone's so excited about now."

Clark gave him an oh-come-on look. "This from the man who once dreamed of ending world hunger. You're just being contrary."

"Well, what about you?" Lex demanded. "You could get involved. Doing what you can makes this a can-do world."

"They don't want my help." He pulled Lex close and kissed him. "So I guess I'll just have to keep myself busy tending to your needs."

Lex gave the prospect some consideration. "Would that include greeting me when I get home from work?"

Clark smiled. "Very enthusiastically."

"With a kiss and a drink and—"

Clark whispered in his ear, "Everything."

Lex sank his fingers into Clark's hair and kissed him, perhaps not quite hard enough to make up for all the years they'd spent alone, but not for lack of trying. "I suppose environmental remediation systems could be interesting, after all," he decided.