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There could truly be nothing in the world more boring than a corporate marketing strategy meeting for a grocery store chain.
Despite this, Lex Luthor looked, as ever, awake and attentive in the sweaty boardroom he’d been locked in for three hours at this point. Quarterly meetings always took forever. Everyone had to review their previous milestones (sell more groceries) and go over metrics (a higher number was usually better than a lower number) before patting themselves on the back for successfully meeting those metrics (making the numbers higher than they were before). Only then could they talk about milestones for the next quarter (once again, sell more groceries).
It was sickening. It was unbearably dull. It was barely worth the surprisingly large paycheck. Lex was a top performer, and they regularly heaped praise on him for doing so well just a few years out of college, but their words were empty without action. For god’s sake, he thought he would at least get to do research (even if it wasn’t the kind he cared about), but apparently he was too good at it, and they pulled him into a more project-oriented role. Lex wanted to look at numbers, not sit around and decide which numbers were the most important to look at.
There was a map on the screen of branches in the Midwest, with a large blank space in eastern Kansas. Lex didn’t particularly care, until his manager pointed it out and asked what it was for. Then he had to care. Soon, he would take this boss’s job, if he didn’t strangle him out of general annoyance first.
Another one of the junior analysts, who was giving this part of the presentation, explained. “Um, well, in the past year or so we’ve tried opening up stores in these counties.” She used her laser pointer to unnecessarily point out the counties that she was talking about: Chase at the center, but also Greenwood and Marion and Lyon. “Unfortunately, they’ve all, well, failed. Janine wrote a report after doing some research, but basically, we think they’re probably just resistant to change and we moved in too fast.”
Lex’s boss waved the junior analyst away. “It’s no good if you don’t know for sure. Send someone out there to write a full report.”
“Yes, sir--”
“I’ll go.”
Everyone looked at Lex. Lex, if he were dissociating, also would have looked at himself, at the shock of hearing those words come out of his own mouth.
“You’ll go, Alexander?” his boss confirmed. Lex hated when his boss called him that. “But we need you here--”
“Someone needs to take point on this, and apparently the previous researcher in charge of investigating the problem didn’t want to bother. I know I don’t have a lot of experience with field research, but how hard could this be? I’ll have it wrapped up in a few weeks.”
“Fine, we’ll send you, Alex. Head out Monday so you can get started Tuesday morning.”
“Of course.”
Three days later, Lex Luthor found himself sweating off his entire ass because he refused to not wear professional attire, despite the fact that it was mid-July in rural Kansas.
The trip had been awful. First, he’d had to fly out to Kansas City, which would have only been a few hours, but he’d had a layover in Dallas for some godforsaken reason. Then it had taken two hours in the rental car just to get to the hotel, which wasn’t even in the same town as the center of the mysterious gap in coverage he was there to investigate. The hotel was musty and barely clean, and they didn’t even have continental breakfast. At least the drive to Smallville was only another 20 minutes or so.[1]
Lex, never a layabout, refused to waste the rest of the day in his hotel room, so he took a shower, changed into fresh clothes, and headed to Smallville. On the way into town, he saw the store that had opened a year ago and closed within six months. What a waste, he thought, though he didn’t pity the store, or his company. What a waste of time, of money.
Through his research he’d learned that one of the former managers worked at a gas station in town now. How wonderful, he thought, as he drove up and saw a pair of obvious teens smoking out by the side of the building. This must be worth more to these people than expanding their measly diets with food that cost less than the gas it took to drive out to buy it. (Lex didn’t care much for his company, but he looked down on anyone who refused to expand their perceptions of the world, and food was such a simple way to do so.)
The manager, a man whose name Lex would forget as soon as he finished writing up his report, was luckily on duty at the time. When Lex announced that he was there from the grocery store’s corporate headquarters, the man was definitely spooked, but he still obliged and answered Lex’s questions satisfactorily. He took him back to his office in the back.
The most important piece of information that he got was that there was someone in town who was convincing everyone he could talk to that Lex’s company was evil.
“Yeah, I think business started turning down once the Kent boy started writing those articles.”
Lex, who’d been taking notes on a little pad, looked up. “The Kent boy?”
“John and Martha’s boy. Here, I think I’ve got a copy of the paper.” He dug around in his desk before pulling out what could barely be called a paper, as it only had 6 pages, and one was entirely dedicated to advertisements. It was also a weekly paper. How quaint, to live somewhere where there was so little news it could all fit into this sort of thing. “Yeah, second page editorial.”
Lex skimmed through the article. Apparently, evidence suggested that once their stores moved into a town, they enticed new customers with various perks, but once all their local competitors had been driven away, they would change tactics. Prices would go back up, wages would be slashed, and most employees would be let go. By that point, there wouldn’t be any other choice, and everyone would have to continue shopping there.
“He’s been showing up to council meetings and stuff telling people everything he wrote there, too.”
Lex ignored the former manager. Whoever wrote this--Clark Kent?--was spot on with his research. But how had some hick kid found all that out? Sure, there were rumors on the internet, disgruntled people talking to each other, even a leak or two, but Kent had clearly gone through and analyzed the entire life cycle of the business and broken down the model for even the kinds of people who lived in small towns to understand. He would have had to talk to a lot of people over a long period of time in multiple geographic areas.
“I think I need to talk to this ‘Clark Kent.’ Where can I find him?”
“He should be out on the family farm for the harvest. I’ll give you some directions.”
So Lex drove out past the sparse trees of what these people considered a town and into the fields outside. There were amber waves of wheat as far as the eye could see, with the occasional industrial sprinkler making sure everything stayed watered properly. Following his contact’s directions, as well as a large rock that someone had cleanly carved KENT into, Lex managed to find the place he was looking for.
There was a country house, a barn, a silo, scattered sheds, and fields upon fields of wheat. There were three combine harvesters making slow laps in the field closest to the dirt driveway, parallel to Lex, and a pair of tractors that he could see getting hitched to carts. Lex flagged down one of the tractor drivers, a man in a cowboy hat and jeans. “Do you know where I could find Clark Kent?” he called.
“Clark? Yeah, I’ll let him know someone’s lookin’ for him.” He strode up to the other tractor driver, who was about to set off into the field, and relayed the message. Lex watched as that tractor approached the middle of the three combines and spoke to its driver. This time, the driver of the combine got out and switched spots with the tractor driver and drove it back to where Lex stood.
Lex, meanwhile, had grown tired of people relaying messages in such a slow fashion and was trying to check emails on his phone. The reception was abysmal, but messages did still come in slowly. Not as slowly as if someone had come to talk to him directly, though. Because of this, he didn’t really take in what the driver of the incoming tractor looked like until he had called out, “Howdy!” and climbed off.
When Lex had heard this person referred to as "the Kent boy," he had assumed he was about to meet some precocious teenager, bored in school, with a little too much time on his hands. But this was no teenager. "The Kent boy" was over six feet tall and muscular enough that it was safe to say that he wasn't just eating his Wheaties, he was regularly raiding the factory. He couldn't have been older than 21, but maybe he just looked older than he really was thanks to his sparse but dark facial hair. The hair on his head was curly and black, tied into a small ponytail, under a beat-up Kansas City Royals hat that almost matched his blue eyes. He was wearing a Kansas City Chiefs shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots, despite the weather.
Lex's analysis of the boy paused when Clark--stop calling him a boy, Lex--pulled his shirt up to wipe sweat off his face[2], briefly revealing a thicket of chest hair that narrowed and trailed down past the waistline of the jeans. The thought, doesn’t he get hot like that?, came unbidden to Lex’s mind. He squashed it down.
The young man wiped his hands off on his pants, then held one out for Lex to shake. “Clark Kent. Good to meet you.”
Lex shook. “Lex Luthor, sales and marketing for that grocery chain you despise so much. You as well.”
Clark grimaced, almost comically. Lex tried not to smirk. “I see my reputation precedes me.”
“Well, your company’s, at least.”
“I’m but a representative.”
“Oh.” Clark deflated a bit. Relieved? Lex couldn’t tell. “Well, I suppose you’re here about those stores of yours.” He had a bit of a Southern twang, though they were almost too far north for it. Lex wasn’t used to hearing that sort of accent.
“You’re correct. When I went into town earlier, I heard your name thrown around a lot when I asked about them.”
Clark smiled. “Would you like to come inside, Mr. Luthor? I think we’d both prefer to talk somewhere air-conditioned.”
“Lead the way, Mr. Kent.”
Clark led him into the farmhouse’s kitchen, then ran upstairs to change his shirt. Lex took the opportunity to look around. The floors were scuffed yellow tile that matched the curtains on the window. There was a genuine LIVE LAUGH LOVE cross stitch hanging on one of the walls, with family photos surrounding it. The whole place was so quaint it almost made Lex a little queasy. It was a completely different universe than what he was used to.
He thought he heard water running upstairs for a minute, but the sound was gone as soon as it came. Clark was back down the stairs a few moments later, hair wet, ponytail reapplied, a different Kansas City Chiefs shirt on. Before sitting down, he went to the fridge, retrieved a pitcher of lemonade, and poured glasses for the two of them. Lex thought it was presumptuous, and didn’t touch his.
“What did you want to talk about, Lex?” Clark asked. Lex didn’t recall giving this state college sophomore permission to use his first name, and he almost said something, but then Clark took a swig of lemonade and the bobbing of his Adam’s apple made Lex decide to leave the complaint.
“Well, Mr. Kent--”
“Please, just call me Clark, Mr. Kent is my father--”
“Maybe I should just call you ‘Kent boy,’ then, since that’s what everyone in town calls you?”
“Only if you’re okay with ‘Luthor boy.’”
They stared at each other for a second, but neither broke. Lex glared. Clark smiled, just a little bit, which only pissed Lex off more. So, he thinks he’s going to be like this to me? Lex thought. I’ll show him.
“Listen to me, you overgrown toddler. You may think your little articles are helpful and important to this truly miniscule community of yours, and that you can all band together against the big, bad corporation, but at the end of the day, whether you like it or not, we’ve got more money, more power, and above all, more time than anyone in this stupid town. Who’s going to drive around to all your town council meetings when your school starts back up?”
“My Ma and Pa can--”
“Who’s going to pay the rent for all the people laid off by our closed stores until they can find new jobs? The gas money for people with allergies to drive into the city to get gluten free bread, or dairy free ice cream? Things our store had, until it was shut down. Who’s going to give the hours back to the people who don’t have time to shop, since they can’t just order ahead of time and pick up anymore?” Lex smiled condescendingly. It was his favorite kind of smile. “I know it must be hard to hear all this. You’re young, you think you’re smart, and that you can solve all the world’s problems if you just try hard enough. But even if the people of this town are rallying around you now, the second you slip up, they’ll all go away, and they’ll all do what humans inevitably do.”
“And what’s that, Mr. Luthor?”
“They’ll all take the easy way out. Mark my words, boy. We’ll be back up and running within a year, and you won’t be able to stop us so easily the second time around.”
Clark’s face had gone hard at Lex’s speech, but at the end of it, he smiled grimly. “I look forward to proving you wrong, Mr. Luthor.”
“And I look forward to seeing you try.” Lex stood. “If there’s nothing else either of us has to say, I think I’ll see myself out.” He headed for the kitchen door, took a step out, and then looked back at Clark, still stewing at the table. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon, Mr. Kent.”
Unfortunately, threatening a college student usually wasn’t enough to solve one’s problems. Lex had to put the work in. He spent the rest of the week trying to figure out who the elected officials in the county were and attempting to sweet talk them. Most of them were farmers, and Lex found them easy to sway. The only exception was Smallville; word had apparently gotten round about Clark and Lex’s conversation, and though details were sparse (the kid at least had the decency to keep his mouth shut about that), no one in town wanted to talk to him.
Fine. Whatever. It wasn’t even the county seat, so it didn’t even matter. Luckily, said county seat, Cottonwood Falls[3], was having their monthly open city council meeting that very Friday. Obviously, Lex had to go.
There were only about 10 people in attendance. That made sense. It was the middle of summer, it was hot, the end of the work week. People wanted to go out and get drunk, not sit and listen to arguments about zoning laws.
Of course, of those ten people, who should be in attendance but one Clark Kent?
“Mr. Luthor.”
“Mr. Kent, fancy seeing you here. I don’t recall you living in Cottonwood.”
“That’s funny, I don’t recall you living in Cottonwood either.” Clark waved to an old woman as she passed him to take a seat.
“It’s a free country. Besides, shouldn’t a young man like you have better things to do on a Friday night like this? Better… pursuits to be following?”
“That’s very flattering of you to say, Mr. Luthor, but this is what’s most important to me right now.”
“I see you haven’t given up, then. What a pity.”
“I’m sure you don’t mean that.”
“I suppose I do always enjoy a fight. Especially because I always win.”
“We’ll see about that, Mr. Luthor.”
The tension between them didn’t recede, even after they took seats on opposite sides of the church where the meeting was being held. Lex found himself stealing glances at Clark, and he was pretty sure Clark was doing the same, though he never caught him.
When it was finally Lex’s turn to speak, he charmed the small crowd effortlessly with the usual spiel his company trotted out for things like this. Promises of exotic food, low prices, high wages, growth to the local economy flowed from his lips like honey. They were putty in his hands, though he could feel them slipping through his fingers when it was Clark’s turn to speak.
The kid had an entire PowerPoint (that it took the council ten minutes to figure out how to set up) about the company’s historic data and practices, testimonies from former small business owners who had been driven out, and things of the like. Lex had to admit he was almost impressed by the depth and breadth of the research.
He even found himself telling Clark so after the meeting. It was clear that the council hadn’t been fully swayed either way, but that was fine. “It’s a shame someone with your skills is stuck here,” Lex said, approaching Clark as he headed to his truck. “Just working on such a small scale, I mean. Mom and pop shops. If you were in Metropolis covering real news, well. You might be able to give me a run for my money.”
Clark smiled. Lex desperately tried to analyze it, see if there was something behind it, but he couldn’t see anything. “Mr. Luthor, you flatter me, but I’m just a junior in college. Besides, I applied for an internship at The Daily Planet and they turned me down.”
Lex took the opportunity to look Clark up and down. “Well, a shave and a haircut might help you next time…or someone with connections.”
“And what would that someone want in return?”
“You’re an intelligent enough young man, Clark. I’m sure you can guess.”
Clark frowned. “Thanks, but no thanks, Mr. Luthor. I want to get in on my own merit, and besides, I’m not going to sacrifice what I believe in for some shady deal to fulfill a selfish goal.”
“You know, I think I might almost admire that about you.”
Clark grinned a little. “Really?”
“Perhaps.” Lex jammed his hands in his pants pockets, as they were suddenly sweaty. “Well, I suppose that’s that, then, Mr. Kent.” He walked back to his own car, ignoring Clark’s heavy stare on his back the whole time.
Several weeks passed, much in the same way. Lex fielded increasingly smarmy emails from his superiors asking what was taking him so long in Kansas. They all blurred together in the end, condescending insinuations about his age, his experience, his ability to charm farmers (or lack thereof). The only bright spots in his monotony were a few calls to his sister and her caretaker, asking after her health and making sure she was sufficiently entertained in his absence. He ran into Clark a few times, but their conversations never lasted long.
Then, there was a break. Lex received word from one of his contacts in Cottonwood Falls that Smallville was going to be hosting a small festival the last Saturday of July to celebrate the end of the wheat harvest. There would be a local band, homemade beers, food trucks, even a few carnival stands and rides. Lex thought it sounded horrible, but since the entire population of Smallville was still avoiding him, it might be his only shot to get in their good graces.
Lex made sure to dress as casually as he could, in a deep purple polo and slacks. The summer was somehow even hotter than it had been when he’d arrived a few weeks prior, but at least this event would mostly be in the evening.
What had previously been an open dirt lot just outside of town had been transformed into a dirt lot with a load of temporary buildings on it, complete with over-priced parking. The music at the festival was very loud, and very bad. Maybe it would have been tolerable if Lex had ever been interested in country music before, but now he thought he’d probably never listen to it again. All the food seemed so fried that it dripped when he picked it up (and why was there Greek food this far into middle America?[4]), but at least he could wash it down with some clumsily brewed beer. When he wandered over to the rides and games, he could tell at a glance that they were all hopelessly rigged.
But not all hope was lost. People were actually talking to him, if only to be polite, and had left behind their open hostility. Lex decided to consider it a win.
At around 9 pm, when the twilight was finally descending into full night, the music was somehow picking up even more and Lex was distancing himself from the makeshift bandstand as best he could. He’d talked to everyone he thought was probably worth talking to, and he didn’t even know what he was still doing there. He’d taken refuge behind a trailer selling lemonade. As he looked at his phone and contemplated his exit strategy, voices approached.
A small gaggle of college students were approaching from the beer tent, and who should be at their head but Clark Kent? He was holding a nondescript red cup, but didn’t look at all tipsy, unlike his friends. Lex slipped his phone back into his pocket, looking to make an escape, but they caught sight of him before he could.
“Lex!” called Clark. He peeled off from his friends, making a beeline for Lex. Lex felt a flush of smugness go through him that he decided not to analyze. “I didn’t think I’d be seeing you here.”
“Well, here I am.”
“It just didn’t really seem like your kind of thing?”
Lex shrugged. “Sometimes you have to think outside the box to get a job done. Besides, I’d never had funnel cake before, and I thought I might as well try it.”
Clark’s eyes widened comically. “But you did have some, right?”
Lex snorted. “Yes. I did. It was somehow even greasier than expected.”
“Yeah, but that’s part of what makes it so good,” Clark said with a grin. “Unlike Kenny’s uncle’s beer.” He shook the red solo cup in his hand.
“Are you even old enough to drink?”
“I’m twenty-one!”
“And I’m sure you never had a drink before that, of course.”
“Of course.”
There was a bit of an awkward pause. “Well, I ought to--”
“Uh, Lex!” Clark reached out and touched Lex’s elbow, then swiftly drew his hand back. “I know you don’t really know us, and it’s probably not your thing, but me and my friends were about to drive out to the crick on the south side and, hang out and stuff. Drink beers, talk, you know. Would you--do you wanna come?”
Lex glanced over at Clark’s friends. They were still chatting amongst themselves, but every so often they’d look over at Clark and Lex, as though waiting for something to happen. “I don’t know about that,” Lex said.
“You sure? Everyone’s real nice. We won’t talk about work or anything since it’s a holiday, so we can really just hang out.”
Maybe it was the way the shadows played on Clark’s face, or his pleading tone, or the burn of where his fingers had brushed Lex’s elbow, but Lex found himself nodding. “Sure. I’ll come with.”
Clark broke out into a smile, and the next thing Lex knew, he was riding shotgun next to Clark in a beat-up old truck on a road that led far away from his own car to the opposite side of town.
If they wanted to murder Lex, now would be the perfect time.
No, Clark wasn’t devious enough to do that, Lex thought to himself. Maybe his friends, but Lex had the odd feeling that Clark would try to stand up against that sort of thing. In any case, they made it to the “crick” completely unscathed.
The kids (seriously, were they all old enough to drink? Lex didn’t want to get arrested in the boonies for giving alcohol to minors) pulled some fold-up camping chairs out from the bed of one of the trucks and set up along the meager bank of the meager water. There were even two extra chairs on the end, for Clark and Lex.
Clark, though, had other plans. He let down the tailgate and spread a faded blue blanket over it, then sat down and patted the spot next to him for Lex. “Let’s just hang out back here.” Lex paused for a moment--should he stick to the one he knew or try to ingratiate himself to the group?--but the choice was obvious. He sat down on the tailgate next to Clark.
They sat and watched Clark’s friends for a few minutes. Lex actually started to relax a little, despite all the bugs and the general vibe, but then Clark started to speak. “I know I said we wouldn’t talk about work--” Here we go. “--but I was thinking about, uh, stuff, so I just wanted to ask. Do you like your job?”
Lex, who had already begun forming a retort to the question he thought Clark was going to ask, stopped. That wasn’t what he expected at all.
“Like, just look at you. This is the most dressed-down I’ve ever seen you, and you’re wearing slacks. You came to the middle of nowhere Kansas to fight for a bunch of stupid grocery stores that you know aren’t any good. Is this really what you want to be doing?”
“Of course not, but you can’t deny that I’m very good at it,” Lex deflected.
“Of course not? Then what do you want to be doing?”
“Does it matter?”
Clark frowned. “Of course it matters. Come on. Humor me?”
Maybe it was the terrible beer Lex had earlier, or the cool summer air, or something in the rural water that was slowly poisoning his mind. Maybe it was the way Clark’s thighs pressed into his own on the tailgate. Either way, Lex actually told him. “I actually wanted to go into pharmaceuticals, or biomedical research. I have a sister who suffers from several chronic illnesses, Lena. She is not…able to be independent, the way you or I are.”
Clark nodded sympathetically, then took a swig of his beer. “So why don’t you do that?”
Lex opened his mouth to explain to this hick that it was more complicated than that, and that not everyone could just follow their dreams, some of us have people we’re supposed to care for, but then he stopped. For the first time in what felt like years, a fog cleared in Lex’s head. Why didn’t he do that? Screw his stupid corporate job, and screw being a stupid drone. He was Lex Fucking Luthor, and he could do anything he wanted in the entire world, and no one could stop him. The idiots he worked for should be submitting to him, not passively trying to ridicule him over email. He was smarter than the lot of them, not to mention more cunning and devious and willing to take risks, and… everything. He was just more than all of them could ever hope to be, all put together. If anyone was going to stand up and take what they wanted from this stupid world, it would be him.
He looked at Clark and thought about taking what he wanted, and said, “Maybe I will,” and he leaned in and kissed Clark full on the mouth.
Clark dropped his red Solo cup on the ground and kissed Lex back. His left hand went to Lex’s shoulder, his right to Lex’s face. His thumb rubbed gently over Lex’s cheekbone. His hands were rough from manual labor, and his stupid beard was scratchy. This was quite unlike most of Lex’s previous hookups (Lex forced himself to stick to those), but it wasn’t a bad thing.
They broke apart after a few moments, long enough for Clark to press their foreheads together and look Lex straight in the eyes. Clark’s own eyes were shining a brighter blue than Lex had ever seen before. Something about the dim way the cars’ lights and Clark’s friends’ lanterns lit the area? They were positively glowing. “You’re so…” Clark stopped himself, then dove in to kiss Lex again.
They made out like that for a few more minutes, uncomfortably shifting around the tailgate of the truck in the hot summer air. Clark’s friends seemed to be too involved in their own conversations to notice what was happening just twenty or so feet behind them. Finally, they pulled apart again. Clark’s entire face was red, and he was panting a little. “Um, would you, do you maybe want to go to my place? My parents are out for the weekend, so--”
Lex wiped his mouth and centered himself. “Yes. That would be…enjoyable. Go on and say goodbye to your friends.”
Clark nodded, left one more quick kiss on Lex’s forehead (how disgustingly tender!), then jogged over to chat with his friends for a moment. Lex took the time to pick up the discarded cups and attempt to put the tailgate back up. At one point he heard a cheer, including a female voice drunkenly yelling “Clark Kent Slut Era!!”[5] He smirked to himself and got in the cab of the truck.
Clark joined him a few moments later, somehow even redder, and they headed off. They passed by the makeshift fairgrounds again, and Lex wondered for a moment how he was going to get back to his car in the morning, but decided that was a problem for future Lex. Current Lex’s main issue was trying to decide whether or not putting his hand on Clark’s thigh would cause them to crash.
They made it back to the Kent farm safely, though, and Clark practically dragged Lex up to his room, smiling endearingly the whole time. When the door to Clark’s bedroom shut behind them, though, he looked a little lost. Lex took pity on him.
**
“Take off your pants and sit down on the bed.”
People in the past had assumed that due to Lex’s selfish nature, he would prefer to receive than to give, but this was not the case. In receiving, Lex ceded control to his partner, which he simply refused to do. So, he’d gotten quite used to what he was about to do to Clark.
As Clark shucked off his pants, Lex pulled off his polo shirt and knelt in between Clark’s legs. He tugged Clark’s boxers down and gently took hold of his dick. Circumcised, Lex noted. Interesting.
“Lex--”
“Shh.” Lex opened his mouth and started to take Clark’s dick in, stopping at just the head at first. He felt it with his lips, his tongue; the taste was not so bad, so he went further.
Clark’s hands spasmed like he wanted to grab Lex’s head, but instead he fisted the quilt he sat on instead. That was fine, Lex thought to himself. He hummed around Clark’s cock, making the younger man throw out a curse. A lot of this was supposed to be about finding out what one’s partner liked for future interactions, but Lex knew he and Clark would probably not have an encounter like this again. He decided it was safe to not analyze every second of this.
Clark was bigger than Lex had anticipated, so it was harder than he thought to take all of him in at once, but he managed to avoid his gag reflex so Clark could bottom out. His nose pressed up on hair and Clark groaned. Lex pulled back off again, watching the sheen of his spit as it trailed from his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the head a few times, looking at Clark’s face to see how he felt about that.
It seemed there was nothing Clark didn’t like. Well, maybe he’d just been pent up. Lex did feel as though he was doing more than his share of the work, though, so he said, “You can be a little rougher, if you like.”
“What?”
Lex pulled off Clark’s dick completely. “I said, you could be a little rougher.” He put the dick back in his mouth.
“Don’t wanna hurt you--”
Lex started bobbing his head back and forth, causing Clark’s hips to snap up. Maybe it was involuntary, but he still praised him. “Yeah, just like that,” he said, though it came out as more of a hum again. Luckily, this seemed to do the trick, and even though Clark’s hands were still fisted in the quilt at his sides, he was able to let go mentally and start fucking Lex’s mouth.
Lex grinned through the discomfort and reached up steady himself by grabbing Clark’s waist with one hand and holding his balls with the other. Much in the same way Clark had caressed Lex’s cheek earlier, Lex began to softly rub at Clark’s sac with his thumb.
Clark finally reached out and put a hand on the back of Lex’s head. “Don’t--” Before he could finish whatever it was he wanted to say, he came, releasing into Lex’s mouth. Lex started to wonder if he wanted to swallow tonight, but then Clark was pressing a tissue into his hand. “Here,” he said, almost shyly. “Sorry I didn’t, um, warn you.”
Lex spit the cum out into the tissue and tossed it in a direction where he hoped there’d be a trash can. He tried to think about his next move, but before he could, Clark was pulling him up onto his lap and kissing him again. Lex, pleased with where the night was going, let him.
Within a few minutes, Clark’s shirt (the third Kansas City Chiefs t-shirt Lex had seen so far) had been thrown to some corner of the room and Lex’s slacks were crumpled in a pile on the ground. Clark had sort of manhandled Lex again so they were both lying on the bed, facing each other. Clark was still kissing him occasionally, but he had spit on his hand (something that was absolutely not as erotic as Lex thought it was) and had his hand down Lex’s pants, awkwardly jerking him off.
It was like Clark was content to just stare into Lex’s eyes. Clark’s, meanwhile, still shone with the preternatural light that Lex had tried to disregard back at the creek. “You’re really pretty,” Clark breathed.
“Pretty?” Lex flushed. He’d been called many things, but never that.
“I like you,” Clark said. He pressed his forehead to Lex’s. “You’re the first person who ever saw me the way I wanted someone to. Like you saw me as the person I was trying to be instead of just who I am right now.”
Lex was too horny and not sober enough for that sort of conversation, so he wriggled a bit until he was able to kick his boxers off and pressed himself closer to Clark. “Do you have--”
Clark grabbed something off his nightstand and brought it between them; a small bottle of lube. “Always be prepared?”
“Of course you were a Boy Scout.”
“Eagle Scout and everything.” He flipped open the lid and squirted some lube onto his hand. “Sorry if it’s cold.”
Lex hissed involuntarily as the coolness of the lube hit his cock, but that sensation was quickly drowned out by what he realized was Clark’s dick joining his. Clark had wrapped his hand around himself and then Lex, and then held both of them together to jerk them off in tandem.
“Is this okay?” Clark asked breathlessly.
It felt good, better than Lex was expecting, even though it was just the slide of two hot bodies on an even hotter summer night. “More!”
Clark chuckled, but did as he was told. His forehead was still pressed to Lex’s, sweaty curls meeting sweaty skin. Lex reached out and kissed Clark again as fingers got tangled together over cocks between their bodies.
“Fuck, Lex, this feels so good--”
“You like it? You like how my cock feels on your cock?”
“Yes, Lex, I love--”
“You wanna come again for me? You think you can come twice?”
Clark bit his lip, somehow looking up at Lex despite the fact that they were nose-to-nose. “But you haven’t come yet.”
“You keep doing what you’re doing and there’s no way I won’t, I--Clark--”
Clark dove in to kiss Lex and panted in his mouth, “I’m gonna--I’m gonna--”
“Do it!”
Clark came with a groan, spilling all over Lex’s stomach. Lex came a few moments later with a small shout, then fell back onto his back.
**
“I can’t believe you actually did that twice in a row.”
Clark crawled over Lex and smiled at him. “Maybe I just had the right partner.”
“Maybe you did--”
Before Lex could finish his sentence, Clark’s eyes closed and he fell forward, knocking the breath out of Lex’s lungs. Lex tried to shift under him--after all, they were both still sticky, and Lex wanted to at least shower to get the cum off--but he couldn’t move an inch. “Clark? Clark, what are you doing?” There was no answer. “Are you asleep?”
Clark was asleep.
“Ugh.” He was at least able to reach up and pet Clark’s hair. “You’re lucky you’re…” He couldn’t think of anything to say to finish his sentence that would sum up what Clark was, so he didn’t. “Good night, I suppose.” Under Clark Kent’s immovable weight, Lex Luthor fell asleep.
The next morning, Lex was shaken awake by a version of Clark that could only be described as “bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.” Lex glanced at the analog alarm clock on the nightstand. “It’s five a.m. Why are you waking me up.”
“Time for chorin’, I figure I should drop you back at your car first though.” In the early morning, Clark’s slight Southern lilt was even more noticeable.
“It’s Sunday, can’t you sleep in? Or, aren’t you supposed to go to church or something?” Lex threw a hand over his face to block the early morning light streaming in through Clark’s window.
“First of all, I’m Jewish, and second of all, animals don’t care what day of the week it is, they still gotta eat. Up and at ‘em.”
Lex was not thrilled about being made to get up this early, and was even less happy when Clark didn’t let him shower or have a cup of coffee. Apparently, Clark didn’t even drink coffee and he didn’t want to waste a full pot for Lex to have a few sips before they headed out. How was he so alert when he didn’t even drink coffee? Was he even human?
So, Lex was grumpy on the drive into town and didn’t say much. Clark seemed to pick up on that, and didn’t bother with small talk besides apologizing for there not being any coffee shops in town that would be open at that hour for him.
They pulled into the dirt lot where Lex had parked for the fair the night before, but Clark didn’t make any moves to force Lex out of the car. Rather, he scratched the back of his head and looked at Lex out of the corner of his eye and said, “So, do you have any plans or anything for the next week?”
“Actually, yes.” Lex dug his phone out of his pocket. It wasn’t dead, which he counted as a win. “I think I’ll be flying back to Metropolis.”
Clark flinched. “Oh! Oh, that’s, uh, interesting. I thought your job--”
“I’m quitting my job.”
“What?”
“Clark, I think I’d like to make you a deal.” Lex slid his phone back into his pocket, now emotionally prepared to have this conversation. “I’m quitting my job, but I’ve been a top performer for four years, so I’d like to think I carry a little clout there. I think I can keep them out of your town for, oh, about two years? Long enough for you to graduate college, anyway.”
“What are you--”
“I’m going to need a little leverage from you, though, so in return, I’m going to need you to stop writing those articles until then, all right?”
“Lex--”
“Focus your efforts elsewhere. That internship at the Daily Planet, for example. I’m guessing you spent so much time trying to help this town that you didn’t prepare properly for that application, which is why they turned you down.” Clark frowned at this. “I assume by the time they’ve hired you full-time there, my new company will be up and running, and I’ll be able to give you an exclusive bigger than anything you could get at a grocery store.” Lex turned to face Clark fully. “What do you say? I’m not usually the kind to offer deals like this, you know.”
Clark narrowed his eyes at Lex. “You’re not going to try and use that ‘clout’ of yours to get me into the Planet, are you?”
“Not if you ask me not to. Besides, I think if you actually focus on it, you won’t need anyone’s help.”
Clark thought about it for a second, and then a grin bloomed on his face. “It’s a deal, Lex.” As was customary, they shook on it.
Lex climbed out of the cab of the truck, but before he could close the door, Clark told him, “I’ll get that Planet job. Don’t think I won’t.”
“I look forward to seeing you try.”
Lex got in his car and drove back to his hotel in Emporia. He showered, bought a plane ticket back to Metropolis for the next day, and began drafting not only his resignation, but his business plan for LexCorp. There was, as they said, no rest for the wicked.
Five years later, it was like LexCorp had revolutionized the biomedical world overnight. Lex had waited about a month to quit his old job, then used his keen financial sense that he’d picked up during his stint in the corporate world to play the stock market like a fiddle, making bank on investments. Before long, he’d made enough to set up his sister for life, and built a research company the likes no one had ever seen from the ground up. He took some time to find researchers from prestigious programs rotting away in low-wage jobs that he could prop up as a way to guarantee loyalty, and gained extra funding by writing federal and state research grant proposals that made lesser bureaucrats weep. And, it wasn’t as though they had nothing to show for it. Their research on paraplegia therapy alone in the coming years rocketed Lex Luthor to a spot in Forbes’ 30 Under 30, right under the deadline.
Despite all that, he wasn’t much for talking to the press, leaving that to the publicist he’d hired after the company’s first major breakthrough. Despite an ever-expanding slate of projects, Lex was considered to be shockingly reclusive to the media, answering only a select few reporters’ requests for quotes as he rose higher and higher.
That was why it was so surprising when his executive assistant/bodyguard, Mercy Graves, buzzed into his office one morning to tell him that his 10:00 renewable energy brainstorming meeting had been canceled in favor of letting some rookie reporter pick his brain.
Lex buzzed back, “Mercy, do I look like I have time to let some nosy newsie ask me about my five-year goals?”
“Well, sir, he did say he had an appointment. Besides, he’s from the Planet, so I assume he has some credibility.”
A five-year-old memory sparked up at the back of Lex’s mind. This had better be what he thought it was, or someone was going to have hell to pay. “Fine. Send him in. But don’t expect me to be nice to him.”
“You, sir? I would never.”
The door to Lex’s office opened, and someone shuffled in, but Lex didn’t look up from his laptop. “Sit wherever you like, but let’s make this quick.”
“Whatever you say, Mr. Luthor.” A hand extended itself into Lex’s vision, and he finally looked up. Before him was a familiar winning smile, no longer hidden behind an atrocious college beard. The eyes had their glow dimmed behind a thick pair of glasses, but there was no mistaking who it was. “Clark Kent, Daily Planet. I think I was promised an exclusive?”
Lex shut his laptop, then shook Kent’s hand. “So you were. Let’s begin.”