The Perfect Life

by Cleo

November 25, 2010 - Thanksgiving

Penthouse in LexCorp Towers

"Clark? Have you seen my keys?"

Clark looked up from the sofa where he was sitting watching television, engrossed in the coverage of the annual Metropolis Thanksgiving Day Parade that was just getting underway.

"Umm...I think they're still on the counter in the kitchen." He cocked his head inquisitively at the sight of Lex slipping into his navy peacoat. "Where're you going?

"I'm just going to get a bottle of that wine your Mom likes," Lex answered over his shoulder as he headed to the kitchen for his keys. "I completely forgot to put it on the list when I sent Mary shopping."

"Lex, you don't need to do that," Clark called loudly, eyes drifting back to the parade. "Mom'll like whatever we have."

Returning to the living room, keys jingling, Lex said, "I buy it for her every year, Clark. It's a tradition. Besides," he added, picking up a thick folder from the sofa table, "if I'm going to take tomorrow off to spend with you and your parents, I need to have these signed contracts on Liz's desk for first thing in the morning. I'll just run downstairs, put them on her desk, then run right around the corner to Beacon's for the wine."

"Lex," Clark whined, knowing he sounded a little childish. "You were going to watch the parade with me."

Lex shuddered a little at the thought of having to actually watch very much of the Thanksgiving parade, but he knew that Clark watched it more for sentimental reasons than for actual entertainment. As a little boy, Clark and his Dad had watched the parade every year while Martha prepared their Thanksgiving meal. Lex supposed he could endure a little of it if it made Clark happy.

"As much as I hate to miss some of the parade," Lex began, rolling his eyes at his own sarcasm," if I go now, I'll be back before your parents get here. We'll have time to watch when I get back."

Clark was sitting sideways on the sofa, his long arm stretched out along the back, and when Lex bent to brush a quick kiss to the top of his head, he saw the ring on Clark's finger.

"You're wearing my ring," Lex stated, surprised and amused. He looked at Clark, eyebrows arched in question.

"Yeah," Clark ducked his head a little, sheepishly, and squirmed on the sofa. "I just wanted to feel...everything...a little longer. This ring is the coolest thing you've ever come up with, Lex," he said, grinning. "I knew you would take it off when you woke up, so while you were sleeping, I borrowed it."

"So once you get very far away from the ring, the soreness goes away?" Lex asked softly.

"Yeah," Clark nodded. "And once it's gone, it doesn't come back until you do me again."

'Do me'. Lex bit the inside of his lip to keep from grinning, knowing that Clark hated being teased about this. He thought it was adorable that at the age of twenty-four, Clark still wouldn't use the word 'fuck' in casual conversation, a funny little quirk made even cuter by the fact that he had no trouble at all chanting, even screaming that very same word during sex.

Lex lowered himself to a crouch so that he could be at eye level with Clark, and leaned forward to touch their foreheads together. "Wear it as long as you want," he breathed into Clark's mouth before taking the full lips in a tender kiss.

Sex with Clark had always been mind-blowing, and Clark had assured him that it was great for him too. But one day a few weeks ago, after seven years together as lovers, Clark had confessed that he wished he could feel the 'after effects' of their lovemaking.

Clark had always felt intense pleasure when Lex entered him, his nerve-rich erogenous zones apparently functioning similarly to humans. If anything, Lex thought Clark might be more sensitive to touch than other people. But the moment Lex withdrew from his body, all sensation was entirely gone, and Clark wanted something to remain, some lingering trace of feeling.

Lex understood exactly how Clark felt. He took a lot of pleasure himself from the pleasant ache he felt after nights as the bottom. That dull soreness and the memories that accompanied it had gotten him through many a tedious board meeting, a secret reminder of Clark and everything they shared.

Lex knew of only one substance that would weaken Clark, and never one to deny him anything he wished for, Lex had applied his inner scientist to the task and had immediately gone to work, experimenting with varying sizes of kryptonite chips, until he found the perfect balance.

The tiny chip that he had his jeweler polish, shape, and set into a platinum ring was just big enough to allow Clark to feel everything during sex that a human would feel, but not enough to make him feel sick. A slight dizziness was the only side effect, and Clark assured him that it was actually kind of nice - a pleasant little ‘buzz’. Of course, it affected his powers, lessened them, so Lex only wore the ring when they were having sex.

Another lingering kiss, finished with a quick peck and Lex stood to go. "I won't be gone long, then I promise, I'll watch the stupid parade," he said grinning.

Clark smiled up at him affectionately. "Just hurry, please," he said, as he watched Lex gather up the folder of documents and head out the door of the penthouse. He continued to stare at the closed door for a moment, lost in his thoughts, absently twisting Lex's kryptonite ring on his finger. Shaking his head a little as if waking himself, he wiggled deeper into the sofa cushions and turned back to the television, a happy little smirk on his face.

Lex walked the sidewalks of Metropolis like he owned the place, which he supposed, he practically did. But it wasn't his wealth and power that was putting the strut into his brisk stride. Life was good.

He had a partner, the best friend that he had ever had, that he loved, who loved him in return. He had been giving it a lot of thought, for over a year actually, and had decided that he was going to ask Clark how he felt about having a commitment ceremony at Christmas; a small, intimate service with just their family and closest friends present. Asking Clark was a formality. Lex already knew he would agree.

He had a mother-in-law, for lack of a better title, who adored and fussed over him. He had a father-in-law who respected him, a fact made even more satisfying by how hard Lex had had to work for that respect. Hell, he was even on good terms with his own father these days, thanks to the diplomatic efforts of Clark and Martha.

He was a highly respected businessman, held in especially high esteem for the multitude of charitable works he had funded. When he had gone public about his relationship with Clark, there had been the expected backlash, but a surprisingly large number of people had stood by him, no questions asked. Others, eventually realizing that the Luthor name, fortune, and control were still strong, followed suit. He still had his detractors, but they seemed to mostly be the dirt-flingers that worked for cheap tabloids.

In the last nine years, he had gone from having nothing, to having everything. It seemed impossible that his life could be so right and it frightened him a little sometimes, wondering and worrying if it would all come crashing down. But every time he witnessed 'Superman' perform some unbelievable rescue, he was reminded that sometimes, the impossible is entirely possible.

He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and hunched into his coat, enjoying the bite of the cold, crisp November air, but wishing he had taken the time to grab a hat on the way out. He was whistling a little as he entered Beacon's Wine & Spirits.

"Hi, Frank," Lex greeted the elderly man behind the counter. "I called this morning. I think you have a bottle of Brunate Barolo for me?"

"Hello, Mr. Luthor. I have it for you right here," the shopkeeper said. "Your young friend's mother must be in town for Thanksgiving. I believe it's her favorite, yes?"

Lex smiled, vaguely aware of the tinkling of the bell on the shop door signaling that another customer had entered the store. "Yes sir, it is. You have an excellent memory."

The old gentleman beamed at Lex as he answered, "Well, thank goodness I still have my memory. My hearing is starting to go, and my eyes..."

Lex looked quizzically at Frank as the man stopped speaking, his bright smile fading along with his words. It was only when he saw the fear in Frank's eyes and felt the cold muzzle of a gun pressed to the back of his head, that Lex realized his perfect world was indeed about to come crashing down.

Clark watched the parade progressing through Metropolis, eyes glued to the television but not really seeing anything. He glanced at the clock for the hundredth time and wondered what was taking Lex so long. His parents were due any minute, and just as he had that thought, he heard the doorbell ring and knew they had arrived.

"Hi, sweetie," Martha said, grabbing Clark into a hug as soon as he opened the door. Jonathan, trailing behind her carrying a cardboard box filled with dishes, leaned into the hug Clark gave him around the bulky box.

"Hey Mom, Dad! Here, I'll take that," Clark said, relieving his father of his burden. Clark peered into the box and sniffed appreciatively. "You made cornbread dressing? You didn't have to do that, Mom," then added with a quick grin, "but I'm glad you did. Mary's stuffing is great, but it's not Thanksgiving without your cornbread dressing."

"And there's an apple pie, a pecan pie for Lex, and some muffins for breakfast in the morning." Martha followed Clark as he headed for the kitchen.

"Parade's on, Dad. Let me put this stuff down and we'll watch. Make yourself comfortable," Clark called to his father. "They're bringing Santa in by helicopter this year and it's almost time," Clark said with a boyish grin, winking at his mother.

Martha grinned back at her overgrown baby, hoping that he would never outgrow his childish enthusiasm for life. "Where's Lex?" she asked as she began unloading the box.

"He had a couple of errands to run, but he was supposed to be back by now. I'm going to go look for him if he doesn't get back soon," Clark said with a nervous smile. He was sure Lex was fine, but he wished he would at least call to let him know what the hold up was.

"If you want to go look for him, I can finish getting lunch ready.” Martha surveyed the kitchen, hands on her hips. “Okay, what needs to be done?"

"Not a thing, Mom. Mary cooked everything yesterday. She's got today, tomorrow, and the weekend off to spend with her family. We've got the food reheating on low in the oven, the table is set, and I don't want to start putting the food out until Lex gets here," Clark said, checking the time yet again. "Maybe I'll just run out...."

"Clark," Jonathan called loudly from the living room. "Clark!" he yelled again, this time alarm apparent in his voice.

Clark ran to the living room. "What's wrong, Dad?" He saw his father standing in front of the television looking a little pale, eyes wide, pointing to the screen. Clark's eyes followed the pointing finger and what he saw made his heart nearly stop.

The parade had become mass confusion. People were running and screaming, and a cameraman had zoomed in on the source of the panic. There, on top of a float, a bald man wearing a purple shirt and long, black trench coat had another, smaller bald man in a headlock, a gun pressed to his temple.

By the time Martha had registered the fact that the smaller man was Lex, Clark had twisted the platinum band off his finger, tossed it on the sofa table, and disappeared in a blur of bright blue and red.

Clark arrived on the chaotic scene, quickly using his enhanced vision to make sure Lex was still all right. He could see the deathly pale of Lex's face, sweat beading on his forehead, fear in his eyes.

He glanced around the crowd and noted, with no surprise, that two of his colleagues from the Daily Planet, Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen, were already behind the hastily erected police barricades with a dozen other reporters clamoring for the story.

It took all his effort to force himself to take on the efficient, yet detached persona of Superman. He and Lex were a very visible, public couple, seen regularly together both around town and in the pages of the society section. If the ‘man of steel’ were to become emotional about Lex Luthor, it would be all too easy for someone, like Lois for instance, to make the mental jump: Clark Kent = Superman.

Clark fought the temptation to fly in behind the gunman and just snatch the gun from his hand. He was fairly sure that he could move fast enough that the man would never know what had hit him, but Clark could see the finger that even now, was twitching a little on the trigger. Fairly sure wasn't sure enough. He would have to wait for that split second that the man was distracted. That was all he needed...a fraction of a second.

Within seconds, Superman was surrounded by police officers who were grateful that he had arrived and eager to fill him in on the details of the unfolding drama.

"What do we have, officer? What does he want?" Clark asked in the deep, deadpan voice of Superman.

"He's a nut job, Superman. Thinks that he's Lex Luthor. He wants Lionel Luthor to publicly claim him as his legitimate heir, and he wants everything that belongs to Lex Luthor...says it rightfully belongs to him."

A Metropolis police detective joined the group of officers that were briefing Superman, relaying what he knew of the situation. "He brought young Mr. Luthor to the parade because he knew there would be extensive television coverage. He's just made his demands on-camera to Lionel Luthor, and now he wants the helicopter they brought in for the parade. He says that he'll contact us later, and that if his demands are met, he'll release the 'imposter' unharmed."

"Give him the helicopter."

"Can't do it, Superman. A S.W.A.T. team is on the way and they ordered us not to let him take off. They say there's no chance he'll release his hostage...that if we let him out of here, Mr. Luthor's a dead man."

"Is he asking for a pilot, or is he planning to fly that thing himself?"

"He specifically said that he would be flying the copter. He's afraid that we would send in a member of the S.W.A.T. team instead of the regular pilot. He's right...that's exactly what we would do."

"Perfect." Clark narrowed his eyes as he continued to monitor Lex and his kidnapper. "He'll eventually have to lower the gun to fly that helicopter, even if it's just for a second. That's all I need. Give him the helicopter," Clark repeated in a voice that brooked no argument.

"Yes, sir," the detective replied and began making the necessary calls.

Jonathan sat on the sofa in the penthouse, glued to the television, occasionally running his hands through his hair and unknowingly making it stand up, spiky and wild.

Martha was afraid to look at the screen; afraid that if she did, she would see Lex being shot, and that was an image that she knew she couldn't live with.

She looked down curiously at the ring Clark had thrown on the sofa table, wondering why he had taken the time to remove a piece of jewelry in his obvious haste to get to Lex. Maybe Clark had been wearing this ring for a while and was afraid that if someone saw it on Superman's hand, they would be able to identify him.

It was a beautiful ring. She held it up to her face to admire it more closely and frowned a little in confusion when she saw the tiny green setting. It looked a little like...

"We should go down there, Martha." Jonathan's worried voice interrupted her thoughts. "We need to be there for Clark in case...," he trailed off uncomfortably. He took a deep breath before finishing. "If something happens to Lex and Superman falls apart, people might make the connection. We need to be there."

Martha looked up at Jonathan and smoothed his hair back down into a semblance of order. "You're right, honey. Let's go."

The helicopter had just landed, and Clark watched intently as the gunman ordered the pilot out, then forced Lex to awkwardly climb in with him, gun still pressed firmly to Lex's temple, arm still locked around Lex's neck. Settling into the pilot's seat, the deranged man finally released Lex, but kept the gun carefully trained on his captive. He began working the controls, and the helicopter made a slow ascent.

Clark watched with his x-ray vision as the copter rose high into the air, and the moment he saw the man lower his gun hand to better operate the flight controls, muzzle finally pointing away from Lex, Superman made his move. In a whoosh of sound and a barely visible blur, he was crashing his arm through the window of the helicopter and wrenching the gun from the crazed man's hand.

"What...who...," the man stuttered. His face was a study in surprise and utter confusion and Clark had the vague thought that the man had apparently not heard of ‘Superman’, had not heard of what he was capable of doing.

In his shock, the kidnapper had fallen forward into the stick control and the helicopter began a hurtling, forward dive. Clark had a moment to register the overwhelming fear and the look of intense nausea on Lex's face, before he easily flew under the copter, catching it and easing it to the ground.

Superman pulled Lex's assailant from the helicopter and gladly gave the man up to the team of S.W.A.T. officers that had immediately surrounded them. He was vaguely aware of pictures being snapped and reporters around the fringes of the crowd, straining to get past the police barricades and calling to him for a statement, "Superman! Superman!"

"Superman? Superman?" The lunatic sneered as he was being led away by the officers. "You should learn to mind your own business, stay out of things that don't concern you. I will get you for this," the man screamed hysterically as he was pulled along, hands cuffed behind his back. "Remember, Superman...you're a dead man. It's just a question of how soon." (1)

Clark felt a shiver of unease run up his spine, but quickly dismissed it, turning to help Lex out of the helicopter. When Lex looked up, Clark could see that he was swallowing convulsively. He remembered a moment too late just how much Lex hated to fly, when his lover, trembling violently, promptly vomited his breakfast all over Superman's boots.

Clark held Lex upright by his shoulders, and when the worst of the nausea had passed, he laid a hand on Lex's back. With a look calculated to let Clark know that he was going to be all right, and a barely perceptible shake of his head, Lex effectively reminded him that Superman should not be caressing Lex Luthor's back.

Clark pulled quickly away, hating the charade they were forced to perform. "Mr. Luthor. You'll be all right now. Can I get you anything?" Superman asked in a deep, emotionless voice.

"I need Clark," Lex replied simply, fixing Superman's eyes with a meaningful look.

"Would that be Clark Kent? I'll get him for you. Where can I find Mr. Kent?" Clark asked, feeling ridiculous, but all too aware of the reporters around them, watching and listening. He could hear Lois's voice calling out, trying to get Superman's attention, and when he glanced up, he saw Jimmy snap a picture.

"LexCorp Towers...penthouse," Lex answered.

Clark looked up and saw his parents being held back by police. Lex, following his gaze, motioned to the officers to let them through. As Superman sped off to retrieve ‘Mr. Kent’, he saw Lex being embraced by his mother, glad that there would be someone with him. Clark would have to wait at least a few minutes before returning so that he wouldn't arouse any suspicions. This was the dual identity at its most burdensome.

Clark hurried back as soon as was plausible. Recognized by the police officers, he was immediately let through the barricades and was finally able to put his arms around Lex, stroking his back the way ‘Superman’ had wanted to, feeling the tremors still shuddering through Lex's body.

"Mr. Luthor," an officer said. "You've had a traumatic day. Go home with your family for now, but please call us when you feel able to give a statement. We'll send a detective to speak with you."

Lex nodded his agreement. With Clark's arm around his shoulders, Martha and Jonathan walking behind them, and surrounded by the police officers that had been assigned to escort them, their little entourage trooped towards the police car that would take them all home.

Clark pulled Lex in a little closer, a little tighter. He hated the fact that, in order to preserve Lex's status in the business world he operated in, they usually avoided public displays of affection in deference to society's discomfort with openly gay partnerships. But right now he couldn't stop himself from pressing his warm cheek against Lex's freezing scalp, and then turning his face to tenderly kiss the pale skin.

The rush of awareness that he had almost lost Lex suddenly hit him, a fierce blow that made him short of breath and shaky. He felt himself being overcome with an emotion so strong it frightened him, his eyes beginning to sting and water. Mortified that he was about to start sobbing in the streets of Metropolis, he tried to shake it off, distracting himself by leaning in closer to ask Lex softly, "So...feeling better? Ready for a huge Thanksgiving dinner?"

Lex looked up at him warily, his face still carrying a trace of his earlier queasiness. "I can...try," he answered uncertainly.

"Well, look at it this way," Clark said, grinning. He placed a large warm, palm on Lex's stomach. "You have plenty of room in there for dinner now."

The police car stopped in front of LexCorp Towers and the officers escorted Lex and the Kents safely into the building. Lex shook their hands and thanked them for their assistance before they left.

He was greeted by his doorman, the man's concern evident in his eyes. "Mr. Luthor! I'm so glad you're all right." He nodded towards a small television on the reception desk where a security guard was sitting. "We've been watching all morning...can't tell you how relieved we are to see you."

"Thank you Paul, Jim," he said, shaking each man's hand graciously. "Bit too much excitement for me today I'm afraid," he added with a tired smile.

The doorman suddenly reached behind the desk, pulling a bag out. "Oh...Mr. Luthor. I have something for you here," he began. "Old Mr. Giordano walked over from Beacon's to leave this for you."

Lex peered into the bag though he already knew it contained the bottle of wine he had ordered. "I never got a chance to pay him. I'll stop by tomorrow."

"No sir. Mr. Giordano said to tell you that it was a gift and he said to tell you to enjoy Thanksgiving with your family," Paul explained. "You take it easy, Mr. Luthor," he added as they headed for the elevator.

Lex stood in the shower with his arms propped against the tile, head down and eyes closed. The steaming hot water pelted his tired, sore muscles, and as he gradually relaxed, he thought he felt his appetite returning.

Martha had been worried about him, and being the consummate mother, was sure that if she could get him to eat he would feel better. As soon as they had arrived at the penthouse, she had sent him off to freshen up, Clark trailing behind him, as she made herself at home in the kitchen and turned the oven back on to resume reheating their Thanksgiving meal.

Clark had been loath to leave him even for a minute, and after starting the shower for Lex, had helped him undress and had led him into the bathroom. With one arm wrapped around Lex's waist and his other resting gently on Lex's shoulder, Clark had helped him step into the shower, staying until Lex had given him a reassuring smile and said, "I'm fine Clark. Go help your Mom with lunch. I'm fine."

He wasn't sure that he was entirely ‘fine’. In the space of a few hours, he had gone from feeling on top of the world, to feeling paralyzed with sick fear, to feeling an increased awareness that life could never be perfect. There was always someone or something waiting to rip everything away. This was something he had accepted without question nine years ago. To the old Lex Luthor this awareness of the ever-present, always lurking dangers was just another tiresome facet of his life.

But then a loving, trusting, innocent boy from Smallville had made him believe that he could be safe, that he could be loved, and that his future held things a lot warmer and sweeter than business deals, corporate takeovers, and world domination. With the benefit of hindsight, Lex realized how quickly and easily he had been ready to accept Clark's version of life. And he had never doubted it...until today.

Clark and Jonathan finished moving the dishes of food to the table, Martha slapping their hands away every time one of them snuck a taste. "Wait for Lex. Please?" she admonished them. "Okay, I'm going to go sit for awhile until Lex is done with his shower," she announced, heading for the living room.

After one final forkful of cornbread dressing, stolen behind her back, Clark followed. "Have you guys thought about what you might want to do tomorrow?" Clark asked, walking through the archway to the living room just in time to see his mother pick up Lex's ring from where it still sat on the sofa table.

She examined it closely, then looked at Clark, the question apparent in her eyes. "Clark, this is a beautiful ring, but is that...?" she trailed off, squinting at the little setting.

"Oh! Here, let me put that away," Clark said quickly, taking the ring and heading for the bedroom. When he returned, Martha couldn't help but notice the flush on his cheeks.

"Clark, was that kryptonite in the ring?" she asked, deciding on the direct approach.

Jonathan had been sitting quietly, drinking a cup of coffee, absorbed in a football game on the television, but his head snapped up at Martha's question. "Kryptonite?!"

Clark shuffled uncomfortably, not meeting his parents' eyes when he answered, "Well...yes. It's Lex's ring. He had it made a couple of weeks ago. Don't worry about it...please?" he finished beseechingly.

"Clark, I can't help it. I'm going to worry if I know you're being exposed to meteor rock. Just tell me why," Martha asked in her quietly modulated voice.

"It's kind of personal, Mom...okay?" When his parents continued to stare at him, Clark knew that they needed a little more explanation than that, and taking a deep breath, explained as vaguely as he could, "The chip of rock is so small, it hardly affects me at all. It's just...sometimes I just need to feel a little more...human." He paused significantly before adding, "With Lex."

His mother's face remained confused for a moment, then a dawning awareness widened her eyes and her face grew pink. "Oh. Ohh! It's okay, baby...I understand. I won't say another word," she said, pretending to zip her lips.

"Well I don't understand at all! What in the world was Lex thinking, having that ring made?" Jonathan said, alarmed. "Why in hell would you knowingly expose yourself to kryptonite on a daily basis?" he continued, working himself up into a real lather.

Clark exchanged a knowing look with his mother, then averting his eyes and fighting a little grin, he said, with a tilt of his head, "Well I wouldn't say it's on a ‘daily' basis. Not always anyway."

Martha gave a little snort and quickly covered her mouth to try to hide her laughter.

"This is not funny, Martha. Aren't you worried about this at all?" Jonathan said, confusion apparent in his eyes.

"Jonathan, relax. It's harmless I'm sure," Martha began soothingly, but when Jonathan continued to complain, she leaned forward and whispered something in his ear.

Jonathan's face was a kaleidoscope of emotions as worry and confusion melted into blankness, followed by a flash of horror, and ending with a tomato-red wash of mortification.

"Oh, dear lord," Jonathan groaned, covering his face with his hands.

Clark, feeling that he should be embarrassed, but instead merely fighting nervous laughter, said loudly, "Well, okay then. I'm ready for lunch. How 'bout you guys? I better go check on Lex."

Before heading to the bedroom, taking pity on his father who was still hiding his face in his hands, Clark bent to kiss the top of Jonathan's head, saying, "Try not to think about it, okay Dad?"

Lex stepped out of the shower, burying his face for a moment in the warm, plush towel Clark had put out for him. So typical of Clark...always giving him these thoughtful little comforts. He wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped into the bedroom just as Clark returned, softly closing the bedroom door behind him.

Clark crossed the room to enfold him again in his big arms, murmuring into his ear, "Feeling any better? Lunch is ready."

"Mmm...yeah, I'm a little better," Lex sighed. "Just give me a minute."

He knew that Clark understood what he was really saying, give me a minute here...alone with you. As Clark began stroking his back, soothing away the last vestiges of tension, Lex thought about the things in his life that he was thankful for, but that now filled him with an uneasy dread of losing.

He thought of Martha and Jonathan coming to the scene of his ordeal, Martha enclosing him in a warm, sweet embrace, heedless of his sweat-drenched clothing and the sour smell of his vomit - a mother's love. He had only realized how badly he was shaking when he had heard her soft voice whispering in his ear, "It's going to be all right, baby." Moments later, Jonathan's heavy, weathered hand had come to rest protectively on his shoulder as they waited for Clark to return.

He thought of the genuine concern he had seen in his doorman's and security guard's eyes, the devotion of faithful employees.

He thought of eighty-year-old Frank Giordano, leaving the warmth of his shop to shuffle down the street and around the corner in the cold wind, simply because he wanted Lex to have the wine. Expensive wine that the old man had made a gift...a gift to a billionaire who could have afforded to buy an entire winery.

He thought of the message from his father that had been waiting for him on his answering machine when they got back to the penthouse, "Lex, the police called to say that you had been recovered safely." A pause, then with a concern that even Lex could hear, "Are you all right, son? Call me if you need anything."

And now Clark. Wrapped in the strongest, safest arms in the world, holding each other closely, telling each other everything without saying a single word, their actions speaking for them.

Clark's soft, reverent kisses scattered over his scalp, dotting his cheeks, his chin, the tip of his nose, said, I love you...I almost lost you...Don't ever leave me.

Lex's arms pulling tighter, his body leaning into Clark's, craving the gentle kisses, answered, I love you...I was so scared I would never see you again...I know you'll always be there for me.

Once again, the sweet boy from Smallville was reshaping his outlook by just being there. He felt his worries and fears slipping away as he realized that, yes, there would always be something horrible lurking right around the corner but until it found him, he was going to embrace everything good, sweet, warm, and loving that life had to offer. Life was good. It was...perfect.

Clark leaned back to look at Lex, laying his palm on Lex's cheek, concern evident in his eyes. "I'm okay, Clark. I really am," Lex said softly, before reaching behind Clark's neck to pull him into a deep kiss. Lex felt a smile turning up the corners of his lips when he caught the taste of cornbread dressing in Clark's mouth.

"Good. I'm glad you're better, because lunch is ready and I'm starving. Get dressed," Clark teased before pulling off Lex's towel and giving him a loud, open-palmed slap on his still-damp behind.

Clark went to lay on his side on the bed, enjoying the view while Lex finished drying himself, watching the play and ripple of lean muscle as Lex bent and stretched. When Lex slipped the towel between his legs to thoroughly dry his damp sack, Clark felt his own cock begin twitching with interest.

"If you don't stop looking at me like that, we'll never make it to lunch," Lex warned.

"You know," Clark began thoughtfully. "I had to take the ring off earlier. Maybe tonight you could..." he trailed off hopefully.

"Clark, your parents are going to be right down the hall," Lex laughed a little uneasily.

"So? I am capable of being quiet when you do me, Lex," Clark said, rolling his eyes.

Lex bit his lip to stop the grin. ‘Do me’.

Kidnapping, near death, and regurgitation aside, Thanksgiving had turned out pretty nicely, Lex thought as he lay in bed waiting for Clark to finish his shower and join him. Martha had arranged a beautiful table, the delicate taper candles providing a soft, ambient glow that had made Lex feel soothed somehow, and relaxed, basking in the warmth of being with people he loved and who, he knew, loved him in return.

Conversation had been light and happy, all of them carefully avoiding any discussion of Lex's ordeal. It seemed to be an unspoken understanding that they would deal with all of that tomorrow and just enjoy each other's company for the rest of today.

They were all feeling a little loose and giddy from polishing off the bottle of wine Mr. Giordano had contributed to their celebration, and when Martha brought the dessert out, placing a piece of warm, pecan pie in front of Lex, she had blushed prettily when Lex leaned over to kiss her cheek and say, "You made my favorite! Thank you, Martha."

After the meal, they had all retired to the living room to lounge, lazy and stuffed, sipping their after-dinner coffee. They discussed plans for the next day, and it was decided that they would go to the Heritage & History Museum, Metropolis' version of the Smithsonian. They continued to talk quietly until Jonathan stifled a huge yawn and he and Martha excused themselves, Martha kissing each of her boys before heading for the guest room, Lex and Clark following closely behind them to their own room.

At the sound of Clark emerging from the bathroom, Lex looked up. Clark, reciprocating some of the pleasure he had experienced earlier by watching Lex, was drying himself unselfconsciously, rubbing his body down with a fluffy towel. When he finally finished, and walked to the bed, Lex watched, mesmerized by the sight of the strong, perfect body that was his...all his. Lex had never felt terribly possessive about anything before Clark, but this body, this man, he would not share with anyone.

The sight of Clark's long, thick cock bouncing with each step he took, filled Lex's insides with a hot, squirming ache and when Clark reached the bed, Lex stopped him with a palm laid flatly on Clark's belly. He sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed, running his hands over Clark's hips and around to squeeze his buttocks, before burying his face in his Clark's groin, caressing the hardening organ with his face and nuzzling into the wiry hair at the base. When the beautiful cock responded by standing straight up, Lex bent his head a little lower to lick the sack beneath, gently pulling the thin skin between his lips and sucking.

At the warm sensation of Clark's huge hand gently fondling his scalp, he looked up to see Clark watching him with heavy, half-closed lids, sculpted chest heaving, and Lex maintained that eye contact, even as he opened his mouth wide and slid, in one smooth, even stroke, down Clark's length. He inhaled deeply, dizzy with the scent of the man he loved more than life, and began the firm, purposeful bob of his head. He pulled off to swirl his tongue around the tip, dipping into Clark's slit to taste the leak of salty fluid.

Lex was surprised when Clark pulled suddenly away to sit beside him on the bed. Leaning into Lex to touch their noses together as they shared each other's breath, Clark whispered, "I want to come with you." Clark's eyes were practically glowing with a heat that after all their years together, still made Lex's legs turn to jelly. With an enigmatic smile, Clark stood and went to the dresser.

When he returned, he sat beside Lex again, taking his hand and pressing a warm, wet kiss on it before slipping the kryptonite ring onto Lex's ring finger. They smiled knowingly at each other, Lex laughing a little and shaking his head. "You really like this thing don't you?" Lex teased.

Clark grinned, that huge grin that pretty much guaranteed he would get anything he wanted. And as always, it worked. Lex kissed a trail that began with Clark's full, wet lips, slid up his jaw, and terminated with a gentle nip to his ear lobe, before he murmured throatily, "Anything for you, Clark...I would do anything for you."

Their kissing became fevered and hungry, their hands roaming to stroke shoulders and thighs, bellies and cocks. Their fingers worked to pinch and worry erect nipples, to smooth and worship cheekbones and collarbones. And when Lex maneuvered Clark until he was rolled over and spread wide with a pillow pressing into his stomach, they were both panting and aching.

Lex settled himself comfortably behind Clark, stretching out on his stomach on the soft sheets and enjoying the perfect view of Clark's sweet, rounded ass. He ran a finger teasingly up and down Clark's perineum and reached under to cup and gently squeeze his balls, smiling as Clark twitched and wriggled.

Wonder how quickly I could make him say 'fuck', Lex mused to himself, grinning. He laid a warm palm flatly on each cheek, pushing up and apart to separate them, and moved in closer to touch his tongue to Clark's crinkled hole.

Clark bucked against the pillow and moaned softly into the sheets as Lex continued his gentle assault, licking purposefully, alternating between making his tongue sharp and pointed, and flat and just sloppily wet. Lex was getting a little dizzy from the intense pleasure he felt just hearing Clark panting and groaning.

Smiling even as he continued to lick, Lex thought, any minute now, and Clark whispered, "Oh god...oh dear god." Lex licked a little harder and thought, just a little more and Clark whined, "Ahhh Lex...Lex". Lex pushed his tongue as far into the now-relaxed hole as he could manage, reaching up at the same time to stroke Clark’s perineum with his thumb, and thought, almost there now, and Clark lifted his head and yelled, "Oh FUCK! Oh god...oh fuck!"

Lex pulled away, laughing. "Shh, shh...parents down the hall, remember?" Lex reminded him, still chuckling.

"Shut up, Lex," Clark said, but he was grinning as Lex slid up his body and kissed him quickly.

He lay heavily on Clark's back, covering him and curling his head down for another kiss, licking Clark's lips and stroking into his mouth. Clark's breathing became heavier, faster and Lex knew that it was because he was tasting himself on Lex's tongue. "I'm so ready," he whispered, fixing Lex with a heated gaze that made Lex's heart race.

Lex nodded, smiling, and rolled off of Clark to lean over to the nightstand, removing the tube of lubricant from the drawer, and grabbing the box of tissues. He moved to straddle Clark's thighs, taking a little time to pet and massage the firm muscles of Clark's bottom, soothing and relaxing. After coating his fingers liberally with the slippery gel, he gently pressed in, stroking and stretching, twisting to press down on the tiny gland inside, and reveling in the sound of Clark's gasps and whimpers.

"Okay, babe...ready?" Lex asked as he withdrew his fingers and covered his cock with even more lubricant. When the dark, curly head pressed face down into the sheets nodded in affirmation, Lex took his cock in hand and slowly worked his way into Clark, gently but firmly nudging the head in, rocking a little to ease the way. He breeched the tight ring of muscle, the head of his cock slipping inside, and he heard a hiss and what sounded like a muffled little sob from the face buried in the sheets.

"Sorry, sorry. You okay?" Lex asked, growing instantly still.

Clark lifted his head to say, "Yeah. Just give me a second."

"Say the word, babe and I'll take the ring off."

"No. No, I don't want you to do that," Clark said quickly.

Lex smoothed his hand in gentle, soothing caresses down Clark's back and sides and to his hips, admiring the glittering ring on his finger as it caught and reflected the dim light from the lamp on the nightstand, marveling at the ring's ability to make it possible for Clark to finally experience the pleasure of the pain.

Seven years together, Lex thought smiling, and because of a piece of jewelry, their last few encounters had been like the first time all over again. No, he amended, not exactly like the first time. Clark had needed understanding and patience emotionally in those days, but physically, it had been easy. The incredible intimacy of working through it together was the same though, something sweet and private shared between them alone.

Clark took a deep breath and said, "Okay, more, I think."

Lex leaned forward, petting his fingers over soft, dark curls before he whispered in Clark's ear, "Push out, Clark."

"What?"

Lex reached between them to touch where their bodies were joined. Stroking the stretched edges of Clark's opening with a fingertip, he repeated, "Push...here."

When Lex felt the tight muscle undulate and open wider for him, he knew that Clark had understood. He resumed the slow push, sliding in, and the gasps and moans escaping Clark were now from pure pleasure. Lex moved slowly, steadily until Clark's body grew accustomed to his thrusts, Clark's back arching, hips straining to meet each stroke.

Each of Lex's senses worked together to inflame him and spur him on, faster and harder: the sight of Clark's beautiful body, glistening with a sheen of sweat and writhing into the sheets; the sound of Clark's grunts and groans, and of the sensuous slap of his abdomen against Clark's ass; the scent of sex and clean sweat rising to his nostrils, the scent of their lovemaking; the dark, musky taste of Clark, still strong on his tongue; and the feel...oh, the feel of Clark's tight, hot channel gripping him, squeezing him.

Lex knew he didn't have much longer, and when he went over the edge, he wanted Clark with him. He slipped a hand under Clark's hip and tugged. "Up," he groaned, pulling as Clark struggled to raise himself onto knees and elbows. Lex leaned forward to press desperate kisses to Clark's smoothly muscled back before reaching around and under, wrapping his hand around Clark's straining cock and tugging, stroking in time with his thrusts.

"Come on, baby...come on," Lex begged, pushing harder and faster, and when his thumb stroked across the slippery head of his lover's cock, Clark arched and tensed, panting, "Lex...fuck, fuck, FUCK," as he jerked in tandem with the spurts of hot liquid shooting from his body. This time Lex couldn't laugh as the sensory overload shorted his brain, and he was coming. "Unnhh...oh Jesus, Clark...oh baby," his voice a hoarse rasp, his cock jerking deep inside Clark's body, filling him.

They collapsed into a boneless, sweaty heap, Lex draped heavily over Clark's back. He lay senseless for long moments, dozing a little, but awake enough to press lazy kisses to the damp skin of Clark's shoulder. With a groan, he rolled off Clark and pulled a few tissues from the box, then tucked them between the cheeks of Clark's bottom. "We don't need another wet spot," he explained.

Clark rolled over on his back and scooted over to the other side of the large bed, smiling up at Lex through sleepy eyes. "Hmm…the wet spot is on your side of the bed, you know."

Lex grinned and followed him over, "Yeah, so you're going to share your side with me." He settled comfortably on his back, Clark moving to curl up beside him, resting his head on Lex's chest.

Lex's hand moved automatically to weave through Clark's hair, pulling him in even closer. As he stroked Clark's hair, he studied the ring again, watching it glitter and shine, the tiny little stone glowing just from being so near to Clark. He slipped the ring from his finger, picked up the limp hand resting heavily on his chest, and slid the ring on Clark's finger.

"For tomorrow," he murmured, closing his eyes and breathing in the sweet scent of Clark's hair before kissing the top of his head. The image of his hands slipping the ring on Clark's finger reminded him of the decision he had recently made.

"Clark?"

"Hmm?"

"You love me right?" Lex murmured.

"You know I do, Lex."

"And you'll never leave me?" Lex asked.

Clark looked up, a little worry in his eyes. "Never, Lex. What's this about?" he answered, then relaxed when he saw the content little smile playing on Lex's lips.

"I've been thinking..." Lex began.

"Uh oh..."

"Seriously, Clark. I've been thinking. I want to make it official. I want to make us official. I want to make a statement."

Clark's eyes grew wide as he asked, "What statement?"

"I want to show everyone - our parents, our friends, everyone - that you belong to me, I belong to you. I want a commitment ceremony. This Christmas." Lex smiled, then laughed at the huge, happy grin his little speech had elicited from Clark.

"A ceremony? Really? You'll have to say the words, Lex," Clark teased.

"I can say the words, Clark."

"In front of people? In front of everyone?"

"Yes," Lex replied.

"In front of my Mom, your Dad..."

"Absolutely," Lex interrupted.

"In front of my Dad?"

"..."

Chuckling, Clark lay his head back down, snuggling into Lex and petting his chest. "It's okay. You have a month to practice saying it."

There was a long moment of silence, Clark's eyes drifting closed as Lex continued to stroke his hair. Then, quietly, "I love you, Clark."

It had been a wonderfully lazy day, Lex thought, and now they were all exhausted, but in that pleasant way that you feel tired after spending a day doing exactly what you want with people you enjoy.

They had not been in a rush, taking the time to linger over breakfast, enjoying conversation over Martha's delicious muffins and two pots of coffee.

Jonathan was acting a little strangely, though. Lex had caught him more than once staring at the ring on Clark's finger, after which he would clear his throat, turn red, and look nervous and fidgety. Hmm…maybe he recognized the tiny stone was kryptonite and it was worrying him. Not like Jonathan to not say something about it, though. Lex made a mental note to ask Clark about it later.

Everyone had enjoyed the trip to the museum, though they had not been able to cover everything. They had all agreed that Jonathan and Martha would return for another visit soon and the four of them would go back together and continue the tour where they had had to leave off.

Back at the penthouse, they had all changed into their most comfortable clothes and were busy reheating Thanksgiving leftovers when the phone rang, and Lex jumped up to answer.

"Lex Luthor."

"Mr. Luthor. This is Detective Mike Campbell... Metropolis PD. I'm afraid I have some disturbing news."

"He's escaped?" Martha asked, eyes huge and face pale.

Lex nodded somberly. "They wanted to warn me so that I could take the necessary precautions...step up my security measures. A detective will be coming by later to take my statement from yesterday."

"Who is this guy? What do they know about him?" Jonathan asked, worriedly.

"Apparently, from what the detective tells me, he's a psychotic who's spent a large portion of his life in mental institutions, escaping on a fairly regular basis," Lex explained. "Here's the truly frightening part; he's got a genius I.Q. A dangerous, psychotic genius - not a great combination," Lex said wryly. "His real name is Larry Lewis, but they say that for years he's refused to answer to anything other than 'Lex Luthor'. He's the son of an abusive and neglectful father who refused to get treatment for him, until after he had killed the first time, that is."

Clark looked sick as he asked, "How did he...what makes him think that he's you?"

"He's been studying my family for years. His muddled brain apparently thought it was somehow significant that his initials are L.L., like his idol, Lionel Luthor. When he was a boy, he read my birth announcement. The announcement mentioned that though my name was Alexander, I would be called Lex, following the grand Luthor tradition of double L's," Lex told them. "In his delusion, he somehow decided that he was the original Luthor heir and that I had usurped his position."

Lex's clear blue eyes locked with Clark's worried gaze. "We're going to have be on our toes," he told Clark with a tired smile.

"Oh sweetie, you don't think he could get past your security team, do you?" Martha asked with a shaky voice.

"It's that genius I.Q. that has me concerned," Lex admitted. "Every time he's escaped, they've tightened security, but he keeps finding a way out. He's been on the run for months this time. In that time, there have been huge sums of money stolen electronically, and the authorities are now pretty sure it was him. They think he taught himself to fly the helicopter from information on the internet.”

There was a long, tense silence before Lex continued, "While in custody, he admitted that he's been following me, studying me. Everywhere I go, he goes. Everything I buy he buys...every shirt, every briefcase, every laptop, every set of cufflinks..." Lex suddenly stopped speaking and four very worried sets of eyes were simultaneously drawn to the ring glittering on Clark's finger.

"Got it boss," the tall, handsome dark-haired man said as he tossed a small box to his bald friend.

The bald man looked up through narrowed eyes, surveying the man before him. He wasn't nearly as pretty as the imposter's lover, but he would have to do. "Are you sure no one followed you?"

"I'm sure, Larry," the man said, rolling his eyes.

Calmly, quietly, the bald man picked up the gun laying beside his hand, pointed it at his accomplice, and tilted his head, one eyebrow arched in question.

"Lex! I meant...Lex," the man amended frantically. A slow, measured nod and the gun was put down. The box was opened, and the bald man removed a platinum ring with a huge green stone and slipped it on his finger. Perfect fit.

"I wonder why he had a ring made with meteor rock?" Lewis mused out loud. "I'm sure there was a reason. I wish I could have seen the ring he had made, but with all of my money at his disposal, I'm sure he didn't cut corners on the size of the stone."

Larry Lewis admired the enormous, glittering setting from every angle. "Yes, this ring is perfect...just perfect."

The End?

(1) In comic book canon, these are the words Lex Luthor says to Superman, beginning their arch rivalry; Man of Steel Mini-Series, #4 (1986.)

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