Current mood:

calm

I promised...
And thanks to a very quick beta by Peach1250, I'm able to make good on that promise.

My muses are packed and ready to go on a long vacation but they left this behind for all of us. They were smiling so I'm sure it's not all bad:



Rating: NC-17

*~*~*~*~
Prior parts can be found at:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
Part 15
Part 16
Part 17
Part 18
Part 19
Part 20
Part 21
Part 22
Part 23
Part 24
Part 25
Part 26
Part 27
Part 28
Part 29
Part 30

Epilogue:

Metropolis - 2010

The city spread below him, an unending sea of lights. Each luminous point was a life, a hope, a dream - something that needed to be protected.

Many of the people he cared about were in this city, although not all of them. Jonathan and Martha Kent still lived in Smallville, the family farm more successful than it had ever been. The contracts he'd sent their way, the people he'd served the fruits of the Kents' labor to ensured there would never be a single money concern for the Kents again.

Chloe was the other notable exception. When her internship at the Gotham Herald had drawn to a close, she was offered a permanent position. One that included a weekly byline and a beat she enjoyed working. The Pulitzer she'd won for her series about the Kents rescue secured her future and when she followed it up with a inside look at the life of Gotham's most reclusive bachelor, the Herald fell all over itself to keep her on board.

There was a furor of speculation about her relationship with Bruce and for a few months, their names appeared together in the gossip columns. There had even been rumors that Bruce's bachelor status was in severe jeopardy but those proved to be nothing but a smokescreen. She and Bruce were friends; he looked after her and made sure Chloe's transition from MetU to Gotham University was as smooth as possible.

But they were only friends.

Chloe's interest lay elsewhere. Her career was the driving force of her life and she was anything but alone. Every time he spoke with her, Chloe was working on a new story or getting ready for a date or her way out the door. While she always managed to make time for him, Lex kept his calls to a minimum. He, of all people, understood the pressures of a busy life.

For the past six months, she'd been dating the same individual and unlike his mentor, Dick Grayson was not insane. His occupation dovetailed almost perfectly with Chloe's and while the two of them shared a gallows sense of humor, they made a good couple. Lex expected to receive a wedding invitation any day but with Chloe, what one expected and what one got weren't always the same thing.

What really mattered was that she was happy. Deliriously so, if her most recent e-mail was anything to go by. He'd confirm its veracity when she arrived next week for her semi-annual visit and harassment session. Chloe was always after a story and the one she hadn't gotten yet, was his own.

It was a subject they danced around, Chloe asking and his dismissal of those requests cloaked in light banter that was returned in kind. Sometime in the near future, he would give her that exclusive. Until then, they'd exchange e-mails and phone calls and pointed barbs across the dining room table while his guests and family looked on and rolled their eyes at the antics.

Besides, Chloe working her story angle was a great deal more entertaining than facing her counterpart at The Daily Planet. Lois Lane, despite being stunning, had proven herself to be the source of more than one headache. She was absolutely convinced he shared the same ruthless genes as his father and therefore anything Lex did was suspect.

On the one hand, she was correct - being a cutthroat businessman was in his nature and in that respect, he hadn't fallen far from the tree. But on the other hand, everything he did was above board - his partnership with Bruce as well as his other relationships demanded his adherence to the straight and narrow.

The sound of his own laughter melded with the faint echoes of life below him. Well, at least he remained on the narrow end of the spectrum. Straight was an entirely different subject.

The familiar globe of The Daily Planet illuminated the sky to his left and Lex turned toward it. He lifted his glass in salute, toasting his adversary even though he was certain she wasn't in residence. Lois worked hard but two a.m. was late by anyone's standards.

The majority of the city was in bed by now, sleeping off their excesses, resting after a hard day at work and an even harder night. While his city slept, Lex kept watch. It seemed this time of night was the only time he found any peace. Everyone he cared about was safe and sound; he wouldn't wake in the morning to find them gone or dead.

Despite his current state of uneasy contentment, the past five years hadn't been entirely happy.

He'd lost people. Rhoades was the first to go, a victim of one of his father's ticking time bombs. Within a week of Lionel's death, the chief of Lex's personal security team took a bullet intended for someone else. Due to Rhoades' quick thinking and self-sacrifice, Lucas was alive today. He was alive and back in hiding where he would remain until Lex was certain every last one of his father's traps had been sprung.

For even though his brother's continued existence was a gift, the price paid for it had been dear.

Dr. Graves at Tantalus had been the next. The official report given to the press cited an explosion as the cause of his death, however, there was more to the story than that sanitized version. There actually had been an explosion, one that took out the majority of the lab he'd been in and left several other Tantalus employees severely injured. What had been kept out of the official report was the nature of the experiment being conducted.

That experiment had been highly illegal, a part of his father's legacy Lex hadn't had time to dismantle. The problem inherent in relying on Jensen's notes was their incomplete nature. He had targeted that facility for a reason but unfortunately that reason didn't come to light until it cost the life of Tantalus' director.

And left Lex with another problem beyond the clean-up and full audit of the facility. Dr. Graves had a thirteen year-old daughter, no surviving relatives and a massive estate. While the disposition of Mercy Graves really was no concern of Lex's, he knew far too well what could happen when a minor was given access to that much money.

To this very day, there were certain sections of Metropolis where his name was whispered in awe.

All it took was a few phone calls, a heart-felt appeal and within a day of their first meeting, Mercy Graves was standing next to him on the Kents' front porch. Martha appeared immediately, opening the door for both of them. As far as Lex could tell, it was love at first sight. He barely managed the introductions before Martha's arms were wrapped tightly around another orphan and her fiercely maternal embrace was returned in kind.

The two of them remained inseparable until Mercy's graduation from high school last spring. Even now, Martha managed to see Mercy at least once a week, that frequency courtesy of Mercy's choice to attend MetU. Mercy claimed it was due to the curriculum but Lex knew better.

Not that he was complaining. Martha's visits included a stop at either LuthorCorp or the penthouse and she always brought food, laughter and the right amount of maternal concern. Those visits were one of the highlights of his week.

MetU was to his left and one of those precious points of light marked Mercy's dorm.

Taking a sip from his drink, Lex turned slowly to the west. Metropolis General gleamed in the distance, the heli-pad fully illuminated as a Life-flight touched down. White flashes marked the movement of doctors and nurses as they raced to save another life. Such a familiar sight, one he knew far too well, one he'd witnessed in person too many times.

He bowed his head, the memory so strong he couldn't watch any more. For the final victim, the one cut to the bone, had been Aaron Caldwell.

And for once, the collateral damage had nothing to do with Lionel Luthor. No, that tragedy landed squarely in Lex's lap. His purchase of Aaron's contract a few days after Clark left turned out to be a bad decision. The idea itself had been sound, the problem lay in its execution. Freeing Aaron from Henri, while done out of gratitude, did nothing to remove him from the lifestyle.

Instead, it only served to lower the quality of his clientele.

Had he followed through and offered Aaron a job or the free ride scholarship to MetU immediately after concluding his business with Henri, then it never would have happened. If Lex had been paying attention, Aaron wouldn't have ended up in the ICU at Metropolis General, nearly beaten to death. Granted, Clark had only been gone a week and he was still reeling from the shock, but that was no excuse for his inattention.

He never slipped like that again.

While Aaron slowly recovered, Lex made certain the man responsible was located and when the D.A. balked because a lack of evidence, that evidence was found. There were certain advantages to owning a DNA testing lab as well as a phalanx of lawyers. Not only was the bastard serving the maximum term allowed for assault and battery, he was financially ruined.

The civil suit filed on Aaron's behalf brought one of the largest judgments in recorded history.

Lex visited Aaron during his hospital stay, but with the restructure of LuthorCorp and the other pressures going on, those visits weren't as often as he liked. Nor were his visits to the Kent Farm, although Lex made a point of being there as close to a weekly basis as he could. It was during one of those weekly visits that he mentioned Aaron's situation to Jonathan and the next time Lex found time to drop in on Aaron, his usual chair was occupied.

Jonathan Kent and Aaron Caldwell bonded as quickly and as deeply as Martha had with Mercy. Lex understood entirely, the Kents were natural parents and lost children simply gravitated toward them. It came as no surprise that his job offer upon Aaron's release was turned down in favor of a place at the Kent Farm.

According to Jonathan, Aaron proved to be a hard worker and a real asset.

He also ended up saving Jonathan's life.

Jonathan's heart attack almost killed him and if Aaron hadn't been working beside him on that cold spring morning, he would have died. There had been no warning, one moment Jonathan was fine and the next he was on the ground. Only Aaron's quick thinking and administration of CPR kept him in the land of the living.

Lex had been in Tokyo when the call came and during the flight back the only thought that rattled around in his head was how he couldn't bear to lose Jonathan. He was the rock that kept their odd family together and without his strength, they would surely fall apart. That thought remained with him through the whole ordeal. Martha was strong but watching her husband in that hospital bed stripped her of that strength.

The Kent children hovered in the background, silent and watchful, all of them frightened by the prospect of losing their father. After the first night, Mercy and Aaron were sent home with a promise that they'd be called if anything changed. In the days that followed, Lex remained at Martha's side and watched her age before his eyes. He thought for sure he was going to lose her too, her last breath drawn minutes after her husband's ceased.

Lex prayed harder then than he'd every prayed in his life.

He couldn't bear to lose either of them.

While they waited for Jonathan to respond to the medication, Martha sat beside the bed with Jonathan's hand in hers. Tears coursed down her face, following the lines that time and care had worn into her skin. As Lex cleared his throat to suggest she get some sleep, Martha started talking. During the next few hours, she told Lex the story of their lives. She told him about their finding Clark and what a godsend he'd been. All the little things Clark had done and all the joy he'd brought with him.

She even told him the story of how she and Jonathan met. Even then, Martha Clark had known exactly who and what she wanted. And that person was Jonathan Kent. Tears welled up, ones Lex blinked back while he listened to the tremble in her beautiful voice as she said over and over, "God, I hope he marries me."

When Jonathan opened his eyes at that moment, Lex knew he'd witnessed a miracle.

Every day when he called the farm and heard Jonathan's booming voice, that miracle was renewed.

The chill air frosted his breath; the vapor mixing with snow now drifting down from the overcast sky. His collar was damp, his body chilled to the bone even though the lights beckoned him to stay out longer. To watch for a few more minutes. To understand the sway Metropolis had over his very existence.

But it was late and he was cold. The city could sing to him another night. Giving way to the inevitable, Lex finished his drink and walked back inside. He closed the balcony doors, leaving them unlocked. It was more expedient that way. If an emergency arose, the precious second it would take to unlock the door might cost someone their life.

Every life out there was important.

Every single one...

He debated pouring another drink and then decided against it.

There were better things he could be doing.

His schedule for the next few days was set. He'd taken care of that long before his impromptu perusal of the Metropolis skyline. While the majority of his time was occupied with a new merger, he'd set aside an entire afternoon to visit with Pete and Lana Ross.

Lunch would only take an hour and the business he had to conduct with Pete should take even less. It was simple proposition, one he hoped Pete would accept. He needed Pete to accept because in the long run, Lex couldn't think of a better running mate when he made his bid for Governor next spring.

All that remained was to convince Pete of the same.

Once he had that nailed down, then he could spend some quality time with his godson. Lex freely admitted he was prejudiced on the subject but Clark Ross had inherited more than his mother's exotic beauty. The kid was smart as a whip. At three years old he was already reading and able to do simple equations. By the time he enrolled in kindergarten, it was Lex's intention that Clark would be able to write just as well as he could read.

They still had two years to reach that goal and he was determined that it would be reached.

Setting his glass down on the edge of his desk, Lex trailed his fingers across its surface. The original replaced long ago, it gleamed in the dim light, The Daily Planet's globe reflected for a moment before Lex shut the blinds and blocked it out along with the rest of the outside world.

The click of his shoes on the hardwood floor echoed throughout the empty study. That sound became muffled as he exchanged the study for the hallway which led to the bedroom suites, its thick carpet swallowing every hint of movement. When he opened to door to his personal suite, the ensuing silence was complete with one exception.

The soft, slow breathing of his companion.

Fast asleep in their bed, one arm flung above his head and the other resting across his chest, his inhumanly beautiful face a symphony of planes and shadows, he was worth a moment of quiet worship. Lex stopped in the doorway, his own breath stilled at the sight. No matter how many times he saw him there, no matter how solid his presence was in Lex's life - like hearing Jonathan's voice every morning, Lex knew this was a miracle too.

Eight months after he'd disappeared, Clark fulfilled his promise.

He arrived with the rain one night and never left.

Four years and four months and still Lex could hardly believe he was here.

This was a dream, a lunatic's ravings and yet... it was real.

He woke every morning to the feel of Clark's body beside him, to his scent and the warmth of his skin. Many of those mornings, he woke to Clark's hands already busy, stroking gently and in that state between dreaming and waking, he'd spread his legs and Clark would settle in. Rubbing against him, heated kisses laid across his shoulders and down his back. Mind-numbingly slow penetration until they were flush, until there was no room between them for anything but air.

Those were the mornings he went to work with a smile on his face.

It had taken time and effort but he'd grown used to Clark's need to be the dominant partner. While Jor-El's cure for his son was far from complete, Lex found he could live with the quirks. He didn't mind being the one underneath, or on top if Clark was in a lazy mood and wanted to watch him move. Clark's ability to float in the middle of sex proved to be a challenge, one he'd taken in stride along with all of Clark's other abilities.

There were times when Clark would allow a reversal of their roles and those times were fraught with both danger and delight. They learned through careful exploration that Clark's submissive training didn't kick in if they remained face-to-face. As long as Clark kept his eyes open and fixed on him, Lex could do anything he wanted.

But if Clark closed his eyes, all bets were off. When Clark's head went back and his throat was exposed, it was all Lex could do to keep himself in check. One slip, one push the wrong way and everything Clark had fought for would be erased in the blink of an eye.

The same held true for certain positions. The third time he had to peel Clark off the ceiling, Lex had given up on taking Clark from behind. The association was too strong and he couldn't bear to hear Clark beg. Lex couldn't listen to that sound without remembering Boston and how helpless he felt, unable to stop what he was listening to and having to wait until the bitter end before he could switch off the sound and try to remember how to breathe.

Clark had endured enough at his expense.

As long as Lex lived, Clark would never suffer again.

Lately, Clark's favorite thing had been kissing.

Hours and hours of kissing, their mouths glued together while Lex taught Clark everything he knew and a few things he made up on the spur of the moment. Clark on top of him, Clark underneath him - fully clothed or nude, it didn't matter. Clark was addicted to the slide of skin-on-skin, the intimacy of shared breath, the soft caress that only kissing could provide. Endless foreplay, enjoyable in its own right but when they started to tip into actual play, Clark would pull back. He'd retreat into himself and Lex would have to start again.

Lex hoped this phase would pass soon. He wanted more than kisses but he knew better than to push.

Until Clark was ready to progress, then he'd simply have to content himself with taking matters into his own hands. Preferably in the shower after Clark left for work, although the private bathroom in his office and his office itself had been used on occasion. The Enzo had even been put to the test after one particularly frustrating session with Clark which ended abruptly when Clark's hero complex kicked in. They'd actually made it past kissing into active fondling, the windows steamed and the car's shocks protesting as Clark climbed on top of him and then it happened...

Clark's head tilted to one side, his eyes took on that unfocused look and before Lex could grab on, Clark was gone. Left with the aftermath, Lex closed the half-open passenger door, finished unfastening his pants and took care of the problem. Three minutes and a soaked handkerchief later, he was on his way back to the penthouse to await Clark's return.

Even so, it was worth it to have Clark.

Everything was worth it to have Clark in his life.

While he watched, Clark rolled onto his side, one hip cocked and the sheet sliding down to pool on his thigh. The entire length of his back was now exposed, his skin still glowing faintly even though the sun had been down for hours. Drawn to that glow, Lex abandoned his post in the doorway.

He undressed while he walked, each item folded neatly as it was removed until he set the entire stack on a chair beside the bed. In direct contrast, Clark's clothing was strewn all over the floor. Bundles of red and blue lay in a crumpled pile by the dresser, one boot halfway under the bed and the other cocked against the nightstand.

The only article that had been treated with respect was the one recognized by millions.

It was spread across the bed, covering his side in a wash of crimson. Lex touched it, rubbing the fine fabric between his fingers and marveling at its lightness. Its composition was a mystery and despite many requests to study it, Lex had yet to gain Clark's permission.

Suffice to say, it was stronger than steel. Nothing affected it - not fire, not knives, not bullets. When Clark wrapped him up in it on the night he returned, Lex discovered it was very warm. And remarkably stain-resistant.

"Hey," Soft and low, so soft Lex thought he'd imagined the voice until he looked up and discovered Clark watching him over one shoulder. A smile crept in, the corners of Clark's mouth curving, deep dimples appearing for a second before he asked, "Where have you been?"

"Working. I didn't mean to wake you." He was behind Clark, the tempting line of Clark's back begging for a touch but Lex refrained. Sidling away from the bed, Lex began his circuit to the other side and was stopped by a hand on his wrist.

"Hey, hey. It's okay, Lex. It's okay. C'mon..." Clark tugged and Lex obeyed. Carefully, he climbed into bed, settling down on his side behind Clark while Clark pulled the covers and his cape up over them. Unsure of where to put his hands, Lex raised them above his head, then finally slid one under Clark's pillow. The contented sigh from Clark eased his concerns, lulling him into a sense of complacency that lasted up to the very moment Clark shifted, moving until they were flush.

Chest to back, Clark's incredible ass nestled into the cradle of his hips and Lex bit his lower lip to stifle a groan. It had been weeks and even then, their positions had been reversed. He closed his eyes, willing himself to remain perfectly still. His heart raced, beating wildly out of control as Clark's hand covered his hip and pulled him in even tighter.

Oh, Christ.

Clark was rocking against him, a subtle dip forward and rise back and even trying to calculate the gross national debt wouldn't stop his body's reaction to that enticement. Burying his face in the pillow, Lex shifted to integral calculus, then recited the laws of thermodynamics under his breath, anything to keep from sinking into that motion.

He wanted Clark.

He wanted him so badly that he ached with the need but they couldn't, not in this position.

Another rock back, this one harder and Lex's breath caught in his throat. Clark shifted again, rolling until he was on his stomach with his legs spread. He looked over his shoulder, his eyes so dark and wide Lex felt himself falling into them. "Lex... please."

His control was crumbling, sloughing away under the pressure. Aching, Lex rested his head against Clark's shoulder. He'd heard that tone before, that soft wheedle and while Clark's eyes were still open, they were in grave danger here. "Don't beg, Clark."

"I'm not. I just... I know you want to be careful but we've been nothing but careful. You can't break me, Lex." Now Clark was up on his knees, presenting himself and the temptation was so strong, Lex clawed at the pillow to keep from taking it. He could see how hard Clark was but he knew the instant they started, Clark would go soft and then the trembling would begin.

"I can, Clark." Lex turned his face away, hiding from the sight but he couldn't hide from the voices in his head. He couldn't hide from his desires.

I want to.

I want to hear you beg,

I want you to say my name when we do this, not his.

"Lex, look at me." Softness gone, that was the voice Lex heard when Metropolis' hero was interviewed. Deep and strong and commanding, nothing like the boy he knew. This wasn't Clark, this was his alter ego and there was no denying that command.

Raising his head, Lex did as ordered. But instead of Superman, he found himself looking at Clark. His Clark. Mussed hair and dark eyes and a mouth that begged to be kissed. They could go back to kissing. He enjoyed kissing. They didn't need to do this...

But they did and apparently, that was the point.

Clark made that perfectly clear as he turned to face Lex and sat back on his heels. His huge hands framed Lex's face, holding him there while he said, "You don't need to treat me like I'm made out of glass, Lex. I'm not fragile. Not any more."

"Clark..."

"No. Shut up for a minute and listen to me. I am healed. It's been years and you don't need to be careful. Your heart's racing, Lex. It's going so fast because you're scared and you don't have to be." The bed dipped as Clark shuffled closer, the sheets bunching up between his knees.

His hands glided downward, on coming to rest over Lex's heart, which was trying to beat its way out of his chest. "I thought if we took a few steps back and started over it would help but it's not. Lex, I'm tired of kissing and I'm tired of being careful and all I want..."

The other hand was now on the nape of his neck, hot and heavy and Lex shuddered as it tightened. Blood drained from his face, he could feel it leaving and pooling down low, his cock throbbing in time with his rapid heartbeat. Harder than he'd ever been, mesmerized by Clark's eyes and then his mouth as Clark said what Lex never thought he'd hear. "All I want is for you to hold me down and fuck me."

The past few weeks of denial had taken their toll and as those words left Clark's mouth, a white-hot rush of sensation followed them. Arcing up into the hard kiss Clark bestowed as a final command, Lex moaned and jerked and then thoroughly embarrassed himself. Pleasure overwhelmed shame and when his mouth was finally his own again, Lex panted for breath, trying to understand what the hell had just happened.

Clark was grinning and looking down. Dazed, Lex followed his line of sight. Thick, wet streaks decorated his stomach and thighs and he hadn't done that since he was a kid. At least not since he'd started having fully unclothed sex.

"It looks like we're going to have to wait a few minutes." Clark was... Clark was laughing. Under his breath, soft chuckles that Lex could barely hear but Clark was laughing.

Clark never laughed in bed...

Nor did he lean over and... "Ah, God. Fuck..."

"Like I said, in a few minutes." Lex wanted to wipe that smirk off Clark's face but he didn't get a chance. Not with the agenda Clark had set up without his knowledge.

Clark's mouth was softest thing in the world. Softer and better than anyone had ever been and Lex leaned back on his hands, presenting himself to whatever Clark wanted to do. Even though he was sensitive and sucking actually hurt, he didn't care. Long, soothing licks made up for the pain and within a few agonizing moments, he was ready for more.

Clark's cheeks hollowed as he sucked, his lips forming a perfect, plush haven. He was good at this, really good and as long as Lex didn't think about how Clark had gotten to be so good, he enjoyed it thoroughly. Especially when Clark reached down between his own legs and started to stroke. The rise and fall of his arm was all Lex could see but it was enough.

This wasn't something Clark was doing out of a sense of duty. He was enjoying it. He was getting off on it. There was nothing submissive about the looks Clark was giving him from under his lashes. The only thing Lex could see there was heat and want and God, he was going to come again.

So was Clark.

Clark's eyes closed, a soft moan setting up vibrations Lex felt all the way to the base of his spine and Clark's hips jerked forward. This had never happened before. Clark had never come while sucking on him. Not that he'd let Clark do it all that often but still...

Maybe Clark was right.

Maybe he was healed.

The folly of having his cock embedded in the mouth of the strongest person on Earth while that same person thrashed his way through an orgasm didn't occur to Lex until it was all over. Until Clark had swallowed his second offering and licked him completely clean. It really didn't hit until they were lying beside each other and Clark's head was nestled into the curve of his shoulder.

Even when it did register, Lex shrugged it off. Since Clark's return, there hadn't been a single session when Clark had left him bruised or cut. There had been times when he was sore but those were rare and only in the beginning when he'd been learning to adjust to being a bottom.

He wouldn't mind getting a bruise or two.

He also wouldn't mind taking Clark up on his suggestion.

Just as soon as he could rise to the occasion... which wouldn't be tonight.

"Rain check?" Clark murmured against his shoulder, sexual lassitude having replaced desire. Nodding, Lex reached down and brought Clark's hand up to his mouth. He licked, savoring the light citrus taste and stifled a laugh against Clark's palm. If they had managed to get to this point before the world went to hell, he would've known Clark wasn't human by taste alone.

"Rain check," Lex countered, laying Clark's hand on his chest. That pleasant weight along with the length of Clark's body in such close proximity ensured he would be able to sleep peacefully. Combined with their recent activity, Lex was certain he'd sleep until the alarm went off.

It would be good to sleep.

"Thank you, Clark."

"Mmmm, anytime. Love you." A warm kiss punctuated that last comment, pressed into the hollow of his throat. Clark relaxed, his breathing deepening, the steady thump of his heart slowing as he fell into the rhythms of sleep.

Awake for a few moments longer, Lex turned his head and brushed his lips over Clark's forehead. The tiny frown line there disappeared at that touch as Lex murmured, "I love you. Thank you for coming back to me."

There was no answer but there didn't need to be.

As long as Clark drew breath, Lex knew Clark would come back to him.

He'd kept his promise, in more ways than one.

For Clark was becoming a legend. And again, he was doing it in more ways than one.

Superman, Clark's alter ego, was the protector of Metropolis. He was the topic on everyone's mind when they woke in the morning and when they went to bed at night. As long as Superman patrolled the skies of Metropolis, her citizen's were safe.

Every single precious one of them.

To Lex's eternal surprise, the pile of blue and red currently decorating their bedroom floor had proven to be the perfect camouflage. While the garish boots and cape made Superman stand out in a crowd, everyone ended up watching the clothes and very few of them ever really noticed the man. As a result, it kept people from connecting Clark Kent, The Daily Planet's star reporter to their hero.

Even though Lex really hated the color scheme, he had to admit that it worked.

Because despite his extra-curricular activities and savior complex, Clark managed to maintain a relatively normal life. If one could consider sleeping with the city's richest man - a man his partner, Ms. Lane, would give her eyeteeth to interview - to be a normal life. Lex had his doubts on that score but Clark wouldn't agree to being kept and to be honest, Clark was such a good writer, Lex chose to respect his wishes.

Far be it for him to deny the fourth estate a journalist of Clark's caliber and integrity. Clark's partner stopped at nothing to get a story while Clark had the ability to make a story out of nothing. That talent was the making of Clark's personal legend. He had two Pulitzers under his belt and there was talk of a book deal in the offing.

Of the two legends being built, Lex preferred the one that was Clark Kent.

Superman belonged to everyone.

Pulling Clark closer, Lex kissed him again and finally closed his eyes. Sleep was only moments away. Blissful, peaceful sleep and when the next day dawned, he'd wake right here. Curled up around Clark, the two of them locked away in their own world until duty called again.

Let Metropolis have her hero.

Lex had his own legend.

*~*~*~*~