A/N:
Note to readers: This is my first attempt at a genuine slash story, as opposed to tiny elements in drama or action stories. The first chapter is tame, though, sorry.

If you think that there's anything about loving that calls for hating, then walk on by, 'cause there's male/male lovin' and inter-racial lovin'.

If this were a movie, would they call it CinePlex?


********************

Pete woke up from *that* dream again. He was in the Luthor castle and Lex Luthor was standing there, his body still as a statue but his eyes more alive than any other living human being's should be. He was standing in a doorway, half-turned, and looking directly at Pete. Those damn eyes were challenging and taunting, as if Lex were laughing at him inside. And Pete couldn't speak, couldn't move, could just look at those eyes, those *Luthor* eyes.

Finally, but this had never happened before in any other times he'd had the dream, Lex spoke to him. "It's not just Luthors who take what they want. You should, too," he said, quietly, and disappeared through the doorway.

Pete looked at the time and decided that even though it was 4:00, he'd never get back to sleep, so he might as well get up. *Hey, it's okay to dream about people you hate. God knows Lex Luthor has a lot of hate coming to him. You'd think the Luthors have something against me, personally. Shit, his father takes the factory away, buys it for stock in some little subsidiary that turns out to be worthless, then he comes in, all fancy-ass and superior, swaggering around, and takes Clark away. I don't give a damn that Clark says that he's tried to be good to the town, that he's been nice to him and Lana and Chloe, he's still a rotten, smirking bastard. I wish he'd never come here.*

The rest of the day wasn't much better. He couldn't concentrate during classes and his mind was completely blurred during the big history test. What was worse was once he'd gotten out of the classroom, he *knew* the right answers to all the questions. Well, most of them, anyway. *Who cares about Roman history, anyway?*

After school, he and Chloe met at the Talon as usual. As usual, Clark came by for just a few minutes, and then went off "for deliveries." Chloe and Pete exchanged glances. This time, Pete had had enough and said, "Sorry, Chlo, we just can't compete with a billionaire. Hell, for his birthday, I used to give him toy trucks. Now he's got somebody who tries to give him a real one."

Chloe looked startled at the depth of anger and bitterness, but recovered her usual aplomb. "But Pete, remember. He got to *keep* the trucks you gave him. And wanna know something? Something really incriminating and secret about Clark Kent, his deepest mystery? He's kept every gift either one of us ever gave him. They're all in a box in the Fortress."

"That's real sweet, Chloe. Shame he doesn't want to keep us."