Fair warning.
This was conceived and written at 2am so if it doesn't make any sense, that would be why.
Un-beta'd
In the wake of the impossible large chaotic battle, the resulting silence was like a piercing scream. The remains of circuit boards and computer chips lay scattered across the field. In the middle of nowhere, far away from any kind of civilization, two groups, one slightly larger than the other, stood among the ice and snow. Some were broken, some bleeding, but all were waiting on edge. It wasn't difficult to determine a victor but there were no celebrations, no cheers. They all remained on guard as they watched each other…
…and the man laying prone in the snow.
In past encounters, this would be the point where the man would be taken in to custody to begin another round of "you caught me red-handed, but you still can't prove it", but somehow today was different.
Today, Hope and Mercy maintained their aggressive stances but also their distance. Uneasily, the Justice League prepared to defend against any attack but at a quiet word from their primary colored leader, they merely watched.
Hesitantly, both groups registered movement by Superman as he stepped forward from the lines, walking towards the man still bleeding from his many wounds. Upon reaching his side, Superman dropped to his knees but made no move to touch him. Instead he waited patiently until silver blue eyes trained their pained gaze on him—or rather his chest.
"Is it over yet? Is it done?" Superman asked in a soft but clear voice that carried.
"Are you finished?"
A tortured laugh escaped Lex's blood stained lips. "My my my. Such manners." He coughed wetly. "Martha would be proud."
Superman said nothing. He merely waited. For a few seconds, all Lex could do was groan.
"Come now, Superman. Surely you remember how the game is played." Lex gestured towards some nearby remains of his latest creations. "I mastermind some dastardly plan, you and your carebear friends get together and tap into that enormously deep vat of good luck you have and foil it, I slip custody and the cycle begins anew. It's what has always happened. It'll happen again and again until it won't, because at the end of the day all you have is luck, and I have millions of ideas and all the time in the world."
He closed his eyes as he felt bone knitting back together. The inevitable scolding should start any minute now. It always did and fairly quickly.
Which is why after a few minutes of continued silence, he was almost shocked to hear Superman's voice again.
"You didn't answer my question. Are…You…Done?" Lex could almost see the capital letters of each word.
That wasn't right. Superman was abandoning his usual script. Right now, he should be trussed up like a turkey on Thanksgiving, in 'custody' with just enough painkiller to get him through the worst of his healing so they could pat themselves on the back and feel superior. Even Queen didn't begrudge him that even as he made sure to give Lex as minimal a dose as possible. Lex should already be making his lawyers earn their ridiculous, exorbitant, but ultimately worth it, retainers.
"Lex?" Lex's eyes flew open at that. He was always Luthor when they met, either as Superman or Daily Planet reporter, Clark Kent. For the first time in more years than he cared to think about, he looked at the face of the man wearing the red cape and horribly garish outfit and didn't see Superman in all of his pompous, self-righteous glory. He caught his breath.
The face may have matured, but the eyes that stared deep into his soul were the eyes of a fifteen-year-old boy, relieved at the sight of a living, breathing Lex. It was the eyes of a boy equally fascinated and completely unfazed by the millionaire playboy he called friend. They were the eyes of the young man who laughed with him one minute and shift in a ridiculous but forgivable lie in the next.
They were the eyes of the boy he knew before Belle Reve, before the betrayals, before he took to heart everything Jonathan Kent ever said against the Luthor family. Back when he still believed in Lex.
They were the eyes of the man Lex never fell out of love with.
There was not a trace of Superman in those eyes. They held no condemnation, no anger, but most importantly, no disappointment.
Right then, in the aftermath of the battle in which they had been on opposing sides, in the middle of the ass end of the arctic, between his deadly bodyguards and the members of the saint brigade, all of whom came 'after', Lex saw the answer to the question he had never dared ask aloud.
The love he saw in those beautiful eyes made the walls around his heart start crumbling and allowed him to push back the grievances and feelings of betrayal and hurt that had started and extended this battle long past its natural conclusion. Yet he hesitated.
Could they get past it?
Would they be allowed to?
Both of them had alliances with others who would not let them be happy without a fight. Who wouldn't understand the history, and couldn't see the future for the past.
During this period of revelation, his face had remained impassive. He was busy examining the situation and didn't realize the full significance of his silence. Then, he saw uncertainty start to creep into Clark's eyes. At that moment, his decision was made without a second thought.
Fuck them all.
He finally had Clark and he would burn the world to ash before he let them take him away again.
The last bit of caution melted from his heart and Lex gave a smile and let the love he kept buried for over a decade fill his eyes as he reached for Clark's hand and watched him light up.
"Yeah." He breathed heavily with no small degree of finality.
"I'm done."