Chapter 16 - Win

It was asinine that the breakup with Victoria actually hurt.

Lex knew it had always been temporary. He didn't even like her, not really. But he'd never really thought about how desperately lonely the mansion was without her. Their final conversation should have simply been the victory lap, the end of the chess match. He should have been elated. But after she'd slapped him and walked away, he found he couldn't really enjoy his win. His pride was sore, his face stung, and his insides just felt empty and hollow.

It was more fun to take out people who really deserved it. Victoria had asked for it, but that wasn't quite the same thing.

Lex sent Clark a text saying he was too tired to run experiments that afternoon, and retreated instead into his study. He couldn't really get drunk—too many people were counting on him to be sharp and alert, and giving himself a hangover didn't do anyone any favors in that department—but he gave himself a couple of hours alone in the study, and decided to allow himself a couple more drinks than he usually had.

He was only halfway through the first drink when there was a knock on the study door. "Hello?"

That was Clark's voice. Lex put down the glass. Clark didn't mind if Lex drank when they visited—Lex did ask once—but he was going to be drinking a bit more than he usually would around a teenager. Lex sighed and went over to the door, breathing in to say he wanted to be alone, but stopped short when he saw what Clark was carrying.

It was a cake. Maybe eight inches across, circular, with white frosting.

"Don't worry," Clark said. "I'm not going to sing."

Lex fumbled for words, which wasn't common for him. He settled on, "What's this?"

"Well, I know your birthday isn't until tomorrow, but I—I just thought, since I was supposed to see you today anyway, but you didn't want to run experiments, I figured maybe we could celebrate? Sorry the cake doesn't have your name on it, I didn't want to let the bakery people know who it was for."

Lex had been only vaguely aware that tomorrow was his birthday. He hadn't really celebrated it since that one terrible party no one showed up to—most years, he just tried to forget about it. "Clark, how on earth did you find out that tomorrow is my birthday?"

"Believe me, it wasn't easy. I had to look through—"

"You know what, it's okay. I don't want to know."

Clark shrugged.

Lex took the cake, bringing it over to the coffee table by the fireplace. But then he wasn't sure what to do. It had been too long since he'd celebrated his birthday, too long since someone had brought him a casual gift without wanting something in return.

Clark shifted his weight. "So, are you going out with Victoria tomorrow?"

"Ah. No." Lex rubbed the back of his neck. "We broke things off."

"Oh, that's good."

Lex raised his eyebrows.

"I mean. Sorry. But . . . you didn't love her, and . . . you deserve better than that."

"I appreciate your vote of confidence, Clark, but I haven't had the best of luck with women."

"Have you ever loved anyone?"

"I've only ever loved two women. One died, and the other betrayed me." That wasn't quite true, but he wasn't at liberty to talk about Club Zero or Amanda Rothman.

Clark winced. "Your mom, and . . ."

"My nanny."

"She betrayed you?"

"As soon as my mother died, she ran off with enough LuthorCorp stock to keep her comfortable for the rest of her life."

Clark blinked a couple of times. "Lex, that's awful."

"Well, between my father's cruelty, my little brother's death, and then my mother's, maybe she knew when to call it quits."

"No. She left when you needed her the most."

"Story of my life. You can start to imagine why I sometimes think even our friendship is too good to be true."

Clark flinched. "Don't say that."

Lex could have kicked himself. Clark had come over with a cake to celebrate Lex's birthday, and Lex was complaining about his family. "I'm sorry, Clark, I'm being rude. Forgive me?"

Clark's eyes still looked concerned, but he nodded. "Of course. Um . . . are you still okay to celebrate?"

"I'm game if you are."

Clark grinned, that grin that Lex couldn't help but return.

Lex sat on the couch, expecting Clark to sit across from him like he usually did, but Clark came and sat beside him on the same couch. He set his backpack down on the floor and rummaged around in it before pulling out a small, long box wrapped sloppily in bright green paper. "I had to wrap it in secret. Otherwise it would look better."

Lex took the box very gently, as though it would disappear any moment. He couldn't help but worry that any sudden moves would wake him up from this impossible dream. He broke through the tape rather than ripping the wrapping paper, and opened the dark blue box inside.

It took him a second to figure out what it was. It was a shiny silver fountain pen, very high quality from the look of it, but with a bit of a curve to the end. "It's beautiful. But, uh, it's an unusual design."

"It's left handed," Clark said.

Lex blinked. "Left handed?"

"Yeah, I think it's supposed to help keep you from smearing the ink? Or getting hand cramps? I don't know, you'll have to try it out."

"Wow." Lex closed the box and looked over at Clark, wondering if Clark would be okay with a hug, but unsure how to ask. "Thank you, Clark."

Clark grinned. "Oh! And . . . " He reached back into the bag and took out a wrinkled envelope. "Forgot to give you the card."

Lex took the envelope. He thought about going over to his desk for a letter opener, but the seal was easy to tear with his fingers. The front of the card just said Happy birthday, with colored stripes. The inside was blank, save Clark's writing:

Lex,

Thanks for being a great "boss" (haha) and a better best friend. Hope you have a great birthday!

Clark Kent

Lex clamped down on his emotions, using all of the skills he'd ever learned from his father to keep himself from tearing up. Best friend. Clark had called him his best friend. Given that, along with the cake and the gift, Lex figured he could chance a hug. Actually, Clark might think it was rude if he didn't.

For all Clark had learned about controlling his strength, he still hugged too tight. Lex wouldn't have had it any other way.

Over the following three hours, they played on the x-box, talked and joked and laughed, and finished off almost the entire cake. Lex wasn't worried about Clark being unable to eat when he got home—eating unlimited amounts of food without discomfort seemed to be one of his powers—but Lex was definitely going to have to give his own kitchen staff the night off.

It was the best birthday he'd ever had. And it wasn't even his birthday.

When Clark left for the evening, Lex walked him to the door and returned to his empty study. It was quiet, but the loneliness didn't really bother him. His eyes fell on his half-finished drink, and he realized he hadn't thought of Victoria at all for the past three hours, and thinking about her now barely hurt. He picked up the glass, but drowning himself in alcohol just didn't have the same appeal as it had had. He wasn't alone. He had a best friend.

A little voice in his head reminded him that it wouldn't, couldn't, last—that Lex would ruin this, like he'd ruined every other relationship in his life. He downed the last of the drink and pushed the thought aside before putting away the glass.