Decision
"Destiny," Clark growled, just inches from Lex's face, "is an excuse used by the weak."
Years or even months ago, Lex might have trembled at such intensity from Clark; now he just sneered in reply. "You're one to talk of destiny and strength."
"Don't play that game with me," Clark spat. "You never could decide which way you wanted it, whose man you were."
He bristled. "My own."
"Then prove it."
Lex supposed Clark meant to make him change, to choose at last between good and evil.
Instead he chose to kiss him. And for once, Clark seemed to approve.