Clark was glad that the spring weather had finally rolled around. He often went home on foot after school, and while he could have been there within seconds, he takes his time to stroll along the sidewalk, enjoying the pleasant spring breeze that plays through his hair. He breathes deeply, a soft smile claiming his lips.

His inhuman senses allow him to smell every blossom in the trees, every flower that had bloomed that morning. The rain still lingered in the air from a day or so ago, making the oxygen feel new and fresh. He grins boyishly. Times like this were when he appreciated his gifts. The birds tweeting in the trees, insects coming to life after a long hibernation. Only he could experience this way.

It's no trouble for him to sense the car pulling up beside him, and even though the brakes made no audible sound, Clark's attuned hearing tells him that the driver would be bringing the machine to a stop next to him. He comes to a stop and turns to see a sleek black vehicle creeping up to him, the windows heavily tinted and reflecting the sunlight.

Lex.

He shifts uneasily. Sightings of the expensive cars that Lex was chauffeured in had long ago dropped out of gossip circulation, but it never failed to throw Clark off. The well-manicured, unmarked metal of the luxury vehicle contrasts heavily against the workhorse that was his father's truck, beaten and overworked.

He watches as the vehicle comes to a stop before him, and the back door opens.

It's not Lex who emerges. It's one of his bodyguards, sporting hundreds of pounds of disciplined muscle. He removes his sunglasses, but Clark doesn't see much light reach his eyes.

"Mr. Kent, Mr. Luthor has requested your presence at the mansion."

Clark glances into the empty backseat, and then back to the man-gorilla. "Why didn't he come himself?"

The bodyguard doesn't even blink. "He's currently occupied. He sent us to fetch you."

Clark doesn't move. "Why didn't he call? I could have come myself."

"He tried, Mr. Kent. He received no response."

Clark goes to grab his cell phone. It takes a pat-down of his pockets to realize that he had left it at home this morning. "Oh."

The bodyguard steps back, holding his arm out to beckon the Kent into the car. "After you, Mr. Kent."

Clark hesitates. It wasn't unusual for Lex to invite him over. That had grown close since the accident, and he often went over to drop off produce. He had never sent a car without warning before, though.

He glances at the large back seat once more before meeting the bodyguard's eyes. "What if I had plans?"

The man doesn't miss a beat. "I would consider rescheduling."

Clark sighs through his nose. "Fine." He lets his bag fall from his shoulders and swings it around in front of him, placing it in the bodyguard's outstretched hand. "Thank you," he says quietly, watching as the bag is placed in the trunk.

The man glances back at him, a hint of surprise lighting up his irises. "You're…you're welcome, Mr. Kent."

Clark gets into the car and allows the door to be closed behind him. The bodyguard gets into the passenger side seat, and with a deafening click, the locks on the doors engage.

Clark looks out the window. The town's colors are now muted by the tint on the window. He sighs. Maybe this wouldn't take too long.

Lex watches as Clark enters the room, his boyish gaze sweeping around to absorb his surroundings. There's the telltale wash of appreciativeness that sweeps across the face of everyone who lays eyes on his wealth, and Lex almost feels disappointed. That is, until the boy speaks.

"You've got more books than I had imagined," says the farm boy, his eyes roaming the expansive bookshelf consuming most of the south wall. He hadn't been in Lex's personal office yet. It suited him. "And it's very clean. Dusting must take up a lot of your time."

Lex lifts an eyebrow. "I have maids, Clark."

"Oh. Right."

The teen shifts his weight awkwardly, and Lex notices that he's scanning every inch of the room that Lex isn't occupying. Whether it's from unease or respect, the boy's eyes refuse to meet the Luthor's, purposefully darting around his form as if direct contact would burn him.

"Clark, I understand that my calling you here out of the blue might have you on guard, but I need you to understand that I only wanted to speak with you."

Even from across the room, Lex can see how hard the Kent swallows, his eyes still refusing to settle on Lex's form.

"No offense, Lex, but I think that technically you had me kidnapped…"

He trails off as Lex moves around his desk and approaches the young man, regarding the Kent's demeanor with an inquisitive eye. Although the boy seems to be unsure of the situation, his body language itself is remarkably relaxed. Lex was used to people being wary around him, yet the boy before him seems to be under the impression that he wouldn't…or couldn't…hurt him.

Lex alters his route slightly, making his way over to his scotch whilst keeping the Kent in the corner of his eye. Those blue eyes track his movements in a way that Lex was quite unfamiliar with. Not watching for a weakness, not searching for a way past his defenses, not looking for a way in. Just…seeing. Simply observing.

"I assure you that you're free to leave anytime you like." Flashes of Clark pulling him from his Porsche and hauling him out of the water resurface from the depth of his mind, reminding him that Clark was more than capable of showing himself out even without his assurance.

He turns towards the boy again, intrigued by the cautiously curious glint in his eyes. "But I was hoping we could have a chat."

The Kent boy is not subservient to his inner emotions. "I really shouldn't be here. My dad would kill me."

Lex allows a cat-like smile to curl his lips. "If a Porsche going sixty miles per hour doesn't leave so much as a scratch on you, I doubt that a forty-year-old man is going to do much damage."

Lex feels something exciting curl in his stomach as the Kent tenses, his eyes almost changing color as defiance sets them to stone. He had been in Smallville for so long that he had almost forgotten what it felt like to have a battle of the wits, to play the sort of game where you knew your opponent's hand already, and all you needed to do was get them to show it to you.

"Lex, I know what you think you saw," says the boy, and Lex can almost see the script he had written for himself scrolling through his mind, his mouth moving as if it had a mind of its own, "but you never hit me with your car. You went over the bridge, and I jumped in after you. Maybe the oxygen deprivation gave you hallucinations or something."

Lex taps his finger against the side of his glass and responds coyly, "But Clark, I remember when I regained consciousness on the riverbank. When I said that I thought that I hit you, you looked me directly in the eyes and said, 'You did'. That wasn't a hallucination, was it?"
"You must have misheard me, Lex," retaliates the brunette. "You were in shock. There was water in your lungs and ears."

Lex presses his glass to his lips, holding the Kent's gaze over the ember liquid. Clark is doing impressively well, but if what Lex suspects is true, then he had probably been playing this game for longer than Lex could imagine.

Lex flicks his wrist as if to shoo the conversation away. "Well, that wasn't what I wanted to talk about anyway. Have a seat, Clark." When the brunette hesitates in the doorway, Lex feels compelled to add, "Please?" The word is strange to his tongue, rusty and rarely used.
Clark sighs through his nose. Lex finds himself even further charmed by the Kent's open emotions. During most of his lifetime the people around him had always been reserved and careful with every syllable they uttered, often posing as polite and courteous even if they despised having to share the same air as him. The way Clark openly displays his exasperation is almost endearing, so when the young man makes his way further into the room and flops into one of the chairs, he feels an alien sense of giddiness rise in his chest.

"My parents expect me home soon," the boy warns as Lex makes his way to the other chair, taking his seat with a bit more grace than the farm boy had.

"You can go anytime you like," Lex reiterates.

Clark shifts in his seat and says nothing.

"Can I get you anything to drink?"

"I'm eighteen, Lex."

"I have liquids other than liquor in this house," Lex replies.

Clark shifts some more. "No, thanks. I won't be staying long." For the first time since they had met on the riverbank, Clark meets his eyes, the blue orbs burning into Lex's subconscious. "What did you want to talk about?" His tone is polite enough, but at the same time it's demanding, no-nonsense, much like Johnathan.

Something Lex was unused to hearing.
Lex swirls the drink in his hand, hoping he didn't look as unsure as he felt. All of the carefully measured words and eloquent speeches he had rehearsed in his mind seemed to have been melted away by the boy's burning gaze.

He clears his throat. "Well, Clark." He hesitates. Why was he hesitating? "I think we should spend more time together. Just the two of us."

Clark's brows furrow in confusion.

Oops.

"That is, I'd like to get to know you better."

More confusion.

"What I mean is-"

"Lex," Clark interrupts quietly. "Are you…asking me out?"

Lex feels unease squirm in his stomach. He was very unused to this situation. Rarely did he ever have to make the first move, and when he did, his target usually immediately threw themselves at him at the very first hint of interest. Yet the Kent in front of his is staring back at him with an expression that Lex can't quite place. It certainly wasn't what he had been expecting, whatever it was.

"Yes, Clark. That's what I'm doing. I'm asking you to go out with me."

He can feel his heart beating in his chest, and with every second that passes he can feel more heat building in his face, and god damn it why is Clark not answering yet?

Clark's next answer is simple. "Are you gay?"

Lex lets his eyes wander to the window, hoping the fresh spring scene would settle his fluttering emotions. "Not exactly. I try not to label it. It's just when I see someone…" his eyes move back to Clark. "When I see someone that I like, that's all that matters."

Clark looks thoughtful.

Lex resists the urge to shift in his chair. After a couple more moments of silence, he breaks the silence himself. "I know it's a lot to be blind-sided with. You're free to take your time-"

"Okay."

Lex blinks. "What?"

Clark nods, still looking thoughtful. There's a rosy tint rising to his cheeks, and Lex can't help but be pleased that he's not the only one overwhelmed. "There's no point in making you wait for an answer. It wouldn't be fair." He nods righteously. "My answer is yes. I'll go out with you."

They stare at each other for a moment.

Lex says quietly, his fingers gripping the fine leather of his chair, "Are you sure? There's no rush."

Clark nods some more.

More silence. "Okay then." Lex stands, and Clark pops to his feet as well.

They're still for a moment, each looking at the other uneasily. Lex clears his throat, suddenly feeling much younger. "Your parents are probably wondering where you are."

Clark nods a little too quickly. "You're right." He yanks his backpack up off the floor, his movements nervous and unmeasured.

"I'll drive you home."

"No!" They both startle at Clark's outburst. He swallows. "I mean…no, thanks. I wouldn't be able to act normally around my dad."

Lex nods. "I understand."

"Alright then."

They stand in uncomfortable silence for a moment longer before Clark clears his throat.

"Uh, I'm gonna get going, then. I've got chores..."

Lex nods. "Of course. I'll show you out."

Before Clark can protest the Luthor is striding towards the door, a satisfied tilt to his lips.

Clark feels his own mouth twitch as he follows the Luthor out of the room, overly conscious of the lack of distance between them. Lex glances back at him and there's an electric feeling when their eyes meet. Clark can't help but smile and glance away, suddenly interested in the artwork adorning the walls.

Lex slows his pace to walk next to Clark, his own eyes scanning the paintings and weapons he had collected. "We can keep this quiet, if that's what you prefer."

Clark feels heat tinge his cheeks. "That would probably be best…for now." He offers up a wobbly, apologetic smile. "It's just-"

Lex shakes his head, a kind smile claiming his lips. "You don't have to explain anything, Clark. I understand."

They reach the front door and Lex waves away the doorman, deigning to swing the heavy door open himself. He allows Clark to pass through, and when the boy turns to him, his smile seems to swell.

"Enjoy the rest of your evening, Clark."

Clark nods simply. "You, too, Lex." He doesn't know what else to say.

Lex saves him from any more embarrassment by throwing one final wave, closing the door.

Clark turns and walks down the steps of the mansion, his mind moving faster than his feet had ever carried him. He gives the guard at the gate his regards, but there's only one thing on his mind.

I'm dating Lex Luthor.

His mouth twitches giddily. He can barely contain himself until he turns the corner and breaks the line of sight with the mansion, and as soon as he's out of view he breaks into a full sprint, a blinding grin on his face.