Lex Luthor, Ace Reporter 2
Feb. 8th, 2006 07:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serafina20Yes, this is the WIP I aws working on last night. Now, technically, I wrote this awhile ago, but it was never posted and I fixed it so I like it more. Hope to write more soon.
I'm tired.
Previous Parts
Time was a dangerous thing in Lex's hands. It became a weapon, a harmful tool, and one that he most often wielded against himself. When he'd been younger, it'd been drugs and sex. Once he became a reporter, it'd been smoking too much and working too long even if there was nothing pressing to be done. Alcohol always figured into his life prominently, and boredom specifically.
And then, of course, there were suicidal thoughts that always followed when he didn't have enough to keep his mind occupied. Because, with boredom came depression and depression brought on introspection of all the failures in his life. Failures that were recited in his father's voice--Lionel's, not Morgan's--and were thus not just failures generated to the family but the world as well.
Because, yes, Lex firmly believed that his father thought Lex was responsible for everything wrong in the world.
Well. Lionel did. Sometimes, though, Lex got the uncomfortable feeling that Morgan believed just the opposite. Which almost seemed worse, because Clark already seemed to believe that the sun rose and set at Lex's command, and if Morgan felt the same way, well, that was just a lot of pressure to place on Lex's shoulders.
Lex hated having time off. He hated not being able to go into work. When he'd been working for his father, it'd never been like this. He'd been all right at his job, but not *good* at it, like he was at reporting. Not brilliant. Just average.
Which was probably why he'd lost the company.
But reporting.... It was his life. It was what he'd been born to do, obviously, otherwise he wouldn't be so observant. It'd been a skill he'd had all his life, but he'd never really seen a good use for it until he'd begun reporting.
And now, he was being asked to curb his ability to see.
Okay, to be fair, he'd brought it on himself. But only because Clark insisted.
That wasn't fair. Clark was only looking out for him. Just like he always did. And Lex couldn't resent him for that. They were getting married. It was only fair that Clark married someone who wasn't always cranky, tired, and depressed.
If only it was as easy as taking a pill or knowing that someone loved him. If only the past--both remembered and not--wasn't such a burden to Lex. But it wasn't easy. Lex had gaps in his memory and a father he'd never known. He had a history of abuse and a chemical imbalance and so much failure in his life. Clark deserved better, but he insisted that Lex was it, and Lex didn't have the strength to argue.
He loved Clark too much to argue. Even though, after two days of rest and one day on his own, time was already sharpening dangerously in his hands.
"What are you planning on doing today?" Clark asked as he dressed for work.
Lex was still in bed, sleepy and sated from that morning's impromptu lovemaking session. A part of Lex had to wonder if Clark had only made love to him so Lex didn't feel bad about being left behind. He'd only been complaining about having nothing to do since he'd woke up at four and been unable to get back to sleep. Clark had only been home from saving the world for three hours or so, and had not appreciated Lex whining in his ear about how life wasn't the same without the pulse of the newsroom, or the smell of ink, or Perry's constant bellowing. And how he missed the rush of almost missing a deadline, how his heart pounded and eyes strained, and he had to type so fast his fingers were almost a blur and he loved how his jaw ached because he always clenched a pen between his mouth, and...
Clark had finally rolled Lex onto his back and fucked him. Sometime later, after lots of teasing play as they built up sweat and pleasure, bringing it to its height Lex had returned the favor.
Now, watching as Clark prepared to go back to the world where the newsroom pulsed and the smell of ink filled the air, Lex couldn't help wonder, rather morosely, if it hadn't been a pity fuck.
Of course, considering how needy Clark had been, and how he'd whimpered and squirmed and grasped the headboard as Lex had driven into him....
It probably hadn't been pity sex. Probably.
"Nothing," Lex answered finally. "Sleep." He pulled a pillow to his chest.
Clark met his eyes in the mirror and kind of shook his head. "Isn't that what you did yesterday?"
"Yup. And I enjoyed it so much, I decided to do it again today."
"Maybe you should do something else today."
Lex yawned and rolled onto his stomach. He did not want to have this conversation. There was nothing to do outside of work worth doing. Except Clark.
"What should I do?"
Clark shrugged, tying his tie in a messy knot. "I don't know. Go to the park. Feed the ducks."
Lex rolled his eyes. "Ducks and I don't get along."
"So go to the park and throw rocks at the ducks. I don't care. Just do something."
He pulled a pillow over his head.
"Didn't Dr. Pascal tell you that you should try to find a yoga class?" Clark asked, taking the pillow from Lex.
"It's not urgent." He stretched, closing his eyes. "I can do that any time."
"Lex." Clark came back to bed and stretched on top of him. "Don't do this." He kissed the back of Lex's head.
"I'm tired," he whined.
"No, you're not." More kisses. "You're just being childish."
Lex hit him with a pillow. "I'm not being childish. I'm doing what I was ordered to do. Perry told me that I needed to take off time from work so I could relax." He pressed his shoulder against Clark, trying to get him to roll over.
Clark lifted his body and allowed Lex to turn.
"That's what I'm doing. I am taking time from work and to relax."
"Believe it or not, sleep and relax are not synonymous terms." Clark ran his fingers over Lex's lips. "The same way working and relaxing aren't synonymous. Everything you do, Lex, is full out. You can't do anything half-way, and I love that about you, but... But it scares me." He swallowed, eyes closing. "I'm afraid that if you don't find a way to balance yourself, that you're going to burn up. Burn out."
Ouch. He hadn't expected things to get serious. He was mostly teasing Clark.
He didn't want to hear Clark's fears about him. Clark was so strong. He was Lex's support, and he didn't let Lex see the fear. Not often.
Maybe not often enough.
"Well," Lex finally said, slipping his thumb into Clark's mouth. "I'll admit I'm obsessive." He made his voice as light and teasing as possible. "Once I find something--or someone," he added, allowing his voice to turn throaty, "then all I want to do is them."
Clark's eyes darkened and he leaned forward. "Lex," he whispered, sounding helpless. "I have to work."
Lex scooted closer to Clark and hooked one leg over his hip. "Stay," he purred, toying with the buttons on Clark's shirt. "Help me relax."
"You're the devil," Clark said. He kissed Lex gently and pulled away. "One of us has to go out and earn money. Otherwise our wedding rings will come out of Cracker Jack's boxes that we have to steal from a liquor store."
"Fine." Lex pushed Clark away and pouted. "Leave me. Everyone does." He threw an arm over his forehead and arched his back.
"You are such a drama queen."
Lex sniffed, pout deepening.
Clark laughed. "Stop it." He smacked Lex's arm lightly. "Please look for a yoga studio, Lex," he said. "Dr. Pascal's right; meditation is a good way to practice dismissing sensory input without shutting it all out. I mean, isn't part of the point of yoga becoming more open to the world around you?"
"Having never practiced it..."
"You wrote an article on the popularity, benefits, and myths of yoga four years ago. I can dig it up and send it to you if you've forgotten."
"I forgot that you're my own personal stalker as well as my lover," Lex said dryly.
Clark put his hand over his heart and said, "Reading your writing was the closest I ever got to heaven until I met you, Lex."
Lex snorted.
"I'll call you later, okay?" Clark came back to the bed and kissed Lex gently. "Do something fun today."
"Cross my heart," Lex said languidly. He lazily made the gesture over his chest, then circled his nipple slowly.
Clark's pupils dilated at the motion. Swallowing hard, he made like wanted to say something. Then, abruptly, he shook his head and left.
Lex laughed softly and rolled over. Even though he really wasn't planning on staying in bed all day, he closed his eyes and strained his ears, waiting until he was absolutely sure Clark was gone. It wasn't that he thought that Clark was spying on him through the walls or anything--Clark probably wouldn't use his powers like that unless he was certain Lex was completely unable to function--but sometimes, it was just nice to know that he was *alone*. Clark was the first person Lex had ever really lived with. He loved it, and he wouldn't ever want to live apart from Clark again, but... but sometimes, their apartment felt much to small. Clark was everywhere. Even when they were in different rooms, he was *there*. Sometimes, Lex felt claustrophobic and caged. Trapped.
Not that he'd ever admit it. He could never tell Clark that, sometimes, he longed to be alone, truly and completely. If he did, Clark might leave.
Once he was sure Clark was gone, Lex got out of bed. He took a long shower, using up all the hot water. The best thing about not having to go anywhere was the fact he got to lounge around for hours wearing sweatpants and one of Clark's shirts. He could smoke in the apartment, watch soap operas and trashy talk shows, and eat ice cream right from the carton.
Okay, so having time to himself wasn't the same as living with himself. But it was close.
Despite what he said to Clark, though, he wasn't planning on spending the whole day in bed. He had an appointment with Dr. Pascal today and couldn't afford to do that. She'd know. And she'd made him promise to look for a yoga class, unless he could think of a better way to deal with his ability to see way too much.
If he could, he wouldn't be like this, but Lex hadn't pointed that out to her. He'd just agreed to go along with her suggestion, and then proceeded to forget about it for three days.
It was crunch time. Time to buckle down and start looking. Of course, looking for a yoga studio wasn't what he wanted to be doing.
It wasn't that he didn't like Dr. Pascal or think she wasn't going to help him. He did like her. A lot. And he trusted her, too. If anything, it was nice having someone he didn't have a complex relationship with to talk with.
It was simply that, Lex now had time on his hand. Time, and a clue. And, okay, yes, Lex *knew* that Lois had dropped the clue in his lap, and he *knew* he shouldn't trust her, but....
Dr. Garner of Sommerholt Institute was a pioneer in brain research, and had done some interesting work with troubled teens. There was also some research on telepathy, but Lex felt almost guilty looking at that because he knew Clark's brother, Ryan, had been telepathic. It was due to a brain tumor, but Garner had a few files on Ryan.
Garner had also done work with people who'd had psychotic breaks, healing their minds and bringing them back to full mental capacity. In many cases, when they finished their treatment, they were working at a higher level of intelligence than they had been before.
And then, there was the memory recover research Garner was doing. It was very new research; he'd only been working on it for about six months. And he was looking for subjects to work on...
Lex knew that Lois had floated the information out deliberately. Never mind that he'd had to hack into her computer to find the information, it'd been too easy to get to and had practically had his name emblazoned across the file. The password had been his birthday, for God's sake. Not that Lois would ever admit she *remembered* when his birthday was. A lifetime full of belated or absence birthday gifts had never fooled Lex in the least.
But that wasn't the point. The point was Lois obviously intended for him to find the information, which meant that Lex needed to be careful what he did with it. He needed to think. He needed to weigh his options. He needed to talk to Clark.
Except, Clark would tell him to drop it. Lois wasn't to be trusted and neither was Garner. The two of them working together meant that, whatever they were doing, was illegal, dangerous, and highly unethical.
But, on the other hand, what if Garner's research was the key to unlocking Lex's past? There was so much he didn't know about himself. The cancer, Morgan. Even his mother was lost to the abyss that was his mind. Dr. Pascal was focused on getting him healthy in the here and now; she didn't seem to care about helping him recover what he'd lost. And maybe she was right, maybe he needed to deal with his life as it was now before he could deal with what it was then, but...
He felt so empty and lost. When you didn't have a past, how could you have a future? How could he and Clark have a future if Lex didn't know where he'd been?
So, in a way, it was like he was doing it for them.
If he did anything. Which he might not. It was just going to be a meeting. One, simple meeting with Dr. Garner to ask what he did at his institute, what his methods were, and what he hoped to gain. Reporter stuff. Except... more like freelance.
And, if he did it while he was out signing up for yoga class, that meant he was doing something good for himself.
At least, that's how he was going to justify it. Because, deep down, he knew that time had once again become a weapon that he was wielding. It just remained to be seen what kind of weapon and at whom.
I'm tired.
Previous Parts
Time was a dangerous thing in Lex's hands. It became a weapon, a harmful tool, and one that he most often wielded against himself. When he'd been younger, it'd been drugs and sex. Once he became a reporter, it'd been smoking too much and working too long even if there was nothing pressing to be done. Alcohol always figured into his life prominently, and boredom specifically.
And then, of course, there were suicidal thoughts that always followed when he didn't have enough to keep his mind occupied. Because, with boredom came depression and depression brought on introspection of all the failures in his life. Failures that were recited in his father's voice--Lionel's, not Morgan's--and were thus not just failures generated to the family but the world as well.
Because, yes, Lex firmly believed that his father thought Lex was responsible for everything wrong in the world.
Well. Lionel did. Sometimes, though, Lex got the uncomfortable feeling that Morgan believed just the opposite. Which almost seemed worse, because Clark already seemed to believe that the sun rose and set at Lex's command, and if Morgan felt the same way, well, that was just a lot of pressure to place on Lex's shoulders.
Lex hated having time off. He hated not being able to go into work. When he'd been working for his father, it'd never been like this. He'd been all right at his job, but not *good* at it, like he was at reporting. Not brilliant. Just average.
Which was probably why he'd lost the company.
But reporting.... It was his life. It was what he'd been born to do, obviously, otherwise he wouldn't be so observant. It'd been a skill he'd had all his life, but he'd never really seen a good use for it until he'd begun reporting.
And now, he was being asked to curb his ability to see.
Okay, to be fair, he'd brought it on himself. But only because Clark insisted.
That wasn't fair. Clark was only looking out for him. Just like he always did. And Lex couldn't resent him for that. They were getting married. It was only fair that Clark married someone who wasn't always cranky, tired, and depressed.
If only it was as easy as taking a pill or knowing that someone loved him. If only the past--both remembered and not--wasn't such a burden to Lex. But it wasn't easy. Lex had gaps in his memory and a father he'd never known. He had a history of abuse and a chemical imbalance and so much failure in his life. Clark deserved better, but he insisted that Lex was it, and Lex didn't have the strength to argue.
He loved Clark too much to argue. Even though, after two days of rest and one day on his own, time was already sharpening dangerously in his hands.
"What are you planning on doing today?" Clark asked as he dressed for work.
Lex was still in bed, sleepy and sated from that morning's impromptu lovemaking session. A part of Lex had to wonder if Clark had only made love to him so Lex didn't feel bad about being left behind. He'd only been complaining about having nothing to do since he'd woke up at four and been unable to get back to sleep. Clark had only been home from saving the world for three hours or so, and had not appreciated Lex whining in his ear about how life wasn't the same without the pulse of the newsroom, or the smell of ink, or Perry's constant bellowing. And how he missed the rush of almost missing a deadline, how his heart pounded and eyes strained, and he had to type so fast his fingers were almost a blur and he loved how his jaw ached because he always clenched a pen between his mouth, and...
Clark had finally rolled Lex onto his back and fucked him. Sometime later, after lots of teasing play as they built up sweat and pleasure, bringing it to its height Lex had returned the favor.
Now, watching as Clark prepared to go back to the world where the newsroom pulsed and the smell of ink filled the air, Lex couldn't help wonder, rather morosely, if it hadn't been a pity fuck.
Of course, considering how needy Clark had been, and how he'd whimpered and squirmed and grasped the headboard as Lex had driven into him....
It probably hadn't been pity sex. Probably.
"Nothing," Lex answered finally. "Sleep." He pulled a pillow to his chest.
Clark met his eyes in the mirror and kind of shook his head. "Isn't that what you did yesterday?"
"Yup. And I enjoyed it so much, I decided to do it again today."
"Maybe you should do something else today."
Lex yawned and rolled onto his stomach. He did not want to have this conversation. There was nothing to do outside of work worth doing. Except Clark.
"What should I do?"
Clark shrugged, tying his tie in a messy knot. "I don't know. Go to the park. Feed the ducks."
Lex rolled his eyes. "Ducks and I don't get along."
"So go to the park and throw rocks at the ducks. I don't care. Just do something."
He pulled a pillow over his head.
"Didn't Dr. Pascal tell you that you should try to find a yoga class?" Clark asked, taking the pillow from Lex.
"It's not urgent." He stretched, closing his eyes. "I can do that any time."
"Lex." Clark came back to bed and stretched on top of him. "Don't do this." He kissed the back of Lex's head.
"I'm tired," he whined.
"No, you're not." More kisses. "You're just being childish."
Lex hit him with a pillow. "I'm not being childish. I'm doing what I was ordered to do. Perry told me that I needed to take off time from work so I could relax." He pressed his shoulder against Clark, trying to get him to roll over.
Clark lifted his body and allowed Lex to turn.
"That's what I'm doing. I am taking time from work and to relax."
"Believe it or not, sleep and relax are not synonymous terms." Clark ran his fingers over Lex's lips. "The same way working and relaxing aren't synonymous. Everything you do, Lex, is full out. You can't do anything half-way, and I love that about you, but... But it scares me." He swallowed, eyes closing. "I'm afraid that if you don't find a way to balance yourself, that you're going to burn up. Burn out."
Ouch. He hadn't expected things to get serious. He was mostly teasing Clark.
He didn't want to hear Clark's fears about him. Clark was so strong. He was Lex's support, and he didn't let Lex see the fear. Not often.
Maybe not often enough.
"Well," Lex finally said, slipping his thumb into Clark's mouth. "I'll admit I'm obsessive." He made his voice as light and teasing as possible. "Once I find something--or someone," he added, allowing his voice to turn throaty, "then all I want to do is them."
Clark's eyes darkened and he leaned forward. "Lex," he whispered, sounding helpless. "I have to work."
Lex scooted closer to Clark and hooked one leg over his hip. "Stay," he purred, toying with the buttons on Clark's shirt. "Help me relax."
"You're the devil," Clark said. He kissed Lex gently and pulled away. "One of us has to go out and earn money. Otherwise our wedding rings will come out of Cracker Jack's boxes that we have to steal from a liquor store."
"Fine." Lex pushed Clark away and pouted. "Leave me. Everyone does." He threw an arm over his forehead and arched his back.
"You are such a drama queen."
Lex sniffed, pout deepening.
Clark laughed. "Stop it." He smacked Lex's arm lightly. "Please look for a yoga studio, Lex," he said. "Dr. Pascal's right; meditation is a good way to practice dismissing sensory input without shutting it all out. I mean, isn't part of the point of yoga becoming more open to the world around you?"
"Having never practiced it..."
"You wrote an article on the popularity, benefits, and myths of yoga four years ago. I can dig it up and send it to you if you've forgotten."
"I forgot that you're my own personal stalker as well as my lover," Lex said dryly.
Clark put his hand over his heart and said, "Reading your writing was the closest I ever got to heaven until I met you, Lex."
Lex snorted.
"I'll call you later, okay?" Clark came back to the bed and kissed Lex gently. "Do something fun today."
"Cross my heart," Lex said languidly. He lazily made the gesture over his chest, then circled his nipple slowly.
Clark's pupils dilated at the motion. Swallowing hard, he made like wanted to say something. Then, abruptly, he shook his head and left.
Lex laughed softly and rolled over. Even though he really wasn't planning on staying in bed all day, he closed his eyes and strained his ears, waiting until he was absolutely sure Clark was gone. It wasn't that he thought that Clark was spying on him through the walls or anything--Clark probably wouldn't use his powers like that unless he was certain Lex was completely unable to function--but sometimes, it was just nice to know that he was *alone*. Clark was the first person Lex had ever really lived with. He loved it, and he wouldn't ever want to live apart from Clark again, but... but sometimes, their apartment felt much to small. Clark was everywhere. Even when they were in different rooms, he was *there*. Sometimes, Lex felt claustrophobic and caged. Trapped.
Not that he'd ever admit it. He could never tell Clark that, sometimes, he longed to be alone, truly and completely. If he did, Clark might leave.
Once he was sure Clark was gone, Lex got out of bed. He took a long shower, using up all the hot water. The best thing about not having to go anywhere was the fact he got to lounge around for hours wearing sweatpants and one of Clark's shirts. He could smoke in the apartment, watch soap operas and trashy talk shows, and eat ice cream right from the carton.
Okay, so having time to himself wasn't the same as living with himself. But it was close.
Despite what he said to Clark, though, he wasn't planning on spending the whole day in bed. He had an appointment with Dr. Pascal today and couldn't afford to do that. She'd know. And she'd made him promise to look for a yoga class, unless he could think of a better way to deal with his ability to see way too much.
If he could, he wouldn't be like this, but Lex hadn't pointed that out to her. He'd just agreed to go along with her suggestion, and then proceeded to forget about it for three days.
It was crunch time. Time to buckle down and start looking. Of course, looking for a yoga studio wasn't what he wanted to be doing.
It wasn't that he didn't like Dr. Pascal or think she wasn't going to help him. He did like her. A lot. And he trusted her, too. If anything, it was nice having someone he didn't have a complex relationship with to talk with.
It was simply that, Lex now had time on his hand. Time, and a clue. And, okay, yes, Lex *knew* that Lois had dropped the clue in his lap, and he *knew* he shouldn't trust her, but....
Dr. Garner of Sommerholt Institute was a pioneer in brain research, and had done some interesting work with troubled teens. There was also some research on telepathy, but Lex felt almost guilty looking at that because he knew Clark's brother, Ryan, had been telepathic. It was due to a brain tumor, but Garner had a few files on Ryan.
Garner had also done work with people who'd had psychotic breaks, healing their minds and bringing them back to full mental capacity. In many cases, when they finished their treatment, they were working at a higher level of intelligence than they had been before.
And then, there was the memory recover research Garner was doing. It was very new research; he'd only been working on it for about six months. And he was looking for subjects to work on...
Lex knew that Lois had floated the information out deliberately. Never mind that he'd had to hack into her computer to find the information, it'd been too easy to get to and had practically had his name emblazoned across the file. The password had been his birthday, for God's sake. Not that Lois would ever admit she *remembered* when his birthday was. A lifetime full of belated or absence birthday gifts had never fooled Lex in the least.
But that wasn't the point. The point was Lois obviously intended for him to find the information, which meant that Lex needed to be careful what he did with it. He needed to think. He needed to weigh his options. He needed to talk to Clark.
Except, Clark would tell him to drop it. Lois wasn't to be trusted and neither was Garner. The two of them working together meant that, whatever they were doing, was illegal, dangerous, and highly unethical.
But, on the other hand, what if Garner's research was the key to unlocking Lex's past? There was so much he didn't know about himself. The cancer, Morgan. Even his mother was lost to the abyss that was his mind. Dr. Pascal was focused on getting him healthy in the here and now; she didn't seem to care about helping him recover what he'd lost. And maybe she was right, maybe he needed to deal with his life as it was now before he could deal with what it was then, but...
He felt so empty and lost. When you didn't have a past, how could you have a future? How could he and Clark have a future if Lex didn't know where he'd been?
So, in a way, it was like he was doing it for them.
If he did anything. Which he might not. It was just going to be a meeting. One, simple meeting with Dr. Garner to ask what he did at his institute, what his methods were, and what he hoped to gain. Reporter stuff. Except... more like freelance.
And, if he did it while he was out signing up for yoga class, that meant he was doing something good for himself.
At least, that's how he was going to justify it. Because, deep down, he knew that time had once again become a weapon that he was wielding. It just remained to be seen what kind of weapon and at whom.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-02-09 04:31 am (UTC)It's so wonderful to see another part of this posted!
Clark put his hand over his heart and said, "Reading your writing was the closest I ever got to heaven until I met you, Lex."
*snicker*
no subject
Date: 2006-02-10 05:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-09 07:36 am (UTC)time was already sharpening dangerously in his hands.
That's a really beautiful turn of phrase.
no subject
Date: 2006-02-10 05:35 am (UTC)*evil grin* I've been waiting for this for too long. :)
time was already sharpening dangerously in his hands.
That's a really beautiful turn of phrase.
Thank you. I was really proud of that phrase. I thought it sounded cool. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-02-09 04:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-10 05:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-09 11:00 pm (UTC)I'm anxious for the next part!
no subject
Date: 2006-02-10 05:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-09 11:40 pm (UTC)its back!!
*bounces*
no subject
Date: 2006-02-10 05:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-10 02:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-10 05:37 am (UTC)Thank you I will try to get more out as soon as I can. :)
no subject
Date: 2006-02-13 01:53 am (UTC)