Work Text:
It's been a long time since I was last in smallville. The muggy hot summer breezes. The orangey red sunset over the farmland. Nothing like Metropolis with its clammy cool weather all year round and enough tall buildings, smog and light pollution you can barely see the moon. I drive over the same bridge where I had first met Clark in that fortunate accident, towards the building in which I had lived for so many years. It looked as if nothing had changed. The hedges perfectly trimmed around the quartyard, not a single wayward leaf lies on the ground. The inside of the building was even more strange. It felt as though I had traveled back in time. Nothing had moved, yet there was not a single bit of dust. I don’t know why I still have money going into keeping this place upkept. I hand my suitcase to a young man in a cheap black suit. Probably an intern. I go upstairs to my old office with its big polished wood desk and even better the whisky cabinet. I grab a glass and a cube of ice before pouring myself one of my old favorite scotch whiskies to help me get through the amount of business calls I would be taking tonight. With a sigh I sit and lean back in the office chair and take a slow sip from the glass before the first call arrives.
“Yes, this is Lex Luthor speaking.”
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The next morning I wake up promptly at six to an alarm screeching in my ears and a sheepish knock on the door. I reach my arm from under the warm comforts of my blanket to turn off the alarm on my nightstand. With a sigh I sit up rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
“Yes?” I yell to the door. The young intern boy from last evening opens the door cautiously.
“Um, Mr. Luthor Sir… Um,” he’s cheeks go a flush pink as he realizes that I was lying covered only by the thin duvet. “ Oh, um , Sorry Sir.” He stands behind the door with it cracked just to make sure I hear him.
“The CFO is trying to reach you.”
“Thanks,” I say, without an ounce of appreciation in my voice I step out of bed and grab my velvet robe from the hook on which it hung. I open the door the rest of the way as I finish tying its belt around my waist.
“Call me Lex,” I look the intern boy in the eyes. “Mr. Luthor was my father.” I walk deeper into the mansion to see what was being asked of me so obscenely early in the morning.
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After many many more calls and meetings it was finally time to do more work. Just this I wouldn’t have to do in a chair. When I heard that the deep rooted Kryptonite contamination in Smallville had made its way into a corporation plant I insisted on coming to discuss it in person. It was mostly just an excuse to get out of my typical Metropolis Meeting room but after the amount of time I spend there I deserve a little change of pace. That doesn’t mean the meeting wasn’t bland as ever. After scoping out the problems and talking to managers I went to get lunch. As I drove through town I finally saw how much things had really changed. Smallville certainly wasn’t immune to gentrification and a large amount of the old family run businesses had been replaced by chains and corporations. Even the Talon had been replaced by some sort of youthful club. I get a bland chicken sandwich at a D class hipster restaurant and go back to my office to do more work. Typical stuff; phone calls, emails, meetings plans. Nothing interesting. I’m still slaving on my computer as I notice the sun beginning to set. I sigh leaning back in my chair. I need a night out.
******************
Smallville was beautiful at night. Even in town the stars shine unlike anywhere in Metropolis. Even for a Friday night it wasn’t busy though young folk walked along the street. I open the door to the bar that had taken the place of the Talon. It has some basic unmemorable name so I instantly decide to call it the new Talon. The new Talon looked relatively similar to the old one but the paint and furniture had been replaced to give it a more modern chic look. As I glance around the renovated bar table my eyes meet with those of a familiar bespectacled face.
“Clark?!”
“Lex?!”
Spider-Man meme occurs
“Why are you….?” I begin to ask, bewildered by the sudden appearance of my superpowered once friend.
“I’m the one who should be asking questions! What are you doing here. You haven’t been back to Smallville since… I don’t even know when.”
“I’m here for business, and you?” I snide.
“Yeah business in a bar. Not that that isn’t unlike you.” Considering I’m standing with the one man who’s looks can literally kill, I should be scared by the glare directed towards me. “ I for one have family here.”
“I have as much of a reason to be here as anyone else, can’t you just fuck off for once?”
“Literally every time you show up anywhere you’re up to no good.” He says under his breath, “Jerk.”
“Jackass.”
“Boys, cool it!” The person behind the bar exclaims and I notice the eyes from around the room which were glued on us. Clark always has been the one person that can get me so riled up as to argue thoughtlessly in the public eye. “Clark what’s up with you. You’re usually such a sweetheart.” They sigh, taping their scary long acrylic nails on the counter top.
“I like you so I’m going to give you a chance. You can either calm down and stay or fight outside.” I lift my hands in compliance as I sit at a bar stool next to a nodding Clark.
“It’s been a while since we’ve talked. In a civilized manner at least,” I say, extending my hand to him. He shakes it but his face says he doesn’t trust me. I flash him my winning smile. He rolls his eyes but I can see him warming up to me.
“Let me buy you a drink, what does a pure farm boy like you drink? Virgin daiquiri? Shirley temple?” He gives me an annoyed look.
“I’ll have a gin and tonic,” he states waving to the bartender. Darren says the name tag on their black button up. “ And let me guess… Whisky on the rocks for you.” I nod with a cheeky smile.
“So… how’s your mom doing…?”
When we had sipped away at our drinks and begin to walk out of the bar I’m more than a little tipsy.
“Owbout ya take me back to yur place like a genleman,” I slur poking him in the tit. He ignores me pulling my arm around his shoulder and starts to walk us towards a secluded area. Next thing I know I’m feeling windswept and only a little like vomiting and we are standing outside of the Kent family barn. He sits me down inside and in a blur and burst of wind has a glass of water in hand.
“Mm otally fine.”
“You're piss drunk. Take it.” He forces the glass into my hand. As I take a swig he sits down next to me. Close enough that I lean just a little on his shoulder. I’m starting to feel the post drinking tiredness and let my eyes blink shut as I fall into a deep slumber.
I wake up the next morning, if it’s even morning anymore, laying atop a small sofa in the Kent barn with a thin blue blanket spread over me and a pulsing headache.
“Clark?” I call out. He appears before me in a woosh of air.
“Feeling the repercussions of your actions?” He smirks at my obvious hangover.
“Well I had to keep up with you.”
“Lex, I can’t get drunk. You know that,” he says, raising his eyebrow.
“That doesn't change anything.” I laugh. It’s strange, me and Clark Kent, Superman and Lex Luthor just talking in this barn like we used to almost ten years ago. Maybe there’s a chance that we don’t have to be head to head all the time and this could just be normal. Just like the good old days.