Archive of Our Own ^beta

There was no way that he was feeling bad. He was perfectly fine. Those were not tears burning the backs of his eyeballs. He was Lex Luthor, he did not cry. The world was just the way it was supposed to be. He was not missing Clark Kent. He was not regretting any of the decisions he had ever made in his life. He was not...

Lex blew out his breath in a hard exhalation that made his chest feel like it was drawing taut around him. For a second, his whole world was in that single breath. Then it was gone, and everything snapped back to the way it had been... miserable.

He had been sitting on his couch for the past two hours just staring off into space with an unopened bottle of scotch and a neatly folded newspaper on the coffee table in front of him. Glancing at the newspaper, the creases in the page were ruler perfect, the absolute precision of the folds a mark of just how anal retentive he could become. The bottle next to the newspaper was turned just so, the label facing him head on, tempting him.

The impulsive Lex of his youth was urging him to drink the bottle empty, to just sling it straight back down his throat. That old Lex would have happily turned him into a raging alcoholic. It was almost funny.

There were so many things he had done that he had wished he could take back, yet now he was having second thoughts about something. Now his stupid conscience and morals and everything else in his head were kicking in to tell him not to drink the scotch, not to lose control, not to let the last scrap of his self-respect slip through his fingers.

He could almost wish that he could just let Impulsive-Lex take him over. It would be nice just to let go. He hadn't done it in a long time. But he couldn't.

"Damn you," he whispered fiercely. His hands clenched into hard, knotted fists and he held them against his chest, bowing his head so he could press his chin tight against his knuckles, feeling the ache of bone against bone. His skin had gotten so thin.

There were things in his life that he regretted, things that he would have taken back if the chance had ever presented itself. But he couldn't. Once something happened, that was it. The deed was done. He was stuck with this life of loneliness... incredible power, wealth beyond most peoples' imaginings, but crushing, spirit-breaking loneliness. He had no one, and no one had him.

Once upon a time he had had the chance to be happy, but he had let it go without a single complaint. And if he could have, he would have gone back to that day and yelled and screamed and brought the world to its knees, anything not to have let him walk out of his life. But it was too late. It was always too late.

He had tried to turn Lex into a better person, but Lex had been too wise for that, too cynical and world-weary. Lex had thought he had known everything, so he had refused to learn, to change and grow, to give even a single inch. So he had left, had just walked out the door one day and never come back. And Lex had pretended it didn't matter, had played it cool, fooled himself into thinking that of course it wasn't over for real, of course he would knock on the door and their great friendship would go on like before and Lex would never have to apologize for the things he'd said, the things he'd done. Lex would never have to show the fact that he was human, because he would be the one to bare his soul and be vulnerable so Lex wouldn't have to. He would come back, and everything would go back to how it had been, and Lex would be happy.

"Meow!"

Lex flinched from the sound and jerked his hands down into his lap. His skin prickled and his breath caught in surprise. He turned to look at the cat. "Miles, what are you doing here? I thought you would be sleeping."

"Mreow!" The fat, orange tabby cat yowled, striding across the floor like the emperor he knew he was. Without a single thought to perfectly pressed black slacks, the cat stroked himself against Lex's legs, leaving a trail of short yellow hairs.

"Dammit," Lex said. There was none of the usual fire in the words. He couldn't get mad at the cat today. Miles had been a gift from him, the last Lex had ever received. And today it felt good to look at the mildly obese cat and know that once he had been a part of Lex's life, had been his best and only real friend, that once Lex had been happy, even if he hadn't really known it at the time.

With only a single thought about his clothes, Lex leaned down and scooped the cat up into his arms, hugging him tightly. Warm fur against the bared skin of his neck and face while rolls of fat slid against his fingers. It was nice to have something alive against him; it made Lex feel real.

"I can't believe he didn't even invite me," Lex whispered. He hated how forlorn he sounded, like an orphaned child complaining that nobody cared.

A single tear slipped down his cheek, and he didn't even have the excuse of being drunk.

On the table, the newspaper sat. It had been opened to the third page, then carefully folded so only a single article was in view.

"LOIS LANE AND CLARK KENT TAKE THE PLUNGE!" Our heartfelt congratulations go out to Daily Planet reporters Lois Lane and Clark Kent for their upcoming nuptials on Saturday. All of us at the Planet have only one thing to say..."FINALLY!"