Chapter Text
It wasn’t the first time since the phone call that Jonathan had found him like this. Just standing there staring off into space, face flushed and lips parted. He looked so obviously aroused that Jonathan felt uncomfortable. He'd noisily cleared his throat and turned away, wondering if he should have another talk with Clark.
He probably should … but that would mean explaining how he’d come to eavesdrop on a private conversation. He should have just hung up the phone the moment he realized he’d picked up while Clark was on the phone — despite the fact it was with that sick, manipulative bastard Lex Luthor — he should have, but he hadn’t.
He should have done a lot of things, but one glance at that too adult look on his young son’s face forced thoughts of stern lectures and sincere sounding apologies right out of his head. Nothing he said would make a difference anyways, it would only push Clark farther away from home and closer to Lex.
No, Clark had to learn from his own mistakes. And judging by his perpetually red face and slightly trembling hands that he'd been unsuccessfully trying to hide since he’d gotten off the phone, Clark had made a doozy.
Because Jonathan knew, between a conversation in town with a certain delivery driver and the static filled, choppy cell conversation Clark had had with Lex earlier ... that it was his clock that Lex was eager to show Clark.
TBC