Chapter Text
Lex laced his fingers together, staring intently at the newspaper spread out over his desk.
RED-BLUE BLUR—URBAN LEGEND?
He felt a laugh bubble up inside him.
After everything—this was how he got confirmation?
Clark's love of primary colours and plaid?
He'd suspected since the beginning, of course.
But every time he took decisive action to confirm it, any theory about Clark's powers and constitution was disproven.
The time he'd taken three of the only people he cared about hostage, for instance.
The thing that had been the death knell of his and Clark's friendship.
He regretted it, of course.
But perhaps only because it had failed.
He'd just been going mad—knowing Clark had told everyone else, that he was an outlier, that he wasn't trusted by his best friend, the one person who proved goodness was real—
Well.
It hadn't been fun.
Or particularly good for his brain.
If it had succeeded, though—if he'd had proof of Clark using his powers on camera. . .
He could've confronted him about it. Had something to toss back to the accusations of putting Clark's dearest in danger, been able to get righteously angry.
Been the one to end their friendship over all the lies.
Except he could never have done that.
This was Clark they were talking about, after all.
Lex had never been able to deny him anything, least of all his love.
Even if Clark clearly had no such problem.
The bitterness pooled in his chest.
He looked out the window of his apartment—it was so very different from the mansion in Smallville.
But he'd had to move.
Clark was working here now, after all. At the Daily Planet, with Lois Lane of all people.
And Lex didn't have his speed to be able to commute between Smallville and Metropolis so easily.
He just spent weekends in the small town, pretending this decision had nothing to do with Clark and his outbursts of self-righteousness that led him to crashing the mansion.
It sounded unhinged when he put it like that.
But his life mostly revolved around getting Clark to notice him and barge in his life, uninvited.
That was the only way they remained in contact, after all.
If he confronted him about being the Red-Blue Blur—
Who was to say events wouldn't conveniently be arranged so that Lex would become the bad guy?
No. He was going to remain silent.
And see what Clark had to say.
Of course, he said nothing.
Just like he hadn't in the years prior.
But Lex knew. And Clark knew he knew.
And over time, it had stopped being hurtful.
It was now more of a joke.
Until Green Arrow's identity was revealed to the world—the one with whom Clark had teamed up so many times.
And Oliver Queen had known before him?
Unacceptable.