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Although Lex has thrown his birthday parties on September 28th every year since establishing his own empire in Metropolis, Clark prepares a gift for the day in his memory. The day he climbed a small hill with Lex, a telescope in each of their hands, to celebrate the birthday boy under the countless stars. The date he will remember until his last days.
Of course, picking a gift for the man wasn’t easy. Anything he could afford on a reporter’s salary was unlikely to impress the man living in the most expensive house in the state. The odds notwithstanding, Clark is certain his choice will be entirely unpredictable, making it worth all the time he spent hesitating and second-guessing himself—four months since Lex’s release, three months since they repelled Brainiac together, and two and a half months since their… first, accidental sex. From the bottom of his heart, Clark wishes his gift could restore their relationship to the one he has always missed.
He knocks on the penthouse’s balcony door. An annoyed click of a tongue echoes from the master bedroom almost instantly. Despite the lead-lined walls, Clark can clearly picture the exact expression Lex is making. He wipes his palms on his cape before the door slides open.
“I’d like to ask to what I owe the pleasure, Superman,” Lex taunts his late-night guest, his arms folded across his chest. “But it seems I’ve run out of things to owe you. Only felons prowl around at this hour.”
Clark feigns a flinch as if scandalized by the snark. “Forgive me, Lex. At least I didn’t break into your home uninvited.”
“Whatever. Just state the purpose of your visit.”
With an awkward smile, Clark sweeps his gaze across the open space unobstructed by walls and doors. As he expected, though he had hoped to be wrong, there’s no sign that today is a special day for the sole resident who owns this house. No birthday cards, no cake, and no alcohol. Lex isn’t the type to drink in celebration when he’s alone, to be fair, but it still concerns Clark together with other implications.
Lex steps closer and blocks Clark’s line of sight.
“Are you snooping around my personal space?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just had something I wanted to check.”
Lex scoffs. “You’re an idiot if you believe I keep weapons in the same place I sleep and rest besides the Kryptonites.”
Did he just say Kryptonites? Plural?
For a moment, Clark goes back in his head if his memory is faulty; the last time Lex mentioned it, he used the singular Kryptonite. But before he can dwell on it, Lex presses him. “Just get it over with, Superman. How much more of my time do you need to waste to satisfy yourself?”
“Well, okay,” Clark takes one last deep breath, crossing his fingers that his unpredictable gift will satisfy Lex. “Happy birthday.”
Lex freezes, eyes widen, mistrusting his own ears. “Excuse me?”
“Happy birthday, Lex.”
Lex’s lips part as if to ask ‘how,’ but his immense pride silences him before a single undignified sound escapes. Clark watches the rapid turbulence rampaging through his brilliant mind. The shock that an alien creature knows a secret known only to his family, a date even the people of Smallville who had completely ignored the weird boy surely wouldn’t remember. Then, the sudden realization that there is one person in Metropolis who once cared about him, and who might know. And a brief moment of doubt, quickly morphing into a desperate denial of the truth.
The truth Lex had ghosted out of revenge over the years. The truth that had lain upon him, naked, in bed, just weeks ago. Too clear, too obvious, too massive to deny—
“You.” Lex spits the word out, furious, yet his face is so pale he looks drained of blood. “You kept your mouth shut when I felt utterly worthless—”
“Lex, I’m sorry, I couldn’t—”
“—and what, you just show up here to say sorry?” Lex cuts him off, his words flooded with a venom rarely seen since their intimate night. “Because you suddenly felt guilty about fucking your old friend and got sentimental? Did you really think handing me your biggest secret wrapped up in a birthday gift would make me weep with gratitude? That I’d just drag you to my bed again, Clark? Beg you to fuck me?”
“Yes!” Clark’s voice cracks, unnaturally loud from an overwhelming wave of guilt. He continues while the raw honesty, so far from the usual boy scout image of both of his identities, stops the man who had just spat his name like a slur. “Yes, I want to sleep with you! I want to hold your hand and kiss you, Lex, but I don’t want to do it when you don’t know who you’re looking at. I just… I just want you to know the man you let kiss you isn’t just Clark Kent and isn’t just Superman.”
Lex lowers his gaze, hiding the restless storm in his blue eyes. Clark waits with his heart hammering too loudly to conceal, though his flushed face would easily expose his current state anyway, until his old friend is ready to speak.
When the words finally come, they sound closer to a quiet statement, rather than a skeptical accusation.
“You weren’t afraid of me that night.”
“No,” Clark shakes his head gently. “How could I ever be afraid of my best friend I looked up to more than anyone?”
Lex keeps his eyes shut for a long moment as if it’s the only way to guard the intense turmoil behind them. Clark desperately wishes he could see through that barrier to trace the tangled branches of the man’s thoughts. Is he recalling the fire in the lab? Is he remembering the birthday nights they used to spend together? Will he… will he accept this present—the belated confession that there was always someone in his life who believed in his inventions, his genuine intentions, and most of all, Lex himself?
That there was someone who had loved him all this time?
That he had never truly been alone.
“I won’t kiss you, Clark.” The name, uttered after the minute hand makes at least two full circles, isn’t a slur this time. “Today’s my birthday, and you dare anticipate a gift?”
From the profound depth of memories built upon those nights, meteors, birthdays, complaints, misunderstandings, and unwavering affection, Clark realizes exactly what he must do to please the birthday boy. So, he closes the distance, and wraps his arms tight around the man waiting for another present in a physical form.