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He was bored.

Algebra was boring.

He could do these calculations in his sleep. The teacher droned on and on. Clark started drifting, tuning out the lecture, and doodling in his spiral notebook.

He came back to reality when Mr. Enright's tone of voice changed, signaling that he was about to wrap it up and give out the homework assignment. Clark got ready to write it down and stopped in shock as he noticed the characters that he had unconsciously sketched.

Lana was clearly recognizable as a rabbit. Her little nose twitching, her slanted eyes crinkled as she smiled dreamily, lost in some fantasy world. She appeared completely clueless to the fact that the slender hand gripping her long ears was holding her directly over a bubbling stew pot.

Clark blinked in shock at the man holding the rabbit.

It was Lex.

He was smiling evilly -- the corners of his mouth curling upward. One eyebrow was arched mockingly. He was dressed in an apron and high chef's hat. Clark had drawn his figure thicker than it really was, with straight sides that extended from the bottom of the hat to his feet, like a column. Standing stiffly erect, with the poofy, mushroom shaped hat on his head he almost looked like a …

Clark quickly flipped the cover closed on his notebook and glanced guiltily around to see if anyone else had seen.

The bell rang and he slunk out of class, his shoulders hunched and his head down.

The End

He was going to die - and it was so unfair.

He hadn't succeeded yet.

He had neither dominated this miserable world nor achieved the destruction of his nemesis. This just could not be happening to him. He was the Luthor after all, and Luthor's didn't fail.

Never-the-less, as he watched the stone wall of his secret lair begin to crumble he knew the horror of failure. His body would as crushed as his ego, here, in the catacombs beneath New Orleans. No one would even find his remains.

As a particularly large slab of concrete crushed his sinister machine, he sobbed softly, bitterly. This plan should have worked. The now flattened machine should have been the device that gave him the ultimate power. He had designed and built it himself. It was his pride, his hope, his redemption. It should have reduced the thousands that partied in the streets above him to mindless zombies. His for the taking. They should be worshipping his genius by now. Instead, here he was, watching the ceiling cave in on him.

How had this happened? he wondered.

Then suddenly a flash of blue and red streaked between him and the tons of debris that was falling all around him.

Shit! Fuck! and God Damn! He should have known!

He felt strong hands lifting him under the armpits. Then those same strong arms wrapped around him. Darkness covered him. Wind swept past him in a roar. His head spun with the sensation of extreme speed.

Sudden light stung his eyes and a strange fragrant odor assailed his nose. Blinking his blue-gray eyes against the glare he looked around in astonishment. He was in a glade surrounded by tropical foliage. A shimmering ribbon of water cascaded down from a rocky cliff into a pool of water so clear that he could see the colorful fish that filled it.

He smirked at the sight of that dreaded foiler of all his evil plans. The tall, dark haired man stood silently watching him.

"Nice suit," Lex said as he flicked his eyes over the skimpy swimming suit his nemesis had changed into. "This doesn't look like prison," he noted, "and you don't look like any guard."

Clark crossed his arms and sighed. "Actually this will be your prison and I will be your guard."

The bald man scowled.

"I can't have you erasing people's brains, Lex, or re-programming them to be your adoring slaves."

"Believe me, Clark, they'd be a lot happier. Think how much angst I could save them," Lex twisted his lips in a smile.

"Stop that," Clark moved a step closer, "I will not let you charm your way out of this one."

The taller man reached out on started to remove Lex's jacket, slowly pulling it off, then starting on the vest buttons.

"Let's get you out of all these clothes, it's not like there is anyone else on this island to see you."

"Let me just get this straight, Clark." Lex said as he obligingly shrugged his shoulder to help in his effort to undress him. "You've brought me to a deserted, tropical, clothing optional, island. What do plan on doing with me now?"

"And here I thought you were the genius." Clark said just before he bent his head down and started suckling on Lex's left nipple.

Here I lay, in bed, once again unable to sleep. My plan failed--miserably. Now I not only have the longings and the desires but I also have guilt.

It used to call to me in the night, a soft voice that whispered my name.

Clark, it would call smoothly. Take me. Touch me. It is our destiny.

I tried everything to silence its knowing whispers. I buried it under a pile of old, outgrown sneakers in my bedroom closet. I put it behind mom's pickle jars in the basement. I left it in my lof--big mistake that was. Out there in my loft it had an even stronger pull.

Without conscious thought I would find it in my hands, my fingers kneading the thick, pliable metal. I would look down amazed at the finger marks I'd left on its smooth skin - um - surface.

Old antique boxes don't have skin, Clark. I'd try to convince myself.

Then the thing would force me to touch it. Instead of lead I would feel perfect, putty skin that begged for my touch. Skin that I ached to press my fingertips into and leave small impressions on.

When the thing wasn't in my hands, I found myself looking at it, wishing it was. The lead should have been just a dull gray but instead it gleamed with a strange pearly luminescence like Lex's eyes on a cloudy day. Constantly drawing my gaze to it.

So I gave it away.

I thought knowing Lana had it would drive its smug voice out of my head. I was wrong.

Damn my super-hearing. I can still its seductive whisper from her house a mile away. Calling to me--pulling me in a direction I'm not sure I want to go.

I gave away something that was important to my best friend just to ease my disturbing longings for him. I never knew I could be so selfish, or, such a coward.

Here I lay, in bed--unable to sleep as I try to figure out a way to get the box back.

Perfection can be such a burden. Now it's Lex Luthor who is entranced by my perfection.

Sigh.

Poor dear man, so starved for affection. Now he'll join Clark, Whitney and the others that worship at my dainty feet. He must already love me so. Why, he was positively glowing while he listened to me, not his usual cold self at all. His worship of me is already improving him.

Her eyes slanted, her perfect little bunny nose crinkled, and her mouth curved dreamily.

A look of wonder crossed her features.

Dreamily she started planning the wedding.

He smirked as he sank into his car, his body still aching deliciously in the most sensitive places.

His body and soul were still warm from finally experiencing love at its fullest.

He thrust the car into gear as he hurried back to the castle to collect a few more benefits.

*this was written for a challenge to redo the Talon scene in Nicodemus and substitute a pollinated Clark for the pollen infected Lana,

Lex was getting nowhere and it was making him sick to his stomach. He shifted the phone to his other ear - as if by switching ears he could change what he was hearing.

"That is not an acceptable answer," he said in a low voice so that the customers couldn't overhear. "You are supposed to be the best. That's why you are on the payroll." He gritted his teeth as the voice on the other kept giving him excuses instead of answers. Discouraged, but not yet willing to let the doctor off the hook, he let his eyes wander about the room.

Lana walked by burdened with a tray of soft drinks. She was filling in for a sick waitress and had been bustling around busily for the last hour. She smiled her dreamy smile at him as she hurried to a table in the corner to deliver the order.

Lex grimaced as the dark beauty lost control of her tray and barely managed to avoid dousing their customers as she juggled the platter. He let out a soft whistle of relief when disaster was narrowly avoided. Lana Lang was a sweet kid and a good hostess. She could manage to greet people with a ready smile and get them seated - but anything more skilled was beyond her.

She looked ashamed as she approached him on her way back to the bar. He gave her his best supportive smile and a wink as he tried to remember who else was on the Talon's payroll. There had to be someone that he could call in to relieve her of her waitressing duties before her ineptitude ended up destroying their brand new business.

He was so busy listening to his medical expert in Metropolis and plotting how to keep Lana out of trouble, that it was a moment before the girl's shocked expression registered. He was startled to see the emotional depth that she managed to express on features he had long ago decided were molded out of poly-resin. He twisted on the barstool - curious to see what kind of scene could have possibly caused such a transformation to take place - and dropped his cell-phone.

Clark was standing behind him. The boy wasn't quite nude … yet, but he only had his jeans left to remove. His jacket, shirt and undershirt were a pile of cotton and flannel at his feet. His green eyes were staring fixedly at Lana as his hands reached for the buttons on his fly.

"Clark!" Lex hopped down off the stool and stood directly in front of his friend. "What are you doing?"

Big green eyes lowered to his. A pink tongue slipped out and licked the full red lips.

"I'm tired of hiding so many secrets, Lex." Clark's eyes strayed again to the frozen girl. "I want everyone to see me as I really am." His hands started working at the buttons again. "And what I really want."

Lex grabbed at Clark's hands as he boy hooked his thumbs into his waistband and began to shimmy out of the denim.

"Clark…" Lex felt pain in the pit of his stomach as the guilty realization hit him. "You're infected - just like your father."

Clark pulled his hands free easily and kept his eyes locked with Lex's as he finished stripping.

"Everyone get out!" Lex yelled, but no one moved to leave. "Lana. Go," he ordered out of the side of his mouth - he didn't want to break the eye contact, as if he might somehow still be able to calm his friend. "Clark's delusional - not responsible. He doesn't know what he's doing."

"Yes I do, Lex. I know exactly what I'm doing - something I've wanted to do for a long time." He smiled gently as he pointed southward. "See … I'm ready to lose my virginity."

Lex's mouth dropped open as he stared down at the stiff cock -- a sparkling drop of pre-cum already oozing out of the tip.

He stared at Clark's arousal for longer than he should have before tearing his eyes away by the shear force of Luthor willpower.

Clark was looking at the frightened Lana again. He had a sad, but determined look on his face.

"I'm sorry, Lana," Clark's voice was deep and husky with desire, "but you're just not my type."

With that he pulled Lex into a crushing embrace and covered the man's lips with his own lush red ones.

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