Lois Lane was above this.
She was an empowered female, a glorious woman. She roared, and all of Metropolis heard it. After all, she graduated from MetU's renowned journalism program six months early, had fought her way into the Daily Planet newsroom, earned her place in the bullpen, and gotten nominated for her first Pulitzer, all before she was twenty-five years old. Lois is a woman, a strong, empowered woman, through and through.
So that means she shouldn't be agreeing to this.
"Okay," she says, because you know, Lex Luthor.
And Clark Kent.
And Jesus, isn't that an unholy union?
There's something really wrong about this.
Lois has always been open-minded, cheerful and happy around gay people, it's only now that she's feeling really resentful, because for the love of Christ, one of them is bad enough, it's just not fair that both of them play for the other team. The fact that they play exclusively for one another is just all kinds of hot and Lois isn't going to admit it to anyone anytime soon, but she probably needs to change her panties.
She is not going to stick her hands down her skirt right now - that is very important.
Lex smiles at her thickly, the way he used to before she broke up with him. She doesn't remember why she did that.
"I'm surprised, Lois," he says, voice like liquefied sex.
Clark glares. "Lex. Don't push it." Lex rolls his eyes and Clark turns back to Lois, looking grateful. "Really, thanks a lot, Lois."
He looks eager, overhappy, like some sort of twisted, sexy version of a puppy dog. Which makes her think of dogs in general, which, phonetically, really, because it's not like Lois Lane's a dirty pervert or anything, sounds like "doggy" and then it's all down the hill from there. There's no point in trying not to think about it, because Lois can just see it like the best porn channel ever: Lex and Clark together, Lex Luthor and Clark Kent. Metropolis' Most Eligible Bachelor four years running and Clark Kent, farmboy lust-magnet extraordinaire - and God, doesn't that just figure?
"I'll have the contracts delivered this afternoon," Lex says importantly, completely destroying Lois' moment with the not-so-tiny Clark and Lex in her head.
She stares at him and Clark narrows his eyes disapprovingly. "We don't need contracts, Lex." Clark turns to smile at her cheerfully. "Lois is my friend."
Yeah, real friendly. She's probably going to end up doing something irresponsible if she keeps thinking about this.
Lex, of course, knows her better than Clark, even if they're not friends. They're "friends."
"Of course she is," he says soothingly, one long-fingered hand on Clark's thigh, possessively and stroking. "Just to be safe."
She is too old to be having trouble getting her synapses to function properly. And she has a deadline, and stories, and Jesus, Luthor!
Clark seems to like being petted as much as Lex likes to pet and he melts into the voice. "I guess." He turns to smile at her again. "That's okay, right, Lois?"
You know what would be okay, Lois is thinking, if you both took of your pants right now. No, really. I'll wait.
"Okay," she says again. She is saying that a lot. A long time passes before she manages, "So. How long...?"
Clark grins broadly as Lex leans back into the sofa lazily. "Since college," Clark says casually. Like incredibly gorgeous men that owe it to the gene pool to be straight or at least bi meet in college and have incredible sex (it has to be incredible sex, Lois refuses to think otherwise) all the time. If they really do, Lois is angry that she graduated early, because she has missed something Really Special.
"College," she says dully. She is a reporter, she can do better. But really, all she can think about is porcelain-pale skin and cock, so it's all moot.
"We met in Smallville," Clark continues, "way back when. But we didn't get together until college."
Lex is just a lazy sprawl of indecent sensuality on the couch. Lois wants to slap him around. Or have sex with him. Them. Whichever. You know.
She is not seeing Clark getting down on his knees between Lex Luthor's thighs (and she remembers what brilliant thighs they are) or wrapping his pretty mouth and full lips around the head of a thick cock, swallowing and lathing and pressing it with his very pink tongue to the roof of his mouth while he stares at Lex with large, green eyes.
Because none of that is at all conducive to her being able to have this conversation.
"Jesus," she mutters. "Wow."
Clark looks guilty for a flash, and Lois thinks it's about fucking time. He owes her new underwear. If there's wet patch on her skirt, heads will role before she commits seppuku.
"Are you sure you're okay with this, Lois?" he asks her, nervous. "I mean - the only reason I, we, asked is because, well..."
"Because it's complicated with Lex and you and I'm perfect for it and blah blah blah," she fills in, amazed that words are actually coming out of her mouth.
Clark smiles, so much more kindly than Lex. "So you agree?" Lex asks, like this is some sort of afterthought, like she doesn't have a choice.
She grits her teeth and nods. "I said yes, Clark."
He smiles at her, big, bright, and hopeful.
And as they are leaving the restaurant, Lois reflects that whatever fair is, fair is not agreeing to be a beard for Clark Kent. "But I want to succeed on the merit of my own work," Clark said, she remembers. "And...well, people are already suspicious," he told her, like an apology. "I really need someone, Lois, and you're the best person I can think of. My best friend, you know that, right?" he said.
Like Lois Lane is going to say no to Clark's face when he's begging her for help.
She watches them share one lingering gaze before Lex slips into the backseat of the dark sedan, and watches the car peel away from the curb. She watches Clark watch Lex go, a longing expression in his eyes. "I wish it was different," he said earlier, "but it's not. And Lex agreed because he understands this. You've got to help me out, Lois." "Can't you just ask for a kidney like everyone else?" she complained.
Yeah, Lois reflects, brushing a totally heatless goodbye kiss to Clark's soft mouth ( - and she can still see those lips pressed to Lex's, biting along a pale hip, suckling and kissing and stroking with his pink, pink tongue - ) before he blushes and leaves -
Whatever fair is, fair isn't this, not for any of them.
Written in exchange for Happy CLex from Jenn, and I fully intend to collect - Pru