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It’s the third pregnancy test Lex hurls at the mirror. He doesn’t want to see his reflection and rubs his face frantically. It’s not quite anger—it’s an anxiety rising from his gut all the way to his chest. How could he let Superman do this to him? Because it was his fault. Because ending up with his child after having an affair born of nothing but curiosity and leftover hatred was also on him.
Lex had never wanted to be a father.
At least, that was a lie he had forced himself to repeat as many times as possible. Lionel was not the best example, and Lex was simply… tired. Tired of life and of maintaining bonds he never knew how to care for. He had always been alone. Lex had never had to take care of anyone, and no one had ever taken care of him.
That’s why the situation hit him as hard as it did. His body trembled, the last time he had cried was precisely when he had gotten into trouble because of Superman. The hatred that had once settled in his chest wasn’t hatred anymore; he realized it was envy. Envy because he had never been able to claim even a shred of Superman’s kindness. Because he had never been able to fly that close to the sun without burning.
And now he was here, with no choice but to continue. Lex had never been in favor or against abortion, but he was well aware that with everything he’d consumed in his life—industrial amounts of caffeine, among other things—it was nearly impossible for him to have a child. And yet there it was, that tiny embryo mocking him. Of course, a worthy child of Superman: success at the very first attempt.
Lex wept curled up in the corner of the bathroom, lined with dark, elegant tiles. He covered his face with his arms and hugged his legs to his chest. He doesn’t understand why or how he ended up in that position, and he feels once again alone—learning to live without an example to follow. Alone, and that terrifies him the most. There’s no one to ask what he should do, no shoulder to cry on when he can’t even decide how to feel about it.
Anxiety makes his chest rise and fall too quickly, like he might die. Is this what a heart attack feels like? He squeezes his legs tighter and counts to ten. He bites his lower lip until he tastes the acid sting of blood. He wants to scream, keep it all inside, tell no one, but at the same time he begs for guidance, for an answer. The methodical Lex Luthor. And that’s makes everything worse.
He’ll be a terrible father if he decides to keep it. He won’t be able to hold the child, won’t be there, won’t love them, won’t stay close. Lex is a busy man, and he fears his time won’t be enough—that might the child will grow up with the same resentment Lex carried toward Lionel. It’s all shit. He is shit, and the situation is even worse because Superman is actually the father. The only option seems to be getting rid of it, but he doesn’t know who to ask for help.
He makes no decision that night. He just cries until his head throbs and his eyes burn so much that the next day, Mercy leaves eyedrops on his desk without saying a word. His friend, the only person who never asked him for more. He even feels guilty for being the kind of boss he is. Lex is a tangle of emotions, and he blames the little bean inside him. Nothing more.
——
That day, he throws himself into work, because the idea of running for president has lingered in his mind for a long time. There’s so much to research, so much to read, so much to do that he even forgets to eat. He doesn’t even remember he’s carrying Superman’s child until a faint cramp in his stomach reminds him that it’s ten at night and he hasn’t had a bite all day. He panics when he realizes he’s had way too much coffee as well.
The worry nearly brings him to tears again, and he looks at Mercy like he’s about to shout in fear. He rises from his massive desk, voice firm but polite.
“Bring me something to eat, and please, schedule me an appointment with my doctor for tomorrow.” Lex moves quickly, grabbing some bottles of water. He doesn’t know much, but he remembers that keeping something alive requires fluids. Nausea returns, and he sits to wait for his food. When it arrives, he eats in silence, wondering what the hell that burst of concern was about.
The next day at the doctor’s office, his suspicions are confirmed. Lex is pregnant, and to his surprise, the baby is over two months along. Nearly entering the third month, when the embryo is firmly developing and the risk of miscarriage drops. The doctor answers Lex’s questions concisely, saying everything looks fine, though his stress levels are through the roof. He should keep that in check, for the baby’s sake—because, according to the doctor, “they feel everything.”
Lex nearly throws a pen at his head. What the hell does he know? Then Lex speaks. His voice is barely a thread as he mentions the possibility of getting rid of the problem. That way, he can continue his life as always—free of ties to an alien who only ever brought him misfortune. He almost feels impure for thinking that something already part of him is something bad. Conflict frustrates him.
“Of course it can be done before the third month, Mr. Luthor. I can schedule an appointment if that’s what you want, It’s just…”
“What?” Lex snaps.
“The fetus seems to be growing faster than normal.” Something he had never seen in a human. “If you try, your health could be at risk. And if I may, I think you should hear this.”
Lex isn’t interested—or maybe he just doesn’t want to cry again—when the sound of the heartbeat fills the room. He knows what the doctor means. Strong and healthy. The rhythm is a little faster, like it’s shouting: I’m here, Dad. It almost makes him throw up. The thought of getting rid of “it” squeezes his chest in a way he doesn’t know—or doesn’t want—to name.
He hates himself for thinking it. Superman is no longer part of the equation. Now it’s the child—the heir—of Lex Luthor. That’s what it is. His child. He can raise it without the shadow of the world’s savior looming over him. He has no intention of telling Superman, and if he ever finds out, Lex will make sure he never gets too close.
Superman was sent to have heirs. The idea makes Lex sick. He can’t picture the man doing the same with others. It burns him to think he might just be one more—an accident.
——
Lex wants to tell Mercy. She’s his right hand, she has the right to know. Her surprise makes him regret it for a second, but then she smiles. There’s no weakness in Lex’s team. Still, the thought of a child running through the office, bringing some color to the dark and elegant company, makes her happy. Mercy congratulates him and promises to do everything to make sure he has no more worries, even if it means working twice as much.
And that was reason enough for Mercy to buy a cotton T-shirt from a designer brand as the first gift. Of course, she wasn’t going to let anyone take that from her. The shirt is blue and has a little dog with a carrot on its nose. It’s pathetic and funny, and when Lex sees Mercy walk away, he folds it carefully—almost—smiles. He won’t say anything about her boldness and only makes a faint approving gesture with his nose. Lex imagines a small baby wearing that thing and thinks he will never allow anyone to see his baby dressed in such loud, cheerful colors.
———————
Lex knows nothing about Superman. In fact, he’s almost sure the Justice League has him off doing something important, and since Lex hasn’t bothered with anything that could endanger Metropolis, the city is safe, very safe, so he doesn’t waste his energy on trouble either. Weeks pass and everything remains as it should. The alien makes no appearances, so there’s no reason for him to burst through his office windows or come looking for him. Lex even thinks he’s doing it on purpose—that he’s avoiding him out of guilt or regret for his slip-up. Fine by him. He wants to avoid conflict for now.
A month later, Lex has to make a public appearance for another successful business deal, but the pregnancy doesn’t make it easy and his feet hurt. The discomforts of are bearable, though—he’s hungry almost all the time and, above all, so sleepy that he sometimes nods off right in his office.
He has an app on his phone that tells him the size of the fetus, and now it’s the size of an apple. Incredible that something so small can cause so much trouble. He doesn’t know if it’s because its father is Kryptonian or for some other reason, and he doesn’t think too much about it. He keeps up with his checkups, and everything’s fine—the baby is healthy and growing, he reminds himself. He and the baby are fine. His fear that something will go wrong or that he’ll be discovered almost makes him panic, but he reminds himself he doesn’t care if they notice his swelling belly or if rumors spread—he’d kill anyone who dared harm him or slander him. Besides, it’s too cold for anyone to notice under the heavy coat he’s wearing. He’s being anxious over something as natural as standing in front of a crowd, and he realizes it’s just the fear that someone might hurt his baby, that they’d be as cruel as they were when he ruined everything before.
It’s not until hours later, while speaking at the welcome party for that important circle of people, that he nearly collapses, barely managing to grab Mercy’s arm. In those few seconds, he thinks only of his baby. His stomach hurts, cold sweat breaks out, and he manages to drop to his knees so as not to hurt it. He doesn’t know what’s happening, but he can’t stay on his feet; the lights spin, his body slips from his control, his eyes close, and the last thing he sees is the clumsy reporter from The Planet pushing people aside to help him.
He looks worried, and Lex knows something must be wrong if he’s the first to reach him so quickly. Makes sense the press would be covering the event. He wonders if Clark will write about it while letting himself drift into unconsciousness.
Lex wakes up, his head aches badly. Moonlight seeps in, and he realizes he must have slept for hours. He doesn’t know why he’s in a hospital—he should be in his own room, being cared for. Was it so serious that he ended up here? Maybe they just wanted to make sure the baby was okay.
Beside him lies a red cape covering him. He immediately throws it off as if it burned him—it’s a reminder that no matter how much he denies it, Superman will come back. He’s scared. His hands go to his stomach, and he feels the baby still there. It wasn’t a dream—the little apple still exists. He didn’t lose it. He’s terrified of that. His mouth is dry, likely from whatever sedatives are dripping through the IV and again, he’s alone.
His anxiety spikes the machine, and the doctor rushes in. His voice is calm, though tinged with worry making Lex blink and pay attention.
“Lex, you had a decompensation. I believe, because of the nature of your pregnancy, you’ll need more nutrients—food alone isn’t enough. We’ll set up a detailed plan, and you’ll have to take great care. This is serious, son. That baby still needs to grow a lot.”
Ah. So that’s why he’d felt so bad. That stupid alien wasn’t just ruining his life, he was messing with his child, making it abnormal. Of course—it was obvious. Now he’d need to eat for an army and feel heavy and drowsy all the time.
Lex thanks him and glances at the IV line stuck in his veins. Looks like he’ll need extra vitamins. He’s sure Superman knows about the situation now. He has no energy to plot, so he resigns himself. After all, Superman hadn’t used protection, and Lex hadn’t held him at gunpoint to have sex. It happens—rarely, but it happens. Reasonably speaking, it’s better for both of them this way.
Mercy is angry and tugs the alien’s arm when he walks into the room. Lex signals her to let him in. She’s doubtful but still glares at Superman, silently warning him she has kryptonite hidden everywhere.
They’re alone again, and Superman steps closer, careful not to push him. He knows it’s like stalking prey, and Lex is more vulnerable than ever.
“Was this always your plan? That’s low—even for you, Lex. You weren’t even going to tell me, or worse… use a son against me?”
Lex feels disgust rising in his throat. He glares at him with such fury it looks like he might burst into tears—if not for his pride being stronger. Of course, that would be Superman’s first reaction. He wonders how he found out, if that stupid reporter told him, and Clark just put the pieces together.
“Unfortunately, you figured it out on your own. I wasn’t going to tell you. You’re useless in this. This is for me.”
That’s what slips from his mouth as he throws the cape back at him. He doesn’t want anything from Superman because when he receives something, it always comes like this. He thinks that despite his sins, he doesn’t deserve to be treated like some whore exploiting moral, righteous Superman. The fuck not.
Superman seems to have realized he messed up. That he ruined everything by letting his anger get the better of him. He steps closer, shaking his head slightly and raising his hands in a faint gesture of surrender. He’s upset because he thinks he has the right to know, but seeing Lex like this feels like a bucket of cold water.
“No, listen, Lex I didn’t mean—”
“You never mean anything. And you still do it.”
Lex looks so weak and tired that Clark’s chest aches with guilt. He focuses and hears the baby’s heartbeat, recognizing it immediately. Something inside him stirs—something like “affection” for that tiny being, as if he instinctively knows it’s his. Of course, he knows it is. He’s never felt such unease before and only wants to beg Lex for forgiveness. It was cruel to think their affair had some ulterior motive when it was Superman who hadn’t used protection.
Lex, for his part, just looks at him as if waiting for him to leave and let him rest.
“Lex, I don’t know how to react. This is the first time anything like this has ever happened to me. I’m sorry.”
“When two people have sex, this can happen. Bad luck it happened to us. Think—if it were some evil weapon, I wouldn’t even be here.”
And he’s right. Because if he were going to use it as an experiment, he’d be locked away in a lab, and with how closely he’d been monitored after the prison incident, some hint of it would’ve leaked by now. Since it’s just a health matter, it stays completely private.
Lex lets out a humorless laugh at the pathetic attempt at an apology and doesn’t even bother looking at him. He just wants to rest. He feels so miserable being lectured without even being asked how he feels.
“And for your information, I’m tired. Could you stop making my life miserable for, I don’t know—five minutes?”
Superman understands, and though he hesitates, he leaves the room with his head bowed. He doesn’t want to say more because he feels that if he does, he’ll break him. Damn it—Lex Luthor is right. At this point, even asking how he feels would be misplaced.
Lex lies on his side, searching for something to cover himself with. He refuses to use that stupid red cape and almost gets up to grab a blanket from the guest couch, but he still feels too weak, so he chooses to stay cold. He closes his eyes and swallows hard. His hands go to his belly, caressing it, and he thinks how awful it will be for his baby to have to endure two fathers like them. One so moral and perfect, and the other—well, Lex. He only hates himself more in silence. Hates himself so much that he feels emptied out, and he worries that if he keeps crying, the baby will come out with sad eyes or some defect. He forces himself to stop. To regain control.
The next morning, he wakes feeling better. Stronger. He knows it was Mercy who laid that soft blanket over him. He orders all his obligations to be canceled and realizes he has to take that warning from the baby seriously. He wants to take care of it. He wants to do something good, for once. The fear he felt while collapsing drives him to buy supplements and plan more nutritious, more substantial meals.
And with that feeling, he knows he must hurry with everything else as well. If the baby is growing faster, he needs to have things ready for its arrival.
How could he have been so careless? He pulls a tablet out of the drawer and starts searching for baby clothes from his favorite brands. Of course, he finds nothing suitable and knows he’ll have to look for specialties. He gets excited at the idea of designing clothes with pure cotton, researching what’s best for a baby’s skin. He finds a very expensive brand that grows its own cotton and spends the whole afternoon sketching little designs with the colors he wants—though most are white, because he doesn’t like the idea of artificial dyes. Lex smiles at how tiny baby clothes are. It feels almost like tenderness that they measure no more than thirty centimeters. He chooses tiny neutral-colored pants and gets excited at the idea of embroidering his baby’s initials in gold thread. It’s an odyssey, and he wonders how he’ll be able to protect something so small and fragile.
He moves on to the next thing—hand-knitted sweaters. He’s unsure what combinations to make, since he usually wears only dark colors. Though he thinks seeing his baby in black would be cute—and good for visual health. There are so many things he wants to buy that he does it without hesitation. His chest swells with a kind of emotion at being so in love with something he can’t even see yet.
His peace and excitement are interrupted once again by the father of his child. Superman carries a tray with the first meal and supplements he knows Lex needs. There’s something else in his hands—other jars that look like more medicine. Lex wonders how he even gets let in and thinks there’s no “no” Superman can’t get past.
“My robots helped with the medication. The doctor checked the contents and thinks it’s safe for you to take this. It’s special—for you and the baby, so both of you stay well.”
Lex almost ignores him. His mind is still on the clothes and all the money he has to spend, the closet he’ll build, and everything the nursery will need. God, he doesn’t know if he’ll have enough time for all he’s planned. Having a baby is busy enough, and being a single parent makes it harder.
“Leave it on the table.”
Superman does as told and looks like a scolded puppy. He doesn’t know what else to say, and Lex looks at him as if waiting for him to leave so he can go back to online shopping and eating in peace. But the big man doesn’t seem to want to leave, and Lex yawns to make it clear he’s still too tired to fight. He leans toward his feet and winces at the lingering pain.
Superman is quick and stronger—he won’t let him strain himself. He steps in to help, and though Lex resists, he knows it’s impossible. He’d learned that well enough when they’d had sex—Clark’s grip had left him with a couple of bruises.
Clark now massages his feet with care and tenderness, soothing the pain. Lex almost smiles when he sighs in relief, despite himself, and Clark doesn’t mention that his heir is already giving him pains worthy of Superman’s child.
“I know he’s growing faster. I can feel it. I can also hear his heart. He’s joyful, and he seems to get excited when he hears your voice, Lex.”
Lex wants to kick him. Of course the baby reacts he’s always talking, always reciting plans out loud, asking the baby’s opinion. Lex knows it’s simply early stimulation and that babies are more intelligent when spoken to from the womb.He does it for science. So his baby won’t be stupid.
“Lex, I think you should also know—the baby is… a boy.”
And that’s when fury rushes through him again. The stupid alien couldn’t help but ruin another moment. Lex might have planned to do things differently to wait until the very end, to love the baby without reason. He had imagined a girl, recalling the women around him and those he admired, shaping her to rule the world as a worthy heir. Whatever it was or chose to be, Lex already loved it.
Then he notices Superman’s stupid smile and doesn’t understand the joy. He shouldn’t be happy if he’s not going to be part of his life! Lex smiles ironically at the sight of his happiness and tries to pull his foot away.
“Oh, fuck you. Maybe I wanted to wait until the birth to find out. You can’t just run scans and ruin the surprise factor.”
Clark almost regrets it. He chuckles a little, noticing Lex is excited, and shields himself in case of a kick.
“I might be wrong, but… the baby wants you to know!”
Lex almost laughs. It’s absurd to think he’s telepathically talking to a fetus that isn’t even fully developed. But nothing makes sense with the Kryptonian, and at this point, Lex doesn’t know what might be true. He shifts in bed, realizing he has to have a serious talk with him.
He doesn’t want him near—not in his life or the baby’s. Not out of petty resentment, but because he’s thought about it countless nights. He knows Superman—the idol of the masses—has a reputation to protect. If people found out he fathered a child with Lex Luthor, he’d be finished. Few would believe in him, and the media hatred would all fall on Lex, because of course they’d think it was some stupid Luthor plan to take over the world, even though nothing could be further from the truth. He doesn’t care if they hate Superman, but Lex has fought hard for his peace in recent years, and he wants the same for his child.
“Listen, big boy. You don’t have to do this. The baby will have my last name, and obviously, I don’t need your money. So you don’t have to pretend you care, or that I’m doing this to hurt you. He just wanted to live, and he held on. He doesn’t have to suffer like I did. So you and I won’t be fighting, and it’s better if he doesn’t know you—so he won’t carry your burden.”
Superman’s expression is pained. He looks at Lex with compassion, and Lex mistakes it for pity. For a moment, he hates him for seeing him as weak.
“Lex, I don’t think he’d a bad thing…”
“I know. But we don’t need you, and you certainly don’t need this kind of media attention. I’ll never show the baby’s face until he chooses it himself, and no one will know he’s yours if it ever comes out that I have an heir. I can just say he’S adopted. And he won’t have to—”
Lex is struck by a wave of grief so deep it doesn’t feel like his own. Tears stream down his cheeks. He tries to stop them, but his chest aches, and he sobs harder. Even Clark is alarmed—everything seemed fine, and he leans closer, taking Lex’s hand, holding him tightly as Lex can’t stop crying.
“I’m not crying—it’s these stupid hormones and—”
Clark shakes his head. It’s the baby. Some kind of recognition. And he feels that if he pulls away, it will hurt them both. It’s his first child, and the bond with Lex now makes him realize he doesn’t have to go anywhere. He doesn’t have to resist. Any suspicion that this was some plot vanishes as he feels how sincere Lex is—Lex loves this baby.
So Lex just cries, frustrated because he feels he’s done it more in one week than in his entire life. It’s strange, and yet he comes to terms with it. He believes the life inside him has something to do with it, because he can’t help but feel protected in those warm arms.
They separate a little later, their faces dangerously close. Lex can almost taste his breath. Superman stays on his knees by the bed, tugging at the sleeve of Lex’s expensive sweater so he won’t leave and will look him in the eye.
“I want to be here, Lex. For the baby—and if you let me, for you too.”
Lex hesitates. No one has ever said that to him, and a couple of words won’t change their relationship. He wants to believe him, but he never believes anyone, not even the very symbol of righteousness himself. He sighs, thinking this couldn’t get worse, so he lets him believe it. He says nothing, just closes his eyes and stops crying. He knows it’s enough of an answer, and Superman understands—it’s a yes, in Luthor’s language.
———
Lex knows he should rest, but people’s incompetence forces him to fix problems even from his private island. He doesn’t have access to much work, but he does to his personal laptop. He finishes writing a few important things, sends them out, and his back aches terribly.
Two more months had passed, and he believed the child really wanted to come early. That’s why he traveled to a beach with a climate the baby seemed to enjoy—sunny, even though Lex couldn’t stand it, he endured it for him. He wasn’t working except for emergencies, spending the rest of his time buying baby clothes or waiting for the nursery items to arrive. He still had no idea how to set it up, so he researched which colors were best for a baby, what should be, and what shouldn’t. It was difficult cause’ everything seems to be colorful.
He still didn’t know what name to give him, but whenever he wanted to talk to him, he pressed his abdomen lightly to nudge him awake. It was funny how they communicated, and it made him smile. His son, not even born yet, shared his intelligence.
“Hey. When you inherit LexCorp, you’re have to pay attention to everything. You’ll need to be smarter than me, and obviously you already are more than your other father. You won’t let yourself get carried away by sentimentality, and the world will be yours. I wonder if you’ll have my blue eyes… I think it would be lovely if you do. Your other dad’s are a bit darker. I was a redhead. Did you know that?” Lex whispered as if someone might overhear and learn his secrets, the ones he occasionally shared with him. He felt the little being stir and knew he was listening. That calmed and delighted him. He knew everything was fine when he could feel him.
Later, Lex took a walk along the shore. He wanted his son to see and feel everything. But when he noticed the red cape walking toward him, Lex went rigid and instinctively covered his now five-month belly. He saw Superman carrying a basket and frowned, trying to figure out what was in it.
“I brought you some things and some desserts. If you’re craving something, I can get it and won’t take too long. There’s also something I need to tell you. I didn’t before because I didn’t want to upset you, but it can’t wait any longer.”
Lex knew he could have done that himself, but he spent so much time lost in thought or taking medicine and pills to soothe the bruises the baby left on him, that he simply forgot and lost the will for anything else. He wanted to know what Clark meant, so he sighed and motioned for him to follow, walking into the house with a grimace of pain.
“Well, talk. I’m listening.” He took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut until the stabbing passed.
“Again?” Clark referred to the bruise on his side. It was barely visible, but he knew that as time went on, there would be more. Lex was slim, and even though he was muscular and took care of himself, a baby with his strength was too much for a human body. Clark was so worried he spent days coming up with some sort of answer to that need. Not much could be done beyond easing the pain afterward. Lex simply had to stay strong.
“Oh, drop it already. He still has to stay in here for a while, and I am not precisely weak.”
“I didn’t mean you were, Lex. I just worry about you…”
“It’s fine. I’m ready. Drop the bomb.”
“The reporter from The Planet, the guy with the glasses and the oversized suit… Do you know him? He’s been involved in some reports for LexCorp…”
“Clark Kent? What does he have to do with anything important right now? I was having a nice walk, getting some sun because your son loves it.” He rolled his eyes. Lex didn’t, but he was a slave to whatever was good for the little person inside him.
“That’s me. Clark Kent is my civilian identity. I… I don’t want to start our relationship with secrets, and if I’m telling you now, it’s because I trust in you.”
Lex took a while to process it. He had so many questions and found it incredible that the human eye could be fooled so easily. He wanted to ask what kind of science he used, but a laugh escaped him. Of course! Interviewing himself. How had he not figured it out sooner?
“You… you’re actually smart!” He laughed again, shaking his head in disbelief and clicking his tongue. Still, he didn’t understand why Clark was telling him all of this if it didn’t make much difference in his life. Maybe to be seen in his human identity?
“What I mean is, I have adoptive parents, Lex. They raised me well and taught me Earth’s values on a farm in Smallville. They want to meet you. But more than anything, they want to be part of my only child’s life.”
There were so many confessions that Lex froze for a moment. Parents? Meeting him? He rubbed his temple and held up his hand to stop Clark for a second.
“We’re not a family, Clark. Still, I do think it’s important for the baby to have allies and people close to him. It wouldn’t hurt to have grandparents, since I can’t give him any. I suppose it’s fine if they want to meet him, I won’t object to the idea of him being loved.” He shrugged, thinking they must be good people if they had raised Superman himself. He even felt he should ask them for advice.
He didn’t include himself in the equation. Maybe he’d send an army to guard him and leave him in Superman’s hands, watching from another car to make sure nothing happened. But he didn’t know what kind of relationship he could maintain with Clark’s parents or why they would even want to meet him. Everything said about Lex was true, and nothing more. What he was, he kept to himself.
“Actually, the basket is from my Ma. She made gifts for the you, and that’s why I wanted to tell you.”
Lex took the basket and saw inside a neatly wrapped package with a small bouquet of flowers. There were desserts and cookies; everything looked so good. He unwrapped the package and found a handmade sweater. It was white with a little duck embroidered above a pocket barely big enough to hold a piece of candy. Baby pockets always made him laugh—what did they even need them for? He adored it so much his cheeks flushed red, worrying Clark. Lex thought of the affection poured into it, the time it took. He touched the fabric, so fine it rivaled expensive brands. It was so soft and tiny, it filled him with happiness, and he wondered if this was what something made with love looked like, even if you knew nothing about the person carrying your grandchild.
“It’s beautiful, Kent. Please tell her I appreciate it a lot. No, actually—I’ll send something back. It’s definitely something he’ll wear in his first days.”
Lex was so thrilled about having clothes already that he forgot one of the most important things, until Clark mentioned it.
“Do you have any idea what name…?”
“I’ve been calling him after fruits. Do you know, for his size.” Lex smiled. It was rare to see, and his handsome cheekbones made Clark swallow. He was really attractive. Superman liked him, not for nothing had they gotten involved. But the pregnancy had marked Lex’s cheeks, and somehow it made his eyes look more beautiful. Bright.
“I thought about it, and I like Conner. It’s the only one I have in mind.”
“Then Conner it is. His Kryptonian name would be Kon, you know?” Superman smiled, happy. He carefully sat down beside him, hesitant. He wanted so badly to touch him but didn’t know how Lex would react.
“May I? I read it’s good for them to feel their father’s hands. It’s just… I still can’t believe it.”
“Enough explanation, big guy. Just do it.” Lex seemed uninterested, but he had never allowed contact from anyone else. He opened the robe he was wearing and revealed just how pregnant he was. It was like some strange image of himself. He had never imagined like this, though it didn’t disgust him either. Superman’s hands covered his belly, and he stroked gently with his thumbs. Lex almost had to hold back a sigh when the baby began to move at his touch.
“Conner… I’m your dad. I can’t wait to meet you. But take your time—you need to be healthy, and don’t cause Lex too much trouble. Let him rest a little. You’ll love Earth. You’ll have people around you who already love you.”
“He really likes it when people talk to him. I think he’ll be very chatty.” Lex swallowed hard as Superman looked up to smile at him. The foolish alien was crying, and Lex almost regretted giving him permission.
“Oh, please. He moves at anything,” he lied. He didn’t know how to comfort Superman, who seemed truly moved. That was when he realized what they had done, how they would always be bound together for life, and the conflict that brought. Lex thought he could still run away and leave them. What did it matter? The child would have a full life. Maybe lonely, a little sad. And then he regretted the thought.
“You can still… leave. Because when he’s born, I’m afraid you won’t have the strength to.”
“No!” His voice echoed through the place. He calmed himself after the wave of panic and shook his head firmly as he took Lex’s hand. He was getting tired of Lex trying to push him away again.
“I’m not going anywhere, Lex. You’re my family now. Do you understand?”
Lex only sighed. Enough of running. He would never do anything to hurt Conner, so he simply let him stay. He even played with one of Clark’s curls and allowed him to lie down to listen to the baby’s heartbeat. He knew Superman wouldn’t always be around, that the two of them couldn’t truly be a family—but why not let himself believe in the sense of safety this great man radiated?
“I’ll protect you. Both of you. From absolutely everything.”
Superman knew Lex would be a good father. That he was gentle, and he was taking good care of Conner. He was inflexible and angry about everything, but he was being good. He was being good because he could understand Conner, and he could feel him happy.
“Conner is happy.”
“It scares me when you say things like that. But I also know what you mean. He makes some specific movement and…”
Lex groaned again. It was more than something simple; he knew something was pressing against his rib. The baby was a little beast, and he restrained it a bit, thinking it had been because of the excitement.
“Lex?” The dark-haired man leaned in closer, examining what it could be.
“I’m fine, Superman. I don’t see why you’re so worried. Your son isn’t killing me.” He smiled weakly. He was aware of the strength Conner had—his body couldn’t stretch any further, it had limits, and he felt Conner wouldn’t stay much longer inside. Both of them were doing the best they could.
“We have to do something about that pain, Lex. It could still be too soon to bring Conner into the world. He’d be a bit premature if you start feeling worse and your health is at risk.”
“And what do you suggest?” Lex knew he had tried everything. He was enduring it, even though his back was starting to feel another bruise. He breathed deeply, knowing he would need a lot of patience and some way to stay aware of the pain that was coming.
“Let’s go to my fortress. You’ll be safe there. With the robots and the care you need. With me.”
Lex hesitated. He knew the technology in that place. His best hospitals were also well-equipped, but they knew nothing about Kryptonian beings. And part of him was interested in that knowledge. His irrational side would say it was to defeat Superman, but in truth, he needed to know what Conner required to stay inside a little longer.
“I still want to stay here for a couple more days. I can grab my things, and I’ll have to pack Conner’s things too, if we’re planning… to stay there until he’s born.”
Clark’s eyes lit up. It was like a painting, and Lex knew he was handsome too. He blushed again and walked toward the bedroom, breaking away from Clark’s grip regretfully. He wouldn’t admit it, but he had liked feeling Clark so close. Superman kept caressing him, and Luthor had enough.