Author: Jas Masson
Title: Copy
Rating: R
Feedback: jasmasson@yahoo.com
A/N: For the ClexFest Wave V - Futurefic

COPY

Lex's body hits the wall with a satisfying thump, and he goes down.  He grins up at Clark with that coldly satisfied grin he gets when he knows he's got to Superman.  His grin is bloody, where he bit his lip on impact and his white teeth are rimmed with red, his bottom lip already swelling.

Clark can smell his blood and hear his heart beating.  In spite of it all, Lex's heartbeat hasn't increased at all.  This makes Clark irrationally angry.

He grabs Lex by the lapels of his suit and holds him off the ground.  *Let's hear it for Saville Row*, he thinks grimly, wondering how much it costs to get a suit that will take this kind of punishment and still look good.

Lex isn't sweating, and his suit doesn't wrinkle.  Instead, Lex sucks on his bloody lower lip, looking Clark deliberately in the eyes as he does.  Lex knows where the cracks are and delights in pressing his elegant, malicious fingers in, forcing the edges, deepening the fissure.  Clark feels the bone deep spark of hatred and heat and drops him forcefully, viciously glad that even Lex Luthor can stumble.

Lex's hand smoothes down the front of his suit - unnecessarily - and Clark watches that caress with bitter intensity.

"They could have *died*, Luthor," he spits at him, fury still pounding through him, feeling good, taking the worst edge off.

"They still might," Lex returns coolly.  "Just not this time."

Blissful anger pounds through him at that, surging with the memory of his mom's light red hair matted with crimson red blood, and his father's shaking hands.

He thinks of the clone, the creeping horror of an exact copy of himself, who had lured his parents into Lex's clutches.  The clone is dead - or what passes for dead with them - but when Clark was fighting him he smelt something, he smelt Lex on him, stronger than he ever had on anyone except Lois, in that brief confusing time when those two were dating.  He smelt Lex on the clone who looked at him with his own wide, innocent eyes as he strangled him, and wondered.

His hands are on Lex again, lifting him up, pushing against the wall, revelling in the stifled gasp as his back hits the wall again, aggravating ribs Clark knows are already broken.

He presses on Lex's neck, cutting of the air.

"I should kill you," he says.  A quiet statement of fact.  He should. He knows it.  *Lex* knows it.

Lex grins again, using a last precious gasp of air to say defiantly, "Right."

Clark pushes a little harder, and Lex does start to sweat now and his heart rate finally increases.  Lex is only human - mostly human, sort of human, an approximation of a human - after all, and even if Lex is too proud, his body will struggle to live.

He should kill him.  He should be able to.  After all, he killed himself today.  He should be able to kill Lex.  If he can kill something with his own face, surely he shouldn't not be able to do this simply because he looks at him with those icy, mocking eyes.

Lex's face is flushed now and he's gasping involuntarily as his muscles strain in natural reaction.  Even so his eyes are daring, defiant, and he knows that Lex would think it a kind of victory if he managed to goad Superman into killing him.

It's that, of course, that convinces him to let go, not the sight of Lex's parted lips, the thud of his heart, the smell of him, or the press of Clark's inhuman strength against his soft, vulnerable belly.

Lex's mouth twists grimly as he pants inelegantly for air on hands and knees. He knows Superman won't kill him today.

"Are you sure?" he taunts, getting to his feet.  "Think of all the things I might do.  Think of all the things I *will* do."  Lex's arms tremble almost imperceptibly with the effort of pushing himself up, but he does it.  He stands straight in front of Clark in his still immaculate suit, and no one else would have noticed the slight sway on his feet at first.

Clark flinches at the truth of that, but doesn't let it show.  "I'll stop you", he states.  Another fact.  A hard fact.

Lex shrugs, looking Clark mockingly in the eye.

"Think of the technology, Superman," he says, "Think what I could do.  I cloned you; think about cloned Presidents, cloned Security Chiefs.  I could clone anybody.  *Anybody*."  He grin is ironically knowing as he looks at Clark.

Clark has thought about it.  A lot.  Has had a lot of time to think about it, and had thought about it every day.  The cloning technology was developed by Lionel Luthor years ago, and Clark only wonders why Lex hasn't used it before now.

Lex has maybe seen the look in Clark's eyes, and moves in for the kill.

"Perhaps I'll clone the lovely Ms Lane.  No one would know the real from the fake.  The only question would be which one to keep.  Should I keep the clone or keep her?  I *do* like it when they struggle," he mused, watching Clark maliciously.  "It's better when they fight, don't you think?"

He grins again as Clark fights to rein in his temper, and then says with un-Lexian crudity.

"I'd like to fuck her while she screams.  But in pain or pleasure?  What do you think?  It's so hard to know what you want most isn't it, *Superman*?  Which you *really* want."

Clark has heard enough.  Too much.  He flies off, even if it gives Lex the victory of the last word, nothing but a flash of bright, obnoxious red and blue.

***

"Busy day?"

Clark collapses on the couch.  His body doesn't get weary.

"Yeah."

He accepts a brief brush of lips on his cheek, but when Lex moves away he grabs his wrist and pulls him back.

"Killed myself, fought with you.  Same old, same old."  His voice isn't as light as he would like.

Lex laughs gently.  "Tough life being the hero.  More fun to be the villain."

Lionel developed the technology years ago, and it was Lionel who made the clone - a fact Clark clings to.  And it's perfect.  Almost perfect.  A few discrepancies.  The same base genetic material, but with different experiences, impulses and desires imposed. 

Lex kisses up Clark's neck, and Clark breathes in Lex's scent, which he once called unique.  He runs his fingers deliberately over Lex's chest, feeling each perfect rib and kisses his soft, unbloodied lips.

The clone is close to real, so very close, that sometimes even Clark forgets which one is which.

Clark takes Lex to bed and fucks him until he screams.