#lex.

god, what A Way to find out that lana has gay moms now (i love comics)

Still not quite feeling well enough to stand up, he coughs out an answer to Lex’s question from his hands and knees. “Well,” he replies with a sheepish smile, “We might be friends again but everyone else is hesitant to trust you. I was hoping to convince them that you are trustworthy by proving you don’t have any kryptonite hidden anywhere but in doing so I discovered -- and the hard way at that --that Batman has some kryptonite disguised as cologne.

“I know it is his because he made his own bottle and it has the bat symbol on it. Anyway, he must have made the bottle so it senses his fingerprint because when it scanned my fingerprint, it would spray but I couldn’t turn it off.”

And that’s how he found himself inhaling a whole bottle’s worth of Kryptonite which has lead to him taking on the near collapsed position he’s currently in. “You know, when he said he hid it somewhere safe, I didn’t expect for it to be in plain sight...”

-- Lex looks around before kneeling down in front of Clark. It’s not steady, perched up on the balls of his feet, balanced on a hand. Because, of course anyone walking down those too-wide too-blank Watchtower halls is going to think he’s done this. Might need to bolt any second. Even if Superman came to bat for him again, they’d say something. They’d always say something, these heroes and their unattainable goalposts. (Sometimes it felt like they didn’t even want Lex to try.)

He studies Clark’s eyes and fingernails, noting the level of kryptonite poisoning and comparing it to previous experiments he’d run in the field. (experiments in the field, that was one way to put it) Aspiration was probably the worst way to get it but at least Clark was still talking. That meant he was mostly okay, right?

Right, Clark was talking. Lex blinks, replaying the conversation in his head quickly. “You were looking for... Superman, I appreciate the help. Really. But I can defend myself without you. Done it for years before I joined the League.”

It’s a lie, he loves having someone there to support him. Someone caring about him feels nice, something he hasn’t had in decades. Having Clark at his side again, helping him through this upheaval in his life, is helping him want to change.

“Stupid hick.” Lex sighs. “I almost wish you’d found my mineral samples. They wouldn’t have done this. But Batman’s allowed to keep-- it’s Batman, of course he--” He bites off the rant with a small frown and a loud huff. Not the time or place. “Sorry.” He’s not though, because Batman is allowed to do this to his best friend and-- well, that way lies madness so he shoves it down deep.

He puts a hand on Clark’s cheek. The gesture is (mostly) clinical, keeping an eye on the color of Clark’s sclera. He reaches a hand out to (attempt) to help Superman to his feet. “Do you want me to... get someone to help you?” He doesn’t offer to do it himself despite his terrifying amount of expertise in the field of kryptonite positioning. He’s pretty sure Clark would turn him down. Even if they’re friends, he’s still Luthor. And while Lex knows that, he doesn’t want to reminder right now. Not when his friend is hurt.