Chapter Text
Clark Kent had an unusual talent for fading into the background. A skill he perfected from years of hiding super strength and heat-vision (no easy feat, mind you).
However, despite how unnoticeable he generally was, some people still noticed he disappeared whenever the famed Caped Kryptonian made his appearance.
With his coworkers being nosy reporters and inquisitive journalists, constant questions about his absence started to wear on Clark’s resolve.
The questions never relented, no matter how many half-baked excuses Clark came up with, and the quantity only grew the more Clark tried to absolve them. It was just like feeding a black hole.
Even the Man of Steel had a breaking point, and the break happened on a rather humid Tuesday morning in the Daily Planet’s small and homely lounge. Frustrated from the amount of inquiries he faced that morning, Clark, in a moment of pure stupidity, blurted out;
“I just hate the guy.”
The full table he was sitting at fell silent, and he ducked sheepishly under the other employee’s scrutiny.
“Why is that?” An intern asked, narrowing her hazelnut-brown eyes at him.
Nervous sweat began to bead under his collar. “Well… he once totaled my favorite restaurant.” He replied lamely.
“Oh come on Smallville. What’s the real reason?”
Clark felt his blood run cold as Lois Lane pranced into the lounge and leaned against one of the busted-up counters to smirk down at him.
He knew from firsthand experience that when Lois started asking questions, she wouldn’t stop until you’ve given up your deepest darkest secrets.
Now, don’t get him wrong; he loved Lois. But damn her and her insatiable curiosity.
“The real reason…” He blanked for a moment, scrambling to find a good enough answer to appease them. With nothing else to do in this moment of desperation, Clark just threw caution to the wind and winged it.
“It’s just, he’s way too powerful! I mean all that power in one person? Why should we trust this guy? Just because he helps people?” He scoffed to further sell his act. “He’s the reason Metropolis is in danger most of the time! People just aren’t as critical as they should be. And the suit? Ridiculous!”
Maybe he was laying it on a little too thick, but it seemed to satisfy everyone if their little nods of agreement were any indication.
“Maybe you should start hanging out with Lex Luthor,” Lois told him with a playfully judgmental quirk of an eyebrow.
Yeah, he was laying it on way too thick.
“Y’know…Maybe a critical thinkpiece about Superman is just the spice our papers need.” A coffee-stained man muttered over his yellowed mug.
“I don’t know, most of the city adores him. It might end up with us labeled as anti-Superman.” Said one helpful Lois.
“No no, think about it! It would show that we value and offer different views! We could gain more media attention from this- not to mention wealthy sponsors!” The man’s beady eyes glinted with excitement, making Clark’s skin crawl.
And to further his dismay, Lois seemed to agree with him. “It would appeal to a whole new crowd…”
The others sitting at the table all unanimously turned towards Clark, shark-like grins slowly spreading across their faces. Clark gulped nervously as he felt impending doom ascend upon him.
“Since you seem to have all the ideas, why don’t you write this article, Kent?” Lois asked, smiling at him with faux innocence.
“Uh- I don’t think-“ He began, only to be immediately cut off as Lane waved him off and began to trot out of the lobby to, no doubt, present the pitch to Mr. White.
“Great! Now get to it Critical Clark! I need a rough draft stat!”
He groaned and hid his face in his hands as Lois disappeared around the corner.
He was so screwed.
The Justice League will never let this down.
When Bruce told Gotham Nightly that he ‘couldn’t just wait for Batman to show up’ after he floored Scarecrow in a very public Gala event, the Justice League had a field day making him the butt of every single secret-identity joke.
Superman was one of the most active taunters.
Welp, it looks like karma has finally bit him in the butt.
“Uh, Clark?”
He dropped his hands from his face and looked up at the coffee-stained man who spoke.
“Are you going to start working on that paper? Or do we have to listen to Lois bitch at you?”
Clark felt his face flush in embarrassment. “U-uh, right!” He stammered as he quickly finished his tea and gathered up his papers before racing out of the lounge.
Rao, he was in trouble.
******
His article was a hit.
Not only did they gain a new sponsor, but the hivemind of the media was also buzzing with controversy, which naturally meant that the Daily Planet was basking in attention.
Clark would’ve been ecstatic about the thinkpiece’s success if he didn’t have to drag his alter-ego through the mud.
That wasn’t even half the issue. While writing the rough draft, Clark realized that he didn’t have a lot of legitimate points to put in his article. So, he unfortunately had to take inspiration from-
“Seriously, are you and Luthor friends or something?” Lois asked suspiciously from her perch on his desk.
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her and sighed. “Lois, I’ve only ever been around him while you and I were doing interviews with him. I swear!” That was only a half lie, at least.
“Yeah right. Maybe you sneak off and visit him in some secret underground lab to gossip over your mutual hate for Superman.” Lois snarked as she nudged him with a high-heeled foot.
“Oh yes, I definitely run off into the night to go talk to some egocentric billionaire in a basement about how much I hate a flying man in tights.” He shot back with a small smirk.
“Oh! Speaking of egocentric billionaires…” Lois started as she fumbled with her dress pants for a moment to pull her cellphone out of her pockets.
Clark squinted at the text on the screen as she handed the slim device to him.
“Luthor is hosting a party to talk about how smart and gifted he is, and White has selected me to go in for interviews because he knows I’m the only one around here who won’t kiss his hairless ass. Wanna come with?”
This time, Clark couldn’t resist rolling his eyes at her. Like he had a choice! Everyone knew that he only trailed along to prevent her from going ballistic on Luthor’s smug butt. Frankly, he highly doubted Perry gave her permission to go.
But even though the bald bastard deserved to get hammered by the press, the last thing the Daily Planet needed was another restraining order placed on one of their best reporters.
“Sure.” He said, shrugging as he skimmed over the information. Apparently, LexCorp had another breakthrough in their military experiments and they were hosting the ball to boost publicity. Hopefully, the breakthrough didn’t involve kryptonite or a mega bomb. Though, knowing Luthor, it probably did.
“Great! Just don’t wear flannel this time, or I’m leaving you tied to a lamppost outside.” The senior reporter threatened before hopping off his desk and walking off to gather her things.
Suddenly, a thought struck Clark; What if Bruce was there?
Oh Rao, what if Oliver was there?
There’s no doubt, with the attention his article was getting, that they’ve read it.
The last thing he needed was thinly veiled pokes and jests from Oliver and knowing looks from Bruce. But it was inevitable now.
Oh Rao, he was really, really screwed.
******
Dressed in a Lois-approved outfit (consisting of his cleanest blue shirt and black pants), she and Clark sat in Lois’s car as they browsed around the packed parking lot of Lexcorp’s tower for a good spot.
Thankfully, Lois managed to squeeze her car in between two knock-off Mercedes near the exit, much to her gloating satisfaction. Once the car was turned off the two reporters armed themselves with pens and pencils.
“Ready to mingle, Critical Clark?” She asked as she gathered up her pocket notebook and recorder.
“You know, I’m starting to miss the nickname Smallville,” Clark told her as he climbed out of the car to hide his grimace.
“Critical Clark is catchier. Now c’mon, let’s go interview these rich assholes before they get swarmed by lesser journalists.” She inclined her head towards the building and took off in a confident power walk, leaving Clark to trot just to catch up with her.
Inside the towering glass and steel building, minimalistic decor adorned the walls and made up most of what little furniture was present specifically for the event. The place was also packed to the brim with social elites, celebrities, and business associates, all dressed in sharp clothing, sparkling dresses, and fake smiles. Reporters and waiters dotted around the white-collared gathering, all high with the anticipation of a good scoop or a hearty tip.
“Ok, who do you want to interview first?” Lois asked just as they passed security, turning to look up at him as she readied her pens.
“Uh, I don’t know… How about-“
“I’m open for one.” A very familiar, low voice piped up from behind, making Clark nearly jump out of his skin.
Clark resisted the urge to bury himself under concrete as he slowly turned to look at the last person he’d rather see.
Standing in a crisp and obviously expensive suit stood Bruce, giving them his signature playboy smile that was specifically tailored to put everyone around him at ease.
For Clark though, it just made him want to turn tail and run in embarrassment.
“Well well well, if it isn’t Bruce Wayne,” Lois said, giving her ex a friendly smirk. “How’ve you been? It’s been a hot minute since we last saw each other.”
“I’ve been doing better,” Bruce replied with a casual shrug of his shoulders. “Still breaking hearts, Lois?”
“Not as often as you.” She quipped.
Bruce gave a genuine chuckle at her snarky tone and gave her a pat on the shoulder before turning to Clark. “I’ve read that article of yours, Clark. It seems that you and I have the same ideas about vigilantes.”
“Yeah, I guess we do!” He agreed with a little hysterical laugh.
“Oh! Look! There’s Mae Katlin! Clark, you give Bruce his interview- I’ll catch up with you later, thanks!” And there went Clark’s human shield, running off to pester the businesswoman about her heavily rumored connections to the rise in gang activity in the city limits.
With no small amount of effort, he turned around to face Bruce’s unimpressed stare.
“Before you say anything,” Clark started, “I just have to clarify that I was backed into a corner.”
Bruce offered him a small smirk before his expression morphed into that of determined concern. “I figured as much. I’m just worried. This article paints a target on your back. Being so openly critical of Superman can attract the wrong kind of attention. Especially from criminals or supervillains.”
Clark groaned and ran a hand down his face. “I know that! But what else was I supposed to do? Everyone at the Planet was pressuring me and Lois loved the idea of a critical thinkpiece… there was nothing I could do except go along!”
“You could’ve been…less cynical.” That damn smirk was back. Bruce was just making fun of him now.
Clark cringed. “Ok, look- I panicked! Mr. White wasn’t going to accept some shoddy critique, so I just had to be more condemning! Besides…” He shrugged, “This will misdirect attention from my identity.”
The billionaire gave him a look. “Clark, to me this is just more of an indicator of who you are.”
“Yeah well, what else was I supposed to do? Say no and have Lois and everyone else on my case?”
“Yes,” Bruce deadpanned. “They wouldn’t have thought much about it, Clark.”
“You didn’t see them Bruce! They looked about ready to eat my face off!”
“It doesn’t matter now. It’s done with. I’m just telling you to be c-“ Bruce immediately cut himself off when a thin hand placed itself on his shoulder. The billionaire's jaw clenched and his icy blue eyes flashed with immense irritation as a familiar bald head appeared in his peripheral vision and at that moment, Clark's blood ran cold.
“Now Wayne, stop harassing the poor man.” Luthor’s velvety and naturally condescending voice purred as he stepped around from behind the taller man to engage in an icy stare-down.
Clark tensed and took a step back from the two influential men as he tried to force his expression to become neutral in the face of sudden internal panic. How much had Luthor heard?
When the two businessmen finished their impromptu staring contest, Luthor smirked up at Bruce and finally slipped his hand from his shoulder before he spoke. “Run along, will you? I’m sure there’s some supermodels around that you can go bother.” He sneered.
Bruce gave Clark one last look and exchanged another heated glare with Luthor before he spun on his heel and stalked away, fists clenched at his sides and jaw set.
Clark inwardly gulped as Luthor finally turned around to look at him. But to his surprise, instead of receiving an arrogant scowl from the bald man, Luthor’s grey-colored gaze softened a little.
“Well if it isn’t Clark Kent. I’ve read your article, and I must say, I’m very impressed.”
“Mr. Luthor-“
“Please, call me Lex.”
Clark took a moment to blink in surprise before he forced himself to snap out of his shock and jump into action, readying his pocket notebook.
Luthor simply shook his head and held up a hand to stop him. “I’m not here for an interview, Clark.”
“Oh…” Clark stammered as he put his supplies away. “What can I do for you then, Mr. Lu- uh, Lex?” He asked, hoping to the Gods that he wasn’t about to get pumped full of kryptonite bullets or outed in front of a full building.
“Well, for starters, you can give me your number,” Luthor replied smoothly.
“My- my what?”
Clark stared at Luthor, completely flabbergasted. Was he… flirting with him? Or wait, was this for business?
“Your number. How else am I supposed to contact you and get to know you better?” The shorter of the two chuckled.
As if on autopilot, Clark wrote a set of numbers on his small notebook and tore out the paper to hand it to his arch-nemesis. He accepted it with a smile and a wink, and the billionaire placed the small strip of paper in his crisp dark-blue suit's breast pocket before sliding next to Clark close enough that their sides nearly pressed together.
“I’ll be seeing you around, then?” He hummed, giving Clark a bedroom-eyed once over. Clark gulped and hooked a finger around his shirt collar as his body grew uncomfortably hot.
“Uh, sure.” He answered dumbly, staring, shell-shocked, as Luthor gave him another wink and strode on by to rejoin the party.
Clark couldn’t hear the mild murmur of the party around him as static filled his head.
Did Lex Luthor just flirt with him?
And he just gave Lex Luthor his number.
He winked at him. Twice.
The fact made sparks rush up and down his spine, but he quickly squashed that.
Clark nearly leaped out of his skin when a hand insistently jostled his shoulder. He turned around to look down at Lois’s equally shell-shocked expression.
“What the hell was that?” Lois asked him, glancing at the bald billionaire before looking up at Clark again.
“I-I don’t know.” He replied, still set in a daze by the recent shocking events. “I think I just gave him my number?”
“God Clark!” Lois hissed as she shook his shoulder again. “Was he flirting with you?”
“I think so? I don’t know!” Clark repeated exasperatedly.
As he watched Luthor from across the floor, he realized with a shock that he was in it deep. The part-time villain could know who he is now, he could’ve listened in to Bruce and his conversation, or he could’ve just figured it out once he read the article. Rao knows he’s smart enough.
The universe just loves digging him graves, doesn’t it?