title: long after midnight
author: jessica
mail: thegirlinglasses@illuminatedtext.com
date: february 06, 2003
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"What time is it?"
Sitting up in the kitchen in pyjamas and with a cup of coffee, Lex thinks he's only a pipe away from stereotype. Nicholas stands, caught in the doorway, himself a stereotype with his baseball hat and pierced lip.
"I don't know," he answers, words Lex doesn't want to hear anymore.
"You're a smart kid. Look at a clock, Nicky."
He flinches at the name. "Don't."
"Sorry."
Lex is still getting used to it. Nicholas was Nicky until he was thirteen. Then high school and when the new teachers called him Nicholas Luthor at roll call, he didn't bother to correct them. He came home Nick and Lex hadn't been allowed to call him Nicky since. Clark can get away with it at times like these. Nicholas had always been more Lex than anyone else and Clark had spent twenty years dealing with the Luthors.
"Where were you?" Lex asks carefully.
"Out." He's rummaging in the fridge now, throwing back the milk straight from the jug. Lex doesn't have the strength to say anything.
"Okay." Lex gets up. "You're okay?"
"Pop, I'm fine. You know I'm fine. I was just out with my friends."
"I want a call next time."
"Okay," Nicholas agrees. Lex holds him with a stare. Exasperated, Nicholas says again, "Okay."
"Alright, time for bed."
Nicholas rolls his eyes, but leads them up the stairs. He stops outside his door, but doesn't look up when he speaks.
"I'm sorry I was late, Pop. But you knew where I was. I don't understand."
"I can't be worried about my son?"
"You're not usually. You're not the one I see after midnight," Nicholas says with a bit of a smile. "Dad waits up for me, you wait up for Dad." Lex nods, "How long has he been gone?"
"Long."
"Do you want..." Nicholas stops, pulling his hat off and combing viciously through his messy curls. "I'm gonna take a shower. Why don't you make us some more coffee?"
Lex meets his son's eyes, before returning to his watch downstairs. He listens to the house, to the shower running upstairs, the clock ticking, and his own breaths, in and out. When Lex sits up these quiet nights, he listens to the city also, for the sounds that tell him when Clark will be home. He doesn't hear them.
"I never thought you didn't love me enough. Because you didn't wait up," Nicholas explains, walking into the kitchen. Dressed in flannel pyjamas, he's younger than when Lex first saw him tonight. "You don't have to wait up to prove you love me."
"I do worry, Nick. A sixteen year old in Metropolis. You think you know everything."
Nicholas joins him at the counter, coffee in hand. Lex passes him the sugar and they share the spoon on the counter.
"But I trust you," Lex tells him. "We decided a long time ago that your Dad would be the one waiting up nights. You get the worrying he does for an entire city, you don't need me too."
"So, what are you doing up?"
"I can't help it. The most powerful being on Earth, but to me..."
Lex takes a deep breath, but he can't finish the sentence. His coffee sits untouched on the counter, and Lex picks up the spoon, stirring sugar already dissolved.
"When I was a kid," Nicholas begins slowly, "I remember sitting at the top of the stairs, waiting for Dad to come home. I used to think he was the coolest guy - the Man of Steel, watching over Metropolis. I never understood what you had to do just to keep him going. Superman wouldn't be the same without Lex Luthor, would he?"
They don't say anything more that night. Clark doesn't even blink when he gets home to the two of them in the kitchen, waiting for him, together. This is supposed to be Nicholas' rebellious phase, but, like Clark, he's always had some trouble with that.
He says good night. With a quiet grumble he lets Clark kiss his forehead. Then he turns to Lex.
"Good night, Nick."
"I think--" A duck of his red-haired head; the Kent and the Luthor both shining through. "Nicky's okay, Pop."