Clark debated his minor forever. It had to be useful; it had to be something that would look good combined with journalism on a resume; it had to be at least slightly interesting. He spent the first couple of years of college minor-shopping, trying and discarding classes in psychology ("I can't look my mother in the eye after taking this class") and Spanish ("You're reading _Don Quixote_ in the original language the second week? Clark, you might not want to tell your professor that.") The likeliest seemed to be Political Science, which at least gave Pete the chance to steal his notes half the time.

But one night sophomore year, not long after Clark and Lex began what Chloe called "dating" and Pete called "la la la, not listeninnnng," Clark looked up from his homework and asked a random question about the tax planning Lex was muttering over. One thing led to another led to a blow job on top of Lex's cash flow calculations.

No one batted an eye when Clark declared a business minor, although Clark himself reported a tendency to blush whenever the word "accrual" was mentioned. "Don't take Business Finance," Lex told him.

***

"Clark!" Lex said with some surprise as the door opened. "You're on time."

"I know, I know. Don't worry, I'm sure it'll never happen again."

Lex grinned. "I don't doubt it. Let me grab my coat and we can go. So how was school today?" he asked as he dug through his closet. Something leather would probably work; it was Clark's turn to choose the restaurant, and he was allergic to any place with a dress code.

"It was okay. We got an interesting assignment in Organization and Management today. I have to find someone who's started their own business and interview them about the entrepreneurial experience. Which should be perfect for me--hello, journalism major."

"And you have the perfect person to interview, too," Lex said, shrugging into his jacket.

"That's what I thought, too. I--" Clark's cell phone rang. "Hey, there's timing. Lana? Hi, how are you? Did you get my message? Yeah, I wanted to ask you some questions about starting the Talon."

Lex paused in mid-shrug. Lana? The Talon?

"I'm going to email her," Clark said, tucking the phone into his pocket. "This is great."

"Yeah. Lana's...definitely the person I'd have picked," Lex said. He gave Clark a slightly weak smile. "You know, I can probably even find her old business plan, the one you helped her with."

"That would be great." Clark beamed. Lex found his bewilderment dispersed with a very grateful--and very enthusiastic--kiss. "You're the best, Lex."

"Thanks. Thanks. Ah, did you decide where we're going?"

***

Clark got an A on Lana's profile. Lex smiled and nodded and resisted the urge to "accidentally" drop it from his penthouse window.

***

A few days later, Lex had gone through all his jacket pockets and both briefcases twice. No pens.

"Dammit, Clark..." he muttered, stalking down the hall. Clark had a tendency to grab whatever pen was near him when he was writing, which would have been just a charming quirk if he ever gave the damn things back.

While Clark still officially lived in the dorms, a room in the back had been appropriated for his use while he was "visiting." It was cluttered with library books, folders, and about a million pens. Lex rolled his eyes and grabbed a handful.

He was about to leave when he saw his name on a legal pad that had been dropped onto the chair. He looked around. Clark had probably just dropped it there and would be back in a second. On the other hand, it was Lex's penthouse, his chair, and no doubt his pen Clark had used to write his name.

"Oh, hell," he finally said, and picked it up.

***

Lex Luthor: A New Kind of Leader
by Clark J. Kent

Lex Luthor was only 22 when he started his own company. In the world of business, especially the high-pressure world of multinational business, business owners aren't 22 and running fertilizer plants. They're settled, seasoned, with years of experience and the power and influence of their parents behind them. No one, including Lionel Luthor, thought Lex had a chance of succeeding. And Lex knew it. He had the barest amount of start-up capital, a year's worth of management experience, and the enmity of LuthorCorp, which at the time ranked number 3 on the Fortune 500.

What he also had was a force of will not seen in most second-generation business owners, a determination to outdo everyone including his own father, and the conviction that only by serving his employees and his community could he create a business stockholders would want to invest in.

It was by no means an easy road. As the son of one of the most cutthroat CEOs in the world of business, Lex had to fight not only the community's perception of him as the second coming of his win-at-all-costs father, but his own training to maximize profits over all else, especially people. He made mistakes; he is the first to admit that compassionate leadership did not come easily. But he learned from those mistakes, and taught himself how to be the manager he wanted to be.

Barely five years later, LuthorCorp is long eaten up by hostile takeovers, the business community is starting to learn where dedication to the people around you can take a business, and the man who started it all heads the largest, fastest-growing, and most highly regarded company of its type in the industry.

Lex Luthor is more than the head of a profitable business. He's more than an entrepreneur. He's a man who has reinvented what it means to be a leader.

***

Lex looked up to see Clark standing in the doorway. "You stole my pen again."

Clark's gaze was fastened on the legal pad. "Are you mad at me?"

"For writing about me? Of course not. I--this--is this for another project?"

"No!" Clark's hands were jammed as far into the pockets of his jeans as they could go. "I just wrote it."

"I see." He didn't.

"Maybe someday when I'm a better writer--" Clark's eyes darted up to meet Lex's. "Maybe I can turn it into a real profile, or a book or something." He looked away again.

"There's nothing wrong with your writing," Lex said, feeling as though Clark was telling him something really, amazingly important and he just needed to figure out what it was.

"I just think people should know. That you're not what--that you're more than what everyone thinks you are."

Lex dropped the pad on the desk. "Clark. Clark." He tugged on Clark's hand until it came free from his pocket and laced their fingers together. "I don't need the world to know. You do." Thank God. "That's what matters."

***

Clark snored. It never failed to make Lex smile; the last son of Krypton, the secret savior of half of Metropolis, snored. It wasn't a delicate sound, either; he could feel it vibrate against the headboard as he leaned against it.

The snoring stopped as Clark turned over. Lex waited for it to start again, but instead he heard Clark's sleepy voice. "You're 'wake."

"Mm-hm. Go back to sleep."

"Why?"

"Because it's not time to get up yet."

"No, I meant..." Clark rubbed his eyes. "I meant, why're you awake?"

"Just thinking."

"No thinking." There was a grunt and a tug, and Lex found himself lying mostly underneath Clark. Who, he noted with amusement, still had his eyes closed. "Every time you think you end up doing something. Usually buying something."

"Are you still on my case about my last impulse buy?"

"It was a women's pro soccer team, not a pair of shoes."

"Yes, but the PR value alone, as they'll teach you in your business classes--" The rest was mumbled into Clark's mouth.

"You always do that," Lex said only a little breathlessly as Clark moved to his favorite spot, just behind Lex's ear. "Are you afraid I'll corrupt more business terms for you?"

"Maybe you're just unbearably sexy when you talk shop."

Lex struggled with the comforter blocking his unrestricted access to Clark's back. "I'm sure that's it."

"No, really."

"I should arrange for the school paper to cover my next board meeting, then."

"Oh, God." Clark's eyes were finally open, and they met Lex's with both amusement and arousal. "I'd be dead by the time you got through the first balance sheet."

Lex was absolutely certain he'd never laughed while kissing anyone until he kissed Clark.

He gave up on the comforter and sank his hands into Clark's hair, sinking all his attention and energy into kissing him.

Several long and wonderful minutes later, Clark raised his head. Lex ran his thumb along one impossibly beautiful cheekbone. "It's because of you," he said.

"What's because of me?"

"That I'm more."

"I--what?"

"Your profile."

Clark's eyes cleared a bit. "Oh." He laughed. "I'm not responsible for your business practices."

"No," Lex said. "But you're responsible for me."

"I'm not."

Lex kissed him. "You are," he said into Clark's mouth.

"Mmm. Well, it's mutual. I doubt I'd be the well-adjusted high-achieving business minor I am today without you."

"That's nice to hear," Lex said.

"So," Clark asked after a while, "are you done thinking?"

"Yeah."

"Good." Clark promptly snuggled his head into Lex's shoulder. "Because I'm tired."

Lex blinked up at the ceiling. "You want to sleep now?"

"Mm-hm."

He just laughed. "I never, never know what to expect from you."

"Good. G'night."

"Good night. High achieving?"

"Good night!"

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