He had been made to hurt Superman. That was the entire purpose of his existence. Cadmus had cloned him to replace him, to be a Superman they controlled, but Luthor had sneaked his...his poison in - his DNA, the code words - to try to control him, to take control of his purpose.
When it turned out Superman was still alive, Luthor had taken it on himself to decide why Kon existed, that it'd be to cause Superman pain, and - ostensibly - to kill him in the end.
She was right that seeing that through, acting out that purpose, even on a different, evil Superman was probably the worst thing for him. She was right about a lot of things. Kon wanted to believe she was right about all of them. He wanted to.
Even with not being sure of that, one thing he was sure of, as he looked at her face, still cradling her head in his hands, was that he was desperately, madly in love with her for trying to convince him. For being willing to take something like that on so he didn't have to, if it all became just that desperate.
All because she didn't want him to have to be desperate again, lost again, forced to be something other than himself again. And that was borne of so much love, he knew, for the person he was when he was himself.
They had kissed many different ways, as couples did. Gentle kisses, passionate kisses, furious kisses (those times that arguing devolved into something else), desperate, hungry kisses.
But they were young. Their relationship was still a growing thing, working its way out of the awkwardness of youth, building up and evolving as they got older. By their very nature, the feelings they'd had for each other had started as the feelings a teenage boy and a teenage girl had for each other. And as they got older and as they both grew up, that...was changing. That was changing into the love of a grown man and grown woman, the kind of love where certain things like "we'll stand against the world together" were silently assumed, like some kind of universal truth.
And just like they found new ways to feel about each other, it mean they found new ways to kiss each other all the time.
Kon had never kissed her this way before, even at his most passionate, even at his most wild. He kissed her like a man possessed. He kissed her like a man who was starting to discover that the love he felt for the women he loved ran deeper than he could've ever imagined. Every day, he plunged further down, and every day he found himself hoping he'd never come back up for air. He wanted to drown in it.
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When it turned out Superman was still alive, Luthor had taken it on himself to decide why Kon existed, that it'd be to cause Superman pain, and - ostensibly - to kill him in the end.
She was right that seeing that through, acting out that purpose, even on a different, evil Superman was probably the worst thing for him. She was right about a lot of things. Kon wanted to believe she was right about all of them. He wanted to.
Even with not being sure of that, one thing he was sure of, as he looked at her face, still cradling her head in his hands, was that he was desperately, madly in love with her for trying to convince him. For being willing to take something like that on so he didn't have to, if it all became just that desperate.
All because she didn't want him to have to be desperate again, lost again, forced to be something other than himself again. And that was borne of so much love, he knew, for the person he was when he was himself.
They had kissed many different ways, as couples did. Gentle kisses, passionate kisses, furious kisses (those times that arguing devolved into something else), desperate, hungry kisses.
But they were young. Their relationship was still a growing thing, working its way out of the awkwardness of youth, building up and evolving as they got older. By their very nature, the feelings they'd had for each other had started as the feelings a teenage boy and a teenage girl had for each other. And as they got older and as they both grew up, that...was changing. That was changing into the love of a grown man and grown woman, the kind of love where certain things like "we'll stand against the world together" were silently assumed, like some kind of universal truth.
And just like they found new ways to feel about each other, it mean they found new ways to kiss each other all the time.
Kon had never kissed her this way before, even at his most passionate, even at his most wild. He kissed her like a man possessed. He kissed her like a man who was starting to discover that the love he felt for the women he loved ran deeper than he could've ever imagined. Every day, he plunged further down, and every day he found himself hoping he'd never come back up for air. He wanted to drown in it.