He loves their fresh faces and hard bodies. He loves their innocence, and he loves their experience. More specifically, he loves to be their experience. It's a small town, full of small minds, but he can always find a willing young man on the way up, or an awe-struck young lady with a dream.
He does not need the sun, nor does he seem to need his sons. He has not needed anyone since his wife was taken from him, but he can take anyone he wants. He won't admit to wanting anything but power.
He owns Metropolis, but it's a hollow purchase. Brick by concrete brick, his words and deeds close him in.
At the same time, he felt protective of the boy. He tried to teach him to buck up. Lex had too many fears, and they all manifested in his wheezing breath; an asthmatic child was a sign of weakness. Lionel was sick to death of that damned inhaler. He was tired of the pills on his wife's beside table, too.
Lionel was often amazed at his son's resiliency, though he'd never tell that to him. He did his best to keep Lex on his toes, to strengthen him even more.
Julian was dead. Any promise the infant had shown with what seemed a healthy birth was gone in the face of his inexplicable demise. Lillian could not be consoled.
Lucas took after his mother, as well, though he would never meet her.
Lex was his last, best hope. Damn.
Lex's interest in the Kent boy was not helping him work towards his potential. Scientific curiosity was one thing-Lionel would love to compare notes on that front. But Lex's obvious affection was far more dangerous.
Cultivating the Sullivan girl was the obvious solution to both problems. Unrequited love for Clark, plus her unstoppable yen for "the truth" would keep Clark busy, and out of the way.
Lionel couldn't see that Lex loved Helen at all. He put on a good show, followed the rules of engagement (so to speak), but there was no spark there. Helen could have been any suitable girl.
For her part, Helen was passionate about Lex. Passionate about figuring out what made him tick, about his Clark-centric research room. A shrine and a laboratory, and Helen wanted the answers science could bring.
Pain and loss make his son strong.
In the meantime, there's a young girl waiting in the parlor. Like clockwork, Chloe has appeared, ready to take him up on his offer. She's here to eviscerate Clark, and Lionel is happy to help.
He looks down at her breasts, lush under an ugly blouse, too revealing for a girl her age. She's ripe for corruption, and he's just the one to open her. He's already started; calling in the favor at The Daily Planet was nothing. In a very little while, she's going to owe him everything. Lionel is damn well going to enjoy collecting.
Clark does an awful job of running away. Lex disappeared better at thirteen.
When Lionel appears at the no star motel he's sleeping in, a disheveled Clark makes no protest, and follows him out to the limo.
Lionel laughs when Clark tells him "I can destroy you." Whatever Clark is, anyone can see the kid's the one who's broken.
He eats what the servants put in front of him and answers Lionel's questions without protest, but without giving him any real information.
When he offers Clark to Chloe, she says, "I want him, but not like this. What the hell did you do to him?"
"Nothing, Chloe," Clark says, tiredly. "I'm the one who fucks everything up."
Lionel leaves them to it. He needs to order flowers for Martha. After all, he understands what it's like when the wrong child survives.