Best friends don't steal their friend's girls. Or have an unrequited love for a best friend in love with another best friend. And Pete Ross, was a best friend. As in, the best friend, considering what he did for Clark. All the fucking time.
He wasn't even thinking about putting up with Lex Luthor, or keeping Clark's secret.
No, there were other things in the world that mattered far more. Like the softness of Chloe's hair that he didn't remember stroking. Like the number of days Clark had to be driven somewhere during their lunch hour, places that just happened to include Lex. Pete was always in the driver's seat. Driving Clark and Chloe who were in the backseat, making out. (He didn't actually remember this either, but Clark had hinted at it, and he knew what Chloe would do to Clark given the chance. It was a good thing he didn't remember, judging by the buttons strewn on a couch in the Talon that were obviously from Clark's shirt.) Driving Clark to Lex's mansion. When had he resigned himself to this? Fuck."Clark, man..."
"Yeah Pete?" Anxious green eyes, huge and round, and he didn't want to know what Clark'd been thinking.
"You should tell Chloe."
"Tell her what, Pete?" Was Clark's voice straining the way it used to when lying about his powers?
"About this," Pete waved toward the view of the mansion, "and why you're here."
"I want her to be happy." Clark's mouth was downturned, looking for all the world like he and Pete were still five.
"Then be a friend, give her a chance to get over it. Make room for somebody else." Clark blinked and looked away. Nodding slowly, once.
"I didn't know Pete. I'll tell her, I promise."
Good, that was settled, then. Pete actually smiled as he let Clark out at the front and drove away.