Angst, First Time, Romance
I couldn't handle owning these two.
NOTES: Love to my betas: dana, karen, janet and ilexa - you guys rock! Thanks
for all the support and encouragement, guys. xoxox
The backstory of Bruce Wayne and Lex Luthor.
Part Two Part
Three Part Four Part Five
White frosted the gray stone building,
muffling the echoing voices in the courtyard as Lex crunched through the new
snow. It was dark, but the yellow glow filtering out through the windows of
the dormitory provided enough light to see by, not that there was anything much
to see this time of night. Hands tucked into his pockets, skin tight with the
chill in the air, he missed the wool he routinely denied needing.
His breath puffed small misty clouds as he strode
past the stone tables that would come alive with his peers and their lame preoccupations
when the season changed. He'd never joined in, never been asked. Never bothered
to care, either.
His bald pate gave them all something to stare
at, and even the ones who made an effort still stole too-long glances at it,
like the mysterious story of how it came to be was written in fine print on
the pores of his scalp.
He didn't care, though, let them stare. They
couldn't possibly look at it as much as he had. Besides, they accepted him on
the surface, enthusiastically taking advantage of his more questionable connections
in the outside world.
At any given time and for the right price, he
could have two cartons of cigarettes and a bottle of whatever alcohol he willed
at the north wall, just beyond the big oak. The first round was always on the
house, a sales tact that had made him very wealthy and very popular in itself.
Even after last semester's close call with the
dean of liberal arts, Lex maintained the business, although at a more discreet
level than he had before.
Unfortunately, keeping things close to his chest
meant no more daytime pickups. Hence, his excursion tonight, trudging through
snow and risking another curfew violation on his record.
Fortunately the headmaster had found an equally
odd man out for his roommate when Lex's father had suddenly insisted that he
not be treated any different than the other boys. Lionel had apparently demanded
that Lex share his quarters and meals with other students, among other lesser
tortures. Once again, his father had been inspired by some random word or event
and Lex was being taught another obscure lesson that he was sure someday he'd
see the point of.
No clues as to what it might be yet, not from
father or headmaster or roommate.
He didn't mind very much, as long as he could
keep up the modicum of social interaction and meaningless conversation. There
was nothing worse than wasting time on a person who was giving him nothing in
return. He'd learned *that* lesson on his own, his first semester here.
Bruce didn't threaten to impose though, and
it looked like he agreeably ignored Lex's little entrepreneurship, meaning Lex
could keep it up a while longer, until he'd saved enough to buy a car and get
the hell out of Dodge.
Hell, he might even escape this place friendless,
if Bruce Wayne's propensity for brooding silence kept up.
As far as cohabitants were concerned, Bruce
was actually almost enjoyable. He had interesting quirks, like the fact that
he sharpened every one of his pencils every other night, and folded his dirty
laundry so well Lex never had a clue as to which stack was clean and which stack
was meant for the laundress.
The fastidious behaviors struck Lex as endearing
rather than obsessive. The gentle childhood habits instilled in Bruce's daily
routine by a well-born mother, perhaps.
Bruce was clean, organized, mannered. His occasional
huffing in frustration over some assignment wasn't as annoying as it had been
at first. He didn't intrude on Lex's space or touch Lex's things.
Once, he'd raised his eyebrows and offered Lex
a bottle of water.
Lex matched his gesture with a flask of brandy
and been shocked that Bruce had taken it, lips touching gently to the mouth,
and tilted his head back, neck stretching and moving slowly with long swallows.
The flask was a lot lighter when he'd handed it back to Lex, and Lex had sprawled
back on his twin bed, whipped off his tie and watched Bruce sharpen his pencils.
The door of their building closed with a solid
thunk behind him and he took the steps two at a time, anxious to be in the safe
darkness behind the solid door of their room.
He soft-stepped across the wood flooring of
the hallway, turning the doorknob slowly and leaning against it to muffle the
sound of the latch opening. He slipped in and closed it just as carefully as
he had opened it, ears wide open and listening for footsteps outside the door.
Turning, he jumped a foot in the air and hissed
a curse. "Fuck, Bruce! You scared the shit out of me."
Bruce sat silhouetted against the blue-gray
glow of the sky outside their window, the corner of his twin bed dipping low
under his weight. His head fell forward and Lex walked wide of him, setting
his latest stash on their desk.
Big hands were clasped together between spread
legs, knuckles against forehead, like Bruce was praying.
Lex leaned against the desk, wishing the north
wall was 50 yards further away than it was so he would have come in after whatever
this was had ended.
As it was, the silence made his skin crawl.
He shifted his weight, tucked his hands in his pockets, crossed his ankles.
Bruce didn't move.
Another minute ticked off on the clock above
their desk and Lex licked his lips, shrugged. "Still up, huh?"
Sixty clicks and Lex sighed and moved to crouch
on the floor next to Bruce, who jerked away like he hadn't noticed Lex until
then. "Listen, Bruce. I know you're not… hell, I don't really know anything
I guess. But I'm not tired either."
Lex faltered, stood up and went to his backpack,
pulling out the new bottle of tequila and a lime. He tossed the lime at Bruce
and a quick hand closed over it with a smack.
"Ever done shots?"
The lime lobbed back to him and he caught it,
shrugged and set the bottle down.
"Okay. Well, I only drink alone on birthdays
and Christmas, so fuck that."
When Bruce's black eyes left him for a spot
on the floor, Lex stepped on a chair and pushed a ceiling tile up out of its
frame, sliding bottle and citrus above it. In two years no one had ever thought
to look there during routine and a few not-so-routine room checks.
He yawned behind a fist and turned his back
to Bruce's unseeing eyes, pulling his shirt and pants off, tossing his socks
into the corner along with his shoes. His boxers left him chilled and he climbed
into bed, huddling under his covers and folding his pillow under his head. Peeking
out behind almost-closed lids, he saw Bruce's face. A study in deep shadows
and the frozen glow of snow-light from outside.
Reaching back over his head, Lex gripped the
headboard with his fingertips and stretched, working the tightness in his chest
out in slow, deep breaths. He relaxed under the warmth of his blankets, and
tried to ignore the pull of guilt when he rolled over, turning his back on his
statuesque, silent roommate.
Panting, running hard through the snow, Lex reached up to wipe his brow. Sweat
dripped down his temples and he gasped on every sharp breath, lungs constricting
and expanding painfully as he gulped in air. His feet were moving, but he was
stationary. All he could see was white and the gray sky above spitting snowflakes
the size of quarters.
He jerked awake, propped on his elbows and ears
prickling with the sound of Bruce's quiet desperation. Whispered half-words,
hints of pleasure lacing through the pained moans and keening, needy noises.
Lex lowered himself slowly down again, turning
his head as soundlessly as he could to look. Blinking, he saw Bruce's profile
highlighted in pale gray, face shining with sweat, mouth open and lips pulled
back, sucking in air in through teeth that glinted white in the dim light.
Under the covers, Bruce's hand moved rhythmically,
hips pumping up, the blanket tenting and sinking again and again, fast, in time
with every stroke. Lex licked his lips and held his breath, his hand sliding
from his side and tucking under his own covers.
He was hard, aching and slick with instant,
surprised arousal. Across the room, the soft sound of fabric on flesh quickened
and Lex's hand closed on his own length, elastic of his boxers digging into
his wrist. The bed creaked beneath the shallow thrusting of his hips and Bruce's
Eyes narrowing, locked on his, Bruce stared
over at him. For a split second, Lex thought he'd sink into the mattress, but
Bruce took a deep breath and turned his head back to the ceiling, licking his
lips. He glanced hesitantly at Lex, then looked away again.
Lex hooked his foot in his bedding and kicked
hard, the rush of cool air on his flushed skin so good. He looked over at Bruce
again and saw him watching, one hand fisting the edge of his blanket, lifting
it slowly. Lex steeled himself and pushed the last of his inhibitions aside,
peeling out of his boxers and tossing them to the floor.
Bruce's blankets slid from the foot of his bed.
"Fuck, yes…" whispered hard, slicing
through the air and when Lex dared another glance, Bruce's eyes were squeezed
closed, hand slowly jacking his thick length again.
Bruce changed completely, mouth moving more
than Lex had ever seen it move. He was larger than life, breathtaking with a
subtle nobility Lex had never noticed before, tan skin almost glowing at the
crest of every muscle, the head of his cock peeking out of the top of his big
fist on every downstroke.
Breath eluded him and Lex didn't care, didn't
mind the rush a lack of oxygen could bring. Not one bit. Not naked, thrusting
into his moist palm and watching Bruce fuck his own fist like he was alone,
like Lex wasn't trying desperately to match his strokes, to imagine the taste
of the line of hair trailing down to the center of Bruce's attention.
Lex pumped his cock in smooth motions, keeping
his rhythm ragged and varying the pressure because he was nervous, fuck, jacking
off in full view of another guy and *nervous* about coming.
His tongue licked out and tasted the salt on
his upper lip and he wanted *more*, wanted to touch Bruce and know what he felt
like, what he smelled like. God, wanted to feel those hands on his body instead
of his own.
A low grown drew Lex's attention and he stared
over at Bruce. Across the room, miles away, slim hips rocked hard, ass clenching
at the top of every thrust, lifting completely off the bed now with a determination
that made Lex tighten inside, muscles flexed and coiled in anticipation.
Body arching up in the air, hand sliding impossibly
fast, Bruce grabbed for his pillow and pushed it over his face, his pained cry
of release loud and violent even under four inches of thick down and cotton.
Lex's body reacted, cock flexing in his stunned,
motionless fist, pleading with him and he didn't hesitate, mind racing at the
thought of Bruce watching him like that, those dark eyes open, seeing him fucking
himself, bringing himself off like he always did.
And fuck, *yes*, his left middle finger was
in his mouth before he realized it, tongue knowing the routine and automatically
swirling around it, slicking it and pushing it out, hand moving down and underneath
to tease his hole. The nail scraped his fragile skin and he sucked in air, shut
his eyes as Bruce shifted on his bed and made a quiet, surprised sound.
He could do this, could get off on Bruce knowing
that he was this dirty. Knowing that he liked… this. Finger slipping inside,
he groaned and tilted his head back, pushing it into his pillow, scalp brushing
the headboard as he moved and moved, hips rolling and finger twisting, hand
twisting, cock full and aching.
He rolled onto his side and opened his eyes,
biting down on a shocked cry at the sight of Bruce's smooth chest right *there*.
So close, every inch of Bruce within reach beside his bed, kneeling down, leaning
in, and Lex didn't know whether to laugh or cry or cream when Bruce's hand covered
his own, stroking his cock with him.
Light flashed behind his eyes and he closed
them, opened them again fast and saw Bruce's face, calm and beautiful, moving
closer to his own. The hand on his tightened and Bruce's slick fingers slipped
between his, thick and strong. Lips brushed his collar bone and Lex shuddered,
body too alive with every sensation. He needed the pain to ground himself, sank
his finger in as far as he could reach and ground his ass down into the mattress,
pressing deep inside himself, finger hooking sharply.
Bruce closed in, licking his lips, glancing
down at Lex's cock and God, *fuck*, his eyes heavy and slow like he was memorizing
Eyes rolling up in his head, Lex stretched up
and licked Bruce's mouth open, pulled his fingers from between Bruce's and wrapped
them on the back of Bruce's neck, holding him there. Lex thrust into the fist
that glided up and down his shaft, hips lifting off the bed as Bruce kicked
the pace up a notch, sending him spiraling over the edge.
Red light pressed in behind his closed eyes,
mind blank as the snow outside but hot, overheated with Bruce's hands on him,
Bruce's tongue licking deep into his mouth. Hips stabbing up in uncontrollable
thrusts, he came in the tight sheath of Bruce's hand, spurting hot streams that
pulsed in waves clear to his chest, sending his heart into a desperate rhythm
and ruining his already ragged breathing.
He jerked his head away from Bruce's kiss, gulping
air and shifting to tuck in closer against golden skin, trembling as Bruce stroked
lightly, emptying him completely.
One side of his face mashed hard into the pillow
and he winced as Bruce moved away, standing and going to his dresser. He brought
back a handkerchief, wiping Lex carefully as he lay panting and stunned, incapable
of any thought beyond *more*.
Strong fingers pushed his thighs apart and Lex
raised his head, anxious and a little terrified, heart pounding so loud he was
sure Bruce could hear it.
The soft cotton wiped between his legs, brushing
over his hole and on either side of his sack, then disappeared. The intimacy
sent chills up his spine, made him suppress the instinctive urge to grab onto
Bruce and pull him down into another slow, soft kiss.
Lex watched with amusement as Bruce opened the
square of cloth, carefully fold it, and tucked it under a couple of school-issue
shirts in what must have been the laundry stack.
Bruce looked back at him for a long moment,
body shrinking as if under the weight of thoughts Lex wasn't willing to think
Bruce bent and picked up his own covers and
climbed into bed.
Lex couldn't explain the regret that ruined
his endorphin rush. He shouldn't have expected anything else - the two of them
couldn't sleep in one bed. Obviously.
Still, Bruce rolled away from him, silent and
shut-off again. Like the two of them were completely alone.
Lex felt like cussing, jumping up and demanding
something, some connection beyond this but knew if he did, he'd never have even
this again. And he had no idea what Bruce might demand of him, either.
He turned on his side and watched the snow fall
until false dawn pushed him helplessly into another heated, bleak dream.
When Lex scraped a sleep-heavy arm across gritty eyes and stretched himself
awake, he found the room empty, Bruce's neat stack of dirty clothes gone, along
with his shoes and wool coat.
Swinging his legs off the bed, Lex pried himself
out from under the covers, the white, thick blanket of snow outside the window
reflecting bright, harsh light into their room. He drew the curtains and checked
the clock - an hour late for services and he knew his bare scalp would be conspicuously
absent among the other boys' neatly-styled church hair.
Fuck. Bruce could at least have woken him. He
ran a hand over his head and reluctantly opened the wardrobe door, pulling a
pair of not-too-wrinkled pants from their hanger. He'd slip in the back of the
chapel and play dumb if anyone asked questions.
He drew on his dress shirt, letting it hang
open. His fingers trailed along his stomach and he shivered. Last night… he'd.
He and Bruce. *God*.
He wanted to find Bruce - wanted to adjust his
thinking to meet however Bruce might have changed. And a huge part, the part
that made him sit hard on the foot of his bed, pants pulled up to his knees
and forehead resting on his palms, that part wanted to take it all back.
Hell, how could he expect Bruce to behave any
differently than he was? Honestly, he wasn't sure he wanted it to happen again,
or at least… the same way. Speculation was pointless. Bruce would either bring
it up or not, and Lex wasn't about to waste precious time sulking over the possibilities.
He sighed and stood back up, pulling on his
pants, buttoning and tucking in his shirt before sliding the belt closed. A
rap on the door made him tense with silent half-fear. Someone knew he was there,
knew he was late for chapel.
"Mr. Luthor, it's Ms. Andrews - the nurse?
Mr. Wayne stopped by and mentioned that you were feeling a bit under the weather
and wouldn't be at services this morning. Mr. Luthor? May I come in?"
The soft ring in Ms. Andrews' voice was instant
relief, but as he stepped to the door to open it, he realized he was dressed.
Stripping off his shirt and the belt, he threw them over a chair and squatted
in front of the air grate in their room, leaning his forehead in for a twenty-count.
"Yeah, yes! I'm here. Hang on a minute
- I'm um… not dressed." Lex glanced down at his bare stomach, the hints
of defined muscles pointing a V under his waistband. Without the belt, the pants
sat low on his hips, and even young compared to Ms. Andrews, he grinned at the
notion that she might have to glance once or twice at his abs.
Bless Bruce for sending the lovely young nurse
to his room - her visit would doubtless win him the chair at their informal
evening study and a generous audience to boot. He licked his lips and planted
a pitiful, drawn expression on his face in front of their small mirror before
opening the door.
Blonde hair falling over one shoulder, Ms. Andrews
was a vision in white. The stockings caught Lex's eye and he wondered if her
legs were cream or tan beneath them. The buttons of her uniform were opened
low, the roundness of one breast catching the light and his attention for a
A hand closed over his forehead and Ms. Andrews
clicked her tongue, taking him by the arm and leading him down the hallway.
"Now, Lex, you know better than to lie in bed when you should be in the
"Yes, Ms. Andrews." He sounded young
and admiring even to his own ears. A little too heavy on the young. She was
pretty and inarguably *female*, but her perfume had a sharp tang to it that
stuck in his throat when he breathed too deeply.
She led him to the small, starkly blank infirmary
and sat him gently down on the edge of a cot with a thin mattress. He lay back
and instantly, the cold glass of a thermometer slipped between his lips. "Under
your tongue, Mr. Luthor."
Lex pushed the thermometer into place like a
good little boy and grinned at Bruce's idea of generosity.
He was stuck here on a flat, thin mattress with
a pleasant but somewhat fussy woman sticking thermometers in him and earning
her keep on a Sunday.
And somewhere, Bruce was sitting quietly in
perfect attire, listening to droning music and singing hymns that all sounded
like funeral dirges among the youthful tenors of a hundred schoolboys.
Of the two, Lex would have chosen the hard oak
of the pew and the warmth of Bruce's thigh mashed against his own over the soft,
citrus attention of Ms. Andrews.
The day passed slowly, the din of voices pulling him out of half-dreams when
the boys switched classes. At one point, he'd tried to sit up and get a look
out the small window of the door, but the vigilant nurse had shooed him back
into bed, despite his consistent lack of fever.
Finally at dinnertime, he'd convinced her that
he was well enough to return to the fray. He walked slowly until he was out
of her line of sight, then raced across the grounds to the dining hall, slowing
to a casual stroll as he approached the cacophony of voices chattering over
their roast beef and mashed potatoes.
Lex drifted to the space that opened for him
along one of the long benches, stepping over it to sit in between two boys who
would be playing a classic game of catch-the-worm later tonight. He grinned
and nodded at their cryptic inquiries about the tequila, then began filling
his plate as he glanced around for his roommate. Bruce was good at blending
in though, and Lex gave up his search when the guy next to him nudged his elbow.
"I heard you spent the whole day with Ms.
Andrews, Luthor. Is it true?"
The mousey boy across from him ogled at him
through his explanation of the morning's pseudo illness. His day seemed a lot
better as he casually tossed out small details that he knew would earn him envy.
Most of the time, he didn't talk this much to
anyone, but tonight everyone seemed interested. Not every young man at Excelsior
had the privilege to spend quality time with the fairer sex. Of course, there
were a lot fairer than the school nurse, but the way to become memorable is
to give people something to remember.
So between bites he answered their questions
about stockings and fevers until he felt eyes on the back of his head and began
pushing his food around his plate, anxious for the headmaster to dismiss them.
When the old crow finally did, he slipped out
the side door and avoided the cattle push through the main doors. It was a longer
walk, more time in the frigid evening air, but he barely noticed the frost that
formed in his lungs as he made his way to their dormitory.
It was dark in the hallways, the boys' room
lights all serving to light his way. He heard the rush of healed shoes on hardwood
floor behind him and half-ran the rest of the way to his room. Study wasn't
for an hour, now, and it wasn't mandatory, though he planned on going for the
sake of his reputation and profits.
The light from his room shone through the opened
door and he burst in, kicking the door shut behind him. Bruce sat on his bed,
still wrapped in long, thick wool, staring at a book on his lap.
"Bruce! Hey! Thanks for letting me sleep
in." Lex crossed the room and unbound his neck, tossing the tie on their
desk. "I spent the whole day with Ms. Andrews or I would have found you
"I didn't know she'd take you hostage."
Bruce's voice was low but good, *such* a relief after the whole day's unavoidable
silence between them.
"Yeah, she wouldn't stop taking my temperature.
I finally convinced her I was fine and she let me go. I didn't see you at dinner."
"I was there." Bruce stood, giving
him a long, thoughtful look, then moved to the door just as Lex toed off his
"I didn't see you." Lex took a step
towards him, not sure what to do with his hands. Not sure he should even be
thinking about what to do with his hands. "Bruce…"
His eyes were caught and held, Bruce's gaze
unrelenting and Lex almost scared to blink.
He wanted to ask something, wanted to *have*
something from Bruce. Some undeniable confession or rejection so he could just
get on with this whole thing, one way or another.
The right question was on the tip of his tongue,
but when he opened his mouth it morphed into, "Are you going to the evening
"No." A gloved hand reached up to
a hook beside the door and Bruce wrapped a thick scarf around his neck, tucking
it into his coat.
"Where are you- are you going out?"
"A walk. A long one." Bruce turned
from the door and went to their desk, rifling through a stack of papers and
laying down the book in his hand, picking up another one. Perusing their bookshelf
for God only knows what title.
Finally, Lex moved, sprung into action. He wasn't
used to Bruce's brand of unspoken invitation, if that's what his apparently
unpurposeful fidgeting was. It wasn't calligraphy, but it sure felt a hell of
a lot like Bruce was stalling, waiting for him to ask to go along.
Maybe Bruce was waiting for *him* to decide
what last night meant. It made sense, even if he felt a little rattled at the
idea of *him* leading *Bruce* into… God, *anything*.
They could probably just let the complicated
stuff slide, just hang out and talk for once instead of ostensibly laying conversation
aside for studies or thoughts. Lex stepped back into his shoes, heels scraping
as he wedged them on, not bothering with the laces.
"I could use some fresh air after all day
in the infirmary. Formaldehyde and perfume should never be worn at the same
time." Lex waited for confirmation.
A quick glance at Lex's feet and Bruce stood
up, bookless. "Do you have boots?"
Lex nodded and pulled off his shoes again, digging
in his wardrobe for his stout hiking boots he'd never bothered breaking in.
"I'm going to tell Mr. Evans we'll be in
the library archives. Wear your coat." The door shut hard behind Bruce
and Lex stared at it for a second, half giddy, half terrified, before blinking
himself back into action and tugging on the boots.
He met Bruce in the hallway, noticing quickly that they were dressed almost
identically. They usually were, thanks to the school's dress code, but they
seemed more alike tonight somehow. Gray coats long and touching the backs of
their calves, leather gloves shining subtly in the dim hallway.
"Ready?" Bruce didn't wait for him
to answer. Just turned on a solid black heel and started walking. Lex trailed
along behind, trying to look casual in his long strides.
The night air whipped tears into Lex's eyes
and made him huddle against himself, arms tucked in close to his ribs and hands
buried in his coat pockets. Bruce cut a clean path through the snow that was
beginning to deepen on the school's cement walkways. They trudged in a steady
rhythm to the library, Lex carefully stepping in Bruce's footprints on the icy
Inside, the sting of heat on chilled skin made
Lex edgy. "The archives, Bruce? Tell me you're kidding."
Bruce didn't turn around, but he held a hand
up to stop Lex in his tracks. "Wait here."
Lex stood under the yellow glow of an ancient,
dusty sconce. The walk had been quick and the center of his chest tickled with
the first hint of perspiration. He breathed deeply and turned a little so the
fabric of his shirt would brush against it.
Across the foyer filled with trophy cases and
pictures of long-dead award winners, Bruce was speaking in hushed tones to the
librarian, who smiled and gestured and nodded with more animation than Lex would
have suspected her capable of. She was withered and small, streaky gray hair
tied back in a severe bun, glasses caught on the rounded tip of her nose. She
seemed almost smitten with Bruce. From a woman who routinely expressed her distaste
for young boys in general, it was surprising to say the least.
Lex wondered if next time, Bruce would let him
try to charm the old meerkat into letting them into her den.
Bruce pointed back at Lex and the librarian's tight lips closed, but she nodded.
Bruce was almost smiling as he waved Lex to him and turned into the stacks.
The archives were down two flights of stairs,
in the cool, stale air of the sub-basement below the library proper. Volumes
and sheafs of papers crowded the sturdy metal shelves, and there was less space
here, the rows narrower and the ceiling maybe four feet lower.
The silent close-quarters were wearing on Lex,
the scrape of their shoes on the cement floor too loud among all that history
written by dead hands. It was creepy. Lex shivered and looked at Bruce, who
seemed right at home.
"So, come here often?" Lex reached
out and slid his fingers along the spines of books as he followed Bruce to the
back of the room.
"Often enough. Give me a hand." Bruce
reached to the top of a shelf and retrieved a key.
Lex cocked his head to the side and shrugged.
"Sure." A hand, a mouth, anything.
Bruce gripped the shelving unit on one side
and nodded at Lex to take the other. They scooted it out from the wall, spilling
a couple of books as they easily moved it over in line with another unit.
Bruce squatted and slid the books back into
their rightful spaces on the shelf. "When the maintenance crew notices,
they block it, but she doesn't care if I use it. She thinks I stay down here
all night going through all of this and sneak out before classes in the morning."
Lex followed Bruce's eyes and saw a door where
the shelf had been, a thick door with a dull brass handle.
A smile spread on Lex's face and Bruce slipped
the key in the hole and pulled the door open. "So… not the archives?"
"Good. I was beginning to think you had
a thing for books."
"Come on." Bruce stepped through the
door and Lex followed him into darkness. "Close the door behind you.
Lex paused for a second before shutting off
the light of the archives, then began blindly following Bruce.
As they got further from the light that filtered
from under the door behind them, Lex's eyes widened, searching for any scrap
of illumination around him. They turned a corner into pitch black.
Fingers in the air to his sides, he touched
the narrow passageway, stone walls that felt almost wet they were so smooth
He heard Bruce breathing softly ahead of him,
heard the distance between them growing. Bruce knew the way, not that there
was any chance of him getting lost in a straight hallway, but Lex wanted to
stay close. The blindness of total darkness made his pulse quicken. He moved
faster, toes colliding with something that made him fall forward and he caught
himself on stinging palms against the edge of a step.
"Stairs. The railing's a foot to the right."
He huffed out, the breath knocked out of him,
then quickly pushed himself up and reached to the right, gloved hand closing
hard over a thin rail. "Jesus, Bruce! Warn me next time!"
"There's a landing. You're almost there.
Turn right - just keep your hand on the railing all the way up."
They climbed the rest of the stairs, Lex stepping
carefully and wondering how the fuck Bruce knew where he was in the absence
At the top, he let go of the railing and before
he knew he was going to hit that last step the wrong way, Bruce's hands closed
on his arms and yanked him firmly onto the landing. "Careful!"
Lex didn't speak until Bruce's hands slid from
his arms. It was a long minute and by the time Bruce let go, Lex had his eyes
closed and was leaning close enough to feel Bruce's breath on his face.
The darkness and solitude wasn't so eerie this
close to Bruce. It did make him want to whisper, though. "Next time, can
we bring a flashlight? Where the fuck are we anyway?"
A door scratched open and Lex threw an arm to
his eyes instantly. The light of an empty, snow-filled courtyard was dim but
seemed stunning after the complete black of the passageway. He followed Bruce
outside, glancing over his shoulder through the closing door. The stairwell
was real and empty behind them.
Bruce was already striding across the courtyard
and Lex ran a little to catch up. The snow crunched and packed under their steps,
deep enough to wet the ankles of his pants after a few minutes. The east wall
emerged from the thin curtain of snow that fell and Lex smiled. Leaving the
grounds was always on his list of things to do.
Bruce poked his hands into the deep crevices
of the stone wall and hoisted himself up, kicking a leg over the top. Lex heard
his shoes scuffing on the other side and then the soft whomp as he landed.
Lex stretched up, tucking his hands into the
same holes Bruce had used and felt for a toe-hold with the awkward, thick end
of his boot. He slipped once, cursed under his breath and tried again, hoping
Bruce wouldn't notice how long it was taking.
When he landed with a puff of snow on the other
side of the wall, Bruce nodded once and began walking again. They stomped their
way from the gray stones of the school, the white-blue glow of a moon Lex couldn't
see somehow outlining everything.
The night was hollow and every third breath
hitched in his lungs, frosting the insides until they ached with the cold. Bruce
was silent, every once in awhile holding back a branch for him or pointing out
a tree root after they ducked into the woods.
Winter-dead trees thickened around them but
Bruce didn't pause. In fact, he barely looked up. Lex kept his eyes on the tiny
bit of skin showing at the top of Bruce's scarf for a long time until he twisted
an ankle on a rock and came back to awareness.
Bruce stopped and turned to him, eyebrows slightly
raised. "Had enough snow?"
Lex nodded and grimaced as he panted, the icy
air squeezing the breath from his frozen lungs. "Enough to last until summer,
"We're going up. Right there."
Lex followed Bruce's point and saw a black area
against the hill in front of them. The trees spread a little in front of the
opening to the cave. "Okay, yeah. I'm right behind you."
Bruce left him there to catch his breath, climbing
smoothly up the side of the hill and melting into the darkness of the cave.
He got his breath quickly under control and
scrambled up the way Bruce had gone, pausing at the cave entrance and looking
back through the woods. The night sparkled with frosted edging on leaves and
limbs, rocks and bark. The snow was slowing, the flakes smaller and more sparse.
He took a deep breath and turned back to the cave just as Bruce struck a match.
Shadows sprung up, starting with Bruce's, against
the cave walls. It was big, bigger than Lex wouldn't have guessed from outside,
and Bruce quickly made a round of the cave, lighting small pots that must've
"Wow." Lex stepped inside, eyes catching
on sharp rock formations and the veins of quartz that glittered wetly in the
smooth rock. "It's… wow."
Bruce leaned against a wall and looked up, stalactites
throwing shadows across his face and chest. "Yeah."
Lex crossed the expansive cavern, taking in
the curves and points, the sticky red-brown floor. It smelled like earth, dirty
and mossy. "How'd you find this place?"
"Remember field day last year?" Bruce
pushed off the wall and moved to the center of the room where Lex saw a fire
pit. He unzipped his backpack and pulled out a blanket and a rain poncho, spreading
them there on opposite sides of the pit and sitting down.
"Mm hmm. My father won't let me forget
it. He thought I was… well, it was bad. Trust me." Lex joined him on the
floor, the intimacy of the flickering candles warming him.
"I went exploring and found it."
Lex couldn't remember seeing Bruce or his parents
that day. They must've not come. He knew what that felt like - he'd had always
found some other distraction on field day when Lionel hadn't bothered to show
up, but it still sucked to look out the window and see all those families smiling.
Even if half of them were faking it.
"My dad travels a lot, too. He's only ever
made it to that one. I bet he never misses another one now, though."
Bruce leaned back a little and pulled the matchbox
from his pocket, then handed it to Lex and stood, brushing his gloved hands
on his coat. "Get that kindling going, would you?"
"Sure." Lex watched Bruce walk across the cave and disappear down
a dark passageway. Lex lit a match and held it to the tip of a piece of bark,
waiting while it smoldered and finally caught. He looked over his shoulder at
the empty cavern. "Bruce?"
After a tense minute, Bruce emerged with an
armful of dead branches and small logs. "Just getting the wood. I keep
it back there so it stays fairly dry."
"Right. Well, let's have it." Lex
reached up for a stick and Bruce handed it to him, rolling the rest of the wood
from his arms next to the fire pit. In a few minutes, they had a small blaze
crackling. The heat was intense at such a close range, and Lex caught himself
shifting back away from it, almost off the edge of his blanket.
He peeled off his gloves and watched as Bruce
shrugged off his coat, folding it in half and laying it beside him. He wasn't
that brave - it was still chilly and he was sweaty from the brisk pace of the
walk. He did unwrap the scarf from his neck and pull the tie's knot loose from
his collar though.
Bruce pulled off his gloves, too and held his
palms to the fire. "It's better in the spring."
Lex shook his head, completely unwilling to
believe that it could be any better than it was right here, right now. He took
a breath and scooted forward again, sliding out of his coat and letting it fall
behind him, leaning back on bent elbows. The soles of his boots were warm and
his feet thawed slowly through the thick rubber. "It's amazing, Bruce."
"I can think here. I like…" Bruce
looked at him carefully.
Lex put him out of his misery, knowing what
he was going to say. "To be alone? Yeah, me too." He nodded his head
out the cave entrance. "They're not really worth the time, you know?"
Bruce nodded and stared at his shoes, arms hooked
on the outsides of his spread, bent knees, feet together. It was probably the
most relaxed Lex had ever seen him, and still there was this huge *thing* looming
in between them. A question of purpose and intent that Lex still wasn't sure
he could answer.
The cave was almost bright with the firelight,
and Bruce got up and went around the walls, snuffing each candle with wet fingertips.
Lex watched his every move, waiting for some hint of where to go, or where not
to. The lack of conversation wasn't helping, and he considered trying to fill
in the gaps with idle chat, but he'd never really been convincingly good at
"Thanks for Ms. Andrews." He didn't
mean it like *that*, but Bruce's head jerked up and when Bruce sat down, he
sat further away.
"I didn't know she was going to come to
the room." Bruce picked up a stick from the woodpile and scraped abstract
shapes into the red clay floor of the cave.
"Do you think she's pretty?" And shit,
he didn't want to hear the answer to that.
Bruce shrugged. "Lots of the guys think
so. She seems… plain to me."
"Like her entire personality is right out
in the open for everyone, and it's not very interesting, either."
Bruce looked up then, staring at him with wide,
dark eyes. "Have you had… many girls?"
Lex shivered and scooted closer the fire, a
nervous smile forming on his lips before he could bite down on it. "Not
Bruce grinned at him and he laughed. "Okay,
one. Last summer at the country club. She and I were in a riding competition
and she won. A congratulatory kiss kind of… grew into more." Lex felt his
face flush and he couldn't wipe the smile from his mouth, though he really wanted
"What was she like?"
God, how do answer that? Did Bruce mean… in
comparison to *him* or just in general?
"Soft. Like silk. Blonde, cupid's bow lips,
brown eyes that hid everything." He'd caught her in the stables, crying,
cleaning stones from her horse's sore-covered hoof months after she'd ridden
him to victory against Lex.
Lex had heard he was going to have be put down
and gone straight to the club, knowing she'd be there. "Her horse got sick
and she started kissing me and couldn't seem to stop."
"And you stepped up and made her feel better?"
Lex looked away from accusing eyes, staring
into the fire for a moment before looking back at Bruce. He knew Bruce could
use it against him someday, tease him or out him to the other boys at the school.
But then, he knew about Bruce's cave, didn't he?
"No. Actually, I refused. I left her in
a half-naked heap on soggy hay, crying her eyes red. "It came out like
a dare but Bruce only nodded slowly, the hint of respect and understanding playing
in his eyes.
"I've never had a girlfriend." Bruce
whispered it, like it was something to be ashamed of, and Lex smiled over at
"You're kidding? An outgoing, talkative
socialite like you, Bruce? No!"
Bruce leaned over and shoved his arm, toppling
Lex back on the floor of the cave. Bruce was on him a split second, thighs straddling
his hips and big hands pinning his arms down.
Lex laughed and went slack, not even trying
to fight. Bruce leaned back a little, letting up the pressure on Lex's arms,
expression changing from unthinking happiness to something entirely different.
Lex talked fast, struggling a little and bucking
his hips up. "Oh, sure, you can take me on strength. Give me a foil and
we'll settle this like gentlemen."
"Yeah. You fight?" Lex pushed up with
his arms and gained a short centimeter before they slammed back onto the blanket.
"Jesus, you're strong. What do they feed you?"
Bruce shook his head slowly, like he hadn't
even heard Lex's tease. "I don't know what…"
Lex took up the lag-time, swallowed and locked
eyes with Bruce. "I don't either. It's okay though. I… I want it, too."
The hands on his arms slid up, fingers lacing
through his as Bruce's weight pressed against his chest and cock. "Just
Leave. Break his heart. Tell anyone. Expect
"I won't, Bruce. You, either."
Faces inches apart, he watched as Bruce licked
his lips. He felt his own tongue mimicking. The warm, eager mouth closed on
his, finally, and he pushed against Bruce's hands, disentangling their fingers
and lacing his through Bruce's hair, tongue licking into the slickness and lips
The kiss heated all the way down to his hips
and he rocked them gently, the heavy rubbing of Bruce's body a maddening trap
on his own. His zipper dug into his cock on every press together, and he moaned
and arched up hard, thrusting obviously into Bruce's body.
Bruce propped up on one hand and looked at him
and Lex waited patiently, hands lying on either side of his head in a mock-surrender.
They lay there like that for what seemed like hours, Bruce staring and breathing
hard and Lex panting under him.
Lex shook his head fast. "I won't do it
again." He sighed softly and Bruce shifted off of him, kneeling between
his spread legs.
"No. It's not- You need…" Bruce's
big fingers reached out to his chest, slipping plastic buttons through their
slits. "Can I?"
But he was already halfway done before Lex could
speak. Cool air hit his skin, nipples tightening and chest rising as he sucked
in a breath. "Jesus, yes."
Bruce spread the halves of his shirt open, warm
hands spreading wide on his chest and running from neck to navel and back up
over his ribs. Lex closed his eyes and held his breath as Bruce leaned down.
"You're so… smooth." The youthful
awe in Bruce's voice was sweet, naïve almost. Lex smiled down at him then
moaned softly as Bruce's cheek brushed over a nipple. He felt Bruce move away
again, felt knees pushing his thighs further apart then the tip of Bruce's nose
cold against his belly, then the cool rush of air as Bruce inhaled deeply.
"Christ." Lex pushed his hips into
the cave floor to keep from bucking up as the heel of Bruce's palm pressed against
his length. "Fuck, Bruce."
"Can I-" Bruce's whisper wasn't exactly
Lex groaned at a second stroke along his cock,
the fabric of pants and boxers sliding and catching, pulling in ways he would
never have considered erotic, but now they were. "Yes, anything. *Anything*."
Bruce's hand stopped pressing and caught Lex's
hand, pulling him up a little. The backpack slid under his back and Lex leaned
awkwardly on it as Bruce wrapped his hands on Lex's sides, fingers pushing in
a little between his ribs.
Wet and slick, Bruce's tongue licked across
his belly, making Lex jerk up and bite his lip to keep from crying out. He squirmed
a little until the hands on his sides gripped him harder.
Bruce looked up out from under his too-long
fringe of bangs, face serious and earnest. "Has anyone ever…" Bruce
looked pointedly down at the bulge in Lex's pants. "Done *that* to you?"
"Sucked me?" Lex licked his lips and
Bruce's eyes fell closed and he ducked his head,
one hand sliding from Lex's side to open his pants. Bruce's fist edged under
his boxers and pulled out his cock, big hand strong and sure.
"Oh, God. Oh-" Lex let his head fall
back and scraped his scalp on a backpack buckle, felt some hard corner from
inside the bag pressing into his neck and didn't care. "Bruce, *God*."
A quick suck on his stomach and a soft, "Shhh,"
and Bruce's mouth was closing around the throbbing head of his cock.
Slippery and soft, so fucking good in there,
in *Bruce's* mouth with strong lips wrapped in a tight, moving circle. Lex forced
himself to lift his head and look, neck stretching and hand reaching for the
hollow of Bruce's cheek, hips carefully still and God, he didn't know how long
he could keep from moving.
If the warm contrast between cave air and Bruce's
mouth was good, his quick tongue and the back of his throat were unbelievable.
He sucked in a regular rhythm at first, pausing to glance up at Lex, who couldn't
take his eyes off the flushed lips and cheeks. "Don't stop-" Lex rocked
his hips up, groaning when Bruce's mouth slipped off of him and sucked up the
side of his cock, teeth brushing along the sensitive skin.
Bruce held his eyes, one hand slipping up between
Lex's legs, touching briefly to Bruce's mouth, then pressing firmly up between
his thighs. The finger twisted on his hole and Lex tried to relax, felt himself
tighten and gritted his teeth as the finger forced its way in, wriggling inside.
Lex lost control, hips bucking wildly, Bruce sucking mercilessly up his length,
then pulling him back inside as Lex's hands closed on his shoulders.
He couldn't fight Bruce or the mouth on his
cock or the impending shock of pleasure that would render him helpless.
"Ah! I'm gonna… Bruce, stop I-" He
jerked his hips away but Bruce's hand squeezed his ribs hard, holding him down,
the mouth on his cock doubling its efforts as he shoved at Bruce's shoulders,
pressing his ass into the cave floor to pull out.
A deep push in his ass and the slurp of Bruce's
lips as the slipped on his cock and Lex threw his head back and let go, body
spasming under Bruce's weight, hips bucking wildly and back arching as he came
in long, hard waves, his deep groans echoing against the walls of the cave.
He lay there panting, head thrashing back and
forth on the backpack, hands rubbing and rubbing on Bruce's neck and shoulders.
When the dizzy-drunkeness of orgasm finally passed, he looked down at Bruce.
Chin digging into Lex's hip, eyes closed, face sweaty and lips smeared, he was
stunning. He looked spent, like every weight he normally carried around without
complaint had come crashing down on him and he'd just thrown up his hands and
Lex stretched up and glanced over Bruce's shoulder.
The fire was dying down, the cave darkening and cooling fast.
"I'll get more wood. You… you'd better
get dressed." Bruce pushed up and walked back to his hole in the wall,
leaving Lex disheveled and chilled.
He lay there shivering, missing the solid warmth
of another body against his, the loss too abrupt. He stared at the ceiling,
mind clearing in the thin air. A hard ball formed in his throat and he closed
his eyes, forcing himself to relax.
When Bruce returned, he looked surprised to see him still lying there. Lex hadn't
even zipped his pants and was trying hard not to be embarrassed by his half-hard
cock lying wet and shiny against his belly.
Lex let small smile creep across his lips. "Come
back down here."
He felt Bruce tense, felt him pull back from
the relaxation to total burden again. "We should be getting back, Lex."
It was a flimsy attempt to escape the inevitable,
so Lex figured he could push just a little harder and see what happened. "Then
why did you get more wood? It's not dawn for hours. Come back down here."
Bruce knelt down beside him and Lex sat up,
the wool of Bruce's pants brushing his thigh. "I don't know if I- if we…"
"It doesn't matter." The words failed
him and Lex reached out, slipping his hand around Bruce's neck, urging him close.
Their lips met and parted, Bruce's hand closing on his thigh as they sank into
Head foggy with the smoky earth scent and Bruce
so close, Lex shifted his hips, found Bruce's leg by touch and ran his hand
He pulled his other hand down and unfastened
Bruce's belt, grasped the neat edge of his tucked in shirt and pulled it up,
fingers working as fast as his tongue. Bruce moaned into his mouth, the uninhibited
low sound buzzing over his teeth as he slipped his hands inside Bruce's shirt.
His fingers warmed against Bruce's hot skin
as he touched, feeling the rigid lines of muscles he'd seen the night before.
He knew them already, knew exactly where to rub and press to make Bruce flex,
to make him breath hard and hot on Lex's upper lip.
A hand pushed on his shoulder and he leaned
away slowly, letting the kiss linger as long as Bruce's lips still met his.
Hand firm and insistent, Lex opened his fingers
in a V on either side of Bruce's length, sliding them up and down slowly. "Yes?"
"We should go…" Bruce closed his eyes
and swallowed hard, body still and tense under Lex's hands.
Lex leaned down, chest pressing gently on Bruce's
until Bruce was on his back on the blanket. "You already said that."
He scooted off, crouching beside Bruce, rocks
under the blanket digging into his knees, one hand working Bruce's zipper open,
the other reaching inside to free him. He was big, thicker than Lex and he filled
Lex's fist, hips moving slowly in opposite cadence with Lex's gentle stroking.
He licked Bruce's belly, not sure where to start,
nerves on edge and stomach flipping but he was determined, *anxious* to try
it. Bruce's skin glowed orange in the flickering firelight and Lex drank in
the sun-warm gold, the faint salt taste lingering on his lips when he licked
them and lowered his head.
He breathed warm air onto Bruce's cock and it
flexed, responding to him. This was power. Control over Bruce, who was never
out of control. He licked out, tongue circling Bruce's head carefully and Bruce
arched up, brushing his slick length across Lex's lips.
Lex closed his eyes and took a deep breath,
gathering his nerve. His whisper was almost silent, "Tell me if you want
me to stop."
Bruce growled as Lex leaned down, taking him
in as far as he could. He held still at first, jaw stretched wide, tongue licking
around the sides and front, lips closing around the shaft and sucking gently.
Wet and slippery, smooth stretched skin and the taste, God, the taste of *Bruce*
sliding on his tongue. He bobbed his head once, then sank further down, wanting
it all, every inch in his mouth.
Hips thrusting hard, Bruce hit the back of his
throat, once, again before Lex had to pull back, his throat working hard in
a desperate attempt to stay silent. He choked a little and Bruce's hand closed
on the back of his neck, holding him still but *on*, making sure he didn't chicken
He hummed when his throat stopped spasming,
and started moving again at Bruce's hiss.
It drove him on, made him want to get it *right*,
perfect because even if he hadn't lasted long, being sucked was the most incredible
thing he'd ever experienced.
He pulled off and licked around the shaft again,
teeth biting into the soft skin beside Bruce's hipbone, quick and sharp, eliciting
a little whimper and Bruce's voice, changed to something too obvious, begging
him, "Yes, like that, Lex. Do that again."
And Lex wasn't sure if he meant this, but it
couldn't hurt to try… *anything*. He licked his lips and carefully closed his
teeth on Bruce's cock, skimming them from base to tip. Bruce shuddered and the
hand on his neck squeezed too tight, painfully tight, yanking him off and away.
One short second of doubt and regret and then Bruce's hand closed on his cock,
jerking fast and hard.
Lex watched from inches away as Bruce shook
and rocked with his orgasm, come spurting in long, thin trails up the center
of his chest. Bruce's hand went slack, elbow falling to the blanket. Lex bent
and licked, mouth closing and sucking hard, smearing a thick, messy line up
Bruce's side, all the way up his neck, over his stubbly chin to his mouth. Bruce
shuddered beneath him and groaned into the kiss.
Bruce's hand slid from his neck, reconnecting
on his hip and pulling, guiding Lex on top of him. Careful not to break the
kiss, he gingerly straddled Bruce's legs, their half hard cocks brushing together,
making them both shake hard against each other, hands squeezing skin and holding
on tight. They breathed the same air, their flavors mingling in the kiss until
Lex couldn't tell where he ended and Bruce began.
When Lex's eyes fluttered open as an afterthought,
he saw Bruce staring back at him.
The snow seemed crisper on their way back to
the school. Dawn's eerie blue light had crept up on them, shining too brightly
into the wide mouth of the cave, pulling Lex's eyes open. Bruce had already
packed everything but the blanket Lex lay on. He stretched his frozen muscles,
smiling up at Bruce when he was offered a gloved hand.
He'd taken it and bundled up quickly, folding
the blanket sloppily and shoving it into Bruce's pack before following him out
of the cave.
The wall was ten feet taller in the morning,
apparently, and slicker too, every stone's edge coated with ice. Bruce cupped
his hands together and nodded at Lex, who took the offered hoist up, scrambling
over the wall that scraped his chest through wool and cotton both. Bruce followed
him over easily, graceful and sure-footed. Lex smiled his admiration at him
as he landed, but Bruce didn't see.
It wasn't late. In fact, Lex was sure they had plenty of time to get back before
breakfast, but as they got closer to the buildings, Bruce's strides lengthened
and once a minute Lex had to half-run to catch back up. Bruce was taller than
he, and bigger too - broader and more developed, more… adult.
Lex didn't mind following him for some reason,
though there were few at the fine institution who could ever say they'd led
Lex anywhere. Bruce commanded without ordering. He walked without looking to
see if Lex was behind him. They stepped hard through the top crust of frozen
snow, feet crunching along in a regular, brisk rhythm. Lex found himself puffing
into his gloves, wondering if the meteors had actually cured his asthma after
When the first building came into sight, Lex
realized they were fucked. The school grounds were dotted with wool-draped figures,
drab brown and gray against the brilliance of the snow. They were moving fast
along the pathways, grouping into little clumps and separating again in different
Bruce's pace slowed, and when he stopped, Lex
nearly ran into him.
Lex looked from the serious frown on Bruce's
face to the rushing student-ants and back again. "They know what, exactly?"
Bruce's eyes caught his and Lex's heart stopped.
He shook his head and started walking towards
the school. "No. No, they don't know. They just know…" He stopped
again, looking over his shoulder and seeing Bruce where he'd left him.
"That we snuck off the grounds, Lex. That
we were gone all night."
Lex glanced at the school again and smiled back
at Bruce and shrugged. "They'll suspend us. Call our parents. Dad will
have a field day."
"We could say one of us got lost."
Lex thought about it, hating himself for being
so willing to protect… whatever this was between them. "But then they'll
want to know what we were doing in the woods. They can't find the cave. I'll
just… I'll say we snuck off campus to meet some girls." He paused, waiting
for Bruce's reaction but didn't get one. "Okay?"
Bruce nodded once and strode past him, and Lex
followed him in silence.
"Son, you have to ---- responsibility.
I'm not spending ---- so you can chase ass."
The line was bad and maybe his dad wouldn't
hear. "Like you didn't do it when you were here."
"Careful, son." The phone crackled
in his ear again and Lex held it an inch away. "Destroy yourself on your
own dime, Lex. Don't let your damnfool headmaster call me again."
The unstable connection was broken and Lex listened
to the silence for another minute, nodding and yes-sirring, ducking his head
and dropping his shoulders. When his headmaster smirked victoriously, Lex hung
up the phone and slumped in his chair.
"He says he'll deal with me in person -
over the holidays."
"Very well. Return to your room. You are
confined there for the duration of the evening. No meal. Your class work has
been gathered and delivered to your room. I expect to hear that you've completed
it when I check with your instructors tomorrow."
"Sir?" Lex glanced up hopefully, shifting
a little in his seat in a mock-hesitation. "Are you punishing Bruce? He
didn't… I mean, I really dragged him along… kind of. He kept saying we shouldn't
go and I kept daring him."
"Covering for your friend, huh, Luthor?
Don't concern yourself with Mr. Wayne. He's been…" The ancient crone patted
the slab of wood that was worn smooth from all the punishments he'd dolled out
over countless years to countless boys. "… dealt with."
Lex focused on his shoes and refused to see
the satisfied smile that spread across the headmaster's face. "May I be
The man knew better than to try to hit a Luthor.
Lionel may strike his son, but Lex was sure he would never give that kind of
power to a man of so little character. Maybe to no other man at all.
Lex walked slowly to the door of the office
and slipped out, breathing in relief at the empty corridor, racing as fast as
he could all the way to the exit. He slowed his pace and followed the path to
their dorm under the hazy sun, sweating and aching with every step. Bruce would
be there, waiting for him, deliberately *not* sulking or clueing Lex in on his
They were both too proud for commiseration,
no matter whose hand was delivering the blows.
Lex pushed the door of their room open slowly,
stepping in quietly and throwing his jacket over the desk chair. Bruce was huddled
under the covers, the soft edge of comforter touching high on his ear, his face
hidden beneath striped cotton. Lex closed the blinds and turned off the room
light. He kicked his shoes off at the foot of his bed and stood there, hands
in his pockets, not wanting to face the silence of the room. Of Bruce.
The oddly rebellious feeling of unbuttoning
his shirt and slipping it off was too good to ignore. Lex took a deep breath
and reached for his belt, slid it out of the loops and laid it across the foot
of his mattress.
Months of sleeping feet away had taught Lex
the intimate sounds Bruce made, from sleeping to thinking, the quiet brooding
and the too-quick, awkward laughs of nervousness. He'd learned them all, paid
attention to every sound without even realizing it. Probably because any sound
was rare. He listened for anything telltale at all from his roommate, and now,
he heard the deceptive cadence of perfect sleep breath.
Bruce's breathing was regular and deep, and
for anyone else, it would have been a plausible sleep-pattern, but for Bruce
it was unusual, too perfect.
Lex wondered how far he could take the farce,
how long Bruce would hold out before he broke. He moved to Bruce's side and
sat gently on the edge of the bed, one arm making a bridge over Bruce's back,
his other hand slowly peeling the covers down to reveal golden skin. He skimmed
his knuckles gently down miles of skin, inching the covers below Bruce's waist,
earning the slightest twitch from Bruce's hips.
The breathing stayed constant though, and Lex
smiled at the challenge. He slowly leaned away and lifted the covers up, dropping
them softly on the thin carpet. Bruce wore boxers, one leg straight and one
bent to the side, his arms wrapped around his pillow, body stretched and taut
in the false sprawl, muscles working almost imperceptibly to hold the position
as Lex slid his fingers up under the edge of a boxer leg.
The fine, curled hair of Bruce's leg was soft
and Lex closed his eyes, slid his hand higher up the back of Bruce's thigh to
his ass, fingers carefully light on the hot, abused skin.
A sucked-in breath and Lex's smile faded as
Bruce rolled over too look at him, the movement forcing his hand to slide out
Lex held his gaze as long as he could, then
nodded at Bruce's hips, licking his lips and softening his voice with practiced
gentility. "Are you okay?"
"Fine." Bruce closed his eyes and
dropped his head back to the pillow. "What about you?"
Laughing softly, Lex reached out and ran his
hand down Bruce's arm. "Dad likes to keep corporal punishment in the family."
Bruce rolled away from him, pulling away from
the touch. "We shouldn't have gone."
It stung, worse than the headmaster's paddle
or anything Lionel would be able to devise, he was sure.
Lex retrieved his handiest defense mechanism
from above the ceiling tiles and took long pulls on the bottle until his head
felt lighter and his eyelids felt heavier. He stripped his pants and socks off
and sat there on the desk in his underwear, feet dangling, just staring at Bruce's
broad back, at the sharp hints of miniature wings for shoulder blades under
all that smooth dark skin.
The silence that kept Lex guessing over the
next few days was different from their usual silence. It was full, pregnant
with the seed of Bruce's guilt and Lex's hunger, and one of them was going to
have to give up the fight. Soon.
Even with both of them in there burning midnight
oil over midterms and research papers, the air had been too thick for Lex to
tolerate. He'd managed to slip out casually every time it got to be too overwhelming,
but Bruce never watched him leave.
Lex pulled on his wool and trudged down the
thousand stairs in a push of other boys, letting himself be jostled along in
a way that made him sick to his stomach. As he reached the bottom of the last
flight, he edged out of the crowd and propped himself against a trophy case
as he waited for the stragglers to trickle by. Just as he pushed away from the
glass, Bruce rounded the corner.
His roommate saw him, eye contact undeniable
for the first time in too many hours.
Bruce's mouth opened and closed and he took
two steps away, then stopped and turned back to Lex.
He couldn't help but smile. "Hey."
"Going for a walk? A long one?" Lex
laughed and began walking, breathing easier as Bruce fell into step beside him.
"I could use some air, too."
And that was how it was. Easy come, easy go,
easy come again. Bruce by his side in study hall that night, reaching across
to correct a problem on Lex's trigonometry paper.
Lex allowed it. Hell, he soaked it up and bathed
in it and scrubbed away bitterness that was caked on from years alone with Lionel.
For the next week, Bruce cut through layers, scraped them off and left Lex raw
with the stupidest, simplest gestures. An orange on his pillow after a late
night fencing practice. His dirty laundry collected and gone before he'd had
a chance to let it pile up in the bottom of his wardrobe.
Bruce was ahead of every game, had the inside
track on everything naturally. Lex had to work for that, had to summon determination
and Luthor stubbornness and focus on the goal to even begin to tap into his
sixth-sense abilities. He prized himself as a good judge of character, but really
it wasn't *him*. It was his connections, his investigators, his contacts who
supplied enough information that he didn't have to have any gut feelings.
But Bruce knew without working at it, and Lex
found himself shying away, retreating further back into himself as Bruce became
more and more attuned to him. It was unnerving to say the least.
And two weeks after the cave, two weeks after
Bruce had effectively cut off their physical relationship and started this eerie
friendship in which Lex felt so damn exposed, Bruce blew him away with an invitation
to spend the holidays at Wayne manor.
It was short and to the point, scribbled on
a yellow sticky note, stuck to Lex's wardrobe door. Bruce was gone when Lex
woke up that morning, and it was probably a good thing. Lex peeled the note
from the door and flopped back on his bed, arm thrown across his face. He groaned
and laughed and kicked the bed until he bounced. It was too much.
Bruce was a rollercoaster with no hills, no
loops, no wheels. Electric and thrillingly simple. All potential and possibility
and no guarantees. No rain checks.
Best friend, stranger. Brother, distant cousin.
Fallen angel, alien.
The last line on the note was irresistible,
Like he'd known Lex would hesitate, and shit,
he probably had known. Jesus Christ. Holidays at Wayne manor, with all the brooding,
tall, dark and handsome relatives hovering over him, clinking crystal and toasting
vague pipedreams that no one actually wanted to come true.
It would be almost as bad as what Lionel would
subject him to, but then again, Bruce would be there. A solid home base to run
back to when people closed in on him or the lights shone too brightly on his
bare head. And a new set of people, a new set of pricks to humiliate gently
and twinks to tease with too-intense stares. Girls to scent and lead on, parents
to charm, businessmen who hadn't heard his youthful resume yet.
And he'd get to see Bruce in action. The social
version, out of the safety of thick wool and into something flashy and modern
maybe. Uncomfortable in a new way, a little fake maybe, which is something Bruce
just never was, not with anyone, not that Lex had ever seen. But he wouldn't
have the option to be rude to party guests, wouldn't have the option to just
disappear and do his own thing away from the celebratory masses.
Lex peeled another sticky note from the pad
on their desk and wrote, "Reindeer couldn't drag me away. Thanks for the
invite. - Lex"
The cool metal of the phone tingled against
his flushed cheek as he waited for his father to pick up the extension. Lex
tapped his heel back against the wall and shifted, then straightened as Lionel's
voice came onto the line.
"What is it, son?"
Direct was best. It'd taken him an entire bottle
of scotch to come to that conclusion and with two days left until winter break,
he was pushing the odds of an affirmative answer. He swallowed slowly.
"Wayne asked me to spend the holiday in
Gotham." Lex's palm slid on the receiver and he switched hands, wiped his
sweaty fingers on his pants.
"I see." Lionel's silence was typical,
and Lex had been expecting it.
It dragged on though, to the point that Lex
was grateful he could still hear his father's breath breezing over the line.
He knew better than to utter any form of impatience.
"Tired of your dear old dad, Lex?"
Lionel's low laugh made him smile, but he bit into his lip to keep from letting
it show in his voice.
"I was thinking I could make some contacts
in Gotham. Potential LuthorCorp assets."
"That's my boy." Lionel laughed harder
and Lex let himself chuckle into the phone along with him. "All right,
spend the holidays with Mr. Wayne."
"Thank you, father." Lex knew ass-kissing
was only ever accepted when done facetiously with Lionel, and anything more
than genuine gratefulness would be rewarded with a quick reversal of the decision.
Lionel hung up without a good-bye as usual and
seeing that the halls were nearly empty, Lex sprinted back up to the room to
tell Bruce everything was set.
Bruce was a little more animated that afternoon,
bumping their shoulders together and joking with him as they walked to dinner
together, slowly, quietly keeping to the path as the other boys ran past them.
They'd started sitting together at meals, and
Bruce's habits were almost his own. He salted everything on his plate some nights,
just so he could hand Bruce the salt before Bruce asked for it. He'd even taken
a liking to beets, which Bruce despised and pushed onto Lex's plate without
They always sat at the end of one of the long
tables, the buffer of an aisle on one side of Bruce, Lex on the other. He felt
obligated to leave the aisle seat for Bruce, though Lex found himself turning
too far some nights, giving whatever annoying bench-mate on his other side the
full attention of the back of his head.
Tonight when they arrived at the dining hall,
the seating had been changed. There were fewer tables and they were arranged
differently. Bruce looked unnerved - his face blank but eyes hesitant as he
paused in the entryway. Lex nudged his shoulder and led the way to his group
of casual friends. When the boys on the bench parted to make room for him, he
waved them further apart and smiled up at Bruce, who shrugged off his jacket
and climbed over the bench.
Lex didn't pass the salt. Bruce carefully ate
around the mashed potatoes on his plate that were stained pink with beet juice.
The other boys, however, were more than curious and less than subtle about their
curiosity about Excelsior's most silent student.
"So what's Gotham like, Bruce?"
Lex grinned tightly over at his roommate, sending
encouragement and confidence where Bruce probably didn't really need any. It
was a simple, polite question.
"Dirty." Bruce lifted his head when
the boy remained silent, then grinned just enough. "And big, too."
"Big and dirty… sounds like my kinda town.
Lots of girls there?"
Bruce reached for the salt and shook too much
on his pink potatoes, shaking his head. "No, just women. They're born women
The kid started at his name, probably thought
Bruce didn't know it. Paul lifted his fork and shoved a stack of beets into
his mouth. Bruce shot a split-second grin at Lex and focused on his food, looking
up every once in awhile with a kind of challenge for the other boys.
Lex fielded questions and orders for post-holiday
booze, joked around a little with everyone about midterms and parents and didn't
even cringe when the subject naturally turned to his and Bruce's night off campus.
He'd been ready for it and had avoided it as long as he could.
"So where'd you guys go anyway? And who
were the girls? St. Anges chicks?"
Lex knew this kid, knew his parents were less
than reputable, knew he didn't have to respect him but would, for LuthorCorp's
sake. Wouldn't Lionel be proud?
"No, they drove down from Pike's Prep."
Conner turned to him, acidic grin heralding
the insult, "Heard about your big bald head, huh, Lex?"
The old automatic smile spread across Lex's
lips and he cocked his head to the side just a little, then looked at Bruce.
"Now how would you suppose *he* knows about my big bald head?"
Bruce picked up the cue while some of the kids
chuckled. He gave Lex an impossible half wink, then shook his head dramatically,
face as animated as Lex had ever seen it with eyebrows raised and a sexy little
suppressed grin pulling the corners of his mouth up.
He shrugged those big shoulders. "The locker
The entire table erupted and Bruce got a few
high fives and a couple of back pats before it was over. It was the most Lex
had ever heard Bruce say to anyone but himself or their professors. The whole
thing made Bruce tense, his body tight and humming next to Lex for the rest
of dinner, but Lex still felt like they'd overcome some weird barrier between
them and the rest of the school.
They didn't belong here, but they could at least
blend in. Even Bruce.
Their luggage slung into the back of the gleaming
silver sedan and Bruce held the door for him with a small smile. Lex was made
for that kind of beginning.
Holidays weren't something to look forward to
in the Luthor household, not since his mother had passed just before his twelfth
winter, taking all the true garlands of the season with her. On the stitched
leather seat, belted in next to Bruce, their bodies too warm from layers of
clothing in the car's heat, he felt himself drifting, thinking of nothing, feeling
the comfort and promise of Bruce's thigh against his.
The countryside flew by and the driver, silent
and dutiful, kept his hat on until Bruce reached up and knocked it off, smiling.
"Mack, this is Lex Luthor. Lex, Mack."
Lex nodded his hello and the driver smiled into
the rearview mirror.
"Everyone friends now?" Lex and the
driver looked at each other, then at Bruce. "Good."
It was tight, not exactly contrived, but...
forced. Bruce wasn't one to be overtly rude, but when he tried too hard, things
came out curt and short.
Snow dulled the scenery and Lex snuck glances
at Bruce, slightly amused to find Bruce looking at him unabashedly every single
time their eyes met.
It was nearly three weeks since the cave, three
weeks since any kind of physical contact beyond casual brushes and accidental
touches. Lex's eyes were still heavy with the late hours he'd spent lying awake,
waiting for *anything* to happen. The afternoon spent in the headmaster's office
had deadened all obvious attraction on Bruce's part, had drastically severed
their physical connection.
If Bruce was playing hard to get, Lex was willing
to put up a chase, but not by these means. It couldn't be that though - Bruce
wasn't that... shallow. He didn't seem like a game-player.
Besides, the invitation to spend three solid
weeks living together was an obvious cue that Bruce wasn't looking for space.
No, the three weeks would have been the perfect opportunity to avoid anything
with which Bruce might not be comfortable.
When they were in city traffic and Mack was
relatively distracted, Lex made his move. He peeled off his glove, reached over
and firmly laced his fingers through Bruce's. A fraction of a second's worth
of shock flashed across Bruce's face, then faded just as quickly. Maybe this
wasn't what Bruce intended for them, but until he said otherwise, Lex was upping
As they crawled through evening gridlock, Lex
leaned more of his weight against Bruce and squeezed his fingers tighter, bringing
Bruce's hand over to his own thigh. When Bruce didn't resist, Lex laid their
clasped hands there, smiling and letting the rush of physical contact replace
the stresses of Excelsior.
Looming wasn't a fitting description. That would
have implied that the facade of Wayne Manor had some animate quality, some humanoid
characteristics. The place was dead cold. Sprawling, straight lines and sharp
gothic spears jutting against Gotham's sunken evening sky, piercing into the
black night that sucked in it's belly, held itself up, just out of reach.
Lex peered up until they got so close to the
manor that he could no longer see the spires from his car window, then casually
leaned back on the seat and waited for the driver to get out. He caught Bruce's
eyes, gave him what he hoped was an unmistakably sexy smile, and leaned in to
take a quick kiss before the door opened beside him.
Bruce's free hand wrapped around the back of
his neck as Lex leaned in, pulling him solidly into tilted head, closed eyes.
Firm lips eager and warm on his own. The cool air rushed into the car and Lex
pulled back slowly, dizzy and relieved.
Maybe it was just the school that inhibited
As much as he wanted to deny the possibility,
it made sense. Bruce wasn't out, wasn't known for dating anyone, let alone boys.
Plus, it might not be wise to let the school find out about them if they wanted
to remain roommates. Of course.
Lex stood back for a second in his light bulb
moment, then stepped up quickly as Bruce moved in beside Mack over the open
trunk to help with the bags. Lex had never stood upon ceremony with the servants,
allowing them liberties his father chuckled over when he noticed.
As he pulled his own bags out and stepped back,
Mack smiled at him and shut the trunk.
The massive front door opened for them before
any of them could set luggage down to turn the knob. An impeccably dressed butler
greeted them formally, informing "Master Bruce" that he'd had the
guest room in the west wing prepared for "Master Luthor."
Lex cringed at the titles and tried not to smirk
when Bruce bumped his shoulder into the starched man, winking and smiling. "Nothing
gets past you, eh, old man?"
Lex followed Bruce's lead, taking the broad
staircase two steps at a time, bags bumping against his legs and biceps burning
a little by the time they reached the top. Even to Lex, the manor was opulent.
He tried not to ogle the carved mahogany that stretched across the domed ceilings
as they made their way down a long hallway. He was used to elaborate displays
of wealth but as the hallway stretched on, he realized that Bruce *had* to be
But it was simpler than that, of course. The
last room on the right was Bruce's, or so Lex assumed when Bruce set his bags
down by that door. He took one of Lex's suitcases and turned back the way they'd
come. Lex glanced over his shoulder at Bruce's door as they started walking,
hoping to remember the way back later. Across the hall, down one door, Bruce
stopped and turned the knob, waving him in. Lex stepped into a bathroom, the
largest he'd ever seen.
The tub was a pool, rectangular and sunken into
the tiled floor, at least five feet deep, maybe more. Steam rose from the water,
fogging an antique, dappled mirror that ran the length of one wall.
Lex took a deep breath of the moist heat and
smirked. "Well, that's one way to get clean."
"Yeah. Here." Bruce tapped his arm
and turned back to the hallway, pulling the bath door shut behind them. He went
back across the paisleyed carpet of the hall to the room next to his own, though
it seemed miles away from the Bruce's door.
Lex stepped inside, taking in the deep scarlet
of cherry furnishing, polished to a gleaming shine. Everything had an oriental
feel, from slim, intricately carved vanity to huge, finely detailed headboard.
Marble covered table surfaces and shone brilliantly on an antique wash basin
that stood stately in one corner.
The carpet was plush and his shoes sunk into
it as he walked further into the room. He set his suitcase by the open closet
door and turned to see Bruce still standing in the doorway.
"This is great, Bruce. Really great."
Lex took a step towards the bed, considering hopping up onto the inviting mattress,
and stopped himself. "So you're next door, huh?"
Bruce looked around the room and frowned. "Are
Lex looked over his shoulder at something Bruce
was focusing on, then shook his head. "No, I'm actually…" He stripped
off his jacket and tossed it on the bed for proof. "…pretty warm. Are you?"
Raised eyebrows and a vague look of confusion
answered him. "Cold? No."
The room shrunk as they stood there, Lex waiting
and Bruce just watching him wait. The dark ceiling and walls closed in on them,
urging Lex to break the tension. Finally, Bruce turned and started out the door.
"Let's get cleaned up. Alfred will announce dinner in about an hour."
The door closed solidly behind Bruce and Lex
stood there in stunned silence. "Let's get cleaned up?" In *that*
Clothes landed half-folded, miraculously all
in one pile on the bed, shoes tumbled off and socks peeled and shoved into them,
underwear… on for the trip across the hall. But beside his bed, folded neatly
and de-tagged was a thick robe, just what he needed. He wasn't even sure it
had been there five seconds ago, but Christ, maybe it hadn't been. Who cared?
He slipped it on, belted it, reached underneath and stepped out of his boxers,
then padded across the hall.
The surface of the pool-bath was still, the
room empty except for ghostly tendrils of steam that spun slow weaves in front
of the lighted sconces around the room. Two pillars swirled with mosaic tile
pictures, around and around from slate floor to dark stone ceiling. Lex circled
them, following the storyline of a man up and around from birth to death, watching
the boy grow and learn, face adversity. Win. Lose. Find happiness and finally
die with a dignity that touched some bundle of nerves at the back of Lex's throat.
Bruce stepped in and Lex coughed behind his
fist, backing away from the miniature tile mural and casually sitting down next
to the water, pushing the edges of his robe back a little, his feet tentatively
sinking into the clear hazy warmth of the pool. Bruce brought over two massive
towels and laid them next to the water, then pulled off his own robe. Naked,
toned and dark, muscles flexing with careful, easy control. Eyes holding Lex's
as he slid down through the perfect surface of the water, disturbing the glassy
reflection and their gaze breaking as Bruce dropped his eyelids, dipping under.
He came up with a quick sputter, swiped the
water from his face and smiled up at Lex, his hands reaching as he kicked toward
the wall where Lex sat. Reaching for Lex's legs, his thighs, so casually that
they might have done this a hundred times in a hundred other lives, and Lex
inched forward, leaning down and bracing his hands on the edge of the pool as
Bruce's chest brushed against his knees.
Bruce's hands left wet prints on his bare thighs
when they moved to unfasten the loose knot of his robe belt. The soft fabric
slid open along his skin, letting in the steam, the heat of the air. Bruce's
arms stretched up, fingers slick as they inched the robe off Lex's shoulders,
let it fall to the tile. "The water's fine."
Lex nodded slowly, smiling softly, carefully.
Bruce's hands slid up his thighs and curved behind him, urging him forward.
Lex scooted off the wall and fell slowly into the pool. Bruce stepped back in
the water, giving him room, eyes downcast and fingers trailing through the water
as Lex settled.
"Do you-" Bruce shook his head, pushed
him firmly, silencing him. Lex's back scraped against the wall behind him as
Bruce pinned him, a wet thumb wiping across his lips.
Mouth on his like he'd come home after a long
trip, like 'long time no see' didn't even come close and Lex closed his eyes
and drifted in the water and arms holding him. Sweat ran down his temple, tickling
along the bottom of his ear and sliding down his neck. He sank down until the
sweet hot water lapped at their lips, and he tasted the purity of earth on Bruce's
He floated on the fog, then sucked in a breath
when Bruce backed off a little, hands tightening on Bruce's ribs. "Shit.
Your parents. What if they-"
He regretted it the instant he'd said it, regretted
it more as Bruce looked into the water and scoffed, shaking his head. "They're
not here, Lex."
But of course, the mood was ruined by the thought
of parents. Bruce pushed away from him and reached for a soap dish on the opposite
side of the pool, climbing out and heading around a corner. The spray of a shower
hissed down on the other side of the wall Bruce had disappeared behind.
Lex scrubbed a hand over his face. Fuck.
Bruce wasn't long in the shower, and Lex stepped
around him for his turn, soaping and rinsing quickly, coming out for his towel.
The room was empty.
Two lonely hours later, Bruce opened the door
to his room and bid him come to dinner. So he walked a half step behind, trying
not to be obvious about staring at the manor. His tongue itched with unasked
questions about the tapestries and artifacts hanging on the walls. He stopped
short of craning his neck to see the family crest on a plate of armor. Bruce
was striding, taking steps that made Lex feel like he was jogging. He caught
Bruce's elbow at the top of the stairs and jerked him to a halt.
"Hey. I'm sorry about earlier." Not
that he really knew what he was apologizing for, but he meant it anyway.
Bruce stared at him blankly for a moment, shook
his head, dismissing his apology out of hand. "I'm not sorry, Lex. I'm
And that was how dinner went, too. Brisk, short
answers to any attempts at conversation. Bruce dove into his dinner, eating
heartily, almost ravenously and didn't seem to notice that Lex only picked at
his plate. He drank enough to fill his stomach though. More than enough, even
though Alfred's eyebrows raised at every refill. After the second course, he's
stopped trying to talk and started dreading his untimely arrival at Luthor Estate.
His father would be amused.
He pushed his plate back and scooted his chair
from the table, standing before Bruce could finish his last swallow.
Bruce looked at him like he was speaking Swahili,
then nodded and smiled. Smiled.
Bruce nodded again and went back to his food.
Trying to salvage some dignity, Lex smirked
and shrugged at Alfred, who quickly looked away.
The storm blew in hard and fast, pounding the
manor with fat drops and smooth, frozen balls that pinging and panged on the
steeples somewhere above him. He laid awake, his already-shallow sleep completely
lost to the sound of the growing fury outside his windows. The wind whipped
against the ancient panes of stained glass and hail beat the stone walls.
His eyes closed, he wished that the temperature
would drop suddenly and the storm would turn silent and more effective, penning
him up in the manor with Bruce with feet of snow and ice. He wouldn't have to
decide then, to consider that this was a mistake and he belonged in his usual
isolated ward of Luthor Estate. Ward was right, too. Between his father's convoluted
"lessons" and the whispers of his long-dead mother that permeated
the night air around all her favorite things, he felt insane there, so out of
control and out of touch with reality that half the time he gave up trying to
resist the pull of his father's twisted ideals.
It became a game in his mind. Pros and cons
of each oversized sanitarium. Wayne manor, creepy. Luthor estate, cold. Wayne
manor, fascinating. Luthor estate, familiar. Wayne manor, decadent bath. Luthor
Lex started up out of bed at the sound - a roaring
of wind against the house, the clatter and splitting of wood, the tinkling of
glass on stone. It was close, so close that he immediately looked at his own
windows. They were sound though, and he was on his feet and down the hall, hastily-donned
robe trailing open behind him, nudity a half-second thought behind Bruce.
Bruce's door was shut, but not locked. He burst
in and staggered back, the ice of wind and rain spraying across his bare stomach
and thighs, stinging his ankles as he clutched the robe around his body and
knotted the belt at his waist.
He charged in, feet dancing deftly around broken
glass. Bruce was standing bare and bold two feet from the wall, room lights
blaring out into the night through the gaping fractured window.
Lex covered the last few feet slowly, one hand
out, half reaching for and half cautious about Bruce's clenched fist. A sliver
of glass had found the indentation between his knuckles and Lex carefully took
the hand in his own, thumb rubbing over the cut, freeing the glass and smearing
the blood there. Bruce hadn't moved, hadn't blinked.
"I'll call Alfred." No response. "Bruce,
you can stay in my room - in another room. It's okay."
He couldn't think, couldn't decide what Bruce
would want him to do. Ran his palms up and down Bruce's arms, the skin so cool
that his clammy hands felt hot against it.
But it did almost nothing to warm the oddly
pale skin. He glanced over his shoulder at the ruined window, shivering and
wondering that Bruce's body wasn't shaking in violent protest of the exposure.
Lex covered strong shoulders with his hands, stepping in between Bruce and the
rush of frozen air and rain, his scalp tightening with the blast of cold.
"Bruce? Bruce, can you hear me?"
Bruce's eyes looked at his forehead, then dropped
to the floor. Lex looked down and saw blood splashing - God, splatting in fat
drops from Bruce's other fist.
Unresponsive but not protesting his soft commands,
Bruce opened the hand at Lex's urging, unclenching his fingers, letting Lex
turn it over and inspect. It wasn't as bad as it looked, the cuts superficial
but long and oozing blood.
He didn't know what else to do, just lifted
the corner of his robe and pressed it easy against the wounds, gently wiping
away glass and blood both. The hand yanked out of his and Bruce jerked and sucked
in a breath.
Eyes wide and wet, Bruce shook violently. He
stumbled back from the window, dragging Lex with him as if Lex was the one who
needed saving. He stopped abruptly as Lex clutched his arms.
He seemed horrified, seeing Lex for the first
time with fear-stricken eyes, moving Lex aside to see the window, eyes unreadable
as he took it all in - blood, glass and Lex. "I was dreaming. I- God."
Lex shivered at the desperation and panic coming
from him. "There's a storm. It was just a nightmare."
Bruce shook his head and gestured at the window,
voice almost inaudible over the wind and rain. "I didn't - I was dreaming."
Lex rubbed his hand up Bruce's arm again. "Shh,
it's okay. I've got you."
Bruce seemed to lose inches as he shrank down
from the shock. Mindless of the piercing bits stinging the bottoms of his feet,
Lex wrapped an arm around his waist and guided him to the hallway, swallowing
the urge to turn and run.
But behind them, the storm raged on, whipping
curtains and chiming more glass to the floor of Bruce's room, making too much
noise to go unnoticed for long. Feeling completely surreal, he urged Bruce to
lean against the wall, one hand quickly touching his frigid face, then raced
back into Bruce's room, pulling the thick bedding from the mattress and rolling
it in his arms, stuffing it into the broken window. It bought them time and
gave Bruce the chance to avoid awkward explanations. Bedding and windows were
more easily replaced than dignity or secrets.
At the door, he quickly lifted his feet one
by one to brush the stuck glass from the bottoms, then hurried back to the hallway.
Back to the blank stare on Bruce's face. The
placid, childlike unawareness that made Lex's heart beat too fast and his lungs
squeeze tight on every exhale. Bruce wasn't supposed to be like this - and he
had no idea what to do.
The fact was, he was a mess.
They both were.
Lex opened his bedroom door and led Bruce slowly
inside, his hand held up close to his chest like a broken wing. Uninjured arm
around Lex's shoulders, Bruce was heavy with silent carelessness.
The bed seemed inviting, a warm cloud of dried
blood velvet to warm the life back into Bruce. The extra lights he turned on
were harsh but seemed to draw the cold from his body. He worked fast, swiping
at the stray spots of blood, carefully pulling glass from Bruce's hand, wincing
for Bruce since he didn't. The wounds dried and clean and dressed, Lex laid
the wrapped hand gently on the mattress and climbed in beside Bruce, starting
at the marble-cold chill of Bruce's skin against his own.
Lex was warm, had maybe worked himself warm,
but Bruce hadn't gained a degree. Lex reached for Alfred's bell, knowing the
old man would know exactly what to do, then hesitated. The cuts were fine, not
deep or threatening. And maybe Bruce would resent Lex for exposing his… whatever
this was to Alfred. As quiet and distant as Bruce remained even with Lex, he
knew Bruce wasn't the kind to do things for attention, not overtly or otherwise.
So he lowered his hand from the string and untied
his belt. He opened his robe wide over both of them as he crawled on top of
Bruce, reaching back to pull the coverlet up over them. Thighs straddling thighs,
belly tightening, Lex laid down, pressing himself - his body heat - along Bruce's
He tucked his chin down beside Bruce's neck,
eyes closed and face buried in thick pillow, body still as he could hold it
while somehow managing to breathe. The taut flex of every muscle in his body
began to take its toll. He ached with the effort to remain perfectly still,
to not feel the cool flesh against his own, goose bumps rising all over his
body as Bruce's skin drew warmth and reflected it between them.
After an eternity he saw the deep red of the
lights he'd left on behind his closed lids and opened them slowly, hands digging
into the sheets for balance as he pushed up just a little, reaching over to
flick off the overheads and turn off the bedside lamp.
He smiled down at the body beneath him, between
his open arms and open thighs. Bruce was a comfortable and solid presence, chest
rising and falling, lifting him up and letting him down in the regular, deep
rhythm of sleep. Skin flushed with warmth and plaint against his own, Lex smiled
softly and pushed further up, hoping to slip to the side and find a less presumptuous
place to sleep.
As he slid up and over, Bruce stirred, his big
hands closing quickly on Lex's hips, stilling him. Dark eyes caught his and
he couldn't move again, but for different reasons than before. Hot under the
soft covers, they breathed carefully through the minutes, cocooned and sealed
against any intrusion but thought.
Plenty of that to be had though, as Lex's mind
jumped from concern to thrill to fear and back again. Hips lined up against
Bruce's, his body reacted, blood pumping hard in his ears and veins, rushing
down to meet Bruce's already thick suggestion. He didn't need a rock of hips
lifting him in a gentle roll to assure him.
It was there though, just in case he did need
it, like he asked for it and God, maybe he had when he wasn't listening, when
all he could hear was the frantic voice in his head whispering no and yes and
run, get out, leave. Stay. Go.
Bruce was too much for him, in every way.
The hips undulated again, rolling slowly up
and down, up and down, and he let them, let Bruce, sliding skin against skin
so slowly. Flesh aching and pulling, dry and rough as he rode the strokes of
Bruce's length against his own. They hissed whispers, Bruce's broken voice moaning
so softly it sounded like a child's desperate plea.
He's always lost with Bruce, every preconceived
idea, every life lesson tossed out the window. Senseless and chaotic, and he
never cared. If Bruce hadn't given this so freely, he probably would have begged
to be erased, wiped clean and imprinted with this, this instead of Luthor pride
and Luthor tactics and Luthor bitterness.
He looked down as Bruce's hands shifted him
to a better spot, his hips hurting where fingers dug sharply into the recesses
beside the bones. Lex pressed harder, laying his full weight into the rubbing,
pushing down on every stroke. Bruce released him, gauze scratching along his
bare skin as palms pressed lines to his shoulders and fingers on his chin redirected
Those untelling eyes, secretive and revealing,
if he could just grasp what they were trying to say. It was right there, under
the cover of a language he couldn't understand. Like listening to French opera
in a German playhouse. He could discern the meanings, the requests and allowances,
the acquiescence and offerings, but the reasoning, the subtleties were lost
to him. He refused to look away, refused to give up the effort to decipher every
nuance of emotion and need.
Until underneath him, Bruce tensed and stopped.
Fingers dug in between Lex's ribs and he drew in a deep breath, stilling his
movements, anxiously looking down between them, then remembering his quest and
catching Bruce's eyes again.
Shifting his hips just enough, just that much,
he pleaded with everything inside him, mind racing to remember where he'd seen
a jar of something they could use, heart pumping out the frail thick beats of
held breath and hope. So close, it would be so easy. They were already almost
there. He slid a fraction of an inch up Bruce's length, the tip fitting against
him. He let go of Bruce's eyes for just a second, just long enough to close
his own and swallow the fear that crept into the desire.
When he opened his eyes, he saw it there, heard
Bruce's eyes say, "yes," felt the fingers dig further in between his
ribs, but it was Bruce's voice that registered crushing pain.
"No. I - no."
Heart in his throat and head shaking in a backwards
agreement, issuing his own belated refusal, Lex slipped sideways and lay on
his shrunken chest beside Bruce. A hand pushed him onto his side and he opened
his eyes and frowned his embarrassed apology, silently kicked himself for being
Whatever Bruce had gone through in front of
that window, it couldn't be remedied with a fuck, no matter how genuinely it
had been… wanted.
Stupid. Young, so damn naïve of him. Lex
tucked his arm under the pillow and closed his eyes so he didn't have to look
into eyes that were older than his own would ever be.
Bruce's big hand rubbed gently up and down his
side, cupping the curve of muscle, trailing onto his stomach with delicate,
chilling softness. The backs of fingers feathered on his cock and the bed dipped
beside him, tilting him a little, bringing heated flesh against his again. He
opened his eyes and watched Bruce lick his lips and look down between them.
Jerked as Bruce's hand engulfed his cock alongside his own, wrapping in a tight
glove of warmth around them both. Tugging and squeezing them together in the
best way, hard and tight, fast strokes revving him up and forcing his head back
and his breath out in long, desperate moans.
Quick strokes turned impossibly fast, their
now-slick skin sliding instead of rasping, gliding and slipping along. Their
hips rocked in sharp, sure thrusts, falling into a matched cadence of back and
forth, in and out, pumping hard. Harder and Lex fisted the pillow under his
head, squeezed his eyes shut as Bruce's mouth caught his, shoulder sticking
and peeling in a regular rhythm against his own on every upstroke, the predictable
repetition blinding and delicious.
Lips took his, Bruce licking inside, slowly
opening his mouth and sending warm coursing down his spine. Tongue tasting his
moans, fist and cock straining on his own, he broke open. Cleaved and held together,
he split apart, slicking Bruce's fist and pressing his uncontrollable cry into
the sweat-damp pillow beneath their heads.
Bruce's voice filled the room, echoing in the
fragile silence, teeth finally sinking into Lex's shoulder. He pumped his hips,
taking over the rhythm as Bruce's fist tightened around them and he shuddered
and came. They shook and shivered under the velvet until Bruce's grip slacked
and a slippery hand painted a line to his back, wrapping around him, pulling
him neatly into the curve of Bruce's body. His face sweaty, breath hot against
Bruce's stubbled neck, Lex forced his body to unclench, to sink into the unexpected
embrace that seemed more intimate than anything else they'd done.
One foot brushed heavily along his calf muscle
and Lex grinned inside, swallowing the girlish bubble of relief.
He concentrated on Bruce's deep breathing, wondering
what technique he was using to calm his energized, spent body, his exhausted
mind. He felt for the blackness of sleep and inched into a more comfortable
position against Bruce.
Bruce wasn't difficult or strange. He was begging
to be figured out and resisting any attempts at infiltration out of instinct
or fear or both.
And that was fine. Lex could work with resistance.
He formed a black circle in his mind and kept
all thoughts from entering the circle, falling off to the sound and feel of
Bruce's deep, soothing breaths beneath him.
He'd woken up a couple of times during the night,
Bruce's arm a dead weight, wrapped around his shoulders, holding him tightly,
but it was gone when he moved to stretch in the soft morning light.
He moved his legs under the thick covers, cautiously
sliding his foot over to rub Bruce's shin. He met smooth cotton but no Bruce.
He rolled over and sank into the mattress, groaning frustration into his pillow.
An hour later, the dull fractal haze of morning peeled his eyes back open, despite
his repeated attempts to will it away.
The bath was empty and cool, but droplets of
water clung to the walls of the shower, and a damp towel was crumpled on the
vanity. Lex brushed his teeth fast, eyeing the towel like a glass of wine he
was too young to drink. He turned to get in the shower, but the towel was in
his hands, pressed to his face before he could get there. He closed his eyes
and inhaled the moist Bruce-scent.
He managed to leave the towel on the counter,
though his shower was long and hot, full of wished-for sensation and memories
and slightly paranoid glances at the vaulted ceiling to check for watching lenses.
He'd grown up in his father's house, after all. The rush of water and the taste
of Bruce on his tongue, he leaned against the cool tile of the shower and brought
himself off hard and fast, desperate for Bruce's hand.
Drying himself, he swallowed that desperation
along with the bile that rose in his throat. He couldn't need Bruce this much,
couldn't let his judgment slip at the thought of warm skin and warm breath.
He shook his head at the mirror on his way out the door, tossing his towel in
the corner on top of Bruce's.
Alfred met him at the bottom of the sweeping
staircase, white-gloved hands offering him a small silver tray with a steaming
mug of coffee.
"Alfred, you're a God." He took the
coffee and smirked when he saw it was already prepared to his liking, with just
enough cream to take the edge off the black. He took a sip and began walking
towards the dining room, butler trailing at his side.
"Master Bruce had a prior engagement this
morning. He requested that I see to your needs personally." When Lex glanced
at him, Alfred looked confident but uncertain.
"That was thoughtful of him. If you point
me in the direction of the kitchen, I'm sure I can find something myself."
"Actually, sir, I've taken the liberty
of ordering breakfast for you." Alfred quickened his last few steps and
swung the door open for Lex.
The butler followed him through the door, then
stepped around the table, exiting through a door on the opposite side of the
"Of course you did," he murmured as
he sat down.
Alfred returned with three servants in quick
succession behind him, all bearing silver platters. Fruit, eggs, a variety of
But no Bruce. And he hated eating alone.
"If that will be all, sir-"
"Alfred, my name is Lex. Call me Lex, please.
And I hate eating alone." He kicked the chair next to him out from the
table. "Have a seat."
The butler hesitated, waved a dismissal to the
other servants, and took the seat Lex had offered.
Picking up a teapot that crowded alongside the
breakfast platters, Lex reached for the mug on the saucer at Alfred's place
setting, righting it and tipping the small steaming kettle into it. "You
like tea, don't you?"
It was awkward, sure, but Alfred's face softened
from its normal rigidity as he took the first sip from his cup. "I believe
it's required by my gene pool, Master Lex."
"So it's 'Master Lex,' huh? That's the
best I'm going to get from you?" Lex popped a grape into his mouth and
spread his napkin on his lap.
Alfred cocked his head at his tea, apparently
searching for the right words. "There is a certain level of order here,
Master Lex, and I oversee that order. I take great pride in my duties."
"It's a very smoothly-run household, Alfred.
Much more orderly than Luthor estate." Lex smiled and winked over a forkful
of eggs, reveling in loosening the tight constraints that held the man together.
They ate and drank in indifferent silence until
Lex couldn't resist the question any longer.
"So where is Bruce this morning? A hot
breakfast date in the city?" It was stupid, really, to insinuate anything
of the sort. As if implying Bruce had a relationship with someone else would
detract attention from the broken window and blood-dappled floor of Bruce's
room or the joint baths and shared beds Lex was sure Alfred knew all about.
Lex shrank just a little under Alfred's disapproving
glance, biting into a slice of peeled grapefruit.
"Not quite. He's meeting with an acquaintance
of his father's."
Lex took another bite and tried to pry as casually
as he could. "Are Mr. and Mrs. Wayne breakfasting with them? I didn't realize
they were back in town."
Alfred swallowed hard and choked behind a white
glove, eyes wide and watering. Lex reached over to pat him on the back and Alfred
raised a hand in protest, wiping his eyes on his napkin and sitting straighter
in his chair, collecting himself quickly.
"My apologies, Master Lex. I've just recalled
a task I need to attend." Alfred stood and gathered his mug and saucer,
then paused and stared at Lex. It was unsettling, that stare. Like Alfred was
reading him atom by atom, weighing him.
"Thank you for the tea." Alfred cleared
his throat. "Master Bruce will return by lunch."
The morning crept by, the manor so quiet that
every footfall echoed against the carved wood and endless expanse of walls and
hallways. Lex didn't venture down any of them, though. The lack of Bruce's presence
made the place foreign and intimidating. Larger too, somehow. It whispered secrets
Lex wasn't sure he wanted to discover. That particular Luthor trait - unquenchable
curiosity - hadn't taken root in him, apparently.
Instead of exploring, he sat in a drawing room
of sorts, surrounded by the glassy eyes of proudly-gotten kills and the slick
comfort of old leather. He fingered a divot, bronze and smooth under his touch
and sank back into the armchair, closing his eyes. The paisley of the carpet
chased behind his eyelids and he watched the swirls of color, feeling himself
He started awake at the sound of the footsteps
and voices coming from the hallway.
"That man makes my skin crawl, Alfred.
How my father ever- If it wasn't necessary, I would end our "amiable"
acquaintance and beat the shit out of him."
"Of course, Master Bruce. Master Lex is
asleep in the lounge."
The butler's tone inferred volumes, and apparently
Bruce noticed, too.
"I might join him. It was a long night."
"I'm well aware of that, sir."
Lex frowned at the blatant implications of Alfred's
words, holding his breath when the footsteps stilled.
"Something you'd care to say, Alfred?"
"As a matter of fact, Master Bruce, I believe
Master Lex should be informed of your… history."
That particular small laugh of Bruce's always
sounded more like a low warning growl than amusement. "And what history
would that be?"
"Your parents, sir. He doesn't know."
"No, he doesn't." The click of one
pair of shoes on the wooden floor stepped closer to the room Lex sat in, then
"His ignorance could become… awkward -
"I'll take care of it."
"If I may, sir, I have arranged something
for this afternoon." The butler's voice lowered so Lex had to strain to
hear it. "Lunch with your parents? I really do believe that it is imperative
"Fine. We'll leave immediately. Tell Robert
I'll be driving, so he can take the rest of the afternoon off." The door
to the room creaked open.
Lex swallowed hard in anticipation of seeing
Bruce and forced himself to relax back in the chair, resisting the urge to tug
at his shirt and straighten it from its sleep-twisted position. He closed his
eyes and purposefully drew in long, slow breaths.
The light on his closed eyes dimmed and he felt
Bruce looming over him.
"Good. You're awake."
Lex opened his eyes and smiled up at him, hands
clenched tight on the arms of the chair so they wouldn't reach out. "Just."
"Come on, we're going into the city."
Lex stood up, following him from the room, trailing
after him to the coatroom. He glanced down at himself, creased and rumpled from
his nap, and grabbed Bruce's arm as he reached for their coats. "Shouldn't
I change first?"
Bruce slowly looked him over, eyes lingering
on his chest before rising to meet his own. "No, you're fine."
The ride was shorter than Lex had expected and
ended abruptly at an iron gate. A rush of ache spread from forehead to neck
as the blood drained from Lex's face. He sat rigid on the seat as Bruce spoke
into an intercom and the bars swung slowly inward, old metal screaming on rusty
Lex scanned the rows of headstones as they drove
on the single lane through the cemetery, embarrassment and regret weighing in
his chest. They pulled to a stop and got out.
Bruce opened the back door to get their lunch,
and Lex leaned his arms on the roof and shook his head. "Bruce..."
"It's weird - I know. Alfred has some romantic
notions when it comes to my parents." He held out a blanket to Lex, and
he took it, falling into step beside Bruce as they wove their way through the
labyrinth of headstones. "He usually packs a good meal, though."
Lex stuck close as they walked, careful of his
steps, the hard, frozen earth crunching under the soles of his shoes.
"They're over there." Bruce gestured
at a pair of marble obelisks that jutted up from long-recovered soil.
Lex nodded and tucked his hands in the pockets
of his jacket, the blanket under his arm. Bruce squatted and brushed the engraved
names of Martha and Thomas Wayne clean with a gloved finger. Lex shivered under
his wool - he knew the grainy texture of headstone marble all too well.
"My mom-" It just came out, like too
many things did around Bruce, and he froze there, mouth puffing heat into the
dry cold air between them. Bruce smiled gently at him - worse than a slap in
the face, really - and Lex took a deep breath. "- you probably already
"I was old enough to read." Bruce
cocked his head and smiled. "And you *are* a Luthor."
It was obvious, but it needed to be said. Lex
unfolded the blanket and spread it quickly, the flannel snapping in the wind
that seemed to pick up as he spoke. "I'm an ass, Bruce. I… didn't know."
"They've been gone a long time." Bruce
sat on the blanket and started unpacking containers and cloth-wrapped bundles.
He looked up at Lex, who stood frozen in the icy wind that whistled through
trees and headstones around him. "Have a seat - they won't bite."
Jesus, sometimes Bruce had no tact at all. Lex
cringed. His own mother's grave was too fresh to be made light of, but then
again, maybe time dulled all pain, healed all wounds. Maybe someday he'd be
cracking jokes there, too.
Lex sat down and reached for the wine, silently
blessing Alfred for his European attitude toward the propriety of fine wine
at all significant meals. He found a corkscrew beside Bruce's knee and pressed
it into the cork, the sharp point sinking deeper as he turned it.
"I'm surprised Alfred lets you drink and
Bruce tore a corner off the round of bread in
his hand and shook his head. "Might as well be water to me. And you too,
if you sample half of what you buy for the guys at school."
Lex grinned and poured their glasses, handing
one to Bruce, then raised his own for a toast. He thought about his usual, "health,
wealth and happiness," but given the circumstances, he settled on, "To
"To absent parents…" Bruce clinked
glasses with him and drank deeply before red, wine-wet lips parted in a wide
smile. "…who would probably fall over dead if they saw me picnicking on
their graves with a Luthor."
The days passed lazily in the manor; time mattered
so little that Lex began leaving his watch on the nightstand each morning. His
wrist felt naked every once in awhile without it, but he'd almost broken the
habit of checking it periodically.
The window in Bruce's room had been boarded
for a day, then the glass replaced and all traces of the break erased. They
didn't talk about it, but on the second night after they'd lunched - well, *over*
Mr. and Mrs. Wayne, Lex crept out of his room and into Bruce's, having spent
too many frustrated hours tossing around in his own bed. He opened the door
to Bruce's room, listened at the door for the deep breath of sleep. Bruce was
silent - lungs frozen mid-breath, and Lex hesitated there, just inside.
But leaving wasn't an option now, not when Bruce
knew he was there, so he padded softly across the room and slipped into the
bed. Instantly, Bruce pulled him in close, drew the covers up over them both
and Lex tucked himself in, grateful up against warm, bare skin.
The heat under thick down radiated through Lex's
body. His head swam and his hand squeezed Bruce's arm. He tried for about a
minute to keep from moving against the hard body that touched everywhere along
his own, then gave up completely. Eyes closed and body snaking slowly between
smooth bedding and strong limbs, Lex sank a hand into the mattress and pushed
himself over, on top of Bruce.
Thigh between his legs, still at first but then
moving and moving, rubbing hard up against him and he pushed down, rocked into
it, slid up and down under the firm direction of hands that held on, guided
him. The hard strength of Bruce's hand shoved down between them and covered
his cock, pressed it tight against Bruce's body. The smooth rock of Bruce's
arm pressed into Lex's stomach and he arched and fell, angular edges digging
in everywhere, his arms tucking under Bruce's body and holding on, just holding
on until the pulses stopped and faded.
Off, drifting somewhere between sleep and awake,
so far off that he couldn't fathom ever being that on again, but Bruce's length
jabbed hard between their stomachs and Lex moved his hips to feel it slide and
swell against his skin. The movement made them both tremble and cling, Lex's
fingers deep in solid spans of muscle and Bruce groaned, growled as Lex let
his weight go, let his body dig down into Bruce's, hips rocking and pushing,
arms pulling him tighter in, rolling them over. Bruce's heaviness spread out
along his body, Bruce hesitating, just lying there between Lex's legs, driving
Face buried and dewy against Bruce's neck, he
opened his mouth and sucked, bit, tore at a resisting, tight tendon, determination
turned into something feral, something wild and desperate for victory, for a
liquid admission from Bruce. He pushed up, moving that solid body, kicking it
into action and tensing thighs, ass, back, arms as Bruce responded, rubbing
and sliding along his belly, crying out against his scalp, jerking above him,
against him, arms so tight Lex couldn't breathe and didn't care, didn't want
to. Bruce shook the bed, shook every foundation under them until Lex ran a hand
into his hair, whispering quietly into the ear that mashed against his lips.
Bruce sagged on top of him, the surrender slick and fast, ripped instead of
coaxed this time, but fuck if Lex cared.
And so it went.
He'd never thought of himself as a cuddler,
but he slipped into Bruce's room - and his bed - every night after the manor
was quiet. After the first night, he arrived naked, alternately pleading for
and scared to death of the possibility that Bruce would move them further into
It hadn't come, though. Not yet.
They slept curled against each other, bodies
touching, Lex's hips always rocking more and more insistently back against the
curve of Bruce's body until Bruce's hand closed on his thigh, quieting him or
squeezing an encouragement. Either way, their breath eventually fell into a
single cadence until genuine exhaustion overwhelmed Lex and he drifted off.
Though he'd tried to outlast Bruce, fought harder against sleep every night,
Bruce never fell asleep before he did.
And every night, Lex was more willing to believe
something about himself that he'd never had occasion to even consider before.
Bit by bit, his will was being ground down to a fine dust that Bruce could obliterate
with the slightest breath of request. He'd begun this unsure and with every
night, came closer and closer to insisting that Bruce take him. What seemed
like a dangerous pleasure before was not even close to enough now.
When Lex awoke achingly hard, tucked impossibly
close into the round hollow of Bruce's hips on Christmas Eve morning, he decided
he wouldn't accept less than… well, he wouldn't accept the nightly ritual that
reduced him to dreaming of completion.
Bruce was up and gone before Lex managed to
get himself out of bed - as usual - out for his insane morning jog in the frigid
fog of Gotham's suburbs. Lex expected to be greeted by Alfred at the bottom
of the sweeping staircase after his shower, but the butler was nowhere to be
seen. Wondering at the inconsistency of his absence, Lex sought him out, pushing
open the swinging door between dining room and kitchen, only to find several
startled, flour-dappled faces staring wide-eyed back at him.
Lex smiled and reached for a banana on the counter,
shaking it at the cooks absently. "Seen Alfred?"
One of them pointed a doughy finger at the door
Lex had just come through and mumbled something about the study, so Lex turned
on his heel and went back the way he'd come.
The manor was different in daylight - the blacks
and browns somehow lifted to a gleaming warmth by stray ribbons of sunlight
that happened to penetrate thick curtains and filter in through the rough stained
glass of the decorative windows. The wood grains glowed, shiny golden stripes
glinting as they were highlighted.
He stepped through the dusty beams of light,
laying the banana on a likely-looking bowl of wax fruit, trusting that Alfred
- or some other servant - was sharp enough to deduce real from fake and take
care of it later.
A muffled voice stopped Lex in front of the
study door. "Begging your pardon, sir, but you must remain still for just
a moment longer."
"Yes, of course, Franklin. My apologies."
Lex pushed the door open and saw Bruce on a
pedestal, a man kneeling at his feet, smiling around pins that stuck like tiny
barbs from his lips.
Bruce looked up and Lex grinned. "Wasn't
the statue of David standing on that yesterday?"
"He lent it to me for the fitting."
Bruce smoothed a hand down the arm of his suit. "Don't go anywhere - you're
"Sir, if you please?" The tailor stretched
up and guided Bruce's hand firmly back to his side with a slightly impatient
Lex flopped into a leather chair and winked.
"Oh, I have no intention of leaving. This should be good."
"Good is an understatement - Franklin here
is the only one who's never made me bleed. Isn't that right, Franklin?"
The tailor mumbled something in French and Lex
laughed. "I think you're pushing your luck."
Bruce made a face and held still, watching the
tailor work on his pant cuffs. Lex caught sight of a second suit hanging on
a portable stand behind them.
"So what's the occasion, anyway?"
"The mayor's holiday party at the Cosmopolitan
The tailor turned back to his kit and Lex leveled
his gaze at Bruce. "I already had plans for tonight."
"What? Another chess tournament with Alfred?"
Bruce stepped off the riser and the tailor stood to help him carefully out the
painstakingly fitted jacket. With three steps Bruce towered over Lex. "What
are you up to now? Best of 35?"
Lex stood and glanced around Bruce, smiling
as the tailor stepped out of the room. His hands found Bruce's hips and pulled
them in to meet his own gentle nudge. "I may have hit a snag before, but
I know his moves now. I've got him all figured out."
"Have you?" Bruce's thumb brushed
along his chin seductively, dragging slowly over his lower lip as he whispered
in Lex's ear. "Then I'm sure you won't mind waiting until after the party
to… take him."
Lex swallowed his last lingering bit of pride
in the hopes that it would be gently caught and used against him in the best
way. "To be honest, I think I'd rather he take me."
The tailor cleared his throat as he came back
through the door and Bruce took a half-step back. As Lex turned to walk away,
Bruce caught his elbow and hissed into his ear, "I sincerely hope we're
not still talking about Alfred. Or chess."
Lex shook his head as he stepped behind the
oriental wood screen and the tailor handed him his suit.
The merriment could be felt in waves - and smelled
in a head-swimming cacophony of designer perfume - outside the Cosmopolitan
that night. Bruce had talked little in the backseat of the Rolls on the way,
and Lex had been content with the gaping silence only because he was preoccupied
with the beauty of Bruce, cleaned up, dressed to the nines, suit sleek and draping
perfectly on those broad shoulders, the slacks hugging along his thigh as it
brushed against Lex's at the apex of every turn.
Lex's own suit fit like a dream, for once not
too broad in the shoulder and not too long. For the first time, he didn't feel
shortened standing beside Bruce, who was only a few inches taller than him after
all. Something in Bruce's posture, some flaw Lex couldn't quite pinpoint, made
him seem like the teenager he was as they entered the hotel ballroom. The glitter
of candlelight on crystal and diamonds on ears on turning heads made Lex whistle
low and bump his elbow casually into Bruce's ribs. "The mayor sure knows
how to throw a party, huh?"
Bruce smiled tightly down at him, hands balled
in loose fists at his sides. Lex looked him up and down, spotting a small piece
of fuzz on his shoulder. As he reached to brush it off, Bruce's fingers closed
in a vice-grip on his wrist.
"What are you *doing*?" Growled through
clenched teeth within a forced smile.
Lex lowered his hand slowly, then reached out
to a passing waiter's tray and plucking a flute of champagne off of it. "You
have some lint on your shoulder."
Bruce scoffed and picked the lint off, tucking
his hands into his pockets. Lex waited and watched, but he made no move to even
make eye contact.
Instead, he nodded and smiled at an older woman
across the room that Lex vaguely recognized. "You might want to take care
of that stick up your ass while you're at it." He handed his glass to a
stunned Bruce and made a beeline for the woman as she started towards him.
They shook hands, then kissed on the cheek as
Lex tried desperately to recall her name. He didn't realize until she looked
expectantly over his shoulder that Bruce had followed him.
"Nice to see you again Mrs. Holden. How
"He's wonderful, Bruce - thanks for asking.
Still sacking quarterbacks and all that at Notre Dame. We're *dying* for him
to pick a major, but he's torn between business and engineering. How do you
and Mr. Luthor know one another?"
"Lex and I are at Excelsior together. We're
roommates, in fact."
It might have been some sort of twisted apology
- him hinting at their relationship to this woman - but Lex didn't spare him
"Well, you boys don't get into any trouble
up there, all right?"
"Of course, Mrs. Holden. Tell Joe 'hi'
The plump socialite already had her hand extended
to a man in Armani as Lex turned to face Bruce.
"Look, it's not you. You know that, right?"
Lex studied Bruce's face, really *looked* at
him for the first time since they'd left the manor. Bruce looked timid. Head
a couple inches lower than it usually was, shoulders curved inward, hands moving
nervously inside his pockets. And the fingers that had left an impression on
Lex's wrist had been clammy. "Stage fright? *You?*"
Bruce nodded quickly and looked around at their
"Didn't Alfred teach you *anything*, Bruce?"
At the look of confusion that answered him,
Lex grabbed an elbow and guided Bruce through the crowd to an alcove beside
the coatroom. Once they were settled in the shadowed archway, Lex put firm hands
on Bruce's shoulders and caught his eyes, forcing him to return the focus. "Do
you want to leave?"
"I can't. That friend of my father's-"
"The one you had breakfast with the other
"Right. He's here and he wants to see me.
It's kind of a thing - me being here in my father's place. They… expect me to
"They expect you to be more than just here,
Bruce." When Bruce looked away, eyes wide and a little wild as he stared
back into the party, Lex turned his chin back around to face him. "Don't
look out there. Look at me."
Bruce took a deep breath and stared at Lex,
who for once didn't flinch under the intensity of Bruce's complete attention.
"Good. Now listen. Crash course in social
gatherings. One: Don't drink too much - get a glass of water or club soda from
the bar, with ice, and carry that around. Sip it and no one will offer to get
you another drink the entire night. Stay sober and you'll stay clear. Two: Don't
tell them too much or too little. People are here to gather information. If
you give them too little, they'll make up the rest and if you give them too
much, they'll crucify you with it. Are you with me?"
A nod confirmed that Bruce was listening, but
the fingers clutching Lex's sleeve didn't let go.
"Okay. Three: No politics, religion or
sex. All three will get you into trouble. If someone in a small group initiates
the conversation, excuse yourself and get the fuck out of it before it begins.
Four: You are the most important person here. You own these people. You can
make them laugh or cry or cluck like chickens with the right words. Believe
that - convince yourself and you convince them."
"Cluck like chickens?" Skepticism
looked so damn good on those dark features.
Lex licked his lips and grinned. "Trust
me. And five: If all else fails, fake a headache or need for air and find me."
Bruce stopped smiling and grabbed Lex's arm.
"Find you? Wait. Aren't you going to be with me?"
Lex shook his head. "Give them too much
Bruce looked confused and glanced over his shoulder
at the crowd again. "But…"
"We can't exactly walk hand-in-hand, Bruce.
Do you want to advertise the fact that we're… whatever?"
"Together? But we came together. And I
told Mrs. Holden-"
"She's harmless. We're two little boys
playing dress up in her eyes. But you can bet there are more shrewd eyes here
Lex waited for a reaction, knowing that if any
of his words had sunk in, Bruce would straighten up and summon that cool, sharp
demeanor he naturally displayed when he wasn't trying to.
Two long, deep breaths later, his Bruce stood
before him, composed, almost confident-looking, head high enough to make Lex
feel short again. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching them and
slid his hands inside Bruce's jacket, his fingers playing across the nervous-tight
muscles beneath the pale blue of Bruce's shirt.
Bruce sucked in a breath, then smiled and wriggled
back, catching Lex's hand. He held it for a moment, rubbing his thumb over Lex's
knuckles before letting it fall. Then he turned back to the party.
Lex followed him out of the alcove and into
the buzzing merriment, then with one last encouraging smile, turned and lost
himself in the crowd.
The evening dragged by, one fake smile bleeding into the next until Lex's cheeks
ached with the effort. Another story about a beautiful daughter looking for
a prom date and Lex was going to run screaming from the ballroom. Then again,
the sight of Bruce debating something with the mayor himself left Lex puffed
up with an odd pride.
He floated on that for an hour before he'd caught
sight of Bruce again - this time flirting harmlessly with a little girl who
took his hand and dragged him, despite his adamant protests, to the dance floor,
only to stand on his feet while the two of them twirled around and around, her
golden hair fanning out as they glided between the other couples. The parents
- and several onlookers - were enchanted with him, as was Lex.
It wasn't a time or place for Lex to be anything
but understated and respectful, and both were exhausting when one's reputation
was usually enough to fill the dance card for the evening. Instead of potential
dates, he'd had to make do with slow-talking elderly men who reeked of cigars
He'd just escaped another cluster of oldsters
and ducked back into his handy-dandy alcove to sip his club soda and catch his
breath when he heard a voice he would have sworn belonged across the state.
He turned and saw the distinctly lanky figure of his father sweeping into the
group that he'd just extracted himself from. The group, coincidentally, included
the district attorney, who promptly excused himself and made his way to the
Lex smiled and shook his head. Only Lionel Luthor
would crash another city's holiday party. The mayor sidled up to Lionel, shaking
his hand and clapping him on the back. Unfortunately his gaze fell on Lex in
his hiding spot and the mayor waved him over, arm reaching out to reel him in
when he got close enough.
"Look who's here! The Luthors, in Gotham
City. Well, has Metropolis finally evicted you?" The mayor's round, ruddy
cheeks shone in the gleaming lights.
"On the contrary, Mr. Mayor. We've simply
outgrown Metropolis. Right, son?" Lionel led the others in a hearty laugh
and Lex drained his glass, jingling the ice cubes absently as Lionel moved to
wrap an arm around his shoulders.
"Looks like your well's run dry, Lex. We
can't have that." The mayor snapped his fingers at a passing waiter. "Get
him anything he wants."
Lionel leaned close to the mayor, effectively
sandwiching Lex between the two of them, then spoke loud enough for all in the
circle to hear, "I think you'll find that my son's poison is club soda,
The group erupted again, this time with Lex
at the butt of the joke. He felt his face heating and while the laughs were
still infectious, he ducked out of the clique and headed for the lobby.
Once in the cool air, Lex forced himself to
slow his breathing and collect his thoughts. Lionel, here in Gotham. He should
He found a chair that faced away from the ballroom
doors and sank into it, depositing his glass on the marble end table. The floor
shone in the soft lighting and Lex tensed as he heard the soft click of shoes
"Mommy, do we *have* to go? I'm not a bit
Lex twisted in his chair and winked at the yawning
little girl that Bruce had danced with. She waved at him covertly, hand at her
side so her mother wouldn't notice and he saluted her and gave her a big smile.
She giggled behind her hand and trailed after her mother, who was reaching back
absently for her.
His dance partner overdue for Saint Nicholas,
Bruce was probably ready to go. Besides, Lex was sure his father wouldn't miss
him if he disappeared early. Lex pushed up out of the chair and went to the
coatroom, retrieving his jacket and learning that Bruce had already gotten his
own. Lex looked around the lobby and just outside the hotel, but didn't see
him anywhere. A porter passed close enough for Lex to snag his sleeve and press
a bill into a gloved palm.
"Have you seen Bruce Wayne?"
The porter looked around nervously, then nodded
and whispered, "I believe he inquired about the view from the observation
"Which would be…"
"On the roof, sir. Access through the staff
Lex tucked another bill into the white glove.
"Did you say you're heading that way?"
The porter smiled and gestured for Lex to follow
The wind whipped tears into his eyes as he stepped
through the thick metal door onto the pebbled surface of the roof. His dress
shoes crunched on the gravel, giving away his presence before he had a chance
to surprise Bruce.
But Bruce didn't turn, didn't even acknowledge
Lex's arrival, not until he inched up beside Bruce at the edge of the roof,
the cement wall digging into his stomach and palms.
"I needed some air."
"Yeah, me too." Lex nodded at the
city below them, the lights of Gotham twinkling and blurring in the chill tears
that he blinked away as quickly as they came.
Bruce's eyes were watering, too, trailing from
the corners of his eyes back into his hairline, where the wind pushed them.
After a few silent, calming moments, Lex sighed.
"My father won't leave me alone."
Bruce's head jerked up and he looked at Lex
with a horrified expression. "I was just going to say the same thing."
"That my father's here? You saw him? Did
he say something to you?"
Bruce shook his head slowly, red lips parted
and puffing breath-clouds into the cold air. "No. I meant *my* father."
Lex stared into Bruce's eyes, raised his hand
to brush away the wind tears. "How…?"
"That man… the one I met for breakfast.
He wants something from me." Bruce tilted his head into Lex's palm and
Lex moved to face him, the city melting away beneath them.
Lex waited until Bruce prompted him with a pleading
"What does he want?"
"He wants my father's research. I have
it - all of it - in a safe place. He knows I have it and he wants it."
Bruce turned back to the city, pulling away from Lex's hand and gaze.
Lex could guess the answer, but Bruce needed
him to play this part right now. It was a more complicated, more delicate role
than the one he'd played all night. "He was your father's partner in a
medical practice, right? Why don't you just give it to him?"
"Because I know things about him that my
father didn't know." Bruce's face was a mask of anger. "I can't prove
anything without turning everything over, or I'd go to the police or FBI - somebody."
Lex raised his eyebrows at that, a smile escaping
before he saw that Bruce wasn't pulling his leg. He shrank under his own disbelief,
embarrassed to have doubted Bruce even for a second. "It can't be that
bad. Go to the cops - I mean, really, how much clout could a doctor-"
"A geneticist before my father knew him.
He worked for the government." Bruce shook his head. "As far as I
know, my father never knew that, either."
Lex crossed his arms over his chest and turned
his back on the view, leaning against the cold cement wall. "Oh. Well couldn't
you fake the documents? Feed him practically nothing until he gets bored and
"You're not listening. He knows what I
"I am listening, Bruce, but how could he
be sure that you have what he's looking for?"
Bruce grabbed his arms and shook him. *Shook
him*. Lex, shocked into silence, didn't resist, even when Bruce was an inch
from his face, yelling. "Christ, Lex, don't you get it? I *told* him. I
fucking *told* him everything. Until yesterday, he even knew where I kept them."
Lex opened his hands on Bruce's chest, pushing
gently and holding Bruce's eyes as he extricated himself slowly from Bruce's
grasp. The breath knocked out of him, he sucked in air that froze in his lungs
and made him cough.
"Lex, God. I didn't mean to... Are you
Lex held up a hand to keep Bruce at bay, nodding
and breathing slowly, regaining composure and breath at the same time. "I'm
fine. Just... let's get somewhere where we can think. Home, maybe."
An arm wrapped cautiously around his shoulder
and led him to the door of the roof, then guided him into the employee elevator.
They rode down in silence, Lex sweating in the leather and wool that shielded
him from the roof's chill.
Lex stopped by the front desk and scribbled
a note of polite regret to his father, then tucked it into an envelope with
instructions that it be delivered to Lionel as soon as Lex was out the door.
The hotel doorman had Bruce's car brought around
and Lex climbed in first, pulling off his jacket and gloves before Bruce was
even seated next to him.
They rode home in near silence. Lex told himself
it was the driver's presence that warranted all that quiet, but something deep
down told him Bruce hadn't meant to share a word of this with him.
Going home didn't seem to encourage conversation. They sat in pen-scratching
and paper-rustling silence in the false summer-orange glow of the library's
fireplace, not talking.
After getting more details from Bruce - specifically
the requests - or threats as they may have been - that the man had made, when
and how he expected Bruce to deliver. He'd given Bruce one week to gather all
the materials and even instructed Bruce not to break the seals on anything before
he turned the documents over to him.
McMurray had planned this well, first coaxing
the information out of Bruce under the pretenses of friendship and curiosity,
then turning the tables on Bruce and insisting that the property was half his
and should be restored to him immediately. Bruce had even checked with his lawyer,
who agreed that most courts would side with McMurray and order just what McMurray
But Bruce resisted gently out of selfish sentimentality,
wanting to keep all of his father's life work under lock and key until he'd
had time to peruse it himself, when he could understand the terminology and
make sense of his father's discoveries.
Bruce had opened only one sealed file and known
he couldn't just hand it over to McMurray, a known power-freak who repeatedly
intimidated Bruce's father when they were partners. The document had contained
theories that Bruce could only half-follow, hypotheses that, if correct, could
be a speeding train on the track of applied genetic mutation.
The world as they knew it would cease to exist
if men could be altered easily, inexpensively, so drastically that morals would
likely never enter the mind of the mutated subject again. How many men could
resist the urge to exploit that much power? And McMurray certainly couldn't
be trusted on moral grounds; that much was clear from his *published* work in
the field of genetics, let alone the rumors that buzzed through the medical
circles that Bruce had grown up in because of his father's popularity and fortune.
So with crumpled balls of paper on the floor
and Bruce writing in blocky capitals across a fresh sheet, Lex closed his eyes
and pushed all logical thought from his mind, grounding himself in the here
and now for the first time in hours, not worrying about the fate of Mr. Wayne's
research or the safety of mankind.
One thought kept coming back to his tired mind,
a soothing promise of dissipating tension and release. Socked feet tucked under
Bruce's thigh on the leather sofa, Lex glanced over the top of his own notepad
and sighed. He shifted on the couch, hoping to pull a little of that ever-steady
concentration in his direction, but Bruce's eyes didn't leave the paper at which
he was staring blankly.
It had been hours, lifetimes since that morning,
when he'd hinted to Bruce about alternate plans for tonight. Plans that now
seemed too insignificant and well… unlikely to even hope for. But as he dug
his feet in further under Bruce's thigh, Bruce glanced up at him, smiling and
reaching automatically to rub Lex's leg, the intense-thought spell seemingly
The clock tolled midnight and Lex couldn't help
but grin, a long-lost Christmas morning bubble of excitement and anxious energy
roiling in his stomach, egging him on and taunting him.
He yawned a little louder than he normally would
have and dropped his notes to the floor with an insistent thud. "I'm going
So, okay, subtlety was overrated sometimes.
Bruce's eyes followed him up and across the room, so that was good at least.
At the door, Lex stopped and stretched, letting
his t-shirt hitch up to show off his stomach, counting on the low ride of his
pajama bottoms to help his case. Bruce set his paper and pen down on the end
table and stared unabashedly.
Lex let out the breath with a little laugh and
a playful smile, hoping to pull Bruce the rest of the way out of seriousness.
"Not yet." Bruce's mouth quirked into
a half-smile. "I'll be up in a little while."
Completely frustrated and more than a little
angry, Lex sloughed off the day in a quick shower and headed for Bruce's bed.
He could wait, just lie there with every sugarfuckingplum thought in his head
melting the edges off his anger and try not to feel guilty that all he could
think of was how he was not getting laid while Bruce was down there worrying
about actual problems.
At three in the morning, the left side of Bruce's
bed - their bed - was still empty, and Lex got up and paced, pulled a book off
a shelf. He read the same sentence six times before giving up and closing his
eyes, cooling his temper with promises of Bruce's body on his.
He woke himself up, moaning and spreading in
a full-body stretch, jerking a little at the soft pull of wet heat on his cock.
The cool air of the room made his skin tighten, made the warmth sucking so gently
on him seem like the only heat in the world.
Bruce, eyes closed and cheeks hollowed a little,
lips stretched and tugging slowly, like he was just tasting, like he hadn't
really wanted Lex to wake up or something and Lex held perfectly still, marble
to the silk of Bruce's mouth. He stared at Bruce's mouth working his cock, licked
his lips and opened his mouth in a half-mimick of Bruce's.
Lips red and swollen and fuck, how long had
he been sucking? The ache reached into Lex's spine, into his thighs and they
shook, pulling a low moan from him. His hand moved without him, fingers pulling
gently at Bruce's hair.
One quick look of concentrated attention, of
assurance and *want* from Bruce and Lex's head fell back to his pillow, teeth
digging into his lip and hips rolling under the tight hold of Bruce's hands,
thighs locked open by the press of Bruce's shoulders. He was pinned, could barely
stand it because God, he *had* to move. Shoved his hand under a pillow and pulled
it against his face, suffocating and full, his own breath so hot on his face
under the mash of cotton and Bruce just kept going, kept sucking and squeezing
and licking until Lex yelled and threw the pillow away, gasping and begging,
hands flying to Bruce's shoulders and holding on, fingers clawing to get Bruce
to tighten his hold and he came, emptying into the warmth of tongue and lips
that closed harder around him and squeezed him, didn't let go until he'd settled
back on the bed, spent and panting.
Then for timeless minutes it was nothing but
calming down and breathing, letting go of tight muscles and sinking down and
utter relaxation. Just when he was ready to contemplate moving, Bruce moved
instead. Between his spread thighs, *right* between them, the smooth glide of
Bruce's length slipped down instead of up, brushing *there* then stilling. Bruce
looked at him, waited for him and he looked back, nodded. No words, because
he was scared and nervous. Because after all those nights, he didn't know -
wasn't sure it would ever come to this. He still wasn't sure, wouldn't be sure
until it was happening.
And he was right, because Bruce smiled just
a little and wished him a merry Christmas.
It threw him and he shook his head, looked to
the nightstand where two wine glasses reflected the flickering flames of a fire
that hadn't been burning when he fell asleep. He sighed deeply as the hips on
his wriggled down the bed and Bruce's head fell to his chest, warm breath ghosting
across his stomach.
Instantly, he felt young, so small and shrunken
with some kind of forgotten need for that pure, innocent comfort of being surrounded
by joy and love on Christmas morning. He opened his mouth to tell Bruce everything,
but whispered instead, "I didn't get you anything."
Bruce's protested, scoffing and saying he'd
never believed that was what Christmas was about.
And Lex hadn't either, but still. It had to
be said, didn't it? Maybe it all had to be said, maybe that's what Bruce was
He swallowed and pressed his lips into Bruce's
hair. "You can have me." It was honest and boyish and young and so
sexy it made his stomach flutter to hear himself say it.
Bruce pushed up on all fours over him, eyes
shining in the firelight and Lex didn't look away, couldn't stand even to blink.
He stared up, hoping it wasn't too soon, praying it wasn't too much for Bruce,
that Bruce wasn't as scared of *all the way* as he was. That he wanted it as
much as Lex did.
"I don't need this, Lex." A warning,
gently given, and Lex almost took it the wrong way until Bruce leaned down and
Bodies not touching anywhere, Bruce's arms and
legs surrounding him like a cage, Lex smiled his way out of the kiss and reached
up for Bruce's neck. "Aren't the best gifts ones you love but would never
get for yourself?"
The smile died on his lips at Bruce's sad, slow
nod. He couldn't stand for Bruce to look like that, for him to be so raw and
open after months of carefully guarding every emotion.
Lex loosened his grip on Bruce's neck and smiled
wide. "Hey, look, we don't have to do this. I just thought-"
Bruce's teeth tapped his before he could finish,
his body crushed beneath the weight of the chest that heaved against his. Lex
answered the heat that emanated from Bruce, hands rubbing hard everywhere they
could reach. Bruce kissed him different, deeper and longer, slower, without
the urgency but with twice the passion and Lex ached inside, knowing that he
finally *had* Bruce.
He turned onto his belly, neck craning so he
could kiss and suck, hips rocking up into the curve of Bruce's, cock pressing
hard into a mound of bedding until Bruce's hand slid across his skin, arm wrapping
around Lex's chest and pulling him back and up.
Lex followed his lead, kneeling up on the bed
and leaning back against Bruce's chest, his fingers aching as he kneaded the
strong thighs under his own. He sat back and felt Bruce slide between under
him, slick with arousal. Breath burned against his ear and Lex turned into it,
closing his eyes as he slowly moved back and forth on Bruce's lap.
"Are you sure?"
He knew the answer but took a deep breath and
opened his eyes, turned enough to see that Bruce was watching him. "Yes."
Hand on his back, not even pushing and Lex just
moved, fell forward without thinking, staring at the white sheets beneath him
as he knelt there on all fours like an animal, open and alone, as vulnerable
as ever. Bruce moved behind him for an agonizing minute, then returned with
a cool hand running back and forth across his shoulders, down his spine and
A finger smeared wet on him, twisting slowly
inside and stilling there until he rocked back on it. He slid his knees a little
further apart, head tucked down to see Bruce's thighs between his own and the
firelight licking his own dangling cock. The spread inside him grew and he drew
in a deep breath and let it out in a moan, reeling. He relaxed around the touch
inside, fighting the urge to tighten and hug the fullness, pull it deeper inside.
His back was brushed by Bruce's chest and his
shoulder blades sucked and bitten, the dip between them licked wet all the way
to his neck. He writhed under Bruce's mouth, raising his head and getting what
he wanted, that tongue teasing his neck and those lips sucking the base of his
The fullness slid out of him, leaving him hollow
for an instant, until Bruce's hand closed on his hip and he was opened again
with a gentle, blunt force, stretched beyond limits he would never have guessed
existed. The pain was exquisite, full and sharp like a symphony, dizzying as
too many notes crammed into too few measures. He shook his head, groaned and
grunted as Bruce inched inside him, breathed and breathed until he thought he
would pass out.
This was virginity being lost, and not easily
- not by pushing inside some sloppy-wet girl with too much softness to really
hold onto. This was being broken, torn, this had to be *forced* to happen, slow,
sure and determined. Hard for him to take it, and by Bruce's labored breath
and exacting patience, to give it, too. It *hurt*, it stung so far inside Lex
couldn't fathom it ever stopping. Couldn't remember what it was like before
it had started, but it was good, somehow. Comforting to know he could take it,
to know he wouldn't ever forget it.
He didn't move, couldn't, didn't dare. His legs
shook and his arms ached from holding himself up under Bruce's weight. But he
held still, let Bruce do it all, let him have him and take him, let him *do
this to him*. He needed it done, needed it hard like this instead of so easy.
Real like this, with Bruce, who did everything with purpose.
In the fire's glow, he could see his own cock
swaying half hard underneath him, could see the clench and release of Bruce's
thighs as they slowly pumped up and back. He glanced over his shoulder, breathing
hard at the sight of Bruce staring down, watching himself disappear inside and
emerge from Lex's body over and over. That gaze so incredibly focused and intense
and Lex stared, detached from the pain as he watched Bruce's pleasure, desperate
for those eyes to devour his own like that. As if he heard him, Bruce looked
up and saw him, saw him watching and whispered, "So good, Lex… God,"
and rubbed a hand down his side, making him shiver.
He wanted more, didn't want to wait for Bruce's
careful rhythm anymore, pushed his hands into the mattress, pushed back into
the next thrust and Bruce's hand tightened on his side, squeezing and holding
on. He reached back and caught Bruce's wrist, pulled it out from under him so
he fell onto Lex's back. Lex gasped at the new depth, groaned his approval,
and Bruce cursed under his breath, rocking harder when he caught his balance,
his cock gliding in and out, faster and faster.
Lex's back hot with Bruce's breath and skin
sticking to Bruce's sweaty chest, arms tired and shaking and the sheet's friction
burning against his knees - he couldn't hold himself anymore. He gave up and
leaned down, tucking his hands under a pillow and pressing his face into it,
hiding his hazy half-felt embarrassment at the position. Bruce hissed out, "yes"
and closed both arms tight around Lex's chest, pulling him back to meet every
thrust in. Bruce's voice whispered somewhere behind him, telling him that it
was okay, it was almost over because fuck, Bruce was close, so close and Lex
was perfect, tight, so close. Then everything was still and Bruce was gone and
Lex's back was showered in hot drops.
He hadn't been close, hadn't thought about anything
but Bruce inside him but just the liquid heat on his back and the hand that
slid under his belly and stroked fast on his cock were enough to bring him off.
His body jolted by the raw shock of a second coming, he fell onto the bed, Bruce's
weight pressing like a lead blanket along his legs and ass and back and he shook
under it, crying out into the pillow under his face and fisting the sheet, spread
thighs sliding on and squeezing Bruce's with every shocking pulse of orgasm.
It was over and he didn't want it to be, didn't
want to move, didn't want Bruce to take away the heaviness that crushed him,
that kept him from taking a full breath.
When Bruce moved a little, he forced out "Don't-"
and the weight pressed him down again,
somehow not so heavy this time with Bruce's lips brushing the back of his scalp.
He reached down and took Bruce's hand, brought
it up by his face and stared at it in the dim orange light, watched as the long
fingers twined into his own, traced the thin lines of Bruce's palm with his
When Lex couldn't fight off the cold of sweat
and nudity any longer, he turned a little and Bruce rolled off of him, pulling
him close. Lex let himself be moved into the curve of Bruce's body, be kissed
slowly and wrapped in strong arms. He closed his eyes when Bruce sat up to reach
for the covers, and let himself be tucked in.
The molasses morning hadn't passed slowly enough
for Lex, and if the groaning behind him as he peeled himself out of the mound
of bedding was any indication, Bruce wasn't altogether thrilled with Alfred's
summons to breakfast, either.
But it was Christmas and the staff was gathering,
their excitement already clattering and buzzing up the sweeping staircase, so
he and Bruce silently hurried through their morning routines, bumping elbows
over the sink and rubbing hips in the shower. The soap lathered richly on Bruce's
thighs and cold tile pressing into his back made Lex's lungs squeeze shut, but,
smiling and shaking their heads, they behaved and didn't indulge in a quick
fuck under the shower spray. They toweled off a foot apart and Lex was careful
not to tempt himself with the sight of Bruce in slacks and nothing else.
Downstairs the servants were all seated and
jolly - laughing over sausages and a round of bread so thick Lex was sure the
middle would be raw dough. He bit into his slice and grinned. Old world goodness
over new world music - an eclectic mix of drums and flutes rioted softly under
the din of conversation. After everyone was stuffed to button-popping fullness,
they moved into the great room for coffee and presents. Lex found himself lingering
in a shady corner, away from the lights and pine, the revelers and their host.
Bruce was in odd form, handing out presents
on his knees by the tree, passing his mug to a typically starched Alfred, who
looked as dapper as usual, save for a smudge of cinnamon on his chin. Lex grinned
and leaned against the wall, feeling himself blend away from the rest, a harmless
observer the subjects didn't even acknowledge.
Things would be very different at Luthor Estate
this morning, the house all gray quiet and locked doors. The scent of pine would
drift up to him and eventually he'd remember, have to take a moment so he would
feel the biting betrayal of an unspirited house and another meaningless holiday.
His mother would visit him during an afternoon nap, solemn and not at all herself,
deadly silent and eerily sad.
His father would absent himself from all meals
and leave a gift for him on the bottom stair.
Here the gifts were wrapped with obvious care,
tied with all manner of ribbons, ornaments and charms dangling from the loose
ends. Bruce announced every gift from Santa, clasped the hands of the men and
kissed so many blushing cheeks that Lex began to wish he was a chamber maid.
Finally, Bruce made his final holiday wishes
and the staff began to gather their things. The room was clearing, the servants
smiling and showing off their gifts as they pulled on their coats and lingered
in the hallway. Alfred silently closed the doors behind himself, leaving the
two of them alone.
"You didn't think you could hide in plain
sight, did you?"
Lex scoffed and gave up his mug as Bruce urged
it from his hands, trading the warm ceramic for the slide of brushed wool. "I'm
not very good at- you know."
Bruce shook his head and casually took a sip
of Lex's coffee before setting it on the mantle. With a smirk, Bruce tucked
his hands under the hem of Lex's sweater, his arms circling around in a warm
embrace. Resting their foreheads together, Bruce mocked, "Didn't Lionel
teach you anything? There are five things to remember about any family gathering..."
Sighing, Lex twisted to escape Bruce's arms,
but Bruce pulled him in close, stopped short of kissing him, their lips almost
"The rules are different for some of us."
Lex turned his head to the side, the closeness thrown in too sharp relief against
He needed to move, felt himself tensing under
Bruce's scrutiny. Bruce knew more about him than anyone - knew too much. Knew
He drew in a breath and held it, his hands still
tucked into his pockets, his cheek heated against Bruce's lips. "Lex…"
He closed his eyes and leaned into the whisper on his ear. "Lex… I know."
It was true, too, which made it worse. Lex nodded
slowly and laid his head down on Bruce's shoulder, leaning against Bruce's chest.
Striding down the hall, Lex burst into Bruce's
room, heedless of the closed door and early hour. He'd gotten up early, taken
a bath, and found a folder under his door when he went to get dressed.
"What the fuck are these?" Lex threw
the sheaf of documents across Bruce's bed, spilling the papers in a spray from
one side of the room to the other.
Bruce took a sip of coffee and raised his eyebrows
at the flying papers. "What do they look like?"
"They *look* like internal Luthorcorp documents,
but seeing as you're not a Luthorcorp employee, I'd have to guess that they're
Sitting up on the bed, Bruce reached for the
nearest paper, holding it up to the light, displaying the LC watermark. "They're
"Then what the fuck are you doing with
them? My father-"
"I think your father is the one that sent
them to me, but I'm not sure why. He's funding some of McMurray's research,
and someone wants me to know about it."
Lex picked up a handful of the papers and sat
on the edge of the bed unable to focus on anything but the bright red stamp
that splashed across the tops of all of them. "Why would my father send
you confidential documents" He squinted and saw numbers, bank account numbers.
"Why the hell would *my father* be sending you *bank statements?*"
Bruce shook his head and kicked the papers off
the foot of the bed. "Swiss accounts, Lex. Untraceable. He's either warning
me about McMurray or making an offer for my father's research papers. My guess
is he's doing both - seeing how I'll react before he makes the threat - or offer
It made sense - it was the way Lionel Luthor
did business. All nuance until he was assured he would win whatever contest
he was playing at. He never entered the game unless he was sure he would win.
But why would he think Bruce would sell the research, and why hadn't he bothered
to ask Lex about it?
"Lex, do I need to ask if you had anything
to do with this?" Lex looked up sharply, his thoughts echoed in Bruce's
words. Bruce was staring at him, face relaxed but as hesitant and cautious as
Lex had seen it.
"I'm not his lapdog." Lex pushed off
the bed and threw the papers in Bruce's face. "Or his whore."
"Lex, stop - you would've asked me the
same thing. Come on, you have to admit it looks-"
"It looks like the holiday is over."
As he stalked from the room he how the hell he came all this way with Bruce
just to find out that Bruce had never really been with him for the trip in the
"I can't let him do this, Lex. He can't
have the research, at any price." Deafened to logic by pain and anger,
Lex slammed the door on Bruce's words. Safe in the hall, he still couldn't breathe,
couldn't move. He fell back against the door, trying to steel himself against
the pain that wracked his chest.
Bruce wasn't yelling anymore, but Lex could
still hear him talking. "My father isn't for sale."
Packing went fast, the ride to the airport faster.
The Luthorcorp chopper was there, waiting on him, blades slicing chunks of silence
in the freezing wind. He hated helicopters, always has, but he'll take an hour
of hell over facing Bruce for the next week and a half.
The ground shrank below him and Lex leaned his
head back, closed his eyes. He left without saying goodbye, without telling
Bruce he was leaving, but it didn't matter. Alfred had walked him to the car,
put a hand on his shoulder despite Lex's undisguised annoyance, and told him
he was welcome back at Wayne Manor anytime. The final, generous incline of the
butler's head was enough to sting Lex's eyes. He'd smiled through a quick goodbye
and climbed into the car. Alfred shut the door behind him and tapped twice on
the window. Lex didn't look back as the car rolled down the long drive.
It seemed rash now, leaving in a huff when he
should have stayed and fought. But for what? What the fuck could he have fought
for? Nothing but his fantasy was lost, because Bruce had never bothered to invest
anything in him.
It wasn't worth it - laying it all on the line
for someone else who was just going to inherently doubt him. Lex wasn't in it
so he could prove himself to yet another man who would ultimately disappoint
him. He'd thought loyalty of all things was understood between him and Bruce.
His only comfort lay in the fact that Bruce
probably had no fucking clue that a son could choose a lover over a parent.
Granted, parents were a phenomenon Bruce had barely experienced, and Lex's only
education had been in pain. First the loss of unconditional love, then the burden
of Lionel's condition-driven approval. Shit, really, he and Bruce were a ridiculous
notion - the blind leading the blind into complete darkness.
Luthor Estate sat below him on the winter gray
countryside, spread like a fat aging toad, squatting there, waiting for its
prey. Que Lex, flying in in the helicopter, ready to be chewed up and spit out
in hallowed Luthor tradition.
But Lionel mercifully wasn't waiting for him
in his study, and the halls are silent save for the maid who bustled out of
Lex's room just as he turned the corner to enter it. She carried a stack of
towels and peeked over them with a smile.
"Welcome home, Mister Luthor. I hope you'll
find everything in order."
Remembering the rules of the house, Lex smiled
weakly back at her - here, anyone could be Lionel's eyes, even a pretty little
maid with a stack of towels. "I'm sure it is, Marie. Thank you."
His room was starched and stark, only a tattered
copy of Holy Blood, Holy Grail on his nightstand betraying the fact that he
actually did belong to this room, once upon a time. His bathroom door was open
and it was a no-brainer to head there first. He stripped and used the toilet,
pulled a towel off the rack and started the shower. The water was hot before
he stepped in, steaming up to the ceiling and hiding him instantly in its thin
veil. He was warm, finally, the chill of the trip home melting from his skin
and running down the drain at his feet. His skin steamed, too, reddening and
stinging under the hot spray. He took his time, turned under the water, thawed
slowly, dropping his shoulders and rubbing the back of his neck as it warmed.
Bruce's shower was nice, but it never felt like
this. Home showers were something you could never reproduce, no matter how good
the replacement was. He opened his mouth and caught some water, letting his
tongue feel the heat that pounded his face. Swiping a hand across his eyes,
he reached for the soap. The clean, sharp scent opened his lungs and cleared
his mind as he lathered his body. Bruce's soap didn't smell like this, didn't
have this instant effect on him, didn't relax him and let him truly unwind.
He closed his eyes and ducked his head under
the water, letting it run over his face and scalp. Soft and warm, like Bruce's
tongue running over his skin. Long, smooth strokes of heat, tickling along his
neck and chest, down over his stomach, teasing lower. His hand drifted down
on a slide of soap, finding himself half-hard and sheathing his cock in slick
heat, the lack of friction making him want to move. Giving in, he leaned back
against the shower wall and let his head fall back against the cool tiles, his
eyes squeezed shut against reality.
Bruce was in his head instantly, unavoidably
tangible as the fingers of water followed his chest down and brushed between
his thighs, curving back and running down the backs of his legs. He felt Bruce
everywhere, heard his moans, his soft growls in between the drops of water hitting
the wall by Lex's head. He held himself with his right hand and squeezed his
eyes closed until it was Bruce's arm resting in the curve of his side, Bruce's
hand reaching from the ethereal mist behind Lex, sliding along his shaft. The
water flowed over Lex's face, catching his breath and low rasping begging, washing
it away before it could echo back to his ears.
"Lex." Bruce's voice, rough and urgent,
in his ear as he stroked himself higher.
"Fuck, yeah. That's it. Christ, yeah."
Come on, just a little more. He felt his life reaching out, stretching past
the gnawing pain in the back of his throat, searching for the breaking point
that would steal all control from him for a precious instant of freedom.
He tensed his thighs, pushed his head back into
the hard tile, gritted his teeth and stretched further towards the abyss, hand
flying on his cock, water torturing his skin with unrelenting caresses. Just,
fuck, just a little more, just-
He cried out, water filling his mouth and stinging
his eyes as mouth and eyelids flew open in protest. His body hovered high and
far from his mind, shuddering and spurting despite the rolling in his stomach,
the screaming sickness that welled up in his throat. He spit the water from
his mouth and closed his eyes, panting and struggling back to the surface. "Jesus
"Didn't mean to interrupt, son. Shall I
come back when you've… recovered?" His father's smirk filled the whole
fucking bathroom and Lex fell back against the wall, jaw clenched tight on his
"I'm fine." Lex swallowed and pushed
off the wall, swiping his stomach and reaching for the soap to lather his cock.
"What is it?"
"Mr. Wayne contacted my office this afternoon.
He left a rather cryptic message. Something about… my using you to get to him."
Lex rinsed himself and turned the knobs until
the water stopped. Pulling his towel from the wall, he wrapped it around his
waist and stepped from the shower. "He's paranoid."
"Apparently. He informed me that the only
way he would work with me was on condition that you be kept ignorant of our
negotiations." Lionel leaned back casually against the counter as Lex stepped
up to it, wiping the mirror with a hand towel. "Does he doubt your loyalty?"
"Do you?" Lex glanced at his father
and reached for his t-shirt, tugging it on over his head. He turned and walked
out into his room and put on a pair of shorts. He aimed the towel at the hamper
but overshot it by a foot.
Lionel stood in his doorway, mouth working for
a moment before he spoke. "Is this whole - situation - the reason that
"I just wanted to be home." Flopping
down on the bed, he laid back on his folded hands. "Can't I just want to
Lionel reached down and picked up the discarded
towel, tossing it onto the bed. "Don't over-do it, Lex."
Lex sat up and balled the towel, threw it again,
Lionel shut the door behind him as he left.
The grounds of Excelsior were dark and soggy
the second week of January, hardly a shining welcome back. Lex let Lionel arrange
for a private room for him, away from temptation and regret, both. He was on
a different floor altogether, in a room exactly like the one he shared with
Bruce. It even faced the same courtyard, though from a different angle.
The first few hours that night, he'd slept with
his bed pushed up next to the window - the place he'd always had it in his other
rooms, but after staring for hours at the yellow rectangle of light glowing
from Bruce's window, he pulled the drapes and scooted his bed noisily across
Nothing could keep him from classes though,
and he knew he'd see Bruce eventually. It wasn't like he couldn't be in the
same room with him. He was just… a piece of Lex's past. Fucking prick.
He pulled his overcoat on and buttoned it, shoving
his hands into his pockets and stepping carefully out into the snowy light.
Calculus was his first class with Bruce, one of only two, the other being phys
ed. He could handle that one easily - his seat was across the room and behind
Bruce's. He stared at the blackboard until he couldn't block out the dark waves
of Bruce's hair any longer, then busied his eyes and thoughts with his work,
staring at the paper until the light blue lines melted into the white background
and he caught himself tapping his pencil.
Gym was infinitely more tedious. He donned his
fencing gear and lost two points because Bruce ran by, flitting past in white
shorts and shirt, legs flexing with his slow jog. Lex struggled to concentrate,
his focus too forced to do any real good, but steady enough to keep from looking
like an ass through the first round. He took his seat on the mats and tried
not to watch as Bruce ran his trancelike laps around the perimeter of the gymnasium.
If there was a chance that Bruce could see him, Lex made sure his head was turned.
When he got up for his second match with what
he considered a wholly unworthy opponent, Bruce rounded the corner coming towards
him, eyes locked on his. Caught, Lex spat and pulled his mask down, then snapped
his attention to his opponent, opening with ferocity the lanky young man hadn't
been ready for. He drove in, striking fast and hard, the slap of his foil on
the boy's canvas uniform echoing against the gym walls. It was a valid score,
even if it was a cheap shot. When Bruce's gaze stuck on him, his head turning
as he ran, Lex drove in hard again, scraping his foil along Fred's until they
were chest to chest. He pushed off with too much power and Fred sprawled back
on his ass.
"What the hell, Luthor?" Fred was
on his feet, tossing his foil aside and charging in, and Lex answered the reaction
with his own, fisting his hands in Fred's uniform, slamming him into the mat
and pinning him down. Fred gasped under him, the wind knocked out of him.
"It was a clean point." Lex pushed
up off the kid's chest, shoving his shoulders into the mat.
Knowing Bruce was watching, half counting on
the fact that Bruce would follow, Lex pulled off his gloves and tucked them
under his arm as he stalked into the locker room, ignoring the calls of his
instructor and the other boys.
The ancient locker room shower scorched so hot
that the slide of wool on his legs as he dressed prickled his raw skin. He slipped
out the door and headed back to his room before the bell could toll signaling
the end of the period.
It was too dark to see and he didn't want to
use his flashlight this close to the entrance, so Lex felt his way back through
the stacks, back to the place Bruce had led him that first night. He found the
furthest corner of the archives and switched on his flashlight, setting it light
end-down so it casts a yellow-red glow through its plastic. He pulled off his
gloves and huffed warm breath into his cupped hands. It was too damn cold to
finish what he's started - to head out to the cave and spend the night in solitude
and silence. The snow was almost gone, but the wind had picked up, and his face
ached as it thawed from the short walk between his dorm and the library.
He crouched down on the floor right there, wishing
he'd brought something to read while he warmed up. The archives might offer
something interesting enough. Pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes until
he saw stars, he sighed and started to stand but froze in place when the soft
squeak of a boot on tile sliced through the stale dusty air. He held perfectly
still, not even daring to reach for the flashlight, his mind racing with excuses
for him to be down there at that hour. The librarian would swear she saw him
leave over an hour ago. He had no reason to be locked in the building, no reason
to be sitting on the floor of the archives in complete darkness.
The spot of a light crawled across the floor
toward him and he followed the filtered stream up to the hand holding it. He
didn't need an excuse. He needed to run, and he tried. He stood, straightening
carefully, pulled on his gloves and shoved open palms hard against Bruce's chest.
"Stay away from me." Lex reached for
his flashlight and started to push past Bruce, who spread his arms and blocked
"Why'd you come here?" Bruce's eyes
were dark but soft, unaccusing. "You knew I'd find you… didn't you?"
Lex took a step back, balling his hand into
a tight fist, coiling for the punch. Bruce looked surprised for a second when
Lex moved, dodged a centimeter away and then right back into Lex's striking
range, and Lex's fist connected with a sickening crack, sinking too far into
the flesh of Bruce's cheek, just below his eye.
Bruce's flashlight fell to the floor and rolled,
making shadows dance around them. The rush of blood pumping in Lex's ears was
almost enough to drown out Bruce's grunt and the shuffling of his shoes on floor
as he stepped back, doubled over, cursed. "Fuck, Lex." Bruce held
his face, pulled his hand away to look for blood that wasn't there, winced as
he touched the reddening bruise again. "Fuck!"
Served the bastard right. Lex sneered at the
widened eyes. "Move. Now."
Bruce worked his jaw then reached for Lex, put
a hand on his shoulder before he could decide whether or not pulling away would
be a sign of weakness.
"Lex, just listen-"
Lex glared at the hand holding him in place,
then up at Bruce, who just shook his head. Lex reared back and swung a punch
at Bruce's chin, nearly falling backward when his fist was stopped by the brick
wall of Bruce's palm mid-swing.
The blocking hand didn't stop, pushing Lex until
he had to stumble to keep his balance. He reached back and felt the wall just
before the back of his head connected with cinder block.
"*Listen* to me. It was for your own good."
Lex fumed inside, gritting his teeth to keep
from screaming his frustration. "Get the fuck off me."
Bruce's hand closed on his jaw, holding his
chin in vice grip, forcing Lex to look into dark eyes. "I know what you
think, but you're wrong. I trust you." The hold on his face loosened and
Lex turned his head, eyes closing.
He couldn't speak, not even to argue.
Bruce's lips ghosted over his own, soft and
warm against his tightly pursed mouth. "I trust you, Lex."
The bumpy texture of the wall behind his head
dug into his scalp and he let his head fall forward, opened his eyes when he
felt his coat fall open to the cool air of the room and Bruce's hand slide under
the thick wool. The long fingers stroked across his belly and around his side,
up and over his chest. He felt the unmistakable loosening of his shirt as Bruce
unbuttoned it, stood still and let its hem be tugged out of his slacks.
The air rushed in under his open coat and shirt,
tickling his belly and raising his skin, pulling every nerve to full-alert as
Bruce brushed fingertips down the center of his chest and hooked them into his
waistband. Lex shook his head and laced his fingers tightly into Bruce's hair
as the young man knelt in front of him, looking up with unabashed surrender,
eyes more revealing than Lex had ever seen them. If he was going to strike,
now would be the perfect time. He doubted Bruce had ever been more vulnerable
in his presence.
But as his waistband slackened and fell open,
the backs of his thighs wrapped in big, steady hands that pulled him forward
just long enough to slide pants and boxers both to his ankles, he didn't lash
Bruce's nose pushed into his belly, the cold
seeping into his skin and making him jerk a little before warm breath and a
deep inhale tickled across his groin. He burned from navel to knees, scorched
with the imprints of Bruce's fingers as they spread and squeezed, drew him closer
to the red, wet lips that sucked small kisses inside the curves of his hipbones.
He closed his eyes as Bruce's tongue licked out, slowly drawing a hot line along
his length that cooled before it reached the tip of his cock. Bruce pushed against
him, pressing firm kisses on his thighs between sucking teases.
Lex opened his eyes, ran his thumb across the
swelling oval on Bruce's cheekbone, sucked in air along with Bruce as he pressed
the pad of his thumb in gently, testing the depth of Bruce's pain. Those dark
eyes begged up at him again, younger and more naked than they ever should have
been, and Lex let his head fall back against the wall, pulling Bruce's face
against his crotch so he wouldn't have to see that weakness written where it