Vision Thing III: Learn Braille
by Te
December 2001

Disclaimers: If they were mine, I'd have long since enrolled them in a
nice outpatient program.

Spoilers: None. Pre-Smallville.

Summary: Lex goes on a social call.

Ratings Note: NC-17

Author's Note: Third and hopefully last in the _Vision Thing_ series. Takes
place a few days after "See This" and "Don't Look." It's absolutely
necessary to read those first, I think.

Acknowledgments: To my gorgeous Webrain, of course, for making me
laugh at the most *bizarre* things, and to Molly for fostering this idea
through e-mails, and to Iain, who doesn't even have to be *around* to
tell me exactly what he wants to see. More thanks to Bas, who braved
the beta-free writer. The title is Spike's, otherwise known as The Keeper
of Themes.

Feedback is the next best thing to therapy, I swear.


It would be so much easier if he could just crawl right out of his skin.

Lex can imagine it, so easily. Not the Clive Barker version, just the thought
of doing something, anything, that would take his mind that last little step
away from. Here.

Metaphorically and literally, hopefully.

A nice, long rest in a room with padded walls and clean-shaven men who
never, ever actually want to touch him.

He'd be bored in milliseconds, of course, but it might be that useful sort
of boredom.

Life has been entirely too exciting lately.

Lex can sit down again, though.

He supposes that's a plus.

It had been unpleasant on a number of levels to have to bite back a
wince at the family dinners he'd been forcing himself to attend. Not least
of which the fact that, Christ, he shouldn't *have* to hide the fact that
his father had hurt him.

In some world, in some universe marginally less fucked up than the
world he lived in, Lex Luthor should be able to wince as publicly as he
wished, turn to Lionel Luthor, and say, "Gee, Dad. You fucked me a
little too hard, you know? Maybe ease up the next time?"

He can hear the imaginary clatter of silver on expensive china like

He can watch his father's face purple with rage and smirk and smirk until
those hands (on his face on his mouth) close around his throat and the
help might be a little too shocked to move, and whatever guests they
were fete-ing at the moment would gasp and stand and it might be
something sweet, something downright *special* to die like that.

And drag Lionel down with him.

Lionel, it seems, has had no trouble erasing any of this.

Lex had watched the maid bundle his sheets up with his own.
Undoubtedly both sets are clean and spring fresh in the linen pantry
even now.

Lionel, his father, his ever beloved father hadn't looked at him once the
day after, giving Lex just enough time to build up hope for... something.

He should've said something then.


He should've known better.

The next morning found them on opposite ends of the breakfast table,
silent and silent and silent until Lionel looked up and Lex realized he'd
been staring. There'd been a flash of... something in the man's eyes,
gone quickly enough that Lex has begun to believe he was fooling
himself about it.

And then... "A Luthor doesn't have time to daydream, Lex. Do I
need to find you something to do?"

Lex had blinked, incredulous and, God, yes, he can admit this to himself,
*hurting*, and gotten control of himself as quickly as he could. "That
won't be necessary... Father. I have some additional research I've
been considering."

He wants to believe that he really hadn't been quick enough. That
Lionel had just been giving him time to... recover.

He hates himself for that want.

He could find several things to hate himself for without much effort,
really -- the sheer naiveté of believing he could somehow make a real
relationship out of the mess of his family life is only the start -- but
self-loathing just feels a little too typical at this point.

Too twelve year old girl, too Very Special Episode.

His father didn't rape him.

He came twice, hard enough to make the memory not entirely

Lex is not a victim.

Lex will never. Be a victim.


And really, this isn't the sort of thing that scars a man for a life. Or,
rather, it's precisely the sort of thing that could scar *any* man for life,
but Lex isn't any man.

(A Luthor doesn't...)

In the end, Lex doesn't have time for childhood trauma. There's life,
the Ivy League idiots he's looking forward to shocking the living shit
out of when they figure out just precisely how smart he really is.


There are other things out there for Lex to focus on. He just has to
find them.

After the third day of forcing himself to be noticeable, present, *there*,
Lex lets himself fall into old habits. The home lab is, perhaps, the best
present Lionel has actually given him, though he knows the main reason
for it was to make sure Lex was steered in the right direction. His
mother... his mother had always wished he'd used his imagination for
more literary pursuits.

Sometimes he wishes he was more wired that way, or that he had
been, then.

He'd been too young to think about making her happy. He could've
done something with her gifts of fiction other than toss them to the side
after a single, dutiful read. Lionel, of course, had his own impressive

Lionel held several vastly important agricultural patents, all of which had
done their part to make their fortune years before Lex had been born.
It could've been enough to drive Lex toward something as blissfully
useless as nineteenth century French literature. Really should've been,
considering all those well-thought plans toward teenaged rebellion,


There's something absolutely godlike about it, the manipulation and
study of compounds and elements, putting things too small for thought
through their paces and making something *new*.

The physicists look down on chemists, but then, physicists never want to
do anything but take things apart and put them back together again.
Mechanics with degrees, and those are the ones he *likes*. The
theoretical types never want to get their hands dirty. The mysteries
of the universe on clean white sheets.

Lex doesn't want to think about sheets.

Paper, clean white paper.

Equations and theory and nothing he can put his hands on.

Boring beyond words.

The lab is in a sub-basement, stone and gleaming metal and flawless glass.
Labcoat, goggles. Extra-strong latex gloves and the speakers blaring
something alternative and forgettable. Raw emotion, guitar. He has an
endless collection of the stuff, most of which he'd left at school. These
aren't his favorites, but they'll do.

Sound and bitter scents and enough poison surrounding him to do some
serious damage to the Gotham water table, were he in the mood.

Evil mastermind, here he comes.

This was his first lab, and it's still his favorite, despite being smaller and
far less equipped than the one in Metropolis. It's... cozy down here.


Especially with the deadbolt that Lex decides, carefully, not to lock.

Something to prove, and he won't think to whom.

The CD has changed several times and Lex is just about to admit to
himself that he won't reinvent the wheel today when a hand falls on
his shoulder.

He does not scream.

He does not strike out.

He does, however, bite his tongue so hard his eyes water and if the
person behind him can't tell how frozen he is, then they have no
actual feeling in their limbs.

"Yes?" Lex doesn't turn.


Darius. Lex lets out a sigh that makes him want to bite down again. Only
Darius. "Can I help you with something?" He's not going to turn around
until he can fix his face.

"Are you...?" Darius trails off and the rage that hits Lex is massive and

"Is there a particular reason why you're checking on me?" And he knows
that tone. It is, of course, his father's.

The hand is gone instantly and Darius sounds as stiff as Lex feels. "You
have a phone call, Master Lex. It's Bruce Wayne."

Bruce. Making what could only be a purely social phone call. It's about as
easy to imagine as his father dressing like Santa Claus and handing out
gifts to needy children. Stops him for a minute, and he misses the first
half of whatever Darius is saying.

"... call?"


"Where would you like to take the call?"

Of course. None of the cordless phones had enough range to reach
down here. "Oh... in my rooms would be fine, Darius. I'll be up in a

"Very good, sir."

Lex waits until he can hear the door close behind Darius and slumps,
elbows buckling slightly under his weight. This is intolerable. If all it takes
is getting fucked up the ass by his father to make him lose his

Doesn't even try to hold in his laughter. Lets it bounce off the stone walls
and back at him and if there's something of an edge to it, then... well,
he's entitled, isn't he?

So long as it doesn't go too far.

*Bruce* is the basketcase in this friendship, after all.

And Bruce is waiting for him.

Lex thinks for a moment about trying to figure out what the conversation
will be about, but gives up on the idea quickly. Bruce is... Bruce.

Whatever it is, he's bound to be surprised.

The cordless is waiting on his coffee table when he gets upstairs, and Lex
settles on the couch with it.


"Lex." Less a simple statement of his name than something like an
unasked question.

"That's me. Sorry about the wait, I was down in the lab."

There's a pause, then, and Lex is absolutely clueless about what it might
be for. He's never asked Bruce how he is -- he's not at all sure he wants
to know -- but he considers it now.


"Lex, I was wondering..." Strained sound to the man's voice, like the
words had strangled themselves on their way out of his throat.

Lex really, really doesn't want to know. Closes his eyes. Asks anyway.
"What is it Bruce? Is something..." Can't bring himself to finish the
question and hopes to God Bruce won't answer anyway.

Bruce mutters something almost entirely unintelligible.


"I said. I said, would you come over? I have... we can have dinner
together. You've never seen my lab, have you?" All in a rush, but at
least it makes sense.

"Wha... you have a lab?"

"I. Yeah. When you mentioned yours in class..."

Lex can practically *hear* Bruce sweat.

All because he wants Lex to come over. Could he be *horny*? And what
was the proper etiquette for asking your best friend the nutcase if he was
over that impotence problem yet?

Lex knows he's leaving Bruce hanging here, but... he's feeling more than
a little mean. Thinks maybe that should be allowed, too.

"Well, I don't know, Bruce, I've been working on some things..." Trails
off meaningfully. Waits.

Bruce takes a shuddering breath that makes something clench in Lex's
chest. He might not be feeling *that* mean. Bruce obviously needs...

From him.



"When do you want me to come over?"

"Oh. I. Now?"

Snorts a laugh a little helplessly. "Okay, Bruce. I'll have Chip bring me
around. Should I bring anything?"

"No, um. No."

And Lex realizes that he sincerely does want to get out of here. He can…
let down his guard a little, maybe. He doesn't have anything to prove to
*Bruce*. And whatever he wants is bound to be completely different
than what he's getting here. God knows what the man has in his lab.

Knowing the Wayne fortune, he wouldn't be surprised to find a big,
shiny particle accelerator.

"Okay, then. See you soon." Hangs up fast to avoid what will undoubtedly
be another awkward silence followed by an equally more awkward

Strange how his father just assumed Bruce wouldn't be taking over the
family business when he got old enough. For all his lunacy, Lex can't
imagine Bruce doing anything else. Except maybe taking up casual
serial murder, or possibly taxidermy.

Or both.

Lex is still laughing quietly when the limo pulls out.

Wayne Manor suits Gotham City perfectly. Huge, dark, gloomy... and
that was just from the outside. It may have even had gargoyles, but Lex
has never looked close enough to be sure. He doesn't *want* to be sure.

Tycoon's castle. Great-grandfather Wayne had made the history books
as just one of many reasons there were now powerful anti-trust laws.

Bruce is waiting for him outside with a steaming mug of something when
Lex steps out of the car. Bruce is clearly working on his hosting skills. Or
is maybe just feeling like freezing his ass off in the Gotham winter. His
face is a study in stone. Handsome, broody stone.

Lex sends the driver off with a wave and tries on a smile. A sudden
gust brings the smell of chocolate.

"Cocoa? For me? Why, Bruce, I'm charmed..."

Bruce's expression cracks at the edges. It would be a laugh from just
about anyone else. Gives Lex a hint of... warmth.

Camaraderie at any cost?


Everyone gets lonely sometimes.

Lex shivers and walks up the steps to Bruce, takes the cocoa in one
gloved hand and sips. If he'd waited much longer it would be too cold,
but now it's just right. Waits for Bruce to invite him in.

Bruce is watching him closely, not even remotely dressed for the elements
in his simple sweater and slacks. Cheeks rosy with cold and he doesn't
seem to know what to do with his hands. This close, Lex can see Bruce's
expression changing. Almost melting, really. Starting with the cold-pale lips
going a little slack, moving into eyes that are.


Almost... wild.

Lex realizes he wasn't too far off the mark. Bruce *wants* him, and
what should be amusing, flattering, and arousing just... isn't.

Something else he isn't entirely ready for.

Lex darts a glance down the private drive for the limo he *knows* is
long gone before he knows what he's doing, but he doesn't have time
to berate himself for freaking out before Bruce's hands close around
his arms.


He still has bruises there.


"You don't have to worry, Lex. I... know now. I can fuck you."

Blinks. "Um... Bruce. That's. Nice?"

"Come inside with me? I know how easily you get cold..."

"I... okay, but Bruce... I think we need to talk."

Bruce nods slowly, rubs his hands up and down Lex's arms. Stares at
him seriously. "You're right, of course."

And then lets go, gesturing Lex to go ahead.

Enter freely, and leave some of the happiness you bring. Right. Hysteria
just a little too close to the surfaces of things and Lex takes a shaky
breath. Walks in to find Alfred just slightly beyond the edge of winter
cold in the foyer, tray ready for his mug.

"Alfred, hi." Is Bruce killing people yet?

"Master Lex. Always a pleasure to see you." He smiles like he means it,
which, because it's Alfred, means that he smiles as though he's finally
going to be allowed to die. For a man barely out of middle age, Alfred is
remarkably elderly.

Maybe all proper British butlers were.

Bruce takes his coat and, surprisingly, leads him into a dining room he
hasn't seen yet. The table's almost person-sized, as opposed to
something out of a particularly operatic nightmare. Bruce sees his
expression -- it would be hard for him not to, he hasn't stopped *watching*
Lex since he arrived -- and explains,

"It's the Children's Hall. I thought you might be more comfortable in
here instead of the Main one. I don't know why I didn't think of it before..."
Bruce trails off, looking almost comically troubled.

Lex thinks about it, then decides it's reasonably safe to clap the man on
the shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. You were just giving me the full Wayne
Manor experience." Grins and almost means it.

Bruce just looks solemnly grateful. Loneliness palpable, even at a distance,
and for long moments Lex can't control his own face. Doesn't know
what's showing there, but Bruce takes a step toward him, reaching
without moving his hands.

And if he's going to do this, *commit* in some way to being a friend to
Bruce Wayne, then... then what?

Then fucking *deal*.

"Bruce, what happened? What's... wrong?"

Freezes him where he stands. Look in his eyes gone desperate in a
heartbeat and Lex does his best to sound gentle. Fucked up kid, yeah,
but weren't they both?

He can do this.

"You can tell me, Bruce, it's okay. I promise."

But then Alfred is there, all covered silver trays and funereal cheer. Lex
wonders, abruptly, just how many casual visitors Bruce actually gets.
Thinks maybe he could count them in decimals. Instead of taking his
spot at the head of the table, Bruce sits at one of the middle places, so
Lex takes the seat across from him.

Another grateful look and Lex is starting to worry a little.

Turns on the charm as consciously as possible, asking Bruce about
sports and stocks, sharing gossip on their classmates, everything he
can think of.

The answers he gets just get more and more terse, though, and Lex is
about to start prodding the man hard when he notices that Bruce has
just been... *staring* at him for the last several minutes, silent and
strange as ever.


Lex watches Bruce's jaw clench and work. He looks like he's trying to
swallow a brick, and for a moment Lex wonders if he's actually choking.
Do English butlers come equipped with the power to administer the
Heimlich maneuver to exceedingly well-muscled teenagers? Is that an
image he really wants in his head?

God, he *has* to get a grip. "Are you okay? Do I need --"

"I don't want to do this with you, Lex."

"God, I thought you were choking, Bruce, Jesus, don't *do* that. And
do what with me?"

"I. Pretend. That everything's..." Bleak little smile on his face. "That
everything's normal."

And Lex is cold, all the way through. Manages not to shove his plate
away from himself and run. Barely. He doesn't know he doesn't know
get a fucking grip he doesn't -- "I'm not sure I know what you mean,

"You do. You know everything, don't you?"

Slaps on the world's least believable smirk. "Well, as much as I'd like to
*think* I'm God --"

"Don't. Just. Please, don't do this, Lex." And Bruce is reaching across
the table, making Lex hyperaware of his hand in Bruce's path. Clutches
the tablecloth convulsively and Bruce pauses. God, thank God he

"Bruce --"

"I saw you, Lex. With. With your father."

Pure bright pain that makes Lex wonder what things like strokes and
heart attacks feel like. Some part of him still struggling against.


Because Bruce *couldn't* know, there was no way, he'd left the
party --

"I came back."

"But you. How. Oh, Christ, Bruce." Bites his lip so hard he tastes iron.
No. *No*. He has. Control. He's not some. Some. "Tell me what,
exactly, you think you saw."

"He. Lionel. He... made love to you. And you... you..."

And Lex doesn't know why Bruce trailed off until he realizes that he's
laughing. Laughing and laughing and yeah, there's that hysteria.

*Right* there.

Because no, this really isn't about Bruce pitying him at all, is it? No, no
pity for him, and fuck him if that makes him relieved and angry and
so fucking scared.

No escape.

Lets his silverware clatter to the table and launches himself at the door.
Bruce is there ahead of him. So fast for someone so fucking big.

Fast and strong and no, no, no, please no --

Looking at him and now *Bruce* is scared. Pale and dark and red and
blue. Somebody else's Snow White. What kind of innocence is here,

Hands on his shoulders and Lex shudders. Stills. Realizes he was

Oh, God.

Knowledge like endless tidal waves, pocket apocalypse behind his own
eyes. He gets Bruce now, oh yes. Watching, somehow *watching*
what Lionel did to him --


Watching what he'd done with his father and deciding in that fucked-up
brain of his that, ah, yes, this sex thing. I get it now. Hold the boy
down and make him like it.

Send him away after and and and and --

Chokes on something he won't admit is a sob and Bruce is pulling him
close. Holding Lex close, arms wrapped around him like the awkward
bundle of possibly dangerous psychoses he probably is. Stroking in a
way that is probably meant to be soothing, stiff-handed and heavy.
Better for being so painfully, *obviously* alien to the both of them and
Bruce's sweater is warm and scratchy on his face. Some sort of wool
that Lex is, of course, allergic to.

Laughing again and Bruce holds him a little tighter.

Bruce is hard.

Lex forces himself not to stiffen, not to push away. Isn't entirely sure
Bruce would let him, isn't sure Bruce's motivations are clear even to
the man himself. Fleeting wonder about just what, if anything, Alfred
would do if Lex screamed.

Takes a deep, shuddering breath. He can't possibly cry one more
tear. He won't let himself. "Bruce." Muffled against Bruce's sweater
(Lionel's hand) and Lex *has* to push.

Thankfully, Bruce gives him a little space. Staring into Lex's eyes
very seriously.

Tries again. "Bruce. What you saw. That wasn't... that wasn't. Love."
Swallows the acid bubble of laughter before it can get out.

And Bruce looks... confused. "But he's your father."

Which clearly makes some kind of sense to Bruce that Lex can't
fathom. Except... that's not really true, is it?

Isn't he supposed to be owning his... what happened? His father had
*fucked* him. He hadn't asked him to, but he hadn't said no more
than once or twice, either. It had had it's own visceral enjoyment. And
hadn't he gone to the man himself? Hadn't he provoked (can't stop

Throwing his mother's wedding ring like he didn't care. His mother's
*wedding* ring, the reason he exists and. And.

Something wrong in there, deeply, horribly, wrong, but it's all so fucking
true and it isn't.

"It wasn't. I didn't want. God, *Bruce*, it was *wrong*. We. Made a
mistake." Juddering his way through the words. Control, control…

Bruce nods slowly. "You haven't... done it again?"

"No! I mean, no..." Focuses on his breathing. Bruce is... really screwed
up right now and Lex is stuck with him at least until he can get to a phone.
Has to make him *understand* this. "Fuck, I wouldn't *want* to. It would
be like... like you having sex with *Alfred*."

Lex tries on a smile that dies a painful death at the look on Bruce's face.

"Bruce... you haven't... have you?"

"I. Wondered if I should."

Lex wants to bang his head against a wall, and Bruce's chest would do,
but he isn't sure about what message that might send. "I'm going to go
out on a limb here and say that would probably be a bad idea."

"He wouldn't. Hurt me."

"No. No, I'm sure he wouldn't, but... Jesus, Bruce. You watch people
as much as I do. You *know* this isn't how it's supposed to go."

"Do I?" And Bruce scrubs a hand through his hair, mussing it into dark
spikes. For once, he looks exactly like what he is -- a teenager.

Like him.

"I don't know... I mean, sometimes I think I understand how things go,
for other people, but I'm. I'm never there."

Lex wonders what it says about him that that actually makes sense.

"And then when I saw... that. It was like I'd been wrong all along.
You wanted to. Get close. And so you... you..."

Sick. So goddamned sick. "Yeah, Bruce. I tried to... heh. I tried to
talk to him. It went... badly."

Bruce just looking more and more disturbed, and yeah, it's pretty
obvious he's getting it. Whatever it is he didn't get before, or didn't
want to get -- no.

Bruce isn't the type to hide things from himself, Lex thinks. It would be
too easy. Lex squeezes him a little. "Hey."

Disturbed leading right into panicked, and is it better or worse that he's
not the most screwed up person in the room?

Certainly gives him something else to think about. "Bruce, what --"

"Oh, God. Lex. I. I'm so *sorry*." Hands back on his arms and it's
pretty obvious that the only reason Bruce isn't breaking and running is
that he.

Doesn't want to hurt him. Oh, shit. He can't have this. He *can't*."

"Don't you fucking dare apologize for what my father... for what
happened. It's not. Your. Right."

Bruce reels back like Lex has slapped him and it just makes Lex push
closer. There wasn't much room between them to begin with and now
the only thing keeping them apart is their clothes. Shivers uncontrollably
and it just makes him angrier.

"Stay out of it, Bruce."

"But... if he... if you didn't..."

"It was a *mistake* and it's not ever going to happen again and you
just can't *tell* me you're sorry --" Cuts himself off with a hiss. Not
even close to making sense.

"But you don't understand, Lex --"

"Don't say it. Don't you fucking say it or I'll. Leave."

And Bruce is clutching him again, right over the bruises. Like he can
fucking *feel* them through Lex's clothes. And yeah, that was pretty
much the biggest threat he could come up with and probably the only
one that counts because,


Guilt like a sickness. Jesus. Jesus. Lex lets his head fall on Bruce's
shoulder. "Ow."

"Sorry --"

"Shut up, it's not your fault you have a shoulders like fucking barn
beams. It's just. It's not your fault, okay?"

"I could have. Stopped it."

"Oh, *Christ*."

"I shouldn't have… I. Lex, it turned me on so *much*…" Bruce
breathless and somewhere close to *tears* and Lex isn't going to
scream he isn't going to scream because if he screams it means all the
wrong things, all the bad things he can't let it mean and he's stronger
than this.

So much fucking stronger and Bruce's hands are shaking on his arms,
fingers flexing and releasing and flexing and releasing and oh, God, oh,
God *please*…

"Can I apologize now?"

And it's just so *Bruce* that Lex has to laugh some more. "Sure, go
ahead. Apologize at will. My apology es su apology. Apology uber
*fucking* alles. We're *all* sorry here…"

Bruce shifts, tilts Lex's head up by the chin. Strong callused fingers and
it's not his imagination that they… pet him. A little. "I'm sorry." Solemn
voice, but there's a light in his eyes. Bruce maybe considering joining
him for a ride on the mood swings.

Lex wonders what would happen if he dropped acid with Bruce.

It would undoubtedly make the history books.

And Bruce is waiting. "You didn't know, so… I. Forgive you." Harder to
say than he wants to think about.


Because if Bruce knew then, really, who else did?

Darius, unrepentant gambler who only still had a job because he knew
where all of Lionel's bodies were buried? Curls his lip at the memory of
that oh-so-brotherly hand on his shoulder. Everybody had a price, right?
Thinks maybe that Bruce has gotten just about all the forgiveness he
has in him.

Well and good. He deserves it for giving Lex an excuse to get out of that
damned house.

And God, he'd give just about anything not to have to think about this
for one more second.



Still holding Lex's chin up, free arm loose at his side. More focused on him
than anyone he's ever seen. Lex grins. He knows how to get out his
head. "Find me."


But he's already broken away and running full out.

Up the stairs and down the hall in the dark, and yeah, he knows a lot of
this place from their games. Enough to know that the halls are wide and
clear, that *this* turn will take him to the servant's stairs and down,
down, down past a closed door with light seeping out under the wood.

He can't hear Bruce behind him, but he knows enough not to expect

Keeps running. Back up one flight and left left right and up again and
again, and one more time.

Bedrooms up here, most shut up and sheeted and Lex picks one at
random, flies in and pulls the door *just* to, not wanting to risk either
the clack of the door shutting or the obviousness of having it be wide

Runs headlong into what feels like a sofa and goes flying over onto
the carpet. He's laughing silently, gets up immediately and feels his
way around only marginally more carefully.

Floor suddenly slick beneath his feet and he realizes he's in a bathroom,
cool and cool around him. Too much, so he keeps going forward, not
really surprised to find a door at the other end.

Walks through and realizes through the utter blackness that he's actually
in *Bruce's* bedroom. No white sheets to catch the few stray bits of
light that make it into this place. Thinks about running some more.


Bruce really won't expect to find him *here*.

Crawls onto the huge black-on-black firmness of the bed and settles
against the headboard.


Something impossibly soothing about it. Warm, almost entirely empty
house. No one here but the apotheosis of home service and his friend,
the lunatic. The friend part more important than the lunatic part for
perhaps the first time ever.

He… trusts Bruce. Knows the man wouldn't do anything to hurt him on
purpose. Knows that, in the end, they're probably both looking for
something like the same thing.

Connection. Safety.

Something to count on when, like now, absolutely nothing else makes any
kind of sense. An ally in this… whatever it is.

Knows that just by coming here, just by being honest with Bruce, he's
gained something immeasurable. Bruce's almost entirely unfocused need
for him like a drug. Lonely. Yeah. He can admit that. He's a teenager.
He's supposed to be lonely, right?

Lex is just smart enough to know it.

Pulls his knees up and wraps his arms around them. Breathes in all the
darkness and lets out the same.

He can't see a fucking thing and that's… fine.

Though maybe he can manage just a *little* more finesse the next time
he feels like making a connection.

Sometime in his twenties, maybe. Yeah, that would do.

Tilts his head back against the headboard and nearly chokes on his own
heart when the bed dips with someone's -- Bruce's -- weight.

Smirks. "Caught me again." Feels Bruce settle somewhere in front of him
and can just about make out what could be his hands. Still.

"You're too pale to hide in the dark."

"You shouldn't tell me all your secrets, Bruce…"

"I won't."

Has to snort at the blatant certainty in the words. "I'll remember that
when I'm thinking about trusting you."

"No, I didn't mean… you can trust me. I won't."

"Hurt me?" Everything Lex isn't thinking about just behind a treacherously
thin skim of. Ice.

"I won't."

Every sense screaming at him that Bruce is about to do… *something*,
but he never actually moves. Lex blinks. Shakes it off internally. "Okay.
You won't hurt me. What will you do?" Suddenly, viscerally aware of his
own… seductiveness. Power he has over Bruce like something vast and
dangerous to everyone in a ten-block radius, including himself.

Hears Bruce take a shuddering breath. "Anything you want me to, Lex.
I want… I want to touch you again. Your skin…"

Hisses his own breath and god, yeah. Lex is hard. Doesn't know whether
or not he should be disturbed by that fact, but has to decide on 'not.'
He didn't especially *want* to join Bruce in impotence land, after all, but...

But. Feels like maybe he should wait.

Doesn't want to, though.

"What about my skin?"

"God, Lex…"

Swallows a groan. Just this sudden rush of feeling, raw exhilaration that
they're going to play it *this* way. Lex has, he *knows*, absolutely all
the power here, and he's. Gonna use it. "Tell me, Bruce…"

"I want to touch you. I. Can't get enough of that. You must've

Sense memory of big, strong hands in the dark, moving over and over
him until Lex had had to *force* them down to his cock, his balls. Show
them what to do… "Yeah. Yeah, I have. You like the way I feel."

"Yeah…" And Bruce sounds hoarse. Thick-tongued.

Lex nods, slips his sweater over his head. He's fast enough to hear
Bruce gasp, even though he's not exposing anything more than a
pullover. Tosses the sweater somewhere into the black. "What else do
you like?"


"About me. What do you like?"

"You always know what I. Need."

Throws Lex for a moment. Not even remotely what he was expecting to
hear. A little too heavy for this moment. Maybe just heavy enough. No,
he doesn't feel like thinking about that, either. "Why won't you let me
touch you?" And okay, maybe thinking a *little* would be a good idea,
because he sure as fuck didn't mean to ask that.


Silence, and he's about to take the question back, pull things back on
track, but,

"Because I'm afraid."

Swallows hard. Tries to get his brain functioning for something other
than tease-Bruce-into-losing-control and why did he need Bruce to lose
control, anyway? How fucked up is he? How fucking *needy*?

Pulls his shirt off, but he's breathing too hard to hear what reaction, if
any, Bruce has to this. "What are you afraid of?"

"I don't… no. I'm afraid of. Breaking. Inside. If I lose control."

"You won't."

"How do you *know*?" And Bruce *feels* closer, even though the
mattress hasn't shifted at all.

Because you're already broken. Lex breathes. Runs a hand over his
chest. "Because I won't let you."

Pause. "All right."

Lex grins, brushes a hand over his nipple. Already hard for this.

"Let me do that. Please."

Oh, Bruce… "Not yet."


"I have more questions."

"I'm not at all surprised." Dry, dry tone.

"Why do you spend so much time on the roof of the dorm?"

"I can see the whole campus from there. Everything."

"You like to watch, Bruce?"

"You know I do."

And Lex takes his shoes off. Socks, too. He's feeling generous.

He's feeling pretty fucking giddy, actually.

Digs his toes into the coverlet. Spreads his legs a little. He can smell
himself. Wonders if Bruce can, too.

"Now, Lex?"


"I… I don't know if I can take this." Low, strained voice. Almost close
enough to touch.

"You can. We're almost there, Bruce."

The bed dips, shifts, and Bruce *is* closer. At his side now, only a thin
cushion of air separating them. "God, Lex. I didn't think I could *be*
this turned on."

And Jesus, in some ways Bruce feels terrifyingly *younger* than him,
as though he'd just been physically aged in a vat somewhere miles
away from anything like the real world. Something young and bizarre
and… precious. All for him. Lex turns to face him, the vague shape
of Bruce visible through the shadows. He thinks Bruce's eyes might
be closed.

Hears him take a long, slow breath and realizes he's being… sniffed.

Scented on the air like an animal, and God, okay, yeah, that's pretty
fucking hot. "You're turning me on so much, Bruce…"

"I'm not actually doing anything…"

"You don't have to."

"Oh. Oh, God. Lex, please…"

"How long do you watch me when we play your little version of
hide-and-seek, Bruce? Before you let me know you're there?"

"It varies."

Well, of *course* it does… "How long tonight?"

"Four minutes."

"Jesus. Didn't you give me any kind of head-start?"

"Was I supposed to?"

Lex laughs. "Remind me to explain certain basic childhood games to you
at some point, Bruce."

"All right. Are you going to…"

"Take off my pants? Yeah. Yeah, I am. Right now." Unbuttons his jeans
and has to sigh in relief. Game or no game, it was starting to get
painful. Lifts his hips and slides them down his legs, wondering what Bruce
is seeing now. In him.

The air is cool on his shorts where he's leaked a little, and Lex runs a
thumb over the wet-spot. Bruce's gasp makes him do it again.

And again.

"Lex, *please* --"

"Do you want to see me do myself, Bruce? Would that turn you on?"

"Yes. But not now. Take them off."

"Done." And God, it's enough that it's dark. That he can't actually see
what he's doing beyond the impressions of movement that Lex isn't
convinced aren't just what he wants to *believe* he's seeing.

Moves to toss the boxers in the vague general direction of the rest of
his clothes, but Bruce clutches at them before he can. "Let me."

Lex lets go and fuck, yes, Bruce is sniffing them, all right. Fuck, fuck,
*fuck*. Tiny wet sound like maybe he's found something he just has
to taste. "Bruce?"



And Bruce is on him before he can take a breath, fully clothed to his
nakedness. Growling against his throat and --

"ah --"

-- biting him there. Just hard enough to make his point.

Lex wraps his arms around him, gets his hands on the damned sweater
and yanks, dragging it up over Bruce's body with the t-shirt beneath. Hot
skin against his own, pressing hard and Bruce is licking him now.

Over his throat and down along his collarbone and -- Jesus -- up over
his scalp.

Tasting him. Wants to taste him oh fuck oh fuck --

Lex scrabbles at Bruce's fly, getting it open more through sheer dumb luck
than anything else. Bruce is hard, hot in his hand. Drooling pre-come and
making these hot, tiny *sounds*.

Want sounds. Need sounds. Whimpering against Lex's throat.

"Yeah, Bruce, fuck… that's it. God, c'mon, kiss me --"

Mouth on his own, inexpert and desperate. Feeding on Lex, sucking his
tongue into that hot mouth and half-begging to be fucked with it. Lex
gets his free hand in Bruce's hair and obliges. Slowing the kiss down
even as he starts to jack Bruce faster.


Swallowing every moan and Bruce's hands are on him, hot and branding,
restlessly stroking and caressing him, lingering nowhere.

Loves his skin. Loves it.

"Gonna come for me, Bruce?"

And Bruce shoots all over his hand before either of them can say
another word, shuddering and silent.

"Oh. Oh *fuck* that was so hot, Bruce." Bruce's head on his shoulder,
hands still moving. Lex pets his hair a little. "You know there's more,

"I have to say, I was hoping."

Lex snorts. "Optimism pays."

"Not… quite the response I was expecting to hear from you, Lex."

Lex can feel the smile against his shoulder. "Just call me an idealist."
Catches one roving hand and slides it down his belly. Lower.

"Oh. You're so *hard*…"

Gasps at the feel of Bruce's fist around his cock, abruptly unable to think
of anything better to do right now than let Bruce have his. Heh. Head.

But Bruce pulls away, and Lex has just enough time to wonder if they're
due for Bruce's long-delayed freak-out before hands close around his
ankles and *pull*.


"Just have to get you. Mm. Stretched out…" Muttered against his thigh.

"God, okay, anything you want, Bruce…"

Answered by sharp, sucking kisses on his thighs, down to the backs of
his knees and Bruce hands are gentle on his legs, shifting and moving
them and Lex has the distinct impression that he's being made love to,
though for the life of him he isn't sure if Bruce is aware of the

Isn't sure if he wants him to be.

Just as long as he doesn't stop.

Relentless hands so warm on him, the best possible chafe. Calluses
making Lex *aware* of his skin for the first time as a function of pure sex.
It had always been just a source of mild, bemused, self-loathing. He really
had hoped to grow *some* hair when puberty hit, but…

Bruce is making him feel impossibly exotic.

Desirable beyond anything he can consciously do to help things along.

It's terrifying, somehow right on the edge of all the things he's trying not
to think about, but it's also Bruce.

Mouth on his inner thighs, softer now. Wetter. Bruce just… all over him.
Only not, and Lex's upper body is cold in his absence.

Has to get his hands in that short, dark hair, tease his palms with the
sweat-damp spikes of it. So good. Needs it to be better. "Please,

Shuddering moan against his balls and Bruce is mouthing them, sucking
them into his mouth. Tongue slick over thin skin and Lex moans,
helpless and loud. Bruce's thumbs digging against the joins of torso
to thigh, rubbing and rubbing him there until Lex has to buck into
nothing but air and God, yeah, he's hard now.

Close to aching. Never been any good at denying himself satisfaction.

"Touch me --"

Nearly comes right there when Bruce uses his mouth instead of his
hands, sliding off his balls and licking up the shaft of Lex's cock. Licking
away all the pre-come, shifting to get it off his belly, too and --

"Oh *Christ* --"

Low chuckle, hot breath against him. "Just me."

"Bastard --"

"Orphan." And Bruce is taking Lex in his mouth, just the head. Wild licks
and those hands on his hips now, rubbing and rubbing before slipping
under his ass.

Holding him there, squeezing and *lifting* Lex up into his mouth. Most
incredible thing he's ever felt and Bruce is.

Going down.

And down.

Sucking Lex hard, sucking his *cock* and oh Jesus yes, yes, yes and
he might even be saying this out loud. No clue. None.

Blunt finger slipping back behind his balls and it's like being rubbed in the
best possible wrong way. Can't keep himself from fucking Bruce's
mouth, Bruce's wonderful, invisible, tight hot wet mouth.

Surrounding him and just *taking* him in.

So fucking good he's forgotten that finger until it starts circling his hole.

Tiny little motions, unmistakable and teasing.

Bruce feeling him *there*. Learning him and it's so different, it's good,
it's okay, oh please please *please* --

Bruce pushes *in* and --

"Oh *fuck* --"

Lex comes, jerking and shuddering at the feel of Bruce's mouth working
around him. Swallowing him down. Bruce doesn't let up until Lex pushes
him away, breathless enough to wonder if it had been wise to flush *all*
of his inhalers.

"Lex. You… you…"

"Fuck. Yeah, Bruce. God. C'mere…"

Bruce slides up over him, nuzzles his throat wetly before allowing himself
to be pulled into a kiss. Lex tastes himself in Bruce's mouth and has to
wrap an arm around him. Pull him closer, even though they're already
skin to skin.

So good.

Gets their legs twined together, not at all surprised that Bruce is getting
hard again. Kissing him like he's just learning how -- slow, methodical,
and determined with moments of pure inspiration.

Licking Lex's palate, sucking his lips, first one then the other. Holding one
of Lex's arms out to the side and stroking it with his whole hand, fingertips
to heel.

In the pauses he can feel Bruce watching him, and it's a little frustrating
not to be able to find his eyes.

"Do you want the lights on, Lex?"

"I…" And he isn't sure. Naked and post-orgasmic Bruce is a sight worth
seeing, but.

He'd have to see himself, too. Shifts under Bruce's weight, which
immediately eases. Not what he wants, and Lex rolls to press close

"Leave them off."

"Thank you."

Easy enough to leave it there, a favor, but… "It's for me, too."

Hand stroking his cheek, cupping the back of his skull. Lex tilts in what
he thinks might be the right direction for a kiss, but, "I don't

"I'm… learning to appreciate the dark."

Thumb over the knob of his spine, pressing there for a moment that
makes Lex tilt his head back.

"Mm, Bruce…"

Mouth on his throat. Half-mauling him and even though Lex wouldn't mind
if Bruce was gentler, he wants, very badly, for him to leave marks.

Less a matter of ownership than erasure. Bruce's marks don't come with
a price.

Holds Bruce's head close to him and earns a thrust against his hip, a
sucking bite that goes straight to his cock. It's not going to take long for
him to be ready again. Not with Bruce so obviously *hungry*.

Moving down his body to bite and lick at his nipples. Suck them into tight
little points, electric waves of not-quite-pain warming Lex all over. Twists
until he can draw one leg up, curl it over Bruce's waist and *pull*.

"*Lex* --"

"Is this what you would've done if I was all tied up, Bruce? Bite me?"

"Lick you suck you fuck -- oh *God*, Lex, can I?"

Erasure. Yeah. "Yeah, Bruce. Do it. I want you to…"

"How should I… I mean. Do you want me to go slow?"

The constant stroking is starting to get disturbingly… comforting. Doesn't
want Bruce to be conscious of comforting him. Thinks he knows exactly
how fucked up that is. "I'll let you know when you're in me --"

Cut off with a bruising kiss, Bruce's tongue in his mouth suggestive and
helpless at once and Bruce is holding him *tight*. Half-crushing Lex to
him and Lex catches one hand and brings it to his ass. Twines their
fingers together a little and makes Bruce squeeze with him and then
Bruce is thrusting against him, desperate and hard.

Lex's cock is still a little sensitive and it's almost excruciating. Doesn't
want it to stop but he wants Bruce fucking him *more*.

Breaks the kiss with some effort. "C'mon, Bruce, ease off a little."

Freezes. "Sorry --"

Bites his lip. "Want you in me before we come."

Bruce rests his forehead against Lex's own and they just breathe together
for a little while, shifting and moving.

It's good.

Wants to stay here all night.

Lets himself stay right there for several long moments before easing out
of Bruce's grip. Crawls over the massive bed in the vague direction of
'top' and 'left' and nearly smacks a lamp over onto the floor before he
finds the top drawer.

He knows enough about this room to know where *that* is, even if Bruce
has only ever used it to make jerking Lex off last a little longer. Or… well,
whatever he'd used it for before Lex had seduced him.

Turns over directly into a kiss and Bruce is petting him, smoothing him,
just drinking him down with hands and mouth.

Familiar sounds and a slick hand around his cock, twisting little strokes
Lex can't help but fuck into. Good hands, wonderful hands.

"Lex, I can't wait to be inside you…"

"Then get me ready. Slick your fingers a little more."

Biting kisses along his jawline and Lex spreads his legs. Slick over the base
of his cock, his belly, his balls. Thin strip of skin behind them that's always
been so damned sensitive and when Bruce presses up Lex groans aloud.

"Been doing some reading, Bruce?"


Laughs and spreads even wider and Bruce's fingers are right there. Circling
and not so much teasing as just… making sure he's slick all over, and
yeah, Lex can get into that. *Is* getting into that and is just about to
beg Bruce to *hurry* when he slips the first finger in all the way to the
second knuckle in one slow push.

Lex breathes out a moan and pushes back on it.

Hadn't needed much practice in the privacy of his own bed to figure out
how much he liked this. Bruce *in* him and his invisible gaze like a weight,
oppressive and necessary.

Starts a slow fuck with his finger that makes Lex want more really, really
quickly. Electric brush against his prostate on exactly every other thrust
and Bruce's other hand caressing his slick, tight balls.

"God, faster, Bruce…"

Gets his wish and has to groan because now it's *really* not enough, some
part of his mind just *ready* for this, and his body has definitely gotten
the message.

Bruce crooks his finger a little and starts hitting his prostate *every* time,
and it shouldn't make as much of a difference as it does. Lex plants his
feet and starts pushing up into it, digging his fingers into the sheets to
keep from grabbing for his cock.

Really doesn't want to come until Bruce is inside him, and he knows he
won't last if he doesn't use a little control now.

Knows he sounds absolutely strangled when Bruce adds a second finger,
but the burn of it is a little heavier than he'd expected, the fullness more
than he was ready for. Bruce's hands are exactly as big as they should
be for a man his size, which means they're pretty much huge compared
to Lex's own.

But Bruce has slowed down again, and it's good. Knowing what's to
come. Knowing how much they both want it and, yeah, even maybe
knowing what it's costing Bruce to *go* so slow.

"You feel so good, Bruce…"

"You're hurting."

"Only a little. It's okay."

"I don't want to --"

"If you stop, I will castrate you."

Low chuckle that hits Lex somewhere low in the belly, makes him roll his
hips into the next thrust of Bruce's fingers and there's that *breaking*

Like something tight and hard and vastly important just doesn't exist
anymore. Remembers this feeling from the first time and wonders if
Bruce knew about what he'd done with that nameless gardener, if he
was watching then, too.

Doesn't matter, or maybe just makes it hotter. Bruce fucking him in
earnest, in and in and in and the stretch is absolutely necessary. Vital
to his existence, but not as important as getting Bruce's cock in him

"Ah… ah fuck Jesus do me, Bruce --"



And Bruce doesn’t make him wait. Pulls Lex's thighs up over his own
and slides in, slow and implacable. Makes Lex wail a little, try to make it
go faster, but Bruce has his hips. Taking his time. Giving Lex this and
making him accept it, inch by inch.

Body feels so right that Lex has this brief, mindless fantasy of somehow
being *made* for this, fuckable and ready for it and when Bruce lets his
hips free to stroke his chest and belly, strip his cock for a few short
bursts of feeling, Lex keeps still.

He's shaking with it, though, and Bruce doesn't pause for too long,
slipping out just enough to be noticeable and pushing back in with a sharp
little thrust that drives a sound out of Lex he doesn't even try to classify.

"Fuck, Bruce, do it --"

Hands back on his hips, ghostly pressure and Bruce pulls out a little
further. Lex can feel those hands shaking and holds them with his own.
Squeezes and tries to get across just how badly he wants this, because
he doesn't think he can actually manage coherency at this point.

*In* and Lex realizes it's going to be *just* like this.

Bruce fucking him crazy by increments, for just as long as they can both
stand it. Lets his head fall back against the pillow and groans.

Leaves himself open to it.

Bruce's rhythm like the world's most rigidly controlled stutter. Out in in
out out in so hard and fast suddenly that Lex cries out.

Wonders how well sound carries in this mausoleum.

Wonders if perfect British butlers are allowed to get turned on by the
sound of their employer/guardian fucking the hell out of his friend.

Doesn't give a shit about either. They could be the only ones here, and
that's perfect.



"Tell me… God. Tell me how you want it, Lex…"

"You're incredible, just… just don't stop…"

Makes Bruce lean over and kiss him, shifting the angle to something he
thinks might just kill him and he's *still* doing the stutter routine.

A little awkwardly, but fuck, the man's flexible as all hell.

"I. I think I'll keep you."

Lex can feel the smile against his mouth and kisses it hard, works his
hips a little in encouragement.

"More, Bruce, please --"

"God, you're so beautiful…"

(Beautiful boy)

"*Fuck* --" Clenches hard and it just drives the feeling back up into his
body, all over his body his father's hands oh God his father had --

Bruce is moaning and Lex feels the pillow dip to either side of him. Bracing
himself. Gonna fuck him hard now just like

Just like --

(I will not have you waking the servants)


Not even aware that he's fighting until Bruce catches his wrists and even
*knowing* it's Bruce --

Can't stop struggling and it's just getting him fucked and Bruce is making
those hopeless, helpless sounds or maybe it's him and oh god oh god
oh god he won't he's not --

"Let *go*!"

"Please don't hit me, Lex, I can't. I can't…"

Holding his wrists in one hand now and petting him with the other. Stroking
his arms and trying so hard and still so deep inside… "I. I won't fight.
Just. Please, let go." Can barely recognize the breathy *thing* that his
voice has become. "Please."

Bruce releases him and Lex clenches his hands into fists but doesn't
do anything else.

Every breath just reminding him of the cock inside him.

Still so fucking hard. Both of them.

Moans aloud and Bruce is moving --

"Don't --"

-- and turns on the bedside lamp. Wash of color and light that blinds Lex
for long moments of blinking and wincing. When his eyes stop tearing
he can see that Bruce has his eyes closed.

Rigidly still and not touching Lex anywhere but where their bodies are.


And those eyes snap open, blue and serious and scared and. Starving.
"Just me, Lex."

Releases a breath he hadn't known he was holding and wants to cover
his face. Wants to just. *Hide*. "God, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry,
I just --"

"You were remembering." Gently. Not a question.

Lex throws his arm over his eyes. "I… yeah. I'm guessing it was
pretty obvious."

Bruce's hand gentle, incredibly gentle on his forearm. Tugging. "You
don't have to hide from me."

Laughs a little brokenly. "I thought you liked that."

Tugs harder and Lex lets him pull his arm away. Staring down at him and
there's a touch of anger there, now. Just enough to make Lex horribly
aware of how vulnerable his position is. "You know that's not what I

Hisses a breath. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"It's only me, Lex and I. Need you."

"Need to fuck me, you mean." Can't quite keep the bitterness out of
his voice.

"That, too." Still watching him.

Lex snorts. "Don't you ever lie?"

"You don't have any more clothes to take off." Hint of a smile, if only
in his voice.

Laughs outright. "I've got… hmm. Jesus, I'm not even wearing a
watch…" Makes him shiver a little and Bruce is there, touching

So warm.

Hands on him like Bruce wants to pat and press him into exactly the
same shape he's in now, and they're both spending a lot of time
staring into each other's eyes.


"I like the way you touch me, Bruce."


Stronger touches now, harder. More obvious intent, and Lex can see
the strain in Bruce now. That impossible control that's just not going
to last much longer.

And if he agrees to this, is it any better than having agreed to… that?

His father had never asked him. Grits his teeth against the thought and
then just. Doesn't.

Lionel never *asked* for anything, including the rights to his son's ass.

There'd been nothing to agree to and no way to do it. No way he
would have if he hadn't been so… needy.

Needy for what he had a right to have, in some other universe. That
marginally less fucked up one, way the hell over there.

Bruce's hand on his forehead, thumb just smoothing there, then down
over his nose. To his mouth.

Lex kisses it. Slowly, consciously.

Denial. That myth of agreement could've coasted him right through life
with a minimum of pain and gut-deep illness.

With a minimum of. Connection.


"Yes." So low. Hoarse with it.

This, right here, doesn't have to have anything to do with what Lionel
had done. And Lex won't let it. "Fuck me."


"*No*?! Jesus, Bruce, now is so not the time for you to… do whatever
the fuck it is you do. *Jesus*, make up your fucking mind!"

"I have. And I'm going to. Make love to you."

"Oh, *Christ* --"

"Please, Lex. Let me."

"Fuck, *Bruce*. What are you gonna do? *Heal* me with the magical
power of love? We hardly fucking know each other!"

"Magical power… Lex, I'm pretty sure my dick doesn't have any
special powers."

Half-strangles on a laugh. "Jesus, would you please stop making me
*laugh*? I'm trying to have a breakdown here!"

"Oh, were we having a serious moment? I hadn't noticed…"

Throws a weak punch that hits Bruce somewhere in the middle of his
chest. "Bastard, bastard, *bastard* and don't you fucking *dare*
correct me!"

Bruce flat-out grins. Rocks his hips.

Just a little reminder of what's going on. Just a straight-shot to his cock.
"Oh, God…"

Bruce's hands on his face, and the grin is gone. "I know I can't fix you.
I know you can't fix me. But I think… I think I can make it better,
Lex. Let me."

And the only response he can come up with is to turn into Bruce's
palm and kiss him. Lick him there when he starts.

Close his eyes.

"I… turn the lights back off, Bruce."


And he does.

Slow, hard kisses in the dark, bruising-hot and wet, and Bruce's hips
have suddenly become Lex's favorite thing in the world. Things.

Nowhere near enough control to finish the way he started, but it's all so
*smooth*. Lex wraps his arms around Bruce's neck and tries to
remember how to breathe, how to do anything but fall into this, his own
hips rocking up and up into Bruce's liquid fuck.

"Need you…"

And it's close enough to what he was thinking that it takes a minute for
Lex to realize that Bruce had said it. Just makes it better. Sweat and sex
between them and so much skin to touch.

Broad shoulders leading into Bruce's back and every muscle is sharp,
defined. Slick and hard under his hands and his cock is in love with
Bruce's six-pack. Almost enough friction. Makes Lex beg for more, faster
than he would've thought he'd be ready for.

Harder now, driving thrusts that lift them both and those hands are back
on either side of his head. Bruce breaks the kiss to rub his cheek against
Lex's. Nuzzling him and panting and it's like Bruce just can't stop touching
him even now that they're this close.

Some terrifying, incredible way to measure just what this actually means
to the man and Lex kisses everything he can reach, bites Bruce's earlobe
and earns a groan that just underscores how *silent* Bruce is in this.

In everything.

"Jesus yes, make noise, Bruce, you sound so good --"

"*Lex* --"

"Oh, oh fuck *harder* --"

Digs his heels into Bruce's back and pulls him in and they're surging
together, rocking the bed and Bruce won't stop calling Lex's name. Maybe
can't stop.

And Lex just wants to beg for it, knowing that he doesn't have to and
clawing a little at Bruce's back and needing and needing and --

"*Fuck* --"

Comes all over them both and Bruce is kissing him again, apparently
holding himself up on one hand because the other is on his face. Holding
him still and petting him and fucking him harder and harder.

"So good Lex oh God --"

"Come in me, Bruce --"

Another hard kiss and the next thrust makes Lex see stars and Bruce is
coming, moaning into his mouth and just *shaking* with it.

Lex holds him through it, pulling a little to urge Bruce down off his arm.

"Don't want… to crush you…"

"You're not *that* big."

"Can you… not say that when we're naked? Ever again?"

Laughs so hard he starts coughing and Bruce laughs with him finally,
pulling out slowly and resting half on top of him.

Warm and solid. Moving with his breath.

So good.

They calm down after a while and it's just… comfortable. Quiet and
kind of sweet.

"Bruce, that was pretty fucking amazing."

"Mm. I. I'd like to do it again. Some time."

Lex smiles in the gloom. "I think that could be arranged."

Bruce strokes his face in a way Lex can only define as thoughtful. "Can
you… stay here tonight?"

"I… yeah. I could have Chip bring some things for me in the morning."

"Good. Thank you." Solemn and serious again. Humor doesn't stay
with Bruce very long, Lex is learning.

"You're welcome." Means it.

Eventually they roll over to the other side of the bed, Bruce managing
some act of contortion to get them both under the covers, Lex toward
the inside. Bruce has one arm thrown over Lex's waist in the least casual
hold in the world.

Lex doesn't mind.

Starts to drift on the surface of things and realizes he's been dozing when
he feels Bruce kiss the back of his neck.

"If he ever touches you again, I will kill him with my bare hands."

And he knows Bruce just well enough to know that he's absolutely serious,
which pretty much wakes him up completely. But…

Not for very long.