Exiled( hi! remember me?)
10/5/04 04:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyA bit of Exiled, because I haven't forgotten my boys...in this section, Bruce gets a hug good bye from Clark. We'll miss him, won't we boy? *pats him on head*
Here are the previous bits, lounging around and drinking beer and complaining that things were a lot better when they were kids and where the fuck are the chips?
EXILED
He slipped out of bed looking back at the other two, sound asleep. He smiled—Lex was spread out over Bruce like he was a mattress. Bruce was nearly big enough to be one, Clark grinned. He padded over to the window and looked out into the darkness. If he concentrated with out using his enhanced senses, he could see the edge of the garden, and just make out the helicopter pad. Bruce was going to leave with Toby in the morning—it was going to be strange not to have him here any more. He was going to miss him; he was amazed at how much it bothered him.
He sighed, leaned his head against the window. The chill of the glass cooled his head down some, he still felt hot inside, a little shaky yet— at least that feeling of owning the world was gone. I t was almost scary, he’d felt that good. He remembered how aggressive he’d been with Bruce, he wondered if Bruce was going to be mad at him.
He felt something, a little nudge at the corner of his mind, and rolled his head to one side and smiled.
Bruce was standing behind him. Anyone else would never have known he was there; Bruce was quiet, unbelievably quiet. He reached out and stroked his fingers down Clark’s cheek. “Lex is out like a light,” he murmured. Clark turned around to face Bruce. Bruce wore Clark’s shirt, and his jeans, and for some reason, he found it really hot. He drew in a sharp breath, and felt himself go into Bruce mode, his body stooped a bit, his head lowered a little so that Bruce stood even taller over him.
Bruce took his arm and spread open his hand, put the oil in his palm and closed his fingers over it. He slid his fingers up until they closed over his wrist, pulled him gently out of t he room and down the hall. Clark went with out protests and no questions, content to follow Bruce’s lead. He led them into Lex’s office.
“I’m leaving tomorrow with Toby, you know that-- Lionel is coming in next week sometime to help put things back in order for Lex—hmm.” He marveled a moment. “I never thought I’d see the day that Lionel would ever treat Lex like a son instead of excess baggage. It’s strange. Everything that’s happened this summer was a revelation to me. I learned a lot about Lex, myself.” Bruce turned to Clark and the shirt spread wide as he spread his arms open. “I learned a lot from you Clark.”
Clark automatically went into Bruce’s arms, and curled into him. Bruce made a little noise of pleasure at the warmth Clark gave off, and pulled him in closer. “You’ll be good for him, a lot of his demons are gone, thank god. You have to take care of him. I can’t do it.”
Clark pulled back a little, “Bruce, you sound like you’re not coming back—you’ll come back soometime, won’t you?”
“I can’t say for sure when, Clark. I’ll be busy for a long time, but I’ll keep in touch, you can talk to me anytime you want, any time you need someone you can trust about your…gifts. I promise you this, you’ll hear from me again, whether here or-- somewhere else—I’ll come for you one day.”
Clark rolled his head up and looked at Bruce. Did he have no idea of how threatening he sounded sometimes?
Bruce took advantage of his uplifted face, he curled one hand under his chin held him still and kissed Clark softly, carefully.
Clark pushed Bruce against Lex’s desk, slowly tracing the curves and angles of Bruce’s body, and watching his eyes darken, flicker over his face. He loved when Bruce watched him so intensely; it felt like he was being absorbed from the inside out. He liked being the total focus of his attention…that’s what it was about Bruce. He made him feel like he was important, like he was needed. He pushed open the jeans, dragged them down over his hips and started to go to his knees, hands already gliding over the hot silky skin of Bruce’s dick, his lips brushed the head and Bruce said, “No.”
Clark looked up quickly, sure he’d done something wrong, but Bruce just shook his head, and pulled Clark back up. He pressed the bottle into Clark’s hand, and kissed him on the cheek.
“Fuck me. Remember? You said you would.”
Clark felt a surge of lust and a faint echo of that feeling of owning the world swept over him. He grinned and stepped back to look at Bruce. It was a good look. Bruce leaned back against the glass desk, elbows locked, legs spread as wide as he could get them with the jeans pulled tight around his thighs, shirt open over his trembling abs—he looked like sex. From his toes to his head, Clark thought, hot, hard, sweaty sex.
Clark spun Bruce around and bent his head towards the desk. He shoved the shirt up around his shoulders, rubbed circles on his back, down his spine, down to his hips, when he reached his ass, Bruce hissed and rose on his toes, bent forward more. Clark watched his reaction with absorbed fascination; he touched him lightly, slid his finger gently down his cleft, and watched Bruce shiver. He pushed in more, gently, slowly until his finger nudged against the tight ring of muscle, and Bruce moaned. He rubbed again, and again until Bruce was copying his movements and trying to capture him, force his finger in –Clark kept teasing, dipping his finger into him until Bruce broke, his voice was rough and raw as he begged for it. Clark laughed and slicked himself, murmuring into Bruce’s skin what he was going to do to him, and Bruce cursed softly and when Clark slid in, they both gasped aloud.
Bruce wanted to scream, to pass out, wanted to be able to breath again, and Clark moved a little and Bruce never wanted it to end. It was like nothing he’d ever imagined. It hurt and felt so good, Clark was pushing in and telling him how wonderful, how hot he was, how good he felt, every word went straight to his dick—he wasn’t going to survive this. His heart hammered and his blood pounded in his ears and his throat felt like it was on fire—ah. Clark shifted and his brain let his body know that something incredible had just happened—lightening poured through him, lighting every nerve like they were fuses and Clark wasn’t talking any more, he was gasping and groaning—and Bruce could hear himself, and wondered idly if he’d be embarrassed at the sounds he was making, and then thought-- oh, Lex’s desk-- and came over it. Clark yanked him back hard and ground into him and he could feel him flex and yell and shake, the waves of Clark’s orgasm making him shake in sympathy, groan as the after shocks of his orgasm caught up in Clark’s.
********
Damn. His face was stuck to the glass, he was covered in sweat and his back hurt, his thighs were killing him being from pressed into the edge of the desk, his hips were throbbing and surely bruised and his dick was sliding around in a sticky mess and he felt– fantastic. A laugh bubbled up before he could stop it, and he felt Clark’s chuckle rumble against his back.
Suddenly they were both laughing, Bruce wasn’t sure why but it felt good, and when Clark pulled him upright and kissed him, it felt perfect.
Clark looked around him at Lex’s desk and winced. “Boy, I hope none of that stuff was important,” he muttered. Bruce glanced and grimaced. “No wonder my cheek is sore," and stared sternly at Clark when he giggled. “This cheek,” he said as he peeled a staple off of his cheekbone.
Clark snickered again and nudged him towards the door. “Go. Shower, get packed, I’ll clean up this mess.”
Bruce smiled and said, “Maybe you want to get something on, the staff will be up soon, and you came in here naked.” He smiled a little wider when Clark blushed -- And there’s the shy kid I met once upon a time, he thought.
TBC--- can you believe it? *goggles quietly*
Here are the previous bits, lounging around and drinking beer and complaining that things were a lot better when they were kids and where the fuck are the chips?
EXILED
He slipped out of bed looking back at the other two, sound asleep. He smiled—Lex was spread out over Bruce like he was a mattress. Bruce was nearly big enough to be one, Clark grinned. He padded over to the window and looked out into the darkness. If he concentrated with out using his enhanced senses, he could see the edge of the garden, and just make out the helicopter pad. Bruce was going to leave with Toby in the morning—it was going to be strange not to have him here any more. He was going to miss him; he was amazed at how much it bothered him.
He sighed, leaned his head against the window. The chill of the glass cooled his head down some, he still felt hot inside, a little shaky yet— at least that feeling of owning the world was gone. I t was almost scary, he’d felt that good. He remembered how aggressive he’d been with Bruce, he wondered if Bruce was going to be mad at him.
He felt something, a little nudge at the corner of his mind, and rolled his head to one side and smiled.
Bruce was standing behind him. Anyone else would never have known he was there; Bruce was quiet, unbelievably quiet. He reached out and stroked his fingers down Clark’s cheek. “Lex is out like a light,” he murmured. Clark turned around to face Bruce. Bruce wore Clark’s shirt, and his jeans, and for some reason, he found it really hot. He drew in a sharp breath, and felt himself go into Bruce mode, his body stooped a bit, his head lowered a little so that Bruce stood even taller over him.
Bruce took his arm and spread open his hand, put the oil in his palm and closed his fingers over it. He slid his fingers up until they closed over his wrist, pulled him gently out of t he room and down the hall. Clark went with out protests and no questions, content to follow Bruce’s lead. He led them into Lex’s office.
“I’m leaving tomorrow with Toby, you know that-- Lionel is coming in next week sometime to help put things back in order for Lex—hmm.” He marveled a moment. “I never thought I’d see the day that Lionel would ever treat Lex like a son instead of excess baggage. It’s strange. Everything that’s happened this summer was a revelation to me. I learned a lot about Lex, myself.” Bruce turned to Clark and the shirt spread wide as he spread his arms open. “I learned a lot from you Clark.”
Clark automatically went into Bruce’s arms, and curled into him. Bruce made a little noise of pleasure at the warmth Clark gave off, and pulled him in closer. “You’ll be good for him, a lot of his demons are gone, thank god. You have to take care of him. I can’t do it.”
Clark pulled back a little, “Bruce, you sound like you’re not coming back—you’ll come back soometime, won’t you?”
“I can’t say for sure when, Clark. I’ll be busy for a long time, but I’ll keep in touch, you can talk to me anytime you want, any time you need someone you can trust about your…gifts. I promise you this, you’ll hear from me again, whether here or-- somewhere else—I’ll come for you one day.”
Clark rolled his head up and looked at Bruce. Did he have no idea of how threatening he sounded sometimes?
Bruce took advantage of his uplifted face, he curled one hand under his chin held him still and kissed Clark softly, carefully.
Clark pushed Bruce against Lex’s desk, slowly tracing the curves and angles of Bruce’s body, and watching his eyes darken, flicker over his face. He loved when Bruce watched him so intensely; it felt like he was being absorbed from the inside out. He liked being the total focus of his attention…that’s what it was about Bruce. He made him feel like he was important, like he was needed. He pushed open the jeans, dragged them down over his hips and started to go to his knees, hands already gliding over the hot silky skin of Bruce’s dick, his lips brushed the head and Bruce said, “No.”
Clark looked up quickly, sure he’d done something wrong, but Bruce just shook his head, and pulled Clark back up. He pressed the bottle into Clark’s hand, and kissed him on the cheek.
“Fuck me. Remember? You said you would.”
Clark felt a surge of lust and a faint echo of that feeling of owning the world swept over him. He grinned and stepped back to look at Bruce. It was a good look. Bruce leaned back against the glass desk, elbows locked, legs spread as wide as he could get them with the jeans pulled tight around his thighs, shirt open over his trembling abs—he looked like sex. From his toes to his head, Clark thought, hot, hard, sweaty sex.
Clark spun Bruce around and bent his head towards the desk. He shoved the shirt up around his shoulders, rubbed circles on his back, down his spine, down to his hips, when he reached his ass, Bruce hissed and rose on his toes, bent forward more. Clark watched his reaction with absorbed fascination; he touched him lightly, slid his finger gently down his cleft, and watched Bruce shiver. He pushed in more, gently, slowly until his finger nudged against the tight ring of muscle, and Bruce moaned. He rubbed again, and again until Bruce was copying his movements and trying to capture him, force his finger in –Clark kept teasing, dipping his finger into him until Bruce broke, his voice was rough and raw as he begged for it. Clark laughed and slicked himself, murmuring into Bruce’s skin what he was going to do to him, and Bruce cursed softly and when Clark slid in, they both gasped aloud.
Bruce wanted to scream, to pass out, wanted to be able to breath again, and Clark moved a little and Bruce never wanted it to end. It was like nothing he’d ever imagined. It hurt and felt so good, Clark was pushing in and telling him how wonderful, how hot he was, how good he felt, every word went straight to his dick—he wasn’t going to survive this. His heart hammered and his blood pounded in his ears and his throat felt like it was on fire—ah. Clark shifted and his brain let his body know that something incredible had just happened—lightening poured through him, lighting every nerve like they were fuses and Clark wasn’t talking any more, he was gasping and groaning—and Bruce could hear himself, and wondered idly if he’d be embarrassed at the sounds he was making, and then thought-- oh, Lex’s desk-- and came over it. Clark yanked him back hard and ground into him and he could feel him flex and yell and shake, the waves of Clark’s orgasm making him shake in sympathy, groan as the after shocks of his orgasm caught up in Clark’s.
********
Damn. His face was stuck to the glass, he was covered in sweat and his back hurt, his thighs were killing him being from pressed into the edge of the desk, his hips were throbbing and surely bruised and his dick was sliding around in a sticky mess and he felt– fantastic. A laugh bubbled up before he could stop it, and he felt Clark’s chuckle rumble against his back.
Suddenly they were both laughing, Bruce wasn’t sure why but it felt good, and when Clark pulled him upright and kissed him, it felt perfect.
Clark looked around him at Lex’s desk and winced. “Boy, I hope none of that stuff was important,” he muttered. Bruce glanced and grimaced. “No wonder my cheek is sore," and stared sternly at Clark when he giggled. “This cheek,” he said as he peeled a staple off of his cheekbone.
Clark snickered again and nudged him towards the door. “Go. Shower, get packed, I’ll clean up this mess.”
Bruce smiled and said, “Maybe you want to get something on, the staff will be up soon, and you came in here naked.” He smiled a little wider when Clark blushed -- And there’s the shy kid I met once upon a time, he thought.
TBC--- can you believe it? *goggles quietly*
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10/6/04 02:03 am (UTC)Why is Bruce leaving? I forgot.
Well, no matter because Bruce got his cherry popped!
*snickers*
Oh, man! I'm sooo punchy! Haven't slept in 38 hours! Whoot!
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10/6/04 02:54 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/6/04 08:05 am (UTC)*nubs you*
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10/6/04 04:56 pm (UTC)