*koffexiledkoff*
11/23/04 10:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxySo, a long time ago I played with this story called Exiled, it was a lot of fun and I had a good time with it. and I ended it by slamming the door in Clark's face, and then everyone got in the van and we went to the seashore.
Well, all right, we didn't go to the shore (down the shore, New-Jerseyites say.)Any hoo--- I thought I'd play with it a bit again.'Cause I need a breather.
What went on before is right here!
Exiled
Lex’s life continued.
Without Clark true, but that wasn’t a problem. He missed Bruce more than he missed Clark.
He threw himself into his work and enjoyed it very much. His dad drove out sometimes for the weekend, and he enjoyed that very much. They talked about a wide variety of things and at the end of those weekends, he hugged his dad,and told him he loved him. His dad would do the same. It felt good. He went back to work on Mondays and never thought about Clark at all.
One warm and lazy afternoon, a letter was delivered. Hand delivered, no postage. Nothing on the outside of the envelope, No name, just a large ‘L’ scrawled across the front.
Lavender—a pale lavender, and slightly scented but not a scent he recognized. Something inexpensive and smelling a lot like…soap. The paper was heavy, deckle edged and rather expensive—for someone without a lot of money. Someone wanting to make an impression, it seemed. He unfolded the single sheet and written on it was I’m sorry. I love you.
He folded the sheet back into the envelope, tossed it into the garbage and opened his laptop.
Work, always work to be done.
Before he went to bed that night, he took the envelope out of the garbage and tossed it into a box on his desk.
The next afternoon, a letter was hand delivered. A pale lavender letter smelling of soap, and it went into the trash.
And that night went into a box on his desk.
Thirty-one days in August and for thirty days he received a pale lavender envelope. On the thirty first day, the envelope was plain white and contained a sheet of typing paper, and on it was also written I ‘m sorry, I love you.
The next day was the first day of September and no letter came. Not the next day or the day after that.
“He’s been in school for a month,” he told the mirror. He brushed his teeth. “I don’t care.” He told the mirror.
The week brought no message and he was glad. It had been an annoying reminder of what an idiot he’d been all summer long. Thank god, idiot no more.
The week after that, he shuffled through the envelopes on his desk before he opened his mail. At the end of the week his secretary apologized for not having personal correspondence to give him and he thought briefly about firing him but he really was good at his job.
After three weeks had passed with no new envelopes appearing he breathed a sigh of relief and thought that Clark had finally gotten over this bit of ridiculousness and moved on like he had.
Later that evening, when he closed his laptop, he knocked the box of letters off his desk. Thirty lavender envelopes fanned out on the floor and resting on top of them, a slightly grubby white envelope.
He gathered them up and decided it really was time to throw them away, past time. He put them in the box again, picked up the box and carried it to his room.He picked up the phone, called a discreet and reliable firm, made an appointment and packed his bag.
Metropolis. It’d been so long since he’d spent any time there it seemed like unknown territory to him. The last visit had been disastrous, what with the being dragged home and all. He smiled. This time should be much better.
He checked into the hotel, got comfortable in his room and called his discreet and reliable “firm.”
A short time later he was opening the door to a rather stunning young thing. He stepped back and invited her in.
She was a tall, beautifully built brunette with full red lips, big blue eyes and she didn’t remind him of anyone at all.
It was a pleasant evening, very nice. He hadn’t had sex since…it had been awhile.
She looked good with his dick in her mouth, and he was excited, very excited… He took his time, in no hurry to finish. He thrust in and out slowly. It was even better when he closed his eyes and held her head. And when he came it was a quiet wash of feeling and he sighed. It was good. She was good. He thanked her and he paid her and wished her a good night.
The next morning he was back in Smallville, hard at work.
The next week, he found a letter on his desk. It had no postage on it. It had no address on it. He sighed and hefted it in his hand.
How tedious.
Are we going to go through this again?’he thought. He laid the letter on his desk and went to the bar. Water would be good. A nice glass of wine…scotch.
Shit.
He picked the envelope up again and walked around his desk. Tapped it against the desk. Sipped at his scotch and thought about simply tossing it.
I’ll open it because…why not. He picked up the letter opener and carefully slit open the envelope, shook out two sheets of folded paper.
‘Dear Lex,
Hi, how are you? I hope you’re reading this, because I’m not sure if you got my other mail. That was me, the purple letters. I know it was stupid but I didn’t know what else to do. So I didn’t hear from you and maybe you don’t want to hear from me. Okay. But I’m going to write this anyway.
School has been a little harder this year. I wish I had someone to help me with this math. It’s stupid, I feel like I should know this stuff--'
Lex put the letter down and walked back to the bar, tapped his empty glass against the decanter. So, you need help with math. Okay. Damn it. All right.
He put the letter down again and was surprised to feel his chest heave. It felt tight and hot—he felt a bead of sweat roll down his neck. Fuck. Fuck!
He whirled and threw the glass hard as he could against the paneling and ripped the letter in two and threw it violently towards the trash.
He picked up the phone and snarled at his trembling hand.
“Let housekeeping know that there’s glass to clean up in the study. I’m going to bed.”
He showered and selected a pair of silk pajamas but reconsidered. It’s kind of cold tonight…really cold, I really should wear something warmer, heavier, it wouldn’t do to catch cold now—the factory’s so busy at the moment. Got to be there…he was humming a little now, as he pulled out his sleep wear for the night, pulled it out of it’s plastic sleeve. Brand new, never been worn, not—he slipped on the pants and buttoned up the shirt and got into bed.
He tried to clear his mind, flannel sliding over his dick as he twisted and turned in bed. It rose in response to the soft material touching him and he ignored it. He was tired; sleepy, he was going to sleep.
Clark’s face was right in front of him—his eyes shot open and he growled. He hadn’t really thought about him in so long…He closed his eyes again and saw Bruce, okay, Bruce was fine, he was great—he was on his knees and licking a broad wet stripe up his dick, squeezing his balls gently and making Lex rock into his mouth.
His knees trembled and he spread his legs, pushed the pajama bottoms down his thighs and gripped himself. He gave himself over to the fantasy, moving his hand over his erection and panting, imagining Bruce’s hot mouth moving on him— his muscles contracted and quivered as he came, grunting out Clark’s name, because the mouth on his dick was Clark’s…
Oh shit, oh fuck. Damn it.
Four o’clock in the morning and he was in his study reading the rest of the damn letter.
--this stuff but it just seems to slip around in my head. You always make it look so easy!
Any way, I guess I’ll go. I’m just going to pretend you’re reading these and keep writing you.
I think about you all the time, Lex.
I miss you.
Clark.
He fell asleep in the chair, the letter in a crumbled ball at his feet.
And I'll finish it, as Bob is my witless.
Well, all right, we didn't go to the shore (down the shore, New-Jerseyites say.)Any hoo--- I thought I'd play with it a bit again.'Cause I need a breather.
What went on before is right here!
Exiled
Lex’s life continued.
Without Clark true, but that wasn’t a problem. He missed Bruce more than he missed Clark.
He threw himself into his work and enjoyed it very much. His dad drove out sometimes for the weekend, and he enjoyed that very much. They talked about a wide variety of things and at the end of those weekends, he hugged his dad,and told him he loved him. His dad would do the same. It felt good. He went back to work on Mondays and never thought about Clark at all.
One warm and lazy afternoon, a letter was delivered. Hand delivered, no postage. Nothing on the outside of the envelope, No name, just a large ‘L’ scrawled across the front.
Lavender—a pale lavender, and slightly scented but not a scent he recognized. Something inexpensive and smelling a lot like…soap. The paper was heavy, deckle edged and rather expensive—for someone without a lot of money. Someone wanting to make an impression, it seemed. He unfolded the single sheet and written on it was I’m sorry. I love you.
He folded the sheet back into the envelope, tossed it into the garbage and opened his laptop.
Work, always work to be done.
Before he went to bed that night, he took the envelope out of the garbage and tossed it into a box on his desk.
The next afternoon, a letter was hand delivered. A pale lavender letter smelling of soap, and it went into the trash.
And that night went into a box on his desk.
Thirty-one days in August and for thirty days he received a pale lavender envelope. On the thirty first day, the envelope was plain white and contained a sheet of typing paper, and on it was also written I ‘m sorry, I love you.
The next day was the first day of September and no letter came. Not the next day or the day after that.
“He’s been in school for a month,” he told the mirror. He brushed his teeth. “I don’t care.” He told the mirror.
The week brought no message and he was glad. It had been an annoying reminder of what an idiot he’d been all summer long. Thank god, idiot no more.
The week after that, he shuffled through the envelopes on his desk before he opened his mail. At the end of the week his secretary apologized for not having personal correspondence to give him and he thought briefly about firing him but he really was good at his job.
After three weeks had passed with no new envelopes appearing he breathed a sigh of relief and thought that Clark had finally gotten over this bit of ridiculousness and moved on like he had.
Later that evening, when he closed his laptop, he knocked the box of letters off his desk. Thirty lavender envelopes fanned out on the floor and resting on top of them, a slightly grubby white envelope.
He gathered them up and decided it really was time to throw them away, past time. He put them in the box again, picked up the box and carried it to his room.He picked up the phone, called a discreet and reliable firm, made an appointment and packed his bag.
Metropolis. It’d been so long since he’d spent any time there it seemed like unknown territory to him. The last visit had been disastrous, what with the being dragged home and all. He smiled. This time should be much better.
He checked into the hotel, got comfortable in his room and called his discreet and reliable “firm.”
A short time later he was opening the door to a rather stunning young thing. He stepped back and invited her in.
She was a tall, beautifully built brunette with full red lips, big blue eyes and she didn’t remind him of anyone at all.
It was a pleasant evening, very nice. He hadn’t had sex since…it had been awhile.
She looked good with his dick in her mouth, and he was excited, very excited… He took his time, in no hurry to finish. He thrust in and out slowly. It was even better when he closed his eyes and held her head. And when he came it was a quiet wash of feeling and he sighed. It was good. She was good. He thanked her and he paid her and wished her a good night.
The next morning he was back in Smallville, hard at work.
The next week, he found a letter on his desk. It had no postage on it. It had no address on it. He sighed and hefted it in his hand.
How tedious.
Are we going to go through this again?’he thought. He laid the letter on his desk and went to the bar. Water would be good. A nice glass of wine…scotch.
Shit.
He picked the envelope up again and walked around his desk. Tapped it against the desk. Sipped at his scotch and thought about simply tossing it.
I’ll open it because…why not. He picked up the letter opener and carefully slit open the envelope, shook out two sheets of folded paper.
‘Dear Lex,
Hi, how are you? I hope you’re reading this, because I’m not sure if you got my other mail. That was me, the purple letters. I know it was stupid but I didn’t know what else to do. So I didn’t hear from you and maybe you don’t want to hear from me. Okay. But I’m going to write this anyway.
School has been a little harder this year. I wish I had someone to help me with this math. It’s stupid, I feel like I should know this stuff--'
Lex put the letter down and walked back to the bar, tapped his empty glass against the decanter. So, you need help with math. Okay. Damn it. All right.
He put the letter down again and was surprised to feel his chest heave. It felt tight and hot—he felt a bead of sweat roll down his neck. Fuck. Fuck!
He whirled and threw the glass hard as he could against the paneling and ripped the letter in two and threw it violently towards the trash.
He picked up the phone and snarled at his trembling hand.
“Let housekeeping know that there’s glass to clean up in the study. I’m going to bed.”
He showered and selected a pair of silk pajamas but reconsidered. It’s kind of cold tonight…really cold, I really should wear something warmer, heavier, it wouldn’t do to catch cold now—the factory’s so busy at the moment. Got to be there…he was humming a little now, as he pulled out his sleep wear for the night, pulled it out of it’s plastic sleeve. Brand new, never been worn, not—he slipped on the pants and buttoned up the shirt and got into bed.
He tried to clear his mind, flannel sliding over his dick as he twisted and turned in bed. It rose in response to the soft material touching him and he ignored it. He was tired; sleepy, he was going to sleep.
Clark’s face was right in front of him—his eyes shot open and he growled. He hadn’t really thought about him in so long…He closed his eyes again and saw Bruce, okay, Bruce was fine, he was great—he was on his knees and licking a broad wet stripe up his dick, squeezing his balls gently and making Lex rock into his mouth.
His knees trembled and he spread his legs, pushed the pajama bottoms down his thighs and gripped himself. He gave himself over to the fantasy, moving his hand over his erection and panting, imagining Bruce’s hot mouth moving on him— his muscles contracted and quivered as he came, grunting out Clark’s name, because the mouth on his dick was Clark’s…
Oh shit, oh fuck. Damn it.
Four o’clock in the morning and he was in his study reading the rest of the damn letter.
--this stuff but it just seems to slip around in my head. You always make it look so easy!
Any way, I guess I’ll go. I’m just going to pretend you’re reading these and keep writing you.
I think about you all the time, Lex.
I miss you.
Clark.
He fell asleep in the chair, the letter in a crumbled ball at his feet.
And I'll finish it, as Bob is my witless.
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*fangirl in me returns*
11/24/04 04:47 am (UTC)You wrote "Exiled"! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
I love the tone of Lex's voice! Guh. And hello, I like his fantasy, too.
Re: *fangirl in me returns*
11/24/04 05:14 am (UTC)Re: *fangirl in me returns*
11/24/04 05:00 pm (UTC)Re: *fangirl in me returns*
11/24/04 05:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
11/24/04 04:53 am (UTC)Now I have 3 WiPs to bug you about.
I love Lex's continued denial, and the way he's such a stubborn prick.
More please!
*bats eyelashes*
(no subject)
11/24/04 05:15 am (UTC)(no subject)
11/24/04 07:14 am (UTC)Why don't i remember this? Oh, i know why! 'Cause i have the memory of a freakin' 120 year old woman!!!
Grrrrrrrr...
The memories are in the right order, right? First to last?
:)
(no subject)
11/24/04 07:45 am (UTC)Exiled!!
11/24/04 07:53 am (UTC)Clark has the tenacity of a bulldog and no shame to speak of. Good on him!! If that's what it takes to get through to Lex, I'm all for it, though I can't help but imagine that it's a beating to the ol' ego. *G* <---big ol' nostalgic smile
Re: Exiled!!
11/24/04 02:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
11/24/04 08:37 am (UTC)(no subject)
11/24/04 03:00 pm (UTC)(no subject)
11/24/04 06:09 pm (UTC)(no subject)
11/24/04 08:51 am (UTC)(no subject)
11/24/04 03:01 pm (UTC)*wibble*
11/24/04 10:47 am (UTC){{huggles}}
ETA - I swear I can spell. *g*
Re: *wibble*
11/24/04 03:03 pm (UTC)Oh yes, very soon, very soon. This had been waiting for an ending forever!*G*
(no subject)
11/25/04 04:43 am (UTC)I am so glad you have picked up this baby. But ohhh the conflict of wanting to cheer you on in this and all your other series too. >_<. Hehe I will stick to one cheer at a time. Yay for Exile!
(no subject)
11/25/04 08:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
11/25/04 09:09 am (UTC)(no subject)
11/25/04 03:02 pm (UTC)(no subject)
11/25/04 05:36 pm (UTC)I just started reading this and it's probably a good thing--I would have had a stroke waiting a month and a half for this update. Now I'm looking forward to more!
(no subject)
11/26/04 06:49 am (UTC)*snorf*
I know, it's so bad to do that because there are so many WIP's out there I'm waiting desperately for an update on.(A Xander /Jesse story for one, that moved me beyond words and inspired Summer Story and is it ever going to be finished? *sob* )
(no subject)
11/24/12 07:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
11/25/12 06:20 pm (UTC)