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4/21/05 09:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyPart Five is here.
Goodness! Welcome, welcome, how lovely to see you! Anyone in the moood for a tasty cup of marshmallows and steaming Brex? ummmmm...well actually, more luke warm but that way you don't burn your tongue. It's way too cute to burn. *smile*
Strange Boys or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Game.
When Lex came back from dinner, he felt strange in the room. He couldn’t shake the feeling someone not his roommate had been in the room. He dropped onto the bed and scowled at the ceiling. How was he going to get Bruce naked? He’d have to snag him somehow. There was something fascinating about him, something... frightening. And he’d always been attracted to that….
A few days later when he was folding his laundry, he counted out in straight little rows into his dresser drawer, seven pairs of underwear, cotton, white, school regulation. He counted out three pairs of silk boxers, fuck the school regulations. He counted out seven cotton undershirts white…wait a minute, he thought. Flipped quickly through the neatly folded squares. Six undershirts—Bruce. He just knew he had something to do with that…ewww.
He stole a dirty undershirt. Pervert.
That was *so*fucking hot.
******
Bruce slept with the undershirt tucked beneath his pillow. He liked to roll it up under his head when he was jerking off, sometimes he draped it over his face and imagined Lex sitting in his lap, and doing things, exciting things. He liked to bite the material when he came, and imagine it was Lex's skin against his tongue.
In the mornings sometimes he’d wear the undershirt. It was too small and he could feel it pressing tight around his body like bandages when he moved. If Lex was anywhere around him and he had the undershirt on, it guaranteed an erection hard as diamonds. Lex knew about the shirt, he was sure. There was a challenge in his eyes whenever he saw him.
And then one night, he found…
******
Lex snuck into Bruce’s room using the master key. He licked and licked his lips, he’d worked hard to get that key *always handy to be friends with someone in the office, especially someone like Jean-Paul*and he planned to use it to his advantage. He closed the door behind him and locked it, he figured he’d have tops a half hour before Bruce came back from the gym. Good. He turned around and was struck by the utter barrenness of the room. It was clean as a lab and almost as friendly.
There was a desk by each bed, per regulation and of course there was a locked drawer in one desk. Of course. Lex made short work of the lock, a little trick taught him by one of his dad’s security guards. He’d also taught him this little trick with his tongue that made a person scream…. He popped open the locked drawer and pulled out a plain black covered photo album. It had the obligatory hair laid across it, a spill of powder tucked in it. *amateur* and that was it.
Lex was excited—this must be the porn! What got Bruce off? What strange freaky things did he do that made him prefer a solitary life?
He opened it and there were pictures, lots of pictures-- old pictures of a young woman holding a baby, and a happy looking man. There were various pictures of the man and woman, and one of the man standing in front of a huge building, Wayne Enterprises. So. Dad. Mom. And baby Bruce. How boring. But then the pictures changed to newspaper cuttings and the few newer photos were of a solemn little boy and an older man, obviously no relation…"Famous Researcher Gunned Down In Alley, Wife Shot-Son Only Witness" the headlines read, and variations thereof.
Lex sat back on his heels. Damn…there were tons of pictures and articles and handwritten notes, speculations and plans and Bruce was really screwed up….
Lex put everything back carefully; he was a master at hiding his tracks. But Bruce, Bruce was a master of suspicion; paranoia was Bruce’s full time hobby.
Lex missed a little curl of clear nylon thread drifting to the floor.
TBC
Goodness! Welcome, welcome, how lovely to see you! Anyone in the moood for a tasty cup of marshmallows and steaming Brex? ummmmm...well actually, more luke warm but that way you don't burn your tongue. It's way too cute to burn. *smile*
Strange Boys or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Game.
When Lex came back from dinner, he felt strange in the room. He couldn’t shake the feeling someone not his roommate had been in the room. He dropped onto the bed and scowled at the ceiling. How was he going to get Bruce naked? He’d have to snag him somehow. There was something fascinating about him, something... frightening. And he’d always been attracted to that….
A few days later when he was folding his laundry, he counted out in straight little rows into his dresser drawer, seven pairs of underwear, cotton, white, school regulation. He counted out three pairs of silk boxers, fuck the school regulations. He counted out seven cotton undershirts white…wait a minute, he thought. Flipped quickly through the neatly folded squares. Six undershirts—Bruce. He just knew he had something to do with that…ewww.
He stole a dirty undershirt. Pervert.
That was *so*fucking hot.
******
Bruce slept with the undershirt tucked beneath his pillow. He liked to roll it up under his head when he was jerking off, sometimes he draped it over his face and imagined Lex sitting in his lap, and doing things, exciting things. He liked to bite the material when he came, and imagine it was Lex's skin against his tongue.
In the mornings sometimes he’d wear the undershirt. It was too small and he could feel it pressing tight around his body like bandages when he moved. If Lex was anywhere around him and he had the undershirt on, it guaranteed an erection hard as diamonds. Lex knew about the shirt, he was sure. There was a challenge in his eyes whenever he saw him.
And then one night, he found…
******
Lex snuck into Bruce’s room using the master key. He licked and licked his lips, he’d worked hard to get that key *always handy to be friends with someone in the office, especially someone like Jean-Paul*and he planned to use it to his advantage. He closed the door behind him and locked it, he figured he’d have tops a half hour before Bruce came back from the gym. Good. He turned around and was struck by the utter barrenness of the room. It was clean as a lab and almost as friendly.
There was a desk by each bed, per regulation and of course there was a locked drawer in one desk. Of course. Lex made short work of the lock, a little trick taught him by one of his dad’s security guards. He’d also taught him this little trick with his tongue that made a person scream…. He popped open the locked drawer and pulled out a plain black covered photo album. It had the obligatory hair laid across it, a spill of powder tucked in it. *amateur* and that was it.
Lex was excited—this must be the porn! What got Bruce off? What strange freaky things did he do that made him prefer a solitary life?
He opened it and there were pictures, lots of pictures-- old pictures of a young woman holding a baby, and a happy looking man. There were various pictures of the man and woman, and one of the man standing in front of a huge building, Wayne Enterprises. So. Dad. Mom. And baby Bruce. How boring. But then the pictures changed to newspaper cuttings and the few newer photos were of a solemn little boy and an older man, obviously no relation…"Famous Researcher Gunned Down In Alley, Wife Shot-Son Only Witness" the headlines read, and variations thereof.
Lex sat back on his heels. Damn…there were tons of pictures and articles and handwritten notes, speculations and plans and Bruce was really screwed up….
Lex put everything back carefully; he was a master at hiding his tracks. But Bruce, Bruce was a master of suspicion; paranoia was Bruce’s full time hobby.
Lex missed a little curl of clear nylon thread drifting to the floor.
TBC
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