Dis Pater part 24
11/17/05 01:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyThe Previous Parts are here, selling pictures of their sister. Oh, my bad--that’s your sister….
Remember this heart-warming tale of brotherly love and devotion?
The garage doors swept silently open, waiting for him to drive in. Lucas parked in the spot reserved for the Porsche, and sat in the car for a few minutes listening to the sounds of the country.
Too fucking quiet out here. That’s what he hated about Smallville. Too damn quiet. He grabbed his bag from the back seat and went on into the house.
Now that he was back, he’d have to figure out what his next move was. He took his bag up to the room that was Lex’s and unpacked, laying his clothes into the drawers next to Lex’s. Hanging his clothes next to Lex’s, pressing his face against the things there, he searched for his scent. It was driving him nuts, not having him when he wanted him. He had to touch Lex’s things, smell them…he never could walk past Lex without touching him, sniffing him. Lex hated it but he didn’t say anything. Lucas liked that he never voiced it. The way he barely tolerated but submitted to it was arousing…sometimes it turned him on more than when he simply surrendered.
This thing happening now was his fault. If he hadn’t forced Lex out into a world he couldn’t handle, they wouldn’t be going through this now--he should have left him alone, drugged up and happy. At least when he was fucked out of his mind, he’d do anything Lucas wanted. He still laughed in his face but he did whatever he asked because Lex loved him, even when he pretended that he didn’t care, he wanted him. Lex loved getting fucked by him more than anyone else, he knew it. He could see it in his eyes whenever they played with other people—Lucas’ name was always on his lips when he came. Lex loved him, damn it. Why the fuck was he hiding from him? Where was he, why wouldn’t he tell him—
“Fucker!” Lucas kicked the closet door shut, cursed when it sprang back without shutting. “You fucker! Come back, god damn it! You come back!”
He slammed his foot against the door again and again until the wood splintered and sweat ran down his face, his neck. He stood in front of the closet, little bits of wood littering the floor, sides heaving and the harsh sound of his breath filling the room. He raised his head, and looked around the room…and started laughing.
What the fuck, he was destroying Lex’s room bit by bit—now the closet door was trash. He wiped his face and grinned at the sight of the empty spot on the wall where their portrait had been. The staff had done a pretty good job at disguising the evidence of the last time he was in that room. He kicked the closet door out of the way, and went in, stood by the shelves and ran his hand over Lex’s sweaters. He pulled one of them off the shelves, a light gray one, so fine and soft it felt like he had a cloud in his hands.
He held it to his face as he dropped back onto the bed, kicked off his shoes and lay there with his eyes closed and the sweater pressed against his mouth. Lex.
The truth was, without him, there was nothing, there was no Lucas without Lex. He didn’t want to disappear, he needed his brother. He drew in a shaky breath, mouthed the fine wool. He could smell a faint whiff of Lex’s scent in the damp fabric. He could feel dick shift, fill, drag against the cotton of his shorts. Lex.
Lex wouldn’t let him disappear. If he could explain to him what it was he needed he’d come back. He just needed a chance and Lex would come. Lucas sighed and rubbed the sweater over his face, he cupped himself, warmth spread through his groin and belly. The soft wool cradled his face, his breath blew back warm against his own cheek, the scent of his brother warmed and loosened the tight knot in his chest and he drifted into a dreamless sleep.
When he woke again, it was dark and so quiet. He was terribly aware that he was alone in the castle. He pulled Lex’s sweater on and slipped downstairs…he ended up in the entertainment room, a movie blaring and a sandwich on a china plate balanced on his knees. He had the gas fireplace lit, all the lights were on and the movie was actually funny. It felt almost normal, like it did long ago when they all lived here and that damn kid had been an amusing toy and not the reason he was hurting so much.
He sighed and dropped the plate onto the table in front of him, his appetite gone. It seemed he wasn’t getting away from his thoughts tonight.
He knew he did terrible things to Clark— he’d liked him and he did terrible things to him anyway but he’d had to-- he was in the way. He knew what Lex wanted from Clark and he’d known how much Clark wanted Lex. Couldn’t have that.
He stared at the screen, unseeing, his mind a million years away. He told himself for the hundredth time, if Clark really had wanted Lex that badly, he would have never let himself be distracted from his goal. Clark had been weak, he was still weak, and if you acted like a victim, than that’s what you became. That’s the way it worked.
He blinked too dry eyes and sighed. Everyone had a soft spot, though. Lex was his downfall. Loving Lex was going to kill him. He swallowed a giggle. Oh yeah. The thought followed him everywhere, popped up unexpectedly. He could be balls deep in someone, he could be in the middle of an important meeting, or just sinking into sleep, and the thought would yank him back wide awake, Loving Lex is going to kill you.’
Nowadays the thought made him smile. It used to make him break into a cold sweat.
What the fuck. Nowadays, he almost looked forward to it.
Remember this heart-warming tale of brotherly love and devotion?
The garage doors swept silently open, waiting for him to drive in. Lucas parked in the spot reserved for the Porsche, and sat in the car for a few minutes listening to the sounds of the country.
Too fucking quiet out here. That’s what he hated about Smallville. Too damn quiet. He grabbed his bag from the back seat and went on into the house.
Now that he was back, he’d have to figure out what his next move was. He took his bag up to the room that was Lex’s and unpacked, laying his clothes into the drawers next to Lex’s. Hanging his clothes next to Lex’s, pressing his face against the things there, he searched for his scent. It was driving him nuts, not having him when he wanted him. He had to touch Lex’s things, smell them…he never could walk past Lex without touching him, sniffing him. Lex hated it but he didn’t say anything. Lucas liked that he never voiced it. The way he barely tolerated but submitted to it was arousing…sometimes it turned him on more than when he simply surrendered.
This thing happening now was his fault. If he hadn’t forced Lex out into a world he couldn’t handle, they wouldn’t be going through this now--he should have left him alone, drugged up and happy. At least when he was fucked out of his mind, he’d do anything Lucas wanted. He still laughed in his face but he did whatever he asked because Lex loved him, even when he pretended that he didn’t care, he wanted him. Lex loved getting fucked by him more than anyone else, he knew it. He could see it in his eyes whenever they played with other people—Lucas’ name was always on his lips when he came. Lex loved him, damn it. Why the fuck was he hiding from him? Where was he, why wouldn’t he tell him—
“Fucker!” Lucas kicked the closet door shut, cursed when it sprang back without shutting. “You fucker! Come back, god damn it! You come back!”
He slammed his foot against the door again and again until the wood splintered and sweat ran down his face, his neck. He stood in front of the closet, little bits of wood littering the floor, sides heaving and the harsh sound of his breath filling the room. He raised his head, and looked around the room…and started laughing.
What the fuck, he was destroying Lex’s room bit by bit—now the closet door was trash. He wiped his face and grinned at the sight of the empty spot on the wall where their portrait had been. The staff had done a pretty good job at disguising the evidence of the last time he was in that room. He kicked the closet door out of the way, and went in, stood by the shelves and ran his hand over Lex’s sweaters. He pulled one of them off the shelves, a light gray one, so fine and soft it felt like he had a cloud in his hands.
He held it to his face as he dropped back onto the bed, kicked off his shoes and lay there with his eyes closed and the sweater pressed against his mouth. Lex.
The truth was, without him, there was nothing, there was no Lucas without Lex. He didn’t want to disappear, he needed his brother. He drew in a shaky breath, mouthed the fine wool. He could smell a faint whiff of Lex’s scent in the damp fabric. He could feel dick shift, fill, drag against the cotton of his shorts. Lex.
Lex wouldn’t let him disappear. If he could explain to him what it was he needed he’d come back. He just needed a chance and Lex would come. Lucas sighed and rubbed the sweater over his face, he cupped himself, warmth spread through his groin and belly. The soft wool cradled his face, his breath blew back warm against his own cheek, the scent of his brother warmed and loosened the tight knot in his chest and he drifted into a dreamless sleep.
When he woke again, it was dark and so quiet. He was terribly aware that he was alone in the castle. He pulled Lex’s sweater on and slipped downstairs…he ended up in the entertainment room, a movie blaring and a sandwich on a china plate balanced on his knees. He had the gas fireplace lit, all the lights were on and the movie was actually funny. It felt almost normal, like it did long ago when they all lived here and that damn kid had been an amusing toy and not the reason he was hurting so much.
He sighed and dropped the plate onto the table in front of him, his appetite gone. It seemed he wasn’t getting away from his thoughts tonight.
He knew he did terrible things to Clark— he’d liked him and he did terrible things to him anyway but he’d had to-- he was in the way. He knew what Lex wanted from Clark and he’d known how much Clark wanted Lex. Couldn’t have that.
He stared at the screen, unseeing, his mind a million years away. He told himself for the hundredth time, if Clark really had wanted Lex that badly, he would have never let himself be distracted from his goal. Clark had been weak, he was still weak, and if you acted like a victim, than that’s what you became. That’s the way it worked.
He blinked too dry eyes and sighed. Everyone had a soft spot, though. Lex was his downfall. Loving Lex was going to kill him. He swallowed a giggle. Oh yeah. The thought followed him everywhere, popped up unexpectedly. He could be balls deep in someone, he could be in the middle of an important meeting, or just sinking into sleep, and the thought would yank him back wide awake, Loving Lex is going to kill you.’
Nowadays the thought made him smile. It used to make him break into a cold sweat.
What the fuck. Nowadays, he almost looked forward to it.
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