Brothers And Heroes part 35 ...oy.
2/17/06 12:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyPrevious Parts are here thrilled to death over their love notes. Don’t compliment them, it just makes them obnoxious
Oh gosh, this thing is getting to me. It’s in my mind all the time, but just in a judging, bitter kind of way. All of them hate me. It’ time to get my beloved Clubby out and dusted off.That’s right—‘it’s clobberin’time!’
Grumbling all the way, Bruce brought a stack of folded laundry into Lex’s room at Martha’s command, dropped it on the bed. He huffed, let Lex put it away himself. It was completely unfair that it was the weekend and he still was working. Where the heck was Lex, where was Clark?
He was on his way out of the room when a notebook on Lex’s desk caught his eye.
He read the open page, scrawled over with a list of things Lex would need in the fall when he left for Princeton. Another sheet of paper with little square boxes aligned along one edge of the page were carefully and precisely ticked off.
Bruce sighed at this reminder of the changes this fall would bring. The thought of it gnawed at him constantly--the feeling he had that Lex was just waiting to leave, perched on the edge like a bird about to fly.
A folded sheet with Lionel’s name on it lay next to the list. Bruce wondered about the note, he knew Lex kept contact with his dad to a minimum. He poked at the mess on the desktop, looking at it made him feel funny. Lex used to be so precise and neat, everything in its place and a place for everything. Bruce smiled a little. He looked around the room, curtains still closed, wrinkled pants tossed on the unmade bed, the shirts on the floor jumbled with socks and shoved half under the bed. He shook his head and grabbed some of the clothes from the floor, and looked for the hamper Ma kept in each room. He just managed to keep from stroking the shirts.
He tossed socks in the hamper and folded the few clean shirts he found tangled in the covers, he straightened the covers on the bed and opened the curtains and before he knew it he was cleaning Lex’s room. It wasn’t right, that it should be so messy and disorganized. It wasn’t Lex.
The pile of clean clothes went into an upper drawer in the dresser. He pushed the undershirts his mom had carefully folded inside and his fingers bumped against something, a box under the other shirts there. He hesitated for a moment and then eased the box out.
Out of the drawer, it was just an old-fashioned tin cookie box. He shook it and a dry rustle issued from it. He set in on top of the dresser and pried the lid off. A pile of papers, pictures, and cards stuffed it, it was exactly the sort of thing one would expect to find in an old box. He took a card from it, a cheap ‘humorous’ card, a drugstore card, the kind a kid gets his girlfriend---the box pitched off the top of the dresser and hit the carpet, spilling its contents everywhere.
“Shit!” he hissed and dropped to his knees. He looked at the mess of paper and photos, and every fiber of his rational being told him, scoot it back together and put the damn stuff away…and the part of him that had smiled at Clark when he’d trapped Lex on the ladder told him, oh no-you should look, maybe it will help you understand Lex, it’ll be good for the both of you, really…
He scooped up a handful of photographs, 35mm prints and a few Polaroids, and a little wire-bound notebook dropped out of his grasp and hit the floor. It spread open and on the page he read, Harry and I share a lot. His dad and my dad are made from the same pile of shit. Bruce reached for the notebook and it flipped open to another page. … like it. It’s not possible. Perhaps he thinks he does, has been trained to think…. Bruce shoved his thumb across the edge and another page read …I think I love him. I wish I could help him. It’s so frustrating, and he has no family to turn to, rather, no normal family. I never thought of myself as lucky until I met him... He dropped the notebook and looked at the stack of pictures in his hand. They were mostly of a big solid blonde guy that had to be Harry, a tiny girl that looked vaguely like…Clark. He frowned. Must be Victoria…there were a few taken of them all dressed up at what looked to be a ball. Lex in a tux and glowing, his eyes were on Harry and it made Bruce want to rip the picture in half. There were some of Vic. She posed against a variety of surfaces in a variety of states of undress. She had lips like Clark’s…Bruce licked his too dry lips and flipped through more pictures. Harry. Tied up, Harry, blindfolded. Being fucked. Being used by both of them.
Every picture was what Lex did to Harry, what Harry did for him.
Bruce’s hands shook and he shoved the pictures into a messy pile and crammed them back into the box. His breath shook and his heart pounded. There were cards on the floor, they all said the same thing, I love you, Lex, I love you, and he shoved them back in the box too. Letters, he was afraid to look at, but he came back to the pictures like a kid picking at a scab. He looked at the photos that ended on top, a few really beautiful black and white pictures that looked professional, pictures of Harry and Lex in deep bent grass--flowers, a garden maybe--laying on their clothes, he could make out a tie, white shirts, dark pants. And beautiful. So beautiful. He hated the picture of Harry, head back and Lex biting at his throat, Harry obviously oblivious to the photographer…he flipped the photo and scribbled across the back was ‘don’t tell me I don’t love you—enjoy. Vic’
In the next one Harry bent over Lex, who held thick handfuls of pale curls and looked down, his eyes wide, lip pulled between his teeth. Bruce slipped the picture between a few others. He’d never seen Lex like that. When Lex came to him, he was always so still in his hands. He thought Lex was just that way. Pliant, reserved and so very quiet--not like this, not at all....
Harry, light, light eyes, blue or maybe green or gray…and a cloud of blond curls in the sun, sun all over him—Lex all over him, kissing and touching him, in him and on him like every part of Harry was his.
It was like stabbing himself in the heart and twisting the knife.
He straightened the pictures, refolded the cards and letters, closed the notebook. Snapped the lid back on the tin. He carefully put the box back, put the undershirts over it. Okay. This was something—past. Something that Lex was getting over. "It's stupid to be jealous," he said,and his gut folded in on itself, his nails bit into his palm. Take a breath, deep breath, relax. Leave. He guided himself step by step out of the room; back down the stairs, into the kitchen.
“Bruce? Are you okay, sweetie?”
He nodded and even smiled. “Yeah, sure.” He poured a glass of milk, sat at the table and watched her, absorbed in the process of making cookies.
“What took you so long, honey?” She floated past him with a distracted expression and an oven mitt in her hand. Bruce could smell cookies baking.
“I straightened up Lex’s room—it was a mess.” He sat and drank the milk, ate the still warm cookies she put in front of him. Complimented her on the new recipe. “The cinnamon is great in there, Ma.” The perfect circles of cinnamon gold looked like little suns on the green plate. He bit into another.
She beamed. “Thanks dear. I can see you do like them,” she said as Bruce wolfed the cookies down.
“How much longer before Clark and Lex are back from school shopping, you think?”
“Could be a while yet, they’re going to a matinee too. I’m so glad Lex took him instead, we just argue over everything these days, Clark and I. He’s so stubborn.”
Bruce gulped at the glass of milk and choked a little. “’Scuse me, yes ma’m, stubborn…do you mind if I head over to Mac’s then?”
“No--"she checked the time. “No, go ahead. I’m not keeping dinner for you though.”
“No, that’s okay, I’ll eat in town.” He stood and kissed her cheek. “I really love you, Ma. I love you a lot.”
“Well, goodness, thanks,” she smiled, a faint look of puzzlement in her eyes. “Go, have fun.”
Right before Bruce walked out, she called. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
He turned and smiled at her. “What?”
“Anything. You can talk to me about anything at all, if you want to…”
Bruce glanced at her and back toward the outside. “I know, Ma. Thanks for that too.” He trotted down the steps and out to the drive and felt her eyes on him.
******
Mac watched him, a faint frown on his face. Damn it, Bruce thought. He’s going to grab me—he glanced at Sean across the studio, and Sean smirked. Fucker. He knew Mac was going to read the riot act to him…
After the younger students left, and the older students had brought order back to the studio, Mac told Bruce he wanted to speak to him. Sean shrugged and grabbed his bag.
“Want me to hang around? Need a ride?”
“No thanks—got the truck.”
“Oooh, since you got your license you don’t need me anymore, hunh? Well, for that and...other things either.”
Bruce made a face at Sean. “Beat it, will you, Mac's waiting.”
“Uhm. See you later, Big Guy.”
Bruce colored faintly. “Shut up Sean.”
Sean laughed. “Aww, sorry. No pet names in public, I got it…” He still let his eyes linger over Bruce’s body; by the time he got to his eyes Bruce was angry and blushing furiously. “I really would like to get together with you some time soon—you know I’m leaving a few weeks.”
Bruce nodded. “Yeah, okay. We’ll get together before you go.”
“Great, I’ve been lonely now that you’re so busy with your cousin,” he said, slapped Bruce on the back and headed out. Bruce watched him go and growled. Sean made him so mad, right up until he looked in his face and caved. Why couldn’t he be with Sean the way he was with Lex?
****
Mac got to right to business when Bruce shut the door.
“You’ve been slacking off Kent. You’ve been losing control. You’re not as focused as you’re capable of being—what’s going on?”
Bruce shook his head, and Mac glowered. “This class may not be your entire life, but when you’re in this studio, act like it is.” He softened slightly. “You can always talk to me about anything Bruce, if you need a sympathetic ear.”
Bruce sighed. “Nothing’s wrong Mac.”
“Is it your cousin?”
Bruce managed not to jerk his head up. He answered evenly, “No sir, why do you ask?”
“Seemed to me that his arrival coincided with your loss of concentration. Sometimes family can be…problematic.” He smiled faintly and offered Bruce tea, a ritual they both enjoyed.
Bruce took a moment, letting the flavor of the tea fill his mouth, and thought about what he wanted to say.
“We get along good—he’s the best. It’s…nothing really, nothing that has to do with him. I guess if anything is bothering me, it’s that Clark and I are a little at odds. Actually he’s a little at odds with the world at the moment.”
Mac looked up from his cup and said, “Clark? He seems the same as he ever was. He’s started working out with Sean lately. He’s good too. A little hesitant maybe, but he’s got great potential, like you…”
Mac took in the look of surprise on Bruce’s face. “Didn’t you know? Guess he wanted to surprise you,” he flashed a quick grin. “Don’t let on I told you.”
Bruce just shook his head, a smile frozen on his face. Clark shouldn’t be taking judo—what if he accidentally hurt some one, or did something suspicious? This was just too dangerous. Why in the world would he want to take judo now anyway?
Bruce walked out of the studio and headed towards the Talon. Maybe he could catch up with them at the movies.
Oh gosh, this thing is getting to me. It’s in my mind all the time, but just in a judging, bitter kind of way. All of them hate me. It’ time to get my beloved Clubby out and dusted off.That’s right—‘it’s clobberin’time!’
Grumbling all the way, Bruce brought a stack of folded laundry into Lex’s room at Martha’s command, dropped it on the bed. He huffed, let Lex put it away himself. It was completely unfair that it was the weekend and he still was working. Where the heck was Lex, where was Clark?
He was on his way out of the room when a notebook on Lex’s desk caught his eye.
He read the open page, scrawled over with a list of things Lex would need in the fall when he left for Princeton. Another sheet of paper with little square boxes aligned along one edge of the page were carefully and precisely ticked off.
Bruce sighed at this reminder of the changes this fall would bring. The thought of it gnawed at him constantly--the feeling he had that Lex was just waiting to leave, perched on the edge like a bird about to fly.
A folded sheet with Lionel’s name on it lay next to the list. Bruce wondered about the note, he knew Lex kept contact with his dad to a minimum. He poked at the mess on the desktop, looking at it made him feel funny. Lex used to be so precise and neat, everything in its place and a place for everything. Bruce smiled a little. He looked around the room, curtains still closed, wrinkled pants tossed on the unmade bed, the shirts on the floor jumbled with socks and shoved half under the bed. He shook his head and grabbed some of the clothes from the floor, and looked for the hamper Ma kept in each room. He just managed to keep from stroking the shirts.
He tossed socks in the hamper and folded the few clean shirts he found tangled in the covers, he straightened the covers on the bed and opened the curtains and before he knew it he was cleaning Lex’s room. It wasn’t right, that it should be so messy and disorganized. It wasn’t Lex.
The pile of clean clothes went into an upper drawer in the dresser. He pushed the undershirts his mom had carefully folded inside and his fingers bumped against something, a box under the other shirts there. He hesitated for a moment and then eased the box out.
Out of the drawer, it was just an old-fashioned tin cookie box. He shook it and a dry rustle issued from it. He set in on top of the dresser and pried the lid off. A pile of papers, pictures, and cards stuffed it, it was exactly the sort of thing one would expect to find in an old box. He took a card from it, a cheap ‘humorous’ card, a drugstore card, the kind a kid gets his girlfriend---the box pitched off the top of the dresser and hit the carpet, spilling its contents everywhere.
“Shit!” he hissed and dropped to his knees. He looked at the mess of paper and photos, and every fiber of his rational being told him, scoot it back together and put the damn stuff away…and the part of him that had smiled at Clark when he’d trapped Lex on the ladder told him, oh no-you should look, maybe it will help you understand Lex, it’ll be good for the both of you, really…
He scooped up a handful of photographs, 35mm prints and a few Polaroids, and a little wire-bound notebook dropped out of his grasp and hit the floor. It spread open and on the page he read, Harry and I share a lot. His dad and my dad are made from the same pile of shit. Bruce reached for the notebook and it flipped open to another page. … like it. It’s not possible. Perhaps he thinks he does, has been trained to think…. Bruce shoved his thumb across the edge and another page read …I think I love him. I wish I could help him. It’s so frustrating, and he has no family to turn to, rather, no normal family. I never thought of myself as lucky until I met him... He dropped the notebook and looked at the stack of pictures in his hand. They were mostly of a big solid blonde guy that had to be Harry, a tiny girl that looked vaguely like…Clark. He frowned. Must be Victoria…there were a few taken of them all dressed up at what looked to be a ball. Lex in a tux and glowing, his eyes were on Harry and it made Bruce want to rip the picture in half. There were some of Vic. She posed against a variety of surfaces in a variety of states of undress. She had lips like Clark’s…Bruce licked his too dry lips and flipped through more pictures. Harry. Tied up, Harry, blindfolded. Being fucked. Being used by both of them.
Every picture was what Lex did to Harry, what Harry did for him.
Bruce’s hands shook and he shoved the pictures into a messy pile and crammed them back into the box. His breath shook and his heart pounded. There were cards on the floor, they all said the same thing, I love you, Lex, I love you, and he shoved them back in the box too. Letters, he was afraid to look at, but he came back to the pictures like a kid picking at a scab. He looked at the photos that ended on top, a few really beautiful black and white pictures that looked professional, pictures of Harry and Lex in deep bent grass--flowers, a garden maybe--laying on their clothes, he could make out a tie, white shirts, dark pants. And beautiful. So beautiful. He hated the picture of Harry, head back and Lex biting at his throat, Harry obviously oblivious to the photographer…he flipped the photo and scribbled across the back was ‘don’t tell me I don’t love you—enjoy. Vic’
In the next one Harry bent over Lex, who held thick handfuls of pale curls and looked down, his eyes wide, lip pulled between his teeth. Bruce slipped the picture between a few others. He’d never seen Lex like that. When Lex came to him, he was always so still in his hands. He thought Lex was just that way. Pliant, reserved and so very quiet--not like this, not at all....
Harry, light, light eyes, blue or maybe green or gray…and a cloud of blond curls in the sun, sun all over him—Lex all over him, kissing and touching him, in him and on him like every part of Harry was his.
It was like stabbing himself in the heart and twisting the knife.
He straightened the pictures, refolded the cards and letters, closed the notebook. Snapped the lid back on the tin. He carefully put the box back, put the undershirts over it. Okay. This was something—past. Something that Lex was getting over. "It's stupid to be jealous," he said,and his gut folded in on itself, his nails bit into his palm. Take a breath, deep breath, relax. Leave. He guided himself step by step out of the room; back down the stairs, into the kitchen.
“Bruce? Are you okay, sweetie?”
He nodded and even smiled. “Yeah, sure.” He poured a glass of milk, sat at the table and watched her, absorbed in the process of making cookies.
“What took you so long, honey?” She floated past him with a distracted expression and an oven mitt in her hand. Bruce could smell cookies baking.
“I straightened up Lex’s room—it was a mess.” He sat and drank the milk, ate the still warm cookies she put in front of him. Complimented her on the new recipe. “The cinnamon is great in there, Ma.” The perfect circles of cinnamon gold looked like little suns on the green plate. He bit into another.
She beamed. “Thanks dear. I can see you do like them,” she said as Bruce wolfed the cookies down.
“How much longer before Clark and Lex are back from school shopping, you think?”
“Could be a while yet, they’re going to a matinee too. I’m so glad Lex took him instead, we just argue over everything these days, Clark and I. He’s so stubborn.”
Bruce gulped at the glass of milk and choked a little. “’Scuse me, yes ma’m, stubborn…do you mind if I head over to Mac’s then?”
“No--"she checked the time. “No, go ahead. I’m not keeping dinner for you though.”
“No, that’s okay, I’ll eat in town.” He stood and kissed her cheek. “I really love you, Ma. I love you a lot.”
“Well, goodness, thanks,” she smiled, a faint look of puzzlement in her eyes. “Go, have fun.”
Right before Bruce walked out, she called. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
He turned and smiled at her. “What?”
“Anything. You can talk to me about anything at all, if you want to…”
Bruce glanced at her and back toward the outside. “I know, Ma. Thanks for that too.” He trotted down the steps and out to the drive and felt her eyes on him.
******
Mac watched him, a faint frown on his face. Damn it, Bruce thought. He’s going to grab me—he glanced at Sean across the studio, and Sean smirked. Fucker. He knew Mac was going to read the riot act to him…
After the younger students left, and the older students had brought order back to the studio, Mac told Bruce he wanted to speak to him. Sean shrugged and grabbed his bag.
“Want me to hang around? Need a ride?”
“No thanks—got the truck.”
“Oooh, since you got your license you don’t need me anymore, hunh? Well, for that and...other things either.”
Bruce made a face at Sean. “Beat it, will you, Mac's waiting.”
“Uhm. See you later, Big Guy.”
Bruce colored faintly. “Shut up Sean.”
Sean laughed. “Aww, sorry. No pet names in public, I got it…” He still let his eyes linger over Bruce’s body; by the time he got to his eyes Bruce was angry and blushing furiously. “I really would like to get together with you some time soon—you know I’m leaving a few weeks.”
Bruce nodded. “Yeah, okay. We’ll get together before you go.”
“Great, I’ve been lonely now that you’re so busy with your cousin,” he said, slapped Bruce on the back and headed out. Bruce watched him go and growled. Sean made him so mad, right up until he looked in his face and caved. Why couldn’t he be with Sean the way he was with Lex?
****
Mac got to right to business when Bruce shut the door.
“You’ve been slacking off Kent. You’ve been losing control. You’re not as focused as you’re capable of being—what’s going on?”
Bruce shook his head, and Mac glowered. “This class may not be your entire life, but when you’re in this studio, act like it is.” He softened slightly. “You can always talk to me about anything Bruce, if you need a sympathetic ear.”
Bruce sighed. “Nothing’s wrong Mac.”
“Is it your cousin?”
Bruce managed not to jerk his head up. He answered evenly, “No sir, why do you ask?”
“Seemed to me that his arrival coincided with your loss of concentration. Sometimes family can be…problematic.” He smiled faintly and offered Bruce tea, a ritual they both enjoyed.
Bruce took a moment, letting the flavor of the tea fill his mouth, and thought about what he wanted to say.
“We get along good—he’s the best. It’s…nothing really, nothing that has to do with him. I guess if anything is bothering me, it’s that Clark and I are a little at odds. Actually he’s a little at odds with the world at the moment.”
Mac looked up from his cup and said, “Clark? He seems the same as he ever was. He’s started working out with Sean lately. He’s good too. A little hesitant maybe, but he’s got great potential, like you…”
Mac took in the look of surprise on Bruce’s face. “Didn’t you know? Guess he wanted to surprise you,” he flashed a quick grin. “Don’t let on I told you.”
Bruce just shook his head, a smile frozen on his face. Clark shouldn’t be taking judo—what if he accidentally hurt some one, or did something suspicious? This was just too dangerous. Why in the world would he want to take judo now anyway?
Bruce walked out of the studio and headed towards the Talon. Maybe he could catch up with them at the movies.
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![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
2/17/06 05:58 pm (UTC)Great as always.
(no subject)
2/17/06 11:54 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/17/06 07:29 pm (UTC)Ooh, Bruce. You are *bad*.
Damnit, why won't the boys *talk*!!!
*flails*
*hugs you*
Luffs you, Miss Roxy!
(no subject)
2/17/06 11:54 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/17/06 08:23 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/17/06 11:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
2/18/06 12:04 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/18/06 01:28 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/18/06 11:00 am (UTC)I just caught up on the last 2 sections and loved them. Clark in the last one was amazing, scary and grown-up. Bruce's reaction shocked me too, but I could understand it.
I must admit that I'm liking Bruce less and less as this progresses. The boys all seem a little darker here than I'm used to seeing them.
I also want to know what's up with Clark and Sean. Are they just training?
I'm really enjoying this story.
(no subject)
2/18/06 06:06 pm (UTC)*waits for more*
(no subject)
2/19/06 03:58 pm (UTC)were HOT...I am more then eager to see more meetings between Bruce and Clark *g*
(no subject)
2/19/06 11:26 pm (UTC)that I think it's brilliant! I love all the little twist and turns and how it's just getting darker in the later parts. Poor boys! I also think that this AU was very interesting (Bruce and Clark = Brothers! OMG, the possibilities for different twisted storylines are almost endless!) And of course those porny bits were just... mindblowing. :) I love it!
(no subject)
2/20/06 05:38 pm (UTC)(no subject)
8/29/06 01:59 am (UTC)and you capture this just right.
Martha, you gotta push a little harder.
Boys, being all manly and stupid and not talking. :P