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Brothers & Heroes part 49
The Previous Parts are here, hurt because Mikey won't return their calls. And after they got tattooed and all....
In June, Alexander Luthor and Victoria Harrison married; the ceremony was held at a once fashionable Hotel a few miles out of Gotham city. It was still neat and white and gleamed in the sun at the end of the drive, but the gardens had been repaired with Luthor money, and the long stretch of beach below the lawn was no longer private. It didn’t matter to Lex. He was back where he’d been happiest, if just for a little bit, he could imagine being that happy again.
Victoria had been overjoyed at his choice of location.
“Oh no Lex, that’s just too good! Just picturing everyone’s face when they realize they’ve got to go to some low-rent, *way* out of the loop resort at the *Jersey* shore—“ she broke into peals of laughter. “And who can refuse? No one turns down Lionel Luthor’s summons. It’s perfect!”
It was a rare day that they shared breakfast. Vic was usually still sound asleep when Lex left for the office and Lex was re-thinking whether it was a desirable thing or not. She giggled again, looked at him and muttered, “Jersey….” Shook her head before sipping at her coffee.
Lex managed to keep smiling, and said nothing. There was nothing to say--Vic had no idea what the Hotel meant to him. It was second only to the yellow farmhouse in Smallville in terms of importance. He drank his orange juice slowly and watched Vic snap her toast into bite size bits and chew like she had a vendetta against her food.
Oddly, his dad had had the very same reaction when he mentioned a desire to have the wedding at the Hotel. It was unsettling at times, how similar Vic and Lionel’s sense of humor was. There were similarities between the two that invited Lex to keep on his toes around the both of them. He had to say, of the two of them, he was only certain that Vic loved him. And just as certain that ‘changed’ woman or not, her self-interest would over ride any sentimentality. He sometimes wondered how long they’d stay married after Grand-mama’s money landed in her lap.
He idly skimmed the paper, and an article low on the front page he’d missed the first time, caught his eye, made him stop and read. “In an increasingly less rare event, a costumed man evincing extraordinary powers, managed single handedly to release hostages during a convenience store robbery in lower Metropolis yesterday evening. The suspects were delivered to the police, unharmed and unconscious. Witness descriptions of the man were conflicting, though all statements agreed the man wore a mask. The costumed individual in this case was described as wearing black and green, other’s have been described as wearing red, or red and blue.”
The article described several unbelievable events, things the heroes of the stories were supposedly capable of doing and Lex thought of his own enhanced healing factors, some of the odd occurrences in Smallville. He thought about Clark and wondered if some of these sightings might be beings like Clark…he knew it wasn’t Clark. He wouldn’t come back and not come for him. He sighed and folded the paper. He was nearly certain of that.
*******
The weeks leading up to the wedding featured a series of wild mood swings on his part. Some days he’d been relieved beyond belief to have finally gotten his dad off his back—to some extent. Hardly a day went by without Lionel showing up unannounced in his office, but at least he’d stopped sending him itineraries or out to conduct meetings that felt like they were taking place on two levels and he was missing out on vital parts information. Most of his visits concerned the guest list, or appointments with caterers, musicians--not as much moral conflict involved there.
He couldn’t say those visits had been any more pleasant, but at least they only left him with a desire for aspirin, instead of world death by nuclear disaster. He kept his eye on his dad, forwarded all lists to the Harrison’s and let Vic soothe his ruffled feathers. She was very good at that—she or some amazing friend of hers always knew what he needed. Some days it was only Vic who kept him on track. He was genuinely comfortable at the thought of spending his life with her. She could be good company, and they had a connection, a real respect for each other, no matter what it looked like from the outside.
Of course, there’d been days when nothing was enough to distract him and he’d wanted to run screaming from the whole mess. He knew there was no real guarantee that Dad would leave him alone finally; he’d probably just look for different ways to run his life, he thought Vic would leave him all alone, or that she wouldn’t if Clark…or that Bruce and Clark would never ever come home again…but those were the bad days, and thankfully they came less and less.
The day it all came together and hit him hardest was the day the announcement ran in the Planet…
He’d been at his desk, the society pages spread over the glass top--couldn’t tear his eyes away from the slightly grainy picture. Here it was, the wedding made real. He remembered thinking he looked like a fucking ass in the picture, pressed into a tux, grinning like he’d stuck his finger in a light socket, and Vic just happily posing at his side. He’d been tempted to run, just…to where, he’d had no idea. He had nothing to run to, no one to go to.
He remembered how empty he’d felt, remembered leaning on the glass and thinking…staring into the sun—the tinted glass protected his eyes and he didn’t want it to. He’d wanted to see the bright true light of the sun, like he had long ago in summer.
And now—there was no place left to go but forward.
They stood on the lawn, a rolling sea of perfect green. In front of them was an arbor covered with tea roses imported for the occasion, under the arbor a minister stood at a lectern and there were more flowers…they walked down a roll of brilliant white canvas, away from the guests, towards the sea and Lex briefly entertained the thought of walking until he was under water and then…the sun flared on the white, white edge of the arbor, the minister cleared his throat and it began.
It was their wedding day…
Vic looked fantastic, she looked like she was made of sugar, frothy with lace, pearls and frosted in white satin. The Christos gown set her gamine good looks off perfectly. Her father stood at her side and for once seemed to actually notice he had a child. A mild look of affectionate regret passed between them and Lex knew—ten minutes into the reception and they’d be strangers again.
Lex didn’t need to look behind him to know where Lionel was sitting. He could feel his eyes like coals on the back of his neck. He glanced to his side and got a smirk from Dominic, his dad’s assistant. He had to admire the way he gave the impression of lots and lots of teeth behind the close-mouthed tight smile. No wonder Lionel employed him. There was an air of ‘Dad likes me’ best radiating from the fool. He had no idea he was standing in the position of best man because there was no one else Lex wanted to inflict with the role. The only ones who truly understood what the marriage was all about were Vic and himself, everyone else saw the façade, even his dad didn’t understand.
He looked at Vic and she winked and grinned. Her eyes sparkled and well they should, he’d seen just how much of Grand-mama’s money was finally being shook loose. Vic was thrilled—Lex as happy for her. She was finally, once and forever free of Pat and Richard, no doubt they felt the same sense of relief. She was set for life and as far as she was concerned the day couldn’t be more perfect.
The ceremony went off without a hitch. Perfect weather, perfect vows, and perfectly silent crowd. No one rushed down the swatch of canvas spread on the grass calling for the sham to end. No one yelled stop, stop—I love that man—or swept him up and away. But then, he didn’t really expect it to happen.
Afterwards, they were photographed a million times, and Vic smiled and mingled and all in all gave the performance of her life. Anyone watching her would think she was living her childhood dream, that Lex ws the great love of her life.
And they’d believe it of Lex too, if all they watched was his mouth. He’d learned early on how to smile convincingly and this afternoon, he brought that skill to dizzying heights. People at every turn shook his hand and hugged and attempted to kiss him and told him how happy, how wonderful he looked and Lex believed that, at least. He had it on good authority that he looked fabulous in the tuxedo. Not only had Vic told him, but the guy who came in to do alterations had shown him just how good he looked. He smiled, and the photographer snapped a picture. There’s one for the wedding album--probably the only genuine smile he’d smiled all day—the groom thinking about one of the best blowjobs he’d ever had and the bride had nothing to do with it.
He sighed. For some reason, he was horny, had been since they arrived. His eyes scanned the crowd, and he looked automatically for his type--tall, dark, and light eyes, preferably green, but blue would do. He liked them muscular, and butch, and he liked them to bottom…he sighed, and caught Vic lighting up. Bored all ready,, he thought, I better go entertain her.
Entertainment consisted of him trying to hold her up and Vic holding yards and yards of fabric around her waist. She kept laughing and he kept trying to shush her, making her laugh harder, at least until he wiggled his hand between them and rubbed her clit. She arched, got a good position and wrapped her legs around his hips and tried to get his dick deeper into her. It was awkward and uncomfortable, the position was terrible and it was hot as hell. She flung her arms around his neck and he gripped her thighs with clawed fingers and yanked her harder against him.
.”Fuck---fuck me harder, damn it.”
“You’re--so—-fucking-—demanding,” he puffed and slammed her back against the door, lifted her higher and dropped her so that his dick rammed deeper inside of her, his ass clenched and released as he hunched into her, slamming her again and again against the door, and she ground her teeth into his neck.
His tie was undone, the studs of his shirt somewhere, and she better help him find them and his pants were skimming the floor of the bathroom and hooking under his heels. Her spike heels were jabbing his back, each stab of heel made him wince and groan and made his dick jump--she arched again and moaned, he could feel her muscles clamping around him, leaned forward and sucked hard at her neck, the exposed swell of her breasts. She squealed and smacked him, “Bruises!” and lifted herself to drive harder on him, “Oh God--”
She was coming and he was coming and suddenly, the door flung open and they were on the floor, a pile of wet naked flesh and white lace and black wool and the most embarrassed matron ever open-mouthed above them, one hand clenched on the door knob and the other belatedly slapped over her eyes.
Vic hissed in his ear. “*That* was just beyond perfect.”
Lex groaned, a stud under his elbow stabbing him, his ass on the freezing cold tiles. She was still wrapped around him and he was still in her and it was too funny. “Thank you,” he laughed. “Thanks a lot.”
In June, Alexander Luthor and Victoria Harrison married; the ceremony was held at a once fashionable Hotel a few miles out of Gotham city. It was still neat and white and gleamed in the sun at the end of the drive, but the gardens had been repaired with Luthor money, and the long stretch of beach below the lawn was no longer private. It didn’t matter to Lex. He was back where he’d been happiest, if just for a little bit, he could imagine being that happy again.
Victoria had been overjoyed at his choice of location.
“Oh no Lex, that’s just too good! Just picturing everyone’s face when they realize they’ve got to go to some low-rent, *way* out of the loop resort at the *Jersey* shore—“ she broke into peals of laughter. “And who can refuse? No one turns down Lionel Luthor’s summons. It’s perfect!”
It was a rare day that they shared breakfast. Vic was usually still sound asleep when Lex left for the office and Lex was re-thinking whether it was a desirable thing or not. She giggled again, looked at him and muttered, “Jersey….” Shook her head before sipping at her coffee.
Lex managed to keep smiling, and said nothing. There was nothing to say--Vic had no idea what the Hotel meant to him. It was second only to the yellow farmhouse in Smallville in terms of importance. He drank his orange juice slowly and watched Vic snap her toast into bite size bits and chew like she had a vendetta against her food.
Oddly, his dad had had the very same reaction when he mentioned a desire to have the wedding at the Hotel. It was unsettling at times, how similar Vic and Lionel’s sense of humor was. There were similarities between the two that invited Lex to keep on his toes around the both of them. He had to say, of the two of them, he was only certain that Vic loved him. And just as certain that ‘changed’ woman or not, her self-interest would over ride any sentimentality. He sometimes wondered how long they’d stay married after Grand-mama’s money landed in her lap.
He idly skimmed the paper, and an article low on the front page he’d missed the first time, caught his eye, made him stop and read. “In an increasingly less rare event, a costumed man evincing extraordinary powers, managed single handedly to release hostages during a convenience store robbery in lower Metropolis yesterday evening. The suspects were delivered to the police, unharmed and unconscious. Witness descriptions of the man were conflicting, though all statements agreed the man wore a mask. The costumed individual in this case was described as wearing black and green, other’s have been described as wearing red, or red and blue.”
The article described several unbelievable events, things the heroes of the stories were supposedly capable of doing and Lex thought of his own enhanced healing factors, some of the odd occurrences in Smallville. He thought about Clark and wondered if some of these sightings might be beings like Clark…he knew it wasn’t Clark. He wouldn’t come back and not come for him. He sighed and folded the paper. He was nearly certain of that.
*******
The weeks leading up to the wedding featured a series of wild mood swings on his part. Some days he’d been relieved beyond belief to have finally gotten his dad off his back—to some extent. Hardly a day went by without Lionel showing up unannounced in his office, but at least he’d stopped sending him itineraries or out to conduct meetings that felt like they were taking place on two levels and he was missing out on vital parts information. Most of his visits concerned the guest list, or appointments with caterers, musicians--not as much moral conflict involved there.
He couldn’t say those visits had been any more pleasant, but at least they only left him with a desire for aspirin, instead of world death by nuclear disaster. He kept his eye on his dad, forwarded all lists to the Harrison’s and let Vic soothe his ruffled feathers. She was very good at that—she or some amazing friend of hers always knew what he needed. Some days it was only Vic who kept him on track. He was genuinely comfortable at the thought of spending his life with her. She could be good company, and they had a connection, a real respect for each other, no matter what it looked like from the outside.
Of course, there’d been days when nothing was enough to distract him and he’d wanted to run screaming from the whole mess. He knew there was no real guarantee that Dad would leave him alone finally; he’d probably just look for different ways to run his life, he thought Vic would leave him all alone, or that she wouldn’t if Clark…or that Bruce and Clark would never ever come home again…but those were the bad days, and thankfully they came less and less.
The day it all came together and hit him hardest was the day the announcement ran in the Planet…
He’d been at his desk, the society pages spread over the glass top--couldn’t tear his eyes away from the slightly grainy picture. Here it was, the wedding made real. He remembered thinking he looked like a fucking ass in the picture, pressed into a tux, grinning like he’d stuck his finger in a light socket, and Vic just happily posing at his side. He’d been tempted to run, just…to where, he’d had no idea. He had nothing to run to, no one to go to.
He remembered how empty he’d felt, remembered leaning on the glass and thinking…staring into the sun—the tinted glass protected his eyes and he didn’t want it to. He’d wanted to see the bright true light of the sun, like he had long ago in summer.
And now—there was no place left to go but forward.
They stood on the lawn, a rolling sea of perfect green. In front of them was an arbor covered with tea roses imported for the occasion, under the arbor a minister stood at a lectern and there were more flowers…they walked down a roll of brilliant white canvas, away from the guests, towards the sea and Lex briefly entertained the thought of walking until he was under water and then…the sun flared on the white, white edge of the arbor, the minister cleared his throat and it began.
It was their wedding day…
Vic looked fantastic, she looked like she was made of sugar, frothy with lace, pearls and frosted in white satin. The Christos gown set her gamine good looks off perfectly. Her father stood at her side and for once seemed to actually notice he had a child. A mild look of affectionate regret passed between them and Lex knew—ten minutes into the reception and they’d be strangers again.
Lex didn’t need to look behind him to know where Lionel was sitting. He could feel his eyes like coals on the back of his neck. He glanced to his side and got a smirk from Dominic, his dad’s assistant. He had to admire the way he gave the impression of lots and lots of teeth behind the close-mouthed tight smile. No wonder Lionel employed him. There was an air of ‘Dad likes me’ best radiating from the fool. He had no idea he was standing in the position of best man because there was no one else Lex wanted to inflict with the role. The only ones who truly understood what the marriage was all about were Vic and himself, everyone else saw the façade, even his dad didn’t understand.
He looked at Vic and she winked and grinned. Her eyes sparkled and well they should, he’d seen just how much of Grand-mama’s money was finally being shook loose. Vic was thrilled—Lex as happy for her. She was finally, once and forever free of Pat and Richard, no doubt they felt the same sense of relief. She was set for life and as far as she was concerned the day couldn’t be more perfect.
The ceremony went off without a hitch. Perfect weather, perfect vows, and perfectly silent crowd. No one rushed down the swatch of canvas spread on the grass calling for the sham to end. No one yelled stop, stop—I love that man—or swept him up and away. But then, he didn’t really expect it to happen.
Afterwards, they were photographed a million times, and Vic smiled and mingled and all in all gave the performance of her life. Anyone watching her would think she was living her childhood dream, that Lex ws the great love of her life.
And they’d believe it of Lex too, if all they watched was his mouth. He’d learned early on how to smile convincingly and this afternoon, he brought that skill to dizzying heights. People at every turn shook his hand and hugged and attempted to kiss him and told him how happy, how wonderful he looked and Lex believed that, at least. He had it on good authority that he looked fabulous in the tuxedo. Not only had Vic told him, but the guy who came in to do alterations had shown him just how good he looked. He smiled, and the photographer snapped a picture. There’s one for the wedding album--probably the only genuine smile he’d smiled all day—the groom thinking about one of the best blowjobs he’d ever had and the bride had nothing to do with it.
He sighed. For some reason, he was horny, had been since they arrived. His eyes scanned the crowd, and he looked automatically for his type--tall, dark, and light eyes, preferably green, but blue would do. He liked them muscular, and butch, and he liked them to bottom…he sighed, and caught Vic lighting up. Bored all ready,, he thought, I better go entertain her.
Entertainment consisted of him trying to hold her up and Vic holding yards and yards of fabric around her waist. She kept laughing and he kept trying to shush her, making her laugh harder, at least until he wiggled his hand between them and rubbed her clit. She arched, got a good position and wrapped her legs around his hips and tried to get his dick deeper into her. It was awkward and uncomfortable, the position was terrible and it was hot as hell. She flung her arms around his neck and he gripped her thighs with clawed fingers and yanked her harder against him.
.”Fuck---fuck me harder, damn it.”
“You’re--so—-fucking-—demanding,” he puffed and slammed her back against the door, lifted her higher and dropped her so that his dick rammed deeper inside of her, his ass clenched and released as he hunched into her, slamming her again and again against the door, and she ground her teeth into his neck.
His tie was undone, the studs of his shirt somewhere, and she better help him find them and his pants were skimming the floor of the bathroom and hooking under his heels. Her spike heels were jabbing his back, each stab of heel made him wince and groan and made his dick jump--she arched again and moaned, he could feel her muscles clamping around him, leaned forward and sucked hard at her neck, the exposed swell of her breasts. She squealed and smacked him, “Bruises!” and lifted herself to drive harder on him, “Oh God--”
She was coming and he was coming and suddenly, the door flung open and they were on the floor, a pile of wet naked flesh and white lace and black wool and the most embarrassed matron ever open-mouthed above them, one hand clenched on the door knob and the other belatedly slapped over her eyes.
Vic hissed in his ear. “*That* was just beyond perfect.”
Lex groaned, a stud under his elbow stabbing him, his ass on the freezing cold tiles. She was still wrapped around him and he was still in her and it was too funny. “Thank you,” he laughed. “Thanks a lot.”
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Lovely words. Perfect visuals.
I want to be happy for them, but it hurts. He doesnt' belong with her!!!
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I want to be happy for them, but it hurts. He doesnt' belong with her
at least she won't hurt him again, yes?
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Thanks so much!
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Dude, that's just....sad.
So damn sad.
And Bruce and Clark have abandoned him and...
*sniffle*
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Not for long--I promise!
*shnuggles you*
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He’d learned early on how to smile convincingly and this afternoon, he brought that skill to dizzying heights.
Woobie! This wedding is just heart-wrenching because you describe it so vividly. So much fake happiness. So much frustration and longing.
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He needs a goal....
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Vic looked fantastic, she looked like she was made of sugar, frothy with lace, pearls and frosted in white satin.
This was perfectly written though.
*sobs*
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Funny that Lionel should be so concerned with the details of Lex's wedding... but then, again, he does come across as the ultimate micro-manager.
Everyone giving Lex blowjobs. That is just too funny, because of course they would. Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor... Clark? so sad that "No one yelled stop, stop—I love that man—or swept him up and away."
I would! I would definitely carry him off, and then round up Clark and lock them together forever in an oubliette. (With a bed and food and everything, of course. Just no way out.:)
But then, you make me swing bittersweet happy with them getting caught in the bathroom. That IS perfect.
(And I am just glad it was not Clark that caught them.)
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Okay, that? made me laugh my ass off! God, you're so right! if you're a happy OC in a Roxy fic--yer gonna DIIIEEEEE!!! LOL!!
OMG--could it be I have some issues?? *biggrin*