Untitled Bruce/Lex Thingy
7/5/04 11:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyI suck at titles. I can hunt-peck at something all day long, happy as a clam( WTF does that mean anyway? Why is a clam happy...) and then I have to name it...shit. Other folks come up with these lovely evocative titles, and mine are on the order of --'It' or ,'Them'- or 'It Came With Them'...hmmm.That's actually not bad...See what I mean? Oh, well! I unleash more Brex on the world, tremble before my mighty paws clutching fic!
In this section, the boys get drunk, steal a car and drive to Mexico, where they meet up with a mysterious agent and a musical gunslinger, and have lotsa sex in the backroom of a seedy little bar...naw! I'm kidding!
Like ta see it? Here it is!
More Untitled Fic!
Things started to change a bit, as the time for Parent’s Day came closer. Parents came to visit about every two months. The school did it’s best to make it a festive affair, in its dour way. Bruce after two months was becoming nearly as attuned to Alexander’s moods as the boy was to his, and as time came closer to the parent’s visit, the kid radiated tension. He became clumsier, and startled when Bruce managed to catch him unaware, which, to Bruce's surprise, wasn’t that often.
Bruce tried to withdraw even more from the kid, because, he told himself, he really didn’t need this shit.
Day before the thing and the kid—Alexander, looked like a haunted scarecrow. He actually shook all that day. It was maddening. Bruce had no idea the kid was such a puss. He looked like he was about to burst into tears any minute. Bruce turned away in disgust, and finally just left the room.
He strolled around the grounds a bit, kicking at the piles of leaves and amusing himself by frightening the older boys.
He finally ended up on a bench under a huge oak. He stretched his legs out straight in front of him and studied the toes of his boots. They’re starting to look a little beat, it’s about time to get new ones, I guess…wonder where Alfred got them from, see if he can order some more...a new racquet too-- damn racquet ball is kicking my ass...kid was watching the other –damn! Don’t want to think about that little punk! He leaned his head back and watched the wind slowly stir the few leaves still on the branches.
“He is not my responsibility. Right.” The wind tossed the branches and a leaf or two fell towards him. I don’t have to worry about him because I don’t care. He’ a weepy little punk anyway. He jumped up and began stalking back the way he’d come. I don’t have time for runts who feel sorry for themselves. He swatted away a leaf furiously, took a quick look around to make sure no one saw him acting like a fool. Jesus, that brat was really getting on his nerves, making him act stupidly.Bastard, bastard, bastard he chanted in time to the sound of his heels stomping up the gravel pathway.
Bruce yanked the collar of his wool coat a little tighter, and wrapped his scarf a little more securely around his throat. Shit. He’s probably crying all snot and tears now…. Dammit, I’m cold; I want to go back to the room…
******
It was late evening by the time Bruce let himself in. He steeled himself to tune out the whining and whimpering, but the kid wasn’t even in the room.
Well, damn, that’s a relief, he thought. Checked the clock. Nine o’clock. He undressed and got into bed. Punched his pillow up a bit and rolled toward the wall, ready to drop off.
Ten o’clock and Alexander wasn’t in the room.
Eleven thirty, and he still wasn’t in the room.
Twelve o’clock, and Bruce sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, at this point furious with the kid for making him worry. Just as he started to stand, the door opened.
He thought for a lightening quick second, go back to bed, ignore it ignore *him*, but his mouth ran away from him.
“ Where the fuck have you been! If you’d gotten caught out there, they would have torn your ass up, you little idiot!”
“Who the fuck are you! My fucking mother!”
Bruce was shocked. This was the kid…yelling, *cursing*-- at him? What? He looked him over. He looked…off, strange. But weirdly calm, almost smug, just—*not* the boy he’d left in the room earlier that evening. *This* kid slinked over to his bed, turned and grinned at him with flat glassy eyes and it was just-- creepy...bad. What the hell?
He turned his back to him and stripped. Bruce narrowed his eyes when he saw the kid’s back. All the bruising he’d seen on him those first few days (no matter how the kid tried to hide them) had faded away, Bruce had pretty much forgotten about them, but here were new ones, purple starbursts across his shoulders, he could see some at the waist of his pants, looking like they dipped below the waistline—
“ You’re staring at me.”
Bruce’s instinct was to deny it, but he was afraid to speak. He was hard, and it freaked him, he just wanted to stop looking, stop thinking. He twisted till he was facing away from the other bed, not speaking, trying to blank out his mind, barely breathing…
Alexander didn’t speak again that night, but close to dawn, Bruce jerked awake--- he thought he heard a sound, maybe a laugh, maybe a sob.
TBC
In this section, the boys get drunk, steal a car and drive to Mexico, where they meet up with a mysterious agent and a musical gunslinger, and have lotsa sex in the backroom of a seedy little bar...naw! I'm kidding!
Like ta see it? Here it is!
More Untitled Fic!
Things started to change a bit, as the time for Parent’s Day came closer. Parents came to visit about every two months. The school did it’s best to make it a festive affair, in its dour way. Bruce after two months was becoming nearly as attuned to Alexander’s moods as the boy was to his, and as time came closer to the parent’s visit, the kid radiated tension. He became clumsier, and startled when Bruce managed to catch him unaware, which, to Bruce's surprise, wasn’t that often.
Bruce tried to withdraw even more from the kid, because, he told himself, he really didn’t need this shit.
Day before the thing and the kid—Alexander, looked like a haunted scarecrow. He actually shook all that day. It was maddening. Bruce had no idea the kid was such a puss. He looked like he was about to burst into tears any minute. Bruce turned away in disgust, and finally just left the room.
He strolled around the grounds a bit, kicking at the piles of leaves and amusing himself by frightening the older boys.
He finally ended up on a bench under a huge oak. He stretched his legs out straight in front of him and studied the toes of his boots. They’re starting to look a little beat, it’s about time to get new ones, I guess…wonder where Alfred got them from, see if he can order some more...a new racquet too-- damn racquet ball is kicking my ass...kid was watching the other –damn! Don’t want to think about that little punk! He leaned his head back and watched the wind slowly stir the few leaves still on the branches.
“He is not my responsibility. Right.” The wind tossed the branches and a leaf or two fell towards him. I don’t have to worry about him because I don’t care. He’ a weepy little punk anyway. He jumped up and began stalking back the way he’d come. I don’t have time for runts who feel sorry for themselves. He swatted away a leaf furiously, took a quick look around to make sure no one saw him acting like a fool. Jesus, that brat was really getting on his nerves, making him act stupidly.Bastard, bastard, bastard he chanted in time to the sound of his heels stomping up the gravel pathway.
Bruce yanked the collar of his wool coat a little tighter, and wrapped his scarf a little more securely around his throat. Shit. He’s probably crying all snot and tears now…. Dammit, I’m cold; I want to go back to the room…
******
It was late evening by the time Bruce let himself in. He steeled himself to tune out the whining and whimpering, but the kid wasn’t even in the room.
Well, damn, that’s a relief, he thought. Checked the clock. Nine o’clock. He undressed and got into bed. Punched his pillow up a bit and rolled toward the wall, ready to drop off.
Ten o’clock and Alexander wasn’t in the room.
Eleven thirty, and he still wasn’t in the room.
Twelve o’clock, and Bruce sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, at this point furious with the kid for making him worry. Just as he started to stand, the door opened.
He thought for a lightening quick second, go back to bed, ignore it ignore *him*, but his mouth ran away from him.
“ Where the fuck have you been! If you’d gotten caught out there, they would have torn your ass up, you little idiot!”
“Who the fuck are you! My fucking mother!”
Bruce was shocked. This was the kid…yelling, *cursing*-- at him? What? He looked him over. He looked…off, strange. But weirdly calm, almost smug, just—*not* the boy he’d left in the room earlier that evening. *This* kid slinked over to his bed, turned and grinned at him with flat glassy eyes and it was just-- creepy...bad. What the hell?
He turned his back to him and stripped. Bruce narrowed his eyes when he saw the kid’s back. All the bruising he’d seen on him those first few days (no matter how the kid tried to hide them) had faded away, Bruce had pretty much forgotten about them, but here were new ones, purple starbursts across his shoulders, he could see some at the waist of his pants, looking like they dipped below the waistline—
“ You’re staring at me.”
Bruce’s instinct was to deny it, but he was afraid to speak. He was hard, and it freaked him, he just wanted to stop looking, stop thinking. He twisted till he was facing away from the other bed, not speaking, trying to blank out his mind, barely breathing…
Alexander didn’t speak again that night, but close to dawn, Bruce jerked awake--- he thought he heard a sound, maybe a laugh, maybe a sob.
TBC
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![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
7/5/04 07:39 pm (UTC)Damn. Lurve it, and i don't even KNOW Bruce! I mean, at this age. At all. OR Lex.
You rock.
*bounce*
And! And!
Wanna know WHY the sudden turn-around for Lex... Did he finally fight back? Did he do drugs?
Surely he wasn't HAPPY to be all...fucked up....
Ahhhhh!!!
More! Now!
(no subject)
7/5/04 08:26 pm (UTC)Actually, I'm really ahead with this and planned to post some more tonight. Thanks for commenting so sweetly, my beloved audience! *Schmooch!*
(no subject)
7/5/04 10:19 pm (UTC)More!
*hugs you*
And damnit - WHY does my bloody Yahell status message keep SHUTTING ITSELF OFF!! I am here! I am chattable!!!
:)
(no subject)
7/5/04 08:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
7/5/04 09:03 pm (UTC)title ideas
7/5/04 09:52 pm (UTC)Re: title ideas
7/5/04 10:47 pm (UTC)(no subject)
7/6/04 03:43 am (UTC)(no subject)
7/6/04 04:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
7/6/04 04:40 am (UTC)(no subject)
7/6/04 05:15 am (UTC)(no subject)
11/10/12 09:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
11/11/12 12:51 am (UTC)