![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Exiled
And more story! (prays hard for inspiration)
What went on before:Exiled memories
It was three hours to Metropolis. It was an hour to get to the new club, half an hour before the mainliners, fifteen minutes before Lex excused himself to go to the bathroom, slipped out side and hailed a cab—arrived at his favorite club in twenty minutes. And then ,he lost track of time, lost track of his tie and lost track of his jacket quickly after. Sometime later he lost track of his shirt.
He found old friends though. He found Terry in the back of the club, hunched over a little glass table in a lounge area between the bathrooms, a dark little alcove, private and plush with overstuffed couches and a scattering of tables suitable to hold drinks or other recreational drugs, Lex noted as Terry lifted his head, teeth bared in a ferocious smile. “Lex! “ he sniffed deeply. “Lex!” he licked his lips and patted the couch next to him. “Haven’t seen you in a long time, my friend! Where have you been?”
“Oh, recovering from almost dying,” he said as he sat.
“No shit? Wow, that’s rough,” Terry said it with no real concern, as though Lex had told him he had overdue library books. Lex didn’t give a shit either. Terry was an asshole, but he was a generous asshole, plus he had a great body, and he loved getting his dick sucked and he had…Lex leaned forward…coke?-- he thought, looking at the powder on the table. Grinned up at Terry. “Let’s figure out how we can help each other, shall we?”
He leaned over the small glass table and slid the razor against the glass, it moved smoothly slicing through the powder, cleanly separating it into lines. Lex liked handling the razor almost as much as he liked snorting the coke—he scraped the bit up on his key and inhaled— loved it when it hit and rode him.
It just seemed like the best idea in the world when Terry unzipped and waved his dick at him, to go down on him. Why not? Lex thought. After all, it wasn’t like he had anything or anyone to do right now, and he felt –warm, good, happy as shit, why shouldn’t Terry feel good too, the ass-hole. He dropped between Terry’s spread knees and grabbed his little fat dick in his hand and rolled his tongue across the tip, and Terry moaned and shoved his hips up. Lex relaxed and let him fuck his mouth, only moving to smack his hands away when he went for his head. Lex didn’t want those sweaty hands on him, touching him, and he pulled off Terry to let him know that was a Big Wrong—Terry groaned and babbled, “Sorry, sorry, no touching I forgot, I’m sorry!” Lex grinned and went back to his work. He sucked hard at the head, and Terry beat his fists against the couch cushions, sunk his fingers into them when Lex took him down to the base of his dick, and worked his throat muscles around it. God, what an ass-hole—Terry had the coke, he had the control, but he had no idea, too stupid to see it. Typical Terry. Lex thought it was lucky for him he had a nice dick, and Lex was into dick. When he laughed around the head, Terry clenched every muscle in his body and gasped so loud it was almost a scream, he jerked his hips and fucked Lex’s mouth in time to hoarse screams and started coming. Lex was caught off guard, and his throat worked frantically as he swallowed, trying not to choke and Terry lost his mind, it seemed as if he came forever.
Lex sat back and licked his lips, was about to ask Terry for another hit, when the man’s face turned paper white. Fuck, Lex thought, cops? —
A heavy hand dropped on his shoulder, and his stomach sank, worse than cops, worse than death—
Bruce.
He turned to face him with a smirk pasted on his face, wiped a finger through the semen on his lip before he stuck it in his mouth.
Bruce tightened his grip painfully on his shoulder. He had the lost jacket crushed in the other hand. Lex tried to keep smiling through the pain.
“ I should just leave you here,” Bruce rasped. The hand tightened again, and Lex fought to keep from gasping. Bruce glared at Terry. “ Get the fuck out,” Bruce snarled. Terry made a move towards the powder on the table, but drew back at the look on Bruce’s face. He hung immobile in a welter of indecision, but when a growl like a German Shepard came from between Bruce’s clenched teeth, Terry proved he wasn’t too stupid to have a sense of self-preservation, and ran.
Bruce’s grip tightened, and Lex’s eyes dropped shut and he hissed. Tightened again and Lex finally gasped aloud, felt like bone was being crushed. He was going to have a horribly spectacular bruise in the morning, if he lived through the night.
“You fucking little ass-hole junkie- wanna-be—I promised your father I’d take care of you!” Bruce shook him a little with each word, shooting lances of pain through his shoulder.
In Lex’s drug bleary and pain-addled mind, he heard it as ‘take care of’ in the mafia sense. He burst into tears at the thought that Bruce would let his father talk him into killing his childhood friend.
Bruce smacked him, hard enough to knock him down. Fuck, this was it, he was, really truly mad-- mad at him! He sobbed, god he was a dead man--
Bruce loomed above him, and his face was in shadow, only his mouth twisted in a curl of disgust was visible.
“ Stop crying! Get up!” He yanked Lex to his feet and wrapped a hand around his throat, and squeezed lightly, just enough to break through Lex’s haze of drugs and self-pity. Lex’s eyes dried as the reflex to protect himself kicked in.
“Get the fuck off me!” He yelled and tried to kick out at Bruce, but his leg was gripped between Bruce’s’ and he couldn’t move. He was pressed full length against him, so tight he could hardly draw breath.
And then, he noticed that Bruce wasn’t moving, and his eyes were closed. At the same moment that it registered Bruce was breathing heavily into his neck, he also realized he was hard. Without thought he pressed into Bruce and Bruce rocked back with a little moan. “Lex, Lex, why won’t you let me –every one else can, why not me?” He sounded so plaintive and young, not at all like the huge guy who was pressing an iron rod into Lex’s stomach. Lex groaned deep in his throat, and asked himself the same question—why not? Bruce was damn hot, he’s known him forever, they keep skirting on the edge of it, messing up pants and their minds and--
“I don’t know. Stop, stop.” he gasped. He jerked as Bruce reached between them and palmed his erection. “Not here, not here,” Lex moaned. “Home, please?”
Bruce looked dizzy and glazed. “Wha—your penthouse,” he panted.
“No,” Lex sighed. "I want to go back to Smallville."
“But--but,” Bruce began. “It’s a long ride, and” …He sighed and released Lex. He knew it was Lex’s way of backing him off with out hurting his feelings—much.
TBC
What went on before:Exiled memories
It was three hours to Metropolis. It was an hour to get to the new club, half an hour before the mainliners, fifteen minutes before Lex excused himself to go to the bathroom, slipped out side and hailed a cab—arrived at his favorite club in twenty minutes. And then ,he lost track of time, lost track of his tie and lost track of his jacket quickly after. Sometime later he lost track of his shirt.
He found old friends though. He found Terry in the back of the club, hunched over a little glass table in a lounge area between the bathrooms, a dark little alcove, private and plush with overstuffed couches and a scattering of tables suitable to hold drinks or other recreational drugs, Lex noted as Terry lifted his head, teeth bared in a ferocious smile. “Lex! “ he sniffed deeply. “Lex!” he licked his lips and patted the couch next to him. “Haven’t seen you in a long time, my friend! Where have you been?”
“Oh, recovering from almost dying,” he said as he sat.
“No shit? Wow, that’s rough,” Terry said it with no real concern, as though Lex had told him he had overdue library books. Lex didn’t give a shit either. Terry was an asshole, but he was a generous asshole, plus he had a great body, and he loved getting his dick sucked and he had…Lex leaned forward…coke?-- he thought, looking at the powder on the table. Grinned up at Terry. “Let’s figure out how we can help each other, shall we?”
He leaned over the small glass table and slid the razor against the glass, it moved smoothly slicing through the powder, cleanly separating it into lines. Lex liked handling the razor almost as much as he liked snorting the coke—he scraped the bit up on his key and inhaled— loved it when it hit and rode him.
It just seemed like the best idea in the world when Terry unzipped and waved his dick at him, to go down on him. Why not? Lex thought. After all, it wasn’t like he had anything or anyone to do right now, and he felt –warm, good, happy as shit, why shouldn’t Terry feel good too, the ass-hole. He dropped between Terry’s spread knees and grabbed his little fat dick in his hand and rolled his tongue across the tip, and Terry moaned and shoved his hips up. Lex relaxed and let him fuck his mouth, only moving to smack his hands away when he went for his head. Lex didn’t want those sweaty hands on him, touching him, and he pulled off Terry to let him know that was a Big Wrong—Terry groaned and babbled, “Sorry, sorry, no touching I forgot, I’m sorry!” Lex grinned and went back to his work. He sucked hard at the head, and Terry beat his fists against the couch cushions, sunk his fingers into them when Lex took him down to the base of his dick, and worked his throat muscles around it. God, what an ass-hole—Terry had the coke, he had the control, but he had no idea, too stupid to see it. Typical Terry. Lex thought it was lucky for him he had a nice dick, and Lex was into dick. When he laughed around the head, Terry clenched every muscle in his body and gasped so loud it was almost a scream, he jerked his hips and fucked Lex’s mouth in time to hoarse screams and started coming. Lex was caught off guard, and his throat worked frantically as he swallowed, trying not to choke and Terry lost his mind, it seemed as if he came forever.
Lex sat back and licked his lips, was about to ask Terry for another hit, when the man’s face turned paper white. Fuck, Lex thought, cops? —
A heavy hand dropped on his shoulder, and his stomach sank, worse than cops, worse than death—
Bruce.
He turned to face him with a smirk pasted on his face, wiped a finger through the semen on his lip before he stuck it in his mouth.
Bruce tightened his grip painfully on his shoulder. He had the lost jacket crushed in the other hand. Lex tried to keep smiling through the pain.
“ I should just leave you here,” Bruce rasped. The hand tightened again, and Lex fought to keep from gasping. Bruce glared at Terry. “ Get the fuck out,” Bruce snarled. Terry made a move towards the powder on the table, but drew back at the look on Bruce’s face. He hung immobile in a welter of indecision, but when a growl like a German Shepard came from between Bruce’s clenched teeth, Terry proved he wasn’t too stupid to have a sense of self-preservation, and ran.
Bruce’s grip tightened, and Lex’s eyes dropped shut and he hissed. Tightened again and Lex finally gasped aloud, felt like bone was being crushed. He was going to have a horribly spectacular bruise in the morning, if he lived through the night.
“You fucking little ass-hole junkie- wanna-be—I promised your father I’d take care of you!” Bruce shook him a little with each word, shooting lances of pain through his shoulder.
In Lex’s drug bleary and pain-addled mind, he heard it as ‘take care of’ in the mafia sense. He burst into tears at the thought that Bruce would let his father talk him into killing his childhood friend.
Bruce smacked him, hard enough to knock him down. Fuck, this was it, he was, really truly mad-- mad at him! He sobbed, god he was a dead man--
Bruce loomed above him, and his face was in shadow, only his mouth twisted in a curl of disgust was visible.
“ Stop crying! Get up!” He yanked Lex to his feet and wrapped a hand around his throat, and squeezed lightly, just enough to break through Lex’s haze of drugs and self-pity. Lex’s eyes dried as the reflex to protect himself kicked in.
“Get the fuck off me!” He yelled and tried to kick out at Bruce, but his leg was gripped between Bruce’s’ and he couldn’t move. He was pressed full length against him, so tight he could hardly draw breath.
And then, he noticed that Bruce wasn’t moving, and his eyes were closed. At the same moment that it registered Bruce was breathing heavily into his neck, he also realized he was hard. Without thought he pressed into Bruce and Bruce rocked back with a little moan. “Lex, Lex, why won’t you let me –every one else can, why not me?” He sounded so plaintive and young, not at all like the huge guy who was pressing an iron rod into Lex’s stomach. Lex groaned deep in his throat, and asked himself the same question—why not? Bruce was damn hot, he’s known him forever, they keep skirting on the edge of it, messing up pants and their minds and--
“I don’t know. Stop, stop.” he gasped. He jerked as Bruce reached between them and palmed his erection. “Not here, not here,” Lex moaned. “Home, please?”
Bruce looked dizzy and glazed. “Wha—your penthouse,” he panted.
“No,” Lex sighed. "I want to go back to Smallville."
“But--but,” Bruce began. “It’s a long ride, and” …He sighed and released Lex. He knew it was Lex’s way of backing him off with out hurting his feelings—much.
TBC