Exiled: More ,More More!
9/7/04 04:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyHoof! Busy day, having fun!I'm working my way through the pile on my desk, and let me tell you *whispers* I know why the dinosaurs died. *shreds their letters begging for help*
More story, and a tasty tea biscuit, anyone? They're nice and fre-esh...
And of course, previous parts shrink-wrapped for your protection:Exiled
Clark watched
Bruce cut through the water, long muscled arms splitting the water, long legs flashing up and down. He came to the wall and rose up, water pouring in sheets off him, his hair black and shining with it. He tossed his head back to fling his hair off his forehead, and Clark felt just like he had that time Lana leaned over his desk, and her shirt had slid low enough to see her breasts, and he’d realized he was just a tongues touch away. He hadn’t been able to stand up for a while. But. Bruce. Bruce was making him feel like that—the feeling scared him, he wanted to leave but no way was he taking the towel off his lap.
Bruce motioned for Clark to come in, and Clark didn’t even think to disobey him. He ran and leaped into the pool and prayed it wasn’t heated. When the cold water hit him with a bone deep shock he was pathetically grateful. Die, you treacherous bastard, he told his dick.
Bruce had a way of looking at a person that went right through them, Clark thought as Bruce turned to watch him swim. He wondered briefly if he had x-ray vision too, and laughed a little, through chattering teeth.
Bruce looked apologetic. “I’m sorry, I don’t like the feel of heated pool water,” he said. “I’ll turn the heat on if you like.” Bruce swam closer to him. “You’re covered with goose-bumps.” he said, and skimmed his hand along Clark’s arm, a quick and not particularly sensual move, but Clark’s eyes dropped shut and he shuddered.
Bruce almost ripped his hand away, instantly guilty and horrified. He’d only wanted to tease Lex, extract a little payback, but this was a spectacularly bad, bad idea. Lex had looked devastated when Clark had run after him, and he’d thought that maybe the kid was a little attracted to him, but when he’d touched his arm, god, he looked like he was going to come.
Lex. Lex. God, I’m sorry he thought—and then Clark’s hand reached out and touched his, fingertips trembled against his skin, and the boy looked terrified, but determined. Bruce pulled away and swam back to the shallow end.
“Race, Clark? I need to unkink my muscles. Want to help?”
Clark blushed so deep a red, it was alarming, and stammered his agreement. Bruce hoped the activity would distract Clark—and himself too. That simple touch had affected him more deeply than he wanted to admit.
They lined up at the edge and pushed off. Clark reminded himself over and over not to beat Bruce, to hold himself back, and Bruce slid past him gracefully in the water. He was –the only word that came to Clark’s mind was beautiful—and it felt so strange thinking of another guy that way that it made him flounder a bit and that was fine; it was more convincing when he lost the race to Bruce. He swam towards him to congratulate him and Bruce turned to him with his eyes closed as he skimmed water from his face. They collided, and Bruce reached out and grabbed Clark by his shoulders to steady them both.
From inside, Lex watched the two, saw Bruce grab Clark and pull him in close. It hurt –it hurt a lot. He was paying for being a jerk, for yanking him this way and that because Lex thought it was funny. This–this was Bruce punishing him worse than ever before.
He stormed off to his room. He knew what was going to happen—he didn’t have to watch it too. Motherfuck! He kicked his door and felt a little flare of satisfaction when it slammed shut hard enough to knock a picture off the wall. Poetic justice would have made it one of Bruce and him—but it was a picture of his mother’s childhood home. He stood over the framed photograph lying on the floor, and stared down at it, till a fat drop hit the glass and splattered. Lex sucked in air shakily, and decided that was enough pathos for the day. He locked his door, lay down on the bed and waited for sleep.
Bruce meanwhile had shoved Clark gently towards the pool edge.
“Go get dressed Clark, I’ll take you home if you’re ready.”
Clark figured he was ready; he’d had enough confusion for one day.
tbc...poor babies!
More story, and a tasty tea biscuit, anyone? They're nice and fre-esh...
And of course, previous parts shrink-wrapped for your protection:Exiled
Clark watched
Bruce cut through the water, long muscled arms splitting the water, long legs flashing up and down. He came to the wall and rose up, water pouring in sheets off him, his hair black and shining with it. He tossed his head back to fling his hair off his forehead, and Clark felt just like he had that time Lana leaned over his desk, and her shirt had slid low enough to see her breasts, and he’d realized he was just a tongues touch away. He hadn’t been able to stand up for a while. But. Bruce. Bruce was making him feel like that—the feeling scared him, he wanted to leave but no way was he taking the towel off his lap.
Bruce motioned for Clark to come in, and Clark didn’t even think to disobey him. He ran and leaped into the pool and prayed it wasn’t heated. When the cold water hit him with a bone deep shock he was pathetically grateful. Die, you treacherous bastard, he told his dick.
Bruce had a way of looking at a person that went right through them, Clark thought as Bruce turned to watch him swim. He wondered briefly if he had x-ray vision too, and laughed a little, through chattering teeth.
Bruce looked apologetic. “I’m sorry, I don’t like the feel of heated pool water,” he said. “I’ll turn the heat on if you like.” Bruce swam closer to him. “You’re covered with goose-bumps.” he said, and skimmed his hand along Clark’s arm, a quick and not particularly sensual move, but Clark’s eyes dropped shut and he shuddered.
Bruce almost ripped his hand away, instantly guilty and horrified. He’d only wanted to tease Lex, extract a little payback, but this was a spectacularly bad, bad idea. Lex had looked devastated when Clark had run after him, and he’d thought that maybe the kid was a little attracted to him, but when he’d touched his arm, god, he looked like he was going to come.
Lex. Lex. God, I’m sorry he thought—and then Clark’s hand reached out and touched his, fingertips trembled against his skin, and the boy looked terrified, but determined. Bruce pulled away and swam back to the shallow end.
“Race, Clark? I need to unkink my muscles. Want to help?”
Clark blushed so deep a red, it was alarming, and stammered his agreement. Bruce hoped the activity would distract Clark—and himself too. That simple touch had affected him more deeply than he wanted to admit.
They lined up at the edge and pushed off. Clark reminded himself over and over not to beat Bruce, to hold himself back, and Bruce slid past him gracefully in the water. He was –the only word that came to Clark’s mind was beautiful—and it felt so strange thinking of another guy that way that it made him flounder a bit and that was fine; it was more convincing when he lost the race to Bruce. He swam towards him to congratulate him and Bruce turned to him with his eyes closed as he skimmed water from his face. They collided, and Bruce reached out and grabbed Clark by his shoulders to steady them both.
From inside, Lex watched the two, saw Bruce grab Clark and pull him in close. It hurt –it hurt a lot. He was paying for being a jerk, for yanking him this way and that because Lex thought it was funny. This–this was Bruce punishing him worse than ever before.
He stormed off to his room. He knew what was going to happen—he didn’t have to watch it too. Motherfuck! He kicked his door and felt a little flare of satisfaction when it slammed shut hard enough to knock a picture off the wall. Poetic justice would have made it one of Bruce and him—but it was a picture of his mother’s childhood home. He stood over the framed photograph lying on the floor, and stared down at it, till a fat drop hit the glass and splattered. Lex sucked in air shakily, and decided that was enough pathos for the day. He locked his door, lay down on the bed and waited for sleep.
Bruce meanwhile had shoved Clark gently towards the pool edge.
“Go get dressed Clark, I’ll take you home if you’re ready.”
Clark figured he was ready; he’d had enough confusion for one day.
tbc...poor babies!
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![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
9/7/04 08:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
9/7/04 09:05 pm (UTC)(no subject)
9/7/04 09:12 pm (UTC)I'm waiting for Lex to get it on with everyone like the slut that he is.
More! More!
(no subject)
9/8/04 12:07 am (UTC)(no subject)
9/8/04 03:22 am (UTC)Yes, I do believe I'll be here. I'm writing. Kind of.
(no subject)
9/8/04 05:18 am (UTC)(no subject)
9/8/04 05:03 pm (UTC)(no subject)
9/7/04 11:07 pm (UTC)Lex does the 'want you don't want you' dance with Bruce, Bruce does it with Clark - these bois are all gonna blow!
Sheesh.
:)
*bounce*
YOu are eevol, Ms. Thang, but i lurve ya.
(no subject)
9/8/04 12:08 am (UTC)They are so gonna explode, and it's going to be fuuuun!
(no subject)
9/8/04 06:43 pm (UTC)I need a StarGirl Icon, i really do!!
Hee.
It's gonna ROCK!
(no subject)
9/8/04 05:29 am (UTC)(no subject)
9/8/04 06:06 am (UTC)(no subject)
9/8/04 06:16 am (UTC)But I lost it.
Just like I did when apparently I stuffed all those goddamn Bruces in that itty bit of fic--shit.
(no subject)
9/8/04 02:00 pm (UTC)I guess that means people all over are getting strange double posts from me. dang. That makes me look crazy...*snorf*
(no subject)
9/8/04 05:51 am (UTC)(no subject)
9/8/04 06:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
9/9/04 05:08 am (UTC)(no subject)
11/24/12 04:12 pm (UTC)(no subject)
11/25/12 05:33 pm (UTC)