I swore I wouldn't do this but...
This is the first installment in my new WIP. I really tried to resist, peeps, I swear. I just couldn't not make this a WIP. To be honest, it's going to take awhile to write all of the scenes I want in this fic, and I need the extra motivation to keep it going. I have nothing planned between now and the start of S3 except random icon-making and picture-manipping and one huge, intimidating bunny that I'm actively procrastinating about, so I think this story will move along fairly quickly, even if all the chapters aren't as long as this one.
White frosted the gray stone building, muffling the echoing voices of birds in the courtyard as Lex crunched through the new snow. It was dark, but the yellow glow filtering out through the windows of the dormitory provided enough light to see by, not that there was anything much to see this time of night. Hands tucked into his pockets, skin tight with the chill in the air, he missed the wool he routinely denied needing.
His breath puffed small misty clouds as he strode past the stone tables that would come alive with his peers and their lame preoccupations when the season changed. He'd never joined in, never been asked. Never bothered to care, either.
His bald pate gave them all something to stare at, and even the ones who made an effort still stole too-long glances at it, like the mysterious story of how it came to be was written in fine print on the pores of his scalp.
He didn't care, though, let them stare. They couldn't possibly look at it as much as he had. Besides, they accepted him superficially, enthusiastically taking advantage of his more questionable connections in the outside world.
At any given time and for the right price, he could have two cartons of cigarettes and a bottle of whatever alcohol he willed at the north wall, just beyond the big oak. The first round was always on the house, a sales tactic that had made him very wealthy and very popular in itself.
Even after last semester's close call with the dean of liberal arts, Lex maintained the business, although at a more discreet level than he had before.
Unfortunately, playing it close to his chest meant no more daytime pickups. Hence, his excursion tonight, trudging through snow and risking another curfew violation on his record.
Fortunately for Lex, the headmaster had found an equally odd man out for his roommate when his father had suddenly insisted that he not be treated any differently than the other boys.
Lionel had apparently demanded that (among lesser tortures), Lex share his quarters and meals with other students. Once again, his father had been inspired by some random word or event and Lex was being taught another obscure lesson that he was sure someday he'd see the point of.
No clues as to what it might be yet, not from father or headmaster or roommate.
He didn't mind very much, as long as he could keep up the modicum of social interaction and meaningless conversation. There was nothing worse than wasting time on a person who was giving him nothing in return. He'd learned *that* lesson on his own, his first semester here.
Bruce didn't threaten to impose though, and it looked like he agreeably ignored Lex's little entrepreneurship, meaning Lex could keep it up a while longer, until he'd saved enough to buy a car and get the hell out of Dodge.
Hell, he might even escape this place friendless, if Bruce Wayne's propensity for brooding silence kept up.
As far as cohabitants were concerned, Bruce was actually almost enjoyable. He had interesting quirks that intrigued Lex, like the fact that he sharpened every one of his pencils every other night, and the way he folded his dirty laundry so well Lex never had a clue as to which stack was clean and which stack was meant for the laundress.
The fastidious behaviors struck Lex as endearing rather than obsessive. The gentle childhood habits instilled in Bruce's daily routine by a well-born mother, perhaps.
Bruce was clean, organized, mannered. His occasional huffing in frustration over some assignment wasn't as annoying as it had been at first. He didn't intrude on Lex's space or touch Lex's things. Once, he'd raised his eyebrows and offered Lex a bottle of water.
Lex had matched his gesture with a flask of brandy and been shocked that Bruce had taken it. He drankly deeply, lips touching gently to the mouth, and head tilted back, neck stretching and moving slowly with long swallows. The flask was a lot lighter when he'd handed it back to Lex, and Lex had smiled and sprawled back on his twin bed, whipped off his tie and watched Bruce sharpen his pencils.
The door of their building closed with a solid thunk behind him and he took the steps two at a time, anxious to be in the safe darkness behind the door of their room.
He soft-stepped across the wood flooring of the hallway, turning the doorknob slowly and leaning against it to muffle the sound of the latch opening. He slipped in and closed it just as carefully as he had opened it, ears wide open and listening for footsteps outside the door.
Turning, he jumped a foot in the air and hissed a curse. "Fuck, Bruce! You scared the shit out of me."
Bruce sat silhouetted against the blue-gray glow of the sky outside their window, the corner of his twin bed dipping low under his weight. His head fell forward and Lex walked wide of him, unzipping his backpack and emptying his latest stash onto their desk. He glanced over his shoulder at Bruce.
Big hands were clasped together between spread legs, knuckles against forehead, like Bruce was praying.
Lex leaned against the desk, wishing the north wall was 50 yards further away than it was so he would have come in after whatever this was had ended.
As it was, the silence made his skin crawl. He shifted his weight, tucked his hands in his pockets, crossed his ankles. Bruce didn't move.
Another minute ticked off on the clock above their desk and Lex licked his lips, shrugged. "Still up, huh?"
Sixty clicks and Lex sighed and moved to crouch on the floor next to Bruce, who jerked away like he hadn't noticed Lex until then. "Listen, Bruce. I know you're not… hell, I don't really know anything I guess. But I'm not tired either."
Lex faltered, stood up and went to his backpack, pulling out the new bottle of tequila and a lime. He tossed the lime at Bruce and a quick hand closed over it with a smack.
"Ever done shots?"
The lime lobbed back to him and he caught it, shrugged and set the bottle down.
"Okay. Well, I only drink alone on birthdays and Christmas, so fuck that."
When Bruce's black eyes left him for a spot on the floor, Lex stepped on a chair and pushed a ceiling tile up out of its frame, sliding bottle and citrus above it. In two years no one had ever thought to look there during routine and a few not-so-routine room checks.
He yawned behind a fist and turned his back to Bruce's unseeing eyes, pulling his shirt and pants off, tossing his socks into the corner along with his shoes. His boxers left him chilled and he climbed into bed, huddling under his covers and folding his pillow under his head. Peeking out behind almost-closed lids, he saw Bruce's face. A study in deep shadows and the frozen glow of snow-light from outside.
Reaching back over his head, Lex gripped the headboard with his fingertips and stretched, working the tightness in his chest out in slow, deep breaths. He relaxed under the warmth of his blankets, and tried to ignore the pull of guilt when he rolled over, turning his back on his statuesque, silent roommate.
***
Panting, running hard through the snow, Lex reached up to wipe his brow. Sweat dripped down his temples and he gasped on every sharp breath, lungs constricting and expanding painfully as he gulped in air. His feet were moving, but he was stationary. All he could see was white and the gray sky above spitting snowflakes the size of quarters.
He jerked awake, propped on his elbows and ears prickling with the sound of Bruce's quiet desperation. Whispered half-words, hints of pleasure lacing through the pained moans and keening, needy noises.
Lex lowered himself slowly down again, turning his head as soundlessly as he could to look. Blinking, he saw Bruce's profile highlighted in pale gray, face shining with sweat, mouth open and lips pulled back, sucking in air through teeth that glinted white in the dim light.
Under the covers, Bruce's hand moved rhythmically, hips pumping up, the blanket tenting and sinking again and again, fast, in time with every stroke. Lex licked his lips and held his breath, his hand sliding from his side and tucking under his own covers.
He was hard, aching and slick with instant, surprised arousal. Across the room, the soft sound of fabric on flesh quickened and Lex's hand closed on his own length, elastic of his boxers digging into his wrist. The bed creaked beneath the shallow thrusting of his hips and Bruce's breath caught.
Eyes narrowing, locked on his, Bruce stared over at him. For a split second, Lex thought he'd sink into the mattress, but Bruce took a deep breath and turned his head back to the ceiling, licking his lips. He glanced hesitantly at Lex, then looked away again.
Lex hooked his foot in his bedding and kicked hard, the rush of cool air on his flushed skin so good. He looked over at Bruce again and saw him watching, one hand fisting the edge of his blanket, lifting it slowly. Lex steeled himself and pushed the last of his inhibitions aside, peeling out of his boxers and tossing them to the floor.
Bruce's blankets slid from the foot of his bed.
"Fuck, yes…" whispered hard, slicing through the air and when Lex dared another glance, Bruce's eyes were squeezed closed, hand slowly jacking his thick length again.
Bruce changed completely, mouth moving more than Lex had ever seen it move. He was larger than life, breathtaking with a subtle nobility Lex had never noticed before, tan skin almost glowing at the crest of every muscle, the head of his cock peeking out of the top of his big fist on every downstroke.
Breath eluded him and Lex didn't care, didn't mind the rush a lack of oxygen could bring. Not one bit. Not while he was naked, thrusting into his moist palm and watching Bruce fuck his own fist like he was alone, like Lex wasn't trying desperately to match his strokes, to imagine the taste of the line of hair trailing down to the center of Bruce's attention.
Lex pumped his cock in smooth motions, keeping his rhythm ragged and varying the pressure because he was nervous, fuck, jacking off in full view of another guy and *nervous* about coming.
Licked out and tasted the salt on his upper lip and he wanted *more*, wanted to touch Bruce and know what he felt like, what he smelled like. God, wanted to feel *those* hands on his body instead of his own.
A low groan drew Lex's attention and he stared over at Bruce. Across the room, miles away, slim hips rocked hard, ass clenching at the top of every thrust, lifting completely off the bed now with a determination that made Lex tighten inside, muscles flexing and coiling in anticipation.
Body arching up in the air, hand sliding impossibly fast, Bruce grabbed for a pillow and pushed it over his face, his pained cry of release loud and violent even under four inches of thick down and cotton.
Lex's body reacted, cock flexing in his stunned, motionless fist, pleading with him and he didn't hesitate, mind racing at the thought of Bruce watching him like that, those dark eyes open, seeing him fucking himself, bringing himself off like he always did.
And fuck, *yes*, his right middle finger was in his mouth before he realized it, tongue knowing the routine and automatically swirling around it, slicking it and pushing it out, hand moving down and underneath to tease his hole. The nail scraped his fragile skin and he sucked in air, shut his eyes as Bruce shifted on his bed and made a quiet, surprised sound.
He could do this, could get off on Bruce knowing that he was this dirty. Knowing that he liked… this. Finger slipping inside, he groaned and tilted his head back, pushing it into his pillow, scalp brushing the headboard as he moved and moved, hips rolling and finger twisting, hand twisting, cock full and aching.
He rolled onto his side and opened his eyes, biting down on a shocked cry at the sight of Bruce's smooth chest right *there*. So close, every inch of Bruce within reach beside his bed, kneeling down, leaning in, and Lex didn't know whether to laugh or cry or scream when Bruce's hand covered his own, stroking his cock with him.
Light flashed behind his eyes and he closed them, opened them again fast and saw Bruce's face, calm and beautiful, moving closer to his own. The hand on his tightened and Bruce's slick fingers slipped between his, thick and strong. Lips brushed his collar bone and Lex shuddered, body too alive with every sensation. He needed the pain to ground himself, sank his finger in as far as he could reach and shifted onto his back, closer to Bruce. Holding Bruce's gaze, he ground his ass down into the mattress, pressing deep inside himself, finger hooking sharply.
Bruce closed in, licking his lips, glancing down at Lex's cock and God, *fuck*, his eyes heavy and slow like he was memorizing Lex's body.
Eyes rolling up in his head, Lex stretched up and licked Bruce's mouth open, pulled his fingers from between Bruce's and wrapped them on the back of Bruce's neck, holding him there. Lex thrust into the fist that glided up and down his shaft, hips lifting off the bed as Bruce kicked the pace up a notch, sending him spiraling over the edge.
Red light pressed in behind his closed eyes, mind blank as the snow outside but hot, overheated with Bruce's hands on him, Bruce's tongue licking deep into his mouth. Hips stabbing up in uncontrollable thrusts, he came in the tight sheath of Bruce's hand, spurting hot streams that pulsed in waves clear to his chest, sending his heart into a desperate rhythm and ruining his already ragged breathing.
He jerked his head away from Bruce's kiss, gulping air and shifting to tuck in closer against golden skin, trembling as Bruce stroked lightly, emptying him completely.
One side of his face mashed hard into the pillow and he winced as Bruce moved away, standing and going to his dresser. He brought back a handkerchief, wiping Lex carefully as he lay panting and stunned, incapable of any thought beyond *more*.
Strong fingers pushed his thighs apart and Lex raised his head, anxious and a little terrified, heart pounding so loud he was sure Bruce could hear it.
The soft cotton wiped across his stomach then down between his legs, brushing over his hole and on either side of his sac, then disappeared. The intimacy sent chills up his spine, made him suppress the instinctive urge to grab onto Bruce and pull him down into another kiss.
Lex watched with amusement as Bruce opened the square of cloth, carefully fold it, tucking it under a couple of school-issue shirts in what must have been the laundry stack.
Bruce looked back at him for a long moment, body shrinking as if under the weight of thoughts Lex wasn't willing to think yet.
Bruce bent and picked up his own covers and climbed into bed.
Lex couldn't explain the regret that ruined his endorphin rush. He shouldn't have expected anything else - the two of them couldn't sleep in one bed. Obviously.
Still, Bruce rolled away from him, silent and shut-off again. Like the two of them were completely alone.
Lex felt like cussing, jumping up and demanding something, some connection beyond this but knew if he did, he'd never have even this again. And he had no idea what Bruce might demand of him, either.
He turned on his side and watched the snow fall until false dawn pushed him helplessly into another heated, bleak dream.
~
Chapter: One
Pairing: Bruce/Lex
Scene Summary: Let's throw them together and see what happens.
Rating: NC-17
A.N.: Thanks to hyperfocused and shaggirl for previewing and brainstorming with me, special thanks to jfc013 for the quick and briliant beta!! ::smooches::
White frosted the gray stone building, muffling the echoing voices of birds in the courtyard as Lex crunched through the new snow. It was dark, but the yellow glow filtering out through the windows of the dormitory provided enough light to see by, not that there was anything much to see this time of night. Hands tucked into his pockets, skin tight with the chill in the air, he missed the wool he routinely denied needing.
His breath puffed small misty clouds as he strode past the stone tables that would come alive with his peers and their lame preoccupations when the season changed. He'd never joined in, never been asked. Never bothered to care, either.
His bald pate gave them all something to stare at, and even the ones who made an effort still stole too-long glances at it, like the mysterious story of how it came to be was written in fine print on the pores of his scalp.
He didn't care, though, let them stare. They couldn't possibly look at it as much as he had. Besides, they accepted him superficially, enthusiastically taking advantage of his more questionable connections in the outside world.
At any given time and for the right price, he could have two cartons of cigarettes and a bottle of whatever alcohol he willed at the north wall, just beyond the big oak. The first round was always on the house, a sales tactic that had made him very wealthy and very popular in itself.
Even after last semester's close call with the dean of liberal arts, Lex maintained the business, although at a more discreet level than he had before.
Unfortunately, playing it close to his chest meant no more daytime pickups. Hence, his excursion tonight, trudging through snow and risking another curfew violation on his record.
Fortunately for Lex, the headmaster had found an equally odd man out for his roommate when his father had suddenly insisted that he not be treated any differently than the other boys.
Lionel had apparently demanded that (among lesser tortures), Lex share his quarters and meals with other students. Once again, his father had been inspired by some random word or event and Lex was being taught another obscure lesson that he was sure someday he'd see the point of.
No clues as to what it might be yet, not from father or headmaster or roommate.
He didn't mind very much, as long as he could keep up the modicum of social interaction and meaningless conversation. There was nothing worse than wasting time on a person who was giving him nothing in return. He'd learned *that* lesson on his own, his first semester here.
Bruce didn't threaten to impose though, and it looked like he agreeably ignored Lex's little entrepreneurship, meaning Lex could keep it up a while longer, until he'd saved enough to buy a car and get the hell out of Dodge.
Hell, he might even escape this place friendless, if Bruce Wayne's propensity for brooding silence kept up.
As far as cohabitants were concerned, Bruce was actually almost enjoyable. He had interesting quirks that intrigued Lex, like the fact that he sharpened every one of his pencils every other night, and the way he folded his dirty laundry so well Lex never had a clue as to which stack was clean and which stack was meant for the laundress.
The fastidious behaviors struck Lex as endearing rather than obsessive. The gentle childhood habits instilled in Bruce's daily routine by a well-born mother, perhaps.
Bruce was clean, organized, mannered. His occasional huffing in frustration over some assignment wasn't as annoying as it had been at first. He didn't intrude on Lex's space or touch Lex's things. Once, he'd raised his eyebrows and offered Lex a bottle of water.
Lex had matched his gesture with a flask of brandy and been shocked that Bruce had taken it. He drankly deeply, lips touching gently to the mouth, and head tilted back, neck stretching and moving slowly with long swallows. The flask was a lot lighter when he'd handed it back to Lex, and Lex had smiled and sprawled back on his twin bed, whipped off his tie and watched Bruce sharpen his pencils.
The door of their building closed with a solid thunk behind him and he took the steps two at a time, anxious to be in the safe darkness behind the door of their room.
He soft-stepped across the wood flooring of the hallway, turning the doorknob slowly and leaning against it to muffle the sound of the latch opening. He slipped in and closed it just as carefully as he had opened it, ears wide open and listening for footsteps outside the door.
Turning, he jumped a foot in the air and hissed a curse. "Fuck, Bruce! You scared the shit out of me."
Bruce sat silhouetted against the blue-gray glow of the sky outside their window, the corner of his twin bed dipping low under his weight. His head fell forward and Lex walked wide of him, unzipping his backpack and emptying his latest stash onto their desk. He glanced over his shoulder at Bruce.
Big hands were clasped together between spread legs, knuckles against forehead, like Bruce was praying.
Lex leaned against the desk, wishing the north wall was 50 yards further away than it was so he would have come in after whatever this was had ended.
As it was, the silence made his skin crawl. He shifted his weight, tucked his hands in his pockets, crossed his ankles. Bruce didn't move.
Another minute ticked off on the clock above their desk and Lex licked his lips, shrugged. "Still up, huh?"
Sixty clicks and Lex sighed and moved to crouch on the floor next to Bruce, who jerked away like he hadn't noticed Lex until then. "Listen, Bruce. I know you're not… hell, I don't really know anything I guess. But I'm not tired either."
Lex faltered, stood up and went to his backpack, pulling out the new bottle of tequila and a lime. He tossed the lime at Bruce and a quick hand closed over it with a smack.
"Ever done shots?"
The lime lobbed back to him and he caught it, shrugged and set the bottle down.
"Okay. Well, I only drink alone on birthdays and Christmas, so fuck that."
When Bruce's black eyes left him for a spot on the floor, Lex stepped on a chair and pushed a ceiling tile up out of its frame, sliding bottle and citrus above it. In two years no one had ever thought to look there during routine and a few not-so-routine room checks.
He yawned behind a fist and turned his back to Bruce's unseeing eyes, pulling his shirt and pants off, tossing his socks into the corner along with his shoes. His boxers left him chilled and he climbed into bed, huddling under his covers and folding his pillow under his head. Peeking out behind almost-closed lids, he saw Bruce's face. A study in deep shadows and the frozen glow of snow-light from outside.
Reaching back over his head, Lex gripped the headboard with his fingertips and stretched, working the tightness in his chest out in slow, deep breaths. He relaxed under the warmth of his blankets, and tried to ignore the pull of guilt when he rolled over, turning his back on his statuesque, silent roommate.
***
Panting, running hard through the snow, Lex reached up to wipe his brow. Sweat dripped down his temples and he gasped on every sharp breath, lungs constricting and expanding painfully as he gulped in air. His feet were moving, but he was stationary. All he could see was white and the gray sky above spitting snowflakes the size of quarters.
He jerked awake, propped on his elbows and ears prickling with the sound of Bruce's quiet desperation. Whispered half-words, hints of pleasure lacing through the pained moans and keening, needy noises.
Lex lowered himself slowly down again, turning his head as soundlessly as he could to look. Blinking, he saw Bruce's profile highlighted in pale gray, face shining with sweat, mouth open and lips pulled back, sucking in air through teeth that glinted white in the dim light.
Under the covers, Bruce's hand moved rhythmically, hips pumping up, the blanket tenting and sinking again and again, fast, in time with every stroke. Lex licked his lips and held his breath, his hand sliding from his side and tucking under his own covers.
He was hard, aching and slick with instant, surprised arousal. Across the room, the soft sound of fabric on flesh quickened and Lex's hand closed on his own length, elastic of his boxers digging into his wrist. The bed creaked beneath the shallow thrusting of his hips and Bruce's breath caught.
Eyes narrowing, locked on his, Bruce stared over at him. For a split second, Lex thought he'd sink into the mattress, but Bruce took a deep breath and turned his head back to the ceiling, licking his lips. He glanced hesitantly at Lex, then looked away again.
Lex hooked his foot in his bedding and kicked hard, the rush of cool air on his flushed skin so good. He looked over at Bruce again and saw him watching, one hand fisting the edge of his blanket, lifting it slowly. Lex steeled himself and pushed the last of his inhibitions aside, peeling out of his boxers and tossing them to the floor.
Bruce's blankets slid from the foot of his bed.
"Fuck, yes…" whispered hard, slicing through the air and when Lex dared another glance, Bruce's eyes were squeezed closed, hand slowly jacking his thick length again.
Bruce changed completely, mouth moving more than Lex had ever seen it move. He was larger than life, breathtaking with a subtle nobility Lex had never noticed before, tan skin almost glowing at the crest of every muscle, the head of his cock peeking out of the top of his big fist on every downstroke.
Breath eluded him and Lex didn't care, didn't mind the rush a lack of oxygen could bring. Not one bit. Not while he was naked, thrusting into his moist palm and watching Bruce fuck his own fist like he was alone, like Lex wasn't trying desperately to match his strokes, to imagine the taste of the line of hair trailing down to the center of Bruce's attention.
Lex pumped his cock in smooth motions, keeping his rhythm ragged and varying the pressure because he was nervous, fuck, jacking off in full view of another guy and *nervous* about coming.
Licked out and tasted the salt on his upper lip and he wanted *more*, wanted to touch Bruce and know what he felt like, what he smelled like. God, wanted to feel *those* hands on his body instead of his own.
A low groan drew Lex's attention and he stared over at Bruce. Across the room, miles away, slim hips rocked hard, ass clenching at the top of every thrust, lifting completely off the bed now with a determination that made Lex tighten inside, muscles flexing and coiling in anticipation.
Body arching up in the air, hand sliding impossibly fast, Bruce grabbed for a pillow and pushed it over his face, his pained cry of release loud and violent even under four inches of thick down and cotton.
Lex's body reacted, cock flexing in his stunned, motionless fist, pleading with him and he didn't hesitate, mind racing at the thought of Bruce watching him like that, those dark eyes open, seeing him fucking himself, bringing himself off like he always did.
And fuck, *yes*, his right middle finger was in his mouth before he realized it, tongue knowing the routine and automatically swirling around it, slicking it and pushing it out, hand moving down and underneath to tease his hole. The nail scraped his fragile skin and he sucked in air, shut his eyes as Bruce shifted on his bed and made a quiet, surprised sound.
He could do this, could get off on Bruce knowing that he was this dirty. Knowing that he liked… this. Finger slipping inside, he groaned and tilted his head back, pushing it into his pillow, scalp brushing the headboard as he moved and moved, hips rolling and finger twisting, hand twisting, cock full and aching.
He rolled onto his side and opened his eyes, biting down on a shocked cry at the sight of Bruce's smooth chest right *there*. So close, every inch of Bruce within reach beside his bed, kneeling down, leaning in, and Lex didn't know whether to laugh or cry or scream when Bruce's hand covered his own, stroking his cock with him.
Light flashed behind his eyes and he closed them, opened them again fast and saw Bruce's face, calm and beautiful, moving closer to his own. The hand on his tightened and Bruce's slick fingers slipped between his, thick and strong. Lips brushed his collar bone and Lex shuddered, body too alive with every sensation. He needed the pain to ground himself, sank his finger in as far as he could reach and shifted onto his back, closer to Bruce. Holding Bruce's gaze, he ground his ass down into the mattress, pressing deep inside himself, finger hooking sharply.
Bruce closed in, licking his lips, glancing down at Lex's cock and God, *fuck*, his eyes heavy and slow like he was memorizing Lex's body.
Eyes rolling up in his head, Lex stretched up and licked Bruce's mouth open, pulled his fingers from between Bruce's and wrapped them on the back of Bruce's neck, holding him there. Lex thrust into the fist that glided up and down his shaft, hips lifting off the bed as Bruce kicked the pace up a notch, sending him spiraling over the edge.
Red light pressed in behind his closed eyes, mind blank as the snow outside but hot, overheated with Bruce's hands on him, Bruce's tongue licking deep into his mouth. Hips stabbing up in uncontrollable thrusts, he came in the tight sheath of Bruce's hand, spurting hot streams that pulsed in waves clear to his chest, sending his heart into a desperate rhythm and ruining his already ragged breathing.
He jerked his head away from Bruce's kiss, gulping air and shifting to tuck in closer against golden skin, trembling as Bruce stroked lightly, emptying him completely.
One side of his face mashed hard into the pillow and he winced as Bruce moved away, standing and going to his dresser. He brought back a handkerchief, wiping Lex carefully as he lay panting and stunned, incapable of any thought beyond *more*.
Strong fingers pushed his thighs apart and Lex raised his head, anxious and a little terrified, heart pounding so loud he was sure Bruce could hear it.
The soft cotton wiped across his stomach then down between his legs, brushing over his hole and on either side of his sac, then disappeared. The intimacy sent chills up his spine, made him suppress the instinctive urge to grab onto Bruce and pull him down into another kiss.
Lex watched with amusement as Bruce opened the square of cloth, carefully fold it, tucking it under a couple of school-issue shirts in what must have been the laundry stack.
Bruce looked back at him for a long moment, body shrinking as if under the weight of thoughts Lex wasn't willing to think yet.
Bruce bent and picked up his own covers and climbed into bed.
Lex couldn't explain the regret that ruined his endorphin rush. He shouldn't have expected anything else - the two of them couldn't sleep in one bed. Obviously.
Still, Bruce rolled away from him, silent and shut-off again. Like the two of them were completely alone.
Lex felt like cussing, jumping up and demanding something, some connection beyond this but knew if he did, he'd never have even this again. And he had no idea what Bruce might demand of him, either.
He turned on his side and watched the snow fall until false dawn pushed him helplessly into another heated, bleak dream.
~
Chapter: One
Pairing: Bruce/Lex
Scene Summary: Let's throw them together and see what happens.
Rating: NC-17
A.N.: Thanks to hyperfocused and shaggirl for previewing and brainstorming with me, special thanks to jfc013 for the quick and briliant beta!! ::smooches::