non timebo mala - Smallville/Supernatural, Lex/Dean, PG-13
Title: non timbebo mala
Fandom(s), Pairing: Smallville/Supernatural, Lex Luthor/Dean Winchester
Rating: PG13
Spoilers: none really for SV; up to AU of Jus In Belo for SPN
Summary: for the 'Orders' challenge at slashthedrabble. 'Kill the one who has it and you're free,' she said. So Lex made a plan.
People didn’t give Lex Luthor orders.
Lex issued orders and people carried them out. Lex crooked a finger and corporate lackeys did his bidding. People treated Lex as though he were above their own commands and concerns because, on many levels, he was.
But then again. Lillith wasn’t “people”.
“Bring me the gun,” she said. “Kill the one who has it and you’re free.” So Lex made a plan.
Finding Dean Winchester wasn’t easy. Lex hired the best private investigators; conferred with “specialists” in the necessary fields. He threw money and time on the problem like he actually had the latter. But ingratiating himself to Dean upon finding him…
That was the difficult part.
Money didn’t work. Hiring the Winchesters to de-haunt a LuthorCorp subsidiary backfired when the ghost Lex had bought up and crossed over on its own.
Deceit didn’t work any better. Hiring Bella to steal the colt and lead Dean back to him only earned Lex a black eye and busted lip.
Truth was more effective. Bloodied and desperate, Lex let slip the reason a demon-killing gun meant more to him than an “expensive knick-knack to store in that live-in museum”. And somehow, between the punching and the yelling, Dean stopped aiming with his fists and started returning Lex’s attention to Dean’s lips.
Or, more accurately, Dean started turning his attention to the feel of his lips on Lex’s. The sounds they could make when they weren’t grunting from the impact of traded blows. The sounds they could make while engaged in other sorts of bodily contact. On the rug in front of Lex’s fireplace, where he had sat and watched the firelight shine off the colt’s silver-plated barrel for hours, they tugged and tore at each other and clung to one another, frenzied.
The problem with honesty, however… was that it couldn’t be stoppered easily once the flow of truths had begun. Dean woke from a post-orgasmic slumber to the sight of Lex sitting on the edge of the sofa, suit pants back on but unfastened… the colt pointed at the dark tattoo on Dean’s chest.
Dean stilled, betrayal and realization seeping slowly into his gaze, dulled by drug-laced scotch.
“You know… I bet she doesn’t even consider the possibility that I might turn this on her once I’ve taken it from you,” Lex said.
“You’re working for Lillith,” Dean ground out - eyes daggers, jaw a vice.
“She and my father would’ve hit it off,” Lex continued.
Then he uncocked the hammer on the colt… and held it out to Dean. He lifted a weathered scroll from his lap and offered it as well.
“What’s this?” Dean asked, accepting neither.
“An acquisition worth the price of two, small third-world countries,” Lex replied. “And perhaps a way to kill a super-powerful demon without getting near it.”
Dean stared in almost comical surprise. “What?”
Lex grinned. “I never responded well to bribes from dear ol’ Dad either,” he said.
And people didn’t give him orders for a reason.
[ end. ]
Fandom(s), Pairing: Smallville/Supernatural, Lex Luthor/Dean Winchester
Rating: PG13
Spoilers: none really for SV; up to AU of Jus In Belo for SPN
Summary: for the 'Orders' challenge at slashthedrabble. 'Kill the one who has it and you're free,' she said. So Lex made a plan.
People didn’t give Lex Luthor orders.
Lex issued orders and people carried them out. Lex crooked a finger and corporate lackeys did his bidding. People treated Lex as though he were above their own commands and concerns because, on many levels, he was.
But then again. Lillith wasn’t “people”.
“Bring me the gun,” she said. “Kill the one who has it and you’re free.” So Lex made a plan.
Finding Dean Winchester wasn’t easy. Lex hired the best private investigators; conferred with “specialists” in the necessary fields. He threw money and time on the problem like he actually had the latter. But ingratiating himself to Dean upon finding him…
That was the difficult part.
Money didn’t work. Hiring the Winchesters to de-haunt a LuthorCorp subsidiary backfired when the ghost Lex had bought up and crossed over on its own.
Deceit didn’t work any better. Hiring Bella to steal the colt and lead Dean back to him only earned Lex a black eye and busted lip.
Truth was more effective. Bloodied and desperate, Lex let slip the reason a demon-killing gun meant more to him than an “expensive knick-knack to store in that live-in museum”. And somehow, between the punching and the yelling, Dean stopped aiming with his fists and started returning Lex’s attention to Dean’s lips.
Or, more accurately, Dean started turning his attention to the feel of his lips on Lex’s. The sounds they could make when they weren’t grunting from the impact of traded blows. The sounds they could make while engaged in other sorts of bodily contact. On the rug in front of Lex’s fireplace, where he had sat and watched the firelight shine off the colt’s silver-plated barrel for hours, they tugged and tore at each other and clung to one another, frenzied.
The problem with honesty, however… was that it couldn’t be stoppered easily once the flow of truths had begun. Dean woke from a post-orgasmic slumber to the sight of Lex sitting on the edge of the sofa, suit pants back on but unfastened… the colt pointed at the dark tattoo on Dean’s chest.
Dean stilled, betrayal and realization seeping slowly into his gaze, dulled by drug-laced scotch.
“You know… I bet she doesn’t even consider the possibility that I might turn this on her once I’ve taken it from you,” Lex said.
“You’re working for Lillith,” Dean ground out - eyes daggers, jaw a vice.
“She and my father would’ve hit it off,” Lex continued.
Then he uncocked the hammer on the colt… and held it out to Dean. He lifted a weathered scroll from his lap and offered it as well.
“What’s this?” Dean asked, accepting neither.
“An acquisition worth the price of two, small third-world countries,” Lex replied. “And perhaps a way to kill a super-powerful demon without getting near it.”
Dean stared in almost comical surprise. “What?”
Lex grinned. “I never responded well to bribes from dear ol’ Dad either,” he said.
And people didn’t give him orders for a reason.
[ end. ]