For Ash's birthday I wanted to give her a video of MR dancing naked in his phat crib...
But all I got is this lousy update. Late. And this icon:
Anything special you'd like babe?
Title: You Have Your Father's Eyes
Rating: NC 17
Summary: Zod has babies. Who's yo daddy?
Spoilers: SV 1-5, Batman stuphs, Superman II
Krypton
Twenty Years Ago
Medical Wing of the Science Spire
Zod leaned back against the clinical, white mat and watched the holographic projection before them. Since reproductive technologies these days primarily concerned ways of working out glitches in one’s birthing matix, Lara had needed to call in a favor to acquire a machine normally used for looking inside explosive devices. It worked rather well, however, and she, Jor-El, and Zod could see the contents of his abdomen quiet clearly. The projector displayed a three dimensional, illuminated image of a healthy fetus, which was clearly a boy.
“See that? The growth is putting strain on the wall of your birthing pouch. That’s why you are getting these cramps. Mind, I’ve never paid that much attention to them, other than a handful of cases when a patient’s pouch became infected and we… well, we just had to remove it. I’ve been examining goranda pregnancies for the past couple of weeks in correlation with Sar-Jol. Obviously they aren’t exactly like us, but… they do get similar pains, but not in so severe a degree.”
Jor-El looked to Lara to see if she was finished then asked hesitantly as he took Zod’s hand, “So does that mean something is wrong?”
“Not… well. Jor, we’ve gone so far with science that many of our ‘natural’ bodily resources are obsolete. There has been a large rise in non-reproductive sexualities among our people, whether you believe it or not. Men don’t spend time passing on knowledge about childbearing anymore. I’m not saying that this is impossible, but evolutionarily speaking, when an organ has no use for such a long time, it cannot be easy to put it back to its original use. I don’t know what they were like a thousand years ago, but male Kryptonian birthing pouches now are less elastic than those of goranda males. Period.”
“So we should take one of Sar-Jol’s lab gorandas and put the fetus in him?” Zod suggested lightly. Lara bumped his arm. They all knew that at this point, removing the fetus at all for any purpose would be impossible and most likely kill Zod.
”No.” She looked ponderously down at her feet then up at the hologram of their growing child. “We just need to keep an eye on you. I don’t want anything to happen.”
“So there is nothing to be done but wait?” Jor-El asked.
Zod squeezed his hand and regarded the form projected into the air. None of this was news to him. He had consulted the Brainiac computer the day before and discussed his plans in earnest.
“It should serve its purpose. The DNA is strong, and none of the Eradicator nanites have filtered into its blood. Your birthing pouch is protecting it from such an occurance,” the computer had said. There was something pithy in its tone, but the attitude of a criminal AI was hardly something Zod felt he needed to be concerned about.
“How are the experiments going?” Zod rebuttoned his shirt and walked over to a panel, which was running diagnostics on the current tests.
“As planned, and better in some cases.” The computer materialized itself into a masculine form. Why it chose the one that it did, Zod had never bothered to ask. “Your use for this fetus should work perfectly.”
“Krypton will be reborn. But we need more time. More people.”
“You know how much time you have. There is no changing that.”
“I am aware.” He began working at the computer once again. The Kryptonoid version of Brainiac frowned. It knew he was working with his program again, but due to the changes Zod had made, it could no longer move against him on its own.
Zod’s previous work in the military made his connections there strong. With Jor-El basically working for him, there was no one in the Law Council to question his orders. Having Jor-El speed up the space travel program’s reboot was also an immeasurable help, as was his experience off planet during the time his father had sent a robotic conduit of him to a primitive society to observe it. Zod was now in a position where none would think to halt his actions. Hopefully soon, Jor-El would be ready to take in the whole of his plan. He had been remarkably sympathetic to their plight thus far.
Having ignored their conversation until now, Zod lolled his head back onto the mat and watched the world around him. The most recent symptom of his pregnancy, a sort of lightheaded disorientation, was not unpleasant, but rather at times made him feel as though his Jor had decided to take them up in one of those dread flying machines. Standing up might not have been an option.
The device, which Lara had been using to operate the hologram, shot out of her hand, across the room, and smashed itself to pieces against the wall. The hologram flickered and died. Zod sighed. The next time he contacted the Brainiac computer, he would have to order a scan of his brain functions. He’d always had a light telekinesis, something he’d taught to several of his more loyal and gifted compatriots, but recently, he’d been having a bit of trouble controlling it.
“I apologise.”
Lara caressed their joined hands lightly then went to pick up the pieces. “No need. Forgiven.”
“Urm.” Ursa poked her head into the room. “Something explode?”
“No, Lal-Ursa dear. Dru has lost his temper with all of this and took it out on the holoprojector,” Lara said with a smile on her lips. The incredulous look on Ursa’s face just before realizing that she was being teased reminded Zod of a feminine form of Jor-El.
“You white as foam,” she said, walking over to the mat and sitting on the edge. Her features were caught somewhere between concern and irritation. She poked his belly. “Critter okay?”
“Hrr.” Zod grabbed her hand. “How dare you poke Zod.”
“You crazy.” Ursa laughed. She fought her own accent futilely. It made the error in her voice all the more discordant. “Hey, I came here to tell you that somethin is goin' down in the mil. Non’s been up to some crazy shit, taking all those report you been doin' and roundin' up people and now they passed some law says we can’t even make ships no more.”
Zod pushed himself up slowly. “Well, we’ll have to do something about this.”
Jor-El steadied him as he helped him up. “I’ll assist you. I still have some clout in the Law Council. You and Ursa certainly have enough in the military. What is he thinking? Is he trying to ensure that we all die?”
“He probably has no idea what he is doing,” Zod informed them.
Of course he didn’t know what he was doing. He was only doing as he was told.
***
Earth
Present
Metropolis- Forbidden Zones
“Bruce?”
”Bruce.”
”You’re late. You’re never late, Lex.”
He was late, and he looked disheveled in his business suit. There was something off about how he walked into the hotel room. He could have possibly been drunk, but his eyes seemed far too focused.
“I’m… it’s been a long day, Bruce.”
Bruce walked over to his old friend, wondering what was wrong, as something obviously was. He’d not been back in the country for very long, but the moment he’d returned, there were messages waiting from Lex. It could have been that someone was leading Lex on in his alien chase. However, Lex hadn’t made any attempt to contact him after the failed investigation directly following his disappearance. Only within the past few months had he begun calling the mansion again, and Lex’s last message had not sounded good.
“So. I hear your new boyfriend’s hurting you?” Bruce exuded a casual attitude, although he had flown to Metropolis overnight due to worry.
“What?”
“You called.” He softened his voice. “You asked for me, and I came.”
“You did.” Something was definitely wrong. Lex looked at his own hand curiously.
Bruce realized he should have come sooner, but could he have given the circumstances in Gotham City? Lex had changed quite a bit. That much was clear. “What is it?”
He closed the space between them and put his hands on Lex’s shoulders. Lex allowed the touch without question, an action fact in itself. “You said that the man you were sleeping with had attacked you. Yesterday, when you called Gotham. Remember? You said-”
“I remember. I…” Lex looked up into his face. His eyes were unnaturally wide and unnerved, but not afraid. Though Bruce wasn’t sure he knew what was natural to Lex anymore. “Someone is going to kill me. Well, he’s going to try. I knew that I had to come see you first.”
“Lex, I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.” Bruce tightened his grasp protectively. Bruce had never cared for Lex’s taste in men. Or women, for that matter, despite having shared a few of both with him.
“You can’t go near him. He could tear you apart.”
“I’ve picked up some skills in the past few years.”
”No, I mean, literally.”
Bruce started to laugh skeptically, but Lex looked so serious that he stopped.
“You should go home. You should get out of here. I never expected you to come in any case.”
“Then why-“
“I thought we might pool our resources to prevent what is happening. This is a dangerous situation, and it’s only going to get worse. I don’t know that you’ll be safer in Gotham City, but you won’t be safe here.”
“I’m not going to leave you here.”
“You did before.”
Bruce cupped the back of Lex’s head and scanned his face for emotion. He didn’t seem angry, which he’d expected. Lex simply seemed to be taking him in, temporarily disoriented again.
“I love you, Bruce.”
“… what?” He had to resist the urge to demand who this person was who called himself Lex Luthor. Now Bruce was certain alcohol must be involved. Possibly ecstasy.
“Don’t feel pressured to say anything in return. You know that it’s true... and you know that I always have.” He stated it flatly, with no room for argument.
All of the barriers that Lex had erected around himself throughout the years, all of the hang ups he’d had about their relationship, from the need for his father’s approval to being raised in Kansas. Bruce simply couldn’t believe that Lex would say anything like that out loud.
Lex caressed Bruce’s face, taking a second to rub his stubble with amusement. “I have to go.”
“Go get killed?”
Lex brushed off Bruce’s hands and stepped away. He rolled his shoulders. “Perhaps. Perhaps to die. Perhaps to save the day. Who knows where my destiny lies?”
Save the day. Dramatic Lex. “Stay.”
Lex turned back to him. He opened his mouth as though he were going to say something caustic. Then slid his hands into Bruce’s hair and kissed him on the lips.
This. This he had missed more than he could say. More than a warm bed or fine foods. Lex’s soft lips, his rough kisses, the way he played with his hair.
“I can’t,” Lex replied, still very close to his face.
To Bruce’s immense surprise, Lex swept him up into his arms effortlessly and began to carry him into the bedroom with a smirk on his face that was practically devilish.
“But we can have some fun before I go.”
Bruce was drifting in and out of consciousness, reliving bits and pieces of memories. There was panting in the waking world and sounds of pain.
A gunshot, the sound of pearls hitting concrete, and a child crying.
A screaming crowd of frightened, people practically frothing at the mouth with madness.
He sits in a wet, foreign place eating some unidentifiable foodstuff he has stolen. An image of Lex in his best suit sits in a ghostly fashion on a fence above Bruce with quirked eyebrows informing him on the international politics of the spreading food culture and why haggis had never made it big in a fast food chain.
“I believe in the largely untapped capacity for human development, Bruce,” Lex says. He musses Bruce’s filthy hair amiably. “We’re more than what we are or could be... and that is why you have to keep going.”
“I never planned on stopping.”
“Nor could you if you had,” this Lex agrees. “I believe in nothing. I have no gods but those that reside inside me. There is no faith to be had in human morals, but our abilities what we will be come is so far beyond our ken… we must never let anyone take away our ability to be our own myths. To create our own worlds. Never let a man be a world for you, Bruce. Never. Such a man must be destroyed.”
Bruce stands in the middle of a deserted Gotham street. A child in a clown suit and makeup hops in a puddle.
“I’m the queen of suicidal kings,” he says with an impossibly wide smile. “Some day I’ll show you where Lilith hangs her hat.”
He steps away and stumbles into two boys. One dark haired and one with no hair at all. He is now the boy. They are sitting on a bed in the dorm room of an expensive school in their pajamas, talking about nothing at all.
“Where were you?”
“When?”
The bald child’s eyes overrun with blood.
“When they tore my insides out.”
Bruce is in the middle of a Gotham street. There are crowds of panicking people around him.
Most people, Bruce thought to himself sometimes, would have actual dreams, but he rarely had dreams like normal people. Instead he was getting snatches of his parents’ deaths, flashes of old fights and conversations, and half-moments with an intensely sensual lover. He had been thinking about seeing a therapist on a regular basis, but he was afraid of what that person might see in him.
“That can’t be. Lex wouldn’t do that to me,” the small Asian girl had insisted.
Lionel’s features twitched in annoyance. “I rather wish I were lying to you, Miss Lang, but unfortunately I have a feed that records everything that goes on in his office. I had a maid set it up when he installed the saferoom.”
Martha put her hand to her forehead, looking wearied. “Lionel.”
“He destroys the recordings on his end, but I have copies in my office. Believe me, my mental health did not require my seeing my only son violated by an alien robot on his pool table.”
“And you seriously have no idea why Lex won’t let you talk to him?” Martha shook her head at him sympathetically. Lana was looking at her lap in utter revulsion.
“I try to do what is in his best interests, Martha. When I started to get an idea of what the ‘man’ he was sleeping with really was, I was tormented by images of Lex coming to tell me that he was in trouble and my grandchildren would have tentacles.”
Bruce was laughing. He opened his eyes a little. His head felt swollen and blood had dried in his eyes. There was a small woman dragging him by his shoulders.
“Something’s always… ugh! Funny to you, isn’t it?”
“Dreaming. ‘Member… Lionel’s fear ‘a the tentaclebabies.”
Chloe smiled a little at the image of Lex extremely pregnant with three adorable baby tentacle monsters. She would have to stow that one away for the next time he verbally struck her down. Then she remembered that there really would never be a next time.
Opening his eyes fully, his head was resting on in her chest. “C’n walk.”
“No, you can’t. The alien broke your ankle... and possibly your head.” Her voice was strained, but somewhat sarcastic. He had to be too heavy for her. She probably thought breaking his head wouldn’t do much damage.
“Then… I c’n limp. Be faster.”
“Okay.” She let him down and started to reposition him over her shoulder. “It was kind of weird. I mean, we got caught back there, but…”
He looked up at her to find the left side of Chloe’s face was purple and swollen and the eye was red from a broken blood vessel. Her lips were busted in two places and her clothing was ripped and bloody. This woman had been tortured.
“I haven’t seen any patrols or Fine clones since I woke up,” she finished. “Stop staring. You don’t look that pretty either.”
“How’d you get away?”
“It… I think it was just watching my reactions. Then I passed out, and I think it lost interest.”
“Kinky.”
“Uh, yeah. Keep moving, Luthor-lover.”
“What?”
“You were talking in your sleep.”
It had been quite awhile since he’d had his ass kicked so thoroughly by anyone. That combined with the fact a torture victim had been forced to half carry him out of there while hearing him call for Lex made this possibly the most humiliating day in a long long time.
“Someone knocked out Feign,” he explained, leaning on her. “That must have been how she saw us. Feign’s illusions went down. When you gave us the signal, I told the others to grab as many files as they could and go out the other exit we found.”
“It was a good plan. I doubt Nev could have taken it out in any case. They’re immune to almost everything.”
“Well, what aren’t they immune to? We should have a stockpile of that and use it to our best advantage when we get cornered like that.”
Chloe turned her head to him and frowned. He’d never seemed this serious before. He seemed a little high before, actually. “You can find some in Smallville. And Lex might have had a collection of it in the castle, too.”
“Then we should probably send a team over there to get as much as possible. It’s nice that they can’t see into our hideout, but for defensive purposes, we need a little more. They’re going to be looking for us now.”
She nodded. A moment or two passed as they hobbled along. “I’m sorry.”
“About what? Getting caught? That was hardly your failing on this mission. We should have kept a better eye on Feign.”
“No. I mean.” She looked ahead with a grimace. “About Lex. Not that I ever liked him much, but… seems like you were close.”
Bruce said nothing in response. He still wanted to believe his Lex was out there somewhere. He couldn’t accept that he’d seen his dearest friend for the last time five years ago.
Lex playfully tossed Bruce onto the bed, and Bruce remained speechless in surprise. There was no doubt that Lex could take care of himself, as Bruce had helped him learn how to fight, but he’d never been overwhelmingly strong. Lex’s mouth itched with a purposeful smirk and his fingers hooked under the fold between buttons on his dress shirt. With one swift motion, he ripped out of his shirt and jacket, revealing his hairless, defined chest.
“What happened to you?”
“I’ve changed.” Lex snapped the bundle of clothing across the room in a smooth motion. They both jumped as the dresser broke in half. “Hm. This might be more difficult than I’d thought.”
He kicked off his shoes then hopped onto the bed with Bruce. “I can see that… That you’ve changed, I mean.”
Bruce ran his thumb along the muscles of Lex’s arm. He still wasn’t quite as built as Bruce, but he’d definitely put in some effort. Almost without thinking, Bruce pressed his lips to Lex’s shoulder, then along to his collarbone, his Adam’s apple. Lex’s fingers automatically began sensually sliding through Bruce’s dark, messy hair. This was refreshingly familiar.
“You’ve heard of a brush, right?” Gentle kisses along Bruce’s eyebrows.
“I had a late night before I flew in.”
“I’m sure you did,” Lex said knowingly.
Bruce kissed his chin. Lex kissed his nose. Then their lips met each other halfway. Hot. Wet. Needful. Hungry and lonely. No faltering or wondering where they were except with each other, in each other. Lex had always had an aggressive tongue. They kissed, sucked, moved with each other, until they were both breathing erratically, leaning on one another.
Bruce eased Lex’s smaller frame onto the bed, noting how pliant he seemed right now, not resisting or pushing him down aggressively as he might. Lex watched him analytically, breathing in and out slowly as perspiration trickled down Bruce’s face.
“Don’t you sweat anymore?”
“It’s truly a pity.”
Bruce stripped his own shirt off and leaned over Lex, who wrapped his arms around Bruce possessively. Bruce’s hands ran up and down Lex’s sides, feeling his gentle warmth. His soft breathing. Fierce grey eyes watched his admiration. Bruce placed a kiss on the soft skin of his head. “Do you really want this? Like this?”
“I could hurt you. Look at the dresser.” Bruce’s hands roamed towards Lex’s backside. This area had always been especially nice. Bruce gave it a playful squeeze and felt himself harden. He remembered quite a few days back at Excelsior illicitly gazing at Lex changing clothes or simply walking around in his shorts. “I’m much stronger than I used to be.”
“I always thought you were pretty strong.” Bruce gave Lex’s right nipple a broad, slow lap with his tongue, circled it, began sucking it roughly. Lex groaned and arched his back. Bruce of course was well practiced with his sensitive spots. He felt as though Lex’s grip on his back might actually be bruising him. For the moment though, he didn’t care.
“Do you have lube with you?”
Bruce laughed, as he got up reluctantly to fetch it from his suitcase. “I can’t believe you’re even asking.”
“I assume that after such a long walkabout, you might have forgotten the KY just once. That you brought some on such a trip for which you were oblivious to the situation speaks volumes,” Lex commented as he stood to remove his pants.
“Is that your passive aggressive way of telling me that you think I’m a slut, Lex?”
“My calling someone else a slut would be entirely hypocritical.”
“That’s new.” Bruce returned to the bed, lube in hand and free from his clothing.
“Not really that new.” Lex pulled Bruce closer to him, and feeling the erection pressing against his thigh, began to drag his fingernails against the small of his back.
“Depends on your definition of slut, I suppose.” Bruce smiled at the unamused look on Lex’s face. He lowered his eyelids a bit and tucked his fingers under Bruce’s chin.
“Less talk.” Lex ordered and kissed Bruce sternly, grabbed his ass, and pulled them both back onto the bed. He shimmied up to the bedpost and beckoned with one hand. “I don’t have all day.”
“Pushy.” Bruce said, squeezing some lube onto his fingers.
“You can’t hurt me. Use enough for yourself and get going.”
“Oh, you like to scream during sex, do you?”
“You know I will anyway. If you do it right, that is,” Lex challenged. Bruce grinned as he lifted Lex’s legs and took a moment to admire the view.
“What happened to your tattoo?”
“What?”
“The one on the inside of your thigh? Nevermind. Later.” He could sense Lex was getting annoyed enough with him to grab his pants and walk shirtless out the door. That would be a hell of a way to restart their relationship. He preferred the method Lex had suggested and began to work his index finger in and out, while watching the irritation melt into the pleasurable discomfort of arousal. He slid in another finger, remarking to himself that Lex was tighter than he had any right to be, if the rumours about his activities were true. He’d think about that later, as well, and with a more than eager nod of the head from Lex, he pushed his way in.
Lex frowned hard at first, but continued nodding, and as Bruce began to slowly grind his hips, he let out a soft moan. Bruce smiled and lube still in hand, squirted some more on his fingers before discarding it. Lex’s cock stood proud and exposed before him bobbing along with their rocking motions. Lex grabbed the top ridge of the headboard and tightened his muscles so much that Bruce almost came at once.
“Easy!”
“Sorry... unn! Have to stow that gift… away for later.”
Bruce, with practiced hand, began to stroke Lex’s cock in time with his thrusts, which were becoming rougher, harder. He grabbed Lex’s shoulder for support and finally stopped worrying about what was happening or if Lex was ready for this. They were shaking the bed, slamming the wall so hard the paint and plaster began to break off.
He was babbling happily, and Lex was less moaning than roaring. The headboard ripped right off the bed, and Lex tossed it aside. Bruce couldn’t help but laugh and look into Lex’s eyes, knowing they were sharing something intense and special. He grabbed Bruce’s arm with one hand, holding him as tightly as he could without hurting him. Regardless, the hand and the legs, which were clamped down tightly on Bruce’s shoulders, would all be leaving a mark of this incident on him.
Bruce came into Lex just as the bed gave out beneath them. It didn’t take much to finish Lex off, and his cum shot right through the window, shattering the whole pane of glass. They panted for a moment, and Lex looked at him with that mischievous calm Bruce knew so well
“I hope there weren’t any planes out there.”
The two men laid their hands on each other. Whatever happened next, they were laughing and content for a brief moment, at least.
Remembering that moment and the subsequent conversation, he felt as though Lex must have had some sort of backup plan. He was a man often accused of paranoia. Obsessive and possessive it was true, he was, but there were oftentimes people trying to kill him, even before Bruce had left. There was a reality behind the paranoia.
“Bruce? Why are you stopping? Something wrong?” Chloe asked, gauging his expression in a calculated way that reminded him a bit of Lex. Only Lex probably wouldn’t have looked quite so concerned, regardless of what he was feeling.
“Nothing. I just took a moment to think like Lex would. Either these aliens are stupid, and they just let us go… or they are not stupid, and they are following us back to our base.”
“Oh.” Chloe’s eyes widened. “Fuck.”
The two of them looked to one another in askance, completely at a loss of what to do now.
“Well… if we can’t go back we may as well stay here and wait for them. I can’t let the aliens just take out what we have left,” Chloe told him. Bruce tried to think of something, but his head was still swimming, and it was very difficult to even focus on what was happening. There was a gust of wind, and Chloe’s eyes widened.
“Right then.” The voice was low and cold. The man walked around to face them. Blue eyed and dark haired, this man’s cheekbones seemed as though they could cut through iron. Chloe had stiffened her entire body and looked like she might force Bruce to run with her.
“Who are you?” Bruce asked.
The man seemed bored. “Your little ‘rebel’ friends call me Milton Fine. And frankly, I’m tired of watching you both limp all over the city anyway. If you aren’t going home, you’re coming with me.”
AN: ...
*Brandi voice* Nuthin says lovin like completely destroying an expensive hotel room!
Anything special you'd like babe?
Title: You Have Your Father's Eyes
Rating: NC 17
Summary: Zod has babies. Who's yo daddy?
Spoilers: SV 1-5, Batman stuphs, Superman II
Krypton
Twenty Years Ago
Medical Wing of the Science Spire
Zod leaned back against the clinical, white mat and watched the holographic projection before them. Since reproductive technologies these days primarily concerned ways of working out glitches in one’s birthing matix, Lara had needed to call in a favor to acquire a machine normally used for looking inside explosive devices. It worked rather well, however, and she, Jor-El, and Zod could see the contents of his abdomen quiet clearly. The projector displayed a three dimensional, illuminated image of a healthy fetus, which was clearly a boy.
“See that? The growth is putting strain on the wall of your birthing pouch. That’s why you are getting these cramps. Mind, I’ve never paid that much attention to them, other than a handful of cases when a patient’s pouch became infected and we… well, we just had to remove it. I’ve been examining goranda pregnancies for the past couple of weeks in correlation with Sar-Jol. Obviously they aren’t exactly like us, but… they do get similar pains, but not in so severe a degree.”
Jor-El looked to Lara to see if she was finished then asked hesitantly as he took Zod’s hand, “So does that mean something is wrong?”
“Not… well. Jor, we’ve gone so far with science that many of our ‘natural’ bodily resources are obsolete. There has been a large rise in non-reproductive sexualities among our people, whether you believe it or not. Men don’t spend time passing on knowledge about childbearing anymore. I’m not saying that this is impossible, but evolutionarily speaking, when an organ has no use for such a long time, it cannot be easy to put it back to its original use. I don’t know what they were like a thousand years ago, but male Kryptonian birthing pouches now are less elastic than those of goranda males. Period.”
“So we should take one of Sar-Jol’s lab gorandas and put the fetus in him?” Zod suggested lightly. Lara bumped his arm. They all knew that at this point, removing the fetus at all for any purpose would be impossible and most likely kill Zod.
”No.” She looked ponderously down at her feet then up at the hologram of their growing child. “We just need to keep an eye on you. I don’t want anything to happen.”
“So there is nothing to be done but wait?” Jor-El asked.
Zod squeezed his hand and regarded the form projected into the air. None of this was news to him. He had consulted the Brainiac computer the day before and discussed his plans in earnest.
“It should serve its purpose. The DNA is strong, and none of the Eradicator nanites have filtered into its blood. Your birthing pouch is protecting it from such an occurance,” the computer had said. There was something pithy in its tone, but the attitude of a criminal AI was hardly something Zod felt he needed to be concerned about.
“How are the experiments going?” Zod rebuttoned his shirt and walked over to a panel, which was running diagnostics on the current tests.
“As planned, and better in some cases.” The computer materialized itself into a masculine form. Why it chose the one that it did, Zod had never bothered to ask. “Your use for this fetus should work perfectly.”
“Krypton will be reborn. But we need more time. More people.”
“You know how much time you have. There is no changing that.”
“I am aware.” He began working at the computer once again. The Kryptonoid version of Brainiac frowned. It knew he was working with his program again, but due to the changes Zod had made, it could no longer move against him on its own.
Zod’s previous work in the military made his connections there strong. With Jor-El basically working for him, there was no one in the Law Council to question his orders. Having Jor-El speed up the space travel program’s reboot was also an immeasurable help, as was his experience off planet during the time his father had sent a robotic conduit of him to a primitive society to observe it. Zod was now in a position where none would think to halt his actions. Hopefully soon, Jor-El would be ready to take in the whole of his plan. He had been remarkably sympathetic to their plight thus far.
Having ignored their conversation until now, Zod lolled his head back onto the mat and watched the world around him. The most recent symptom of his pregnancy, a sort of lightheaded disorientation, was not unpleasant, but rather at times made him feel as though his Jor had decided to take them up in one of those dread flying machines. Standing up might not have been an option.
The device, which Lara had been using to operate the hologram, shot out of her hand, across the room, and smashed itself to pieces against the wall. The hologram flickered and died. Zod sighed. The next time he contacted the Brainiac computer, he would have to order a scan of his brain functions. He’d always had a light telekinesis, something he’d taught to several of his more loyal and gifted compatriots, but recently, he’d been having a bit of trouble controlling it.
“I apologise.”
Lara caressed their joined hands lightly then went to pick up the pieces. “No need. Forgiven.”
“Urm.” Ursa poked her head into the room. “Something explode?”
“No, Lal-Ursa dear. Dru has lost his temper with all of this and took it out on the holoprojector,” Lara said with a smile on her lips. The incredulous look on Ursa’s face just before realizing that she was being teased reminded Zod of a feminine form of Jor-El.
“You white as foam,” she said, walking over to the mat and sitting on the edge. Her features were caught somewhere between concern and irritation. She poked his belly. “Critter okay?”
“Hrr.” Zod grabbed her hand. “How dare you poke Zod.”
“You crazy.” Ursa laughed. She fought her own accent futilely. It made the error in her voice all the more discordant. “Hey, I came here to tell you that somethin is goin' down in the mil. Non’s been up to some crazy shit, taking all those report you been doin' and roundin' up people and now they passed some law says we can’t even make ships no more.”
Zod pushed himself up slowly. “Well, we’ll have to do something about this.”
Jor-El steadied him as he helped him up. “I’ll assist you. I still have some clout in the Law Council. You and Ursa certainly have enough in the military. What is he thinking? Is he trying to ensure that we all die?”
“He probably has no idea what he is doing,” Zod informed them.
Of course he didn’t know what he was doing. He was only doing as he was told.
***
Earth
Present
Metropolis- Forbidden Zones
“Bruce?”
”Bruce.”
”You’re late. You’re never late, Lex.”
He was late, and he looked disheveled in his business suit. There was something off about how he walked into the hotel room. He could have possibly been drunk, but his eyes seemed far too focused.
“I’m… it’s been a long day, Bruce.”
Bruce walked over to his old friend, wondering what was wrong, as something obviously was. He’d not been back in the country for very long, but the moment he’d returned, there were messages waiting from Lex. It could have been that someone was leading Lex on in his alien chase. However, Lex hadn’t made any attempt to contact him after the failed investigation directly following his disappearance. Only within the past few months had he begun calling the mansion again, and Lex’s last message had not sounded good.
“So. I hear your new boyfriend’s hurting you?” Bruce exuded a casual attitude, although he had flown to Metropolis overnight due to worry.
“What?”
“You called.” He softened his voice. “You asked for me, and I came.”
“You did.” Something was definitely wrong. Lex looked at his own hand curiously.
Bruce realized he should have come sooner, but could he have given the circumstances in Gotham City? Lex had changed quite a bit. That much was clear. “What is it?”
He closed the space between them and put his hands on Lex’s shoulders. Lex allowed the touch without question, an action fact in itself. “You said that the man you were sleeping with had attacked you. Yesterday, when you called Gotham. Remember? You said-”
“I remember. I…” Lex looked up into his face. His eyes were unnaturally wide and unnerved, but not afraid. Though Bruce wasn’t sure he knew what was natural to Lex anymore. “Someone is going to kill me. Well, he’s going to try. I knew that I had to come see you first.”
“Lex, I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.” Bruce tightened his grasp protectively. Bruce had never cared for Lex’s taste in men. Or women, for that matter, despite having shared a few of both with him.
“You can’t go near him. He could tear you apart.”
“I’ve picked up some skills in the past few years.”
”No, I mean, literally.”
Bruce started to laugh skeptically, but Lex looked so serious that he stopped.
“You should go home. You should get out of here. I never expected you to come in any case.”
“Then why-“
“I thought we might pool our resources to prevent what is happening. This is a dangerous situation, and it’s only going to get worse. I don’t know that you’ll be safer in Gotham City, but you won’t be safe here.”
“I’m not going to leave you here.”
“You did before.”
Bruce cupped the back of Lex’s head and scanned his face for emotion. He didn’t seem angry, which he’d expected. Lex simply seemed to be taking him in, temporarily disoriented again.
“I love you, Bruce.”
“… what?” He had to resist the urge to demand who this person was who called himself Lex Luthor. Now Bruce was certain alcohol must be involved. Possibly ecstasy.
“Don’t feel pressured to say anything in return. You know that it’s true... and you know that I always have.” He stated it flatly, with no room for argument.
All of the barriers that Lex had erected around himself throughout the years, all of the hang ups he’d had about their relationship, from the need for his father’s approval to being raised in Kansas. Bruce simply couldn’t believe that Lex would say anything like that out loud.
Lex caressed Bruce’s face, taking a second to rub his stubble with amusement. “I have to go.”
“Go get killed?”
Lex brushed off Bruce’s hands and stepped away. He rolled his shoulders. “Perhaps. Perhaps to die. Perhaps to save the day. Who knows where my destiny lies?”
Save the day. Dramatic Lex. “Stay.”
Lex turned back to him. He opened his mouth as though he were going to say something caustic. Then slid his hands into Bruce’s hair and kissed him on the lips.
This. This he had missed more than he could say. More than a warm bed or fine foods. Lex’s soft lips, his rough kisses, the way he played with his hair.
“I can’t,” Lex replied, still very close to his face.
To Bruce’s immense surprise, Lex swept him up into his arms effortlessly and began to carry him into the bedroom with a smirk on his face that was practically devilish.
“But we can have some fun before I go.”
Bruce was drifting in and out of consciousness, reliving bits and pieces of memories. There was panting in the waking world and sounds of pain.
A gunshot, the sound of pearls hitting concrete, and a child crying.
A screaming crowd of frightened, people practically frothing at the mouth with madness.
He sits in a wet, foreign place eating some unidentifiable foodstuff he has stolen. An image of Lex in his best suit sits in a ghostly fashion on a fence above Bruce with quirked eyebrows informing him on the international politics of the spreading food culture and why haggis had never made it big in a fast food chain.
“I believe in the largely untapped capacity for human development, Bruce,” Lex says. He musses Bruce’s filthy hair amiably. “We’re more than what we are or could be... and that is why you have to keep going.”
“I never planned on stopping.”
“Nor could you if you had,” this Lex agrees. “I believe in nothing. I have no gods but those that reside inside me. There is no faith to be had in human morals, but our abilities what we will be come is so far beyond our ken… we must never let anyone take away our ability to be our own myths. To create our own worlds. Never let a man be a world for you, Bruce. Never. Such a man must be destroyed.”
Bruce stands in the middle of a deserted Gotham street. A child in a clown suit and makeup hops in a puddle.
“I’m the queen of suicidal kings,” he says with an impossibly wide smile. “Some day I’ll show you where Lilith hangs her hat.”
He steps away and stumbles into two boys. One dark haired and one with no hair at all. He is now the boy. They are sitting on a bed in the dorm room of an expensive school in their pajamas, talking about nothing at all.
“Where were you?”
“When?”
The bald child’s eyes overrun with blood.
“When they tore my insides out.”
Bruce is in the middle of a Gotham street. There are crowds of panicking people around him.
Most people, Bruce thought to himself sometimes, would have actual dreams, but he rarely had dreams like normal people. Instead he was getting snatches of his parents’ deaths, flashes of old fights and conversations, and half-moments with an intensely sensual lover. He had been thinking about seeing a therapist on a regular basis, but he was afraid of what that person might see in him.
“That can’t be. Lex wouldn’t do that to me,” the small Asian girl had insisted.
Lionel’s features twitched in annoyance. “I rather wish I were lying to you, Miss Lang, but unfortunately I have a feed that records everything that goes on in his office. I had a maid set it up when he installed the saferoom.”
Martha put her hand to her forehead, looking wearied. “Lionel.”
“He destroys the recordings on his end, but I have copies in my office. Believe me, my mental health did not require my seeing my only son violated by an alien robot on his pool table.”
“And you seriously have no idea why Lex won’t let you talk to him?” Martha shook her head at him sympathetically. Lana was looking at her lap in utter revulsion.
“I try to do what is in his best interests, Martha. When I started to get an idea of what the ‘man’ he was sleeping with really was, I was tormented by images of Lex coming to tell me that he was in trouble and my grandchildren would have tentacles.”
Bruce was laughing. He opened his eyes a little. His head felt swollen and blood had dried in his eyes. There was a small woman dragging him by his shoulders.
“Something’s always… ugh! Funny to you, isn’t it?”
“Dreaming. ‘Member… Lionel’s fear ‘a the tentaclebabies.”
Chloe smiled a little at the image of Lex extremely pregnant with three adorable baby tentacle monsters. She would have to stow that one away for the next time he verbally struck her down. Then she remembered that there really would never be a next time.
Opening his eyes fully, his head was resting on in her chest. “C’n walk.”
“No, you can’t. The alien broke your ankle... and possibly your head.” Her voice was strained, but somewhat sarcastic. He had to be too heavy for her. She probably thought breaking his head wouldn’t do much damage.
“Then… I c’n limp. Be faster.”
“Okay.” She let him down and started to reposition him over her shoulder. “It was kind of weird. I mean, we got caught back there, but…”
He looked up at her to find the left side of Chloe’s face was purple and swollen and the eye was red from a broken blood vessel. Her lips were busted in two places and her clothing was ripped and bloody. This woman had been tortured.
“I haven’t seen any patrols or Fine clones since I woke up,” she finished. “Stop staring. You don’t look that pretty either.”
“How’d you get away?”
“It… I think it was just watching my reactions. Then I passed out, and I think it lost interest.”
“Kinky.”
“Uh, yeah. Keep moving, Luthor-lover.”
“What?”
“You were talking in your sleep.”
It had been quite awhile since he’d had his ass kicked so thoroughly by anyone. That combined with the fact a torture victim had been forced to half carry him out of there while hearing him call for Lex made this possibly the most humiliating day in a long long time.
“Someone knocked out Feign,” he explained, leaning on her. “That must have been how she saw us. Feign’s illusions went down. When you gave us the signal, I told the others to grab as many files as they could and go out the other exit we found.”
“It was a good plan. I doubt Nev could have taken it out in any case. They’re immune to almost everything.”
“Well, what aren’t they immune to? We should have a stockpile of that and use it to our best advantage when we get cornered like that.”
Chloe turned her head to him and frowned. He’d never seemed this serious before. He seemed a little high before, actually. “You can find some in Smallville. And Lex might have had a collection of it in the castle, too.”
“Then we should probably send a team over there to get as much as possible. It’s nice that they can’t see into our hideout, but for defensive purposes, we need a little more. They’re going to be looking for us now.”
She nodded. A moment or two passed as they hobbled along. “I’m sorry.”
“About what? Getting caught? That was hardly your failing on this mission. We should have kept a better eye on Feign.”
“No. I mean.” She looked ahead with a grimace. “About Lex. Not that I ever liked him much, but… seems like you were close.”
Bruce said nothing in response. He still wanted to believe his Lex was out there somewhere. He couldn’t accept that he’d seen his dearest friend for the last time five years ago.
Lex playfully tossed Bruce onto the bed, and Bruce remained speechless in surprise. There was no doubt that Lex could take care of himself, as Bruce had helped him learn how to fight, but he’d never been overwhelmingly strong. Lex’s mouth itched with a purposeful smirk and his fingers hooked under the fold between buttons on his dress shirt. With one swift motion, he ripped out of his shirt and jacket, revealing his hairless, defined chest.
“What happened to you?”
“I’ve changed.” Lex snapped the bundle of clothing across the room in a smooth motion. They both jumped as the dresser broke in half. “Hm. This might be more difficult than I’d thought.”
He kicked off his shoes then hopped onto the bed with Bruce. “I can see that… That you’ve changed, I mean.”
Bruce ran his thumb along the muscles of Lex’s arm. He still wasn’t quite as built as Bruce, but he’d definitely put in some effort. Almost without thinking, Bruce pressed his lips to Lex’s shoulder, then along to his collarbone, his Adam’s apple. Lex’s fingers automatically began sensually sliding through Bruce’s dark, messy hair. This was refreshingly familiar.
“You’ve heard of a brush, right?” Gentle kisses along Bruce’s eyebrows.
“I had a late night before I flew in.”
“I’m sure you did,” Lex said knowingly.
Bruce kissed his chin. Lex kissed his nose. Then their lips met each other halfway. Hot. Wet. Needful. Hungry and lonely. No faltering or wondering where they were except with each other, in each other. Lex had always had an aggressive tongue. They kissed, sucked, moved with each other, until they were both breathing erratically, leaning on one another.
Bruce eased Lex’s smaller frame onto the bed, noting how pliant he seemed right now, not resisting or pushing him down aggressively as he might. Lex watched him analytically, breathing in and out slowly as perspiration trickled down Bruce’s face.
“Don’t you sweat anymore?”
“It’s truly a pity.”
Bruce stripped his own shirt off and leaned over Lex, who wrapped his arms around Bruce possessively. Bruce’s hands ran up and down Lex’s sides, feeling his gentle warmth. His soft breathing. Fierce grey eyes watched his admiration. Bruce placed a kiss on the soft skin of his head. “Do you really want this? Like this?”
“I could hurt you. Look at the dresser.” Bruce’s hands roamed towards Lex’s backside. This area had always been especially nice. Bruce gave it a playful squeeze and felt himself harden. He remembered quite a few days back at Excelsior illicitly gazing at Lex changing clothes or simply walking around in his shorts. “I’m much stronger than I used to be.”
“I always thought you were pretty strong.” Bruce gave Lex’s right nipple a broad, slow lap with his tongue, circled it, began sucking it roughly. Lex groaned and arched his back. Bruce of course was well practiced with his sensitive spots. He felt as though Lex’s grip on his back might actually be bruising him. For the moment though, he didn’t care.
“Do you have lube with you?”
Bruce laughed, as he got up reluctantly to fetch it from his suitcase. “I can’t believe you’re even asking.”
“I assume that after such a long walkabout, you might have forgotten the KY just once. That you brought some on such a trip for which you were oblivious to the situation speaks volumes,” Lex commented as he stood to remove his pants.
“Is that your passive aggressive way of telling me that you think I’m a slut, Lex?”
“My calling someone else a slut would be entirely hypocritical.”
“That’s new.” Bruce returned to the bed, lube in hand and free from his clothing.
“Not really that new.” Lex pulled Bruce closer to him, and feeling the erection pressing against his thigh, began to drag his fingernails against the small of his back.
“Depends on your definition of slut, I suppose.” Bruce smiled at the unamused look on Lex’s face. He lowered his eyelids a bit and tucked his fingers under Bruce’s chin.
“Less talk.” Lex ordered and kissed Bruce sternly, grabbed his ass, and pulled them both back onto the bed. He shimmied up to the bedpost and beckoned with one hand. “I don’t have all day.”
“Pushy.” Bruce said, squeezing some lube onto his fingers.
“You can’t hurt me. Use enough for yourself and get going.”
“Oh, you like to scream during sex, do you?”
“You know I will anyway. If you do it right, that is,” Lex challenged. Bruce grinned as he lifted Lex’s legs and took a moment to admire the view.
“What happened to your tattoo?”
“What?”
“The one on the inside of your thigh? Nevermind. Later.” He could sense Lex was getting annoyed enough with him to grab his pants and walk shirtless out the door. That would be a hell of a way to restart their relationship. He preferred the method Lex had suggested and began to work his index finger in and out, while watching the irritation melt into the pleasurable discomfort of arousal. He slid in another finger, remarking to himself that Lex was tighter than he had any right to be, if the rumours about his activities were true. He’d think about that later, as well, and with a more than eager nod of the head from Lex, he pushed his way in.
Lex frowned hard at first, but continued nodding, and as Bruce began to slowly grind his hips, he let out a soft moan. Bruce smiled and lube still in hand, squirted some more on his fingers before discarding it. Lex’s cock stood proud and exposed before him bobbing along with their rocking motions. Lex grabbed the top ridge of the headboard and tightened his muscles so much that Bruce almost came at once.
“Easy!”
“Sorry... unn! Have to stow that gift… away for later.”
Bruce, with practiced hand, began to stroke Lex’s cock in time with his thrusts, which were becoming rougher, harder. He grabbed Lex’s shoulder for support and finally stopped worrying about what was happening or if Lex was ready for this. They were shaking the bed, slamming the wall so hard the paint and plaster began to break off.
He was babbling happily, and Lex was less moaning than roaring. The headboard ripped right off the bed, and Lex tossed it aside. Bruce couldn’t help but laugh and look into Lex’s eyes, knowing they were sharing something intense and special. He grabbed Bruce’s arm with one hand, holding him as tightly as he could without hurting him. Regardless, the hand and the legs, which were clamped down tightly on Bruce’s shoulders, would all be leaving a mark of this incident on him.
Bruce came into Lex just as the bed gave out beneath them. It didn’t take much to finish Lex off, and his cum shot right through the window, shattering the whole pane of glass. They panted for a moment, and Lex looked at him with that mischievous calm Bruce knew so well
“I hope there weren’t any planes out there.”
The two men laid their hands on each other. Whatever happened next, they were laughing and content for a brief moment, at least.
Remembering that moment and the subsequent conversation, he felt as though Lex must have had some sort of backup plan. He was a man often accused of paranoia. Obsessive and possessive it was true, he was, but there were oftentimes people trying to kill him, even before Bruce had left. There was a reality behind the paranoia.
“Bruce? Why are you stopping? Something wrong?” Chloe asked, gauging his expression in a calculated way that reminded him a bit of Lex. Only Lex probably wouldn’t have looked quite so concerned, regardless of what he was feeling.
“Nothing. I just took a moment to think like Lex would. Either these aliens are stupid, and they just let us go… or they are not stupid, and they are following us back to our base.”
“Oh.” Chloe’s eyes widened. “Fuck.”
The two of them looked to one another in askance, completely at a loss of what to do now.
“Well… if we can’t go back we may as well stay here and wait for them. I can’t let the aliens just take out what we have left,” Chloe told him. Bruce tried to think of something, but his head was still swimming, and it was very difficult to even focus on what was happening. There was a gust of wind, and Chloe’s eyes widened.
“Right then.” The voice was low and cold. The man walked around to face them. Blue eyed and dark haired, this man’s cheekbones seemed as though they could cut through iron. Chloe had stiffened her entire body and looked like she might force Bruce to run with her.
“Who are you?” Bruce asked.
The man seemed bored. “Your little ‘rebel’ friends call me Milton Fine. And frankly, I’m tired of watching you both limp all over the city anyway. If you aren’t going home, you’re coming with me.”
AN: ...
*Brandi voice* Nuthin says lovin like completely destroying an expensive hotel room!