Prism

by Hope


Happy birthday, Spike!


There were colors, and Lex couldn't remember their names. Red, he had a handle on that- he could taste red, iron and hot in his mouth- red and hot in his wrenched back shoulders, like growing wings, red throbbing in his wrists that ached all the way to his fingers. Blue there, he could account for blue in his cold hands, and the cool washing over him everywhere, black, he knew black when he closed his eyes, and recognized white when he focused on the tip of his nose.

Maybe that was silver, the slick, probing heat on his ass, dark red spots spreading him open and sliding in. Shallow strokes, then long and deep, liquid silver delving into him, infecting his blood with the color. One long slide, and he felt it aching in his cock, tingling in his nipples, unfamiliar and lush. Silver so good, he couldn't quite remember where the rest of the colors went, or how they disappeared. He had a vague recollection of lights, and sweat- hot red sweat and a bitter tablet passed from tongue to tongue to swallow green.

Silver everywhere now, deeper and faster, plunging into him with dark murmurs on the side, those crimson spots spreading to dig into his hips. Lex twisted, hands caught above his head somehow, couldn't reach down to stroke silver over his own cock, couldn't find leverage to push back against the mouth- had to be a mouth- to feel more. Feel it harder, feel it deeper, he'd been dancing, blinded with stuttered strobes that washed away all the colors.

He wanted-needed-something harder than mercury silver, and when he remembered his own mouth to speak, he had to drag his teeth out of his lower lip to speak. More red, hot and iron when he rolled his lips, maybe red was blood or pain or just something good, because that's how his voice sounded through the pounding rush in his ears. Rasped and ragged, demanding steel silver, now.

Blush rose answered instead, wrapping tender, delicate lips around the head of his cock and sinking halfway down, two more crimson spots rising on his hips. Two. Somehow two, two pairs of lips, two tongues, sucking him, fucking him with textured, colored heat, and what the hell had been in all that green? He twisted again, shoulders screaming, fingers throbbing from tingling blue to cool black as blush swallowed and mercury thrust.

Throwing his head back, his throat pulling taut red and he rocked, trying to fuck the mouth teasing him with little pink laps and mauve flickers. Still not hard enough, not swaying forward into her? mouth, swaying back onto one, black snake demands for more-now met with sudden, streaking red down his chest. Nails over nipples, down the flat of his belly, then sheathed to wrap scarlet around the base of his cock and beneath his balls.

Suddenly, no more silver, just blush sucking him with little ivory edges dragging against the head of his cock; silver washed up his spine, trailing crimson up his sides and over his aching arms. Something smelled black and sweet above his head, spots of heat working between his wrists and then he was weightless, falling under guiding hands, in an instant, or maybe an eternity. Violet softness caught his weight, weaving pink rainbows cross his face, along his scalp and twining behind his head to pull him down and mingle iron red with rose.

Fingers throbbing as red rushed in to wash away blue, he buried them in long silken rivers and opened his mouth again, plunging past swollen lips to taste himself, on her tongue. Precum rich like gold, he chased it into her mouth, again and again, his iridescent flesh remembering motion and power against the earth grey pull of gravity. Vivid hues between her legs, he pushed past plum and orchid into violet, so tight, so hot with little lavender whimpers fed to him on her cum-stained tongue.

Easy like tide, rolling into her, gold battering pink, he bit his name from her lips, smiling sharp, gilt smiles with more teeth than amusement on the curve of her throat. Power and control and pleasure, feeling blush everywhere, everywhere, he'd forgotten silver until he drew back to crash into her again. Weight on his hips, a crimson spot bloomed on his waist, and then silver, steel-silver pressing tight against his hole. One metal cool warning, a slide along the cleft of his ass, then stretching him, fire-tempered steel forcing inside.

Pink pulled him in again, sheathing his cock with tangy hues, and silver pulled back, invading and impaling with hard, contrary slides. Controlled and helpless, Lex shifted iridescent between fucking and being fucked, twisting better on his knees, between her knees, he found rhythm like dancing, like driving fast, like swallowing green pills and learning to fly. Pushed and pulled, pulling, pushing, he hooked glittering arms beneath her knees and thrust harder, every strike echoed on the backstroke with harder thrusts into him. Hands, yes, hands burned red on his hips, a cock inside him, his cock inside her, burning with two different shades of heat, inside and out.

On a perfect rhythm, an explosion of fireworks, he was color, all colors, the spectrum splitting back into him to make pure white, and he collapsed on top of her and buried his teeth in her shoulder, poured out and poured into, gasping for pure blue breaths. Dimming, everything bled to shadows, dusk and grey, dark and cobalt, and gravity shifted again. On his side, pressed between slate bodies sticky and hot, Lex closed his eyes and listened to three breaths tangle in the dark.

In the quiet, a soft, twilight hand smoothed down his chest, and tried to push away the ash fingers resting on his waist. When they didn't cede, a voice, her voice, finally cut through the pleasant, hazy shades of nothing to barb mauve jealousy in his ears. "We shouldn't impose on Bruce like this, Lex. We can go back to daddy's suite."

Before Lex could answer, before he could remember how his red mouth worked, silver and black Bruce tightened his fingers and murmured, "Shut up and go to sleep, Victoria."

Drifting off between their bickering, Lex hoped he remembered not to take green again.



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