by DebC

Okay, the thing is, FEEDBACK, is the only way I'm ever going to know if you read this fic and had thoughts on it. I can't read your minds. It doesn't have to be a complex review; I'll take all kinds.


The bedroom was dark, and Lex didn't bother to turn on the lights. He knew the room like the back of his hand, anyway, and didn't need a light to navigate it. Which was definitely a good thing because he was too exhausted to bother with turning on the lights in the first place.

Shrugging out of his expensive jacket and letting it drop to the floor behind him, he crossed the room to the armoire. He fingers were just working the first button of his shirt when he became aware that something was off. He hadn't heard anything, not that he was aware of, but he suddenly felt as if he were being watched. Indeed, it felt as if someone were leveling a very heavy gaze upon him. He was familiar with that gaze. Too familiar.

"Quit skulking and come in already," he said, directing the comment to a darkened corner by the window. A half a breath later, a dark figure emerged from the shadows. "Bruce... long time..."

No see, he added internally, his face tightening.

The intruder stepped closer, his cape swirling around his body like a black wind. "He's onto you," came a deep, gravelly voice. Most people were afraid of that voice, but not Lex Luthor. He knew what the nuances meant, could distinguish them when most others only heard its menace.

He shrugged, as if he didn't care what the other man was saying. "I'm onto him, as well," he replied, and continued to unbutton his shirt. He pretended to ignore his uninvited guest.

"Lex..." His name was growled harshly. "You should stop this now, while you still can."

"I should, but I won't. Is that why you're here? To warn me off from going against Clark?" His voice was full of venom. Bruce Wayne hadn't so much as acknowledged him since his father's untimely demise almost a year ago. That had hurt worse than Clark's betrayal had. "Where is Clark, by the way?" he asked almost off-handedly.

He looked up from his last button just in time to see Bruce scowl. "He's in Smallville, with his mother." Burying his father, but that fact was left unspoken between them, as it need not be said. Jonathan Kent had been at the wrong place at the right time, as far as Lex was concerned. The farmer had unwittingly stumbled upon one of Lex's... experiments. It had been a terrible accident, but on the bright side, Lex's experiment had been a success.

"And he sent his errand boy to do his bidding. How nice," commented Lex, smirking contemptuously as he shrugged off his shirt. He was working on his belt when the shadowy figure of a man before him seemed to glimmer, moving in fast and invading his personal space within mere nanoseconds. Instinctively, he raised his hands as if to ward off an attack--or reach for a lover.

His wrists were captured easily in one gloved hand and hoisted roughly above his head as the still-masked man pushed him up against one of the carved poles of his four-poster bed. The ornate wood held him steady, suspended like a scarecrow inches above the ground, as the covered face leaned in towards him.

"I am no one's errand boy." The Dark Knight spat out each word, his breath hot on Lex's skin. His captive shivered involuntarily, his body betraying him as dormant feelings were reawakened. Lex wanted to speak--to cover his tracks with caustic words--but speech was impeded by the mouth that clamped down on his own.

Even as he struggled to breathe, his treacherous body was reacting to each furious kiss. He arched upwards, pressing into the body pinning him down. His nostrils were filled with the smell of rubber, leather, and night. Need--sweet and painful--welled up inside him. He ached to touch the cowl shrouding Bruce's face, longed to see all of his former lover's features.

"Bruce..." he hissed out as the kiss was broken and they both took greedy gulps of air. Sweat loosened the grip on his wrists, and one hand slipped free, reaching to touch the face that was still so close. The chiseled jaw tightened under the tips of fingers. He thumbed the other man's lips, deliberately rubbing them in harsh strokes until they parted in a ragged groan.

That he could still elicit such a response was not lost on Lex. It pained him because it signified wasted time and potential. He and Bruce had been great together--could still be great together--and it was all for naught. They should stop this now, a defeatist part of his brain argued. It would come to nothing but more polluted water under the bridge.

But already Bruce was trembling under his touch--no longer the aggressor in what was taking place. "Lex..." he rasped, rubbing his head into Lex's palm, and Lex responded by hooking fingers under the edge of the cowl and pushing back. Soft, sweat soaked hair met his touch and rest of the hidden face came into view.

Bruce's eyes were different now, no longer filled with stony anger but brimming with unchecked desire. The gloved hand that still held his other wrist unclenched, releasing him even as his fingers sank into the dark hair. Their bodies crashed together, pushing Lex unceremoniously onto the bed.

"The suit," he choked out in breaths gasped between hungry kisses. Bruce growled a non-verbal reply and pulled away to undress. Lex watched, fascinated as untouchable superhero transformed into human flesh. Hard, ready human flesh.

Bruce paused to search for lube, and then turned his attentions to Lex's remaining clothes, his hands rushing to get them both naked as quickly as possible. He was not gentle, and Lex's boxers ripped in his grasp. The sound of tearing silk was a strange aphrodisiac, heightening Lex's need as soon as it hit his eardrums. He needed Bruce to be rough with him, to hold him down and punish him with unrelenting passion.

And he did just that, taking the body that Lex offered up to him in fierce strokes and greedy kisses. Marking him with sharp teeth, claiming him again if only for one tumultuous moment.

Their climaxes came simultaneously, and Bruce collapsed upon the bed, pulling Lex closer. Lex let him do it, enjoying the feeling of Bruce's arm blanketing him. Shielding him from the things left unsaid between them. It was a moment that should have gone untainted forever.

"What happened?" he whispered, although he knew any words would spoil things utterly. "Where did it all go wrong for us?"

It was the wrong question, and suddenly Bruce was releasing him-- pulling away and climbing from the bed.

"You killed your father," he accused.

"That was an accident." Lex shot back. It had been... the first of many deaths, but an accident nonetheless. He hadn't meant his father to be there when the hit went down.

"How is murder an accident? I saw the evidence Clark found. You put a hit--"

"I put a hit on myself," Lex whispered, stopping his one-time-friend cold.

"What?" Dark eyes studied him closely, as if weighing the words against the man. "Why would you do that?"

"I was testing Clark."

Bruce glared at him--a full year of doubt and mistrust between them.

"I wanted him to tell me, Bruce. Our friendship was built on a huge lie, and I wanted him to tell me the truth. His secret. I figured if I was in danger, he'd save me and then he'd have to tell me the truth." A week later, Superman had given the Daily Planet the inside scoop on his extra-terrestrial origins. An abridged version of a truth Lex knew without being told. It was all the explanation Clark had given, and their friendship ended that day.

Bruce was silent as he devoured Lex's words, and Lex knew the thoughtful expression all too well. He continued. "Dad wasn't supposed to be there--just me--but he chose that moment to drop by and mend some of the fences between us. I tried to get him leave, I swear it."

"The servants said they'd heard you arguing with him..." the other man whispered.

"I thought if I got him angry enough, he'd just go, but it was too late." Lex screwed his eyes shut. "I hated my father, Bruce, but he was my father. I wouldn't have--"

"What about Clark's father, Lex?"

Damn. He'd hoped to avoid that subject. It wasn't as if he'd actually been in control for that loss of life. He opened his eyes slowly, meeting the disapproving gaze with silent resignation.

"You don't plan to stop, do you? The experiments? The lies?" The tone was accusing.

How could he? It'd gone too far now to stop it. He gave a slight shake of his head and then watched as Bruce began to pull his uniform back on. Lex hated that costume. Bruce hid behind it almost as much as he hid behind his hate. He looked away, trying to find the words necessary to make Bruce stay.

There were none, however, and by the time he looked back, Batman's cape was waving its bittersweet farewell from the window.

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