(Upload) Displacement
Well, this story is the follow up for the last post. Yeah, I did ended up writing a short ficlet with Bruce being a manwhore. Also, sasha_anu told me she didn't actually expected me to write it, even though we had been talking about Brex. She feeds my plot bunnies and then expects them not to breed? Madness!
She did an awesome job at beta'ing this piece. It's still a bit weird (the flow is kind of DC's Dictionary, and that's terrible), but I like it. So, amejitsu and sasha_anu and myself were discussing tops who top tops (the discussion which gave birth to the Plot Bunny From Hell), and this happened. I don't want to get addicted to any of this pairings, but it seems too late now.
Also, I really like Mercy.
Fandom: DC
Pairings: Bruce/Mercy, Bruce/Clark, Bruce/Lex, and… well. Read it.
Rating: R (why do I even bother? I never know)
Summary: Bruce knows he’s a poor substitute.
Started on April 23rd 2006 at 1:40 am
Finished on April 23rd 2006 at 3:00 am
Displacement
Bruce knows he’s a poor substitute.
For one thing, there are bangs of hair falling in front of his eyes, eyes that are of the wrong color. When they look up, he knows they want to see catlike green eyes, sparkling with desire, and not bottomless brown pits that look almost absent.
He’s slightly taller, and his body build is completely wrong. He’s not a lithe, athletic, millionaire in good shape under a power suit, but wider and bulkier; graceful, but he doesn’t move like a prowling cat.
His hands feel right, manly but well cared for, though that in itself is a battle fought every day. A playboy has no business having rough callused crime fighter’s hands, so he tries to keep up the pretense. They feel right, but they aren’t. The hands they want are more sensual, less clinical, even if their touch is just as controlled as his.
But there are ways in which his role-play is flawless. He knows this because even though it’s not him they want, they let him have them anyway.
Mercy probably knows Lex better than most. She doesn’t understand him, even though she thinks she does, but she knows him. She wishes Lex would love her, but she knows he never will.
She still wants him just the same.
She knows he’s not a good substitue, but Lex won’t touch her. She can’t help wanting what she can’t have, and there are ways in which Bruce is a lot like Lex. She never notices how much it’s just an act played out for her benefit.
Clark knows Lex, and understands him better than anyone. Lex will always be a bitter memory to him, a constant source of raw pain, but it doesn’t stop Clark from wanting him.
Clark loves Lex, just as Mercy loves Lex. It’s not quite the same, Bruce knows, because they both sleep with him for different reasons.
Mercy wants to stop the pain. She wants to have Lex, even if all she can have is the part of Bruce that pretends to be Lex. In the end she also wants to stop wanting Lex, wants to leave all the bitter hopes and unattainable desires behind her.
Bruce thinks she’s close to getting over Lex, and knows she’ll never be more heartbroken than on the day she does.
Clark wants to keep the pain alive. He wants Lex to finally break him, put himself at his mercy and see where their dance of hate is leading them. Clark doesn’t want the pain to end; he doesn’t want to stop loving Lex, because he thinks it makes him human.
Bruce knows he loves Clark, but he also knows that Clark already has a dark man with iron control in his heart, and there’s no place in it for the both of them. It doesn’t matter, Bruce is used to giving up the things he loves.
It hurts, though, to see Clark close his eyes when he touches him. Shadows are his home, the place where he feels most at ease, but he wishes Clark would look at him instead of pretending he’s someone else in the dark.
Mercy never closes her eyes. She’s aggressive and has been getting more involved in their encounters over time. She’s even pulled his hair, which is an acknowledge Clark would never make. Clark goes to great lengths not to touch him anywhere that isn’t strictly anonymously male. Bruce supposes it’s okay, he never feels comfortable when Superman touches Batman’s scars.
Mercy always cries. Clark may never open his eyes, but at least he doesn’t cry. When he gets dressed, Bruce always tries to look away. Pretending to be Lex for them is not as embarrassing as seeing Mercy crying over broken dreams or Clark protecting his humanity with denial.
Bruce never speaks. It’s another thing he knows is wrong, because Lex is quite the talker, but his voice, his breathing, even his words are wrong. It’s better to remain silent.
He leaves quietly, knowing that even though he’s a poor replacement for Lex Luthor, he has the basics down. He never shows any of them that he cares, and that’s core Lex. He’s always in control, displaying power and arrogance, Lex’s personal turn on. Mercy and Clark recognize the gesture, and tremble with the need to be overpowered by the confident man that can do anything he wants. The eyes are wrong, but he shows them the cold distance that speaks volumes about their place in their relationship, and they worship the Lex in him.
Bruce doesn’t know why he sleeps with them. He can relate to Mercy, wanting to get over a self-destructive desire but mourning it all the way, and he can relate to Clark because he too goes to great lengths to get what he wants, even if it’s not quite right.
In the heights of passion, Clark always screams Lex’s name. It’s not quite right, but Bruce can’t bring himself to care. Mercy never says any names, which is unnerving.
Lex never says any names either, though he likes to call him other things. Bruce tells himself that he doesn’t feel guilty about being with them when he’s the one fucking Lex, but he’s used to feeling guilty anyway.
She did an awesome job at beta'ing this piece. It's still a bit weird (the flow is kind of DC's Dictionary, and that's terrible), but I like it. So, amejitsu and sasha_anu and myself were discussing tops who top tops (the discussion which gave birth to the Plot Bunny From Hell), and this happened. I don't want to get addicted to any of this pairings, but it seems too late now.
Also, I really like Mercy.
Fandom: DC
Pairings: Bruce/Mercy, Bruce/Clark, Bruce/Lex, and… well. Read it.
Rating: R (why do I even bother? I never know)
Summary: Bruce knows he’s a poor substitute.
Started on April 23rd 2006 at 1:40 am
Finished on April 23rd 2006 at 3:00 am
Displacement
Bruce knows he’s a poor substitute.
For one thing, there are bangs of hair falling in front of his eyes, eyes that are of the wrong color. When they look up, he knows they want to see catlike green eyes, sparkling with desire, and not bottomless brown pits that look almost absent.
He’s slightly taller, and his body build is completely wrong. He’s not a lithe, athletic, millionaire in good shape under a power suit, but wider and bulkier; graceful, but he doesn’t move like a prowling cat.
His hands feel right, manly but well cared for, though that in itself is a battle fought every day. A playboy has no business having rough callused crime fighter’s hands, so he tries to keep up the pretense. They feel right, but they aren’t. The hands they want are more sensual, less clinical, even if their touch is just as controlled as his.
But there are ways in which his role-play is flawless. He knows this because even though it’s not him they want, they let him have them anyway.
Mercy probably knows Lex better than most. She doesn’t understand him, even though she thinks she does, but she knows him. She wishes Lex would love her, but she knows he never will.
She still wants him just the same.
She knows he’s not a good substitue, but Lex won’t touch her. She can’t help wanting what she can’t have, and there are ways in which Bruce is a lot like Lex. She never notices how much it’s just an act played out for her benefit.
Clark knows Lex, and understands him better than anyone. Lex will always be a bitter memory to him, a constant source of raw pain, but it doesn’t stop Clark from wanting him.
Clark loves Lex, just as Mercy loves Lex. It’s not quite the same, Bruce knows, because they both sleep with him for different reasons.
Mercy wants to stop the pain. She wants to have Lex, even if all she can have is the part of Bruce that pretends to be Lex. In the end she also wants to stop wanting Lex, wants to leave all the bitter hopes and unattainable desires behind her.
Bruce thinks she’s close to getting over Lex, and knows she’ll never be more heartbroken than on the day she does.
Clark wants to keep the pain alive. He wants Lex to finally break him, put himself at his mercy and see where their dance of hate is leading them. Clark doesn’t want the pain to end; he doesn’t want to stop loving Lex, because he thinks it makes him human.
Bruce knows he loves Clark, but he also knows that Clark already has a dark man with iron control in his heart, and there’s no place in it for the both of them. It doesn’t matter, Bruce is used to giving up the things he loves.
It hurts, though, to see Clark close his eyes when he touches him. Shadows are his home, the place where he feels most at ease, but he wishes Clark would look at him instead of pretending he’s someone else in the dark.
Mercy never closes her eyes. She’s aggressive and has been getting more involved in their encounters over time. She’s even pulled his hair, which is an acknowledge Clark would never make. Clark goes to great lengths not to touch him anywhere that isn’t strictly anonymously male. Bruce supposes it’s okay, he never feels comfortable when Superman touches Batman’s scars.
Mercy always cries. Clark may never open his eyes, but at least he doesn’t cry. When he gets dressed, Bruce always tries to look away. Pretending to be Lex for them is not as embarrassing as seeing Mercy crying over broken dreams or Clark protecting his humanity with denial.
Bruce never speaks. It’s another thing he knows is wrong, because Lex is quite the talker, but his voice, his breathing, even his words are wrong. It’s better to remain silent.
He leaves quietly, knowing that even though he’s a poor replacement for Lex Luthor, he has the basics down. He never shows any of them that he cares, and that’s core Lex. He’s always in control, displaying power and arrogance, Lex’s personal turn on. Mercy and Clark recognize the gesture, and tremble with the need to be overpowered by the confident man that can do anything he wants. The eyes are wrong, but he shows them the cold distance that speaks volumes about their place in their relationship, and they worship the Lex in him.
Bruce doesn’t know why he sleeps with them. He can relate to Mercy, wanting to get over a self-destructive desire but mourning it all the way, and he can relate to Clark because he too goes to great lengths to get what he wants, even if it’s not quite right.
In the heights of passion, Clark always screams Lex’s name. It’s not quite right, but Bruce can’t bring himself to care. Mercy never says any names, which is unnerving.
Lex never says any names either, though he likes to call him other things. Bruce tells himself that he doesn’t feel guilty about being with them when he’s the one fucking Lex, but he’s used to feeling guilty anyway.