FIC: Walking Wounded
Title: Walking Wounded
Pair: Clex
Five of Seven Clexmas ficlets for the True Love Fest
Prompt: Cupid's Bow
Lex felt it when the Enochian symbol etched into his heart. He didn't know what it was, mind, and at the time he'd suspected that the alien had done something to him, or he was simply having a heart attack from the frustration of dealing with this idiot before him in lurid, bright primary colored spandex.
Little did he know, a lower-order angel had just literally, viscerally written a script onto his heart.
Days passed, weeks, years. He went to doctors, specialists, herbalists even. Nothing eased the ache of his heart.
He drank to deaden the pain of it. But when he came face to face with the alien, it was as though the wound split open. His life away from the alien was agony, but he couldn’t force himself to admit what this pain meant.
When he saw the televised wedding of the Superman, he lay at home clutching his chest and wishing that he could inflict the same pain on the heart of Superman that he had felt for so long. He closed his eyes.
Could anything living survive pain such as this?
Opening his eyes, he looked at the grating, vapid creature that Superman had chosen to bind himself to, presumably for life. He could blow her up. He could infect her with an incurable disease. He could set her up to be seduced and then caught by her very groom.
Somehow he doubted any of these actions would endear him to Superman.
He thought that it might be a better use of his time to kill Superman. At the very least, that might ease his torment.
Lex got to his feet and walked away from his floor to ceiling television. Everyone loved Superman. Everyone in the city loved him, perhaps in the world. Blindly, stupidly, superficially, loved and worshiped his every action. And yet, no one, not even the top-heavy harpy locking lips with him over a bouquet of dead floral sex organs, knew what it was to be in love with him. To know his flaws, to be so well acquainted with his every fault, but to still, still, still, feel the searing burning in his chest at the very thought, sight, or touch of him.
In love, Lex thought, pausing on his way to the bar. In love, with Superman.
This entry was originally posted at Dreamwidth.
comments posted there. Please comment there using OpenID or your DW account.
Pair: Clex
Five of Seven Clexmas ficlets for the True Love Fest
Prompt: Cupid's Bow
Lex felt it when the Enochian symbol etched into his heart. He didn't know what it was, mind, and at the time he'd suspected that the alien had done something to him, or he was simply having a heart attack from the frustration of dealing with this idiot before him in lurid, bright primary colored spandex.
Little did he know, a lower-order angel had just literally, viscerally written a script onto his heart.
Days passed, weeks, years. He went to doctors, specialists, herbalists even. Nothing eased the ache of his heart.
He drank to deaden the pain of it. But when he came face to face with the alien, it was as though the wound split open. His life away from the alien was agony, but he couldn’t force himself to admit what this pain meant.
When he saw the televised wedding of the Superman, he lay at home clutching his chest and wishing that he could inflict the same pain on the heart of Superman that he had felt for so long. He closed his eyes.
Could anything living survive pain such as this?
Opening his eyes, he looked at the grating, vapid creature that Superman had chosen to bind himself to, presumably for life. He could blow her up. He could infect her with an incurable disease. He could set her up to be seduced and then caught by her very groom.
Somehow he doubted any of these actions would endear him to Superman.
He thought that it might be a better use of his time to kill Superman. At the very least, that might ease his torment.
Lex got to his feet and walked away from his floor to ceiling television. Everyone loved Superman. Everyone in the city loved him, perhaps in the world. Blindly, stupidly, superficially, loved and worshiped his every action. And yet, no one, not even the top-heavy harpy locking lips with him over a bouquet of dead floral sex organs, knew what it was to be in love with him. To know his flaws, to be so well acquainted with his every fault, but to still, still, still, feel the searing burning in his chest at the very thought, sight, or touch of him.
In love, Lex thought, pausing on his way to the bar. In love, with Superman.
This entry was originally posted at Dreamwidth.
comments posted there. Please comment there using OpenID or your DW account.