saga/title/fandom: The Other (Smallville)

author: AlexisBroken

rating/genre: (NC-17) - drama/angst

warnings: slash, heated sexual content

summary: Sometimes you shouldn't get everything you want. (Lex/Clark/Bruce Wayne)

comments/disclaimers: Don't own any of them (but oh if I did...). Archive: To WWOMB sure, others ask. Feedback: Please

"Are you sure about this, Lex?"

Clark is giving me that doe-like gaze through his lashes that never fails to make me forget whatever it was I was supposed to be doing at that moment.

I shift my gaze to Bruce, keeping my expression as neutral as possible. "I never do anything I'm not sure about, Clark." Keeping my eyes on the third party of this odd little threesome, I ease myself into the large leather armchair in the corner of my opulent bedroom. "You can proceed whenever you're ready."

Clark is still very expectantly hesitant, so Bruce kisses him tentatively at first, lightly brushing his lips against Clark's in an exploratory kind of way, then parting them to draw Clark's bottom lip into his mouth. Clark gives a small whimper as he does this, and I shift slightly in my seat.

I'm still surprised that Clark agreed to this. I mean, letting me watch someone else do him? I few months ago I would have laughed myself into a coma at the thought. However, Clark wants to please me, so he sets his diffidence aside under the condition that Bruce be the "someone else." *Bruce*? Hell, I'm surprised *I* even agreed to that. I've found myself increasingly *possessive* where Clark is concerned, and I'm perfectly aware of Bruce's attraction to him. Nonetheless, Clark trusts him, and I know Clark well enough to know that this little scenario would never happen unless the "moody one" was part of the deal.

Besides, the opportunity is just too good to pass over. Just the *idea* of it makes me... *shiver*.

But ideas and actual events are different entities altogether.

Bruce is devouring Clark's mouth now, running his hands under that god-awful red and blue sweater and pushing it up over his lovely abs, up high enough so I can see the dark nipples, already stiff and peaked and...

Throaty moan from Clark as Bruce twists them, his body arching closer, his fingers fumbling with the buttons on Bruce's shirt. Bruce pushes him back on the bed and clamps his teeth over his right nipple, biting down hard.

This makes Clark just stop and throw his head back, very briefly fisting a handful of Bruce's hair.


Low and guttural, somewhere between an order and a plea, and Bruce bites him again, harder...

"*Yes*, *again*..."

...and harder still, and it almost looks like Bruce going to take Clark's nipple off...

"*Oh God*..."

and Clark is writhing, surrendering against Bruce's mouth, and my pants are now painfully tight and it takes a completely ridiculous amount of *effort* to get them undone, and I'm surprisingly aroused considering they've still got their clothes on.

Bruce releases Clark long enough to get that stupid sweater over his head and Clark can't seem to get out of his jeans fast enough and I haven't decided if that bothers me or not and *Jesus*, they don't seem to have any trouble forgetting I'm in the room, do they?

They've managed to get all their clothes off now and Bruce resumes exploring Clark with his teeth, biting and scraping his way down his torso, and when he reaches his balls I can't keep from wincing as he clamps down there just as hard as he did on Clark's nipples. Clark just whimpers.

Bruce inhales Clark into his mouth, deep, and my hand begins to slowly slide up and down my shaft. Speeds up when Bruce rakes his abdomen with his nails and I realize that hardly anything Bruce has done to Clark so far has been gentle.


And Clark doesn't seem to mind that at all.

Bruce pulls off with torturous slowness and pushes Clark's legs up and back.

Bites the inside of his thigh and Clark is losing it and I'm getting the intriguing notion that Clark must really be into pain as well as the unsettling impression that they've done this before.

Clark shivers as Bruce traces the crack of his ass with his finger and I can *smell* his need.

Bruce picks up the tube that somehow managed to not be knocked off the bed and flips the cap open, and Clark is staring at him with such unwavering *want* that my dick jerks.

Lubes his fingers and cock deliberately slowly, waiting for it...


Hips arching upwards, strained, begging...


... as Bruce slips in his index finger to the hilt, pushing, deeper...


Another finger, then two more, and Clark is thrusting against them, actually riding them...

And I can see Bruce's cock is red and rigid and leaking, and I know he's not going to be able to drag this out much longer.


Choking sob from Clark, and I don't believe I've ever heard anyone's name *pleaded* like that before.

Not even mine.

Apparently Bruce hasn't either, because he yanks his fingers out quickly and positions himself against Clark's ass.

"*Please, in me NOW*..."

Rams in hard, all the way, not a bit careful or gentle, and Clark's wail is enough to make me squeeze myself hard to keep from coming.

"*Jesus you're so ti*-"

Bruce barely even pauses, thrusting quickly and forcefully, like he knows exactly how Clark wants it, how rough and brutal and fierce Clark needs it to be, and Clark is ripping the sheets like fucking *paper*...

"*Bruce*... *yes*..."

and his head is whipping back and forth...

"*Fuck me*..."

and I frown because I've never heard Clark use *that* phrase before...

"*Christ, Clark*..."

and his hips are lifting and arching and grinding against Bruce...

"*Harder oh God harder harder HARDER*..."

and *dammit* they are not supposed to be liking this *this* much.

I try to reign in my mounting jealousy as Bruce continues to fuck Clark so hard it looks like he's going to break his own back, and Clark is taking it and begging for more in a hoarse, raw voice that I've never heard before and suddenly I'm totally hating this and I want them to stop *now*.

I open my mouth to say so and I can only watch, can only gape at intensity so fierce it's intoxicating, can only stare at the boy I think I might be falling in love with getting expertly *fucked* by the man I used to think I was in love with.

"*Oh God don't stop oh God OH GOD*..."

Can only grab my dick and jerk myself ferociously, incensed that I can actually get off on this, enraged that, even as Clark screams someone else's name, it still arouses me to the point of orgasm.

"*Fuck FUCK*..."

Something like a sob and Bruce collapses on top of Clark, and they're both panting like they've run a 100-yard dash.

Stay entangled together so long that now I'm *convinced* that they've completely forgotten about me.

I clear my throat.

Bruce kisses Clark one last time on the throat before rising and I swear to whatever higher power I'm swearing to these days that if he's not outta here in the next 2 minutes I'm going to kill him.

Clark and I are going to have a little *chat*.

Bruce seems to sense my rising hostility and glides to the door with a very knowing smirk twisting those normally inflexible lips.

My fingers are digging into the arms of the chair and it's all I can do not to inflict serious bodily harm to him when he says, just before closing the door, "Be careful what you wish for."


home          next chapter          fiction gateway