COTW 51 part the next
Nov. 2nd, 2005 08:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serafina20Six pages. All that time and all I got out was six pages.
I'm tired of being drained. *sigh*
Daytime television was some of the trashiest stuff Lex had ever seen. And he owned one of the hugest porn collections in Kansas, probably *the* biggest. He had gay porn, straight porn, threesomes, orgies, bondage, transsexuals and transvestites and boys dressed like girls while girls rode them with huge strap-ons, but none of it could hold a candle to daytime television.
"Lex, what on earth are you watching now?" Mabel laughed as she entered the entertainment room.
Without moving his eyes from the TV, Lex pitched his voice to her. "The, uh, Halfway House or Recovery Home or something like that. All these women have these major problems in their lives, so they exploit them so they can get on TV and hash it all out in front of millions of viewers. Fascinating, really." He bunched up the pillow under his chin more and wiggled on the couch to get more comfortable. "I've gone through three talk shows and one court television thing to get to this. Seriously, exploitative daytime TV is where the money is. I should just skip college and go into that."
Mabel snorted. "Like you need money."
"I will once Dad finds out that I'm leaving LuthorCorp for good. I'll have to look for room, board, clothing, someone to feed me, and a cage to hold Dominic hostage in so Damien won't leave. Oh, and, you know, food for him. Jesus, all they ever do here is cry," he said as yet another housemate broke down. "The Kleenex corporation must have put this show together."
"Do you really think Lionel will cut you off?" Mabel asked. The couch dipped near Lex's legs because, God knew, in a room with no less than ten places to sit, two directly adjacent to Lex's position, the only place for Mabel to sit was almost right on top of him.
Lex made a face; he didn't want to talk about serious things right now. For the first time in forever, he was enjoying having nothing to do except laze around. And, more than that, he was enjoying doing nothing while having neither drugs in his system nor Clark pressed against his body.
In fact, having Clark not pressed against him was probably a good thing. Although the pills Clark had given him before he'd left combined with the long, hot bath Lex had taken and Clark's super-healing sperm had done a lot to keep Lex from being too sore both in muscles and in bottom, there was still enough of the residual ache underneath his skin and inside his bottom to let him know that sex today was probably not what he should do. Not even a blow job or nice round of frottage; one orgasm would clench all his muscles and who knew if the post-coital bliss would be enough to unknot them again.
The point was, though, today was all about frivolity and relaxation. He never did this. He'd never been taught how to do this and he didn't want to spend his day of trashy TV and vitamin-insufficient, calorie-filled food to be interrupted by unpleasant talk.
"Probably," he answered as distantly as he could manage. He grabbed a homemade French fry from the tray Mabel had brought in an hour or so ago.
"Why?"
"Because it usually works. I go against what he wants for me, he cuts me off financially, I try to hold out for awhile and usually get myself into a hell of a lot of trouble, and Dad swoops in to rescue me. If that doesn't work, then he goes after my friends. Well, until I came here, the people who pretended to be my friends, at any rate." He shook his head and grabbed another fry, idly wondering exactly how many calories there were in one. It was a day off, sure, but he didn't want the consequence to be love-handles he had a hard time getting rid of.
Maybe he should stop eating. He set the fry down.
"Oh, for God's sake, Lex, you weigh as much as a feather, just eat the darn thing," Mabel said in exasperation.
Lex looked at her. "What do you mean?"
"I mean would you please take more than five bites of everything I've brought for you? You barely ate half your breakfast, and now you're nibbling your lunch. Just because you're ordering junk food doesn't mean you should eat any less of it."
He thought about saying something, but it was just easier to eat the fry. "Anyway, even if he does cut me off this time, I'm not going back to work for LuthorCorp. If I ever decide to go into business, it's going to be because I want to."
"Good. I'm glad to hear you say that. That man is no good to you and you run yourself too hard trying to do everything."
"And, again, I do worse when I'm in school." He shook his head. "But at least then, I'm happy."
"And that's what matters."
She put her hand on his leg, causing him to flinch so violently, he almost fell off the couch.
"Lex!" she exclaimed.
His face heated as he pushed himself back up. "I'm fine," he said, sitting up and pulling his legs underneath him. His back was aching from the awkward position he'd fallen.
"You haven't done that in awhile," Mabel said, gazing at him.
Lex shrugged and rose from the couch. "It's nothing."
"Is it?"
"Look, this is my day off, my day to relax and not worry about anything. I don't want to have to worry about this, all right?"
"All right. But..."
The door opened and Anne walked in, interrupting Mabel and disrupting the tension somewhat. But not much.
"Hi," Anne said, smiling at the two of them. "Damien's home. He's resting, but said he wants to see you."
Lex stood and smiled. "Ah, summoned, I see. How quickly the master becomes the servant."
"Don't ever try cooking for me, Lex," Mabel said dryly. "I heard what happened the time you tried to bake brownies. And you hardly seem able to microwave."
He rolled his eyes at her and left for Damien's room.
As usual, he entered through Damien's office. Generally, it was obsessively neat,; even when Damien was in the middle of work and in the room, it looked empty. He made everything look so damn easy, Lex mused as he ran his fingers over the desk. Well, generally, Damien made everything look easy; it was nice to know that when he was being poisoned, he was just as susceptible to entropy. There were papers strewn across the desk, Damien's shoes were on the floor, there was a tie on the couch, and a few cabinets and drawers were askew.
Lex closed everything after assuring himself that nothing valuable had been taken. Then he went through Damien's living room and knocked on the door of his bedroom. "Damien? Dom?"
"Come in, Lex."
Damien was lying on top of his bed, propped up on pillows. He was dressed in his pajamas and looked tired, but, other than that, it was almost impossible to tell that just a day ago he'd been in an unexplained coma.
"You look good," Lex said. He stood at the foot of the bed, allowing his legs to rest against it.
"Thank you. I feel much better."
"I'm glad. I'm..."
"If you say sorry, I'll be forced to throw a pillow at you," Damien said with a crooked smile. "This was not your fault. I already have to deal with Dominic; I want no more unfounded self-recrimination in this room."
Lex mock saluted him. "Yes, sir." He moved, crossing the room so he could pull a chair closer to the bed. "Anne said you wanted to see me?"
"Yes, I did. And not simply to make sure that you haven't changed your mind and decided to return to your father's business."
"No." He flopped into the chair, bottom immediately protesting the hard landing even in the soft chair. "I am as determined as ever to break away from my father's oppressive grasp. In fact, I've been nothing but slothful all day today, simply lolling around allowing my mind to be rotted away by daytime television."
"Oh, dear God," Damien moaned. He buried his face in his hands. "Please, please, I beg of you, do not watch again tomorrow."
"Why not?"
Damien dropped his hands. "Because I know you, sir."
"What, you think I'm going to become addicted or something? Or do something really stupid, like..."
"Decide to try and create your own daytime television program? Yes, I do," Damien said succinctly. "And I have another project for you already to keep you occupied."
Lex frowned, a little stung. "I'm not a child. I don't need to be kept busy, you know."
"Of course not. And what idea for a show do you have?"
He crossed his arms over his chest. "Nothing."
"Please, don't insult my intelligence."
"Well, right now it all revolves around Lana, actually," Lex said, smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "But, basically, it's about teenage girls who had life-altering tragic events happen to them early in their lives that they just can't get over. We'll follow them around with a camera, give them life-coaches or whatever they're called, and, you know. Help them get better while exploiting them within every inch of their lives. What do you think?"
"I think it may already be too late," Damien said with a sigh.
The door to the bathroom opened. "Um, Damien? I don't want to accuse him of anything, but... Lex. I didn't know you were here." Dominic stopped just outside of the bathroom, leaning heavily against his cane.
"It's my house, actually. And my car was in the garage, did you miss it?"
"I didn't have time to count and make sure they were all there," he said dryly.
"What is it, Dominic?" Damien asked.
Dominic turned to Damien, then shot an uncertain look at Lex. "Ah, it's... I'm sure I'm simply being overcautious, but..."
"Dominic?"
He sighed. "There's a bottle of pills missing from the shelf where you keep Lex's medications."
"I didn't take anything," Lex protested, rising. His heart started pounding because he was innocent and after the past few days, he really didn't want anyone to think he'd been doing drugs again.
Especially the Kents.
He *really* didn't want to be grounded again.
"Are you sure, Dominic?" Damien asked. "Thing may have been moved around when Anne was in there the other day."
"It's not moved, it's gone."
"I didn't take *anything*," Lex insisted angrily. "I haven't even been in here. It wasn't me."
"Did Clark come over last night?" Damien was acting like they were all having a simple conversation. He didn't sound concerned at all.
Lex nodded, glaring at Dominic. "Yeah. He might have taken the bottle. He came in to get me something because I was sore."
"So you did take something," Dominic pointed out.
Lex was about to snap at him, when Damien said, "Clark has the bottle, then. There wasn't one in there with a note, was there, Dominic?"
"A note?"
"I left a note on the bottle of pain medication that I allow Lex to take when he truly has need. I'm tired of waking up when... Clark attempts to sneak in here. I trust the boy, and I know he's as concerned about Lex's drug use as I. I decided he could keep the bottle and administer to Lex when needed."
"I see." Dominic turned to Lex. "I'm sorry."
Lex wanted to say something haughty to let his wounded pride show, but, truth was, Dominic was right; he was hardly trustworthy. Instead, he sat back down and crossed his arms tightly over his chest and said, "You said something about a project, Damien?"
"Dom?"
Dominic, looking hurt that Lex hadn't acknowledged his apology, slowly limped across the room to his briefcase.
"Dominic, why don't you sit?" Lex offered, standing and gesturing to his chair. "I wasn't hit by a car."
"No, you were hit by a teenage boy."
Damien snorted.
"I'm fine, Lex." Dominic picked up the suitcase and carried it back to the bed. "As you know, Damien has bought the farmhouse outside of town and, after everything Lionel has done to all of us, wants you to move there."
"Uh-huh."
"We'd rather not be anywhere near you and Clark while the two of you are together. Or, at least, when you're being intimate. And farmhouses have notoriously thin walls," Dominic continued. He opened the briefcase. "I remembered that when you were younger you became obsessed with architecture."
His ears warmed. "I wasn't obsessed."
"You were the only lover I've ever had who had the Notre Dame Cathedral built in Legos, toothpicks, popsicle sticks and drawn floorplans both by hand *and* on some pathetic computer paint program. And that was just one building." He put his hand on Lex's shoulder. "You must understand, Lex, that normal people don't build entire cities in their bedrooms and take to sleeping in the parlor so they don't accidentally roll over and crush their work."
"So I've heard," Lex said, taking a paper from the briefcase. "So, what? You want me to redesign the farmhouse?"
"Nothing too drastic," Damien replied. "But you might find a way to give us all the privacy we're accustomed to. And there is a lot of land, so if you want to build an addition or so, you can."
Lex studied the compressed floorplan, mind already abuzz with possibilities. "You know," he said after a moment. "I've always wanted to try out some of that architectural software."
Next to him, Dominic sighed, but Lex barely noticed. He had a new puzzle to play with.
* * *
In other news, I'm being sodimized by my health insurance. And not the good kind of sodomy, either.
I'm tired of being drained. *sigh*
Daytime television was some of the trashiest stuff Lex had ever seen. And he owned one of the hugest porn collections in Kansas, probably *the* biggest. He had gay porn, straight porn, threesomes, orgies, bondage, transsexuals and transvestites and boys dressed like girls while girls rode them with huge strap-ons, but none of it could hold a candle to daytime television.
"Lex, what on earth are you watching now?" Mabel laughed as she entered the entertainment room.
Without moving his eyes from the TV, Lex pitched his voice to her. "The, uh, Halfway House or Recovery Home or something like that. All these women have these major problems in their lives, so they exploit them so they can get on TV and hash it all out in front of millions of viewers. Fascinating, really." He bunched up the pillow under his chin more and wiggled on the couch to get more comfortable. "I've gone through three talk shows and one court television thing to get to this. Seriously, exploitative daytime TV is where the money is. I should just skip college and go into that."
Mabel snorted. "Like you need money."
"I will once Dad finds out that I'm leaving LuthorCorp for good. I'll have to look for room, board, clothing, someone to feed me, and a cage to hold Dominic hostage in so Damien won't leave. Oh, and, you know, food for him. Jesus, all they ever do here is cry," he said as yet another housemate broke down. "The Kleenex corporation must have put this show together."
"Do you really think Lionel will cut you off?" Mabel asked. The couch dipped near Lex's legs because, God knew, in a room with no less than ten places to sit, two directly adjacent to Lex's position, the only place for Mabel to sit was almost right on top of him.
Lex made a face; he didn't want to talk about serious things right now. For the first time in forever, he was enjoying having nothing to do except laze around. And, more than that, he was enjoying doing nothing while having neither drugs in his system nor Clark pressed against his body.
In fact, having Clark not pressed against him was probably a good thing. Although the pills Clark had given him before he'd left combined with the long, hot bath Lex had taken and Clark's super-healing sperm had done a lot to keep Lex from being too sore both in muscles and in bottom, there was still enough of the residual ache underneath his skin and inside his bottom to let him know that sex today was probably not what he should do. Not even a blow job or nice round of frottage; one orgasm would clench all his muscles and who knew if the post-coital bliss would be enough to unknot them again.
The point was, though, today was all about frivolity and relaxation. He never did this. He'd never been taught how to do this and he didn't want to spend his day of trashy TV and vitamin-insufficient, calorie-filled food to be interrupted by unpleasant talk.
"Probably," he answered as distantly as he could manage. He grabbed a homemade French fry from the tray Mabel had brought in an hour or so ago.
"Why?"
"Because it usually works. I go against what he wants for me, he cuts me off financially, I try to hold out for awhile and usually get myself into a hell of a lot of trouble, and Dad swoops in to rescue me. If that doesn't work, then he goes after my friends. Well, until I came here, the people who pretended to be my friends, at any rate." He shook his head and grabbed another fry, idly wondering exactly how many calories there were in one. It was a day off, sure, but he didn't want the consequence to be love-handles he had a hard time getting rid of.
Maybe he should stop eating. He set the fry down.
"Oh, for God's sake, Lex, you weigh as much as a feather, just eat the darn thing," Mabel said in exasperation.
Lex looked at her. "What do you mean?"
"I mean would you please take more than five bites of everything I've brought for you? You barely ate half your breakfast, and now you're nibbling your lunch. Just because you're ordering junk food doesn't mean you should eat any less of it."
He thought about saying something, but it was just easier to eat the fry. "Anyway, even if he does cut me off this time, I'm not going back to work for LuthorCorp. If I ever decide to go into business, it's going to be because I want to."
"Good. I'm glad to hear you say that. That man is no good to you and you run yourself too hard trying to do everything."
"And, again, I do worse when I'm in school." He shook his head. "But at least then, I'm happy."
"And that's what matters."
She put her hand on his leg, causing him to flinch so violently, he almost fell off the couch.
"Lex!" she exclaimed.
His face heated as he pushed himself back up. "I'm fine," he said, sitting up and pulling his legs underneath him. His back was aching from the awkward position he'd fallen.
"You haven't done that in awhile," Mabel said, gazing at him.
Lex shrugged and rose from the couch. "It's nothing."
"Is it?"
"Look, this is my day off, my day to relax and not worry about anything. I don't want to have to worry about this, all right?"
"All right. But..."
The door opened and Anne walked in, interrupting Mabel and disrupting the tension somewhat. But not much.
"Hi," Anne said, smiling at the two of them. "Damien's home. He's resting, but said he wants to see you."
Lex stood and smiled. "Ah, summoned, I see. How quickly the master becomes the servant."
"Don't ever try cooking for me, Lex," Mabel said dryly. "I heard what happened the time you tried to bake brownies. And you hardly seem able to microwave."
He rolled his eyes at her and left for Damien's room.
As usual, he entered through Damien's office. Generally, it was obsessively neat,; even when Damien was in the middle of work and in the room, it looked empty. He made everything look so damn easy, Lex mused as he ran his fingers over the desk. Well, generally, Damien made everything look easy; it was nice to know that when he was being poisoned, he was just as susceptible to entropy. There were papers strewn across the desk, Damien's shoes were on the floor, there was a tie on the couch, and a few cabinets and drawers were askew.
Lex closed everything after assuring himself that nothing valuable had been taken. Then he went through Damien's living room and knocked on the door of his bedroom. "Damien? Dom?"
"Come in, Lex."
Damien was lying on top of his bed, propped up on pillows. He was dressed in his pajamas and looked tired, but, other than that, it was almost impossible to tell that just a day ago he'd been in an unexplained coma.
"You look good," Lex said. He stood at the foot of the bed, allowing his legs to rest against it.
"Thank you. I feel much better."
"I'm glad. I'm..."
"If you say sorry, I'll be forced to throw a pillow at you," Damien said with a crooked smile. "This was not your fault. I already have to deal with Dominic; I want no more unfounded self-recrimination in this room."
Lex mock saluted him. "Yes, sir." He moved, crossing the room so he could pull a chair closer to the bed. "Anne said you wanted to see me?"
"Yes, I did. And not simply to make sure that you haven't changed your mind and decided to return to your father's business."
"No." He flopped into the chair, bottom immediately protesting the hard landing even in the soft chair. "I am as determined as ever to break away from my father's oppressive grasp. In fact, I've been nothing but slothful all day today, simply lolling around allowing my mind to be rotted away by daytime television."
"Oh, dear God," Damien moaned. He buried his face in his hands. "Please, please, I beg of you, do not watch again tomorrow."
"Why not?"
Damien dropped his hands. "Because I know you, sir."
"What, you think I'm going to become addicted or something? Or do something really stupid, like..."
"Decide to try and create your own daytime television program? Yes, I do," Damien said succinctly. "And I have another project for you already to keep you occupied."
Lex frowned, a little stung. "I'm not a child. I don't need to be kept busy, you know."
"Of course not. And what idea for a show do you have?"
He crossed his arms over his chest. "Nothing."
"Please, don't insult my intelligence."
"Well, right now it all revolves around Lana, actually," Lex said, smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "But, basically, it's about teenage girls who had life-altering tragic events happen to them early in their lives that they just can't get over. We'll follow them around with a camera, give them life-coaches or whatever they're called, and, you know. Help them get better while exploiting them within every inch of their lives. What do you think?"
"I think it may already be too late," Damien said with a sigh.
The door to the bathroom opened. "Um, Damien? I don't want to accuse him of anything, but... Lex. I didn't know you were here." Dominic stopped just outside of the bathroom, leaning heavily against his cane.
"It's my house, actually. And my car was in the garage, did you miss it?"
"I didn't have time to count and make sure they were all there," he said dryly.
"What is it, Dominic?" Damien asked.
Dominic turned to Damien, then shot an uncertain look at Lex. "Ah, it's... I'm sure I'm simply being overcautious, but..."
"Dominic?"
He sighed. "There's a bottle of pills missing from the shelf where you keep Lex's medications."
"I didn't take anything," Lex protested, rising. His heart started pounding because he was innocent and after the past few days, he really didn't want anyone to think he'd been doing drugs again.
Especially the Kents.
He *really* didn't want to be grounded again.
"Are you sure, Dominic?" Damien asked. "Thing may have been moved around when Anne was in there the other day."
"It's not moved, it's gone."
"I didn't take *anything*," Lex insisted angrily. "I haven't even been in here. It wasn't me."
"Did Clark come over last night?" Damien was acting like they were all having a simple conversation. He didn't sound concerned at all.
Lex nodded, glaring at Dominic. "Yeah. He might have taken the bottle. He came in to get me something because I was sore."
"So you did take something," Dominic pointed out.
Lex was about to snap at him, when Damien said, "Clark has the bottle, then. There wasn't one in there with a note, was there, Dominic?"
"A note?"
"I left a note on the bottle of pain medication that I allow Lex to take when he truly has need. I'm tired of waking up when... Clark attempts to sneak in here. I trust the boy, and I know he's as concerned about Lex's drug use as I. I decided he could keep the bottle and administer to Lex when needed."
"I see." Dominic turned to Lex. "I'm sorry."
Lex wanted to say something haughty to let his wounded pride show, but, truth was, Dominic was right; he was hardly trustworthy. Instead, he sat back down and crossed his arms tightly over his chest and said, "You said something about a project, Damien?"
"Dom?"
Dominic, looking hurt that Lex hadn't acknowledged his apology, slowly limped across the room to his briefcase.
"Dominic, why don't you sit?" Lex offered, standing and gesturing to his chair. "I wasn't hit by a car."
"No, you were hit by a teenage boy."
Damien snorted.
"I'm fine, Lex." Dominic picked up the suitcase and carried it back to the bed. "As you know, Damien has bought the farmhouse outside of town and, after everything Lionel has done to all of us, wants you to move there."
"Uh-huh."
"We'd rather not be anywhere near you and Clark while the two of you are together. Or, at least, when you're being intimate. And farmhouses have notoriously thin walls," Dominic continued. He opened the briefcase. "I remembered that when you were younger you became obsessed with architecture."
His ears warmed. "I wasn't obsessed."
"You were the only lover I've ever had who had the Notre Dame Cathedral built in Legos, toothpicks, popsicle sticks and drawn floorplans both by hand *and* on some pathetic computer paint program. And that was just one building." He put his hand on Lex's shoulder. "You must understand, Lex, that normal people don't build entire cities in their bedrooms and take to sleeping in the parlor so they don't accidentally roll over and crush their work."
"So I've heard," Lex said, taking a paper from the briefcase. "So, what? You want me to redesign the farmhouse?"
"Nothing too drastic," Damien replied. "But you might find a way to give us all the privacy we're accustomed to. And there is a lot of land, so if you want to build an addition or so, you can."
Lex studied the compressed floorplan, mind already abuzz with possibilities. "You know," he said after a moment. "I've always wanted to try out some of that architectural software."
Next to him, Dominic sighed, but Lex barely noticed. He had a new puzzle to play with.
* * *
In other news, I'm being sodimized by my health insurance. And not the good kind of sodomy, either.
