Excelsior Prep: After Lillian died her son returned home to an almost desolate house, a distant father, and more heartache than he'd ever known. In their pain Lionel the two clung to each other, becoming inseparable, but when September rolled around, Lex was sent back to boarding school. This is the story surrounding his second homecoming. Warnings: Lex/Lionel slash, pre-Smallville, some OOC, and AU, and for sappiness.
"So I went from day
to day
Tho my life was in a rut
till I thought of what Id
say
Which connection I should cut
I was feeling part of the
scenery
I walked right out of the machinery
My heart was going
boom, boom, boom
Son, he said, grab your things, I've come to
take you home," Peter Gabriel.
Lex was asleep when his father entered the dorm room. His body lay sprawled across the thin, ancient looking mattress, legs twisted beneath a pale blue sheet, his right arm, wrapped in a white, plaster cast, was straight out on his side. The boy's face had been turned down into a pillow, but also tilted slightly to the left. He seemed thinner than when his father had last spoken to him in person. It was nearly Christmas now, with close to a foot of fresh snow on the ground, but Lex was sleeping in the nude, and everything except for a thin sheet had been kicked off of the bed.
A smooth, well-manicured hand reached out, gently stroking his son's hairless head, as Lionel lowered himself onto the boy's mattress. Noting the unusually warm temperature in his son's room, Luthor removed his jacket, draping it over a nearby chair. He couldn't help but notice that his sleeping son resembled a wounded animal, something small, and frail, and yet despite his constant statements that would suggest otherwise, this wasn't a sign of weakness in the boy's character. Luthor felt something akin to genuine human concern, or at the very least animal nurturing, towards his child.
Seeing the little boy injured so made his own heart ache. Perhaps if he woke the child he wouldn't feel so bad, he thought. Lex was constantly trying to prove himself, always strong, powerful, brave, and awake, he wouldn't look so pitiful. Ever so gently, he nudged the boy's body, pushing on his left (good) shoulder, until the slumbering child awoke. Lex groaned, rolled onto his back, his injured paw landed with a tiny thud, and he hissed in pain, jolted up, opening his eyes. What the fuck are you doing here, he thought, his mind racing, but did not voice the question.
Instead he simply told his father, "hi," and stretched, cautiously. Before, it had been difficult to tell (for certain) if Lex was wearing anything under the sheet, now Lionel was 100 positive that his son was in the nude. "Didn't expect to see you. I mean it is parent's weekend, but you never come here for that. You haven't been to parent's weekend since I was in first grade."
"The date is inconsequential. I received a phone call from your headmaster. I was told that my son had been injured quite seriously. I was concerned, and apparently with good reason. I also have an offer for you. If you would like to come home now, it would be all right with me." The fourteen-year-old stared up at his father in shock. This was what he had been praying for all semester. It was a miracle. This was perfect—unless…
"Is this some kind of a test?" Lex asked, suspiciously. "You're trying to figure out whether or not—I don't know what. Look, Dad, I'm tired, and my arm hurts. Can you just tell me why you're here, so we can take care of it? Then you can go home and I can finish my math homework."
"I can see why you would believe that I might be—this is not a test, Son. What happened to your arm?" Lionel knew the truth, but still needed to hear it from Lex directly. He wanted the boy to confess to him, be honest, but then again considering what they had been through Lionel couldn't help but wonder if the boy would ever trust him again.
"Fell down a flight of stairs," the child lied, poorly. He should be a better liar by now, he does it so often; I'll have to teach him how to do that, Lionel thought to himself.
"I also spoke with the doctor who treated you at the emergency room. Dr. Stevens explained to you that this sort of fracture can only be caused by having your arm wrung like a wet towel, correct?"
"So, somebody twisted my arm. I've been getting the crap beaten out of me since you first sent me to this shit hole. You never came to see me before; why now? And by the way, I went to the hospital three days ago. My arm was broken three days ago. What took you so long?"
"I had to fire Susan—my secretary—last week. The woman the temp agency sent over does an even more miserable job than her predecessor. I haven't gotten any of my phone messages since she started. This morning I found a note scribbled on the back of a business card. Alexander broke his arm. Call school. I made the calls in the chopper on my way over here. I left the instant I found out. It's outside waiting, if you want to come with me."
"Maybe you should start hiring women using your brain, and not your—head," Lex muttered, blushing as he suddenly seemed to notice his lack of clothing. "My pants are in the corner. Can I have them back?"
"Of course, Son. Although you may have difficulty putting them on with only one hand. And I have seen your body before. I am your father, I used to bathe you, and change your diapers. Just relax."
"Boy, you are slick. That can't possible convince anybody to sleep with you, can it? I don't care how stupid or blonde, no one would ever buy that." Lex laughed to himself, nervously. Lionel wondered if maybe he was embarrassed because he wanted his father to do something, no, he thought. Lex is just being a typical 13-year-old. "And when did you ever change a diaper?"
"I know you don't believe me, but I was a good father. Now, would you like my assistance or not?" Lionel pretended to be miffed, even hurt, but it didn't work. Finally, Lex nodded. 'Okay, then. Let's start by…give me a leg. There we go, and the other. Now stand up. I'll take care of the button, and the zipper. There, see, completely unmolested."
"Oh, please. Dad, I wasn't worried about that. I know you'd never force me to do something I didn't want to." Lionel smiled, gently massaging the boy's shoulders, and back.
"Lex, you've been injured. Thanks to the cast, you're left with one arm. Either you can refuse my help and teach yourself to use your non-dominant arm for the next few weeks, or I can assist you, make everything easier, make you more comfortable." Lex nodded, without answering. "How did this happen?" Lionel picked up the boy's arm, holding it carefully between his fingers, and pulled his son' palm to his lips, kissing the exposed areas. "Come on, Pal. You can tell me."
"Why? What difference does it make? If I'm really allowed to go home, then I never hafta come back here again. So, even if somebody did hurt me, they won't be able to do it again." He paused. "Don't worry. It wasn't a teacher, okay," the young Luthor insisted. Then he sat back down beside his father, pressing his face into the older man's white, starched shirt. 'You smell nice."
"You have—issues, with authority figures. I know you wouldn't let one of your teachers give you an A-, let alone hit you, and break your arm, but you are still my child, and someone has hurt you. I can't allow this sort of thing to happen, even if it was just some schoolyard bully." Lex gazed into his father's stormy, dark eyes. He smiled as a large hand slid around his belly, fingers tracing shapes near the pale skin of his navel.
"But you don't get it, Dad. This whole thing was my fault. Well, sort of. Ollie and his Neanderthal buddies wanted me to help them cheat on our chemistry midterm. I said okay and I let them do it, but when I finished, I went up to Mr. Allen, our teacher, and told him that they had been copying off of my test. He's probably gonna have to repeat the class next semester. It's sort of a big deal, especially here."
"Oliver Queen is two years older than you," Lionel stated in amazement. "How are you—why is he in your class?" This situation was strange, and Lex's reaction only made him feel more bizarre. Lex chuckled, but he couldn't help himself, this was funny, despite the pathetic quality of his father's comment. "Would you mind telling me what you find so entertaining, young man?"
"He's not two years behind me; I'm in his grade. Mom signed me up for kindergarten right after my fourth birthday, and last year I got moved up again. So I'm technically a junior year right now."
"I should have known that. I'm sorry I didn't. Here, let's put your shirt on, and I'll help you pack anything you might need over the next few days. We'll send someone to pick up the rest later."
"I never agreed to go with you in the first place," Lex snapped, but didn't pull away from his father's embrace. "Maybe we should go down to the mess hall for dinner, or the pizza place off campus, to discuss this someplace private."
"You want to stay at a school where you are being assaulted on a regular basis? If that Queen boy broke your arm once, what's to stop him from doing it again, or for doing something worse?" His hand drifted lower, falling into Lex's lap. "I suppose I'll need to make more of an effort to convince you to come with me." Lex felt his manhood leaping towards the gentle caress.
"Did you lock the door when you came in?" he asked, shrugging the unbuttoned shirt from his shoulders, turning to press his mouth against Lionel's. Their lips parted, tongues intertwined, the two mouths becoming one, as both cocks sprung to life. Soon they ceased to be father and son, becoming lovers, plain, simple, beautiful, and perfect.
An hour later, the two lay twisted under a single sheet. Lex was curled up similarly to his earlier position, only now his face was pressed into a warm patch of hairy flesh between his father's shoulder blades, above the breastbone. He napped once again, for about half an hour this time. His eyes opened slowly, and he smiled like a child a Christmastime. "Hi Dad," he whispered. Now his father's hand was running up and down his back. "I'm gonna go home with you. Thanks for coming to get me, but—I do have one question. After Mom died, you let me stay at the mansion, and we were really close, for a while. We were happy. I spent all my time with you. We were getting along for the first time since, well, ever. I felt like you really loved me, but then—you kicked me out like I was just some boarder who'd overstayed his welcome, like I didn't mean anything to you!"
"Oh Lex, don't be melodramatic. Is that what you really think of me? Buddy, buddy, buddy. Lex, I care for you—I do. I love you, Son. I love you," Lionel stated plainly.
"But you sent me away. What was I supposed to think? I'm more than a hundred miles away from home, you never visit me. I—miss you so much, and it…feels like I'd been abandoned, again." Lex pulled away, cautiously running a hand over his scalp.
"Would it help if I apologize?" Lionel reached from him, but tried to make his movements appear casual, as if his child's reaction had no effect on him either way. Theoretically, it didn't make any difference what the boy said. He would drag his son back home kicking and screaming, if it came to that but Lex was sensitive, and it would make life much easier if he came willingly. "This is one of the best private schools in the nation, on the planet. I wanted—your mother and I agreed that as much as we would miss you, this is the right place, the best school."
"You've got to be kidding me. I can't stand this hellhole. All the other kids are imbeciles! I don't have any friends. Of all the gifted schools, and fantastic programs in Metropolis, you sent me to—this is not about my education; it's about being able to brag that your son goes to the most prestigious school in the country, or the world, or whatever." The instant Lex finished speaking, his father's arms wrapped around him, tightly, and there were lips pressed to his temple. "Dad…Mmm…. I'm kind of hungry. Can we get some dinner?"
"Lex, I am sorry you felt so badly about my decision to have you return to this institution, but I had no idea you were so distressed, or that you were being—if I had known what those boys were doing to you, I never would have asked you to come back. I'm also sorry for not recognizing your apprehension, but I am not a mind reader, Son. If there is a problem, you need to tell me. Now, did you want to eat here, or go home and have Maria make something?"
"I'm—I uh, I don't know." Lex wasn't sure how to admit that while he was hungry, the only thing he really cared about was whether or not Lionel was going to be with him. After his mother's death, the two became inseparable, but a few months after that, everything fell apart. He felt rejected, hated, dirty, used, depressed, and lost. There had been millions of questions on his mind. Was I bad? Did I do something wrong? Did you just get tired of me? Am I—dirty? Wasn't I a good enough lover? Do you even love me? And now to hear his dad say that none of those things had ever crossed his mind, it was almost too much to handle.
"Come here, that's it. There, there, shh. Okay, okay." Lionel wrapped his arms around his son, gently, and started to dress them both. "Let's go home, Son." Lex hardy spoke on the ride home, but instead sat next to his father, head resting against the older man's shoulder, as though he were asleep. Lionel sat with one arm wrapped around the boy's body, while skimming over some important papers. He had apologized upon entering the helicopter, but Lex seemed ambivalent.
Even at dinner he was uncharacteristically quiet, watching his dad as though he as expecting the man to disappear at any moment. "It's okay, Lex. I'm not going anywhere." The boy put his fork down, wiped his eyes, and stood up, pulling his chair closer to his father. "What is it?"
"I want you to promise me that this is never going to happen again," he said ferociously. Whenever Lillian had become angry her eyes would glow a fiery, electric blue-gray. She was perfect and beautiful even in the midst of the worst argument. At that moment, Lex's face was exactly that of his mother's, especially his eyes. Lionel felt a stab of loss and remorse at the sight, and reached out to stroke the boy's face. "The leaving me thing. I know you can't promise I won't get hurt, but. Please, Dad, I need this."
"One day, I won't have a choice as to whether or not I can—sorry. Lex, look at me. I promise; I'm not going anywhere for a very long time. Now finish your dinner. We've got a big day ahead of us tomorrow."
"Why, you gonna try and find me a new school in another state?" Lex chided, fingers drumming against his leg, nervously. His father laughed, but hugged his son and leaned in to kiss the boy's soft, pink lips.
"I leave for work at 7:00, and if you plan on going with me, you'll need to wake up at the same time that I do, 6:00. Then, we shower, get dressed, and eat breakfast so we can be at the office in tine for an 8:00 am board meeting. Next, I have to make a conference call, and afterwards we'll have the rest of the morning to ourselves. I have a lunch with some potential clients, if you want to tag along, and last but not least I'm interviewing new secretaries. Then, we'll come home, eat dinner, and relax, before we go to bed."
"I can go to work with you? I mean, you'll let me come with? I remember when I was little, I'd it by the bit window in your office, but you never let me go to actual meetings or anything. I really…wow—thanks, Dad."
"So that's a yes, you are coming with me, correct?" Lex nodded, and kissed his father, ignoring the slight taste of butter and chicken inside his mouth. "Things are going to be just fine, now. I promise Lex. Everything will be alright. I love you, and I won't ever abandon you again." This time Lex believed him. This time Lex smiled, and pressed his face into his father's shoulder. "Why don't we go upstairs, hmm?" he asked, taking the boy by the hand, and leading him to his—their—bedroom.