Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Tony Stark/Lex Luthor
Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine.
Notes: Written for the porn battle. Prompt: "He's always watching". But the story got a little away from that.
Summary: Bruce likes to watch. Tony likes the attention. Lex likes control.
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It’s Tony Stark’s turn to host it.
None of them really have enough time to take a night off. Each of them makes enough time.
Back in the prep school, where it began, each of the three was heir to a larger fortune than the rest of the kids there combined. Bruce Wayne ignored it; Tony Stark flaunted it; Lex Luthor shied away.
They never should have become friends. None of them particularly enjoyed the company of the other two. But, after a while, it was the most normal thing they knew.
Bruce accepts a single glass of wine. Lex looks like he’s itching for the drugs he, theoretically, gave up years ago.
Tony grins like a cat. Leans his elbows on the bar top in his kitchen. “To the new year,” he says, raising his glass of something most definitely stronger than wine.
Tony Stark’s boldest memory is of a particular look of Bruce’s – as blank as usual, but something in his eyes feral, predatory, as he watched Lex pin Tony down and fuck him.
Lex Luthor’s boldest memory is of the way Tony sucked him off, one day, merciless and fast. In the aftermath, with Lex panting, trying to recover his control, Tony kissed him once, where his neck met his shoulder.
Bruce Wayne remembers it all. He thinks often, though, of the contrast between Tony’s eager sex appeal and Lex’s calculated precision.
They discuss business matters, for the most part. How their companies did over the last year. Strategies. Rivals. It’s a sparring match as much as a conversation, and it’s foreplay far more than it is either.
There are no rules, to this. None of them are structure-oriented enough to follow them, if there were.
Some friends had to make an effort to keep in touch. With them, it happened almost accidentally. They just were in the same place, every few months. And Lex would kick out his latest girl without fanfare, Tony would smile and make her feel lucky but certain it was over, and Bruce would give his a tender kiss and tell her goodnight.
They’d still be up, early in the morning – maybe the remnants of a necktie hooked through the headboard, a few used condoms in the trash, and one of the two hotel beds utterly untouched.
When they slept, Tony slept in the middle. Always, Tony was in the middle.
Bruce likes to watch. Tony likes the attention. Lex likes control.
So it’s now that Lex follows Tony to the bed. Pushes Tony’s leg out of the way and settles above him, palming his erection.
Tony lets a hissed “oh, yeah” escape and brings Lex up into a kiss.
Bruce, still standing, casually loosens his tie.
After Tony’s parents died, he withdrew from their presence. Lex was helpless, and it infuriated him. Bruce understood, and he took action. That time, it was Lex who watched: Bruce was kissing Tony more than not, Bruce was touching Tony more than not, and they took it slow.
Before then, Tony occasionally thought Bruce was creepy. After then, he never minded Bruce watching.
Before then, Lex thought he was in charge. After then, he never stopped trying to get that back.
Bruce holds Tony’s wrists back, in a grip that might as well have been marble, as Lex’s fingers stroke inside Tony, his tongue grazing over Tony’s nipple.
Tony milks it for all it’s worth, arching back against Bruce’s grip. Rubbing against Bruce’s erection. Because Bruce may not react, but he does feel, and Tony knows how to use that.
They never, ever discuss superheroes.
Lex fucks Tony first, rough and fast, and he’s not satisfied until Tony comes for the first time. Lex looks up to Bruce in a challenge, then. So, when Bruce slides inside Tony, there’s still the burn from Lex, but there’s a cool courtesy in it that Lex didn’t have.
After, Lex and Bruce share a kiss that’s concession, on both sides. A demonstration of equality.
Tony wonders if they’ll have a round three later that night.
It’s only once a year, these days. All they need.
Tony Stark doesn’t know why he still does it.
Lex Luthor still does it because there’s a mystery, one each in Tony and in Bruce, and he can’t let himself rest until he knows what it is.
Bruce Wayne does it because he realizes, as Tony and Lex don’t, that they have more in common than they have differences.
“See you next year,” says Tony, with a wave.
“Yeah,” says Bruce. He gives Tony a nod, curt, as he steps into the limo.
“Until then.” Lex takes Tony’s hand – a handshake, ostensibly, but there’s much, much more to it than that.
This time, as always, each of them wonder how they’ll wait that long. And the next day, they forget why.