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thete1 proposed the Lord King Bad Fanfic Challenge. It's really more about shamelessness than bad writing. I don't have much shame to begin with (*snicker* *snicker* *bahahaha*) but one thing I tend to be ashamed of is utterly gratuitous porn with absolutely no plot nor even a scrap of canon justification.
Henceforth:
Title: In My Sky
Fandom: DC Comics
Pairing: Superman/Robin (Clark/Dick)
Rating:GratuitousNC-17
Thanks to:maelithil and petronelle for audiencing and cheering
Disclaimer: They're not mine. I just like giving them chances to do things like this.
Title from: Pablo Neruda's "In My Sky at Twilight"
"Thanks for the lift," Dick says, and laughs so infectiously that Clark can't help but laugh as well. He has Dick tucked against his side, and they're flying steadily above the lower cloud layers; it's some of his favorite flying conditions, a warm blue sky three shades lighter than evening. Clark probably doesn't need to hold onto Dick, considering how tight his legs are around Clark's waist, but it's pleasant to curve his hands around his back.
Besides, considering his guardian, Dick can probably use the hug.
"And, thank you for the assist," Dick says in a firmer voice, Robin's voice. "Not that we couldn't've handled Dr. Light on our own, of course."
"Of course," Clark agrees. Some stories are a bit too grim for teenagers, even teenage superheroes.
"What brought you to our neck of the woods, anyway?" Now Dick's voice is a boy's again, curious and cheerful.
Clark smiles at him, at his hair blowing back from his forehead and his unshadowed blue eyes. "A story, actually."
"So I'm taking you out of your way?"
"I needed a break." Clark smiles wider, in hopes of winning a patented Robin grin--- and there it is. But it's a little changed. Dick's really not a child anymore. The legs around Clark's waist are longer and sleeker than the last time he gave Robin a lift; the features under the mask are more defined.
But the blue eyes are the same. "What kind of break?" Dick shifts a little.
"A visit with an old friend," Clark says with a grin.
That's a distinctly different grin in return. "How old?" Dick asks, and that's not a shift. It's a wriggle.
Clark blinks. "Dick?"
Dick chuckles, just in his throat, but Clark can, of course, hear it. And he can feel Dick's hand tighten on his cape where it attaches to the collar. "You saved pretty much all my teammates' lives today, you know." That smile isn't, thank Goodness, hero-worship. It's far too sly and teasing, as Dick pulls himself over and kisses Clark right on the mouth.
And stays there.
Clark is startled enough that his grip tightens reflexively, but he manages not to mash the air out of the beautiful boy kissing him. He doesn't succeed in not kissing back, and Dick tastes human and male and sweet.
Then he breathes in through his nose and reins himself in a little; he's slowed almost before he realized it, and the wind brushes through Dick's hair the way his fingers itch to. "Is that why you're kissing me?"
Dick laughs, bright and cheerful. Clark feels himself coming to a stop, suspended beneath an expanse of clear blue reflected in Dick's eyes. "Of course not. I'm kissing you because you're gorgeous, and you're good, and you've been my friend since I was a kid."
This time Dick gets his tongue into Clark's mouth.
If Dick weren't Bruce's protege Clark might think this was a whim. But though he's bright and cheerful and perhaps impulsive, he's not whimsical; the way he's kissing Clark has no hesitation to it, no second thoughts. Clark holds Dick loosely and doesn't shift him, and his patience is rewarded by the feel of Dick climbing across him to wrap his arms round Clark's neck and press against his front.
The sunlight isn't brighter than the smile Dick gives him with kiss-reddened lips, and it isn't warmer than the limbs wrapped around him. "I thought you'd taste like that," Dick says, and it isn't necessary to hold him with one hand on the small of his back, but Clark does.
It is necessary to trace Dick's lips with two fingers, till Dick turns his head and nibbles them. "How do I taste?"
"Like sunshine and strength," Dick says, and Clark's fingers sink into his hair, and they're kissing again.
He's beginning to want Dick out of his suit. He's been wanting Dick out of his suit. His fingers slide under the hem of Dick's tunic, and there's warm skin just a few layers of armor and cloth away. But---
Dick wriggles against him, a grinding little dance, and pulls one hand down to tug at his shorts, and stops. "Um." He laughs over Clark's mouth, and only the knowledge that he must have something to say keeps Clark from sucking on Dick's lips. Or that tempting arch of throat. "Ah. If I take off my shorts I don't think I can hold them."
"We can land. If you want. I--"
Dick shakes his head, and grins, and kisses Clark quickly. "Just don't let me drop them, ok?" he says, and Clark can--- almost before Clark feels him, pressing hotter against his stomach, he can smell him when he opens the shorts. He smells mouthwatering.
Dick makes a delicious little surprised sound when Clark pulls him up, but there's no way he could resist. He sucks Dick as hard as he dares, as softly as he can make himself, and Dick curls around his head with an unpainful cry, and another, and another. Dick clutches his cape, and then his hair, and Dick can't tug on it hard enough to hurt, even when he screams "oh, Clark, oh God oh God oh Clark," as Clark swallows around him and he comes.
Dick trembles, warm and damp-skinned, against Clark's cheek, and laughs breathlessly, and again when Clark licks him. He wants to lick him all over, savor the different tastes of him, keep him here for hours. He wants to be in a soft bed with Dick, deep within him with his sleek legs wrapped tight around him. He wants---
---to not have Bruce Kryptonite him, really.
"Mmm, Clark." Dick climbs down him and takes his face in both hands and kisses him, thoroughly. "Mmm. What do you want for your turn?"
To feel your pleasure again, Clark thinks, and doesn't say. "That's not necessary--" he tries to say, but he's stopped by the flare of a pout across Dick's face, and then an incredibly bright grin. "Oh no, I'm not letting you get away that easy." Dick tucks his cheek against Clark's, voice soft and warm in his ear, and Clark can feel a few faint prickles over smooth skin and can see nothing but quilted clouds below them and finds himself shuddering desirously. "Come on. What do you want to do to me? Do you want to fuck me, up here in the sky? Do you want me to suck you off? I can hold my breath really well."
Dick pulls back to look at Clark's face, waggling his eyebrows, and Clark wants to laugh and yes, wants to fuck him, and settles for kissing him. Again and again, over his cheeks and throat, his pulse and ears and hairline, until Dick shudders and whimpers a little, and he's hard again. "Really, really, I owe you one," Dick sighs brokenly. "I-- I--"
Clark realizes he's dragged off Dick's shorts when he feels them denting in his hand and forces himself not to crush them. It will not help to bring him home with half his uniform missing, especially the lower half.
"Hold onto these, " Clark murmurs against Dick's belly button before licking it, as he presses his shorts into his hand.
"I'll -- oooh --- I'll try,." Dick whimpers, half laughing, sucking in his breath as Clark nuzzles downward. He'd meant to do this differently, and he doesn't want Dick to be sore, but he can't resist. Clark licks his sac till he twists between Clark's hands, till his fingers tangle in Clark's hair as he gasps, "oh fuck," and "Clark" and "oh, oh my fucking God," and licks his cock till his whimpers turn to staccato cries.
And it's not really fair, while Dick is still breathless from a second orgasm, almost limp in Clark's hands, to lick behind his balls and kiss each firm rounded cheek and nuzzle between them. But he's irresistible, in the way he tastes and the way he writhes and the firm sleek feel of him as he jerks and curses joyfully and bucks against Clark's mouth.
He sounds surprised, if anything, when he comes the third time. It may be because Clark succumbs to the temptation to grasp all he can have, to fuck Dick with his tongue till he tastes the rise of his pulse and the flickers of pleasure along his nerves.. Then again, it may just be the number.
Clark kisses the fine inner skin of Dick's thigh and breathes against it till Dick stops trembling, till he disentangles his fingers from Clark's hair and waves his shorts with vague purpose. "Wow. I--- wow. I. I owe you three, don't I?"
"It was my pleasure being able to share this with you." Clark licks beaded sweat from Dick's forehead and kisses his temples gently.
Dick laughs. He sounds winded, and purely happy. "Man. I think I'm going to need your help getting these back on." He grins, his eyes heavy-lidded, and Clark kisses his mouth gently too. He wants to lick his ears and the rising bruises on his arms and calves, but he contents himself with folding his arms around Dick as he pulls his shorts back on and wraps his arms around Clark's neck.
Clark resumes flying, the taste of Dick rich and sweet in his mouth, and Dick breathes drowsily against his shoulder and hangs onto him. It's not till they're skimming the Appalachians that Dick stirs again and says, "I mean it, you know. I want to see you again."
"Dick---" and here's where Clark should gently impress upon him the loss it would be to the world were Bruce given reason to kill him.
Dick just smiles at him, glowing pink and blue-eyed and beautiful. "Next week I have a four-day weekend. I'm supposed to take time off and go be a teenager. I think I'll come to Metropolis, for some of it."
"I'll find you," Clark says, against his better judgment, and basks in that smile.
Title From:
In My Sky At Twilight
In my sky at twilight you are like a cloud
and your form and colour are the way I love them.
You are mine, mine, woman with sweet lips
and in your life my infinite dreams live.
The lamp of my soul dyes your feet,
the sour wine is sweeter on your lips,
oh reaper of my evening song,
how solitary dreams believe you to be mine!
You are mine, mine, I go shouting it to the afternoon's
wind, and the wind hauls on my widowed voice.
Huntress of the depth of my eyes, your plunder
stills your nocturnal regard as though it were water.
You are taken in the net of my music, my love,
and my nets of music are wide as the sky.
My soul is born on the shore of your eyes of mourning.
In your eyes of mourning the land of dreams begin.
Pablo Neruda
dc_flashfiction thete1 proposed the Lord King Bad Fanfic Challenge. It's really more about shamelessness than bad writing. I don't have much shame to begin with (*snicker* *snicker* *bahahaha*) but one thing I tend to be ashamed of is utterly gratuitous porn with absolutely no plot nor even a scrap of canon justification. Henceforth:
Title: In My Sky
Fandom: DC Comics
Pairing: Superman/Robin (Clark/Dick)
Rating:
Thanks to:
maelithil and petronelle for audiencing and cheeringDisclaimer: They're not mine. I just like giving them chances to do things like this.
Title from: Pablo Neruda's "In My Sky at Twilight"
"Thanks for the lift," Dick says, and laughs so infectiously that Clark can't help but laugh as well. He has Dick tucked against his side, and they're flying steadily above the lower cloud layers; it's some of his favorite flying conditions, a warm blue sky three shades lighter than evening. Clark probably doesn't need to hold onto Dick, considering how tight his legs are around Clark's waist, but it's pleasant to curve his hands around his back.
Besides, considering his guardian, Dick can probably use the hug.
"And, thank you for the assist," Dick says in a firmer voice, Robin's voice. "Not that we couldn't've handled Dr. Light on our own, of course."
"Of course," Clark agrees. Some stories are a bit too grim for teenagers, even teenage superheroes.
"What brought you to our neck of the woods, anyway?" Now Dick's voice is a boy's again, curious and cheerful.
Clark smiles at him, at his hair blowing back from his forehead and his unshadowed blue eyes. "A story, actually."
"So I'm taking you out of your way?"
"I needed a break." Clark smiles wider, in hopes of winning a patented Robin grin--- and there it is. But it's a little changed. Dick's really not a child anymore. The legs around Clark's waist are longer and sleeker than the last time he gave Robin a lift; the features under the mask are more defined.
But the blue eyes are the same. "What kind of break?" Dick shifts a little.
"A visit with an old friend," Clark says with a grin.
That's a distinctly different grin in return. "How old?" Dick asks, and that's not a shift. It's a wriggle.
Clark blinks. "Dick?"
Dick chuckles, just in his throat, but Clark can, of course, hear it. And he can feel Dick's hand tighten on his cape where it attaches to the collar. "You saved pretty much all my teammates' lives today, you know." That smile isn't, thank Goodness, hero-worship. It's far too sly and teasing, as Dick pulls himself over and kisses Clark right on the mouth.
And stays there.
Clark is startled enough that his grip tightens reflexively, but he manages not to mash the air out of the beautiful boy kissing him. He doesn't succeed in not kissing back, and Dick tastes human and male and sweet.
Then he breathes in through his nose and reins himself in a little; he's slowed almost before he realized it, and the wind brushes through Dick's hair the way his fingers itch to. "Is that why you're kissing me?"
Dick laughs, bright and cheerful. Clark feels himself coming to a stop, suspended beneath an expanse of clear blue reflected in Dick's eyes. "Of course not. I'm kissing you because you're gorgeous, and you're good, and you've been my friend since I was a kid."
This time Dick gets his tongue into Clark's mouth.
If Dick weren't Bruce's protege Clark might think this was a whim. But though he's bright and cheerful and perhaps impulsive, he's not whimsical; the way he's kissing Clark has no hesitation to it, no second thoughts. Clark holds Dick loosely and doesn't shift him, and his patience is rewarded by the feel of Dick climbing across him to wrap his arms round Clark's neck and press against his front.
The sunlight isn't brighter than the smile Dick gives him with kiss-reddened lips, and it isn't warmer than the limbs wrapped around him. "I thought you'd taste like that," Dick says, and it isn't necessary to hold him with one hand on the small of his back, but Clark does.
It is necessary to trace Dick's lips with two fingers, till Dick turns his head and nibbles them. "How do I taste?"
"Like sunshine and strength," Dick says, and Clark's fingers sink into his hair, and they're kissing again.
He's beginning to want Dick out of his suit. He's been wanting Dick out of his suit. His fingers slide under the hem of Dick's tunic, and there's warm skin just a few layers of armor and cloth away. But---
Dick wriggles against him, a grinding little dance, and pulls one hand down to tug at his shorts, and stops. "Um." He laughs over Clark's mouth, and only the knowledge that he must have something to say keeps Clark from sucking on Dick's lips. Or that tempting arch of throat. "Ah. If I take off my shorts I don't think I can hold them."
"We can land. If you want. I--"
Dick shakes his head, and grins, and kisses Clark quickly. "Just don't let me drop them, ok?" he says, and Clark can--- almost before Clark feels him, pressing hotter against his stomach, he can smell him when he opens the shorts. He smells mouthwatering.
Dick makes a delicious little surprised sound when Clark pulls him up, but there's no way he could resist. He sucks Dick as hard as he dares, as softly as he can make himself, and Dick curls around his head with an unpainful cry, and another, and another. Dick clutches his cape, and then his hair, and Dick can't tug on it hard enough to hurt, even when he screams "oh, Clark, oh God oh God oh Clark," as Clark swallows around him and he comes.
Dick trembles, warm and damp-skinned, against Clark's cheek, and laughs breathlessly, and again when Clark licks him. He wants to lick him all over, savor the different tastes of him, keep him here for hours. He wants to be in a soft bed with Dick, deep within him with his sleek legs wrapped tight around him. He wants---
---to not have Bruce Kryptonite him, really.
"Mmm, Clark." Dick climbs down him and takes his face in both hands and kisses him, thoroughly. "Mmm. What do you want for your turn?"
To feel your pleasure again, Clark thinks, and doesn't say. "That's not necessary--" he tries to say, but he's stopped by the flare of a pout across Dick's face, and then an incredibly bright grin. "Oh no, I'm not letting you get away that easy." Dick tucks his cheek against Clark's, voice soft and warm in his ear, and Clark can feel a few faint prickles over smooth skin and can see nothing but quilted clouds below them and finds himself shuddering desirously. "Come on. What do you want to do to me? Do you want to fuck me, up here in the sky? Do you want me to suck you off? I can hold my breath really well."
Dick pulls back to look at Clark's face, waggling his eyebrows, and Clark wants to laugh and yes, wants to fuck him, and settles for kissing him. Again and again, over his cheeks and throat, his pulse and ears and hairline, until Dick shudders and whimpers a little, and he's hard again. "Really, really, I owe you one," Dick sighs brokenly. "I-- I--"
Clark realizes he's dragged off Dick's shorts when he feels them denting in his hand and forces himself not to crush them. It will not help to bring him home with half his uniform missing, especially the lower half.
"Hold onto these, " Clark murmurs against Dick's belly button before licking it, as he presses his shorts into his hand.
"I'll -- oooh --- I'll try,." Dick whimpers, half laughing, sucking in his breath as Clark nuzzles downward. He'd meant to do this differently, and he doesn't want Dick to be sore, but he can't resist. Clark licks his sac till he twists between Clark's hands, till his fingers tangle in Clark's hair as he gasps, "oh fuck," and "Clark" and "oh, oh my fucking God," and licks his cock till his whimpers turn to staccato cries.
And it's not really fair, while Dick is still breathless from a second orgasm, almost limp in Clark's hands, to lick behind his balls and kiss each firm rounded cheek and nuzzle between them. But he's irresistible, in the way he tastes and the way he writhes and the firm sleek feel of him as he jerks and curses joyfully and bucks against Clark's mouth.
He sounds surprised, if anything, when he comes the third time. It may be because Clark succumbs to the temptation to grasp all he can have, to fuck Dick with his tongue till he tastes the rise of his pulse and the flickers of pleasure along his nerves.. Then again, it may just be the number.
Clark kisses the fine inner skin of Dick's thigh and breathes against it till Dick stops trembling, till he disentangles his fingers from Clark's hair and waves his shorts with vague purpose. "Wow. I--- wow. I. I owe you three, don't I?"
"It was my pleasure being able to share this with you." Clark licks beaded sweat from Dick's forehead and kisses his temples gently.
Dick laughs. He sounds winded, and purely happy. "Man. I think I'm going to need your help getting these back on." He grins, his eyes heavy-lidded, and Clark kisses his mouth gently too. He wants to lick his ears and the rising bruises on his arms and calves, but he contents himself with folding his arms around Dick as he pulls his shorts back on and wraps his arms around Clark's neck.
Clark resumes flying, the taste of Dick rich and sweet in his mouth, and Dick breathes drowsily against his shoulder and hangs onto him. It's not till they're skimming the Appalachians that Dick stirs again and says, "I mean it, you know. I want to see you again."
"Dick---" and here's where Clark should gently impress upon him the loss it would be to the world were Bruce given reason to kill him.
Dick just smiles at him, glowing pink and blue-eyed and beautiful. "Next week I have a four-day weekend. I'm supposed to take time off and go be a teenager. I think I'll come to Metropolis, for some of it."
"I'll find you," Clark says, against his better judgment, and basks in that smile.
Title From:
In My Sky At Twilight
In my sky at twilight you are like a cloud
and your form and colour are the way I love them.
You are mine, mine, woman with sweet lips
and in your life my infinite dreams live.
The lamp of my soul dyes your feet,
the sour wine is sweeter on your lips,
oh reaper of my evening song,
how solitary dreams believe you to be mine!
You are mine, mine, I go shouting it to the afternoon's
wind, and the wind hauls on my widowed voice.
Huntress of the depth of my eyes, your plunder
stills your nocturnal regard as though it were water.
You are taken in the net of my music, my love,
and my nets of music are wide as the sky.
My soul is born on the shore of your eyes of mourning.
In your eyes of mourning the land of dreams begin.
Pablo Neruda
