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I first wrote this for a challenge - but it was never posted there. I suspect because it lacked angst. Oh well.

Movie Night

By: Darklady

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimers: Superman in his various forms is owned by WB, DC Comics, and sundry other people that are not me. The old 'space alien' movies referred to are also owned by various 'not me' individuals and companies. I'd credit them, but guessing is half the fun.

Category: PWP (Slight future-fic)

Summary: Clark and Lex spend a night at home.

Archive: Here. With Smitty. Anyone else should ask first.

Clark Kent clicked the remote in the general direction of the big-screen TV, dissolving the picture into a flurry of black and white snow as one more old movie failed to make his 'watchable' list.

"Clark." Lex Luthor considered taking over the remote, but he was too comfortable at the moment. His feet were on the overstuffed arm of the leather sofa. His knees were tucked under a discarded flannel shirt. His head was in Clark's lap. His eyes were...well, they weren't on the television. "This was your idea," he reminded Clark. Which it had been. Although when Clark had suggested that they stay home and go though Lex's latest Ebay acquisition - a collection of 'classic' B science fiction movies - rather then drive to Metropolis for the clubbing? Well, Lex hadn't actually protested. Unless you call grabbing the person making the suggestion and attempting to excavate their tonsils with your tongue a protest.

"You know?" Clark clicked again, and another title shot filled the screen. 'The Thing', this time. "There ought to be - well - some place I could complain to." He waved the remote at the screen, with its' 'preview' scenes of explosions and running starlets. "Talk about your media bias."

"Clark?" That did it. If his lover wasn't going to do his part towards the evenings entertainment and be a good pillow? Lex rolled onto his elbow and snagged the black square.

"I mean it." Clark pointed at the screen, which Lex hadn't yet bothered to turn off. "People think the portrayals of Native Americans in the old Westerns was bad? What about extra-terrestrials?" Since his hands were now free, Clark was able to pick up the top few from the pile of jewel cases stacked on the coffee table. "Take a look at this." Flipping to the back notes, he read. "Giant ants. Ice monsters. Rock monsters. Smog monsters." One by one he dropped the boxes down on Lex's bare chest. "Tentacled plant creatures and slime monsters." Two more cases followed, only to slide off when Lex didn't bother to stop them.

Lex picked up one of the more colorful of the scattered cases. 'Green Slime'. He remembered that. He had watched it on television as a child - on one of the endless nights he had sat up in bed and listened in the hopes his father wouldn't be coming home. He had even enjoyed it. Especially the bit where the bossy businessman got dissolved. "Be fair." Lex waggled the cover as he smiled up at Clark. "At least the slime got lots of screen time."

"Yeh." There was a silent pause before Clark added. "But no residuals. Think I should call the Screen Actor's Guild?" Then Clark chuckled. One of his endearing virtues. He could be a twit from time to time, but unlike Lex he didn't go into a tantrum when you pointed it out to him. He just... stopped.

"Only you would think of that." Lex shook his head. Which had the added virtue of rubbing his rather sensitive scalp over... ummm... the reason that he had agreed to say home tonight. The crisp hairs on Clark's belly tickled his ear, so Lex wiggled again. Something smooth swelled between the tickles. Even better. Tonight should be ... entertaining... after all.

Lex ran his thumb over a convenient knee. When his lover didn't respond in his usual way- that is to say, faster than a speeding bullet - Lex added. "Clark - we're not talking National Geographic Special here." Lex tossed the rest of the movies onto the table. Floor. Whatever. "I'm sure even Ray Harryhausen never intended these things to be accurate."

"It's just..." Clark shifted again. Which was nice. At least in the watch-the-rippling-pecs sort of way. Too bad Lex was finished tonight with visual entertainment.

"Clark!" Lex clicked the remote. Off.

"It's just..." Clark shrugged. A surprisingly erotic sensation when one was where Lex was. All that springy black hair. "How come the space visitor always goes for the earth girl?"

"Because we humans are inherently sexy to aliens." Lex sent the remote in the general direction the DVD's had taken. "Especially to the blue-eyed ones." He stroked his palm over his lover's thigh.

Clark got the hint and snuggled down. That was better. Except that he was still talking.

"Lex?" Blue eyes met brown. And twinkled. "I want you to know Fay Wray does nothing for me."

"Good thing." Lex tilted his head back. Catch a clue, Clark. Kiss time. "I think she's about ninety now. Or dead." And he wasn't either. Although if somebody didn't stop teasing and move things along, Lex was beginning to think he might be one or the other before he got laid. He puckered his lips. Hint number two.

"And hey?" The kiss was delivered, but not with full attention. Lex Luthor expected rather better from his... associates. "How come the alien always has to be some ugly bastard?"

"Very unrealistic." Short remark. All he had time for. Lex pulled Clark onto his chest and demonstrated proper kissing technique. With tongue. After all, if you wanted things done right, sometimes you just had to do them yourself.

Clark ran his hands down his lovers back, giving a little tickle when his fingers reached the curve of Lex's ass. "And why does he always want to eat the hero."

Clark's lips left Lex's lips and landed on the smooth indentation of the hairless abdomen. Promising. Very promising.

Lex laughed lightly as he urged the dark head lower. "Well." He thrust up slightly as warm lips moved closer to their target. "That I could see."


KKR 2002

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