The Glitter Jungle:
Fiction:
Seventy Five
Young people should challenge themselves. Clark/Lex
"Shame, shame on you. Bad Lex. Shameful behaviour. What would your daddy say?"
"He'd probably say, 'Lex, give me my dress back!'" Lex laughed, swirling
around the room in the dark red ball gown. "I took it from his closet."
"Yeah?" Clark grabbed his dancing lover and kissed him, sharing the
acidic
lemon flavour of his chewing gum. "And what would he say about that?"
"He'd say," Lex gasped into Clark's mouth, "That you're nothing but
a
meaningless fucktoy. And that the chemicals in the gum can give you
cancer."
"What a bitch."
"He really is," Lex chuckled.
"I bet he wouldn't like our choice of music, either." Clark ranted.
Lex had to agree. "Napalm Death? He'd say it's nothing but noise."
"Good thing he's not here, then."
The house was desolate; even the servants were all away. Lex and Clark
had
the place to themselves for a long weekend. It was the perfect opportunity
to explore all the rooms in the house, and try to fuck in each and
every
one of them.
"I'm dead." Lex flopped on the carpet in... what was that room anyway?
Why
was it here? What purpose did it serve? "You killed me, Clark. With
your
evil cock of doom."
Clark chuckled and waved the offensive organ in Lex's direction
threateningly. Lex grabbed it.
"If I give you a hand job, does it count as sex?" Lex wouldn't usually
consider it to be a proper fuck, merely an appetiser. But he had seventy
five rooms, and only one ass.
*
When Lionel returned home after the weekend he had to organise the servants
into a search party in order to finally find his son and the boyfriend
somewhere on the third floor in one of the rooms that were only visited
once a year to be cleaned.
"What are you doing in here?"
Clark jumped up and covered himself in a tablecloth he found. Clouds
of
dust surrounded him. Lex barely got up, and hobbled to grasp
his shirt and
hold it in front of himself.
Lionel sighed. "You tried the 'every room in the house' challenge."
It was
a statement, not a question. The boys didn't respond.
He shot a look at his son.
"Hurts, doesn't it. I should know."
He left the room, and inside it remained two very squicked boys who
just
now realised their idea was not as original and unique as they thought.
Info:
The Very Complicated Happy Fluff Improv #14 (by Leetal): acidic - shameful - dark - napalm - fuck - cancer - meaningless - dead - desolate.
Writing happy fluff with all these words was HARD.