Tuesday -- DC & Marvel Characters

[roguewords.livejournal.com]

Hi I'm roguewords, and I'll be your guest host for the week!

First up, DC and Marvel characters! These are pairings from DC and Marvel comics. Crossovers (between universes or other fandoms) are cool.

Please remember to format your prompts correctly for the ease of the codemonkeys.

Examples:

X-Men, Scott/Rogue, victory not easily won

Batman, Dick/Tim, sparring

Don't forget more than one writer can respond to a prompt. You may leave more than one prompt, and you can answer your own prompts.


And if nothing here is to your costumed superhero liking, feel free to check out the lonely prompts and rescue one of them.

Comments

[roguewords.livejournal.com]

X-Men, Scott/Rogue, victory not easily won

[flareonfury.livejournal.com]

first scogue in years... sorry if this sucks.
--

They were finally together.

Finally after years of being enemies, teammates, friends, and then best friends, they were finally boyfriend and girlfriend. Although admittedly, it was still odd to think of them as together… Rogue had to pinch herself to remind herself that it was real. That their relationship was real and she wasn’t dreaming.

However the victory had not been easily won… but they ended up triumphing in the end. Even with all the obstacles of previous girlfriends and boyfriends, and with the obstacle of being unable to touch skin to skin, they were still together and finally found their other half.

[roguewords.livejournal.com]

Batman, Dick/Tim, sparring

[zarabithia.livejournal.com]

Everyone always talked about the ass.

By "everyone," Tim really meant anyone who had ever been a Titan, thought about being a Titan, or who had the smallest of ties to the Titans. That included all of the past members of Young Justice, all of Tim's current team, and Dick's current and past teams.

Not to mention the people on Bruce's teams. That's a lot of people who had noticed Nightwing's ass.

Tim's noticed the ass before, himself. When they were on patrol and Dick was in that costume ... it's kind of impossible not to notice the ass.

But when they sparred, Tim didn't even remotely notice, because when they sparred, there were a million other facets of Dick Grayson that demanded Tim's attention instead.

There was the mouth for one. The way it curved into a dangerous, predatory smirk as they danced around the mat in the cave was distracting even to Tim, and he had no idea how any of Dick's opponents even manage to stay focused when that mouth was turned on them.

Then again, none of Dick's opponents had ever been on the receiving end of that mouth, as it worked its way down their body with the kind of terrible efficiency and patience that made even the most reticent of the Robins keen with longing loud enough to disturb the proper butler upstairs. Or would have been, had Alfred not long since been used to such displays.

Sparring was an essential part of the Bat lifestyle, after all.

After the mouth, Tim was most likely to be distracted by the hands. They were acrobat hands, to be sure, but Dick's opponents had no reason to know this, because there was no sign of the lightness or laughter of the circus in them as Dick wielded his weapons. Tim noted the serious side of Dick as they sparred - it would have been a painful mistake not to.

But after the sparring was done, the playful touch of Dick's hands came back to life as he took his time to peel off first his costume in a slow game of strip tease that could reduce Tim to pleading with Dick to hurry.

The legs were next in the display of impressiveness. The power of Bludhaven's champion was deceptive in the costume he wore, but any opponent that came across Nightwing would be unlucky if they were caught in a blow from those muscled legs. Tim learned a great deal of his ducking abilities from dodging out of the way of those powerful kicks.

Those legs were just powerful in the shower. With Tim pinned against one stall, those legs held them both in place through Dick's enthusiastic and needful thrusts, the kind that Tim tried to reciprocate in kind, no matter how otherwise trapped his was between the iron-like muscles of the first Robin's legs.

It was only later, long after the adrenaline built up during the sparring session had been released and both boys were thoroughly spent, that Tim noticed the ass.

Because it was a very nice ass, and quite impossible not to notice in all its naked glory when Dick Grayson walked away from Tim in order to get dressed.

[damalur]

X-Men, Remy/Rogue, affair

[restlessme.livejournal.com]

implied character death.
"If you won't dare to kiss me, pretend it's an affair," he whispers through choked breath.
Laugh is thick through tears as she crouches besides him, too frightened to touch.

If he just holds on for a few more moments, the ambulance can come and everything will be like a fairytale.

Shaking her head, she leans over his body, eyes flickering everywhere but the bloody wound that is quickly staining the ground around him.

The childish part of her wants to be amazed that so much blood is escaping and he's still joking.
But he's her Remy, something she doubts she'll ever speak aloud.
Gloved hands whisper across his face, over lips and closed eyes.

"You can't die, not here," she pleads, so tired of pleading. Begging to touch, to be normal, to be loved.

She wants this affair, wants it so badly she can taste it on the tip of her tongue.
Deeply breathing out, she slips her gloves off with practiced motion.
Before her mind can think, she runs hands over rough stubble, over soft lips.

"Ma chérie," he murmurs, voice trailing off as his eyes clench tighter.
Tears falling from her face, sobs echoing off her chest, she leans closer.
Hesitate, her lips brush his.

An affair.

Hope you liked it!

[damalur]

Avengers/Young Avengers, Clint/Kate, custom made

[zarabithia.livejournal.com]

One of the advantages of being with another hero was being with someone who understood what a battle was, and what it would do to a person. That was important when it came to waking up at two a.m. covered in sweat from a battle that wouldn't stop replaying, it was important for having someone who could grit their teeth and bare the nastiness that came with patching up post-battle wounds, and perhaps most important of all, it was important when it came to having a partner who understood what battles did to sex drives.

Kate's not been a hero for as long as Clint, but she gets all three parts of the deal loud and clear. The nightmares she doesn't talk about, and she's grateful that Clint doesn't even try to get her to. She doesn't try to make him talk about his, either. The little sounds she is able to discern sometimes when the former battles are keeping her awake while they haunt his sleep are enough to tell her what he doesn't say.

Pressing him for answers won't undo what's happened to The Scarlet Witch, what's happened to Mockingbird, or what's happened to Captain America.

So Kate doesn't.

She also doesn't apologize when she's patching up the wounds, even though he comes back with more blood than she's used to. Kate remembers Cap and Iron Man both lecturing them on how the Young Avengers needed to be careful, lest they get hurt, and sometimes when she is bandaging Clint's wounds, she wonders how Cap or Iron Man could ever say such nonsense with a straight face. None of her team has ever come back from battle as thoroughly fucked up as Clint tends to.

There's no way to be gentle, when he's that messed up. She tries not to hurt him, but sometimes she can't help it. She doesn't apologize, but sometimes he does, when he's patching her up.

Kate hopes he'll stop doing that soon.

Sometimes, though, Clint doesn't need as much patching up, and neither does she. Sometimes they still do need patching up, but they skip that part entirely on the way to the sex.

It's more urgent sex than the kind they have the rest of the time. Both are full of battle-driven hormones, and there are more scratches, tears, and bites than are typical. It's frantic, and born more of need than want.

It could easily give her issues, but although Kate's never told Clint about why she could have issues with their rougher bouts of sex- and has no plans to ever tell him because it's private dammit, and not part of them - he lets her take the lead. It's almost as though he knows exactly how much to push before laying back and letting her take over.

"I like a girl on top," he says, and any issue Kate could have with their rougher rendezvous is abandoned.

Clint's fingers still leave bruises, but they leave bruises on her hips as they grip either side while she rides him. He leaves bruises, but she leaves her mark on him too, in his swollen lip and scratched and bruises shoulders.

It's rough sex, but it's equally rough sex, that ...that is enough to make it okay for Kate. More than okay, really.

So much more than okay, that it takes her a while to realize that their frantic, post-battle sex had resulted in a casualty she hadn't intended.

Clint sits up and dangles the broken arrow that only hadn't hurt either one of them out of pure chance. "Trying to booby-trap the bed, girly-girl?"

"And waste my prized, custom made arrows on you?"

Clint snorts and tosses the remains of the arrow in the trash can beside the bed. "Need to be more careful next time."

Kate doesn't correct him. They both know it isn't true, anyway.

[darkmagic-luvr.livejournal.com]

Supernatural/Teen Titans, evil!Dean/Raven, blood kink

[comeon-eileen.livejournal.com]

She sympathizes, to the extent that she can. It's not much, but it's something. The man inside is... confused. His soul has become a weather vein for the powers that blow across the earth, powers he can neither understand nor control. He twists and turns and stalls and waits, always at their mercy, at their whim. He was righteous yesterday; now, his heart is dark.

She, too, has been used. She has tried to be good, to be right, but there is always a tether, a tie, a bind, a hold to that place of infinite darkness from where she came; her past is always near.

It is easy to offer herself as a trade for her friends. They are strong, they protest, but she can see where the fight will escalate, where the shadows that lurk in his footsteps will anger and strike out in their true and terrifying form, and they are strong, too. She can do this. More so, she wants to. She wants to show him her secrets and her passions and all the forbidden urges that lap against her consciousness like eager dogs, begging to be unleashed. She wants to share the hope she's found, however small and unlikely a glimmer it may be, that they may be more than conduits of the great forces.

It is not easy. He lusts for pain. He breaks her skin at the collar bone and paints her lips red with blood, before kissing her soundly on the mouth. Somewhere inside of him, he aches, he's sorry, but it doesn't show in the pleasure of his gasp when she wets her hand with the wound and trails it down his chest. "You like this," He says, surprised and pleased.

Perhaps. Her dark power surges up to meet his expectations, but she tempers it. "You don't," She assures him. Confident, not prideful.

He takes her hand and slowly licks her fingertips, one by one, staining his own lips. He smiles. "I wouldn't be too sure about that, Sweetheart." Dean pulls her tight against him, hard, hoping she'll resist. She doesn't. His body is warm from the inside out with hellfire (a familiar heat). Hands slick down her back, along the curve of her hips, tracing the line between her inner thighs as she holds her legs together.

She has a brief vision: their bodies, writhing, intertwined, their passion and laughter echoing loud through a hall of darkness and mingling with the sounds of a thousand damaged souls. Please and emotion, as she is not allowed. She... caps it, seals, banishes it away. This is her mission. Her goal.

Dean watches, senses the shift, and the quiet, disheartened voice inside of him grows stronger. "Come on," he says, roughly, but suddenly almost... uncertain. "Let's get to the good part."

"I hope you're ready," She says, and pulls the overflow of his pain and frustration and need onto herself. It's stronger than expected; she freezes, her body stiff. And then it fades a bit, and moves to the great ocean of pain she's taken from everyone else.

Dean takes it worse. He coughs and coughs and nearly gags, his limbs shaky and cold. "Shit." He wipes his nose with a bloody hand. "Aw, what the f-" His eyes settle on her. "What did you do? It's like one moment all I can think about is how much I hate everything and then the next, I don't."

She says, "I calmed the storm. It won't last. They play on your feelings for Sam. You have to temper them."

"Right. Well." They are still close. His body still wants her. Dean scratches his head awkwardly. "Thanks."

[noteveryday.livejournal.com]

Spiderman, Kaine/Scarlet Spider, Never the original

[noteveryday.livejournal.com]

Young Avengers, Teddy/Billy, "I could even be you"

[lilpocketninja.livejournal.com]

He's sitting on Billy's bed, one of the ones they dragged into the clubhouse for when Saturday morning practice started to morph into Saturday team-bonding nights. For once, the other two boys who shared the room had gone home without Teddy's unsubtle prompting and he intends to make the best of a night alone.

Billy had just run downstairs to grab some sodas from the minifridge, promising to be right back and to rain fiery death on Teddy if he moved a muscle. Teddy has moved rather a lot of muscles by the time he returns.

In the middle of Billy's bed sits a perfect replica of Billy: the same floppy hair, warm brown eyes, everything down to the weird birthmark on his hip and the few scars he's picked up in his short career as a superhero. The other-Billy blinks back at him, a slow wicked smile spreading over his face.

"Hi."

Other-Billy watches, amused, as Billy's mouth opens and closes like a fish's and he struggles to find something more intelligent to say than 'guh.' His efforts are unsuccessful, though, because a few minutes later and all he can manage is in fact: "Guh."

"Billy?" A hint of doubt creeps into other-Billy's voice, which is the same as Billy's but for the strange echo in both their ears. The line between other-Billy's dark eyebrows, the one that always appears when Billy's feeling unsure, forms and he purses his lips. "You don't like it?"

"You can be me," Billy points out, as though he can't trust his eyes and he has to reason everything out instead. His mouth stays hanging open when he's done speaking.

"I can be anyone. I could even be you." Other-Billy's confidence has returned, and he lies back on the bed with a challenging expression on his face. Billy's eyes follow up from the point of one foot (with a callus on it, from where he played soccer in middle school) past familiar hips and abs and finally to look in his own eyes. Other-Billy laughs. "It's easy to be you. I know your body so well."

As if to prove his point, other-Billy's hands start to caress his own chest, toying with sensitive nipples and pressing a finger into the path of his abs. "I know what you like. And what you don't. And where to put all the really sensitive nerve endings."

Billy falls gracelessly on the bed beside him in his usual spastic tangle of limbs, falling over himself to get to the other-Billy's side and touch his back just there, and his ear. "So when I do this --"

Other-Billy's hips jerk entirely without his permission, and his moan is cut off with a surprised grunt.

"Is that really what it feels like for you every time?" he breathes, but Billy ignores him in favor of sucking on a nipple. It lasts all of a few minutes before Teddy's concentration starts to slip, but they are glorious minutes and Teddy's sure he's never been so hard in his life.

"F-f-uck," he mumbles, as his body tries to slip back to its default form. "Your body is amazing."

Billy just smiles and swirls his tongue in a slow, lazy circle before it drags downward. "You don't know the half of it yet."

[noteveryday.livejournal.com]

Heroes/Young Avengers, Daphne/Tommy, Damn speedsters

[noteveryday.livejournal.com]

Heroes/Young Avengers, Sylar/Billy, "The things I could do with your power..."

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

Iron Man (movieverse), Tony/Rhodey, handy

iron man, tony/rhodey, handy

[wellowned.livejournal.com]

all rhodey can see of tony are his legs, sticking out from under the r8, one foot tapping in time to whatever cock rock guitars and bass blasting that he has on standby. it's not like any other time he's seen tony, not after MIT and his robot building schemes. he's always been pretty handy with a wrench and soldering iron, so it's no surprise that he doesn't believe in a mechanic caring for his precious automobiles.

but, hey, it's not a bad view from where rhodey's sitting, you know? tony still hasn't learned to wear anything that's not poured onto him like a second skin. not even his iron man suit knows how to be breathable or loose. tony's ass has never looked better, he thinks, except for a moment like right now, where he's bent over the front of his car, tinkering under the hood.

it's not like it's anything new. no one can spend any length of time in tony's presence without walking the line between wanting to be tony or wanting to fuck tony. times even happen where the two options are the same, wondering if he's quite as handy with people as he is with circuit boards. and rhodey? well, he's spent a long long time in tony's presence.

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

X-men (movieverse), Scott/Logan, shorts

Evil Clothes [Xmen, Scott/Logan]

[chibifukurou]

Logan swears that Scott is evil, and he's right even if nobody else believes him.

There is proof of his evilness if you just know where to look.Example A being the uniform that looks like it's been painting up, sure the rest of them wear similar get-up but not as tight as Scott does.

Example B is much more damning, it's a pair of old denim cut off shorts that are just long enough to cover his crotch and so tight that he has to go commando when he's wearing them. There is no reason for Scott to be wearing those, except for the nefarious purpose of torturing him.

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

The Fantastic Four (movieverse), Reed/Johnny, glance

Gym Showers, minor NC-17

[guiltyreasons.livejournal.com]

Reed had always been Susan's. She'd dug her nails in pretty deep and won't let go. They would likely grow up and get married together or something. That didn't mean Reed didn't look around and see something good right besides him.

Johnny felt the glances, especially when they were in the shower room of the gym. After a good work out they would shower off and the whole time he could feel Reed looking than not looking.

Today was the last of it. Johnny won't put up with this anymore.

"So does it stretch too?" Johnny asked with a smirk.

"Yes, so?" Reed said turning his back on Johnny almost embarrassed.

"So if I," Johnny said reaching around and grabbing his cock, pulling it all the way behind him, "Stretch it than it still feels good over here?" Johnny put the head of the penis into his mouth and watched Reed gasp.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Reed yelled turning away and glaring at him, but Johnny saw that his heart wasn't in it.

"Giving you a taste of what you've always wanted. Me," Johnny said with a smug grin. Reed's lack of response told Johnny everything he needed to know.

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

X-men (movieverse), Scott/John, conditions

[gaffsie.livejournal.com]

Thoughtcrimes/X-Men, Brendan/Jean Grey, not that unusual

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

X-Men, Gambit/Wolverine, one hell of a fight

[ribby.livejournal.com]

Adrenaline Rush


They'd both volunteered to be clean-up crew, desperately needing time for the adrenaline to settle before they went back among "civilized" folk. Wolverine had been a bit surprised when Gambit had volunteered, but the feral look in the Cajun's eyes was all too familiar.

They'd gotten complacent, spent too long fighting nothing but shadows and computer-generated villains; this had been a difficult fight for the entire X-team, but thankfully, everyone came out whole.

Well, mostly... Logan's own wounds had healed, thanks to his healing factor, but Remy still bled from a few gashes, red dripping sluggishly off an arm wound, and down a cheek already crusty with healing. Logan approached with caution--Remy still held himself ready for a fight, and the last thing Logan needed was Remy mistaking him for a threat.

"Should see to those, Cajun. Don't want to scar that pretty face."

Remy laughed, its tone bitter. "Don't matter none, Logan. One more scar, the femmes will like it, neh?" His sigh was weary, angry, and exactly how Logan felt. All the tension seemed to have left him, and it was only sheer will holding him up now.

"It was a hell of a fight, but you did good, kid." Logan knew he took a risk--Remy was touchy about praise, often seeing it as condescension. But not this time--Logan was graced with a tired version of Remy's usual megawatt grin. Even tired, the kid had charm to spare.

"Thanks, mon ami. 'Preciate hearing that." Remy hissed as the recalcitrant lock of hair he was pushing back from his face feathered over the cut on his cheek. "Merde. I hate getting blood out of my hair."

Logan couldn't have said where the impulse came from, nor did he really want to know. He leaned forward, giving Remy plenty of time to move away if he wished, and licked at the blood coating the younger man's cheek. Coppery, hot, and vaguely spicy... exactly how he'd expected Gambit to taste. Another hiss, but this time Remy leaned into the sensation, not away from it; and Logan discovered one more reason Remy wanted to linger as a distinct hard-on pressed into his thigh.

Logan slid a hand up to tangle in Remy's matted locks. "We get back, I'll give you a hand with your hair...and anything else you might need."

"Deal." A pause. "Uh...Logan, not to be pushy but... if we don't get moving soon, you might not need to give me a hand."

"Oh, you want to move? Well why didn't you say so?" Logan shifted, leaning a thigh in between Remy's, and flexing gently, pressing and rubbing against the younger man's erection.

"Merde... Logan... wait..." Strong hands clamped down on his shoulders, long fingers likely leaving bruises (something that he occasionally wished he could keep), but before he could shove Logan away, he stiffened and came with a keening cry, Logan barely keeping his growl in his throat as he felt Remy's cock pulsing against his thigh.

Remy slumped against Logan, trusting him to hold them both up. "Unfair, Logan--now I have to shower anyway."

Logan grinned, showing teeth. "You're young, you'll recover. 'Sides, this way we can take longer, right?"

A snort was his only response. Now, he *really* had something to look forward to. And all it had taken was a hell of a fight.

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

The Avengers, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, can we be friends again?

[cero-ate.livejournal.com]

Tony keened softly as Caps hands, mouth moved over him, so strong, so sure. Touching him, making him need, making him almost forget what he’d done. He didn’t deserve this, he knew he didn’t deserve this. He was his father’s son after all. Nothing but an alcoholic asshole who wasn’t worth licking Cap’s shoes, let alone Cap touching him like this. They hadn’t even talked once since Cap, since Steve had come back. Just fell into this. Whatever this was. It didn’t feel right. Didn’t…he didn’t deserve it. He knew it. Cap knew it too. It wasn’t, it didn’t feel…affectionate from Steve anymore. Just sex. Good sex after all, Cap did know how to use his whole body but it wasn’t what sex with Captain America, more importantly with Steve Rogers ought to be like.

As much as he wanted to keep going, he owed it to Steve’s self respect to stop this. He didn’t have anything worth respecting for himself anymore but Steve deserved better than this. “Stop!”

Steve stopped of course, he’d never keep going after a partner called that word. “What’s wrong?

Tony looked into blue eyes in such an honest expressive face as he started to get dressed. This was worse than the worse hangover he’d ever had. He really really could use a drink. “This…it isn’t right. Isn’t what you deserve. I’m not what you deserve.”

“Isn’t this what you want?” Steve asked.

“No,” Tony admitted. “I…Steve, I screwed up. I screwed you over, I screwed” My friends. No, he didn’t have any right to call them that anymore. “The Avengers over… I’m not worth this, you, your friendship anymore.”

“Tony…” Steve hadn’t really ever looked that tired before death. “If you don’t want this, I understand. But…let’s work on being friends again at least?”

“I… I can’t.” He didn’t deserve Cap. He made for the door but Steve stopped him. Standing so tall in the doorway, using his height like he usually never did. Never did before he died, before Tony’d all but pointed the gun at him and pulled the trigger.

“You’re not running away from me this time Tony,” Steve told him. For a moment, Tony even believed him.

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

Batman, Bruce/Dick, fetishes

[saavikam77.livejournal.com]

It wasn't exactly a secret among the cape and cowl crowd that Dick had a fetish for leather, latex, and tights. Heck, even back when the Titans were new it had been common knowledge, at least among his fellow team members. The mere fact that he'd managed to sleep with almost all of them had seen to that fact.

But what they didn't know, or he hoped they didn't all know, was just how much his leather fetish had come straight from the source.

The first time Dick had seen Bruce in the Batsuit, armored Kevlar, utility belt, gloves, and all, he'd only barely managed to keep his adolescent excitement to himself. It hadn't much helped when Bruce had clapped him on the shoulder, either, his hand strong and heavy, the warm, sharp scent of the leather intoxicating. That night, alone in his room, he'd taken himself in hand repeatedly, unable to get the sight and smell out of his imagination.

And that hadn't even been the half of it. For pretty much all of his teen years, Dick had suffered his intense attraction to Bruce in leather in silence.

But not anymore. Not now. Not with Bruce curled around him, the scent of the leather lingering, even on freshly-showered skin. If it wasn't for the similarly-fresh bruises and cuts from a long patrol, Dick would've thought it was a dream. But, oh God, it wasn't. It was real. They were real.

Breathing in the heady scents and feeling alive in a way he hadn't until this, Dick snuggled closer into Bruce's arms.

* * *

[angstpuppy.livejournal.com]

X-Men, Movie!verse +, Wolveriene/Gambit, discipline

comment_fic, Wolverine/Gambit, discipline

[cyphersushi.livejournal.com]

Strict discipline is a must for both of them. Logan needs to control his temper and his strength and Remy might look thin but there is hidden fortitude in him. Not to mention his more flashy powers. After accidentally charging and destroying several things he really didn't want to lose when they first manifested he now keeps a tight reign on his feelings. It takes it's toll.

When they meet in Logan's remote cottage, the one he built himself while trying to figure out why he couldn't remember anything, they can let that discipline go. Remy is strong enough to take whatever Logan can give him and if Remy accidentally explodes the shirt buttons while trying to get them off the burns on Logan's chest heal almost at once and the pain only serves to get him more exited. Exited enough to take Remy roughly against a wall with the younger man urging him on with mewls and curses. And when the Cajun turns the table and bends Logan over the sturdy table tracing lines of searing energy over his back as he slides in deep and hard over and over again the growls could come from either of them.

When they leave the cottage the discipline is back in place and only the scratch marks on the wall and the burns in the ceiling show what has passed.

[angstpuppy.livejournal.com]

X-Men/Supernatural, Dean/Remy, Logan/Sam, responsiblility

[elebridith]

Justice League/Torchwood, Wonder Woman/Capt. Jack Harkness, "Are you serious?"

[toestastegood.livejournal.com]

Heroes/Superman, Nathan/Clark, you can fly too?

[daria234.livejournal.com]

"You can rally the whole city with one of your speeches. You're perfectly comfortable in a tux making small-talk with world leaders. You understand business and finance and politics. And you can fly too?" Clark asked the Senator, presumably for the story for the Daily Planet.

Petrelli flashed one of his million-vote grins and made the typical politician show of false modesty. Clark had trouble concentrating, though, looking at the man's features, his confidence. He had to admit he admired Petrelli's courage, telling the world he had powers. But it was more than that. The way Nathan handled himself - the witty comments, the intense gaze that showed power but also danger. Clark had to admit, it reminded him of Lex.

Clark tried to put these thoughts out of his head as the Senator got up to signal the end of the interview,, but then a man came over and whispered something in Petrelli's ear, something that made Nathan give Clark an interested look up and down, making Clark swallow uncomfortably.

"Yes, Parkman, thank you. You know, Mr. Kent, I would love to discuss these issues in an off-the-record capacity, if you can stay for a drink or two."

*****

Nathan smiled as he looked down at Clark's sleeping form -- unimaginable power, spent and disheveled in my bed, he thought to himself.

He really should give Parkman a bonus - this was a good catch. Not only would he have an in with the media, he would have a connection to Superman himself. And now that he knew about Superman and Lex's past, Luthorcorp would become much easier to deal with. Especially now that he knew Lex had a thing for flyboys.

Not that he needed those political reasons, Nathan smugly noted to himself. The sight of Superman throwing his head back in ecstasy was certainly reason enough. He nudged the sleeping body hard, and Clark went, "Mmpht, what? Where am I?"

"With me, Clark. Time to wake up and go again."

[ashesfor-trees.livejournal.com]

X-Men (movieverse), Rogue/Logan, making up from a fight

[daria234.livejournal.com]

"Sorry I left."

"Sorry I hated you for leaving."

"You don't sound sorry, Rogue."

"I'm sorry enough."

They stared at each other in silence for a long time until Rogue broke eye contact and smiled shyly. "What now?" she asked.

Logan wasn't good at reaching across distances, at least not the personal kind. But he knew that she remembered being inside of him, drawing his power and strength but also some part of his mind and his personality too. When she said that she missed him, it wasn't just because they didn't see each other. It was because for a couple of brief moments, there was no clear line defining who was Logan and who was Rogue. He was part of her.

So he stepped up to her and said, "Touch me."

Her eyes widened. "I can't -"

"Just for a second. Touch me."

Staring back at him again, she realized she really wasn't mad any more. She took one glove slowly off, and said, "Just tell me when."

[saavikam77.livejournal.com]

Teen Titans, Tim/Jaime, armor

[saavikam77.livejournal.com]

Aw, what the heck. :p

* * *

By the time they make it back to the Tower after the battle, both Jaime and Tim are buzzing with adrenaline, still high from the fight. This thing between them is still new, but already it's become habit to work off their extra energy together, and today's no different.

They almost don't make it up to Tim's room before Jaime's scarab armor melts away, leaving him naked as he gropes for the clasps in Tim's tunic. But Tim swats at his hands, kicking the door closed behind them, before taking Jaime by the shoulders and steering him back toward the bed.

Jaime falls back with a gasp, leering at his boyfriend from beneath the dark hair falling over his eyes, his fingers itching to get Tim out of his body armor.

"Heh," Tim smirks down at him, working the booby-trapped clasps and catches of his tunic and cape, disarming them quickly. "Patience, Jaime."

"Too slow," Jaime grumbles back.

Sliding off his tunic at last and hooking his thumbs in his briefs to pull them off, Tim smirks again. "Not all of us can have instant-ar--"

But the rest of Tim's comeback is lost as Jaime grabs his now naked boyfriend around the waist and pulls him down onto the bed, silencing him with a deep, wet kiss and pressing himself flush against him, shoulders to knees.

Tim knows they'll find a way to streamline the process in the future, but for now the suspense makes for positively explosive post-battle sex. And who's he to argue with that?

* * *

[saavikam77.livejournal.com]

Batman, Jason/Tim, left behind

[aravistarkheena.livejournal.com]

Title: Left Behind
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: smut, grumpy Jay

Excerpt:

He let out a frustrated sigh as he practically threw his soap and wash cloth back on the shelf built into the shower wall.

His blood was up and his tension was high and there was no way Jason was going to get any rest or peace at all tonight unless…

Jason took a deep breath and tried to relax. Deep breathing and meditation had never really worked for him no matter how many times Bruce had tried to push it on him. A quick jerk off session, on the other hand, always did the trick. (http://aravistarkheena.livejournal.com/504891.html)

Click for the full version, though I suspect you'll nab this on your flist first. :D

[saavikam77.livejournal.com]

Batman, Jason/Donna, discipline

Fic: Batman, Jason/Donna, discipline; R

[aravistarkheena.livejournal.com]

Prompt:Batman, Jason/Donna, discipline
Rating: Hard R
Warnings: Jay just being Jay, really.



Discipline, she had said. Jason needed to learn discipline.

What Donna clearly didn’t know was that Jason had discipline. He had worked with Batman, after all. Batman could only take an impulsive partner for so long before he packed them off to the nearest Buddhist monastery for some ‘discipline’.

If Jason hadn’t had discipline, he would have had Donna pressed up against the nearest wall with his tongue in her mouth months ago. It had only been Jason’s sense of discipline and the knowledge that she would probably have beaten him bloody, that kept him from doing it.

What Jason’s sense of discipline did not keep him from doing, however, was going home and jerking as he imagined the smart, scolding little mouth wrapped around his cock.

Jason had discipline, but he also had a keen sense of fair play.