Revolution #9
I don't know what this is, really, hahaha. tess_wolfe asked for either Beatles John/George or Smallville Clark/Lex. She gave no dialouge, title or plot to work with, so what I came up with is . . . Clark/Lex talking about John/George. It's rather awful, and I apologize. Rating is R, I guess, or maybe PG-13.
Revoloution #9
“You want to make out to Revolution #9?” Clark asked incredulously. The song, if it could be called that, filled Lex’s bedroom, issuing from his stereo. Snippets of radio, people screaming, choruses chanting, reel-to-reel conversations between the Beatles, animal sounds and orchestras blaring, one on top the other, in a cacophony of noise. It was neither mood setting or easy to listen to.
“We become naked, Clark,” Lex said in a voice that bordered on pornographic. “Everything the Beatles did was about love, even this.”
Clark sat on Lex’s bed, his hands smoothing out the black satin sheets casually, keeping his eyes off Lex as Lex loosened his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt. “I don’t think they had gay adolescent sex in mind when they wrote this.”
Lex’s shirt dropped to the floor with a soft hushing sound and soon he was on the bed beside Clark. “I have it on good authority that the Beatles were a little queer themselves,” he said and pulled Clark to him. Even if the song wasn’t entirely mood setting, Lex kissing Clark on the shoulder seemed to have the desired effect.
“You’re full of it,” Clark murmured, letting his eyes flutter closed.
As the CD began to hiss out ‘Number nine’ in a voice suited for a very bored waiter, Lex eased Clark back onto his back and began kissing his way down his throat. “I’ll be your John Lennon if you’ll be my George Harrison,” he murmured, wickedly, moving his arms to hold Clark like he was a guitar and strumming his hands over Clark’s crotch and jeans.
“You’re ruining my childhood heroes,” he gasped. Then Clark gurgled and tensed, sucking in air and holding it as Lex played him out. Then he exhaled, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling as the music seemed to fade and all he could really focus on was his own ragged breathing. “Besides, I thought John and Paul were the gay ones,” Clark finally managed to say and he was rewarded with Lex’s steely grey eyes rising to look up at him, his mouth a mischievous grin.
“You’re even worse than I am,” Lex crooned, following the comment with a laugh that was silenced by Clark’s lips. They kissed for several long moments, as the song died and in the brief silence after it ended, Lex whispered, grinning, “But it was John and George.”
Revoloution #9
“You want to make out to Revolution #9?” Clark asked incredulously. The song, if it could be called that, filled Lex’s bedroom, issuing from his stereo. Snippets of radio, people screaming, choruses chanting, reel-to-reel conversations between the Beatles, animal sounds and orchestras blaring, one on top the other, in a cacophony of noise. It was neither mood setting or easy to listen to.
“We become naked, Clark,” Lex said in a voice that bordered on pornographic. “Everything the Beatles did was about love, even this.”
Clark sat on Lex’s bed, his hands smoothing out the black satin sheets casually, keeping his eyes off Lex as Lex loosened his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt. “I don’t think they had gay adolescent sex in mind when they wrote this.”
Lex’s shirt dropped to the floor with a soft hushing sound and soon he was on the bed beside Clark. “I have it on good authority that the Beatles were a little queer themselves,” he said and pulled Clark to him. Even if the song wasn’t entirely mood setting, Lex kissing Clark on the shoulder seemed to have the desired effect.
“You’re full of it,” Clark murmured, letting his eyes flutter closed.
As the CD began to hiss out ‘Number nine’ in a voice suited for a very bored waiter, Lex eased Clark back onto his back and began kissing his way down his throat. “I’ll be your John Lennon if you’ll be my George Harrison,” he murmured, wickedly, moving his arms to hold Clark like he was a guitar and strumming his hands over Clark’s crotch and jeans.
“You’re ruining my childhood heroes,” he gasped. Then Clark gurgled and tensed, sucking in air and holding it as Lex played him out. Then he exhaled, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling as the music seemed to fade and all he could really focus on was his own ragged breathing. “Besides, I thought John and Paul were the gay ones,” Clark finally managed to say and he was rewarded with Lex’s steely grey eyes rising to look up at him, his mouth a mischievous grin.
“You’re even worse than I am,” Lex crooned, following the comment with a laugh that was silenced by Clark’s lips. They kissed for several long moments, as the song died and in the brief silence after it ended, Lex whispered, grinning, “But it was John and George.”