Ficlet: Where There's Smoke | SR | Clark/Lois | NC-17 | 1/1
Title: Where There's Smoke
Fandom: Superman Returns
Pairing: Clark Kent/Lois Lane
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 543
Prompt: For Porn Battle XII: hands, skirt, gentle, lift, dizzy, rooftop, heated, closet, elevator
Summary: Lois can't help noticing something... off about the way Clark smells.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own everything. I own nothing, dammit.
Author's Notes: Originally posted here at PB XII.
Where There's Smoke
The first time Lois noticed it, they were in the elevator, Clark pressing her up against the wall of the empty car and kissing her senseless, his hand creeping up her thigh and pushing up her skirt, fingertips barely brushing the edge of her panties and sending shocks of lust through her. Her nose wrinkled as she caught a faint whiff of a pungent odor, and she was about to say something, but then the chime sounded for their floor, forcing Clark to back off and leave her straining to catch her breath as she smoothed her skirt back into place.
When the doors opened, Clark only gave her a private smile and adjusted his glasses, stepping off the elevator.
The second time, in the supply closet, there was no denying it. With Clark lifting her gently to lower her onto him, Lois nuzzled into his hair as he gently stretched her, filling her up in a way that only he could. And there was that smell again, clinging to his head like she was clinging to him, thick and dirty and... and a little like the cigarettes she used to sneak when he was still gone.
Before she could say anything, Clark backed her against a set of cabinets and began thrusting into her in earnest, and every thought evaporated as she bit down a whimper and rode him.
But the third time, oh, the third time was the charm. When Clark caught her on the rooftop scratching at a nicotine patch on her shoulder and smoking a water cigarette, she couldn't help the jolt of surprise as he turned her around and kissed her to dizziness, then reached under her skirt to shove her panties out of the way and thrust two fingers deep into her, no warning. Shaking as he held her there, pumping her with his long digits, she realized that that same scent was practically permeating him, soaked into his hair, his skin, his mouth, everything.
It was smoke. Not cigarette smoke, though, not by a long shot. No, this was fire smoke, the kind that only burning buildings churned out, large black clouds billowing out of windows and off of rooftops as it escaped the inferno, dark and ugly and toxic and angry.
A shout as he thrust into her again, his fingers hitting her in just the right spot, Lois fell apart in his arms, shivering and spasming, and when she'd finally come down from the high that their impromptu quickies usually brought, she drew back just enough to look him in the eyes, his gaze so heated that she knew if he didn't fuck her soon, her clothes might be toast.
“Do you always do this after putting out a fire?” she asked him, still a little breathless.
Clark only grinned crookedly. “Maybe.”
“Right. 'Maybe',” she shot back, not at all convinced. He was far too unsubtle for that.
“What can I say? It's the adrenaline.”
And with a chuckle at his admission, understanding the truth of it to her very core, Lois gladly obliged when he backed her against the brick of the balustrade and pushed into her in one stroke, drawing out a gasped whine. If this was the consequence of that facet of Clark's other job, she'd never deny him.
~*~*~*~
Fandom: Superman Returns
Pairing: Clark Kent/Lois Lane
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 543
Prompt: For Porn Battle XII: hands, skirt, gentle, lift, dizzy, rooftop, heated, closet, elevator
Summary: Lois can't help noticing something... off about the way Clark smells.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own everything. I own nothing, dammit.
Author's Notes: Originally posted here at PB XII.
Where There's Smoke
The first time Lois noticed it, they were in the elevator, Clark pressing her up against the wall of the empty car and kissing her senseless, his hand creeping up her thigh and pushing up her skirt, fingertips barely brushing the edge of her panties and sending shocks of lust through her. Her nose wrinkled as she caught a faint whiff of a pungent odor, and she was about to say something, but then the chime sounded for their floor, forcing Clark to back off and leave her straining to catch her breath as she smoothed her skirt back into place.
When the doors opened, Clark only gave her a private smile and adjusted his glasses, stepping off the elevator.
The second time, in the supply closet, there was no denying it. With Clark lifting her gently to lower her onto him, Lois nuzzled into his hair as he gently stretched her, filling her up in a way that only he could. And there was that smell again, clinging to his head like she was clinging to him, thick and dirty and... and a little like the cigarettes she used to sneak when he was still gone.
Before she could say anything, Clark backed her against a set of cabinets and began thrusting into her in earnest, and every thought evaporated as she bit down a whimper and rode him.
But the third time, oh, the third time was the charm. When Clark caught her on the rooftop scratching at a nicotine patch on her shoulder and smoking a water cigarette, she couldn't help the jolt of surprise as he turned her around and kissed her to dizziness, then reached under her skirt to shove her panties out of the way and thrust two fingers deep into her, no warning. Shaking as he held her there, pumping her with his long digits, she realized that that same scent was practically permeating him, soaked into his hair, his skin, his mouth, everything.
It was smoke. Not cigarette smoke, though, not by a long shot. No, this was fire smoke, the kind that only burning buildings churned out, large black clouds billowing out of windows and off of rooftops as it escaped the inferno, dark and ugly and toxic and angry.
A shout as he thrust into her again, his fingers hitting her in just the right spot, Lois fell apart in his arms, shivering and spasming, and when she'd finally come down from the high that their impromptu quickies usually brought, she drew back just enough to look him in the eyes, his gaze so heated that she knew if he didn't fuck her soon, her clothes might be toast.
“Do you always do this after putting out a fire?” she asked him, still a little breathless.
Clark only grinned crookedly. “Maybe.”
“Right. 'Maybe',” she shot back, not at all convinced. He was far too unsubtle for that.
“What can I say? It's the adrenaline.”
And with a chuckle at his admission, understanding the truth of it to her very core, Lois gladly obliged when he backed her against the brick of the balustrade and pushed into her in one stroke, drawing out a gasped whine. If this was the consequence of that facet of Clark's other job, she'd never deny him.
~*~*~*~