WIP Amnesty Week - Day 5
Mar. 26th, 2010 10:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seriousficThe suspect: Kon finds out that Tim and Cassie are dating, so he gets into a weird sort of relationship with Knockout, mostly involving tactile telekinesis.
The charge: Gail Simone changed Knockout from a boring innuendoing femme fatale to a boring honorbound warrior (who's also gay). Also, I kinda used to suck at writing.
The judgment:
Kon had just finished packing his bags when the ‘rents found him. Surrogate ‘rents. They looked at his stripped room as if they had wandered into some strange museum exhibit, even more perplexed by the new lack of decoration than they had been by what had been there.
It didn’t take long for them to figure out he was leaving.
“Couldn’t you stay?” Ma Kent asked, staring at Kon as he turned up the collar on his leather jacket. It was a bit small on him now, his wrists peeking out over the cuffs, but it would serve until he found a new one. Which wasn’t likely to happen in Smallville. Like a lot of things.
“No,” Kon said, shaking his head for emphasis. “I don’t belong here anymore. Maybe I never did. And graduating high school… good a time as any to leave. Heck, it’s almost normal.”
Turning back to his bed, he slammed the last of his suitcases closed. “I’ve stayed here for over a year. A year I could’ve been helping people, fighting evil… the family business.” He gave the Kents a fatalistic look. “I’ll send you a postcard.”
Jonathan Kent insisted on helping Kon drag his luggage to the pick-up. It piled up in the back, edging out the bits of stray hay and a rather unhappy kitten.
“Any thoughts as to where you’ll end up?” was the only thing he said as they loaded the truck.
Kon characteristically shrugged. “Hawaii’s nice this time of year. ‘Course, Hawaii’s nice every time of year. That’s why it’s Hawaii.”
Smiling in recognition of the familiar wanderlust in the boy, Jonathan clapped a hand on his shoulder. “It’s back to the old stomping grounds, then?”
“Never really got a chance to say goodbye.”
Jonathan slammed shut the backgate to the truck. “And… are your friends going to know?”
Kon looked away down the length of the Kent farm’s unpaved driveway. Several yards away, it joined with the highway and the conjoined road stretched on over the horizon. From the air, it looked like a single varicose vein holding down the many-colored fields of produce. It had been a little over a year since Lex Luthor had controlled him, made him hurt people, made him into someone he wasn’t.
Or, worse yet, someone he was.
“I’m not ready to go back,” Kon said simply. “Being on my own… for a while… best for everyone, I think. No one to get hurt.”
***
The flight to the islands was relatively uneventful. No super-intelligent ape armies attacking, no sudden trips into alternate dimensions, not even a hijacker. Kon just ate airline peanuts and concentrated on the latest Lee Child book. He smiled at the stewardess and dropped a line, but she wasn’t interested.
Kon wondered if he had lost his sex appeal. It was probably the glasses. I should lose them when I get to Hawaii. Too retro.
On the second of three stopovers, he made out Superman flying past his window before landing. Spirits dampened, he walked off the aircraft, then slipped away from his group in a Burger King. Super-sensitive hearing easily picking up the powerful bass rumble of his progenititor’s heart, he found Clark out on the tarmac, invisible in the shadow of the air traffic control tower.
“I brought some of Lois’ tuna casserole. You always said you liked it.”
“I always lied,” Kon replied, trying to keep an edge from creeping into his voice.
“That’s why I gave it some seals in Newfoundland and picked up a deep-dish pizza in…”
“Could we skip the geography lesson?” Kon asked, holding up a hand.
Clark shut up, then lowered his glasses and gave the pizza box in his hands a dull going-over with heatvision. Kon took a slice, managing a small but genuine grin. It was good to see Superman again.
“It’s been a year,” Clark said. “What changed your mind?”
Kon shrugged and swallowed a mouthful of cheese and pepperoni. “I don’t know. Felt like the time was right. What changed your mind?”
“I was powerless.”
“Know the feeling.”
“You only think you do…”
“Having your body no longer obey your commands? I’ve had some experience with it.”
Clark said nothing, just took another bite of pizza. Kon looked down at his feet.
“Pizza’s good,” he complimented after a moment. “Where’d you get it?”
“Chicago. Where else would I go for deep dish?”
Smiling, Kon finished off the crust, then licked the grease off his fingers. “You think I should go back. You think I should stay with them.”
“I think you should do what your heart tells you to do.”
“It’d kind of spoil the moment if I was sarcastic about that, wouldn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“Anything else you wanted to say?”
Clark stood up, closing the pizza box and handing it to Kon. “Whatever happens, I’m proud of you. And stay out of trouble.”
***
Kon managed to go a week without. He found an apartment, bought furniture for it, even managed to set up a few job interviews. Then he heard over the news that Knockout had escaped.
Knockout. Just the name set him up to fall hard. They’d been partners… even had a mentor thing going there until he’d figure out, in his capacity as the last person on Earth to notice, that she was a psychopath. Then she’d gone to jail and he went on to… well, the “he went on to” was still in progress.
The newscast was breaking news. Shit.
The prison was built on an otherwise uninhabited island. Her trail was perfectly easy to track. A hole in the prison’s wall, several trees knocked aside… after that, she managed to cover her tracks, but a touch of X-ray vision let him spot her through the canopy.
Superboy came down from behind, scooping her up and holding her in place above the ground. Her arms were still manacled behind her back and her orange prison uniform was torn in several places. He noticed one of them was right over her left breast, revealing a rosy pink nipple to his view.
He looked away, but she was still smiling, knowing he’d looked.
“See anything you like, lover?”
“I’m not your lover,” he snapped, struggling to keep her in place. He had to set down to keep his hold on her; she weaved this way and that, trying to break free.
He didn’t mean to pleasure her. It just kinda happened. She was his prisoner and he wanted to calm her down without hurting her.. that was all. So he grabbed her by the biceps of her thick arms, corded muscles being felt right under her cool, wicked smooth skin. And concentrated, accelerating the molecules in her epidermis just a little. Exciting them. Making a soothing warmth to calm her down.
It didn’t work. She cooed and moaned and rubbed her thighs together, trying to achieve a greater stimulus. A single perfect bead of sweat started at her hairline and descended down her forehead, between her eyes, over the slope of her nose. It transfixed him, hypnotic, as he realized that the sensation he was causing in her must be tantamount to dozens of hands, each rubbing and kneading her flesh.
“Ooooh, that’s a good pup.” Her nipple was hard through the hole in the prison garment. ‘Give it to me harder. I want to know I got fucked.”
As if shocked with electricity, Superboy released her. She looked him up and down, chuckling darkly.
“What’s wrong? Afraid I have cooties?”
“I just don’t want to have any more of a relationship with a sociopath like you than I already do,” Kon retorted.
Knockout laughed out loud, so hard she had to tilt her head back to get it all out. “Don’t be such a prude. I know you have a thing for bad girls. All guys do.”
“Maybe you didn’t notice, what with the flying and tactile telekinesis, but I’m not like all guys.”
“No, you’re better.” She rubbed against him, now wedging his thigh in between her legs and moving up and down it in sultry rhythm. He felt her warmth, right through the layers of clothing between them. It was intoxicating, blistering, heavenly. “All that marvelous strength… and that remarkable stamina… but so inexperienced, so in need of guidance.” He gulped, hard, as Knockout pressed herself harder against him, breasts piling up against his broad chest. They were surprisingly firm for such large organs, but just a tad squishy. He liked the feel of them, the tantalizing affection of her erect nipples cutting into his torso…
“Last time we met, you were just a boy… and now you’ve grown into an M-A-N.”
“And what…” Kon gritted out through his teeth, desperately trying to force his erection down with sheer will, “have you grown into?”
“Nothing, yet. A plant needs sunshine, does it not? Maybe under your… loving guidance, I could be something more than Prisoner 24601.”
“Nice try.”
The redhead brought her knee up gently to his crotch, just enough to rub his swollen balls. “Try? Success, is more like.”
Superboy grabbed her knee in both hands, holding it still. This prevented her from grinding against him further, but he still couldn’t let go of her leg. One of his fingers had slipped through a hole in the fabric and the fingertip, resting somewhere on her inner thigh, spoke to him of skin as soft as silk.
“And why should I get you off?” Kon asked, sadistically sending another euphoric heatwave rippling through her nubile body. She moaned and flushed once more, automatically trying to start the dry-hump over again before she remembered that he had her leg in a vice. “You’ve been nothing but trouble to me.”
“I helped you,” Knockout insisted, shifting her weight onto her “bad” leg. “So many villains, remember? The modern-day Bonnie & Clyde. I taught you how to fight, how to suffer…” Irresistibly, he had begun running his thumbs over her leg in tiny circles. She smiled slightly at the sensation, but didn’t favor him with an audible noise. “Taught you so many things…”
“About betrayal… and deception… and hurt…” he flexed his fingers against the underside of her leg, the digits biting into her flesh.
She gave him a coy smile. “You were such an eager learner, once. Unafraid of your own burgeoning potential…” Knockout let her gaze drift down to his hard-on. “So very bold… and yet now what do you do with that marvelous bit of cocksmanship? Wank off to Maxim? Such a waste…”
“Waste? You wanna talk about waste?” Kon pulled on her knee, slamming her against him. She was precariously balanced on her other leg; the one Kon was hanging onto extended horizontally between his legs, like the climax of a tango dance. “You could’ve been a hero. A champion. You could’ve been someone… to me. And instead you chose to be… what are you? Just another supervillain with delusions of grandeur?”
“I am power!” Knockout protested violently. He could feel her heart beating against his chest. “I am sex! I’m more than you could ever handle!”
“You’re a pathetic little girl who’d rather pretend to be a psycho than let someone in.”
“Pretend? I never cared about you! You were just a means to an end, a way to pass the time until something better came along.”
“And you were my first.” Kon’s hands moved up her leg, past her garter belt, finally flowing under her buttocks and the rounded half-moons of her ass. “We could’ve had something special.”
She felt his fingers descend into her cleft. “We still could.” Superboy’s fingernails dug into her ass, pressing her so hard against him that Knockout felt for sure that they were merging, becoming one. “I missed you. I thought of you.”
“I thought about you too,” Kon said as his tactile telekinesis entered her, filtering down from lightly brushing against her skin to a deep-tissue massage. Knockout felt all the tension ebb out of her body and felt certain that at some point she had an orgasm, although she would be hard pressed to pick it out of the continuous rhythm they had established.
Sometime after the sunset, they found themselves kneeling against each other, her chin resting on his head, his nose buried in her clavicle.
“Does this mean we can’t fight anymore?” Knockout asked with equal parts hope and despondency.
Kon considered it for a moment before tapping her restraints. The manacles clicked and fell from her hands. “I hope so.”
“Did you mean what you said? About having something special? Thinking about me?”
He simply nodded, too lost in the sound of the tide to answer with words.
“I’m going to regret this,” Knockout muttered to herself as she picked the manacles up and put them back on… only one loop, leaving the chain hanging off her left wrist.
“Now you want to go back to jail? I thought you wanted to be free.”
“I do. Which is why you’re going to get me out of there… nice and legal.”
A trace of Kon’s old belligerence overcame him. “And why would I do that?”
“So I can do this,” Knockout said, unzipping her jumpsuit…
The charge: Gail Simone changed Knockout from a boring innuendoing femme fatale to a boring honorbound warrior (who's also gay). Also, I kinda used to suck at writing.
The judgment:
Kon had just finished packing his bags when the ‘rents found him. Surrogate ‘rents. They looked at his stripped room as if they had wandered into some strange museum exhibit, even more perplexed by the new lack of decoration than they had been by what had been there.
It didn’t take long for them to figure out he was leaving.
“Couldn’t you stay?” Ma Kent asked, staring at Kon as he turned up the collar on his leather jacket. It was a bit small on him now, his wrists peeking out over the cuffs, but it would serve until he found a new one. Which wasn’t likely to happen in Smallville. Like a lot of things.
“No,” Kon said, shaking his head for emphasis. “I don’t belong here anymore. Maybe I never did. And graduating high school… good a time as any to leave. Heck, it’s almost normal.”
Turning back to his bed, he slammed the last of his suitcases closed. “I’ve stayed here for over a year. A year I could’ve been helping people, fighting evil… the family business.” He gave the Kents a fatalistic look. “I’ll send you a postcard.”
Jonathan Kent insisted on helping Kon drag his luggage to the pick-up. It piled up in the back, edging out the bits of stray hay and a rather unhappy kitten.
“Any thoughts as to where you’ll end up?” was the only thing he said as they loaded the truck.
Kon characteristically shrugged. “Hawaii’s nice this time of year. ‘Course, Hawaii’s nice every time of year. That’s why it’s Hawaii.”
Smiling in recognition of the familiar wanderlust in the boy, Jonathan clapped a hand on his shoulder. “It’s back to the old stomping grounds, then?”
“Never really got a chance to say goodbye.”
Jonathan slammed shut the backgate to the truck. “And… are your friends going to know?”
Kon looked away down the length of the Kent farm’s unpaved driveway. Several yards away, it joined with the highway and the conjoined road stretched on over the horizon. From the air, it looked like a single varicose vein holding down the many-colored fields of produce. It had been a little over a year since Lex Luthor had controlled him, made him hurt people, made him into someone he wasn’t.
Or, worse yet, someone he was.
“I’m not ready to go back,” Kon said simply. “Being on my own… for a while… best for everyone, I think. No one to get hurt.”
***
The flight to the islands was relatively uneventful. No super-intelligent ape armies attacking, no sudden trips into alternate dimensions, not even a hijacker. Kon just ate airline peanuts and concentrated on the latest Lee Child book. He smiled at the stewardess and dropped a line, but she wasn’t interested.
Kon wondered if he had lost his sex appeal. It was probably the glasses. I should lose them when I get to Hawaii. Too retro.
On the second of three stopovers, he made out Superman flying past his window before landing. Spirits dampened, he walked off the aircraft, then slipped away from his group in a Burger King. Super-sensitive hearing easily picking up the powerful bass rumble of his progenititor’s heart, he found Clark out on the tarmac, invisible in the shadow of the air traffic control tower.
“I brought some of Lois’ tuna casserole. You always said you liked it.”
“I always lied,” Kon replied, trying to keep an edge from creeping into his voice.
“That’s why I gave it some seals in Newfoundland and picked up a deep-dish pizza in…”
“Could we skip the geography lesson?” Kon asked, holding up a hand.
Clark shut up, then lowered his glasses and gave the pizza box in his hands a dull going-over with heatvision. Kon took a slice, managing a small but genuine grin. It was good to see Superman again.
“It’s been a year,” Clark said. “What changed your mind?”
Kon shrugged and swallowed a mouthful of cheese and pepperoni. “I don’t know. Felt like the time was right. What changed your mind?”
“I was powerless.”
“Know the feeling.”
“You only think you do…”
“Having your body no longer obey your commands? I’ve had some experience with it.”
Clark said nothing, just took another bite of pizza. Kon looked down at his feet.
“Pizza’s good,” he complimented after a moment. “Where’d you get it?”
“Chicago. Where else would I go for deep dish?”
Smiling, Kon finished off the crust, then licked the grease off his fingers. “You think I should go back. You think I should stay with them.”
“I think you should do what your heart tells you to do.”
“It’d kind of spoil the moment if I was sarcastic about that, wouldn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“Anything else you wanted to say?”
Clark stood up, closing the pizza box and handing it to Kon. “Whatever happens, I’m proud of you. And stay out of trouble.”
***
Kon managed to go a week without. He found an apartment, bought furniture for it, even managed to set up a few job interviews. Then he heard over the news that Knockout had escaped.
Knockout. Just the name set him up to fall hard. They’d been partners… even had a mentor thing going there until he’d figure out, in his capacity as the last person on Earth to notice, that she was a psychopath. Then she’d gone to jail and he went on to… well, the “he went on to” was still in progress.
The newscast was breaking news. Shit.
The prison was built on an otherwise uninhabited island. Her trail was perfectly easy to track. A hole in the prison’s wall, several trees knocked aside… after that, she managed to cover her tracks, but a touch of X-ray vision let him spot her through the canopy.
Superboy came down from behind, scooping her up and holding her in place above the ground. Her arms were still manacled behind her back and her orange prison uniform was torn in several places. He noticed one of them was right over her left breast, revealing a rosy pink nipple to his view.
He looked away, but she was still smiling, knowing he’d looked.
“See anything you like, lover?”
“I’m not your lover,” he snapped, struggling to keep her in place. He had to set down to keep his hold on her; she weaved this way and that, trying to break free.
He didn’t mean to pleasure her. It just kinda happened. She was his prisoner and he wanted to calm her down without hurting her.. that was all. So he grabbed her by the biceps of her thick arms, corded muscles being felt right under her cool, wicked smooth skin. And concentrated, accelerating the molecules in her epidermis just a little. Exciting them. Making a soothing warmth to calm her down.
It didn’t work. She cooed and moaned and rubbed her thighs together, trying to achieve a greater stimulus. A single perfect bead of sweat started at her hairline and descended down her forehead, between her eyes, over the slope of her nose. It transfixed him, hypnotic, as he realized that the sensation he was causing in her must be tantamount to dozens of hands, each rubbing and kneading her flesh.
“Ooooh, that’s a good pup.” Her nipple was hard through the hole in the prison garment. ‘Give it to me harder. I want to know I got fucked.”
As if shocked with electricity, Superboy released her. She looked him up and down, chuckling darkly.
“What’s wrong? Afraid I have cooties?”
“I just don’t want to have any more of a relationship with a sociopath like you than I already do,” Kon retorted.
Knockout laughed out loud, so hard she had to tilt her head back to get it all out. “Don’t be such a prude. I know you have a thing for bad girls. All guys do.”
“Maybe you didn’t notice, what with the flying and tactile telekinesis, but I’m not like all guys.”
“No, you’re better.” She rubbed against him, now wedging his thigh in between her legs and moving up and down it in sultry rhythm. He felt her warmth, right through the layers of clothing between them. It was intoxicating, blistering, heavenly. “All that marvelous strength… and that remarkable stamina… but so inexperienced, so in need of guidance.” He gulped, hard, as Knockout pressed herself harder against him, breasts piling up against his broad chest. They were surprisingly firm for such large organs, but just a tad squishy. He liked the feel of them, the tantalizing affection of her erect nipples cutting into his torso…
“Last time we met, you were just a boy… and now you’ve grown into an M-A-N.”
“And what…” Kon gritted out through his teeth, desperately trying to force his erection down with sheer will, “have you grown into?”
“Nothing, yet. A plant needs sunshine, does it not? Maybe under your… loving guidance, I could be something more than Prisoner 24601.”
“Nice try.”
The redhead brought her knee up gently to his crotch, just enough to rub his swollen balls. “Try? Success, is more like.”
Superboy grabbed her knee in both hands, holding it still. This prevented her from grinding against him further, but he still couldn’t let go of her leg. One of his fingers had slipped through a hole in the fabric and the fingertip, resting somewhere on her inner thigh, spoke to him of skin as soft as silk.
“And why should I get you off?” Kon asked, sadistically sending another euphoric heatwave rippling through her nubile body. She moaned and flushed once more, automatically trying to start the dry-hump over again before she remembered that he had her leg in a vice. “You’ve been nothing but trouble to me.”
“I helped you,” Knockout insisted, shifting her weight onto her “bad” leg. “So many villains, remember? The modern-day Bonnie & Clyde. I taught you how to fight, how to suffer…” Irresistibly, he had begun running his thumbs over her leg in tiny circles. She smiled slightly at the sensation, but didn’t favor him with an audible noise. “Taught you so many things…”
“About betrayal… and deception… and hurt…” he flexed his fingers against the underside of her leg, the digits biting into her flesh.
She gave him a coy smile. “You were such an eager learner, once. Unafraid of your own burgeoning potential…” Knockout let her gaze drift down to his hard-on. “So very bold… and yet now what do you do with that marvelous bit of cocksmanship? Wank off to Maxim? Such a waste…”
“Waste? You wanna talk about waste?” Kon pulled on her knee, slamming her against him. She was precariously balanced on her other leg; the one Kon was hanging onto extended horizontally between his legs, like the climax of a tango dance. “You could’ve been a hero. A champion. You could’ve been someone… to me. And instead you chose to be… what are you? Just another supervillain with delusions of grandeur?”
“I am power!” Knockout protested violently. He could feel her heart beating against his chest. “I am sex! I’m more than you could ever handle!”
“You’re a pathetic little girl who’d rather pretend to be a psycho than let someone in.”
“Pretend? I never cared about you! You were just a means to an end, a way to pass the time until something better came along.”
“And you were my first.” Kon’s hands moved up her leg, past her garter belt, finally flowing under her buttocks and the rounded half-moons of her ass. “We could’ve had something special.”
She felt his fingers descend into her cleft. “We still could.” Superboy’s fingernails dug into her ass, pressing her so hard against him that Knockout felt for sure that they were merging, becoming one. “I missed you. I thought of you.”
“I thought about you too,” Kon said as his tactile telekinesis entered her, filtering down from lightly brushing against her skin to a deep-tissue massage. Knockout felt all the tension ebb out of her body and felt certain that at some point she had an orgasm, although she would be hard pressed to pick it out of the continuous rhythm they had established.
Sometime after the sunset, they found themselves kneeling against each other, her chin resting on his head, his nose buried in her clavicle.
“Does this mean we can’t fight anymore?” Knockout asked with equal parts hope and despondency.
Kon considered it for a moment before tapping her restraints. The manacles clicked and fell from her hands. “I hope so.”
“Did you mean what you said? About having something special? Thinking about me?”
He simply nodded, too lost in the sound of the tide to answer with words.
“I’m going to regret this,” Knockout muttered to herself as she picked the manacles up and put them back on… only one loop, leaving the chain hanging off her left wrist.
“Now you want to go back to jail? I thought you wanted to be free.”
“I do. Which is why you’re going to get me out of there… nice and legal.”
A trace of Kon’s old belligerence overcame him. “And why would I do that?”
“So I can do this,” Knockout said, unzipping her jumpsuit…
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Date: 2010-03-26 05:52 pm (UTC)