This is a (very short) birthday fic for my dear friend folc4evernaday. Happy Birthday!
It's set during PML, just after Lois finishes her 'Dance of the Seven Veils', and it was inspired by the song 'Mercy' by Duffy, which has been stuck in my head for weeks now.
Disclaimer: All recognisable characters, plots etc. are property of Warner Bros., DC Comics and December 3rd Productions. I'm just trying to do something nice for a friend
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This is torture.
Lois Lane is in my bed, wearing an outfit so skimpy that even Cat Grant would blanch at wearing it in public.
Waiting for me.
She wants me. Not Superman, but Clark Kent. It’s like every dream, every fantasy come true- except for one thing.
The perfume.
Every fibre of my being is screaming for me to go in there, to take advantage of the situation, and I know that if I’d been affected by the perfume as well, I wouldn’t hesitate. I want to kiss her, to touch her, to be with her…
But that’s exactly what it would be. Taking advantage.
Lois is, for all intents and purposes, drugged. In her right mind, she wouldn’t contemplate acting this way. And there’s no way she’d contemplate any sort of romantic or sexual relationship with Clark Kent. Unfortunately for me, she’s made that perfectly plain.
I’ve gone over a hundred different scenarios in my head, trying to justify acting on pure primal instinct. I’ve even thought about telling her I’m Superman, knowing that that is about the only way she’d accept Clark Kent into her bed when she’s sober. I keep hoping to hear someone screaming for Superman so I can escape into the cold night air, but for once Metropolis is quiet.
There’s only one thing keeping me out of that bedroom. My morals. And they are fast losing the battle with my biology.
If this strange drugged perfume doesn’t wear off soon, I’m going to be in a world of trouble.
