This is in response to the Dailiness of Life fanfic challenge proposed by LauraBF.
AND - with this little story, I've just hit the big 100 posts and am now officially a Kerth member. Yay!
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of DC Comics and Warner Brothers. I'm sure someone owns the rights to Linens N' Things as it's a pretty big store chain around Chicago, so I give them their due credit. No intention to infringe upon anyone's copyrights.
Linens N' Things
By Lynn M.
“It’s your turn,” Lois stated as she tossed the freshly laundered sheets toward Clark.
He glanced away from the football game just in time to keep the neatly folded linens from hitting him in the face. “My turn?”
“Yep. I clearly remember last Saturday you promised me that you’d change the sheets this week if I let you go play pickup with Jimmy. So fork it over, baby, it’s pay-up time.”
Clark rolled his eyes. “C’mon Lois. I’m watching the Bills Dolphins game. Bills are down by three. On Miami’s thirty yard line.”
“Tough luck mister. I took up your slack last week.”
He stood slowly, clutching the sheets to his chest. As he walked past her, he gave her a nefarious grin. “No biggie. I’ll have this done before the commercial break runs out.”
“Uh-unh. No way.” She lifted a finger and waggled it at him disapprovingly. “Super-powers are off limits.”
“Lo-is.”
“Claaark,” she mimicked his whine. “Remember our deal. If you’re going to use super-powers, then there’s absolutely no point in my doing any chores around this place. If I have to suffer, so do you. Fair's fair.”
“Well, what are you going to do?” He glanced longingly at the television, his eyebrows lifting hopefully.
“I dunno.” She plopped down in an overstuffed chair, swinging her legs over its arm. With a sweet smile, she reached across to grab a magazine from the coffee table and flipped it open. “Catch up on some reading, maybe.”
He trudged up the stairs, sighing dramatically with each step. Lois waited only long enough for him to disappear into the bedroom before tiptoeing after him. She leaned against the wall next to the door frame, just enough out of site that he couldn’t see her. She wasn’t there because she didn’t trust him. She was there to enjoy the show.
First, Clark pulled off the coverlet and blanket, letting them fall in a heap on the floor. Tugging the top sheet out from under the end of the mattress, he tossed it into the center of the bed. Then he stripped the pillowcases off the pillows, frowning at the towering pile. Unhooking the bottom sheet from the corners of the mattress, he balled the entire mass of dirty sheets and dumped it into the laundry hamper.
Lois smiled. Now came the best part.
He spread the clean fitted sheet over the quilted mattress pad. Just as he had three of the elasticized corners secured, his gentle tug to stretch the sheet over the fourth corner sent the one diagonally across from it flying. He grumbled, stretching to the maximum length of his arm span as he tried to reach the two stubborn corners simultaneously.
Lois’s stomach clenched as his efforts pulled his muscles taught, sinew and skin stretching over the bulging strength that could bend steel bars and crush granite to dust. His sleeveless tee shirt and loose jersey shorts allowed her to appreciate every ripple and flex, and she felt her breath catch in her throat as he moved gracefully over the bed, smoothing the smallest wrinkles beneath his hand. Suddenly, she wished she were the sheet.
As he straightened up, his wrestling match with the fitted sheet a victory, she stepped back, not wanting him to know that she watched. At least not yet.
With a sharp snap, he lifted the top sheet and sent it sailing wide and flat to come wafting down in a perfect plane on top of the mattress. Only minor adjustments were needed to properly center it, and the blanket was retrieved from the pile on the floor. It followed the same pattern as the sheet, and he tucked the bottom ends of both sheet and blanket under the foot end of the mattress.
His next step made her smile. Lifting the side of the sheet and blanket at the bed's end and allowing it to form a triangle on top of the mattress, he tucked it in with exact precision, making a perfect hospital corner. He moved around to make neat work of the opposite side of the bed, his mouth pulled up into a pleased grin as he eyed his handiwork.
An odd warmth flooded through her. After marrying him, it was learning little things like this that had thrilled her. The intimacy of knowing that he liked hospital corners, something so minor yet so personal, cemented the bond between them.
Satisfied with the base he’d made, the cream matelasse coverlet was quickly added. Then he began the process of stuffing all of the pillows into clean pillowcases.
After he’d placed all but the last two pillows neatly at the head of the bed, Lois tiptoed into the room. She scooped one of the remaining pillows from the floor, and pulling her arms back, she swung directly at the spot between his broad shoulders.
Clark, unprepared for the force inflicted by his pillow-wielding wife, toppled face forward on to the bed. He laughed appreciatively as he flipped to his back. Lois moved to stand between his legs, lifting the pillow high in readiness. Before she could lower it, his arm snaked around her waist and he pulled her, laughing, down against his chest.
“Sneaking up is definitely unfair,” he teased.
“Oh, yeah?” she goaded. “And just what are you going to do about it?”
His thick eyebrows lifted in response to her challenge, his dark brown eyes gleaming with mischief. Before she could protest, he’d reversed their positions, pinning her firmly to the bed as his fingers tickled her mercilessly. Tears streamed down her face as she called for him to stop, her own effort to return the exquisite torture neatly dodged as he gained the upperhand. With a deep laugh, he dipped down, capturing her lips with a playful kiss.
She grinned against his lips, lifting her head up for another kiss. Then another. The tickling quickly became caressing, laughter replaced with low moans as their game took a new direction. All thoughts of retaliation and revenge were swiftly redirected to other pleasures and sensations.
“What about the game?” she asked with a giggle as he nuzzled the side of her cheek and worked his way down her jaw.
“What game?” he mumbled, throroughly distracted with the business of exploring the curves and hollows of her neck.
“Bills. Dolphins. Thirty yard line.” The reminder was more of a gasp as his tongue made contact with the sensitive skin just below her ear.
He lifted his head just long enough to give her a wicked smile. “I’d rather help you with the chores.”
His mouth returned to its quest along the side of her neck as his hands began to explore other parts of her anatomy. She squirmed with delight, feeling the coverlet bunch beneath her back. “Hey, you just made the bed. And it looks so pretty. Shame to mess it up.”
It was said without any true conviction, and if he stopped, she’d complain loudly. But to his credit, Clark seemed to care little that what they were doing, or about to do, would make pointless all of his hard work.
“Not a problem,” he murmured.
He wrapped his arms tightly around her, and she felt the cool rush of air beneath her back as they floated several inches above the bed.
“Cheater,” she teased.
“You betcha!” he chuckled, then captured her lips beneath his own.
She sighed. Nothing like changing the sheets with Clark.
