scribblinlenore | Thank you to everyone who voted in the poll!

But, finally, how could I resist my own unconscious? *g* And the dream had already half written it for me anyway.

I do plan to work on more Hooker!Clark over the weekend, btw.

***

Put a Sock on It
by Lenore

There were days when Tom really thought his life would be easier if he'd just stayed a model. The hours were better. There was no memorization required. And the only thing on the minds of the people at his photo shoots was: are these clothes going to sell? He could spend the day half naked, and it never occurred to him to be the least bit self-conscious.

Shooting a nude scene for television, on the other hand, was seriously freaking him out.

This whole business with the "modesty sock" was not helping matters. It was like a big rubber band that he was supposed to shove his-- With strings he was supposed to tie behind his-- God. It was really just one big willy-warmer, and he was going to have to wear it. In front of people. God. He was going to die of humiliation.

He sighed heavily and opened his jeans. It wasn't as if he had a choice, though. This was standard issue in the industry, and if his sockless anatomy got anywhere near Kristen, he'd never hear the end of it.

"Hey, you busy?" a voice called from behind him.

He whirled around, practically jumping out of his skin. Michael stood inside the door of his trailer, smiling like the proverbial canary-eating cat. Tom could just imagine why. He was half hanging out of his jeans, holding the embarrassing sock thingy in his hand, probably turning ten shades of red. He swore Michael went to some ninja training school where he honed the skill of sneaking up on his co-stars at the worst possible moment.

"You ever heard of knocking?" he snapped.

Michael screwed up his face as if searching his memory, putting on one of his goofier expressions, and despite Tom's best efforts, he couldn't help laughing.

Michael flopped onto the couch, looking pleased with himself. "So what'cha up to?"

"I'm trying to get ready for my scene. So if you don't mind--" He made a shooing gesture.

Michael waggled his eyebrows. "Your first skinnydipping scene. Our little Tommy is all grown up now."

"Don't make me have to hit you."

Mike laughed. "Senseless violence is never the answer, my friend. And you don't want to do something so un-Clark-like this close to shooting. It'll take you out of character."

"Please. Clark has hit Lex before. And I'm sure he'll do it again."

"But did he enjoy it?" Michael shook his head. "I mean, we all know what Clark really wants to do to Lex." He leered, and Tom felt his face go hot. "Hey, don't you wish it was Lex and Clark skinnydipping? Now that would be some interesting television."

"You know, if you're not going to be helpful then--" He jerked his head toward the door.

"Who said I'm not here to help? I live to help. That's something people always say about me. 'Dude, he's like so helpful'." Michael smiled charmingly.

Tom sighed. "I really don't have time for--"

Michael bounded up from the couch and took the sock from him. "So you know what to do with this, right?"

Tom snatched it back from him. "Yes," he said, rather offended.

Mike might have more acting experience than he did, but he could certainly handle shoving his dick into a hole. Um-- Okay. Not the best way to put that, but still.

Michael shrugged. "You did say I should make myself helpful."

Tom sighed. "I should have just asked for the damned body double like I did the last time."

The only reason he hadn't was because of a conversation he'd had with Michael about the human body as the instrument of actorly craft. Michael had been so cavalier in his stand on doing nude scenes. If it had been anyone else, Tom would have thought he was full of bullshit. But this was Michael, and Tom had no doubt he would, in fact, happily prance around in front of God and everyone wearing nothing but a sock on his dick. Tom had taken that as some kind of weird challenge, not that Michael ever needed to know this.

Although by the way he was grinning, he seemed to have an idea.

Mike leaned in and whispered against his ear, "I'd be more than happy to give you some pointers about--" He glanced down at Tom's open jeans. "You know, how to handle things when you're doing your scene."

It was Michael's slinky voice, the one Lex used when he was plotting world domination and Mike put to work picking up chicks. It rattled along Tom's nerve endings, sending a rush of heat into his belly, making his cock stand up and take notice. Apparently, the Voice worked on guys, too. Damn Michael and his omni-sexuality anyway. This was so not what he needed right now.

"Come on, Mike. Don't do this to me."

This particular game got old even on a good day, the outrageous flirting and intimate little touches and all the hinting of more to come that never, ever led anywhere, no matter how often Tom talked about what an open marriage he and Jaimie had. Michael could be an annoying little cocktease.

And today, apparently, was not going to be any different.

Michael gave him one of those looks like he was imagining him with his clothes off. "So you know what the sock is for. But do you know what no one ever bothers to tell you?" His voice went low and conspiratorial. "It only helps discourage embarrassing incidents. It can't prevent them entirely." He winked.

Tom groaned. "Just for the record? You are so not helping me."

"Hey, give me a chance." He moved suddenly--Michael was a hell of a sneaky bastard--so that he was standing behind Tom, pressed up against him. "I'm just getting started."

His breath was hot against Tom's ear, tickling him, making his cock jerk at the sensation. "I do not need you fucking teasing me today, Michael."

Michael pressed a kiss to his temple. "Who said anything about teasing?" He pushed Tom's shirt out of the way and rested his hand on his side, just above his hip, lightly stroking the bare skin there.

Tom sucked in his breath. "God." He was starting to feel dizzy.

Michael's hand moved in circles, inching toward his belly. "You know what the best approach is when you have to do a nude scene?" His hand strayed lower. "Prepare the old-fashioned way." His fingers dipped inside Tom's open jeans, flirting with the elastic of his briefs. "Take care of yourself beforehand."

Michael's fingers closed around his erection, short-circuiting every pleasure center in his brain. "Fuck!"

He felt Michael's smile against the side of his face. "Next time maybe. Right now I'm just going to get you off."

Tom made a whimpering sound that was really rather embarrassing, but God! Michael's hand. On his dick. Tom clutched the sock convulsively. His other hand hovered over Michael's.

"Yeah, yeah," Michael said, his voice low and rough. "Show me what you like, Tommy."

It was all the encouragement he needed. He laid his hand on Michael's and guided him, showing him the stroke and the rhythm and all the hot spots that made his eyes roll back in his head.

"You are so fucking gorgeous, Tommy," Mike muttered thickly under his breath. "You're going to make those people watching at home burst into fucking flames."

"Mike!" He could feel Michael's erection pressed against his ass, and he arched back, rubbing against him.

Michael sucked in his breath. "Shit!" And started to jerk him harder, faster.

The room began to spin. His skin was too hot, and his knees felt like they were going to give out. And then he was going off in Michael's hand like he hadn't come in decades. Michael stroked him through his orgasm and held him up while he remembered how to breathe.

"You okay, Tommy?"

If he hadn't been so out of breath, he would have laughed. Michael just blew the top off his head with one of the most intense orgasms of his life, and he wanted to know if he was okay. Really, it was quite funny.

He turned around in Michael's arms. "Here. Let me--" He pressed his hand against Michael's erection, stroking him through his pants.

But Michael pushed his hand away. "This is about me helping you, remember?"

"Mike--"

Michael smiled and darted in for a kiss. Tom sighed and opened his mouth, and then Mike's tongue was frolicking with his. "Next time it'll be about you blowing me until I'm crying like a little girl. How about that?" He smiled and pushed a lock of Tom's hair behind his ear, his eyes warm with affection.

Tom grinned. "I'll see what I can do."

Mike gave him another kiss. "You better finish getting ready." He headed for the door. "Break a leg."

"Um-- You're not going to, like, watch. Are you?"

Michael turned, his eyes dancing with amusement, obviously ready to make a joke, but when he saw Tom's distress, his expression grew serious. "Not if it makes you uncomfortable."

"It's not that. It's just-- If I'm thinking about you--" He ducked his head.

Michael smiled softly. "Then I'll stay away. I promise. But you owe me. I know a place where we can go swimming, very private, and I'll expect you to act out the entire scene for me." His eyes sparkled. "You know, so I can admire your technique."

Tom smiled back. "Deal."

Michael opened the door. "Oh, and one more thing. Make sure none of you touches any of Kristen, 'cause you know you'll never hear the end of it." He grinned devilishly and let the door slam behind him.

Tom shook his head. He wasn't quite sure what he'd just gotten himself into, but at the very least, it should prove interesting. And, hey, the nude scene didn't seem like such a big deal anymore. Michael had, indeed, been helpful--in more ways than one.

***

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

theatlien.livejournal.com

EEE!!! It was hot and funny.

From:

Not a homecoming queen

Thank you to everyone who voted in the poll!

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