Kyle Rayner and Connor Hawke had entered the bedroom five minutes ago. They had yet to actually make it to the bed. This was mainly due to their inability to untangle themselves from each other long enough to move, or even think about it...
"Mmm," Kyle muttered, "I really missed you, Conn--" he gulped suddenly-- "especially...when you do...that..."
Connor smirked, then reluctantly removed his hands from the area they'd been exploring. "We should stop for a minute--we're never going to get to the bed at this rate..."
"Hey, beds...are overrated..." He proceeded to demonstrate, and Connor's breath came faster...
"...look at *that*..."
It took a moment for the sound to penetrate Connor's clouded brain, but when it did, he froze. Had he heard--whispering? Maybe he'd imagined it. He tried to ignore the considerable distraction of Kyle's mouth on his skin and listened...
*rustle* *murmur* *rustle*
Connor froze. He hadn't imagined it. "Kyle," he hissed, "I think there might be a supervillain in the closet."
"Mmm," Kyle murmured absently, not removing his attention from what he was doing. "That's probably for the best, they'd make lousy role models..."
"Kyle, I'm serious."
"Me too. I'm serious about having sex with you, and I'm a lot more interested in that than in the sexual preferences of supervillains." In demonstration, he straightened back up and captured Connor's mouth in a kiss, and the blond's mind went temporarily blank before he could remember what he'd been about to say.
"I--" he tried to get his breath back, not to mention his higher brain functions-- "I don't mean in *the* closet. I mean, in *our* closet."
"We don't *have* a closet. We never had a closet. And if we did have a closet..." he kissed Connor again, lightly this time, "...I wouldn't share it. Especially with a supervillain."
Connor wriggled free of Kyle's touch, trying desperately not to get distracted. "*Kyle*. The *closet*. With *clothes*."
Kyle's eyes widened. "Oh. *That* closet."
"That closet," Connor agreed. "I thought I heard somebody in there."
Kyle frowned. "Are you sure? I didn't hear anything."
Connor raised one blond eyebrow. "Maybe because you were paying attention to something else?"
"And you weren't? I must not be doing this right. Maybe if I try again..."
"Kyle, the closet?"
"Oh c'mon, why would there be a supervillain in our closet? You're probably just edgy. Maybe this'll help..." The third kiss was slow and thorough, and as Kyle deepened it, for a moment Connor forgot not only the closet but everything else, including his name--
*THUD*
"Kyle."
"Can't we just pretend we didn't hear it?" Kyle asked hopefully.
"I wouldn't recommend it..."
The dark-haired man sighed. "I know, I know..." He muttered something else under his breath in what sounded like Gaelic; Connor didn't think he needed a translation to get the idea. The two of them stepped apart, Connor taking a combat-ready stance and Kyle's ring beginning to glow. "Okay, we know you're in there. Come on out so we can have the fight and get back to what we were doing--"
There was a brief pause, and then a female voice came from the closet. "We don't want to interrupt, really... You could just skip the fight and get back to it, that'd be fine with us."
Kyle looked briefly tempted, but then shook his head. "Out," he said firmly.
The closet door opened, and two faintly embarrassed-looking women came out. They weren't wearing costumes or carrying weaponry, although they *were* holding...notebooks? Connor blinked. That was a new one... "I *told* you they were going to hear us," one of them said.
"Well, they wouldn't have if you hadn't pushed me."
"Hey, you were hogging the keyhole...."
"Do you have any idea how long I've been stuck on this *$#@!#( breakup story? I needed this..."
Kyle glanced at Connor. "Well, they don't *look* like supervillains..."
"Maybe they're in disguise," Connor suggested. "Or maybe they're unarmed combat experts...or..." he glanced at the notebooks again... "Spies?"
The second woman looked thoughtful. "Spies...there's an idea..."
The first woman rolled her eyes. "You need a vacation."
"Well...yes," the second woman admitted. Then she grinned. "But still...getting paid? For watching our characters do...everything? It has possibilities."
The first woman sighed. "'Rith. Superheroes? Trespassing? Maybe we shouldn't give them the wrong idea."
The second woman paused. "Okay, good point..."
"So you're not supervillains?" Kyle questioned.
The first woman shuddered. "Ick. No. We're Writers."
Kyle and Connor exchanged glances. "I think I'd rather have the supervillains," Kyle muttered.
"Well...they're not *that* bad....sometimes..."
"Yeah, right. You can say that. *You've* never been mangled in a meat grinder, run over by a train, and then eaten by rats."
Connor shrugged. "Hal fans. They get frustrated sometimes."
"Can't they work it out some other way? It's not *my* fault..." He glared at the two women. "Is that why you're here?"
Both Writers shook their heads vigorously. "No!" the first one protested. "Nothing like that! We just..." she paused, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks, "...wanted to watch."
Connor's skin darkened with the same blush. "Watch? You mean...us? Doing..." They nodded.
Kyle laughed quietly, and shrugged at Connor's questioning look. "Hey, they've got good taste..."
The second woman smirked. "It's all *your* Writer's fault. She makes you all sweet and mooky. And--" she glared at the ceiling-- "she doesn't write *enough* of it...so we just thought we'd eavesdrop a little."
"So you're not here to *do* anything?" Connor asked, still fighting the blush. "No bad guys? No terminal illnesses?"
"Absolutely none," the second woman confirmed.
Kyle's eyes narrowed. "Waitasec, I know you. Jade, right? You're the one who's breaking up Dick and Garth over in your series!" The second woman flinched guiltily. He half-turned to Connor. "They've got this great thing going, and *she*--" he pointed-- "is going to have Dick throw him over for Azrael! You know, the wannabe Batman nutcase?"
"It's not my fault!" the woman wailed. "Dick has issues! I didn't *want* to break 'em up, I swear! And they're going to get back together! Really! And--and--I hate this part of the story--and--" The first woman moved closer and put one reassuring arm around her, glaring at Kyle.
"Kyle," Connor said pointedly.
Kyle sighed. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. But you're *sure* you're not here to do anything like *that*?"
"*No!* I *couldn't*, even, I'm not your Writer--and anyway she's a *lot* worse than I am, you should see some of the ideas--" the first woman elbowed her in the ribs, and she paused. "Uh, I mean, no, I'm not. Really. I just wanted to see some sweet, nonangsty sex to counteract this pit of angst my guys are stuck in right now."
Kyle thought about that for a few seconds. "Okay."
Connor's eyes widened as his partner started dragging him over to the bed. "*Kyle*--"
"Connor. I've had to save the world thirty-two times in the last two weeks, and I've haven't seen you once all that time. I want you, *now*, and I don't care if the entire starting lineup of the Yankees wants to watch. Okay?" He didn't wait for an answer, and in the moment before Connor stopped caring about anything but the feel of Kyle's body on his, he thought he could hear the skritch of pencils on notepaper.
.--------
{end}