Date: Fri, 26 Feb 2010 17:55:49 -0700
From: Brotha-Man Black <brothamanblack77@gmail.com>
Subject: Green Lantern 2814.2: Monitor Duty

Green Lantern 2814.2: Monitor Duty

Author's Notes: The following is a work of fiction.  The characters
involved are not real and are the property of DC Comics.  I am using them
without permission and am not making any money from this work.

The heroes in this story are not using condoms, but one is likely immune to
earthly disease, the other is in procession of a magical ring that can warn
him of earthly disease; both would tell you to wrap it up.  Use a condom
during sex, every time.

This story was inspired by a comic book storyline called Pain of the Gods.
( JLA issues #101 - #106. )  This is a standalone story and the reader need
not read the above comics to understand the following story.  I think Pain
of the Gods is, nonetheless an excellent tale that does a lot to humanize a
group of heroes that some in the DC Universe worship.  Literally.  Please
feel free to achieve this story if you'd like.  I'd ask that you e-mail me
to tell me where it is going.  Constructive Criticism is appreciated.  My
e-mail address is below.  Thank you.

Brotha-Man Black BrothaManBlack77@gmail.com


Green light flickered over the brown face of John Stewart, former United
States Marine and currently, the only member of the Justice League present
in the satellite base, Watchtower.  Forty feet aloft the Operations Deck,
The Green Lantern of space sector 2814.2 searched flickering holographic
monitors with quick jade eyes.

Quantum Computers collected, analyzed, translated and displayed news feeds
from across the globe, even as it monitored the internet and World Wide Web
for global emergencies which might require Justice League intervention.

John has always hated Monitor Duty, even as a marine, it was the worst part
of the job.  That's saying a lot for a former Military Police Officer and
Investigator.  Even now, it bought back recollections of cold nights in a
lonely guard shack and bad coffee.

He gave a short ironic laugh.  The Watchtower had to be the world's largest
guard shack.  Because the Automated Food Dispensers were damaged in the
League's last brawl - suitably of global proportions - the "coffee" it
produced was not fit for a War Criminal ? Not even a war criminal with the
last name Bush.  The Operations deck was always cold, he'd seen to that
personally when Diana and he'd engineered the satellite base.  Some of the
computers on board were worth billions of dollars a piece.  "They do not
mix well with heat of any kind."  That was Doctor John Iron's stern warning
during the Watchtower's construction.

John had never stropped being a trooper or a cop, he thought looking a the
emerald-colored ring on his finger.  Good cops and good troops were were
all willpower; but man what he wouldn't give for number two on the
Starbucks menu.  A Mint Mocha-chino Latte, extra hot, with extra form.
Made of skim milk, of course, he was still watching his washboard abdomen.

Starbucks is a guilty pleasure he'd die before telling anyone in the League
about, though he suspected the Bat already knew.  What didn't Bruce know?
Nonetheless, he'd fight the Anti-monitor single-handed before he let word
get out to the rest of the League.  The went double for the Flash.  If
Wally ever found out that the hard-ass, former drill sergeant was a
Starbucks fiend, John would have to trick him into an airlock to get the
teasing stropped ?

A large holographic monitor flickered to get John's attention.

Caller: Clark Kent Location: Metropolis, Delaware, United States

Tapping the small chrome Blue-Tooth-like device in his right ear, John
opened the secured line to Superman's Com-link.

"Watchtower."  John barked.

"Watchtower, this is Big Blue, I'm teleporting up."

"Big B - " The com-link was closed before John could complete a thought.

John tapped a few buttons on the armrest of chair supported on hydraulic
arm comprising the Monitor Womb and was lowered to the Operations Deck.
Looking over the railing and across the deck, to the Teleportor platform,
John watched energy streams reconstitute themselves into matter.

The form of Superman was visible for the blink of an eye, followed by a
blinding streak of primary colors and the Man of Steel simply appear on the
other side of the railing, facing John.  Superman's bulging bicep was
extended in offering.  The green Starbucks label faced John and his green
eyes meet bright blue eyes.

Grunting what might have been thanks, John accepted the cup from Clark's
hand.  His fingers brushed hands of steel as he did.  Taking a sip, John's
formerly dormant green eyes flashed nuclear bright for a moment before
settling to a warm jade glow.

"I knew when you showed up this morning with traces of it on your breath."
Superman gave a warm, sunny smile.  John had taken time to stop by his
quarter on the Watchtower to brush and flash before he'd assumed duty.  But
this WAS Superman.  He'd put a bloodhound to shame.  "Your secret," Clark
said with TOO much laughter in his eyes and a grave - even solemn
expression on his face, "is safe with me."

"And? ..."  John asked, wanting to take the laughter away.

"I won't tell Wally."

Nodding once, with another grunt of thanks, John upended the cup to take a
long draft of the brew.  He noticed the peals of hysterical laughter in the
ocean that was Superman's eyes as he did.  The open smile on Clark's face
was the only think holding back that oh-so-easy laugh.

The Man of Steel's laugh was open and friendly.  John had to admit to
himself that he liked Clark's laugh a lot.  Reminding himself to keep his
eyes on Clark's eyes the two sat down at neighboring workstations.

"I thought you might need some company.  I know how lonely it gets here."

John cocked a eyebrow to Big Blue.  He was right of course.  Surrounded by
shining chrome and the cold, indifferent light of star that were many light
years away, that Watchtower felt like a cold, sterile tomb when it was
empty.  Even the lighting was antiseptic.

"John, come back to me."

Looking into those bight blue eyes, John felt some of the chill slink away
from his bones.  Thoughts of a resent incident: a woman whom he'd been too
late to save from being stabbed to death ?

Clark was standing over him, offing his hand.

When John to Clark's hand, John was pulled to his feet and into the arms of
steel.

Burring his face in Superman's cloak, John forced back a sob, but inhaled
deeply of all that sunny cheer.  Everything he was is consisted of will.
That's what made a Green Lantern.  With ever fiber of his being he fought
off the urge to sob.  He would not loose control again.

"John, it's okay.  It gets better, I promise.  Look at me John."

When green meet blue again, there was heat in John Stewart.  The skintight
body suit would have done nothing to hide that heat, even if he were not
crushed to the Man of Steels unyielding body.  John tried to pull away and
was held fast.

Leaning, Superman's kissed his friend deeply, and an inferno engulfed
John's soul.  He kissed back, and it was sloppy.  He recalled Superman
coming to him when he most needed it.  Now, Superman was doing it again.
Superman was saving him.

John reached for his will, slowing the kiss, putting a fraction of the heat
Clark had ignited in his cold soul into that kiss.  He could feel Clark's
body and posture change.  John was feeling steel melt in his arms.  Clark's
body YEILDED.  It didn't just give, it hungered, it ? called to John.

John's hands explored a body of muscle that flexed and rippled under his
ministrations; Clark's dick was rock-hard.  John too Clark's shirt off.
John crushed himself to that heat again, necking with Superman.  His hot
tongue flitted over pink nipple, sucking at the one then the other.

A deep moan issued from deep in Superman's belly as John worked his way
down.

Undoing the belt, John let it clank to the deck, pull at the front of
Clark's tights.  Clark's throbbing member sprang out, bobbing in front of
John.  John took Clark into his mouth inch by inch.  Superman shivered when
all eight inches were in John mouth and down John through.  Swallowing on
Clark's dick, John felt that shiver wrack the steel-hard body again.
Superman repressed it, least it kill his friend.

Gently, John pushed his team mate backward into the waiting chair, as he
took Clark's boot's off before finally shucking the super-tights.  Again,
Clark was naked and in his arms.  With a thought, the Green Lantern
Uniform, which was an energy construct of his will vanished.

Clark removed John's white tank top and boxer shorts with the same care,
John had shown him.

The what against John's smooth brown skin was amazing.  Clark almost hated
to see the underwear go.

When Clark removed the boxers he found ten thick inches of dick in his
face.  Superman sucked Johns dick with the same exact muscle control that
prevented John from being shaken to piece a few minutes ago.  In the hot
depths of Clark's mouth, John's had dick reached full mass.  Ten and a half
thick inches of slipper wet dick was released from his mouth.

John pulled Superman to his feet again, tuning him around to face the
workstation console, he kicked Clark's feet apart, knelled, spread the
round muscular cheeks of his ass apart and delivered the first, slow hot
lick ?

The lick was slow, wet and feverishly hot.

Clark yelled.  John repeated himself only a little faster.  His tongue
sinking quickly into Clark's ass, John began to eat in earnest.  John's
tongue began to swirl, slipping ever deep inside of the olive-colored ass
he held.  Clark's body shook as he screamed.  Clark's wet insides tasted
like sunshine.  If sunshine - joy - had a taste, it would be the sound of
his friend screaming in ecstasy.  Standing up, John spit into his hand
wetting his dick, before pressing the head to Superman's hot, wet throbbing
hole.  His dick entered Clark's body the way a hot knife slips through
softened butter.  John's hands moved from his friend round muscled ass, to
his narrow waist.

The muscles in John's abdomen and ass worked as his hips grind around
Clark's intestines, seeking his prostate.  Finding it, John grind slowed.
The grinding motions of his hips became tight little circle on Clark's
prostate.

Clark shivered, shook, and moaned to John to not stop.  He wanted this
feeling to never stop.

The first full long stroke made Clark blast his pleasure through the
console, destroying a monitor as it went.  As John slowly pulled himself
out of Clark, The Man of Steel used the muscles of his anal ring.  Flexing
and releasing, milking John dick.  With a grunt, John pulled free, shooting
his load deep into his team mate and friend.

John released Clark's hips and he turned around in his arms to whisper in
his ear.

"Dr. Irons is NOT going to like this."