Hancock/Smallville: Move Bitch (MM,inter)
by The Fan

Boredom never killed anybody. Because if it had, Clark Kent would be dead. The young man lay on his bed, somewhere in the Kent farm. By all appearances, he was a six-foot-two, lean, black-haired and blue-eyed Caucasian male in his early twenties. No one would ever guess he was much more than that. For he was one of the few remaining members of the human-like alien species from Krypton. The race of the Kryptonians. They looked like ordinary people. They were male and female, Black, White, Middle-Eastern, Asian and Latino. Yet they were much older than humanity. When humans had yet to evolve, the men and women of the Kryptonian species were soaring through the cosmos on spaceships. Unfortunately, their technological prowess proved to be their undoing.

And now Clark Kent was the last Kryptonian left on the planet Earth. There were only a few people he trusted with his secret. People like Victor Stone, the African-American football player who later became Cyborg, a bio-mechanical wonder and wandering superhero. Oliver Queen, the billionaire playboy better known as the Green Arrow. The Black Canary, a spunky blonde with an attitude and a voice from hell. Arthur Curry, the amphibian superhero better known as Aqua-Man. Bart Allen, the Scarlet Speedster. And of course John Jones, the tall black male police officer better known as the Martian Man-Hunter. And last but not least, his lifelong buddy Chloe Sullivan, better known as Oracle. Together, they formed the Justice League. A band of crusading superheroes out to save the world from peril.

Clark Kent was so deep in thought he didn't even sense the tall, handsome black man who knocked on his door. He got up, and went to see who it was. At first glance, he thought it was his good friend John Jones. But no. It wasn't the Martian Man-Hunter. The Martian superhero lost his powers when he saved Clark Kent's life after Clark got injured. The tall, handsome black man looked Clark up and down. Clark said hello, and asked how he could help him. The man introduced himself as Hancock, and claimed to be a good friend of John Jones, the Martian Man-Hunter. Apparently, they hailed from the same planet. Clark Kent's eyes widened. Hancock smiled, and asked to be let in. Clark nodded, and Hancock stepped into the Kent family living room. Hancock sat on the couch, and asked Clark for a beer. Clark told him he didn't drink alcohol, but had some orange juice. Hancock shrugged and said he'd drink some orange juice if possible. Clark nodded, then the two of them had a talk.

Hancock told Clark Kent about his life in Los Angeles. He'd been battling criminals all over the city. And briefly, he lost his powers and nearly died when he was ambushed at a hospital by his enemies. He regained his powers, and thought about visiting an old friend. Hancock and John Jones went way back. They were the last living members of the Martian race. The only female Martian left in the cosmos was Mary Embry, who was married to Hancock's friend Ray Embry. Hancock had a serious Jones for Mary Embry. Thousands of years ago, they were lovers. Unfortunately, she moved on and so did he, in the end.

Clark looked at Hancock as he talked. He could totally relate to the guy. Clark had heard of Hancock, the tall black male superhero whom the people of Los Angeles had a love-hate relationship with. Oliver Queen thought about recruiting Hancock into the Justice League but half the League's members vehemently protested. They thought Hancock was too much of a troublemaker. He was powerful, sure. He had the standard Martian powers such as superhuman strength, invulnerability and flight. However, he also had a bad attitude. Clark didn't think the handsome black superhero was that bad. Hancock seemed like an okay guy. The two of them sat on the couch, trading war stories.

They had a lot in common. For a long time, Hancock thought he was the only superhuman in the world. He had forgotten who he was, having been alive for untold thousands of years. He protected the city of Los Angeles from criminals, gangsters and evildoers but they didn't appreciate his hard work. And he fell into drunkenness. Being a homeless, foul-mouthed superhero didn't endear him to the American public. They called him an asshole so much, many people thought it was his nickname. Yeah, Hancock had been through hell and back. Now he was just starting to put his life back together. He was going on a world tour, fighting crime all over the planet in an effort to endear him to the public once more.

Clark smiled, and told Hancock he wasn't too keen on the idea of a superhero trying to gain public admiration. Clark had been in the public eye before. He'd revealed himself as an alien superhero with extraordinary powers who chose to help mankind. At first, people admired him. Then a certain evil blonde chick turned the public against him. Luckily, a certain time-travel ring enabled him to undo his mistake and defeat his manipulative enemy. Clark was all for helping people but he didn't want them to know too much about him. He knew how quickly the American public could turn against the men and women they admired whether they were sports stars, politicians, war heroes or entertainers.

Hancock nodded at that. He looked at Clark and shook his head. He was beginning to see what Hancock saw in the Last Son of Krypton. Hancock had never met a person from Krypton before. John Jones had dealt with many of them. According to him, they were a proud, stoic and ambitious bunch. Most of them were interstellar imperialists. All except Kal-El and Jor-El. The only people among the legendary Kryptonians to whom the Martian Man-Hunter ever showed allegiance. John Jones considered people from Krypton to be dicks and bitches except for Kal-El and Jor-El. Jones word was good enough for Hancock. So he agreed to temporarily look after Clark Kent until Jones regained his powers. Hancock didn't really feel like baby-sitting the alien but he and Jones went way back. So he'd do what he could.

That night, Hancock and Clark Kent went out for a 'fly by' over the streets of Metropolis. They checked out Bad Billy's, an establishment which turned out to be a gay bar. Hancock finally convinced Clark Kent to have a drink, and one thing led to another. One moment, Clark was drinking and laughing with Hancock, the next he was making out with the handsome black man. Hancock was quite surprised at Clark's apparent queerness. All evening the young Superman had been babbling about the women in his life. From bitchy Lois Lane to hot-tempered Lana Lang and sweet Chloe Sullivan. Hancock knew he was compensating for something. Apparently, Clark was bisexual. That's cool. Because Hancock swung every which way.

They got it on in the men's room. Hancock leaned against the wall and unzipped his pants, letting Clark feast his eyes on his ten-inch, uncircumcised rod of power. Clark's eyes widened when he saw the black man's super-sized dick. Eagerly, he knelt before Hancock and began sucking his dick. Hancock grabbed the back of Clark's neck as the young man sucked his dick. Clark sucked him until he was hard, then begged Hancock to fuck him in the ass. Hancock didn't need to be told twice. He bent Clark over and shoved his dick up his ass. Clark squealed as Hancock began pounding him in the butt. Hancock smacked the white guy's ass while happily sodomizing him. Hancock loved fucking both women and men in the ass. He happily sodomized Mary Embry, his favorite bitchy blonde, before leaving Los Angeles. She desperately needed it. Anyone who knew her could see that. And now he was fucking the once and future Superman. He pumped his dick up the guy's ass until he came. Clark squealed as Hancock's cum flooded his asshole. After Hancock pulled his cock out of Clark's ass, he made the fruity white boy lick his dick. And Clark did it. He gave the tall black man's dick a long lick. He did everything he was told. Just like the bitch he was. Hancock gave Clark's ass a good smack. He knew then they were going to get along famously.


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