Staple (Clark/Jimmy, PG, Superman: Birthright)
Title: Staple
Author: Mimic
Characters/Pairings: Clark/Jimmy, well, it's implied, anyway.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't play for keeps. DC owns them.
Notes: For trascendenza's prompt. You don't have to kiss my feet, as there is no actual kissing involved in the fic.
Feedback: Please, thank you.
Word Count: 400
He spares a second’s glance across his desk, and ends up nearly jumping out of his skin at the sight of Mr. Kent right in front of him.
“Hi, Jim. Um, do you have a stapler I can borrow?” Mr. Kent fidgets with his tie, flushing. “Can’t for the life of me remember where I left mine.”
He laughs, mostly to shrug off the rest of the adrenaline pumping through his veins, and releases the death grip he has on his camera. “Sure, Mr. Kent. Boy you sure scared me for a moment there!”
He ducks his head, rummaging through his bottom drawer for his stapler, missing the deeper flush Mr. Kent gets, only hearing his stuttered apology. He straightens up laughing again, and hands Mr. Kent the stapler. Their fingers brush for just a second, which for some strange reason makes Jimmy’s heart leap harder than seeing Mr. Kent in the first place did. He clears his throat, and pulls away hastily.
“So, we haven’t really… I mean, er. How’re you liking the office?” It always takes him a moment to remember Mr. Kent is new around the place, he just blends in so darn well he can’t help but think the man’s been here as long as Ms. Lane, or the Chief.
Mr. Kent is staring intently at the stapler, and looks up startled at Jimmy’s question. “Oh! Well, gee Jim, it’s great, but I’m not used to the big city. There are so many people!”
There’s a look in Mr. Kent’s eyes when he says the last part, that makes Jimmy think he means something completely different.
Mr. Kent’s eyes are a really startling shade of blue, the kind that glasses don’t do a thing for.
He twists the focus on his camera, still clutched loosely in both of his hands, but doesn’t stray his eyes from Mr. Kent’s. “I’m sure you’ll get used to it.”
Mr. Kent chuckles, and Jimmy wants to grin just for the heck of it. “I’m not sure that’s possible, Jim.”
“Well, I’m always here to show you around, Mr. Kent. I mean --” He’s blushing, so it’s almost a relief when Mr. Kent interrupts him.
“I think I could use that offer, some time. Thanks for the stapler, anyway.”
He nods, smiling easily. “You’re welcome, Mr. Kent.”
Mr. Kent returns the smile, and pushes his glasses back up his nose with one finger. “Call me Clark, if you want.”
Author: Mimic
Characters/Pairings: Clark/Jimmy, well, it's implied, anyway.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't play for keeps. DC owns them.
Notes: For trascendenza's prompt. You don't have to kiss my feet, as there is no actual kissing involved in the fic.
Feedback: Please, thank you.
Word Count: 400
He spares a second’s glance across his desk, and ends up nearly jumping out of his skin at the sight of Mr. Kent right in front of him.
“Hi, Jim. Um, do you have a stapler I can borrow?” Mr. Kent fidgets with his tie, flushing. “Can’t for the life of me remember where I left mine.”
He laughs, mostly to shrug off the rest of the adrenaline pumping through his veins, and releases the death grip he has on his camera. “Sure, Mr. Kent. Boy you sure scared me for a moment there!”
He ducks his head, rummaging through his bottom drawer for his stapler, missing the deeper flush Mr. Kent gets, only hearing his stuttered apology. He straightens up laughing again, and hands Mr. Kent the stapler. Their fingers brush for just a second, which for some strange reason makes Jimmy’s heart leap harder than seeing Mr. Kent in the first place did. He clears his throat, and pulls away hastily.
“So, we haven’t really… I mean, er. How’re you liking the office?” It always takes him a moment to remember Mr. Kent is new around the place, he just blends in so darn well he can’t help but think the man’s been here as long as Ms. Lane, or the Chief.
Mr. Kent is staring intently at the stapler, and looks up startled at Jimmy’s question. “Oh! Well, gee Jim, it’s great, but I’m not used to the big city. There are so many people!”
There’s a look in Mr. Kent’s eyes when he says the last part, that makes Jimmy think he means something completely different.
Mr. Kent’s eyes are a really startling shade of blue, the kind that glasses don’t do a thing for.
He twists the focus on his camera, still clutched loosely in both of his hands, but doesn’t stray his eyes from Mr. Kent’s. “I’m sure you’ll get used to it.”
Mr. Kent chuckles, and Jimmy wants to grin just for the heck of it. “I’m not sure that’s possible, Jim.”
“Well, I’m always here to show you around, Mr. Kent. I mean --” He’s blushing, so it’s almost a relief when Mr. Kent interrupts him.
“I think I could use that offer, some time. Thanks for the stapler, anyway.”
He nods, smiling easily. “You’re welcome, Mr. Kent.”
Mr. Kent returns the smile, and pushes his glasses back up his nose with one finger. “Call me Clark, if you want.”