FIC: Killing Loneliness
I did it. On a spur of madness. I'm sorry for spamming your flist today, I'm gonna be quiet now :P
Fandom: DCU/Smallville
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Clark/Harvey, mentions of Clark/Bruce and Harvey/Bruce
Word Count: 2187
AN: Set a year after tmelange’s Between the Shadow and the Soul, an AU from her AU in which Clark did naughty, naughty things to Bruce during a Red Kryptonite high and then dumped him. Prompted by tmelange for the ‘Porn it forward’ meme :) Not beta'ed, so point out and I shall correct. Title from the HIM song of the same name.
Killing Loneliness
Clark crossed the building’s patio, running under the rain. He reached the building’s door just as a couple of students were walking in, and he walked in with them, heading towards the dorm Bruce had told him had been his.
After he had gotten rid of the red kryptonite, Clark had realized what he had done, how much he had allowed to happen that he shouldn’t have. He remembered claiming Bruce in a dingy hotel room, remembered hurting and marking the young man as his during heated encounters that had left him hungry for more, always more. Bruce had been cool shadows to his scorching fire, still waters that had stirred and boiled when Clark plunged into them. And as good as it had been -Clark blushed, it had been really good- there had been no love there, no real affection. At least not from Clark. He had wanted, and what he wanted he had taken, feeling that is was his right. He had been hurting and he had hurt others in return.
He needed to talk with Bruce.
He hadn’t seen Gotham’s favorite son in three months, but the school year was over and everyone was packing to go back home, and Clark hoped that Bruce would still be there. He had no idea of what he would tell him -‘Well, hello Bruce. I was driven to excess and lust filled nights by a rock from my home planet, I’m sorry if I ruffled you up’ was out of the question.
Clark pushed back a wet bang from his forehead, and trying his hardest not to fidget, he knocked at the door. A young man in cream slacks and a burgundy shirt answered his call, deep brown eyes staring at him and slowly filling with contempt.
“You. What are you doing here?”
Clark recognized Bruce’s friend from the night of his birthday, the one Clark had clearly seen Bruce interested in, the guy who had come to help Bruce get out of his scorching grasp. Clark wished Harvey had succeeded so he wouldn’t hold so much regret over what he had done to Bruce.
“Is Bruce around? I… I need to talk with him,” Clark said, trying not to look away from the angry gaze of the other man.
“No, Bruce isn’t around. He left.”
“Did he go back home already? I hoped to see him before he left for Gotham.”
Harvey looked him over, an annoyed look on his face. “You’re two months late, then.”
Clark took a moment to process the information. “He… dropped out?”
“Yes, Kent, he left. I would have thought you knew, since it was your fault.” Harvey started to close the door, turning his back on Clark. “You got some nerve, coming here looking like a lost puppy. I’m not buying your act, kid. Go home.”
“Wait, please! Harvey, right?” Clark grabbed the door before it closed, and took a step into the dorm. “Harvey, please. I need to talk with him. Do you know where he is?”
Harvey looked at him, troubled. He walked inside the small apartment’s bathroom and walked out carrying a towel. He threw it to Clark from the other end of the room and leaned against the wall. “You’re dripping all over the floor. And no, I don’t know where he is. Sicily last month, Amsterdam last week. He’s running away from himself. Or from you, I don’t know.”
“I know you don’t like me-“
“That’s an understatement.”
“-But I really didn’t mean to hurt him. I know I… I did a lot of things last year that I regret. Bruce deserved better.”
“You bet he did. First time the kid falls in love and it’s with a piece of scum like you.”
Clark swallowed hard at the thought of Bruce being in love with him, but he felt like he owed this man an explanation too. Clark had practically swept Bruce from Harvey, and he had treated him like a toy, only to be discarded once it was broken. Harvey had a right to be angry at him.
“You deserved better too, Harvey. You were a really good friend to him. He cared a lot for you.”
Harvey’s face turned into an angry grimace. “Don’t you fucking dare talk about me and him. You know nothing about us. You just came rushing, took what you wanted and damn the consequences. You didn’t sit with him when he cried! You didn’t stay until he was able to smile again! You didn’t give a damn about him, and I did!”
The anger clicked in Clark’s head. “And he left you anyway.”
“Get out of here, Kent. Now.”
“Harvey, listen-“
“I said NOW!” Harvey kicked one of the remaining stools of the apartment, and Clark backed off, raising his arms in surrender. “I’m here, packing what’s left of his stuff from our apartment, and you come to gloat about driving him away? What the hell are you doing here, Kent? Whatever you want, I won’t help you.”
Harvey poured himself a glass from the half gone bottle of scotch on the table.
“You’re drunk,” Clark pointed out.
“Now yet,” Harvey answered and downed the drink. “You know why I don’t like you, kid?”
Clark could think of a dozen of reasons, but thought it was better to remain silent. He shook his head.
“Whatever it was that you gave Bruce, he couldn’t find it again after you left. No one could match the ‘great’ Clark Kent. And now you’re here, dripping all over the floor, looking like you miss having your momma’s skit to hide behind, and you’re nothing special. You’re just some screwed up kid. If you truly were what Bruce thought you to be, that would be one thing. I could respect that. But I’m looking at you, and there’s nothing about you that proves him right. You’re pretty in some ordinary way. Just some kid.” Harvey spat the last words like they were venom on his lips.
Clark lowered his eyes, frowning. “I wish I was ordinary,” he said, his voice soft.
Harvey poured himself another drink. “That’s probably it, then. Everyone wants to be special. Some people have the potential and the will, and they stand apart of the rest because of a greater purpose. You don’t want that. Whatever potential you have, you’re wasting it. I despise wasted potential. This world can’t afford it, and you’re so lost inside your head that you can’t see past your nose. And because of that, Bruce is gone, a great man with a great purpose hiding from his destiny. And yes, I don’t need you to say it again, away from me. I don’t like you because of that either,” Harvey said with a wicked half smile.
Clark fisted his hands at his sides. “I am not ‘lost inside my head’. You don’t know me. I did a lot of stupid things last year, but I’m not going to waste my life.”
“No, you don’t want to waste it, which is different from actually not doing it. I don’t care either way. He’s gone, and you really don’t matter anymore.” Harvey walked towards Clark, the drink in his hand, and stood just a couple of inches apart from the younger boy. “You’re pretty, Bruce was right about that.”
Harvey took Clark’s chin and turned it towards him, and then away from him, appraising him carefully. “He said you were pure passion. That you were pure life, joy, anger and lust.” Harvey ran his hand through the wet matted hair and sipped his drink. “Tell me, where are you hiding all that? And why? You didn’t seem like the shy kind the last time I saw you.”
“I wasn’t myself the last time you saw me,” Clark said, swallowing hard. He hadn’t allowed anyone this close since the red kryptonite effects had worn off. He tried not to lean towards the touch.
“Hmm.” Harvey finished his drink and brought his lips just a breath away from Clark’s ear, his lips grazing his skin with every word, sending shivers down his spine. “So, who are you now, kid?”
Clark tried to find his voice. Harvey didn’t care for him, hell, Harvey probably hated him, it wasn’t safe to let go with him, but Clark missed human touch so much, he could barely help himself. “I don’t know. Just me.”
Harvey chuckled, his breath hot against Clark’s skin. The smell of scotch felt very familiar to Clark, from the days when he had been reckless and lost. “You should leave now. You’re not the only dangerous man in this room,” Harvey whispered again, letting go of Clark’s chin.
Clark reached out for Harvey’s wrist, stopping him from stepping away from him. He wanted to tell Harvey he was sorry, wanted to explain to him that he wasn’t truly a bad person and that he wasn’t going to waste his life. For some reason, it seemed important that this man believed him, like fate was hanging from the thin thread of his faith. Instead, knowing that all words would fail him, he pulled Harvey to him with more strength than the other man was expecting, holding him close and kissing him vehemently.
Actions wouldn’t be enough either, Clark knew that. But maybe if he could show Harvey that he was more than met the eye, he could understand. Maybe he could forgive him for hurting Bruce. And, maybe, in time, he would be able to find Bruce’s forgiveness too.
Harvey was breathing hard into the kiss, responding roughly at Clark’s actions. He bit his tongue when Clark tried to reach inside his mouth, and trusted his own deep into Clark’s mouth. He grabbed Clark’s forearms with an almost painful grip and moved them towards the small table, pushing Clark over it. Clark gave as good as he got, putting all his spirit in the kiss, trying to overcome Harvey’s anger and frustration with his own desire and hope for redemption. His hands roamed over Harvey’s body, pulling at the deep red shirt and sliding his hands under it, touching Harvey wherever he could. Harvey settled between Clark’s legs, leaning over him, their bodies brushing through the layers of clothing. The older man undid Clark’s shirt, button by button, almost absently, and opened the shirt to display Clark’s chest.
Harvey broke the kiss, marking a way of wet kisses and bites on Clark’s shoulder, his hands leaving Clark’s body to unbutton his own pants, letting them drop to his ankles. Clark was uncomfortably tucked inside wet underwear and rain-drenched jeans, which Harvey undid and discarded while he licked and sucked at Clark’s nipples.
Harvey exposed them and moved again to lean over Clark, their needs trapped between their bodies. Harvey was lean and well toned, the body of an athlete, and Clark could appreciate the beauty of the man between the groaning kisses that tasted like alcohol and breath mints. Clark grabbed Harvey’s firm butt cheeks and pulled him closer, kneading the flesh and setting a rhythm in Harvey’s thrusts. Harvey grunted, aroused or mad at having the control taken away from him, Clark didn’t know. Clark reached for the other man’s hand and brought it to their lengths, making him grip them together and wrapping his own hand around Harvey’s.
Harvey’s hold was tight and his touch was certain and experienced, working himself towards completion and dragging Clark along with him. Clark touched the heads of their cocks with deft fingers, teasing the sensitive slit and making Harvey buck and moan, breaking their kiss. Harvey went down Clark’s throat, sucking at his pulse point, biting and licking alternately, letting Clark push them over the edge by rubbing the base of the swollen heads.
Clark came with a stifled cry, biting his lips, his grip on them tightening and bringing Harvey over the edge. Harvey trusted into their hands, shuddering, breathing hard against Clark’s throat, and they laid over the table half undressed for a moment, sweaty and panting.
Clark ran a hand through Harvey’s hair; his other hand caressing Harvey’s tight slowly. Harvey pulled back, his eyes stormy, dozens of thoughts unspoken. He moved away and picked up the towel he had thrown Clark earlier to clean himself. He handed it to Clark as he pulled his clothes back together, his eyes never meeting Clark’s. “Maybe I was drunker than I thought,” he muttered, almost to himself.
There was nothing Clark could say to explain his actions. He had wanted to show Harvey that he was everything Bruce had said, but he was also a better man. Better than he had been with Bruce, at least.
“Bruce was right,” Harvey said, almost as an afterthought, reaching for his glass and the bottle of scotch again. “You might want to leave now, Kent, before it gets dark.” He poured himself a glass with the remaining liquid in the bottle, and looked up, finally meeting Clark’s eyes again. “It’s dangerous out there.” He smiled wryly, lifting the drink to his lips. “But I guess you already knew that.”
Fandom: DCU/Smallville
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Clark/Harvey, mentions of Clark/Bruce and Harvey/Bruce
Word Count: 2187
AN: Set a year after tmelange’s Between the Shadow and the Soul, an AU from her AU in which Clark did naughty, naughty things to Bruce during a Red Kryptonite high and then dumped him. Prompted by tmelange for the ‘Porn it forward’ meme :) Not beta'ed, so point out and I shall correct. Title from the HIM song of the same name.
Killing Loneliness
Clark crossed the building’s patio, running under the rain. He reached the building’s door just as a couple of students were walking in, and he walked in with them, heading towards the dorm Bruce had told him had been his.
After he had gotten rid of the red kryptonite, Clark had realized what he had done, how much he had allowed to happen that he shouldn’t have. He remembered claiming Bruce in a dingy hotel room, remembered hurting and marking the young man as his during heated encounters that had left him hungry for more, always more. Bruce had been cool shadows to his scorching fire, still waters that had stirred and boiled when Clark plunged into them. And as good as it had been -Clark blushed, it had been really good- there had been no love there, no real affection. At least not from Clark. He had wanted, and what he wanted he had taken, feeling that is was his right. He had been hurting and he had hurt others in return.
He needed to talk with Bruce.
He hadn’t seen Gotham’s favorite son in three months, but the school year was over and everyone was packing to go back home, and Clark hoped that Bruce would still be there. He had no idea of what he would tell him -‘Well, hello Bruce. I was driven to excess and lust filled nights by a rock from my home planet, I’m sorry if I ruffled you up’ was out of the question.
Clark pushed back a wet bang from his forehead, and trying his hardest not to fidget, he knocked at the door. A young man in cream slacks and a burgundy shirt answered his call, deep brown eyes staring at him and slowly filling with contempt.
“You. What are you doing here?”
Clark recognized Bruce’s friend from the night of his birthday, the one Clark had clearly seen Bruce interested in, the guy who had come to help Bruce get out of his scorching grasp. Clark wished Harvey had succeeded so he wouldn’t hold so much regret over what he had done to Bruce.
“Is Bruce around? I… I need to talk with him,” Clark said, trying not to look away from the angry gaze of the other man.
“No, Bruce isn’t around. He left.”
“Did he go back home already? I hoped to see him before he left for Gotham.”
Harvey looked him over, an annoyed look on his face. “You’re two months late, then.”
Clark took a moment to process the information. “He… dropped out?”
“Yes, Kent, he left. I would have thought you knew, since it was your fault.” Harvey started to close the door, turning his back on Clark. “You got some nerve, coming here looking like a lost puppy. I’m not buying your act, kid. Go home.”
“Wait, please! Harvey, right?” Clark grabbed the door before it closed, and took a step into the dorm. “Harvey, please. I need to talk with him. Do you know where he is?”
Harvey looked at him, troubled. He walked inside the small apartment’s bathroom and walked out carrying a towel. He threw it to Clark from the other end of the room and leaned against the wall. “You’re dripping all over the floor. And no, I don’t know where he is. Sicily last month, Amsterdam last week. He’s running away from himself. Or from you, I don’t know.”
“I know you don’t like me-“
“That’s an understatement.”
“-But I really didn’t mean to hurt him. I know I… I did a lot of things last year that I regret. Bruce deserved better.”
“You bet he did. First time the kid falls in love and it’s with a piece of scum like you.”
Clark swallowed hard at the thought of Bruce being in love with him, but he felt like he owed this man an explanation too. Clark had practically swept Bruce from Harvey, and he had treated him like a toy, only to be discarded once it was broken. Harvey had a right to be angry at him.
“You deserved better too, Harvey. You were a really good friend to him. He cared a lot for you.”
Harvey’s face turned into an angry grimace. “Don’t you fucking dare talk about me and him. You know nothing about us. You just came rushing, took what you wanted and damn the consequences. You didn’t sit with him when he cried! You didn’t stay until he was able to smile again! You didn’t give a damn about him, and I did!”
The anger clicked in Clark’s head. “And he left you anyway.”
“Get out of here, Kent. Now.”
“Harvey, listen-“
“I said NOW!” Harvey kicked one of the remaining stools of the apartment, and Clark backed off, raising his arms in surrender. “I’m here, packing what’s left of his stuff from our apartment, and you come to gloat about driving him away? What the hell are you doing here, Kent? Whatever you want, I won’t help you.”
Harvey poured himself a glass from the half gone bottle of scotch on the table.
“You’re drunk,” Clark pointed out.
“Now yet,” Harvey answered and downed the drink. “You know why I don’t like you, kid?”
Clark could think of a dozen of reasons, but thought it was better to remain silent. He shook his head.
“Whatever it was that you gave Bruce, he couldn’t find it again after you left. No one could match the ‘great’ Clark Kent. And now you’re here, dripping all over the floor, looking like you miss having your momma’s skit to hide behind, and you’re nothing special. You’re just some screwed up kid. If you truly were what Bruce thought you to be, that would be one thing. I could respect that. But I’m looking at you, and there’s nothing about you that proves him right. You’re pretty in some ordinary way. Just some kid.” Harvey spat the last words like they were venom on his lips.
Clark lowered his eyes, frowning. “I wish I was ordinary,” he said, his voice soft.
Harvey poured himself another drink. “That’s probably it, then. Everyone wants to be special. Some people have the potential and the will, and they stand apart of the rest because of a greater purpose. You don’t want that. Whatever potential you have, you’re wasting it. I despise wasted potential. This world can’t afford it, and you’re so lost inside your head that you can’t see past your nose. And because of that, Bruce is gone, a great man with a great purpose hiding from his destiny. And yes, I don’t need you to say it again, away from me. I don’t like you because of that either,” Harvey said with a wicked half smile.
Clark fisted his hands at his sides. “I am not ‘lost inside my head’. You don’t know me. I did a lot of stupid things last year, but I’m not going to waste my life.”
“No, you don’t want to waste it, which is different from actually not doing it. I don’t care either way. He’s gone, and you really don’t matter anymore.” Harvey walked towards Clark, the drink in his hand, and stood just a couple of inches apart from the younger boy. “You’re pretty, Bruce was right about that.”
Harvey took Clark’s chin and turned it towards him, and then away from him, appraising him carefully. “He said you were pure passion. That you were pure life, joy, anger and lust.” Harvey ran his hand through the wet matted hair and sipped his drink. “Tell me, where are you hiding all that? And why? You didn’t seem like the shy kind the last time I saw you.”
“I wasn’t myself the last time you saw me,” Clark said, swallowing hard. He hadn’t allowed anyone this close since the red kryptonite effects had worn off. He tried not to lean towards the touch.
“Hmm.” Harvey finished his drink and brought his lips just a breath away from Clark’s ear, his lips grazing his skin with every word, sending shivers down his spine. “So, who are you now, kid?”
Clark tried to find his voice. Harvey didn’t care for him, hell, Harvey probably hated him, it wasn’t safe to let go with him, but Clark missed human touch so much, he could barely help himself. “I don’t know. Just me.”
Harvey chuckled, his breath hot against Clark’s skin. The smell of scotch felt very familiar to Clark, from the days when he had been reckless and lost. “You should leave now. You’re not the only dangerous man in this room,” Harvey whispered again, letting go of Clark’s chin.
Clark reached out for Harvey’s wrist, stopping him from stepping away from him. He wanted to tell Harvey he was sorry, wanted to explain to him that he wasn’t truly a bad person and that he wasn’t going to waste his life. For some reason, it seemed important that this man believed him, like fate was hanging from the thin thread of his faith. Instead, knowing that all words would fail him, he pulled Harvey to him with more strength than the other man was expecting, holding him close and kissing him vehemently.
Actions wouldn’t be enough either, Clark knew that. But maybe if he could show Harvey that he was more than met the eye, he could understand. Maybe he could forgive him for hurting Bruce. And, maybe, in time, he would be able to find Bruce’s forgiveness too.
Harvey was breathing hard into the kiss, responding roughly at Clark’s actions. He bit his tongue when Clark tried to reach inside his mouth, and trusted his own deep into Clark’s mouth. He grabbed Clark’s forearms with an almost painful grip and moved them towards the small table, pushing Clark over it. Clark gave as good as he got, putting all his spirit in the kiss, trying to overcome Harvey’s anger and frustration with his own desire and hope for redemption. His hands roamed over Harvey’s body, pulling at the deep red shirt and sliding his hands under it, touching Harvey wherever he could. Harvey settled between Clark’s legs, leaning over him, their bodies brushing through the layers of clothing. The older man undid Clark’s shirt, button by button, almost absently, and opened the shirt to display Clark’s chest.
Harvey broke the kiss, marking a way of wet kisses and bites on Clark’s shoulder, his hands leaving Clark’s body to unbutton his own pants, letting them drop to his ankles. Clark was uncomfortably tucked inside wet underwear and rain-drenched jeans, which Harvey undid and discarded while he licked and sucked at Clark’s nipples.
Harvey exposed them and moved again to lean over Clark, their needs trapped between their bodies. Harvey was lean and well toned, the body of an athlete, and Clark could appreciate the beauty of the man between the groaning kisses that tasted like alcohol and breath mints. Clark grabbed Harvey’s firm butt cheeks and pulled him closer, kneading the flesh and setting a rhythm in Harvey’s thrusts. Harvey grunted, aroused or mad at having the control taken away from him, Clark didn’t know. Clark reached for the other man’s hand and brought it to their lengths, making him grip them together and wrapping his own hand around Harvey’s.
Harvey’s hold was tight and his touch was certain and experienced, working himself towards completion and dragging Clark along with him. Clark touched the heads of their cocks with deft fingers, teasing the sensitive slit and making Harvey buck and moan, breaking their kiss. Harvey went down Clark’s throat, sucking at his pulse point, biting and licking alternately, letting Clark push them over the edge by rubbing the base of the swollen heads.
Clark came with a stifled cry, biting his lips, his grip on them tightening and bringing Harvey over the edge. Harvey trusted into their hands, shuddering, breathing hard against Clark’s throat, and they laid over the table half undressed for a moment, sweaty and panting.
Clark ran a hand through Harvey’s hair; his other hand caressing Harvey’s tight slowly. Harvey pulled back, his eyes stormy, dozens of thoughts unspoken. He moved away and picked up the towel he had thrown Clark earlier to clean himself. He handed it to Clark as he pulled his clothes back together, his eyes never meeting Clark’s. “Maybe I was drunker than I thought,” he muttered, almost to himself.
There was nothing Clark could say to explain his actions. He had wanted to show Harvey that he was everything Bruce had said, but he was also a better man. Better than he had been with Bruce, at least.
“Bruce was right,” Harvey said, almost as an afterthought, reaching for his glass and the bottle of scotch again. “You might want to leave now, Kent, before it gets dark.” He poured himself a glass with the remaining liquid in the bottle, and looked up, finally meeting Clark’s eyes again. “It’s dangerous out there.” He smiled wryly, lifting the drink to his lips. “But I guess you already knew that.”