(no subject)
This is how it’s supposed to be.
Cassie wakes up every morning to messy hair and bright blue eyes. It’s chilly in the mornings, in the castle, so she snuggles deeper in the blankets, nestling up closer to her very naked boyfriend. He’s always warm, and his arms are always open for her.
Whoever gathers up the willpower to get out of bed first jumps in the shower. If the other manages to gather up their own in time, they join the first before the end. Under a steady stream of hot water, they kiss, and Cassie wipes a dribble of soap from Kon’s forehead so it doesn’t get in his eyes.
When they hop out, they brush their teeth, Cassie wearing his bathrobe (which he’s worn maybe once since he got it) and Kon in his boxers, playfully arguing for counter space. They could ask the castle for a second sink, but that would take the fun out of it.
Kon doesn’t even comb his hair, while Cassie fusses to make hers behave. That’s why she kept it short, she reminds him, because it wasn’t so much work. He says she’s gorgeous whether she’s rocking it to her knees or shaved bald. Cassie rolls her eyes with a smile, and continues to wear it long.
They get dressed, superhero costumes first, civilian clothes second. As Cassie’s metallic reds disappear under jeans and a hoodie, Kon buttons a dress shirt over the red ‘S’. To no one’s surprise, he gives up on the dress shirt before they even leave the room, shucking it to the floor for the ghosts to deal with. Cassie teases him about the glasses. Kon quips that if Clark doesn’t have to wear them, he doesn’t have to, either.
Cassie laughs, and laughs, and laughs.
Downstairs is where they have breakfast, usually cooking it themselves before settling in the dining room. Sometimes they are joined by friends or family; some mornings there’s Donna, or Claire, or Clark, for any number of the Titans or Justice League members. Some mornings, it’s just the two of them, and on those mornings, they’re a bit mushier. Sharing pancakes, making a mess with the whipped cream, brazenly flirting.
And then it’s off to whatever they’re doing for the day: maybe Cassie heads to the library to get some history book to read, or Kon heads to the pool for a swim, or they do both together. They go about their days, coming and going as they please. Sometimes they meet for lunch and dinner and sometimes they don’t meet up again until later.
Regardless of that, the days always end the same: a “hey, I’m here” as they walk in the door to their room, the usual chitchat and alonetime. On weekend nights they catch a movie, on certain weekdays they go to kick back on the beach or take a ski trip. They while away the hours, just talking, until it’s time to hit the hay.
Kon flops down on bed and Cassie crawls overtop of him, or sometimes, he scoops her up and she wraps her legs around his waist. Sometimes it’s her pushing him down, or him pushing her, and other times, it’s just one taking the other’s hand and leading the way. They laugh, they gasp, they moan. It feels good.
And then, every night, they drift off into slumber together, nestled together in a sweaty mess, happy and loved and glad they have each other.
But, as always, Cassie wakes up alone. The room is still empty, save for the bare furniture, and her clothes folded neatly on the desk. It’s Kon’s room... or it was. At some point, she would have liked for it to be hers, too.
It’s how it’s supposed to be, but that’s not how it is.
She sighs, hugging the pillow tighter.
It’s a nice dream, but that’s all it is.
Cassie wakes up every morning to messy hair and bright blue eyes. It’s chilly in the mornings, in the castle, so she snuggles deeper in the blankets, nestling up closer to her very naked boyfriend. He’s always warm, and his arms are always open for her.
Whoever gathers up the willpower to get out of bed first jumps in the shower. If the other manages to gather up their own in time, they join the first before the end. Under a steady stream of hot water, they kiss, and Cassie wipes a dribble of soap from Kon’s forehead so it doesn’t get in his eyes.
When they hop out, they brush their teeth, Cassie wearing his bathrobe (which he’s worn maybe once since he got it) and Kon in his boxers, playfully arguing for counter space. They could ask the castle for a second sink, but that would take the fun out of it.
Kon doesn’t even comb his hair, while Cassie fusses to make hers behave. That’s why she kept it short, she reminds him, because it wasn’t so much work. He says she’s gorgeous whether she’s rocking it to her knees or shaved bald. Cassie rolls her eyes with a smile, and continues to wear it long.
They get dressed, superhero costumes first, civilian clothes second. As Cassie’s metallic reds disappear under jeans and a hoodie, Kon buttons a dress shirt over the red ‘S’. To no one’s surprise, he gives up on the dress shirt before they even leave the room, shucking it to the floor for the ghosts to deal with. Cassie teases him about the glasses. Kon quips that if Clark doesn’t have to wear them, he doesn’t have to, either.
Cassie laughs, and laughs, and laughs.
Downstairs is where they have breakfast, usually cooking it themselves before settling in the dining room. Sometimes they are joined by friends or family; some mornings there’s Donna, or Claire, or Clark, for any number of the Titans or Justice League members. Some mornings, it’s just the two of them, and on those mornings, they’re a bit mushier. Sharing pancakes, making a mess with the whipped cream, brazenly flirting.
And then it’s off to whatever they’re doing for the day: maybe Cassie heads to the library to get some history book to read, or Kon heads to the pool for a swim, or they do both together. They go about their days, coming and going as they please. Sometimes they meet for lunch and dinner and sometimes they don’t meet up again until later.
Regardless of that, the days always end the same: a “hey, I’m here” as they walk in the door to their room, the usual chitchat and alonetime. On weekend nights they catch a movie, on certain weekdays they go to kick back on the beach or take a ski trip. They while away the hours, just talking, until it’s time to hit the hay.
Kon flops down on bed and Cassie crawls overtop of him, or sometimes, he scoops her up and she wraps her legs around his waist. Sometimes it’s her pushing him down, or him pushing her, and other times, it’s just one taking the other’s hand and leading the way. They laugh, they gasp, they moan. It feels good.
And then, every night, they drift off into slumber together, nestled together in a sweaty mess, happy and loved and glad they have each other.
But, as always, Cassie wakes up alone. The room is still empty, save for the bare furniture, and her clothes folded neatly on the desk. It’s Kon’s room... or it was. At some point, she would have liked for it to be hers, too.
It’s how it’s supposed to be, but that’s not how it is.
She sighs, hugging the pillow tighter.
It’s a nice dream, but that’s all it is.