Airplanes
Title: Airplanes
Fandom: DC
Pairings: Bruce/Clark
Characters: Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent
Word Count: 1,445
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Synopsis: Nostalgia gets the best of us, and unheard wishes sometimes are granted.
It's just a drabble that popped out of nowhere. :) Like most things in life.
Airplanes:
Can we pretend that airplanes
in the night sky
are like shooting stars?
I could really use a wish right now….
-“Airplanes” B.O.B. feat. Haley Williams from Paramore
Life in the city was nothing like life in the country. The vast differences could be seen when one from either place visited the other and spent more than a moment gawking at it.
Solid formidable concrete rested beneath his fingers, and with only a press it could be dust. Grass was much more fragile, but Clark preferred the feel of wet moisture clinging to the tips of his fingers rather than the chalk-like substance of a manmade material. The cool feel of upturned dirt as it hummed with life was preferable to the haunting noise that was static in the munched up press of noise that was people, cars, and life moving too fast. He turned his head away from the sirens wailing against the honking, not inclined to leap into the stale air and fly through random smog. He heard nothing more than the harsh panting of a woman about to breathe another life into this world, and her husband uselessly chattering to her, telling her that it would be all right.
There was no need for a hero there.
Alone on the balcony facing the city he’d come to inhabit, his mind wandered to the simpler times as his eyes drifted to the skies. The lights here were so bright it was hard to see past the moon and the one star that shone bright enough to be seen. Sure, he could see all of them, but it wasn’t the same as it was in the country. The night sounds were inverts of one another. His heart thrummed with longing, wishing it was quiet and that he could inhale the sweet scent of night’s wisps through a summer’s breeze. Instead he got the scent of several vendors closing up shop for the night, and sweet smelling peanuts lingered with cinnamon and spice. He pressed himself a little harder into the balcony’s concrete railing, collapsing to rest against his arms and stare at the lit jungle.
It was home, and then it wasn’t.
He really didn’t know where this sudden glimpse of nostalgia had come from, or why it whelmed so. It hadn’t been but a day since the last adventure, where he didn’t have to think about his desires, his whims, or the days where lying under an endless sky soothed his soul; where he didn’t have to think about what the next scream would bring, or whose mind would bend and fracture to destroy. He didn’t think about those things when he was flying at mach speeds to get to the next disaster, when he was laughing with his co-workers at his “normal” job, or when he was barking orders at the watch tower. It never crossed his mind. He was too busy, and busy was good most days. It left him bone weary, exhausted, and stone sleep until the morning came ringing.
But the day had come and gone, and there was nothing for him to do, nowhere for him to go and where quiet was evasive. Books held little love for his roving mind. He had four stacked haphazardly on the coffee table, abandoned when his mind wouldn’t produce those worlds. The news was the news. He reported it. He didn’t want to watch it. Running errands was of little use. He paid everything on time and his cabinet was usually stocked with something. The perishables were never there long enough to risk spoiling.
That just left Clark and his mind, and the uncomfortable thought that he’d been shoving to the side of his brain for nearly a month now.
The fingers he curled into his forearms craved the cool comfort of the country, but it’d always twist itself into the longing for warm scarred tanned skin. How it would feel under the pads of his index and middle finger; what could come of his thumb pressing into the dotted flesh perking at his touch. Hands that could crush nearly anything within them wanted to press gently into the sculpted sides of a darkness no one could truly fathom. He wanted to see those lips part under endless skies, feel the thrum of that heart against his mouth as he pressed himself into the writhing body lying on the rich cool grass and breathing life into unbridled passion.
Clark shivered and tried to crush those thoughts, but they were in full blossom. He ignored the dull ache below him and kept breathing, watching the city move with planes rushing overhead as if they were flying blinking stars.
It seemed silly to wish on stars now, but he really wished he was back in the country, where his breathing would meld into his surroundings and leave him deaf to all but his most sincere prayers. No one would watch him but the heavens, and the skies didn’t judge.
Another moment passed, and he pushed himself up and away from the ledge.
Something dark fluttered out of the corner of his eye, and he moved to the left as something landed on the right of him. Clark stared at the mass that had come out of nowhere, and realized that he was staring into the dark gaze of a man who wasn’t looking at him through vinyl lenses. The armor that kept his body from harm was nowhere in sight. There was only the dark cotton t-shirt clinging sweetly to a broad torso rippling with every movement, and the black cargo pants that held god knows what in them upon his legs. His boots were heavy but moved lightly in time with their owner, unhooking something from his belt and letting it wind back with an air slicing zip.
Clark wasn’t sure of what to make of Bruce Wayne standing on his ledge as if this was normal. It wasn’t. “You’re out of uniform.”
Bruce tilted his head a bit and shrugged just as much. “Dress down. In town on business. Thought I’d stop by.”
“And do what?”
“Sleep.”
Clark blinked and watched at the lithe built form slipped past him and walked into his apartment. He walked in after him, shutting the door to his balcony in time to see Bruce throw his shoes into the corner of the room near the door. The belt he’d been wearing was tossed like a useless tie. Clark thought for sure it’d explode or something, but it didn’t. It landed with a hard thunk and stayed where it was. The bed creaked softly and Bruce was lying upon it, hands splayed under his head and sapphire eyes fixed on the ceiling.
Clark slowly walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it. Bruce rolled over and pressed his head into his hip, grabbed his wrist and sighed.
“…it never gets easier.”
No, it didn’t. Juggling that which was a hero and what made them human was harder than it appeared. Clark sometimes forgot that he wasn’t the only one thinking about life, but he was sure his were the only thoughts going down a path he still blushed about.
Bruce’s grip slackened a bit. Clark thought sleep had claimed him. He was a little shocked to feel the bed move with Bruce’s weight and feel that muscular body press into his, breath tickling his neck as Bruce inhaled the scent of him. Perhaps it was some vivid dream, or a potent drug. It was safer to believe that rather than the warmth seeping into his back, or the light rise and fall of that chest as Bruce moved his head to leave his lips at Clark’s ear. A tense moment passed.
“…I didn’t think earth could smell this sweet.”
Clark turned his head. Moist lips met slightly chapped ones. It was short, no more than a moment.
Clark thought summer had come and gone, and the sweet taste of melon lingered on his tongue in memory. Unearthly eyes looked into the depths of sapphires that had roamed in the dark. He could see a glimmer of something soft, untouched, and opening…and his heart constricted in excitement.
The corner of Bruce’s lips curled ever so slightly. Clark thought about the endless skies of a night sky of the country, and kissed those lips until he couldn’t hear anything more than the sound of his heart melding into his surroundings.
The sweet sounds of two hearts melding felt like home.
He heard the passing engine of a plane as they fell against cotton sheets, and wondered if planes were stars in disguise.
....It's all gravy if ya do or don't review. :)
Fandom: DC
Pairings: Bruce/Clark
Characters: Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent
Word Count: 1,445
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Synopsis: Nostalgia gets the best of us, and unheard wishes sometimes are granted.
It's just a drabble that popped out of nowhere. :) Like most things in life.
Airplanes:
Can we pretend that airplanes
in the night sky
are like shooting stars?
I could really use a wish right now….
-“Airplanes” B.O.B. feat. Haley Williams from Paramore
Life in the city was nothing like life in the country. The vast differences could be seen when one from either place visited the other and spent more than a moment gawking at it.
Solid formidable concrete rested beneath his fingers, and with only a press it could be dust. Grass was much more fragile, but Clark preferred the feel of wet moisture clinging to the tips of his fingers rather than the chalk-like substance of a manmade material. The cool feel of upturned dirt as it hummed with life was preferable to the haunting noise that was static in the munched up press of noise that was people, cars, and life moving too fast. He turned his head away from the sirens wailing against the honking, not inclined to leap into the stale air and fly through random smog. He heard nothing more than the harsh panting of a woman about to breathe another life into this world, and her husband uselessly chattering to her, telling her that it would be all right.
There was no need for a hero there.
Alone on the balcony facing the city he’d come to inhabit, his mind wandered to the simpler times as his eyes drifted to the skies. The lights here were so bright it was hard to see past the moon and the one star that shone bright enough to be seen. Sure, he could see all of them, but it wasn’t the same as it was in the country. The night sounds were inverts of one another. His heart thrummed with longing, wishing it was quiet and that he could inhale the sweet scent of night’s wisps through a summer’s breeze. Instead he got the scent of several vendors closing up shop for the night, and sweet smelling peanuts lingered with cinnamon and spice. He pressed himself a little harder into the balcony’s concrete railing, collapsing to rest against his arms and stare at the lit jungle.
It was home, and then it wasn’t.
He really didn’t know where this sudden glimpse of nostalgia had come from, or why it whelmed so. It hadn’t been but a day since the last adventure, where he didn’t have to think about his desires, his whims, or the days where lying under an endless sky soothed his soul; where he didn’t have to think about what the next scream would bring, or whose mind would bend and fracture to destroy. He didn’t think about those things when he was flying at mach speeds to get to the next disaster, when he was laughing with his co-workers at his “normal” job, or when he was barking orders at the watch tower. It never crossed his mind. He was too busy, and busy was good most days. It left him bone weary, exhausted, and stone sleep until the morning came ringing.
But the day had come and gone, and there was nothing for him to do, nowhere for him to go and where quiet was evasive. Books held little love for his roving mind. He had four stacked haphazardly on the coffee table, abandoned when his mind wouldn’t produce those worlds. The news was the news. He reported it. He didn’t want to watch it. Running errands was of little use. He paid everything on time and his cabinet was usually stocked with something. The perishables were never there long enough to risk spoiling.
That just left Clark and his mind, and the uncomfortable thought that he’d been shoving to the side of his brain for nearly a month now.
The fingers he curled into his forearms craved the cool comfort of the country, but it’d always twist itself into the longing for warm scarred tanned skin. How it would feel under the pads of his index and middle finger; what could come of his thumb pressing into the dotted flesh perking at his touch. Hands that could crush nearly anything within them wanted to press gently into the sculpted sides of a darkness no one could truly fathom. He wanted to see those lips part under endless skies, feel the thrum of that heart against his mouth as he pressed himself into the writhing body lying on the rich cool grass and breathing life into unbridled passion.
Clark shivered and tried to crush those thoughts, but they were in full blossom. He ignored the dull ache below him and kept breathing, watching the city move with planes rushing overhead as if they were flying blinking stars.
It seemed silly to wish on stars now, but he really wished he was back in the country, where his breathing would meld into his surroundings and leave him deaf to all but his most sincere prayers. No one would watch him but the heavens, and the skies didn’t judge.
Another moment passed, and he pushed himself up and away from the ledge.
Something dark fluttered out of the corner of his eye, and he moved to the left as something landed on the right of him. Clark stared at the mass that had come out of nowhere, and realized that he was staring into the dark gaze of a man who wasn’t looking at him through vinyl lenses. The armor that kept his body from harm was nowhere in sight. There was only the dark cotton t-shirt clinging sweetly to a broad torso rippling with every movement, and the black cargo pants that held god knows what in them upon his legs. His boots were heavy but moved lightly in time with their owner, unhooking something from his belt and letting it wind back with an air slicing zip.
Clark wasn’t sure of what to make of Bruce Wayne standing on his ledge as if this was normal. It wasn’t. “You’re out of uniform.”
Bruce tilted his head a bit and shrugged just as much. “Dress down. In town on business. Thought I’d stop by.”
“And do what?”
“Sleep.”
Clark blinked and watched at the lithe built form slipped past him and walked into his apartment. He walked in after him, shutting the door to his balcony in time to see Bruce throw his shoes into the corner of the room near the door. The belt he’d been wearing was tossed like a useless tie. Clark thought for sure it’d explode or something, but it didn’t. It landed with a hard thunk and stayed where it was. The bed creaked softly and Bruce was lying upon it, hands splayed under his head and sapphire eyes fixed on the ceiling.
Clark slowly walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it. Bruce rolled over and pressed his head into his hip, grabbed his wrist and sighed.
“…it never gets easier.”
No, it didn’t. Juggling that which was a hero and what made them human was harder than it appeared. Clark sometimes forgot that he wasn’t the only one thinking about life, but he was sure his were the only thoughts going down a path he still blushed about.
Bruce’s grip slackened a bit. Clark thought sleep had claimed him. He was a little shocked to feel the bed move with Bruce’s weight and feel that muscular body press into his, breath tickling his neck as Bruce inhaled the scent of him. Perhaps it was some vivid dream, or a potent drug. It was safer to believe that rather than the warmth seeping into his back, or the light rise and fall of that chest as Bruce moved his head to leave his lips at Clark’s ear. A tense moment passed.
“…I didn’t think earth could smell this sweet.”
Clark turned his head. Moist lips met slightly chapped ones. It was short, no more than a moment.
Clark thought summer had come and gone, and the sweet taste of melon lingered on his tongue in memory. Unearthly eyes looked into the depths of sapphires that had roamed in the dark. He could see a glimmer of something soft, untouched, and opening…and his heart constricted in excitement.
The corner of Bruce’s lips curled ever so slightly. Clark thought about the endless skies of a night sky of the country, and kissed those lips until he couldn’t hear anything more than the sound of his heart melding into his surroundings.
The sweet sounds of two hearts melding felt like home.
He heard the passing engine of a plane as they fell against cotton sheets, and wondered if planes were stars in disguise.
....It's all gravy if ya do or don't review. :)