Ficlet: Long Day at the Office | Smallville | Clark/Ollie | PG-13 | 1/1
Title: Long Day at the Office
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Clark/Ollie
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 619
Prompt: For shopfront: I'd love something future-fic-y, the sort where Oliver dresses Clark up for fancy parties and Clark has learnt how to talk about hero ethics without driving Oliver mental (and to drink, lol), and they come home to each other to snuggle after a hard days heroing.
Summary: It's not so complicated as it used to be, balancing work and their relationship.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darnit!
Author's Notes: Muchly belated fandom_stocking ficlet (gods, I fail! *cringes*), totally pointless shmoop, possibly diabetes-inducing. :p
Long Day at the Office
It's halfway through the banquet when Clark gets back from his emergency trip to put out an oil fire, freshly clean and redressed in the tux Ollie had custom tailored for him.
“Sorry it took me so long,” Clark apologized, looking sheepish as he accepted a flute of champagne from Oliver. “Oil sludge,” he explained with a shudder, “the stink was unforgivable.”
Ollie nodded and returned a small smile just for his boyfriend. “Thank goodness for a high-powered shower.”
A light laugh, and Clark slipped an arm around Ollie's waist. “No kidding. But seriously, I'm sorry I had to slip out on your big night. It's not every day you get honored with Philanthropist of the Year.”
A year ago, Ollie would've been irritated having to defend Clark against himself where their costumed 'work' was concerned, but by now it had become a private joke between them, and Ollie was too amused. Leaning in close, he brushed his lips against Clark's ear and whispered, “You'll just have to make it up to me, then,” before nipping at his earlobe and withdrawing, giving him a patented Oliver Queen leer.
Clark couldn't suppress a shiver at that, and with a breathless look, he he husked back, “You're evil.”
Ollie grinned widely. “You know it.”
~*~*~
Back at Ollie's penthouse much later that night, after Clark had managed to slip off three more times before the banquet had ended, and after a mostly-uneventful three-hour patrol for the both of them, the two men showered again to wash off the world's grime, and settled in, too tired for anything serious but still wired enough to not be able to find sleep yet.
Lying in bed together in just boxer-briefs and t-shirts, they fell into their easy post-patrol wind-down, a snark-filled back-and-forth that had quickly become old hat after they started living together.
“Your aim was off tonight,” Clark smirked, lying on his side with an arm curled under his head on the pillow. “I thought for sure you were gonna take out the tires that kid was trying to steal.”
“Har, har,” Ollie shot back, facing Clark in a similar position. “Says the man whose cape got tangled up in a power line. For your information, I was aiming for the kid's backpack.”
“Sure you were. And that power line came out of nowhere and it was dark. That jolt was not pleasant.”
“Well, how 'bout I kiss it and make it better,” Ollie leered with a raised eyebrow.
Clark put on a deadpan expression. “Sure. The electricity grounded through my ass. So if you'd be so kind-”
Ollie swatted him on the bicep, laughing. “Smart ass.” Gripping his arm then, he pulled Clark closer and kissed him square on the mouth. “Ooh, tingly,” he smirked afterward with a quick lick of his lips. “You should get electrocuted more often.”
“Now who's the smart ass?”
“You love me for it.”
Clark pretended to look deep in thought, and when Ollie swatted him again, he laughed. “Point.”
“Go to sleep, Clark. There'll be meetings and news to be made in the morning, and you know how I need my beauty sleep.”
“Of course.” Another laugh, and Clark kissed him on the nose before turning over and settling back under Ollie's arm.
“And so do you.”
“Naturally.”
“Good night, Clark.”
“Night, dear.”
“Shut up and go to sleep, already,” Ollie laughed again as he reached back briefly to switch off the light on the nightstand.
And tucked in together, sleep came for them.
~*~*~
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Clark/Ollie
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 619
Prompt: For shopfront: I'd love something future-fic-y, the sort where Oliver dresses Clark up for fancy parties and Clark has learnt how to talk about hero ethics without driving Oliver mental (and to drink, lol), and they come home to each other to snuggle after a hard days heroing.
Summary: It's not so complicated as it used to be, balancing work and their relationship.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darnit!
Author's Notes: Muchly belated fandom_stocking ficlet (gods, I fail! *cringes*), totally pointless shmoop, possibly diabetes-inducing. :p
Long Day at the Office
It's halfway through the banquet when Clark gets back from his emergency trip to put out an oil fire, freshly clean and redressed in the tux Ollie had custom tailored for him.
“Sorry it took me so long,” Clark apologized, looking sheepish as he accepted a flute of champagne from Oliver. “Oil sludge,” he explained with a shudder, “the stink was unforgivable.”
Ollie nodded and returned a small smile just for his boyfriend. “Thank goodness for a high-powered shower.”
A light laugh, and Clark slipped an arm around Ollie's waist. “No kidding. But seriously, I'm sorry I had to slip out on your big night. It's not every day you get honored with Philanthropist of the Year.”
A year ago, Ollie would've been irritated having to defend Clark against himself where their costumed 'work' was concerned, but by now it had become a private joke between them, and Ollie was too amused. Leaning in close, he brushed his lips against Clark's ear and whispered, “You'll just have to make it up to me, then,” before nipping at his earlobe and withdrawing, giving him a patented Oliver Queen leer.
Clark couldn't suppress a shiver at that, and with a breathless look, he he husked back, “You're evil.”
Ollie grinned widely. “You know it.”
~*~*~
Back at Ollie's penthouse much later that night, after Clark had managed to slip off three more times before the banquet had ended, and after a mostly-uneventful three-hour patrol for the both of them, the two men showered again to wash off the world's grime, and settled in, too tired for anything serious but still wired enough to not be able to find sleep yet.
Lying in bed together in just boxer-briefs and t-shirts, they fell into their easy post-patrol wind-down, a snark-filled back-and-forth that had quickly become old hat after they started living together.
“Your aim was off tonight,” Clark smirked, lying on his side with an arm curled under his head on the pillow. “I thought for sure you were gonna take out the tires that kid was trying to steal.”
“Har, har,” Ollie shot back, facing Clark in a similar position. “Says the man whose cape got tangled up in a power line. For your information, I was aiming for the kid's backpack.”
“Sure you were. And that power line came out of nowhere and it was dark. That jolt was not pleasant.”
“Well, how 'bout I kiss it and make it better,” Ollie leered with a raised eyebrow.
Clark put on a deadpan expression. “Sure. The electricity grounded through my ass. So if you'd be so kind-”
Ollie swatted him on the bicep, laughing. “Smart ass.” Gripping his arm then, he pulled Clark closer and kissed him square on the mouth. “Ooh, tingly,” he smirked afterward with a quick lick of his lips. “You should get electrocuted more often.”
“Now who's the smart ass?”
“You love me for it.”
Clark pretended to look deep in thought, and when Ollie swatted him again, he laughed. “Point.”
“Go to sleep, Clark. There'll be meetings and news to be made in the morning, and you know how I need my beauty sleep.”
“Of course.” Another laugh, and Clark kissed him on the nose before turning over and settling back under Ollie's arm.
“And so do you.”
“Naturally.”
“Good night, Clark.”
“Night, dear.”
“Shut up and go to sleep, already,” Ollie laughed again as he reached back briefly to switch off the light on the nightstand.
And tucked in together, sleep came for them.
~*~*~