Music of the Spheres Interlude: A Wedding Waltz
Title: Interlude: A Wedding Waltz
Pairing: Clark/Bruce
Disclaimer: The boys belong to DC and to each other, but not to me.
Notes: A stand-alone story in the series "Music of the Spheres." Other stories and notes on the series here.
Rating: PG
Summary: Clark and Bruce attend Lois and Richard's wedding.
Word Count: 1300
Story Notes: For the birthday of the amazing and talented
starsandsea, who wanted something happy set in the Music of the Spheres series. This is rather bittersweet in some ways, but I hope it still fits the bill!
Bruce Wayne reached up to adjust Clark Kent's bow tie. "Relax, Clark. There's no need to be so nervous."
Clark's smile was a touch wobbly. "It's just...really strange to be going to my ex-girlfriend's wedding, when she doesn't even know I'm her ex."
Bruce put his hands on Clark's shoulders. "You'll be fine. Just be yourself."
"Be myself." Clark's snort of laughter had a thread of bitterness. "That's great advice for both of us. Very nice. Very...simple."
"Hey." Bruce shook Clark very slightly. "It's not simple, no. But that doesn't mean it's not true."
After a moment Clark nodded and took a deep breath. "All right, let's go."
: : :
It was a larger gathering than either Richard or Lois would probably have liked, but they had so many connections and acquaintances it had been hard to keep the guest list down. Bruce felt some relief about that, for Clark's sake. Clark always felt better when he could stay back, out of the spotlight, attracting as little attention as possible. That was probably one of the greatest drawbacks for Clark of openly being playboy Bruce Wayne's lover--it was so much more difficult for him to avoid the limelight.
Today, maybe there would be enough people around that Clark could avoid attention.
They stood as the wedding march began to play and Lois and Richard entered, arm in arm, Jason walking proudly in front of them with his ring-bearer's pillow. Lois's dress was a simple a-line dress in off-white satin, with a vaguely 50s feel; a tiny white hat and half-veil completed the look. Richard couldn't keep his eyes off her, and she beamed back at him as they stepped up to the altar.
The ceremony itself had no frills or ostentation, merely the simplicity of two people in love committing their lives to each other. Bruce heard the traditional vows spoken with an odd mix of joy and sadness: joy for the couple, sadness that he and Clark had no such legal standing. He almost laughed at his own maudlin emotion--a year ago, would he ever have imagined he would feel sorrow that he couldn't marry? And here he was now, eyes prickling suspiciously as he heard Lois and Richard say their vows, their voices steady and clear and filled with love.
He was getting soft, how embarrassing.
Bruce reached out and took Clark's hand gently, squeezing it as the pair concluded with "...till death do us part." Clark's hand was cold; the fingers curled around his lightly but didn't return the pressure. Bruce glanced at his lover's face to see it abstracted, still, staring at the couple. "Hey," he whispered as the recessional music started, and Clark startled and looked at him. "Don't go wandering off on me."
Clark smiled faintly. "Don't worry," he replied as they stood to watch the couple pass by, laughing at some private joke, Jason tucked between them. "Don't worry," Clark said again. "I'm still here."
: : :
Outside the bay windows of the reception hall, storm clouds were starting to gather. The gardens and grounds were dark. "I guess it was too much to ask for, to have good weather as well," Lois said laughingly as she embraced first Bruce, then Clark. "But everything else went smoothly, so I think we've pulled off a minor miracle, haven't we, hon?"
She and Richard grinned at each other as Richard shook the two men's hands. "We've been pretty lucky," said the groom softly, his eyes still on Lois.
"Congratulations to both of you," Clark said shyly, ducking his head.
Lois reached out and ruffled his hair affectionately. "Thanks, Clark. I'm glad you came back from your globe-trotting in time to see us tie the knot."
Clark's smile was warm. "I am too."
Inevitably, Bruce found himself in the middle of a clot of socialites, chatting about some ridiculous event or other. He realized Clark wasn't at his side and looked around to find him staring out the windows at the sky, the dark clouds roiling in it, flickering lightning and threatening rain. Bruce took his arm. "Clark. Dance with me?"
The music was some big band number, a gentle waltz. Clark looked at him, surprised. "You know I don't...dance," he said awkwardly.
Bruce remembered the two times he had seen Clark dancing, the wildness that it seemed to arouse in the reporter. The second time he had seen Clark dance, the first and last time Bruce had danced with him, they had ended up in bed together, with Clark babbling about the stars speaking to him, his eyes shining, remote and otherworldly. Bruce had been ignorant then, but he realized now that he had seen Clark--seen Kal--at his most alien.
It had only made him want even more to hold that quicksilver passion, that gem-bright flame, and make it his.
He smiled at Clark's discomfort. "It might be a good idea to dance just a little bit now and then. Just a little." He pulled gently at the tuxedo sleeve. "We'll stop if it's too much. I promise."
Clark allowed himself to be guided to the middle of the dance floor. "You lead," he whispered.
Bruce put his arms around Clark and they began to waltz, Clark bumping into him at first, as gawky as he often appeared to be. But slowly, the gentle sway of the music began to synchronize their steps and Bruce found they were moving in better harmony, Clark responding to his lead more naturally, more easily. They spun with a swirl of music and Bruce felt the dance and the song fall into place, could feel Clark's body sway with him, woven tightly into the music together, melody and harmony inseparable and sweet together, together, together...
Clark pulled away with a small laugh, his face flushed and eyes heavy. "Enough, that's...that's probably enough, Bruce," he said breathlessly, and Bruce realized his own breath was coming fast. He and Clark stared at each other on the dance floor. "Let's...outside?" Clark was panting slightly. "Go outside? See the gardens?"
They slipped out a side door and into the dark, abandoned gardens, heavy with the scent of roses and honeysuckle. Clark pulled him into a shadowed corner and kissed him, leaves rustling around them in the rising wind. "Bruce," he said, like a song, like a chorus. "Bruce."
In mid-kiss the heavens opened and rain came down in torrents. Clark ignored the downpour sluicing across the two of them, wrapping Bruce more tightly in his arms. The rain just seemed part of the melody, somehow.
Lightning flickered nearby, pale fire lighting Clark's face eerily. The wind howled around them, and Bruce could hardly hear his own whisper over the tumult of the storm, but he knew Clark could.
"To have and to hold, Clark." Clark's lips were cold on his, but his eyes were like light. Kisses like music.
It seemed impossible that Clark's murmured response could carry across the thunder and the wind, but it did. "To have and to hold, Bruce."
"From this day forward."
Clark's dark hair was plastered across his brow, rain streaking his glasses and streaming down his face. "From this day forward." Bruce pushed the wet hair back and put his lips to the water on Clark's face, tasting salt. Lightning and thunder all around them. Clark's face was pale as a star.
Bruce leaned in close to Clark's ear and finished the vow. "Till death do us part."
Clark shivered and suddenly pulled Bruce to him, so close it was very nearly painful. "Yes," he whispered. "Till death do us part."
Their souls music, their bodies the instruments. Clark's hands on him, melody and harmony.
Bruce heard Clark laugh softly, almost to himself, like very distant thunder.
"As long as we both shall live, Bruce."
Pairing: Clark/Bruce
Disclaimer: The boys belong to DC and to each other, but not to me.
Notes: A stand-alone story in the series "Music of the Spheres." Other stories and notes on the series here.
Rating: PG
Summary: Clark and Bruce attend Lois and Richard's wedding.
Word Count: 1300
Story Notes: For the birthday of the amazing and talented
starsandsea, who wanted something happy set in the Music of the Spheres series. This is rather bittersweet in some ways, but I hope it still fits the bill!
Bruce Wayne reached up to adjust Clark Kent's bow tie. "Relax, Clark. There's no need to be so nervous."
Clark's smile was a touch wobbly. "It's just...really strange to be going to my ex-girlfriend's wedding, when she doesn't even know I'm her ex."
Bruce put his hands on Clark's shoulders. "You'll be fine. Just be yourself."
"Be myself." Clark's snort of laughter had a thread of bitterness. "That's great advice for both of us. Very nice. Very...simple."
"Hey." Bruce shook Clark very slightly. "It's not simple, no. But that doesn't mean it's not true."
After a moment Clark nodded and took a deep breath. "All right, let's go."
: : :
It was a larger gathering than either Richard or Lois would probably have liked, but they had so many connections and acquaintances it had been hard to keep the guest list down. Bruce felt some relief about that, for Clark's sake. Clark always felt better when he could stay back, out of the spotlight, attracting as little attention as possible. That was probably one of the greatest drawbacks for Clark of openly being playboy Bruce Wayne's lover--it was so much more difficult for him to avoid the limelight.
Today, maybe there would be enough people around that Clark could avoid attention.
They stood as the wedding march began to play and Lois and Richard entered, arm in arm, Jason walking proudly in front of them with his ring-bearer's pillow. Lois's dress was a simple a-line dress in off-white satin, with a vaguely 50s feel; a tiny white hat and half-veil completed the look. Richard couldn't keep his eyes off her, and she beamed back at him as they stepped up to the altar.
The ceremony itself had no frills or ostentation, merely the simplicity of two people in love committing their lives to each other. Bruce heard the traditional vows spoken with an odd mix of joy and sadness: joy for the couple, sadness that he and Clark had no such legal standing. He almost laughed at his own maudlin emotion--a year ago, would he ever have imagined he would feel sorrow that he couldn't marry? And here he was now, eyes prickling suspiciously as he heard Lois and Richard say their vows, their voices steady and clear and filled with love.
He was getting soft, how embarrassing.
Bruce reached out and took Clark's hand gently, squeezing it as the pair concluded with "...till death do us part." Clark's hand was cold; the fingers curled around his lightly but didn't return the pressure. Bruce glanced at his lover's face to see it abstracted, still, staring at the couple. "Hey," he whispered as the recessional music started, and Clark startled and looked at him. "Don't go wandering off on me."
Clark smiled faintly. "Don't worry," he replied as they stood to watch the couple pass by, laughing at some private joke, Jason tucked between them. "Don't worry," Clark said again. "I'm still here."
: : :
Outside the bay windows of the reception hall, storm clouds were starting to gather. The gardens and grounds were dark. "I guess it was too much to ask for, to have good weather as well," Lois said laughingly as she embraced first Bruce, then Clark. "But everything else went smoothly, so I think we've pulled off a minor miracle, haven't we, hon?"
She and Richard grinned at each other as Richard shook the two men's hands. "We've been pretty lucky," said the groom softly, his eyes still on Lois.
"Congratulations to both of you," Clark said shyly, ducking his head.
Lois reached out and ruffled his hair affectionately. "Thanks, Clark. I'm glad you came back from your globe-trotting in time to see us tie the knot."
Clark's smile was warm. "I am too."
Inevitably, Bruce found himself in the middle of a clot of socialites, chatting about some ridiculous event or other. He realized Clark wasn't at his side and looked around to find him staring out the windows at the sky, the dark clouds roiling in it, flickering lightning and threatening rain. Bruce took his arm. "Clark. Dance with me?"
The music was some big band number, a gentle waltz. Clark looked at him, surprised. "You know I don't...dance," he said awkwardly.
Bruce remembered the two times he had seen Clark dancing, the wildness that it seemed to arouse in the reporter. The second time he had seen Clark dance, the first and last time Bruce had danced with him, they had ended up in bed together, with Clark babbling about the stars speaking to him, his eyes shining, remote and otherworldly. Bruce had been ignorant then, but he realized now that he had seen Clark--seen Kal--at his most alien.
It had only made him want even more to hold that quicksilver passion, that gem-bright flame, and make it his.
He smiled at Clark's discomfort. "It might be a good idea to dance just a little bit now and then. Just a little." He pulled gently at the tuxedo sleeve. "We'll stop if it's too much. I promise."
Clark allowed himself to be guided to the middle of the dance floor. "You lead," he whispered.
Bruce put his arms around Clark and they began to waltz, Clark bumping into him at first, as gawky as he often appeared to be. But slowly, the gentle sway of the music began to synchronize their steps and Bruce found they were moving in better harmony, Clark responding to his lead more naturally, more easily. They spun with a swirl of music and Bruce felt the dance and the song fall into place, could feel Clark's body sway with him, woven tightly into the music together, melody and harmony inseparable and sweet together, together, together...
Clark pulled away with a small laugh, his face flushed and eyes heavy. "Enough, that's...that's probably enough, Bruce," he said breathlessly, and Bruce realized his own breath was coming fast. He and Clark stared at each other on the dance floor. "Let's...outside?" Clark was panting slightly. "Go outside? See the gardens?"
They slipped out a side door and into the dark, abandoned gardens, heavy with the scent of roses and honeysuckle. Clark pulled him into a shadowed corner and kissed him, leaves rustling around them in the rising wind. "Bruce," he said, like a song, like a chorus. "Bruce."
In mid-kiss the heavens opened and rain came down in torrents. Clark ignored the downpour sluicing across the two of them, wrapping Bruce more tightly in his arms. The rain just seemed part of the melody, somehow.
Lightning flickered nearby, pale fire lighting Clark's face eerily. The wind howled around them, and Bruce could hardly hear his own whisper over the tumult of the storm, but he knew Clark could.
"To have and to hold, Clark." Clark's lips were cold on his, but his eyes were like light. Kisses like music.
It seemed impossible that Clark's murmured response could carry across the thunder and the wind, but it did. "To have and to hold, Bruce."
"From this day forward."
Clark's dark hair was plastered across his brow, rain streaking his glasses and streaming down his face. "From this day forward." Bruce pushed the wet hair back and put his lips to the water on Clark's face, tasting salt. Lightning and thunder all around them. Clark's face was pale as a star.
Bruce leaned in close to Clark's ear and finished the vow. "Till death do us part."
Clark shivered and suddenly pulled Bruce to him, so close it was very nearly painful. "Yes," he whispered. "Till death do us part."
Their souls music, their bodies the instruments. Clark's hands on him, melody and harmony.
Bruce heard Clark laugh softly, almost to himself, like very distant thunder.
"As long as we both shall live, Bruce."