Fic: Five Times Clark Kissed Richard (Superman Returns - Clark/Richard) 1/1
Title: Five Times Clark Kissed Richard
Fandom: Superman Returns
Pairing: Clark/Richard
Rating: R
Warnings: Mentions of character death (not Clark!!), angst, fluffy romance, men kissing, slice-of-life stuff, and (egads!) an actual plot. O_o
Word Count: 2,040
Summary: Five occasions in which Clark kissed Richard. (Duh! :p)
Disclaimer: DC and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darnit.
Author's Note: Written in response to this artwork by lylith_st. Will be cross-posted. ^_^
Five Times Clark Kissed Richard
Richard couldn't help but notice the way Clark's voice wavered when he uttered his apology, the same words he must have repeated every ten minutes over the last five days. “I'm sorry, Richard.”
“Stop,” he finally returned, looking straight ahead at the flower-draped casket, not daring to turn to look at the man next to him. He simply couldn't have trusted himself not to break down into tears and just weep over the loss of his former fiancée. Not with Clark's devastated blue eyes and sometimes quivering chin. It just would have been too much. “It's... not your fault. I should have told Perry not to send her. I should have stopped her.”
He registered Clark's slight slump out of the corner of his eye.
“No... it... I should have been there. I could have been there. But... she didn't want me to... she said...” He sighed heavily, cupping his face in his hands. “She was so angry when I told her. She was... furious. And I... I couldn't...” His voice broke with a choked sob.
At that, Richard simply couldn't look away anymore. With tears slipping down his cheeks, he brought up a hand and laid it on the other man's back. “Clark...” he whispered, sliding his hand up to stroke Clark's hair.
Shuddering with a sob, Clark finally took a deep breath to calm himself and straightened somewhat in his seat, leaning into the warm touch as he looked at his friend. “I―” was all he could manage, leaning almost imperceptibly closer.
Richard took in a tiny, sharp breath, his mouth barely open, and Clark leaned the rest of the way over, closing the distance between them. Suddenly there was nothing but the two of them and their grief. Grief at losing the woman they both loved more than the very air they breathed. Grief at her anger toward both of them for 'sparing her' Clark's secrets. Grief at finding themselves alone with regret.
All of that pain was there in the kiss, as Clark pressed his lips to Richard's, all the fear and doubt and ugly, painful regret.
But buried beneath all of that, lie something neither of them ever hoped to have again... Hope.
* * * * *
Lunch and a walk through Centennial Park seemed innocent enough to Richard. They'd just finished a rather nasty expose on Metropolis International Airport, uncovering a smuggling ring going right through the baggage handlers, and a little celebratory break from the Planet was in order. The sun was shining on this marvelous April day, not a cloud to be found in the sky, the breeze just right.
And the company was more than pleasant.
Smirking a little at the errant thought, Richard glanced sideways at Clark, too lost in trying to figure out how to eat his hot dog and walk at the same time to be truly enjoying himself. “You'll never get it that way,” he offered laughingly.
Clark's eyes darted up and he nearly lost the entire dog as he still tried to get the unwieldy mess of condiments to his mouth. “Gah!” he wailed, barely managing to keep hold of it. Stopping in his tracks, he glared at the hot dog for a moment with longing and what appeared to be a deep sense of regret, then suddenly burst out laughing, his voice warm with sunshine.
Richard couldn't help a grin of his own. “Let's find a place to sit, huh?” he said, pointing toward a nearby bench.
“Yeah.”
The pair made their way over to sit in the shade, but instead of laying into their hot dogs, both men laid the gut bombs beside them on the bench, just smiling, enjoying the satisfaction of putting out a great story and having a spare moment to relax.
Clark couldn't remember the last time he'd relaxed, taken time out. In the past six months he'd thrown himself into his work, both at the Planet and in the suit.
If he were being fair to himself, he might admit that he was pushing it.
“Penny,” Richard said, breaking Clark out of his introspection as it began to turn more melancholy.
“Oh, um, I was just...” He shook his head. “It's been a long time since I really took any time out from work.”
“I know what you mean,” the other man agreed, his voice lower.
For a moment, the unspoken acknowledgment of Lois's conspicuous absence in their lives hung in the air between them, a weight that neither of them had been able to shed completely.
“Look, Clark―” Richard finally said, turning to face him fully.
But Clark cut him off with a wave of his hand and a shake of his head. “No. I know. It's not fair to either of us, or to Jason, to let... that keep up from moving on.”
Cocking his head to the side, Richard looked at him with a furrowed brow and a sigh. “You know, she'd be happy for us if...” His breath caught as he couldn't seem to finish the sentence.
A brilliant pair of jewel blue eyes sparkling with sunshine met him, and before he could blink, Clark's mouth was on his, lips firm and gentle, tongue tasting, the light touch of a hand caressing his jawline.
A flame rose up from deep within him as he responded, eagerly pressing into the kiss.
She would be happy for them.
* * * * *
Standing at the edge of the rooftop, Richard leaned against the stone ledge and gazed out over the city, watching the twinkle of lights on the autumn evening. Hearing the rustle of his occasional lover's cape behind him, he smiled faintly. “It took me forever to figure out why she came up here so damn often,” he said, not turning around.
“But you weren't surprised when you found out,” Clark said, slipping an arm around Richard's waist.
A chuckle at the bittersweet memory. “Heh. Not really. Who could have hoped to compete with you?” At last, Richard turned his head to look up at the taller man, leaning into his embrace in the chilly air.
“I never would have dared to take her from you,” Clark replied earnestly, leaning down to place a soft kiss on Richard's forehead.
The assistant editor closed his eyes at the touch, his face contorting with grief again, as much as he'd tried to move past it. “It's been a year.”
“I know.” The rumble of Clark's voice was low and warm, reaching right through both of their chests and resonating against the ache they both still felt. But Clark stiffened, and Richard knew what was coming next. “I have to go,” he whispered softly.
A nod. “Let me know if you can't make it for breakfast tomorrow.”
“I will,” Clark said, pulling away gently. With a wan smile, he floated up and over the ledge, turning to head toward whatever disaster scenario waited for him, but then stopped. Slowly, he turned back in midair, blinking heavily, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a quirky grin.
“What is it?” Richard asked, looking confused and caught by Clark's intense stare.
Still smiling, Clark floated back to the rooftop, and took Richard's face in his hands. “I... I love you, you know,” he said, before leaning close to kiss him.
Richard smiled back into the kiss as he raised up onto his toes to press closer, sighing. “Love you, too, Clark.”
* * * * *
Stretching out on the couch, Richard reclined onto Clark's lap, his back pressed against the other man's firm chest. Clark responded accordingly, shifting to let Richard get more comfortable as they watched the rented movie in the darkened living room of the Riverside Drive house. Bathed in the bluish light of the television, they snuggled together, glad to be spending the Saturday night in after the last few hectic weeks with Jason attending summer science camp and the paper providing more than enough work to keep them busy.
“Kill me quickly,” the Spaniard on the screen said as he dropped to his knees, his sword taken from him.
The Man in Black peered out from his mask, a flicker of emotion and confusion passing quickly as he regarded his opponent. “I would as soon destroy a stained glass window as an artist like yourself. However, since I can't have you following me either―”
Clark pulled Richard more tightly to him with an impossibly strong arm in acknowledgment of the unspoken mutual respect between the two fantasy heroes. It was something they'd known well in the time they'd been together, indeed, in all the time they'd known each other.
In response, Richard leaned his head back into the crook of Clark's neck, nuzzling closer, turning his lips up to brush the spot beneath his lover's ear. Contented, the two men turned their attention back to the movie, with Richard's hand caressing Clark's thigh and Clark tracing gentle circles on Richard's chest with warm fingertips.
A while later their hands their hands were working in more intimate places, eliciting little moans from one another as the pair struggled to pay attention to the movie.
“Can you move at all?” the hero asked the Princess gently, taking her in his arms.
“Move? You're alive. If you want, I can fly!” she returned, gazing up at her love, finally returned to her after so long an absence.
But his concerned eyes wouldn't be appeased. “I told you I would always come for you. Why didn't you wait for me?”
“Well ... you were dead,” she admitted sheepishly.
“Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while,” he said, brushing her cheek with his hand.*
At that, Richard's eyes came up to meet Clark's, twin sets of sparkling blue lit with the fire of a love that had taken them so long to fully define and cultivate.
Without another word, Clark shifted from beneath his lover, moving to cover the other man's body with his own, arms on either side of Richard's head to prop himself up. Not that Clark couldn't have hovered, Richard decided as he reached up to pull the other man close, gripping his firm waist through his old t-shirt. Grinning predatorily, Clark descended to devour Richard's mouth hungrily. Lips and tongues crashed together, invading and retreating, teasing and tasting, hot and sweet.
Oblivious to the rest of the movie, the couple let passion sweep them away.
* * * * *
With the pale, winter morning sun peeking through the curtains to light Clark's face with an unearthly glow, Richard was reminded of an angel. An angel that had come to Earth and found him when both of their worlds had seemed to be collapsing in on them. Clark had been the bright star to light the way, their fragile love growing stronger as they fought against the grief of losing Lois. He'd become Richard's everything. The other part of his soul.
Seeming to sense his lover's thoughts, Clark stirred, his eyes fluttering sleepily open. “Mmmm,” he murmured, his thick, dark lashes blinking over sapphire orbs in the soft rays of the sun. “C'mere,” he said, reaching out to pull Richard to him, wrapping his arm fully around the other man and brushing fingertips up his spine.
Richard was more than happy to comply, fitting himself against Clark, their muscled bodies aligning and touching in intimate ways, warm skin against skin. “Morning,” he whispered, brushing a lock of dark hair back from Clark's forehead. “Pancakes for breakfast?”
Clark gave a slight nod, a contented purr rumbling in his throat and chest before he tipped his chin forward and graced Richard's lips with a soft kiss, gentle and sweet in the morning light. Richard returned a grateful smile, and the pair clung to one another in a tight embrace for just a moment, satisfied, fulfilled, happy.
Then, as he slipped out of his lover's arms to get up, the corner of Clark's mouth quirked up slightly. “I'll go get some coffee started.”
A lazy grin moving over his face, Richard watched as Clark slipped on a t-shirt and sweat pants and left the bedroom. He could hardly have thought of a better way to start a day.
* * * * *
*Movie dialogue borrowed shamelessly from "The Princess Bride". Someone else owns it. I get nothing.
Fandom: Superman Returns
Pairing: Clark/Richard
Rating: R
Warnings: Mentions of character death (not Clark!!), angst, fluffy romance, men kissing, slice-of-life stuff, and (egads!) an actual plot. O_o
Word Count: 2,040
Summary: Five occasions in which Clark kissed Richard. (Duh! :p)
Disclaimer: DC and WB own it all. I own nothing. Darnit.
Author's Note: Written in response to this artwork by lylith_st. Will be cross-posted. ^_^
Five Times Clark Kissed Richard
Richard couldn't help but notice the way Clark's voice wavered when he uttered his apology, the same words he must have repeated every ten minutes over the last five days. “I'm sorry, Richard.”
“Stop,” he finally returned, looking straight ahead at the flower-draped casket, not daring to turn to look at the man next to him. He simply couldn't have trusted himself not to break down into tears and just weep over the loss of his former fiancée. Not with Clark's devastated blue eyes and sometimes quivering chin. It just would have been too much. “It's... not your fault. I should have told Perry not to send her. I should have stopped her.”
He registered Clark's slight slump out of the corner of his eye.
“No... it... I should have been there. I could have been there. But... she didn't want me to... she said...” He sighed heavily, cupping his face in his hands. “She was so angry when I told her. She was... furious. And I... I couldn't...” His voice broke with a choked sob.
At that, Richard simply couldn't look away anymore. With tears slipping down his cheeks, he brought up a hand and laid it on the other man's back. “Clark...” he whispered, sliding his hand up to stroke Clark's hair.
Shuddering with a sob, Clark finally took a deep breath to calm himself and straightened somewhat in his seat, leaning into the warm touch as he looked at his friend. “I―” was all he could manage, leaning almost imperceptibly closer.
Richard took in a tiny, sharp breath, his mouth barely open, and Clark leaned the rest of the way over, closing the distance between them. Suddenly there was nothing but the two of them and their grief. Grief at losing the woman they both loved more than the very air they breathed. Grief at her anger toward both of them for 'sparing her' Clark's secrets. Grief at finding themselves alone with regret.
All of that pain was there in the kiss, as Clark pressed his lips to Richard's, all the fear and doubt and ugly, painful regret.
But buried beneath all of that, lie something neither of them ever hoped to have again... Hope.
* * * * *
Lunch and a walk through Centennial Park seemed innocent enough to Richard. They'd just finished a rather nasty expose on Metropolis International Airport, uncovering a smuggling ring going right through the baggage handlers, and a little celebratory break from the Planet was in order. The sun was shining on this marvelous April day, not a cloud to be found in the sky, the breeze just right.
And the company was more than pleasant.
Smirking a little at the errant thought, Richard glanced sideways at Clark, too lost in trying to figure out how to eat his hot dog and walk at the same time to be truly enjoying himself. “You'll never get it that way,” he offered laughingly.
Clark's eyes darted up and he nearly lost the entire dog as he still tried to get the unwieldy mess of condiments to his mouth. “Gah!” he wailed, barely managing to keep hold of it. Stopping in his tracks, he glared at the hot dog for a moment with longing and what appeared to be a deep sense of regret, then suddenly burst out laughing, his voice warm with sunshine.
Richard couldn't help a grin of his own. “Let's find a place to sit, huh?” he said, pointing toward a nearby bench.
“Yeah.”
The pair made their way over to sit in the shade, but instead of laying into their hot dogs, both men laid the gut bombs beside them on the bench, just smiling, enjoying the satisfaction of putting out a great story and having a spare moment to relax.
Clark couldn't remember the last time he'd relaxed, taken time out. In the past six months he'd thrown himself into his work, both at the Planet and in the suit.
If he were being fair to himself, he might admit that he was pushing it.
“Penny,” Richard said, breaking Clark out of his introspection as it began to turn more melancholy.
“Oh, um, I was just...” He shook his head. “It's been a long time since I really took any time out from work.”
“I know what you mean,” the other man agreed, his voice lower.
For a moment, the unspoken acknowledgment of Lois's conspicuous absence in their lives hung in the air between them, a weight that neither of them had been able to shed completely.
“Look, Clark―” Richard finally said, turning to face him fully.
But Clark cut him off with a wave of his hand and a shake of his head. “No. I know. It's not fair to either of us, or to Jason, to let... that keep up from moving on.”
Cocking his head to the side, Richard looked at him with a furrowed brow and a sigh. “You know, she'd be happy for us if...” His breath caught as he couldn't seem to finish the sentence.
A brilliant pair of jewel blue eyes sparkling with sunshine met him, and before he could blink, Clark's mouth was on his, lips firm and gentle, tongue tasting, the light touch of a hand caressing his jawline.
A flame rose up from deep within him as he responded, eagerly pressing into the kiss.
She would be happy for them.
* * * * *
Standing at the edge of the rooftop, Richard leaned against the stone ledge and gazed out over the city, watching the twinkle of lights on the autumn evening. Hearing the rustle of his occasional lover's cape behind him, he smiled faintly. “It took me forever to figure out why she came up here so damn often,” he said, not turning around.
“But you weren't surprised when you found out,” Clark said, slipping an arm around Richard's waist.
A chuckle at the bittersweet memory. “Heh. Not really. Who could have hoped to compete with you?” At last, Richard turned his head to look up at the taller man, leaning into his embrace in the chilly air.
“I never would have dared to take her from you,” Clark replied earnestly, leaning down to place a soft kiss on Richard's forehead.
The assistant editor closed his eyes at the touch, his face contorting with grief again, as much as he'd tried to move past it. “It's been a year.”
“I know.” The rumble of Clark's voice was low and warm, reaching right through both of their chests and resonating against the ache they both still felt. But Clark stiffened, and Richard knew what was coming next. “I have to go,” he whispered softly.
A nod. “Let me know if you can't make it for breakfast tomorrow.”
“I will,” Clark said, pulling away gently. With a wan smile, he floated up and over the ledge, turning to head toward whatever disaster scenario waited for him, but then stopped. Slowly, he turned back in midair, blinking heavily, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a quirky grin.
“What is it?” Richard asked, looking confused and caught by Clark's intense stare.
Still smiling, Clark floated back to the rooftop, and took Richard's face in his hands. “I... I love you, you know,” he said, before leaning close to kiss him.
Richard smiled back into the kiss as he raised up onto his toes to press closer, sighing. “Love you, too, Clark.”
* * * * *
Stretching out on the couch, Richard reclined onto Clark's lap, his back pressed against the other man's firm chest. Clark responded accordingly, shifting to let Richard get more comfortable as they watched the rented movie in the darkened living room of the Riverside Drive house. Bathed in the bluish light of the television, they snuggled together, glad to be spending the Saturday night in after the last few hectic weeks with Jason attending summer science camp and the paper providing more than enough work to keep them busy.
“Kill me quickly,” the Spaniard on the screen said as he dropped to his knees, his sword taken from him.
The Man in Black peered out from his mask, a flicker of emotion and confusion passing quickly as he regarded his opponent. “I would as soon destroy a stained glass window as an artist like yourself. However, since I can't have you following me either―”
Clark pulled Richard more tightly to him with an impossibly strong arm in acknowledgment of the unspoken mutual respect between the two fantasy heroes. It was something they'd known well in the time they'd been together, indeed, in all the time they'd known each other.
In response, Richard leaned his head back into the crook of Clark's neck, nuzzling closer, turning his lips up to brush the spot beneath his lover's ear. Contented, the two men turned their attention back to the movie, with Richard's hand caressing Clark's thigh and Clark tracing gentle circles on Richard's chest with warm fingertips.
A while later their hands their hands were working in more intimate places, eliciting little moans from one another as the pair struggled to pay attention to the movie.
“Can you move at all?” the hero asked the Princess gently, taking her in his arms.
“Move? You're alive. If you want, I can fly!” she returned, gazing up at her love, finally returned to her after so long an absence.
But his concerned eyes wouldn't be appeased. “I told you I would always come for you. Why didn't you wait for me?”
“Well ... you were dead,” she admitted sheepishly.
“Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while,” he said, brushing her cheek with his hand.*
At that, Richard's eyes came up to meet Clark's, twin sets of sparkling blue lit with the fire of a love that had taken them so long to fully define and cultivate.
Without another word, Clark shifted from beneath his lover, moving to cover the other man's body with his own, arms on either side of Richard's head to prop himself up. Not that Clark couldn't have hovered, Richard decided as he reached up to pull the other man close, gripping his firm waist through his old t-shirt. Grinning predatorily, Clark descended to devour Richard's mouth hungrily. Lips and tongues crashed together, invading and retreating, teasing and tasting, hot and sweet.
Oblivious to the rest of the movie, the couple let passion sweep them away.
* * * * *
With the pale, winter morning sun peeking through the curtains to light Clark's face with an unearthly glow, Richard was reminded of an angel. An angel that had come to Earth and found him when both of their worlds had seemed to be collapsing in on them. Clark had been the bright star to light the way, their fragile love growing stronger as they fought against the grief of losing Lois. He'd become Richard's everything. The other part of his soul.
Seeming to sense his lover's thoughts, Clark stirred, his eyes fluttering sleepily open. “Mmmm,” he murmured, his thick, dark lashes blinking over sapphire orbs in the soft rays of the sun. “C'mere,” he said, reaching out to pull Richard to him, wrapping his arm fully around the other man and brushing fingertips up his spine.
Richard was more than happy to comply, fitting himself against Clark, their muscled bodies aligning and touching in intimate ways, warm skin against skin. “Morning,” he whispered, brushing a lock of dark hair back from Clark's forehead. “Pancakes for breakfast?”
Clark gave a slight nod, a contented purr rumbling in his throat and chest before he tipped his chin forward and graced Richard's lips with a soft kiss, gentle and sweet in the morning light. Richard returned a grateful smile, and the pair clung to one another in a tight embrace for just a moment, satisfied, fulfilled, happy.
Then, as he slipped out of his lover's arms to get up, the corner of Clark's mouth quirked up slightly. “I'll go get some coffee started.”
A lazy grin moving over his face, Richard watched as Clark slipped on a t-shirt and sweat pants and left the bedroom. He could hardly have thought of a better way to start a day.
* * * * *
*Movie dialogue borrowed shamelessly from "The Princess Bride". Someone else owns it. I get nothing.