True Love and Falsehood (SV, G)

[buggery]

So pearl_o posted some WIP ficlets in her LJ, mislabelled Dead Fic Snippets. I feel the need to point out that fic snippets never die, they just rattle around in the back of your mind (and your LJ and your friends' hard drives) until their time comes to revive and grow.

Case in point...

When I first wrote the first part of this, I thought it was a dead end and would never amount to anything. Then isilya encouraged me, with anvil-level subtlety, to write something sweet and cuddly, and suddenly there was more to it.

Warning: Entirely free of twisted wrongness.



I love Superman. I'm not in love with him, that love is all for Clark, but I love what he gives us.

I love that Clark can avert disasters world-shaking or pedestrian without worrying that someone will see him, because I know how he loves doing it. I love that he's a hero, and I love letting him go be one. I love watching him do it, knowing he's enjoying himself, anticipating the special, private celebrations that always follow his return. Sometimes that entails a kiss, sometimes more involved intimacy, sometimes just watching his eyes dance with joy across the table after he's ducked out of a restaurant to catch a derailed train or plummeting plane between courses.

I love that Superman allows Clark to be Clark. When the suit is off, or covered up, he may be listening with one super-sensitive ear for signs of trouble, but he's learned to relax between emergencies. I love that he can just be himself, shrug off that burden that's been passed to Superman. He can go to work at the Planet like a mortal, if mild-mannered, man. He can laugh with his friends and walk in the rain and visit his mother often. He can love me without that love being crimped in the vises of his lies and mine.

I love that all the things that make Superman seem so mysterious to the public are private jokes only the two of us know all of. I love that Superman is Clark's and mine, and Clark is only mine, and I his.

Even on nights like tonight, when we were just sitting down to a quiet dinner at home and that too-familiar expression of attention, urgency and apology came over Clark's face, I just smile and shake my head, telling him to go with a wink and a wave.

Sure, it's tempting to worry as I continue eating my own meal, but I've learned better. Odds are he'll be back before I'd even get halfway into working up an imagined scenario of actual danger to him. And if there should happen to be some crisis that requires more than a few minutes of Superman's time, I'll cover his plate and watch it on the newsfeed.

I'm just contemplating how long it would take his food to cool, and the practicality of warming it with heat vision, when a breeze gusts across my back and Clark is back in his seat between one blink and the next. His grin is infectious, and I doubt it could be any brighter until I tell him, "Come over here."

Beaming, he stands and comes around to my side. I can't help but chuckle softly at the warmth in his eyes and the sheer surface area of teeth he's showing, as I reach out to snag him by the waistband and pull him onto my lap.

Arms going around my neck, he tilts his forehead down against mine and looks into my eyes. "Miss me?" he whispers into my mouth, punctuating the question with a chaste press of his lips to mine.

I wrap my own arms tight across his back, turning my face into his throat; Clark's chin hooks over my shoulder as he hugs me back, fingers soothing down my spine.

"Did you go somewhere?"

By the time we stop laughing and he relinquishes his weightless perch on my lap, our food needs to be reheated after all.



a PSG psg_productions production

Yes, some of you have seen this before. I had a point to make. Plus, sharing is good.

Comments

[fox1013.livejournal.com]

Awwwww. I :heart: it.

I have nothing constructive to add.

[r1cepudding.livejournal.com]

Oh, *squee*.

Happy, light Lex. How wonderful.

[dryad-duinath.livejournal.com]

Aaaw...

So sweet....