So... daemons. Animal of a different gender from yours = your soul. Tag one of the characters on here with a starter, post your own with or without a request for one of mine or play here as you like.
Caterin blinks awake at the mention of her name, stretches her little sugar glider body, and hops over to the breakfast cart. Yes, she'll have some grapes.
"Any morning breathing is an excellent one if I do say so," Alfred answers as he pulls the covering off the far - a small mountain of fresh waffles, fruit choices, whipped cream, syrup, so on, all in individual containers. Glasses of water, milk, orange juice, coffee. "And seeing Master Bruce with company is pleasing, this time." To Neoma: "May I offer you anything, ma'am?"
The lioness daemon is prowling a little, keeping an eye on their guests. It's not predatory but appraising; there's a sense that they aren't sure whether Clark is annoyed with this surreal setup or not.
Edited (repeatedly typos own imaginary animal's name ......... whyyyy) 2016-03-23 05:23 (UTC)
Neoma, for her part, flutters up to the top of the couch to look over at the lioness. After all, she doesn't think Caterin needs watching at the moment (even though she's more than a little enamored of the tiny sugar glider) and she hasn't met the lioness much before. She stares over and down and tilts her head curiously at her before answering Alfred.
"No, thank you."
Clark, on the other hand, sits up and lets his eyes go wide at the breakfast buffet.
"Oh wow. Um. Thank you. You didn't have to do that. But thank you."
Though he doesn't seem to be likely to refuse it. For one, it was good food. For another, it'd be rude to refuse hospitality. And-
"And I'm glad you're not annoyed I'm still here come morning. I didn't mean to sleep over without an invitation. But we both got some pretty good rest."
Alfred sets out a bowl of mixed fruit for Neoma anyway, in case she changes her mind. The lioness remains aloof, watchful of visitors on her territory.
"Certainly not sir," Alfred says as he prepares a plate for Clark, "as you say, you were able to get a measure of rest. Perhaps you haven't considered how rare that is for Master Bruce. I assure you, I am the furthest thing from annoyed. Can I offer you anything else from the kitchen, Mister Kent?"
"No, thank you, this is more than enough," he admits with a bit of a blush. "And I'm glad you... well, at least for the moment, I have your approval. I'll do my best to keep it."
He looked over at Neoma, who'd refocused on Caterine... and couldn't help a little smile. He wasn't sure of it, but if she was ignoring a fruit bowl like that...
Alfred carries on with his formal fussing for a bit before leaving Clark and both daemons to their breakfast, his own sending them a last appraising look before the door is closed behind them.
Caterin, meanwhile, silently offers Neoma a grape. She's got other fruit too, but grapes are her favorite, and she wants Neoma to feel special.
It's another unfortunately long-ish while before Bruce makes it back to the manor (it would have been over an hour had anyone else driven, but he took a Lamborghini and a police scanner). He tries not to look hurried as he comes back into the room, but his expression is sheepish.
Neoma takes the grape with careful claws, sliding the side of a wing against her paw as she does as a thank you. Nee feels so special. And a little giddy, which as far as Clark's concerned, is literally the most adorable thing.
Clark takes his time eating his breakfast before neatening the plate and placing it on the coffee table. Then he pulls out his phone and fiddles for a bit until Bruce makes his way in. He's greeted with a smile.
"Hey. You get Dick to school all right? Sorry if I made you oversleep."
"Yes. No, it's fine. I don't know why I didn't wake up on my own earlier."
As he talks, Caterin transforms to a skunk and hurries over to his feet, sitting and giving him a Look. (Look Translated: Are you flippin kidding, you stayed asleep because you were happy and comfortable and safe.) He stares down at her for a moment before bending to scoop her up, letting her burrow her nose against his throat.
"I'm sorry I ran out like that. I try to miss as few mornings as possible. It can get hard, with being out all night."
"From what Alfred was saying, you probably needed the rest," was all Clark said on the subject, "and to be fair, it was probably good for me too."
He straightened his shirt, sat up a little, and smiled over at Bruce.
"Now, I've already leaned on your hospitality long enough, but did you want me to stick around or should I get out of your hair? I don't have anything scheduled for the day." A little blush. "I kept it clear since I wasn't sure if it might get interrupted."
Bruce eyes the tidied remains of breakfast, as if suddenly considering Alfred's meddling for the first time. Caterin continues to snuggle him, obviously happy to be back with her human. (The distance is hard on her, he knows it is. It's not natural.)
"Oh-- I." His guarded look is his own version of deer in headlights. "You don't have to stay, I'm sorry if you felt held hostage."
Bruce is out of his depth. He's not going to make a decision-- he's going to defer to what Clark says, or he's going to end up assuming, and his assumption is always going to be the most negative thing.
Clark considers that question for a moment before smiling again up at Bruce and Caterin. There's a glance at Neoma, who does the bat equivalent of rolling her eyes before Clark lets a single chuckle rock his shoulders. Then his focus is Bruce.
"If you didn't have to worry about anything else in the whole world, no one's approval or disapproval, no deadline or work, no fear or worry. Total choice: what would you want to do?"
The deer-in-headlights expression gets worse. Might be teetering on bluescreen.
I would like to cease to exist, because I would have no meaning.
"Asking me questions like that doesn't go anywhere productive," he says after a little while. "Can we-- I'm sorry." Abrupt change in demeanor, his gaze moves away, looking anywhere but Clark. "I'm not any good at this."
He considers that with a little sigh. Clearly, he's not 'tired' of Bruce. But it's just as clear he wishes he could do something since he seems so... disturbed? Unsettled?
"No, what were you going to ask? 'Can we' what?" He looks up at Bruce. "The only one who seems to think you're not good at this is you, though."
He finally decides to lean in, putting his elbows on his knees.
"I was just trying to find out what you might enjoy doing. If you just want to make out on the couch, we can do that. If you want to go practice your katas in the cave, I'm happy to watch or read a book. Sometimes, it's just nice to spend time with people. 'Be alone together' is the way my mother always put it. Whatever sounds good to you."
He can't help another smile.
"You light up when you're enjoying yourself. What I want is to see that again, like when we were watching the movie together."
Bruce considers Clark's words, looking at him seriously. After a moment he steps forward and sits down next to him on the sofa, and Caterin tucks herself in against his knee, not yet wanting to move away from him.
"I do have things I need to do today," he says, looking at a space between them - Clark's hands, maybe. "Making out for a while sounds pretty good, though."
Caterin gives Bruce a sharp poke with her nose, encouraging, before she panders for a quick pet. After nuzzling into his hand for a moment she retreats, going to find a spot to sit (and maybe entice Neoma over?). Bruce watches her go, a little bit amused, before he looks back at Clark. Almost shy. He's hesitant to get too physical-- he doesn't want Clark to think he's some kind of sex-crazed weirdo, given what his drive is.
But...
He leans in and kisses Clark, casting aside his worry.
He doesn't need to worry about that. Once he's been told that they're making out properly, once he feels Bruce lean in and kiss him, casting aside some worry as he is, Clark ignites like a well-prepared fireplace. Nothing uncontrolled, nothing wild, but there's still a roar there and a definite heat. Yes, this says every kiss, every touch, more, please.
While Nee eagerly heads over to Caterin without a pause or concern. Because clearly, they're going to hang out.
Hang out they shall. Caterin is hoping for a cuddle, too, and maybe they can play with the crayons Dick left behind. (She really is so childlike sometimes.)
Bruce, though. There's nothing childlike about the way he responds to that sudden fire - it's like permission, or something finally said in a language he understands. He kisses Clark and touches him, fitting them closer together, climbing half into his lap. Clark tastes so good and he's so warm and every time he touches Bruce it feels like electricity.
Neoma immediately offers a wing for cuddling and she wouldn't mind at all if Caterin wanted to play with the crayons.
Clark, on the other hand, was going to pull Bruce as close to him as he could get him, in his lap if it worked out, so he could get his hands on the other man and kiss him without interruption. It is
Well, it's everything he's been dreaming of when he thinks of Bruce, thinks of kissing Bruce, only a thousand times better and he'd start tugging off Bruce's shirt to feel his skin if he didn't think he might spook him.
If Clark wants him all the way on his lap then Bruce is more than fine with it-- neither of them are slight enough for it to seem like it should work, but with how evenly matched they are, it works out. The whole experience of kissing and touching him feels erotic and comfortable at the same time, a strange, intoxicating mix Bruce hasn't experienced with anyone before.
Are they moving too fast? ... Does he care? It's almost unbelievable that Clark wants him so much, but Bruce knows he'd never fake it. He makes a low noise into their kiss, hands clenching on the other man's shoulders.
It's the comfort that makes it seem just right, the comfort that has Clark clutching for him and pulling him tight, kissing him with every ounce of his need and none of his pride. He's too busy enjoying every moment, delighting in Bruce, in the Bruce's own delight and hunger and the clutch of his hands.
He finds himself drawing back just far enough to rest forehead to forehead, to smile up at Bruce with such happiness.
Bruce's answering smile is small and shy - funny, to be shy after he and Clark have been eating each other's faces, but it's the emotional intimacy he's hesitant over. And there's no denying that between them, emotions are running high and strong.
"I almost can't believe it," he murmurs, raising his hands to touch the sides of Clark's face. "I wouldn't, if I didn't want you so much."
He's too selfish to shove it away out of disbelief.
It's so sweet. It says so much to him about Bruce, things he already sort of knew but it puts them in bold, in underline. People have all kinds of responses to what Bruce is dealing with, that hesitancy. This is...
This is all Bruce and it gives Clark a bit more courage to reach up and cup Bruce's jaw with one hand, the side of his thumb running over the cheek with tender affection.
"Believe it," he says with a faint, happy laugh just under his voice. "I'm right here. With you. And there's no place else I'd rather be."
Bruce's cheekbones are tinged with color when Clark says that, and he's immediately embarrassed at how touched he is. It's an effort not to squirm away to hide like a child but he knows that's ridiculous. In the end he leans his face into Clark's hand, into that touch. A little ways away, Caterin is watching them curiously, pink crayon held in her paws, curled up with Neoma. She's happy that Bruce is happy, but still not used to anyone besides her being physically close to him when he's actually being genuine. There's a hint of insecurity in her gaze, but she's too gentle to complain again like she had that day in Bruce's quarters. Instead she buries her nose against the other daemon.
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"Any morning breathing is an excellent one if I do say so," Alfred answers as he pulls the covering off the far - a small mountain of fresh waffles, fruit choices, whipped cream, syrup, so on, all in individual containers. Glasses of water, milk, orange juice, coffee. "And seeing Master Bruce with company is pleasing, this time." To Neoma: "May I offer you anything, ma'am?"
The lioness daemon is prowling a little, keeping an eye on their guests. It's not predatory but appraising; there's a sense that they aren't sure whether Clark is annoyed with this surreal setup or not.
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"No, thank you."
Clark, on the other hand, sits up and lets his eyes go wide at the breakfast buffet.
"Oh wow. Um. Thank you. You didn't have to do that. But thank you."
Though he doesn't seem to be likely to refuse it. For one, it was good food. For another, it'd be rude to refuse hospitality. And-
"And I'm glad you're not annoyed I'm still here come morning. I didn't mean to sleep over without an invitation. But we both got some pretty good rest."
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"Certainly not sir," Alfred says as he prepares a plate for Clark, "as you say, you were able to get a measure of rest. Perhaps you haven't considered how rare that is for Master Bruce. I assure you, I am the furthest thing from annoyed. Can I offer you anything else from the kitchen, Mister Kent?"
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He looked over at Neoma, who'd refocused on Caterine... and couldn't help a little smile. He wasn't sure of it, but if she was ignoring a fruit bowl like that...
He was pretty sure Nee was a little bit besotted.
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Caterin, meanwhile, silently offers Neoma a grape. She's got other fruit too, but grapes are her favorite, and she wants Neoma to feel special.
It's another unfortunately long-ish while before Bruce makes it back to the manor (it would have been over an hour had anyone else driven, but he took a Lamborghini and a police scanner). He tries not to look hurried as he comes back into the room, but his expression is sheepish.
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Clark takes his time eating his breakfast before neatening the plate and placing it on the coffee table. Then he pulls out his phone and fiddles for a bit until Bruce makes his way in. He's greeted with a smile.
"Hey. You get Dick to school all right? Sorry if I made you oversleep."
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As he talks, Caterin transforms to a skunk and hurries over to his feet, sitting and giving him a Look. (Look Translated: Are you flippin kidding, you stayed asleep because you were happy and comfortable and safe.) He stares down at her for a moment before bending to scoop her up, letting her burrow her nose against his throat.
"I'm sorry I ran out like that. I try to miss as few mornings as possible. It can get hard, with being out all night."
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He straightened his shirt, sat up a little, and smiled over at Bruce.
"Now, I've already leaned on your hospitality long enough, but did you want me to stick around or should I get out of your hair? I don't have anything scheduled for the day." A little blush. "I kept it clear since I wasn't sure if it might get interrupted."
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"Oh-- I." His guarded look is his own version of deer in headlights. "You don't have to stay, I'm sorry if you felt held hostage."
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"I wasn't held hostage," he says, keeping any laughter out of his voice. He doesn't want Bruce to think he's laughing at him, not at all.
"I was fed a delicious breakfast and got to take a little nap with the girls here."
He looks up at Bruce.
"I just don't want to overstay my welcome. But if you wanted to spend a little more time, I'd love to. That's why I stuck around."
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Bruce is out of his depth. He's not going to make a decision-- he's going to defer to what Clark says, or he's going to end up assuming, and his assumption is always going to be the most negative thing.
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"If you didn't have to worry about anything else in the whole world, no one's approval or disapproval, no deadline or work, no fear or worry. Total choice: what would you want to do?"
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I would like to cease to exist, because I would have no meaning.
"Asking me questions like that doesn't go anywhere productive," he says after a little while. "Can we-- I'm sorry." Abrupt change in demeanor, his gaze moves away, looking anywhere but Clark. "I'm not any good at this."
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"No, what were you going to ask? 'Can we' what?" He looks up at Bruce. "The only one who seems to think you're not good at this is you, though."
He finally decides to lean in, putting his elbows on his knees.
"I was just trying to find out what you might enjoy doing. If you just want to make out on the couch, we can do that. If you want to go practice your katas in the cave, I'm happy to watch or read a book. Sometimes, it's just nice to spend time with people. 'Be alone together' is the way my mother always put it. Whatever sounds good to you."
He can't help another smile.
"You light up when you're enjoying yourself. What I want is to see that again, like when we were watching the movie together."
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"I do have things I need to do today," he says, looking at a space between them - Clark's hands, maybe. "Making out for a while sounds pretty good, though."
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"Couldn't agree more. And we're on a pretty good couch for it, honestly."
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But...
He leans in and kisses Clark, casting aside his worry.
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While Nee eagerly heads over to Caterin without a pause or concern. Because clearly, they're going to hang out.
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Bruce, though. There's nothing childlike about the way he responds to that sudden fire - it's like permission, or something finally said in a language he understands. He kisses Clark and touches him, fitting them closer together, climbing half into his lap. Clark tastes so good and he's so warm and every time he touches Bruce it feels like electricity.
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Clark, on the other hand, was going to pull Bruce as close to him as he could get him, in his lap if it worked out, so he could get his hands on the other man and kiss him without interruption. It is
Well, it's everything he's been dreaming of when he thinks of Bruce, thinks of kissing Bruce, only a thousand times better and he'd start tugging off Bruce's shirt to feel his skin if he didn't think he might spook him.
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Are they moving too fast? ... Does he care? It's almost unbelievable that Clark wants him so much, but Bruce knows he'd never fake it. He makes a low noise into their kiss, hands clenching on the other man's shoulders.
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He finds himself drawing back just far enough to rest forehead to forehead, to smile up at Bruce with such happiness.
He's so glad he waited.
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"I almost can't believe it," he murmurs, raising his hands to touch the sides of Clark's face. "I wouldn't, if I didn't want you so much."
He's too selfish to shove it away out of disbelief.
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It's so sweet. It says so much to him about Bruce, things he already sort of knew but it puts them in bold, in underline. People have all kinds of responses to what Bruce is dealing with, that hesitancy. This is...
This is all Bruce and it gives Clark a bit more courage to reach up and cup Bruce's jaw with one hand, the side of his thumb running over the cheek with tender affection.
"Believe it," he says with a faint, happy laugh just under his voice. "I'm right here. With you. And there's no place else I'd rather be."
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