daemon au

[stands_for_hope]

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.

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[stands_for_hope]

"Whatever you need," he says, and he says it easily, but his eyes are watching Bruce. He will give him what he needs, but it's because Bruce is important, not because he doesn't care. He won't enjoy waiting. But he'll do it for Bruce and for Dick.

[frightening]

"Thank you," he murmurs. It means a lot to him - he's out of his depth, with a child, and he wants to protect Dick as much as he can. The boy is so happy and warm, but he has nightmares, and he spends all the time he can with Bruce.

"We've skipped a few steps."

That's alright. Talking like this makes Bruce feels more secure, though; plans they both know.

[stands_for_hope]

"Oh?" he asks with just a bit of a smile. Not teasing. Just... content. Pleased with how they've done things, with the way they are, and the potential for what they're hoping to be.

"Which steps are those?"

[frightening]

"Don't people go on dates and get to know these kinds of things about each other first?" First, before admissions of love, before weaving lives together. Even though Bruce hasn't said it out loud-- he doesn't know why he's afraid to, he feels it, he's just floundering. He's shocked Clark wants to put up with him, honestly.

[stands_for_hope]

"We've gone on... work dates," he says, thoughtful, "and just because we're doing it a little different doesn't mean it's wrong."

He shrugs again.

"I know the important parts. I think you do too. Everything else is just an opportunity to know more."

[frightening]

"I'm not saying I think it's wrong." Bruce looks at him, unguarded, so rare in itself. He looks like he's considering something, and doesn't add anything for a while; he looks down and takes one of Clark's hands, splaying his fingers, running his own over the lines on his palm.

"That someone could know all of me and want to be with me anyway isn't something I've even fantasized about. I don't want to mess anything up."

But I'm very good at messing things up.

[stands_for_hope]

"There aren't very many ways that you can mess this up," Clark tells him honestly, looking down at their hands. "And most of them, well... my very first instinct would just be to ask you why you'd done it and if that means you don't want to be with me. And if you still do, well... I guess we'd get through it, like any of our disagreements."

His other hand reaches up to stroke the hair back behind Bruce's ear so very gently.

"So I suppose when it boils down to it, the only way you can really get rid of me is if you don't want me. Because I do know you, in peace and in... well, war's as good a word as any. And I trust that man down to my soul. With it too."

[frightening]

Bruce looks at him, his expression serious. These are tactics - protocols, plans - that he needs to know and understand. It feels vital to know what the rules are, even if they're working on a just eyeball it scale. After a while, he nods.

He doesn't want to say Me too, or something equally stupid. But he feels the same way and what Clark's telling him is reasonable, logical. Solid planning. He's grateful that Clark is practical about it because Bruce-- well, he has no fucking clue.

"I'm happy," he says quietly, after a moment.

[stands_for_hope]

"I am too," he admits, just as quiet. And, honestly, just as fragile. Clark is confident, comfortable, but that confidence and that comfort comes from his belief, firm as it is, in Bruce. But his heart is as fragile as anyone else's. And he knows that the world can do terrible things. He just chooses to believe, chooses to have faith, in what they've decided. What they're deciding. In the bond that they have and all it comes with.

"And I promise to you that I will always be honest to you about us. If there's something I'm upset about. IF there's something I'm unhappy with. I promise you, Bruce, that I will tell you. You'll be the first one to know."

A softer smile.

"No guessing games. That I can promise."

[frightening]

Bruce nods again. Should he be talking more? Probably. But Clark loves him for some reason, and it's not like him to be so verbally expressive, so... maybe it's alright to say nothing, and let the look in his eyes and the way he squeezes Clark's hand speak for him.

It's nice. Like this. Just being with him out here, their daemons expressing everything on an even deeper level - playing and touching, joyous and affectionate. Caterin can't be somber now, despite her human. It says a lot.

[stands_for_hope]

Clark answers that with a nod back; as long as he's understood. Then he shifts a little, closer, careful of the branch's stability as he leans over to press a kiss in return.

Neoma is having the time of her life up there with Caterin. So much so that she's giving little bat squeaks, which she usually thinks are undignified.

[frightening]

The branches are old and strong; if Bruce were to topple off now, he'd just land on his feet, the drop barely higher than he is tall. When he was six, it was like falling from a skyscraper. After the kiss he pushes up on his hands and turns around, settling with his back against Clark's chest, so they can both look up at their daemons running around. He pulls Clark's arms around himself and laces their fingers together.

"They're sweet," he says quietly. Caterin is gliding from branch to branch, accomplished in her sugar glider form.

[stands_for_hope]

Neoma skitters after her with a few happy squeaks.

"They are. They're having a lot of fun."

Clark's arms give Bruce just a little squeeze, just a bit of affection. He punctuates it with a kiss to his hair.

"Let's use have lazy fun."

[frightening]

Bruce leans so that his head is back against Clark's shoulder, allowing them to nuzzle a little. His pulse picks up with it despite the plan to be lazy - he can't help it, being in Clark's arms and knowing how loved he is. The elation is a mix of that knowledge and the runoff of Caterin's joy playing with Neoma; Bruce is happy for her, because he knows how isolated he forces her to be.

"I can't remember the last time I was lazy," he murmurs.

[stands_for_hope]

When he hears Bruce's heart pick up a little, he leans into that nuzzle before leaning back; he doesn't want to push, but he wants Bruce to know that he's interested in that direction, that he doesn't mind the thought of such things in the least.

"A little lazy is good for the soul."

[frightening]

Oh, Bruce wants him. So much. But he doesn't want Clark to think he's overly focused on sex; he tries to ignore his desires, in that department, and still ends up sleeping around what most would deem 'too often'. It's always been a struggle for him to repress himself, and he doesn't want to put it on Clark.

And besides, if there's something to wait a little bit for, Clark won't get tired of him too quickly. Bruce tips his head back even further and noses the underside of the other man's jaw, a little sensuality along with his affection.

[stands_for_hope]

Clark responds with a noise almost like a purr, something that comes from his chest that Bruce can feel. Undeniable, his pleasure at that little gesture. He decides to match it with a bit of sensual tenderness of his own, a slide of his finger along the inside of Bruce's wrist.

[frightening]

Oh. That reaction does things to him. But it's not like they can do much, literally sitting in a tree; in response to that touch he opens his palm and traces his fingers against Clark's skin, barely-there. It's all just ... so, so good. Contentment and anticipation at once.

[stands_for_hope]

Yes. Clark wants him; heart and soul, of course, but also body. The barely-there touch to his skin gets a slight shift of Clark's hips and a tiny stutter in his breathing before he leans in to give a few more kisses to the back of Bruce's head.

[frightening]

He breathes out, letting his eyes fall shut as he trades soft touches with Clark and soaks in the other man's reactions. Bruce knows how passionate they'll be when things progress past making out, and that thought warms him and send the tiniest shiver down his spine at the same time.

"You feel good," he whispers.

[stands_for_hope]

"I could say the same," Clark says, a little more than a whisper but certainly not a normal speaking voice. Low and soft. "I like how your hair feels like this."

Without the product. Just... him. He likes the smell.

[frightening]

Bruce huffs out a laugh. "I don't like it styled either. I have to affect a certain degree of greasy jerk, though." The slicked-back Bruce Wayne look is distinctive of pure douchebaggery. It helps cultivate the image of everything he's not.

With unnerving ninja accuracy, Bruce reaches up and delicately removes Clark's glasses. He brings them down to run his fingers over the frames and eventually slip them on himself. Hm.

[stands_for_hope]

Clark smiles at that before taking the opportunity provided by missing his glasses to lean in and start pressing soft kisses at the back of Bruce's jaw, at his hairline, and can't help the soft sound of satisfaction as his arms give a small squeeze.

"Bet they look better on you than me."

[frightening]

"I think they're charming on you," Bruce says without trying to turn around - a little too much wiggling, given their positions, and he's comfortable. "When you aren't ruining your posture."

He knows the body language is so much more of the disguise than the glasses, for all his occasional ragging on them. But the few times he's seen Clark properly dressed, standing tall, with the glasses and boyish smile still... who thought the sweetheart Midwestern act would ever get to Bruce Wayne? And yet here we are.

[stands_for_hope]

"Thankfully, my posture is hard to ruin," Clark points out with a little smile as he continues the kisses. He's got you in his grasp now, Bruce. What will you ever do with this wealth of kisses?

"And I suppose they have... some charm." A tilt of his head. "It's not like I can argue with your aesthetic sense."