stands_for_hope | Superman, Firebrand, and the Metropolis Gang in... the World's Mightiest Duckling

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house of am

Superman, Firebrand, and the Metropolis Gang in... the World's Mightiest Duckling

[continued from here]

It took a few weeks, but soon enough, the apartment had become an entirely settled little commune between the five of them. Steve's things had arrived as Clint had promised, they'd been installed in the new apartment, and the group had made the changes they'd discussed for everyone's comfort with one addition: with Steve bunking with Jim, the room he'd initially intended to take had become a general office/library/art room for everyone to use when they felt like a bit of time alone. For as silly as the concept sounded, all of them had ended up using the room a time or two and it had definitely kept things peaceful despite the addition of two new people.

Considering that the apartment was home to four superheroes and a world-famous journalist, it was amazing how easily they all fell into a routine. Jim, Lois, and Clark would usually leave for work around the same time and Steve, always an early riser, had taken to making them something to munch for breakfast on the way after he returned from his morning run. Having also gotten a position at the community center (teaching kids art and art history), Steve would leave with Diana an hour or so after that. Everyone filtered back into the apartment at different times and whoever was feeling up to cooking would usually start dinner when they got in. If no one was feeling up cooking, one of the two 'old' men would treat takeout.

Today, however, Jim's site was currently closed for due to an issue with the plumbing contractors and some unfortunate flooding that had occurred overnight. That was why Clark texted Jim and invited him to come visit he and Lois at the Daily Planet offices and go out for lunch together.

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Now it was Steve's turn to go a bit pink at the ears.

"I'm... not opposed. To this idea. I mean."

His expression clearly said that he was deeply regretting having a vivid imagination at that very moment.

"I'm more interested in the sitting on than the tying up, I admit..." Somehow he was able to be so casual - so nonchalant.

Which earned him a nudge under the table.

But let it never be said that Steve Rogers didn't know how to rally. He sat up a little straighter and smiled right back.

"Something we'll have to explore when we get to that hotel, hmm?"

"Sounds good to me," he agreed. "Seems like we're quickly filling up our schedule for the evening..." That nudge under the table. Jim showed no outward sign, but he reached out with one foot to catch Steve's, wrapping his ankle behind his best guy's. Not exactly all that subtle, really, but he didn't care.

"Well, if we don't get to it tonight, we just save it for next month. Have something to look forward to."

And if his smile got brighter and he let his feet stay hooked in Jim's, well... no one could see under the table.

"Next month? Who says it'd wait that long?" He winked and took another slice of his fish.

He ran his thumb along Jim's hand and ducked his head, peering past blonde lashes as one corner of his lips curved up. It said, without saying, that he really wished he could kiss Jim right about then.

But instead, he pulled back a little to finish up his fish.

It was good fish, easy to eat, easy to enjoy, and he did eat enthusiastically, but as good as it was, there were other things he was looking forward to - like being out with his guy at the boardwalk. It'd just be a short drive from where they parked, but he'd still be impatient the whole way.

As soon as they were finished, the server appeared like magic, smiling over at the two of them.

"Would you two like anything else, any dessert or--"

Steve looked up and shook his head.

"I think we're good. If you're good, Jim?"

"We're ready for our check," he agreed, "but I really would like to send my compliments to the kitchen - it's been fantastic. And your service has been great. You're definitely getting some repeat customers."

But after she smiled and thanked them both, she returned with the check - which he promptly paid for, and wrote a big tip into the tip line. He was used to how those cards worked now, and it was just a matter of minutes before they were on their way out to the car.

She promised to pass along the compliments and gave them both a big smile as she collected the receipt.

Steve made a point of leaving a little something under his plate as well before getting up and gesturing to the door.

"To the boardwalk/?"

"Gotta move the car," he said, "but yep, to the boardwalk." His hand came to Steve's shoulder, arm slung around him almost like he used to. Just a foot of difference.

And if Steve let his shoulders drop a little and leaned in to help it work a little better, well...

It felt as natural as anything else.

"To the car, then."

Where Jim was going to get a kiss, because he'd waited long enough.

He smiled, even unlocked the door for him - but then jogged around to his side, knowing well what was going to come when he slid in behind the steering wheel. He'd wanted to since they'd gotten out of the car to begin with. He tossed his hat into the back seat before he climbed in, already reaching for Steve.

And Steve didn't disappoint, leaning in and reaching to rest his hand at the nape of Jim's neck to pull him in for a firm kiss. It'd taken a bit of practice, but Jim was a very good teacher. And he liked to think he was a half-decent student, especially considering how much he'd enjoyed the lessons.

He leaned into it happily, arms sliding around Steve like he'd been gone for days instead of just the time for a meal. But all of those little touches, their game of touching toes beneath the table -- he'd wanted to kiss him the entire time, and he'd come close to it, but propriety had stopped him. But here in the car - if anybody noticed, they were the improper ones.

Steve purred happily into the kiss and took his time with it, doing his damnable best to let Jim know how amazing everything was: the night, the restaurant, the clothes, Jim. Everything.

He breathed in softly when he got the chance before looking up at Jim.

"I've wanted to do that... pretty much since we stepped out."

"So have I," he agreed softly, fingers stroking along Steve's cheek, into his beard, down along his neck - being selfish for just a few seconds. "God, I wish I'd done this years ago. Wish I could've been brave enough."

Steve shook his head and dipped down to kiss one of Jim's fingers.

"It's happening now. That's more than I could have ever hoped for."

"I never thought the two of us would be... together. I thought roommates or living next door... Figured I'd just spend my life jealous of the dame that finally landed you." The kiss to his finger went right through him, leaving him very aware of his skin in the best way.

That got a soft laugh out of him.

"Pretty much what I was expecting."

But he'd seen how the kiss had affected Jim and he never could leave well enough alone, so it was practically expected that he leaned down and kissed another of them.

"God, Steve..." Jim took a shaking breath before exhaling a helpless laugh. "It's kind of crazy sometimes. You do something like that and I can even feel it in the arm I can't feel anymore."

Steve flushed a little and didn't kiss the fingers this time, but he did nuzzle them with his nose, soft and slow.

"I just... really like kissing you. And they were right there."

"I love it when you kiss me. It's..." He trailed off, smiling. Words couldn't quite describe it - or at least not any that came to mind with Steve touching him like that. But the thought surfaced, a tiny reminder that widened his smile. "One time - once I remember anyway," Jim started, voice quiet and warm, "I dreamed about kissing you. I don't remember how I'd got the money in the dream, but I'd bought this big ol' apartment for us somewhere uptown. It had this whole room that was nothing but glass, ceiling and walls, with this amazing view of the city. We had one of those couches like you always see in the movies, where the ladies laid back and relaxed - fainting couch or whatever - there in that room.

"I was layin' there in our balcony room, watching it rain on the windows above me, and the radio was playing. And then you came in." His voice had turned wistful, eyes mostly closed. This had been one of the happy dreams - probably one he'd had during summer, maybe even during a storm. Half and half, those storms. Either they'd made Steve feel better by damping down all the smoke and pollution or they'd kicked up the pollen from the flowers and trees and grass and had made him worse. No way to tell which was which, but he'd always had his hopes. "You had a whole room for your art there, and you'd been busy. Had the charcoal up your fingers, a little on the side of your nose, wearin' one of your white shirts with the sleeves rolled up, neck loose, and you smiled at me. Said something about watching the rain, can't really remember that part. But I remember telling you... I said, 'You don't have to worry about it here, Steve. I took care of everything. You're gonna be fine.' And the next thing I knew, I was standing there beside you with my hand on your cheek, and you looked up at me and you looked like an angel."

Jim swallowed because that... That, at least was still as vivid and still as true as the night he'd dreamed it. "And then I was kissing you and you had your arms around my neck, and it was perfect. S'one of the best dreams I ever had."

"That sounds like a pretty nice dream," he said quietly, peering across the space between them as his thumb rubbed slow circles at the base of Jim's neck, his cheek brushing past Jim's fingers.

"Doesn't sound too far off from how we've got it now. An apartment, space for my art, my arms around you and a bit of kissing. Maybe not how you imagined it, but... we got there. Even if I need to shine my halo a little."

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