CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: Growing Pains
”You will be different, sometimes you’ll feel like an outcast, but you’ll never be alone”
Mark Grayson X Kryptonian/Clark Kent! Reader
Masterlist | Previous | Next
w/c: 7.7k
a/n: woo boy this is a long one! And it was meant to be even longer! In all honesty, I’ve had this particular smut scene planned for a while, like beginning of STS while. And am very glad I swapped where I write my chapters otherwise it’d either be a whole lot shorter or a no plot chapter— I still am not confident in my abilities, but hey, practice makes perfect. And I only proof-read this once, and it’s nearly midnight is I post this, so if you see any mistakes? No you didn’t.
c/w: The assumption that the Reader can fit in Mark’s clothes, use of the nickname baby, AFAB!Reader, brief shower sex (or handjob), handjobs, grinding, PiV sex, cowgirl, hickeys/biting, protected sex, (if I missed any, tell me and I’ll add them!)
The flight back to Mark’s place was quiet.
Though you really didn’t expect anything different. Mark had a tendency to stew in his own silence before the dam finally broke and he started talking.
He grabbed his bedroom window and pushed it open, floating aside so you could climb in first.
“You sure you want me here?” you asked softly.
Mark pulled off his mask and rubbed at his face with a heavy sigh.
“I can just go—”
“No. It’s okay.” He fumbled with the rest of his suit, sounding exhausted. “Tonight just… tonight sucked.”
You could only nod.
A tired smile tugged at your lips as you watched him struggle out of the top half of his suit. The material caught on his nose, leaving him momentarily trapped.
Despite everything, a small laugh escaped you.
“Don’t.”
“I haven’t said anything.”
“You laughed.”
Mark groaned as you reached over and helped pull the stubborn fabric free.
“There.”
“Thanks.”
“Let’s take that shower,” you said. “You still have gunk in your hair, and I’m pretty sure we’ll both feel better once we’re clean.”
“Probably.”
Mark crossed the room toward his dresser and dug through a drawer before pulling out a pair of gray sweatpants.
Then he paused.
Slowly, he turned toward you with what could only be described as an embarrassed grimace.
“I, uh, don’t exactly have any of your clothes for you.”
You rolled your eyes and reached into the open drawer, plucking out a pair of boxers. “I’m sure I’ll survive.”
Mark huffed out the faintest laugh.
Taking your hand, he led you into the adjoining bathroom.
The shower curtain rattled as he pulled it aside. Reaching in, he twisted the knob until water began rushing from the showerhead.
“How hot?” he asked, holding a hand beneath the spray.
You hesitated.
Then, slightly embarrassed, admitted, “I can’t exactly tell the difference.”
Mark glanced over his shoulder. His expression immediately twisted into confusion. “Really?”
“Really.”
“But you have, like, super senses.”
“I do.”
“Then how do you not know?”
You shrugged. “I guess my body adjusts too quickly. Cold water feels cold for about half a second. Hot water feels hot for about half a second.”
“Huh.” Mark considered that while testing the water himself. “I’ve never thought about it.”
“I barely do.”
A comfortable silence settled between you.
The kind that only happened when you knew someone well enough not to fill every gap in conversation.
Eventually, Mark moved away from the shower and leaned against the counter.
His eyes found the floor.
And there it was. The dam cracked.
“I keep seeing it.”
Your smile faded. “The future?”
Mark shook his head.
“Immortal.”
The bathroom seemed smaller all of a sudden.
“He wanted me to do it.” Mark swallowed. “He begged me to.”
Mark’s shoulders slumped.
“But every time I think about it…” He rubbed at his eyes. “I just remember how scared he looked.”
You moved closer until your shoulder brushed his. “Mark.”
“I killed him.”
The words came out small and raw.
You looked at him for a long moment before answering. “You stopped him.”
Mark shook his head immediately. “That’s not the same thing.”
“No,” you admitted quietly. “It’s not.”
That earned a surprised glance. His lips twitched like he wanted to sneer.
“I think if I told you not to feel bad, you’d know I was lying.”
Mark let out a weak laugh through his nose. “Yeah.”
“So I’m not going to.” You leaned your head against his shoulder after you wrapped your arms around his waist. “What I am going to say is that you’re allowed to hate what happened.”
The room fell silent again.
“You’re allowed to wish there had been another way.”
Mark stared ahead.
“And you’re allowed to be upset that someone put that choice on you.”
For a long moment, neither of you spoke.
Then Mark rested his head lightly against yours.
Eventually, he sighed. “We’re definitely watching the new season of Seance Dog after this.”
A laugh escaped you immediately.
“Don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not making fun of you,” you told him as you busied yourself with taking off your own clothes. “Now let’s take a shower before all the hot water is used.”
“I thought you couldn’t feel it?”
“I can’t.” You gave him a gentle shove as you shimmed out of your pants. “But Jimmy complains when it’s too cold, so I don’t want you to have to suffer through one.”
Mark let out a soft laugh under the spray. “I can handle a cold shower, you know.”
“Sorry, sorry,” you said lightly, tugging at a stubborn piece of fabric. “I shouldn’t have assumed we should cap the date with a hot shower instead of a freezing one.”
He rolled his eyes, but there was no real heat to it anymore. Just warmth underneath the exhaustion.
“I have the feeling you’re not talking about water temperature anymore,” he muttered, turning to reach for the bottle of what looked like two-in-one shampoo and conditioner.
The moment he did, you stepped closer.
Just enough that the space between you disappeared into steam and warm water and something softer settling in your chest.
Your arms slipped around his waist from behind.
Mark froze as your hands pressed against the tense muscles of his lower abdomen.
Then, slowly, his shoulders eased.
He didn’t turn right away.
He just stood there for a second, letting the water run over both of you while your hands rested lightly at his stomach, grounding him in something real after everything that had tried to pull him apart tonight.
You placed your chin on his shoulder with the intent of continuing to talk, maybe press a kiss against his jaw, but another sight had your brain completely toss that aside.
“You know,” You began softly, “If you want, I’d say this would be a good way to end a horrible date.”
Mark let out a low groan, your name sounding more like a plea than anything, head tilting back to rest close to yours. “You don’t have to—“
You didn’t let him finish. Your hand slid lower, fingers tracing the damp trail of hair that led down from his navel until they brushed the base of his cock, already growing hard as it slowly stood to press against his abdomen.
It twitched at your touch, the head slick and flushed, and a soft noise escaped you as you wrapped your fingers around the base, feeling the throb of his arousal against your palm.
Mark’s breath hitched, his hips shifting forward instinctively into your grip as your chin stayed nestled against his shoulder.
He murmured your name again, breaking into something raw and needy.
His shoulders had fully relaxed now, the tension melting under the steady cascade from the showerhead, leaving only the heat of his skin and the way his muscles flexed beneath your free hand where it rested against his abs.
You stroked him slowly, softly, fingers pressing against the sensitive underside of his cockhead with each pass, the friction hopefully eased by the running water and the beads of precum that leaked from him.
He turned his head slightly, lips brushing the shell of your ear as his hand came up to cover yours, not stopping you but guiding, encouraging.
“God— Just like that,” he rasped, the words vibrating through his chest and into your own.
Your bodies pressed closer under the spray, your nipples grazing his back with every movement, sending sparks of pleasure straight to the growing ache between your thighs.
His cock throbbed in your fist as you pumped him, the wet sounds of skin on skin mingling with the spray of water and his low, appreciative groans.
Your fingers tightened just slightly around the base of his cock as the last of his words faded into the steam, your palm gliding upward in a slow, deliberate stroke that drew a shudder from deep in his chest.
You trailed your nose up and down his neck, breathing in the clean scent of him mixed with the faint trace of what you assumed was cologne that the shower hadn’t yet washed away. You let your free arm slide fully around his waist, pulling your bodies flush so the curve of your breasts pressed against his back.
Mark’s hips rocked forward again, pushing his cock through the circle of your fist with a low groan that vibrated straight into your bones.
“You sound so pretty,” You couldn’t help but murmur into his skin. “I should do this more often.”
The moan that left him in response was downright pornographic, “You have no idea how good that sounds…”
You had to press your thighs together instinctively, feeling the slick evidence of your own arousal. You nuzzled closer, lips brushing the damp skin of his neck as your strokes grew firmer, twisting gently at the head with each upward pass.
You pressed a lingering kiss to the side of his neck, feeling the rapid flutter of his pulse beneath your lips as your strokes lengthened, your fingers gliding from base to tip with a slick twist that made his dick twitch in your palm.
Mark let out a soft groan as he reached forward, pressing a hand against the wall of the shower. His free hand reached back to grip your thigh, pulling you even tighter against him as he exhaled a shaky breath.
His cock just looked so pretty, the head flushed deep and leaking steadily as you worked him with increasing purpose, your thumb pressing firmly into the sensitive slit on each upward stroke.
“Ngh— Shit,” he breathed again, your name rolling off his tongue, and his hips began to move slowly, rolling with your hand, thrusting through the circle of your fingers.
You nuzzled deeper into the crook of his shoulder, one arm locked around his waist while the other maintained its steady rhythm, the wet sounds of your joined movements blending with the hiss of water.
Every glide of your palm sent sparks through you both, his arousal feeding yours until the ache in your core became nearly unbearable, your thighs desperately pressing together in search of relief.
“Baby, please,” he gasped, the words ragged and desperate, his hips jerking forward in short, frantic thrusts. “Fuck, I’m so close, I can’t—“
His pitch rose with each syllable, echoing faintly against the tile, and you felt the late hour pressing in around you, reminding you that silence, at least being as quiet as can be, was essential.
Your free hand slid up without hesitation, palm pressing gently over his mouth to muffle the sound, fingers splaying across his cheek as you leaned in closer.
“Shh,” you whispered against his ear, the command soft yet laced with heat, your strokes slowing slightly despite a whine. “It’s late. We need to at least try to be quiet.”
His breath came hot and ragged against your palm, eyes fluttering shut as he nodded faintly, the plea still vibrating through his body while you worked him with deliberate, twisting glides that made his thighs quiver.
You kept the rhythm steady, your own arousal slick between your thighs as you pressed the question into the damp skin of his neck.
“Would you rather finish here,” you murmured, giving the weepy head of his cock a testing squeeze, “or in your bed?”
Mark’s muffled reply came hot and urgent against your palm, his hips jerking once more through your fist before he reached out blindly, fumbling for the shower handle.
The water cut off and a sudden rush of cooler air, as he rasped, “Fuck. Bed. My bed.”
He then muttered softly to himself, “You were so shy last time, barely let me touch you with all the squirming.”
A soft chuckle escaped you, the sound vibrating against his neck, and you eased your hand from his mouth only to feel him twist in your arms, already stepping toward the door with his cock still rigid and glistening.
Water dripped from both of you in heavy trails as he nearly bolted for the bedroom, but your fingers caught his wrist, tugging him back.
“Not yet,” you said, reaching for the towel on the rack.
You dried him slowly. Ruffling his hair, dragging the soft fabric over the hard lines of his chest, down the tense muscles of his stomach.
He groaned, half-laughing, half-frustrated.
“You’re mean,” he muttered, voice rough.
You looked up at him through damp lashes, lips curving. “If I was mean, I would leave you to deal with this by yourself.”
Impatience finally snapped through him. Mark’s hands found your waist, lifting you effortlessly against his chest, your legs wrapping around him on instinct as he carried you out of the bathroom and down the short hall to his bed. The mattress dipped under your combined weight as he sat you down, his mouth already seeking yours.
As his lips slid against yours, you made the move to straddle him. A welcome move if the way Mark’s hands immediately grabbed ahold of your hips were anyway to go by.
Mark whimpered as you nipped at his lower lip. Hips jerked underneath yours as he began to try to guide your hips in a messy, urgent rhythm.
“Just like that, baby.” He praises, which has your cunt clench against nothing, when you begin to move your hips along with him. “Shit—“
His hands began to roam freely once you got yourself into a rhythm.
Palms cupping and squeezing your breasts before sliding down to grip your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he rocked his rigid length against your slick folds, the head of his cock dragging over your swollen clit with every desperate thrust.
“N-not even the tip,” you murmured the warning against his lips between messy kisses. “You’re not wearing anything.”
Mark answered with a low whine that vibrated through your joined bodies, his plea ragged and breathless. “Aw, c’mon, please— My desk… Top drawer, please, I have condoms.”
You were slightly embarrassed at just how quick you slid off and dashed across the bedroom to riffle through Mark’s desk for the box. Though to say you were desperate would be a gross understatement.
Mark let out a small laugh as you were back on top of him in a second, open package in your hands as you pulled it out.
“What?” You frowned.
“Superspeed.” He said, his eyes focused on your lips as he leaned up. “Eager?”
“You aren’t?” You turned it on him, trying not to smile too big when he slots his swollen lips against yours.
Mark pulled back just enough to say against your lips, “If I’m not inside you soon I’ll cry.”
That pulled a snicker out of you as you had to pull back.
The two of you readjusted. Mark moved back to sit where his back was against the headboard, and where he obviously enjoyed the sight of you needing to crawl to straddle him again.
Rolling on the condom felt like it took way longer than the last time, but when it finally covered Mark completely he was quick to pick up where you two had to pause.
Mark’s hands found their spot on your waist, grinding you against him. Letting out a low, appreciative groan when you picked up your waist to grab ahold of his cock and guide it to your dripping cunt.
Sinking down was easier than you thought it’d be. Though you were thankful you didn’t need to wait to adjust to the stretch like last time.
“Fuckin’ finally,” Mark sighed out, his head lolling back as his eyes closed.
You rolled your own eyes as you leaned down to press your lips to the column of his throat. Deciding to try to suck a bruise to the surface, the taste of his skin on your tongue as you rolled your hips in a slow, deliberate grind.
Your slick pussy dragged along the thick length of his cock, lifting your hips just enough to where his tip was barely still in before sinking slowly back down, grinding a circle against his pelvis.
The motion sent sparks of heat radiating through your core while your teeth grazed the fresh mark you’d left.
Mark’s hands clutched at your hips as they trailed up and down your thighs, squeezing the skin there.
He let out a moan when you pressed down firmer and you could feel his hips squirm and thrust up from underneath you.
You hid your smile with another kiss.
Lower this time, your mouth sealing over the pulse point where his neck met his shoulder; you drew the skin between your lips and sucked until the mark bloomed dark and possessive.
A low groan vibrated against you, the sound muffled and hungry, and you answered by nipping at his collarbone, then soothing the sting with open-mouthed kisses that left a trail of reddened skin in their wake.
Mark’s plea broke free again, ragged and desperate, “Baby, please” as you claimed another spot just below his jaw, sucking until the red bruise stood vivid against his flushed skin.
You needed to lean back and brace your hands against his knees to be able to pick up the pace. The slow grind up and down turned into needy bouncing as you wanted to chase the high that you just couldn’t reach with that.
One of Mark’s hands trailed up your body before his fingers curled into the hair at the nape of your neck. Guiding your face back to him as a low groan vibrated against your lips.
A plea spilled out of his lips, ragged and breathless, as his free hand found your breasts, palms cupping and squeezing, thumb circling and plucking at your nipples.
The motion started slow, your thighs flexing as you lifted and dropped, the slick sounds of your bodies joining the creak of the mattress.
His grip tightened, the hand that was in your hair moving to grab onto your waist, fingers flexing as his grip squeezed when you ground onto him.
Leaning forward, you braced your palms on his chest, rolling your hips in tight circles that dragged your swollen clit against him with every thrust.
Pleasure coiled tighter in your core. You felt his cock twitch deep inside you with each rolling grind, the thick ridge of him dragging against that perfect spot that made your walls flutter and clench.
Mark’s low groan rumbled up from his chest, raw and desperate, his plea breaking free in a hoarse whisper. “Baby, please— fuck, I need it.”
His fingers dug into your hips, urging you on. Pleasure coiled tighter, your pussy pulsing around him as the last remnants of the ruined evening dissolved into the slick, urgent rhythm you built together, his thrusts meeting yours with growing urgency until the bed creaked beneath the force of it.
Mark’s back arched off the mattress, his cock swelling even thicker inside you as his plea turned into a broken moan muffled against your shoulder.
You leaned into the heat of him, riding through the tremors building in your core, every drag of your walls along his length sending sparks racing up your spine.
The air thickened with the sounds of skin on skin and shared breaths, the connection between you deepening with every desperate roll until nothing else remained but the raw, healing pulse of your bodies locked together.
You rocked your hips harder, chasing that perfect friction as Mark’s cock dragged against your inner walls with every upward thrust, the thick head nudging deep enough to make your breath catch.
“We ended the date well after all,” you whispered against his lips, the words tumbling out between ragged kisses as your clit ground down against him. Mark answered with a low groan that vibrated through his chest into yours, his plea hoarse and urgent.
“Please— Fuck, don’t stop.” His hands gripped your ass tighter, guiding your rhythm as your pussy clenched around him, slick and hot, every roll of your hips sending fresh sparks racing up your spine.
The mattress creaked beneath you both, the air heavy with the scent of soap and sex as you leaned forward, pressing your breasts to his chest so your nipples dragged over his skin with each movement.
His fingers dug into your thighs, urging you faster, while his cock pulsed inside you, thick and insistent, the wet slap of your bodies filling the room.
Mark’s hips snapped up to meet yours, driving deeper, and you moaned into his mouth as the orgasm crashed over you in waves, your pussy pulsing tight around his cock. He followed later with a muffled groan, his body shuddering beneath yours as the last tremors faded.
You stayed there, chests heaving together, his arms wrapping around your back to hold you close.
You stayed there, chests heaving together, his arms wrapping around your back to hold you close while the steam from the forgotten shower still lingered in the air, washing away everything but the quiet pulse of reconnection between you.
But even as his cock softened slightly inside your still-fluttering pussy, you rolled your hips again, slow and deliberate, grinding down to keep him buried deep.
The overstimulation hit him fast, his body jerked beneath you, a choked gasp escaping as his sensitive length twitched and began to swell once more, the head dragging against your slick walls with every deliberate circle of your hips.
You felt bad for a second, but you could only think of it as repayment from last time.
“Wait— Fuck, too much,” he whimpered, voice hoarse against your shoulder, but his hands clutched your waist instead of pushing you away, hips bucking upward.
Your pussy clenched around him greedily, slick and swollen, each roll of your hips chased the edge for him one more time.
His thighs trembled under you, muscles locking as overstimulation pushed him higher, his breath hot and ragged against your neck until he shattered again with a muffled cry, body arching helplessly as the last spurts emptied him.
Only then did you still, easing off him with careful tenderness, his softening cock slipping free in a warm rush that left your thighs feeling sticky.
You collapsed beside him instead, pulling the sheets up over your sweat-slicked bodies before tucking yourself against his side. One hand traced slow circles over his chest while you pressed a few lingering kisses against his jaw.
“And if I said we should actually shower now?” you whispered, your voice softer now. Your fingers threaded through his damp hair as his heartbeat gradually slowed beneath your palm.
Mark let out a sleepy snort and nudged your shoulder.
“You first?”
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
“Mark!”
The sound of Debbie’s voice carried clearly through the bedroom door.
“You’re going to miss breakfast!”
That was, unfortunately, enough to get both of you moving.
“Oh, shit,” Mark hissed as he sprang out of bed, nearly taking the sheets, and you, with him.
You grabbed the edge of the mattress just in time to keep yourself from being dragged onto the floor.
Scrambling upright, you blinked against the sleep still clinging to your eyes. The room blurred as you stumbled around the foot of the bed, nearly catching your foot on the legs of Mark’s desk chair while reaching for your scattered clothes.
“Sorry, sorry…”
It took longer than you’d like to admit to find your bag. Which somehow migrated nearly halfway underneath Mark’s bed.
“How does that even happen?” you muttered, dropping to one knee and fishing it out by the strap.
Behind you, Mark was already pulling on a fresh shirt, his hair sticking up in every direction imaginable.
“Do you want me to go or..?” you asked as you pulled your top over your head, only half freeing your hair before hurriedly stepping into your pants.
“Stay,” he answered without hesitation while tugging on his own clothes.
You smiled despite yourself. “Okay.”
After slinging your bag over your shoulder, you crossed to the window and pushed it open.
“I’ll swing around front.”
Mark nodded, already running a hand through his hopelessly messy hair.
“Good plan.”
You hopped onto the windowsill before taking off, flying only a house or two away before touching down on the sidewalk.
You’d learned years ago that showing up instantly could be a bit unsettling. Especially for neighbors.
So you took your time walking back toward the Grayson house, straightening your shirt and smoothing your hair as best you could before knocking politely on the front door.
It barely had time to echo before the door swung open.
Mark stood there wearing the picture-perfect expression of someone who definitely hadn’t seen you in at least five whole minutes.
“Hey!” he greeted, stepping aside dramatically. “What a surprise.”
You fought back a grin.
“I’ve got a late shift today,” you replied, slipping easily into the lie by omission. “Thought I’d stop by.”
It wasn’t entirely false as you did technically have work later in the day.
Oliver, who’d followed Mark to the door, looked up in confusion. “Why’d you fly out of Mark’s window if you were just gonna come back and—”
Mark immediately reached over and shoved him lightly between the shoulder blades.
“Hey!”
“Mark!” You shot him a look before turning back to Oliver with an easy smile. “Morning, Ollie. What’ve you been up to?”
Oliver huffed, crossing his arms.
“We were supposed to go to the aquarium.” His expression fell. “But it was supposed to rain, so we couldn’t.”
“Aw.” You stepped inside, following the brothers toward the kitchen. “I’m sorry. Mark was telling me how excited you were.”
“I was.”
“Well,” you said thoughtfully, “the fish will still be there another day.”
Oliver considered that. “…I guess.”
You smiled, then glanced toward the kitchen where Debbie was finishing breakfast.
“And I’m sorry if I’m being a bother, Miss Debbie.”
“Never.” Debbie waved a hand toward the kitchen. “Grab a seat. I’m sure I made plenty. I even had Oliver set out an extra plate just in case.”
“That’s, uh…” You couldn’t help but smile, a little embarrassed as you slid into your chair. “Really nice of you, Miss Debbie.”
“Oh, honey,” Debbie chuckled. “You don’t have to thank me every time you come over.”
It wasn’t long before everyone had settled in and begun digging into breakfast.
Oliver, bless him, had a stack of pancakes that was nearly taller than he was.
You had to bite back a laugh.
Across the table, Mark noticed the generous amount of syrup you poured over your own pancakes and let out a quiet snicker.
You caught him looking.
“Sweet tooth,” you said, flicking his shoulder with the back of your fingers. “Sue me.”
Whatever comeback Mark had been preparing dissolved into an enormous yawn.
Debbie smiled. “Get a good night’s sleep?”
“I—uh…”
Before Mark could stumble through an answer—
“Mark wasn’t sleeping.” Oliver beamed proudly. “They had a sleepover.”
You froze.
The orange juice you’d just taken a sip of immediately went down the wrong pipe.
You coughed violently, setting your glass down before you accidentally dropped it.
“Oliver, what the hell?” Mark hissed.
“Stop kicking me!” Oliver yelped, glaring across the table before immediately turning back toward Debbie.
“The shower woke me up,” he explained matter-of-factly. “And I heard them playing.”
Oh.
Oh, you wanted the floor to open up and swallow you whole.
“We were watching a movie,” Mark blurted out far too quickly. “She hadn’t seen Back to the Future, so I wanted to— Ow! Oliver!”
You didn’t even have to look beneath the table to know exactly what was happening.
The rhythmic bumping confirmed the brothers were now engaged in a full-fledged kicking war.
Desperately trying to redirect the conversation, you turned toward Debbie.
“Breakfast is amazing, Miss Debbie.” You smiled a little too brightly. “Ma actually found this snickerdoodle recipe recently. I can bring it by sometime. She swears by it.”
Debbie smiled warmly as she finished her bite. “If Martha says they’re good, they’ve got to be.”
The tension eased just enough for everyone to breathe again.
“Moving on,” Mark declared, delivering one last retaliatory kick beneath the table before looking back at his mom.
“Mom… how much does it cost to rent an apartment?”
Debbie blinked. “Since when did you become interested in real estate?”
Mark hesitated and glanced toward you. You answered with nothing more than a tiny shrug.
He was on his own here.
“Well…” Mark rubbed the back of his neck. “We were kind of talking… about the whole process of getting our own place.”
You’d had that conversation before.
Mark had floated the idea once or twice. And having lived away from your parents already, you’d mostly explained the practical side of it.
Rent. Utilities. Groceries. Laundry.
The thousand tiny responsibilities nobody really warned you about.
You’d never imagined he’d actually been seriously considering it.
Debbie’s smile faltered. “Oh.”
“And you’re seeing Paul now,” Mark continued gently. “You’d probably like it better if I’m not walking in on you guys every time I come home after a fight.”
You suddenly became intensely interested in your pancakes.
This felt way too private.
Not unwelcome, exactly. Just not really your conversation.
Debbie sighed softly.
“You’re both adults,” she said after a moment. “You get to make your own choices.”
She looked between the two of you.
“But I like having you around.”
“I know, Mom.” Mark’s voice softened immediately. “I do too.”
He looked down at his plate. “But… I can’t live at home forever.”
The words lingered in the air.
Oliver, who had been quietly demolishing pancakes throughout the conversation, finally looked up. “But then who’s gonna hang out with me?”
“Hey, I’m not leaving forever, Oliver.” He tells him, “I’ll be like, a five-second flight away.”
Oliver frowned as he poked at his half eaten stack.
“Besides.” You try to add, “you can always come over. As long as you tell your momma where you’re going.”
“I guess…” He pushed his plate away from him.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
While breakfast was being cleaned up, and after being thoroughly shooed out of the kitchen, you decided to wait outside instead.
You stretched out across the Graysons’ worn stone back steps, lying on your back with your eyes closed, simply enjoying the morning. The sun had finally begun warming the cool morning air, and for the first time in what felt like days, there wasn’t an emergency demanding your attention.
Just birdsong, a light breeze, and the comforting sound of dishes clinking faintly through the open kitchen window.
“Enjoying yourself?”
The familiar voice pulled you from your half-doze.
“Very much.” You smiled as you opened your eyes.
Mark stood over you, the morning sun behind him, outlining him in a soft golden glow that almost made him look ethereal.
You couldn’t help but smile wider.
“You know,” you said as he sat beside you, “you wouldn’t just be moving in with me. We’d still have a while before we could find a place, and Jimmy would have to find someone to take over my room.”
“I know.” He settled onto the step beside you, resting his forearms on his knees. A nervous smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “It’s just… moving in together?”
He glanced over. “It’d make it official-official.”
“I think we’re already official-official.” You laughed.
He swatted your stomach, earning another laugh.
Though truthfully?
You liked the idea.
More than liked it.
You could picture it so clearly.
“You, me, Krypto…” You ignored Mark’s dramatic groan. “I’d love that.”
Mark reached down and intertwined your fingers with his, absentmindedly tracing his thumb across your knuckles.
“I just have to figure out how to afford it.”
“Might need to get yourself a job.”
He immediately flopped backward onto the steps with an exaggerated groan that echoed through the backyard.
“Oh, c’mon,” you laughed. “They’re really not that bad if you find something you enjoy.”
Mark covered his face with one hand.
“That’s the thing. Since I got my powers… I don’t exactly have any hobbies.”
You tilted your head, considering. “I’m sure you’ll find something.”
“I don’t know…”
“You could ask William or Rick.”
He peeked at you through his fingers.
“Maybe even Eve. They’ll point you in the right direction.”
“Maybe.”
“You’ll figure it out.”
After another peaceful minute, you pushed yourself to your feet.
“Well… I’ve gotta go.”
Leaning down, you stole a quick kiss.
“I should walk Krypto before I have to head to work.”
Mark smiled into the kiss before pulling back. “See you after?”
“Always.”
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
You couldn’t tell what exactly woke you that night.
The persistent buzzing of your phone was a strong contender. Though the heavy kick to your ribs from a dreaming Krypto ranked pretty highly too.
Half asleep, you reached for your phone without even checking the caller ID.
“Hello?”
“Oliver’s missing.”
Sleep vanished instantly.
You were out of bed before the call had even ended, throwing on clothes while Krypto looked at you in sleepy confusion.
Within minutes, you were outside Mark’s bedroom window.
He already had his suit on and seemed to have been pacing. The second he saw you, he slid the window open and stepped out.
“Thanks,” he muttered before taking off.
You immediately matched his pace.
“What if someone took him?” Mark asked, words spilling out faster than he could organize them. “What if it’s whoever was spying on us?”
You reached out, squeezing his forearm as you flew.
“If that were the case,” you said calmly, “I think we would’ve heard something. Oliver’s a tough kid. He would’ve put up a fight.”
You hoped you believed your own words.
You focused.
Heartbeats. Voices. Traffic. Sirens.
The endless noise of a city at night.
Normally, you could pick out the people closest to you. But you’d never taken the time to memorize Oliver’s heartbeat.
Now you wished you had.
“Maybe Robot could help,” Mark muttered more to himself than you. “Wait… shit. Should I call Cecil? He’s got cameras everywhere.”
But then you heard it. Laughter. Completely out of place for the middle of the night.
“There.”
You pointed toward a neighborhood park below.
Mark immediately started diving.
You caught his wrist. “Wait.”
He looked at you.
“Let’s watch for a second.”
The two of you landed silently in the thick branches of one of the large trees bordering the park.
Below, Oliver was laughing with two other kids about his age.
No makeup as an attempt to hide his purple skin.
Just himself. Just Oliver.
One of the other kids handed him a skateboard.
He kicked off, launched into the air, and landed a surprisingly clean trick.
“It’s not fair,” the little girl laughed. “You can fly!”
“You’ve gotta do it without your powers!”
Oliver nodded seriously. “Okay.”
He rolled back into position.
“You can do this!” the boy cheered. “Come on, Oliver!”
This time, the board slipped out from under him. But he hit the concrete with a groan instead of landing it.
Mark instinctively tensed beside you.
You gently rested a hand against his chest.
“Hold on,” you whispered.
The other two kids hurried over.
“You okay?” the girl asked, offering him a hand.
“That was hard,” Oliver admitted as she pulled him upright. Then he grinned. “But I almost did it!”
He grabbed the skateboard again and jogged back to the starting point. “I’m gonna do it again!”
“You can do it!” the girl called. “Just lean forward more!”
Your heart warmed.
Then headlights swept across the park. A car rolled slowly past. All three kids immediately ducked behind benches and bushes until it was gone.
Apparently Oliver wasn’t the only one sneaking out tonight.
The second the car disappeared, they popped back out laughing and resumed exactly where they’d left off.
“He made friends,” Mark murmured, unable to hide the smile spreading across his face. “Like… normal friends. They’re just playing.”
“Of course he did, hon.” You smiled just as brightly. “He’s a wonderful kid. He could make friends anywhere.”
You watched Oliver laugh at something the other boy said. “It’s just a shame he has to sneak out to do it.”
Your smile faded slightly.
Three older teenagers had wandered into the park.
Even before they spoke, something about their posture made your stomach sink.
“Beat it, shrimps,” the one wearing a backwards baseball cap sneered. “Past your bedtime.”
Oliver immediately crossed his arms. “Nuh-uh. We were here first.”
Another teen snorted. “And why the hell are you purple?”
One of Oliver’s friends nervously touched his shoulder.
“Let’s just go,” he mumbled. “I’m… kinda tired anyway.”
“We’re not leaving,” Oliver insisted. “You leave.”
The boys laughed, and the one in the baseball gave Oliver a shove. “I said get lost.”
“Hold on,” you whispered as Mark shifted beside you. “Ollie’s got this.”
“It’s not him I’m worried about,” Mark replied.
“Well?” The teenager looked down smugly. “What’re you gonna do, shrimp?”
Whatever concern you’d had disappeared the instant Oliver grinned.
In a blur, he zipped between all three teenagers.
And not even a second later, each of them was desperately trying to yank their pants back up.
Oliver stood a few feet away wearing the most unapologetically smug expression you’d ever seen. The three older boys shouted in embarrassment before stumbling away as quickly as they could.
You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing.
Beside you, Mark buried his face in one hand, his shoulders shaking.
“He’s a good kid,” you said once you trusted yourself to speak. “I kind of wish I’d gotten to do stuff like that in Smallville.”
You watched Oliver immediately return to practicing skateboard tricks with his friends, as if nothing had happened.
“It’s nice,” you said softly, “seeing that he gets to be himself.”
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
“So!” you began as you swung open the door to the tiny supply closet you and Lois had jokingly started calling an office, “what’s our assignment for today?”
But the answer didn’t even need to be said.
Not when you saw Lois’s bright smile as she turned away from her murder board.
And if the large photo of Payton Penitentiary, along with the scattered articles about breakouts, suspicious transfers, and violent incidents, wasn’t enough of an explanation, Lois grabbing your hand and immediately pulling you back out into the bullpen definitely was.
“Oh, absolutely not.” You laughed as she dragged you along. “I don’t even get to put my bag down?”
“Nope.”
“Coffee?”
“Later.”
“Lois—”
“You’re going to love this.”
That was the most concerning part.
Because whenever Lois Lane said something like that, it usually meant one of two things.
Either you were about to uncover something huge. Or you were about to get thrown directly into danger. Most times both.
“Payton Penitentiary,” Lois explained as the two of you walked toward her desk, grabbing a folder overflowing with notes. “Three breakouts this year. Five prison riots. Way too many attempted breakouts. And Guards reporting strange behavior from inmates before each incident.”
You flipped through the pages, eyebrows slowly raising. “That’s… a lot.”
“Exactly.”
“Could it just be a security issue?”
Lois gave you a look.
You immediately corrected yourself. “Right. Sorry. Dumb question.”
“Not dumb.” She grabbed her coat. “Just unlikely.”
You followed her toward the elevator. “What makes you think there’s more?”
“Because prisons have problems all the time.” Lois tapped the folder. “But this? This is patterned.”
You looked down at the reports again. “And you think someone’s causing it?”
“I think someone wants us to think they aren’t.”
You sighed. “Great.”
“See? You’re getting it.” Lois simply smiled.
Payton Penitentiary looked exactly how you expected.
A guard who greeted you at the gates and refused the two of you entry was tense from the moment you arrived. Like someone who had seen enough weird things that nothing surprised him anymore.
“So,” Lois began, recorder in hand, “walk me through what happened during the last incident.”
The guard standing across from her immediately stiffened. Not enough for someone who didn’t know what to look for.
But you knew Lois.
And Lois noticed everything.
“Nothing we haven’t already reported,” the guard replied, crossing his arms.
“And I’m sure it’s appreciated,” Lois said easily, not missing a beat. “But I’m interested in the details that you might’ve forgotten to tell us about.”
The guard’s expression hardened. “…No comment.”
Lois raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Really.”
“That’s interesting.”
“What’s interesting?”
“That every time I ask a question, you suddenly remember less and less.”
The guard let out an annoyed breath. “Look, Miss Lane, I don’t know what story you’re trying to chase here, but this is still an active facility.”
“We’re well aware.”
“And if you don’t have a scheduled meeting, you’re not getting any further inside.”
“We’re journalists.”
“And I’m a prison guard.”
Lois tilted her head. “Congratulations?”
The guard frowned.
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.” Lois stepped closer, lowering her voice slightly. “And I also know that something is happening here. Guards don’t suddenly decide they have nothing to say after three major incidents unless someone told them to keep quiet.”
“That’s enough.” The man’s jaw tightened.
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“No, I think we’re just getting started.”
You watched the exchange for a moment. Normally, you loved watching Lois work. The way she could turn a simple conversation into an interrogation without ever raising her voice.
The problem was that she could do this for hours.
You glanced around the facility instead.
The sterile walls. The security cameras. The guards.
And then, you stopped.
Because something caught your attention.
A man in a hoodie stood further down the street. And at first, nothing about him seemed unusual. Just another visitor.
Except he wasn’t talking to a guard to be escorted inside.
He was talking to Invincible.
Your eyes narrowed slightly.
Mark stood nearby, arms crossed, listening to whatever the man was saying.
The conversation didn’t look hostile, but it wasn’t exactly friendly either.
You filed the image away.
Ask Mark about that later.
“—and if you’d just let us schedule an official interview—”
“Lois.”
She stopped. Immediately. Mostly because you almost never interrupted her while she was in the middle of a lead.
She looked at you. “What?”
You gave her a small nod back in the direction of yhe Planet. “Maybe we should go.”
“Excuse me?” Her eyebrows lifted.
“We don’t have a meeting scheduled.” You gestured vaguely toward the guard, who looked far too pleased that someone was finally agreeing with him. “And he’s clearly not going to tell us anything right now.”
Lois opened her mouth and closed it a couple of times.
You could practically see her arguing with herself.
“But—”
“We come back with an appointment,” you continued. “Officially. Then he can’t use that excuse.”
After a moment, she sighed.
“Fine.”
You blinked. “That easy?”
“No. I’m remembering this.” She pointed at the guard.
The guard nodded, but you saw him roll his eyes. “Sure.”
Lois turned and started walking.
You followed, glancing back one last time.
Mark was flying away, the stranger in his arms.
Interesting.
You already knew this was going to be the first thing you asked about when you got the chance.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
Asking Mark over for dinner after work had been easy.
You knew he’d say yes regardless.
Promising him the greasiest pizza in the city had simply guaranteed it.
Now the two of you sat shoulder to shoulder on your couch, paper plates balanced on your laps while Krypto wandered back and forth with the unwavering determination of a dog convinced someone would eventually drop something.
“How was your day at work?” Mark asked, sliding his plate just out of Krypto’s reach as the dog stretched his neck toward a slice. “Not yours,” he muttered, nudging Krypto’s nose away. “Go eat your own.”
Krypto responded with an offended little huff before immediately trying your plate instead.
“Traitor,” you laughed, using your free hand to gently guide his head back toward your side of the couch.
“Good,” you answered. “Lois might not agree, but I think we actually made some progress.”
“Oh?”
“We might have an interview at Payton sometime soon.”
Mark looked up. “Payton?”
“The penitentiary?” You glanced at him, “Y’know, you were there. With…?”
Mark frowned and leaned forward, setting his plate on the coffee table before leaning back again with an irritated sigh. “Titan.”
That name immediately clicked in your mind.
You’d heard whispers about the man who runs the city as a kingpin.
It used to be a man called Machine Head, but after Invincible and the Teen Team fought and apprehended him and a few of his key players, a new man came into power.
If he was just as brutal as Machine Head, you’d have had a problem ages ago. But now? That part of the city was calmer than you’d ever remembered it.
Crime didn’t pay. Shouldn’t pay.
But you understood that with the power vacuum that was caused, Titan was probably the best man to step into it.
“What’d you two talk about?”
Mark shrugged his shoulders as he leaned forward to grab his food again. “Wanted me to break Multi-Paul out.”
“What?” That threw you for a loop. “He just asked you to do it?”
“Said some bullshit about some Order and dragon man.” He waved his hand.
“Wait, wait.” You could’ve sworn Jimmy had mentioned something about that. “Is it some crime syndicate?”
He nodded as he took a bite. “Why? Heard of it?”
“You hear a lot as a reporter.”
“Yeah, well, obviously I said no.”
You couldn’t deny and say that’s not what you would’ve done. “Did you offer any other way?”
“What? No.” He turned to you, face screwed up in confusion. “He nearly got me killed. He has killed. I’m not helping him!”
“I— I know! Just…” You chewed on your lip. “If he’s right and it could get worse—“
“Yeah, well, he’s not.” Mark was quick to interrupt and end it.
A nearly uncomfortable silence followed.
You wanted to continue, figure out more, but you know Mark would only grow more irritated if you pushed.
So you simply let it fall away.
For now, at least.
Krypto, apparently deciding the tension had lasted long enough, wandered over and rested his head squarely in Mark’s lap.
Mark absentmindedly scratched behind his ears.
A few moments later, his expression brightened noticeably. “Oh! I think I have a job now.”
TAG LIST: @mightymeick , @dandelion-delusion , @1abi , @bbmgirll , @giitchedout , @ficsthology , @drjeesusan , @qxuanii , @vrsin , @rosa-writes-stuff , @diobolicaldinosaur , @another-simp-ehe , @fauna-the-bizzy-bee143 , @panda7472 , @badbishsblog , @altumsomnum , @queendalia , @ra404 , @animelover100 , @pandaquick , @potatolady189
(apologies, I completely forgot the Taglist when posting—)
