[ Right. Right, of course. Not everyone's a fucking trash goblin like John, who could live in a windowless apartment if there were enough cigarettes in it and he made liberal use of food delivery. ]
Well. Alright then.
[ He hops up and extends one arm to Clark so he might use it to steady himself, and with an accent as unmistakably Scouse as his, it comes out more like awright ven, but that's fine. ]
[ Clark takes it. He isn't even all that careful about squeezing too hard, given the fact his powers aren't working-- just grabs onto John and does his best not to lean hard enough into him that he falls over.
But! He does get onto both feet, so that's definitely a relief. ]
Okay. [ He doesn't think he's going to fall over, but he does sway a bit like he's just gone from six years at sea back to port as he moves along. ] ...thank you.
[ You're welcome. He is, isn't he? But it feels strange, to be thanked for doing good things, when John mostly does bad ones. Not always intentionally, and often because the ends justify the means - but it doesn't make it less odd. ]
Anytime, mate. [ He nods toward the door, then down the hall, stepping closer to wrap his arm around Clark's middle. This is also strange. ] This way.
[ He pauses briefly. ] So, question. Do you feel like shit when the sun's not out? Say, I don't know, someplace like London?
[ John's wrapped his arm around him, so Clark doesn't feel all that bad about leaning some of his weight on him. Not all of it-- he knows he weighs quite a bit-- but enough to keep him from being too pitiful as they walk. ]
Um, [ he laughs in surprise at the question ] no-- no, I have reserve power, like a battery. Besides, I still get solar radiation under a grey sky.
It's just... the curse? [ He sounds uncertain as to whether this is the right word or not. ] It sapped me of most of that energy.
[ John ponders this idea for a while. He's a warlock, sure, but he still needs basic human facilities, like sleeping and eating and... smoking, and he supposes it's both very convenient and very othering. To not need them is a constant reminder of this sort of lack of humanity, he imagines. ]
So you need a little bit of a tan and you'll be alright, is what you're saying to me. Ever tried tanning beds? Does that work? What if I shine a UV light on you?
[ John shrugs the shoulder that isn't pressed against Clark as they head down the hall, and down another and another until he uses his foot to push open a heavy metal door to the outside. ]
A guy can't ask questions?
[ Frankly, it scared the shit out of him, seeing Clark like that, but he's not about to say it. ]
No... [ But they're not really buddy-buddy, are they?
Clark chuckles, though. In the end, John is right-- whatever it is that's spurred the questions, it's probably better that they're asked instead of not. ] Hm. Hope this means you'll answer what I ask later.
[ As they step out into the outside and under the sun, Clark feels the warmth and light instantly. His body soaks it in, his grip on John loosening somewhat as his strength comes back to him-- it's both because he knows he'll have to hold back now if he held him, and because his feet are hovering over the concrete.
A breath. ] Give me a minute. [ And then he's rising gently out of John's hold, jetsetting only when he's at a far enough distance that he knows John won't be kicked back by the air pressure that the acceleration causes. He disappears past white clouds, unseen and unheard...
Then returns, colour in his skin and a healthy warmth to his cheeks. He isn't pale any more, isn't struggling to move, and lands with a graceful touch of one foot to the rooftop before the other one goes down, too.
Clark is grinning, walking forward and placing both hands on John's shoulders once he's close enough. ]
[ John's laughing, the rasp of chain smoking evident somewhere in his chest, and he shakes his head. ] Yeah. All right.
[ Sure. Why not? What harm could there be in asking questions? -- A lot, actually, but it's sort of whatever. Maybe Clark will forget about it. He can't possibly have super-memory too, that'd be an absolute ripoff. Entirely unfair.
He takes several steps back before Clark takes off, arms folded over his chest, tie kicking off in the wind as he watches him disappear off into the sky. ]
Showoff.
[ He mumbles it to himself, but with a ghost of a half-smile, and he looks startled when Clark, blue and red and looking as super as ever, lands again. ] Anytime, mate. I mean it.
"Anytime"? [ The amused note to his voice is very, very obvious, but Clark's never been one to hide emotion. ] Duly noted.
I'm going to do my best not to make getting beamed by magic a habit, though. [ If only because seeing the Justice League's faces all fallen and hearing Captain Marvel scream hadn't been the best thing.
Besides, John probably has better use of his talents than fixing problems that wouldn't have happened if Clark hadn't been fool enough to stand in front of Captain Marvel to protect him in the first place.
Hm. If it's all the same, I'd much rather coffee than have to save your arse again. I don't appreciate being scared like that.
[ John's smiling, though, and in the time Clark took to recharge and refuel, he's pulled out a Silk Cut and lit it, stuffing the lighter back into his pocket. ]
[ Smiling at the simplicity of it all, Clark rubs his hands briefly over John's shoulders before letting him go. ] Exactly. [ Funny. That goes much easier than expected. ]
Didn't know you were scared, though. [ And this comes out more apologetic than teasing, even if the idea of the infamous warlock John Constantine being scared is almost unbelievable.
But not all the way, not with his humanity still there. ]
[ John flashes him a smirk, cocky and arrogant and... defensive, shielded, like he didn't just admit he was frightened. He blows the smoke off to the side, because he's terrible, but he isn't actively rude, mostly. ]
... It, uh. It wasn't great. [ He glances down, then back up, shrugs. ]
I could tell you about it, but that seems mean. [ And he doesn't want to relive it, either. Doesn't want to think about a man he's used to seeing in strength and invincibility... like that, sweaty and pained and so, so sick. It was awful. It still is awful. John thinks he might see it again if he closes his eyes, so he doesn't. ]
I did my best. Don't, uh. [ John clears his throat. ] Try not to do that again, yeah?
[ Clark’s head turns slightly to the side as he catches something with his ears, and his gaze flicks back to John’s with something of an apology in it. ] ...but I’ve got to go.
[ There’s still the residual feel of pain in his muscles, in his bones—a ghost from a decidedly intense experience. But the world isn’t going to wait for him to be a hundred percent okay, and Clark knows he’d do anything for that world to begin with. ]
I’ll text you? [ He’s stepping back, feet starting to lift a few inches off the rooftop. ] I still want to know if you’d sleep with Wonder Woman or Aquaman. [ Because the angel’s surely out of the question, isn’t it? Isn’t it? ]
[ A frown pulls at his face, the corner of his mouth. What choice does he have? It's not like he can tell Clark not to go, not to do the thing that he's dedicated his long, long life to. So - he nods. ]
Yeah. Yeah, alright. Text me. [ He pauses, purses his lips in thought. ] And if you get your arse hurt again, you'll owe me a lot more than a coffee date. Be careful.
[ John reaches out to pat his arm. ] Wonder Woman. Go.
[ The laugh that Clark lets out is incredulous. ] Really? [ And he doesn't know why he's so surprised, why that makes him so amused.
He's rising backwards just so he can give John an amused tilt of the head and a stupid grin. ] So you'd marry the king of Atlantis, too!
[ And that's a fun enough answer for him to be smiling as his speed increases, moving from a gradual drift to a sudden quick rush. On the one hand, there ought to be a lot less construction disasters with the way safety codes have evolved over the years, but on the other, it's easy not to pay attention to the remnants of aches and pains in him, not when he finds himself still fairly amused at John Constantine's taste in marriage partners.
Clark makes a mental note to message him later. He'll just save the world a bit first. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Well. Alright then.
[ He hops up and extends one arm to Clark so he might use it to steady himself, and with an accent as unmistakably Scouse as his, it comes out more like awright ven, but that's fine. ]
Up with you.
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But! He does get onto both feet, so that's definitely a relief. ]
Okay. [ He doesn't think he's going to fall over, but he does sway a bit like he's just gone from six years at sea back to port as he moves along. ] ...thank you.
[ Then it occurs to him. ] Which way is out?
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[ You're welcome. He is, isn't he? But it feels strange, to be thanked for doing good things, when John mostly does bad ones. Not always intentionally, and often because the ends justify the means - but it doesn't make it less odd. ]
Anytime, mate. [ He nods toward the door, then down the hall, stepping closer to wrap his arm around Clark's middle. This is also strange. ] This way.
[ He pauses briefly. ] So, question. Do you feel like shit when the sun's not out? Say, I don't know, someplace like London?
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Um, [ he laughs in surprise at the question ] no-- no, I have reserve power, like a battery. Besides, I still get solar radiation under a grey sky.
It's just... the curse? [ He sounds uncertain as to whether this is the right word or not. ] It sapped me of most of that energy.
So all I am is desperately in need of a recharge.
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[ John ponders this idea for a while. He's a warlock, sure, but he still needs basic human facilities, like sleeping and eating and... smoking, and he supposes it's both very convenient and very othering. To not need them is a constant reminder of this sort of lack of humanity, he imagines. ]
So you need a little bit of a tan and you'll be alright, is what you're saying to me. Ever tried tanning beds? Does that work? What if I shine a UV light on you?
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[ And then he turns, looking down at John with a raised brow. ] Why so curious?
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[ John shrugs the shoulder that isn't pressed against Clark as they head down the hall, and down another and another until he uses his foot to push open a heavy metal door to the outside. ]
A guy can't ask questions?
[ Frankly, it scared the shit out of him, seeing Clark like that, but he's not about to say it. ]
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Clark chuckles, though. In the end, John is right-- whatever it is that's spurred the questions, it's probably better that they're asked instead of not. ] Hm. Hope this means you'll answer what I ask later.
[ As they step out into the outside and under the sun, Clark feels the warmth and light instantly. His body soaks it in, his grip on John loosening somewhat as his strength comes back to him-- it's both because he knows he'll have to hold back now if he held him, and because his feet are hovering over the concrete.
A breath. ] Give me a minute. [ And then he's rising gently out of John's hold, jetsetting only when he's at a far enough distance that he knows John won't be kicked back by the air pressure that the acceleration causes. He disappears past white clouds, unseen and unheard...
Then returns, colour in his skin and a healthy warmth to his cheeks. He isn't pale any more, isn't struggling to move, and lands with a graceful touch of one foot to the rooftop before the other one goes down, too.
Clark is grinning, walking forward and placing both hands on John's shoulders once he's close enough. ]
Thank you for saving my life.
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[ John's laughing, the rasp of chain smoking evident somewhere in his chest, and he shakes his head. ] Yeah. All right.
[ Sure. Why not? What harm could there be in asking questions? -- A lot, actually, but it's sort of whatever. Maybe Clark will forget about it. He can't possibly have super-memory too, that'd be an absolute ripoff. Entirely unfair.
He takes several steps back before Clark takes off, arms folded over his chest, tie kicking off in the wind as he watches him disappear off into the sky. ]
Showoff.
[ He mumbles it to himself, but with a ghost of a half-smile, and he looks startled when Clark, blue and red and looking as super as ever, lands again. ] Anytime, mate. I mean it.
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I'm going to do my best not to make getting beamed by magic a habit, though. [ If only because seeing the Justice League's faces all fallen and hearing Captain Marvel scream hadn't been the best thing.
Besides, John probably has better use of his talents than fixing problems that wouldn't have happened if Clark hadn't been fool enough to stand in front of Captain Marvel to protect him in the first place.
(He'll be better about it.) ]
Would you take future visits for coffee?
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[ John's smiling, though, and in the time Clark took to recharge and refuel, he's pulled out a Silk Cut and lit it, stuffing the lighter back into his pocket. ]
It's a date, then.
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Didn't know you were scared, though. [ And this comes out more apologetic than teasing, even if the idea of the infamous warlock John Constantine being scared is almost unbelievable.
But not all the way, not with his humanity still there. ]
...was it that bad?
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... It, uh. It wasn't great. [ He glances down, then back up, shrugs. ]
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John knows, though. And Clark trusts him. ]
But you fixed it. [ He smiles, nodding definitively. ] And I'll be okay and back for coffee before you know it.
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I did my best. Don't, uh. [ John clears his throat. ] Try not to do that again, yeah?
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[ Clark’s head turns slightly to the side as he catches something with his ears, and his gaze flicks back to John’s with something of an apology in it. ] ...but I’ve got to go.
[ There’s still the residual feel of pain in his muscles, in his bones—a ghost from a decidedly intense experience. But the world isn’t going to wait for him to be a hundred percent okay, and Clark knows he’d do anything for that world to begin with. ]
I’ll text you? [ He’s stepping back, feet starting to lift a few inches off the rooftop. ] I still want to know if you’d sleep with Wonder Woman or Aquaman. [ Because the angel’s surely out of the question, isn’t it? Isn’t it? ]
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Yeah. Yeah, alright. Text me. [ He pauses, purses his lips in thought. ] And if you get your arse hurt again, you'll owe me a lot more than a coffee date. Be careful.
[ John reaches out to pat his arm. ] Wonder Woman. Go.
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He's rising backwards just so he can give John an amused tilt of the head and a stupid grin. ] So you'd marry the king of Atlantis, too!
[ And that's a fun enough answer for him to be smiling as his speed increases, moving from a gradual drift to a sudden quick rush. On the one hand, there ought to be a lot less construction disasters with the way safety codes have evolved over the years, but on the other, it's easy not to pay attention to the remnants of aches and pains in him, not when he finds himself still fairly amused at John Constantine's taste in marriage partners.
Clark makes a mental note to message him later. He'll just save the world a bit first. ]