Chapter Text
The first time Jason Todd meets Clark Kent is on a particularly slow Thursday afternoon. He’s long since finished the work he gets paid for, so he turns his attention to his bike.
The second the 2001 Toyota Echo pulls into his garage he knows something interesting is about to happen. If not for the fact that it’s practically falling apart, then for the frankly absurd amount of bumper stickers.
The man who steps out is just as ridiculous. He’s taller than Jason, which is saying something, and he’s dressed like he just raided Johnny Knoxville’s wardrobe. He’s wearing the blockiest glasses Jason thinks he’s ever seen; the lenses make his eyes look twice as big as they should. Honestly, he looks like the stock image of a nerd, except that he’s gorgeous. Like, absurdly so. His hair is so dark it seems to reflect blue in the sun and he’s got the shoulder to waist ratio most gym bros would kill for. Whoever he is, he’s not paying attention. Too engrossed in his phone to notice Jason approach.
“An Echo? Seriously?” The guy startles when Jason speaks, very nearly almost dropping it.
“It’s uh… ergonomic?” His voice is low but light.
“It’s junk,” Jason looks over the car. The red paint is peeling in some places and the metal rusting in others. He could make any number of guesses about what’s wrong with the thing and most of them would be correct. He tries not to judge when cars like this come in, maintenance can be expensive, but he gets the impression it’s not about cost with this guy. It’s a lack of care.
“Hey, don’t talk about her like that,” He pats the roof awkwardly, “She’s my little princess.”
“Right… you got a name?”
“Kent- Clark Kent,” He adjusts his glasses as he says it and for a moment Jason thinks it’s a joke.
“That’s dumb.”
“Are you always this rude to customers?” Jason’s not exactly known for his manners, but he tries to keep it civil for the most part. Something about this guy makes him want to poke and prod, “Anyway, I bet yours isn’t any better.”
“Jason Todd,” Nice, normal, boring, “And yeah, when they don’t take care of their vehicles, sure.”
“Jason Todd- that’s worse,” Clark laughs, “You know that’s worse, right? The dead Robin, the one that everyone voted to kill off.”
“I don’t read that crap,” He could never stomach it. All the hope, all the heroics. When he was small Jason had believed he wasn’t worth saving. As an adult he knows different, and it isn’t any less painful. He had been worth saving, only nobody cared enough to do it. That’s why he does what he does, “Now tell me what’s wrong with the car, except for the fact it’s a piece of shit.”
“I was kinda hoping you would know,” Clark rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, he’s entirely useless, “I don’t use it much but it’s making a weird noise.”
Making a weird noise.
Jason resists the urge to call him an idiot. Granted, most people don’t know the exact issue when they come in, but they’ve usually got something better than that.
“Leave it here, come back on Sunday,” He could probably fix whatever Clark’s paying for in a few hours, but it’d only piss him off to let it leave here without doing all he can, “I’ll see what I can do.”
He knows it’s bad business to provide services for free, but he believes that if he can help, he should help. Some might call it a compulsion, he thinks it’s only fair. And maybe Clark will continue to treat the car like shit, but Jason will sleep better knowing he did what he could. Besides, it's not like he’s drowning in work.
They exchange numbers and Jason takes the keys from Clark. He watches as he walks off to god knows where.
Jason spends the rest of the afternoon looking over the thing. The interior, he finds, is in surprisingly good condition. Everything else however. Well, it’s a miracle he was able to drive it here.
He spends the next day working on it. As it turns out, the ‘noise’ is a busted heat shield. It’s an easy fix.
He’s about to leave when he gets a call from Steph begging him to come out. She wants to go to some new club with her friends and that, for some reason, has to include Jason. As much as he really does not want to, he goes.
Jason’s barely got a buzz on, he hates being drunk but this isn’t the kind of place that’s tolerable sober. He hates clubs; the music is too loud, the lights hurt his eyes, and there are way too many people for comfort. He’s only here because Stephanie insisted upon it. He should be out on the streets, but he can’t keep blowing her off. She seems to think he needs more friends. He’d argue that four is more than enough. But he let her drag him here all the same, to mingle with her stupid college buddies. Who, might he add, are far too rich for his taste.
What he’s not expecting to see is the guy with the shitty Echo. It’s hard not to notice him considering he’s about a head taller than most people in this place. He’s bouncing around with some girl. She laughs, clearly endeared by his obnoxiously overzealous frat flick. She’s very pretty, they make sense together. So why is it annoying him?
The song turns to something slower and she grabs his hand, leading him and a couple others toward the bar. Toward Jason.
“Robin!” Clark catches sight of him. Much to Jason’s dismay. He whispers something to the girl and the group moves on without him.
Steph raises an eyebrow, looking between Jason and Clark. He considers pretending not to know him but it feels a little too assholish when the guy’s car is sitting in his garage.
“What’re you doing here?” Clark grins. He looks like he might actually be happy to see Jason, “Took you for an in bed by nine kind of guy.”
Ha. If he only knew.
Jason hasn’t slept before 4am in a long time. Even the nights he doesn’t patrol he spends planning or upgrading his gear. He’s been a night owl most of his life. After his mom died he’d started getting nightmares. After it happened the nightmares became night terrors and he stopped sleeping in fear of them.
He still has nightmares, but he’s not so afraid anymore.
“Could say the same about you,” There’s a brightness to Clark that makes more sense in the daytime.
“Heh, I don’t need sleep,” Clark smirks and Jason knows whatever he says next is going to be stupid, “I run on fun.”
“Jesus- right, I’m going for a smoke,” He’s trying to excuse himself but Clark follows him up the stairs anyway.
“Won’t your girlfriend miss you?” He hopes Clark will get the hint but he’s not that lucky.
“Laurie? We’re not dating- we were, then we weren’t, now we’re…” He searches for the right word but comes up short, “Well, we’re not dating.”
“Wonderful,” He deadpans, pushing through the door to the smoking area. It’s blissfully cool outside, quiet too. He takes a cigarette from his pack before offering them to Clark.
Clark hesitates for a moment before taking one. He sets it between his lips and leans in for Jason to light it. The little flame reflects in the lenses of his glasses and it looks for a second as if his eyes are on fire. His gaze feels just as hot on Jason’s skin.
Jason’s loath to admit it but he has a thing for pretty boys smoking. And Clark is, unfortunately, very pretty. Especially when he smiles, which he seems to do often and freely. He looks eerily familiar now that he can really see him, but Jason can’t place why.
“So, do you know what’s wrong with it yet?”
Jason explains knowing full well Clark isn’t listening, he can practically see the words flying over his head. Instead he stares intently at Jason’s mouth, nodding occasionally as if he’s paying attention.
“Basically, it’s worth more as scrap than it is to fix,” He finishes.
“But you’ll fix it?” Clark asks, “I know it doesn’t look like it, but that car is kinda important to me; it was a gift.”
“Should’ve guessed you’d be sentimental,” Jason puts his cigarette stub out with his foot, “I told you I’d fix it, and I will.”
“You’re a life saver.”
He’s planning to ditch Clark when they get back inside. To go back to his spot hovering on the edge of Steph’s little group. Clark has different ideas; he loops his hand around Jason’s wrist, dragging him toward the dance floor. They wind up back with Clark’s friends. The girl smiles at him like they’re sharing a secret, what it might be, Jason’s not sure. She hands Clark a drink and he knocks half of it back before offering it to Jason.
“It’s just soda,” He says, leaning in close enough for Jason to hear, “I, uh, don’t drink.”
“So this is all you then?” He knows better, they’re basically strangers, but he takes a sip anyway, “You’re just like this?”
Clark just stares at him for a moment before his mouth curls up into a grin. He seems oddly delighted by Jason’s disdain. Clark doesn’t strike Jason as someone who gets challenged a lot. When you look like that, people don’t often tell you no. If Jason had to guess, the novelty amuses him.
“You don’t know the half of it,” He’s still close, though the sound of his voice barely carries above the music. Jason watches his mouth move, transfixed by the way his dimples appear and disappear with every word. It’d be very easy to kiss him right now. In spite of himself, he wants to. Hooking up with a customer is a terrible idea, especially one he will have to see again.
It’s then that it hits Jason; Clark Kent.
Ironically, he looks like Clark Kent.
He wonders if he were to see him without the glasses, would he look like Superman too? The one from the comics, of course.
Jason still hasn’t formed an opinion on the real Superman. He’s hardly sure the guy actually exists. It’s been months now and he’s refused any attempts at media coverage. Most of the news about him comes in the form of shitty cellphone cameras and word of mouth.
Jason can respect it, but he can’t say he’s not a little curious. So long as he doesn’t interfere with Jason’s nightly activities, he doesn’t care.
“You know, you’re really-”
Fuck it.
Maybe he’s more drunk than he thought, maybe he’s just bored. But he pulls Clark down and kisses him.
It’s hardly a risk considering how blatantly Clark has been checking him out but he still feels relieved when Clark kisses him back.
“Hot,” Clark mutters, “I was gonna say hot.”
Jason’s not sure if anyone's said that to his face before. The scars tend to put people off. He’s a big guy; he’s tall and he’s broad with muscle. For lack of a better word, he looks kind of scary. He knows he doesn’t come off as approachable. Clark seems to mean it though, and Jason’s not going to complain.
“Save it,” Jason’s glad the light in here is low enough that the blush on his cheeks isn’t visible. He’s about to kiss Clark again when he pulls back.
“Wait, hold on,” Clark pauses for a second, pushing his glasses up into his hair. For a second, Jason is struck by how blue his eyes are. The glasses had done something to soften them, but up close and without the barrier, they look unreal. There’s an odd reflective quality to them; they seem to glow like an animal’s. It should be creepy, but it’s kind of beautiful. Jason assumes it’s something to do with why his glasses are so thick. If he were thinking more rationally, he’d mark it as weird.
It is better without the glasses bumping up against his face. Clark kisses like he means it. His palms are hot against Jason’s cheeks- it’s too possessive a move for how little they know each other but it stirs something in Jason. He’d forgotten how good it feels to be wanted, even if it’s only like this.
“Do you want to, uh,” Prime nods toward the restroom.
Jason doesn’t do this. He hasn’t done this in a long time, let alone in a club restroom. That might be why he agrees. He’s so careful about everything, it gets tiring. He tells himself there’s very little risk in this, the worst case scenario is embarrassment.
It’s surprisingly empty inside, there’s no one to witness them crowd into the same stall. The door shuts behind them and the lock clicks into place.
It’s way too small for two men their size, but that does nothing to dissuade Clark. He pushes Jason up against the door. He’s strong in a way Jason hadn’t really expected, but now that he’s looking he can see it. The muscles in his arms flex beautifully as he manhandles Jason. It shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does. He pulls Clark back in and holds him there with a hand clamped to the back of his head. Clark’s thigh finds its way between Jason’s legs and he has to try very hard not to grind against it. He’s considering giving in when his phone starts to buzz in his pocket. He tries to ignore it, but the second it stops it starts right back up again.
“For God’s sake,” He groans, pulling it out to check. It’s Steph, which means it’s probably important.
Jason hits the answer button, her voice is clear on the other end.
“Jay, where are you? We’re waiting for you outside.”
“Ah- Shit, I’ll be out in a minute,” Unsurprisingly, Clark has not taken the call as a sign to stop. He sucks a hickey just underneath Jason’s jaw and he has to work to stifle the moan, praying to God Steph won’t notice, “Gotta piss first.”
“Sure,” She doesn’t sound convinced but she doesn’t push it. She hangs up and Jason lets out a sigh of relief.
“Don’t tell me you had a girl this whole time,” Clark lifts his head, meeting Jason’s gaze. He doesn’t sound too beat up by the prospect. Doesn’t look it, either, if the hunger in his eyes is anything to go by, “How scandalous.”
“Just a friend,” He mutters, “I gotta go.”
It’s hard to make himself move. His body is very interested in finishing what they started. The weight and the warmth of Clark’s hands on his waist is maddening. It takes real effort to extricate himself but Clark doesn’t try to stop him. He lets Jason go with nothing more than a disgruntled huff.
“See you Sunday, Superman,” He doesn’t bother to turn around. If he had, he might’ve noticed the look of confusion on Clark’s face.