Work Text:
The Groaner wasn't a hopeful man.
He was a happy man, for all intents and purposes, but he was a man of low expectations. And though that seemed to contradict the whole 'happy man' thing, he was regardless. He was happy to be alive. Pleased to not be incarcerated. Grateful to have on relatively clean clothing...
Hell, he was LUCKY to be alive after the OPTOCORP shitshow back in Aspen, lucky to have walked away with the ability to see and talk and breathe despite having a sudden skull for a face, no skin or musculature... Y'know it had been pretty much a no-brainer to turn to a life of crime after something like that happened but even that had to be taken in stride.
After all, if he hadn't been an unwilling guinea pig for CC Wheelihan's big bad corporation, he'd never had ended up in the crosshairs of his son.
And wasn't THAT good enough reason to be nemeses?
'Yeah, uh, the world knows your alter ego and oh, your parent's company turned my face into what you see before you' -- that was a fair reason to hold a grudge.
...But he didn't even hold that against Black Saturn. IF anything, he could hold the lack of his ring finger, his phantom finger, on the big fool. THAT was a life-altering event, THAT he could give Saturn a lifetime of shit about and honestly, given the chance, he totally would.
Like, it wasn't Black Saturn's fault that he'd been at the wrong gig at the wrong time... The finger thing, definitely. 110% him though.
And even STILL, when he was called upon by his arch, he still answered. Whether it was to simply play cat and mouse (learned a lesson after that one) or to inadvertently help him hook up with a robot (that one had left a peculiarly bitter taste in his mouth, for whatever reason...) or to break into the very headquarters of the company that had doomed him. He still went.
Hell, he still answered the phone even after blocking (and guiltily unblocking) his number. It wasn't like he was trying to make the other guy feel bad... and when he HAD been trying, it had backfired royally.
In fact, he'd ended up almost face-to-face with barely contained Black Saturn boner, the guy casually coming to terms with his bisexuality while strapped to a torture wheel.... Honestly, the Groaner would have to be totally full of shit to not admit that the scene had been hauntingly hot. Not the... mean ginger woman turning into a meaner ginger man, not that part at all. That part could disappear... No, when thinking back to that 'tender' moment of supposedly torturing his nemesis to death; it was a combination of seeing Black Saturn stretched out and restrained mingled with his truth that he thought he was funny.
Ahh...
That ALWAYS made a pleased sigh leave the clown. Always. See! It was little things, like THAT. A sincere admission that made the Groaner feel a little dreamy whenever he gave into the desire to think about.
He might be a thick-headed, finger-severing, spoiled dumbass, but he had a good heart and a good sense of humor and he made an extremely fine adversary.
Okay, so maybe that was a little bit of 'Mange' sneaking in there... Like, what were the odds that he would ever be able to drop his clown snake on the other guy's face? Though... Saturn was pretty proud of being a kinky shit, there might be another chance in the future.
No. No no no no.
The clown forbade himself from thinking about that sort of shit. Ever. Almost ever. Especially not considering that handsome dope of his.
Groaner let out a sigh, shouldering back into the couch he'd claimed for the night. This 'lair' sucked, there was no actual room except for this giant husked out shit hole he and like, five other dudes and a sort of dude were lounging in. There was no privacy, at least not like the last place where, though it was condemned, allowed him to have a goddamn conversation without having to go outside.
Pulling out his cellphone, he tapped on the screen and winced at the brightness, sitting up and holding the phone to his vest. Christ, always so bright but being the courteous clown he was, he took his need to text outside and started tapping way.
/Hey, ya busy?/
The phone was pocketed and the Groaner let out another sigh. He was just as weak as the other guy. If not more. When his phone went off with a little 'bzzt', the clown was a little too eager to pick it up, pushing away from the building as he started to read.
//Heeey nah, sup??//
/Bored as hell, was thinking about doing something/
//Sinister?? Evil?? Now? Gonna do it now?? IM TOTALLY READY FOR YOU GROANER//
This was good for a laugh and the clown rubbed a hand through his hair, shaking his head as he decided how to respond.
/Guess you're going to have to locate my whereabouts, Saturn! Good luck, sucker!/
//Are you gonna order for me again this time?//
/Do you want the same thing?/
//Duh//
Groaner did grin this time, typing back.
/Ill see you soon, don't keep me waiting/
//never!! cya!//
Phone sliding back into his pocket, the villain let out a little sigh and glanced over at the Arby's and smiled. What the HELL was going on, huh? He'd deny all day about ever thinking about Saturn in a, ripped guy strapped down to a torture wheel, writhing in pain and pleasure because of him sort of way, those thoughts barely ever (they totally regularly) crossed his mind at all... But he'd indulge the thought of maybe sorta having these here or there roast beef dates with the vigilante.
Okay, so they weren't dates either but... Well, what was it called when you sat on the edge of a rooftop with another man, windmilling sandwiches, sodas and curly fries until you were gradually 'escorted back home to make sure nothing evil happens'.
The clown shrugged, grateful that he was the type of simple beast that would privately indulge in his time with his adversary-- hell, it wasn't as if he was *hopeful* that the guy would turn up. It wasn't like he'd discovered what his favorite things were at the restaurant next door and felt kind chuffed when he got to order for him or that he felt bizarrely relieved whenever Black Saturn would step out of the shadows and smirk at him, just a tiny bit. Or anything at all, especially not a little embarrassed for whatever reason when the guy would then smile his dopey smile and help him with the food, starting to babble about whatever.
It was weird, realizing that he wanted to be in the other's company, to have his time, as much as it was apparent that Saturn wanted his.
But! It... probably didn't mean anything, just that they were reluctantly friends, not that they had grown a little too familiar.
"Sun's gonna be up soon..." The Groaner murmured, glancing sidelong to the smirking vigilante to his right, legs dangling over the edge of a building that was easy for them to get to the roof of, thanks to the fire escape and not the 'of dubious quality' grapnel hook.
"Mmm, got any plans-- evil plans for tomorrow?" Saturn interrupted himself to jackknife that in there, glancing back at his foe.
"Not really man, I gotta find a job or somethin'--"
"Arby's?"
"Nah, you know, don't shit where you eat sorta thing..."
"Yeah, THAT would be a bad relationship to fuck up, that's for sure."
The Groaner scoffed at that, shaking his head.
"Man, you got your priorities set, huh."
"What can I say, I'm a guy who likes meat."
"No kidding."
There was a pleasant, sassy silence that stretched between then and Black Saturn got to his feet, offering his hand to the still sitting clown. They clasped hands for not a moment too longer than necessary for Groaner to get hoisted up and then to the routine of collecting their trash, (so domestic) before the slightly shorter man stood with one red and white shoe on the cornice of the roof, hands on his hips. He trusted Saturn (and his grapnel) enough to make the trip down, versus the trip up.
"Ya ready?"
"I'm always ready. For anything, ever, Groaner, you of all people should know that." Black Saturn murmured, looking too much like a smug shit for the quality of his reputation and flipped back his cape, holding it open for the skinny man to get under. Both arms looped around the vigilante's neck and neither man looked at the other as they blurred the lines of whose personal space was whose. The grapnel fired off and within seconds they were whooshing dramatically to the ground, just to the posterior of the Arby's they cherished so much.
Was this reluctance? This sort of bitterness that he felt in his chest as he detangled from his nemesis?
No, it couldn't be. It was probably just the sudden fluctuation in altitude-- Black Saturn didn't have a similar look of longing on his face, did he?
"So... I guess I'll hit ya up tomorrow or something, after I wake up, see what you're up to..." The taller man trailed off, almost toeing the ground as he stalled.
"Yeah, yeah, no I mean, shit dude, I have nothing planned, like usual..."
Okay, so here was where it got awkward like there was supposed to be more.
"Right-- right!" A forced laugh from Black Saturn and the clown turned towards the door of the burnt out pizza place, eyes shutting. He knew exactly what the more feeling REALLY was but... he was a simple man.
He was grateful for the little things, the small stuff. Like that he even got to do this, that Saturn would even bother to answer his texts in the first place...
"Arby's maybe then?"
"It's a date! Err... uhh... it's..."
"It's cool man, I know what you meant..." He murmured, wanting quite badly to turn around and say something funny, get the guy to laugh at one of his jokes again but there might be a chance he'd see that lip bite and blow everything. "Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow."
Groaner waited until he heard the click-hiss of his nemesis' grapnel gun take him off into the twilight of the morning before letting out a light sigh and opening the door back to the Injustice League.
There was always tomorrow.