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Jay opened his eyes to sunlight. He closed them again, rolled over, and burrowed into his pillows, content to doze until his alarm went off. It was an unusually quiet morning in Metropolis, it seemed, if the light woke him before the sounds of people and cars could do the job. Whatever the cause, he was exhausted. A few more minutes of sleep wouldn’t hurt.
He was nearly asleep again when the feeling of wrongness crept up his spine and forced his eyes open again.
This was all wrong. His bed in Metropolis wasn’t rock-hard, but Jay hadn’t slept on a bed this soft in years. And the sunlight through the window shouldn’t have been possible, unless he had somehow slept through the day completely. His window faced west, to the sunset, not the sunrise. There shouldn’t be light coming through his windows in the morning. The last time he had a bedroom with east-facing windows was—
Gamorra.
Jay bolted upright and grasped for his glasses.
The room was too big to be his apartment, and the photos taped to his walls showcased friends he hadn’t seen in years. There were his old band posters and a little cactus on his windowsill and the tiny Gamorran flag sticking out of a cup on his desk.
It was just as he remembered. As if the last years of his life had been nothing more than a nightmare. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he wiped them away before they could fall.
He had dreamed this before, in between nightmares of experiments and dictatorships and fleeing for his life. It was almost worse.
But, if this was going to be a pleasant dream, he wanted to make the most of it.
He stood and grabbed his favorite sweater from the floor next to his bed. He hadn’t taken anything from home with him when he left, including the ever-soft sweater he had gotten on a trip to Metropolis with his mom after she was elected.
Soft sounds drifted down the hall from the kitchen, so his mom hadn’t left for work yet. He hurried out of his room and padded towards the source of the noise. The sound clarified as he wandered closer, until he could hear water boiling and his mom humming a pop song that played every hour on the radio. They both hated the song, but he still caught her singing along under her breath while she read through policy agreements.
She looked up as he stepped into the doorway and smiled.
“Good morning, love. I thought you’d sleep a little later,” she said, and the shock of hearing his native language nearly brought him back to tears. “I’m making tea, if you want some.”
Jay knew he should join her, but he was rooted in the doorway, taking in the kitchen. There was the table, still with three places set even though his father had died before he was 8 years old. The counters where his mom had patiently walked him through the steps to make all of their favorite recipes. The first article he wrote for his made-up newspaper when he was 6, still stuck on the fridge despite his pleas for it to be taken down before he brought a date home.
“Jay?” His mom asked when his silence stretched too long, “Are you feeling alright?”
“Yeah, sorry. Just had a super weird dream.” Speaking Gamorran was as natural as breathing, but something about it felt too sacred. It had been so long since he had spoken to someone in his native language. He had almost wondered if he would never get to use it again.
He joined her at the counter, pulling out the honey for his mom and the sugar for himself. They fell into the familiar rhythm. Jay pulled out their favorite mugs. His mom put the leaves in the infusers. Jay poured water over the leaves. His mom covered the mugs. Neither spoke, and the peace of the morning wrapped around them like a hug.
When their tea finished steeping, they both added their chosen sweeteners.
It was all too much. He wanted to shut his eyes and open them to his bedroom in Metropolis. To forget this had happened, that his home had been dangled in front of his face as a stinging reminder of the one place he could never return to.
More than that, he wanted to curl up in his mother’s arms and let her run her hands through his hair and tell him that she loved him.
“Did you have plans today?” His mom asked as she neared the bottom of her mug.
“No, I was going to stay here and relax. I haven’t spent enough time at home recently.”
She laughed, “Funny, I was going to do the same thing. Work’s been so hectic recently, I want to spend time with my favorite son.”
“Your only son.”
“All the more reason to spend time with you. Tell me what’s been going on recently. Any new stories you’re working on?”
This wasn’t real, so he could really say anything. Still, he told a version of the truth that was comfortably vague. “I’m interested in the politics of superheroes. How they get involved, or avoid getting involved. It’s still a work-in-progress, but I think I’ve got some important stuff here.”
“Sounds interesting.” She took a sip of her tea, and it left a little cloud of fog at the bottom of her glasses. “Any superheroes in particular? Or is this more general?”
“So far, it’s been mostly focused on Superman.”
His mom leaned back in her chair and said, “No starting small for you, huh? I know how you are with your works-in-progress, so I won’t ask to read it until you’re ready, but I hope that I get to read it eventually.”
For a moment, Jay could only nod, not trusting his voice to sound steady if he spoke. After a deep breath, he said, “You will. I promise.”
And that was all he wanted, really. When everything was over with Bendix, when he got his mom and his country back. He wanted to show her everything he had worked on—how hard he had fought to make things right again.
He busied himself with collecting both of their empty cups before he could start crying again. There was no real need to wash them, since this would all vanish as soon as he woke up, but it felt nice to pretend that this was real.
“How has work been?” he asked over his shoulder as he filled both mugs with clean water.
“Ah, exhausting as ever. I can’t talk about most of it, but things seem to be doing well, for the moment.”
“I hope it stays that way,” he said.
“Me too, love. But, I don’t want to bore you with bland political stuff. Tell me more about what you’re up to. Any cute boys I should know about?”
Her mug nearly slipped out of his hands. He was glad he was facing away from her, so she couldn’t see the blush rising on his cheeks. “Mom!”
She laughed. “Sorry, sorry. Don’t answer if you don’t want to.”
He set down the clean mug and turned to lean against the counter. His mom wore a knowing look on her face, eyebrows raised and mouth curled in a barely suppressed smile. He sighed. “There…might…be a boy.”
Her smile turned triumphant. “Might?”
“It’s very new.” He had wanted this, too. To tell his mom about Jon, about how happy and safe he made Jay feel. Even if this was a dream, he wanted to share it with her. One day, he hoped he would get to tell her everything for real.
“Tell me about him.”
“He’s taller than me.” She nodded, as if that was the all-important criteria in a suitor. “He cares so much for others, he’s almost too good to be true, sometimes. He does so much for people, it’s incredible.”
“He sounds lovely, what’s his name?”
He couldn’t keep the soft sigh from his voice as he answered, “Jon.”
“I hope I get to meet him soon. He sounds like a lovely young man.”
“I hope so too. You’ll love him.”
“If you love him, I’m sure I will as well.” She smiled gently, but it faded from her face after a few moments of silence. When she spoke again, her voice was soft. “Our time is short.”
“Mom—”
She hushed him and stood from the table. “Come here, love, it’s alright.”
He obeyed her request, shuffling into her open arms. She held him, and he held her back just as tight. He could feel it now: the room around them was fading. Sounds of a city overtook the quiet music. “Please don’t go, mom. I don’t want to be alone again.”
She pulled back from the hug and tilted his chin up to meet her eyes. He could count on one hand the number of times he had seen her cry, and even in a dream it was excruciating to see tears sticking in her eyelashes. “You don’t have to be.”
Her hand came up to cradle his cheek, and Jay knew his dream was ending. It always ended too soon. “I miss you,” he said as his tears finally spilled over.
His mom smiled sadly, and her thumb gently brushed one tear away. She kissed his forehead. She pulled him into a hug. “Oh, my love. I miss you too. But it’s time to wake up. We’ll see each other again soon.”
It was ending, and he wanted nothing more than to stay just like this.
He closed his eyes and buried his face in her shoulder. He pulled her as close as he could, as if he could physically hold himself in the dream. “Please,” he said, barely conscious of the desperate edge in his voice, “Let me stay here. Just a little longer.”
She didn’t answer. Her arms around him vanished, replaced by the arms of the strangers dragging him away from her for the last time.
When Jay woke up—really woke up—to the ever-present rumblings of traffic and busy citizens that he had come to associate with mornings in Metropolis, he wanted to scream. The constant ache of homesickness had grown into a black hole of futile desire, as if his chest had caved in on itself and was eating him away from the inside.
He didn’t scream, only because he knew that Jon would appear at the sound of his voice, and Superman had better things to do than tend to his boyfriend after a dream. It hadn’t even been a nightmare. It was a pleasant, happy dream.
So, he got up. He made himself coffee—he had run out of tea weeks ago and never got the chance to buy more—and he sat at his desk, and he went through the morning headlines. Lois had put out a piece detailing new evidence implicating a local CEO in fraud and money laundering. It wasn’t a case Jay had been following closely, but it helped pull him out of the lingering fog his memories had left behind.
After a couple of hours of half-hearted research, when the sun had passed the highest point in the sky, he heard a knock at his window. He spun his chair to find Jon floating outside, wearing normal clothes. Jay rushed to open the window, letting Jon drift in and land lightly inside with a “Hi!”
“Hey? Did you forget your costume at home or something?” Jay asked, gesturing at Jon’s hoodie and sweatpants.
Jon laughed, “Connor came to visit, so I’m letting him handle the city for a bit. He’d hate it if I stole the spotlight today.”
“So you’re taking a day off?”
“Yep. I thought I’d spend it with you.” Jon paused, suddenly hesitant. “If you want to, I mean. No worries if you’ve got other plans.”
Jay looked at him blankly for a moment, before he found his words. “Oh. No, I didn’t have plans. Give me one second.”
He turned away from his boyfriend to shut off his computer and grab his empty mug from his desk. He avoided eye contact as he passed Jon to set it in the sink. The weight of Jon’s gaze increased as he ran the water, and he could feel the question in the air before Jon asked, “Jay? Is everything alright?”
“Yeah.” Of course Jon would notice. He shut the water off. “I’m good, sorry, I just had a weird dream.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
When Jay turned, Jon’s expression was so clear and full of concern, it nearly made him laugh. Instead, he sighed. “You don’t need to worry about me. We can do something fun. I’m sure you don’t get many days like this.”
“I worry about you because I care about you. If something’s bothering you, I want to help.”
It was completely up to him; if Jay said to drop it, Jon would. They would do something fun and avoid the topic until another time. But something about Jon’s expression said that if Jay told him, he wouldn’t mind. He’d listen with that sweet, caring face of his, and do exactly what Jay asked to make him feel better.
He sighed. “Come sit with me.”
Jay pulled him down onto the couch and leaned into his side. Jon, in turn, wound his arms around Jay’s shoulders and squeezed, a gentle pressure that Jay was sure took a lot of concentration to apply correctly. “I was back home. In Gamorra.”
Jon hummed softly, but didn’t interrupt.
“We were in our old house—my mom and I. It wasn’t anything special, or scary. Just a normal day at home. We made tea and talked. I miss her.”
“We’ll get her back. I promise.” Jon’s hand drifted up to brush through his hair.
“I know. It’s just…lonely, sometimes.”
The fingers in his hair stuttered. “You don’t have to be alone.” Jay twisted a bit to look up at him. “I can hear you from literally anywhere. If you ever get lonely, just call me.”
It was such an earnest offer, Jay couldn’t help laughing. “Sure thing, Superman. You just drop whatever world-ending crisis you’re stopping and come hang out with your boyfriend.”
Jon blushed. “I’m serious! You’re important to me. If there’s anything I can ever do for you, I want to know. You’ve done a lot for me, let me return the favor. How can I make it better?”
Jay relaxed back into his arms. “Right now? Just keep me company for a little while. Obviously if there’s a big crisis or something—I get it if you need to go, but—”
“I’m staying. Connor can take care of things today, and he’s got friends who can help out if he needs it. Do you want food? Or we can watch a movie. Or something else, whatever you want to do.” Jay tilted his head up to see Jon’s face. His expression was so endearingly earnest, Jay couldn’t stop a small laugh from sneaking out. Jon’s expression morphed into confusion. “What?”
Jay pressed a light kiss to the tip of his nose. “You’re sweet, do you know that?”
“I have a lot of enemies who might disagree with you. But you never answered my question. What do you want to do?”
“Let’s just stay like this. I think both of us could use a rest day. And we never get to spend time together outside of working to take down a dictatorship.”
“Are you saying you want to go on a date with me?”
Jay hummed, “I’ll have to check my schedule, but I’m sure I could make time for a cute boy like you.”
“You think I’m cute?”
“Now you’re just fishing for compliments.” Jay nudged at Jon until he got the hint and laid down across the couch. There was just enough room for both of them, so he settled himself against Jon’s chest and tangled their legs together. Jon was warm as usual—a Kryptonian thing, he had said the first time Jay pointed it out—and his chest was just soft enough to be a nice pillow. Jay let his eyes drift shut to the sound of Jon’s heartbeat and the muffled white noise of Metropolis in late afternoon.
He spent the next hours drifting in and out of sleep, each time waking up to Jon’s solid presence enveloping him. After they had both fully woken up, still contentedly curled into each other, he felt the ghost of a kiss being pressed to the crown of his head. He, in response, turned and left a gentle kiss on the side of Jon’s neck, giggling when Jon jolted like he had been electrocuted.
“Dude,” he mumbled, still turned against Jon’s neck. “Behave.”
Jon squirmed a bit as Jay’s lips brushed against him again. “Sorry,” he said, sounding extremely unapologetic.
Jay retaliated by nibbling at the spot he had kissed, knowing fully well that it wouldn’t leave a mark. Still, it didn’t hurt to try. He gave up after a few minutes and twisted so that he was looking at Jon.
Jon’s cheeks were red and his hair was a mess from a day spent napping, but his eyes were bright. He always looked good, of course, but seeing him sleep-rumpled and casual felt sacred. This wasn’t Superman, savior of Metropolis. This was Jon.
Jay really liked Jon.
He buried his face in Jon’s chest again. “Alright. We should get up.”
“Should we?”
“We should eat something. And make sure there are no major catastrophes requiring our attention.”
A low laugh rumbled against Jay’s cheek. “Fine,” he said in an exaggerated whine.
Jay sat up, reluctantly, and looked down at Jon. “After we eat—assuming the world isn’t ending—we can take this to my bed.”
The red in Jon’s cheeks deepened. “Well,” he said, voice low, “As long as the world isn’t ending.”
Jay stood and extended a hand to help Jon up. It was completely unnecessary, and they both knew it, but Jon accepted it and allowed himself to be pulled up. They made their way back to the kitchen and Jay pulled out the stack of take-out menus he had stashed next to his fridge. As Jon scanned over the menus, Jay studied the lines of light filtering across his face and casting a halo of light around his dark hair.
Jon glanced up and squinted, smiling. “What are you looking at?”
“Just appreciating you. Thanks for staying. I feel better.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
Jay kissed his cheek and leaned against him as they went back to selecting their dinner. Just for tonight, he didn’t have to think about anything beyond his apartment. He could spend the night with his boyfriend and shitty take-out and the peace of mind that he didn’t have to be anything but a normal teenager.
Just for one night. It wasn’t home.
But it was close.