Work Text:
Sometimes Jon isn’t sure he knows what’s real. It’s a feeling that comes and goes, ebbs in and out, but like the Daily Planet’s titles change every morning, it’s simmered into a constant.
There are times he doesn't trust he’s still there, scared he’ll open his eyes and be back to a time he couldn’t throw, couldn’t fly.
Jon knows better, though. He knows that isn’t going to happen. He's supposed to be in a better place now.
He’s resilient. That’s what his dad calls him. Needless to say, some days are harder than others.
“Healing is never a straight path,” his dad tells him. Jon “just needs to have patience,” and “time will heal.” It’s such a Superman thing to say Jon can almost predict the exact order of words whenever they slip out of his mouth. But what else could he say? Jon is stepping into that role now. He has to find a way to solve these problems himself. He just hates how complicated it is, because if he could just flip it off like a switch, he would. All Jon wants to do is be focused, better, because when Jon isn’t focused, people get hurt.
“Just give us the goddamn money. And don’t even think about pressing that panic button little lady .”
Jon narrows his eyes at the thief standing against the gas station counter. He can’t be any older than thirty, probably some young adult down on his luck, trying to get a quick cash grab. The girl at the register looks terrified, he can hear how fast her heart is beating, and the sweat beads slowly dripping down the back of her neck.
“I won't hurt you,” Jon calls out to the thief, stepping through the aisle parallel, “but you have to put the gun down.”
The man laughed, a hearty laugh, one Jon easily marked as evil , even though Jon knew it wasn’t right to judge. “You’re not going to hurt me? I’m way bigger than you pal. Take another step and I’ll shoot.”
Jon looks down at his plain red sweater and feels the way his jaw tightens and sends his lips into a thin line. Now is not a great time to remember he isn’t in costume. Honestly, he’s not too sure how he forgot, he guesses he’s just spent so much time as Superman lately everything’s sort of blurred together. He guesses this is probably why his dad always talks about balance.
“I’m sure you’d rather just walk away,” Jon offers. Yeah. Reason with them first. Violence is always a last resort.
“I’d rather you take another step back, kid. You don’t want a bullet through your head do you?!”
Jon puts his hands up, showing innocence. “You’re right. I don’t. I think if we all just take a moment–”
“If that money doesn’t get in this bag in the next thirty seconds, it’ll be everyone’s fucking grave,” The man fires off two warning shots, and Jon isn’t sure how he’s lost control of the situation so quickly, he’s barely even talked to the guy yet.
“Now,” the man says, breathing heavily, heaving , “do exactly what I say and you might get out of this alive.”
“I won’t let you threaten innocent people.” Jon feels his feet step in front of the gun before he realizes he’s deciding to do that, feels the air tighten around them as he does, and again isn’t sure if the moment is real or not. “I’m sure you’re just having a bad day,” he tries to reason, “but–” Jon notices the shift in the man’s movements, how his finger twitches against the trigger before moving to pull it. He immediately knocks the gun out of the way before he can, watching it fly against the back counter, knocking off a few packs of cigarettes from the wall.
Jon twists his head back in the direction of a loud yelp, and notices the thief cradle his hand before shouting, “you fucking broke my wrist!”
Jon blinks twice because that shouldn’t be possible. He’s practiced constantly, obsessively, so he knows exactly how much pressure he’s applying at all times. It’s not like the bullet was going to hurt him, but shooting a gun is a serious choice, he’d likely be charged for attempted murder. It was the best course of action to toss it away, right? “I-I’m sorry,” Jon immediately apologizes. Luckily, it’s enough distraction for the girl at the register to feel safe enough to press the panic button, which means the police are going to be there any second now.
When they do, Jon completes his civic duty and tries to give an accurate witness statement. By the time he’s done, he’s almost forgotten what he was at the gas station for: snacks . Snacks for him and Jay’s date tonight. Jon promised he would finally do a full sit-down marathon of the newest documentary series Jay was obsessed with. Which was important because Jay hadn’t been doing great lately, more Bendix-centered nightmares than usual, and Jon was trying to take extra time to cheer him up.
Jon can’t imagine traveling anywhere right now. Maybe it’s the whole losing control of the powers thing he’s supposed to have been over already, but all of a sudden taking a step feels like running a marathon. He can hear his own heart pounding, the thick swallowing around the knot in his throat.
He fumbles around with his phone, holding it up to his ear as the ringtone vibrates against it.
“Hello?” Jay answers, sing-songy, “On your way yet?”
“I know we planned to hang out at your place, so this is kind of inconvenient, but,”
“Hm?”
He knows Jay will make him feel safe, and better. “Can you please come get me?”
“Superman can’t fly himself to my apartment?” He teases.
“ Jay ,” and it’s the way Jon says it, kind of desperately, that pangs Jay’s heart.
He furrows his eyebrows at Jon’s tone, not yet frowning but bringing his bottom lip up to the top in a slanted horseshoe shape. Jon would actually enjoy that metaphor probably, horse enjoyer or something, but Jay figures it’s better to finish listening, and not bombard his boyfriend with some writing nerd thing yet.
Getting Jon to open up– it’s not difficult, but it is precious maybe . And Jay knows better than anyone that Jon can handle himself, but he also knows how much Jon tries to handle himself sometimes, even when he’s surrounded by so much love . His parents, grandparents, friends. It’s not that Jon doesn’t use his support system, like he doesn’t praise teamwork and friendship like a typical Lane-Kent kid would. Hell, Jay wishes he was half as good at being vulnerable as Jon. It’s just that at the end of the day Jon carries a burden Jay and most others can never really grasp themself–Superman. So as outspoken and uncompromising as Jay is, he tries to be delicate. He does his best to understand first, even if he does feel out of his depth most of the time.
“I’m on my way, just send me your location,” he assures, already swiping on his jacket and walking out the door, keys fiddling in his hand.
Jon is good with people. He’s just good , really, everything about the word. Jay is, he’s just not as good with emotions, it makes him feel like an open wound just waiting to be dissected. Maybe that’s partly why he loves journalism. Truth doesn’t need to be vulnerable, it’s just the truth, and it’s easier to fight a problem than to face it. Jon though, Jon helps Jay feel like he doesn’t have to fight anything . He slows down the adrenaline for a little while, makes things feel safe. It was the least he could do to return the favor.
Just seeing Jay walk up to the gas station makes Jon feel better, like he knew it would. He feels his shoulders drop down slightly, and opens his arms to squeeze him tight. Jay’s arms lift slightly above Jon’s, then settle on top of them, leaning into the hug. Jon was always the more physical one, fiending for Jay’s touch like he was a starving man. Still, Jay can’t remember a time someone hugged him like this . Something about similar tragedies carving out people in different ways. Jay has always been wary of touch, sometimes still panicking at the thought of it. Jon , Jon grips onto people like they will slip out and disappear from the world the second he stops touching them. He acts a little extra, physically makes his mark just to make sure he’s not forgotten.
“You were just down the block,” Jay comments, noticing the lack of distance between his apartment and the location Jon had sent him. Jay is an observer first, second nature to his journalistic tendencies. His eyes narrow at the site of the police cars surrounding the building. He’s just not sure whether to question it yet.
Jon takes his head out of the place in Jay’s neck where he’s burrowed it, and teases his fingers over Jay’s lips. Jay’s eyes are forced back onto Jon’s. “Can I kiss you?” he asks. Jay nods, closing the gap between them, wrapping his arms around his neck.
Jon pulls back after a few moments, “Your roots are coming in,” he notices, combing through his hair gently.
“Hm? Yeah, I guess I’ll have to re-dye it soon. Do you wanna get out of here?”
Jon nods desperately, even as the guilt settles deep into his gut and twists around his insides like a tight hair band wrapping around a wrist. He pulls away, dropping his arms to his sides. Maybe he shouldn’t touch Jay right now. No matter how much his body is screaming for that feeling. He’s so weirdly out of it, which means he isn’t completely focused on being gentle , and Jon will not risk hurting Jay no matter what it means for his psyche at the moment. He’s sure he didn’t knock the thief's hand away that hard, he’s sure and yet, he did . And he can’t take that back. He’ll just have to work on it more make sure it never happens again–
“--on, Jonathan. ”
“What?”
“Come back to earth for me?” Jay reaches for Jon’s hand, because he knows that will help ground him, but Jon slides his into his pockets. This time, Jay really frowns, a full-on frown that teases the bottom of his chin. Jon hates that, because this night is supposed to be about cheering him up.
“I’m ok!” he clarifies, “I’m just emo right now, or whatever. I promise I'll get over it.”
“You don’t have to get over it. We have all afternoon, I’m here to listen.”
“I’m really excited to spend this time with you and watch your documentary. That’s all I want to do right now. This is your night. Besides, I’m serious, I’ll be fine. Being around you helps.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it? You did call me all the way down here to walk you inside. Actions speak louder than words.”
Jon knew all too well how loud his actions tended to be–
“Alright, no more inner monologue. I can practically feel those gears turning around in your head, which is the last place you need to be right now.”
Jay unlocks his apartment door, which surprises Jon because he doesn’t remember walking into the building in the first place. He follows him inside, or rather Jay guides him to the couch, getting comfortable against the pillows. Jon can’t help the smile that spreads onto his face, because he’s so pretty even just picking up the remote, but also because he’s so, so caring and–
He feels the words rise up in his chest before he can even formally put together what he’s trying to say– “I’m not who you think I am.”
Jay pauses, tilting his head a little. “How do you mean?”
“I broke his wrist!”
“Who’s?”
“The thief’s at the gas station, and that’s why I pulled away when you tried to reach for my hand because I didn’t want to hurt you– I don’t hurt people.That’s why I’m Superman, and if I’m going to keep on being Superman, things like this can’t happen, and I, and I can’t run the risk of harming people I love ever again!” The last word hangs in the air. Jon isn’t sure whether or not he said that part out loud, but then Jay prompts,
“What do you mean?”
Jon brings his knees up to his face, hugging himself around them tightly. “It’s just…a pattern I thought I broke a long time ago.” He blinks away the time he was possessed, or when he destroyed the Titans tower or Goldie . People could say it wasn’t his fault, but it still felt like it. And he still would do his best to make things like that not happen.
“Jon, of course you have. You do so much good everyday. No one’s going to blame you for breaking the wrist of a guy who was seriously trying to do harm to other people.”
Not true. Superman is held to a higher standard. Jon knows people expect more of him. Jon expects more of himself . He knows his dad would.
“I wasn’t focused, completely. I was already in my head about something else when it happened, I think that’s why.”
“And what was that?”
Jon looks away now. “People were touching me today– more than usual. Usually, that’s fine. I’m fine. I’m a toucher, besides, it's part of the job. It’s just–sometimes when I close my eyes I feel like it’s the wrong person's hands touching me, like, someone’s trying to take me away from it all, and I–I get scared because everything is so good right now.”
“Do you want me to scoot away?”
“No! You, you’re different. You’re safe,” You’re always safe. I want you near me. I never want you to leave. “That’s part of my point. I don’t want to lose what I have here. I don’t want to lose you.”
Jay cups Jon’s face in his hands. There’s not enough words to convey just how much he understands what Jon is describing. “I feel the same way,” he chokes out, and it’s rough and scratchy because he hasn’t been able to admit it out loud yet- just how affected he’s been by Bendix’s rule over Gamorra. The nightmares of the experiments, how unreal being free has actually felt, so unreal that it’s like it’s all going to collapse at any moment. And yet, it doesn’t– he opens his eyes and Jon is still there, big gorgeous face and all.
“Really?” Jon asks, and Jay can’t stifle the laugh that spills out of his mouth, because it’s almost ridiculous.
“God, you don’t even know.”
“I want to know. I want you to feel like you can tell me things. Anything . That’s why I wanted tonight, I know you haven’t been feeling good lately, and I wanted to check in. Make you feel like you could talk to me.”
“You have, you’ve done such a good job of that. I’m just– It’s really hard to talk about it.”
“I get it.” Jon does, “And I would never force it out of you.”
“I know. You’re great like that. I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend,” Jay runs a finger over Jon’s bottom lip, lifting up his jaw so that they’re both staring into each other's eyes. Jon leans in, giving him a gentle kiss.
“I can’t believe you’re mine. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Jay smiled, kissing him once more for good measure, “You still up for binge watching the documentary series? I promise you’ll love it.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”