Genres: Fluff, Humor, Romance, Slice-Of-Life
Summary: Clark whips up the perfect lunch. :)
Date Of Completion: June 13, 2016
Date Of Posting: June 16, 2016
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 428
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: Happy Birthday, starsandsea! :) Your request of Oh, something with Bruce/Clark or Diana/Steve would be wonderful! is fulfilled with the World’s Finest! Enjoy! :)
As ephemeral as
Bruce sat in the deck chair on the patio behind the kitchen of Wayne Manor. The view of the Atlantic Ocean was spectacular as the day shone with summer light, the blue-green water sparkling with whitecaps. A yellow-and-white-striped umbrella offered shade as a cool breeze ruffled his hair.
Behind his sunglasses he watched as Clark tossed a salad in a large glass bowl. All the ingredients were fresh from Alfred’s kitchen garden: lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers and celery.
“There,” Clark said with satisfaction.
“Not quite.” He checked the second bowl that contained bow tie pasts, black olives, and zucchini slices. “One last touch.”
He went back into the kitchen as Bruce sipped his lemonade. Alfred was ‘on holiday’ in Vermont, so Clark had offered to fix lunch. Bruce could handle sandwiches but he was happy to let Clark do the honors.
Clark’s a sensualist. Food is a delight for him with his super-senses.
“Here’s the piece de resistance.” Clark waved a bottle of salad dressing.
“That’s the secret ingredient?”
“You bet. Mediterranean Italian.” Clark uncapped the bottle and lightly drizzled the dressing over both salads. “The trick is to barely apply it. It can be tasted on the tip of the tongue, elusive and…” He grinned. “It tastes like sunshine.”
He winked as Bruce’s mouth dropped open. “Ah, well, okay.” Bruce looked at the two bowls. “Ugh, where he-man meat?”
“Oh, don’t worry, my hungry caveman. Meat comes later.”
A thrill of anticipation went through Bruce’s body. “I love it when you talk dirty.”
“Dirty? Clean am I, Sam I am.”
“Clean on a train, on a plane, on a boat…”
“In a moat!” Clark set down the bottle. “You live in a castle, right?”
Bruce ignored him as he picked up a fork and chose to try the garden salad. All the ingredients were up to Alfred’s usual standards but the dressing was a new flavor. Just as Clark had described, the taste was elusive and barely there, light and airy.
It does taste like sunshine!
Bruce smiled. “It tastes like you.”
Clark smiled back and leaned over and kissed Bruce, who dropped the fork on the table.
“Mmm, now you taste like sunshine,” he said.
“I always thought I tasted like moonbeams.”
Clark looked thoughtful. “You know, you do, after a long night’s patrol.”
“All right, Mr. Sunshine.”
Clark sat down on the other chair. “Eat up, Mr. Moonbeam.”
Bruce smirked as he picked up his fork again.