stinglikeabee (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stinglikeabee) wrote2009-02-06 02:58 am
stinglikeabee) wrote2009-02-06 02:58 am
Entry tags:
Fic: Gossip, PG
Title: Gossip
Characters/Pairings: Rokk/Garth (Smallville)
Rating: PG
Summary: Brin says Garth moons at Rokk with adoration. Discuss.
Word count: 1858
Notes: Fluff and the fifth draft of my original plot bunny D: Happy birthday to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fictionalknight! Sorry it's so late and I do hope you like this :D
Rokk told himself to ignore it.
That was easy in the beginning, when there were only 3 people in the Legion of Superheroes. But as more recruits swore the oath and pledged to protect the United Planets, working alongside Rokk and Garth, the more chatter grew.
Rokk understood the role of gossip in a high-pressure environment, though he did not approve. It helped reduce stress, provided an outlet for people to vent their feelings however slanderous or cruel it may be. And sad to say, he wasn't surprised most of it was idle speculation over Garth's role as one of the Legion's founders, or light teasing as to why Garth was practically glued to Rokk's side. Gangly, with a mess of redhair falling into his eyes, he was the typical teenager. As in cocky, self-involved, and not known for strategy, let alone thinking. Garth had a talent of running his mouth and offending everyone within a 5 mile radius. And true, if it weren't for Rokk stepping in as a tutor, or Rokk apologising for yet another gaffe, Lightning Lad would have had to be locked up for his own safety.
None of which excused the sniping. Garth may have been green, but Lightning Lad pulled his weight with every mission. Not to mention the training sessions, strategy seminars, and diplomatic conferences he attended in order to be a better superhero. And Rokk knew Garth would fight to his dying breath for the Legion, unwavering even if Rokk hesitated.
The knowledge of which sat heavily on his conscience. Rokk stared up at the ceiling, half-heartedly trying to make out shapes and think of something else. Pick on the one glaring weakness Garth had that made him almost endearing. Sprocking vultures, he thought viciously. It wasn't the kid's fault he had an open and honest face. Or that an alarming number of Legionnaires (not Imra, thankfully) had telepathic tendencies and could 'accidentally' pick up Garth's thoughts for cheap laughs. Not that Garth himself was doing any favours, what with the mooning with adoration -- Brin's words, not his.
Rokk had long ago gotten used to the glances Garth would sneak when he thought no one was looking. He didn't understand why -- the glances could be intense to the point of almost making him extremely self-conscious, as if the head of the Legion was a particularly difficult problem Garth was trying to make sense of. But mostly the kid looked at him as if he was the center of the universe.
***
Imra was the first to bring it up to Rokk. She tugged at his sleeve, and motioned towards an empty bay while the Legion helped the clean-up crew scrub away the remains of an exploded formerly escaped criminal. He remembered the quirk of her lips, the gleam in her eyes that suggested amusement despite her solemn words. And he remembered the curt response he had given, wanting to get back to the Legion, his people, not stopping until he was absolutely sure the threat was gone. He didn't get the chance, Garth somehow found them and quickly bounded across to the space to monopolise his attention.
//Don't start,// Rokk had directed to Imra while the kid rattled off the moments where he single-handedly saved the day. //I'm like a big brother to him, that is all. It's only a phase.//
Imra didn't bother to hide her grin.
***
The two never had another talk about it again. Not even when public knowledge of Mekt, Garth's delinquent older brother, turned up in an attempt to smear the integrity of the Legion. Though he should be concerned Garth had tried to hide Mekt's disturbingly long rapsheet from a dozen different planets, Rokk had never felt more relieved that he had evidence to back up his theory. It was simply hero-worship, and Rokk was a substitute for Garth's brother.
He had been working really hard to believe that line for weeks when Garth, Rokk, and Imra stepped through the time portal to chase down Persuader to the 21st century. Planned or not, Persuader and his atomic axe made it back to the correct timeline while the three were stranded at the home of an angry Kal-El.
Kal was so... young. As he stood berating the three of them for intruding upon a painful day with undisguised hurt in his eyes, Rokk couldn't help but see the comparison to the kid. Then he boxed away those feelings, and focused on capturing Brainiac at any cost before the Earth was doomed. The niggling doubt never left him though; they had arrived at a time when Kal hadn't even learned to fly, a fact that upset Garth and by extension, Rokk. The implication was clear: how could Kal possibly understand what they were up against if he hadn't mastered his powers?
Rokk nearly became convinced their appearance in the timestream must have been fated; the Legion -- which took its inspiration from the Man of Steel -- was to provide Kal and Earth with the historical certainty of stopping Brainiac by doing what needed to be done.
It was a good thing Rokk was wrong.
Kal held that girl's hand, and coaxed her to rebel against Brainiac's programming. He inspired in her a fight against one of the most powerful beings in the universe. After that, Rokk's and Garth's teamup to purge the girl's body of Brainiac seemed incidental. He knew then that the code should rightly be first and foremost, no killing.
***
Rokk rubbed at his temples. His chest constricted at the memory of how close Garth had been to be the one to end the girl's life to save millions. Even if it was, at the time, the right thing. Garth trusted him to make the decisions, and sometimes that could be too much to bear.
***
Was it any wonder then that Garth would switch gears and fawn over Kal? Rokk could admit to understanding the feeling. This was the greatest superhero the universe had known and he turned out to be an extraordinary man who inspired the best in others. There was only the tiniest bit of irritation that rose when he saw Garth give Kal a duplicate of a smile he thought was reserved for himself only.
In his haste to avert his gaze, Rokk had dropped the nails. He cursed under his breath and summoned the nails back up, and hammered the staircase rail back onto the legs. When he was calm enough to turn around, there was only Garth nearly upending the barn for souvenirs.
'Garth,' he barked.
Garth glanced up with a sheepish smile, eyebrows raised to blend with his bangs. 'Yeah, yeah. The code.'
'What are you doing?'
The kid blinked. 'What?'
He hadn't known what Rokk was talking about. Rokk hadn't know what he was talking about. Still upset, he walked stiffly towards the mahogany writing table without a clue of what was going on, glowering without knowing why. Garth was still bent forward, his hands stuck into a quagmire of Kal's personal effects. Rokk watched as his mouth formed a nervous smile.
'Hey,' Garth said, in a soft gasp.
Rokk had hesitated, then reached out with his left hand. It landed gingerly upon Garth's head, and slowly, very slowly, ran fingers through his hair. Garth shut his eyes closed, and Rokk stared at the pale eyelashes as he continued to stroke the kid.
What was he thinking at the time? Rokk concentrated at the ceiling again. Probably how it felt when Garth started sparking underneath his fingertips, and licking his lips.
He had yet another reason to hold Kal in high esteem. Had Kal not stepped back into the barn then, Rokk might have been in big trouble. He disengaged himself, stung by the disappointed expression Garth had, and strode back to his work area. Kal waved and climbed up the stairs, amiable host to the end. Rokk plastered a neutral smile onto his face, hoping nothing like the word 'pervert' would show up on his forehead. Suprisingly Garth showed no trace of being affected by the petting session, having apparently found the souvenir of his dreams and demanding an autograph. Rokk rolled his eyes, annoyance mixed in with disbelief -- did any of it happen at all? Imra walked in, and he shelved that thought to brood over later.
Once back, they were treated to joyous fanfare by the Legionnaires. Tipped off and concerned by Persuader's confession, there was much hand-wringing over whether the three would return. Buoyed by the interest Garth soaked in the limelight, and Rokk gladly let him recount the time they helpd saved Earth and defeated Brainiac, satisfied that if anyone cared to know the unembellished truth it would be in his report. Imra studied him, and he squeezed her shoulder in the hopes of removing the worried expression. It didn't take, and over her objections Rokk set off to the containment wing to secure the shiny metal ball that was formerly a centuries-old supervillain for further examination. At least this could be salvageable into a new, organic machine that would save the universe not attempt to destroy it.
Buzzing with a mental draft up of the report and the possibilities of a new Brainiac, he made up to his room, eager for a long, undisturbed rest.
***
Rokk tossed a bit in bed, careful not to disturb the familiar mop of red hair underneath his chin. Funny how that turned out.
***
Garth had waited outside his door, shoving his hands into pockets when he saw Rokk approaching.
'We saved the world, Rokk.' Garth grinned and spread his arms out.
Rokk halted. 'Yes, we did.'
'Against Brainiac!'
'Garth, what do you want?'
The mask of chirpiness fell, and the kid wrapped his arms around himself, eyes downcast. Then with a strength that never ceases to amaze Rokk, Garth grabbed and shoved him against the wall.
His grip tightened around Rokk's biceps. 'Look at me.'
Rokk obeyed, and looked down. He was met by a pair of piercing blue eyes intent on keeping his attention.
'I want you, okay? More than the autographed baseball. More than meeting Kal. I want you.'
'Like a brother.'
Garth scrunched up his nose, voice breaking. 'What?'
'You don't really want this. Think about it. You're just looking for an older brother, someone to--' Rokk knew he was beginning to babble yet couldn't stop.
Garth looked horrified and backed away, his eyebrows shooting up comically. 'WHAT? Grife, that's-- UGH.'
They stared at each other. The thumping in Rokk's ears lessened, though he could still feel his cheeks burning. After what seemed like an eternity, Garth rubbed a hand over his face and groaned.
'Look, I'm sorry Rokk. I just thought that-- Imra said-- Never mind.' Garth looked exhausted. 'I'm going to bed. Catch you later.'
Rokk nodded and wiped his sweaty palms onto his thighs as the kid moved towards the end of the corridor. 'Wait. Garth?'
Garth glanced over his shoulder, body language screaming his utter exhaustion, and yet he still managed to work up a grin. 'Mmm?'
'Don't go.'
***
The gossip was bound to get worse from now on, Rokk irritatedly thought as he held a clueless Garth closer. He gave Garth's cheek a little pinch. Especially with this loudmouth.
A smile slowly spread across his face. But it would be worth it.
Characters/Pairings: Rokk/Garth (Smallville)
Rating: PG
Summary: Brin says Garth moons at Rokk with adoration. Discuss.
Word count: 1858
Notes: Fluff and the fifth draft of my original plot bunny D: Happy birthday to
fictionalknight! Sorry it's so late and I do hope you like this :DRokk told himself to ignore it.
That was easy in the beginning, when there were only 3 people in the Legion of Superheroes. But as more recruits swore the oath and pledged to protect the United Planets, working alongside Rokk and Garth, the more chatter grew.
Rokk understood the role of gossip in a high-pressure environment, though he did not approve. It helped reduce stress, provided an outlet for people to vent their feelings however slanderous or cruel it may be. And sad to say, he wasn't surprised most of it was idle speculation over Garth's role as one of the Legion's founders, or light teasing as to why Garth was practically glued to Rokk's side. Gangly, with a mess of redhair falling into his eyes, he was the typical teenager. As in cocky, self-involved, and not known for strategy, let alone thinking. Garth had a talent of running his mouth and offending everyone within a 5 mile radius. And true, if it weren't for Rokk stepping in as a tutor, or Rokk apologising for yet another gaffe, Lightning Lad would have had to be locked up for his own safety.
None of which excused the sniping. Garth may have been green, but Lightning Lad pulled his weight with every mission. Not to mention the training sessions, strategy seminars, and diplomatic conferences he attended in order to be a better superhero. And Rokk knew Garth would fight to his dying breath for the Legion, unwavering even if Rokk hesitated.
The knowledge of which sat heavily on his conscience. Rokk stared up at the ceiling, half-heartedly trying to make out shapes and think of something else. Pick on the one glaring weakness Garth had that made him almost endearing. Sprocking vultures, he thought viciously. It wasn't the kid's fault he had an open and honest face. Or that an alarming number of Legionnaires (not Imra, thankfully) had telepathic tendencies and could 'accidentally' pick up Garth's thoughts for cheap laughs. Not that Garth himself was doing any favours, what with the mooning with adoration -- Brin's words, not his.
Rokk had long ago gotten used to the glances Garth would sneak when he thought no one was looking. He didn't understand why -- the glances could be intense to the point of almost making him extremely self-conscious, as if the head of the Legion was a particularly difficult problem Garth was trying to make sense of. But mostly the kid looked at him as if he was the center of the universe.
***
Imra was the first to bring it up to Rokk. She tugged at his sleeve, and motioned towards an empty bay while the Legion helped the clean-up crew scrub away the remains of an exploded formerly escaped criminal. He remembered the quirk of her lips, the gleam in her eyes that suggested amusement despite her solemn words. And he remembered the curt response he had given, wanting to get back to the Legion, his people, not stopping until he was absolutely sure the threat was gone. He didn't get the chance, Garth somehow found them and quickly bounded across to the space to monopolise his attention.
//Don't start,// Rokk had directed to Imra while the kid rattled off the moments where he single-handedly saved the day. //I'm like a big brother to him, that is all. It's only a phase.//
Imra didn't bother to hide her grin.
***
The two never had another talk about it again. Not even when public knowledge of Mekt, Garth's delinquent older brother, turned up in an attempt to smear the integrity of the Legion. Though he should be concerned Garth had tried to hide Mekt's disturbingly long rapsheet from a dozen different planets, Rokk had never felt more relieved that he had evidence to back up his theory. It was simply hero-worship, and Rokk was a substitute for Garth's brother.
He had been working really hard to believe that line for weeks when Garth, Rokk, and Imra stepped through the time portal to chase down Persuader to the 21st century. Planned or not, Persuader and his atomic axe made it back to the correct timeline while the three were stranded at the home of an angry Kal-El.
Kal was so... young. As he stood berating the three of them for intruding upon a painful day with undisguised hurt in his eyes, Rokk couldn't help but see the comparison to the kid. Then he boxed away those feelings, and focused on capturing Brainiac at any cost before the Earth was doomed. The niggling doubt never left him though; they had arrived at a time when Kal hadn't even learned to fly, a fact that upset Garth and by extension, Rokk. The implication was clear: how could Kal possibly understand what they were up against if he hadn't mastered his powers?
Rokk nearly became convinced their appearance in the timestream must have been fated; the Legion -- which took its inspiration from the Man of Steel -- was to provide Kal and Earth with the historical certainty of stopping Brainiac by doing what needed to be done.
It was a good thing Rokk was wrong.
Kal held that girl's hand, and coaxed her to rebel against Brainiac's programming. He inspired in her a fight against one of the most powerful beings in the universe. After that, Rokk's and Garth's teamup to purge the girl's body of Brainiac seemed incidental. He knew then that the code should rightly be first and foremost, no killing.
***
Rokk rubbed at his temples. His chest constricted at the memory of how close Garth had been to be the one to end the girl's life to save millions. Even if it was, at the time, the right thing. Garth trusted him to make the decisions, and sometimes that could be too much to bear.
***
Was it any wonder then that Garth would switch gears and fawn over Kal? Rokk could admit to understanding the feeling. This was the greatest superhero the universe had known and he turned out to be an extraordinary man who inspired the best in others. There was only the tiniest bit of irritation that rose when he saw Garth give Kal a duplicate of a smile he thought was reserved for himself only.
In his haste to avert his gaze, Rokk had dropped the nails. He cursed under his breath and summoned the nails back up, and hammered the staircase rail back onto the legs. When he was calm enough to turn around, there was only Garth nearly upending the barn for souvenirs.
'Garth,' he barked.
Garth glanced up with a sheepish smile, eyebrows raised to blend with his bangs. 'Yeah, yeah. The code.'
'What are you doing?'
The kid blinked. 'What?'
He hadn't known what Rokk was talking about. Rokk hadn't know what he was talking about. Still upset, he walked stiffly towards the mahogany writing table without a clue of what was going on, glowering without knowing why. Garth was still bent forward, his hands stuck into a quagmire of Kal's personal effects. Rokk watched as his mouth formed a nervous smile.
'Hey,' Garth said, in a soft gasp.
Rokk had hesitated, then reached out with his left hand. It landed gingerly upon Garth's head, and slowly, very slowly, ran fingers through his hair. Garth shut his eyes closed, and Rokk stared at the pale eyelashes as he continued to stroke the kid.
What was he thinking at the time? Rokk concentrated at the ceiling again. Probably how it felt when Garth started sparking underneath his fingertips, and licking his lips.
He had yet another reason to hold Kal in high esteem. Had Kal not stepped back into the barn then, Rokk might have been in big trouble. He disengaged himself, stung by the disappointed expression Garth had, and strode back to his work area. Kal waved and climbed up the stairs, amiable host to the end. Rokk plastered a neutral smile onto his face, hoping nothing like the word 'pervert' would show up on his forehead. Suprisingly Garth showed no trace of being affected by the petting session, having apparently found the souvenir of his dreams and demanding an autograph. Rokk rolled his eyes, annoyance mixed in with disbelief -- did any of it happen at all? Imra walked in, and he shelved that thought to brood over later.
Once back, they were treated to joyous fanfare by the Legionnaires. Tipped off and concerned by Persuader's confession, there was much hand-wringing over whether the three would return. Buoyed by the interest Garth soaked in the limelight, and Rokk gladly let him recount the time they helpd saved Earth and defeated Brainiac, satisfied that if anyone cared to know the unembellished truth it would be in his report. Imra studied him, and he squeezed her shoulder in the hopes of removing the worried expression. It didn't take, and over her objections Rokk set off to the containment wing to secure the shiny metal ball that was formerly a centuries-old supervillain for further examination. At least this could be salvageable into a new, organic machine that would save the universe not attempt to destroy it.
Buzzing with a mental draft up of the report and the possibilities of a new Brainiac, he made up to his room, eager for a long, undisturbed rest.
***
Rokk tossed a bit in bed, careful not to disturb the familiar mop of red hair underneath his chin. Funny how that turned out.
***
Garth had waited outside his door, shoving his hands into pockets when he saw Rokk approaching.
'We saved the world, Rokk.' Garth grinned and spread his arms out.
Rokk halted. 'Yes, we did.'
'Against Brainiac!'
'Garth, what do you want?'
The mask of chirpiness fell, and the kid wrapped his arms around himself, eyes downcast. Then with a strength that never ceases to amaze Rokk, Garth grabbed and shoved him against the wall.
His grip tightened around Rokk's biceps. 'Look at me.'
Rokk obeyed, and looked down. He was met by a pair of piercing blue eyes intent on keeping his attention.
'I want you, okay? More than the autographed baseball. More than meeting Kal. I want you.'
'Like a brother.'
Garth scrunched up his nose, voice breaking. 'What?'
'You don't really want this. Think about it. You're just looking for an older brother, someone to--' Rokk knew he was beginning to babble yet couldn't stop.
Garth looked horrified and backed away, his eyebrows shooting up comically. 'WHAT? Grife, that's-- UGH.'
They stared at each other. The thumping in Rokk's ears lessened, though he could still feel his cheeks burning. After what seemed like an eternity, Garth rubbed a hand over his face and groaned.
'Look, I'm sorry Rokk. I just thought that-- Imra said-- Never mind.' Garth looked exhausted. 'I'm going to bed. Catch you later.'
Rokk nodded and wiped his sweaty palms onto his thighs as the kid moved towards the end of the corridor. 'Wait. Garth?'
Garth glanced over his shoulder, body language screaming his utter exhaustion, and yet he still managed to work up a grin. 'Mmm?'
'Don't go.'
***
The gossip was bound to get worse from now on, Rokk irritatedly thought as he held a clueless Garth closer. He gave Garth's cheek a little pinch. Especially with this loudmouth.
A smile slowly spread across his face. But it would be worth it.