Waiting for Clark

Table of Contents

Love is an Open Road

Waiting for Clark – Information

Waiting for Clark

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Author’s Note

Author Bio

Love is an Open Road

An M/M Romance series

WAITING FOR CLARK

By Annabeth Albert

Introduction

The story you are about to read celebrates love, sex and romance between men. It is a product of the
Love is an Open Road
promotion sponsored by the
Goodreads M/M Romance Group
and is published as a gift to you.

What Is Love is an Open Road?

The
Goodreads M/M Romance Group
invited members to choose a photo and pen a letter asking for a short M/M romance story inspired by the image; authors from the group were encouraged to select a letter and write an original tale. The result was an outpouring of creativity that shone a spotlight on the special bond between M/M romance writers and the people who love what these authors do.

A written description of the image that inspired this story is provided along with the original request letter. If you’d like to view the photo, please feel free to join the
Goodreads M/M Romance Group
and visit the discussion section:
Love is an Open Road
.

No matter if you are a long-time devotee to M/M Romance, just new to the genre or fall somewhere in between, you are in for a delicious treat.

Words of
Caution

This story may contain sexually explicit content and is intended for adult readers. It may contain content that is disagreeable or distressing to some readers. The M/M Romance Group strongly recommends that each reader review the General Information section before each story for story tags as well as for content warnings.

Each year, a dedicated group of Volunteers from the M/M Romance Group work hard behind the scenes to bring these stories to you. Our Editors, Formatters, Proofreaders, and those working on Quality Assurance, spend many long hours over a course of several months so that each Event is a success. As each and every author also gives freely of their time and talent, it was decided that all edits suggested may be accepted or rejected by the author at any given time. For this reason, some stories will appear to be more tightly edited than others, depending on the choice of the author.

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. 

All rights reserved worldwide.

This eBook may be distributed freely in its entirety courtesy of the Goodreads M/M Romance Group. This eBook may not be sold, manipulated or reproduced in any format without the express written permission of the author.

Waiting for Clark, Copyright © 2015 Annabeth Albert

Cover Art by Annabeth Albert
Photo credit: © Sergey Khakimullin | Dreamstime.com

This ebook is published by the M/M Romance Group and is not directly endorsed by or affiliated with Goodreads Inc.

M/M Romance Group Publication

WAITING FOR CLARK

By Annabeth Albert

Photo Description

In a cartoon drawing, Batman and Superman are locked in an embrace, kissing. Superman is taller and clutching Batman to him. Batman has more muscles and has visible tattoos on his arms. Superman has broader shoulders and dark hair. Batman is stretching up to meet him and has one foot kicked behind him. Behind them is a graffiti-covered wall, and Superman’s rainbow-lined cape swirls around them. The prompter specified that the picture is two men in cosplay costumes at a Comic Con convention.

Story Letter

Dear Author
,

My friends and I love cosplay, and this year we’re going all out for our city’s con. Yup, we’re going to go as members of the Justice League. I’m going as Batman, but I can’t figure out who’s going as a Superman. My friends are being a little cagey. What’s going on? How did I go from not knowing who Superman is to making out with the guy?

Please no GFY or OFY. Both characters are out and proud (bisexual is cool too). Please make it at least HFN. No dubcon. Also both characters are close in age.

Sincerely,

Elci

Story Info

Genre:
contemporary

Tags:
geeks/nerds, friends to lovers, reunion, crush, college friends, cuddling, frottage, cosplay

Word Count:
26,346

WAITING FOR CLARK

By Annabeth Albert

Chapter One

Bryce

“Are you certain we’ve got everyone covered?” I spoke loudly so my phone’s speaker would pick up my voice. The big rental truck didn’t have integrated hands-free wireless. I probably shouldn’t have been talking at all while driving, but I was a little desperate. Nervous, under-caffeinated, running late, and trapped in a Batman costume with itchy tights was
not
a good combo.

“Relax, boss. I made a spreadsheet. Every shift is covered. Every Justice League character makes an appearance. Our friends all came through.” Tony only called me “boss” when he
really
wanted me to shut up and let him handle something. We’d been friends thirteen years, but I still had trouble delegating.

“And you’ve got a Superman?”

“
Yes.
” I could almost hear Tony roll his eyes.

“Is it Hank?” The traffic on First Avenue was giving me an eye twitch. Two blocks from the convention center and nothing was moving. Nothing.

“No, Hank’s Aquaman.”

“With a purple mohawk?”

“Hey now, don’t go being picky. It’ll be great.”

Thank fuck, traffic started creeping forward, the sign for the underground garage reminding me to get off the phone. “Okay. I’m pulling in now. Probably about to lose my signal.”

“On my way too. Stop stressing!” Tony’s voice crackled and the bars on my signal dropped to nil just as I’d predicted.

This was my third trip to the convention center in less than twenty-four hours. I’d been back and forth setting up our booth last night along with Tony and Charles. Tony and I had known Charles for almost ten years now, and the two of them were my best friends and business partners. We’d attended all the Portland-area comic cons and gamer conventions for years, but this was our first year as official exhibitors at PDX Comic Con. Our bar, Gotham Coin, was there to promote our business by selling T-shirts, bumper stickers, and other bling with our logo on it along with some gamer memorabilia that Tony’s girlfriend, Karen, had designed. We had pens and buttons to give away as well as schedules of our upcoming special events, including cosplay nights. As added incentive to get traffic, we’d convinced our friends, most of whom would have been coming anyway, to staff our booth as superheroes, providing lots of photo opportunities for con attendees. Anything to drum up business.

After parking, I carefully locked and double-checked the truck— the swag that wouldn’t fit in the booth was stashed in the truck, and the risk of theft made me a little twitchier than usual. I made the long trek to the exhibitor entrance. True to his word, Tony and his folder of spreadsheets met me at the line to get in. Tony was playing The Flash, and he had to hand me the folder so that he could adjust his tights as the line inched slowly toward the door.

“Geez. I’m never ordering a costume online again. Thin as these things are, you wouldn’t think they’d be so sweaty.” Tony grimaced as he tugged on the legs of his red outfit. “But hey, pour one out for Charles who’s got to wear that Captain Atom getup all weekend. At least I’m not stuck with gray face paint.”

“Word.” I liked dressing up, but my favorite characters to cosplay were the ones who didn’t wear tights. Last year I went to Comic Con as Wolverine simply because it meant I could wear jeans. However, our bar wasn’t called Gotham Coin for nothing, so Batman and miles of spandex it was. And good luck finding a Batman costume without the fake nipples and enlarged codpiece.

“Charles says some of the gang’s already here,” Tony said as we got our exhibitor badges out for the guy working the door.

“Don’t remind me how late we are. Traffic was nuts, but I still should have planned better.”

“Bryce. Man. I know you think you’re all powerful, but even you can’t control Portland traffic.”

Bryce. Ugh.
Much as I loved Tony, I hated how he said my name. Actually, I hated how ninety-eight percent of the population said my name. For some reason, it always sounded so patronizing. Probably because I’d never thought I looked like a Bryce. Bryce was a slight guy with light hair and pale eyes and a subtle, cheery demeanor.

I was none of those things. I was six feet of hard-earned muscle, and my dark, almost black hair and hazel eyes were decidedly un-Bryce-like. I’d tried over the years to use different nicknames, but none had stuck, which left me cursing my name every time someone like Tony used it to try to calm me down.

Tony and I strode through the vast conference center. I wasn’t really one for small talk, but Tony gamely pointed out other exhibitors and remarked on costumes. Traffic was still relatively light— exhibitors finalizing their booths and the first wave of attendees slowly filtering in. We passed two other Batmen and three Supermen, but none were our friends. Finally, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Why won’t any of you tell me who Superman is?”

“What would be the fun in that?” Tony grinned up at me. He was half a foot shorter than me with the sort of personality that took up twice as much space as his body.

“Is it Gary? He’s a bit… much for the role.” I struggled for a politically correct way to say that Gary in spandex was not a sight I wanted to see.

“Nope.” Tony waved hello to a couple of anime characters accompanied by a Spock.

“Todd?”

“Green Arrow. Just trust me.”

We rounded the corner to the row with our booth and all my trust flew out the air conditioning vents. “What the hell?”

There at
my
booth, in all his spandex-and-tights glory was none other than Clark freaking Kenmore. From the top of his slicked-back brown hair to the bottom of his red boots and the swish of his long cape, Clark was
born
to play the part.

But not at
my
booth.

It had been five years since I’d seen him last. Five very deliberate years of avoidance made easier by him being halfway across the globe. Five years might have done nothing to diminish his all-American good looks, but five years had also done nothing to stop the way my heart tripped up when seeing him.

“What’s he doing here?” I tugged Tony to the side of a booth packed with Hello Kitty merchandise.

“He can see us, you know,” Tony said mildly. “He’s back in town for a visit. We thought it would be a kick to get the old gang back together.”

Kick in the stomach more like. But I didn’t say that, and instead I only made a noncommittal noise.

“Come on, Bryce. You were so close in college. Roommates even. Did one kiss really change everything so much?”

“No,” I lied, voice all gruff, to try to shut him down. Of course Tony knew my history with Clark. I’d gotten horrifically drunk after the incident in question and spilled my guts.

Determined to prove Tony wrong, I marched over to our booth, glad for the first time all day I had the costume and mask to retreat behind.
Think cold, people-hating thoughts. Dark, remote emotions. None of this pesky pining.

“Tony!” Clark turned to greet us, giving Tony a hug and a backslap. As he moved, his cape swished, and I noticed the cape was lined with rainbow fabric. Great. Ours would be the only booth with the gay-pride Superman, and I couldn’t even enjoy it because it was
Clark.
And no, I wasn’t jealous that he’d had the idea, and I was stuck with rubber nipples and cheap nylon.

“And Bryce.” He stopped short in front of me, arms moving uncertainly, like he wasn’t sure whether to hug or shake hands or run the other direction. Or maybe that last bit was just me.

“Stranger.” I saved him from the dilemma and clapped him on the shoulder, feeling his warmth even through my black gloves. I was more muscular, but his shoulders were nothing short of superhero fantasies— battleship-wide, built chest and back tapering to a narrow waist and hips. Olympic swimmers had nothing on Clark. My hand lingered even though it shouldn’t have, memories of all the other, much less awkward hugs and greetings we’d shared assaulting me. Strange how a body could remember another’s precise temperature after so many years— I could tell he was nervous because he was sweating, moisture beading up along his carefully styled hairline. Clark usually ran cold, liking big cozy sweaters and sweatshirts and favoring thick
Doctor Who
scarves as soon as the weather turned cool.