As usual, the subway station was crammed with people. It seemed to take forever just to get into the station. Superman might have flown, but Clark Kent waited patiently behind a long queue for his turn to buy a token so he could wait to get through the turnstile before waiting for a subway. When he was almost at the turnstile, a train pulled into the station. He knew he wouldn't catch that train.
But Jimmy did. He spotted Clark in the crowd and waved cheerfully at him before hopping onto the subway car.
"Morning, Clark!" Jimmy shouted.
Clark's hands were full, so he waved back with the hand holding his briefcase, accidentally hitting himself in the head with it and knocking his glasses askew.
Good old Clark, Jimmy thought, watching him through the window of the subway car as it pulled away from the station.
As Clark adjusted his glasses, his mind lingered on Jimmy's smile.
Oh, Jimmy. How could he know that this clumsy, awkward rookie reporter from the countryside had secretly harbored a crush on him for so long?
Although Clark had a fleshy admiration of strong male body for the longest time, his obsession with that youthful and carefree coworker made him somehow realize, for the first time, that he wanted somebody by his side — to share a pizza with on the same couch, to cuddle on a stormy night.
Jimmy Olsen's face and body weren't like those gym jocks Clark had been secretly peeping since high school. Jimmy was just a averaged looking American boy, with a lean and toned body, his messy auburn hair adding to his nerdy charm. His face, with its square jawline and slight freckles, carried a certain innocence that Clark found irresistible.
But it wasn't just his looks. Jimmy was the first person to stand up for him when the whole office was teasing him after he spilled the coffee he brought for everyone. Jimmy was the one who brought him a late-night snack and stayed with him to finish work. Jimmy was also the only one who gave him the first birthday gift—a red tie—apart from his adoptive parents.
As his feelings grew, Clark wanted to give more. So, he let Jimmy have the first ever Superman interview. He always came to Jimmy's aid whenever danger lurked around Metropolis. He even got him a special Christmas gift—a collar pin made from a rare diamond mined on Strum's moon. But that's all he could do for Jimmy.
He couldn't bring himself to confess it. Part of it was not knowing whether Jimmy felt the same way, but there was also the matter of being Superman. He couldn't just blur the lines between his two identities—there was too much at stake. The last thing he wanted was to drag Jimmy into his complicated world, to put him in danger or make things more difficult than they already were.
It stung, sure. Every time he caught himself daydreaming about what it would be like to be with Jimmy, to laugh together walking in central park or watch a movie on a lazy afternoon, it was like a little ache in his chest. But he kept it buried. It was easier that way, he told himself.
It was hard to say whether it was his lack of romantic experience, the suppression of his true feelings, or perhaps both, that had led him to develop an unusual (for a hero, at least) fixation with being humiliated and punished—or perhaps something even darker. But Clark could never truly admit this to himself. The thought of acknowledging it filled him with dread. All he could do was remind himself, over and over, that he was Clark Kent, the kind but clumsy journalist, and Superman, the greatest hero. Neither of those personas had the time or capacity for love—especially not with someone like Jimmy.
So, he smiled, played it cool, and kept his feelings hidden, even though every cheerful greeting or friendly pat from Jimmy made it a little harder to pretend.
Just like right now. Even though his heart was in turmoil from just waving and smiling on the subway, he was still clumsily repairing his glasses as if nothing had happened.
"What if Jimmy knows I'm in love with him? What if we live together as a couple just like those Hollywood romcoms?" He couldn't help but wonder.
"Will it save me from the hell of my abnormal desires?"
Squinting, Clark activated his X-ray vision, his gaze piercing through steel and concrete to track the subway car as it hurtled into the tunnel. His focus landed on Jimmy, standing with his headphones on, carrying a gym bag for his early morning exercise.
But then his eyes caught something strange: the train was speeding up at an alarming rate.
It's the engineer, pale and sweating, clutching his chest in visible agony. A moment later, he slumped forward onto the control panel, unconscious, head pressing on the power switch. Clark's breath hitched. The train, now unmanned, barreled down the tracks with dozens of passengers, including Jimmy, in peril.
This was a job for Superman!
Clark ripped off his glasses and ran toward the tunnel. Moving faster than human eyes could see, Clark changed from his pinstriped suit to the iconic red and blue uniform beneath as he followed the subway whose next stop could be catastrophe.
The train roared through the tunnel, its wheels screeching against the tracks. Superman flew alongside it, the confined space forcing him to maneuver with surgical precision. He glanced into the windows, briefly locking eyes with Jimmy, whose expression shifted from carefreeness to stunned amazement. Superman offered him a reassuring wink before accelerating ahead of the train.
Once he was far enough ahead, Superman stopped and turned to face the oncoming subway. He planted his boots firmly on the tracks, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the situation. The headlights bore down on him, brighter and closer with each passing second.
He spotted the so-called "third rail" running parallel to the tracks—a high-voltage conductor responsible for powering the train. Superman gritted his teeth. He knew what he had to do, and it wouldn't be pleasant.
Just as the train closed in, Superman kicked his boot into the third rail. Instantly, millions of volts of electricity surged into his body. His muscles tensed as the raw energy coursed through him, his nerves alight with a searing pain that was almost unbearable—but not quite for Superman. He clenched his jaw, arms reaching forwards. Superman could handle this; he had to handle this. The electrical overload caused a system-wide short, halting the train's engines and bringing it screeching to a stop mere foot from where Superman stood.
As the train ground to a halt, Superman staggered slightly, the residual electricity crackling harmlessly off his suit. He straightened himself and approached the train. With a mighty pull, he guided the subway through the now-darkened tunnel to the next station.
Inside, the confused but relieved crowd began to disembark. Superman made his way to the front car, where the unconscious engineer still slumped over the controls. Gently, he lifted the man from his seat and carried him out of the cab. His super-sensitive hearing picked up a faint heartbeat.
To the approaching rescue squad, he said with calm urgency, "His pulse is weak, but it's there. I recommend using the automated external defibrillator—he may need it immediately."
As the paramedics moved in, Superman placed the engineer carefully on the ground, ensuring he was stable. Jimmy, now trapped among the crowds, struggled to approach him breathlessly.
"You—you stopped the whole train! That was incredible!" Jimmy stammered, awe shining in his eyes. As the crowds gave way to him, Jimmy sprawled to the ground, clutching his ankle as he winced in pain.
Superman turned at the sound of Jimmy's fall. Concern flashed across his face as he swiftly crossed the platform to kneel beside his friend.
"Jimmy, are you alright?" Superman asked, his voice laced with genuine worry.
Jimmy looked up, his cheeks flushing slightly as he waved off the concern. "I'm fine, really. Just... clumsy me. Twisted my ankle a little during the sudden braking when you stopped the train, but it's no big deal. You've got more important things to worry about, Superman."
Superman frowned, his piercing blue eyes landing on Jimmy with care. "You're not walking on that ankle, Jimmy. Let me fly you to the Planet."
Seeing Superman leaning forward, trying to scan his injury, Jimmy hid his ankle away immediately. His face turned an even deeper shade of red "Don't worry about me. Really…"
"I insist." Superman smiled gently and slid his arms beneath Jimmy, lifting him effortlessly.
Jimmy nodded sheepishly "Okay... if you're sure. Thanks, Superman. You're my lifesaver."
Jimmy hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arms around Superman's neck for support. He leaned his head onto Superman's board chest.
Unexpected, Superman felt his heart skip a beat. He didn't think twice about helping out Jimmy but now the closeness between them was waking up something inside him.
His superhuman senses betrayed him; the warmth of Jimmy's body, the way their body touched, the trust in Jimmy's embrace—it was overwhelming. The air between seemed hot and heavy, and as he felt his penis, throbbing a little in his tights. He felt like his hand ached to clutch it, to do what he now never allowed himself to do. Or he wanted Jimmy to touch it, to do whatever he wanted to do with it. But thankfully, Jimmy's huge gym bag was pressed against his crotch, so he didn't have to worry about the possibility of some awkward revealing.
Focus, he commanded himself silently, pushing down the feelings stirring within him. He tightened his hold just slightly, ensuring Jimmy was secure, giving him a gentle smile, and took off, soaring out of the subway station and into the open sky.
As they took off into the sky, Jimmy let out a soft laugh, his nerves giving way to admiration. "I've always wondered what it'd feel like to fly with you. It's... amazing."
Superman looked at Jimmy in his arms, momentarily at a loss for how to respond to his words. All he could do was smile at him with gentlemanly grace. Though they were soaring above the bustling city, Superman couldn't hear any of the noise below. His eyes were fixed solely on the young and adorable reporter before him, held close in his embrace, feeling the rhythm of their heartbeats together.
Jimmy tightened his hold slightly, resting his cheek against Superman's chest for a moment. "Well, I'm not complaining. I mean, I'm not exactly in danger now—just my usual clumsiness. But... Thanks for looking out for me. You always do."
Superman hesitated, the words catching in his throat. "It's more than just my job."
"You're important to me, Jimmy. You always have been." Superman blurted out unintentionally, surprising even himself at how he had let his secret slip. But wasn't it the truth? Clark and Jimmy were practically inseparable everywhere they went. To others, they were the best of friends, but only they knew how their bond and feelings for each other, over time, grew deeper and more inseparable without them even realizing it.
Jimmy blinked, the sincerity in Superman's voice catching him off guard. "I—wow. That's... I don't know what to say. You're the most important person in the world to so many people. It's hard to imagine you'd think of me like that."
Superman smiled back softly, his grip steady as they soared higher. Superman held Jimmy even closer in his arms, pressing his chest tightly against Jimmy's face. Jimmy's lips were almost touching his chest, and his warm breath was so near, so tender. How he wished he could kiss him right now and tell Jimmy just how much he loved him.
Within his tights, underneath the gym bag, Superman's penis trembled.
"Your optimism, your bravery—it reminds me why I do what I do. You don't just report the truth. You inspire people, including me."
Jimmy's heart raced, and he laughed nervously. "You make me sound way cooler than I am. I'm just a guy with a camera and too much caffeine in my system most days."
Superman shook his head, a rare vulnerability in his tone. "You're more than that. You see the good in the world, even when it's hard to find. That's... rare, Jimmy."
Jimmy tilted his head to look at Superman. "You know, you're not so different. I mean, yeah, you're Superman, but you're also... human, in a way. You care so much. It's like you carry the weight of the world, but you never let it show."
"I've never seen the city like this before. It's so beautiful." Before Superman could say anything, Jimmy shouted out as he looked down.
Towering skyscrapers and throngs of people bathed in the soft, golden light of the morning sun. Everything seemed to shimmer with a gentle glow.
Jimmy suddenly lifted his head to look at Superman, their faces so close that their lips were almost touching.
Jimmy let go of Superman's neck and then gently placed his left hand on Superman's chest. His fingertips softly traced along the red 'S' logo. "I wish I could see the world through your eyes, Superman," he said softly.
Those words pierced Superman's heart like a bullet, and he felt as though his chest was overflowing with emotion. Yes, he wished Jimmy could know everything about him. He longed for the day when he could share his life with him completely.
Jimmy. His words and his touch seemed electric. Superman could hardly believe what was happening to him. The erection that he had fought so hard to master was threatening to return. And it seemed as if the warmth and proximity and intimacy of Jimmy's words and touch was the catalyst.
Superman's gaze softened, and he murmured, "But now you see. Jimmy. With me."
Jimmy's breath caught, the words hanging between them. He chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, I guess we're both good at making each other blush."
Superman laughed, a genuine, warm sound that eased some of the tension. "I guess we are."
As they neared the Daily Planet, Jimmy's tone grew quieter, more introspective. "Do you ever wish... you could just be normal? Not Superman, not the guy everyone depends on. Just... you?"
Superman paused, the question striking a chord. "Sometimes. But I wouldn't trade what I have. Being Superman—it's who I am. But there are moments, Jimmy, when I wish I could just... be there in a simpler way."
Jimmy's fingers tightened slightly on Superman's neck, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're there for me. Always. And that means everything."
Superman wanted to say something but the rooftop of the Daily Planet has already come into view.
Superman landed gently, setting Jimmy down with care. For a moment, neither of them moved, the air between them charged with something unspoken.
Jimmy cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Thanks again, Superman. I owe you one."
Superman nodded, his usual composure returning. Hands crossed against his crotch, hiding the fact that his penis stood stiff and pulsing. "No debt, Jimmy. Just... take care of yourself."
Jimmy hesitated, then added with a playful grin, "Actually... I need to confess something.
Superman blinked, "W... what? Jimmy"
Jimmy came forward and whispered near Superman's left ear "I faked the injury."
Superman caught completely off guard, hands dropped on his sides. "You... what?" He paid no mind to concealing his throbbing erection. It's true that he believed Jimmy and didn't even bother to scan for the injury.
Before he could fully process the confession, Jimmy leaned in and kissed him lightly on the cheek. The touch was fleeting, but it sent a jolt through Superman like nothing he'd ever felt before.
Jimmy pulled back, a mischievous grin on his face. "Just wanted to see if I could surprise the guy who sees everything. Guess I can."
He stepped back and noticed that remarkable bulge between Superman's thighs.
Before Superman could react, Jimmy casted a playful glance toward Superman's crotch, turned and dashed for the rooftop door, his laughter echoing behind him.
Superman stood frozen. A full minute passed before he shook himself free of the daze, realizing Jimmy was long gone. That fleeting, close moment with Jimmy still vivid in his mind—the shy smile, the touch on his chest, the playful glance. Superman chuckled softly, a sound rare for him, as the unfamiliar feeling settled deeper. Was it happiness? Excitement? Maybe even… hope?
Then reality hit him.
First, he noticed it—his erection, still faintly throbbing in his red briefs. His eyes darted downward, catching the unmistakable outline. Did Jimmy see that? Oh, Great Krypton, what would he think of me?
Second, he remembered his Clark Kent clothes and glasses were still left in the subway tunnel where he transformed. A groan escaped his lips as he imagined Perry White's no-nonsense face when he inevitably showed up to work late. "How could I forget the most basic rule of being Clark Kent?" he muttered, running a hand through his perfect hair.
"Nice move, Superman," he grumbled to himself before shooting up into the sky to retrieve his things. Yet, as he soared above the cityscape, a flicker of warmth lingered within him. It wasn't the sun's rays revitalizing his Kryptonian cells—it was something more... human.
"Focus, Kal," he told himself firmly, shaking his head as if to clear the thought. But the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth told a different story.
* * *
The scorching Florida sun beat down on the swampy mining site, turning the air thick and sticky. A middle-aged man, chained and begrimed, was shovelling muck from the marshy ooze near a quiet two-lane road.
Two federal marshals leaned casually against their battered truck parked along the shoulder, watching over their unusually chatty prisoner.
"What in the world is that racket you're makin'?" one of the marshals drawled, tipping his hat back.
"Mozart!" declared the prisoner dramatically, his chains jangling as he gestured with flair. "Even this wretched bog cannot silence the brilliance of true genius! While you've been toiling in this foul morass, I've been inspired! You see, life itself began in a primordial pool such as this. And I, Lex Luthor, genius extraordinaire, have conceived a plan to recreate life itself!"
The second marshal looked up from cleaning his fingernails and snorted. "Better keep shovellin', Luthor, or we'll see how much the 'gators appreciate your genius."
The other marshal grinned and cracked his knuckles. "Yeah, Luthor. Quit jawin' and start sweatin'."
Lex paused, shaking his head with a theatrical sigh. He glanced toward the heavens and muttered, "Surrounded by Neanderthals… What a waste of intellect." But even as he resumed his shoveling, his mind remained elsewhere, contemplating the murky waters and his latest scheme.
The sound of a roaring engine and a cloud of dust snapped everyone's attention toward the road. A sleek white convertible screeched to a halt beside the truck, kicking up dirt.
The driver hopped out—a young man with slicked-back, greasy golden hair styled into a perfect ducktail. Dressed in black leather pants adorned with silver studs and a huge jacket, he looked like he had stepped straight out of a rock concert.
The marshals exchanged a bemused glance, waiting to see what would unfold.
"Yo, Pops!" the newcomer called out, apparently oblivious to the chain gang. "Where am I, and how do I get to Fort Lauderdale?"
The first marshal smirked, pushing off the truck and walking over to the convertible. "Son, you're on the wrong side of the state," he said, trailing a finger along the hood. He gave the car an approving nod. "Now this is what I call wheels."
"Mind if I pop the hood?" the second marshal asked, clearly distracted by the gleaming vehicle.
"Go right ahead," the young man said, his grin widening. He casually reached into the car and pulled out two silenced pistols from beneath the driver's seat.
Before the marshals could react, the sharp hiss of suppressed gunfire echoed through the swampy air. Both men collapsed in an instant, crumpling to the ground without a sound.
The young man, unfazed, tucked the pistols back into the car and turned his attention to the stunned prisoner. With a flourish, he pulled off his sunglasses and flashed a toothy grin.
"Did I do okay, Uncle Lex?" he asked.
"Lenny," Lex said, "Took you long enough. I was beginning to think I'd have to teach these swamp rats about culture all by myself."
Smiling with pride for a job well done, Lenny took a large wire clipper from the car and freed his uncle from the chain, "Relax, Uncle. I had to make sure the car matched your aesthetic. A genius like you deserves to escape in style."
Luthor rubbed his wrists with a satisfied sigh, "About time. These brutes had no appreciation for my brilliance."
As Luthor slid gracefully into the driver seat, Lenny turned his attention to the fallen marshals.
After two minutes, the sound of splashing water and the faint movement of shadows in the murky depths signalled the arrival of the alligators.
Lenny wiped his hands on his leather pants as he strolled back to the car. "Got it, Uncle."
As Lex started the engine, Lenny's phone buzzed loudly. He fished out the phone from his jacket, and answered with a casual, "Yeah?"
The voice on the other end was gravelly and commanding. "This is General Todd. Is the extraction complete?"
Lenny smirked, glancing at Lex, "All done, General. Uncle Lex is free and enjoying the fresh air. You want to speak to him?"
"Put him on," Todd barked.
Lenny handed the phone to Lex, who accepted it with an elegant flourish, "General Todd," Lex said smoothly, "what a pleasure to finally hear from someone who understands the value of true genius."
"Luthor," Todd began without preamble, "I have received your letter and reviewed your proposal. Your idea of creating a superman loyal to the military-industrial complex is...intriguing. I see significant potential in your vision. That's why we authorized your escape. The resources you need will be at your disposal, but we need results."
Lex's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "I assure you, General, my plan is foolproof. However, there's one minor detail we must address first."
"Destroying Superman!" Both said at the same time, their voice cold and resolute.