something to hit with

this is a single muse rp blog for one charles “barney” bernard barton of marvel comics, as loved by para. mun is 30+ and is here for a good time. important information is below. 

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kon gives barney a look but after a moment he seems content with his answer and nods.

“green lanterns a good choice, it’s kinda like magic too since you can make anything.” he says, and then his mind wanders because now that he thinks about it he’s not sure if it actually is magic. it always seamed kind of science-y ancient alien stuff, especially with those blue gnome looking guys running the corps. he’ll have to ask kyle about it next time they team up. 

“you’d look alright in green, not sure if that’s a color I wanna drape myself in.” barney in a lantern costume fills his mind easier than he’d assume, bringing amusement to his features as he laughs under his breath. 

“pfft, is that supposed to be hard?” kon asks, because if barney thinks he doesn’t have a list of hot heroes besides diana and zatanna, he sorely underestimates the fantasy scenarios currently catalogued in his mind. 

“emma frost. i met her at a gala once at the hors d'oeuvres table but we didn’t get to talk long before paparrazzi got in the way… next time though, i’ll get her alone on a balcony or somethin’.” 

“okay, if you had to take a cross-country road trip with anyone from the justice league, who would you pick? current or reserved members are fine.”

barney isn’t sure if he’d honestly look good in green or not. but when kon has confidence in something it’s hard not to just go with it. even believe it just a little bit. because kon has always seen the best in him, every time, without exception, even when he’s felt at his absolute and utter worst. and it’s strange and new to have someone believe something so hard about him that barney begins to believe it.

it lends some truth to the idea that the s really does stand for hope.

even if that hope certainly does seem to have a type. barney snorts at the answer, so hard he nearly sneezes. because he’s never met emma frost himself, but clint has and he’s fairly certain she’d see and hear kon coming long before she could ever be caught alone.

“emma frost, huh? might be hard to keep your thoughts to yourself there on that one.” a teasing grin. “is it because she’s even more fashionable than you?”

at the question, however, he hums. deep and low in his chest. he’ll be honest, he doesn’t know past justice league members that well. his attentions, understandably so he thinks, run more toward the new york based side of things. still.

“feel like the only one who’d appreciate a road trip the same way I would is probably ol’ supes himself. know he can fly, but. dunno.” he shrugs a bit, slightly embarrassed by the answer. “think he’d be the easiest one to talk to, an’ the one happiest to sit in silence.”

“i went to the library today,” it’s a complete lie, but kon is so committed to the bit that it may as well be true, and he knows that barney will be too ecstatic about it think through the details.

he sits down at the kitchen table, arms resting against the surface, coincidentally on time for whatever barney is cooking for lunch and continues.

“i was reading about greek mythology stuff. y’know, like achilles?” he pauses, giving barney a chance to recall that one. a person like kon talking about gods is probably not a surprising connection to make.

“like, all about the weakness in his heel and the battles he fought to be great. but then i found another greek god that had a similar fate, except i never heard of him before until today, so it’s got me wonderin’.

did kon actually go to the library? barney has severe doubts. they’ve had this conversation before and he distinctly remembers being called a nerd to his face. which he isn’t. and never has been.

he’s absolutely ready to call bullshit, and he lowers his book to do so. but the mention of a myth gives him pause. quizzical expression turning, well, hopeful? “you did, huh?”

“I know achilles, yea. tendon’s where he was dipped into the river styx...” he trails, however, because he isn’t entirely sure kon cares too much about that. the mention of another god, however, has barney’s brow furrowing. “yeah? not sure I know that one.”

 kon makes a face, one that tries not to look as horrified if only because barney is starting to look a little sad.

“no,” he starts, giving a shake of his head, “it’s just that you’re wearin’ ‘em with socks.” 

“it’s a forbidden fashion choice.”

an eyebrow raises. barney doesn’t profess to understanding fashion or what is or isn’t forbidden. but he knows he’d rather not see that look on kon’s face. so with a soft huff he slips his sandals off.

“all right, all right.”

a pause though.

“b.” kon has by now turned completely to face him, hands gripping him by the shoulders. 

he speaks slowly, with care.

“is this a cry for help? are you having a mid-life crisis? talk to me.”

barney blinks several times at that. if confusion could radiate from a body, the apartment would be at dangerous levels of it now.

“I...no?”

his nose wrinkles a bit.

 kon stares at him, leans forward to make sure he’s seeing what he’s seeing, glances back up to barney with all the frantic energy of a mother worried for her child.

he points, incredulously. 

“please tell me you did not leave the house wearing socks with your sandals.”

eyes went down, again, to the sandals on his feet. oh, right. he’d been wearing socks too. huh. blinking a bit, he raised a foot a bit as if that would help him determine if he had, in fact, been wearing them out of the house or not.

hesitancy, again, plays over his face.

a flick of a gaze couldn’t help but be amused at the fast and furious state of kon’s fingers. flying over that phone as if kon’s life depended on it. knowing the kid’s tendencies? chances are, it probably did.

he didn’t bother interrupting further. settling into the sofa, letting the cushions claim him.

barney can hear the horror in kon’s voice and an eye peeks open. “eh?”

clark’s grin is bright and delighted at the batman joke, at how something so small in gesture - like barney going along with a corny joke - makes a world of difference in alieviating some of the tension he feels in his shoulders. 

“okay, that’s fair.” he muses, reaching over to take the mug which, unexpectedly, is a superman one. something he doesn’t comment on because not only is he trying very hard to be seen away from a pedestal, he also doesn’t think they would benefit from any more of his - as the league so woefully puts it - dad jokes. 

which brings him to the reason why he’s here, actually.

“while i do make house calls, i admit this one is a bit unusual from most…” clark says, a bit slowly, but free from disdain. it would’ve been nice to be more prepared here, but there’s only so much he could have done in these circumstances - something that he has to keep telling himself now that he’s alive again and that the world has come up with so many more obstacles for him to solve since his absense. 

“for transparency, i’m here because superboy’s told me a lot about you over the past few months.” his head turns just a fraction, wondering if barney will lead them to sit; a passive gesture. 

“his current popularity means he meets hundreds of people a day, and while i can’t keep tabs on all of whoever those may be, i feel it’s in his best interest for me to have some involvement in the relationships important to him.” he says, with a small smile, because that’s not meant to be an offense against barney, but for some reason he’s struggling with the one thing he’s always been exceptional at: words. 

( or at least, that’s what it feels like. )

“i meant to come by weeks ago but i’ve been answering calls to a lot of crises lately.” 

there’s a stiffness to barney’s shoulders at that trail. as if he’s waiting for a judgement or a verdict to be laid down on him. his brain rolodexes through what he’s done this week. wincing inwardly at himself if only because while nothing stands out as particularly heinous this week, there’s probably something he’s missed.

what he didn’t expect was kon’s name.

which...in hindsight, perhaps he should have expected. and upon hearing it barney’s heart rate slows and he visibly relaxes. fingers unclenching around the constellation mug his coffee formerly occupied.

it takes him a moment to get to the crux of the words. and when he does, he blurts out, “you’re wantin’ to make sure I’m not a creep. I got it.”

a hand gestures to the small table. moving to sit himself and feeling his back twinge a bit at the motion. sipping his coffee for a moment as he struggles on how to go from there. he can’t really blame superman for this. and it’s nice to know there’s someone else who is vested in kon’s well-being.

still. the fact was he was sitting here having coffee with one of the world’s greatest heroes. what did you say to that?

“best laid plans an’ all tend to go awry when you got the weight of the world on your shoulders.” it’s said kindly, knowingly if not for like experience but for the fact barney can read the papers and he knows what superman’s days likely look like. he’d struggle to.

“ - i’m superman,” he says, finishing barney’s stammering with an introduction that might have sounded unkind had it come from anyone else. but clark would never assume that anyone knew who he was, even if the name superman has become renowned all over the galaxy; his ma taught him better, after all.

at the coffee offer, clark glady accepts, and maneuvers carefully into the open window before coming to a full stand in the livingroom.

“sorry for startling you, barney,” and really, he is; the kind of apology he has to make often, despite his best efforts to seem no better than his fellow man, “don’t tell batman, that’s more his tactic.” he says, his laugh light and airy with what he hopes is a decent ice-breaker.

“thank you for having me unannounced like this. i hope i’m not imposing…”

it should be condescending, having his sentence finished for him. but it isn’t and isn’t that just who superman is? the man could make the greatest let down sound kind. it’s something barney has always envied in the man, and always admired.

turning quickly, half forgetting where the mugs were in his own damn apartment, hand idly attempting to wipe coffee from his shirt, it took a moment for the joke to sink in. glancing over his shoulder in an almost owlish surprise before a small smile showed itself. “secret’s safe with me. though if you start wearin’ all black I might be morally obligated to let batman know he’s got stiff competition comin’.”

which, wow, why did he say that? ducking his head, barney felt the back of his neck redden as he finally found his own mugs. pulling the first he found without considering it.

there was just enough coffee to fill it. too nervous to look at the hero of the world standing in his kitchen.

“naw, not got much goin’ on.” and if he did, who said no to superman? turning, he offered the mug out, realizing then just which mug it was.

kon makes a very unconvincing ow at the thunk against his forehead, lifting a hand to rub at the spot just for dramatics. 

“everything above the boots,” he says, grinning until barney basically sacrifices the hypothetical spider-man, then he gasps.

“hey, spidey’s my bro!” but kon can’t feign offense for long, even if he lightly thwaps barney’s arm, and is already smiling again as he knits his brows back up at the sheet. 

any skill set…. that’s a good question. he’s already got so many, but there would be a few cool additions. like invisibility, or teleportation. maybe even shapeshifting, or lantern ring stuff… 

“um… oh! magic? that would be cool! i could be like a sexy guy version of zatanna or something.” no offense to jim corrigan or jason blood, but harboring god’s wrath or a demon just doesn’t sound like something he’d be cut out for; he’s a diva that enjoys a good show.

he turns his head back to barney, an eager glance.

“what about you?”

barney snorts and it’s funny how easy it is to laugh when kon is around. to let himself forget about finding the right words and instead just saying whatever comes to mind. lulled into a sense of peace that one only finds when you’re comfortable enough to not worry about what mask you’re wearing.

“above the boots, of course.” 

though the thwap given is met with a playful whine. falling back as if stunned or hurt though the grin on barney’s face indicates otherwise. “he’s not mine though. you are! bros before bugs.”

resettling again, barney idly drums his fingers. making his own guesses to the answer. the look he gives kon however is one of surprise. of all the individuals to pick well...actually, no, perhaps he should have seen zatanna coming.

“there isn’t one of those already?” to be fair, his knowledge runs far more along the lines of the JLA and those surrounding it. vigilantes a potent interest of his if only for the fact he likes to know who to avoid and who to try to bargain with. just in case.

magic, though? not his wheelhouse.

making a face at the choice, barney considers the question himself. there’s absolutely no way he’s going to say who it really is, so he goes with a second choice. “...green lantern. like the idea of makin’ a hand outta my mind to grab things across the room.”

 superman’s drifting descend down the side of the building is quiet, boots coming into view from up above until he drops low enough to have his face sit in the center of the open window. 

“hello,” he says with a little wave, careful so as to not startle, donning a smile that’s both friendly and apologetic as a hand comes to rest on the windowsill. 

“a little super told me this is where i could find ‘b’?”

visions of red in the window are surprisingly common these days. usually coming with a shock of black hair and bright blue eyes that bring a smile unbidden to barney’s face. he catches the flash of color from the corner of his eyes while pouring coffee, turning with a greeting already on his lips.

“hey, k-”

and stops, abruptly. every part of him freezing at the face that isn’t the face (but kind of technically is) he know.

that big s stares him in the face like a beacon and a spotlight shining onto his deer in the headlights expression. the coffee in his hand? is dripping down his button up from where it sloshed over the edge.

oh god.

“uhhhhh...”

good job, barn.

after being impatient for so long, the timer finally dings, and superboy’s souring face shifts to brief surprise. time flies when you’re on the brink of existentialism, he guesses, but there are no complaints here; food trumps all, especially when he’s hungry.

he stands from the chair, legs scraping against the floor as he crosses the kitchen to open up the cupboards, grabbing two large plates that quickly get set on the table. and just as his fingers lift up from the dining ware, he realizes how rare it is that he even gets to sit at a table to eat with others.

it’s something to idly think about as tucks a leg underneath when he sits, until barney places the food on the table and superboy’s attention turns towards it and all it’s cheesy-goodness.

“woah, this looks good.”

the souring expression isn’t lost on barney. well aware of the effects of hangry. it seemed super heroes suffered from some of the same maladies as the rest of the normal populace. it was almost comforting in a strange little way.

“it better. learned it from someone who knew exactly what they were doing.”

there’s a rare note of pride in barney’s voice. cooking isn’t a hobby, perhaps, but he’s got a few things he takes great joy in getting right. the uncomplicated enchiladas perhaps weren’t the best on earth. but they were pretty darn good and sometimes all you needed was hot and cheesy and plentiful.

“better be ready to eat. got an assignment the next few days and won’t be around to enjoy the leftovers.” granted, the assignment was for nothing fun - guarding - nor to help anything - they wanted that bear out from them.

Closer. Great. That meant there was trouble close by again, and she sighed, nodding her head. “Figures.” Almost feeling defeated, she moved her coffee aside, and offered the chair. 

“No, you’re gonna sit your ass down so I can stitch up anything that needs it.” If his nose was bleeding that bad, God knows what else happened to his face, or his hands. “It ain’t up for debate either, Barney.”

She’d have to remember to go back and restock Clint’s place, just in case…. Well, more like when something happens.

Like hell it wasn’t up for debate. Barney was not Clint, and while he respected Kate greatly for managing to wrangle his brother into some semblance of functional he didn’t need such guidance himself. Mouth opening to make this point well known, it never came. A wince coming instead as he felt the point made for him with the pull of cartilage and a trickle of blood down his face.

Glancing over and at the look on Kate’s face, Barney scowled a bit. “...fine.” But by the time he sat the scowl was gone, replaced instead with a tired scrub of a hand. There’d be little else to find that was serious; some scraped knuckles, a few knicks, a bruise or two. A fist fight that Barney hadn’t started but had certainly ended.

[ TXT - B🎯]: why not?? ppl do it to me all the time [ TXT - B🎯]: im literally always on the clock!!!! [ TXT - B🎯]: think i should write to her dressing room then?👀 do news ppl have those? [ TXT - B🎯]: didnt see a ring btw [ TXT - B🎯]: also dont u read… u never seen UGH before [ TXT - B🎯]: it the sound im makin rn talkin 2 u 🙄🙄