Arthur was dumbstruck. There he had been, idly floating along on his back, enjoying the sun warming his face and the ocean water gently moving him away from the shore. He could still see the sunbathers and children playing quite clearly; if he wanted to, he could easily swim right back to the pier. There were stingrays moving around underneath him, and he was idly aware of the tourists taking pictures of the sunset (or maybe of him?).
After ten minutes, it was getting dark, and a majority of the people had left. All except one, to be specific. Arthur watched the man curiously, turning over to swim closer to him. As he got closer, he’d recognized the glasses and slick black hair instantly.
“Clark!” He’d called out, waving to the man and grinning. Apparently, Clark had been expecting him. He’d returned the smile, and before Arthur could swim to him, he was flying over to him.
In a very small, very tight swimsuit.
Arthur had been rather taken aback; every time he’d seen Clark, he’d been in either his Superman costume or some sort of reporter get-up. He’d certainly never been this… exposed before. At least, not without fighting a big baddie or something first.
“Arthur! I was worried I’d miss you!” he’d been all sunshine and happiness, brighter than the sun itself.
“What brings you down here, friend?”
“Well, I was hoping we could… hang out, if that’s alright?” He’d looked away then, scratching behind his head and blushing, like he’d said something embarrassing.
“Sure, what were you thinking?” Clark gave him a quizzical expression, and they’d both looked at the shorts he was wearing. “Right, duh. You wanna go to Atlantis?” He’d pointed down, and Clark had shaken his head, a mischievous look on his face.
“Actually, I was hoping we could have a friendly competition.”
Arthur must’ve looked confused, because Clark continued without being asked. “Swimming. From that buoy-‘’ he’d pointed to the one nearest to them “-to that one.” He’d jabbed a thumb over to the right, motioning to one they both knew was about fifty miles down. Arthur smirked, quirking an eyebrow at Clark.
“I don’t think that’s a competition you’ll win, Clark.”
“Well, we’ll just have to see, huh?” He’d lowered himself into the water, shivered lightly at the colder water, then looked defiantly at Arthur.
“Alright, you’re on!” The Atlantian turned, and on Clark’s count, shot off, trying to check up on the man next to him while simultaneously swimming as fast as he could.
It was probably an interesting sight to see, Aquaman and Superman racing with what is probably a huge spray of water behind them, must likely rivaling the height of the dock.
He tapped the buoy and stopped, but when he’d turn to see how far behind him Clark might be, the other had been looking right at him, holding on to the buoy.
Their arms were touching, overlapping, and Arthur had forgotten the race. Clark was smiling at him, blue eyes sparkling, and water sliding down his skin. Arthur bit his lip, and Clark noticed. They were leaning closer, both lightly panting, waiting for the other to say something.
And then they were kissing.
It was salty, though Clark’s lips more than made up for it with how soft they were. Arthur scooched closer and moved his hand to grip Clark’s forearm. When the other sighed into his mouth, he’d pulled them together, chest to chest. It was really useful, having lung capacity like they did.
Arthur pulled away first, having felt something- one of the stingrays, probably-touching his feet. They had gaped at each other, Arthur releasing Clark’s arm and moving backwards. There had been a brief moment ‘What the hell did we just do?’, until a siren had gone off back in town.
Clark had turned towards it, then looked back at Arthur.
“Go ahead,” Arthur nodded towards the city, and Clark had flashed a quick smile.
“Right, see you… later,” and just like that, Clark had gone.
And here Arthur was, an hour later, still going over the whole thing in his head.