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gabbysdawsons · 3 years

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clark and tyche pLEASE for that crossover ask

this took... so long. apologies. it also turned into a blurb about the group that happened to be from clark's perspective but can you blame me? you know they would all walk her to work on her first day.

Tyche couldn’t seem to stop tucking her hair behind her ear, and if Clark had been any younger—not that he was old to begin with—he would have made a game of it. Tyche raised her hand to brush her hair, already tucked neatly behind her ears, back from her face, and Clark gently bumped his shoulder against hers, startling her. He smiled softly as he looked at her, the action familiar and commonplace to him now. In those handful of years since they had first met, Clark couldn’t recall a time where Tyche Kroft hadn’t made him smile.

“You’re going to be great,” he told her, signing the words as he went. She rolled her eyes a little, but he caught the hint of a smile on her face.

“You have to say that,” she signed back, “you’re my boyfriend.”

“Don’t believe me? Ask King, he’s not capable of being nice,” Tyche rolled her eyes at him in earnest, but a smile had replaced the nervous pinch of her lips—she knew he was right. “And it’s just a summer job, if it doesn’t work out, there’s always another one.”

“Hey, lovebirds. We’re here,” Julian Maybank, seventeen and brimming with the same effortless charm his brother pretended to have, held a dinged up Polaroid camera in front of his face with one hand. His tone had been dull—teasing—but his enormous grin and tight grip on the camera betrayed his excitement. Penny’s Diner stood before them in all its mildly grubby glory; the wheel of a neon lined roller skate flickering from the sign. Clark caught a flash of red hair through the window, and apparently Tyche had to because her smile melted into a worried frown.

“She,” Clark gestured pointedly to the window, “isn’t going to be a problem.”

“It’s not her, it’s—” her hands still, eyes alight with worry. Clark can feel Julian and King’s scrutinizing stares burning into the back of his head, neither of them willing to put Tyche’s worries into words. None of them had talked about it since; that had been the deal.

“Not a problem,” Clark repeated, his words coming out with a casualty he was struggling to feel himself. “Trust me.”

Clark pressed a kiss against Tyche’s cheek, wrapping his arms around her in a hug as he did. He could feel as the tension in her shoulders loosened under his touch. A quiet click and subsequent flash signaled the use of the camera. Clark rolled his eyes and kept his attention pinned on Tyche; two years together and he still couldn’t quite believe she was his girlfriend. Beautiful, brilliant Tyche Kroft. A dry cough interrupted his thoughts, and he tore his attention from his girlfriend long enough to catch the deadpan expression on King’s face.

“Do you want her to be late on her first day?” he asked, thoroughly unimpressed with their display of affection. Clark pressed another quick kiss to Tyche’s cheek before releasing her, though Julian quickly replaced him. He was taller than Tyche by half a head at least and had to lean down to kiss the top of her sand coloured curls—a simple form of affection he had taken to using on all of them.

“Good luck.”

King stood apart from them, his arms crossed loosely over his chest as he surveyed them with his typical skeptical look. His glasses were perched to the top of his head, and his hair stuck out at odd angles, displaced by the lenses. Clark wondered if he could see them as any more than shapeless blobs of colour.

“I’m not kissing you,” he said, and Tyche cracked her first genuine smile since they had picked her up from the Carrera’s that morning.

“Alright guys. Get outta here,” said Julian, grabbing King by the back of his hoodie and yanking him off to the side. King sputtered in indignation. Clark barely had a moment to choke out a laugh when Julian did the same to him—hauling him away from the building and shuffling him back as if to corral him behind some invisible line. Tyche shot Clark a quizzical look, and he shrugged in response. He had found it easiest to not argue with Julian—or any of the Maybanks, for that matter. “We have a first day of work photo to take.”

Clark grinned at his girlfriend as she stood there in front of the diner, grinning ear to ear as Julian snapped a picture of her with the ancient camera. God. How was he supposed to go a whole day without her?

#ask: clark #clark lachance #clark x tyche #fic: stand by me #my writing #answer #0itmelex0 #crossover #julian maybank #mark kingston #i hate that this is his name #nancy merril #mentioned #obx ocs #outer banks ocs #ch: tyche kroft

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