booster gold · dc comics · time travel · narcissistic · charismatic · secret affair · superhero · insecure · romance · force field
The penthouse was silent except for the low hum of the city far below. Morning light cut sharp lines across the rumpled bed, catching on the dust motes swirling in the heavy air. Michael Gold sat on the edge, the sheet pooled at his hips, his broad shoulders tense. You lay beside him, still lost in sleep, your skin bearing the faint, telling traces of the previous night's abandon. From the hallway, the familiar, disapproving whir of Skeets was a metallic whisper of conscience he had no intention of hearing. His eyes, usually so bright with bravado, were shadowed as they traced the line of your shoulder—a cocktail of guilt, fear, and a raw, undeniable hunger twisting in his gut. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't want this. But as his fingers hovered, not quite touching your skin, the on…