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corner-stories · 1 year ago

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new york is not just a town that you'll never lose

Bart Allen. Tom Bronson. New York Subways. Arm Chairs. Post-Graduation Possibilities. 2554 words. (ao3.)

It had been five days since Bart Allen had begun his “internship” with the Justice Society of America and only five days since he first arrived in Manhattan.

On top of staying in the Battery Park brownstone free of charge, Bart was attending team meetings, participating in training sessions with the old man in the cat suit, and making sure to carve out time to appreciate the city.

New York was certainly a change of pace from the Bay Area university he had called home. Gone was the lively campus and salty sea air outside of his dorm. Now when he stepped out the door Bart was greeted to the sound of people yelling over rush hour traffic.

During the last five days, Bart was fortunate to have lived through a handful of quintessential New York experiences.

He had walked past an influencer recording a video of some kind of colorful, gimmicky instagrammable food item. He had gotten yelled at by a Yankees fan for daring to don his Keystone Salamanders baseball cap in public. He had visited the fabled “bodegas” that New Yorkers talked so lovingly about, only to be disappointed to discover that they were essentially family-owned corner stores. He had also tried the “chopped cheese sandwich” that the locals claimed was superior to every other American sandwich, and was even more disappointed to discover that it was essentially a deconstructed hamburger.

Today Bart was going through something that he didn’t see on the various listicles and articles regarding “authentic” New York experiences.

Tom Bronson, Ted Grant’s son and the better-looking Wildcat, had found a “friggin’ steal” on Craigslist. Some NYU drop-out drowning in student debt was in desperate need to get rid of the furniture in their dorm. Apparently, after flunking out of school he needed to move out of the city ASAP and couldn’t bring most of his things. As Tom had been wanting an armchair for his room for the last few months, he had stalked the original posting until the last minute, when the original poster finally had no choice but to give the chair away for free just to get things over with.

With most other JSA members too busy to help Tom with his errand, he had enlisted the team’s fresh meat to get the job done. Always down for an adventure and a reason to avoid training with the older Wildcat, Bart didn’t hesitate to say yes.

Carrying the armchair out of the NYU dorm proved to be the easy part, as both the pretty boy Wildcat and the gangly Speedster had enough strength to lift the furniture down the flight of stairs. They didn’t even need to scream “PIVOT!” once.

Even walking through Washington Square Park wasn’t that difficult. Most of the New Yorkers in the area were too busy with themselves to pay attention to the two pretty boys playing the role of movers for the day.

However, the difficult part was carrying the chair into the subway station.

Tommy yelled every curse in the English language as he and Bart struggled to get the armchair over the turnstile. As Bart awkwardly held onto the legs of the item and tried to remain on his feet, he noticed that Tommy’s Brooklyn accent got even thicker with every word.

The fact that the two hadn’t been stopped by security was some kind of miracle.

After the nightmare that was getting the armchair past the entrance and swiping their metro passes, the plucky duo carried the furniture down a flight of stairs and onto the train platform. The only people that paid attention to them were the ones that bumped into the chair. Even then, the only words being exchanged were variations of the phrase “outta my way” or “ move, dickhead.”

Due to both his cavalcade of curse words and the physical strain of carrying the armchair, Tommy was out of breath as they walked to the edge of the platform.

“Okay…” he said, breathing in and out. “Just… drop it… here…”

From the other side of the chair, Bart nodded and did as he was told. Once the item was on the ground, Bart watched Tom collapse, just barely catching himself on the arm of the furniture.

“Welp, that’s one for the bucket list,” said Bart as he glanced around the area. At this hour of the morning, the place wasn’t too crowded.

“Yeah… can we… take five…?” Tom begged as struggled to pull himself onto the chair.

Once again, Bart nodded, then reached over to pull the Pretty Boy Wildcat off the platform.

“Here, lemme help.”

Tom looked relieved as Bart plopped him onto the chair. “Thank you,” he said, still struggling to get air into his lungs.

Bart grinned as he rested his bottom against the arm of the chair. Despite Tommy heaving like a Prius driving up a hill, Bart felt assured to know that there was someone in the world with less upper-body strength than him.

A few minutes passed as Tom recovered and Bart watched the trains move past the platforms. Still being new to the city, he had been relying on Google Maps just to get from A to B, and even then it was difficult to pinpoint exactly where he needed to go.

It was times like these where Bart was thankful to have a local help him get around, as he had possibly no way to decipher which train would bring them back to the Battery. In fact, Bart was pretty sure he was just one mistake away from hopping on the wrong subway and disappearing into Queens forever.

A few more trains passed by before Bart checked his phone for the time. He then turned to Tommy and asked, “So… which one’s ours?”

Now in a much less tired state, Tom nodded his head towards the train just pulling up to the platform and pulled his ass off the armchair.

“This one. Come on!”

Once the subway train stopped at the track and opened its doors, Tommy and Bart lifted the armchair and rushed it to the car. Somehow the impossible was achieved and they managed to get it in with significantly less hassle then with the turnstile. And by the grace of the subway gods there were not too many passengers on this particular train.

“Alright, set it here,” Tommy said as he lowered the chair.

Just like before, Bart did what he was told. Once the chair was down on the ground, there was just enough time for Tommy to flop himself onto the cushions before the subway doors closed. The train began to move as Bart found a nearby seat.

While Tommy reveled in a well-earned rest, Bart looked out the window to see nothing but the moving darkness of New York’s underbelly. Internally, he compared it to the Bay Area Rapid Transit system he used back at university, the train he had gotten used to riding for the last two years.

Frankly, the smells and vibes were all the same, the only difference being that New York’s trains were a lot louder and more prone to two young men feeling a bit silly that day.

Speaking of which, Bart glanced over to Tommy, who was grinning from ear to ear as he took in the sight of the Speedster on the train.

“Look at you, Allen!” Tommy said enthusiastically. “Lookin’ like a real New Yorker already!”

Bart let out a chuckle. “I don’t think so, I haven’t yelled ‘I’m walkin’ here!’ at a total stranger yet.” Upon hearing his attempt at an angry New York accent, Bart internally noted that his Christopher Walken impression needed some work.

“True, true,” Tommy replied, shrugging and leaning back in his chair. “You’ll probably do that by the end of the week.”

Bart gave a smile as Tommy looked at his newfound chair. Now that he wasn’t trying to catch his breath or cursing like the Brooklyner he was, he finally had time to bask in the glory of a good deal.

“Damn, can you believe the quality of this thing?” he said as he ran his fingertips against the pristine, unblemished leather of the chair. “NYU trust fund babies really spare no expense.”

Bart chuckled, amused. “I’m gonna assume that you’re not an alumni?”

“Me? Nah, I’m too smart for that,” Tommy laughed off. He crossed his legs as he settled into his seat, then pointed to his chest with both his thumbs. “Hunter College, represent!”

“What’d you study?”

“Music… with an emphasis on composition and performance,” Tommy said with an air of ease. He then shrugged. “‘Cause why the fuck not, right?”

The Speedster let out a laugh. Bart had only been friends with the better-looking Wildcat for a handful of days, but during that time he learned three specific things about Thomas J. Bronson.

He played a multitude of musical instruments and sang like a young Chet Baker. He worked two different shitty bar jobs while attending college part-time. He also had a killer stash hidden inside of his room at the Brownstone, something he used as both musical inspiration and to help him cope with the unbearable stress of being alive.

Apparently, the old farts of the JSA were okay with it — their only complaints pertained to the smell.

Taking in a breath of the not-so-fresh New York underground air, Bart quickly checked his phone. He swiped away a few of his university emails, promising himself to read them later, and quickly answered a text from Jesse, who was asking where he was. Unsurprisingly, Jay had wondered where Bart had run off to but was too technologically inept to figure out his smartphone and send a text.

Smirking, Bart made sure that his reply was as blunt as possible. Knowing Jesse, it was very possible for her to interpret "riding the subway with Tomcat and an armchair we took from NYU” as Bart messing with her, which was exactly what he wanted.

“So… when are you graduating again?”

Bart looked up to see Tommy still relaxing in his chair.

“Year and a half,” he replied as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious,” Tom explained. He sat up in his chair just slightly. “I think it’d be cool if you came by more often, we could do more shit like this.”

“Well, nothing’s ever far from me,” Bart assured with a simple smile. “I’m sure I could find the time no matter where I am. New York is pretty sick.”

“Yeah, lived here my whole life,” Tom said. He placed one of his hands behind his head. “It never gets old, just more expensive.”

Bart did not hesitate to nod along. “Oh, definitely. Why the hell is boba eight dollars over here?!” he said in genuine disbelief. “The economy’s in fuckin’ shambles!”

Somehow, Tommy managed a laugh, which prompted Bart to do the same.

He had visited New York in the past, and every time he had been utterly enchanted by the city that never sleeps. In his heart he had held some affection for all the places he had lived — Manchester, Keystone, Central, Denver, even his sporadic stays in San Francisco — but there was something alluring about New York.

There was a kind of spark to the city that Bart couldn’t deny, a spark that reminded him of the thunder in his heart before each adventure. He felt it in the sounds, the sights, and even the smells, as pungent as some of them may be.

As Bart gave Tommy a smile, his mind pondered the possibility of New York being in his post-graduation future. Most people in his university department headed straight to Silicon Valley to begin start-ups or work for them, but the ones who didn’t either went to grad school or found their calling elsewhere.

Bart wondered if his future could be the same. Many of his professors spoke at length about how much they enjoyed earning a master’s degree, some had gone on to study robotics while others had synthesized their engineering skills to explore the field of applied physics.

Over the last few months, Bart had caught himself rifling through grad school brochures more than once.

Sure, more school meant more tuition and Bart didn’t want to abuse the Official Bank of Jessica Belle Chambers for longer than he should. Besides, Jesse and Rick were likely putting away some money for little Johnny’s college fund. The last thing Bart wanted to do was to harm the future of his favorite nephew.

Perhaps Bart would be lucky enough to find his own way to make it through. A dual degree in electrical engineering and computer science could certainly get him places, even if it was just a bachelor’s.

New York was certainly one hell of a tech hub. Heck, during his first breakfast at the JSA Brownstone, Power Girl herself had encouraged him to apply to her company after he graduated. Apparently, Starrware prided itself on its robust, fulfilling internship programs specifically tailored towards fresh college grads. It would have to take a force of lovecraftian proportions to refuse an offer like that.

It would also be nice to have a reason to be near the JSA again.

“Yo, we’re comin’ up soon,” Tommy spoke, his words breaking Bart out of his thoughts.

The Speedster glanced over to see Tommy standing up from his chair. Bart blinked as the mumbled, canned subway audio announced that the train was approaching Bowling Green station.

“Come on!” said Tommy, and to that Bart nodded along and got onto his two feet.

Fortunately for the plucky duo, the process of taking their precious armchair off the subway was slightly easier than getting it back on. Just like before, the stream of New Yorkers matriculating onto the platform paid no attention to the two randos carrying an armchair off the train.

Bart looked to Tom for guidance again. The Pretty Boy Wildcat led the Pretty Boy Speedster to the nearby staircase, trying to not drop the chair as they went. Tom sucked in a breath as he and Bart worked together to slowly move the piece of furniture upwards, moving step by step to avoid death by staircase tumble.

Once they got to the top, Tom and Bart set the armchair down on the ground as they both looked upon the next obstacle standing in their path — the final turnstile.

Tommy sucked in a breath as he glared at the gate, staring at it like it was the final boss in a video game he had sunk too many hours into.

“Alright, just one more to go…”

He then looked towards Bart. “Yo, in engineering, you learn like… physics and shit too?”

Running a hand through his hair, Bart nodded. “Yeah, it’s part of the course.”

“Good, then put that to use!”

Without warning, Tom grabbed his side of the chair, prompting Bart to immediately do the same.

As the pair of pretty boys made haste and rushed the armchair towards the turnstile, Bart held his breath as he prepared for the unknown. In the few seconds before truly hitting the barrier, Bart let out words that — amongst the chaos — he prayed that the subway gods would hear.

“And they say university is hard…”

#Bart Allen #Tom Bronson #Impulse #Wildcat #Kid Flash #Tommy Bronson #JSA #Flashfam #DC #Wildflash #i'm too invested into a bromance that's basically fanon

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