WHO: Clark and Tim. WHAT: Basketball. WHEN: Afternoon. Backdated! WHERE: The park. RATING: PG.
Back when Clark had been in high school, there were three basic requirements for all of the boys who went there: they had to breathe, they had to walk, and they had to have at least tossed around some sort of sports equipment once in their lives. The astounding discovery that Clark made on Tim's part was that he never had. Not even once. It was such a shock that he immediately decided that the best solution to the problem, as Clark had just as recently learned that Tim was feeling a bit cooped up at the apartment complex, would be to teach the younger male how to play basketball. It was a pretty simple sport. If Tim didn't like it, he'd be happy to try and teach him something else. Football, maybe? Soccer? Baseball? Clark had never played anyone to the best of his natural ability through any of those sports, but he was more than able to hold back well enough to play along with other people. He had on the football team and he could when he was teaching Tim how to play. Yes, he always had an advantage because there really was no fair way to restrain himself, but Clark had guaranteed Tim that he'd try his best and that was exactly what Clark intended to do. Besides, they were in a public location. If he was going to show off with his super speed, he'd be doing it somewhere were there weren't any people to point and gasp.
Tossing the orange ball from one hand to the other, Clark bent his knees just slightly, raised his arms up, took aim, and released the ball into the air. It soared easily, lightly brushing against the metal rim and rolling it's way directly into the net. Swish. Smiling lightly, Clark jogged over to the ball and scooped it up in mid-bounce. He bounced it across the pavement toward Tim soon after, indicating for him to catch it before doing so.
"Go to the line," Clark instructed, pointing to the white line that must have been painted onto the ground ages ago. It was cracked and peeling; Clark could tell it really needed to be re-done. Maybe that wouldn't be a bad gig for him to do when there was nothing but work and sleep on his schedule? Volunteering to help fix this old park area up for those who came around and used it wouldn't be such a bad plan. From what Clark could tell, there certainly was a lot of kids who came through here. They'd appreciate a clean, nicely put together place to seek refuge when they wanted to play sports and hang out. Of course, when he had been a kid it didn't much matter to him. A place to hang out was always gonna be a place to hang out. And maybe that cracked and peeling paint line would be full of fun memories for those kids who were bouncing along it now. It really was conflicting, wasn't it? Maybe he'd just stop and ask some of the regular visitors who they felt about the matter before proceeding.
"Bend your knees. Raise the ball above your head and aim. You'll get the hang of it." Clark looked back to Tim encouragingly. "It's a fun game once you get used to it, I promise."