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Clark still remembered when he realized he had feelings for Bruce. Granted, it was a gradual thing–he almost didn’t even realize it in the first place. Some time during the past few years, the meetings lasted longer, the glances turned intimate, and the lingering thoughts became persistent.
It all changed when Dick made a flippant joke about the two of them, something that should’ve meant nothing. It was just a tease, if anything. They were in the Batcave, only him and Bruce, when Dick popped in.
“I hate to interrupt your little date, but I’ve got some new footage that you’re going to want to see.”
Date? It wasn’t a date! That would be ridiculous. They were simply coworkers. Friends. Close friends. Besides, it doesn’t even matter. He doesn’t even feel anything romantic towards Bruce! He wouldn’t want to go on a date with him, or stare at him longingly, or take off his cowl to look at him in his mysterious dark eyes before leaning in to kiss him–oh.
OH.
Things started to fall into place after that. Now, unbelievably, the moment was here. Bruce had asked him to dinner, this time with more than just a casual air. This time there was something more.
He couldn’t help but feel jittery. Everything felt so normal, and yet so different. Sitting there, in the quaint little restaurant, he felt strikingly out of place. Bruce looked as dashing as always, his hair stylishly messy and outfit tailored to perfection. His sleeves were rolled up just slightly, and a hefty watch glinted under the low lighting.
He was pretty sure his loose curls were a mess, not to mention he was just now noticing his shirt had come untucked. He knew that Bruce could care less, but when half of you is a world-renowned hero, it’s easy to feel inadequate when the other half is quite bland.
Sure, they had spent a lot of time together, but mostly in uniform. Everything was so much easier like that. It was just him and B organizing files or staking out. There was always something to solve, something to fight, and something to talk about. Sure, he had spent moments with Bruce as civilians due to both their jobs, but yet again there was always something to talk about. It quickly dawned on Clark that they hadn’t actually spent much time just the two of them, as regular people.
“Clark? Anything wrong? You’ve been staring out the window so long I’m worried you’re going to burn a hole through it.” Bruce prodded, a mix of playfulness and true concern. Clark snapped back to reality, a twinge of embarrassment settling in his gut.
“I guess I’m just a little on edge. I haven’t spent much time as a civilian in Gotham.” He adjusted his glasses as his eyes flicked to the ground, only to shift over to Bruce. “It feels odd to not be in uniform.” He chuckled. It wasn’t necessarily a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. It was enough of Bruce’s posture to relax slightly, which by Bruce standards, was a dramatic sigh of relief.
“And I’m supposed to be the workaholic. Dick and Tim are out tonight, if that puts your mind at ease.”
“It’s really alright. I just need to relax.” Clark assured with a sigh.
“We’ll find a way to get you to relax, I’m sure of it.” Bruce’s gaze dragged over to the other man’s with the last phrase, his eyes laced with something tantalizingly unreadable. Clark was familiar with Bruce’s thinly disguised charms. No matter how many times he had told himself to push his feelings down, Bruce always managed to get him flustered like an awkward highschool crush. Heat crawled up his neck and settled on his cheeks. Bruce smirked and returned to prodding his food.
“You know, this place has fantastic baklava. Nowhere else in the states does it quite like them.” Bruce said as they finished up their meal.
“Baklava? Never tried it.” Clark smiled, happy to keep the conversation going.
“Well that has to change. Here the pastry layers are so thin you could see through them, it’s fantastic. It must be a trade secret, because when I try to make it back at home I never get the lamination right.” Clark was always taken aback at just how much Bruce knew about everything. Clark could retain information at super-speed, but Bruce did it all purely by cleverness. It was endearing.
“That really sounds wonder…full…” Clark’s drawl slowed as his eyes drifted over to the window on their right. Something swift flickered in the corner of his eye. He analyzed the dimly lit environment, his senses on high alert. Directly across the street, perched keenly on the top of a three-story building, was a trio of silhouettes.
They weren’t moving, weren’t speaking–they were just watching. With his decent night vision, he could make out their builds. One was significantly smaller than the other two, and they were all crouched just above the roof’s ledge, barely visible. The only way he could get a better look was to move, and that wasn’t going to happen subtly.
“It is,” Bruce answered, proceeding to clear his throat. “Anyways, how is your new project at The Planet coming along? If I remember right it’s about the history of Metropolis Park?”
“It’s actually very interesting, it’s all about biodiversity.” Just as he said it, he noticed a fourth figure land next to the pair. They were even larger than the other two, but still completely covered in darkness. This was more concerning. Three people on top of a building in Gotham was suspicious, but a rendezvous was even worse.
“Really? Tell me more.” Bruce spoke into his drink, taking a hasty sip. If Clark knew better he would say he looked out of sorts, which was odd, as he has never seen him even remotely frazzled. Ever.
“Well, the parks are all man-made, but all of the wildlife was curated to sustain the original environment. Every tree species, every flower, even the animals–they were all picked out based on years of scientific research.” Even though he was desperately trying to pay attention, he was still sneaking glances over to the roof.
His unease truly set in when two more figures appeared, crouching in sync with the others. He had to find a way to get them out of there, even if it meant cutting their time together short. He was disappointed, but he knew there were more pressing matters at hand.
“Really? Even the animals? Because I’m pretty sure the ROBINS aren’t supposed to BE THERE.”
What?
Bruce was gripping the glass in his hand with so much force the tips of his fingers were white. He had plastered on his most award-winning smile, but his eyes had a deep set anger to them. Immediately a thousand possibilities were rushing through his mind. Was he trying to tell Clark something? Maybe he was also some sort of ornithology expert? Did he know something Clark didn’t?
“I’m sorry?” Clark furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Bruce bared his gritted teeth in a pearly-white smile, this time a twitch caught the edge of his lip.
“I was just saying that the ROBINS NEED TO LEAVE or there is going to be CONSEQUENCES, right?” His eyes were fixed squarely on Kent, but it was as if he was looking right through him.
Clark sputtered, trying to string together a consecutive train of thought. Was he making him uncomfortable? Was he boring him? Was he really just putting up with Clark this whole time?
To make matters worse, the figures were gone. The only thing worse than finding out that someone was watching you was losing your sight of them. They needed to get out of there.
“I really think we should–”
“I’m sorry, but I think we have to–”
They both stood up from their seats in one swift motion, chairs scraping against tile, their words tumbling over each other’s. They both wore the same look of strained concern.
“I’m really sorry, Clark, but I have some business to attend to briefly. It really has been wonderful, but it’s best that we get going.” Clark’s heart dropped right to the soles of his shoes. He knew that things weren’t going smoothly, but it still hurt to have his fear proven correct. All those years of dreaming of his chance with Bruce squashed in one night.
“I…I understand.” Clark was whole-heartly disappointed that they were leaving, but he was relieved that they were getting out of there. He could survey the area better from outside.
“I’ve got the bill. If you could wait by the car, I’ll be back in a minute. I’m really sorry, Clark.” Bruce met his gaze for a brief moment, and even dared to flash a regretful smile as they headed out into the empty street. Bruce ran a hand through his hair as he strode off to the adjacent alley. The moment that he was out of sight, Clark began surveying the area, making sure to keep an ear out for Bruce’s heartbeat.
Something caught his attention as he listened. It must have been the silhouettes from before. They were now congregating on the roof of the restaurant, arguing amongst themselves. It was only hushed whispering, and–wait a minute–Clark knew those voices. A more distinct voice joined the fray. This one he knew by heart.
“Everyone. Alley. Now.” It was a gravely snarl he could recognize anywhere. He’s heard it through a comm in his own ear many times.
Soon followed the sound of feet landing on concrete and the rustle of kevlar in the thick Gotham air.
“I’m giving you two minutes to explain yourselves.”
“Bruce, it’s not as bad as it looks.” Was that…Dick? He, of course, knew his voice when he heard it, yet his uncertainty lingered. What was he doing here?
“Please enlighten me. Because I’m not even sure what I’m looking at.”
“Well, Oracle alerted us that Damian snuck out. Tim and I were already out, so we decided to track him down–”
“I was bored, I didn’t even know about this.” There was Jason, his voice still recognizable through the helmet. “I just followed Dick.”
“Father, I was unaware of your romantic endeavor with Kent. Tim alerted me. I refuse to let this happen, I came here to retrieve you.” That was Damian, his words sharp. Were the mysterious figures from before really just Bruce’s kids?
“Tim, why did you tell Damian? Damian, you were supposed to be asleep.”
“Damian came down to get a glass of water and he asked where you were, I didn’t know he would sneak out–” Tim started in defense and Bruce let out a hefty sigh.
The curiosity was eating him alive. He knew he really shouldn’t, but he started to make his way towards the back of the alley. Once he turned the corner, he could see them all gathered under a rusty fire escape, half-shroud in shadows. Clark was conveniently hidden by a heaping stack of milk crates.
“So, if you were simply getting Damian back home, why were all of you staking out?” Clark could just make out the face Bruce was making. Eyes sharp, brow firm, and jaw set. If you saw him, you would think he was perfectly composed. If you knew him, you would know that he was absolutely seething.
“Well, it wasn’t really a stake-out,” Steph chimed in. She was standing next to Duke who was shuffling back and forth on his feet awkwardly . “We heard over the comms that the three of them were out getting Damian, who had somehow found the location of your date, and we decided to…check in on things.”
Bruce let out a grunt of disbelief.
“So the rest of you snuck out as well? Not only should you not be here in the first place, but this situation does NOT call for all of you.”
“It’s always a good idea to have back up. Consider it a contingency.” It was Jason again, his tone flippant. They all went quiet after that.
“I’m really sorry, Bruce, it wasn’t supposed to get in the way of things.” Duke was the one to break the silence, the others tight-lipped and avoiding eye contact.
“He saw all of you. ALL of you. Not to mention you all left your comms on the open channel. I heard everything. He could’ve been listening to everything. Hell, if I didn’t warn you over the comms, he might’ve overheard you all on the roof snickering about my love life.” Well, that was a little ironic, considering Clark was currently listening in. “If I wasn’t so upset I would be disappointed in your lack of protocol.”
“Um, Bruce–” Dick interjected quickly, stepping forward from the small crowd of vigilantes.
“Not now. When we all get back to the manor, each and every one of you will be apologizing to Clark. Damian, we will be having a talk, and then you are going back to bed.”
“Bruce, about that–” Cass huffed, her stance poised.
“We will be finishing this discussion when we all get back to the manor. Keep your comms on, we do not need any more surprises tonight.”
“Clark has been standing behind those milk crates and listening to everything since the beginning of this conversation.” Cass finished, her faceless mask turned right in his direction.
Crap.
He walked out from behind the crates as every head and cowl turned to look at him.
“I’m really sorry, I just had to make sure you were alright, and I didn’t want to just wait by the car in case there was a threat. I didn’t realize they were, y’know, your kids. Hi, everyone.” Clark gave a small wave, and only a few had the heart to return it. Bruce ran his hand through his hair yet again with a sigh. “So…do your kids always tag along to your flings or what?” He chuckled and walked over to Bruce, resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Anything to lighten the mood.
“I’m terribly sorry, Clark. I wanted to make this feel as normal as possible. Just a nice night, the two of us.” Bruce looked right into Clarks eyes with intent, which made his heart bloom inside his chest.
“It’s really alright. I understand that they were just looking out for you.”
“Not me. I try my hardest to not know who Bruce is fucking.” Jason grunted, his large frame leaning up against the alley wall haphazardly. Clark’s face burned red with the assumption, his eyes suddenly very interested in the gravel below him.
“Jason. Watch your mouth.” Bruce pointed a warning finger right in the other’s direction, his eyes steely.
“Or what, you’re gonna kill me?” Jason tilted his head, his stance unwavering.
Bruce chose to ignore that and turned to look at Clark again.
“I’d really like this night to continue. How about we take this back to my place? I know it’s nothing special.” Clark tried to hide how relieved he felt, a smile dimpling his cheeks.
“I’d love that, Bruce.” They started to walk back to Bruce’s car, content smiles on both of their faces.
“Ooooooo, go get ‘em, Bruce.” Stephanie called from behind them, a gloved hand held up to her mouth. “Oh, and Oracle wishes you good luck, in case you didn’t hear.”
“I heard, Steph. Everyone, go home. Now. And don’t think you’re getting out of apologizing to Clark.” Bruce’s tone turned sharp, which reminded Clark of his mother’s tone when he was caught out too late as a teen.
“They really don’t have to do that.” He muttered just loud enough for Bruce to hear.
“Oh, they do, and they will.”
Clark chuckled as they got back to Bruce’s sleek black sports car. His kids were almost as stubborn as he was.
Back at Wayne Manor, the now-civilian vigilantes stood in the main living room and muttered their apologies to Clark. It was more humorous than anything, some being more sincere than others. All Damian managed to get out was a huff, which was expected. He was still a kid, after all. The idea of his father having romantic ties with someone besides his mother was jarring. Just as they were all about to go their separate ways, Dick pulled Clark aside.
“I wanted to tell you that, one, I am actually sorry. And, two, I called it.”
“What?”
“Er, I mean I support you both. I see how happy you make Bruce. Maybe I’m a little biased, but I hope this works out.” Dick shrugged, but there was nothing but seriousness in his tone. It was incredibly reassuring to hear.
“That means a lot. I really hope this works out, too.”
“Dick, you don’t have to interrogate my date.” Bruce chuckled as he appeared behind them.
“Alright, alright, I get it. I’m leaving.” He laughed and shut the door behind him, giving one last knowing glance to them both.
“There’s something I want to talk about.” Bruce sat them both down on the plush couch, his arms crossed neatly over his chest. “It’s about something you said in the alley.”
“Oh?” Clark adjusted his glasses again.
“You…” The other man sighed. “You said ‘fling’ when referring to us.” His dark eyes lifted up slowly, searching Clark’s face. “I want you to know that’s not how I see this. I don’t want you to think this is another one of my publicity stunts. I truly care about you, and I have for a long time.”
Clark’s breath hitched, his eyes flickering back and forth between dark irises. He really does have deep feelings for him? He has for a long time?
The other continued, reaching out to place a tentative hand on Clark’s.
“I know I come with a lot of baggage. I’m not the ideal partner. You’re selfless and honorable. I’m stubborn and brooding.”
“Bruce.”
“This isn’t going to get easier. I want this to be serious, but I know it’s asking a lot.”
“Bruce.” The reporter leaned closer, a hand creeping up the other’s arm.
“If you don’t want this, then–”
Clark closed the gap between them in a split second, lips meeting harshly and teeth clacking together. Bruce inhaled sharply in surprise, his eyes blown wide as they pulled apart.
“I want this. I want you. All of you.” The blue-eyed man held the other close, their breath intertwining.
“I want all of you.” Bruce responded in his darkest baritone, letting out a studdered breath. “I need all of you, Clark.”
They collided again, hands running through hair and lips parting in desperation. They both touched like they needed it to remind themselves that this was real–that this was really happening. Clark leaned back into the arm of the chouch, his hands refusing to leave the sides of Bruce’s face. He had to hold back, knowing his full strength would hurt him, but he still wanted more.
It could’ve been minutes or hours, they both really didn’t know. All they cared about was being in that moment, together. Clark’s head swam with sensations and adrenaline, trying to make the feeling last forever. They sighed, noses brushing as they melted into each other. They pulled away for a split second, breathing heavy, and lips red.
Clark could tell his glasses were fogged up, and he quickly removed them. The heavy-lidded Bruce peppered kisses all along his cheeks and nose.
“Aw, I really wanted to make out with this cute reporter I’ve gotten to know quite well.”
“I guess you’ll have to settle for Superman.”
Their lips met again, the fever fully returned. Bruce moved to the other’s strong jaw, savoring every taste. Hands travelled along his torso, grabbing his waist tentatively, like an unspoken question. Clark hummed, and hands began to lift up his shirt, skin meeting skin–
“Oh my fucking god, jesus christ–” A voice broke them out of their daze, their heads snapping to the door.
Jason stood in the doorway, hands covering his eyes dramatically.
“Ew. Oh fuck, I’m gonna be sick. What the hell, Bruce?! In the living room? We all sit on that couch!” He raised his hands in anger, and yet his eyes refused to look in their direction. “I am never looking you in the eyes ever again.” He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
They didn’t move from their position as Bruce grumbled and rested his head on Clark’s shoulder.
“I really can’t get a moment of privacy, even in this giant goddamn mansion.”
The sounds of Jason’s disgusted yelling echoed down the hall.
“We could always go to my place.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. Always have a back up, right?”