Sometimes Boring is All You Need
A/N: This is for UndeservingHero. Thank you for your help getting me through my shit a few weeks ago. You truly are a wonderful friend. (Totally check out his Tumblr under the username Vaticansaint, too. He's an amazing artist ;) )
UndeservingHero, I'm also sorry this took so long for me to produce. I was going to write something angsty, but then I kind of blanked on what I wanted to write about. Then this popped into my head. So, more fluff than angst.
I hope you like it!
Enjoy!
Clark knocks on the bedroom door and enters when he receives an affirmation. Bruce is standing in front of a full-length mirror, dressed in a black tux and straightening out a bow-tie. Ice blue eyes are watching him through the mirror as Clark steps in and closes the door behind himself.
Clark clears his throat, one hand in front of his mouth, taking in the picture of how handsome Bruce is. "Alfred let me in. I hope that's okay."
"Of course, it is." Bruce glides his hands down the front of the tux, smoothing out any wrinkles that could be there. "What are you doing here?"
"Cat, she," Clark swallows, "she has the night off so I'm filling in for her society piece."
Bruce hums, turning around and playing with the cuffs of his sleeves. "Big time investigative reporter going to write a puff piece."
Clark smiles at him. "It's not the first time and I promise to write nothing but good things about you."
"You might as well stick some kind of scandalous part in it," Bruce says, approaching Clark as his eyes travel the length of Clark's body. "The readers will eat it up. Your tie is crooked, let me fix it."
Bruce's hands come up to Clark's neck and begin fiddling with his cheap tie, straightening it out. Clark had tied it skewed on purpose to make himself look more like the Clark Kent image he tries to put on but says nothing, swallowing again as Bruce's fingers brush against his neck. Bruce's eyes are down, watching the tie with a relaxed face.
When Bruce is done, indicated by the tightening of the tie, the man's fingers slide down the faux silk but doesn't leave it. "Can I ask you something?"
Clark chuckles awkwardly, watching Bruce who isn't meeting his eyes and is instead focusing on deft fingers playing with Clark's tie. "Since when do you ask permission to ask a question? You usually just ask." When Clark doesn't get a response back, he continues. "Of course, you can. You can ask me anything, Bruce."
Bruce hesitates which causes Clark to scrunch his eyebrows in confusion. Bruce never hesitates. Bruce's tongue darts out, wetting lips, and then begins speaking, the undertone of nerves coloring the man's words. "When are you going to ask me out?"
Clark is shocked into silence and it must be too long for Bruce because Bruce lets go, allowing the tie to fall back to Clark's chest. Bruce walks away and back to the mirror, facing it, and fiddling with the tuxedo jacket. It's a rare sight, seeing Bruce fidget nervously as a way to cope with matters at hand. The man is normally carefully controlled with what his body is doing, always putting on an act, whether it be as Batman or Bruce Wayne. He's hardly ever relaxed enough to let himself go like this, show his vulnerable side.
"I…" Clark begins but stops, Bruce's hands halting in their picking at the fabric that doesn't have a single speck of fuzz on it. Clark takes a breath, collecting himself. "I didn't think you would…" Again, he trails off and Bruce's hands start up again. With another deep breath and small shake of his head, Clark takes a step and asks, "Will you go out to dinner with me?"
Bruce's hands have stopped again and those blue eyes are peering at Clark through the mirror once more. Bruce doesn't answer right away, instead studying Clark and then turning around, walking up to him. Bruce places a hand on Clark's chest, where the tie lies on it. The man gives Clark a single pet and then walks by, saying, "Tell me when and I'll be there."
Clark twists around, watching as Bruce exits the room, the door shutting behind him. Clark can feel his heart pounding in his chest but also another feeling there that is akin to joy. That night, when he returns to his apartment after the charity event, he goes online and researches the best places to go in Gotham for a date. He scrolls through pages and pages of recommendations but in the end, decides to take Bruce to a place in Metropolis. It's safer that way.
It's only a few days later that they are sat in the restaurant of Clark's choosing, the place being so expensive that they don't even list the prices on the menu. But to Clark, it's bound to be worth the expense. That is, if Bruce actually looked like he was enjoying himself.
The man is sitting across from Clark, face relaxed and chin resting on the palm of his hand, staring out the window as he watches all the people who walk by. Clark wonders if Bruce is amazed that people in Metropolis can walk in the dark without fear of being robbed or worse. Even when the man looks bored, he is beautiful, the soft glow of the restaurant's lights highlighting all the best features of Bruce's face while simultaneously hiding all the tired wrinkles. Clark can see them, even in the dark, but it doesn't detract from the man. It only makes him that much more exquisite.
Clark talks to him awkwardly, trying to keep the mood of the date up but as the time goes by, Bruce looks more and more bored. When the waiter asks if they want any desert, Bruce declines and Clark's heart sinks into his stomach. He doesn't meet Bruce's eyes as he snatches up the receipt before Bruce can, and pulls out his wallet, setting down his credit card. When the food is all paid for and a hefty tip is left, they both get up and leave the building, the air warm and refreshing from the suffocating nature of their booth they sat in.
"Would you," Clark starts, his last desperate attempt at saving this date. "Would you like to take a walk with me? The beach is actually just over there and we can walk on the pier."
Bruce gazes over in the direction in which Clark had pointed and then looks up at the moon, most likely gauging what time it is without trying to be rude by looking at the fancy watch on his wrist. Bruce probably wants to go home, go out as Batman soon. Clark's heart aches.
"I would love to." Clark's eyes dart up to meet Bruce's, not having expected that answer.
"Okay," he says, a little bit of hope returning. It is soon gone again, however, when they reach the pier in silence and continue their walk along the fence that is blocking off the beach without a word.
Bruce is walking by his side, close but not close enough to accidentally bump into each other. With one more attempt to salvage this whole night, Clark slowly reaches out and touches Bruce's hand, trying to hold onto it. Bruce immediately pulls away, hand going to clasp the other. Clark internally sighs and feels his heart break.
They soon come across a vendor selling ice cream and Bruce places a hand on Clark's shoulder, stopping him. "I'll buy us some."
"I don't-" Clark tries but Bruce is already walking away and telling the vendor their order. Clark sighs heavily and leans onto the fence, facing away from Bruce and out into the water. He feels terrible, wanting to have had this date go well.
"Here." Bruce steps up beside Clark and hands over an ice cream cone with chocolate ice cream on top, Clark's favorite. Bruce then leans down onto the rail as well, beginning to eat his own mint chocolate chip ice cream that is in a bowl. Clark knows it's Bruce's favorite flavor of ice cream, that when Bruce was a kid, it used to be strawberry but he doesn't eat that anymore. Clark also knows Bruce never gets ice cream in a cone, it reminding the man of his childhood too much. Clark knows a lot of little details of Bruce, things the man has never told another soul besides Clark.
And Clark loves him tremendously but he knows better than to think that saying those three words to Bruce would be the one thing to save this date. A lump forms in Clark's throat and the ice cream Clark hasn't even begun eating is starting to melt all over his hand as Clark stares down over the fence and at the sand. He can feel Bruce's eyes on him.
"Are you okay?" Bruce questions.
Clark forces a swallow around the lump and nods. "I'm fine."
Bruce isn't eating anymore either and the sudden feeling that Clark has now ruined the date even more washes over him. "What's wrong?"
Clark shakes his head, still not looking at Bruce. "Nothing, I'm just… thinking we should probably call it a night." Clark raises his head and looks over at Bruce who is furrowing his eyebrows.
Despite the confusion, Bruce still says, "Okay." They begin walking towards an alley that looks dark enough that Clark can change into Superman and fly Bruce home, Clark throwing his ice cream away. This doesn't go unnoticed by Bruce and Bruce eyes him as he does so, but says nothing.
It doesn't take long for Clark to get back to the Manor, landing on the front steps and setting Bruce down. Bruce's hands remain on Clark's shoulders, Clark feeling every twitch they make. Then, Bruce leans forward and kisses Clark on the cheek, pulling back and avoiding eye contact. "I had a good time tonight, Clark."
Clark nods, not feeling confident at all and wishing Bruce wouldn't lie to him. "I did too," he says, lying as well. Bruce gives him a small smile and then turns away, walking back into the Manor. Clark flies up into the sky and waits until he spots Batman leaving the cave. Then and only then does Clark fly back to his apartment with a heavy heart.
A week later, Clark goes to Gotham to find Bruce. Today is a special day for the man but isn't a happy one. It's the third anniversary since Jason's death and Clark never likes leaving Bruce alone on these nights. He searches all along the dark rooftops of Gotham, keeping his eyes and ears peeled for Batman. He eventually finds the Bat, sitting on the ledge of one of the higher buildings, legs dangling over the edge, and back hunched in emotional exhaustion.
Clark lands just behind Bruce softly. "May I sit?" he asks and Bruce gestures to the spot next to him. "It's weird not seeing you crouching like a gargoyle."
"I'm resting," Bruce says, hands on his lap.
"Still," Clark adds but says nothing more, sitting down beside the man.
They sit there in silence, enjoying each other's quiet company, for a long time before any of them break it. "I think for our second date we should go to the Gotham museum."
Clark stares at Bruce in shock, having thought Bruce wouldn't want to go on another date with him again, not after how the first one turned out. "But doesn't that sound… boring to you?"
"You don't want to go?" Bruce asks.
"No!" Clark says quickly, jumping at the opportunity to have a second chance of having a date that Bruce actually enjoys. "I do want to go with you, of course, I just thought…" he trails off and Bruce is looking at him now.
"What?" Bruce prompts.
Clark huffs in defeat, gazing down at his lap. "Our first date was terrible."
"Why would you think that?" Bruce inquires.
Clark shrugs, feeling the hopelessness of that night once again. "You looked completely bored."
"That's because I was," Bruce tells him and Clark fails to see how that is supposed to convince him that Bruce wants to continue dating him.
Clark shakes his head. "Then why?" When Bruce doesn't say anything, Clark elaborates. "Why do you want to go out with me again?"
Suddenly, something unexpected happens. Bruce starts chuckling and Clark stares at him in hurt confusion. When Bruce stops laughing, his body relaxes and he leans a little closer to Clark. "My life is exciting enough as it is. Boring is what I want." Clark gapes at him and when Bruce reaches a gloved hand out, palm up, Clark's eyes dart down to it. "As long as it's with you." Clark hesitates and Bruce shrugs. "My hand was sweaty last time."
Clark sighs a breath of relief, a breath he hadn't even noticed he was holding, bowing his head and huffing a small laugh. "I thought our first date was a disaster. I thought I bored you."
"I wasn't lying when I said I had a good time, Clark," Bruce informs him, hand still out. "Were you?"
"No, I was just… disappointed." Clark eyes the hand again, small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. "I thought you wouldn't want to go out with me again."
"Never." Bruce is smiling, a real, genuine smile, and it makes Clark smile in return. "I feel happy just spending time with you."
Clark's smile is big and full of love, his chest filling with warmth towards the man who is sitting beside him. He takes Bruce's hand gingerly and links their fingers together. "Me too."
A/N: Hope you enjoyed, especially you UnderservingHero! Thanks for reading!