A/N: I have wanted to do a slashfic for a really long time (goodness knows enough of my other stuff is just this side of the line). Please R&R!

~Chapter One~

There were some things that Bruce avoided talking about. Like how bad the injuries he shrugged off actually were. Or how he hated having to be Bruce capital-W Wayne sometimes, like when he was at parties and the girls who thought biting him was cute kept trying to get him into a corner.

And then there were the things that he kept to himself, that he hoped to god not even Alfred suspected. Like the many, many times between the death of his parents and the first time he put on the cowl when he'd thought that a pistol might be the better way to go. Or the exact, dangerous details of some of the tighter missions he'd been on.

Or how sometimes he couldn't help but imagine Clark without a shirt on.

Because this was how the world worked:

Clark had Lois, a relationship that would always hover just below vows. Bruce would dally around with Selina or Diana (the closest thing to a girl Clark) or whatever the flavor of the month was, because he had never expected to have a marriageable life anyway. And then he got Clark as a friend, nothing more and nothing less. And that was how things were.

"Hey, I've got to talk to you." Clark grabbed him before he left the meeting. They were the last ones in the conference room. Clark leaned against the table, always at ease, like he practiced it, for godssakes. Bruce just stood by the door and waited for him to continue.

"Well?" he asked, finally, because Clark obviously wanted it.

An effortless smile. "What would you think of me asking Lois to marry me?"

He was lucky that he had an former actor for a father figure and years of carefully cultivated facial expressions, because it let him had a solid few seconds of blankness instead of surprise. He was also very, very lucky that Clark was probably too excited to be watching his vitals. All he could manage to say was, "When did you decide to get engaged?"

Clark shrugged, and Bruce tried not to see that he looked just a bit hurt at Bruce's lack of enthusiasm. "I haven't bought a ring or anything. Or thought about how I'm going to do it. But we've been dating for a long time, and it's pretty serious. And its not like I want to date for the rest of my life."

He tried to let the rational part of his brain take over. There was no ring. There was nothing set in stone yet. He realized that Clark was still giving him that hopeful, expectant look. Bruce couldn't fake a smile, not when he wasn't being Wayne, but he could at least push himself into a semi-decent friend mode. Head tilt. Uncross your arms. Open body language. "Of course! It's sounds great, Clark. Though you want to plan it perfectly…"

Clark nodded, expression brightening again like an eager puppy. Bruce swallowed, and silently begged him not to ask when he knew was inevitable. "So…um…you want to help me out with this? You are my slightly cranky best friend after all—" Clark tossed him a smile at that. "—I think it's your traditional duty to help me get successfully married. And you dated her. I will be taking full advantage of your expertise."

Deep breath. He was so tempted to say no, that he was far too busy to help Clark woo his girlfriend. But how could he deny that smile? And had he honestly thought that choir-boy Clark was going to be content with a girlfriend forever? That the easy way of still having the possibility be there, even if he knew it would never happen, would last? "Yeah. Of course."

"Awesome." Clark touched his shoulder, and Bruce made himself not freeze up. "Also—Lois wants to have everybody over for pizza and cards next Tuesday. You in?"

"Sure," he said, again, and hoped he didn't sound brain-dead. He and Clark walked out together.

****#****

Tuesday night. He'd managed to avoid Clark for four days, on the premise of being wrapped up in a serial killer case. But he'd made a commitment, and so there he was at Clark's apartment with a bottle of wine (more expensive than anything Clark could afford, and chose by Alfred) and flowers for the damnable Lois. From the voices inside he could tell that he was the last one to show.

Lois and Diana threw open the door at his knock. Diana relieved him of the wine and Lois took the flowers. They'd become fast friends after the formation of the Justice League. He didn't really know if he liked two of his ex-girlfriends hanging around together. Lois reached out to take his coat. "Clark thought you weren't coming. Fashionably late, huh?"

"Sorry."

In truth he hadn't known if he was going to come. He'd dallied well into the evening at Wayne Enterprises—filling out paperwork his secretary could've done, bugging Lucius about stupid R&D projects, and generally wasting as much time as possible.

Until finally he was sitting at his desk and it hit him: After Clark got married, there would be no more long nights working on Javelin blueprints together, no more of Clark coming down to the Cave to drag him into the sunlight for coffee or ice cream. If it wasn't going to stay, he had to take what he could get before it ended.

Bruce followed Lois into the kitchen. Diana and Shayera were there, too. Everyone else was in the living room, playing a sloppy game of blackjack. Lois had cartons of ice cream and toppings on the counter, and she shoved a spoon at him. "Here. The pizza's late and so were you, so you get to help me serve up ice cream."

He took the spoon without complaint and dished out chocolate for Diana and John and himself. Lois served strawberry and vanilla-strawberry for Shayera and Wally, and then she went on to vanilla.

"Clark likes strawberry," Bruce said, absentmindedly, and heard Lois pause to reopen the carton.

"He didn't tell me." She scooped out a third pink bowl.

But a dangerous idea was building in his head. His hand lingered over the last bowl of ice cream.

I know him better than you do.

He took a good look at Lois. Short hair, strong hands from always typing, and a scrape on her wrist from her penchant to get herself into trouble. She wasn't one of those girls who would break if their boyfriend decided it wasn't working out. Say he had three months between now and Clark buying a ring. Three month was plenty of time to make Clark realize that it was Bruce he loved.

Lois gave him an odd glance and he just smiled back at her. Game on.