Hello everyone! Thank you so much for being patient with me, I am so sorry for my lack of updates. I was in a really stressed-out headspace for a really long time and I lost the will and ability to get on my computer in my free time. I lost my interest in creating content, and I think, in reality, it contributed to making me feel worse. But never fear, I have finally decided to get back into doing what I love, and that is creating stories for you guys. And by the way please be gentle about how bad this chapter probably is, I started this so long ago and I really didn't know where I was going with it, I just wanted to make a sappy first date. So without further ado, and I don't own any of the rights to this, please enjoy the long-awaited chapter of Twisted.

A half-hour and a really long phone call to Dick later, Bruce and Clark sat at a diner, exchanging jokes and stories. Of course on Clark's part, all of the stories were completely made up or at least slightly fibbed so Bruce doesn't catch onto who he was. Yes, he was lying, but was it so bad when his home life was a wreck and all anyone saw in him was his money? With Bruce, he could at least just be Clark, not Clark Kent. "Wait so you really stole a car when you were 8?" Bruce asks as he cackles loudly.

Clark chuckles, "yeah, I got sick of my parents nagging on me and I jumped into the Fer-…family car. I drove it 23 blocks at 80 miles per hour before I launched it over a station wagon. My parents were pissed because they had to pay everyone to keep me out of juvie or doing community service."

Bruce finally calms down and quirks an eyebrow. "How much money would that have been? Your parents must have cleaned out their bank accounts."

Clark just shrugs in response, "I don't know. As I said, I was 8. I'm sure it took a huge chunk out of my college fund but they haven't mentioned it since."

Bruce watches him before ducking his head and finishing off his food. "You don't like opening up do you?"

Clark arches an eyebrow, "what makes you say that?"

Bruce sits back and raises his head to reveal that his gaze was no longer light, but hard and closed off. "You're lying to me."

Clark balks, "excuse me?"

"The way you cut off your sentences, you're not telling me specific details, leaving out specific names, averting your gaze every time you tell me you can't remember. You're lying to me, not about everything, but you're hiding something from me."

Clark scratches the back of his neck, growing very uncomfortable. "What are you, the world's greatest detective?"

Bruce shrugs, "after being around people that do nothing but lie to you, you pick up on how they do it. Now, are you going to tell me why you aren't telling me the truth, or are we just going to end this right here, right now?"

Clark's eyes darted back and forth, trying to think of something to say to keep from scaring Bruce away. He smiles and meets his eyes, "do you wanna go dancing?"

They pull up to the building and Bruce crosses his arms, "ok, so why are we here?"

Clark smiles at him before getting out of the car, "you're here so I can show you a part of my past that I can't lie about."

Bruce scans the old building, most of the windows are broken and it's completely dark. "Are you bringing me here to show me where you've dumped bodies?"

Clark laughs as he walks around to the side of Bruce's truck and opens the door. "No, I'm showing you where I've spent a lot of my teenage years. You wanna see it?"

Bruce sighs and takes Clark's extended hand to help him out of the car. As they approach, Bruce starts to fidget his free hand. If Clark makes a move or tries to kill him, he'd have to protect himself, and he didn't want to hurt Clark after things had already been going so well. Well…if it didn't count Clark lying to him about a lot of things, and making him get into a situation where he had to defend himself…he really needed to get out of his own head.

Clark leads them through the gaps of the frame where the door used to be and helps Bruce navigate the uneven ground of the broken concrete. They're in the middle of a huge warehouse, containing probably seven levels of rooms, but all open to a space that expands from the first-floor foyer all the way up to the broken glass roof. "Why did you bring me here?" Bruce asks as he takes in everything.

Clark lets go of his hand to allow the other man to wander. "The first time I was brought here was by a 17-year-old when I was 14. I knew him from boarding school, and he had connections to the party circuit. He had heard about a rave that was being hosted here and knew I had money, so he invited me. I had the best time of my life at that party, had my first kiss with some senior girl drunk off of whatever she was shotgunning at the time and high off of whatever her boyfriend had given her. I was out until the sun came up, and my parents were so pissed I thought they'd kick me out because as soon as I walked in they showed me a tabloid with me on the front cover. My dad is some big shot CEO, and he thought I would tarnish our family name. This was one of the first times in my life that it appeared that they cared about what I did…so after that, I partied as if my life depended on it." Clark traced a pattern in the dirt with his previously spotless shoe, as Bruce watched him thoughtfully.

"So this was your party spot?" Bruce asked carefully as he searched for empty beer bottles and solo cups, but found none.

"No," Clark shook his head, "the rich kid raves are never held at the same place twice, to avoid tabloid fame like I got that day. The only reason that the older kid invited me was to embarrass me in front of the whole school. The only thing it did was make me popular among my peers because I got invited to a party and the picture was me making out with that wasted senior girl. After that first party, I still went out and partied, but I'd come here the morning after to sleep it off and not wake up with a hangover to my mother screaming my ear off about what a terrible son I am." Clark looked over and looked Bruce in the eye at that point. "I came here to get away from everything, my responsibilities, my family, my fake friends, everything. In fact, it was here that I discovered that I was gay as if that kiss with Lois hadn't helped me figure it out on my own."

Bruce stands quiet for a few minutes, trying to process everything Clark had just admitted in such a short period of time. He knew Clark had money, it was obvious in the way his hand had been perfectly smooth when he held it, except for the callouses he probably got from holding a pen all day. It was also too easy to tell from the way he carried himself, he seemed to be someone who had had access to everything in his life but was still haunted by it. Bruce couldn't understand Clark's struggles with money, seeing as he barely made enough on the farm for himself, but the shocking realization that he would like to know more about Clark hit Bruce like a tire iron to the stomach. Bruce walked over and linked his hand with Clark's, giving him a lopsided smirk, "well good for me that you figured it out."

Not expecting that answer, Clark barks out a laugh that turns into the most attractive chuckle Bruce had ever heard. "I'm sorry, I just didn't expect that after I practically used you as a therapist on a first date."

The other man's heart did a flip at the mention of this being a date, "well I don't know about you, but it's a little late in the evening to unpack all forms of parental and money-related trauma. Besides, you promised you would take me dancing."

Clark smiles brilliantly at him, "I'm keeping my promise, as long as you wait here."

Clark disengages his hands from Bruce and walks back to the car, bringing a wheeled speaker back with him. "Sometimes, when my friends want an inopportune party at one of their places, this comes in handy," Clark remarks as he pairs it with his phone. "It apparently also comes in handy, when I want to woo my date with my dancing." A slow song starts up that Bruce doesn't recognize, and Clark approaches him as if he was a wild animal, looking like he was expecting Bruce to bolt.

Bruce's patience lost the battle and instead, he crossed the remaining distance and took Clark's hand in his. "It'll take a lot more than a wheeled speaker to 'woo' me, Clark." Bruce remarks with a smirk as Clark leads him into a waltz.

"Oh trust me, I expected as much." Clark sends him a flirtatious wink as he whips Bruce out into a spin.

After only a moment, and accompanied with a feeling of slight bewilderment, Bruce found himself tucked snugly into Clark's chest as they swayed to the music. He had to admit, he was a little impressed as Clark brought him back around to face him, and they slowly circled their makeshift dance floor, never breaking eye contact. Bruce had to admit, he had never had such an intimate moment with someone, and never expected it could hold for this amount of time. He had just met Clark for God's sake, how the hell did he find himself in the middle of nowhere staring into the eyes of a man that had just poured out his whole life story. He should've run for the hills the moment they pulled in front of this warehouse, but now he never wants to leave. This feeling shouldn't exist, but try as he might he couldn't get rid of it, or even give it a name. But before Bruce could delve any deeper into the thoughts of his feelings, Clark surprises him by lifting him off the ground! Bruce can't help himself and lets out a sound that he found once again, he couldn't name.

From the sound of his deep-chested chuckle, Clark found this sound to be extremely amusing as he cradled Bruce in his arms, swinging him slowly in circles as the song ended. Even when the final note has long since faded, Bruce clung to Clark's neck. Clark seemed to find that amusing as well. "You know, I can put you down if you want."

Bruce huffs, hoping to hide that he secretly liked the knowledge that Clark was strong enough to hold him for this long. "Well, your iron grip seems to be telling me otherwise."

Just for that, Clark tightens his hold. "I can't help that I don't want to let you go. If you held something as precious as I am now, you would want to hold onto it for the rest of your life too."

Bruce looks away, hoping to hide the tomato-red blush creeping up his neck. "I'm not precious."

"That little squeak you let out when I lifted you would say otherwise," Clark remarks with an obvious smirk in his voice.

With that comment, Bruce begins to wiggle to try and get down. "Let me down, you brute."

Clark chuckles again, so low that it vibrates into Bruce's shoulder where it's pressed against Clark's. He leans down slightly and releases his hold on Bruce's legs, allowing the other man to stand up, but instead of allowing him space to escape tightens his arm around Bruce's back so they're standing chest to chest. There was barely an inch between them, and Bruce could feel Clark's breath ghosting over his lips. It was obvious Clark could feel it too because his breath hitched a little as Bruce brought his hands up to rest on Clark's chest instead of allowing them to awkwardly hang at his sides. "You know we should uh…probably go?" Bruce whispers, the statement ending in more of a question than he would've liked.

Clark slowly nods his head, "yeah, we probably should." His voice was just as soft as Bruce's, and it sent shivers down Bruce's spine.

The two stay connected like that for a few moments, before Clark slowly starts to lean in, allowing his eyes to drift shut. He knew it was probably a bad idea, he had just met Bruce after all, but the pull he felt towards this man was unlike anything he had ever felt before. He had almost hooked up with hundreds of girls, been in this exact same position with probably the same number, but he had never wanted to close this gap more with anyone than with Bruce right now.

Clark felt his mouth make contact, but his eyes flew open when his lips didn't make contact with Bruce's. Instead, he saw Bruce's face turned to the side, a smirk on his lips. "You really think even after I told you it would be hard to win me over, that I'd let you kiss me?"

Clark reared his head back but refused to allow Bruce a chance to escape. He cleared his throat in embarrassment, "uh…I would like to plead the 5th to protect my pride and to hopefully convince you I'm not always this stupid."

Bruce chuckled, not mad at all. He reached up and pressed a light kiss to Clark's cheek. "I'll allow it. And tonight was fun, but we really should get going."

For the first time in over half an hour, Clark drops his arm and allows Bruce the chance to take a step back. "You're right."

"I know." Bruce begins walking back to the car, but slow enough to allow Clark the chance to grab the speaker and catch up to him. As they walk, Bruce grabs Clark's hand and laces their fingers together, giving Clark one of the most beautiful smiles he had ever seen in his life.

Clark couldn't help but think, I am so screwed.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, like I said, I really just wanted to give you guys an update and had absolutely no idea what I was doing. I'll try and get this story to progress a little faster to get to the good parts, and I'll try and post more so I don't keep you guys waiting. As always, if you hated it I invited constructive criticism, and if you loved it the best part of doing this is hearing your reactions. So please leave a review or favorite this story if you want, and I'll see you all in my next update. :)