This is a sequel to the previous chapter "Something that will light your ears", but it can be read on its own. And there's also a special guest here ;)

Title: Give All My Secrets Away.

Summary: Tony finally knows Superman's secret identity. Clark is less than thrilled by the news. Bruce just wants some more coffee, and perhaps other friends too.

Warnings: None.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Dark Knight Trilogy, Iron Man, Superman, or any of its characters. Sadly.

OoOoO

Bruce reached for the mug of warm coffee placed on the kitchen table from behind the day's edition of the Gotham Times. He brought it slowly to his lips, eyes never leaving the article he was reading.

By all rights, the Midwest accent and good-natured chatter to his right should be as annoying and distracting as it had been in the beginning-especially in this early hour-but it wasn't. At least not anymore.

Clark and he didn't have breakfast together often; it only happened on the rare occasions when he had to be up before 10 A.M. for some meeting at Wayne Enterprises, and so Clark could stop by the Manor before going to work. Bruce would like to say he didn't know how it started, but that would be a lie.

There was only one person capable of interfering with his life like that, and force him to go through with something he disliked to the point where he would eventually agree to do it willingly.

Clark knew he would be getting only a fraction of his attention at least until he finished his first cup of coffee of the day, but that didn't seem to deter the reporter from talking non-stop about the Daily Planet, his parents, Lex Luthor's latest schemes, and everything in between.

From an objective point of view, Bruce could understand it. Clark didn't have many people he could talk to without having to hold back a part of himself at all times. So, of course, he leaped at the chance to speak freely in a secure space, even if the person he was talking to wasn't paying attention to anything he said- which he was, by the way. Clark was currently in the middle of relating the newest chapter of Martha Kent's long-time feud with one of her neighbors. Over Pie. Because it was Kansas.

Clark had been so caught up in his story that he didn't notice there was someone else in the Manor until even Bruce was able to hear the footsteps drawing near the kitchen.

Even in his still slightly drowsy state, Bruce could appreciate the humor of the situation. Because with his powers, Clark could have been gone in the blink of an eye. If he hadn't just frozen on the spot, that is.

Tony Stark entered the kitchen with dragging feet, hair tousled and dark circles under his eyes. He was wearing a pair of sweats too big for him and a gray t-shirt.

He was currently hiding in Gotham after a fall out with SHIELD, or more specifically, with Nick Fury. And Bruce was using the term hiding very loosely here since of course they knew where he was. They just couldn't do anything as long as Tony was ignoring every call. There was no JARVIS to breach, and they couldn't involve a 'civilian' in this mess by breaking into his home to get to Tony, let alone a wealthy and influential civilian on that.

Bruce was well aware of the fact this was just a temporary situation, of course. Sooner rather than later, Tony would be going back to Malibu, and to SHIELD and the Avengers, like he always did. Bruce was still unsure on whether that was a good or a bad thing. Tony had always been a drama queen, after all, but Bruce couldn't say he trusted SHIELD or anyone involved in it.

Without acknowledging Clark-Bruce was almost sure Tony hadn't even noticed him-the other billionaire moved straight to where Bruce was sitting and wordlessly reached for Bruce's mug, draining the last of his coffee in one gulp.

He was overly aware of Clark's perplex stare aimed their way.

"Your butler kicked me out," Tony complained. He left the mug back on the table and reached for a piece of toast from Bruce's plate instead.

Ah. So that was where Alfred had disappeared to. He should have guessed. Tony had stayed awake all night working down in the cave, so of course Alfred had a thing or two to say about that.

He couldn't say he was happy about that habit either, but since he knew berating Tony for working too much would make him a hypocrite, he always tried to cut Tony some slack. At least to a certain extent. Luckily, he could always count on Alfred to take care of that before he had to intervene. And no matter how much Tony whined or sassed, he always ended listening to Alfred.

"Yes. He does that sometimes," Bruce replied dryly.

"I'm going to bed," Tony said around a mouthful of toast. "Make sure I don't sleep too long, m'kay?"

"I'll tell Alfred to take care of that."

"I hate you," Tony grumbled, turning to leave the kitchen and finally noticing the other man in there. He blinked almost comically, chewing the toast in his mouth before swallowing.

"Huh. Guess there are no kitties to rescue from trees this morning," Tony mused distractedly. "See you around."

Tony left the kitchen without a backward glance, unaware of the wide-eyed, open-mouthed Clark Kent he left looking after him. Holding back a snort, Bruce had to hide a smirk behind the Gotham Times as he watched him.

"He knows who I am," Clark said after a moment of silence, his tone blank.

Bruce merely hummed in reply around a mouthful of toast. The reporter said nothing else, but Bruce could feel his eyes on him. After a moment of tense silence, Bruce lowered his paper and folded it neatly on the table. He looked up at Clark with a dark eyebrow arched.

"Stark knows who I am." He repeated.

"Yes," Bruce said slowly, head tilted to the side.

"How?"

"I've told you before a couple of glasses and a hunch aren't a very good disguise," He pointed out with a wave of his hand.

Clark looked down at the half-empty plate of food in front of him. Hands clenched into fists over the table, he looked back up at him, expression solemn. "Did you tell him?"

Bruce narrowed his eyes. Clark really couldn't be asking him that. "Of course not." He snapped. "He asked me plenty of times, but I would never say anything. It wasn't my secret to tell."

The relief that crossed Clark's face was short-lived as confusion returned once again, making him furrow his brow deeper. "Then how did he find out?"

Taking pity of the kryptonian's honest puzzlement and almost desperate gaze, Bruce let out a sigh before admitting, "It was your hands."

Clark blinked. "My hands."

"Yes. You remember that charity ball in New York last year? Tony was there too."

"Of course I remember," Clark confirmed with a frown. "He walked up to me and asked about my secret identity in front of several people. Did he-?"

Bruce winced a little at the reminder. Superman had been the guest of honor there so, of course, Tony hadn't lost the opportunity to approach him and act like a smart-ass.

"No. He didn't know it then, but you shook hands with him and he noticed your hands. They're strange for many reasons. Too smooth. Too warm," Bruce shrugged his shoulders. "It wouldn't have been a big deal anyway, but he encountered Clark Kent only a few days after that. You two shook hands then, too. From there, it wasn't too hard to piece it together."

Clark opened his mouth to talk, but closed it again without saying anything. He simply looked back at him helplessly.

"I don't know," He said, answering the unspoken question. "I have no idea how Tony Stark's brain works, and I very much would like to keep it that way." He finished dryly.

Clark didn't react. He simply lowered his eyes, worry and angst etched into his features. Bruce had to admit the kryptonian was taking this a lot better than he would have if the roles were reversed. A lot less anger and growling, definitely. But that didn't mean he was taking it well.

His expression made Bruce tamp down the urge to apologize.

This wasn't actually his fault, he knew that. He hadn't told Tony Clark's identity, and while part of Tony's interest in Superman was based on his connection with Batman, the 'powerful, flying alien' thing would have been more than enough to draw his attention anyway.

So, while he couldn't have stopped Tony from figuring it out, he could have prevented this whole episode by simply telling Clark Tony was here. Which he would have done if he hadn't had all of three hours of sleep after chasing down Zsasz all night after he was sighted in the Narrows. Or if he had the chance to at least finish his coffee.

Bruce sighed, looking down at his empty coffee mug longingly. He didn't have enough coffee in his system to deal with this. "I know the situation is far from ideal, but it could be worse."

"Really? We're talking about the man that stood before a room full of reporters and told the world he was Iron Man! And he knows who I am!"

"Yes," Bruce agreed, letting a hint of annoyance slip into his voice. "But we're also talking about the man who has known who I am for years and hasn't said anything."

"That's different," Clark countered. "You're his friend. He likes you."

"And who says he doesn't like you?"

"Are you serious?"

Bruce leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand across his forehead. "Look, you have every right to be worried about this. Angry even,"

Clark was shaking his head even before Bruce finished speaking. "I'm not angry. I just- I wish he hadn't found out about this."

"Tony is ..." Bruce trailed off. He didn't miss the small smile that crossed Clark's face. "I know his attitude makes it impossible to consider him trustworthy, but I know him, and I know there's more to him than what he lets everyone see."

Clark's expression was less troubled but still doubtful, so Bruce added more, "I promise you he would never use this information against you, nor would he do anything with it that could endanger you or the people close to you. I trust him," He added after a pause.

The kryptonian met Bruce's eyes straight on. After a wordless moment, he nodded. He still seemed unhappy about the development, but willing to take Bruce's word. The billionaire relaxed his posture almost imperceptibly and reached for the coffee pot.

"You may even be spare the jokes and teasing for a while longer yet," Bruce said in a strange attempt to fill the silence that settled between them.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he was more asleep than awake right now, so he probably wouldn't remember this."

Clark blinked. "You do realize that's not particularly reassuring, right?" He pointed out, pushing his glassed up his nose.

The corner of Bruce's lips twitched upward. "Don't worry. Tony only lets his guard down like that in places where he feels safe, like his workshop or here in the Manor.

"Or, you know, I could mention this once he wakes up. That way you two can meet up to discuss it." Bruce commented after taking a long sip of his coffee, mug cradled between his hands.

"I'll rather you didn't," Clark replied hastily, a slightly alarmed look on his face.

Bruce shrugged, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.

Slowly, they turned back to their now lukewarm breakfasts, but Bruce didn't reach again for his discarded newspaper.

"Well?"

Clark looked up from his plate, swallowing before speaking, "Well what?"

"You were telling me about your mother's discussion with Mrs Hayes." Bruce's expression and tone were sober as if he hadn't just asked about a minor conflict in a small town in Kansas that truly didn't concern him.

The words made Clark's face lit up with a slow bright smile, just like Bruce had known they would. Turning the attention back to his mother and the farm was the last push needed to fully dissipate the tense air in the kitchen, but Bruce could admit he was also curious about the outcome of the story too.

OoOoO

a/n: Welp, that's it. I don't know what else to say, so I hope you enjoyed it. Also, this was my first time writing Clark, so any feedback would be great since I have plans to write more of him in the future.

This is unbetaed and I'm not a native speaker, so please feel free to point out any mistakes.

The title was taken from the song "Secrets" by OneRepublic.