It wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this -not when the day has just begun.
Any other rescue and Superman would file it away with the last few hundred. It could make a good title for Clark to write about. "Gotham's Prince saved by Superman" has a catch to it, certainly.
Instead, Clark can only think of the headline, "Bruce Wayne caught cheating with Metropolis' Big Blue".
The phantom feeling of Bruce's lips on his eats away at his remaining appetite -pun unintended. The way his boyfriend so easily pushed for the contact, as if it didn't bother him at all. As if he didn't even remember Clark Kent in that moment, his loyal partner.
Worse, Clark was going to tell him. He had the whole thing scripted out and set up in a private date at the Wayne manor. They'd eat Alfred's delicious cooking, sit together through one of Bruce's favorite movies, then he's get serious and reveal the suit under his clothes.
Now, Clark scrambles for an excuse to avoid that very date.
The date Bruce hasn't called off, Clark makes note. What, did he expect Clark to walk into that gothic manor, exchange pleasant conversation and possibly make love to him unaware? He's a reporter, and one focused on Superman's impact on his own damn city! In what world would he miss this little "slip up"! How dare Bruce-
Clark stops when his glasses start smoking. He sucks in a breath, then blows out hard enough to freeze his bathroom mirror.
He hasn't shed tears just yet, but it's only a manner of time. Some strange part of him wants to hear Bruce's excuses. He wants to hear from his boyfriend why exactly he though he could kiss Superman like that. Public or not, Bruce should know better.
Has this happened before? The question hits Clark like a kryptonite-powered punch. It leaves him breathless.
He knew Bruce's reputation before starting the relationship. He knew, Rao, he knew! Why is he so surprised that a playboy floozy would cheat? Even one as kind and genuine as Bruce?
Even when Bruce has shared such gentle things with him and only him?
But maybe that's all part of the game. Make Clark feel like he's special, like this means something, then move on when things get boring.
Clark sighs again, an overwhelming exhaustion spreading across his shoulders until he's leaning his forehead against the mirror.
He liked Bruce. He really did.
A buzz barely pulls Clark's attention to his phone. He left Bruce's last message on read.
Bruce3: Are we still good for tonight?
Clark wants to curl up and die. He wishes the sun would consume him whole. Or that he never made it off of Krypton. Maybe if he died with his birth parents-
No, he can't go down that path. It won't go anywhere.
He can't avoid this forever. If not tonight, then Clark will have to face it another time. They'll go through the whole date planning process again and right now, as painful as this is, Clark would rather get it over with. Cut the cord and move on as best he can.
The urge to send an angry message and end it there is tempting, but this is a conversation best done in person. So, as much as it aches to fake enthusiasm, Clark sends a quick reply and refuses to look at his phone again.
C: Can't wait.
Not for the first time, Clark wishes he could get drunk.
Well, not drunk. Tipsy, maybe. Something to kill the nerves currently making him sweat through his suit shirt. He's packed tissues into his armpits and follows Bruce through the manor stiffly, but he still feels droplets roll down his back.
Bruce talks as they sit at the dinning room table. It's not the big one he dudes for galas, but a smaller one set up within eyesight of the kitchen. It's intimate and domestic.
Clark's stomach rolls dangerously.
"Carbonara fettuccine for Mr. Kent," Alfred sets Clark's plate in front of him with a quirk of his mustache. He had a shine in his eyes as they exchange a look.
He can't bring himself to smile back.
"-And egg drop soup for Master Bruce."
"Thank you, Alfred." Bruce doesn't grin, but it's a near thing. "We should be fine for the rest of the evening."
Alfred bows deeply. "Of course, Sir." He cleans up the serving tray then leaves the room with perfect
Utensils click as their date officially begins.
"He'll loosen up around you in time." Bruce says with a smile. "I guess he and I both like our privacy."
Clark's eyebrow twitches. He'd have to agree; though, not nearly enough to keep Clark unaware.
"Hm," Clark hums to himself, unable to think of a single thing to say to that. He eats, hoping Bruce can do most of the talking -even if he, surprisingly, doesn't typically enjoy talking endlessly. And as Bruce does talk, he's mostly speaking about some 'case' or another. Clark still has yet to find out why Wayne Industries is looking for the Pegnuin, but he's never worried his mind over it.
"-I'm not sure where he's getting the technology, but it's certainly above his usual standards. The Cobblepots were never known for special weapons. Maybe a visit with Lex could clear things-"
It's so obvious now that Clark knows. Special visits and interviews. He goes off to vacation for months at a time and returns all kinds of unusual. He smelled like sweet cigars last time, with a touch of an accent on his lips. Clark assumed it was just rich people things.
Now, he's starting to see the whole picture.
Unless, Clark's mind supplies, this is all just a big misunderstanding.
Whatever Bruce is saying gets cut off by Clark blurting, "Hey, are we...uh, is this relationship open?" It would make sense. One simple assumption could lead Bruce to thinking they were open to sleeping with others, possibly seeing others, while they're together. It would make that whole kiss feel less like a burn on his skin.
Bruce stops halfway to sipping from his spoon. "Not that I know of. Did you want to open it?"
And just like that, Clark's heart is twisting again.
"Oh." He says. "No, I just wondered."
It's like he never asked, after that. Bruce returns to his train of thought and goes on about this company and that rich person. It's exhausting, pretending he isn't breaking apart in the very same room as the person who caused this. He needs to say something. Rip it off like a bandage, then never come back again.
But when he opens his mouth to tell Bruce that the game is over, Clark locks up. His tongue refuses to move from where it's pressed against his cheek. His jaw tenses and his fingers bend his fork and spoon in half. His hearing stretches outward to the whole city and voices fill his mind like crashing waves against his skull.
"Clark?" Bruce's voice barely registers above the noise. "Hey, you're-"
A spot in the middle of the table has started smoking. Clark slaps a hand over his face before it can get worse.
"I have to go," Clark is already shoving away form the table and walking towards the front door. Bruce trails after a few steps but doesn't follow him out, thankfully.
The night air does little to soothe him. Flying has always been a means of stepping out of the little things and into the bigger picture. He stops worrying about Perry's deadlines and just listens to live exist around him. Humanity, so full and complete. A society of working parts, each with a life of their own.
But right now, all Clark hears is the whistle of high speed air against his hears. It's like he's in a chamber of kryptonite. His senses, which were too much just moments ago, are now numb.
Bruce cheated on him. He knew, he already felt the heartache, but it hits him in his weakest point. Bruce cheated. No misunderstandings, no excuses. He had Clark's attention and time, but he still chose Superman.
The irony isn't lost to Clark. He's lost over himself, but he also knows that isn't why it hurts so much. Bruce only knows Superman as an idol. A public figure that barely stays long enough to get a quote in. He's untouchable, nearly as mysterious as the Batman -though, no one would think it. It's just the person someone like Bruce would want. The man who has it all needs the one thing no one can get.
And Clark Kent? Well, he's just some reporter. A nobody from Smallville raised on good morals and a love for the people. All of Superman's inspiring motives without the red trunks.
Who would choose that? Lois didn't. Why would Bruce?
"-That concludes today's meeting. We'll meet again next month to discuss the budget cuts and staff rotations. Dismissed."
As soon as the word leaves Batman's mouth, nearly everyone at the table stands with a grimace.
Barry wraps an arm around John and Hal's shoulders, both Green Lanters shoving at him when he suggests drinks after watch duty. J'onn passes through the floor for quick transport to the computer terminals and Arthur leaves with a yawn.
"Kal?" Diana stops, offering her heavy glances between him and Batman.
Clark is about to stand as well, ready to whole himself up at the Fortress and cry for another few days, but Batman stops him with a light touch to the shoulder.
"Give us a moment." Batman asks and Diana chews her lip to suppress some kind of expression. She leaves, closing the door behind her with a click.
"What?" Clark puts real effort into not snapping. He straightens, lifts his frown into a neutral look, and brightens his voice as much as he can affort to. "Is there something you need?"
Batman steps closer -they're nearly chest to chest like this- and wraps an arm around Clark's waist. "You seem tense." The Dark Knight speaks like he's talking to a scared child. Unnaturally soft.
"I- I'm fine." Clark blinks in genuine surprise. "Just, uh, mission briefs aren't my favorite."
"You're sure?"
Clark can't think of the last time Batman talked to him like this. In fact, he can't think of a single time this happened at all!
Batman's grip loosens, and Clark thinks he'll pull away; but instead, Batman leans closer. He kisses Clark quick but firmly, the nose of his cowl bumping Clark's nose.
All at once, the exhausted saddens is replaced with adrenaline and icy dread.
"Batman!" Clark gasps. "You can't do- we're-"
"The door is locked, the windows are covered, and the security camera is on loop." He says it like it makes any difference.
"I-" Clark doesn't know what to say. Batman was once the item of his undivided attraction, but Clark knew it would never work. They're coworkers, heros in arms. The work is simply too complicated, too risky to add romance on top of it all. Besides, Batman has never seemed the type to settle with anyone. His life is to Gotham. Nothing else.
But it seems Clark was very, very wrong.
"I have a boyfriend!" Clark exclaims at last. A cheating boyfriend, but a boyfriend all the same. He wouldn't- couldn't entertain something like this before breaking it off. He has standards!
But Batman surprises him again by huffing a laugh and patting his cheek twice. "Indeed you do." He gives Clark another smug look as he too leaves the room, completely unbothered.
How has this become such a mess? First Bruce and now Batman?
He needs to fix this and soon. He'll call Bruce, tell him they need to talk. They'll break things off, move on from each other in a few months or so. He'll kindly tell Batman he isn't interested -which would be a lie, but someone has to knock sense back into him. Cut off both ends of the bridge and never cross the gap again.
It's for the best.
Bruce watches Superman from the corner of his eye. He lands soft on the balls of his feet and lets down the last of the hostages. With the museum cleared and the bomb defused, it will be child's play to catch the perpitrators.
So, Bruce lets his lip twitch into a half-smile. His heart flutters faster and his stomach ties itself in knots. He watches his amazing partner kneel beside a frightened teen and accept the shaky hug offered to him. Clark is so careful when he returns it in kind and goddamnit Bruce could eat through his own belt.
That's his partner. His adorable, loving partner. The symbol of hope among those who need it and an activist in writing. Bruce couldn't ask for a better man to call his.
And the could-very-much-fold-him-like-a-chair strength is just an added bonus, honestly. The sex will be amazing, when they get there.
If, Bruce reminds himself. He needs to go slower. Not everyone lived out their adult school years as a human sex machine.
The teen eventually lets go of the hug and Clark straighens again. His smile is genuine and it warms Bruce's heart to see him finally relax. He's been so tense lately and the case has yet to be solved so far. Bruce suspects it's the new Superman suit. He so loved the old one, even if the redesign looks incredibly similar.
Alfred's bet is on something at home. For Clark's sake, Bruce hopes that's not the case.
"They're good kids." Clark says when he's made sure each of the hostages are being cared for. "I hope this doesn't stick with them too long."
Bruce hums in acknowledgement. "Are you ready to go?" If everything is settled here, then they're only taking up space.
Clark blinks down at him. "Go?"
"To the cave? We still have to send in the security footage." And once the Metropolis police have enough evidence to give these crooks a proper sentence, they can move up to the manor for another date. Bruce made chocolate strawberries for dessert.
"I'm sorry. I have a, um, a date." Clark rubs at his neck with a flush.
Bruce rolls his eyes. He appreciates Clark's attempt at being discreet, but they're far enough out of earshot that even Bruce's paranoia is settled.
"Just hop in, Loverboy." Bruce calls the Batmobile to the corner and climbs into the driver's side.
Clark hesitates. "Bruce, I really-"
"I trust you to fly me across oceans. Trust me to drive you on the paved roads."
A second later and Clark visibly deflates. He slides into the passanger seat -which is just barely too small- and they're off.
From Metropolis lights to the damp cave, the car ride is silent. Not tense, really, but not exactly comfortable either.
Once parked, Bruce steps out of the car and goes straight for the computer. Alfred hasn't left anything out for him, thankfully, so this one task should be all they need fore the date can begin.
"Batman?" Clark calls from a few feet away.
Bruce turns to look at him. "Yes?"
Why does he look so nervous? Clark is practically sweating as he stares at the entrance to the cave, then at the dripping cieling. "Why do you live below Bruce Wayne?"
He's about to laugh but something in Clark's widened eyes makes Bruce stop. What...
Standing straight, Bruce pulls the cowl from his head. He's about to ask why Clark looks so stunned, but the expression turns into pure awe. Clark stares openly, his mouth hung. He's frozen in place, not even breating as Bruce tries to understand what in the hell is happening.
"You're..." Clark swallows. "You're Bruce Wayne?!"
Bruce struggles to find the words. "Yes? Clark, I told you this months ago!"
"No you didn't!"
Oh, this is ridiculous! "You saw my scars! And I openly flirted with you as Batman!"
"You said it was rock climbing!"
"I lied!" Bruce throws his hands up. "I can't very much tell Vicki Vale I fight crime every night!"
"But you-" Clark sputters. "You're Batman! And you kissed me!"
"We're dating, Clark! Of course I kissed you!" How did they get this far without realizing this? He's been talking about his detective work. He invited's made suggestive jokes about Clark's powers. And not to mention he kissed Superman just a few days ago.
Clark runs both hands through his hair, emotions playing on his face too fast to catch. Anger, confusion, shock, relief. It stays on the last one for a full minute.
When Clark speaks, his voice is filled with troubled humor. "Rao, I thought you were cheating on me. You were just Batman..."
"I would never do that to you, Clark." Bruce frowns. "Is that why you've been so anxious? You thought I was cheating on you with Superman?" It would be funny if he hasn't seen how stressed Clark has been.
A pained laugh ghosts from Clark's lips as he crosses the distance between them. Bruce's concern doesn't sway until they're already kissing again; this time, knowing who the other is. He can taste the relief on Clark's lips.
"I'm so glad," The man whispers. "I really didn't want to lose you."
Bruce threads his fingers into the soft hair at Clark's neck. "You won't. Not to that." God, if Alfred ever caught wind Bruce was cheating, he wouldn't make it through the night. He might as well dig his own grave to safe the efforts.
"I'll probably be mad about this again later, but right now, I just want to be here." Clark kisses him again, long and slow and full of love. "I love you, Bruce. Batman."
He chokes around the words. "I...I love you too."
Based off of a tumblr post I saw! I love dramatic irony.