ship-to-ship combat

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/39666915.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandoms: Superman - All Media Types, Batman - All Media Types
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Batman/Bruce Wayne - Relationship
Characters: Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne, Lois Lane, Dick Grayson, Original
Characters, Background & Cameo Characters
Additional Tags: Silly, Crack, Alternate Universe - Fans & Fandom, Characters Writing
Fanfiction, Social Media, Identity Porn, This Is STUPID, clark ships
bruce/batman and bruce would prefer he ship superman/batman instead,
Mutual Pining
Language: English
Collections: Orochi-chi, standing ovation: fics to keep re-reading <3, gayee's dc favs,
ao3: auden of our own, The Witch's Woods, Leymonaide fic recs
Stats: Published: 2022-06-15 Completed: 2024-01-03 Words: 76,785 Chapters:
13/13
 ship-to-ship combat
by pomeloquat

Summary

"Clark. What the hell is this," Lois asks, staring at Clark's Bruceman WIP folder. Clark's
first instinct is to fly away, but that would still leave his fic on display for her to see. His
second instinct is to blast a hole straight through his laptop screen with his heat vision,
which isn't much better.

Clark, in an attempt to make some spare cash, unintentionally stumbles into the world of
superhero fanfiction, becomes a prolific writer for Gotham's OTP, and tries his best to fend
off rival fans who want him to convert to superbat instead.

Notes

This is shameless crackfic based in some version of reality where taking superhero RPF
commissions isn't ludicrous hahaha...
 Chapter 1

With the death of his microwave oven, Clark has to return to the age-old question that’s been
plaguing him since leaving home: what can he do to make some extra cash on the side?

It’s not even like he accidentally shut the microwave door too hard; the thing just crapped out
on him and now he has to eat uncooked cup ramen because he’s also trying to save on food
costs. It’s a hard-knock life.

The Planet pays well enough, but with rent prices rising, the unfortunate weekly loss of
clothing due to Superman business, and the checks he sends home to Ma and Pa to help with
farm upkeep, he just finds his bank account looking more haggard than he’d like. So Clark
does what anyone in his position would do.

He turns to the internet for answers.

During his lunch break (while yet again eating uncooked cup ramen), he peruses blogs and
articles and Reddit posts about how to make some quick cash. Most of the suggestions aren’t
really feasible for him.

Making deliveries or chauffeuring people won’t work with his hectic Superman lifestyle. He
definitely can’t become a camboy. He’s trying not to bring attention to himself, after all. He
also doesn’t have the skills to be a furry porn artist. He supposes he can take a bunch of those
online surveys but the gains don’t seem worthwhile.

These ideas aren’t exactly tailored to his skillset, so he tries to think about what he can offer
the world. Anything involving his powers, he takes off the table. He’s not comfortable using
Superman to profit off ordinary people. And he certainly isn’t going to take sponsorship
deals.

Other than that, his main marketable skill is writing. He can’t hawk his journalism elsewhere,
but perhaps he can try and dabble in a different field. He did take a creative writing course
back in college; maybe he can try to churn out a few romance ebooks? Or perhaps there are
people out there looking for a freelance writer?

He scrolls around some social media sites to see if he can get a sense for an audience to pitch
to. People who need help writing cover letters or want some niche erotica, that kind of thing.
He absently absorbs a few different options until he stumbles upon a tweet that seems
promising.

amelia @gothamgoosecorps

Any bruceman authors out there taking writing commissions right now? Literally
willing to pay 300 US dollars for the slow burn fic of my dreams

Huh. $300 would definitely pay for a new microwave. Intrigued, Clark decides to do a little
more research.
According to Fanlore dot org, r/bruceman, and about a hundred different Tumblr and Twitter
accounts, Bruceman is the portmanteau ship name for the relationship between famous
Gotham philanthropist, CEO, and socialite, Bruce Wayne, and Clark’s favorite fellow
superhero, Batman.

The existence of shippers isn’t necessarily news to Clark. He’s stumbled upon fans
speculating about the relationships between various members of the League before. Some
theories are hilariously off-base, and others…

Well, suffice it to say that whatever it is that Superbat fans are noticing between himself and
Batman, it’s certainly based on reality on Clark’s side. Countless photographs and videos
with Clark’s own damning face beaming at Batman, standing too close to him, putting his
hand on Batman’s shoulder, carrying Batman off into the sky — Clark projects his feelings
brighter than the damn Bat-signal.

But his fruitless crush on Batman aside, Clark has now discovered the world of writing
commissions, and is seriously considering trying his hand at this fanfiction thing. The Justice
League fandom seems to be thriving, and if he can get himself a foothold and establish
himself as a writer, then maybe he can start turning a profit sooner than later.

Would it be morally questionable to write about his friends? Yes. Is this an invasion of their
privacy? Probably? But maybe less so if he only uses publicly available information? Would
it torpedo all of his working relationships if anyone ever found out? Yes, which is why he
probably shouldn’t do it.

But then again, does it even matter in the sea of existing Justice League fanfiction that’s
already out there? If the others already know that fanfiction about them exists, does the
existence of fanfiction written by Clark change anything? And if they don’t know, can it hurt
them?

Clark waffles about it throughout the day as he goes out on assignment, and continues to
waffle about it through a dinner of cold corner store pizza. It would be wrong to do. But is it
any less wrong to write about other Leaguers as Clark Kent, when they don’t know his secret
identity? Is it better or worse that this would be fiction?

As he dithers about it that evening, he decides to do a little more research to see if it can help
him decide. He reads posts about Wonder Woman being secretly married to Green Lantern,
and Flash having some kind of harem of rogues, and then winds up back on a Bruceman blog
looking at supposed “evidence” that the Dark Knight and the Prince of Gotham are an item.

To Clark’s surprise, it’s…kind of convincing.

It’s been posited for a while, and more or less confirmed that Batman’s gadgets and vehicles
and suits are all based on Wayne technology. Batman has to get his funding from somewhere,
and who better than Gotham’s favorite son?

Some people reduce it to a transactional relationship. “Batman is Bruce Wayne’s sugar

baby!” scream several different clickbait articles. Some even go so far as to do the math on
how much money Bruce must be spending on Batman every month.

Others claim that it’s not about the money. It’s about truth, justice, and love. Internet sleuths
have pointed out that Batman began operating soon after Bruce’s return to Gotham, raising
the possibility that his crusade might be a personal mission shared between the two lovers.
Did Batman also suffer some foundational tragedy like Bruce did, bringing them together to
try and heal both Gotham and one another’s emotional wounds?

They certainly seem to have more hidden connections that come to light once you start
digging. There are detailed accounts of Batmobile sightings near Wayne properties, and
Batman has been witnessed receiving medical assistance from Dr. Leslie Thompkins, a
longtime friend of Bruce’s father. Clark finds various claims that young Robin has saved
Bruce Wayne from more than one kidnapping. The current theory is that Batman never
rescues Bruce himself because he loves Bruce so much that he might break his vow not to
kill when faced with his beloved’s captors.

Clark finds that part a bit melodramatic and out of character for his friend, but it doesn’t
detract enough from the theory to stop him from reading on.

Meanwhile, the way Bruce Wayne, infamous for publicly cycling through lovers like he’s
trying to date everyone in the phone book, coyly tries to avoid giving a straight answer about
his feelings about Batman sure leaves a lot of fans guessing at the reason. He’s never so
secretive about any of the people he actually dates, so why does Batman receive different
treatment?

Clark has interviewed Bruce Wayne about half a dozen times, and during each meeting, Clark
has always noticed something kind of off about him. Not in a suspicious or threatening way,
per se, but he’s always gotten the sense that beneath the pretty boy himbo exterior is someone
a little more shrewd than he lets on. The words that come out of his mouth are almost too
stupid at times, as if designed to cause the most psychic damage possible. But when he’s not
making a fool of himself or wading through the dating pool, he’s usually doing something
genuinely good for Gotham. He’s a decent man, underneath it all, and one who very clearly
loves his city.

Just like Batman. The parallels between their devotion to Gotham draw too many connections
to be ignored.

Bruce, who uses his resources to build Gotham up from the inside, but is rendered helpless
against the tide of crime that stole his parents from him. Batman, who defends their city
against evil in the darkness, but cannot assist her citizens in the daylight. The handsome
prince charming and his dashing, broody knight. Together, they’re the power couple keeping
Gotham afloat.

Now that Clark’s this far down the rabbit hole, it’s easy to get lost in the rest of the
overwhelming proof. The conspiracy blogs. The tabloid articles. The interviews.
They all draw attention to the way Bruce’s voice always grows wistful when he segues every
conversation about Batman into a discussion of what he and ordinary Gothamites can do to
better their city together. They all theorize that the reason Batman is so reluctant to accept
outside help in defending Gotham is because he’s already found his ideal partner in Bruce
Wayne. The revolving door of beautiful people at Bruce’s side is just a smokescreen to
distract from the love of his life, the man who protects him silently from the shadows.

Clark isn’t usually one to be easily swayed by celebrity gossip, but the years of collated
evidence here are too much.

As someone who knows Batman firsthand, who can hopefully consider himself one of his
closest friends, Clark always wondered if there was someone that Batman held near and dear
in his heart besides Gotham, Robin, and the voice on the other end of his comms line. He had
hoped that perhaps he could fill that role one day, if he could ever convince himself to go
through with confessing his feelings.

But given the way Batman always hurries back to Gotham after League business, Clark can’t
help but wonder now if that’s because he already has someone waiting there for him.

God, it’s the only thing that makes sense. Batman and Bruce Wayne are in love.

And Clark — well. He’s pretty sure he’s about to write his first story about them.
 Chapter 2
Chapter Notes

Sorry to be back so soon but I'm having too much fun with this. In case it wasn't clear
before, this is an au where everybody has like half the number of brain cells they usually
do and ao3 invitations get sent really quickly and people spend tons of money on
commissions...what a world!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The first thing Clark does is make a burner email account for this endeavor. There’s no way
he wants to have any fic he writes tied to any of his identities.

With that out of the way, he skims several sources to figure out where he should be making a
fanfiction account. AO3, Fanfiction dot net, Justice Fic Archives, Wattpad, Super Writers
Association — there’s more options than he can count, but the general fanfiction subreddit
seems to agree that AO3 is a solid platform for both writers and readers, so he puts his new
email on the waiting list and then opens up an empty document to begin plotting.

And then he stares at the blank screen for three solid minutes, at a loss for what to do next.

What is he supposed to write about?

He’d gotten caught up in the Bruceman fever, half delirious on the manifestos he’d been
reading, itching to write the greatest love story that New Jersey has ever known. But the idea
formulating in his mind is grander than his current ability. He hasn’t plotted a piece of fiction
since undergrad, for goodness’ sake. He can’t jump straight into a doorstopper when he isn’t
even sure about his characterization or writing style. Sure, he used to daydream and scribble a
few goofy stories about his favorite characters in his notebook when he was a kid, but none
of it ever really went anywhere.

More research will be necessary. He was silly to think he could jump right into the deep end
without learning how to paddle first. He doesn’t want to be too influenced by the major
trends in fandom, but it shouldn’t hurt to familiarize himself with what other fans have
created.

Clark returns to AO3 and first skims the FAQ and guidelines before typing Bruceman into the
search bar. He quickly learns that the tag he’s looking for is Batman/Bruce Wayne, and that
there’s a whopping 8377 works about them. It makes him briefly curious about how many
people are writing stories putting him and Batman together, but he decides it’s better for him
not to know.

Reading wish fulfillment stories where he and his best friend fall in love in an attempt to
escape the reality where they never will — it’s a level of pathetic that he’s not willing to
stoop to.

So he scrolls through the first few pages of Bruceman fics to get a feel for what other people
are writing and what they like to see.

After clicking around and speed-reading for a while, he notes that hurt/comfort and mutual
pining are both very popular tropes. A lot of writers apparently want the two to find comfort
in one another that no one else can provide. His fellow fans love to think about ways the two
of them might become entwined.

There seem to be two main schools of thought. The first is that Batman and Bruce are
longtime friends, and that Bruce knows the man under the cowl. These fics tend to focus
more on two old friends slowly becoming lovers, or established relationship fics where they
overcome difficulties together. The second trend is that even Bruce doesn’t know who
Batman truly is, and his secret identity causes either a lot of angst, confusion, or humor until
it’s finally revealed to Bruce.

Clark can see the narrative draw of both options. Each brings a different kind of spice to the
process of them getting together. The possibilities are endless, which is perhaps part of the
joy that people take from fanfiction.

He discovers a few other commonalities, such as the frequent appearance of both Robin and
Bruce’s adopted son, Dick Grayson, who usually become fast friends. Batman’s gallery of
rogues also show up to cause strife for the couple, or to inadvertently push them together.
Sometimes other Justice League members appear, usually to prod Batman about his personal
life or to drive the plot forward with some action.

(Occasionally, Superman, ever the hopeful romantic, even acts as Batman’s matchmaker,
pushing him to finally confess his love. This information elicits in Clark an emotion not
previously known to Kryptonians or humans.)

He also finds a boatload of porn.

There’s…so much. Of all kinds. Involving all sorts of scenarios. The red E rating sears itself
into his brain as different obscene tags swim in and out of his vision. Public Sex. BDSM.
Prostitution Roleplay. Strength Kink. Office Blow Jobs.

He tries to scroll away, but the deluge of smut never seems to end. Clark can’t read porn
about his friend’s relationship. That would be a step too far. He isn’t going to think about
Bruce lovingly removing the Batsuit piece by piece with tender hands, or of Batman pinning
Bruce to the wall of his office, the door ajar enough that any employee walking by might hear
them…

Clark swivels his chair around so he’s no longer looking at the screen, moving fast enough
that he might’ve gouged a scratch into his floors with his feet. Another ding on his security
deposit, damn.

So. Smut. No. Absolutely not. That’s a road he can’t tread. That way lies madness. Deep
breaths, Kent. Let’s be professional about this.
Spinning back around, he pulls up the tag filters and excludes anything rated higher than
Teen. Like magic, the siren song of Batman porn vanishes with a click. Whew.

Okay. He re-centers himself and decides it’s better for him to shut down the operation
altogether. If he sleeps on it, he might be struck with inspiration in the morning. Clark
bookmarks the Bruceman page and the fics he liked best so he can return and comment later
when he has an account. He hides them deep in a folder labeled Tax Filing Tips where
hopefully no one will go looking and then hurries to get himself to bed. Lois will be tetchy if
he isn’t on top of his game for the Metropolis Public Schools press conference tomorrow.

Clark gets to work on time, having successfully resisted the urge to read more Bruceman fics
while brushing his teeth. He did come up with a few ideas for some short stories. A
hypothetical first meeting, a secret kiss away from prying eyes, an alternate universe or two.
He can’t wait to get started.

When he walks into the lobby, Lois is already standing there, glaring at her phone. Relief
settles on her face when she sees him, but it’s quickly replaced with annoyance again.

“Change of plans. We’re going to Gotham, c’mon.”

“I- sorry, we’re doing what?” he asks as he follows her right back out.

“Superintendent announcement got delayed because the prime candidate was actually a
reanimated corpse; it’s a whole thing, but the pavilion is getting decontaminated right now so
no one can get close. Perry thinks we should be able to wrap back around to it this
afternoon.”

“Alright, zombies are out, Gotham is in. Why?”

“Because,” and Lois sighs with her entire frame, “Bruce Wayne has apparently decided to
expand Wayne Aerospace into literal outer space.”

“Huh. Rockets to Mars? Moon exploration?”

“Not sure. Word is he wants to put a space hotel in orbit to impress his flings. Sounds a little
far-fetched, even for him. I mean, to go all the way to space just to hook up?”

Clark freezes right outside the passenger door of Lois’ car as she continues muttering.

The Justice League satellite that they’d been talking about putting up into space. The base of
operations they were hoping to implement from which they could both watch Earth and scan
for extraterrestrial threats—

Holy shit. Bruce Wayne is going to build his lover an entire space base. Are these the kinds
of gifts that the rich give out? No, he can’t imagine Lex Luthor ever doing anything of the
sort. This is big. Like, proposal big. Batman will be exhilarated, even if he doesn’t outwardly
show it. He and Bruce must be really serious. Committed.

They’re the real deal. True love.

Clark staggers under the revelation, and Lois gives him a look from over the roof of the car.

“You okay there, Clark? Didn’t eat anything weird for breakfast, did you?”

“No, I’m fine, Lo. Just, uh, got a bit of vertigo for a second. Let’s go,” he mumbles, trying to
reconcile the warring feelings of happiness for his friend, excitement as a newly-minted
Bruceman shipper, and crushing disappointment that he never really had a chance with
Batman at all.

By the time they get to Gotham Lois has only cursed out three drivers instead of her usual
six, so Clark considers the journey a success. She parks a few blocks away from the Wayne
Aerospace building and they power walk over. Lois keeps glancing around as they approach,
as if on the lookout for someone.

“Please don’t tell me we’re trying to corner him outside his car again,” Clark says when he
realizes what she’s up to.

“It never hurts to be persistent. Besides, he’s a slippery one. Even if we see him, there’s no
guarantee he won’t slip away, which is why- oh! Over there!”

Lois takes off when she sees Bruce exiting the back entrance of his building, Clark chasing
after her like a harried sheepdog.

“Wait! We have a few questions for you!” Lois yells as Bruce approaches amid a small crowd
of people. To his credit and possible insanity, he does slow, saying something to some of the
suits, who nod and walk onward toward the plaza where the cameras are waiting.

Clark half-expects to feel some kind of burning jealousy when he sees Bruce again, and
indeed, there is an ache under his ribs when their eyes briefly meet. But the bulk of the
emotion he feels is burgeoning acceptance.

This is the man that his friend has chosen. This is the man who has entered Batman’s heart
when no one else could. What else can Clark do but support them in any way he can?

“Oh, Ms. Lane, trying to catch me off guard again?” Bruce says after waving his security off.
He gives Lois a blinding smile, and it makes Clark’s heart lurch. He knows it must be for the
cameras, but doesn’t Batman ever grow weary of seeing his lover flirt his way through the
entire eastern seaboard? But Batman understands necessity. He’s probably resigned himself
long ago to the fact that he and Bruce can never openly express their affection for one
another. “You know, if you’re trying to get me alone-”
“There are literally six other people here,” Clark can’t help muttering as he glances at the
bodyguards still milling around no more than two yards away. A surprised kind of laugh slips
from Bruce, his megawatt grin softening into something more genuine. A glimpse of the
person he must be when no one is filming.

“That there are,” he agrees. “So I suppose today, yet again, will not be the day that Ms. Lane
finally falls for my charms.”

“Yeah, that’ll be a cold day in hell, sorry,” Lois says, flipping her notebook open. “With the
new direction that Wayne Aerospace is headed in, which of your other subsidiaries will also
be expanding their scope?”

“Oh, a number of them, but without the teleprompter telling me what to say, I don’t really
have much for you.” He shrugs, and Lois stares flatly back.

“Where do you see the future of Wayne Enterprises going?

“Uh, I guess space is a good start? Gotham will still be our headquarters, of course, but
doesn’t a moon base sound fun? Like a bouncy castle, but for work.”

“No, that’s-” Lois cuts herself off, and scrawls “MOON BASE” on her notepad. The irritation
in each letter amuses Clark enough that he accidentally drops his pen when he tries to hide
his laugh. Before he can retrieve it himself, Bruce bends down to pick it up for him. Vaguely,
Clark is reminded again that the guy has a great ass. Good for you, Batman.

“Here you go.” Bruce holds the pen out.

“Thank you, Mr. Wayne,” Clark says, taking the pen back while trying to impart all of his
myriad feelings through his gaze. Take care of him. Treat him the way he deserves. Give him
everything I can’t.

Prove to me that I’m not wrong to trust you with his heart.

Bruce blinks at him, looking slightly nonplussed by his intense eye contact, but he recoups
with a friendly smile.

“Well, if that’s all-”

“Sorry, just one more question,” Clark says hurriedly. “Given your renewed support of the
Children’s Cancer Center at Gotham General, has Wayne Biotech seen any recent
breakthroughs in the field?”

“Oh, you know medicine and kids are two of my favorite topics to talk about, but I really
have to get going, sorry!” He jerks a hand toward the plaza, where indeed a man is gesturing
for Bruce to join him. “Good to see you two again. Hope to hear from you during the Q and
A!”

Lois makes an attempt to stop him again, but Bruce is swept away by his crowd of security
guards before she can.
 “He does this every time,” Clark reminds her. “Has he ever told you anything you can
actually print?”

“Not yet, but he has to slip up eventually. I know he’s not as dumb as he acts. I’m gonna get
something useful out of him one day,” she swears as they begin walking back around to the
designated press area.

“I’ll be rooting for you.”

As they find a place to sit, Clark takes a minute to reassess his situation. He was still a little
unsure of himself this morning, but he’s actually in the perfect position as a Bruceman fan.

Not many people have access to first hand research like Clark does. Given everything he
knows about Batman, and his passing familiarity with Bruce, he should be more than
prepared to write his first story. In fact, if he plays his cards right, he might be able to write
the first canon-compliant “Bruce and Batman on the Justice League satellite” fic. He knows
exactly what he’ll be doing when he gets home tonight.

Chapter End Notes

Bruce, after years of watching the movies Dick wants to see: ...bend and snap...
 Chapter 3
Chapter Notes

Realized belatedly that if Clark is writing bruceman I have to write bruceman too.....

Thanks so much for the support, everyone!! 💗

When his AO3 invitation finally arrives, Clark almost scatters his bag of oyster crackers
everywhere.

“You’re dropping your lunch, Smallville. Did you get some good news?” Lois asks, peering
at him over her own bowl of soup.

“No, I just saw a really great deal on socks,” he says, putting his phone away.

“Exciting,” she laughs. “Pass me the pepper, would you?”

Clark doesn’t look at the email again until he’s alone in his apartment that evening, for fear of
getting distracted at work. When he’s finally ready to relax for the night, he settles in at his
desk and begins putting together his account.

The first thing he needs is a username. He racks his brain for something unique or inspiring,
but he also doesn’t want anything that could trace back to him. To that end, he settles for
something that he hopes describes him well: FriendlyFan. Maybe it’ll encourage other fans to
interact with him!

He skips adding an avatar for now, content to use the default assigned by the site, and throws
a few quick lines in his bio about being a new fan excited to enter the world of Bruceman and
fanfiction. Since he hasn’t finished editing his own story yet, he decides to spend his time
bookmarking and commenting on the fics he previously saved. He probably clicks the kudos
button at least fifty times that night.

After a long day putting out literal fires and stopping a runaway train in between work, Clark
finally gets the chance he’s been waiting for. He’s going to upload his first story.
It’s a little daunting at first to fill out all the fields. G rating, no warnings, Bruceman
relationship tag, character tags, additional tags…

It’s pretty short, clocking in at about 2000 words. Just a quick exploration of a post-battle
moment of tenderness between the two, touching on the emotions they share but neither are
yet willing to act on. It’s more melancholy than he was expecting to get, but the atmosphere
took over and Clark let the words flow accordingly.

The idea is a little inspired by his own life, actually, but no one needs to know about all the
moments Clark spent wishing Batman would allow him to do more than give him a cursory
scan with his x-ray vision or the occasional lift back to Gotham. Instead he channels the
feelings into giving voice to a man who shares them.

He comes up with a brief summary and then holds a breath full of oxygen he doesn’t need as
he presses the “Post” button. Oh lord. He did it. Here it is, his first Bruceman fic, shiny and
new and ready for the world. It’s not quite as thrilling as his first published article, but it
gives him a similar rush. Smiling, Clark goes to clean out some emails while he waits to see
if anyone has read his fic.

Fifteen seconds later, he’s clicking back to AO3 and meeting with disappointment when the
hits on his fic are still sitting at zero. It hasn’t even been a minute yet; he shouldn’t be
surprised that no one’s noticed it. Is the wait always so agonizing? Maybe he should shut
down his laptop and go clean the kitchen or something.

In fact, perhaps he better fight temptation altogether by seeing what the sirens screaming
down the street in downtown are all about. Yes, Superman has a few more matters he can
attend to before the day is through.

He sees to a couple dozen rescues around the world, even stopping by to say hello to Arthur
when he spots him off the coast of Mexico, before he returns to Metropolis. On his way
home, he keeps his ear open for a familiar heartbeat, and when he catches it, he finds himself
flying toward Gotham as if pulled forth on a string. It’s a bad habit to build, he knows,
especially since he’s certain Batman will scold him for it if he enters Gotham airspace more
often than whatever secret quota he’s been mentally allotted.

“Superman,” Batman growls when he spots Clark floating high above. He has a penlight in
his hand and a little vial of evidence that he tucks away in the utility belt.

“Hey, there. Thought I’d drop in and say hello to the dynamic duo,” Clark says, smiling at
Robin, who’s currently balancing on one hand.

“Good timing! Wanna come grab ice cream with us? B’s treat since I’m back on patrol for the
weekend,” Robin says, leaping out of his handstand. He’s shot up like a weed, reaching
Batman’s shoulders now. Clark knows he’s been doing some missions on his own with
comrades his own age, but when he’s hanging around Batman, he still reminds Clark of the
little boy he first met years ago.
“How generous of him.” Clark is about to make a joke about Batman having a large wallet,
but his smile quickly fades as he remembers exactly where that money comes from. Is he
about to eat ice cream on Bruce Wayne’s dime? No, Batman must have his own income and
savings. He wouldn’t use his boyfriend’s money so frivolously, would he? Then again, if
Bruce and Robin are close, maybe the boy gets his own allowance. Like…a step-son might.

“Kal,” Batman says, interrupting Clark’s thoughts. His voice is a touch less gruff than usual.
“Is something weighing on you?”

“Oh, no, I’m just thinking that I should probably pass on ice cream this time around. Too full
on sunlight,” he jokes stupidly, pointing up at a star that’s no longer in the sky. Idiot.

A soft huff of air slips from Batman’s lips, and he turns on his heel to face the adjacent
building. “In that case, get back to your own city.”

“What he means is come back next week and we can all share the triple decker banana boat,”
Robin stage-whispers to Clark with a grin.

“I’ll take you up on it. Stay safe out there.” Clark lifts back into the air as the two grapple off
back toward the Batmobile. He remains watching for a few moments longer until he sees
them enter the vehicle, and then he returns home for the night, finally ready to turn in. His
mind is buzzing with too much stimulation at this point. He needs a good night’s rest to let it
all decompress.

The silence stretched between them, longer than the distance from Bruce’s fingertips to
Batman’s bare wrist. If he reached out his hand, if he were brave enough to finally allow
himself to close the ever-shrinking gap, he could catch Batman’s hand in his. They could
finally meet skin to skin without the pretense of medical help, a daring rescue, an
accidental touch whenever Batman passed Bruce prototype blueprints for his next
invention.

Four inches. That was all that was separating them: ten years of yearning and mutual
trust condensed down to the length of a batarang. Batman was literally only a breath
away, and Bruce could feel his own pulse quicken in anticipation as he talked himself
into going through with it. This could be it. This could be the moment he’d been
working toward since they first laid eyes on one another across the Gotham rooftops all
those years ago—

“It’s been a long night,” Batman said abruptly, the gravel tones of his voice tempered
with a softness that Bruce knew he only afforded a select few in his life. This knowledge
warmed his heart even as he accepted the statement as the brush-off it was meant to be.
Tonight would not be the night he found his courage hiding in the murky corners of the
cave.
Tonight would join a thousand others in the long memory of Bruce’s precious friendship
with the only other man who understood Gotham like he did. The only man who loved
their city enough to commit himself to it wholly, completely, unerringly.

Perhaps that was why he and Bruce could never become more than they were. Perhaps
neither of them could ever love each other as much as they loved their city.

Still, it wasn’t in Bruce’s nature to simply do as he was told.

“It’s barely past midnight,” Bruce countered, and the corner of Batman’s mouth quirked
up just slightly.

“Bats are nocturnal. Gotham royalty isn’t.”

“I wish you wouldn’t refer to me that way. You know I don’t see myself like that-”

“It’s a necessary role you play. The people need you to lead from above, just like they
need me to protect the streets below.” Batman looked away, for even with the white
lenses in his cowl they both knew Bruce could read too much emotion on his face if he
didn’t. The bubble of quiet settled back down between them as Bruce waited for Batman
to speak. He knew by now when Batman was weighing his thoughts, searching for the
right words.

Batman’s gaze remained fixed on his equipment as he said, his voice low and steady,
“But if the day comes when neither of us are needed any longer…”

“If that day comes,” Bruce said softly, “let me watch the sunrise with you. We’ll
welcome the dawn together.”

One day, he might finally close the distance. He might finally invite Batman into the
light. Until then, he would be content to share the shadows.

I_love_cacti

and when i tell you i let out a single glistening tear, what then

SlothLustWrath

Beautiful! I really love the way you captured Bruce’s conflicting emotions about
maintaining their friendship and working relationship and yearning to take a chance on
something more. Look forward to reading more from you in the future!

bats307

The moment with the bandage is so sweet!! Thank you for the fic! ♥♥♥
 Chapter 4
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

The welcome reception to his first story has Clark floating on cloud nine in the following
week. Sure, he’s still eating plain grits and paperclips for a snack when he gets peckish, but at
least his next paycheck is coming in soon and he’s feeling pretty good about his first foray
into creative writing.

He’s thinking for his next fic he might want to try something with a bit more plot. Nothing
too ambitious, but maybe a bit of relationship development or a short case fic where they
have to work together? Clark also has an interest in the potential identity porn aspect of the
relationship. He often dreams of a day where he’ll be comfortable with revealing his secret to
someone he cares about. He’d like to give that chance to Batman and Bruce.

But he might be daydreaming too much about fic ideas in between rescues and interviews.
When Lois and Jimmy ask what’s keeping him so occupied lately when he zones out on their
way out of the office, he tells them he’s started writing a novel. About the Dust Bowl. They
both wish him luck but also make it pretty clear that they have no desire to read it, which is
just fine by him.

Batman also picks up on his change in mood, and though he doesn’t come outright and say
anything about it, he does look perturbed when Clark leaves the Hall of Justice right away
without staying to chat after their most recent League meeting. It doesn’t help that Clark’s
become less handsy with him lately.

Clark doesn’t want to stop patting Batman on the back or grabbing his shoulder in a show of
camaraderie, but now that he knows his friend is in a relationship, he doesn’t want to do
anything improper. While most of his actions could be interpreted as completely platonic,
Clark thinks it’s probably best he try to wean himself off some of them.

If so many people on the internet have noticed Superman’s inappropriate affections for
Batman, then it’s possible Batman himself may soon notice as well. Batman is notoriously
bad at being friendly or conducting himself in a way that doesn’t confuse or annoy other
people, so he hasn’t caught onto Clark yet, but for the World’s Greatest Detective, it’s only a
matter of time. Clark would like to spare himself the embarrassment of being turned down by
his best friend in a secret relationship. Besides, maybe this will help him move on.

Someday, Batman will be ready to tell the world about Bruce, and Clark wants to be ready to
congratulate him as a friend, not a pining fool. So he bids goodbye to Batman today with just
a wave, trying to prove he still has a sense of decorum.
When Clark begins plotting out a simple case fic that ends in an identity reveal, he realizes
something. He’s going to have to talk about the man under the cowl.

Some people try to avoid addressing it, never describing Batman’s looks directly or
mentioning him by name. On the whole, most fans find it difficult to pull off in a satisfying
manner, so they’ve each decided on their own vision of the dark knight. Some fics even posit
that Batman might be another influential figure in Gotham, or one of Bruce’s famous friends.

Batman is generally presumed to be around Bruce’s age, though there are certainly some
interesting takes on how a sizable age gap between the two might affect their relationship. An
older Batman who learns to open his heart again for the beautiful young man who captivates
their city. Or a young, inexperienced Batman who can be taught how to love by the doting
billionaire who can attend to his every need. Clark obviously knows that Batman’s age is
close to his own, and therefore Bruce’s, so he’ll stick with that unless he ever wants to dabble
in an alternate universe setting.

The non-physical aspects to Batman’s life are more variable, from his job to his hobbies and
family members. Clark is uniquely situated to write a “canon” version of Batman’s interests
and likes, based on their long friendship, but he should take care not to reveal too much. It’s
better to blur truth and fantasy, just in case anyone who knows the two of them ever looks too
closely at his writing.

As for Batman’s looks, Clark tries not to think too hard about what he hopes he might find
under the cowl. It would be a sucker’s game to inject too much of his own desires into
fiction. Better to survey the field, and see what’s worked for others so far.

Despite many writers putting their own spin on Batman’s appearance, Clark has noticed that
the overwhelming fanon (a new term he learned after trawling tumblr for information) is that
Batman is blond, with warm hazel eyes that can’t hide the depths of the pain he’s suffered for
his city. The physical dichotomy between Batman and Bruce leads to a lot of poetic
rhapsodizing about how perfectly they complement each other, like night and day.

Bruceman fans sure love the thought of the cold and aloof Batman looking like the
embodiment of sunshine. It contrasts cleanly with warm-hearted Bruce’s ivory tower ice
prince look. Based on his shallow knowledge of other fan communities, Clark has noticed
that fans tend to flock to ships where the two people involved have some physical contrasts,
like a height difference. Too bad for Bruceman fans that Batman appears to measure up fairly
close to the surprisingly well-built Bruce. Clark has seen some fanart that tries to accentuate
any perceived differences in their body shapes. Most fanartists likely never get to see Bruce
Wayne up close as often as Clark has, so sometimes he ends up on the willowy side, since it
can be hard to see his muscular build under his well-tailored suits. Others like to think that
Batman’s thigh-high bat boots give him a few extra inches of height, so when he’s out of the
suit, he can lean his head against Bruce’s shoulder.

(Clark may or may not have started a Bruceman fanart folder.)

Blond Batman doesn’t quite ring true for Clark, probably because he’s seen Batman with five
o’clock shadow before, and the hair along his jaw looked too dark to be blond. He reads a fic
or two where Batman is a redhead, which is a fun thought, but he decides to settle on making
Batman a brunet. Chestnut brown that goes nicely with Bruce’s natural black hair. Eye color
isn’t something he dwells too much on, having grown used to Batman’s bizarrely emotive
white lenses, so he sticks with hazel.

The name matter is harder to settle. Any name he could give Batman just feels…wrong. The
most common fanon name for Batman is Thomas, which Clark finds slightly odd given that
it’s the same name as Bruce's father. He digs far enough back in the memory of the internet to
find out that the name originated with an old fic written by a popular fan who was one of the
first Bruceman writers. A seminal hundred and fifty thousand word epic about Bruce and
Thomas Batman’s journey from childhood friends to defenders of Gotham together in
adulthood. He winds up reading the whole thing in one sitting one night, only realizing he has
to go to work when he looks up from his laptop and sees the sun is out. Good thing he doesn’t
really need to sleep.

Clark’s heart wants to choose a name for Batman that starts with B, due to his fondness for
the nickname, but he can’t think of anything that fits. Ben. Bob. Brian. Bill. Eugh. He doesn’t
love Thomas, but after reading that fic, he’s become more attached to it. Maybe he’ll stick to
using a nickname. Tommy. Tom.

With a name and face finally in mind, Clark gets to typing.

“It really is you,” Bruce says, reaching out to stroke Tom’s face with his free hand. He
sets the cowl aside as he takes in the sight of his old friend: his rumpled golden hair, the
soft green-flecked eyes that Bruce has known his whole life, the tiny scar over his
eyebrow that he got when they were just kids, battling with sticks on the manor grounds.

“How long have you suspected?” Tom asks, tempering his Batman growl into the voice
that Bruce knows by heart. It would be a lie if he said neither of those voices have
starred in his dreams at some point.

“Since that rescue at Ace Chemicals. You said to me that you would never let me fall.
Just like-”

“-that time in the woods.” Reaching up to grasp Bruce’s hand, Tom reiterates the
promise they made as children. “I’m the brave knight, remember? It’s my job to protect
you.”

Bruce laughs. “Well, half the time I was playing the dragon, so the metaphor doesn’t
completely hold water. But you always did talk about how you were going to save
Gotham one day. I should’ve known.”

Tom’s grip tightens, and his gaze burns through Bruce, as he says with the solemn
devotion Bruce has come to expect whenever Batman speaks about Gotham, “The city
needs me. You-”
 “I need you, too,” Bruce confirms. He lifts Tom’s hand and presses a gentle kiss to his
bruised knuckles. “But I know I have to share you with Gotham. Just like you know
where my priorities lie.”

Blue eyes meet hazel, and Tom exhales slowly. This time, when he smiles, Bruce can
see so clearly that there never could have been anyone else beneath the mask.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

At the next Justice League meeting, Batman breaks the news to them that the satellite is a go.
There’s a lot of discussion of logistics and the timeline, but for the most part, everyone is
quite excited by the idea, especially as Batman goes through his 293 slide powerpoint about
all its planned amenities.

Clark wavers between anticipation and a leaden sense of finality. The big engagement present
really is coming to fruition. He supposes congratulations will shortly be in order, if Batman is
ever willing to open up about his personal life.

It’ll be their love nest in the cosmos, Clark thinks glumly to himself. Each League member is
going to have their own room up in the Watchtower. He can picture it now: Batman inviting
Bruce up to space to see the results of his loving gift, a tour around the base rife with stolen
kisses, an invitation to be the first person to visit Batman’s personal quarters…

No! He isn’t going to think about it! Unless he ends up writing about it later! In a PG-13
manner!

“Supes, you okay?” Flash asks, tapping him gently on the arm. “You don’t look as excited as
everybody else…”

“Oh, I am!” Clark reassures him, trying to summon up a smile. “Just a little worried about
some threats coming to disrupt the construction process. But I guess that’s what we’re here
for!”

“Yeah, haha, with our luck Brainiac’ll show up and cause trouble!”

“Let’s hope not,” Clark says, patting him on the shoulder. From the corner of his eye, he
notices Batman briefly pause, before clicking on to his next slide.

When the meeting is over, Wonder Woman pulls Clark aside for a brief follow-up about a
mountain monster situation they handled together last week, where one of her Amazonian
sisters was injured in the fray. The young lady is apparently healed and well again, and Clark
gives her a one-armed hug in thanks for the update. After she departs, Clark turns to leave as
well, and almost runs straight into Batman in doing so.
 “B! I didn’t see you there,” Clark says, unable to keep from smiling. Still a pining fool.
Batman observes him for a moment, clinically scanning Clark’s whole body with a slightly
concerned set to his lips.

He apparently doesn’t find anything, because the next thing he says is, “Robin was asking
after you.”

“Oh? Something he and the Titans need help with?” Robin should know that he can call
Clark anytime, whether just out loud or over the communicator.

“No. He wanted to repeat his invitation to ice cream.”

Clark knows the smart thing to do would be to try to reschedule for another time, when the
thought of Bruce and Batman having secret trysts all over their awesome space base isn’t so
present in his mind. But he doesn’t want to cut Batman out of his life anymore than he
already has. It can be hard for people in relationships to upkeep their friendships, so he
should seize any opportunity he can to continue hanging out with Batman, before Bruce and
Gotham consume all of his time.

“Right, the banana boat! I’m free now, actually, if you two are up for a snack.”

“I’ll call Robin, then,” Batman says, nodding briskly at Clark before stepping aside to contact
his protegé.

Clark watches him as he talks, memorizing again the slight curve to his spine when he
relaxes, the pale pink of his lips, the way his eyes continue to scan the stretch of the hallway
even as he talks to Robin about milkshakes over his comms.

After all this time, Clark knows enough about Batman to fill a book. The dinosaur facts he
can pull out of thin air, the stiffness in his arm when he resists the urge to reach down and pet
a dog, the penchant for salsa verde on his burrito, the slight purse of his lips when he
acknowledges Robin’s puns but refuses to chuckle, the fact that he apparently personally
restocks the hygiene products in the Hall of Justice bathrooms himself, the star shaped
stickers he keeps in his utility belt for scared children, the encyclopedic knowledge he has of
the original Gray Ghost series.

Clark knows so much, and yet, he’ll never know as much as he wants to.

That’s a dream that’s out of reach.

Chapter End Notes

Bruce, whenever he reads a Bruceman fic: my childhood friend thomas? tommy?

tommy elliot???
 Chapter 5
Chapter Notes

Sorry for any confusion I caused, but the excerpt from last chapter isn't Clark's! It's from
the fic of ancient bruceman bnf doctorbrain who popularized the name Thomas (lmao).
Why he didn't make Batman a redhead is a mystery!

Anyway, in this chapter Clark has an experience with one of the malcontents of
fandom...

After Clark publishes his second fic, a short tale of Bruce coming to learn that Batman is the
handsome curator at the Gotham Natural History Museum that he’s been flirting with all
through his fundraiser, he decides to try his hand at the satellite fic that’s been consuming his
brain. The museum story was light and fun, combining some banter with a simple case about
trying to thwart Catwoman’s latest job. Clark gladly threw a few bad cat puns in there on her
behalf. He had a good time writing it, and people seemed to enjoy the fic well enough, but
now he wants to try something a little more…cutting-edge. A story idea that hasn’t been
written by anyone else yet.

No one actually knows there’s going to be a League base yet, but plenty of people have
speculated about what Bruce Wayne plans to do in space, and of those varying theories, there
are murmurs of him funding some kind of Justice League project. Combined with the
Bruceman fandom’s propensity to assume that the couple must have many ways of meeting
in private, the idea of them making a satellite their home away from home doesn’t seem too
far-fetched, Clark thinks. It’s not that great a logical leap to be making. Just a lucky guess.

He won’t use any real information from the Watchtower plans, beside the general concept of
some shared spaces and individual rooms for each member. The central conceit of the fic is
that Bruce comes up to visit the base that he helped pay for, and the Justice League gives him
the grand tour. To everyone’s surprise, Batman volunteers to guide him, and the other
Leaguers wonder what it might mean.

When they’re alone, it’s revealed that the satellite was in part a gift to show Bruce’s devotion
to his sweetheart, and they share a touching moment together under the stars. Clark can
picture it now. The two of them, standing side by side at the windows, looking down at their
beautiful planet. No words necessary, because they understand each other well enough to
enjoy the quiet together. Their bodies mere inches apart, and Batman’s gloved hand swaying
close enough to brush against Bruce’s cape—

Bruce’s suit jacket. Because Bruce Wayne doesn’t wear a cape, haha. Ridiculous.
Anyway, Clark has logged into his fandom email on his phone so he can continue to work on
his writing while away from his computer. Seeing him tap-tapping away on his phone all the
time, Lois asks after his great American novel, because she’s a good friend. Clark has to
appease her with details on his nonexistent characters and the Great Depression facts he
learned back in middle school. Living a double triple life is hard.

There was only a second of peace before Green Arrow shattered the silence.

“Wait, is this not one of your weird jokes?”

“When have I ever told you a joke,” Batman said, his voice completely deadpan. He
didn’t look away from Bruce, searching his fiancé’s eyes for any sign of discomfort.
They still hadn’t decided to reveal their relationship to anyone besides Dick and Robin,
but they both knew that soon the media would be buzzing with speculation about why
he’d decided to fund this project. It would only be a matter of time before those closest
to them came looking for answers, and Batman wanted to show that he was as
committed to this relationship as Bruce was. Not that offering to give Bruce a tour was
exactly a declaration of love, but all the Leaguers knew it was deeply unusual for him to
elect himself for social activities such as this.

Bruce’s expression remained polite and pleasant, never deviating from the mask he wore
in public, but Batman could read the adoration in his eyes. He understood the gesture for
what it was: a promise that one day, in a better future, they would no longer need to hide
their relationship.

“Who am I to turn down an invitation from the great Batman?” he answered, gesturing
toward the corridor.

“Are you sure? One of us could take you instead,” Green Arrow said, still looking
concerned. Batman wasn’t sure if he was worried that Batman might end up trying to
jettison notorious trouble magnet Bruce from the satellite, or if Bruce would be put off
from future philanthropy by Batman’s surly disposition.

“Oh, don’t worry about me, Robin Hood. I’m a Gotham boy too; I know how to hold my
own.” Bruce gave Green Arrow a cheerful wink. Batman suppressed a smirk when he
noticed the other hero couldn’t decide if he was charmed or annoyed.

“Then, it’s decided. Batman will show Mr. Wayne around. I’m certain he would love to
see the view from the conference room,” Wonder Woman said, smiling at her friend.
“We’ll contact you if anything comes up.” Batman nodded in agreement, knowing he
could count on her to follow through.

“Don’t forget to show him the kitchen! Or the training gym!” Flash called as Batman
ushered Bruce away.
“Are we sure he isn’t possessed?” Green Lantern muttered to Martian Manhunter, who
watched them leave.

“Batman is uncompromised,” Martian Manhunter responded serenely, knowing that any

feelings he could read from the duo were no one’s business but their own.

oiwenfaljn

OH MY GOD I can’t believe you solved the Wayne Aerospace puzzle you’re a genius
A++++

Loved this!! Thanks for sharing!

GreenArrowOwesMeTenDollars

This premise is amazing, you are fantabulous, have a great day

Hawkgirlgrrrrrl

The kiss was so sweet!! Of course Bruce wouldn’t propose with something as normal as
a ring; he had to give his man a whole space station. I loved seeing the other League
members reacting to Batman’s offer; wish we could’ve seen what Superman thought too,
maybe next time! Keep up the great work!

glubglubgrub

akjdsfhalksdjfh author i think youre really onto something here! when they announce the
JL satellite im going to tell everyone i know that friendlyfan said it first! ♥ actually ill
just make a tumblr post about it now unless you have your own promo post i can reblog!
let me know!

where’s superman

did you seriously think people wouldn’t notice you leaving batman’s BEST FRIEND out
of the fic? couldn’t figure out how to prop up your superficial ship without cutting out
the competition, huh??

you bruceman stans are all the same lmao

bats307

Why are you even here if you don’t like bruceman? Get a life?

FriendlyFan, ignore this troll. Your fic was great as usual!! ♥♥

The secret handholding by the windows was my favorite part!

The satellite fic is a surprising hit, probably due to its relevance to current events in the
Bruceman world.

It wasn’t exactly a conscious decision to leave himself out of the satellite fic, but Clark didn’t
expect it to be so controversial. On the one hand, it’s kind of nice to know he has fans even in
the Bruceman fandom. On the other hand, it’s really, really weird to know that some of them
are out here trying to use him to shoot down Bruceman shippers. Those are his fellow fans!
He could probably just delete the rude comments, but he decides to respond with civility and
simply thank the commenters for reading. He’ll have to insert himself in the background next
time he writes any League cameos. Superman isn’t going to star in any of his fics though; if
people come looking for that, they’ll have to live with their disappointment.

The other thing that his comments bring to his attention is that he’s not on any social media,
which is where most fans tend to congregate. Clark does have a twitter account under his
name to link to Daily Planet articles and retweet information and PSAs about important
topics, but he’s not that interested in using it outside a professional context except for the
occasional cute animal video. If he made a fandom account, he might not use it for much
either.

He only decides to go for it when he realizes that it’s a good way to help promote the work of
the creators he likes. There are so many wonderful Bruceman authors and artists out there; if
he uses social media, he can help bring attention to their great work!

It takes a few minutes, but soon he’s the proud owner of friendlyfan on tumblr and
FriendlyFan1939 on twitter. He gets sucked into a vortex of finding and following and
reblogging and liking and then has to hide his computer in the living room to force himself to
catch a few hours of sleep. It’s amazing how much of his day fandom can take up if he isn’t
careful.

Clark’s career has been full of ups and downs in the last couple of years, but on the whole
he’s gotten the chance to see and write about a lot of meaningful things. Unfortunately, today
is probably not going to be one of those days.

“She broke her leg?” Clark asks in dismay, wondering how on Earth poor Cat got herself
involved in a polo accident of all things.

“And bruised a lot more than that,” Perry says, shaking his head. “In any case, I’m
distributing her assignments between the rest of you, and you drew the proverbial short straw.
You’re headed to Gotham.”
Clark doesn’t even have the time to put up a protest before he’s packed on a train headed
across the bay. He enters the Wayne Enterprises building in a daze, hoping that Cat heals
quickly, because the prospect of interacting with Bruce Wayne more than once every three
months sounds exhausting. Not that Bruce is that bad. Clark mentally scolds himself. This is
Batman’s husband-to-be, after all. Clark could stand to be a little kinder to him. What if they
end up at a barbeque together or something one day? He doesn’t want to be the cantankerous,
jealous, jilted ex.

It’s not even like he and Batman ever dated!

As Clark spirals in the hallway, the assistant at the desk outside Bruce’s office clears her
throat, and offers him a reassuring smile. “Mr. Wayne is ready to see you now, Mr. Kent. The
door should be unlocked, you can head on in.”

“Right, thank you.”

When Clark opens the door, he expects Bruce to be doodling at his desk or practicing his
putting, but instead he’s holding three different phones for some unholy reason and
attempting to have three simultaneous conversations. He glances up and nods in
acknowledgement at Clark before he asks, “Did you tell him to go stick that idea back up his
ass?”

“I really don’t think that would go over well, Mr. Wayne,” says the harried sounding woman
on the other end of the corded work telephone.

“Wait, what?” asks the voice of a young man from a different phone.

“Not you, Dick. But yes, we can go to the Jump City game on Wednesday.”

“Did you just call me a dick?” asks a different man from the third phone.

“Okay, cool, thanks B! See ya, good luck with the board,” answers Dick Grayson
(presumably).

“I’ll need it,” Bruce mumbles as he hangs up that cell phone and tells the third man, “Of
course not, Ollie. Hold for a sec, would you?” He returns his attention to the first phone to
say, “You’re right, Heather, it would be irresponsible of me to put you in that position. I’ll tell
him myself.”

“I think he’d still have the same objections, sir.”

“Well, he can take it up with me, then. Be sure to tell me if he yells at you again. I’ll take him
to the cleaners if he does.”

“Will do, Mr. Wayne. I’ll have the new proposal sent over.”

“Thank you, you’re a star.” Bruce tosses that phone back on its hook and then seems to
remember that Clark is hovering around the door. Gesturing for Clark to approach, he tells
the man on his last phone, “Okay, Ollie, I hate to say this but I’ve gotta go. I’ve got a date
with the press that started a minute ago.”
“Wait, what the hell, Bruce, we didn’t even get the chance to talk!”

“I’ll call you back later! Give Dinah my love, bye bye now.”

“Bruce, you-” Bruce hangs up the call and tosses the phone at his chair without looking as he
walks around his huge desk to greet Clark with a handshake. Clark receives it, head still
spinning from the bizarre multitasking he just witnessed.

“Welcome! Not the beautiful Ms. Grant, but I know the Daily Planet when I see it.” Bruce
walks them over to the cushioned seats next to a coffee table. “Here, take a seat Kurt-”

“Kent. Clark Kent,” Clark corrects him fruitlessly, as he turns to a fresh page in his notepad.

“Oh, right. Kent, obviously. I never forget a pretty face,” Bruce says, winking. His eyes are
such a pale shade of blue. Clark wonders if Batman ever gets lost in them, or vice versa.
Bruce would know if Batman has hazel eyes. Bruce would know what color Batman’s hair is
and how it feels under his hands.

Maybe Clark’s feeling a little bitter, because he mutters, “One time you asked me four times
in one night what my name was.”

“That just means I couldn’t keep you off my mind, handsome. Anyway, sorry about that
racket just now. Let’s get down to business. You want to know about last night’s date? Stacy
Harker, wonderful woman. Let me tell you, all those rumors about her, um, ‘nimble fingers’
are true.” His use of air quotes makes Clark want to turn around and leave the room. “That's
why she runs a massage parlor, you know. You look like you could use a visit. So tense
around those broad shoulders. Want me to refer you?”

What are they even talking about? “Mr. Wayne, while that all sounds very interesting, I’m
actually here to ask you about your sponsorship of the arts in Gotham.” Bruce looks like he
wants to interrupt and sidetrack them with something pointedly inane, so Clark plows on.
“The Martha Wayne Foundation has always been a supporter of arts and arts education, but
recently, you yourself donated sizable amounts to dozens of schools across the city. Any
reason for this sudden push in donations?”

Bruce opens his mouth to reply, but for the first time, Clark can read the split second of
hesitation on his face as he tries to decide if he’s going to lie or not. Usually, he spews his
nonsense with such ease that it’s impossible to know whether or not he has any idea what
he’s saying. But just now, Clark could almost see the rapid calculations Bruce was running
behind his normally vacant eyes.

“My mother was a firm believer in the healing power of the arts,” Bruce says after another
second, and though his tone is still light and his expression genial, Clark can somehow feel
that there’s more substance behind these words than everything he was just babbling about.

“Yes, she was well-known for supporting the use of art and music therapy, wasn’t she?”

“Among other things.” There’s a slight smile on Bruce’s face, gentle and understated unlike
his normal brilliant grin, and Clark feels some of the tension in his own back lessening.
Maybe he can actually coax something meaningful out of the man for once. He could push,
but he decides to be patient and give Bruce the chance to offer the information up freely.

As expected, Bruce goes on to say, “Her birthday was two weeks ago. And Dick, my son,
told me that friends of his were going to be affected by next year’s budget proposal. All
across the district, arts and music programs were slated to be cut back, and I knew she would
certainly have had something to say about that if she were still with us. So I thought this
would be a good way to honor her memory.”

“Did you visit any of the schools, take a look at what exactly students would be missing out
on?”

“Yes, actually,” Bruce says, lighting up. “Over at Springview High, they’ve got one of the
best student orchestras in the state, did you know that? They came in second place in a recent
competition but the kids were telling me they’ve already got plans to tighten up the
performance for next semester…”

Clark hadn’t expected, when he rode over here, that he’d be spending the next thirty minutes
listening to Bruce Wayne tell him all about the student plays and pottery exhibitions he
attended across Gotham. But it’s the most enjoyable interview he’s ever had with the man,
and for this brief moment in time, he thinks he understands what it is that Batman sees in
him. When he talks about the kids, there’s a luminosity to him that far outshines the glitz that
he normally exudes in front of the cameras. His voice is dialed back from the bright,
effervescent tone he uses at his parties and fundraisers, but it isn’t muted. If anything, there’s
a passion underlying all his words. He just seems real in a way that he never has before, and
unexpectedly, the thought makes Clark’s heart skip a beat.

This is the version of you that only he gets to see.

The interview wraps up when Bruce’s assistant calls in to tell him he has a meeting to get to.
Bruce seems almost disappointed when he has to hurriedly finish his story about the student
murals being painted in all the Gotham subway stations.

“Thank you for your time today, Mr. Wayne,” Clark says with genuine feeling when Bruce
walks him to the door. “The city is lucky to have someone like you.”

“Oh, me? I’m just a guy who lives here. A rich guy, sure, but I’m nothing special.”

“Well, with both you and Batman, Gotham has a great pair of champions on her side.”

Bruce’s eyes widen at the mention of Batman, but so slightly that it would be imperceptible
to anyone but Clark. “Ha, I suppose between the two of us, she’s got a few bases covered.
Have a good evening, Kent. Let me know if you want the massage parlor vouchers.”

“I think I’ll have to pass, but I appreciate the offer.”

They shake hands again, but this time, Bruce’s pale eyes linger briefly on Clark’s face after
he lets go. The moment is dispelled when his assistant walks over to hand him a folder, and
he nods goodbye to Clark before disappearing back into his office.
Clark could save himself some time by flying back to Metropolis, but he decides to take the
train ride back so he can text Lois and digest everything about his encounter today. As he
watches the glittering lights laced through Gotham’s towering shadows fade across the dark
water, he contemplates why it feels like something in his worldview has shifted into
alignment.
 Chapter 6

Tabs @glorifiedpants

omgggg did you guys catch the interview on gotham tonight??

bruce wayne stop lying on national television about your boyfriend challenge

K @FriendlyFan1939
Replying to @glorifiedpants

🤔
I did! He really could not keep his eyes on the host when he said he was “still up for
grabs,” could he?

Why might that be, I wonder…

Tabs @glorifiedpants
Replying to @FriendlyFan1939

right??? like babe we saw that little smirk, you couldn’t even say it with a straight face

K i’m dying here for real could he be any more obvious

Zahra | bman regency zine @swordssoup

Replying to @FriendlyFan1939 and @glorifiedpants

“up for grabs” = “up for (being) grab(bed by my husband out of midair when he rescues
me from falling off a building)”

Sam 🔥 @canarysfishnets
Replying to @FriendlyFan1939 and @glorifiedpants and @swordssoup

Flawless Bruce translation as always bestie

K @FriendlyFan1939

Lessons on Chemical Bonds

The scientists at WE’s R&D department realize that one of their own knows a lot more
about their boss than expected.

Bruceman, T rating, 5k words, outsider POV, established relationship and fluff

Link below!
Mo(mo) @glubglubgrub
Replying to @FriendlyFan1939

AAAHHH IM SO EXCITED

amelia @gothamgoosecorps
Replying to @FriendlyFan1939

Saving this as a treat to read after work today!

💫 Aqua 💫 @wonderbabe231
My two faves ❤

[Two images, one of Wonder Woman leaping forward, the other of the Flash waving at
the viewer]

cheese pretzel @circus_logic

more parent trap au

[Image of a young Dick Grayson sitting on Batman’s shoulders and a young Robin
holding Bruce Wayne’s hand]

claws @birdngclaws

here and there and nowhere to go

a bruceman fic about learning to love yourself through loving someone else

🌟
🌟 T rating

🌟 sometimes home is where you choose to make it

11.3k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/0192301929

K @FriendlyFan1939

Seven Years, Thirty Six Miles, ch. 1

When Dick and Robin meet for the first time at camp, they come to the same realization:
their dads have been lying to them.
 Bruceman, T rating, 6k words

Based on @circus_logic’s Parent Trap AU! Link below!

blue @rewrapper

“shellfish intentions”

aquaman gives all his friends crabs. literally.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3495819284

cheese pretzel @circus_logic

oughoughaag quick sketch of K’s (@FriendlyFan1939) fic for parent trap au it’s so good
please read it

[Image of Dick and Robin holding two halves of a torn photograph together. In the
photograph, Bruce and a brunet man are smiling at the camera and holding twin babies.]

The next time Clark is sent to Gotham, it’s for the grand opening of a new station on the
Gotham subway, which doesn’t really feel like something he needs to be covering. However,
Cat was slated to go, so back across the water he rides. Tragically, he couldn’t even get Lois
to come with, since she was about to rake LexCorp over the coals for some falsified
emissions reports.

The station is shiny and new, but still architecturally Gotham at heart, and Clark mills around
talking to locals about their feelings on the new addition. Most are happy to be able to finally
directly transfer between the Sheal and Yellow lines, though a few others are disgruntled at
the perceived increase in traffic around the area.

Clark buys himself a hotdog after the ribbon cutting ceremony and sits on a nearby park
bench to listen to the short speeches. He’s only paying half attention to his surroundings, so
he doesn’t notice right away that there are two children standing at the base of a tree, peering
up into its leaves. He walks over, ready to offer his assistance, when he notices there’s
already somebody up there, stretching to reach a glider that got trapped among the leaves.
Somebody quickly growing familiar to him.

“Mr. Wayne,” Clark says, surprised to see Bruce up a tree. “Don’t break your neck.”
Bruce stops stretching toward the plane to blink owlishly down at Clark. “Do you greet
everyone this way?”

“Only the ones who are likely to break their necks.”

“And I’m one of those people?”

“You’re rather accident-prone. It’s public knowledge.”

“Do you always believe what the public tells you?” Bruce asks, a smirk teasing at his lips.

“When it comes to you, I’ve started to suspect that anything could be true.”

“Let’s not find out, then.”

He winks at Clark before giving another go at snagging the glider. Clark readies himself to
catch the fool, because he can still do that much without giving himself away. But Bruce
successfully grabs his prize and awkwardly shimmies back down the branch, like some kind
of oversized koala.

He hands the glider to the children, who hug his legs before running back to their
grandmother. Clark catches the surprise in his eyes when they embrace him, but he gamely
allows it before brushing himself free of dirt.

Batman really went and fell in love with a man who rescues toys and probably small animals
from trees. Of course he did.

“What brings you to our fine city today, Clerg?” Bruce asks.

“That’s not even a name,” Clark says, deeply annoyed that he’s beginning to find Bruce’s
terrible behavior charming. He taps his press badge until Bruce bends down and makes a big
show of reading it.

“My mistake, Clark. Won’t happen again, I swear. But you can’t only be here to enjoy
Gotham’s world-famous hotdogs.”

“No, though they are pretty good. I’m here for the opening of the station, as is most everyone
else, I imagine.”

“Slow news day in Metropolis?” Bruce raises an eyebrow.

“It was on Cat’s docket, so here I am, back in the-” Clark cuts himself short.

“You were going to say ‘snake pit’,” Bruce accuses.

“No!”

“Hellhole.”

“I would never.”
“Dumpster fire of the Tri-State Area.”

“Is that a thing?”

“As if you don’t know.”

Clark shrugs, admitting nothing. “I promise I would never call Gotham any of those things in
writing. Only in my head. Anyway, I figure I won’t get cursed or attacked in the short time
that I’m here to interview people about the subway.”

Bruce gives in and rewards him with a chuckle. “Alright, in order to pay your penance,
you’re going to listen to me tell you the history of the Gotham City Rail. Come.” He flicks
his hand in the direction of the shops across the street and begins walking away, completely
assured that Clark will follow him.

And damn him, he’s right. At least it might be useful for the article.

“I didn’t know CEOs knew much about public transportation,” Clark says as he jogs after
Bruce.

“A special interest, let’s call it. What young person doesn’t love trains? Over here. I’ll buy
you a coffee.”

Clark only has enough time to marvel at Bruce choosing a greasy spoon diner before they’re
seated in a booth, the young waitress blushing as she jots down Bruce’s order of two coffees
and “a slice of whatever my friend here wants”.

“Ah, I’ll try the French silk, thanks.” Clark doesn’t bother with any fruit pies besides his
ma’s. He watches as the girl writes down his order without looking away from Bruce smiling
at her. She finally flees to the kitchen, and Clark turns to Bruce in bewilderment. “Is it like
this everywhere you go?”

Bruce begins reordering the sweetener packets by color as he says, offhand, “Of course not.
Only for a few months each time I do a nude photoshoot.”

“Each time- no, never mind that, I’m here for the trains.” Clark clicks his pen and sets it to a
blank page. He’s pretty up to date on Bruce’s media hijinx, but since he’s trained himself to
mentally block out anything he would consider not safe for work, he has not been made
aware of this information. God, the number of Bruceman fics there must be about the nude
photos…no. Stop it. Get your house in order, Kent. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Bruce tucks away one last blue packet of sweetener and then launches right in. “In 1906, city
planners began discussing the idea of creating a transit system like the ones recently opened
in Boston and New York City. Given the task of connecting Gotham’s islands via public
transportation, the project began with proposed rail lines where our current Red, Orange and
White lines are…”

One slice of French silk, half a slice of coconut cream (donated by Bruce, who ordered it and
then proceeded to only eat two bites), and three cups of coffee later, Clark knows more about
the Gotham subway system than the man who’s been educating him on the subject. For the
first three minutes it was weird to hear Bruce talk so eloquently about something that wasn’t
children, but once Clark eased into asking questions, the topic was oddly fascinating.

“So would you consider the new station a correction to an oversight?” he asks as he waves
down their waitress for the check.

“Oversight…no, I think that’s too harsh a word, given that the original tracks were laid back
in 1921, but I do think the expansion was several decades overdue.”

“Fair. I bet it’ll see a lot of use. We’re ready for the check, miss,” Clark tells the waitress
when she walks over.

“Oh, it’s already been paid for, sir,” she says. “Thanks so much for the generous tip, Mr.
Wayne. You two have a good afternoon now.” She ducks her head shyly and scurries off to
take another customer’s order.

“Hey,” Clark complains, still holding his wallet open like an idiot.

“I did say I was buying,” Bruce laughs.

“Yes, but- I didn’t even see you pay! You never got out of your seat!”

“Call it a home turf advantage. Look, if you’re really so pressed about it, you can buy me a
drink the next time I’m in Metropolis. Or set me up on a blind date with Ms. Lane. Your
choice.”

“It’s going to have to be drinks because the latter won’t end well for either of us.”

“Drinks it is,” Bruce says cheerfully as they exit the diner. “You better be getting back before
you get cursed, Clam.”

“Well, now I know you’re doing it on purpose.”

“Haven’t any idea what you’re talking about. Get home safe!” With a genial pat to Clark’s
shoulder, Bruce walks off, leaving Clark alone to consider what he actually, truly knows
about this enigma of a man.

At every encounter, he learns just a little bit more about the real person underneath what he’s
certain now is a facade. Just enough to understand that most of what the public assumes to
know about him is intentionally cultivated. As a reporter, it itches at his curiosity. As a
Bruceman writer, it opens up for him a whole world of possibilities to work with. Most of his
cohorts already assumed that there was a more serious side to Bruce that only Batman saw,
and Clark is slowly gathering evidence that the theory is true.

But what intrigues him most, at the moment, is why he’s been allowed to see past the mask.
What does Bruce gain from letting in Mr. Nobody Reporter from Smallville?
After a few weeks on social media, Clark feels more connected to the Bruceman fandom than
ever. He feels more knowledgeable about fan communities as a whole. It’s been a fun
learning experience, for the most part.

The Justice League fandom is huge, from the transformative side to the casual fans to the fans
who like discussing power levels and documenting all their battles. Clark doesn’t often
wander into that territory because it’s too large for him, though he does like reblogging cool
fanart of his friends. But by virtue of being a Bruceman fan, he’s come to know the various
other branches of Batman’s fandom due to overlapping interests and internet algorithms and
all that. He’s even poked around in the other Batman tags on AO3, just to see what’s
happening in those corners.

There are several main factions, some of which get along better than others. Bruceman, of
course, is Clark’s domain. Then there are the gen writers, who forgo romance and like to
imagine adventures of the dark knight and his trusty sidekick or his superpowered friends.

The Batman x Reader fans are a subsection that tend to stick to themselves. Clark tries not to
venture into that zone. It feels…illicit for some reason. He doesn’t fault them for their
understandable fantasies, but he wishes they’d tag their content better.

The BatRogue enjoyers are a controversial group to some outside their ranks, but Clark can
see the basis of their ships. It’s in the nature of being a superhero to have some weird
nemeses who wind up obsessed with you. Batman sure has plenty. BatRogue writers don’t
usually intentionally stir up trouble, being more likely to be targeted by other Batman fans
while minding their own business.

Batman is also paired with various members of the League, though the number of fans varies
by ship. Batman/Wonder Woman is fairly popular, and many people agree that
Batman/Martian Manhunter is delightful. Clark doesn’t read any of the fic, but he’ll give a
like on occasion to some G-rated fanart.

Lastly, there are the Superbat fans.

They’re…a handful. While technically a subsection of the previous group of fans, their sheer
numbers amplify their voice online to terrifying levels. Through no action of his own, Clark
has been subjected to meta and fanart and fanvids and tumblr fic all about Superman and
Batman’s love story, despite all the keywords and tags he’s tried to mute and block. The
World’s Finest are inescapable.

The desire to raise his fist to the sky and yell that it’s all based on delusion is strong,
especially when he sees Superbats picking a fight with Brucemans. Maybe Clark is biased,
but Superbat really doesn’t have much more “canon” evidence than Bruceman does, and even
if it did, that’s no reason to go rain on someone else’s parade. But, as he always reminds his
fellow fans, they shouldn’t rise to the taunts of people who just want to cause a stink, nor
retaliate and make their own fandom look bad.

It’s best to just ignore, ship, and let ship.

That being said, Clark really wishes he could better avoid all that content reminding him of
what he’ll never have.

Not too long after Bruce’s latest interview on Gotham Tonight, Clark is scrolling through his
timeline when he notices a trending hashtag that causes his heart to lurch in alarm.

#SuperBatDateNight?

With great trepidation in his heart, he clicks.

The top result is a short clip. It’s a slightly blurry camera video of Batman, Robin, and
himself, standing in an alleyway and eating ice cream together. The video is no more than
forty seconds long, but it’s clear enough for any viewer to see Robin hanging from
Superman’s shoulders, reaching over him to scoop a bite from the large container in
Superman’s hands. Batman and Superman are engaged in an inaudible conversation that ends
in Batman plucking the cherry from the sundae and dropping it into Superman’s spoon. The
video cuts out right after it captures Superman’s — Clark’s — stupid, stupid smile.

A deep, hungry sense of dread fills Clark’s chest.

This is very, very bad.

He begins scrolling through the other posts in the tag and is immediately beset on all sides by
Superbat.

Lu @tmppnm

HE GAVE SUPERMAN THE CHERRY

TJ who wants a burrito @metropolickthis

Replying to @tmppnm

more like he gave superman HIS cherry amirite 🍒🍒🍒

Lu @tmppnm
Replying to @metropolickthis

TJ oh my god

adventuring @midtowntaxi

ice cream date ice cream date ice cream date I AM LOSING MY SHIT
Nia M. @regretingotham

I think I’m going feral. How dare they do this in public.

Cory @winters9160

they really r robin’s 2 dads huh

superbatforever @superbat4ever

💅
While your man was talking about how single he was, my man was on a date with
Batman

cali @souperbats
Replying to @superbat4ever

omg you didn’t 😂😂

SB summer wedding week! @worldsfirmest

supes really looks at bats like he’s the light of his life 🥺
Yan @huckleberryquin
Replying to @worldsfirmest

I mean wouldn’t you???

luke @ metropolicon 7/12 @napprotocol

how to get superbat to adopt me too

jones @bat_hairdryer
Replying to @napprotocol

get good at acrobatics and justice

cali @souperbats

can you believe that sharing food is batman’s love language…i love him
 🥖🥖 @baguetteman
Replying to @souperbats

the way he so casually hands it over!!!

adventuring @midtowntaxi
Replying to @souperbats

I am seriously having a breakdown how can two six foot something stacks of beef be so
cute??

blimp problems @cactusp6

Replying to @souperbats

love is REAL and stored in the world’s finest

Clark has to shut his laptop to spare himself from any further suffering. The situation is out of
control. The Superbat menace cannot be contained. It’s not like Clark can have the video
removed; too many copies have already been made. All he can hope for is that it’ll blow over
soon.

Superman can’t let this happen again. For too many reasons.

After the League sends a slime warlock back to his slime dimension, Clark has to take some
time to clean off his suit. No way is he tracking glop back to his apartment to ruin his poor
furniture.

He kind of assumes that everyone will have dispersed by the time he exits the shower area, so
he’s only slightly surprised when he sees Batman leaving the computer lab.

“Oh, good, Superman,” he says when he spots Clark. “I’m about to go take a look at some of
the Watchtower components if you’d like to come along and make sure you’ll be able to
carry them into space.”

The tiny smirk on his face has Clark grinning back. “Casting aspersions on my strength, B?”

“On your grip. You’ve dropped me at least two times in the last year.”

“Hold on now, the first time was a tactical move and I caught you less than five seconds later.
And the second time you told me to let you go!”

“And you listened? Miracles do exist.”

“Any more complaints and I’m going to cradle you like a baby the next time.”

Clark can practically feel Batman raising his brows behind the cowl. “That would be a very
strategically unsound decision.”

“I’ll hold you by one ankle then. The great Batman can handle flying upside-down, right?”

“As long as you don’t use me as a flail to hit our enemies.”

“I’ll try, but no promises. It could be a good scare tactic.”

“My specialty,” Batman says. He begins walking toward the doors and Clark falls into step
with him. “You can ride in the Batmobile if you sit on your hands and promise not to touch
anything.”

Clark is about to agree but then he stops and thinks about the offer. Who’s constructing the
Watchtower? Wayne Enterprises has to be involved in some way. Is that where Batman is
going? A WE lab?

Is Bruce going to be there? Is…is Clark going to see him interacting with Batman?

Rao, he might get to see them talking to each other. They might even shake hands. Stare
soulfully at one another as they pretend only to be a hero and his generous backer.

Clark feels his pulse pick up. He hasn’t readied his heart for irrefutable proof that his OTP is
canon.

But he promised himself not even a few days ago not to be caught in public with Batman
outside work. If they’re seen together again so soon…

And in the presence of Bruce? It would be a category five shitshow. FriendlyFan is not
prepared to field that kind of nonsense at the moment.

He shouldn’t go. It would just be better for everyone involved.

“Sorry, Batman, I’d like to but it’s just…not a good time right now.” He gestures aimlessly in
some direction, trying to indicate “rescues needed elsewhere.”

Batman’s stride breaks. “Superman never rests. Another time,” he says, nodding, but he
doesn’t continue toward the Batmobile right away, and Clark aches to recant his words and
tell Batman he’d like to come after all.

He settles for a compromise.

“By the way, would you like to come to the Fortress some time? Help me sort out more of
those Kryptonian botany files?” No one should be able to bother them up in the Arctic. It
would just be Superman and Batman spending quality time together. Just like the old days.

Clark can see the set of Batman’s shoulders relax minutely. “We never did finish cataloging
all of them. Let me know the next time you’re up there.”
“Will do. Good luck at the lab.”

Clark takes off toward the nearest cry for help, desperate to make good on his excuse to
occupy his mind for the next three hours. Or as long as it takes for him to overcome the
twinge in his heart he’s beginning to feel every time he has to leave his best friend.
 Chapter 7
Chapter Notes

Let's see how Batman is doing!

(Hint: he's as stupid as his boyfriend is, so probably not well.)

There must be something leaking into the Metropolis water, because everyone in the damn
city has been acting strangely. Well, two people. And one of them has an excuse, because
Bruce knows it’s his fault. He isn’t aware of the specifics of what he did to cause Kal to pull
away from him, but he knows the root cause.

Prior to recent events, Bruce thought that he and Kal were closer than ever. Possibly even
circling a development in their relationship that he thought was based on mutual feelings.

But now, with Kal putting distance between them, both physically and socially, it’s become
obvious that Bruce’s own hints at affection have scared him off. He never should have
assumed that Kal felt anything for him other than friendship. There was nothing in his
behavior that was necessarily more than platonic; it was just Bruce’s wishful thinking letting
him read too much into how Kal’s actions sometimes mirrored Bruce’s own smitten ones.

But it was all clearly just a flight of fancy invented by Bruce’s own skewed worldview. Of
course Kal doesn’t feel the same way. Why would he?

It’s for the best that he doesn’t. Every time Bruce has let his feelings for someone grow into a
relationship, it’s always ended in spectacular failure.

Shutting it down before it can begin has probably saved him a lot of trouble and heartache.
Bruce will try to correct his own behavior so that Kal can see that he’s trying to move on.
They can return to the way they used to be.

His other Metropolitan problem is actually maybe his fault as well.

Bruce was aware that Clark Kent didn’t like him, which was fine and functional. It’s easier
for Bruce to control the narrative when the press doesn’t think too highly of him nor look too
closely at his actions. But recently, Clark’s involuntary stint in Gotham has shown Bruce that
maybe a grudging kind of respect has taken root in him, which is bizarre and bad. He’d
trapped the man in a long conversation about the transit system (fun for Bruce but rarely of
any interest to his audience) in an attempt to rectify any good feelings that their previous
interview might have instilled. Instead, Clark listened attentively, asking smart questions and
entertaining Bruce’s many tangents, and left looking even more tolerant of Bruce than ever.
Bruce is hoping that continued exposure will wear him back down, as it does to Lois Lane,
but he’s not so sure, when he sees Clark again at the Gotham summer festival. Bruce is here
as a sponsor, which means he mostly just has to wander around and talk to people while kids
play games and families enjoy free lunch and refreshments. Dick is off somewhere in the
crowd with his friends, so Bruce has been lounging by the play fountain, enjoying a popsicle
and watching people run in and out of the water spray.

Some folks have recognized him, but in his sunglasses and without a posse of press or
sycophants hanging around, he gets to be more incognito than usual since this isn’t the kind
of event populated by people who want things from him.

Through the crowd, he sees a familiar figure interviewing a group of children, and he takes
the chance to spy. For a very large man, Clark sure carries himself like he’s half his actual
size. He doesn’t walk with any of the weight or bravado that a man his height and build
usually does, somehow managing to slip through clusters of people with ease. Even in this
heat he’s wearing a hideous and oversized suit; Bruce is getting hot just looking at him.

Bruce needs to figure out how to get him out of Gotham. An interaction once a year is fine,
but Clark and Lois are both too sharp for their own good, and not easily distracted like Cat is.
Clark’s tolerance for Brucie’s nonsense is too high, unlike Lois, who visibly develops a
headache after 15 minutes in his presence.

While Bruce contemplates ways to scare Clark out of his town, the man in question spots him
and trots over. Bruce sucks even harder at his popsicle as he decides whether he should try
avoidance tactics or double down on being really fucking annoying. Clark arrives before he
can escape, so annoying it is.

“Enjoying the festivities, Mr. Wayne?” Clark greets, his eyes falling down to Bruce’s mouth.
Hm.

Bruce releases his icy treat with a somewhat obscene pop of his lips. “Please, Cliff, call me
Bruce.”

“I think I’ll pass.” He stares at Bruce for another moment, and then laughs quietly. “Sorry, it’s
just- your mouth is bright green. Here.” He pulls a packet of wet wipes out of his pocket and
hands Bruce one. It would be wasteful not to accept it, so Bruce strips the wooden stick of
any remaining popsicle in one go and then dabs his mouth as clean as he can.

“Better?”

“For the most part.”

“Have you tried any games yet?” Bruce asks when Clark sits down on the bench beside him.
Some one-on-one time together should do the trick. “Win any prizes?”

“Oh, no, I’ve been busy with interviews.”

“Well, you’ve gotta play something before you go. Otherwise, what are you even reporting
on?”
“Usually how the actual attendees feel about the event.”

“You’re an attendee too,” Bruce says. “How about this? Let’s have a little competition, you
and I. Whoever wins more games gets to make a request of the loser.”

Clark looks worried. “These terms seem a little broad.”

“It won’t be anything too awful. I’ll even tell you my terms now. If I win, you have to switch
assignments with Ms. Lane next time you’re due in Gotham.”

“You really like Lois, huh?” Clark asks, the corner of his mouth curving in amusement, as if
he doesn’t quite believe it. Bruce is probably coming off as kind of a pushy asshole here, but
if that’s off-putting to Clark, then good. And if he wins, even better. Bruce can count on Lois
not to be too flattering nor stick around too long.

“What can I say, I like the clever ones. Reporters, especially.”

Clark laughs as they begin walking over to the nearest carnival game. “I feel like I have
enough evidence to the contrary not to believe you.”

“Alright, you got me. I’m extremely shallow, and she’s just my type. Dark hair, good scowl,”
he clarifies when Clark looks quizzically at him.

“Huh,” Clark says, something like realization dawning in his eyes. “That is accurate, isn’t it?
Okay, if you win, I’ll get Lo to swap with me — just once. But no promises that she won’t
avoid you the entire time she’s here. Honestly, you might not even know she’s here.”

“I can handle that part,” Bruce says dismissively before leading Clark over to a balloon
popping game. “Alright, Kent, let’s see what you’ve got.”

“Thank you,” Clark says to the young man running the stand. “Okey dokey, it’s been awhile,
but…” He takes his three darts and proceeds, one after the other, to miss every shot.

“You’re terrible,” Bruce marvels. “A six year old could’ve done better.”

“I was close on that last one!”

“Close to putting out someone’s eye. Here, give me your hand.” Bruce acquires another three
darts and positions himself next to Clark so he can hold his arm in place. “Make your stance
match mine. Hips and shoulders straight. Don’t grip too hard, ninety degree angle with your
arm like so.” He pushes and prods Clark into a proper dart-throwing stance, and then
carefully holds his hand to show him how to aim. “Snap your wrist and follow through,
okay? Annnd there!”

The dart sails into a blue balloon, resulting in a satisfying pop.

Bruce slaps Clark on the shoulder and hands him another dart. “Now on your own.”

Clark, following Bruce’s instructions, manages to hit two more balloons, and earns himself a
stuffed monkey, which he hands off to the boy who was watching from the sidelines.
“You’re a pretty good teacher,” he says, leaning against the counter to watch Bruce snipe
three balloons without trouble.

“It helps to have a willing student, which is why I’ll give you the tie in your favor.” Bruce
chooses a stuffed tiger, which he offers a young mother for her toddler. “Though,” he
continues as they walk to the next booth, “you need to loosen up your posture. Standing stick
stiff when you throw doesn’t give you a full range of motion. Next time you’re in a bar, give
it some practice. Diligence and perseverance is the only way to improve.”

Clark makes a huff of noise, and when Bruce glances over at him, he’s pretty clearly trying to
hide a smile. “What?”

“Nothing, you just reminded me of a friend of mine just now,” Clark says. Behind his glasses,
his eyes are crinkled in amusement, watching Bruce almost fondly, which is absolutely the
last thing Bruce needs. It seems like spending time with Clark consistently has the opposite
of his intended effect. He ought to cut and run before he makes things even worse.

“Here, have a pretzel,” Bruce says, snagging one coated in cinnamon sugar as they pass the
cart and thrusting it at Clark. The best distraction would be to have someone come interrupt
them and drag Bruce away. Where’s Dick?

“Oh, thanks!” Clark says.

Dick is in the bounce house, busy showing off his flips to a starry-eyed little boy with a
camera, so Bruce turns back to Clark, who’s happily munching away on his soft pretzel. No
luck; he’ll just have to be extra obnoxious at their next game.

“My favorite flavor, too. Would you like a bite?”

“No thanks, I’m trying to cut carbs these days. Let’s see if you’re better at throwing rings
than darts.”

“Sure, but I have to warn you, I used to play this one a lot at the country fair back home-”
Clark cuts himself off suddenly, his expression smoothing into an alert kind of blankness that
makes Bruce feel unbalanced. It flits away just as quickly, an apologetic smile back on
Clark’s face when he says, “Sorry, Mr. Wayne, I just realized there was somebody I forgot I
needed to talk to. I better catch her before she leaves for the day. Thank you again for the
pretzel.” He grips it tight in his hand as he hurries off into the crowd, back toward the
entrance of the festival. Bruce watches him go, knowing that there was nothing inherently
wrong about what Clark just said, but feeling suspicious nonetheless.

That was strange. Clark is a little bit strange in general, and Bruce is starting to suspect that
isn’t just his paranoia talking. It must be the reason that he’s been on Bruce’s mind so much
recently. It’s probably also the reason his attitude toward Bruce is becoming more positive
over time.

So, the question is whether Clark is just an odd duck, or if he’s got a deeper secret. What
might he be hiding?
Clark Joseph Kent. Reporter at the Daily Planet, raised in Smallville, Kansas by adoptive
parents. Went to university for journalism and made his home in Metropolis. Known as one
of Superman’s press liaisons, though much less frequently than the renowned Lois Lane. This
is all information Bruce already knows, so he starts digging deeper. School transcripts, bank
statements, articles — he pulls it all up and begins searching for anything that might tip him
off about what Clark’s deal is.

“Why’re you cyber-stalking a reporter?” Dick asks, resting an elbow on Bruce’s shoulder to
look up at the Batcomputer.

“I’m not stalking him, I’m researching. Doing a background check.”

“Wait, is this the guy you have a crush on? The hunky one with the glasses!”

“I don’t- you’ve been watching too many teen dramas with your friends,” Bruce says, turning
to give Dick a flat look. “Or conflating your own problems with mine. How did your talk
with Starfire go?”

“Nuh-uh, don’t think you can weasel out of this by turning things back on me,” Dick scolds,
hopping up to sit on a clear section of the desk. “I saw you two at the summer festival the
other day. You were smiling at him for real. An honest to goodness ‘I can’t believe I find you
charming’ smile. You like him,” he accuses gleefully.

“I can assure you that I don’t.”

“You don’t not,” Dick counters, and Bruce acquiesces with a sigh.

“Fine. He’s tolerable. Competent. Good face.”

“You should date him!”

“Why on earth would I do that.”

“Don’t be afraid to fall in love, B,” Dick says sagely. “Besides, none of your other choices
are working out. Your thing with Catwoman isn’t going anywhere. You and Talia like
knowing you used to be a couple more than you guys actually want to get back together. Mr.
Dent has too much on his plate with Two-Face to give it another go. You broke up with that
one guy so hard you won’t even tell me about him. And, worst of all, you’re too scared to ask
Superman out-”

“I’m not scared,” Bruce scowls, falling into the world’s easiest trap.

“-because you don’t want to ‘compromise the integrity of the team,’ and ‘jeopardize our
friendship’,” Dick says with strong air-quotes. “So you should try and date this reporter guy!
Way less pressure.”
“I don’t even know anything about this ‘reporter guy’. I’m not going to date a total stranger.”

Dick peers over at the social media accounts and financial information that Bruce is scrolling
through. “You probably know more about him than his own mom does. And he’s not a
stranger; you’ve talked to him like a dozen times. Look, just confirm he’s not a serial killer
and then ask him out for coffee!”

Bruce decides it’s best not to mention that he’s already had coffee with Clark. He doesn’t
know why Dick is so fixated on setting him up with any random person when he’s been
trying to pull the strings toward Bruce and Kal getting together for years. It must be a feint.
Clark Kent might have a nice smile and a good sense of humor and a sharp mind but
appreciating those qualities doesn’t require dating the man. Dick probably just wants Bruce
to realize that no one else is going to measure up to Kal so he can force his hand. Devious
child.

Too bad for him the most that Superman and Batman will ever be is best friends.

“He’s unlikely to be a serial killer, but I do think he’s hiding something.”

“Everyone has secrets. If his aren’t too weird, you should go for it.”

“Hmm.”

“That’s basically a yes,” Dick mumbles smugly to himself.

Bruce continues searching Clark’s history while occasionally helping Dick with math. He’s
just hit upon some private social media accounts that aren’t publicly connected to Clark’s
name when Dick asks him to check his work.

They go over Dick’s calculations to make sure he didn’t make any careless errors, and Bruce
gives him an approving pat on the back before he returns to his screen and then chokes on his
own spit at what he sees there. Dick notices the noise, and glances up. A high-pitched cackle
erupts from his mouth as he sees the same image that almost killed Bruce just now.

There, on Clark Kent’s secret Tumblr account, is a large, full-color illustration of Bruce
Wayne and Batman engaged in a passionate kiss. The cape swirls dramatically around them
as Bruce is dipped backward, his arms wrapped around Batman’s neck. The Gotham
backdrop is misty and romantic, lending an amorous atmosphere to the whole picture.

“Holy shit, Batman.”

“Dick.”

“Holy fanart, Batman!”

“Dick.”

Bruce feels like his soul is dribbling out of his mouth. With a tenuous hand, he scrolls a little
further down as Dick bounces on his heels beside him.
Image of Batman swinging from a building, Bruce held securely in his manly arms. Image of
Bruce seated on the floor of an imagining of the Manor sitting room, a man lying with his
head in Bruce’s lap, his shadow casting a bat-like shape. Text post about what Bruce and
Batman’s wedding decor would look like. Text post about Green Lantern’s new haircut.
Image of Martian Manhunter officiating Bruce and Batman’s wedding, with the whole Justice
League in attendance. Link to a fanfiction about Bruce and Batman’s honeymoon turned into
a survival trip against an attack by people who live underground. Image of a younger Batman
and Bruce sharing an innocent kiss.

Bruce stops scrolling.

Dick clicks his tongue. “How can he be a Bruceman fan when he’s from Metropolis?! He’s
Superman’s friend and everything; he should be supporting Superbat. Traitor.”

Trust Dick to be caught up on that detail and not the rest of whatever the hell this is.

This is not what Bruce was expecting. In fact, he can’t even remember what he was
expecting, all thoughts having been obliterated from his brain after seeing the fanart of him
making out with himself.

What does it mean? Why would Clark have an account just for Bruceman?

Like Dick mentioned, Bruceman is usually a phenomenon restricted only to Gothamites. The
complicated overlapping feelings that the city has about him plus the scraps of evidence
linking his identities have morphed into the “open secret” of Bruce and Batman being lovers.
Bruce walks a careful tightrope of allowing Bruceman to thrive without overtly supporting it
so people don’t go digging deep enough that he has to interfere. But it’s rare for anyone
outside the city to care about Bruceman.

He clicks over to Clark’s alternate Twitter account and finds more of the same. Bruceman art,
tweets, fanfiction, fancams, conspiracy discussions with other fans. Links to Clark’s own
Bruceman fics, if Bruce isn’t mistaken.

None of the accounts are more than half a year old. This foray into Bruceman fandom is a
recent change. What caused it?

As Dick happily continues perusing Clark’s Bruceman collection, Bruce sits back in his chair
to think about what might have triggered this. Clark and Lois had caught him right before the
aerospace press conference. He spoke with them briefly, but not about anything of
importance. Did Clark just spontaneously decide to support Batman and Bruce Wayne as a
couple?

Or is it some kind of sick game? Some way of toying with Bruce, of telling him he knows
Bruce’s secret?

He needs to find out more. It’s time for some undercover work.

“Oh, it’s getting a little spicy,” Dick says, pointing at a picture of Bruce undoing the batsuit.
Bruce nudges him out of the way to close the tab before they come upon anything worse.
“I…need time to restrategize.”

“Then you may as well come eat dinner first,” Alfred says from above them. “You can
continue cyber-stalking the press later.”

“It’s not cyber-” Bruce gives up, his spirit shaken by today’s discovery. “We’ll be right up.”

He’s going to need to insert himself into the Bruceman community to get close to Clark and
figure out what his game is. Given his set of skills, his best bet is to establish himself as a
Bruceman fanartist; it’ll give him an excuse to start a conversation with FriendlyFan under
the pretense of an artist reaching out to an author he admires.

“You need to either make him hotter or cuter,” Dick declares. He flips through the six pages
of Bruceman fanart in Bruce’s sketchbook, making critical noises.

“What’s wrong with him?” Bruce asks, frowning. He thought his Batman design was good.

“B, he’s way too emo. Why would Brucie Wayne date this wet raccoon man? And the color
palette is kinda boring. You shouldn’t give him black hair too- make him blond or something.
Or, oh! Give him silver hair!”

“Why would Batman have silver hair?”

“All the best broody and tortured guys do! Haven’t you ever watched any anime?”

“Forget this, I’m just going to follow Kent’s lead,” Bruce growls, scooping up his sketchbook
and stalking back to the Batcomputer. “Go do your homework.”

“But I wanna help!”

“You can help with the Mr. Freeze case, or the Penguin situation. The Kent problem isn’t
something I want you getting mixed up in.”

“Aw, why not? I’m pretty good with computers too, you know.”

“Do you really want to take the chance of accidentally running into explicit fanart of Bruce
Wayne and Batman engaging in intercourse?”

“Okay, yeah, good point,” Dick says, making a face. “I’ll take Mr. Freeze.”

“Homework first, chum. You know the rules.”

“Fine, but I’m snagging the extra cookie tonight.”

Bruce waits until he’s sure Dick has gone back upstairs to the manor before he takes a slow
breath and pulls up Archive Of Our Own. Alright.

He searches up Clark’s profile and clicks on the most recent fic. They’re all G and T rated,
thank goodness. He doesn’t know what he would do if Clark was writing porn about him
fucking himself.

This fic is about a kidnapping scare causing Batman and Bruce Wayne to confess their
feelings to one another after years of mutual pining. Bruce finds himself more engrossed than
he expected, despite one of his identities now being named Tom. Mostly, he thinks Clark
does an excellent job capturing the heartache of being in love with a long time platonic
partner, and caught between wanting the best for them and hoping desperately that there
might be some miniscule possibility that they love you back. He leaves an anonymous
comment under the screen name he decided on earlier, and then returns to his sketchbook.

Clark writes Batman pretty consistently as having brown hair and hazel eyes, which Bruce
will go with when he’s illustrating something from one of Clark’s stories.

But he can’t have all his art be fanart of Clark’s work; that would be too obvious. He needs
some other art to post too.

First he quickly sketches up himself as Bruce, reducing his muscle mass and giving himself a
sweet but slightly vacant expression. Good. He fills in a generic looking CEO’s office as the
background, and then gets to drawing the batsuit without a head.

If Dick doesn’t like this “emo” Batman, then Bruce will switch it up. Instead of a sad stare,
maybe Batman can smile when the cowl is off. Swap out the long, black hair for sweeping
curls instead, strong jaw, dark brows, a dimple in the chin…

Fuck, he’s just doodling Kal.

Bruce rips that page out with the intent to crumple it up and throw it away, but can’t bring
himself to destroy it. With a sigh, he places it at the bottom of a stack of files he has yet to put
away.

The Batman design can wait. For now, he’ll go ahead with his plan and draw something to
grab Clark’s attention.

Batfan @shadowscribble

#Bruceman fanart for “An Eternity ‘Til Now” by @FriendlyFan1939

[Image of Batman, cowl off, kneeling in front of Bruce, whose hands are bound
together. He and Bruce are looking at each other with deep affection obvious on their
faces.]
 Chapter 8
Chapter Notes

One last complication before the house of cards begins to collapse :]

In the span of three days, two very exciting events happen in Clark’s fandom life. The first is
that he gets his first commission for a story, which is a huge milestone. He hasn’t been
writing for very long, so he wasn’t sure if he would get any takers when he put his
commission information out there, but an acquaintance in the Bruceman circle messaged him
soon after his announcement.

He’s put his other WIPs on pause for the moment to give his commission fic his full
attention. It makes him glad that he was never the type to stick to an update schedule, or the
readers of his parent trap AU might start clamoring in the comments.

The other wonderful thing to happen is that Clark has received his first unsolicited fanart. His
friend Pretz has drawn art of his fic before, but that’s because he’s writing a story based on
her AU in the first place. But shadowscribble, his new favorite person, went out of his way to
draw something for Clark because he felt inspired by Clark’s words! Can there be any feeling
as exhilarating as this?!

Clark immediately reached out in thanks, and started a conversation over DMs with Shadow
that’s been going for a few days now.

FriendlyFan1939: I updated my fic to include a link to your art! I still can’t believe it! I feel
like I’m in a fever dream.

shadowscribble: your fic really inspired me ^.^

FriendlyFan1939: I think that’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me 🥺
FriendlyFan1939: I like your latest sketches! I’m really excited to see how they turn out.

shadowscribble: thank you! i’m still trying to settle on a batman design i really like u_u

FriendlyFan1939: It’s okay if it takes some experimenting before you find the right look!

shadowscribble: you’re right

shadowscribble: i’m still really new to the fandom and drawing in general
shadowscribble: can i ask how you got into bruceman

FriendlyFan1939: Of course! I’m always happy to talk about them! 😊

FriendlyFan1939: Honestly, the story isn’t that interesting, though.

FriendlyFan1939: Batman has always been my favorite hero (yes, even though I’m from
Metropolis 😅) and one day I accidentally went down the Bruceman rabbit hole while I was
doing some research for my job. I saw all the evidence and the interviews and it really
convinced me.

FriendlyFan1939: I just really want Batman to be happy, you know? And it became
increasingly obvious that Bruce is the best person for that job. They just understand each
other in a way that no one else does. ❤

shadowscribble: that’s so sweet

FriendlyFan1939: What about you?

shadowscribble: oh well i’m from gotham so i guess bruceman just felt right

shadowscribble: it is kind of funny that you like batman so much but i guess i’m in the same
boat since superman is my favorite

FriendlyFan1939: Haha, it’s like we switched cities!

FriendlyFan1939: Would you like to join the Bruceman discord server? It might be a little
scary to try and meet new people in fandom at first, but everyone there is really nice!

shadowscribble: ^.^ sure that sounds fun!

FriendlyFan1939: Great! I’ll send a link right over.

After Clark finishes his first comm, he opens his slots right back up so he can finally fill his
microwave fund. He’s been eating all his leftovers cold until now, and gotten sort of used to
it, but he’d like to finally fix that. He only takes one or two at a time so that he can still
concentrate on his own writing projects, as well as his secret gift fic for Shadow as thanks for
the fanart. Clark is thinking of doing a cute little fic where Bruce and Batman argue like an
old married couple. Or maybe something a little more angsty; he hasn’t decided yet.

Shadow’s settled on his Batman design, going with strawberry blond and green eyes, and has
drawn some fanart for the other Leaguers too. Clark retweets all of them, even the Superman
one, because it would be a little weird to leave only himself out.
When he first sees Shadow’s Superman art, he’s a little taken aback by how…loving the
whole composition is. Shadow’s other art pieces are just as detailed and richly colored, but
there’s something almost ardent about the way Superman is kissed by the rays of the sun, his
skin glowing and his blue eyes twinkling with humor. The perfect curl of his hair, the way his
cape ripples against the backdrop of a distant Earth, the obvious fondness on his face as he
looks at the viewer.

Clark is flattered, as he always is by Superman fanart, but he also feels a little bit wistful. He
wishes he could truly be as known as this piece makes him feel. It’s really a testament to
Shadow’s ability that it’s eliciting this much emotion.

Shadow did say his favorite was Superman, after all.

If only someone else also felt the same way.

“Which still doesn’t explain what you were thinking!” Batman had to turn away, too
incensed by Bruce’s cavalier attitude to keep looking at him. Bruce wanted to grab
Batman’s hand, pull him back and show him that he would end up perfectly intact, but
he was still strapped to the medical bed, his flesh gelling back together. He tried to use
his eyes to plead his case to Superman, but only received a helpless shrug in return, and
a mouthed, “Try to tell him!”

“I was thinking that I didn’t want you to get disemboweled!” Bruce said, and Batman
whirled around in a rage, his torn cape fluttering behind him in a furious shadow. Bruce
barely registered the sight of Superman fleeing the room as Batman advanced toward
him in a dark storm of motion.

“It’s not your job to protect me! You weren’t even supposed to be there, I told you to
stay on the satellite-”

“How could I do that when your life was at stake? You forget that I’m superpowered
right now,” Bruce argued. “I knew I couldn’t be harmed, so it’s only natural that I
stepped in to save you.”

Even with the cowl guarding his eyes, Bruce could feel the anguish in Batman’s heart.
“But what if you weren’t? What if the magic had worn off, or it didn’t actually work the
way we thought it did? You would have died, Bruce. You’re a civilian! You’re human.
You’re soft and breakable and irreplaceable— what would I have done if I’d lost you?”
His voice softened from its growl into the desperate whisper that only Bruce knew.

Bruce felt his frustration give way to empathy, and he reached out to take Batman’s
gloved hand in his. “Can’t you see that this is a question I ask myself every day? You’re
human too, no matter what mysteries you wrap yourself in. Don’t you think it tears me
up inside every time I watch you disappear into the dark, knowing that it might finally
 be the night that Gotham steals you from me forever? Don’t you think your friends
worry whenever they see you battling creatures twice your size and strength with only
your wits and years of training? You’re right, I could have died. But what you’re feeling
right now is how I feel about you all the time.

“And some days it kills me to know that no matter how much I worry, I could never ask
you to stop. I know what it means to you. I know you have a duty, not only to our city,
but to the entire planet. And I know that no matter how much I love you, because I love
you, I need to trust that one day, you’ll know when to stop. One day, you can finally rest,
and just be with me.”

Batman’s other hand moved to cup Bruce’s face, his thumb brushing softly against
Bruce’s cheek.

“And if that day is farther in the future than even you can stand?”

“I can wait as long as I need to. Don’t forget that you and I serve the same liege. We
can’t give up hope that she won’t need us one day.”

“It’s a good thing we’re both very experienced at holding onto hope.”

Two hours into their flora categorization endeavor, Batman is still going strong.

“Lantern mentioned seeing something like this before,” he says as he makes another sidenote.
“I’ll cross-reference his reports later and add any relevant information.” Diligently, he moves
onto the next file, and begins reading with interest.

Clark, meanwhile, is doing nothing of use. This activity was a pretense to have reason to
hang out with Batman in private, but it isn’t as if they can both use the Fortress system at the
same time, so Clark’s just talking to Batman while touching up one of his Martian landscape
paintings again. He wonders if he can get good enough at painting to do a little fanart of his
own. But given his good luck with commissions right now, he should probably just focus on
writing.

“Look, Kal,” Batman calls, so Clark flies back down to land at his side. “This one has
developed a method of shedding teeth much like sharks do.”

“Let’s hope that Ivy never gets her hands on a sample.”

“Ha. I would have to develop a new repellant spray.”

“Don’t pretend that you wouldn’t have a grand old time doing so.”

Batman just smirks instead of answering, and returns to reading about the shark plants of
Tamaran. Clark just stands behind him for a bit, and the warm tide of affection that fills him
at the sight of Batman doing something as mundane as tapping his fingers against the
tabletop while he reads confirms his worst fear.

This isn’t just an infatuation.

Clark is, with his whole heart and soul, in love with Batman. He’s in love with his best friend,
and has been for longer than he would like to admit. But now, faced with this truth, he knows
what he has to do.

He has to move on. It’s time to let Batman go, for the sake of their friendship.

Clark knows it isn’t so easy as flipping off a switch. He can’t just surgically remove the love
that lies threaded through each of his solar-powered cells. But he can learn to redirect it. He
can accept that Batman has already met the love of his life, and learn to let these feelings fade
back into platonic over time.

He has to take the first step now, before it’s too late. Before Batman can officially break his
heart.

“Only blooms when both moons are in the sky, but not if the water in the floodplains have
receded…” Batman is muttering to himself. “Fascinating.”

“Hey, B?” Clark asks, before he can convince himself not to go through with it. God, he
really hopes his voice doesn’t crack.

“Hm?” Batman swivels just enough to meet Clark’s eyes.

Clark takes a protracted breath, preparing to throw himself off the precipice.

“I just wanted to say- you’re my best friend in the whole world, and nothing’s going to
change that.”

No matter what my feelings are, I can respect that you’ll never feel the same way. I can
accept whoever your heart chooses, as long as they make you happy.

Clark can hear Batman’s pulse skip a beat before it returns to its steady, comforting pace. The
span of several breaths passes before Batman responds.

“You’re…the same for me, Kal. I- I know I’m not the most demonstrative person, and that I
can be difficult, to say the least. But I always have and always will value your friendship. If
I’ve done anything recently to indicate otherwise-”

“No- not at all,” Clark says earnestly. Batman hasn’t done anything at all; this awkwardness
is all on Clark. “I just wanted to make sure you knew. That I support you and- and that I
really hope for your happiness, in whatever form it takes. You deserve it.”

“Thank you. I wish the best for you as well.” Batman glances down at his hands for the
briefest of moments, before summoning up one of his rare smiles for Clark. “No matter what
happens, nothing between us has to change. World’s Finest to the end.”
“Yep, that’s us.” Clark doesn’t know if he wants to sigh in relief, or cry out in defeated
anguish. In the end, he settles for indulging in a friendly grasp of Batman’s shoulder before
asking him to explain more about the moonflowers in the next star system. The wound in his
heart will take a long time to heal.

With Cat on the mend, Clark had expected that he would be making much fewer trips to
Gotham. Perry quickly disabuses him of this apparently outrageous notion.

“Wayne specifically requested you for his next fifteen interviews.”

“Why the devil do we, a paper in Metropolis, interview him so often?” Clark wants to ask,
but he’s back on the train to Gotham before he knows it. He takes the length of the commute
to try and tame his fluctuating emotions. Let go of Batman, he reminds himself. Be
professional. Be kind to his lover. Don’t dwell on how lonely you’ve felt since that night.
Don’t let your unruly emotions ruin everything.

Today’s outdoor adventure is along the Gotham River, where a group of volunteers is doing
their monthly big cleanup of the trash littered along the banks. Some philanthropists, besides
donating to the city’s green fund, are taking part as well to raise awareness of Gotham’s
environmental programs.

Bruce is easily visible by the gigantic sunhat on his head. To his surprise, Clark doesn’t feel
particularly jealous when he sees Bruce. The ache in his chest is closer to yearning than
anything else. He supposes that’s better than the alternative; at least he won’t be getting
snippy with a man who hasn’t done anything wrong, who’s done nothing but shown Clark
kindness. Clark makes his way over to him, but it’s a slow process since he feels obligated to
pick up every piece of trash on the way there.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne,” he says when he finally arrives.

“Please, Clank, just Bruce is fine,” Bruce says, but Clark can tell his heart isn’t in it. His
usual teasing tone is muted, his gaze faraway and distracted even as he stabs a styrofoam cup
with his trash picker.

He should ask if Bruce is alright, but he knows Bruce is likely to deflect, so he decides to
lighten the conversation before jumping into their interview. “This is more satisfying than I
expected. I didn’t think I’d take so much joy from stabbing things.”

“Better the stabber than stabbee, I always say,” Bruce murmurs, and Clark laughs.

“It concerns me that this might be a precept that guides your everyday life, but I suppose I
don’t know what daily madness Gothamites have to deal with.”
“More knives than would be ideal. Go on, then,” he says, waving impatiently at Clark. “Ask
me your questions.”

Clark hesitates, but decides it’s better to get the interview itself out of the way first before
trying to pry through Bruce’s layers of falsehood to the problem plaguing him.

“Okay, let me just get my notebook out.”

Bruce answers Clark’s questions readily, if not with particular enthusiasm. His responses
demonstrate a fair amount of knowledge about the clean up initiative and the next
environmental program, where WE is partnering with the city to increase the energy
efficiency of Gotham’s public buildings. Whatever has him down has done away with any of
his usual charade that he doesn’t know when or where he is, or anything beyond what his PR
manager told him.

“Some people say that Gotham’s climate change initiative is too ambitious, but the city and
her people are ready for it, and I’m fully prepared to help however I can.” Bruce stops talking
to chew at his lip as he stabs three shreds of plastic one after another, triumph lighting his
face when they don’t slide back off. “You were right. This is therapeutic.”

“It is, isn’t it? Thank you for your time today, Mr. Wayne.”

“No problem. I always have time for my third favorite Metropolitan.”

“Let me guess, Lois and Cat take first and second?”

“Of course.”

“Well, third best is still pretty high praise. Better than Superman, even.” He doesn’t know
why he mentions himself; usually he doesn’t have any need to know how people feel about
his alter-ego, but he’s curious if Batman has ever spoken to Bruce about him. Hopefully
Bruce’s impression is a good one…

Bruce startles slightly at the mention of Superman, his trash picker poking into the dirt.
“Superman,” he says, staring off toward the river. “He’s…admirable. Kind. A good man. The
best humanity has to offer, despite not being human himself. Sometimes I wonder if we
deserve him.”

Clark scolds himself for the tiny burst of excitement at the news. Stupid. Lots of people like
Superman, no need to make a big deal out of it. Batman must’ve really talked Clark up, in
that gruff, curt way of his. “So you’re a fan of Superman, then.”

“A fan? You could say so. I won’t rank him above you, though, don’t worry. Besides, I
should show some loyalty to my own local hero, shouldn’t I?” Bruce turns back to give Clark
a wry smile. “I don’t want people spreading rumors that I’m easy for any man in a cape.”

Clark’s heart begins thumping so loudly that even without enhanced senses he could hear it.

What’s that supposed to mean? Is Bruce implying something? Clark should ask him about
Batman. Get his proof.
But the pensive light in those blue-gray eyes gives him pause. This feels like another one of
Bruce’s deflections. Why? What is he trying to avoid talking about?

And why does he seem so sad?

“Is there something on your mind, Mr. Wa- Bruce? You don’t seem as spirited as usual,
today.” Clark pushes aside all other thoughts except the one that tells him that the decent
thing to do is to cheer up Bruce Wayne.

Surprise unfolds slowly on Bruce’s face, but it fades into resignation.

“Of course you noticed. You Daily Planet reporters are all too sharp for your own good.”

Clark makes a show of putting his notebook back into his pocket. “Whatever you want to tell
me, if anything, is off the record. I’m just asking as a concerned…acquaintance.”

The corner of Bruce’s mouth tilts into a smile. “Didn’t want to be presumptuous enough to
call yourself my friend?”

“It would be pretty audacious of me, especially when I’m still 75% sure you think my name
is Clump.”

The smile gives way to a short laugh, and Bruce turns around and begins stabbing garbage
again in earnest. Clark is afraid the moment is lost, but he makes an imperious little “come
along” gesture, so Clark scuttles after him, also stabbing away.

“Do you know, Clark, how it feels to miss something you never actually had?”

The question pierces him so neatly through the heart that Clark almost stumbles, but he finds
his footing and steadies his voice before answering.

“Actually, yes. It’s not a great feeling. But it’s also- it’s the hypotheticals that sting the most.
Would it have turned out how I wanted if I had done this instead? Was my desired outcome
possible, if the timing had been different?”

“Exactly. I’ve been dwelling on those same questions recently, and I guess it shows.” He
pauses to empty his picker into his garbage bag. “I keep telling myself that I shouldn’t be
greedy. That what I have with hi- that what I have is already enough. But the heart is a
difficult organ to tame.”

Clark can feel the tumblers of the lock sliding into position as his brain unlocks the mystery.

Bruce is talking about his relationship with Batman. He wants more — the engagement,
perhaps? A promise of some sort? — but he can’t have it. It’s out of reach, likely because of
Batman.

“I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but it sounds like it involves someone close to you.
Someone you’re afraid of hurting, which is why this is weighing on you so much,” Clark says
gently, and Bruce sighs.
“Yes. I was hoping that one day I could…unburden myself of a truth. Reveal a secret I’ve
been holding for too long. But it was foolish of me to think that I was allowed to do so. It was
selfish to assume that it’s something that needed to be heard.”

Batman must not be ready to open up about their relationship yet. And from the sounds of it,
he might not be ready for a long while. Clark feels for Bruce, he really does. Rao only knows
how long it took for Batman to ask Clark for help, let alone admit they were friends. He
probably wants to hold off on announcing their relationship to keep Bruce safe. If the public
really knows what they mean to each other, Bruce will likely be getting kidnapped ten times
as often as he already does.

It’s an impossible situation, and Clark only envies him a little for being stuck in it.

“I wish I could offer some advice, but unfortunately I don’t think I have any ideas you
haven’t already considered. What I can offer is a distraction, if you’d like.”

“A distraction?”

Clark nods. “There’s a showcase of student art at a gallery a few blocks from the courthouse.
I’ve been meaning to check it out after our interview about the arts that time, but I haven’t
had a chance until now. I’d be happy to have some company, if you aren’t busy after the
cleanup. Maybe it’ll help get your mind off your troubles for a little while.”

For some reason the stretch of silence that follows as Bruce thinks over Clark’s offer, his gaze
unblinking, reminds Clark of the way Batman stares into the shadows as he broods over his
decisions. Couples really do resemble one another after a while.

However, the effervescent smile Clark receives after a few seconds is 100% Bruce Wayne.

“Alright, Clark. It’s a date.”

The phrasing gives Clark pause until he remembers Bruce’s MO. It’s been ages since he’s
been seen out and about with a new dalliance. With Batman’s reluctance to go public, Bruce
must have assumed that Clark’s offer was a perfect chance to be spotted with someone else
on his arm, since he’ll have to keep the fiction going for an indefinite amount of time.

Clark just never expected that he might get mistaken as Bruce’s fake date, but there’s a kind
of depressing hilarity to the situation that he finds he doesn’t really mind. Who else can say
they’ve pretended to be the paramour of their love rival? He and Batman can laugh about it
later, somewhere down the line.

“I guess it is! I can finally get you back for the coffee and pie.”

“Ha, good luck with that. Don’t forget that you’re still in my territory, and I don’t play fair.”
Bruceman HQ

#social-media-news

Tabs: twitter.com/gothamdish/status/155125851354812352

Tabs: sorry but who the FUCK is clark kent??????

Hawkgrrrrrl: I don’t know but whew he’s kinda cute?

Momomomomo: omg nooooo 😱😱 why are they leaning so close

Tabs: yeah my man is IN bruce’s space like back off dude.....

bats307: Let’s not read too much into it! It just looks like a friendly outing to me!

shadow: i dunno maybe he’s bruce’s new boyfriend o_o

bats307: A date at a taco restaurant? I mean, I guess even rich people must like tacos.

Wrathful: Wait guys Clark Kent is press so this could just be an interview or something

Hawkgrrrrrl: I don’t want to jump to conclusions but if he’s just a reporter would he really
be holding Bruce’s hand like that?

Wrathful: Okay yeah that’s a little interesting……..

Momomomomo: 💔💔💔
Z: lots of ppl touch Bruce though whether he likes it or not :///

ames 🌈: Yeah, it’s gross

ames 🌈: But he doesn’t actually look uncomfortable here so they’re probably just
friends???

Pretz: hm hm hm faces are a little close for just friends 😳

K: Don’t worry too much about it, guys!!

K: It looks to me like he’s just trying to steal the check.

K: Also, remember how we were saying that it was odd that Bruce hadn’t been seen dating

🖤💙
anyone in a while? I bet this Clark Kent fellow is just his latest “fling”. We all know who
really has his heart

Momomomomo: but k all his other dates are always at galas and stuff
Momomomomo: theyre also always like really dressy and a lot of them are obviously in it
for the fame

Momomomomo: while this guy

Z: just looks like a guy

shadow: a nice sweet regular guy with no secrets to hide

K: To be honest, I wonder if it’s a trial run. Most of us agree that Batman is probably just a
regular guy, right?

K: Bruce is testing the waters with some random people to get people used to the thought of
him “dating below his station” so that when he and Batman finally go public one day it won’t
cause as many shockwaves.

Z: omg that makes so much sense

bats307: That’s true, we’re so used to the supermodels and millionaires that if he jumped
straight to Batman, people would rip the relationship to shreds.

ames
one
🌈: But this way when he finally settles down they’ll just think he’s finally found the
Tabs: stopppp now i’m thinking about the bruceman wedding again

Pretz: o yeah how’s your honeymoon art going shadow

shadow: it is going! hopefully i can finish by next tuesday for anniversary week

K: I can’t wait to see it!

shadow: can’t wait to show you! ^.^

 Chapter 9
Chapter Notes

Sorry, this chapter is weirdly long??

“Kal-El,” Wonder Woman says at the end of today’s League meeting. “If I could have a
word.”

Clark resists the obsessive need to glance over at where Batman is speaking to Martian
Manhunter about softball. “Of course. What’s up?” he asks, as he exits the conference room
with her. “Did you want a continuation of our high jump competition?”

“Another time, my friend. Today I wanted to ask if there was anything I needed to know
about you and Batman. You have both been distant with one another, and we had concerns.”

Clark winces, feeling ashamed that the rest of the team has caught on. Ever since that day at
the Fortress, there’s been some kind of tension between himself and Batman that even Clark
doesn’t understand. He’s been trying not to let this new phase of his life affect their
friendship, but Batman too seems to have been isolating himself from Clark. They aren’t
fighting, he knows that much. They aren’t sniping at each other during mission briefings or
having any shouting matches where the rest of the League pretends they’re not listening in.

It’s as if they’re both trying to give the other person space, which Clark both appreciates and
loathes. He doesn’t want to be distant from Batman, but right now it hurts less when their
interactions are purely professional, so Clark doesn’t have to think about the dream he let go
of. He’s hoping that after enough time, they’ll just ease back into their old routine once the
hurt has faded. He has faith that they can do it.

He’s been debating the merits of broaching the subject of Bruce’s latest cover story, but he
isn’t sure how to bring it up without letting on that he’s the Clark Kent of recent fame. He
actually wouldn’t mind if Batman knew his secret identity; if there’s anyone he trusts with the
information, it’s B. But what with their current distance and Clark’s entanglement with
Bruce, it’s all too messy to talk about now. Once Clark and Bruce “break up,” that’s when
he’ll reassess. Hopefully Batman won’t be upset that Clark pretended to date his lover.

Oh god, what if he is upset? Batman has never seemed particularly jealous of Bruce’s flings,
but he probably didn’t know any of them personally. Is he going to take Clark’s participation
as some kind of betrayal? That would be horrible. Especially when he’s the one Clark really
has feelings for. Eurgh. Perhaps Clark will have to keep his identity secret forever after all.

He dredges up a weak smile for Wonder Woman. “Don’t worry, we’re going to be okay.
Something a little…awkward happened between us, and it’s no one’s fault, but I think we
both decided it would be better for us to give each other some room to move on from it.
Thanks for your concern though. You’re a good friend.” He closes a hand over her shoulder.

Wonder Woman’s slightly dubious look resolves into what seems to be understanding. “As
long as you are both in agreement that it won’t harm your relationship or the League, I will
trust your judgment, Kal-El. I hope that the issue resolves quickly.”

“Me too,” he says, as he finally gives in to his desire to peek through the wall at Batman, still
speaking to Martian Manhunter and Black Canary. “I hope things go back to normal soon.”

ann (is suffering) @nonfrictionbook

anyway congrats to bruce wayne for securing himself a fuckin stallion of a boyfriend

dm me aquaman boob pics @grasstroturf

Call me paranoid but who else thinks this sudden surge of claruce accounts are just sbat
sockpuppets trying to hype up a rival ship to get Bruce out of the way

SB artbook apps open! @worldsfirmest

🙄
Funny how b/mans have been talking for years about supporting bruce’s bisexuality but
suddenly he’s dating this guy from metropolis and it’s nothing but crickets

superbatforever @superbat4ever

what are b********s whining about now someone please spill 👀👀👀
Ice Witch @supeshaircurl
Replying to @superbat4ever

Haley it’s so funny someone pointed out that there are literally ten times as many pics of
Bruce w/ his new man than there ever were of him and Batman and now they’re having
a meltdown

superbatforever @superbat4ever
Replying to @supeshaircurl

LMFAO oh my god I bet they’re making up all kinds of delulu reasons why
Maria @snflwerknghts
Replying to @superbat4ever and @supeshaircurl

Legit saw someone say it’s because batman is too good to get caught on camera and like
HELLO he’s in 70000 photos with the league

trip @glow_factories
Replying to @snflwerknghts @supeshaircurl and @superbat4ever

just accept that he doesn’t give a fuck about your stupid billionaire and move on

Ice Witch @supeshaircurl

Replying to @snflwerknghts @glow_factories and 2 others

tbh I never had anything against Bruce himself, just his annoying stans so I hope he’s
having the time of his life getting plowed to high heaven

Lindy 🏳⚧ 💝 @TastelessLace21
All the Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent ship names suck

Cluce? Wa..nt?? Bruark?? Fuck all that I’m calling them Gothopolis from now on

blimp problems @cactusp6

anyone notice that big blue and bats didn’t talk to each other again after the battle 😰

jones @bat_hairdryer
Replying to @cactusp6

No smirk, no little pat on the back, nothing

I hate it here

Katya 🐈 @RiseAndRind
Replying to @cactusp6

guys :(((( it’s like my own parents are fighting and i don’t like it

Sam 🔥 @canarysfishnets
honestly it’s the hypocrisy for me
sbs go on and on about how brucemans never acknowledge the “chemistry” between
world’s finest and yet the second you bring up superlane or superkent and it’s all “oh
that’s just a professional relationship”

mallomars @marsh_marrowed
Replying to @canarysfishnets

MAKE IT MAKE SENSE

🚜 daveman @vnnn2001
Replying to @marsh_marrowed and @canarysfishnets

I know right?? Also, Clark’s been on the Superman beat as long as Lois has and SBs
have never given him a second glance but now he’s “dating” Bruce Wayne and all these
SBs suddenly have so much to say

🚜 daveman @vnnn2001
Replying to @vnnn2001 @marsh_marrowed and @canarysfishnets

about how “cute” he is and “what a good match” he and Bruce are. Oh, so now you
finally notice him now that he’s not in your ship’s way? Be more obvious.

Water Guy @power_25_A

It’s ok guys superbat are just in one of their annual divorce arcs we’ll get through this

guacamoleman @miomepo

Am I the only one who remembers that Batman has two Bathands??

I dunno why y’all are fighting all the time when Superman and Bruce should just make a
Batwich?

Rina @coldborscht
Replying to @miomepo

that’s what i’ve been SAYING

bats is a handful and he needs two boyfriends to double team him

Hannasaur @londonlightt

sometimes I wish there were more superclois shippers and then I see the kind of shit that
happens between the popular ships and I remember to stay humble…
comics are cool @comix_r_cool
Replying to @londonlightt

lol as a brois fan i totally feel this

mlep @mystry31
Replying to @londonlightt

Hard same from the MarsFlash corner ✌

Robin Defender @batmansgloves

week three of no new world’s finest in the wild footage…

my skin is breaking out, my crops are shriveled, my grades are down

roast potato is my husband @kryptonlovebeam

Replying to @batmansgloves

I’ve been rewatching old clips to cope and I just saw their first post-battle hug again 😭

bromas propaganda @battenterprises

okay hear me out: wf are fighting because supes found out that his bff isn’t willing to
come out for bruce and now bruce is (fake??) dating clark and bats is pissed and supes is
like “I told you so” so bats is mad at him too

Joan @edensmuses
Replying to @battenterprises

you’re fucking delusional

pride & sensibility @gray_wedding

Replying to @battenterprises

🙏
What I’m taking away from this is we need a long, angsty slow burn Batman/Clark Kent
enemies to lovers fic please and thank you

Cape connoisseur @dynamitosis

Replying to @gray_wedding and @battenterprises

What I’m taking away from your takeaway is that superman and bruce should hook up
at the end

himbo4himbo
Clark knew the tabloid media churned out content at a breakneck speed, but he hadn’t quite
prepared himself for the explosion of his relationship with Bruce all over every outlet and
news source he knew. He had to call his ma and pa and tell them himself that it wasn’t really
what the press was making it out to be, just so they weren’t confused about his speedy dive
into the dating scene after Batman.

It’s not like they’re even doing anything together, not really. Their paparazzi photos are
nothing like the pictures he’s seen of Bruce stumbling drunkenly out of a hotel or leaving a
party with a gorgeous woman on each arm. Now, armed with the insider knowledge of a
Bruceman fan, Clark can see how most of them must have been staged. Years of hiding the
truth have made Bruce an expert in working the cameras to his advantage. However, the skill
hasn’t been put to much use now that he’s with Clark.

All Clark and Bruce ever do is eat snacks and attend public interest events or visit local
attractions. Against his better judgment, Clark will click on the leaks of his latest “date” with
Bruce, and it’ll just be a rather plain article dressed up with speculation and hyperbole, while
the photographs included are just of Bruce straightening napkins while Clark cuts through a
stack of two-inch thick pancakes or the two of them leaning on a fence to watch dogs at the
dog park. For some bizarre reason, the public loves it.

He’s mostly thankful that they never snoop close enough to hear what they’re talking about.
That much, they should be allowed to keep for themselves. The pieces of Bruce’s life history
that Clark has gradually gleaned over time, the ever-expanding web of strange things Clark
has realized he has an encyclopedic knowledge of, the dry sense of humor that was hiding all
this time under his famously ebullient and outgoing personality. Bruce is still peculiar and
flirtatious, still pretends to be a couple notches stupider than he really is, but his energy is less
excessive when he’s with Clark. Between the witty quips and obfuscating conversational
misdirects Clark can see the more thoughtful, tempered side of Bruce.

Clark worked hard to learn all this about him, dammit. It shouldn’t be some scoop for some
other vulture to steal and splash on every magazine and ad-infested news site.

Clark invited Bruce to Metropolis today to watch the Metropolis Ravens play another minor
league team, and they’ve had the good luck not to be recognized by anyone so far. Clark gets
the chance to tell Bruce the storied history of Metropolis’ sports teams, more than one of
which seems to have been cursed. Bruce listens well, keeping up the conversation with
occasional questions. Most of the time he likes to ask Clark about his life, his job, the reasons
he enjoys writing. It’s flattering to have someone so interested in him, even if it’s all out of
politeness.

After the game, Clark drags Bruce over to a street stand to buy some funnel cake,
successfully shoving his handful of bills into the vendor’s hand before Bruce can beat him to
it.
“I’ve gotta even out the score,” he says as they walk toward a bench outside the baseball
field. “I have to say, it’s nice to finally eat something hot again. I’ve been getting sick of tepid
pizza.”

“Oh, you’re one of those cold pizza people.”

“Not by choice. My microwave’s been broken for the better part of the year, so I just got used
to it,” Clark says, shrugging. He uses the wipe in his hand to rub away the gunk on the bench
before gesturing for Bruce to take a seat.

Bruce sits with his legs held primly together so that he can use it as a surface on which to
break their funnel cake into pieces. “You’re telling me you’ve been eating cold leftovers for
months because you haven’t been able to replace your microwave?”

“Yeah, but it’s not so bad once you get used to it. I was going to buy a new one, but, uh- I had
some other expenses to cover.” Clark’s apartment had suffered a series of misfortunes over
the last few weeks that couldn’t be directly tied back to incidental heroic damage, so he’d had
to pay for the repairs himself. “I’m scrimping and saving for it here and there.”

A knowing look settles on Bruce’s face. “Hm. That won’t do,” he says as he hands Clark a
sizable chunk of funnel cake. “I’ll send you a new one.”

“I don’t need a pity microwave, Bruce,” Clark tries to argue, but Bruce just squints at him.

“Clark, I can buy literally every person in Gotham a new microwave oven. In fact, I think I
will. Or some kind of household appliance. I should talk to Siobhan about the holiday gift
drive. Never too early to start planning a party,” he mutters to himself.

“In case you’ve forgotten, I’m not a citizen of Gotham.”

“Unfortunately, I’m well aware.” Bruce makes a show of pulling a face as he looks at their
surroundings, and Clark jokingly elbows him in the arm. “Consider it a belated birthday
present, then. Now you can’t say no.”

“Fine, but that means you can’t wriggle your way out of a present for your birthday.”

“That’s fair, I suppose.”

Frowning in concentration, Bruce attempts to attack his jagged shard of funnel cake by taking
a large bite, but accidentally flicks sugar all over his face in doing so.

“I remember now why I never eat these,” he grumbles, and Clark can’t help but laugh at his
disgruntled face.

“May I?” He reaches over slowly so Bruce can decline if he wants, but when he makes no
indication of moving away, Clark uses his thumb to rub away the streak of confectioner’s
sugar on his cheek. “There.”

“Thanks.” Bruce glances down at the funnel cake in his hands, his cheeks dusted pink. He
takes a more conservative approach this time, nibbling at the edge of the pastry like a
hamster. He’s awfully cute, Clark notes. Batman must think so too.

There’s a smudge of sugar on his lips and Clark almost reaches over again, before he realizes
how inappropriate that would be. If the paparazzi had caught him— goodness. Face burning,
he begins to eat his own funnel cake to keep himself busy.

“How’s Dick doing? Still attending that boarding school in New York?”

“He’s well. He’ll be back at school in a month, but he’s been splitting his time between here
with me and Alfred and there with his friends. Apparently summer is the best time to spend
in the city,” Bruce says skeptically.

“I think it’s nice you trust him to choose where to spend his time and with whom.”

“It took some persuading. I did have a lot of reservations at first. But he hasn’t proven me
right yet, so I suppose letting him out of the nest was the right call, even if he’s keeping more
secrets than he used to. Actually, I suspect,” and Bruce leans closer to say in a low voice,
“that he has a girlfriend he isn’t telling me about.” The seriousness with which he utters this
secret brings a smile to Clark’s face.

“Well, he’s about that age, isn’t he? I remember how big a deal it was when I was in high
school to get Lana to notice me. The biggest deal, even.”

“Oh? And did you succeed? Did you manage to catch Lana’s eye?”

“I did,” Clark reveals, feeling just a little bit smug about it. “She even asked to come back to
the barn with me.”

“The barn?” Bruce’s eyebrows are high, his voice pitching up in apparent delight. “Oh, you
are a country boy, through and through. Did you take an actual roll in the hay, Kansas?”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time! It’s, you know, private. Spacious. But the hay is- it’s
not ideal. I was still finding it in my clothes long after Lana had moved on.”

“She didn’t realize what a catch you are?” Bruce is teasing, Clark knows, but it makes his
heart flutter a bit regardless.

“Is anyone really a catch at sixteen? And no, we figured out that we worked better as
friends.”

“That’s quite mature for that age, especially for a boy who thinks a barn is a great place to
bring a girl.”

“You’re from Gotham; you couldn’t possibly understand,” Clark says, rolling his eyes good-
naturedly. “What were you like in high school?”

“Not the social butterfly I am now. I spent a lot of time reading and getting into fights,”
Bruce admits.
“Is that when you learned how to juggle knives?” Clark asks, remembering the tidbit from
their last conversation at a magic show in Gotham being performed by an old friend of
Bruce’s.

“No, Dick taught me,” Bruce says. “He laughed himself sick when I threw one into the
ceiling by accident. Alfred wasn’t pleased.”

“A house like yours, I imagine he wouldn’t be. Couldn’t you have started with something
easier than knives?”

“Oh, I did. Oranges. But Alfred wasn’t pleased about that either. Pulp,” Bruce says,
shrugging, as if that explains anything, and Clark laughs.

“So if I were to visit the manor and see orange juice stains on the walls, I should presume that
they’re the fault of a grown man who runs his own company, and not a young boy who
dropped his sippy cup twenty-five years ago.”

“I’d have to have thrown that sippy cup with terrifying force for the marks to be as high as
they are. Besides, I’d hardly call what I do running Wayne Enterprises.”

“You do more than you pretend to,” Clark says, giving Bruce a sideways look. “There’s no
point hiding it from me any longer, now that I’ve caught you red-handed.” Two weeks ago,
he’d been sent up to Bruce’s office for an interview and overheard Bruce having a shockingly
coherent conversation with a Mr. Fox about some new Wayne Biotech project. It was quite
obvious that not only did Bruce know exactly what he was talking about, but he was behind
many of the decisions people normally attributed to his department heads and board of
directors.

The resigned look on Bruce’s face when he spotted Clark had flashed away in favor of a
comically overwrought bit about having a nurse fetish, but Clark had nudged him back into
his office and refused to leave until he got his interview about WE’s new partnership with the
Gotham Public Library to update the technology available for use in all its branch locations.
Bruce had been so obviously nettled by Clark’s knowing gaze that he’d chased Clark out of
Gotham with only a Batburger for dinner.

Bruce looks annoyed again now as he finishes his last piece of funnel cake. “And if I see
even a hint of any of that in print, I’ll sue you to oblivion, Crate.”

“Hah, go for it. All you’ll get out of the settlement is my ficus and my work wardrobe, which
I know you like very much. Not even a microwave to be had.”

Bruce’s irritation turns into pain as he looks Clark over, mentally cataloging how ugly the rest
of Clark’s clothes must be.

“Never mind.”

“Jokes aside, I promise I won’t do that to you. I know what it means to you to maintain a
particular image. Everyone has their own secrets, and I would never give yours away.”
He rests his hand on Bruce’s shoulder, trying to show his sincerity. Bruce glances down at the
touch, his face going solemn, but he lifts his gaze to say, “I appreciate that. You’re quite
decent, for- you know.” He makes a flippant gesture at Clark.

“A reporter?”

“No, someone from Metropolis.”

“You know I’m from Kansas originally; we just established that,” Clark says with a grin.

“But you moved to Metropolis right after graduating, didn’t you? Never lived anywhere else
in between?” Bruce asks curiously.

“Nope.”

“So you’ve been here for years, then. You should consider yourself a local by now.”

“I am, but your Metropolis hate does nothing to me. I’m completely invulnerable to it.”

“Metropolis’ architectural identity has been on steady decline since the 1920s,” Bruce says
immediately, apparently armed with a whole list of grievances for this very purpose. “The
Metropolis Meteors didn’t deserve their spot in the NFC championship last year. Your half of
the Metro-Narrows ends in the worst traffic intersection in the eastern United States, due to
your city’s terrible drivers. Nobody in Metropolis knows how to make a proper cheesecake
— pie crust? Really? And Maple Point should have been renamed Pebble Point years ago; I
went suntanning there once and managed to get rocks up my-”

“Alright, hey now, I think our cheesecake is pretty good! And Maple Point isn’t that bad…”

“Gotcha,” Bruce says triumphantly. “Clark, you’re from a landlocked state smack dab in the
middle of the country. Have you been to a beach before this one?”

“No…”

“Exactly. You, darling, are officially a Metropolitan. Nobody else would defend that sad little
strip of rocks.”

“At least our buildings aren’t all made of solid lead,” Clark snipes back. It’s actually pretty
annoying to try and use his x-ray in Gotham sometimes.

“That is indeed a problem,” Bruce concedes. “The silver lining of our city getting destroyed
with depressing frequency is that the urban development department has been able to bring
some older buildings up to code during the reconstruction.”

“That’s both scary and inspiring.” Clark, now used to the routine, hands Bruce a fresh wipe
so they can clean their hands before going on their way.

“I can’t resist a man who comes prepared,” Bruce says as they dispose of their garbage.

I bet, Clark thinks to himself as he pictures Batman’s utility belt.

“Sure you don’t have time for dinner today? There’s this nice little Vietnamese place that just
opened up a few months ago near Lois’ apartment,” Clark asks as he walks Bruce back to his
hotel.

“Unfortunately, no, I’ve got some business to attend to tonight while I’m here.” Bruce does
sound regretful, and it causes Clark’s chest to grow tight. He’d never expected this friendship
to sprout unexpectedly out of their handful of somewhat bizarre interviews, but he’s happy it
did. Getting the chance to know a more genuine version of Bruce, a side of him that only
people like Batman get to see — has been its own gift.

“Another time, then. I never actually bought you that drink, either.”

“See, Mr. Kent, that leaves you in the perfect position to invite me back to your place for a
nightcap. Very sly of you.” Bruce winks, and Clark smiles back in response.

“If I were slick enough to come up with a plan like that, I never- whoa!”

At a speed just a touch faster than human, Clark yanks Bruce by the back of his jacket,
pulling him away from the car speeding through the red light. Bruce falls into Clark’s chest,
his hand reflexively snapping out to grab Clark by the arm to brace himself.

“Are you alright?” Clark asks as Bruce catches his breath, his weight still supported by
Clark’s body. Around them, the other pedestrians flow like inlets, flooding into the streets
even as they remain still at the edge of the curb. Faintly, at the back of his mind, Clark
registers that Bruce’s torso is even more solid than he expected, his back a steely line of lean
muscle. His grip is unexpectedly tight; anybody else would be bruised by the strength of his
fingers clutching at their forearm like this.

These observations are overshadowed by the flurry of sensations that imprint on his mind in
the following three seconds. The slightest hint of curl at the ends of Bruce’s black hair that
tickles Clark’s throat, the faint scent of iron and leather beneath the soap and powdered sugar
and fry oil, the bitten-off gasp of a curse that escapes his mouth.

“You might have a point about Metropolis drivers,” Clark says gently when Bruce shakes off
his surprise.

“I told you,” Bruce says as he finally regains his balance, shifting his weight off Clark to
support himself. “Nice save. I wouldn’t make a very pretty pancake,” he jokes as he turns to
face Clark, but his voice trails off when he comes to the same realization that Clark has.

They’re standing very close.

Close enough that Clark can see the paper thin scar bisecting Bruce’s left eyebrow, the corona
of white-blue in his irises surrounding his widened pupils, the involuntary slip of pink tongue
wetting his lips.

Clark can’t look away from that mouth. There’s a familiarity to it that feels incongruous with
the rest of Bruce’s face, but it isn’t enough to shake him of his sudden urge to run the pad of
his thumb over that soft lower lip.
He wants to lean in and taste that trace of sugar for himself.

He wants…something based on an illusion.

Lies, all the way down. He knows this. They both know this. Clark’s recent proximity to
Bruce just has him confused.

Desperate for some kind of transitive kiss with Batman. Too lonely to differentiate between
attraction and friendship anymore. What a wretched creature he’s become.

“Now, I’m sure that isn’t true,” Clark says as he forces himself to take a step backward,
opening the space between them enough to break open the vacuum keeping them captive.
“With a face like yours, you’d certainly be the prettiest roadkill this street has ever seen.”

It’s the curse of his Kryptonian heritage that Clark doesn’t miss the split second of
disappointment that flickers across Bruce’s face before his familiar smirk arrives.

“Smooth. I’m starting to see how you won Lana over,” Bruce says dryly.

“I keep all my good words for the Planet.”

This gets him a laugh, and Bruce loops an arm around Clark’s back to hurry him across the
street before the light changes on them again.

“Another raincheck on the drinks and on the pho too.”

His tone is casual, breezy, when he speaks again, and Clark tries not to dwell on why it feels
like he just let something slip through his fingers.

@shadowscribble AKA shadow

FriendlyFan: Hey, are you feeling okay? I noticed you didn’t join the fic club discussion like
you normally do, and you seemed really excited for this one too.

FriendlyFan: No worries if you don’t want to talk about it! Just thought I’d check in. 😊

shadowscribble: oh

shadowscribble: u_u you’re so perceptive k

FriendlyFan: Haha, I try to be!

shadowscribble: it’s
shadowscribble: uh

shadowscribble: a little embarrassing but

shadowscribble: recently i’ve been hanging out with someone but i feel like i’m getting a lot
of mixed messages from them and i guess it’s got me feeling confused

FriendlyFan: Ohhhh! 😮

FriendlyFan: Are you hoping it’s going to turn into a relationship?

shadowscribble: i honestly don’t know

FriendlyFan: But you like them?

shadowscribble: i…

shadowscribble: yeah against my better judgment i think i do

FriendlyFan: And you can’t tell how they feel about you. Hmmm, what kinds of signals are
they giving off?

shadowscribble: uh well they’re really sweet

shadowscribble: they’re super great all around actually which is why i like them ^.^;;

shadowscribble: but i know they’re hiding something from me

FriendlyFan: Whoa! Like, a serious secret, you think?

shadowscribble: i think they’re trying to get something else out of our friendship that they’re
not telling me about >_<

FriendlyFan: That sounds pretty shady. Do you think they’re using you as a means to an
end? For money or connections, something like that?

shadowscribble: no…i don’t know

shadowscribble: they’re not actively trying to sucker me out of anything

shadowscribble: but i get the feeling that i’m way more invested in this than they are

shadowscribble: and in the end they’re going to leave and it’s going to be my fault for seeing
all the signs and letting it happen anyway

FriendlyFan: That really sucks, Shadow, I’m sorry. ☹

FriendlyFan: Do you think you should break things off before it gets to that point?

FriendlyFan: It’s okay to put yourself first. You don’t deserve to get hurt, whether or not
they intend to do so.
shadowscribble: i probably should but

shadowscribble: i like the way they make me feel

shadowscribble: i recently got turned down by someone i deeply cared for and i was hoping
this could be something new and fresh to get my mind off that other person

shadowscribble: even though i knew going in that it probably wouldn’t work out i was stupid
enough to get invested anyway

shadowscribble: i’m just really dumb T_T

FriendlyFan: You’re not dumb!

FriendlyFan: You can’t help your feelings. This person came into your life at a time that you
needed them, but it’s not your fault that there’s a mismatch between what you need from each
other.

FriendlyFan: I recently also had to let go of feelings for someone I really loved. It’s what
was best for both of us, but it hurt like heck and I’m still not going to be over it for a long
while.

FriendlyFan: I can understand trying to find solace in somebody who makes you forget
about the feelings you’re trying not to think about!

shadowscribble: yeah

shadowscribble: it just feels really easy with them

FriendlyFan: I know how that is. I have a friend who has a way of making our time together
feel like it just flies by. Not sure how he does it, haha.

FriendlyFan: I suppose the question is: can you handle knowing that this isn’t likely going to
end how you want it to?

FriendlyFan: Or would you rather save yourself the heartache while you’re already
emotionally vulnerable?

FriendlyFan: I don’t know that there’s a right answer! You’ll just have to decide for
yourself.

shadowscribble: what if i’m not ready to decide

FriendlyFan: Then you take the time you need! But if you’re reading the situation correctly,
the end might be upon you before you realize.

FriendlyFan: Inaction is also a choice.

shadowscribble: you’re right

shadowscribble: i know what i should do

shadowscribble: it’s just a matter of finding the resolve to do it

FriendlyFan: Whatever you choose, I’m rooting for you! I hope it works out better than
you’re expecting, my friend.

shadowscribble: thanks k ^.^

shadowscribble: you’re a good listener

FriendlyFan: No problem!! I’m always glad to lend an ear to a pal.

FriendlyFan: And by the way, if it goes really badly, let me know and I’ll come take a ride
over to Gotham and give them a piece of my mind! 😠

shadowscribble: oh haha that’s sweet of you but we’ll hope it doesn’t come to that!

shadowscribble: i get the feeling it would become really confusing

Anonymous asked:

stfu about bruceman already it’s clearly never going to happen

madeingotham answered:

no <3

pretty sure i know which little posse of losers sent this and i just have to say that you
should go get a hobby instead of spamming bruceman inboxes to cope with superman
and batman fighting

Anonymous asked:

I don’t really see the reason everyone’s so dismissive of Clark/Bruce when he’s lasted
longer than any of Bruce’s other relationships?

batharbor answered:

I suspect you sent this to start shit, but I’ll answer anyway, just in case you meant this in
good faith.
What non-Gothamites don’t get is that this isn’t out of the ordinary for Bruce. Out of all
his many relationships (documented here) more than 70% have lasted longer than two
months. He and Clark have just hit the one month mark, which is a fairly good sign, but
in no way indicative of a long-term relationship.

People jumping on Keyne or Brark or whatever they’re calling it and claiming that it’s
definitive proof against Bruceman don’t know anything about Bruce. Like, all the best to
Clark Kent, but I highly doubt he’s the one. First of all, he doesn’t have the long history
with Bruce that Bruce’s most serious relationships have been built on.

In my opinion, there have only been two people out of all his public partners that Bruce
has ever been serious about: Julie Madison and Harvey Dent. Julie is considered to be
Bruce’s first love, the true turning point from his short-term flings to a meaningful
relationship. They break up in the end, obviously, but for a while it really seemed like
they were meant to be. More on that under the cut.

As for Harvey, it’s been almost universally agreed that if the Two-Face incident never
happened, he and Bruce would probably have been married by now. Harvey’s situation
is tragic for a number of reasons, but one of the saddest parts is how truly happy he and
Bruce looked when they were together.

Keep reading

Anonymous asked:

If you’re from Metropolis why don’t you ship superbat?

friendlyfan answered:

I mean, just because Superman is from Metropolis doesn’t mean all Metropolitans are
his fans. I don’t even mean that in an evil Lex Luthor “I hate Superman” way!

I’m just saying that people in Metropolis have access to the outside world; is it so weird
that I might care about two people in my neighboring city? Is it so strange that I can also
come to the same conclusion that thousands of Gothamites have?

Don’t get me wrong, I really love the friendship between World’s Finest. I think Batman
and Superman are truly best friends and probably know each other best out of all the

🙂
League members. But that doesn’t translate into a romantic relationship, sorry! Real life
isn’t always a friends to lovers fic, if you get what I’m saying.

Anonymous asked:

god ur such a good writer but ur taste in ships sucks so bad

 friendlyfan answered:

Look, I know my friends told me not to give any attention to trolls, but I thought I would
take this as an opportunity to make my stance on Superbat (since I assume that’s the ship
you’re trying to allude to without incriminating yourself) clear once and for all.

I don’t ship it, and I never will. Sorry! I just do not see whatever it is that Superbat fans
see in their interactions, at least not on a reciprocated level.

If you follow me, you should know that I’ve said before that I do think Superman and
Batman are good friends. They clearly enjoy each other’s company and work well as a
team, but beyond that, I don’t think any relationship between them could ever work out,
mostly because I do not believe that Batman would ever have romantic feelings for
Superman.

I can entertain the thought that Superman has feelings for Batman. I think it’s very
probable that he could fall in love with Batman for all the same reasons that Bruce has.
But Batman, on the other hand, is slow to trust and very deeply devoted to Gotham. It is
highly likely that years before he met Superman, Batman already found someone else to
entrust his heart to. Someone who cares about protecting Gotham as much as he does.

I think he did allow Superman into his life as a friend, but you can find proof anywhere
online that the process was a long one. The amount of trust, of understanding, that it
would take for Batman to let him in any farther — it would require decades. Why would
Batman bother with that when he already has someone else by his side?

For Superman and Batman, anything more than friendship is never going to happen.

Lois coming over to Clark’s place isn’t exactly unusual, but normally it’s a scheduled event,
and not because she needs a place to crash because she got locked out of her apartment after a
disastrous blind date. But they’re friends, and Clark is always happy to hang out (when he
isn’t in a rush to go stop crime), so he readily opens up his door to her.

“Are you sure this is okay?” she asks again as she kicks off her shoes. “Bruce won’t mind?”
she says with a leer.

“If Bruce thought you were available, he’d toss me to the curb in a heartbeat.” Lois had gone
through an entire rainbow of emotion when she first heard the news about him and Bruce, but
she seems to have settled on using it as a source of entertainment, despite Clark warning her
he didn’t see it lasting very long.

“No way, he’s totally into you. Haven’t you been reading the gossip columns?”
“Been a little busy trying to meet my own deadlines,” he tells her, going into the kitchen to
heat up a kettle of water for hot cocoa. When he’s alone he usually just heat-visions the water
himself, so it’s a good thing he has the kettle around for his rare guests. “If you need a
shower, feel free to grab any towel from the closet.”

“Sounds good, thanks. Hey, do you mind if I borrow your laptop for a sec? I’ve been waiting
on an email from a source, but my phone’s about to die. She said she was gonna get back to
me tonight…”

“Sure, as long as you don’t close any of my tabs-”

Wait. Fuck.

“Uh, Lois,” Clark says, almost dropping his mug on the floor in his rush to walk back to his
living room as fast as he can without using super speed. “Actually, the laptop- if you could
give me a minute- I was- um. Watching porn? And I don’t-”

"Clark. What the hell is this," Lois asks, staring at Clark's Bruceman WIP folder. Clark's first
instinct is to fly away, but that would still leave his fic on display for her to see. His second
instinct is to blast a hole straight through his laptop screen with his heat vision, which isn't
much better. He’d have to do like fifty commissions to buy a new laptop. Also then he’d have
to explain to Lois that he’s Superman and that would be the biggest problem of all.

“Nothing!” he says, sliding across the hardwood floors to slam his laptop closed. “Just some
stuff for work, you know how it is-”

Lois silences him with a harsh shush. “Clark Joseph Kent, why are you writing Real Person
Fiction about Bruce Wayne and Batman?”

Clark’s mind can move dozens of times faster than a human’s, and yet he finds himself at a
complete loss for what to do. Lois must realize he’s shell-shocked when he doesn’t do
anything but stare at her for a whole minute, and she drags him over to the couch and forces
him to sit down beside her.

“Hey. Smallville. You in there? Look, I’m sorry I accidentally found out about your…
hobby…but it is, frankly, pretty weird considering your very personal relationship with one of
your, uh, subjects, so if you wanna explain, I’m all ears. I’m not saying you have to tell me,
but as your friend, I just want to make sure you’re not getting involved in something that’s
going to get you in trouble.”

Clark has to take another minute to calm his racing heart and swallow down his stress before
he chokes out, “No, I- I’ll tell you about it. I’ll tell you everything. I just need a minute to
collect my thoughts.”

“Okay,” she says, rubbing a soothing circle into his knee. “Just tell me this first: are you
dating Bruce as some kind of crazy experiment? Some weird fan research project?”

“No! It’s not like that. It’s not what the media thinks either, but- I’m not using Bruce. I would
never do that to him.”
“Then tell me what this is really about.”

“Alright, just- let me make the cocoa first.”

Once they're seated again, hot cocoa in hand, Clark starts at the very beginning, with his
microwave. The writing commissions, the research into Bruce’s and Batman’s connections
and his descent into Bruceman hell. The lovely community he found with fellow fans, the
delight he gets from writing, the pure and sincere love he and his friends have for the two
halves of their ship.

He leaves out any details that would reveal too much about his ties to Superman and the
League, spinning himself as a serious Batman fanboy instead.

His attempt to cheer Bruce up after his failure to go public with Batman turning into this
whole fake boyfriend situation. The friendship that’s developed as a result.

Clark decides not to tell her about the weird moment of weakness he suffered after the
ballgame; since then, nothing of the sort has happened again, so he chalked it up to a
temporary fit of frustration at being terminally single.

“Anyway, that’s where we are now. Bruce and I are just friends, each playing a part. It’s only
a matter of time before we stage a breakup, I’m sure.”

Lois nods, staring down at her now empty mug as she mulls something over. “This…has
cleared up a lot of my questions, but I still have one that’s been bothering me.”

“Okay, hit me.”

“Why haven’t you stopped writing romantic fanfiction about your boyfriend with another
man?!”

“Lo, I just explained this! He’s not really my boyfriend-”

“Clark, five of the last seven interviews you’ve had with Bruce Wayne have ended in a date!
And then three other times he swanned over here to hang out with you for fun! He didn’t
even have business here! Do you even read the news, or do you just write it while
blindfolded? Honestly, I can’t believe Perry hasn’t pulled you from your Gotham assignments
yet, but it guess it’s the plausible deniability since the two of you have never been caught
kissing on camera-”

“We’re not going to go that far,” Clark protests, thanking his lucky stars no one captured that
ambiguous moment on film. Also, Bruce did have business to attend to, he told Clark
himself.

“Well, sorry for assuming you might make out with the man who keeps taking you out on
dates!”

“Like I told you, it’s all just an act!”

“Act, schmact- Clark, have you seen the pictures? Half the time he looks totally smitten with
you. And the other half…he’s definitely got Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy playing on repeat
in his head.”

“Lois!”

“What? C’mon, even the clickbait writers have noticed your Kansas farm chic, Smallville.
They’re pretty sure you’re going to fuck the spirit of Christmas back into his decrepit city
slicker soul.”

“I think he’s Jewish so that would be weird,” Clark mumbles.

“The point is, whether you think it’s real or not, everybody else does. Possibly including
Bruce.”

“He doesn’t.”

“Okay, well, for a guy who doesn’t think he’s dating you, he’s sure willing to buy you a hell
of a lot of stuff! He sent you a three hundred dollar pressure cooker!”

“He’s rich, he could send you one too, if you wanted!” Clark exclaims.

“I mean, maybe!” Lois shouts back, before putting her hands up. “No! We’re getting
distracted again. The point is this: you’ve never actually had a conversation about the state of
your relationship, have you?” At Clark’s hesitant shake of his head, she sighs, her posture
softening.

“I think he really likes you, Clark. I understand that you’re convinced about his secret
romance with Batman, and I doubt I can dissuade you from believing in it. But, have you
ever considered that they might have broken up? He’s never talked to you about Batman the
entire time you’ve been together. Even if we assume that they really were a couple, it’s not
like Bruce knows that you know. It would be kind of shitty of him to lead you on if you truly
think of him as your boyfriend, so…isn’t it possible that this isn’t a lie to him? Isn’t it
possible that Bruce really, honestly wants to be with you?”

It’s an unbidden reminder of that flash of vulnerability in Bruce’s eyes when Clark was still
close enough to kiss. It causes him to mentally flip through every memory he has of Bruce’s
face when he looks at Clark. The thoughtful consideration and slightly furrowed brow. The
small smile that’s become a rare reward for when Clark is particularly clever or entertaining.
The fan of his lashes against his cheeks when he lets out a huff of amusement and glances
away.

Is that how Bruce looks when he’s smitten?

No. Lois is just reading too much into things. Clark knows the truth.

“No, Lois. I know it isn’t.”

“My last question then,” she says, looking Clark straight in the eyes, “Can you honestly say
that you don’t have any feelings for Bruce at all? That, during the course of these last few
months, you’ve never wondered at all if what the two of you are selling to the public could
become real?”

This gives Clark pause. He likes Bruce as a person, that much he knows.

And sometimes, he thinks he can imagine how it would feel if these lunch dates meant more
than they do.

But that hypothetical world still can’t compare to how it felt when Clark spotted Batman in
Metropolis the other night. The sensation of having his heart torn out of his chest all over
again when Batman lifted a hand in greeting from his rooftop, but glided off without saying a
word to Clark — he isn’t even 5% over Batman yet. He knows what love feels like. Wouldn’t
he know if he were suffering from such an affliction again?

Besides, it’s all a moot point.

“I’m going to shower, and you think about it, okay?” Lois says, noticing Clark is lost in his
thoughts. She leans in to give him a quick hug, and then leaves him there on the couch to
mull this over.

For a few minutes, Clark just sits there, head propped up by the cushions as he watches the
ceiling, images of B and Bruce and himself rotating through his mind in a mystifying parade.

In another life, under different circumstances, might he have leaned in for that kiss?

Might Bruce have accepted?

Clark pulls his phone from his pocket, already searching through his contacts before he even
conceptualizes what he’s going to say or why he’s calling. He just needs to hear Bruce’s
voice to see if it helps him understand why he feels so suddenly lost at sea.

“Clark?” Bruce answers on the third ring, his voice slightly breathless. There’s a metallic
clank, possibly Bruce putting something on the ground.

“Hi, Bruce. Sorry, did I call at a bad time?” He can hear Dick in the background cooing, “Is it
your boyfriend?” but his voice fades as Bruce walks away from him.

“No, not at all. I have a few minutes to spare. What’s up?”

Clark hesitates, not having thought this far. “I just wanted to see how you were doing. I heard
that the Scarecrow got loose in Gotham again yesterday.”

Bruce makes a noise that Clark recognizes as exasperation by now. “Yeah, he was all over the
city last night. A lot of people have taken to carrying around a gas mask in their bags just in
case. It’s part of the Essential Gotham Survival Kit.”

“Oh god. What else is in there?”

“The usual. Something sharp to cut vines. Flashlight and matches in case someone shuts
down the power again. Some two dollar bills; Two-Face takes them in exchange for freedom
on occasion. Clown spray.”

“Clown spray? Some kind of formula that keeps the Joker at bay?”

“Oh, it’s just pepper spray but there’s polka dots on the bottle. Anyway, Batman dealt with
the fear gas situation and we made it out fine.”

“Tell him how cool Batman was!” Dick yells from a distance, and Bruce hushes him. Clark
doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry.

“Sorry, ignore him. He should be finishing his chores if he wants to go back to New York
tomorrow,” Bruce says, enunciating very clearly for his son’s benefit.

“Did you ever find out more about his girlfriend?” Clark asks, amused at the boo that Dick is
hollering from wherever he is.

“Apparently it’s ‘complicated’ and he doesn’t know if their date was really a date.”

Me too, Dick.

“Poor Dick. Tell him to bring her flowers. Everyone likes flowers.” Clark brought Bruce
daisies on their second fake date and Bruce spent the entire outdoor concert holding them
very carefully in his arms.

“I’ll suggest it next time he comes running through, pulling his hair out.”

Clark chuckles at the image, remembering his own teenage romantic struggles. “I wish him
all the best. I’ll let you go now. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“That’s sweet of you,” Bruce says warmly, his voice dipping lower. “Be careful on your end,
too. I heard that there were some mob related shootings in Metropolis recently, and I know
you and Ms. Lane cover the crime beat on occasion. Please take care.”

“Don’t worry, we’re both very good at running. Well, Lois tends to head toward the danger,
but I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Glad to hear it. Have a good night, Clout.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Wayne.”

Clark catches the trace of a laugh right before he hangs up, and finds himself smiling
unconsciously in response. For several heartbeats afterwards, he just holds his phone in both
hands and stares at the corner of his apartment, unseeing.

It feels the same. The lightness in his chest, the warmth that spreads over his whole body
when he hears the hint of laughter in Bruce’s voice. It feels just like it did when Batman let
Clark assist him in Gotham for the first time. It feels like the euphoric high of seeing B’s
smile after a plan comes to fruition, or the solid comfort of gripping B’s hand in his after a
hard won battle.
It feels a whole lot like falling in love.

“Clark?” Lois says, breaking him out of his daze however many minutes later. She’s looking
at him with concern, head tilted so she can towel her hair dry.

“You were right,” he tells her numbly. “If things were different, I would want it to be real.”

In another life, maybe he and Bruce could love each other.

But not in this one.

The path to getting over Batman absolutely cannot lead to falling for his lover. That would be
the worst case scenario. All-consuming agony. Clark might as well tie himself to a slab of
kryptonite and deliver himself to LexCorp if he’s looking for ways to ruin his own life.

Clark already likes Bruce a good deal more than he should. He’s pretty sure he can still call
those feelings platonic, but if he gets swept up in this situation, that might not hold true
forever.

Shadow’s concerns come rushing back like a premonition.

In the end, they’re going to leave, and it’s going to be my fault for seeing all the signs and
letting it happen anyway.

In the end, Bruce is going to dump Clark once he’s ready to move onto the next charade to
hide his real relationship. They probably can’t even stay friends, because the media will be
scrutinizing them both too closely. Clark’s just going to be the guy dumb enough to develop a
crush on the man that the love of his life is going to marry. God, what a total mess.

No, Clark will have to put an end to this fake dating thing before he gets in too deep.

He can’t allow himself to shatter his already broken heart.

 Chapter 10
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

“Aw, do you really have to break up with him?” Dick asks over the phone. “He’s so nice!”

“He is also 100% convinced that I’m dating myself and would never do anything to
jeopardize that,” Bruce replies as he sets aside his soldering iron. Clark’s behavior over the
last few months have done nothing but solidify that certainty in Bruce’s mind. However he
came to arrive at Bruceman, he did so with absolute conviction, and is now so entrenched in
it that even if Bruce were to pull off the cowl in front of him, Clark still might not believe it.

“Okay, but counterpoint: you could just tell him it’s not true and that you hate Batman’s guts
after he broke your heart but the love of a handsome farmer might be able to heal your scars.
You obviously like him.”

“Counterpoint to your counterpoint: it doesn’t matter how much I like him, he’s still highly
suspicious and I can’t in good conscience date someone who could prove to be a danger to
the League.”

“What? You date dangerous people all the time, B.”

“This is different,” Bruce dismisses without explaining how it’s different. “He knew about
the Watchtower, Dick. He knows that the Justice League is planning to put a base of
operations in space, he knows a bunch of little details about us that, collectively, tell me he
has some inside knowledge about League members. Perhaps a source. Not everyone takes
infosec as seriously as we do.”

“Yeah, but it’s all random, inconsequential stuff like Wonder Woman enjoying frisbee. Green
Arrow being in love with Black Canary. Superman’s long-distance ventriloquism. Do you
really think someone’s intentionally gathering that kind of data?”

“I can’t count it out.”

“Maybe Clark is just really good at extrapolating things! He’s a reporter, right? Isn’t it
possible he just…made some really good guesses based on observation?”

“It’s not impossible, but there are so many details that only show up in his stories, and aren’t
common fanon shared by other fans. He knows something or someone, but he’s guarded
enough not to let it slip in casual conversation.”

Bruce isn’t surprised at this point, having seen how Clark has betrayed no sign of his online
activities in any of his meetings with Bruce. The man is oddly well suited to keeping secrets,
so it wouldn’t be difficult for him to keep another.
The only thing Bruce has really been able to establish in the last three months is that Clark
likely isn’t dating him to access more information about the Justice League. He already has
enough insider information from elsewhere. He really does agree to Bruce’s continued
propositions out of the loyalty of a misguided fan. Bruce doesn’t know how he feels about it.

“But you inspected almost everyone in the League and everyone’s passed muster so far. Well,
everyone except-”

“I’m aware, Dick.”

Dick sighs. “You know, you need to talk to him again eventually. He misses you! You can tell
just from seeing his face in the news.”

“I will. The next time there’s a League meeting.” Bruce knows he shouldn’t be putting it off,
but the thought of seeing Kal so close, speaking to him one-on-one— it still makes him feel
too raw, too vulnerable, and he’s weak enough to Kal already as it is.

“You’d better. Okay, but if no one in the League is supplying Clark with information, then
that means he has some other way of acquiring it, right?”

“Exactly. I’ve already bugged his workplace, but I should extend my surveillance to his
apartment as well.” He hasn’t heard anything relevant to this particular case from his Daily
Planet audio, but he’s learned a lot about Lois Lane’s revision process. Clark was probably
right; Bruce respects the hell out of that woman, but he doubts he could handle her.

“I’d call it unethical if you weren’t already catfishing the poor guy. Are you going to keep
that up, by the way?”

“For now. Clark doesn’t connect Shadowscribble with any of my identities, so he may be
more likely to slip up around him.” Never mind that Bruce keeps getting sidetracked in those
conversations as well. His last attempt ended in some bizarre confessional toward the person
causing him this headache in the first place. All of his usual intel gathering methods are
sloppy whenever Clark is involved. It’s one of the reasons why Bruce needs to break things
off. “But it’s best for Bruce and Clark to go their separate ways and for me to resort to my
usual methods. I’ve gotten as much as I can from these dates.”

“I’m pretty sure you got as much as you could, like, six dates ago,” Dick mutters. Bruce
doesn’t dignify that with a response, mostly because he really has no justification. “Just don’t
be too awful when you dump him, okay? Even if he’s really sketchy he doesn’t deserve that.”

“I’ll do my best to let him down gently, but I doubt it will matter to him. You know he’s just
having fun playing along with me.”

“I dunno, I’ve seen the pictures and sometimes I think there’s really something there. But
anyway, keep me updated, okay? And talk to Superman!”

“Stay sharp. Don’t forget your flowers.”

“We’re not talking about that!” Dick says hurriedly before hanging up, leaving Bruce to
chuckle to himself.

He resumes soldering the replacement circuit board he needs to install in the Batmobile as he
thinks about Dick’s words.

He’ll never admit it to anyone, especially his son, but Clark has done the one thing Bruce
hadn’t realized was possible.

Clark makes Bruce forget about the heartache that still afflicts him whenever he thinks about
Kal. The first week after their talk, Bruce had been in a depressive daze as he tried to ignore
every wandering thought of Superman in an attempt to quickly move on. It was thoroughly
unsuccessful, and his moping had begun to take its toll on both Alfred and Dick. But that day
spent with Clark had been exactly what Clark had said it would be: a distraction. A moment
of respite from the pain of losing someone he could never have.

Clark Kent isn’t just the meek and disheveled reporter that he used to pretend to be. He’s
observant and considerate, and very sincerely kind. He’s loyal and caring and clever, and
under different circumstances, Bruce would really enjoy having him as a partner and friend.

But he’s also a security risk, and Bruce needs to figure out how.

He can do this. He isn’t a coward and he isn’t a child. He can talk to his best friend without
hiding in the shadows. There aren’t many shadows in the Hall, anyway. Structural flaw.

“Batman?” Martian Manhunter asks when he notices Bruce hovering by the doorway,
mentally debating whether he should attack Kal now or catch him unawares in the corridor
later, when he won’t be expecting Bruce. He needs to minimize the chance of Kal trying to
fly away.

“There seems to be a lot on your mind,” J’onn continues, looking perturbed by Bruce’s iron
grip on the doorframe and his blueprints.

“Apologies, J’onn. There’s something I need to speak to Superman about, but he’s currently
occupied.”

“He appears to be done perusing the mission list. I wish you luck with your endeavor.” J’onn
dips his head in a slight nod, his form of encouragement since Bruce isn’t the most receptive
to touch. “We are all hoping for a positive result.”

Bruce didn’t realize everyone cared about the potential leak so much. It makes him feel a
little pleased that his lectures on security were absorbed after all. “As am I, my friend.”
Nodding goodbye, Bruce swoops into the room with renewed conviction.

“Kal, a question.” His voice is steady, collected. Good.

“Yes, B?” Superman turns quickly, a beautiful smile lighting his face. He seems energetic
today, but in a strangely frenetic way. Perhaps he’s been soaking up too much sun and needs
to go do some rescues to let all that enthusiasm out.

Even his little swoop of hair seems bouncier than usual. Bruce swallows dryly, trying to
remember to stay on task, but Kal’s luminosity after their separation makes it hard to focus.

Just because Bruce prefers the darkness doesn’t mean he forgot how it feels to be graced by
sunlight. And yet he thought himself capable of denying himself this for much longer?
Conceited fool.

“Has-” and Bruce has to clear his throat, fix his growl, “anyone ever asked you about the
Watchtower? About its construction or design, or any details about its existence?”

Kal takes a moment to consider, and then shakes his head. “Not that I know of. I’ve never
mentioned it to anybody outside of the League. Why, is there something wrong with the
construction process? Should we be concerned?”

It’s become easy for Bruce to tell when Superman is lying, and there’s no hint of his typical
double blink or habitual floating heels. As far as he knows, he’s never revealed anything to
anyone. Bruce relaxes slightly; that’s one weight off his mind. Unfortunately, it leaves only
the possibility that Dick mentioned: Clark must be acquiring his intel through some other
means.

Bruce shakes his head and straightens the blueprints in his hand. “Not yet, but I’ll keep you
in the loop. I was just informed of a possible…vulnerability, but I don’t think it’s worth
concerning the team at this time.”

“Okay, I’ll trust you on this, but don’t hesitate to rope any of us in if it seems to be an actual
problem.”

Bruce nods and quickly runs a cost-benefit analysis of trying to continue the conversation by
pivoting to another topic. On the one hand, he misses spending time with Kal. On the other,
he’s starting to feel that same quiet despair that settled in after their talk at the Fortress. But
it’s no worse than any other aches and pains he feels every day. He should be strong enough
to withstand it for the sake of their friendship.

He should finally close his heart and allow it to heal.

Mind made up, he’s about to bring up the unusual whale sightings off the Metropolis seaport
when Kal swivels abruptly, clearly hearing something that needs to be dealt with.

“Duty calls?” Bruce asks pointlessly, if only to be graced with Kal’s attention one more time
before he leaves.

“Yeah, a wildfire out west,” Kal says apologetically. “Sorry to cut this short. But B, next time
you’re in Metropolis again, give me a call. You know I’m always happy to help with
whatever you need.”
“I know,” Bruce says, feeling guilty about how he blatantly ignored him during his last visit.
But it was a minor case, nothing he needed to trifle Kal with. Besides, his mind had been full
of conflicting thoughts about Clark at the time, and he would’ve made for even worse
company than usual. “You’d better get to it.”

Kal flashes him a smile as he departs, and it almost feels like nothing between them has
changed.

It’s a message that Bruce should take to heart. It’s time to really let Kal go. It’s time he re-
learn how to be a good friend.

Before Bruce has a chance to bug Clark’s place, their relationship comes to an end.

His plan was to break things off after setting up his audio surveillance, but Clark throws a
wrench in those plans by dumping him first.

They’re in Gotham again, Clark having come to finally make good on his offer for drinks. It’s
a little silly, given that Bruce doesn’t actually care much for alcohol and Clark apparently
doesn’t either, based on the faces he makes as he peruses the menu. Just like the face he made
when they went for high tea once; at least he’d enjoyed the pastries and tiny sandwiches.

Bruce asks for a slice of flourless chocolate cake as well, and as they sit in their secluded
booth waiting for their orders, Clark’s leg jitters nervously against the parquet floor.

“Too much coffee this morning?” Bruce jokes, watching as Clark makes a concerted effort to
stop fidgeting.

“Too little sleep, actually,” Clark laughs, reaching up to fiddle with his frames. The warm
glow of the incandescent lights overhead catch on the glass, casting a glare that obscures his
eyes for a moment.

“Does your mattress need upgrading too? I’ve heard that Queen Industries has a new model
on the market that I could get for you-”

“No, the mattress is fine- you really don’t need to buy me anything else. You’ve been too
generous already.”

Bruce knows he shouldn’t say it, but years of habit are hard to break. “A new mattress could
be considered a long-term investment on my part…”

As expected, Clark’s face turns a very nice rosy color, but he’s saved from the embarrassment
of pirouetting away from Bruce’s innuendo by the timely arrival of their waiter.

Bruce cuts off a small bite of chocolate cake first, occupying himself with bittersweet cocoa
as he wonders why Clark isn’t as cheerful as usual. A long day at work?
“It’s quite rich, but not as sugary as the treats you usually enjoy,” he tells Clark as he slides
the plate across the table.

“That’s alright, not everything can be sweet,” Clark murmurs as he takes a bite. “How was
your day today?”

In broad strokes, Bruce talks about WE’s preparations for an upcoming collaboration with
Gotham clinics, as well as Dick’s recent interest in motocross. He sips at his scotch while
Clark tells him about Lois’ latest run-in with LexCorp security. While the story is plenty
entertaining, Clark isn’t speaking with his usual zest, and Bruce isn’t sure if it’s something he
should broach. But Clark is usually forthright about not being in the best mood, and he hasn’t
said anything yet. It might be better to continue on like usual to cheer him up.

“Have you gone to see the whales yet?” Bruce starts to ask, figuring that Clark might also
have some interest in the phenomenon but he can’t get more than the first two words out
before Clark suddenly downs the entirety of his glass of vodka cranberry.

Taken aback by this action, Bruce isn’t prepared to hear the next words that Clark says with
deliberate care.

“Bruce, I- there isn’t an easy way to say this, but- I think it’s best if we stopped seeing each
other.”

Bruce knew it was coming. One way or another, this affair was nearing its natural end, but
that doesn’t lessen the feeling of being sucker punched. He supposes he thought that he
would have the chance to stop on his own terms.

He suspects he doesn’t do a good job of veiling his reaction, based on the way Clark winces,
but he pulls all the overspill of raw emotion back in with a gentle inhale, summoning up his
best disaffected Brucie Wayne smile with practiced automaticity.

This is perfectly fine. It was the next logical step in his plan. It’s not like this ever meant
anything, anyway.

He allows himself a three second count to steady his voice before speaking.

“I understand. The intense media scrutiny is a lot to integrate into your everyday life. I
wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

Clark sees the offering of an out as what it is, and gratefully latches on. “Yeah, it’s- I guess it
was more than I was expecting. I’m…usually not on that side of the pen.” He blinks rapidly
and looks around the room, but no one has noticed them here.

“It’s a lot to adjust to. It’s ruined more than one fling of mine in the past. I hope it hasn’t
caused you too much stress. I apologize for not noticing sooner-”

“No! Please don’t apologize,” Clark says quickly, almost jolting out of his chair. “You’ve
done nothing wrong. I- I really do like you a lot, Bruce. Our time together has been
wonderful. But I think- I don’t think I’m ready for the direction that our relationship is
heading toward.”

Of course you aren’t; you think I’m using you as a smokescreen for myself. The premise is so
absurd that Bruce wants to laugh, but he’s still stinging from the situation. He can’t blame
Clark for calling off what he presumes to be a fake relationship. It sure doesn’t help that in
his attempt to help Bruce, he’s put himself in the crosshairs of other angry fans; anyone
would become tired of it after a while. He probably doesn’t want to drag this on for so long
that it casts a shadow over his real future romances.

“I see,” Bruce says, nodding as he draws his fingers through the pearls of condensed water on
the outside of his glass. “I can’t say I’m not disappointed, but I understand. Some things just
aren’t meant to be.”

The words carry more truth than Clark will ever know.

To Bruce’s surprise, the regret on Clark’s face doesn’t seem to be an affectation. “Yeah. In a
different lifetime, maybe it would have worked out.”

Is that true? Was there some version of reality where this could have been real?

Unlikely. Clark is hiding too many secrets and Bruce has too little trust to spare.

“But, in the here and now,” Clark continues, his gaze flickering away briefly before he fixes
his eyes on Bruce again, “I’m still hung up on somebody, and it isn’t fair for me to lead you
on when I don’t know when I’ll be free of those feelings.”

Oh. Bruce doesn’t know how he forgot about that. K had said as much to Shadow, but Bruce
hadn’t yet looked into the matter since it didn’t have any bearing on the League. Perhaps
Clark was trying to use Bruce as a distraction as well.

As someone in the same boat, he’d found it soothing to have Clark as an escape from his
feelings for Kal. But he can see how it might not have worked for Clark. Being with Bruce
probably reminded him of what he couldn’t have with the person he really loves. It’s
understandable why it might hurt him too much to continue on.

“There’s no timeframe for our emotions,” he says, reaching his hand halfway across the table
as a reassurance. He feels like he’s parroting words that countless people have told him in the
past that he’s never believed. He’s always wanted to get over his terrible feelings as quickly
as possible, though he often completely fails to do so. “You should take the time you need to
process them. I’ve also enjoyed spending time with you, but I can see why this has to come to
an end. It isn’t really a proper substitute for love, is it?”

Clark visibly swallows, and then gives Bruce a wavering smile. “No, I guess it isn’t. Thank
you for everything, Bruce. I know it sounds cliché, but I hope we can remain friends.”

Given the absolute hell that the media is going to rain down on them over the next few
weeks, Bruce has his doubts that it’ll be possible, but he nods regardless. “I’d like that.”
A silence falls around them, and Bruce knows it’s a sign that this night, and this relationship,
is coming to an end.

It was never going to be more than a temporary fling. It was only ever going to last until
Bruce got his information and Clark had his fun. So why does it hurt in almost the same way
that it did that night at the Fortress?

Why does it feel like Bruce has given up more than he was prepared to lose?

In a moment of weakness, he yields. Throws his pride to the wind. Later, he can blame it on
the alcohol in his blood. Right now, he just wants to do something stupid.

“Can I have one kiss goodbye?” he asks quietly, taking in the way Clark’s shoulders stiffen in
surprise.

“I- that is-” His line of sight flashes rapidly between Bruce’s mouth and his eyes, his
eyebrows creasing in a way that makes him look very conflicted. Bruce leans forward
slightly, and he hears the quick intake of Clark’s breath before his expression grows even
more guilty.

Right, of course. Batman.

“Only if you’re willing, of course. He won’t mind, I promise,” Bruce says softly. He doesn’t
move, doesn’t put any pressure on Clark to do anything he doesn’t want to do. He just sits
there and hopes.

“Are you sure?” Clark asks hoarsely.

“Do you think there’s anybody who knows him as well as I do?” Manipulative, Bruce knows,
but it has its intended effect. Clark stands abruptly, as if to get through the motion before he
can stop himself, and walks slowly around the table to stand in front of Bruce.

Before Bruce can stand to meet him, Clark is bending down, one broad hand coming up to
cup Bruce’s jaw. Bruce has but a second to meet Clark’s gaze before he finds his eyelids
falling closed as their lips meet.

Bruce opens up for Clark, just enough that their kiss can’t be called chaste. He tastes like
cranberry and chocolate, and he’s neither forceful nor shy, but before Bruce can reflect on it
any further, the kiss ends. Bruce’s eyes open in time to drink in the sight of Clark as he pulls
away: the faint spot of color on his cheeks, the shine of his reddened lips, the soft black curls
that Bruce will never run his fingers through.

“Thanks for the souvenir,” Bruce says, knowing his tone is distant. Cold. His walls
reassembled once more.

For the first and last time, Bruce lets Clark Kent go.

“Goodbye, Clark.”

Clark hesitates, but in the end he takes a step backward. “Goodbye, Bruce.”
With one last nod, Clark turns and walks away, leaving Bruce alone with his tumultuous
thoughts and too much cake.

Batfan @shadowscribble

💔
[Image of Bruce standing on a hill under an overcast sky, holding a scrap of black cloth
as he looks toward the Gotham skyline.]

fjdjgl @wikipedaling

Multiple people have confirmed that the Daily Planet’s Cat Grant was in attendance at
WE’s last press conference.

It’s not looking good, guys.

fresh pressed respecting women juice @poryvelo

Replying to @wikipedaling

no please blark were so cute I can’t believe this is the end

Free Bugs @sad_rock_dept

Replying to @wikipedaling

IF CLARK KENT THE MIDWESTERN Y/N OF OUR DREAMS CAN’T LAND A

HOT BILLIONAIRE THEN WHAT HOPE DO WE HAVE

K @FriendlyFan1939

Entropy

Sometimes, even love isn’t enough. Batman finds this out the hard way.

Bruceman, T rating, 4k words, hurt no comfort

Link below.

ann with a b @nonfrictionbook

anyway if the brulark breakup rumors are true i’m never believing in love again

Esther 💘 @semisemicolons
Replying to @nonfrictionbook

Got some bad news for you bestie

ann with a b @nonfrictionbook

Replying to @semisemicolons

i do NOT want to hear it and i am going to hibernate in my little cave until someone
tells me they are back together

Batfan @shadowscribble

nothing ever lasts

[Image of Bruce unconscious and covered in blood. Batman is hunched over his body,
looking horrified.]

Zzzahra @swordssoup
Replying to @shadowscribble

beautiful like always but shadow why are you doing this to us

who hurt you bb

blue @rewrapper
Replying to @swordssoup and @shadowscribble

wow, you and k are both out for blood these days, huh

thanks for making me cry at 2am!!

Batfan @shadowscribble
Replying to @rewrapper and @swordssoup

no happy endings in gotham -_-

pretz on the run @circus_logic

uhhh here’s something for the impromptu bman angst wave haha,,

[Image of a concerned Dick Grayson standing behind Bruce, who is shouting angrily at
an equally upset Batman.]
So, Bruce is single again, and the press have already caught on. In fact, they’re hounding him
so often that he puts off going to any events for two weeks, in an attempt to avoid
conversations about his breakup with Clark.

He finally has no choice but to attend a Gotham General fundraiser after being told by both
Leslie and Lucius that it would be very helpful if he showed up. With some difficulty he
manages to keep press questions about Clark to a minimum, redirecting them toward
information about the event at hand. Cat Grant gives him a pitying look before flirting
through an interview with him for old times’ sake; the kiss he leaves on her hand is filled
with more gratitude than he can convey.

When dinner is in full swing and the speeches have begun, Bruce excuses himself to hide in a
corner of the hospital atrium so he can check on his Arkham cameras. He’s heard
murmurings of a breakout, but so far, so quiet. He checks his messages, but there’s nothing
going on with Dick or the League either, so he takes a minute to write a comment on K’s
breakup fic.

Bruce would assume Clark is using them as the blueprint, but the feelings run too deep, so
it’s probably based on Clark’s actual heartbreak. Shadow leaves an effusive comment among
the wailing emojis and keysmashes as usual, even though the words bring him uncomfortably
back to their last night together.

He puts his phone away and heads back toward the dinner, but before he’s anywhere close to
his table, a gunshot rings through the air. It has him dropping to the floor as the screams
begin and men stream through the doors, guns in hand. Bruce scans the room; only half a
dozen assailants. Now he just needs to know what they’re after.

“Everybody shut the fuck up and sit down. Get your wallets out, your hands on your heads
and nobody gets hurt.”

Good old-fashioned robbery. Great. Bruce doesn’t have a way to slip away and grab a
Batsuit, but he should be able to take them if he can get them isolated from the other guests.
For now, it’s best for everyone to just calmly follow their instructions and turn over their
valuables, which goes well enough until they hear the sound of sirens.

Huh, unusually fast response time. Someone must’ve told Jim that the mayor is here. But a
cop presence equals jumpy thieves, and since they’re all armed, Bruce can see this ending
badly if he doesn’t step in.

“What the fuck, they weren’t supposed to be this fast!” one robber snarls at his compatriots.

“Shit, alright, we’ve gotta go. Grab someone to take with us.”

A shudder of fear runs through the crowd, so Bruce takes the chance to stand up slowly, his
hands in the air.
“Yes, hello, richest man in the city here,” he calls, pointing at himself.

“Are…you volunteering for hostage duty?” a tall robber asks.

“Well, no one else seemed up for it.”

“Don’t worry, he’s a pro,” another yells as he strips the rings off a woman’s hand and heads
toward the door. “Take Wayne and go.”

“C’mon, chop chop, let’s get this done.” Bruce holds out his wrists, waiting for a midsized
robber to ziptie them together.

“Uh, guess you’re coming up with us, Mr. Wayne.”

“Yep. Don’t worry, it’s not my first rodeo. Let’s get moving; I really don’t want to see a
shootout here.”

Somewhat bemused, the robbers grab their loot and hustle Bruce out the door with them and
into their car. He gets the dubious honor of the middle seat, and a black cloth bag over the
head to complete the look. They take off, tires squealing, before the police can pull up to the
scene.

They seem like reasonable enough men, so Bruce goes through the usual routine with them:
he’s willing to ride along with them in peace for as long as it takes to evade the police if they
don’t endanger any other civilians. He won’t press charges nor make any effort to find them,
so long as nobody gets hurt.

“We’ve actually met before, Mr. Wayne,” says the one in the passenger seat. “He’s a top
notch hostage, this one. Never spits or goes for the eyes.”

“Thank you,” Bruce says. “And you know, boys, if this career path doesn’t work out for you,
WE is always hiring.”

“We’ll keep it in mind, but the mailroom isn’t exactly my speed.”

“Well, we have openings in all different sectors of the economy. I couldn’t tell you what they
are, but I’m sure they exist.”

“Hey,” a new voice says, as the car makes a sharp right turn. “Is it true you broke up with
your boyfriend?”

Wow. Even here, he knows no peace.

“C’mon man, can’t you see it’s a sore subject? He hasn’t really talked about it in any of his
interviews,” says a robber in the backseat who hasn’t spoken until now.

“Was it that obvious?” Bruce asks, and gets some pitying noises of agreement in response.

“Just seemed from the magazines like you two were really hittin’ it off. Y’know, sharing ice
creams and stuff. So the sudden end was kinda shocking.”
“Ah. Well, my friend, some things just aren’t meant to be. Clark and I wanted different things
in life, so I respected his decision and let him go-”

“Wait, he dumped you? Is he crazy?” says the guy to Bruce’s left, outrage evident in his
voice.

“Yes, he did dump me, but let’s keep that to ourselves,” Bruce says quickly. “I don’t want the
tabloids harassing him.”

“You’re a better man than me, Mr. Wayne,” the driver says. “I bet he was Metropolis trash
anyway. You know how they are across the bay. Cowards, the lot of ‘em.”

Bruce clicks his tongue at him, but he can’t help his slight smile. “That’s not very charitable.”

“You know it’s true, though,” Passenger Seat says. “Only Gothamites can handle other
Gothamites. Who else can deal with the shit we see everyday?”

“Exactly! If I was into dudes, I would date you in a heartbeat,” says one of the backseat
robbers.

“That’s really sweet of you to say. I think it’s best I return to bachelor life for a while,” Bruce
sighs.

“You just need to find someone who’ll treat you right,” Leftie says.

The driver clears his throat. “...I actually always kinda thought you and the Bat maybe had
something going on.”

Bruce chokes on his breath, barely turning the noise into a cough. Bruceman might very well
be the epitome of Gotham pride. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I can see it,” Passenger Seat agrees. “He’d probably take good care of you. Like a
gruff but caring boyfriend.”

“Batman’s got a mean fuckin’ kick,” says Rightie, “but he also looks like he can make a
decent lasagna.”

“Does he??” Bruce asks, trying to picture himself with a lasagna in hand.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t get an answer to his question, because a sonic boom rips through
the air and the top of their SUV gets its roof torn right off.

“Holy shit, it’s Superman-” Leftie yells as their entire car is lifted off the ground. Bruce can
hear them scrambling for guns, but from the yells and crunching of metal, Kal puts a stop to
that quickly enough.

“Um,” he says before he feels his entire car seat getting yanked out and deposited gently on
the ground. Kal has enough foresight to tug the bag from Bruce’s head, but no chance to free
his hands before he lifts off again.
“Don’t be rough on them,” Bruce calls as Superman flies off with the whole car of robbers.

Well. That wasn’t exactly how he’d planned to end the night.

He can probably snap the tie himself and call Alfred for a ride home, but he knows it’ll just
alarm Kal if he’s suddenly gone, so he waits patiently and thinks about his ridiculous lot in
life. He’s never actually interacted with Kal in his civilian identity, and he feels at a loss for
how to act. Flirty? Professional? Appreciative?

Bruce still hasn’t decided when Kal alights next to him, wearing his usual heroic smile, the
one that makes people feel like everything’s going to be okay. It mostly makes Bruce want to
heckle him, but that would be inappropriate, so he settles for polite but distant. Better to be
too cold than to let Kal connect any dots between himself and Batman.

“Here, let me help you with that,” Kal says, reaching down to snap the tie and help Bruce to
his feet.

“Thank you, Superman. It’s an unusual honor to see you in Gotham.”

“Yes, your local hero is rather territorial. But I received word that he wasn’t available to save
you, so I thought it was the least I could do.”

Alfred must have called him on the League lines. How annoying. As if Bruce wouldn’t have
gotten out of this unscathed.

Kal must notice the irritation on Bruce’s face, because he quickly asks, “Can I give you a lift
back home?”

Bruce would normally refuse, still unwilling to subject himself to Kal’s proximity for too
long, but Bruice Wayne would never turn down a chance to go flying, so he sighs internally
and holds out his arms. “That would be delightful. Thank you.”

From the look on Kal’s face, he doesn’t quite buy Bruce’s slightly unenthusiastic tone, but he
scoops Bruce up anyway, helping to arrange him so he’s held securely against that bountiful
chest. Christ. What a situation. This is why Batman always opts for the shoulder hold.

Kal has them flying through the air at a leisurely pace, cognizant that Bruce isn’t used to
being whipped in the face with wind the way Batman is. Bruce finds himself vaguely
aggrieved by the consideration, though he doesn’t know why.

“I heard you volunteered to be taken hostage. You shouldn’t be so cavalier with your own
life, Mr. Wayne,” Kal says partway through the journey.

“I’d hardly call it cavalier. Someone had to go, and I’m both able-bodied and relatively fit.
Whatever might occur, I’m probably one of the people better suited for adapting to the
situation quickly.”

“As good a reason as that is, I do hope you know that the people who care about you would
be very distraught if you were to get hurt.”
“I knew what I was doing,” Bruce says crisply, averting his gaze toward the city below even
though his hands are buried in Superman’s cape. “I never come out of these situations with
anything worse than a few scrapes and scratches. In fact, I didn’t even need your help.”

“I know, Mr. Wayne,” Kal says, placating. “But just because all you Gothamites can hold
your own in this zany place doesn’t mean I can’t step in once in a while.”

Bruce’s hands clench even harder in the suit and he turns his eyes to meet Kal’s. “Batman
doesn’t have a problem with you flying around our city?” He knows for a fact that saving
errant billionaires isn’t high on Superman’s list of Batman-sanctioned Gotham activities,
whether or not Alfred called it in.

“Well, seeing as he asked for my help, I think he’d forgive me this once for not letting you
get shot in the face.”

“That was barely a risk factor.”

“I didn’t want to count it out. You’re known to be quite accident-prone, Mr. Wayne. When it
comes to your safety, I don’t want to take any chances. For that matter, hold on tight. I don’t
want to risk you breaking your neck.”

They pick up speed, but Bruce’s mind is caught on Kal’s last words. There’s something
familiar about the way he said it. Beyond the phrasing, beyond the sentiment. It’s his tone,
Bruce realizes. A touch amused, a hint of concern, and the way he enunciates Bruce’s
name…

He’s never directly spoken with Kal as Bruce Wayne, and now he can’t remember if he’s ever
come up in conversation between Superman and Batman before. So why does this sound so
familiar?

“Don’t feel like you need to do Batman’s bidding,” he says as he continues combing his
memory.

“It was really no trouble. Besides, it wasn’t too hard to find the one car speeding away from
the cops like a bat out of hell. Heh.”

“Such an observant man,” Bruce says dryly, and Kal laughs sheepishly.

“Ha, I try to be! I mean, I guess with the super senses it’s harder not to be observant, but at
the very least, people say I’m a pretty good listener and I’ve heard your voice before, so it
wasn’t too hard to pinpoint-”

Kal breaks off his rambling when he notices that Bruce is staring at him. Yet again, the sense
of déjà vu hits, and it worries at his brain even harder than before. He mentally replays every
conversation he’s had in the last month, wondering just why on earth it feels like they’ve
discussed this already. Why does it all sound—

No. Not sound. This wasn’t a verbal conversation. This was through text, online.

“Superman,” he says abruptly. “Have you ever lived anywhere besides Metropolis?”
“No, Metropolis is the only real home on Earth I’ve ever known,” Kal says, smiling
awkwardly, his lashes fluttering.

Double blink.

Liar.

“That’s a pity. Should’ve come to Gotham instead. We have better cheesecake.”

Kal lets out a little huff — the exact same motion that Bruce saw several weeks ago on a
different face — and says, “Okay, I know the pie crust is a controversial choice, but all in all,
I think our cheesecake is still pretty decent!”

“Of course you would.”

As Kal watches him quizzically, Bruce makes a dismissive gesture with his hand and starts to
really study him.

If Bruce were to rumple that slicked back hair, and draw attention from those unnaturally
bright eyes…soften the lines of those broad shoulders…

No.

It can’t be.

“Mr. Wayne-”

“Hush. I don’t want to hear anything from you right now, Metropolis fiend.” His tone is cross
and allows no room for disagreement so Kal obediently closes his mouth despite Bruce’s
unreasonable behavior.

Trade that photogenic grin for a sweet smile, that declarative tone for one a little more
hesitant but still keen. Throw a pair of glasses on him and swap the red and blue for a terrible
off the rack suit…

Holy identity reveal, Batman.

“You.”

“Me?” Kal-Clark Kent-El says, frowning a bit. He looks like a confused puppy. Adorable.
Bruce is so unbelievably pissed at him right now.

“You…are disgustingly handsome. It makes me feel threatened. Please put me down

somewhere.”

“But we’re not back at the manor yet-”

“Fine,” Bruce snaps, his voice dipping dangerously close to his growl. Fuck. “Just dump me
anywhere once you hit the manor grounds.”
“If you say so,” Kal agrees uncertainly, and speeds up just a bit faster.

Bruce leans back against Kal’s (Clark’s?!) chest as he tries to reconcile all the feelings in his
heart. Kal is his best friend. One of the people in the world who knows him best. Someone
who can’t return Bruce’s feelings but would never allow that to come between them. Bruce
still loves him, despite knowing he shouldn’t.

Clark is someone he would like to consider a friend. Someone who Bruce probably would
have fallen for, were it not for his feelings for Kal. Who is Clark. So Bruce fell in love with
him anyway. Because his love life is a joke.

He’s managed to get turned down by the same man twice. Bruce should tell Harvey about
this the next time he visits Arkham. He’d get a kick out of it.

They land at the edge of the manor’s rolling lawn while Bruce is still mid-mope, and he takes
a second to find his footing once Superman places him on the ground. He looks concerned
that Bruce is standing in the middle of the grass like a fawn who hasn’t yet learned how to
walk, and it’s the recognition that this is Clark, worried about his ex-fake-boyfriend Bruce,
that finally softens Bruce’s anger.

Ah, dear Clark. Always so worried that Bruce is going to trip through a window and fall to
his death.

“Superman, wait,” Bruce says as Kal lifts off the grass. He exhales, massaging the bridge of
his nose. “Sorry about being short with you earlier. I’ve just…”

“You’ve had a trying day,” Kal says gently, clasping his arm the way he used to clasp
Batman’s. Bruce misses that, all of his little affectionate touches, even though he would never
admit it aloud. “I don’t hold it against you.”

“That’s very kind of you. You really are as good a man as they say.”

Kal smiles bashfully, his golden skin blushing pink the same way Clark’s does whenever
Bruce turns up the dial on his teasing.

“I’ll do my best to live up to that belief. But Mr. Wayne, if you ever find yourself in trouble
again, please don’t hesitate to call for me. Uh. I mean, I understand if you want to ask for
Batman first, but he’s often very busy-”

“I appreciate the offer, Superman,” Bruce interrupts, knowing if he lets Kal continue he’ll
eventually want to throw a batarang at his face or kiss him. “I’ll consider it next time.”

“That’s all I ask. Have a good night.”

Kal takes off, a streak of color across the dark sky, and Bruce watches him leave, his
revelation unraveling a few unfortunate truths.

Clark is Kal. Clark is Superman.

Clark is also convinced that Bruce is in love with himself. Kal has built a booming fanfiction
career off the premise that his best friend is in love with himself.

Bruce had never seriously entertained the thought that Clark might be a League member
because it would be decidedly insane for one of them to be writing fanfiction about their
colleagues but Kal-El, last son of Krypton, beacon of hope for the entire world, apparently
did not think the same!

“What the fuck, what was he thinking, this doesn’t make any damn sense,” Bruce mutters to
himself as he powerwalks across the grounds and into the manor. “Complete disregard for
one, information security, two, the privacy of his friends, three, common fucking sense —
holy muffin batter, Kal, you fool, you absolute blockhead-”

He heads straight for the kitchen. Alfred, standing at the stovetop and stirring a pot of soup,
turns to raise an eyebrow at him.

“Master Bruce, you had quite an exciting evening.”

“Yes, and I need to talk to you about that. In the cave. Now, preferably.”

“Luckily the soup is almost done,” Alfred says pointedly, but Bruce huffs and hurries down
to the cave first, so he can gather his thoughts in peace.

Putting aside all of Bruce’s irritating feelings for Clark- Kal — ugh, he doesn’t even know
how to address him anymore — aside, the more important matter is confirming his discovery
so he can close the loop on this League leak business. He has no concrete plans to confront
Clark about his identity, but he needs to know for his own peace of mind.

The cave has one soundproofed room, and it’s there that Bruce drags Alfred, who insists on
forcing a bowl of pumpkin soup into his hands.

“Is this about your close encounter with Superman?” Alfred asks after Bruce finally drinks a
few spoons of soup.

“Yes. After our meeting, I have strong reason to believe that Superman’s civilian identity is
Clark Kent.”

“…the reporter whom you have been dating.”

“Plying for information,” Bruce corrects, and Alfred gives him a deeply skeptical look.

“What led you to this sudden conclusion?”

“The way he spoke to me, a certain turn of phrase — it sounded too familiar, and then from
there it was a matter of examining his face until I saw the truth.” Dully, he drinks another
spoonful before scowling at his bowl. “I can’t believe I never saw it. I can’t believe nobody
else ever saw it either.”

Alfred hums as he thinks about it, and then he nods once, gravely.
“The resemblance does seem uncanny now. So Mr. Kent did not have an inside source in the
Justice League. Mr. Kent is his own source.”

It explains away all of the odd little details that Clark knew for no discernible reason. Things
that Kal would’ve noticed about his friends and colleagues after years of working with them,
but could be thought of as fun invented tidbits by other fans.

“Kal wasn’t lying to me,” Bruce says, as the pieces come together. “He didn’t tell anyone
about the Watchtower. At least, not directly. As FriendlyFan he simply pretended to put the
pieces together between my press conference and common assumptions about the League.”

“A notion that could easily be chalked up to a good guess when the Watchtower is revealed.”

“Exactly. God. He really, genuinely believes that I’m funding the Watchtower as a present to
myself.”

“Are you not?” Alfred asks archly, and Bruce scoffs.

“You know what I mean. I can’t believe my best friend thinks I’m in love with myself.”

“It is a rather bizarre situation.”

“I still have no idea how he got so deep into this unhinged conspiracy in the first place. But
first thing’s first: I need to find some solid proof of Clark’s identity before I force him
through another security seminar. I should finally break into his apartment.”

“Are you sure that would be wise? If he really is Superman, wouldn’t he be smart enough not
to leave any evidence somewhere it can be easily found?”

“Sure, but I’m good at finding things that are supposed to stay hidden. And I doubt he has
anything incriminating in the Fortress, at least not the parts I have access to.”

“May I suggest you choose a different night to go sneaking? On the off chance Mr. Kent
catches you, he will likely find it strange if Batman has come snooping right after his own
stint in Gotham, especially after I called him in on your behalf.”

“Good point. But you shouldn’t have called him in the first place. I could’ve dealt with the
situation alone.”

“Ah, but then you would have missed out on this life-changing epiphany.”

Damn him, but he’s right. Bruce probably would’ve floundered for at least another week.

Alfred, smug in his knowledge of being correct, herds Bruce back upstairs to be forced to
drink more soup. The mindless act of eating gives him time to mentally review today’s
events, but doing so doesn’t really make them any less ludicrous.

One last little realization strikes him as he stirs his soup. He kissed Clark, which means he
kissed Superman.
He touches his fingertips to his lips, remembering the soft press of Clark’s mouth against his
own. That was the closest he’ll ever get to having Kal.

Bruce wishes that the idea didn’t still hurt so much.

As Alfred suggested, Bruce waits until two nights later to head over to Metropolis. Stalking
Clark’s schedule has given him a short window of time during which he can go search. He
would bug the place, but decides against it, since it’ll be a pain to justify to Kal if Bruce ever
tells him he knows his identity.

Dick asks to come along, but Bruce tasks him with protecting Gotham while he mucks
around Metropolis. Dick is more invested than ever, having gone through three separate
freakouts after Bruce told him about his discovery. Mostly, he’s doubled down on his belief
that Bruce and Clark should get back together; Bruce has tried to explain to him multiple
times that this outcome is not contingent on Bruce’s actions, but he hasn’t given up hope.

As expected, Clark isn’t in when Bruce goes to slip into his apartment through the window.
It’s horrifyingly easy to do so, and Bruce wants to scold him for having zero security
measures, but Batman understands the futility in trying to get Kal to think about his own
safety.

Since Dick couldn’t come along, he’s settled for chattering in Bruce’s ear instead, now going
on his fourth freakout.

“I feel like it must be fate, right? I mean, why else would you fall in love with him twice!
Man, I can’t wait to talk to him about his Robin characterization once you guys are together
again…”

Bruce has been trying to soundly ignore the fact that his son has been reading Clark’s
Bruceman fic, but of the various things that Dick does that unintentionally damage him, this
ranks lower than “cartwheeled off a skyscraper” so he’ll just keep it to himself.

Clicking his flashlight on, Bruce surveys the kitchen quickly, finding nothing of use in
Clark’s sparse cabinets and pantry. He’s somewhat distraught that Clark doesn’t have much
food in his place, but the feeling is dulled by the fact that Kal doesn’t actually need to eat, he
just enjoys it. Still. Bruce should buy him a weekly meal subscription kit or something.

“You know, I think it’d be pretty funny if you got back together as Superman and Bruce
Wayne. Then you’d have dated everyone in this love square! Oh, crap, is that a
flamethrower? Whoa!”

“Concentrate,” Bruce scolds.

The living room doesn’t have many hiding places either. Clark’s bookshelves are so full that
Bruce supposes some of the books could be hiding Kryptonian crystals but it seems pointless
given that he has the entire Fortress to keep things like that. Perhaps Alfred was right; this
might be a lost cause.

On the walls there are many photographs of Clark and his parents. They must have found him
as a baby and raised them as their own. The images paint a loving picture; it’s a much happier
story than Bruce’s assumption that Kal had lived alone in the Fortress after crash landing in
the Arctic. He smiles involuntarily at a photo of a young Clark hanging from a tree branch
and looking dubiously down at the muddy ground below, a cat curled around his neck. Ever
the boy scout.

Hearing the faint sound of footsteps behind him, Bruce tenses. They aren’t coming from the
direction of the apartment door.

Damn, the hallway window. Clark must have seen something in his home and decided to take
a different route in. Bruce steps away from the wall, turning to face the doorway.

“Going dark,” he whispers into the comm, getting Dick’s hissed, “Got it,” in response.

Through the darkness Bruce can see two glowing embers of light at about eye-level, before
they blink out of sight. A figure emerges from the dark, and then pauses when it sees Bruce.

“Batman?” Clark says, his eyes wide. Nice attempt at surprise. There’s no way he didn’t
already x-ray the room before coming in.

Those damn glasses. They dull the inhuman clarity of Kal’s sky-blue eyes. And the natural
slump to Clark’s shoulders, the mousy posture and messy curls that make a man of his stature
seem adorably rumpled and nonthreatening. Fuck.

“Clark Kent,” Bruce says in his Batman voice. Clark straightens his back involuntarily before
he notices what he’s doing and shrinks further into a cower. Incredible. He really has none of
Kal’s commanding stance or casual aura of power. Bruce still wants to kick himself in the
face for never seeing it before.

“That’s- uh, that’s me! Is there- can I do anything for you? Sir?” Clark fumbles his glasses up
his nose in an attempt to see Batman better.

His nervousness is a little endearing, even if it’s completely fake. Or mostly fake. The Clark
that Bruce knows isn’t forceful by any means, but he’s too sharp to be this shivering doormat.
This must be how Clark presents himself to the rest of the world. Poor little giant reporter,
too country to be any trouble, too anxious to do any harm. It’s actually rather ingenious.

Bruce does them the favor of flicking on the light switch, so Clark doesn’t have to keep
pretending he can’t see him in the dark and Bruce doesn’t have to squint at him under the
flashlight beam.

Now that they’re face to face, he needs some reason to have been snooping around. He can’t
just come out and ask Clark if he’s Superman, so he’ll do the next best thing.
“What’s your relationship with Superman?”

Clark stares blankly for a second. “Superman? Well, uh, I guess the regular relationship
between a reporter and his subject? To be honest, we don’t really talk that much.”

Ha. “Is that it?” He walks toward Clark, watching the way his eyes dart up and down,
scanning Bruce. He’s never been more sure that lining the cowl with lead was a good idea.
“You and Lane. He trusts you two, and I need to know that his trust isn’t misplaced.”

“He trusts Lois because her integrity and bravery are unmatched,” Clark says, his tone
firming up. “He knows that she fights for the truth, for the rights of the common people.
That’s why he trusts her to tell his story. As for me, uh. Lois vouches for me, and I guess
that’s good enough for Superman.”

The answer is so Clark that Bruce has to fight to keep his expression neutral.

“Hn. That’s because Superman looks too often at only the good in people.”

“I wouldn’t betray him, I promise. Like I said, I barely interact with the guy. Even Lois
doesn’t know that much about Superman. I can guarantee you that we would never
knowingly participate in anything that could ruin him.”

He treats the subject of Superman with a kind of casually professional distance that dissuades
people from connecting them. It makes it difficult to think Bruce will be able to scare any
truth out of him. This whole trip was pointless.

Bruce glares at Clark a moment longer just to make him squirm. “Fine. But I’ll be keeping an
eye on you, Kent.” It’s not untrue.

Clark nods quickly, like a bobblehead. “Understood. Um. Can I offer you a drink or
anything?” Bruce is going to blame his Midwestern upbringing for unnecessary politeness
toward home invaders dressed as bats.

“The only beverage in your refrigerator is half-and-half.”

“Oh. I have instant cocoa? And teabags?”

“Why? You don’t even like tea,” Bruce says without thinking. Shit. He has to recoup when
Clark’s eyes widen. “...so I’ve been told.”

Clark takes a hesitant step forward. “Did- did Bruce say that?” He has the audacity to look
hopeful, and Bruce scowls. “Does he…ever talk about me?”

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

“I’d like to reach out, but I wasn’t sure he wanted to see me again so soon. I know that the
press has been bothering him nonstop since we- since things ended between us. Not that there
was anything between us!” He puts his hands up, probably afraid that Batman might try to
beat him up for stealing his man.
“I’m aware.” As much as Bruce would love to continue terrorizing Clark over his Bruceman
obsession, he should go before he slips up any further. Tonight was a bust. But his natural
curiosity can’t stop him from asking the question that’s been weighing on his mind long
before tonight. “Why did you agree to date him?”

Why did Kal-El, who could have anyone in the world, playact with Bruce for so long? Why
did he try to be something to Bruce Wayne that he never offered to Batman, despite knowing
him for years longer? Why was Bruce stupid enough to allow himself to hope it might
develop into something real?

Why can’t Bruce measure up, in any of his identities, no matter what he does, to the person
who Kal holds in his heart?

The question causes Clark to pause, his head tilting in a distinctly Kal-like manner as he
considers the question. Bruce doesn’t even know what evidence he’s looking for anymore,
when he can suddenly see the hints of Kal hiding in Clark all this time.

“He was looking for a distraction, and I thought I could offer that. I- I only ever wanted to be
a good friend. He’s the one who called it a date, so I just…went along with it.”

“Even though you thought he was in a relationship?”

“Yes. But that’s also why I broke up with him. I didn’t want to complicate things further.” He
trails off when Bruce advances a step closer, taking a step backwards in response. His gaze
falls to the floor, and Bruce reads the hunch of his shoulders, the nervous way his thumbs
wear at the pockets of his slacks.

“Why do you look so glum?” he asks clinically, trying to analyze Clark’s behavior. “You’re
the one who broke things off.”

Clark flinches, taking another step back toward the wall. “I- I still care about him. I want him
to be happy.”

“And if I told you that he isn’t?”

“What do you mean? Is he alright?” Clark asks, worry seeping into his features. “I heard that
he was involved in a hold up the other day. Did he get hurt?”

Bruce barely stops from scoffing at Clark’s act. “He’s perfectly fine.”

“Then why is he unhappy? I thought that you…”

“You thought that I could give him what he wants?” Bruce’s incredulous laugh is genuine.
“Me? I just keep him around for his money. Wayne is just a means to an end.”

Clark inhales sharply, looking wounded. “That can’t be true.”

“Why not? You don’t know the first thing about our relationship, Kent.”
“No, but I know y- I know the kind of person you are, and I can’t imagine you ever just using
someone for their money.”

“Does it matter if I am? The arrangement that Wayne and I have is none of your business. It
isn’t like you ever had feelings for him.” Bruce needs to stop talking five minutes ago. He
doesn’t know why he’s punishing them both for a situation that was nobody’s fault, besides
his own eternal need to hurt himself for daring to give his emotions any hold over his life.

There’s nothing more to be gained here.

He turns around, his cape swirling around him in a protective barrier, and stalks back toward
the hallway window. He can hear Clark trailing after him, but he doesn’t turn around, not
even after he’s leapt from the window and he’s gliding through the night, trying not to be
blinded by all the horrible Metropolis lights.

“He was happy when he was with you,” Bruce tells the wind, knowing that Kal will hear.

Immediately after leaving Clark’s apartment, Bruce flees to the Hall of Justice.

That was a complete failure, and he has no desire to show his face in front of Alfred and Dick
and explain how wrong it all went.

The upside is that he’s more sure than ever that Clark is really Kal. At least his information
leak is solved. He’ll have to draw up another lesson on confidentiality again; the whole
League is probably due for a refresher. In fact, he’ll start doing that now.

He gets about half an hour of work done on his Do Not Share Classified League Information
powerpoint before someone else walks into the lab. Due to Bruce’s good luck, it’s the last
person he wants to see right now.

“Kal,” Bruce grits out, not expecting to see him again so soon. “What brings you here at this
hour?”

Kal looks perfectly put together, not a curl out of place, his red cape rippling behind him as
he lands on the floor beside Bruce. Almost all trace of Clark is gone, save for the slight
crease between his eyebrows, the stress from Bruce’s questioning apparently not having yet
disappeared.

It’s like flipping a switch, with all the differences in his posture, his speech, his appearance
— all without a mask to help him hide. Bruce has to give him props for how he’s kept it
hidden for so long. Clark really is good at keeping a secret.

“I saw you leaving Metropolis, and I was curious why,” Kal lies, his heels lifting just a
centimeter off the ground before he forces himself down again.
“Ah. I was just following up on a lead for that vulnerability that I was telling you about.”

“You were trying to scare information out of Clark Kent,” Kal accuses, and Bruce almost
smiles at his indignation.

“He told you, did he? I wanted to be sure he wasn’t suckering League secrets out of you,
Kal.” He gestures at his powerpoint presentation. “I know you trust your reporter friends, but
I can’t rule them out as threats based only on that.”

“If you can trust me, you should also be able to trust my judgment in people.”

“I have absolute faith that you’ll do what’s best for the world, including anything that might
be necessary to stop me if I cross a line; I hope you might have the same faith in me.”

“I do,” Kal says, pulling up a chair. “I just wish your methods didn’t always involve
frightening people in their homes.”

“Kent will survive. I’m sure he deals with worse every day at his job.”

Kal clears his throat, and Bruce observes him with amusement. He can practically see him
mentally replaying every annoying interaction he’s had at work in the last two weeks.

“On that note,” Kal says with nonchalance, as if he weren’t just talking to Bruce about
himself. “I have a question for you.”

Bruce grunts in acknowledgement as he inserts a chart into his slide.

“Are you in a relationship with Bruce Wayne?”

Bruce hadn’t expected Kal to come right out and ask, and he pauses in the middle of
changing font sizes to look at his partner.

“That depends on what you mean by a relationship,” he says, instead of just telling Kal “no”
like a person with a working brain.

Kal looks at him for a long moment before saying, “Well, what are you to each other?”

No matter what Bruce says, he’s going to break Kal’s little Bruceman heart, but he supposes
it was only a matter of time. If Kal stops writing fanfiction, he’ll also stop giving up
information on the League, no matter how inconsequential those details are.

“He supplies me with the resources I need and in return, he gets what he wants, like a safer
Gotham, among other things.”

Bruce intends to leave his statement vague, but Kal can’t help pressing for more information.

“Like what?”

His eyes are so wide and his mouth pressed into a worried line. Bruce hates to see him like
this, but if he’s going to shatter Kal’s worldview anyway, he might as well go all in.
“In exchange, he gets me. He makes frequent and repeated use of my body. You’re an adult, I
don’t think I need to spell it out any further for you.”

Kal looks like he’s been slapped, his face going blotchy and his mouth opening and closing
like a fish blowing bubbles. Bruce gives him a few minutes to gather his wits, and returns to
working on his slides. From the corner of his eye, he can see Kal trying to digest this terrible
news; probably trying to reconcile how Batman being Bruce Wayne’s sugar baby might still
end in true love. Bruce knows for a fact that there’s more than one novel-length fic on AO3
with this exact storyline.

After a few minutes of silence have passed, Bruce returns his attention to Kal, to see if he’s
still shell-shocked, but finds Kal looking intently at him. The scrutiny of his gaze makes
Bruce tense up, but he can’t break eye contact.

“Kal-”

“Are you in love with him?” Kal asks softly, those impossibly blue eyes staring straight into
Bruce’s lenses.

Bruce does feel a little bad for completely and utterly bursting his Bruceman bubble, but it’s
best to finally shake him free of its iron grip.

“No. I’ve never loved him and I never will.”

With the slightest flinch, Kal presses on. “Is- is there any possibility that he, for you-”

“No, Wayne isn’t in love with me. Like I told you, what we get from one another is purely
transactional. We have the same goals, and we use each other to that end.”

Kal makes a miserable noise, and collapses into his seat. He looks so sad that Bruce wonders
if he shouldn’t have obliterated his friend’s OTP so callously, but it’s time that Kal faced the
truth. He supposes he doesn’t really understand the pain of having your ship sunk straight
from the source. Is this going to send Kal into a depressive spiral? Should he have softened
the blow somehow?

Should Bruce reveal his identity? Let Kal see exactly why Bruceman can never be more than
a pipe dream?

It isn’t like he doesn’t trust Kal with the truth. And since he knows Kal’s civilian identity as
well, it would be a fair trade.

But telling him will be as much as a confession. If Kal — or Clark, in this case — knows that
Bruce and Batman are the same person, he’ll realize that Bruce went on all those dates with
him because he wanted to. He’ll know that Bruce wasn’t playing a part, that he wasn’t
pretending when he smiled at Clark like he was the most interesting person in the room. He’ll
know that all those ridiculous little flirtations weren’t just an affectation, that every date was
a memory that Bruce holds dear.

Kal will know that Bruce wanted more than just a kiss goodbye.
He might even put the pieces together and see that Bruce has been in love with him for years.

“Why do you ask?” Bruce chooses to ask, keeping his tone light. Better to just deflect and
give Kal a reason to change the topic. “Were you hoping to ask him out?”

He’s expecting Kal to laugh the question off, maybe deny it with a statement that Bruce
Wayne isn’t really his type. What he gets instead is a full face flush, Kal’s eyes darting away
from Bruce in a clear admission of guilt.

The stricken look on his face is enough to make Bruce’s heart skip a beat.

What the hell?

“Ye- no, that is- I’m just curious about your life! Can’t a guy ask about his best friend’s
romantic prospects?” Kal says desperately, but his behind is beginning to float off his seat.
Bruce narrows his eyes.

“Bruce Wayne and I are nothing more than a convenience to one another. Our arrangement
has no bearing on our relationships. We can put an end to it at any time. He is, effectively,
single, now that he’s no longer dating your pet reporter.”

Kal stares blankly at the wall. “Is he now.”

“Just thought you might want to know.”

Clark is still in love with someone else; there’s no way he moved on from them in the two
weeks since he dumped Bruce. But given Kal’s extremely strange reaction just now, maybe
his brief fling with Bruce meant more to him than Bruce realized. Perhaps Clark wasn’t lying
when he said they might have worked out in a different life.

Is it possible that Bruce still has a chance?

But Bruce has been burned so many times in the past. No matter how often he gives his heart
away, it’s always returned to him in pieces. He can’t handle it again, not at the hands of his
best friend. If he lets Clark in again only to lose him for real — if he lets Kal break his heart
once more — he doesn’t know what it will do to their friendship.

He doesn’t know if he can ever recover.

Another two minutes of silence pass, before Kal asks something Bruce should have been
more ready to hear.

“Are you single?” Kal asks, his voice laden with an emotion that Bruce doesn’t want to
interpret.

“Yes,” Bruce replies, unable to look at him, consumed by the unfounded fear that even
despite the lead, Kal can see through every one of his defenses to the truth below.

A sharp crack resounds through the room, and Bruce whips his head around to see that Kal
has accidentally crushed a portion of the computer lab desk into sawdust.
“Uh,” Bruce says as Kal shoves his chair backwards, causing an anguished shriek of metal
against tile.

“Sorry, that was- please take it out of my paycheck,” Kal mutters as he stands. He rubs his
palms nervously against his legs, even though he doesn’t sweat, and he’s angled away so his
eyes don’t meet Bruce’s.

“We don’t get paid,” Bruce says absently, his eyes locked on Kal’s flustered face,
memorizing the way his tongue slips out to wet his dry lips, the deepening furrow between
his dark brows, the glassiness to his gaze. Superman never looks so shaken. Neither does
Clark, not really.

Bruce can feel, like pressurized air closing in around him, that he’s on the precipice of
something he’s been hoping to find out for a long, long time.

Who is it that Clark loves?

Is there any possibility…?

“Why all the questions tonight?” Bruce asks, his voice held steady only through a lifetime of
practice. “Do you know someone who might be interested in me?”

Kal’s piercing eyes finally find Bruce’s again, and in them Bruce imagines he sees the same
cautious hope that grips him now.

Tell me. Tell me who I should have been saving my heart for.

Tell me that I can be yours, and I’ll confess that you’ve had me for longer than you could
ever know.

But Kal doesn’t answer. He just breathes out sharply, fixing his expression into something
resembling his usual pleasant visage, and floats a few feet away.

“If I find somebody, I’ll let you know,” he says, giving Bruce a smile that doesn’t reach his
eyes. “Sorry for cutting this short, B, but there’s a flood I need to go deal with.”

Bruce can feel the chasm opening between them again, but he’s worn too thin in too many
ways to stop it. Besides, he can tell that if he wants to get at the truth that he can feel just
beyond the reach of his fingertips, he can’t pursue it any further tonight.

So he nods, pretending for Kal’s sake that nothing just shifted between them, and says, “Of
course. See you at next week’s meeting.”

He turns back to his computer so Kal can leave with his dignity intact, and busies himself
with his security presentation to free his mind of the hurricane of thoughts that have been
building inside him since two days ago. The work helps him organize the most important
matters he should be processing.

Now that Kal knows that Batman and Bruce Wayne are not actually a couple, has something
changed? Does this new information have any impact on Clark’s feelings? Was Bruce
 deluding himself when he thought he saw a familiar emotion mirrored in Kal’s expression?

Unfortunately, if there’s any chance of Bruce’s love being requited, Kal isn’t going to reveal
it to Batman. And Clark certainly won’t be telling Bruce. He needs to attack this from a
different angle.

Bruce is so tired of giving voice to the boundless love that resides in him only to have it
dashed apart again and again. He can never be rid of his love, not when it drives each and
every one of his actions, but he can choose to hide it away, to keep it close to his chest so it
only spills out when he’s been cut too deep.

But Kal gives him hope, and Clark gives him courage.

He brings out the best in Bruce, and isn’t that something worth fighting for? Isn’t it worth
opening his heart again?

If Bruce can prove to himself that Clark feels the same way, then maybe he can take the risk,
one more time.

Chapter End Notes

shadowscribble: k did you hear about the metropolis whales?? O.O

 Chapter 11
Chapter Notes

Bruce: Hm I hope Clark loves me too u_u *commences psychological warfare*

Almost at the end!

Clark, in a fugue state since the moment Batman decimated his understanding of the
universe, returns home to Smallville for the weekend to drown his sorrows in his Ma’s home
cooking. His parents watch him with concern, but choose to wait until he’s ready to tell them
on his own terms what’s shaken him so. Unfortunately, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be
ready.

He helps with the farm chores in a complete haze, his mind cycling through the same three
facts again and again as he tries to reconcile them with what he thought to be the truth.

1. Batman and Bruce aren’t in love.

2. Batman considers himself single and possibly ready to mingle.

3. Bruce might have been developing feelings for Clark.

The first of these statements has shaken the foundations of his reality, but it’s easier to think
about than the other two, which cause such a violent lurch in Clark’s chest and stomach every
time he even allows either one to cross his consciousness again that he tried to wipe the
knowledge of them from his brain by smacking his forehead against the old tractor tire in the
shed until he accidentally popped it after the second impact. Suffice it to say that he has not
forgotten either one, and they continue to plague him like wicked little demons every time he
thinks about anything besides Bruceman.

Thus, his only recourse is to mull over the dreadful information B told him the other night
about his relationship with Bruce. The phrase Batman used was so horrible that Clark feels
dirty just thinking about it. It was completely devoid of affection or goodwill, broken down to
nothing more than a business transaction, an affair of convenience.

They were just using each other, as if Bruce was nothing more than a heartless rich asshole
and Batman his money-desperate lover for hire…

But couldn’t this be the start of something real? Might not Batman wake up one day and
realize that Bruce brings light and happiness to his life? Couldn’t Bruce finally realize that he
appreciates Batman beyond what he can do for Gotham?
Clark wants to think that not all hope is lost, but B’s voice had been frank and steady when
they spoke. Clark couldn’t detect any lies when he revealed they were not in love and never
would be. No matter how many different ways Clark tries to play out a scenario where it
could still happen, his mind always wanders back to circle the details of that night.

Batman was emotionless when speaking about Bruce. Cold, almost. His demeanor stands in
stark contrast to the subtle warmth that colors his tone when he talks to Superman. Clark
knows Batman, even if he can’t see into his frustratingly inscrutable heart, and it didn’t seem
like he was trying to hide his true feelings about Bruce. And then, to further confuse him,
Clark had imagined a quiet kind of anticipation in Batman’s words when he asked if Clark
knew anyone who was interested in him.

As if…as if he was waiting to see if Clark had an answer ready.

Clark doesn’t know what possessed him to ask. Amidst the rest of the chaos, the realization
that Batman might also consider himself unattached had occurred to Clark, and with damning
urgency he had needed to know, right then and there.

Because if Batman doesn’t love Bruce— if Batman doesn’t love anyone at all, then doesn’t
that mean that Clark might still have a minuscule chance?

Was he waiting for a certain answer? Hoping for Clark to name a particular person?

Hoping to see if Clark—

Clark feels his stomach barrel roll up into his liver and immediately stops that train of
thought. No thinking about Batman. Not until Clark stops feeling like he’s plummeting from
a skyscraper every time he does.

That leaves the final element in this twisted mess. The one person Clark never intended to
hurt, but had done so regardless.

Does Bruce know Batman feels nothing for him? Is he aware that Batman considers him only
a means to an end, a business partner at most, if given the most generous reading of B’s
words? Does he see Batman the same way?

If so, then that means that all his dates with Clark…

Were they real to Bruce?

Clark feels like he’s going to be sick. Lois’ words echo through his empty skull like an
ancient curse.

“Isn’t it possible that Bruce really, honestly wants to be with you?”

Of course not, because he’s in love with Batman. But perhaps that was never true at all. It
was only a conclusion Clark jumped to, all on his own. Every date that he thought was just a
fun outing between friends, every flirtatious little joke and ambiguous moment between them
— they always meant something to Bruce.
And then Clark dumped him.

He can’t forget the look on Bruce’s face during their last night together. The flash of sadness
that sparked through his eyes when Clark suggested they go their separate ways. The speed
with which it had smoothed back out into a diplomatic smile, the one that Bruce wore for the
public. By then, Clark knew that Bruce could get camera-ready in the span of a blink, but the
fact that the defense mechanism was used on him…

Just like that, the walls had come back up. Just like that, the weaponized charm was back in
place, and Clark was nothing more than a professional acquaintance again.

At the time, it had stung, but Clark had seen it as a necessary evil for both of them.

Now, faced with the clarity of truth, it pains him more to know that he might have genuinely
hurt Bruce.

“Can I have one kiss goodbye? He won’t mind, I promise,” Bruce had said, his voice quiet,
glacial eyes unblinking.

“He was happy when he was with you,” Batman had told Clark Kent.

Batman knew. Batman must have always known about Bruce’s feelings, and Clark had
trampled all over them in a misguided attempt to protect himself from heartbreak.

Clark fucked up. He really, really made a mess of things this time.

Any chance he might have had with Bruce he obliterated all on his own. Batman is still as
opaque as ever, his heart likely too guarded to let Clark in. And Clark is paralyzed with
indecision over how to handle either relationship now that he knows they aren’t together.

It causes him too much anguish to think about, so Clark buries himself under his childhood
covers and pulls up the newest fluffy Bruceman fic in the tag to soothe his tumultuous soul.

Even if Batman was telling the truth, Clark hasn’t let go of Bruceman yet. Even if the greatest
love story on Earth can never become reality, Clark can still take comfort from the
community and the creations that have held him captive over the last year.

He needs a distraction from the troubles in his own heart. He needs to lose himself in the
beautiful lie that true love is still real.

shadowscribble: k how’s it going?

shadowscribble: you’ve been pretty quiet on all your socials recently so i just wanted to
check on you ( ` v ` ) /
FriendlyFan: Oh, you’re always so nice, Shadow!

FriendlyFan: I’ve been uh just dealing with a bit of personal business.

FriendlyFan: But you probably don’t want to hear about all that.

shadowscribble: of course i do! we’re friends right?

FriendlyFan: Of course!

FriendlyFan: But I think it’s something I just need to stew over a little longer. Anyway,
what’s new with you?

shadowscribble: oh not much! just working on the bruceman blog interviews ^.^

FriendlyFan: Oh, right! How have those been going?

shadowscribble: great! we already got z’s and lulu’s posted

shadowscribble: you said you wanted to join in too right? do you wanna do it now?

FriendlyFan: Sure, I can do that!

shadowscribble: oh awesome! okay so some of these like your usernames i already know the
answers to so i’ll just skip ahead to the big ones…prepare yourself…

FriendlyFan: I’m ready!

shadowscribble: okay. question one: are you more of a batman fan or a bruce fan?

shadowscribble: i think i know the answer but i’m still curious o_o

FriendlyFan: Wow, this is some hard-hitting journalism…

FriendlyFan: Honestly, I used to be a clear-cut Batman fanboy

FriendlyFan: 100%, no doubt about it, Dark Knight enthusiast.

FriendlyFan: I liked Bruce well enough, but mostly because he was such a perfect partner
for Batman, you know?

shadowscribble: aha just like i thought

FriendlyFan: But in recent months, as a Bruceman writer, I’ve gotten more exposure to
Bruce as a person and I have to say, I’m starting to become his fan too.

FriendlyFan: He really grew on me after I got to know him better.

FriendlyFan: I mean, not that we actually know each other haha but from interviews and
stuff, you know?
shadowscribble: right of course

FriendlyFan: He just seems like a really sweet, well-meaning guy.

FriendlyFan: I get why you Gothamites are so protective over him!

shadowscribble: yeah bruce is definitely one of gotham’s faves!

FriendlyFan: For a while I just thought it was because he was rich and handsome.

FriendlyFan: I didn’t really get it yet.

FriendlyFan: I didn’t see how much he obviously cares, or notice his unusual sense of
humor, or realize how interesting he is beyond his pretty face

FriendlyFan: He’s really so much more than the media makes him out to be.

shadowscribble: k…

shadowscribble: do you have a celebrity crush on bruce wayne >_>

FriendlyFan: No!!

FriendlyFan: I just have come to understand his charms

FriendlyFan: and am reassured in my convictions that he’s a great partner for Batman!

shadowscribble: ha ha

shadowscribble: well that’s why we’re all here isn’t it

shadowscribble: because of our shared love for bruceman

FriendlyFan: Speaking of which, what are you working on these days? I haven’t reblogged
anything in a few days 😰

shadowscribble: oh! well you’ve been busy so

shadowscribble: i’ll give you a sneak preview of my newest wip ^.~

shadowscribble: [Image of a naked Bruce wrapped in Batman’s cape, the cowl held
suggestively in his lap. He’s looking down at someone underneath him; only their scarred
arm is visible, their hand gripping Bruce’s bare thigh.]

FriendlyFan: ;LNGR43kbsj.d

FriendlyFan: ,m

FriendlyFan: sorry

shadowscribble: ?? what happened

FriendlyFan: Nothing!! It looks great! I just don’t usually look at NSFW art hahah

shadowscribble: oh noooo k i’m sorry i forgot!! >_<

FriendlyFan: No worries! Just surprised, that’s all!

FriendlyFan: Sorry, I’ve gotta get back to work now, but I’ll finish up the interview with you
tomorrow if you’re free!

shadowscribble: sure sounds good!

shadowscribble: good luck with your work! <3

FriendlyFan: ❤

Clark is seated on the couch in the parlor room of Wayne Manor, waiting for his host to
return. He knows where he is due to the huge painting of Bruce on the wall as well as the
orange juice stains and the words ‘Wayne Manor’ written in large typeface right over the
fireplace. Well, one of the four fireplaces in the room, in any case.

The tea in his hand is a watery amber color, and he keeps thinking he should set the cup down
but he can’t bring himself to do so. He’s already feeling a little guilty about tracking dirt on
the beautiful antique carpets with his boots; subtly, he tries to hover his feet just above the
floor so he doesn’t actually touch it.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” says a sultry voice to Clark’s right. He turns and sees Bruce
standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but Batman’s cape draped artfully around him so
that his modesty is still protected.

“B-bruce,” Clark stutters out, his tongue going tied at the sight of him as he strides forward,
his bare legs shifting the fabric with each step, giving a teasing glimpse of his thighs.

“Superman,” Bruce says, perching on the loveseat right next to Clark. His bare knee brushes
against Clark’s, and Clark almost drops his saucer. With a shaky hand he puts it somewhere
and rests his arm along the back of the couch, bringing him precariously close to Bruce.
Sometime in the last five seconds he decided to live dangerously. Maybe it’s the heat of the
four fires in the room bringing out his wild side.

“Hi,” he says, unable to come up with anything more exciting with all the blood in his body
rushing to his head. Or elsewhere.

“Clark,” Bruce murmurs, leaning forward. The cape slips from his shoulder, revealing a
swath of porcelain skin. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
“You have?”

“Kal,” someone growls from the other side of the loveseat. “Late again, I see.”

Clark turns to his left to see Batman crouched on the arm of the couch like a giant cat. He’s in
the batsuit minus the cape, which somehow makes the girth of his thighs and the cinch of his
waist more obscene.

“I was caught in traffic?” he tries, and Batman snorts.

“In the sky?”

“Yeah, okay, not my best excuse,” Clark says, swallowing as Batman unfurls from his crouch
to step onto Clark’s lap. Jesus.

Clark doesn’t have time to think too hard about why he’s able to balance so well while
standing on Clark’s legs, because he’s already stepped down to the floor to sit at Bruce’s feet,
legs folded beneath him. Bruce reaches down to hold him by the jaw, tilting his head up.
Batman obediently allows himself to be moved, and Clark feels insane about it.

“Isn’t he perfect?” Bruce asks, running a thumb over the curve of Batman’s bottom lip. “He’s
been waiting so long for you to put this pretty mouth to use.”

Batman sucks the tip of Bruce’s thumb into his mouth, and it doesn’t take a lot of imagination
for Clark to put himself in Bruce’s place. The galloping beat of his heart spreads throughout
his whole body, and he thrums with restless desire.

“Lie down for me,” Bruce commands, and Batman does so, lowering himself flat on the
plush carpet underfoot. It’s wildly attractive to see Bruce being so assertive and Batman
allowing himself to give up control. Clark doesn’t know who he’s more jealous of.

“He’s so very good at following directions.”

“For you, maybe,” Clark says, staring stupidly down at Batman lying there, waiting to be told
what to do. All his neurons are only returning white noise. Bruce laughs.

“Well, if you were paying the bills, darling, he might listen to you too.”

“Stop wasting time,” Batman snaps at them, and Bruce rolls his eyes.

“You’re familiar with that tone, I’m sure.”

Clark chuckles, but his laugh dies quickly as Bruce stands, the cape finally slipping free from
his body. It flutters to pool on the floor at Batman’s feet as Bruce lowers himself on top of his
partner.

He straddles Batman, his bare skin resting on armor and Kevlar, and Clark wishes he could
be in Batman’s place, the weight of Bruce’s body pinning him to the carpet. He’d make for a
softer ride, at least until they started moving.
Bruce bends down to catch Batman in a kiss, their lips slotting together naturally as Batman
drags him in close. Every part of the batsuit except the cowl has vanished, leaving them nude
and pressed intimately together, their bodies awakening under the other’s touch. Batman’s
scars are in full display as he grinds up against Bruce; Clark wants to kneel down beside him
and worship each jagged mark.

He sits frozen, aching with lust as Bruce rocks forward and pins Batman’s wrists above his
head, before glancing back at Clark with half-lidded eyes. He looks like sin incarnate, his
neat hair tousled and his skin flushed, the pupils of his icy eyes blown wide.

“Clark, come help me,” Bruce purrs. “He needs someone who can hold him down properly.”

“Are you sure?” Clark croaks out, unable to look away from Batman’s broad chest, his toned
arms and elegant calves.

“Come on, show me that fabled teamwork of yours.”

“Kal, please,” Batman begs, his voice straining as he arches against Bruce, and Clark falls to
the floor beside them, his hand already reaching out toward Batman’s arms, his face.
Anywhere Clark can touch him, finally feel him—

Clark jolts awake right before he makes contact, his pulse gone haywire and one heel of his
foot having gouged a wound straight into his mattress, leaving the springs borked.

He’s desperately, painfully aroused, and so mortified about it that he immediately flies into
the shower and douses himself with a blast of cold water straight to the face. He stands there
until he finds himself chilled back down to reality, the temperature not unwelcome, but the
waterlogged clothes and sopping hair giving him a dose of common sense.

Clark speed dries himself by shaking all the water off at superspeed, though it leaves his
pajamas a little worse for wear. Then, he goes back to lie on the wooden floor in penance, and
stares up at the ceiling as he tries to come to terms with what his subconscious was telling
him.

There’s a more than zero percent chance he would immediately agree to a no strings attached
threesome with Batman and Bruce if one of them asked him. There’s a 100% chance it would
emotionally devastate him, though.

“This is the worst of all possible outcomes,” Clark groans, pressing his palms into his face.
Besides the embarrassment of having a sex dream about his best friend and his fake (real?)
ex-boyfriend, he also has to face the more pressing, underlying issue.

Is he in love with two people at once?

Talking to Shadow the other day had awakened something in his hindbrain. Something he
was hoping not to be true, so he would never have to confront it.

He thought he was beginning to fall for Bruce, which is why he brought an abrupt halt to
their relationship. But Clark is worried now that this whole time he’s been in deeper waters
than he suspected.

It’s frightfully easy to imagine what life with Bruce could be like, if he ignores all the
pageantry and flash of constantly being in the public eye. Talking for hours without getting
bored. Taking walks through the park, going on casual outings, sharing a meal. Uncovering
each other’s little secrets with humor and grace and an open willingness to learn. It all feels
so simple, despite the complications of the rest of their lives. Being with Bruce is
comfortable, comforting. If they actually got serious about each other, he’s sure that things
would become more complex, but he can’t see himself shying away from the effort it would
take to sustain it. He wonders if Bruce felt the same way.

Clark thinks he could probably build a life with Bruce, as outlandish as the notion might
seem to everyone else.

Could he ever have anything like that with Batman?

Batman, who knows him in ways that few other people do. Batman, who’s risked his life to
save Clark’s time and time again, who cares so deeply about Clark in his own stoic, stilted
manner. They’ve been through so much together. Clark might not know who he is under the
cowl, but he’s prepared to accept him, whoever he is. If Batman were willing, Clark would do
whatever it takes to make some kind of relationship between them work.

They already spend time together in companionable silence, each of them productive and
appreciative of the other’s presence and occasional input. Their arguments are heated and
passionate but always born from mutual respect and concern. Batman understands what it
means for Clark to be Superman, and would never fault him for making the hard choices
they’re both faced with every day. Clark has no idea what their daily life together might be
like, but he knows that for the big things, the moments that really count, they’ll be able to
support each other.

He can’t compare Batman and Bruce in a way that matters. He appreciates each of them for
who they are, and it actually kind of hurts him that Bruce and Batman don’t see each other
the way he sees them.

Of course, that’s also the only reason that he might have a shot with either of them, if he
could get his life together long enough to figure out what he wants.

Maybe he needs to turn to a higher power for assistance.

r/relationship_advice • 14 minutes ago

Posted by ThrowRAbestfriendbf
I (31M) don’t know if I should pursue a relationship with my best friend (3?M) or
“ex” (33M)

Hi folks, this situation is somewhat complicated so bear with me.

I’ve been in love with my best friend B for a few years now, but I’ve never been able to
muster up the courage to confess. In part, it’s because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to risk
ruining the relationship we currently have. He’s the person I trust most in this world, and
we understand each other in ways that no one else can. We’ve been through some
serious stuff together and come out stronger for it on the other side, but still, the thought
of introducing a romantic aspect to our bond has always seemed almost unattainable in a
way that put me off taking the plunge.

Another factor is that we each have some complications in our private lives that we’ve
never really discussed with each other. Without getting into too much, we both have
some pretty big secrets that we both have to keep for security reasons, and telling him
my feelings might have necessitated revealing them as well. While I can see myself
trusting B with this information eventually, I don’t know that I was mentally prepared
yet to go through with it, so I kept putting my confession off.

The third reason I haven’t told him, that only came to light recently, is that he’s secretly
been in a long-term relationship for the entirety of our friendship. B’s partner, who I’ll
call W, is someone who ends up in the public eye on occasion. Due to this, they’ve been
keeping quiet about their relationship for years, and I only found out about it by doing
some research and connecting some dots.

Through a turn of events, I ended up befriending W, despite feeling a little bitter over the
fact that he’s dating the man I’m in love with. He’s actually a really great guy, and I’ve
had a lot of fun hanging out with him.

Now, because B wants to keep their relationship a secret, W’s been seen publicly dating
other people before. B’s never talked to me about this, but from W’s behavior, I could
tell this was starting to wear on him. In an attempt to cheer W up one day, I suggested
we go do something together, and I guess he took it as a hint that I was willing to be one
of these fake “dates” of his. I didn’t really mind, so I decided to just go along with it. I
know it sounds weird, considering my unrequited feelings for B, but I’d already
accepted that I really had no chance, so it didn’t ping on my radar as strange.

Some months and many dates later, I realized that I was stuck in the worst case scenario:
I was developing feelings for W too (all while still hung up on B, go figure). So I did the
smart thing and broke things off before it got worse. W and I went our separate ways, he
continued to date B, who I still hadn’t gotten over.

Anyway, the crux of my problem is this: a couple of days ago, I was talking to B again,
and found out that B and W are NOT in the romance of the century like I thought. If
anything, they’re friends with benefits at best, and B more or less told me that not only
did W maybe return my fledgling feelings, but that they both consider themselves single
and available.
 And then my best friend looked me in the eyes and asked if I knew anyone interested in
him and I ran away like a coward. I could’ve finally taken my chance and told him, but I
couldn’t go through with it.

The thing is, no matter how close we are, I’ve never been able to tell if B has (or is
capable of having) any kind of romantic inclination toward me. Whereas with W, I
sometimes wondered if our “fake” dates could have been real if things were a little
different. It felt like we could’ve really been a great match for each other. Based on what
B told me, maybe I was right.

So now I’m caught at a crossroads with no idea how to proceed. I have feelings for two
separate people, who were not in the relationship I thought they were, and I don’t know
what to do. Should I try to win W over again after throwing away what we had over a
misunderstanding? Or should I take a chance on the feelings I’ve had for my best friend
for years?

Frogglenice • 3 minutes ago

I guess the question is this: who can you see yourself spending the rest of your life with?

keystone_circuit • 11 minutes ago

So let me get this straight: you accidentally ended up dating your crush’s boyfriend who
turned out to only be his fuckbuddy so now you’re trying to figure out which of them to
shack up with?

This sounds like it could lead to serious drama in the future; you might want to
reconsider dating either of them.

hhhhhhhhhoof • 6 minutes ago

threesome, dude

Clark reads the first few comments and puts his head in his hands. This time, there’s nothing
the internet can do to solve his problem.

He deletes the post. This is something he needs to figure out for himself.

After another week of going through his daily life like a shambling corpse, Clark finally feels
emotionally stable enough to think over both his relationships with the two men turning his
world upside down. It helps that Lois finds out he’s moping about his breakup and yells at
him for ten minutes about being a silly self-sacrificing idiot who doesn’t know how to accept
good things happening to him.

“Whatever you think they had between them doesn’t matter,” Lois grumbles as they walk out
of the office together. “What’s important is that you like Bruce, and he likes you back — I
feel like I’m counseling a middle school romance here, but c’mon, isn’t that enough of a
reason to try? Don’t you deserve a chance at love?”

“Sure, but if Batman-”

“Fuck Batman! If he had any bat-brains in his bat-head, he’d have locked down Bruce ages
ago! Well, too bad for him, because now he’s got Metropolis’ second-best reporter to contend
with!” Clark lets out a startled laugh, and she punches him in the arm in camaraderie. “Sorry,
buddy, but Brucie Wayne’s new man is 100% USDA certified pure Kansas beef; go haunt a
gargoyle.” She ends her rant with a derisive flip of her hair, and Clark is bursting with love
for her at that moment.

“Willing to go on record with that statement, Ms. Lane?” he asks with a smile, and she scoffs.

“All that and more. Just watch me; I’ll take a train to Gotham this minute. But you, buster,
have business in town.”

Lois gives him a meaningful look, and he knows she must be thinking about how Bruce is
back in Metropolis again for the next few days to personally scout out the location for the
newest Metropolis branch of the Wayne Medical clinics.

“I don’t know if he even wants to see me after I broke things off.”

“He said he wanted to be friends, right? How else are you going to find out if he was telling
the truth? How else,” and she pokes him in the chest with a manicured finger, “are you going
to find out how much you need to grovel to get back in his good graces before he’ll date you
again?”

“You’re a little optimistic,” Clark says, before conceding, “But maybe you have a point. I can
at least try and make it clear that on my end, I’ll always consider him a friend.”

“Or more.”

“Lois.”

She puts her hands up in surrender. “Alright, you play it your way. I’ll be rooting for you.”

After parting ways with Lois, Clark mulls over her suggestion. It’s getting towards evening
now, and Bruce is probably due to retire for the day soon. Clark knows he sometimes forgets
to eat when he’s been busy with work all day.

The thought of Bruce returning to his hotel room hungry strikes a pang in Clark’s chest and
he’s on the move before he knows it.
The restaurant hasn’t been hit by the dinner rush yet by the time he arrives, and he’s about to
make his order when he remembers that he has no idea where Bruce actually is, or if he’s
ready for a meal. He could take to the skies and try to listen for Bruce’s voice, but that would
be the coward’s way out. Also, it would probably be kind of weird for him to magically
appear wherever Bruce is without warning. Stalker behavior. (Batman behavior.)

He forces himself to make the call before he can talk himself out of it. The thought of Lois
scolding him for being pathetic is a strong motivator.

Bruce picks up on the second ring. Clark can feel his own pulse pick up in anticipation as he
waits out the faint electronic hum of silence for Bruce to decide his fate.

“Clark?” Bruce answers hesitantly, surprise softening his voice.

“Hi, Bruce,” Clark says stupidly, not having thought through this plan of attack beyond its
basics. The fact that Bruce picked up is a good sign, right? If Clark were to hang up in a
panic now, it would only make everything worse, so there’s nothing to do but continue. “I,
um. I heard you were in town, and I wanted to bring you something. Are you still working?”

“No, I just returned to my hotel, actually. Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine,” he half-lies. “I was just thinking about you-” shit why would he say that,
“and wanted to see how you were doing. I’m sorry this is so sudden. I’m also sorry I haven’t
reached out earlier. I thought that you wouldn’t want to hear from me during the frenzy, but I
think I was also afraid about how this conversation would go.”

“Well, we’re both still standing, so I’d say we’re doing okay so far. Anyway, I understand.
I’m sure you’ve been busy too, dodging questions when you should be the one asking them.”
There’s that hint of dry humor in his voice that Clark had already begun to miss, and he feels
himself smiling stupidly at a picture of Vietnamese limeade.

“Sure, but I’m good at disappearing on people. You’d be surprised how skilled I am at
blending into a crowd. Or maybe not, given that time you almost lost me at the farmer’s
market.”

“It’s not my fault! With that sweater on, it was impossible to tell the difference between you
and the people at the mushroom stand.”

“I mean, for one, I wasn’t holding any mushrooms.”

“Negligible difference,” Bruce scoffs. “I’ll be here for the rest of the evening, if you want to
come visit. I’ll let the front desk know to expect you.”

“That would be great. I’ll see you soon.”

It feels like he should say something more, but he chooses to quit while he’s ahead. At least
Bruce is still open to seeing him.

By the time he gets his food and arrives at the front desk of the Mandarin Oriental, Bruce’s
preferred choice of lodging while in Metropolis, he’s starting to feel the anxiety build up in
his gut again. Their phone conversation flowed as easily as any of their talks ever did, but the
anticipation of seeing Bruce face-to-face again reawakens all his worries. Even after the hotel
employee escorting him drops him off at the royal suite, Clark continues second-guessing
himself at superspeed until the door swings open and he sees his ex for the first time in over a
month.

Bruce looks good, but then again, he always does. Seeing him doesn’t make birds sing or the
sun come rising back up in reverse, but it does make Clark’s heart beat a little faster, his chest
aching for a reason he can’t name.

Their eyes meet, and it feels a little like that time in Bruce’s office that marked the beginning
of everything. That flash of emotion that vanishes so quickly that only Clark could ever catch
it passes through Bruce’s face, so before he can decide to lie or brush him off, Clark says his
piece.

“I owed you dinner, and figured it’d be easier to win on my turf than yours,” he says,
thrusting the takeout bag of pho and summer rolls at Bruce.

“I hadn’t realized you were still keeping score,” Bruce says, but he accepts the bag, the
corners of his eyes crinkling slightly in amusement. Clark breathes an internal sigh of relief.

“I take my debts very seriously.”

“I’d hardly call a meal or two a debt.”

“You sent me a microwave, Bruce, the least I could do is get you some decent food while
you’re in my neck of the woods.”

“I appreciate it,” Bruce says as he opens the door wider to allow Clark into the suite. He
places the bag on a table and removes each container carefully, his eyes widening as the
delicious fragrance of hot broth fills the room. “This smells wonderful.”

“You’ll love it, I’m sure.”

“Do you…want to stay? I know you only brought one serving, but we could share. Or you
could. Just watch me eat?” Bruce says, looking kind of helpless about the options he’s
offering Clark.

“Yes,” Clark almost says. “Yes, I’ll stay and watch you eat your noodles while you tell me all
about the migration patterns of terns or bone marrow transplants or whatever other random
knowledge you have bouncing around your head.”

But seven thousand miles away the ground begins shaking.

Gosh fucking dang it.

Clark’s eyes dart toward the huge windows on the far end of the room, as if he can see across
the horizon to the other side of the Earth. He’s needed elsewhere.
“I’m sorry, I’d love to, but I’ve got something due for Perry by eight tonight, and I’m already
on thin ice.” It’s a weak excuse, but Bruce nods in understanding. “Maybe next time,” Clark
tacks on before he can resist.

Bruce’s mouth curves into the slightest smile. Clark is suddenly reminded that the last time
they saw each other, he was given one, final indulgence to feel that mouth against his own. It
feels like an undeserved blessing that they can stand here and have this conversation almost
as if nothing’s changed.

“Then next time, it’ll be on me.”

“Absolutely not. I’ll never come out ahead if you keep it up.”

“I never said I would make it easy for you.”

Clark affects a sigh. “I suppose you’re lucky I enjoy a challenge. I’d better head out, but let
me know what you think. I’ve, um, still got the same number. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Bruce parrots, his smile growing. “It- it was good to see you again,” he says,
reaching out to brush his fingertips against the back of Clark’s hand. Clark wants to turn his
wrist and close his fingers around Bruce’s, to bind them back together for even just the
briefest moment in time, but it wouldn’t be right.

Not when he still doesn’t know what his own heart is truly yearning for.

“The same to you. I- I meant it when I said I wanted to remain friends. Just so you know.”

“…as did I,” Bruce admits, his gaze lingering on Clark. “Goodnight, Clove.”

“ ‘night, Mr. Wayne.”

It doesn’t feel like a goodbye, nor does it feel like a new beginning, but Clark leaves the suite
feeling like the bridge between them was never as burned as he assumed it might be. With
enough time, maybe he can repair it into something functional once more.

It isn’t that Superman has been avoiding Batman, exactly, but they haven’t actually seen
much of each other since that night he broke into Clark’s apartment. Any meetings between
them have been courteous, but short and to the point, which he supposes is an improvement
from when they were actively keeping away from each other about a month or two prior.
Their behavior continues to leave the rest of the League slightly on edge, but this time no one
asks about it, perhaps because Batman has gone back to patting Clark on the back after a
mission well done. If B is going to act like Clark wasn’t being super weird that night, then
Clark will match his energy.

Denial is just actualization. If he believes it hard enough, it will become true.

They finally end up in close quarters again when Batman helps Clark deal with another
Metallo incident that leaves him a little drained afterwards. After Corben is detained and
taken away, Clark goes to soak up some sunlight to bring his vitality back, but Batman
refuses to let him out of his sight until he’s deemed him healthy again. It’s touching, if not a
bit silly.

“I don’t have kryptonite poisoning,” Clark says again, but Batman just shakes his head.

“Give it at least five more minutes.”

“Fine. So, how’s Robin?”

“Trying to convince me to let him upgrade the Batmobile again.”

“Yeah? What is it now?”

“A disco ball that descends from the ceiling.”

“And you said no?” Clark gasps, grinning when Batman scowls at him.

“Of course I said no. Mirror balls are all fun and games until someone gets brained in the
middle of a high speed chase.”

“You wear an armored cowl! What are you, the fun police?”

Batman snorts. “Yes. It’s my day job.”

“Wait, really?” Clark squints at him. “No, you’d never work for the GCPD. I bet you’re…a
really jacked academic or something.”

“Better than your assumption a few years ago that I was a crab fisherman.”

“Look, it’s not my fault that your near-encyclopedic knowledge of marine life led me down
the wrong path…”

They squabble for another five minutes about their thoughts on maritime law before Batman
begins his routine check on Clark post-kryptonite exposure. Clark passes every measure,
because he’s feeling okay again, but B refuses to skip even a single step.

“Fine, you pass.”

“Of course I do.” If he ignores the butterflies fluttering around his guts, it’s like they’re back
to the way they used to be. The way they should be.

“Still, keep an eye on your own vitals for the next few hours just in case.”

“I know the protocol, B, I helped you write it,” Clark teases. “Are you headed back to
Gotham now?”

“Shortly. There’s some undercover business I have in Metropolis to finish first.”

Ah. Clark wonders if it has anything to do with Bruce. Seems like he has a lot of Gothamites
in his city these days. And on that note, he wonders how their relationship is doing. Still just
a pragmatic exchange of needs? Or something more?

“Wayne and I are still in our arrangement. We have not developed feelings for one another.”

“How-” Clark startles, wondering how on earth Batman just read his mind.

“You looked like you wanted to ask,” Batman says with a shrug. “You must have noticed his
presence in Metropolis recently too.”

Clark coughs, ducking his head to stop giving anything else away with his stupid face. “I was
just interested in how your strange entanglement with Clark’s ex was turning out.”

“It’s the same as it ever was.” Batman pauses for a moment to check that all his utility belt
compartments are closed properly. “Kal. If your friend wanted to give it another try, Wayne
would likely accept.”

God, if only. Part of Clark wishes so badly he could, but he still isn’t sure whether he
deserves the second chance. And another part of him — so deeply buried in his
consciousness that he doesn’t think he’ll ever be rid of it — still can’t let go of Batman,
despite every prior attempt to. The lingering hope that Batman being emotionally unattached
gives Clark a tiny chance with him is too alluring to relinquish.

“I’ll let Clark know. But, to be honest, I’m not sure he’s currently cut out for a relationship.
Lois tells me he’s kind of a disaster.”

Batman’s hands tighten around a batarang before he slides it back into its pocket. “Hn. How
about you? Have you ever considered finding a partner?”

“I already have a partner in crime-fighting,” Clark says with a strained smile.

“You know that isn’t what I meant,” Batman says, shaking his head in disapproval. “Someone
to share your life with. Someone to love. That reporter. Lois Lane. She would be a good
choice.”

Clark wants so desperately to say that Batman could be that for him. Can’t he be the one that
Clark loves? Can’t they share more than fleeting moments of camaraderie together?

“Lois is only a friend.”

“Then your other reporter. Kent.”

“What? No, Clark is definitely not my type.”

“Then who is? Let me help you find someone.”

You are, is Clark’s first thought, but immediately afterwards, he imagines ice blue eyes and a
teasing smile. Dammit.
“I dunno, I guess I never thought about it much.”

“A princess? A metahuman who can keep up with you? Or is there already somebody you-”

“Maybe Superman isn’t meant for all that,” Clark interrupts, watching as Batman’s
expression warps into a frown. “I have too many responsibilities right now to waste time on
personal matters. At this point in my life, I’d bring more trouble to my partner than I’m
worth-”

“Nonsense, Kal,” Batman barks at him, and Clark’s teeth click closed. “You, of all people,
deserve to be loved. If…if you aren’t yet ready for a relationship, that’s acceptable. But never
dare insinuate that you aren’t worth the pain and effort of love.”

He says it with a heated conviction that Clark usually doesn’t hear outside of battle, and it
warms him to know that even if Batman can’t love him the way he wants, he still wishes
Clark the best. Clark has no doubt that if he thought it would make Clark happy, Batman
would systematically compile a list of people that match his preferences and vet the most
suitable candidates for him to meet.

“Thanks, B,” he says warmly. “But please don’t pull a Dating Game on me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. It’s not that I’m not ready so much as- I’ve just got a lot going on right now. When that
changes, I’ll let you know. Meanwhile, I’ll keep looking for someone who suits you. Gotta
keep up my side of the partnership!”

“Hrmh.” Batman shakes his head. “Good luck with that. Not many people out there looking
to date a creature of the night.”

“You’re not a vampire,” Clark calls after him, but he’s already gliding away to another
building. Darn.

Batman seems to have moved on quickly from finding himself a date to finding one for
Clark. Maybe Clark had been reading too much into their talk in the Hall that night. Maybe
he isn’t interested in Kal at all.

It would have been so easy to drop the idea into Batman’s head just now.

“I’d date you,” is what he should have said.

“I do have a type, actually. Dark hair, good scowl,” he should have said.

“If you’re not going to fall in love with someone as amazing as Bruce Wayne, then do
something crazy and take a chance on me.”

But Clark can be brave in all things except facing his feelings for Batman, it seems. He just
has too much to lose if it all goes wrong.
It’s better not to get his hopes up just to let them crumble away under the truth. It’s better to
continue on with his old plan of trying to move on, maybe with someone else.

Someone who might be willing to give dating Clark Kent another try.

Batfan @shadowscribble

i have bad news u_u

i think the sb agenda is starting to sway me…

Mo(mo) @glubglubgrub
Replying to @shadowscribble

SHADOW NO

Batfan @shadowscribble
Replying to @glubglubgrub

i know i’m sorry!!!!!

pride & sensibility @gray_wedding

Replying to @shadowscribble

Oh?? Does this mean that we’re getting Shadow SB art?

Equinox @fyreflied
Replying to @shadowscribble

owo tell me more

Tabs remix @glorifiedpants

Replying to @shadowscribble

Babe I’m revoking your bman card

Batfan @shadowscribble
Replying to @glorifiedpants

please look away T_T

Jordan 🔞 @danish_roulette
 The worst thing Gotham stan twitter ever did was speak the Bruce/Clark breakup into
existence.

Y’all couldn’t let Bruce Wayne be happy for like five minutes, could you??

Couldn’t stand to see an everyman like Clark winning??

Like in a cool way though @wknre3

Replying to @danish_roulette

honestly!! like, all shipwars and tinhat bullshit aside they seemed really sweet together

Batfan @shadowscribble
Replying to @danish_roulette

same even as a bruceman shipper i did think bruce and clark were kinda cute…

Batfan @shadowscribble

going to post something……beloved bman mutuals DO NOT LOOK!!!

Batfan @shadowscribble

#Superbat

[Image of Superman and Batman standing on a rooftop together at daybreak, beams of

sunlight fracturing around them. Superman is smiling in the direction of the sun, while
Batman looks at his companion, a small smile on his face as well.]

FriendlyFan: Shadow…the betrayal…

shadowscribble: i know i’m sorry k!! T_T

FriendlyFan: Haha, I’m just joking with you.

FriendlyFan: But can I ask - why the sudden interest in Superbat?

shadowscribble: hm i guess it was because i was getting caught up on superman news and it
kinda struck me that besides bruce he’s probably the person who knows batman best

FriendlyFan: Oh right, you’re a Superman fan!

shadowscribble: yeah!! and since i like superman i was hoping that he could find happiness
with someone who cares about and understands him…

shadowscribble: and maybe batman could be that guy????

shadowscribble: sb is no bruceman of course!!! but there’s something about the trust that
gets to me

FriendlyFan: I can’t deny that they definitely seem to trust and respect each other!

shadowscribble: i think bruce is generous enough to let supes borrow batman once in a
while hehe ^.^

🤣
FriendlyFan: I can hear the gears clicking in your head but I’ll avert my eyes since I bet
you’re having X-rated thoughts

shadowscribble: right sorry ^///^

shadowscribble: but what about you k?

shadowscribble: you’re a batman fan so have you ever considered him with superman? since
they’re best friends and all

FriendlyFan: I’ve entertained the thought briefly before.

FriendlyFan: Actually, I do agree with you that Batman probably would make Superman
happy.

FriendlyFan: But it’s the other way ‘round that I’m concerned about.

FriendlyFan: Can Superman really be the partner that Batman needs? Is he up to the task?
Can he break through that protective shell and truly cherish the person beneath the mask? Is
he worthy of Batman’s deep and abiding love?

shadowscribble: k you better not be trash talking my fave -_-

shadowscribble: superman is the world’s greatest hope and don’t you forget it -____-

FriendlyFan: Wouldn’t dream of it! 😅

FriendlyFan: But yeah, I can see why their dynamic has its appeals, and I do find it pretty
interesting. I guess it’s just that given the choice between Bruce and Superman as Batman’s
partner, I have a clear preference.

shadowscribble: so if bruceman wasn’t an option you’d probably be more open to it

FriendlyFan: Hm, yeah it’s possible! Not sure if I’d ever write anything for it though.

shadowscribble: no inspiration huh

shadowscribble: that’s okay there’s lots of ships you might think about but never create for

FriendlyFan: Well

FriendlyFan: Okay, there’s one fic I’ve thought about writing…

shadowscribble: O___O

FriendlyFan: Haha don’t get too excited, it’s nothing that interesting

shadowscribble: you should write it anyway! i would read it

FriendlyFan: I mean, it’s not exactly like a fun and fluffy fic.

FriendlyFan: It’s more of…hm. A character study, maybe?

FriendlyFan: An exploration of love?

shadowscribble: that still sounds cool!

FriendlyFan: Also, it still features Bruceman, haha.

FriendlyFan: You might have gotten swayed, but my heart is more constant, Shadow 😝

shadowscribble: don’t worry i’m still a bman at heart >_<

shadowscribble: but sometimes the forbidden fruit is hard to resist…

FriendlyFan: True!

FriendlyFan: I know it’s silly, but I still feel a bit like I’m betraying my roots if I write it.

FriendlyFan: Cheating on Bruceman…

shadowscribble: haha

FriendlyFan: But doing this would take me out of my comfort zone, and that’s always a
good way to grow as a writer.

FriendlyFan: At the very least, it would be a learning experience even if it feels weird!

shadowscribble: i could commission you ^.^

shadowscribble: then you wouldn’t have to feel guilty hehe

FriendlyFan: Aw, no, you don’t have to do that!

shadowscribble: but you deserve to be paid for your hard work!

shadowscribble: how about $10000?

FriendlyFan: Haha! You got me good, buddy 😂😂

shadowscribble: ?

FriendlyFan: Anyway, I’ll try to get to it when I finish up this current soulmate AU. It can’t
hurt to try something new just once.

FriendlyFan: But you— Don’t stray too far over to the dark side, okay?

FriendlyFan: 😉

shadowscribble: ahaha no promises >_>

“Don’t get cold feet now; you know I’ll just find you and fly you back,” Superman
joked, trying not to betray any of the turmoil in his tone of voice.

“I won’t. I was just thinking about my vows.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t forget them. You’ve been practicing for the last five days.”

“Hn. There could still be some unforeseen complications that crop up-”

“That’s what I’m here for. You just worry about getting that ring on his finger.”

Batman’s grip on the railing slowly relaxed, and he turned away from the city skyline.
“Thank you, Superman. There’s a reason you’re the only one I would trust to be my best
man.”

“Same to you, buddy. C’mon, let’s get you back inside,” Superman replied, even though
it was both simultaneously true and the biggest lie he would ever tell Batman.

In another life, Superman might have had the courage to confess his feelings.

In another life, he wouldn’t be standing side by side with Batman as his best man, but
rather—

But that universe was one he would never understand. Here, Superman had already been
in love with his best friend for years, and never done anything about it.

Because Batman had known Bruce even longer.

He’d already loved Bruce for years before even meeting Superman. Even if he had
confessed, there was only one way Batman would have responded. He would let
Superman down gently, holding back his gruff, frank demeanor to promise that their
partnership wouldn’t change. He would assure Superman that while he could not return
these feelings, their friendship would always be of the utmost value to him. It was a
truth that Superman had accepted long ago.

Superman was never meant to be anything more than a footnote in Batman’s story.
Perhaps a chapter at best, detailing their storied friendship. Their unbeatable teamwork.

Bruce, on the other hand, knew him in the cape and out. He understood Batman with
practiced ease that took years of familiarity to hone. He was the hope that kept Batman
sane while Gotham burned and healed in equal parts around them.

Bruce was Batman’s reminder that there would always be something worth fighting for
at the end of the day. His lifeline, his guarantee of everything good and kind in the
world.

How could Superman have ever stood a chance?

“Something wrong?” Batman asked, pausing at the doorway and turning to face his
friend. The gilded glow of sunset painted his face with light, illuminating his unexpected
beauty. Without any conscious thought, Superman drank in the sight of him, preserving
the moment in his memory forever.

It would be the last time he would ever see Batman before losing him to another man. It
would be his last chance to tell Batman he loved him.

But he wasn’t going to do that. Not tonight, not ever. Superman would lock away these
feelings and hope that time would let them fade.

It was hard to believe that they ever would.

Nobody would ever compare to Batman.

Nobody would ever supplant him in Superman’s heart, which Superman had come to
finally accept in the last few months. Even if one day he finally moved on, there would
always be a fraction of his love that he reserved for the dark knight.

But Superman was no stranger to loneliness. He had a lifetime of experience, after all.
What was heartbreak but one more challenge to overcome?

He also had so many things to be thankful for, Batman’s friendship one of the finest
among them. He would never trade that away for anything. Besides, to know the
exquisite ache of unrequited love was to also know one of the most human experiences
there could be. At least in his loneliness, he could know he wasn’t truly alone.

At least he could find reassurance in the fact that somewhere else on Earth, at this very
moment, there was someone who understood how it felt to be unraveling in silence
while the world grew brighter around them. To be in love was to be made complete,
even if your other half was never meant to be yours. But when your missing piece
wasn’t missing you in return, there was nothing to do but hope that one day the
emptiness would no longer ache.

There was nothing to do but to let them go.

So Superman looked the love of his life straight in the eyes and shook his head.

“Not at all,” he said, giving Batman the smile that everyone expected of him. Giving
him the reassurance that everything, like always, was going to be alright. And it would.

Someday, perhaps even for Superman himself.

 Chapter 12
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Writing his somewhat depressing Superbat fic finally gives Clark some clarity about what to
do.

He’s been in love with Batman for years, and nothing has ever come of it. Sure, for a long
while he wasn’t really aware of how deep his feelings ran, but they were always there. And
yet, he’s never made any move to act on them. In part because he was afraid, in part because
he thought the potential fallout was too great a price to pay, in part because he believed his
friend to already be in a happy relationship.

Whatever the reasons, it never happened.

But that goes in both directions. If Batman really ever had feelings for Clark, he could have
confessed.

Batman was clearly capable of finagling himself into a friends-with-benefits situation. If he

had ever wanted something more than that with Clark, wouldn’t he have said so?

You didn’t say anything either, Clark’s brain says, but he ignores it.

You know Batman is notoriously terrible at expressing his emotions, his brain continues, and
he ignores that too.

The facts are these:

Clark knows Batman, that much he can say. His friend is one of the smartest people on the
planet, and despite being emotionally obtuse he knows Kal better than anyone. Wouldn’t the
World’s Greatest Detective have been able to discover Clark’s feelings for him? Maybe he’s
been trying to let Clark down easy all this time by pretending he doesn’t notice. It would be
terribly Batman of Batman to avoid a conversation by eternally skirting the circumstances
that would result in said conversation.

If Batman knows how Clark feels and has been ignoring it for the sake of their friendship —>
he doesn’t love Clark. Nothing is to be gained by confessing to him.

If Batman doesn’t know how Clark feels and doesn’t feel the same way —> he has simply
been interpreting Clark’s behaviors as friendship. Nothing is to be gained by confessing to
him.

If Batman doesn’t know how Clark feels but does feel the same way —> wouldn’t Clark have
been able to tell? Wouldn’t he have heard the skip in Batman’s pulse whenever Clark flew
close? Wouldn’t he have noticed a slight quickness of breath, or a soft flush to his face?
Wouldn’t he have seen Batman watching him more closely, seeking out his company more
often, calling him just to hear his voice?

Wouldn’t Clark have known if Batman had ever begun to reciprocate? It’s hard to hide
anything from his super senses. The fact that he hasn’t seen much change in the last some
odd years is as good a sign as any.

Nothing is to be gained by confessing to him.

Clark still loves Batman, but can he choose to keep wasting away with those feelings for
nothing? Batman said it himself: Bruce might be willing to try with Clark again.

Bruce makes Clark smile. He makes Clark feel human. Despite their differences, it feels easy
to be with him. They could make a life together. They could make each other happy. And one
day, Clark might be able to share his secret with Bruce and find comfort in one of the few
people who knows all of him.

Will Batman always hold a place in Clark’s heart? Yes. But Clark can no longer let himself
grow stagnant, complacent, endlessly dreaming of something that is neither realistic or
feasible.

He has a life to live, and already a place for his best friend in it. If he wants to be loved, he
needs to put aside his useless pining and allow himself to move on. He has to be brave
enough to take action toward his goals, to be vulnerable enough to express his feelings.

If Clark wants to know if he still has any chance with Bruce, it’s up to him to make the first
move. As for B, well.

There’s nothing to do but let Batman go.

There’s been a recent string of high profile art heists in Gotham, so Clark seizes on the
opportunity to both get the scoop and speak to Bruce while he’s in town. Cat and Lois both
give him encouraging and somewhat frightening pep talks before he heads to the train station,
but they help get him in the right mindset.

He swings by a florist to grab a bouquet before he leaves, which is a slight mistake because
then he has to carry it around while conducting his interviews at the first museum. After that,
he decides to chew and swallow the handful of proverbial bullets and see Bruce first before
continuing his work for the day.

He tries to call ahead, but Bruce’s phone goes straight to voicemail; he must be in a meeting.
This is almost enough to deter Clark, but he decides to go to WE anyway, for fear that he’ll
back out if he doesn’t go now. At the very least, he can leave the flowers for Bruce if he can’t
catch him.
The receptionist at the front desk recognizes him and takes pity. He allows Clark to have the
flowers sent up after security examines them. Clark is unburdened enough to continue his
work for the day, though he can’t help but to wonder when he’ll get a chance to talk to Bruce
about the heartfelt resolution he’s made. So far, Bruce hasn’t yet reached out first to him, but
Clark is hoping that it’s a result of his busy schedule and not a reluctance to reconnect.

Bruce settles his doubts that very afternoon, when he sends a text thanking Clark for the
flowers and expressing an interest in meeting up again if Clark is still in Gotham. Clark,
having finished his interviews at the third gallery, decides to head right back over, and
perhaps he walks a little faster than a person should on his way there.

Bruce must’ve informed his staff of Clark’s possible arrival, because he’s sent up to Bruce’s
office without trouble, and suddenly they’re face to face again before Clark has finished
rehearsing what he wants to say. Bruce looks a little gobsmacked for some reason as he looks
Clark over, but he soon realizes he’s blocking the doorway and takes a step backwards.

“Clark! I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”

He keeps staring at Clark like he’s searching for the secrets of the universe, and Clark has no
idea what it means. “I’m sorry, if it’s a bad time, I can return later-”

“Not at all, please come in,” Bruce says, taking hold of Clark’s wrist and leading him into his
office. Clark is somewhat used to the unusually calloused skin of Bruce’s hands, likely due to
his interest in rock climbing and other outdoor sports. Still, the warmth from their skin to skin
contact causes his heart to flutter slightly as Bruce leads him toward the chairs where they
held their first one-on-one interview. The closest they’ve ever been was during Bruce’s
impromptu darts lesson, and at the time, they hadn’t been dating yet. He can’t help but
extrapolate what might have happened if their relationship had ever progressed any further. If
it has a chance of progressing there ever again.

On the coffee table is the bouquet Clark sent up earlier, and Bruce picks it up as they take
their seats. His earlier surprise seems to have mostly faded, but his eyes are still very intense
as he looks at Clark. His hands fist tightly around the bouquet’s cellophane wrapping, and the
crinkling noise seems to snap him back to the present.

“You brought me flowers.”

“Everyone likes flowers,” Clark says stupidly, and a tiny smile unfolds on Bruce’s lips.

“So I’ve been told. They’re lovely. Especially the alstroemeria.”

While Clark knows his crops and seeds, he’s never been much of a flower guy, so he picked a
bouquet that he thought looked pretty. “I’m glad you like it. I tried to choose something
nice.”

“You did a wonderful job. Do you know anything about the language of flowers?” When
Clark shakes his head, Bruce runs a pale petal between his fingertips. “Alstroemeria signifies
devotion and friendship. Fitting, isn’t it?”
Oh god. Well, at least it leaves an opening for Clark.

“I- I had no idea. But that’s actually a good segue for a confession I have to make.”

“Oh?”

“Bruce, I was lying the last time I saw you.”

Bruce looks bemused, his hands clutching the bouquet against his chest. “About the pho?”

“No, about wanting to be your friend. I mean, I do want to be your friend, but I also- I was a
fool, Bruce. I didn’t realize what was right in front of me all this time-”

“You’re not a fool,” Bruce says, his brows furrowing in sympathy. “You’re in love with
someone else, and made the choice that was right for you-”

“I was in love, yes.”

Bruce’s hands fall slack, the flowers tumbling down to his lap. “Was?”

“Okay, if I’m being honest, I’m not completely over them. Like you said, there’s no timeline
for this. They still mean more to me than they’ll ever know, but I’m tired of letting myself
hang on to something that’s never going to happen.”

“Are…are you ready to move on?” Bruce rasps, and Clark leans forward on his knees,
desperate to have Bruce understand how earnest he is.

“I think I am. Being with you has helped me realize what I really want. I want to know
everything about you. I want to make you feel as at ease as you make me feel. I want to prove
that the spark between us can burn as brightly as I think it will.

“I understand if you don’t want to give me another chance. I hurt you, and if that isn’t
something you can forgive, I’d be happy to just remain friends.

“But I like you so much, Bruce, and I know it sounds extremely grade-school to put it that
way, but it’s the truth. I enjoyed every moment we spent together, and I think that we could
really have something special.”

Bruce’s expression through Clark’s little speech was worryingly blank, and by the end, it’s
become almost perturbed. For a few seconds, Clark sits in silence, waiting for his doom while
Bruce stares at him as if he doesn’t comprehend what he’s seeing.

Just as Clark is about to ask if he needs to clarify anything, or if his words got scrambled
while leaving his mouth or if suddenly Bruce only understands Québécois French, Bruce
says, “I quite like you too.”

“Oh, good,” Clark says automatically, and Bruce cracks a smile.

“I’m sorry, I’m just…digesting all of this. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”
“Take all the time you need. I can wait.”

“But I can’t leave you hanging too long; it seems like you’ve suffered enough from that
already.”

“It isn’t like I was being strung along. It was more like a far off dream,” Clark says, watching
as Bruce nods slowly. “But that’s all it is. A dream. What I want with you is rooted in reality.
I can so easily see a future for us together, and I’m willing to do what it takes to work for it.”

“A future together,” Bruce repeats. He looks down at the bouquet, and then back at Clark, his
mouth pulled into a slight frown. “Do you think it’s possible, given my reputation? You aren’t
worried that I’ll lose interest and drop you like every other lover who’s come before you?”

Clark shakes his head. “I think you’ve been putting on quite a show as Gotham’s playboy for
years, but that you’ve always been open to settling down if the right person came along. And
while I’m sorry none of those previous relationships worked out, I’m also ready to show you
that the right person could be me, if you’ll have me.”

“You make it really hard to say no to you, Clark,” Bruce says, smiling a little.

“Then don’t.”

Bruce sighs, setting the bouquet aside as he stands. “You don’t know how close I am to
agreeing, but my lawyers always tell me to sleep on a decision before signing the papers. So
give me a day or two to think it over.”

“You can have a whole week if you want.” Clark rises as well, walking with him back toward
the door. “A fortnight, even.”

“Oh, now you’re using big words to sway me.”

“Me, do something so perfidious? Never. Besides, Mr. Wayne, you’re something of a

cognoscente of ten dollar words yourself,” Clark says, thinking of the random malapropisms
Bruce would drop in the middle of interviews to confuse and anger journalists. “It would be
impossible for me to inveigle you into accepting my offer.”

“Stop that,” Bruce scolds, laughing. “This is why Ms. Lane has more awards.”

“True. But she’s not the one here with you right now.”

Their journey to the door has brought them almost shoulder to shoulder. Their gazes catch on
one another, the space between them suddenly taut with unspoken anticipation. For a
moment, the whole world feels quiet, like it does when Clark is suspended in space, the long
stretch of infinite dark radiating out in all directions away from the Earth.

Bruce must be the Earth, because Clark can’t look away, not for all the stars in the night sky.

“No, she isn’t,” Bruce says, his eyes flicking down to Clark’s mouth and back up again.
Clark feels himself closing the distance without knowing, as if his body isn’t his own. If this
were a movie, he would be lifting a hand to Bruce’s cheek like he is now. If this were a
movie, Bruce would be staring straight into Clark’s eyes as their faces draw nearer inch by
inch, until his lids fluttered closed upon the soft inhale of Clark’s breath—

A sharp knock erupts at the door. Bruce’s eyes flit back open, Clark’s hand withdraws.

“Mr. Wayne, we’re seven minutes late,” a man says from outside the office.

Bruce doesn’t look away from Clark as he responds, “Thank you, Martin, I’ll be right out.”

There’s a wry, resigned expression on his face as he reaches out to take hold of Clark’s tie,
adjusting it so it’s no longer skewed a few millimeters to the right. He smooths it flat and
Clark catches his hand as it departs his chest.

“I’d love to see you again.”

“You will, I guarantee it,” Bruce says, lips quirking at the corner. “I’ll have an answer for you
soon. Within a fortnight.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

Clark squeezes Bruce’s hand once before he opens the door and steps out into the corridor,
into the unknown. It’s up to Bruce now to decide.

While he’s in Gotham anyway, Clark decides to scope out more about this art thief situation
on his own.

He knows better than to try and interfere in something as harmless as a heist, but working
long enough with Lois has given him the occasional itch to see the action for himself. It’s
nice to see firsthand and report on things that are a little less dire and life-threatening. He
returns to a previously burgled museum to case its exits, security, alarm systems. Many
Gotham criminals tend not to be subtle in their line of work, so the fact that the thief has
escaped quietly each time, without causing any damage, is an interesting change in pace.

Climbing up to the fire escape on a building across the way, he scours the entry points and
concludes that the thief is likely lifting security cards to let themselves in. Or they have an
inside man.

“You shouldn’t be hanging so far off the edge,” a voice says from above, causing Clark to
stiffen. “That would be a hard fall to recover from.”

“Batman,” Clark says breathlessly, looking up at his friend glaring down at him from the
rooftop.
“Kent. Here for the gallery break ins?”

“Yes, actually,” Clark says, drinking in his fill of Batman as he appears to civilians, to Bruce
Wayne’s harmless maybe-boyfriend Clark Kent. His cape flutters dramatically behind him,
and the visible portion of his face looks stern, but not angry. He actually looked more
frightening that one time he broke into Clark’s apartment than he does now, but Clark
shouldn’t try to act too comfortable around him. Batman will surely find it suspicious.

“You aren’t going to find anything. The culprits have already been caught; the artwork will
all be returned shortly.”

“Oh.” Well, that’s disappointing. “Would you like to give a comment on the case? Culprits,
motives, methods, what clues they left behind to help you catch them…”

“You can find out from the GCPD tomorrow, like everyone else.”

“Cold. C’mon, not even a tip for a…friend of a friend?”

“Is that what you are?” Batman asks. He sounds amused, which is better than Clark expected.
While Batman and Superman are close, he’s been a bit worried that Batman’s opinion of
Clark Kent is low. That’s one more reason why it would be better to pursue Bruce, who holds
a high opinion of both Clark and Superman. Still, Clark would much rather prefer for Batman
not to dislike his civilian identity.

“Is there a better term for our relationship?”

“What relationship?” Batman asks as he leaps down to land lightly next to Clark on the fire
escape. The words sting, but Clark suppresses his reaction.

“Well, we’re only a degree of separation from each other. I figure that makes us something,
even if I don’t know what label to put on it.”

“Worry less about what label to apply to us, and more about what label to apply to you and
Wayne.”

“Did he tell you?” Clark asks, his chest tightening at the thought. Should he be optimistic that
Batman knows?

“He didn’t have to.” Batman looks away from Clark toward the art gallery, at the streetlights
glancing off the blank walls where paintings used to hang. “You’re the only thing that’s been
on his mind recently.”

Clark’s organs begin to tumble dry in his torso, rolling around like loose marbles in a mason
jar.

Has there ever been any precedence for a situation like this? How is Clark supposed to feel
about the fact that the two men he loves apparently have some kind of understanding about
him? How is he supposed to process the fact that Batman is currently his best resource in
understanding Bruce’s heart?
“I’m hoping that’s a good sign,” he croaks.

Batman grunts, before turning back to stare Clark down with his blank white lenses. “Are
you serious about him?

As serious as I was about you. As serious as I could ever be about anyone.

“Yes,” Clark says, resisting the urge to clap Batman on the shoulder, or give a little tug at his
cape. He can’t jostle Batman with an elbow or drag a reluctant smile out of him with a silly
joke. He isn’t Kal right now. He isn’t anything to Batman, not even a friend of a friend. “Like
I told you, I want him to be happy. And I want to be the person lucky enough to have the
right to do that.”

“You come from different worlds.”

“That’s not enough to deter me. I’ll meet him where he is, until we can accept each other
wholly.”

“There are more secrets to him than are apparent from first glance.”

Clark shrugs. “And I trust that he keeps them for good reason. Who doesn’t have secrets?
Maybe one day he feels comfortable enough to share them with me. Maybe one day I’ll feel
the same. Until then, I’ll try not to worry about it too much.”

“Hm,” Batman says. He takes a step backwards. “You’ll always have to share him with
Gotham.”

Clark had always been prepared for that, though those half-dreamed plans were for the man
standing in front of him, and not Bruce. But the fact doesn’t change that he understands that
Gotham is as tightly entwined with Bruce as it is Batman. Any relationship he wants with
either of them will always have to acknowledge their beloved city’s place in their lives.

But Clark understands. He loves an entire planet, after all.

“Anyone who wasn’t aware of that from the start never really understood Bruce at all. He
loves Gotham as much as it loves him. I can live with that.”

He can hear Batman’s slow inhale, his heart stuttering just the once, before he places one foot
on the fire escape rail and readies his grappling gun.

“Maybe you really do care about him.”

“I do. Will you put in a good word for me?” Clark asks, his hands tightening on the rail to
steady it, but not enough to dent the metal. “He trusts you. As do I.”

“Your mistake. And there’s nothing I could say that would sway him more than your own
actions already have.”

“I’m going to read that as a positive sign.”

“You would,” Batman says dryly, and Clark blinks at him through the dark.

Does Bruce talk about him after all? Or is this statement based off of Batman’s own
observations? Just what does Batman think about Clark?

“Don’t stay out too late. You’ll only be courting trouble,” Batman warns, his tone as stern as
it is when he lectures Leaguers about taking reckless risks.

“Worried about me?” Clark teases, and Batman lets out a huff of breath.

“No, just doing my job as the fun police,” he mutters as he grapples away.

Clark listens to his heartbeat as it blurs into the Gotham backdrop of noise. Perhaps he’s
reading too much into this interaction, but it feels almost like Batman just gave Clark his
blessing to pursue a relationship with Bruce. It’s both touching and painful.

Batman really doesn’t care if Bruce ends up with someone else. Nor is there any possibility
that he thinks of Clark as anything but a bothersome acquaintance. It’s good that Clark hasn’t
yet revealed his identity.

They are, in the end, not destined to mean more to each other than they already do.

He lets the sound of Batman’s pulse fade from his senses as he climbs down the fire escape.
It would be delusional to think he could ever forget the sound, but he should stop holding
onto Batman’s heart in hopes that it would one day become his.

Bruceman HQ

#general-chat

ames 🌈: Anyway we’re going to go on our first date Saturday aaahhhh

Z: aw that’s amazing ames!!

scubatuba: YES GIRL

K: That’s so great, we’re all thrilled for you! 😄

Hawkgrrrrrl: Tell us how it goes!

ames 🌈: I will!
ames 🌈: But enough about me, how’s y’all’s lives???
ames 🌈: Tuba you’re graduating soon right?
scubatuba: yes BUT I didn’t finish my thesis yetttt 🙃🙃🙃

scubatuba: anyway FUCK school let’s talk about ✨ 🌸 love 🌸✨ instead!!!!!!

scubatuba: K did you hear back from that guy yet??

K: Haha, not yet. It’s only been a day.

bats307: The “one that got away”, right? I hope he gives you a clear answer either way.

K: Don’t worry, I’m sure he will!

Wrathful: Cheering you on K

Z: omg i hope it works out!!

Me1on: we’re here for you no matter what!

Z: better not tell shadow if it doesn’t pan out though XD

Z: you know he’s your ride or die; he’ll fight this guy if he breaks your heart

shadow: yeah i’ll come raise hell!!! -_-

ames 🌈: Uh oh! Shadow unleashed!

K: 🤣 Zahra’s right; I shouldn’t tell you guys. I don’t want to see Shadow getting toppled
over trying to fight someone a foot taller than him 😅

K: But thanks everyone!

shadow: …i’m not even that short >_<

scubatuba: ok but if I put shadow on my shoulders we should be tall enough to battle 😤

Me1on: but tubby you’re only like 4’ 11” 😭😭

scubatuba: well sorry we can’t all be FREAKISHLY TALL like you and Tabs!!!!!!!

Wrathful: Speaking of Tabs do we know if she survived the fantasy bang deadline rush

Hawkgrrrrrl: Haha, last I checked she made it in time.

shadow: omg that reminds me i haven’t submitted any prompts for bman nsfw week yet

Hawkgrrrrrl: Better get on it!

Z: there’s a lot of good stuff in there already 🥵

ames 🌈: Take it to the NSFW channels babes 😘

While Clark awaits Bruce’s answer, he decides to review his list of WIPs and get his fandom
life more organized. He’s finished all the commission fics that were on his docket, so it’s
back to work on the last two chapters of his parent trap fic. He’s got a few other ideas on his
mind, like a fun little Victorian Era vampire AU or a medieval romance. Maybe even a
drabble anthology based on some of those hundred word prompts he’s seen on tumblr. He’d
love to write a plottier, more serious case fic too, where Bruce gets dragged into one of
Batman’s investigations and sparks fly. The possibilities are literally without end.

Even if Bruceman never happens in reality, that doesn’t mean Clark has to stop writing about
them.

Then again, what if he and Bruce really start dating?

Clark stops typing.

It would be weird to write about his boyfriend falling in love with his best friend. Seems a
little sad for him, Clark Kent, personally.

“Not that anybody would know,” Clark mutters, but he would know, and that should be
enough of a reason, right? Doesn’t he have enough self-respect to stop writing stories about
the two men he loves getting together? Isn’t his personal life complicated enough without
having to wonder about the psychological ramifications of fantasizing about a relationship
that has no room for him?

Should he…join a different fandom? Get into a different ship?

He could surely write a decent Green Arrow/Black Canary. Or maybe Flash/Green Lantern.
His fandom friends would be surprised that he’s moved on from Bruceman, but maybe he
could keep reading the fics and enjoying the art, even if he stops creating for the ship.

A sideways move could be the right choice. His fic about his own one-sided love actually
received a pretty good reception, even from some people who consider themselves Superbat
fans. He certainly can’t become a Superbat, but there are other options.

Clark could join the ranks of the Wayneman fans, he supposes. After he rescued Bruce that
one time, there was a brief burst of activity from people who caught sight of Superman flying
Bruce back to Wayne Manor. Gossip flew about two of the country’s most famous men
starting a whirlwind rescue romance. A new ship was born, and it has some dedicated fans,
though it’s still tiny compared to behemoths like Superbat and Bruceman.

He could also become one of the handful of Clark/Bruce writers — he has no idea what the
ship name is, since it seems to change each time he sees it — but that feels illegal. What kind
of weirdo writes stories about his own relationship? Not that Wayneman wouldn’t also be his
own relationship, but he could invent a believable Superman civilian identity OC that puts a
little distance between himself and his fiction.

There’s also the option of doing Reader fic, but he’s not sure he has the right mindset to pull
that off. Self-Insert fic is something he’s already skirted too close to writing.

Superbruceman is a possibility, but that one’s the most illegal of all. What kind of weirdo
writes stories about his own polyamorous relationship with the object of his unrequited
desire?

But the biggest problem of all is that none of these pairings stir his heart the same way
Bruceman does. Nothing else speaks to his very soul. That special spark just isn’t there.

Ugh. It might be best to just pause on all fandom activity until Clark knows where he stands
with Bruce. Or take a foray into gen fic for a change in pace. There’s always more room for
Justice League shenanigans, after all.

Three days into the waiting game and one day into Clark’s attempts to write some JL bonding
time, Bruce Wayne comes to Metropolis as a guest at the unveiling of the self-piloting
helicopters being developed by Marston Labs. Clark isn’t assigned to the event, but Bruce
texts him that morning asking if they can meet that afternoon after the showcase. Clark, his
nerves fizzling, quickly agrees, and they make arrangements to meet at a bakery-cafe.

Clark tries not to think about anything in the hours leading up to their meeting, because he’s
afraid he’ll spiral. He has no way of knowing what Bruce is going to say, so he won’t dwell
on it. Whatever the outcome, he’s going to be okay.

He has plenty of work to do, so he sits in the bullpen at his computer for most of the morning.
Lois swings by briefly and flips out when Clark tells her he’s planning to see Bruce tonight.
They debate with Jimmy for a bit about whether it would be overkill to bring flowers again.
Jimmy argues that if anything Bruce should be bringing flowers, which Clark isn’t opposed
to but has no control over. Lois leaves to go on assignment but not before making Clark
promise to tell her how tonight goes.

Trying to put Bruce out of his mind again, Clark returns to his work, but the universe has
other plans.

“Superman!” someone shrieks from elsewhere in the city as he’s doing his scan for
misspellings. The cry is echoed by a flurry of horrified gasps, so Clark quickly closes his
laptop, and beats a hasty exit for the Planet rooftop so he can change.

Even as he takes off into the air, he can see the problem from where he is. The self-driving
helicopter is careening wildly around the sky, seemingly fighting with itself. As he zooms
toward it, someone suddenly flings themselves out of the cockpit as the helicopter veers
toward a distant building.

The dark hair and fancy suit look familiar—

Is that Bruce?!

“Fucking Metropolis,” Bruce is yelling as he hurtles to his death, the helicopter thing
wandering off on its own. Clark speeds up for the remaining meters and snatches him out of
the air.

He doesn’t even have time to register why Bruce is here before he’s being shaken by the
collar.

“There’s a bomb in the helicopter!” Bruce says urgently. “I don’t know where it’s headed, but
it’s set to blow any minute.”

Clark zeroes in on it immediately. With his speed, can easily grab the helicopter and stop it,
but not while holding Bruce, who would sustain injury from going that fast.

“I need to put you down first-”

“Forget me. You have super speed, don’t you? Use it! Toss me in the air and catch me on the
way back down. I know you can do it.”

“But-”

“Superman,” Bruce says, grabbing Clark by the shoulders and staring intently into his eyes.
“I trust you. Go.”

Christ alive, he can’t believe he’s going to do this.

“Be right back,” he swears, and tosses Bruce gently into the air before taking off toward the
helicopter with a burst of superspeed.

Bruce has approximately twelve seconds until impact.

Clark gets to the helicopter in one second, severs the wires of the bomb he located on his way
over with a slice of heat vision, and crushes the whole thing into a compact ball for good
measure, hurling the chunk of former helicopter into space so it doesn’t fall on unsuspecting
citizens. He’ll have to go get it back later. Space littering is a big no no.

Then he’s flying back the way he came, going in for a gentle swoop to catch Bruce in his
arms with room to lessen the impact.

He does it with six seconds to spare, which is still too few to make him comfortable. At least
the people down below seem pleased, what with all the excited hootin’ and hollerin’.

“Hi,” Clark says, short of breath with anxiety, his arms firmly secured around Bruce’s legs
and waist. This was not how he hoped to be seeing Bruce today.
“Hello,” Bruce replies, eyes wide. His hands tangle into Clark’s cape for lack of something
better to do. The poor man gets kidnapped all the time, but he likely hasn’t had a lot of
experience falling from heights.

His heart is pounding, but— it’s really not as fast as Clark assumed it would be, based on the
circumstances. In fact, it’s already slowing down to a pace that’s abnormally steady.

Baffled, Clark continues to listen as it evens out further until it reaches what seems to be
resting rate. He comes to a stop in midair as that heartbeat drums into his brain, a steadfast
rhythm that drives away all other thoughts.

“Superman?” Bruce asks breathlessly.

“Mr. Wayne, have you…” Have you always had that heart is an insanely moronic question to
ask, but it’s all Clark can think about, because he knows this pulse.

He would know it on the other side of the planet, he would know it in his sleep. He would
know it anywhere in the universe, but its existence here and now makes no sense.

It’s Batman’s pulse. But that can’t be right.

“Have I what?” Bruce’s eyebrows crinkle in confusion. “Are you alright, Superman?” He
reaches up to press his hand to Clark’s forehead, as if checking for a fever.

“I’m great,” Clark answers on auto-pilot as his brain whirs, churning into overdrive. “Have
you any idea why there was a bomb in the helicopter?” he asks as he continues to process.

“No, but Dr. Patel might be the intended target; I only wound up in the cockpit because she
felt too nauseated to get in. Morning sickness, I think, Dr. Samuels did mention something
about naysayers in his opening ceremony speech, though who might be upset with the lab, I
don’t know.”

The fact that Bruce has all this information is strange enough, but it doesn’t answer Clark’s
bigger question (besides the heartbeat problem): “But why were you the passenger?”

Bruce shrugs. “I volunteered. Dr. Samuels is afraid of heights and Dr. Kim has a heart
condition. Anyway, I’ve flown a helicopter or two before.”

Still not a great reason to be the person to demonstrate a brand new experimental vehicle, but
Clark will dwell more on that later. He’s too busy studying Bruce’s face, looking for any hint
that he isn’t going completely off the deep end.

That mouth.

He’d thought it strangely familiar before, but now he can’t see anything but Batman’s lips on
Bruce’s face. That jawline too…

“Great Scott,” Clark mutters as he begins flying them back to the ground, and Bruce nods
contritely.
“Yes, it might not have been the best idea to go up there. Anyway, we should stop meeting
like this before people get the wrong idea,” Bruce says, the corner of his lips tilted up in
amusement. Clark knows that smirk. He’s memorized it fifteen times over, but to see it
now…no. It makes no sense. “I wouldn’t want to be known as the homewrecker of the
Justice League.”

“Well, twice isn’t a pattern yet,” Clark replies automatically. “But it’d be a weight off my
mind if you tried to avoid situations like this in the future.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Bruce’s pulse continues to thump thump away in that maddening Batman rhythm, and try as
he might, Clark can’t hear it anywhere else in the world. Which means his senses aren’t
deceiving him.

Bruce’s heart is Batman’s heart. Which means that Bruce is—

No, Clark isn’t going there until he has some more proof. Luckily, with his abilities, there’s
an easy way to check. He shouldn’t look, but he needs to know. Just one sign, one piece of
incontrovertible evidence, to either confirm this insane theory or lay his swirling conspiracies
to rest.

As he lowers Bruce to the ground, careful to make sure he has steady footing before letting
go, Clark x-rays his left calf. There should be a checkmark-shaped scar there from last year
that won’t have faded yet, sustained while Batman was evacuating people from a collapsing
building.

Through the layer of wool, Clark scans, searching for the small, specific nick that would
settle his doubts.

And there it is, three inches below the knee. Checkmark-shaped scar. The one Clark helped
clean himself.

No. Clark can’t accept it. It’s not possible.

So he looks again. And again. He looks until there’s absolutely no room for uncertainty.

Raggedly healed puncture wound near the waist. Fading bite mark on the right bicep. Burn
scar right below the collarbone. Acid burn across both thighs. Scratch marks scored unevenly
across the chest. Spiraling knife scar carved down the length of his left forearm. Bones in
every limb showing evidence of having been broken, healed, and broken again, several times
over. A body that’s sustained the kinds of injuries that would break an ordinary person.

“Thank you for the rescue,” Bruce is saying as Clark’s world crumbles around him, as a truth
he never could have expected reveals itself. “Metropolitans are lucky to have you.”

For now, all Clark can do is shut down the part of his mind that’s processing this information
and go all in on being Superman until he has the time to unpack everything.
“Always happy to lend a hand. Please tell Marston Labs to follow up with Metropolis PD; I
would stay but there’s a landslide I’ve got to get to.”

“Of course.”

Bruce waves goodbye as Clark takes off into the sky, and despite himself, Clark watches him
until he’s nothing more than a speck on the ground. And then he turns, and with a burst of
speed, heads across the Atlantic.

Clark keeps himself occupied for about forty minutes flying around the globe rescuing
people, and then he returns to the Planet to busy himself there for another interminable chunk
of time until he can excuse himself to finish his work at home. It helps that he looks dreadful
when he tells Perry he’s leaving.

He has only enough foresight to text Bruce and tell him something came up with work. Bruce
responds with an offer to come back to Metropolis the following day, because he really wants
to see Clark in person when he gives his answer. Clark gives a noncommittal kind of
agreement and then he shuts himself in his bedroom and proceeds to have a total existential
crisis lying face down on his mattress, legs dangling off the edge of the bed.

Bruce Wayne is Batman.

Bruce Wayne is Batman, which means he can’t have been dating or fucking himself.
Bruceman isn’t real.

Bruceman isn’t real because Bruce is Batman and they were never in love and every single
reference he thought they were making about each other was about something unrelated
because they are the same person and when Clark imploded his relationships because he
didn’t want to get between Batman — who he is in love with — and Bruce — who he’s
quickly falling for — it was utterly pointless because they are the same fucking person and
Clark fell in love with Batman twice and gave up on both relationships in favor of one that
can’t even exist because Batman is Bruce Wayne!!!

He hasn’t even begun to process the fact that he then spent days agonizing over the choice
between two men who were really one man all along. Or the fact that he had a sexy dream
about a physically impossible threesome.

Batman is Bruce, and Clark is an idiot.

“Oh my god,” he mumbles, rolling over so he faces the ceiling. As he lies there, he replays
every single interaction he had with either identity over the last six months.

Even if he puts aside all the obvious Bruceman evidence that was really Bruce = Batman
evidence all along, he’s been blithely ignorant of hints that were right in front of his face all
this time.

Bruce put salsa verde on his tacos. He didn’t pet any of the dogs at the dog park even though
he was clearly itching to. God, he gave Clark an extemporaneous lecture about the
archaeopteryx when they went to the Metropolis Sciences Museum.

Bruce is funny and clever and sweet. Batman is brilliant and diligent and devoted. Two sides
of the same coin. Two people overflowing with the same boundless love.

How did Clark never see it before?

His son Dick must be young Robin. His family tragedy, the catalyst that led to his career as
Batman. His love for Gotham, for humanity itself, the driving force behind his mission.

The reason he’s so coy about Batman is he doesn’t want anyone to look too closely at their
connection. Clark thinks blankly about each time Bruce mentioned Batman before.

“Ha, I suppose between the two of us, she’s got a few bases covered.”

“Besides, I should show some loyalty to my own local hero, shouldn’t I? I don’t want people
spreading rumors that I’m easy for any man in a cape.”

“Do you think there’s anybody who knows him as well as I do?”

Bruce clearly knows that people think he’s in a relationship with himself, and he takes careful
pains not to deny it. He admitted as much to Clark. So why did they date? Was it real for him
or not? Clark had beaten himself up so much for accidentally breaking Bruce’s heart, but now
he isn’t sure dating him wasn’t some insane Batman plan all along. Is that why he hasn’t
responded to Clark’s confession yet? Because their connection was never genuine after all?

But the body doesn’t lie, not even for someone as well-trained as Batman. Bruce’s
disappointment when Clark broke things off had been real. And that encounter with Batman
in his apartment…

“It isn’t like you ever had feelings for him. He was happy when he was with you.”

That had been the truth. Bruce had enjoyed his time with Clark. Bruce wanted to be with him.
Batman had more or less told Kal this, to his face.

“If your friend wanted to give it another try, Wayne would likely accept.”

He’d also come to interrogate Clark as Batman on his own behalf. Surely that must be a sign
that he wants Clark to be as invested in their relationship as he is?

The more Clark thinks about it, the more he’s sure that Bruce already knows his identity. First
of all, he’s Batman. There isn’t much that gets past him. Second, the probing questions
Batman had been asking Kal about his love life might have been attempts to see if he really
felt anything for Bruce. Third, he’s always been understanding the couple of times Clark had
to duck out on him early, which makes sense if he knows Clark is Superman.
How long has Bruce known? Was he aware that he was dating Kal? Or did he discover
Clark’s identity later? That’s something Clark won’t find out until they talk tomorrow.

For now, he reviews what he does know.

Clark is in love with both Batman and Bruce, which is extremely silly and predictable, now
that he knows they’re the same person. Despite the ups and downs of their journey here, he’d
still like to pursue a relationship.

He also knows that Bruce likes him. And that Bruce probably knows that Clark is Superman.

So then why on Earth did Batman tell Superman he was in some kind of sugar baby
arrangement with Bruce???

“I just keep him around for his money. He makes frequent and repeated use of my body. We
have the same goals, and we use each other to that end.”

What kind of melodramatic, uncommunicative, complicated, self-sabotaging, ludicrously ill-

socialized asshole would refer to himself that way? What the fuck.

Clark hates him so much.

Clark loves him beyond reason.

Clark is…probably going to strangle him the next time they see each other. Stupid annoying
Batman and his stupid theatrical plots.

Whatever bizarre goal he was trying to achieve is inaccessible to Clark. He’ll have to ask
after they discuss everything else. He can only hope that Bruce still wants to be with him.
Clark’s identity as Superman might throw a wrench in those plans — it’s possible Batman
does only think of Kal as a friend. But when he thinks back to that conversation in the Hall of
Justice, he can’t help but think that Batman had been sending signals of potential interest.

Did he know, then? Was his heart also caught between Clark and Kal, wondering if either of
them could return his feelings? Was he also hoping that at least one of them loved him as
much as he loved them? Ugh, Clark is projecting again.

“You, of all people, deserve to be loved,” B had told Clark. Was he speaking from his own
heart?

Rao, Clark doesn’t know if he can wait until tomorrow. He wants to talk to Bruce now, to
finally settle everything between them.

He can’t fly over to Gotham and confront Bruce like this. Like Bruce said, the last thing he
needs is people linking Superman and Bruce Wayne. Clark will have to hope Bruce doesn’t
think him a total flake for calling off their meeting and then rescheduling it again. Feeling
foolish, he sends a message telling Bruce he’s actually free now.

Luckily, Bruce responds to Clark’s text with an invitation to his hotel room; he hasn’t yet left
Metropolis for the day. Clark doesn’t want to read too much into the fact that they’re meeting
in private. He’s just happy that he’ll be able to see Bruce again.

Finally rolling off the bed where he’s been wallowing, he goes to freshen up for his meeting.
It wouldn’t do to look like a trainwreck when he makes his confession. He should also go
fetch that helicopter ball before it ends up in the next galaxy over.

Clark does his best not to pace outside Bruce’s suite for fear of burning a hole into the plush
carpet. He’s glad that Bruce doesn’t keep him waiting long.

“Mr. Wayne,” Clark greets when the door swings open. His hands feel sweaty. He didn’t even
think he could sweat. Now he’s kind of concerned about what else could be making his palms
moist. Yuck.

“Croak,” Bruce answers with a smile. “Come in.”

As he follows Bruce, Clark studies him again. His gait is different as Bruce; Batman either
walks with menacing purpose or with unparalleled stealth. But the shape of his lower face
matches what Clark can see below the cowl, and beneath the nice clothes must be a body that
fills out the batsuit. Clark has seen a topless photo or two of Bruce in the past, and though he
had scars from his “extreme sports accidents,” many of the larger ones must have been
covered up by some kind of makeup.

Batman’s voice is lower, its timbre rougher, and the way he moves is so much more
coordinated than Bruce, who has a fluid, flimsy kind of dignity that quickly goes out the
window when his apparently calculated clumsiness kicks in. It’s all an extension of the
magnificent control he has over his own body, but he plays the part so well no one can tell.

“I heard about what happened at the exhibition. I’m so glad you’re alright,” Clark says,
subtly trying to pat his hands dry on his pants as they sit on the couch. In retrospect, Clark
wishes he’d paid more attention to the feeling of Bruce’s unarmored weight in his arms. It
was a rare opportunity.

“So am I,” Bruce chuckles. “It’s a good thing your local hero can fly. I’ll admit, it was pretty
thrilling to be saved by him.” The curve of his mouth is amused, almost teasing.

Oh, Bruce definitely knows. Jerk.

“You didn’t come all the way here to turn me down in favor of Superman, did you?” Clark
jokes, listening to the tiny hitch in Bruce’s breath.

“Of course not. I told you before, I won’t rank him above you. But while we’re talking about
us, let me get to the point. Thank you for your patience with me,” Bruce says, taking Clark’s
hand in his. His skin is warm and his eyes imploring. If it weren’t a security risk, Clark would
suggest he ditch the lenses in the cowl in favor of staring soulfully into his rogues’ eyes.
They might reform on the spot.

“It was no problem.”

“I do want to be with you, if you’ll still have me.”

“Always,” Clark responds right away, because that’s the most important message to convey
before anything else.

Upon hearing his answer, Bruce gives him the loveliest smile: a perfect mix of Bruce
Wayne’s and Batman’s, and so clearly relieved that it makes Clark’s chest ache.

The obvious echo of his own emotions has him surging with happiness, and he knows he
must be beaming back like an utterly besotted fool. But what else can he do, when the man
he’s loved for years has finally confirmed that he has feelings for Clark too?

“This isn’t the ideal place for a date, but we can find somewhere to go,” Bruce offers,
glancing around the suite. Clark shakes his head.

“We’ve had plenty of chances to go out. As wonderful as it’s been, I think this time around,
it’d be nice if we could also have some private time just for ourselves.”

“Finally making your move, Mr. Kent?”

“I think I am. Can I kiss you?”

“As much as you’d like.”

This time, Clark kisses Bruce with no intention to leave.

This time, Clark isn’t afraid of letting too many of his emotions show in the tender way he
holds Bruce’s face, the possessive hand at his hip, the eager press of his lips. The fleeting
thought that this is actually the second time he’s kissed Batman occurs to him as he crowds
Bruce against the couch cushions. Bruce touches him tentatively at first, but when Clark lets
him up for air and then kisses him again only seconds later, he gives in to his desire, pulling
Clark in closer. Clark files away every sensation, from Bruce’s taste to his soft gasp of sound,
to the pressure of Bruce’s hand tangled in his hair, to that heartbeat that’s finally beating at a
faster rhythm than normal. His own fervor is met with equal enthusiasm from Bruce, and
Clark feels like they might melt into one another soon enough.

Clark would be content to let this go on forever, but he needs to talk through the whole
Superman and Batman thing with Bruce before this delves into any deeper territory.

When they pull apart, Clark’s glasses are askew and Bruce’s face is flushed. They’re both
still fully clothed, but Bruce has tugged Clark’s tie loose and Clark has rumpled Bruce’s nice
shirt under his grip. The temperature between them feels several degrees hotter than when
they started this conversation, so before he loses control and derails himself, he links Bruce’s
fingers with his but scoots a little further away on the couch. And maybe adjusts his pants a
little while doing so.
“Bruce, I do have something I wanted to tell you.”

“Hm?” Bruce says. He looks a bit dazed, which is a boost to Clark’s pride. Not many things
can make Batman’s brain go offline like that.

“I’m sorry about earlier today.”

“Sorry for what?”

“I dropped you. For the third time this year.”

Bruce blinks at him once, twice, before his entire demeanor shifts. It isn’t that he stops being
Bruce exactly, but his bearing is suddenly much more cautious, taut, his eyes sharp again. He
stares warily at Clark for a moment before he notices that Clark very intentionally did not let
go of his hand.

“You figured it out,” he murmurs, and Clark squeezes his hand.

“Unintentionally. I- I was checking your vitals. And then I noticed they seemed familiar.
After all, there are only a few heartbeats in the world that I’ve memorized. So how could I
not know, once I finally listened to Bruce Wayne’s pulse? From there, a little peek confirmed
the rest.”

“I should’ve known you would scan me after the fall,” Bruce says wryly. “Superman always
looks for injuries.”

“You gave me a scare, asking me to throw you like that.”

“I knew it would be fine. You always catch me.”

Bruce speaks with Batman’s certainty, his faith in Clark absolute. Clark feels so fond of him
that he has to steal another kiss, and then they get sidetracked for another few minutes until
Clark reluctantly lets Bruce catch his breath again.

“How long have you known who I was? Since some time after we broke up?” he asks as
Bruce tries to comb his curls back into place. A couch cushion has fallen to the floor, and
Bruce’s shirt is starting to look a little worse for the wear.

“What makes you think I haven’t always known?”

“B,” Clark scolds, and Bruce’s mouth twitches.

“I pieced it together the first time you rescued Bruce Wayne.”

“Wait, then you already knew when you broke into my apartment-”

“I was looking for proof of your identity when you interrupted me. Every conversation we
had that night was a clumsy attempt to understand how you really felt about me. I’m not sure
how successful I was.”
“Considering you convinced me you were sleeping with yourself for money, not very!”

“Perhaps not my brightest moment. When you came here today, I was going to tell you my
identity and put an end to that confusion. But it all worked out. You didn’t even have to
choose between me and myself,” Bruce says, smirking when Clark pinches his hand for his
transgressions.

“On that note, I just want to make sure we’re on the same page.” Bracing himself, just in case
he still feels much more deeply than his partner does, Clark confesses, “I love you, Bruce. In
every identity, apparently. And I’m hoping you feel the same way about me, but I realize now
that we only ever agreed to date as Clark and Bruce, and not Superman and Batman, so if
that’s a roadblock to our relationship, then I’ll- well, I don’t know there’s much to be done
about it than to try to win you over as Kal too-”

“Clark,” Bruce interrupts, placing a finger over Clark’s lips to stop his rambling. “For some
reason this seems to be a surprise to you, but I do love you too. All of you, twice over. Clark
Kent is a delight. And I meant it when I said I was happy with him. But I did fall for Kal first,
if that helps settle your nerves.”

“You did?” Clark furrows his brow. “When? Are you sure?”

“Kal,” Bruce says, his voice full of Batman exasperation. “I’m not that terrible at emotions,
no matter what you and the others say. Do you remember the mission with the sinkhole and
the radioactive roots?”

“The thing off the coast of Greenland?”

“Yes. Afterwards, you rolled me in your cape for the flight back to the States. I remember
thinking you were the only person I would ever tolerate swaddling me in a bindle, and then
during the flight back I had to confront exactly what that meant. So. Since then.”

“That long? B, that was years ago.”

“I know.”

Clark closes his eyes to process this. Years. Batman— Bruce has been in love with him for so
long without Clark ever noticing. All that time that they could have been together, wasted.
But no, he can’t think of it that way. He would never trade away those years of friendship.
He’s just disappointed that he was so blind to the affection of the person he thought he knew
best in the world.

“I can’t believe I never realized.”

“I’m good at withholding information,” Bruce says gently. “And you’ve never been one to
put much stock in your own charm. I loved you too quietly, I suppose.”

“No. You love in the same way you do everything else. I just never understood because I
didn’t even know the depth of my own feelings until recently, even if they’d been there just
as long.” Bruce raises an eyebrow, and Clark elaborates. “I didn’t realize how bad I had it
until that time you came to the fortress recently. You were sitting there and it just hit me that
this was it. I could have spent forever with you like this. A few months later I was talking to
you on the phone about clown spray and it felt like I was falling all over again.”

A small smile alights on Bruce’s lips. “We’re two peas in a pod, aren’t we? I thought I had no
chance with you as Kal, so you were a welcome distraction as Clark. I hadn’t expected our
dates to go anywhere but somewhere along the line, you stole my heart all over again. Maybe
it was the time you stopped to tie a child’s shoe. Or all those articles of yours I pretended I
never read. I wasn’t ready to think of Clark as a viable option, but at every turn you were just
so damn likable.”

“I can tone it down. Make myself less affable.”

“I really, really don’t think you can,” Bruce says, fondness written all over his face. “It goes
against everything that you are. But I’ll live with it.”

“Well, if you can do that, I suppose I could learn to deal with your brilliant mind. I still need
help with my botany files, after all.”

“I see. So it was the plants that did it for you, farmboy?” Bruce teases, and Clark grins,
pulling him closer by the hips.

“I do love it when you start talking about science. Batman and Bruce both. I really should
have figured you out when you were telling me all about Paracelsus at dinner. I don’t know
anyone else who knows who he is, let alone his full name.”

“That reminds me that I never finished telling you about the history of toxicology.”

“You could tell me more now.” Clark clears his throat. “Or you could show me how much
better the royal suite’s bed is than the one in my apartment.”

Bruce leaps gracefully to his feet. “Toxicology can wait. Come this way.” He tugs at Clark’s
wrist until Clark stands, smiling at his impatience.

“Actually, one last question.”

“What?” Bruce says distractedly, too busy trying to drag Clark across the spacious living
room rug.

“Why were you in the helicopter today?”

“Oh, I was interested in potential upgrades to add to the Whirly-Bat, and there was clearly
something going on. Luckily, I’m very persuasive.”

“Right. And did you have a plan in mind when you threw yourself out of it?”

“I knew you were on the way. No better exit strategy than Superman.”

That makes Clark feel marginally better about today. “What was up with the bomb?”
 “From what I can tell, the work of a disgruntled ex-employee trying to get revenge because
the lab shut down his robo-gorilla project. I can give you all my files about it later.” He gives
up on towing Clark in favor of wrapping an arm around Clark’s shoulder and guiding him
smoothly through the luxurious bathroom toward the bedroom doors.

“While you’re at it, give me your art heist files too. I know you know more than what was
said at the GCPD press conference.”

“I cannot believe you’re thinking about work when you could have my hand down your
pants,” Bruce grumbles. “Have I lost my touch? Used to be all I had to do was drop to my
knees and they’d be putty in my hands…”

Clark finally scoops him up, putting them in the bedroom with a burst of superspeed. “You
don’t need to seduce me, Bruce, I’m already yours.”

“I’ll believe it when you stop plaguing me for a scoop and start putting your mouth to better
use. Or do I need to draw up a tactical bedroom plan for you to follow?”

“If it’s what gets your motor running, then sure,” Clark says as he nudges the door closed
with a foot. “But I’m pretty good at improvising.”

“Let’s see you prove it,” Bruce says, pulling Clark in for a kiss as they finally fall into bed
together, not a moment too soon.

Chapter End Notes

All that's left is for our two mutuals to meet IRL...

Meanwhile, please enjoy the ups and downs of Clark's day by the lovely BattyBat!
 Chapter 13
Chapter Notes

End of the line!! Thanks a billion to everyone who's read and suffered alongside these
two idiots!! I love you, Superbat fandom, even if Clark doesn't lmaooo

Brief notes:
- The M rating continues to only be a result of spicy Bruceman content haha sorry

💗💗
- In the end notes is an optional secret ending (just more crack)
- I think that's it, so thanks again!! Hope you enjoy the ending!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

GD @gothamdish

Bruce Wayne spotted with ex Clark Kent in Star City this weekend.

[Photograph of Bruce and Clark seated at an outdoor cafe together — Bruce is folding a
napkin and Clark is smiling.]

tory @380tothemoon
Replying to @gothamdish

No please this has to be real my heart can’t take it anymore

Zzzxx @hydrangead
Replying to @gothamdish

ahhh look how cute they are!! 💕

CAL?? 🍄@knife19471
Replying to @gothamdish

OH SHITTT CLRUCK BACK TOGETHER?? CAN I BELEIVE IN LOCE AGAIN??

mozzarella pope @garnetinhand

Bruce has licherally been caught on camera 3 times in the LAST WEEK lookin at his bf
like hes the sun moon and stars like?? probably time to move on guys!!

Katya on break @RiseAndRind

Replying to @garnetinhand
br*cemans:

[I pretend I do not see it meme]

Ice Witch @supeshaircurl

Replying to @RiseAndRind and @garnetinhand

lmfao their denial’s so strong it could single-handedly power WW’s jet

blimp problems @cactusp6

superman flew batman away from the scene today 😊

world’s finest are back!!

roast potato breakup era @kryptonlovebeam

Replying to @cactusp6

Yes!!! We knew they would make up sooner than later

Tuesday @secretarybat
Replying to @cactusp6 and @kryptonlovebeam

Wrapped him up in the cape and everything <3 <3

batman is baby!!! @manbat_

Bruceman broken up, superbat just friends…you know what that means :3

Martianbat can still win >:3

wayneman nation @seaweeeeeeds

🥲
Just a minor setback babes. Bruce will trade up for a hotter Metropolitan boyfriend
soon!!

Good Old-Fashioned Garbage Boy @xxdramaturge

Replying to @seaweeeeeeds

placing my bets now that big blue will rescue him again before the year is up

ann unbanned @nonfrictionbook

 let out the world’s longest yeehaw when i saw yesterday’s bowling date pics

insane that they’ve been back together only for a month and they already have
personalized bowling shirts. no one does it like them!!

Ever since Clark and Bruce started to “go steady,” as it were, they’ve begun to see each other
at about the same regularity that they had back when they were first dating. The biggest
change is that now when Superman drops in on Gotham, he’s visiting not just his partner, but
his partner. (Bruce had given him a Look when he pointed this out.)

The first time Clark visits the manor, he’s terrified of making a bad impression. When he’s
met at the door by Bruce’s butler/Mission Control/father figure, he has to fight not to stumble
over his words while introducing himself. Luckily, Alfred seems to find his ingrained
Midwestern politeness charming, and then Clark is too busy being bowled over by Dick
Grayson in the foyer to worry about anything else.

“It’s you!” Dick exclaims as he honest-to-goodness launches himself straight at Clark like
they’re in the field and he wants Clark to springboard him toward an enemy.

“Uh, yep!” Clark answers as he catches Dick by the waist and dissipates their momentum by
rotating them through the air several times until he can gently place Dick back on the ground.
Dick just beams at him, his Robin grin even brighter out of the mask, and Clark naturally has
to smile back. Born and raised in the circus— of course his young friend has such a natural
talent for acrobatics.

“Master Richard, do try not to scare off our guest so quickly,” Alfred chides.

“Oh, right, all the shovel talk stuff comes later,” Dick says, causing Clark’s step to falter for a
second as they walk into the sitting room, but then he’s listening to Dick ramble about how
he’s been waiting for so long for Clark and Bruce to get their act together that he thought he
would die of old age before it happened.

“Wouldn’t we die first?” Clark asks, amused.

Dick flops dramatically onto the couch like a fainting maiden, crying out, “Yeah, and that
would’ve been the most tragic part of all! But luckily it didn’t happen that way. So how’d it
all go down?”

He stares at Clark until he relays the G-rated version of the day they got together, even
though Dick surely already knows the details from Bruce. But talking to Dick is as
comfortable as it always was, now with the added bonus of not having to keep too many
personal identifying details to themselves. Bruce finds them in the room talking about Dick’s
own teammate crush woes, and joins Clark in prodding at Dick with useless old man advice
until Alfred summons them for dinner.
The meal is outstanding, the company lovely, and Clark thinks for a moment as things wind
down that Bruce might invite him to stay over.

They’re both certainly reluctant to part, given the way Bruce keeps finding reason to smooth
down Clark’s coat after he pulls it on, and how Clark’s hand can’t seem to leave the crook of
Bruce’s arm.

“I’m happy you visited tonight. You’re welcome to come over whenever you like — I still
haven’t shown you the cave.”

“I’ll come by again soon to see it. Dick was really excited to show off all your trophies.”

“You could stay a little longer,” Bruce murmurs as he worries at a wrinkle on Clark’s coat
with his fingertips. Clark catches his hand, running a thumb over an old scar that curves
around his wrist.

“And ruin any favorability I might have gained tonight with your family? Better not chance
it.” Clark raises Bruce’s arm to leave a peck on the back of his hand, but Bruce loops his
other arm around Clark’s neck, pulling him forward for a proper kiss. It’s only natural that
Clark’s grip falls to Bruce’s waist, closing any remaining distance. The rest of the world falls
silent around them; Clark doesn’t know how long they stand there before someone pointedly
clears their throat.

“Making out in the doorway? Come on now,” Dick scolds from the main stairwell. He’s
perched on the banister like a gargoyle, leering down at them.

“Isn’t it past your curfew?” Bruce says as he pulls away from Clark.

“What, at…8:49 p.m.? I don’t think so.”

“Well, in any case, you have a paper I know you haven’t finished yet, so hop to it.”

“Ugh,” Dick says, making a face at Clark, who grins.

“Sorry, Robin, duty calls.”

“It always does. Hey.” Dick suddenly brightens, returning Clark’s smile. “You’re a writer.
I’ve got a creative writing assignment — I bet you have a ton of tips since you-”

“Clark is taking his leave now,” Bruce interrupts. “I’m sure I can help you with whatever you
need.”

There’s a moment where Bruce and Dick just stare at one another in silence, before Dick’s
eyes widen and he slides down the banister, landing neatly on the foyer floor.

“Right! Well, you gotta come by again soon. There’s so much stuff I want to show you now
that we can actually hang out in the daytime when we’re not fighting crooks. Together, we
can force B to have fun.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Clark says, waving goodbye as Dick trots off to go attend to his
education. That kind of tacit communication should be something he expects by now, but
seeing it between Bruce and Dick instead of Batman and Robin is new. “Prepare yourself,” he
tells Bruce, leaning in to give him one more kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Dick and I are
gonna tear up the town and drag you kicking and screaming with us if we have to.”

“I have already resigned myself to my fate.” Bruce gives a laborious sigh and lets go of
Clark. “Get home safe.”

As Clark flies off, he sees Dick waving at him from his bedroom window, and the sight
makes him smile. He’s grateful in more ways than one that he finally gets to see this part of
Batman’s life.

Bruce is adorably worried about his first visit to the Kent farm. He brings a massive box of
fancy European chocolates for Ma and what seems to be an absurdly expensive bottle of
scotch for Pa, and proceeds to pace the dirt road up to the farm for several minutes before
getting up the courage to approach the door. Clark knows he’s out there, but decides to let
him enter on his own time, which is good, because by the time he’s in the house, he’s steeled
himself with a hearty dose of Bruce Wayne charm.

Clark is somewhat afraid his parents will find Bruce’s behavior off-putting, unused as they
are to high-society style schmoozing. After hearing about Clark’s relationship drama from the
news, Ma and Pa had coaxed a confession from Clark that he and Bruce really are dating this
time around. They expressed some concern that Clark was being bamboozled by a playboy,
but he assured them that Bruce was not who the papers painted him to be. It helped that Clark
trusted Bruce enough to reveal his biggest secret to him (as far as they knew). Despite their
skepticism, they invited Bruce to dinner, and here they are now, with Bruce sparkling in full
force as he shakes Clark’s parents’ hands.

But his mask melts away quickly, the sincere and strange heart of him shining through as he
helps Ma with some simple kitchen tasks. Clark offers to take over, but Bruce gives him an
affronted look, huddling closer around his mound of potatoes as Clark approaches.

“I’m no shirker. These are my responsibility,” he says, clutching his peeler more tightly.

“You don’t want my help?” Clark asks, sneaking up to reach over Bruce’s shoulder to grab a
potato, his chest pressing up against Bruce’s back.

“No, begone,” Bruce says. He elbows Clark gently away. “This is a good way to prove to
Alfred I’m not as hopeless in the kitchen as he thinks I am. You’re my witnesses.”

“Clark, honey, go set the table instead,” Ma says with a laugh, flicking her kitchen towel at
him.
Clark does as his mother commands, and spends the rest of the time sweeping the porch with
Pa and catching up about the last month. When it comes time for dinner, Bruce sits next to
Clark, fiddling with his silverware until Clark reaches down to lightly squeeze his knee.

“Alright?”

Bruce meets his eyes, a shadow of Batman’s solemn stare in his gaze.

“I will be.”

“Don’t worry,” Clark whispers as his parents emerge from the kitchen with glasses and water.
“We’ll make it out of this one alive. We always do.”

Bruce lets out a soft huff. “You’ll cover my blind spots?”

“If you cover mine.”

“Always.”

Bruce approaches Ma’s pot roast with his usual impeccable table manners, pausing to
compliment the chef. Ma in turn thanks him for his help in the kitchen, and it breaks the ice
for dinner conversation as Bruce tells Clark’s family all about growing up with Alfred. He
gets a whole slew of Clark’s childhood stories in exchange, which he finds delightful.

“You got stuck in a tree? That’s a reversal,” he teases as they’re seated on the couch later, his
hands flipping through one of the many Kent family photo albums.

“I couldn’t fly yet,” Clark defends.

“He was certainly a climber, though,” Pa tells Bruce, who smiles at a picture of Clark on the
barn roof.

“Perhaps you could tell the sky was waiting for you,” Bruce says as he traces Clark’s pudgy
little kid face with a fingertip. The soft affection in his voice doesn’t escape Ma’s attention,
and she reaches over to give Clark’s knee a squeeze. He smiles back in response, and that’s
good enough an answer for her.

Clark walks Bruce back out to his car, but they take the long path, circling around the house
and the barn. He’s the one who reaches for Bruce’s hand first, but Bruce is the one who laces
their fingers together, swinging their arms sedately as they walk. Clark still can’t believe the
joy that such a simple thing can bring. Watching the night air lightly ruffle Bruce’s hair as he
looks up at the stars that aren’t visible in their cities’ light-drenched skies. Feeling Bruce’s
callused hand slotting so perfectly into his own. Hearing Batman’s heartbeat steady and
constant right beside him as he simultaneously feels it thrumming under Bruce’s skin.

“You’re really here,” Clark says as they make their way toward Bruce’s car. “I always
dreamed about this, you know. Bringing Batman home to meet my parents. I was always
hoping that maybe one day we could share these aspects of our lives with each other.”
Bruce decided against revealing his other identity to Ma and Pa this time around, opting to
wait for a little further into their relationship. “If there were any two people in the world I
could trust to keep my secret, it would certainly be your parents,” he said a few days before
his visit. “But it’s a lot to spring on them at a first meeting.”

“Thank you for inviting me into your home,” Bruce says, turning back to find Clark’s eyes.
“It was nice to see the place that helped make you the person that you are today. Your parents
are lovely people; I hope I made a passable impression.”

“You did great. Before you know it, you’ll be wondering why you were ever worried.”

“If all goes smoothly, I’ll tell them my identity next time.”

“Already planning for the next time?” Clark asks, and Bruce gives him an alarmed look.

“If you’re going to break up with me again-”

“No! Definitely not.”

“Good. I’m not sure my ego could handle getting rejected by you for the fifth time.”

“It wasn’t that many…” Clark mutters. “You sure you don’t want me to fly you back?” he
asks when they stop next to Bruce’s car.

“Superman bringing Bruce Wayne’s car to Keystone City would raise some eyebrows.”

“True. Wouldn’t want to get the rumor mill started again right after you and I just got back
together.”

“Besides, I shouldn’t grow too dependent on riding the Superman Express. At least, not this
kind of ride,” Bruce says as he unlocks his car door. There’s something sly about his tone,
even as he remains stone-faced, and when Clark catches his meaning he feels his ears turning
pink.

“Don’t tease me right before you leave!” he complains. Bruce laughs, his mask breaking.

“It’ll give you something to think about while we’re apart. See you in your dreams, Kal.”
Smirking, he gets into his car and drives down the dirt path, away from the Kent farm. Clark
listens to his heart all the way until he crosses the county line. Bruce wasn’t wrong. He
probably will show up in Clark’s dreams tonight, but now Clark can greet the morning with
the exhilarating knowledge that Bruce returning his feelings is no longer just a fantasy.

With the hurdle of meeting each others’ families out of the way, the next problem to tackle is
how to reveal their relationship to their friends and colleagues.
Bruce drops in on the Daily Planet one day to wine and dine Lois and Jimmy, which is about
as mortifying for the both of them as Clark expects, as she grills them for forty-five minutes
about their relationship while Jimmy enjoys the full extent of Bruce’s generosity at the
steakhouse. Clark and Bruce manage to answer Lois to her satisfaction, while keeping her off
the scent of why exactly they already seem to fit each other so well. There’s still a glint to her
eye when they part ways with Bruce, but she gives him a warm handshake as he departs, so
Clark figures he’s safe for another day.

“See, I knew he couldn’t really have been as dumb as he pretends,” Lois says later, hanging
over the partition of Clark’s cubicle. “He never would’ve gotten back together with you if he
was.”

“When you’re right, you’re right,” Clark says, smiling stupidly at the notebook in his hands.

“And how often am I right?”

“Every day,” he replies obediently and she smiles.

“Exactly. Now, your job is just to make sure he drops the facade the next time we catch him
on the way to a presser-”

“I’m not sure even I could do that.”

“It doesn’t hurt to try,” Lois says, before gesturing for Clark to come look at her computer.
“Spell-check this for me, would you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Meanwhile, Superman’s colleagues have a surprising amount to say about the state of his
relationship, despite not knowing who he is outside the cape. The Watchtower construction
has finally begun, with Clark and his other space-ready friends taking on the task of putting
together the pieces of the satellite. They complete the bulk of the work over two days, though
there’s still interior work for contractors to take care of now that the structure has been built.

When he has free time, Clark returns to the Watchtower to offer his help, allowing him the
chance to catch up with some friends he hasn’t seen recently since they haven’t been under
siege by a new conquering force in a while. He’s milling around what will be the conference
room with Flash when Batman and Wonder Woman come walking through.

“Hey, guys! Inspection going well?” Clark says, unable to help the slightly stupid tinge to his
smile when Bruce gives him and Flash a nod and a yes instead of just a grunt.

“We are on our way to see the living quarters,” Wonder Woman informs them. “Batman and I
will return afterwards to debrief about next steps.”

“Perfect, we’ll be here,” Clark answers for himself and Flash.

“Good,” Bruce says before departing with Wonder Woman toward the east corridor.
“Oh, excellent,” Flash says after they leave, relief audible in his voice. “I’m glad it all
worked out.”

“What worked out?”

“You and Batman.”

“You guys got back together? Happy for you,” Green Arrow says, clapping Clark on the
shoulder as he scoots past to get to the water cooler.

“Thanks! Wait, back together?”

“We know you keep it on the down low for security reasons,” Flash whispers. “We got kind
of worried by the eleventh time you broke up, but we always knew you guys would pull
through.” He gives Clark two big thumbs up.

Clark suspects the rest of the League was seeing something between them that they were both
too dense to notice themselves. If they already think the two of them have been dating, there
isn’t exactly a non-embarrassing way to tell them they only recently got together, so Clark
just rolls with it.

“Haha, yep, you know us. Always back together in the end.”

“That’s reassuring. Anyway, like I was saying, you and I should do a few rounds on the track
together once it’s set up.”

“Just give me a time, and I’ll be there!”

When Clark brings it up with Bruce later, back at the manor, Bruce just shakes his head.

“They did always say behind our backs that we fight like a married couple.”

“I didn’t know you were aware of that.”

“Just because I don’t have superhearing…”

“That’s not why,” Clark laughs, shifting so Bruce can lean on his shoulder. He’s staying over
tonight, as he has done a few times now. Save for the fact that Clark lives in Metropolis,
Bruce doesn’t mind coming to his apartment. In fact, he seems to greatly enjoy skulking
around Clark’s hallway in the dark, and burrowing under Clark’s sheets, refusing to greet the
sun until Clark coaxes him out. However, it’s much faster for Clark to travel to Gotham than
the other way around, so he tends to be the one to visit more often.

“Oh?”

“I just thought you were above petty gossip.”

“Why would you think that? You and Wonder Woman and I gossip all the time.”
“I was under the impression that those were strategy meetings.”

“Information is information, Clark. Anyway, I suppose there’s no point in correcting the

misconception. We are back together. And you know what that means.” The hand that was
resting innocently between them comes trailing up Clark’s leg, fingertips walking their way
toward the crease of Clark’s thigh. Clark swallows, blindly reaching out to dim the light.

“I think I do, but you’d better elaborate anyway.”

“It means,” Bruce whispers next to Clark’s ear, “that we might still bicker like a married
couple, but we do everything else like newlyweds.”

And Clark certainly can’t argue with that.

The cardinal rule of being famous is to never Google yourself. Clark knows this, but he does
keep general tabs on Superman’s publicity in order to get ahead of potential issues.
Unfortunately, after going public with Bruce for the second time, he’s in the news much more
often as Clark Kent. He and Bruce are rotating through celebrity news again, but he hopes
that as they remain boring the media will start to lose interest.

The side effect of Clark Kent’s fame is that the Bruce/Clark shippers have increased their
numbers, feeling emboldened by the fact that their ship is real.

There’s a distinction between people who like and support Clark and Bruce as a couple and
people who actively participate in Bruclark fandom. Clark feels it wouldn’t be right to look at
their fanworks, though he does skim comments on news posts and articles about the two of
them. It feels good to know that so many people approve of their relationship, even if it does
mean an increase of rival shippers.

Clark himself is still caught in an odd place regarding Bruceman. He still chats with his
online friends and reblogs posts of interest, but he’s put a pause on his own writing while he
tries to figure out if he can continue creating Bruceman content with a clear conscience.

Now that he knows Bruceman literally can never come true, some of the veil of appeal is
lifted. The ship has less of a chokehold on his life. But…he’s still a fan. It’s irrational,
bordering on idiotic, but it’s hard to let go of everything Bruceman means to him —
friendship, yearning, acceptance, love. And even harder to leave behind the many friends and
connections he’s made as part of the fandom.

It’s a little insane for Clark to write fics about his boyfriend dating himself. But it wouldn’t
be so bad to read them, right? He can just pretend he’s reading about fictional people. As if
they’re characters from a book or movie, instead of his partner (and his partner).
It’s the justification he uses to catch up on the WIPs that have updated since he and Bruce
started dating again, but in the middle of one reading spree, a new thought occurs to him.
Now that he knows what Bruce (and Batman) looks like in the throes of ecstasy, would it
really be so strange to…open his door to the more adult-rated Bruceman content in the
fandom?

After all, they’re dating, and it’s not at all weird to have sexy fantasies about your own
boyfriend (twice over). He’s seen the real thing! Batman porn no longer holds the same
forbidden charm!! This would be totally normal!!!

After triple-checking that there’s no one else in his apartment, Clark furtively clicks on a
friend’s E-rated Bruceman fic (additional tags: voice kink, kidnapping, rescue, friends to
lovers, identity reveal, semi-public sex), lets out the breath he was holding for no reason, and
begins to read.

He gets sucked into the first 7000 words of plot and delicious hurt/comfort and by the time
the smut hits he’s forgotten what this little foray was all about. He’s too engrossed in the
story.

The lights below blur into white noise, as does everything in the world besides the
feeling of Thomas’ hand on his cheek. Bruce doesn’t often see the city from this view,
but for once, Gotham can’t hold his attention. The only thing he can see are those lonely
hazel eyes, gazing at him with such profound warmth. How had Bruce never realized
before tonight?

Who else but Thomas had ever loved him so deeply?

“Let me take you home. You should rest.”

The voice that’s been haunting his dreams for the last two years — the voice that lulled
him to sleep that night at the hotel, the voice that used to whisper to him from the
bottom bunk, the voice that promised him all those years ago they would make a world
where no children would cry — caresses him now, quiet and dulcet. Thomas is always
so gentle with him, considerate to the end. But after tonight, Bruce doesn’t want gentle.
He wants everything.

He pulls Thomas in closer, their bodies almost colliding when Thomas catches himself
against the brick wall behind Bruce’s back.

“Bruce…” he mumbles, his lips hovering just centimeters from Bruce’s own.

“I’ve waited for so long, Tommy. Even another second is too much.”

Clark’s eyes are glued to the screen as they kiss for the first time, their emotions spilling out
in soft gasps and murmured confessions. He can’t look away as Bruce lowers himself to the
ground, his expression sly, his hands exploring new ground. Clark rewrites the image of
blond Thomas Batman in his mind, filling in first his own version of B. And then Bruce’s
hand reaches down into B’s pants, and B bites his lip in anticipation, and even Clark’s
Batman vanishes in favor of another Bruce, hair disheveled from his cowl, a pretty flush
painting his cheeks as the other Bruce undoes the front of Batman’s armored pants.

Bruce smirking up from the ground, his eyelashes fanning coquettishly as his hand wraps
around his lover, pulling a wanton moan from his lips. Bruce biting his own knuckles to
suppress his noises as his eyes slip closed, his hips rocking helplessly forward into that firm
grip. Bruce, his plush lips parting as he guides his partner’s tip into his warm, wet mouth.

Bruce, Batman, Batman, Bruce— Clark’s mind is overrun by a torrent of Bruce in every
compromising position and filthy scenario imaginable. Each word on the screen only adds to
the onslaught of obscenity.

Rao, nope. This is way, way, way too dangerous. Back button, back button. Clark clicks until
his screen is purified, batporn yet again shunted into the darkness whence it came. His heart
is racing. His pants are tight. This was a bad call.

He busies himself with making some late night oatmeal to sanitize his thoughts. He leaves it
completely plain as punishment for his sins. He’d almost rather be eating thumbtacks again.

So Batman smut is still a no go, but for wholly new reasons. Good to know.

He’ll just. Stick to his usual, then. Yes. That should be safe. Great.

As he stirs his oatmeal with contrition, he dithers over his future with Bruceman. It’s starting
to warp his reality. Maybe Clark does need to stop his hobby. Or at least tell Bruce about it.

He imagines Bruce’s reaction to Clark’s twisted and tangled desire for him. He would take
Clark’s intense attraction in stride, but Clark would be in a big pickle trying to explain why
he wants to see Bruce getting down to business with himself. What a mess.

Clark shovels a spoon of oat mush into his mouth and groans. He’ll figure out what to do
about the Bruceman situation another time. As long as he keeps up the barrier between his
fandom and real lives (and stops reading Bruceman porn), he shouldn’t run into any trouble.

Bruceman HQ

#general-chat

scubatuba: can you believe it?? wild!!

Momomomomo: omg thats so cute tho i bet he is totally into you 👀

K: I think Momo is right, that sounds like flirting to me!
scubatuba: oh and you would know!!!!

Momomomomo: 🤭🤭
Tabs: asdljflaa k our resident dr. love here!

K: Haha 😄

K: Sometimes I still can’t believe it worked out! We’ll all be rooting for you too!

Tabs: yeah sweetie you’ve got this <3

scubatuba: I hope so!!

scubatuba: we are TWO FOR TWO in the server on romance so far and I don’t want to fuck
up the score

shadow: he’d be a real chump to turn you down!!

scubatuba: THANKS BABES!! 😘😘 mwah mwah love you guys

shadow: ^.^

Bruceman HQ

#social-media-news

Pretz: bruce seen out with clark again at an escape room ;__;

scubatuba: still going strong huh?? 😒

K: Well, we can rest assured knowing that Batman’s probably the reason why Bruce is into
escape rooms in the first place!

shadow: oh yeah i bet

Tabs: says shadow, known cluck supporter…

shadow: >_<

shadow: my guilty pleasure…sorry u_u

K: Better a Kenayne shipper than a Superbat though, right? 😂

K: Sorry, Shadow, I kid, I kid.

shadow: no you are bullying me!!!

shadow: anyway maybe i just think clark kent is cute u_____u

Wrathful: Oh?

Wrathful: I’m gonna look forward to the shadow/Clark Kent self-insert art then

shadow: don’t tempt me >_<

K: If this is how we find out what you look like…

Me1on: omg shadow doing a face reveal thru his spicy selfship art 😭

shadow: guys at most it would just be me and mr. kent holding hands

shadow: we can go on a double date with bruce and batman ^.^

scubatuba: LMAO shadow homewrecking for the greater good

shadow: doing my part for the bruceman agenda!

Me1on: okay so we’re going with this plan then? sending shadow over to the daily planet to
seduce clark?

Wrathful: Better than my proposal that we start a petition with the US government to break
them up

Me1on: 🤣 i for one think the president would back us up

K: I have my doubts about the effectiveness of any of these plans, personally, but they could
be worth a try 😆

Wrathful: If sexy Shadow and a million change dot org signatures don’t pan out we can
always circle back to Operation Limeade

shadow: omg no not the limes again

K: To be honest, I kind of like Operation Limeade!

scubatuba: lolololol you just like that it inconveniences Lex Luthor

K: Haha, you caught me.

Me1on: anyway enough about non-bruceman stuff, someone come brainstorm with me in the
sprint channel

Tabs: oooooh is this for the mythology AU?? I love that one

K: Agreed! Making Batman a selkie is such an inspired choice!

Me1on: guys stop i’m blushing

@shadowscribble AKA shadow

shadowscribble: k!!

FriendlyFan: Hi Shadow! 😊 What’s up?

shadowscribble: welllll

shadowscribble: i was wondering…

shadowscribble: if you wanted to meet up when i’m in metropolis next week for work!!

Clark’s first emotional response to Shadow’s question is excitement. The thought of meeting
any of his fandom friends in real life always felt like a pipe dream, and he almost leaps at the
chance to finally meet Shadow.

Half a second after processing the request, Clark remembers exactly who he is and
accidentally keysmashes in his attempt to stop himself from saying yes. Luckily, the message
doesn’t send. Double lucky: he doesn’t shatter any keys to fine plastic powder either.

He can’t reveal to Shadow that he’s Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne’s boyfriend. It would be
absurd. Shadow would drag Clark back to Gotham and walk him up to Arkham Asylum
himself. It would also be embarrassing if Shadow really does have a little crush on Clark.
Clark is flattered, but obviously nothing can come of it; he puts it in the same category as
Shadow’s admiration for Superman. Anyway, all those feelings would probably dissolve if
Shadow knew Clark was writing fic about his own partner dating himself.

He’s dithered enough about how to respond that Shadow has sent another DM.

shadowscribble: but if you’re not comfortable with it that’s okay!!

shadowscribble: i don’t want you to feel pressured

shadowscribble: i know it can be a bit much to suddenly meet someone in a new context

Clark wants to reassure Shadow that his only reservations are about himself. FriendlyFan is
the problem. Yet again, his many identities have caused turmoil in his social life. It turns out
that simultaneously walking on three tightropes when you only have two legs is a bit of a
stretch.

He’s caught between the desire to accept Shadow’s invitation and the knowledge that
declining would be the responsible thing to do. His caution almost wins, until he remembers
the obvious solution to his problem.

What he needs to do is go in disguise! It’s the perfect way to avoid any publicity, prevent
Shadow from thinking he’s unhinged, and finally meet his good pal. Excellent.

FriendlyFan: No, I would love to see you!!

FriendlyFan: I just can’t believe it’s really happening, haha.

FriendlyFan: Will you be in Metropolis for a while? What were you thinking of doing?

shadowscribble: i should be free at least one afternoon! we can hangout and maybe grab a
bite to eat?

FriendlyFan: Sounds good to me!

shadowscribble: we could meet at my hotel? there’s a really nice sitting area in the lobby ^.^

FriendlyFan: That works! We can go for a walk or navigate to a cafe together afterwards; I
know some great spots!

shadowscribble: perfect! i’ll be put up at the mandarin oriental, near centennial park

FriendlyFan: Wow, swanky!

🙂
FriendlyFan: Okay, once you know your schedule, let me know, and we’ll figure out the best
time

FriendlyFan: This is so exciting!

shadowscribble: yeah it feels like i’ve been waiting forever for this haha

The anticipation for his meetup has Clark buzzing for the next couple of days. On the day of,
he ducks out of work quickly, to give him time to slip into his disguise before heading over to
see Shadow.

They arranged for Clark to visit Shadow at his hotel mid-afternoon. Shadow will be the one
sitting by the elegant potted fern in the waiting area across from the elevators. Clark will be
the one wearing a striped orange necktie.

He forgoes his glasses to minimize any connection to journalist Clark Kent, pops in some
colored contacts that he keeps on hand for undercover sneaking, and puts on a brunet wig that
he last used while infiltrating a cult with Zatanna and Elongated Man. His posture is less
mousy than Clark’s, but nothing close to Superman’s chest-forward stance. Even without
extensive face makeup or prosthetics he looks different enough from both of his usual
identities that he should be safe.

Arriving at the hotel about fifteen minutes early isn’t entirely intentional, but Clark really
didn’t want to be late. He doesn’t want to seem too eager either, and scare off Shadow, so
instead of hanging around the lobby like a ghoul, he checks out the amenities, from the pool
and the gym to the attached bar and lounge popular among hotel patrons and foodies alike.

He’s coming up on his meeting time, so he returns to the main lobby, but a few steps onto the
plush carpet approaching the waiting area, he notices a familiar face from afar. Bruce, of all
people, is walking over to the couches in the opposite direction, a briefcase in hand. Their
eyes meet and Clark tilts his head in confusion, surprised that Bruce hadn’t told him he’d be
in town. There’s a second or two where Bruce doesn’t recognize Clark in his disguise, and
then Clark sees that familiar wrinkle in his brow as he starts sussing out the solution to a
problem.

Clark can tell Bruce is about to peel back the mystery when a bright crackling flash outside
the hotel catches his eye. It’s accompanied by loud screaming and the smell of ozone in the
air.

It must be Livewire out there. Fantastic.

Clark glances to the windows at the same time that Bruce does, and this time when they look
back at each other, Bruce has figured out it’s Clark beneath the wig and contacts.

The screaming has sent onlookers crowding around the windows, and Bruce and Clark
hurrying toward one another.

“I’ll help the civilians,” Bruce says at the same time that Clark declares, “I’ll get her under
control.”

They exchange an affirming nod and take off in different directions toward the nearest hidden
nook to change. Clark is obviously faster, and he zooms off to find out what Leslie is up to
this time.

As expected, she’s going ballistic again because her latest social media experiment has been
suspended, and now the city is paying the price. She’s already blasted apart two storefronts in
her rampage.

“Leslie, tell me how I can help you,” he calls, trying to reason with her, but his face never
fails to make her angrier.

“You’re looking a little drab, Superman! Let’s give you a spark of inspiration!” she hollers,
sending a jolt his way. He takes it head-on to minimize damage to the environment, ignoring
the sting as he tries to herd her away from the crowd. Down below, he sees Batman hurrying
civilians out of the street, so he pushes on, keeping their fight up in the air. When he gets
close enough, he flings her toward the West River, taking another hard shock in the process,
but his math is right and his aim is true. She shorts out, giving him the time to restrain her
with some rubber cords before she can electrocute him again.
He delivers Leslie to the authorities and helps Batman and the emergency crew clean up the
detritus of the city. Luckily, with the sun out it doesn’t take him too long to recover from the
slight bone-rattling of Livewire’s attacks.

“B, I didn’t know you would be in town today,” Clark says happily when they reunite on a
rooftop afterwards. He would love to give Batman a kiss on the cheek, but he holds himself
back. Even if they hadn’t decided to keep Superman and Batman’s relationship secret, it
wouldn’t do to give the Superbats more ammo.

Batman does clasp his arm with collegial fondness. “I’m- that’s- it was a last minute schedule
change. I was originally going to send Lucius in my place, but I thought it would be best to
come in person. Were you…incognito for a scoop just now?”

“Something like that,” Clark says as the situation catches up with him.

Oh, no. Not only is his meeting with Shadow totally ruined, but Clark has no way of knowing
whether his friend is safe! He needs to check his phone right away, but it feels weird to be
doing so out in broad daylight while standing next to Batman.

“Sorry, on that note, I’ve got to deal with something. Catch up with you later? I’d love to see
you if you’re staying longer.”

“I have some meetings to attend, but I should be free tonight. Let’s meet at your place,”
Batman says. “I’ll keep you in the loop about my schedule.”

“Sounds good. See you then!”

Clark takes off to find a secluded rooftop where he can surreptitiously check his phone
without anyone spying on him. If Shadow is still at his hotel, maybe he can still recoup this.

FriendlyFan: Shadow, are you okay??

FriendlyFan: I’m sorry I didn’t show; Livewire’s attack made a complete mess of traffic!

FriendlyFan: I really hope it didn’t scare you too much!

shadowscribble: i’m okay!!

shadowscribble: i’m sorry too >_<

shadowscribble: when the attack went down my boss freaked out and now i’m stuck in a
strategy meeting about how to get back to gotham

FriendlyFan: Oof, understandable.

FriendlyFan: I was going to see if you still wanted to meet, but I get it if it’s not the best
time.

shadowscribble: i do still want to get together! but maybe we can try it in gotham when
you’re in town!
shadowscribble: our villains usually work on a smaller scale ^.^;;

FriendlyFan: Haha, that’s true. I’ll probably be over for work some time in the next few
weeks!

FriendlyFan: We’ll find a time that works for both of us.

FriendlyFan: Fingers crossed that Gotham’s criminal element stays more dormant in the
daytime 😅

shadowscribble: they will if they know what’s good for them!! -_-

Although saddened by the lost opportunity, Clark can at least take comfort in the fact that
Shadow is safe, and Clark helped keep him that way. And though he can’t see his friend
today, he does have the unexpected boon of seeing his boyfriend, which is such a pleasant
surprise it almost balances out his disappointment.

With this happy thought on his mind, Clark slips away his phone and takes off into the air,
whistling a jaunty tune. He’ll get in some Superman work and then find a fun new place to
bring Bruce for dinner tonight.

As expected, Clark does return to Gotham quite soon. The following week, he’s given an
assignment to report on the city’s housing committee’s plan for the following year, especially
its connection to Wayne Enterprises’ green initiative. The interview on WE’s end isn’t with
Bruce this time, but he invites Clark to come see him when he’s done with his business in
town, which he’s always happy to do. He reached out to Shadow as well, to see if his friend
might be free today, but Shadow hasn’t yet responded.

When Clark arrives, Alfred directs him down to the cave right away.

“Master Bruce wished to speak to you in private, and thought the cave would be a more
appropriate place for your discussion.”

“Sure! Thanks for letting me know. By the way, Alfred, my Ma says your scone recipe was
spectacular; she’d love to talk crusts with you some time.”

“Please tell her it would be my pleasure.”

Alfred smiles at Clark as he departs, but there’s a wrinkle to his brow that Clark usually only
sees when he’s peeved with Bruce with something. Hmm.

Bruce is seated at a small table near his laboratory, a briefcase sitting on the floor beside him.
It’s the same one he was carrying in Metropolis the other day; perhaps he just came back
from a work event. Bruce’s face looks a little tired. Last night it sounded like Gotham had
Batman running all around town, which meant Bruce probably only got a few hours of sleep
at most. Clark can’t smell any blood or antiseptic on him, so he shouldn’t be too hurt, but the
dark spots under his eyes are more noticeable than usual.

“Clark, hello,” Bruce says quickly, jumping to his feet when Clark approaches. That wiggly,
low-sleep energy is infused in his motions.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Clark replies. He gives Bruce a peck on the cheek, puzzled when Bruce
grips his shoulders bracingly. “Everything okay?”

“It’s impossible for everything to be okay-”

“You know what I mean.” Clark rolls his eyes fondly. He puts his hands on Bruce’s shoulders
in return, shaking him gently until he’s willing to talk.

“No one in the household has a life-threatening injury,” Bruce allows as he guides Clark into
the seat across from his. “And no one is cursed.”

“I guess that’s as good of an answer as I’ll get from you at this time, so I’ll leave it be.
What’s with the set-up? Got some case files you want me to take a peek at?”

“Not quite. Clark.” Bruce takes a breath. He looks so serious that Clark is afraid he’s about to
announce Darkseid just moved in next door. Or reveal he has contracted a fatal disease— oh
god, that’s it. Bruce only said he didn’t have a life-threatening injury, but didn’t mention
anything about illness—

“I do not have a life-threatening illness,” Bruce says, clearly reading the distress flashing
across Clark’s face.

“Oh, thank Rao.”

“I simply have a confession to make. We’ve revealed our most important secrets to one
another, but I have one more thing that I’ve been hiding from you. Before I explain myself, I
just want to reiterate that I love, trust and respect you.”

He sounds like he’s reciting a self-help book, but Clark doesn’t doubt his sincerity.

“I love, trust, and respect you too, B. Now please tell me what’s going on before I give you a
full-body scan. I’m starting to think you were lying about the illness thing.”

Bruce ignores him, opting to place his briefcase on the table. He unlatches it with a click,
reaching in to pull out several sheets of paper, which he slides across the table to Clark.

Clark grabs a hold of them, expecting national secrets or a map of security vulnerabilities in
LexCorp or something, but instead he finds he’s holding a printed image.

A drawing. Of Bruce Wayne kissing Batman.

Clark recognizes this art. This is Shadow’s work. Where did Bruce get this? Did he
commission it? Oh god, does Bruce know about Bruceman?? Does he know Clark ships
Bruceman???
He clearly knows about Shadow. And he must know that Shadow is connected to Clark in
some way if he’s showing this to him.

Great stars, Bruce must have tracked down Shadow in his Bruceman crackdown and now
he’s going to use their friendship to confront Clark about his fandom life. A terrible, yet
hauntingly avoidable outcome! Clark really should have quit Bruceman fandom while he had
a chance, ongoing WIPs be damned.

“This, uh. This is an interesting picture you have here,” Clark says, not willing to tip his hand
yet, in case somehow this isn’t an anti-Bruceman intervention.

“Yes. One of my earlier pieces; I don’t think I would go with the same composition now if I
were to redo it. The pose is kind of pedestrian, and I skimped on the background. My later
works are more sophisticated.”

“Huh?” Clark blinks at the paper, and then at Bruce. “...what?”

Bruce points at the pile of paper until Clark flips through the stack. He knows every one of
these pictures, all of them reblogged to his timelines. Page after page of Shadow’s Bruceman
art (and indeed, the style does grow more developed over time, the backgrounds more filled
out and faces more expressive), with Bruce giving running commentary that only barely
filters into Clark’s brain as he tries to make sense of everything.

“No, you- what-” Clark stutters out after Bruce explains why he chose to give Batman cat
ears in one picture. “Bruce- this- why do you have these?”

With a soft sigh, Bruce pushes his briefcase aside so there’s nothing between the two of them.
“I’m Shadow. Shadowscribble. Bruceman fanartist. I…I know about your fandom activities,
Clark. Or should I say K?”

There must be aerosolized kryptonite in the air, because Clark suddenly can’t hear anything.
Or, wait, maybe he’s just not processing anything he hears, because Bruce’s mouth is moving
but Clark’s brain is still circling around the inconceivable string of sounds that just left
Bruce’s mouth.

Shadow? Bruce? FriendlyFan’s beloved mutual? Batman? Is a Bruceman fanartist??

What???

“-a lot to come to terms with, and I’ll answer any questions you have. I didn’t bother printing
out all my pictures because I assumed a few would be evidence enough, but I can show you
the image files if you’d like-”

“Stop,” Clark commands, holding a hand up. “Explain.”

“Okay,” Bruce says, and he does. From the background check to Clark’s Bruceman activity to
the suspicion that Clark might be onto his identity to Bruce’s elaborate and unnecessary
undercover stint as a Bruceman artist because somehow that would ever be a logical way to
figure out if someone was a mole targeting the Justice League.
Clark listens, his blood pressure mystically rising with each word, until he can’t stand to hear
any more. “Let me get this straight.”

“Okay.”

Closing his eyes so he doesn’t blow a gasket and accidentally laser a stalactite off the ceiling
of the cave, Clark runs through a summary of everything he knows about Shadow, and then
recontextualizes all that information through the filter of Shadow actually secretly being
Bruce Fucking Liar Batman Wayne this entire time.

Cheese and crackers, it’s all so demented that he almost can’t believe it to be true, but that’s
exactly why he also knows in his heart it’s absolutely something Bruce would do.

“You’re telling me that you’ve been pretending to be someone else online in order to keep an
eye on me because, what, you had some weird hunch that I was hiding something?”

“Well, you were,” Bruce mutters, and Clark slaps a hand on the table. Not hard enough to
crack, but it does shake under the impact.

“But not what you were thinking! And yet, for some reason you saw fit to continue your
deception! While we’ve been dating!”

“To be fair,” Bruce says, his hands up, “I was chatting with you as Shadow before we started
legitimately seeing each other, and before even our fake relationship, if that makes it any less
strange-”

“That doesn’t negate the fact that you were intentionally catfishing me, Bruce! I know you’ll
do whatever it takes to gather information, but this is a little far, don’t you think? I mean,
drawing fanart of you and yourself- naked, even! This is just-”

It’s a betrayal, is what it is. Shadow was one of his best friends in the fandom, and now it
turns out that he’s been Bruce this entire time?! It stings to know that their entire friendship
was built on a lie conjured up for Bruce to snoop on Clark. Was anything between K and
Shadow ever real, or was Bruce just playing a part? And the fact that Bruce continued
upholding the charade even after he and Clark shared their other secrets — what was he
hoping to gain? Why did he keep up this sick lie for so long?

“Bruce, this- I’m not going to lie, it really hurts to know that you’ve been doing this,” Clark
says, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. “Pretending to be my friend? Lying to me in
every online conversation we’ve had, violating my privacy — because you didn’t just
stumble upon these accounts by accident — and intentionally inserting yourself into my
community to continue spying on me?”

Bruce coughs, folding his hands together, his eyes downcast. “I acknowledge the duplicitous
nature of my actions, and I understand why you’re angry that I’ve been…cultivating an
online friendship with you for ulterior motives.”

“You think?” Clark snaps. “This is really messed up, Bruce!”

“But,” Bruce says, stressing the word. “In my defense, I was only investigating because I
discovered that someone I know in a professional capacity was writing unsanctioned pieces
about my private life. I think that deserves some investigation, don’t you?” He looks up to
stare steadily at Clark, daring him to object.

Clark supposes he makes a fair point. It isn’t like he doesn’t know how paranoid Batman is.
The second Bruce discovered Clark’s fandom accounts, he probably jumped straight to
thinking it was some kind of evil plot. Still, to go to such elaborate lengths to spy on Clark?
They were talking online for months! They did a fanwork exchange!!

“...alright, yes, I admit that it’s a little…unorthodox for a reporter to be…blogging…about

someone that they interview on a regular basis. But that doesn’t excuse you going out of your
way to deceive me!”

“Blogging- Kal, you were writing fanfiction about your best friend falling in love with
himself — you do not have the moral high ground here!”

Bruce reaches into the briefcase and pulls out a veritable ream of paper that he tosses onto the
table between them, the sheets sliding haphazardly across the surface. It only takes a quick
glance for Clark to realize that he’s looking at his own fics, in undeniable, physical form.
Smoking gun evidence if he’s ever seen it.

“I- okay,” Clark says, holding up a finger. Shit. “Hm. I see that I may have dug myself into a
bit of a hole.”

“Yes, FriendlyFan, I think you have.” Bruce reaches over and begins flipping pages rapidly.
“Bruce Wayne and Tom Batman go on a romantic getaway to Paris, where Batman shows off
his safecracking skills to stop a jewel thief? Bruce Wayne is kidnapped by rogue
extraterrestrial bandits and Batman uses his knowledge in their unarmed dueling traditions to
rescue him? Batman and Bruce are stranded in the Canadian wilderness and Tom Batman’s
survival training allows him to keep them alive?”

It might be a slight sign of fandom brainrot that Clark’s gut instinct is to insist he doesn’t
favor one half of his ship so blatantly. He’s written plenty of stories where Bruce impresses
Batman with his expertise in cheesemaking traditions and Baroque music, or Bruce’s love of
extreme sports has pulled through for a last minute save. Batman might have started off as his
favorite, but he loves both parts of his ship!!

He manages not to blurt all this out, hopefully preserving some of Bruce’s respect for him.

“Every single one of these stories includes some fact about me that only an ally or one of my
more obsessed enemies would know — or an extremely thorough and technologically savvy
fan, I suppose. And not just me, but also information about other members of the League!”

Clark coughs. “Okay, but I have to point out that for every tidbit of actual info I revealed, I
sprinkled in just as many plausible but untrue details.”

“That fact that any actual facts were revealed at all is cause for alarm! I wouldn’t care what
you do in your private time if your hobby didn’t involve giving total strangers secret
information about me! About us! Your colleagues and friends!”

“It wasn’t classified information,” Clark hedges, and Bruce throws his hands up in the air.

“The fucking Watchtower, Clark? The Justice League project that no one has any business
knowing about yet?”

“It was only a matter of time before people pieced together the WE aerospace expenditures
with the mysterious satellite going up into space!”

“You didn’t have to help them figure it out!”

“Oh, come on, like Bruceman enthusiasts are going to plot to infiltrate the League with
information gleaned from fanfiction-”

“Threats can grow from the smallest of seeds in the strangest of places! I can’t just discount
people as a potential risk just because you like their fanart!”

“Your fanart, lest we forget what you’ve been up to! I can’t believe you went so far as to
invent another persona just so you could draw pictures of you making out with yourself!”

“Oh, like it’s any better to write stories about two men with whom you have a professional
relationship fucking each other!”

“You know I’ve never written anything above a T rating!”

“Congratulations, the one line you managed not to cross!”

“That’s hilarious, coming from you. Is there any part of my life you haven’t pried into at this
point?”

“Is there any part of my life that you haven’t revealed to random people around the world?!
You’re a walking security leak!”

“You are a paranoid cyberstalker!”

“Of course I am, I’m Batman, that’s what I do! Which you are absolutely aware of, given the
plot of ‘The Key and the Cage!’”

Clark surges to his feet, feeling cornered by this devious attack. “Do not use my own fic
against me!”

“Why not? They’re about me, aren’t they?” Bruce sneers, waving at the disheveled pile of
paper lying between them. “Shouldn’t I be allowed to read about my own little exploits
where I romance myself?”

“No, because you should have the good sense not to search up stories about yourself that you
are fully aware to be false!”
“Well, you should have had the good sense not to write fucking fanfiction about your
friends!!”

“Alright, fine, you’ve got me there! I should have known better. But at no point did I
intentionally mislead you about the nature of our online relationship the way you misled me.”

Clark runs through an abbreviated review of all the long conversations he had with Shadow,
now focusing on the real life details instead of their fandom discussions. Clark might have
been purposefully vague about his life, but he never tried to misrepresent who he was to any
of his friends, and especially not to Shadow. Some of their conversations had been intensely
personal, discussing life and their jobs and their relationships…

“Oh my god, you knew,” Clark realizes. “You knew that I was talking about you when K
mentioned his personal life! You let me sweat it out for three days knowing how I felt about
you, playing the role of a supportive friend the entire fucking time! What the fuck, Bruce?!”

Bruce crosses his arms, metaphorical porcupine quills jutting out in every direction. “I was
evaluating the best course of action! How the hell was I supposed to begin a relationship with
you when you were so completely entrenched in the delusion that I was in love with myself
that you might, at any point, throw away our chance to be together?”

“Well, if you’d told me your stupid identity, we could’ve avoided all that!”

“Just as well as if you’d told me yours!”

“I guess there’s a good reason neither of us told each other anything!”

“Apparently!”

By this point, they’ve been yelling loud enough that they can probably be heard up in the
manor. Thank goodness Dick is at school, because he certainly didn’t need to be hearing this
fight.

And that’s what it is: a fight.

He should be the bigger man and try to talk through the problem, but he just can’t bring
himself to do it. Clark feels like he’s been ambushed, tricked into an argument when all he
wanted to do was come see his partner. If he stays any longer, it’s only going to get worse.
Right now, what they need is space.

His voice is strained when he speaks. “This isn’t going anywhere. Let’s. Let’s go clear our
heads and then regroup to continue our discussion.”

“Fine,” Bruce says, standing sharply. His face is set in a blank expression, but Clark
recognizes the angry clench of his jaw. He’s seen it enough times in the field. “You know
where to find me.” He stalks off without another word, and Clark flies away through one of
the exit tunnels, desperate to get to fresh air and sunshine.

He bursts out somewhere in the woods on the outskirts of the extensive Wayne Manor
property, and continues his ascent, cutting through the mist draped over the city. He has no
destination in mind, he just needs to fly until he no longer feels like he’s trapped in his own
spiraling emotions. As a teen, he used to do the same thing, taking laps around the fields
whenever he was angry until the fury had burned out of him. The embrace of the wind, the
world blurring into watercolors below him, the sun on his back — it’s a surefire way to bring
him some much-needed calm.

Clark gets all the way to Montana before his head clears enough to think about what just
happened.

Fuck, that definitely wasn’t his best moment just now. Nor was it Bruce’s.

It’s been a while since they’ve blown up at each other like this, but it’s always been about
something bigger than just themselves. This time it’s so much more personal, each accusation
a direct attack on their own mistakes and poor judgment. This isn’t about the fate of the
world or the protection of mankind. This is just Clark and Bruce and a string of bad decisions
tripping them up because they never dealt with it sooner.

But it isn’t the worst fight they’ve ever had. Nor is it the most important.

Clark still doesn’t feel great about the fact that Bruce constructed an entire fake friendship to
keep tabs on him. But Bruce probably doesn’t feel great about knowing that his best friend
has been writing fantasies about his love life for other people’s entertainment. All in all, they
rightfully found one another in the middle of a dumpster fire of their own creation.

As much as he would like to continue wallowing to spare any further injury to his feelings,
there’s no getting through this without talking about it. Taking a few deep breaths, Clark
gives himself one more minute to look at the snow capped mountains across the pristine pane
of lake below him. The world really is so breathtaking. He should take Bruce on more flights
so they can enjoy the natural beauty of Earth under less dangerous circumstances.

With that hopeful wish for the future, Clark does a lazy spin in midair and flies back the way
he came. Bruce’s heartbeat tells Clark that Bruce should be where he left him, but Clark stays
high and out of sight anyway, only lowering his altitude when he reaches the trees around
Bruce’s home.

Bruce is standing on the manor lawn, glowering at a worm wiggling its way through the
mulch around a shrub. Clark watches as he takes the tip of his shoe and petulantly kicks a
small divot in the lawn, before glancing furtively around for Alfred to chastise him. When no
one appears, Bruce crouches down and tries to press the loose clump of earth back into place.
The action is silly enough that it makes Clark chuckle, drawing Bruce’s attention to him
hovering in the tree line.

“...Superman,” Bruce says evenly, his hands still patting the grass back down. “How kind of
you to visit.”

“I was told that I could come over at any time. I hope that still holds true.”

“It does,” Bruce says. Clark descends as Bruce brushes the dirt off his shoes, and then they’re
awkwardly looking at each other, standing around the weird hole Bruce made. Bruce clears
his throat. “It’s only been nine minutes.”

“I know, but I didn’t want to be mad at you anymore. We spend enough time doing that after
catastrophic mission debriefs. I just want to talk it out so we can figure out how to move on
from this and just get back to being us.”

Bruce’s posture relaxes ever so slightly, the stern line of his mouth softening. “Me too. I- I’ve
made some mistakes. More than a few, really. But I’m not the only one.”

“Yeah, you’re not. I wish I had an explanation that doesn’t make me sound like an idiot, but.
To be honest, I don’t think I do.” Clark makes a helpless gesture and Bruce takes one hand,
tugging him back toward the manor.

“We both have some explaining to do. Let’s do it somewhere more comfortable this time.”

Alfred gives them an approving nod when they re-enter the manor. Bruce brings Clark to
their usual parlor, where they sit on the loveseat beside each other. The tension from the cave
has now made its way up here, but Bruce surprises him by lacing Clark’s fingers with his
own, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

The gesture is enough to have Clark jumping over the hurdle of awkwardness to speak.

“I’m really sorry I violated your privacy. And the unspoken decorum of not writing fiction
about you. And that I profited from selling those fantasies to other people. And
unintentionally fanonized some true details about your life.”

“And I’m sorry I catfished you,” Bruce responds. “And tricked my way into your fandom
space to spy on you. And drew fanart for you under false pretenses. And then kept pretending
for longer than I had to. I did want to reveal myself to you sooner, but there never seemed to
be a good opportunity.”

“I guess it isn’t really a topic that can be brought up naturally, but thank you for the apology.
Are we…?”

“Of course. World’s Finest to the end, right?” He looks hopefully into Clark’s eyes.

“Definitely,” Clark says, relieved. “I told you I didn’t really have a great explanation for my
actions, but if I’m being honest it wasn’t completely out of pure shipping intentions that I
started. Originally, I just wanted a way to get rich quick, but before I knew it Bruceman had
consumed my life.”

“You thought taking fanfiction commissions would be a lucrative side hustle?” Bruce asks,
his amusement incredulous.

“It might not have been my best plan. But I did earn enough to buy myself some new shirts.
So, uh, thanks for obliquely contributing to that. And sorry again for thinking about you
kissing yourself so much.”

“I’m not that upset about you shipping Bruceman,” Bruce says. He folds his knees so that his
legs are tucked up on the loveseat, turning so he can put his other hand on Clark’s leg. “It was
mostly very, very confusing. I do feel guilty about infiltrating your space under the guise of a
fanartist to figure out what you were up to, but on my end, I was investigating why a man
who knew me seemed to suddenly get sucked into Bruceman. It was suspicious.”

“B, not everything is an elaborate ploy to undermine the stability of Gotham. Some people
just…have fantasies about the love of their life finding happiness with a wonderful man who
will appreciate him and decide to express them through the written word.”

A wry smile settles on Bruce’s lips. “I don’t think this is applicable to anyone in the world
but you.”

“The world is vast,” Clark argues. “You don’t know what might be happening out there.
You’re not the one with super-hearing.”

“If you say so. I did have fun with you and the Bruceman community, even if it was odd to be
a part of it.”

“Well, that’s good, at least,” Clark says, before thinking about this a little more. “Oh lord,
you read my fics.” It’s only just hitting him now exactly what it means for Shadow to have
been Bruce this whole time. The comments. The DMs. The fanart.

“I did. They were quite good. My compliments as Shadow were all sincere. As was my desire
for friendship.”

“There were much easier ways to connect, considering we knew each other in real life,
Bruce.”

“Yes, but-” Bruce cuts himself off, looking shifty.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Out with it,” Clark insists, mostly because he sees the tips of Bruce’s ears turning red, and
he would love to know why.

“The only reason why I was looking up Clark Kent’s socials in the first place…” Bruce grits
out with much effort. “…was because he was starting to…interest me. And that was a
liability.”

He mutters the middle part quickly and quietly, but Clark hears it loud and clear.

“You were cyberstalking me to find a reason why you shouldn’t like me? Aw, that’s sweet, in
a very Batman way.”

“It didn’t work.” Bruce sounds disgruntled.

“I grew on you didn’t I? You really liked every version of me, huh?” Clark teases, and the
flush in Bruce’s ears spreads to his face.
“Hypocritical coming from the man who regretted dumping both Batman and Bruce Wayne.”

“I was going through a lot of emotional turmoil last year. It didn’t help that I couldn’t tell
what you were really thinking- wait.” The remaining implications of Shadow = Bruce have
finally occurred to him. Shadow’s turn to the dark side now makes sense. “Shadow- you drew
Superbat art. You…you were trying to sway me. You were intentionally exposing me to
pictures of us together! Trying to wear me down!”

“...maybe,” Bruce says, looking away to glower at the curtains. “You were being opaque
about your affections, and I was hoping I could gauge your reactions as an apparent third
party.”

The image of Bruce sitting in his cave, very seriously sketching a picture of Clark kissing
him as part of his strange elaborate plan to extract information causes Clark to laugh.

“And you asked if I had a crush on Bruce Wayne! Really?”

“I was curious,” Bruce mumbles. “You told Shadow all sorts of things you never told
Batman. Or Bruce.”

Clark lifts Bruce’s hand to leave a kiss on his wrist. The flush has found its way down to
Bruce’s neck. “Stop talking about yourself in the third person three times over.”

“Sorry. We…actually discussed you, you know. Or, rather, Shadow and K discussed
Shadow’s relationship with Clark Kent.”

“What?” Clark furrows his brow, shuffling through his memories of all his conversations
with Shadow until he recalls what Bruce might be referring to. “Oh my god. How many times
did you talk to me about me to my face?”

“Fewer times than we talked about me making out with myself,” Bruce counters.

“Okay, that’s fair. Our DMs were pretty busy even after you started intentionally terrorizing
me. In the end, you must have figured out how I felt about you, right? You read my Superbat
fic, after all.”

“Yes, it was enlightening. I was ready to take the leap when you showed up as Clark and sent
me topsy-turvy again. But it all worked out.”

“It did,” Clark agrees. And thank goodness for that. “By the way, I cannot believe you
originally planned to have this conversation in a hotel lobby.”

“I couldn’t just invite you straight to my hotel room. And you shouldn’t accept if I had. What
if I were a murderer?”

“I’m notoriously difficult to murder.”

“The seemingly endless supply of random kryptonite deposits around the world says
otherwise. Anyway, public places are the most appropriate for first time introductions. Once
you knew my identity, then I could spirit you to my room for any ensuing argument.”
“While I follow the train of thought, it’s still insane.”

Bruce gives him Batman’s usual flat look of disagreement. “I was also hoping the positive
associations you hold between our relationship and hotel rooms would work in my favor.”

“Another insane thought; I love that you think about these things. It’s great that you’re such a
planner.”

The word “love” softens Bruce’s prickly posture, causing him to lean into Clark’s shoulder.
Clark wraps an arm around him, pleased that Bruce curls up against him like an overgrown
cat.

“Always looking on the bright side, aren’t you, Boy Scout?”

“Someone’s gotta do it, since you’re busy with the contingencies. I know you’ll pick up my
slack if I need you to.”

“Mm.” Bruce burrows a little closer, eyes getting droopy. He was tired already, and their
argument sapped them both of energy. His exhaustion must be setting in, now that they’ve
talked things through. He always sleeps better when his mind is at ease (or as close as it ever
can be), and he particularly likes sleeping on Clark, who certainly doesn’t mind.

“Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up,” Clark says, feeling satisfied when Bruce rests his
hand on Clark’s stomach and closes his eyes. He listens to the sound of Bruce’s heart, steady
and familiar, drumming against him until it also lulls him to sleep.

After their reunion nap, Clark tasks himself with helping Bruce clean up his study, which is
overrun with paperwork that Bruce brought with him from the office. Clark burns up the
pages meant to be destroyed with a controlled burst of heat vision while Bruce boxes up the
rest. They’ve sorted about two thirds of the paper, pausing to rest and hydrate.

Clark is looking at the award Dick won for outstanding community-building work in his
school, hung on the wall next to Bruce’s diploma, when Bruce speaks up.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said about trying to make some cash on the side. Is the
Planet not paying you enough?”

“Better than many jobs, I’m sure, but the costs of living just have a way of catching up with
you, y’know?” He pauses when he remembers what building he’s standing in. “Oh. Maybe
you don’t.”

“Not firsthand, no. Superman business doesn’t help matters, does it?”

“Nope.”

Bruce is more than aware of what kind of collateral damage their criminals can wreak,
especially since WE funds a very sizable chunk of city repairs resulting from supervillainy.
Clark can repair a fair amount of damage himself, but he’s lost plenty a hat and briefcase to
city-wide terror. And his clothes, good god. It feels like every two weeks another piece of his
wardrobe is sacrificed.

“Not to mention the checks you send home.”

“How did you- right. Cyberstalking.”

“It’s a lot of expenses. Let me fix that for you.”

“I don’t need you to buy me, Bruce. Or to lend me money.”

Bruce shakes his head. “I understand, but the least I could do is set up systems to support you
and other heroes in similarly vulnerable positions due to our line of work. A fund for
replacing things that get broken or clothing that gets destroyed. I’m one of the lucky few who
doesn’t have to worry about crime fighting affecting my finances. I want to be able to give
that reassurance to my friends as well. Starting with you, if you’ll allow it.”

“I…could be convinced to accept a replacement shirt or two.” Bruce’s gifts being

incomprehensibly lavish is something that Clark has started to train himself to get used to,
but he doesn’t want Bruce to just constantly throw money at him for all his own problems.
However, a heroic damages fund is something that would be useful for a lot of their
colleagues, and if Clark can help get it off the ground by showing the others that he uses it
too, then he can accept it.

“Good. We’ll find some way to send the funds without compromising anyone’s identity. I’ll
bring it up at the next meeting — say that Wayne Enterprises is proposing the fund as its
newest philanthropy project.”

“That wouldn’t be suspicious? Tying it so close to your civilian identity?”

“It wouldn’t be the first gift I’ve given Batman and the Justice League,” Bruce says, clearly
smirking to himself as he begins sorting documents again.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

“Sorry, Clark, you have to admit it’s a little bit funny.”

“Sure, but you’ve crushed my dreams of a Bruceman wedding.” Clark comes to hug Bruce
from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder. He’s so solid and warm. They should do this in
uniform sometime at the Hall. Give the Leaguers something to gossip about.

“Unfortunately, Bruce has his eyes on someone else.”

“So does Shadowscribble. I heard that he thinks Clark Kent is cute. How about that?”

Clark can feel Bruce’s laugh vibrating against his chest. “Shadow does in fact have a little
crush on Clark. But he realized that a piece of Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne fanart would be a
bizarre and confusing way to reveal his identity, so he withheld.”
“That was probably a good choice, but I can’t say I’m not a little disappointed. I wanted to
see our double date!”

“You could always write it yourself. I don’t mind, you know. If you want to remain a
Bruceman fan.”

“…really?”

Bruce shrugs in Clark’s hold. “I don’t understand it, but it makes you happy, so why not? As
long as it doesn’t interfere with our relationship. And you stop using real details.”

His vitals say he’s telling the truth. This is a much more lenient ruling than Clark expected,
so he would be a fool to turn down Bruce’s offer.

“No more security leaks, I promise. Cross my heart.”

“Good. Now, hand me a binder clip. I still have three more stacks to get through.”

“I’ll have to stop you from taking so much work home in the future. Being a living
incinerator gets boring after a while.”

“I did say you could use the industrial shredder.”

Now that their bit of fandom interpersonal drama has been settled, Clark has a somewhat
baffled okay from Bruce to continue his Bruceman activities. Bruce, on the other hand, wants
to retire from his fanartist life.

“I hate to say this, but I’m simply not as invested as you are,” Bruce chuckles when Clark
expresses his dismay.

“It’s just such a waste of your talent…”

“I have other ways to put my artistic skills to use. Aquaman asked me to update the interior
design of his Watchtower quarters. I think he may have just been joking, but I thought I’d
sketch something up anyway.”

“That’s nice of you,” Clark says, smiling up at Bruce, who’s doing his best to read the
Gazette around Clark’s head resting on his lap. They’re taking a lazy Sunday in today. Dick
stuck around long enough to eat breakfast with them before taking off for something that may
or may not be a date.

“Everyone always gives me a weird look when I tell them how nice you are. I think they
might be deeply unobservant,” Clark continues.

“I’m only nice to you.”

“Liar! You’re also nice to Wonder Woman, Flash, and Martian Manhunter.”

“Hng,” Bruce says, which means he’s lost the argument but won’t admit it. He rustles his
paper before changing the subject. “In any case, I need to extricate myself from Bruceman
fandom once I finish the last few pieces I was working on. I was thinking I could fake my
death-”

“No, Bruce, that’s completely unhinged,” Clark stresses. “And it would traumatize our
friends.”

“Hm. You’re right. I could get into a new fandom? Video games are all the rage these days.
Or sports? Like hockey. Or one of those anime shows Dick likes. I do have some pre-existing
knowledge about Sailor Moon…”

Clark smiles at the thought of Bruce making Dick teach him about anime and decides to save
poor Robin from this fate. “You could also just gradually fade your online presence.
Sometimes life just catches up to you, right?”

“That might be easier. Gives me reason to still check in once in a while. That reminds me. I
hope Zahra brought up those headaches with her doctor,” Bruce says, frowning as he pulls
out his phone. “Those symptoms weren’t normal.”

With great affection, Clark takes the Gazette from his hands so Bruce can send an emoji
laden message to the Bruceman chat.

Since he has Bruce’s approval, Clark assumed that his fandom life would return to normal,
but between catching up on his own projects and hungrily eating up the art and stories that he
shelved while emotionally compromised and trawling through yet another round of the
endless Superbat vs. Bruceman fistfight, now with the upstart contender Wayent entering the
ring as well, he’s more exhausted by his hobby than rejuvenated.

“Put your phone down. The update can wait until tomorrow,” Bruce orders when he sees
Clark helplessly scrolling through his draft again.

“You’re right. It just doesn’t have the right oomph yet. Maybe I need more inspiration…”

“No. Every time you’ve logged into your personal social media in the last two days, you’ve
started scowling three minutes in. As your mother would say: quit it or your face will get
stuck that way.”

“It’s because of all these rabble-rousing Bruceman haters! I’m saying it now, Bruce. No
matter what happens in our future, Batman and Superman can never go public with their
relationship. I refuse to let the Superbats win,” Clark says, gripping Bruce by the shoulders
when he comes over to try and snatch Clark’s phone away.

“But Superbat did win,” Bruce replies, his brows drawing together in confusion.
“Yes, fine, but we’re never going to give them the satisfaction of knowing that! Besides, like
you’ve said before, it would make it easier to piece together our identities if we’re dating
both in and outside the capes.”

“Nice excuse. Your dedication to Bruceman continues to be both admirable and disturbing.”

“You just can’t comprehend the heart of a shipper!” Clark accuses. “Despite playing the part
well, in the end you never truly understood.”

“I didn’t need to understand to draw art of me kissing myself. Anyway, perhaps you’ve got
writers’ block because you’ve exhausted your ideas for Bruceman. You could redirect your
attention to Brurk instead. Clace? What the hell are they calling us these days?”

Clark sighs. “It just wouldn’t be the same. Clark/Bruce is fine and all, but you can’t so easily
replace an OTP.”

Bruce narrows his eyes, his mouth pursed in judgment. “Clark. Are you telling me you’re less
invested in our relationship than the fake one you made up in your head between myself and
my alter ego?”

“No! Of course not. You know I adore every version of you. I- it’s just- Bruceman was…”

Despite his multiple careers as a writer, Clark doesn’t have the words to describe it.
Bruceman was just everything, for a long time. More than a silly diversion, more than a
perfect romance, more than a community — it was all of that mish-mashed into one
beautiful, hopeful dream. Also, it was just a lot of fun.

“It was an escape. I would probably be lying if I said I wasn’t using it in part as a way to
make peace with my own feelings for you, but at some point it just became much more.
Bruceman was my ideal image of love, you know? And even though I know it was all fiction,
because it was all fiction it’s still very dear to me as, I dunno, a love story?”

Bruce rolls his eyes, but Clark can see the fondness on his face. “I’ll take your word for it.
You won’t trick me into making more fanart though.”

“You’re missing out. Speaking of Clark/Bruce — now that you’re phasing yourself out of
fandom, you haven’t heard the latest theory that Clark Kent is Batman and that the two ships
are one and the same.”

Alarm overtakes Bruce. “You’re saying people think you might be Batman??”

“It’s a fringe theory, but a few people have suggested it.”

Funnily enough, the thought seems to have crossed Bruce’s mind at least once. Clark has
seen Bruce’s doodle of himself dressed in the Batsuit (and secretly engraved the image in his
brain for very normal reasons). Although that’s really a picture of Superman as Batman, and
no one has yet been wild enough to posit that Superman and Batman are the same person.

“Why would Batman be from Metropolis?” Bruce says, his voice filled with disgust. Ah, so
that’s his concern. Even now, his unfaltering disdain for Clark’s city is kind of funny.
 “Well, technically, Batman would be from Smallville, Kansas…”

“It makes no sense. Batman cannot be anything other than a Gothamite, born and bred.”

“You can go plead your case online, but I bet you’ll just convince them to double down. Just
let Farmer Batman run its course,” Clark advises, grinning when Bruce scowls. “Anyway,
Clarbruce is fine. I haven’t muted it yet. But I will never, ever read a Superbat fic.”

“Never? But they have such good ideas.”

Striking while Clark’s grip on his phone is loose, Bruce slips it from his hand, letting it drop
down into the couch cushions, while his other hand grabs hold of Clark’s tie. The glint in his
eye is devious.

“Do they?” Clark’s voice has gone slightly hoarse, as it often does when Bruce looks at him
like this. “I find that hard to believe.”

His tie comes undone, the silk spilling into Bruce’s hand.

“You just have to know how to search. For example, some have noticed Batman’s tendency
to wind up restrained,” Bruce says. With deft fingers, he secures the necktie around both his
wrists, using his teeth to pull the knot tight. It shouldn’t be as attractive as it is, but it instantly
brings Clark to attention.

“It is a fairly common predicament for you,” Clark says breathlessly as Bruce loops his
bound arms around Clark’s neck.

“Luckily, his partner Superman can always be counted on to save the day…or perhaps to
capitalize on the situation…”

Clark can take a hint. He lifts Bruce into his arms, getting into his Superman register to ask,
“Oh, B, tied up again? Always getting into trouble — what am I to do with you?”

“Stop gloating, Kal, and help me out of these restraints,” Bruce — Batman — growls,
sending a wave of shivers right down Clark’s spine.

“I don’t know, it seems like I first need to teach you a little lesson about waiting for
backup…”

Clark’s phone lies forgotten between the cushions as they float off toward the stairs.

Bruceman can wait for another day. Clark will allow Superbat to win this round, just this
once.

Chapter End Notes

Secret Ending, click to view :]

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