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“I hate him.”
Clark jumped slightly as his best friend flopped down into the seat across from him during break, looking exhausted and angry, red splotches covering his face. Clark grimaced as Bruce scratched at a particularly large mark on his neck, he knew that tone. He turned to his side to share a look with Diana who looked faintly amused.
“What did he do this time?” she asked, her tone neutral and calm, bless her.
“He,” Bruce hissed again, “pulled the curtains open at six – six! – in the morning –“
“Wait. He was in our room?” Clark paled, feeling more than a bit uneasy.
“He’s been throwing pencils at me all morning, he keeps on standing in the doorways and denying me access?” Bruce’s voice lilted up here, like he himself was not sure whether this happened, “ and he dumped garlic powder on me in the hall way – a whole ice cream tub full of garlic powder!” Bruce scratched vigorously at his arm to emphasis his point.
“Did you take anything?” Clark asked, gesturing at Bruce in general.
Bruce nodded, sniffling and looking miserable. “It hasn’t kicked in yet....I’m going to skip the rest of the day.... just came to tell you guys...heading to the library. See you later....” Bruce got up and trudged off, back slightly hunched as he sniffled into his arm and scratched at the back of his neck.
Clark sighed, “ Poor B...”
Diana huffed, “The pigtail pulling has gone on a bit too long.”
“What?”
“...forget it.”
Bruce sighed for the hundredth time that day, dodging behind trees and keeping to the shade to avoid direct contact with Metropolis’ sunlight – God this city was too bright, making his way towards the quiet sanctuary of the libr– bloody fucking hell. How the fuck did that bastard know!?
Jack – the fucking bastard – was standing at the doors of the library, legs and hands spread wide as if to stop anyone from entering it, green hair as wild as ever, red lips curled in a smug smile that Bruce wanted to put his hands on, to feel the lipstick smudge under his fingers, the chapped lips brushing against his hand... – when he punched his face of course. Right. Because Bruce hated the smiling bastard. And the only reason he wanted to touch him was so that he could inflict bodily harm on his smooth, perfect skin. Right.
“YOU SHALL NOT ENTER FOUL BEAST,” bellowed Jack, “FOR I – Jesus darnnit Brucie!” Jack cried as Bruce pushed past him with a growl. Jack huffed, crossing his arms and tapping his foot, “Guess it doesn’t work for public buildings, hah.” Rolling his neck on his shoulders, he followed Bruce inside with another huff.
Bruce was seething.
Couldn’t he have one day where that fucker’s pretty – SHITTY! HE MEANT SHITTY! face wasn’t around! One day where he could relax without getting hit in the face with a pie. One day! That’s all he was asking for. Bruce rubbed once more at a splotch, the scratching had reduced. He could hear Jack stomping in after him and Bruce leaned his head against the bookshelf in front of him with a groan. One day! Might as well face Jack’s unique brand of madness before he got testy at being ignored.
“What do you want.” Bruce mumbled into the shelf.
“I want,” Jack replied with a clap of his hands, “to win a bet with Harley.”
“...a bet?”
“Yup. Yup. Yupsi. To prove that you are a vampire!” Jack said, sounding mighty pleased with himself.
Bruce choked.
“A what!?” he asked through tears, as he tried to fight for air.
“A vampire.” Jack said, the roll of his eyes visible in his tone, as if this was all completely normal.
“A vampire.” Bruce said after he had finally gotten control of his breathing and it no longer looked like he would die in the near future. Bruce turned to lean his back against the bookshelf. “A vampire.”
“A vampire.” Jack repeated with great confidence, hopping up to sit on the table across from Bruce.
“Why would you even – “
“Well all the evidence is there.”
“The evidence!?”
“The evidence.”
“What evidence!?” Bruce hissed, feeling more and more out of his depth with each word that passed his lips.
“Weeeeeellll,” Jack said, licking his lips and swinging his legs, “ you don’t like sunlight, - “
“That’s because I was raised in Gotham – like you – with the bare minimum of sunlight! Gotham is literally shrouded from the sun by a permanent cloud of pollution! Our sun looks red all year round for fuck’s sake! Even you avoid the sunlight here! Every single Gothamite avoids the sun in Metropolis!” Bruce said, flinging his hands up and shrugging his shoulders, this whole conversation was too surreal for him.
“ – you’re nocturnal," Jack continues, not missing a beat. "You work better during the night than you do during the morning, -“
“That’s just the way I am....and how would you even know that!?”
“- you don’t like garlic, -“
“I’m allergic, you asshole.”
“I once saw a bat fly through your window,-“
“It was being attacked by an owl! It was trying to get to safety.”
“ – you like going into caves,”
“- spelunking is fun and how would you even know that!? I do it during the holidays!”
“ – you live in a big, spooky mansion that's filled with ancient valuables, with your British butler, that’s surrounded by a forest, in the outskirts of the city, -“
“...because we are rich.”
“ – your family has been around since the founding of the city, -“
“...because we were a founding family.”
“ – you keep ensnaring and adding new people to your family, -“
“Orphans! Without a home! I have money and space so why wouldn’t we try to help!”
“ – you have a secret room in your mansion that leads to a giant cave system underneath it, -“
“WHY WOULD YOU EVEN KNOW THIS!”
“ – you are from a city called Gotham, - “
“SO ARE YOU!”
“- your skin’s really pale, -“
“Yours is paler.”
“ – your canines are really sharp, -“
“Yours are sharper.”
“ – you hiss and growl a lot, “
“No, I don’t.” Growled Bruce.
Jack stopped. Stopped blinking. Stopped counting off items on his hand. Stopped kicking his legs. Stopped breathing. The only thing that moved was the slight twitch of his lips as he fought a smile.
Bruce felt himself flush. “Fuck off,” he hissed. God damnnit.
“ – sometimes you glitter, -“
“That’s because I volunteer with kids and that’s not even a vampire trait.”
“ – you always wear black, -“
“I like the colour.”
“ – you know lots of weird useless facts, like what an aglet is - “
“I like to read.”
“ – you like standing on roofs in the middle of the night, - “
“It’s nice.”
“ – you’re really silent when you walk and can just flow into a room, “
“I’m light on my feet.”
“ – you have a really high pain threshold, you still tried to play basketball after Dorrance broke your leg, -“
“We needed the win!”
“- you always try to avoid using doors, you just climb through the windows, -“
“That’s just! It’s – a-a personality quirk!”
“ – you have the perfect poker face, -“
“....it’s useful when you are supposed to head a company...”
“ – you have a double life. You hate social interaction but you go to – to these parties anyway and smile wide and fake it and become a completely different person and everyone just believes you, -“
“I - ...it’s what’s expected of me, Jack.”
“ – you have all these – these girls draping themselves all over you, - “
“...are you jealou- “
“ – your eyes are so blue. It’s ah it’s almost like they glow! Pulling you in. Hypnotic like a vampire’s. And your hair is so black, it doesn’t even turn brown when it catches the light, it looks so nice, like uh – if I ran my fingers through it it’d be soft...and umm ah! - you’re so big and strong! A-and pretty and perfect and your skin looks so smooth, and your voice is so dark and! rich. You're smart, really smart, good at almost everything you do. And you are so charismatic, and nice and helpful, even to people who don’t deserve it, there’s no way, Brucie darling, that you are a real human being...,” Jack’s voice had gone soft at the end, his cheeks flushed as he looked at his shoes and fiddled with his fingers.
Bruce felt himself flush, the red creeping on to his face no longer from any allergies.
“And you make me feel – feel so odd. You make my heart beat faster and my tummy roll and you make me jumpy and itchy – like I needta get outta my skin – you make all the blood rush to my face, and you make me wanna follow you. Ta get ta know you. Ta always be with you. And – and that has to be signs of something supernatural! Right?”
Bruce looked at Jack as he cautiously raised his head to stare back at Bruce. Bruce looked at his wide green eyes – the light that seemed to always dance within them, his green hair that stuck out messily and seemed to curl at just the ends – how would it be like to curl his hands in it, his stupid pointy nose that looked like it had been broken a few times, his long neck and mismatched clothes, the way his fingers twisted together and the way he chewed on his lip. God, what would it be like if Bruce just leaned forward and –
“And! If I staked you in the heart with a wooden stake and cut your head off you’d die! So see! Vampire!”
Right.
Bruce growled.
Turning away Bruce marched off, mumbling angrily to himself.
“Brucie! Brucie where are you going!? Brucie! Am I right!?” Jack wrinkled his nose in confusion.
Jeez that guy was weird.