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When Jonathan Kent got off the train in the Metropolis station, Clark was waiting for him. This vacation couldn’t have come at a better time. Jonathan knew Clark had been more stressed and spread thinner than usual of late, so spending a relaxing weekend with his dad would be just the ticket.
And Jonathan had been looking forward to spending Father’s Day with his son for weeks.
“Pa!” Clark called, smiling, as he made his way over to Jonathan.
“Hello, son,” Jonathan replied, allowing himself to be pulled into a hug. “Oh, it’s good to see you.”
Clark released him but kept his hand on his father’s shoulder. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, Pa.” He took the overnight bag Jonathan carried and sighed. “I’m glad you could make it.”
“Of course,” Jonathan replied. “Where else would I be?”
Clark smiled and started for the door, Jonathan behind him. “I was thinking we could drop your things off at my place and then go out and grab something to eat. How does that sound?”
“Sounds fine,” Jonathan agreed with a nod. “Are you alright, son? You seem a little…”
Clark turned back to his father and gave a smile and nod. “Of course.” If it was meant to be reassuring, it wasn’t particularly. Jonathan had known that boy his entire life and he knew when Clark was keeping something from him.
An hour and a half later, they were sitting in Clark’s favorite diner, enough food in front of them to feed a few more people than just the two of them. Clark had just swallowed a mouthful of pot roast when he looked up and pointed to Jonathan with his fork. “So the game isn’t until seven tomorrow evening,” he began. “What do you want to do before that? Whatever you want.”
Jonathan tapped his fingers on the table. “Really, son, the game is enough.” He couldn’t imagine what tickets to the big Metropolis Monarchs-Gotham Knights baseball game must have cost his son… and they were good seats, too. Home Plate Club, they called them.
“So you just want to sit around all day and wait for the game to start?” Clark scoffed. “Pa, it’s our big weekend. Let’s do something fun!”
Jonathan smiled, but shook his head. “You’re doing enough. We can just sleep in and spend the day at your apartment. Though no more food after this… I’ll be full for a week.”
Clark grinned. “Ma’d never forgive me if that was true. But no really… we can do whatever you want tomorrow. I don’t want you to worry about anything.”
“But Clark,” Jonathan went on, tone slightly hushed. “I don’t need some big to-do because it’s Father’s Day. I appreciate it, but I can’t imagine what you must have spent on those tickets for that ball game, and…”
Clark interrupted him here. “You really shouldn’t worry about that. I actually couldn’t get tickets myself… so a friend of mine called in a couple of favors and got them for me. They were a… uh… gift.”
“A gift?” Jonathan asked, surprised. What kind of friend gave such exorbitant presents?
“Yeah,” Clark shrugged. “Bruce got them. I did tell him it was too much and it wasn’t necessary, but he wanted to do something nice for us.”
“Bruce,” Jonathan repeated, nodding once. It was actually more difficult to get used to his son associating with famous wealthy people than it had been to get used to seeing him flying around in tights and a cape and saving numerous lives, but Jonathan would wager that was just a product of living the life he had… meager in comparison to what Clark was now experiencing.
Clark nodded again. “Yeah. I offered to repay him but he wouldn’t hear of it.” He shrugged again, clearly trying to look casual. “He can be like that. But I hope you don’t mind… I mean, is that weird for you?”
“Of course not,” Jonathan replied easily. “I’m grateful to your friend. Thank him for me next time you speak to him.”
“Sure thing,” Clark replied, shoving a big mouth full of chicken fried steak into his mouth.
After the meal, Clark took Jonathan back to his apartment, and the evening passed easily amidst bad movies and good conversation. Jonathan got caught up on the goings on at the Planet office and Superman’s adventures, and Clark heard every piece of interesting information (and gossip) to come out of Smallville over the past few months. Jonathan was pleased to see that his son seemed relaxed and happy now. That was his main hope for the weekend.
By the time they were in their pajamas and tired, Clark, who had sworn he never wanted to eat again, was ready for dessert. Jonathan was sitting on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table, when Clark called, “I’ve got ice cream – some double chocolate and a pint of caramel swirl – as well as some Oreos we could crumble on top. How does that sound?”
“It’s fi—” Jonathan cut himself off when he saw Clark standing in front of him offering him a bowl of ice cream. “Thank you, son.”
Clark settled beside his father, legs crossed and feet tucked underneath him and began to eat his ice cream.
Jonathan eyed his son and wondered what it was, exactly, that was bothering him. The brief feeling of relief had passed because Jonathan realized he may have been too quick to judge. Clark could smile and laugh and put on a brave face, but he wasn’t a good enough actor to cover everything. He still seemed slightly off. On a hunch, Jonathan sat back and ate a spoonful of ice cream before casually asking, “So… how is your love life these days?”
Clark went perfectly still, all but his now furrowed eyebrows. “My love life? Why would you ask about that?”
“Just like to know what’s going on in your life,” Jonathan replied, shrugging. He glanced over to the side table and noticed a framed photo of Clark with Lois Lane. “Are you still seeing…?” He tilted his head in the direction of the picture.
Clark took a spoonful of ice cream and shook his head. “No. We, uhh… well, if you want to be honest, it was all on me.”
Jonathan laughed once, gently, and said, “Well, I assumed as much.” Giving his boy a smile and a playful nudge with his arm, he asked, “So what happened?”
Clark sighed. “Well… I don’t know. I mean, I suppose I do know, but I don’t really know how to explain it. Things were fine, better than fine, actually… but I just didn’t…” He set his bowl down and scrubbed at his face for a moment.
Jonathan frowned, hating to see his son upset, but he let him gather his words.
“I didn’t love her like I was supposed to,” Clark finally settled on. “I loved her, honestly. I still do, matter of fact. But… I didn’t really… it wasn’t the way it should be, in a relationship.”
“Well, there isn’t any one way it ‘should be,’” Jonathan reassured. “I know you and Lois had a tough road getting to where you could trust one another, but if you love one another, that’s all you need. That and a willingness to put in the hard work to keep your relationship going. And I know you’re not shy about hard work.”
Clark shook his head. “Pa, I don’t think you understand what I’m struggling to say here. I… Lois and I wouldn’t have worked because she’s… and I’m…” He reached for his ice cream again and stirred his spoon around idly for what seemed like hours but couldn’t have been longer than twenty seconds.
“I don’t want a girlfriend,” Clark finally announced, his voice quiet but resolute. “I… there’s not going to be any more girlfriends.” He stared down into his bowl at the ice cream that was beginning to melt, both from sitting out and being stirred and from Clark’s natural body heat. “I think… well, no. I don’t think. I’m pretty sure now. I’m more attracted… to men.” He kept staring at the bowl like he dare not look up.
Jonathan gulped and nodded his head. He knew that it was important that he say the right thing now, because it had to be incredibly difficult for Clark to say what he just had. But he didn’t quite know what the right thing to say would be, so he kept quiet.
Clark eventually looked up and bit his lower lip. “Is that… I mean, are you… disappointed or anything?”
That made Jonathan sit up higher and furrow his own brows. “Son, of course not! You know I love you no matter what. Your ma and I both love you… and we’ll always support you and accept you. And you’ve never disappointed us. You don’t worry a bit about that.”
Clark nodded and sighed, seemingly relieved. “Okay. Good.”
Jonathan patted his son’s knee. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Thanks for asking,” Clark replied, smiling.
They were both quiet for some time, eating their softened ice cream, and the only sounds to be heard were the city noises below them and their spoons clinking against their bowls. When they were done, Clark took the dishes into the kitchen and Jonathan followed behind him.
“Son?” he asked. “Is there a special fella? Is that what you’ve had stuck in your craw?”
Clark laughed. “Not the best choice of words there, considering the subject matter.” Setting the bowls in the sink, he turned around and said, “No. I’m not seeing anyone. Not even close.”
Jonathan smiled. “Then there’s a fella you’d like to be seeing?”
“Pa!” Clark exclaimed, blushing slightly. Even as big and grown as he was, when he blushed, he still looked like a kid.
“Alright, alright,” Jonathan conceded, laughing. “I’ll let you alone.”
Clark nodded. “And I promise I’ll let you know as soon as there’s something you need to know.”
Jonathan smiled. “Sounds like a deal!”
&&&
In the morning, Clark and Jonathan both slept in. When they did wake up, Clark rolled off of the couch (where he had bunked down the night before) and into the kitchen to make some breakfast. After they had eaten their omelets, Clark presented his father with a slim box.
Jonathan began. “Oh, son, you didn’t need to get me a gift…”
“Of course I did, Pa,” Clark replied with a smile. “Happy Father’s Day.”
Jonathan undid the blue striped ribbon on the box and found a tie inside. It was lemon yellow with red and orange sunbursts all over it. “Tacky” would be the kindest word he could use to describe this tie. But it was a gift from his son, so…
“Well,” Jonathan began, forcing a smile. “Thank you! This is…”
Clark laughed. “It’s okay, Pa. I know it’s ugly.”
“Oh, no,” Jonathan protested weakly. “It’s…”
“It’s supposed to be ugly,” Clark finished for him. “You remember when I was little and I’d give you ties every year? They were all almost as hideous as this. It’s a gag gift.”
Jonathan laughed. “Well, I wore your hideous ties then, and I’ll wear this one now.”
They decided then that they would pass the time before the game at Centennial Park. Centennial Park was an all day trip in itself. It was huge and there was a lot to see, so Jonathan figured they’d have no difficulty finding entertainment.
The park was crowded with families, most of them parents with small children. Jonathan thought it was entertaining just to watch the faces of the kids as they ran and played and toddled up to the edge of the water and watched the fish.
He was just about to make that observation out loud when he looked over to his son and saw him staring off into the distance, a small smile beginning to spread on his face.
“What are you smiling at?” Jonathan asked.
Clark bit his bottom lip and looked away. “Oh… was I smiling?”
Jonathan didn’t respond but watched as Clark’s face grew brighter than he’d seen it all weekend… or in some time, for that matter. Clark stood up and took a few steps away from the bench they had been sitting on and seemed to be waiting for something.
Eventually Jonathan saw two men and a young boy come into view, and as they got closer, he saw Clark take a deep breath. When they got close enough, he recognized the younger man as Clark’s friend Bruce Wayne.
Bruce and the boy seemingly noticed Clark at the same time because Bruce stopped dead in his tracks, also seeming to have to remind himself how to breathe, right as the boy broke away and ran to Clark.
Clark hugged the boy as a lopsided smile grew on Bruce’s face. He and the older man caught up to Clark and the boy as Jonathan stood up and joined them.
“What are you guys doing in Metropolis?” Clark was asking. And then, acknowledging his father, he said, “Pa, you remember my friend Bruce, right?”
“Of course,” Jonathan replied, offering the man his hand. “Good to see you again.”
Bruce nodded politely and shook his hand. “Nice to see you as well, sir.” Then, he cleared his throat and cautiously ventured, “Happy Father’s Day. And, might I add, nice tie.”
Jonathan nodded his thanks to the first remark and grinned at the second. “A gift from my boy here.”
“Yes, I can tell,” Bruce replied.
Clark gave Bruce an amused eye roll but motioned to the older man with him. “This is Alfred Pennyworth, Pa. Alfred, this is my father, Jonathan Kent.” Jonathan and Alfred shook hands as well.
“Alfred practically raised me,” Bruce announced. His tone carried fondness as well as sadness, and both were to be expected, from what little Jonathan knew about Bruce.
“And this,” Clark began, indicating the child, “is Dick Grayson.” The boy smiled and waved.
Jonathan smiled. “Nice to meet you, son.” Smiling at the group assembled around his son, he went on, “You know, I’ve heard so much about you all I feel like I know you.”
“We all feel the same way about you,” Bruce replied. Then, looking back to Clark, he said, “And to answer your earlier question, we’re here because Alfred is going on a cruise. It’s leaving from the harbor on Hobb’s in a couple of hours. We thought we’d all spend the morning here together.”
Clark nodded. “So… of all the parks in this city, you chose this one.”
“As did you,” Bruce replied easily.
“It’s two blocks from my apartment,” Clark laughed.
Bruce raised an eyebrow and gave a smile that could probably accurately be called a smirk. “And it’s one block from our hotel.”
Alfred cleared his throat, causing Clark and Bruce both to look at him.
“Well, anyways, a cruise is a nice Father’s Day present,” Clark said, smiling. “Are you excited?”
Alfred gave a nod. “Yes, sir, I am. I always enjoy my time away from the noise and dirt of the city.”
“He means he needs an occasional break from us,” Dick piped, grinning.
Clark smiled down at the boy. “And who could blame him?”
“You see, Dick, there’s a lesson for you,” Bruce began. “A prime example of the phrase, ‘With friends like this, who needs enemies?’”
“Oh, c’mon,” Clark replied, smiling. “Surely you know I kid.”
“As do I,” Bruce returned.
Clark laughed once. “Occasionally.”
“Occasionally,” Bruce repeated, nodding.
Before anyone had a chance to say anything more on that subject, a man wheeled a snow cone cart down the lane nearest them and Dick’s eyes lit up. “Hey, Bruce… can I go get one?”
“Do you still have your allowance?” Bruce asked. “Or did you spend it?”
Dick reached into his pocket. “I… uh…”
Clark sighed and reached into his own pocket and handed the boy a couple of bills. “On me,” he said, smiling.
“Thanks, Clark!” Dick replied with a grin. Then, with a pointed glance at Bruce, he said, “You’re the best.”
When the boy was out of earshot, Bruce sighed. “Clark.”
“It’s two dollars,” Clark reasoned.
“And I’m trying to teach him the value of a dollar,” Bruce replied seriously.
Clark laughed once. “Oh, a perfect lesson to learn from you!”
Bruce quirked a brow and began to say something else, but then looking between Alfred and Jonathan quickly, he simply asked, “Would you two mind excusing us momentarily?”
Before either older man could respond, Clark said, “Maybe I mind.” But Bruce was already grabbing him by the elbow. The two walked quite a ways off from the older men, well out of earshot, so Jonathan had to just wonder what they were discussing. Any semblance of annoyance quickly melted off of Bruce’s face and was replaced by a playful expression.
They stood close together and seemed to talk easily as they inhabited the same space. And even from that distance Jonathan could see Clark’s eyes were soft as they looked at Bruce. Or as they gazed at him, more like.
Bruce was a nice boy. Or at least he seemed to be. From just this short conversation Jonathan could already tell that in private he was quite different than the image he projected publicly. And it was plain to see that Clark was quite taken with this version of Bruce.
And then Jonathan noticed Bruce accidentally bump his arm into Clark’s on purpose. He would be surprised if the feelings weren’t mutual.
When Clark had said he wasn’t seeing anyone and Jonathan assumed there was someone he was interested in, he hadn’t even considered Bruce. But now that he saw them together, it was as plain as the nose on a person’s face. He didn’t know what was keeping them apart… stubbornness, most likely… but he hoped that they would be able to make it work. If anyone could be good enough for Clark in Jonathan’s eyes, he could easily see it being Bruce.
With a smile and a shake of his head, he looked at Alfred. “Do you see what I see?”
Alfred laughed once, very lightly. “Sir, I’ve been seeing it since your son first started coming to visit the Manor.”
Just then, Dick returned with his bright red snow cone. “Seeing what?”
“Something that is none of your concern, young man,” Alfred admonished lightly.
Dick shrugged and took a bite of his snow cone while the two older men fell silent. The boy seemed to be thinking. He waited some time before jerking his head in Bruce and Clark’s direction and asking, “Do you suppose they’ll ever get married?”
“Master Richard!” Alfred exclaimed.
But Jonathan just laughed. “Well, Alfred and I were just supposing and hoping that someday they will.”
Dick smiled and nodded. “Good. I want them to.”
Jonathan shook his head but grinned. “Out of the mouths of babes.”
“Indeed,” Alfred agreed.
Jonathan noticed that Clark was now blushing. He didn’t stop to wonder how much of that conversation Clark had overheard. It wasn’t enough to really embarrass him, because he didn’t stop acting that way he had been. Or maybe it was just enough to encourage him to keep it up.
Jonathan hoped it was the latter.