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Bruce was awakened by his usual — a nightmare. Or was it considered a memory since it actually happened?
Doomsday was something he did not need any repeated performances from. What happened during that night shook him more than he cared to admit and he knew it was no one's fault but his. He should have listened. He should have researched more. He should have been reasonable. He should have –
“What?” Clark asked with a mixture of amusement and worry in his eyes. He was currently filling his glass with orange juice, which Bruce wasn't aware his refrigerator had. “Is there something on my face?”
Bruce knew he was staring intently at Clark from his seat at the kitchen island, with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, but he couldn't help it. Clark was right there in front of him. In his lake house with him. In the land of the living like him. It hadn't fully sunk in his mind yet that Clark was back... And that Clark decided to be with him.
“Yes,” Bruce answered with his usual gruffy voice. Clark looked worried for a second, but then Bruce's lips curled up as he teasingly said, “Beauty.”
The scowl on Clark's face was funny enough that Bruce huffed. It was the nearest thing to a laugh for him at six in the morning with less than three hours of sleep and half a cup of coffee.
“Well aren't you smooth, Mr. Playboy?” Clark said with sarcasm dripping heavily in his tone.
Bruce missed this, even though he never had it before — never had Clark this way or any way other than an enemy for more than a year and an ally for less than an hour. He didn't know what he did to have this, but he took it like the selfish bastard he had always been.
After 20 years of training to stay disciplined and maintain self-control, he had given it up for Clark. Or maybe he had given in to Clark. Whichever it was, he couldn't make himself regret it.
“Ex-playboy,” Bruce corrected, sporting that same smirk he flashed to Clark during their initial meeting at Luthor's gala, but with a glaring difference. Back then, he was looking at the Daily Planet reporter with malice and wariness, but now there was an overflowing amount of softness and warmth in his eyes that anyone could see. No one would ever doubt Bruce's feelings after witnessing such expression, especially not Clark with his more than perfect vision. “But what can I say? You bring it out of me, Daily Planet.”
The smirk that mirrored back to Bruce made his heart skip a beat and he knew it was heard when the said smirk grew wider. Clark put his glass down on the marbled counter and sauntered his way to Bruce's space until they were inches apart. Bruce was still sitting while Clark hovered a little, the latter wrapping his arms on the ex-playboy's shoulders, powerful fingers gently stroking Bruce's nape.
Clark kissed his cheek. “I bring a lot of things out of you, B.”
That was true, proven and tested, in and out of their private places, but it wasn't likely for Bruce to admit it. That would be out of his character, although being with Clark had brought him out of his element more often than not, which left him on his toes, improvising every moment. Sometimes he felt like a fish out of the water, but it was thrilling and a good way to train and enhance his on the spot planning skills. Bruce wouldn't have it any other way.
No one could stun him and prove him otherwise like Clark often did. That alone said a lot about Clark's power over him, yet he knew Clark would never misuse it and break his trust.
Bruce unconsciously licked his lips as he looked back at Clark, getting his attention with the not-so-innocent action. He hummed in agreement, but did nothing more than that. He let Clark set the pace like he usually did, relishing every moment of Clark making the first move.
And when Clark's lips touched his, it was chaste, as if they were sharing a kiss for the first time. The novelty of kissing each other hadn't worn off yet and Bruce believed it would never.
Pulling away, Clark asked, “You good?” referring to Bruce's unpleasant way of waking up earlier.
Bruce's nightmares weren't real, but Clark was very much so —
(and he thanked all the gods, deities, and omniscient beings in the universe for that even if he wasn't a believer of any)
— and that fact was more than enough for him to go on with his life, which was looking and getting better than he, or anyone else, had ever expected.
As he felt Clark's arms, its gentleness and warmth surrounding him despite the power it exuded, Bruce knew he was safe. With a smile, he wrapped his arms around Clark's waist and kissed him again.
“I'm better now.”