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Gotham was quiet. Silent as Bruce ran home, juggling his heart in his hands. The unsteady sound of his breath filled his ears and his limbs felt heavy but he couldn't seem to stop. He just needed to get out, get home.
"You know you love it. Love the attention. I'd know just how to treat you right."
He took a cab to Wayne Manor, maybe because he would feel guilty calling Alfred. He tipped the cab driver way more than intended and stumbled out of the back of the car. It was dark outside now, and the world was asleep.
"Your so-called boyfriend doesn't have to know. It'll be our secret..."
Or supposedly.
Gotham was never really alseep, and from here Bruce could see the twinkling glow of the city lights that looked like phantoms trapped between buildings. The cold air blew through his coat and he wrapped it tighter around himself as he pushed the door to Wayne Manor opened. It creaked with age and he shucked off his coat and boots, throwing them aside as he practically ran up the stairs. He turned several corridors until he finally reached their bedroom.
Bruce pushed the door open and nearly gasped at what he saw.
His beloved, his boyfriend, was asleep in their bed, his lips slightly parted as the moon draped him in beautiful blue light. He glowed like a star, so perfect, so so perfect.
Bruce felt equal love and guilt for the one who slept so soundly.
Clark was so perfect, so wonderful. How did someone as ugly as Bruce manage to ensnare him, to trap him. He felt like every time he touched him, he was defiling his beauty with all of his ugliness and darkness.
Bruce couldn't resist him, that's why. Even though every kiss felt stolen, every look and every moment he felt like an imposter, he couldn't help himself.
Bruce walked over to the side of the bed that Clark was sleeping in and sat down, kissing his forehead. He could already feel his husband stirring as he kissed his nose and then his lips.
Clark was awake enough to kiss him when their lips met and Clark smiled softly. "Hello, darling. How was the business meeting? Didja close it?"
Bruce felt a flicker of guilt stir up inside him and so he just kissed Clark again instead of answering. He shifted onto the bed so he was straddling Clark as he kissed him more fiercely, more passionately. Bruce, while still kissing Clark, worked off his suit jacket and let it fall to the floor.
"It's only been a few hours, Bruce, not an eternity," Clark teased while still kissing him back.
Bruce was working off his shirt now. He wanted this so bad, needed this so bad. His mind burned with guilt. He just wanted to snap something in half.
"Bruce...hey slow down...what's going on? Sweetheart?" Clark asked, but Bruce was insistent, kissed him harder, opening his pajamas up. "Bruce!"
He froze in place, looking up to meet his boyfriend's gaze. Where he was expecting anger, he only saw concern and worry.
"This...this isn't like you. Is there...is there something wrong? Are you okay?"
Bruce hadn't realized he'd started shaking and his eyes fell to the floor. He couldn't even look at Clark anymore, the guilt was gnawing at him alive.
He felt warm fingers ease his chin up to look back into Clark's eyes. Clark sat up, pulling Bruce close to him and wrapping his arms around him. He tried to squirm and get away, but Clark held him securely. The touch was so pleasant, the contact was so welcome, and yet his heart ached.
"Whatever it is, tell me and we'll deal with it together. I'm always here for you, Bruce."
And then Bruce told him.
Told him about this business dinner that went terribly wrong and the kiss that he shoved away and yet it still sucked and he felt so guilty...this was the end, wasn't it?
The whole time, Clark just listened, and nodded along, and when Bruce was finished, his head hung in shame, Clark pulled him close.
He held him tight and told him it was going to be okay, that this wasn't his fault, that no they weren't breaking up, that yes, Clark loved him no matter what.
Clark knew exactly what to say and Bruce felt himself melting into his boyfriend's comforting touch, wishing he could just forget this whole night. He clenched the fabric of Clark's pajamas and buried his face into his neck, trying to block out the guilt.
Clark eased his thoughts with sweet nothings, reassurances, and soft kisses to his forehead.
Some time later, they were tangled up together under the blankets and Bruce was asleep, his hair spilling onto the white pillow as he closed his eyes peacefully. Clark continued to rub soothing circles across his side, but in the dark of the night, under the light of the moon, he made a vow to find the man who dared mess with Bruce Wayne.