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“So.”
“So?” Bruce raised an eyebrow but didn’t move more than that. He was still sitting at the computer.
You’re not gonna make me say it, Clark thought stubbornly. He tried to school his features into less of a frown and into something resembling innocent curiosity.
“You had a talk with Tim?” He asked in what he hoped came across as a light voice.
“Ah. You heard.”
Clark nearly rolled his eyes at his dry tone. Of course Bruce knew he’d been the one to talk Tim into telling Bruce in the first place. Nothing was ever really a secret with the dark knight.
“I did,” Clark said carefully.
“And?”
“And?” You’re bi. And you didn’t tell me. Even though at this point you must realize how I feel about you. “I wanted to see how you’re doing.”
“I’m fine.” And was that a hint of annoyance in Bruce’s eyes? Clark wasn’t sure what to do with that and he found himself blurting out words just to say something to keep the conversation going.
“Well, it’s a big thing to wrap your head around -”
“Why do you assume I would need time to wrap my head around it?” And then he moved, but only to cross his arms over his chest. Uh oh, not a good sign.
“It’s - Tim’s your kid, of course it would be -”
“So you think I’m some kind of homophobe?”
“What? No!”
“Then why would I have a hard time with him being bi?”
“Because -” Clark swallowed. “Because you might not be comfortable talking about these kind of things.” And when did he put his entire foot in his mouth? This was not what he came here to say.
“’These kind of things’?” Bruce finally stood from his chair, but only to start pacing. “What does that mean?” His frown was deepening and Clark desperately wanted to steer the conversation back to what he actually wanted to talk about. Them.
“Feelings, Bruce,” he said slowly. “It might be hard for you to talk about your son’s romantic feelings.” Bruce opened his mouth but Clark continued. “Not because he’s bi but because he’s your son.”
Bruce’s mouth snapped shut but he didn’t look any less annoyed. No, not annoyed. Anxious, Clark realized belatedly.
“I’m trying to do better,” Bruce said quietly and Clark’s heart broke a little inside his chest. He knew Bruce was doing his absolute best with all his children, but it hadn’t always been easy for the dark knight.
“You’re doing a great job, you know that, B,” Clark said softly as he took a few steps closer. He wanted to pull the other man into a hug but he knew it wouldn’t be welcomed when he was feeling this vulnerable.
“Not great enough if I don’t know my own kids - or they don’t know me.”
“They do, you do,” Clark rushed to reassure. “You know everything about everyone.” He couldn’t help but tease. It had the wanted effect; the corner of Bruce’s mouth tugged up in one of his rare half-smiles.
“Not everyone,” Bruce said, locking their eyes together for just a moment too long to be coincidental. He ran a hand through his hair and it was only then that Clark realized he wasn’t in the batsuit. He was in loose fitting pants and a t-shirt and Clark couldn’t help but stare at the piece of skin that peeked out over his waistband as he raised his arm.
“What?” Clark squeaked, tearing his eyes away. He swallowed thickly and got his voice under control before he tried again. “You mean me? You know everything there is to know about me.”
“Everything?” Bruce asked, hand on his hip.
“Sure, you’re Batman. Batman knows everything about everybody.”
“You know it’s not like that,” Bruce said quietly.
“Do I?”
“You know how I -- Who I am.”
“And you know who I am,” Clark responded, doing his utmost best to ignore the slip in Bruce’s words.
“Do I?” Bruce echoed his words back at him, albeit in a completely different tone and suddenly the cave felt smaller and more suffocating.
“It seems like we’re going in circles,” Clark said with a shaky laugh. He came here with a plan, what happened to the plan? This was why Bruce usually was the one to plan things, it wasn’t Clark’s strong suit. He always ended up doing - or saying - something to ruin everything.
“It would seem so.”
Another beat of silence and Clark nearly broke. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t just blurt it out. Even with Tim’s blessing (if you could call the kids betting on their father’s lovelife a blessing) he wasn’t sure Bruce would say yes to him, or anyone for that matter. He was a stubborn man, what with the ‘dark and brooding protector of Gotham’ thing he was so obsessed with. Then again, he’d also been obsessed with working alone and now he - mostly - voluntarily asked for help once in a while.
Luckily - unluckily? - for Clark, Bruce may be stubborn, but he was also not known for beating around the bush.
“You ready to say whatever it is you came here for?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest again. A small, but clear barrier.
“What?” Clark asked, once again distracted by Bruce’s arms. When had they come this close to each other? Clark could reach out a hand and touch Bruce if he wanted to. He dutifully kept his hands at his sides.
“There’s clearly something on your mind.”
“Right, yes,” Clark muttered. There was no way around this, Bruce wasn’t going to open the door himself. “You’re bi.” And that was not what he’d thought about saying. He’d meant to be more discreet, more delicate. But of course his mind had been too muddled to keep track of his damn mouth.
“I am,” Bruce agreed easily.
“Good, good, that’s -” Clark babbled. “Good.”
“Why?”
“Huh?”
“Why is it ‘good’?” And if Clark had been anyone else the question would’ve sounded genuine. But Clark wasn’t anyone else and he saw directly through Bruce’s fake curiosity. There was that certain tilt of his lips, the sparkle in his eyes, the way he cocked out a hip as he watched Clark.
Oh, that bastard. He knew.
It was Clark’s turn to cross his arms and frown. If Bruce thought he’d just lay down without a fight, he was sorely mistaken. Two could play the ‘I’m a giant jerk’ game.
“It’s good that Tim has someone to talk to,” Clark said evenly. “It can be quite hard going through something like this alone.”
To Bruce’s credit he didn’t bat an eye. “And that’s the only reason?”
“What other reason would there be?” Clark asked. Bruce didn’t answer and they stared at each other like they were readying for battle. Of course it wouldn’t be as easy as simply confessing for Bruce to be with him. He should’ve known better. They always ended up bickering, no matter what they were talking about.
“You’re an idiot,” Bruce finally said as he rolled his eyes. He then took two steps forwards and grabbed the collar of Clark’s suit. The Kryptonian’s eyes widened as he realized what Bruce was doing.
He seemed to hesitate for half a second before steeling himself. And then Bruce pulled and Clark found himself dragged close enough that he could feel Bruce’s warm breath on his own face.
Bruce searched his eyes for another two seconds - the longest two seconds in Clark’s life - before he closed the tiny distance between them. Clark had read enough romance novels (shush, don’t judge, some of them are actually quite sweet) and kissed enough people to know that he shouldn’t expect fireworks, but he couldn’t quite smother the fire burning low in his stomach.
He was kissing Bruce.
Bruce was kissing him.
And no, there were no fireworks, but there was Bruce sighing before pressing even closer. There was Bruce’s right hand running from the collar of his suit, up his throat - and what did that shiver up his spine mean? - and cradling his jaw. There was Bruce tilting his head, trying to get even closer. There was the feel of Bruce’s body up against his own.
Fuck fireworks, this was much better.
And when Bruce opened his mouth, letting his tongue run over Clark’s bottom lip gently, Clark couldn’t hold back a second longer. He’d wanted this for years and Bruce was finally letting him, accepting him.
He bent his knees, ignoring Bruce’s noise of protest when their lips separated, and grabbed the back of his thighs. He wasted no time to explain, instead merely yanking Bruce up against his body. The dark knight instinctively wrapped his legs around Clark’s hips even as he let out a surprised yelp.
“You -” Bruce began but Clark interrupted him.
“Much better,” he muttered before crashing their lips together again. When he was sure Bruce had enough control to keep his legs up, Clark let his hands slide up his thighs, landing on his ass, squeezing gently. The harsh nip he got to his tongue was absolutely worth it.
Bruce’s hands found their way into Clark’s hair, tugging and running through it like it was the only thing he knew how to do. His thighs tightened around Clark’s waist and Clark responded by pulling them even closer. He’d never been more grateful for his strength.
When they finally parted Bruce’s face was flushed and his eyes a little dazed. Clark doubted he looked any less like a mess, but he didn’t mind. He’d do anything to have Bruce look at him like this for the rest of their lives.
“So,” Clark said, somehow just as out of breath as Bruce judging by how quickly his chest was moving. “You’re bi.”
“Yea,” Bruce breathed.
“Awesome,” he said with a grin before diving back in to catch Bruce’s lips in another searing kiss.
