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It was a lazy day on the Watchtower. Things had been surprisingly relaxed lately, so everyone in the League had a casual air about them. Even Batman felt relaxed as he walked up to Superman and sat down across from him in the cafeteria.
“Hey,” Clark said.
Bruce nodded. “Hello.”
Clark reached over and stole a couple of Bruce's french fries… he didn't mind. At this point, he only ordered fries when he knew he'd be sitting with Clark.
Clark sipped a glass of juice and sighed. Bruce could tell by the way he seemed to subtly fidget every moment or so that he must have been restless.
“You always say you want to achieve world peace, and then the world goes and threatens to actually be peaceful and you're bored,” Bruce commented, taking a bite of his turkey burger.
Clark stole another french fry and shook his head, a playful smirk taking his usually handsome face right over to beautiful. “I am not bored,” he protested. “And I never said anything about world peace. I'm a little more realistic than that, and I'm not trying for Miss America.”
Bruce smiled in spite of himself and shook his head.
Clark reached for another couple of fries and Bruce watched with a raised eyebrow. This was a good opportunity… he enjoyed teasing Clark. “So, were you planning to just sit here and steal all of them? Surely you could be doing something somewhere… saving a cat from a tree or something?”
“You'd honestly deprive a starving alien boy of a few fries?” Clark asked, obvious mock hurt in his tone. “They're so right about rich people. So heartless.”
Bruce picked up a couple of the fries and threw them at Clark, and Clark caught them in his mouth. Bruce had to shake his head as Clark chewed the fries with his mouth open and then grinning widely and triumphantly as he swallowed.
“You remind me of a golden retriever I used to have,” Bruce commented idly, finally eating one of his own fries.
Clark smiled. “You lie. You never had a golden retriever.”
Bruce shrugged, sliding his tray toward Clark to offer more fries. “I could have.”
“You didn't though,” Clark replied. “You'd have told me before.”
Again, Bruce shrugged. He continued to eat his turkey burger and watched with curiosity as Clark folded his hands on the table and rested his chin on them. It was funny… he looked so much like a child sometimes. It made Bruce want to take care of him. Ridiculous as that urge was.
“You're too quiet,” Bruce commented. “What are you thinking?”
Clark smiled innocently. “I think we should play cards.”
“Cards?” Bruce asked. “I thought you weren't bored?”
Clark pulled the pack of cards from the pocket in his cape. He could keep practically anything in there… and he chose to keep a deck of playing cards. Because he was Clark. He began to shuffle the cards quickly, the tip of his tongue sticking out in concentration.
“I wasn't bored, but you looked like you were,” Clark said, smiling, as he began to deal the cards.
Moments later, Bruce was holding his hand of cards, putting them in order and watching Clark make a confident face as he did the same thing across the table. It was only then that he realized that he didn't even know what game they were playing. He was just an idiot, holding a hand of cards, staring across at a man who could barely contain his delight at the situation.
“So, what are we doing here?” Bruce finally asked.
Clark shrugged. “Improvising. We could always play something like in that Gray Ghost issue where he finally defeats the Card Shark.”
“Issue #217,” Bruce supplied.
Clark smiled, and if Bruce wasn't mistaken, the smile was a fond one. “Of course you know the issue number right off.”
Bruce felt the corners of his own mouth curving into a smile. “It's one of my favorites.”
Clark looked away from Bruce after that. They continued to do nothing that made any sense with their cards for some silent minutes before Clark asked, “Speaking of, did you know that they're showing an all weekend marathon of the Gray Ghost animated series from the '70s this weekend?”
“Hm, no, I didn't,” Bruce replied. “I hate that series, though. You hate that series. Everybody knows the original is better.”
“Sure,” Clark replied, shrugging. “Doesn't mean I won't watch the bad one. You know how we fans can be… need to watch the crappy version so there's something to complain about.”
Bruce snorted a laugh, but he had to stop and wonder then… why was Clark bringing this up now? Was he… was he hoping they could watch it together? Would that be considered a “date?” He swallowed a lump in his throat, and tried to force himself to focus and think here. Surely Bruce was reaching. But maybe…
He looked back up at Clark and studied his face for a moment, but found no answers. But he still couldn't help but wonder… Should he finally make his move?
But he couldn't say the word “date.” Not yet. If he misread Clark's signs… if he scared him off…
He didn't want to think about that.
But he wanted to try and move things forward. He'd been wanting that for a while, and maybe this could be the final push he needed. It was an opening, at least.
“Since we both know we will watch it, how about you come over to the manor on Saturday evening and we can watch it together?” Bruce asked, trying hard to keep his voice casual. “We can order pizza, and...”
Clark made a face. “Oh… I'm sorry, Bruce. I wasn't… I mean, I'd love to, really, but I have plans.”
“Oh?” Bruce asked, feeling his face flush slightly. He felt completely foolish.
Clark nodded. “Yeah… it's a sort of a date, actually.”
At that, Bruce could practically feel the air get sucked out of his lungs. Clark had a date? He was dating someone? He'd been single since things had ended between him and Lois… and now, as soon as Bruce was getting together the courage to make his move, Clark was moving on.
Bruce couldn't help feeling this was just his luck. But he couldn't just sit there silently, like he might have liked to. Clark seemed to want to continue the conversation. So Bruce simply asked, “A date, huh?”
Clark nodded. “Yeah, it's just some guy from the legal department at the Planet.”
Bruce tried not to look up into Clark's eyes, because his own, he feared, might betray him. It somehow stung a bit more that Clark was going out with a guy. But Bruce was going to try and be a good friend about this. If friend was going to continue to be his role, he wanted to excel at it.
“First date?” he asked casually.
“Third actually,” Clark replied. “Nothing serious yet, obviously.”
Bruce had to look up at the word “yet.” He didn't even care now if he was being transparent. “Yet?” he asked. “Does that mean that there could be, at some point?”
Clark glanced up from his cards and shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe.”
Bruce was silent for a minute, trying to imagine what kind of guy from work could possibly deserve Clark. Bruce didn't really think he did either… but he didn't like the idea of Clark getting serious with anyone else. And maybe that was selfish and jealous… but maybe that was who Bruce was.
When Bruce didn't respond, Clark said, “You know, he's a nice guy… I think you'd like him.”
Bruce couldn't help rolling his eyes. And he knew it was wrong, but he felt so jealous that he was actually a bit mad. He forgot about his decision to be a good friend when he accepted how much this hurt. It was immature, but maybe he wanted Clark to feel some of that, too.
“Do you really think it's appropriate?” Bruce asked.
Clark's brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”
“You, dating a human,” Bruce replied. “It just seems… I don't know. Ill-advised. Wrong.”
“Wrong?” Clark asked, almost incredulous. “In what way?”
Bruce shrugged, casually, playing his part. “The interspecies thing. It's just… some people wouldn't approve. Probably your boyfriend would be one of them… if he knew he was dating an alien.”
“Wow,” Clark began, after a moment of sitting there silently with his mouth agape. “You have said some nasty things to me in the past… way in the past, before we were friends… but that really takes the cake.”
Bruce shrugged. “I'm not trying to be mean,” he lied. “But...”
“But what?” Clark demanded. “Because I don't remember asking for your opinion.”
Clark had raised his voice, and other League members were now staring at the two of them. Bruce noticed that Clark's face was slightly red, and his eyes looked… heavy. Sad.
“Do you honestly think that just because I'm different I should have to spend my life alone?” Clark asked, his voice suddenly quieter and heavier. “I've had a lot of people make me feel like I was freak in my lifetime… I didn't expect it from my supposed best friend.”
Yeah. He had taken it too far. Ashamed, he looked down and said nothing. Clark got up and walked away, and Bruce couldn't bring himself to look up until he was sure he was gone. He had just hurt Clark… and he'd done it easily, and on purpose, for his own selfish and immature reasons. He was right before… he didn't deserve Clark.
&&&
On Saturday night, Bruce decided to watch the Gray Ghost marathon anyways. He even ordered pizza and invited the kids to watch with him, but they all had plans or work. He couldn't get a date and he couldn't even get his own kids to hang out with him… it was fitting, he felt, that he had hit a new low.
He picked up a piece of pizza and nibbled it, watching the television without much interest. He still felt terrible from how he had acted a few days before. He longed to apologize and make it up to Clark.
The thing was that he didn't even mean what he had said. He obviously didn't believe there was something wrong with Clark mixing with humans. Clark may have been from a different planet, but he was just like anyone else… better even, and not because of his powers. Bruce had once said that Clark was the most human person of all, and it was true… in all the ways that counted. He was genuinely such a good person, and anyone would be lucky to have him.
At that, he couldn't help wondering how Clark's date was going. Maybe Clark was sitting there, still mad at him, planning to have sex with this guy to get back at Bruce.
Or maybe he was sitting there realizing how the relationship with this guy didn't have the potential to become serious… that maybe it already was serious.
Clark could fall in love, and it would complicate Bruce's life. Clark would certainly tell anyone he was serious about that he was Superman… everyone's security would be compromised, and it would be dangerous for everyone.
And on the other hand, Clark could fall in love, and it could practically ruin Bruce's life, or at the very least, break his heart. If Clark got into a serious relationship, Bruce would have officially missed his chance. Clark could be the one but Bruce wouldn't get him. And it would be all because he had been vindictive and cruel to Clark… the last person on earth who deserved it.
And, he couldn't help but fear, it was partly because Clark hadn't wanted him. Clark had decided to go out with someone and not share it with Bruce, his so-called best friend. Clark had met someone because Bruce had never been an option.
It was the worst rejection he had ever felt.
He didn't end up watching much of the Gray Ghost marathon after all… didn't end up eating much pizza either. He packed it all up and went to bed. He didn't sleep, but he did make the effort. It was enough to make Alfred happy, he supposed. It was enough to look like things could be normal or would ever be normal again.
&&&
Bruce didn't see Clark again until the following Tuesday. It was the first time since the previous week when they had fought… or when Clark received an unprovoked attack, to be totally honest.
Bruce longed to apologize. He longed to take away Clark's hurt, to prove to him that he hadn't meant a word he said. He wanted to say “you're not a freak” and “you may be different, but different is not bad.” He just wanted to make it all right again… and he would keep being mad at himself until he did.
But honestly, as mad and ashamed as he felt about himself, the hardest thing to get past was that he was too afraid. What if Clark turned him away? What if Clark hated him now and could never forgive him? What if Clark told him about the incredible sex he had had with his new boyfriend to pay him back?
He was too afraid to risk it.
So what he did instead was looked down and refused to meet Clark's gaze. What he did was pretended he wasn't hating himself. What he did was acted like he always did when things happened. He acted like his distant asshole-ish self and sat there drowning in self-loathing.
&&&
Bruce looked at himself in the reflection of his shiny sports car window one last time and smoothed his already neat hair again. He had to do this, because things couldn't go on like they had been. He just couldn't let himself back out now. He grabbed his bouquet of sunflowers and the package he had brought and headed up to the door.
He went inside the building and up the two familiar flights of stairs and down a couple of doors to reach Clark's apartment. He hesitated before knocking, but no. He had come this far… he couldn't turn back now. He had spent several days gathering his courage and telling himself this was the right thing to do… even if it didn't get him Clark as a romantic interest, it could at least potentially get him back as a friend.
He knocked on the door, and after a moment, Clark came to the door, looking phenomenal in jeans that hugged just right in the best places and a dark blue and green plaid shirt that had the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and was unbuttoned all the way to reveal a white tank top. He wasn't wearing his glasses and his feet were bare.
“Oh,” he said. “Hey B.”
Bruce cleared his throat. “Hello.”
Clark seemed to take the sight of him in. He nodded at the flowers. “Are those for me?”
Bruce cracked a little smile and attempted to crack a little joke as well. “No, they're my new purse.”
Clark laughed softly and said, “Come on in. Let me get a vase.” Bruce followed him in and closed the door behind himself. He watched silently as Clark went to the small china cabinet beside his small dining area and pulled out a crystal vase. Bruce had given it to him for Christmas one year. He wondered if Clark remembered that.
Clark took the flowers and sniffed them before putting some water in the vase and sitting them in there. “They're beautiful,” he said quietly. “I'm surprised you remembered they were my favorites.”
Bruce couldn't forget the jealousy he had felt when at Clark's apartment for a previous birthday he had seen a bouquet of sunflowers and assumed they were from a lover… and he couldn't forget the relief and shame he felt after peeking at the card and seeing the flowers were from Clark's parents.
“I did remember,” was all Bruce said, however.
Clark put his glasses on and stood there quietly, with an almost expectant look on his face. Bruce knew he was expecting him to say something… and he was realizing he needed more time to work up his nerve.
So rather than saying what he wanted to, he said, “You know, if you put an aspirin in the water they should keep longer.”
Clark smiled. “Bruce, I grew up on a farm. I know a little something about keeping a plant.”
Bruce nodded.
“Besides,” he went on, “Ma always said a little white vinegar and sugar actually keeps them even longer than the aspirin, so I usually do that.”
Again, Bruce nodded. “I'll have to tell Alfred about that. He probably already knows, but it would still be good information to pass along.”
Clark sighed and said, “I'm sure he'd appreciate that.” But after another period of silence, he asked, “So did you actually want anything, or…?”
“Well,” Bruce began. “I mostly wanted to give you those. And say… to tell you that I'm sorry for what I said before.”
“Really?” Clark asked.
“Honestly,” Bruce replied. “Clark, I was such an idiot. And an insensitive jerk. I didn't mean a word I said.”
Clark nodded. “Uh huh. And are you apologizing now because you hurt my feelings or because you genuinely didn't mean what you said?”
“Both,” Bruce insisted.
“You were really cruel,” Clark replied.
Bruce nodded. “I know.”
“How could you say things like that if you hadn't been secretly thinking them all along?” Clark asked. “Because you didn't even seem to have to think very hard to stab the knife as deep as possible.”
Bruce looked down. “I wanted to hurt you.”
“But why?” Clark demanded. “What did I do to deserve that?”
“Nothing,” Bruce replied. “You didn't deserve it.”
“Then why did you --”
Bruce sighed. “I was jealous. I was jealous because you turned me down.”
“You got that mad because I made plans long before I ever even knew you wanted to hang out,” Clark said skeptically. “Seriously?”
Bruce closed his eyes. “Not because you made plans with someone else, but because you were dating someone else.”
“What?”
Bruce sighed again. “Look, I also wanted to give you this.” He handed him the gift he had brought with him.
Clark sighed but ripped open the wrapping paper. “Two copies of The Old Man and the Sea. Thanks, but...”
“I know you like Hemingway, so I wanted to get you a first edition,” Bruce replied. “That's what the hardback one is. And then I wanted to write an inscription, but I didn't feel right defacing such a valuable old book, so I grabbed the paperback copy for that.”
“This is too much, B,” Clark replied.
Bruce shook his head. “No it isn't. Now, read the inscription.”
“Right this second?” Clark asked. “Because I'd much rather finish the conversation we were having… don't change the subject.”
Bruce sighed. “Please, Clark. The inscription explains it better than I ever could speaking out loud.”
Clark sighed heavily. “Fine.” He flipped the book open. “To Clark,” he read aloud. “I know I'm an idiot. I know I do and say stupid things when I'm hurting. I know I don't deserve it, but if you forgave me, I'd spend every day for the rest of my life making it up to you and trying never to hurt you again.” Clark paused briefly to look up at Bruce, but continued reading. “You are my best friend, the most beautiful person I've ever had the extreme good fortune to know, and someone I don't want to live without. And the truth is, part of the reason my life is so rich is because of you. And I want you to know I adore you, honestly. Love, Bruce.”
After Clark read the inscription aloud, he continued to look at the book, and Bruce could tell he was reading it again silently, probably digesting the words and what they meant.
“Bruce, that was beautiful,” he finally said, looking up at him with a calm expression on his face.
“I meant it,” Bruce replied, tone even and honest.
Clark gulped softly. “You… you have feelings...”
Bruce nodded. “I know you're seeing someone, and you don't feel the same...”
“I'm not seeing anyone,” Clark replied. “It was just a couple of dates, and we decided not to have another. He actually said it seemed like I was hung up on someone else.”
“Are you?” Bruce asked.
Clark nodded.
Bruce nodded as well. “Oh. Well, that's fine. I'm still relieved I told you… I know this won't excuse my behavior but it should hopefully begin to explain it.”
Clark sighed. “You are so dense.”
Bruce stopped. “Hm?”
“It's you, you idiot,” Clark replied. “I am in love with you.”
Bruce's heart began pounding. He wondered if he could possibly be hallucinating this… if maybe he wanted it so bad he was imagining it.
“Silence,” Clark replied, sighing. “Exactly how I expected this conversation to go.”
“I'm sorry,” Bruce rushed. “I didn't… I was just trying to make sure I wasn't imagining it… because… it just seems too good to be true.”
Clark smiled softly. “Well, it is true.”
The sigh of relief that rippled out of Bruce was so big and gratifying. “Can I… do you think we could kiss now, or…?”
Clark wrinkled his nose. “Well… not yet. I… we still need to talk about what you said.”
“But I didn't mean it,” Bruce insisted. “Obviously I didn't.”
“But can you see why it hurt me so badly?” Clark asked. “I'm crazy about you and you sat there and said it was gross for me to date people because I'm an alien weirdo. I've never felt so rejected in my life. To hear those words from you felt like you might as well have said you could never be into me because I disgusted you. I was crushed.”
Bruce sighed. “I'm sorry. I… I was hurt, so I wanted you to hurt. It was a low blow, but I felt rejected, too.”
“You never gave me a chance to reject you, Bruce,” Clark said.
Bruce sighed. “It's not like you said anything either. And in fact, it almost sounded like you were trying to make me jealous, telling me about your date while you just naturally assumed I had nothing better to do than sit and watch Gray Ghost reruns.”
“I wasn't,” Clark insisted. “Well… at least not on purpose.”
Bruce nodded, unconvinced. “Right.”
“Look, I'm sorry if I sounded that way,” Clark said. “It wasn't cool… and I can hardly blame you for being angry and wanting to snap back at me. But the bottom line is that I didn't know how you felt so I tried to move on. And then you got mad at me for it and attacked me… and with something I'm extremely sensitive about no less. You of all people should know and understand that.”
Bruce nodded. “I do. I was just being a vindictive ass because I wasn't getting what I wanted. You didn't deserve it, and I'm truly sorry.”
“You can't do that to me,” Clark replied. “It's not healthy. And if we're going to give this thing a shot, you can't treat me like that for any reason ever or I am gone, you understand?”
“That's only fair,” Bruce replied, nodding. “More than fair.”
Clark nodded, and then smiled softly. “So… you can kiss me now.”
Bruce grinned. “Really?”
Clark smiled. “You better. I've waited long enough.”
So Bruce came close and kissed him once. Soft and chaste, but sweet and very nice. It was the nicest first kiss he had ever had. But after that first kiss, Clark gave him a second kiss. It was deeper and warmer and Bruce's arms instinctively went around Clark. It was nicest second kiss he had ever had.
“So,” Bruce breathed when they parted. “You forgive me?”
Clark shrugged. “Kiss me again and I'll think about it.”
Bruce wrapped his arms around Clark and pressed his body against him. He kissed him deeply and passionately, and his hands maybe went down and squeezed Clark's butt a little while their tongues got acquainted with one another.
“I forgive you,” Clark breathed between kisses.
“Thank you,” Bruce replied.
Clark pulled him over toward the couch while they continued to kiss and touch each other, and Bruce proved to Clark beyond any doubt that he had no problems with humans and Kryptonians mixing.