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Surprisingly, Bruce had only come out of the battle against Lex Luthor with a broken arm. As Superman carried him into the sterile, fluorescent-lit hospital room with a gentle precision, Alfred and Leslie followed closely. All three of them had simultaneously scolded him, a mere mortal, for charging in with no regard for his fragile human body, but Bruce had already measured the consequences of his actions and accepted the repercussions.
Besides, it was the perfect opportunity to field test the lead spray he’d been developing. The adhesive quality left something to be desired, his fingers idly traced the rough texture of the cast encasing his arm as he mused from his hospital bed. Metallo was able to scrape it off within a few minutes, but that was all it took for Superman to take him out of the game.
Really, Kal-El should be thanking him for working on a solution to the frankly impossible quantities of kryptonite that seemingly popped out of nowhere. Bruce hadn’t foreseen that when he took in a recently orphaned Dick Grayson that he’d be outfitting the boy with bulletproof tights. Now, he found himself financially supporting every hero Nightwing befriended.
Which was good, because his son was safer in a team, but also. Bruce was now funding an entire league. Of justice.
The money wasn’t a problem, Bruce had the timetables and spreadsheets to prove it, the problem was more about the kidnappings. Honestly, he was used to it, he’s a billionaire. But now every faction with a grudge against a league member would take it up with him. And rarely did they let Bruce bring his laptop, depriving him of answering emails and compiling data, the cruel bastards.
“Bruce, Bruce!”
Bruce shook himself from his thoughts, bringing his attention to a harried Superman. Leslie and Alfred had gone, likely at the behest of Kal. Who was looking at him with guilt.
Of course. It’s not like Superman can go one fight without giving himself a saviour complex.
"Bruce," Kal said gently, settling beside the bed. "There's something I want you to have."
Bruce tilted his head, curious to see what Superman could possibly offer him.
In the quiet of the late night, Bruce's fingers traced the edges of the lead box, its cool surface a stark contrast to the warmth of his hand. The Kryptonian had given him something of great importance, his Achilles heel. Bruce thought back to that moment in the hospital, when Kal El had said to him that there was no one else he trusted with the key to his vulnerability.
As he lay there, Bruce's mind raced with a singular thought: did Superman just propose to him? He shifted onto his side, his arm cradling his head, the sheets rustling softly beneath him. No, the ring was made of kryptonite, there was no way for Bruce to wear it without Kal becoming ill. And it was cancerous, obviously not meant to be worn.
Bruce wondered if it was a Kryptonian tradition, to exchange rings forged from their home planet. How tragically ironic that Kal couldn't partake in this custom. Lost in his musings, Bruce's fingers danced along the contours of the box, absorbing the weight of its significance.
Why him? Why propose to Bruce Wayne? Because Bruce Wayne funded the entire Justice League? Their interactions had been fleeting, usually with Superman rescuing him from another kidnapping, or when Bruce was bringing up suggestions for changes to the Watchtower, or giving his two cents on interpersonal League business. Superman did bring him to his Fortress of Solitude, which was aptly named, so maybe Bruce had fostered trust between them without knowing it.
He put the box back in the nightstand. It wasn’t like this was the first time social cues had gone over his head. Bruce stared at the ceiling, wondering what course of action to take.
In the hospital, he had been too shocked to turn Superman down. If he went back on it now, chances were he’d hurt Superman and break the trust they had built. Bruce thinned his lips, was there any reason to not be married to Superman? It didn’t seem like Kal was interested in consummating, or maybe he was waiting until Bruce’s cast came off. Maybe Kryptonians were more subtle in their marital affairs.
Bruce closed his eyes, he could work with this. There was little downside to his newly wedded reality, and if Kal wanted more than what they had now he could just ask. With that in mind, Bruce finally drifted off, dreaming of wedding bells.
“Hey princess, glad to see you’re not in another castle,” the Green Lantern quipped, his emerald-clad figure radiating brazen cockiness as he effortlessly scooped Bruce up into a bridal carry. The alien captors were strewn about the spaceship, their bizarre anatomy contorted in unconsciousness.
“Isn’t this like, the seventh time you've been abducted this week?” The Lantern continued, his voice laced with a mix of jest and concern. “We oughta keep you on a leash or something.”
Bruce's gaze was drawn, almost magnetically, to the glimmering green ring sitting on the Lantern's finger. Green Lantern didn’t really stop talking though, taking his silence as shock. Which it was, in a way. Bruce maintained his silence all the way to the Watchtower.
“Finally got the damsel out of distress,” he announced with a laugh as they touched down in the sprawling expanse of the Watchtower's headquarters.
“You don't have to call him a damsel,” the Flash interjected, a blur of crimson and lightning as he zipped over to check Bruce for injuries.
Green Lantern offered a shrug, his posture unapologetically nonchalant. “If the shoe fits. Besides, I didn't hear any complaints.”
The Flash looked up, satisfied that Bruce was unharmed. “Still, he's the guy who funded this entire space station. We should treat him with respect.”
“Whatever, in my experience, the head honchos are usually the no-brainers of any operation,” Green Lantern dismissed, waving off the Flash as he strolled out of the hub.
The Flash quickly sputtered out apologies for his companion’s behaviour, but Bruce never took his mind away from the green ring on the Lantern’s finger.
The following night was as tumultuous as the night Kal had proposed. Bruce, unable to sleep a wink, tossed and turned on the cool, satin sheets, his fingers digging into the fabric as he considered the implications.
Did Superman also marry Green Lantern? Did kryptonite give humans powers? No, just cancer. Bruce's tongue swiped over his dry lips, the taste of salt lingering as he grappled with these perplexing questions.
How was Green Lantern wearing it then? Maybe Lantern wasn’t human, maybe he was a species that was immune to radiation.
The soft hum of the air conditioning provided a constant background noise, a steady rhythm that underscored the turmoil in his mind.
It’s possible that Krypton didn’t adhere to strict monogamy, but that didn’t excuse Kal not telling him beforehand. Polyamory, and monogamy, relied on communication. Why wouldn’t Superman tell him that he was marrying Green Lantern?
Unless, he married Green Lantern before he married Bruce. But still, it hurt that Kal wouldn’t have a conversation about it with him. There was a stinging pang in his chest, Bruce hugged a pillow in an imitation of spooning a lover. Kal knew that he couldn’t wear proof of their union, the kryptonite festering poisonous radiation.
The situation was just confusing, Superman hadn’t treated him any differently than when they were just colleagues. Bruce took in a sharp breath, of course, it was all so clear. There was no way of ensuring that Bruce Wayne would continue to fund the League’s operations. He could pull out of the partnership without warning, leaving Superman in a very precarious situation.
It was insurance. A marriage of convenience. He was the side piece while Superman’s true partner paraded around with a green ring. Kal hadn’t kept Bruce in the dark with malicious intent, it was just as a safety net. It was fine, their relationship was fine. They could still banter back and forth about how the other was ignoring their own wellbeing, they could still watch the sun set in the Fortress of Solitude together, he could still summon an exasperated look on Kal’s face by stupidly taking charge, he could still make Kal snort with his dry humour.
While Superman went home to the love of his life, the one he had chosen to be with for who they are, not what they had. It was fine.
So why were there tears falling onto his pillow?
Despite his complicated feelings on the Green Lantern, Bruce couldn’t deny the impressiveness of his powers. The ability to make hard light constructs was the ultimate power, in Bruce’s opinion.
“Make the wrench a size smaller.”
“I don’t see why I’m taking orders from a guy who probably pays someone to chauffeur him to his bed,” Green Lantern huffed as he acquiesced, the wrench in Bruce’s hand shrinking to the appropriate size.
Bruce hummed nonchalantly as he undid the bolts on the inconspicuous panel. It came off with a clang, exposing rows of colourful wires.
“Boltclippers,” he said offhandedly as he held out his palm.
“You better know what you’re doing,” Green Lantern muttered as he conjured green bolt cutters onto Bruce’s open hand.
Bruce got to work immediately, snipping wires with seasoned ease.
“Of course I do, this isn’t my first kidnapping.” He snorted, “I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s their first time kidnapping someone, they didn’t even have a jailer and the cameras had numerous blind spots.”
The doors opened simultaneously, as per blackout protocol. Bruce straightened, his gaze shifting from the exposed wires to the now-empty space in his palm where the green bolt cutters had been.
“I’ve also cut power to their cloaking systems, the League will probably dispatch someone soon,” Bruce couldn't help but marvel at the seamless manifestation and disappearance of the tools.
The things he would do with an unlimited tool box. Turning towards Green Lantern, whatever he was going to say next was forgotten at the look of newfound respect in the Lantern’s face. That was… unexpected, but not unwelcome.
Swallowing, Bruce motioned to a nearby doorway, “We should wait for rescue in storage, they’ll be expecting us to make a break for it with an escape pod.”
Green Lantern blinked, “Oh, yeah that makes sense. Lead the way, princess.”
As Bruce motioned for them to huddle amongst the stacks of cargo, Green Lantern seemed to be in thought, which was a bit of a commodity.
“You’ve…done this a lot,” he finally said after a while.
Bruce shrugged, their positions placed them rather close to each other, not even a foot of space between them.
“I’m a professional kidnappee, they may as well call me Bruce ‘Damsel in Distress’ Wayne.”
Green Lantern snorted, then stopped himself abashedly.
The silence settled between them, the hum of the ship's systems the only sound travelling through the storage space. Green Lantern shifted, his gaze fixed on the floor, while Bruce's eyes wandered, tracing the patterns in the grating beneath their feet.
After what felt like an eternity, Green Lantern finally spoke, his voice measured. "I underestimated you, Bruce."
Bruce looked up, meeting Green Lantern's shrouded eyes with a neutral expression. "It's what people expect from me," he replied, his tone carrying a hint of resignation.
"That doesn't make it right," Green Lantern asserted, his jaw tense.
Bruce offered a nonchalant shrug. "What are you gonna do?"
Tension hung in the air, palpable and unspoken. Then, Green Lantern took a breath, his next question carefully chosen. "Do you... know who I am, under this mask?"
"No," Bruce replied without hesitation. "I don't delve into the personal lives of heroes outside of Gotham."
Green Lantern leaned closer, his forehead resting against Bruce's. "I'd like to share that with you."
Bruce hesitated for a moment, then shook his head, the movement jostling Green Lantern’s brown locks. "That's not necessary."
With a determined resolve, Green Lantern allowed his construct to fade, revealing the man beneath. Bruce didn’t know why he bothered, all he knew now was that Green Lantern had a face and brown eyes.
"Call me Hal Jordan," he said, his voice softer now. "I'm a test pilot for Ferris Air."
Bruce nodded, though this information held little significance to him.
The quiet of the storage room was shattered by an abrupt ruckus outside. Alien voices shouted in a language unfamiliar to them, punctuated by sharp bangs. Then, an eerie silence settled, and Bruce could feel Hal tensing in anticipation of a fight.
"Bruce, where are you?" Superman's voice echoed through the narrow corridor.
"In the storage room," Bruce called back, his voice steady.
Green Lantern manifested his mask once more, the construct forming seamlessly around his face. Together, they crawled out of their hiding spot, cautiously surveying the aftermath.
Superman found Bruce first, a visible wave of relief washing over him. "Thank Rao, you're alright."
Green Lantern chimed in, a smug grin playing on his lips. "No Rao involved, it was all Brucie here cutting their cloaking system."
Bruce glanced at Hal, "It would have been a lot harder without your constructs. I can only imagine the things I could accomplish with an ability like that."
Bruce sighed wistfully, thinking of all the collateral damage he could effortlessly sweep away with a giant green broom. Green Lantern shot a smirk at Superman, the smugness intensifying. Bruce couldn't quite decipher the unspoken exchange, but it seemed significant. Superman's smile seemed more strained all of a sudden.
"I bet there's a lot you could do with my powers too," Superman said, a steel tenseness undercutting his tone.
Bruce considered it for a moment. "It seems like a tremendous responsibility. And the super hearing, it would likely overstimulate me to the point of torture."
Which was true, Superman’s power set was a lot. A lot.
“See, all I gotta do is put B in some green tights, and I got me the perfect sidekick,” Green Lantern slung an arm over Bruce’s shoulder, looking like the cat that got the cream.
Superman’s jaw ticked, and his smile had all but faded. Why was he mad? Were he and Hal going through a rough patch?
“Are you angry?” Bruce asked, ever perceptive.
Superman's gaze softened, the strain in his expression easing. "No, not at all. Just eager to get you back to Earth."
Green Lantern took his arm off Bruce, hands up in mock surrender, “He’s all yours, boy scout. I gotta go debrief with the Guardians.”
He gave Bruce an appreciative smile, “Catch ya later, B.”
As Green Lantern left, Superman moved closer, his arms wrapping almost protectively around Bruce. His gaze followed the retreating figure of Green Lantern, and there was something in his eyes, an unknown rivalry that Bruce couldn't quite place.
"How are you planning to get me back to Earth without a spacesuit?" Bruce asked, tilting his head up to meet Superman's gaze.
"The Javelin will be here shortly," Superman reassured, his voice carrying a soothing confidence.
Bruce nodded, a subtle sense of relief washing over him. Whatever Kal was saying was lost to him, he was already recontextualizing their relationship in his head. Hal had trusted him enough to relinquish his identity to Bruce, however trite the gesture was to him. Clearly Hal was saying that as Superman trusted Bruce with his vulnerability, he did too.
Bruce suddenly felt selfish for wanting more out of their marriage. Superman and Green Lantern were two lovers in a wary circumstance, and he had foolishly wished to intrude on their relationship. Bruce had to make this right, to apologize to the both of them, and show that he was content with his role as the financial support.
Even though it wasn’t the truth.
Bruce stood in the dimly lit chamber of the Watchtower, the weight of the gifts he held in his hands both comforting and nerve-wracking. It was the anniversary, a date etched in his memory, when Superman had handed him the kryptonite ring, a gesture that had been more than Bruce had expected.
He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. It was time to face the feelings he had carefully tucked away.
Superman was nearby, his back turned as he studied a holographic display. Bruce approached him, his footsteps echoing softly in the silence.
"Kal," Bruce said, his voice steady but tinged with vulnerability.
Superman turned, surprise flickering in his eyes. "Bruce, I... I didn't expect to see you here."
Bruce nodded, his gaze steady. "May we have a moment alone?"
Superman's cheeks flushed slightly, but he nodded, clearly taken off guard. "Of course."
As the others left the chamber, with a few wolf whistles thrown their way, Bruce turned back to Superman, the origami bouquet clutched tightly in his hand. He held out the bouquet, each paper flower carefully crafted, vibrant colours contrasting against the sterile environment of the Watchtower.
Superman's eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. He reached out, fingers trembling as he took the bouquet from Bruce's hand.
"Happy anniversary," Bruce said, his voice soft but sincere.
But then, as if a switch had been flipped, Superman seemed to freeze. He stared at the bouquet, his expression blank.
Bruce's heart sank. Maybe he had overstepped, misread the situation entirely. He opened his mouth to apologize, to retreat, but Superman's hand shot out, gripping his arm.
"Hold on," Superman said, his voice unsteady. "Our... what?"
Bruce blinked, taken aback. "Anniversary?"
Superman's eyes widened, realization dawning. "Anniversary," he repeated, almost to himself.
Bruce shifted uncomfortably, a mixture of nerves and anticipation coursing through him. He cleared his throat, breaking the momentary silence.
"Kal, was Hal... unaware of our marriage?" Bruce asked, his voice careful.
Superman's eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. "What does Hal have to do with this?" he stammered, clearly caught off guard.
Bruce tilted his head in confusion. "Green Lantern and you... you're married," he stated, the words carrying a mix of certainty and bewilderment.
Superman's mouth opened and closed, no words forming. He looked like a man caught in a whirlwind of emotions, unable to grasp the reality of the situation.
With a swift movement, Superman gathered Bruce in his arms and, in a blur of motion, they were suddenly in the bustling cafeteria of the Watchtower.
Hal Jordan sat at a table, engrossed in a plate of food. He looked up, a quizzical expression on his face, which quickly turned to surprise as he saw Superman and Bruce standing before him.
Hal took a bite of his burger, eyeing the origami bouquet with mild curiosity. "What's up with the bouquet, B?"
Bruce cleared his throat, glancing at Superman for support. Superman stepped forward, placing Bruce in front of him.
"He says we're married," Superman stated, his voice steady but tinged with an underlying astonishment.
Hal's eyes widened, and he started coughing, choking on his burger in sheer disbelief. Bruce watched in mild horror, feeling utterly out of the loop.
"Wait, what?" Hal managed to sputter out between coughs. "How? When?"
Bruce meekly responded, "Kal proposed with a kryptonite ring, and... well, you have a green ring, so I assumed."
Hal burst into hysterical laughter, the sound echoing through the cafeteria. He couldn't seem to decide whether he wanted to laugh or cry. Superman, though looking slightly embarrassed, couldn't help but crack a small smile.
Between fits of laughter, Hal managed to catch his breath. "You thought... oh, this is too good!"
Bruce felt his cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I... I didn't know."
Superman gently patted Bruce's back, trying to offer some comfort. "Bruce, I didn't realize how you interpreted it. The ring... I confiscated it from Lex, and I gave it to you in case I ever went rogue."
Bruce's eyes widened in realization. "Oh."
All his fears and conservations, those heavy smothering nights, it was all the product of his own conclusions. Bruce had tormented and pined for nothing.
He turned to Superman, his brows furrowed. "But why did you give me a romantic speech about holding the key to your vulnerability then?"
Hal couldn't contain himself any longer. He burst into another fit of laughter, even harder this time. Superman's blush deepened, and he glanced away, clearly embarrassed.
"I... I didn't think... I didn't realize..." Superman stammered, struggling to find the right words.
Hal wiped tears of mirth from his eyes, his laughter finally subsiding. "This is better than any soap opera."
Superman shot him a half-amused, half-exasperated look. "Thanks for your support, Hal."
Hal flashed Bruce a cheeky grin, "Well damn, if I’d known we were hitched I’d have taken you out more."
“Really?”
The word came out far more breathlessly than Bruce had wanted it to. Too wishful, too wanting, and all of a sudden Bruce could not look away from the majesty of space as Hal and Kal’s stares burned into him.
The silence lingered in the cafeteria for a beat, until Hal broke it. "We should probably take this somewhere more private. Kal's room?"
Superman nodded, and in an instant, they were standing in Superman's room aboard the Watchtower.
Hal turned to Bruce, his expression softening. "Really, how else would I treat my husband?"
Bruce's gaze dropped, his voice quiet. "I thought... I thought maybe it was just because of my money."
Hal's eyes widened, disbelief etched across his features. "You seriously believe we would only want you for your money?"
Bruce nodded, feeling chastised all of a sudden.
Superman's brows furrowed, and he let out a low whine. "No, Bruce, we would wine and dine you so hard. We would never shove you aside for our own convenience."
"Oh," Bruce replied, his voice a mere whisper.
Hal laced his fingers with Bruce's, a silent reassurance that Bruce welcomed wholeheartedly. With a gentle touch, Hal rested his head against Bruce's, the weight of it grounding and comforting. Superman joined them, his hand resting on Bruce's shoulder, the heaviness a protective gesture.
The three of them sat on the bed, a tangle of limbs and shared warmth, soaking in each other's presence.
Then, in a soft, tender voice, Hal spoke, "You know, me and Big Blue here, we were sort of fighting over you."
Bruce's eyes darted between the two, concern flickering in his gaze. Had he unknowingly become a source of friction between the two heroes? Superman's arms encircled him, a gentle embrace that anchored him.
"No, not anything serious," Kal interjected, his voice warm and reassuring. "Just a light rivalry."
Hal’s fingers found Kal’s hand, his lips curving suggestively. "But you know, I wouldn't mind resolving this love triangle in another way."
Bruce's chest felt lighter, every touch felt like the fluttering of moth wings against his skin. As Hal and Kal each pressed a kiss to the corners of his lips, it felt like his nights were going to be a lot less lonely from now on.
Hal pulled away and grinned, “Well, that was one hell of a proposal, B.”
Bruce groaned as Kal failed to suppress his snickering. He was never going to live this down.