Archive of Our Own ^beta

She was beautiful, an ornate miniature figurine of a dairy cow with ‘treat udders kindly’ written on the little ceramic base. Her face was soft, and her eyes were so expressive, so much so it made Clark reminisce on when he was a young boy helping his Ma and Pa on the farm. She looked like their Buttercup and even had little flowers of her namesake on the base too. She also had nine hours and counting until she went live on the website.

The truth of the matter was Clark was a sucker for collecting things, he always had been from his introduction with Pa’s coin collection to the countless sticker books and trading card collections he started as he grew. However, the current object of his collection affection was a line of novelty ornament animals with quippy puns on their bases. They were small enough to just fit in the palm of his hand and were dotted around his apartment on any flat surface.

Bruce called them kitsch, which was firstly rude but also wrong because unfortunately for him they were extremely popular for their production count and with each online drop they were becoming far more elusive than the last. Normally Clark would not care, letting fate decide whether he was lucky enough with each release and grateful for those he could obtain, but this one was different and had been causing him a lot of unneeded stress since the design was revealed and the release date announced.

His stomach felt sickly as he kept glancing at his unlocked phone screen where the website showed the sweet cow ceramic but also the ever-looming countdown.

“Are you looking at that ornament again, Smallville?” Lois snapped him out his daze, looking at him with sympathetic eyes, less a question and more of a statement. For someone who led a secret superhero life so successfully like Clark he sure was readable and transparent in his emotions, distress visible in his expression. “Don’t sweat it, you’ve got this.”

“If you don’t get off that phone today.” A manicured hand waved in front of Clark’s view to his phone as they stood in line waiting to order their usual drinks. He could see the tip of a chic high heel tapping slightly in his peripheral, possibly in annoyance but mostly in boredom, shifting her weight slightly as they waited.

“I promise this isn’t about the drop, I’m just texting B, thanking him.” Looking up at Lois he beamed his signature toothy grin, big black framed glasses adding to the visual that was annoyingly endearing and hard to not smile back too.

"Ah, the perks of being a sugar baby.” As quickly as the ginger haired reporter spoke those words just as quickly was the change of Clark’s expression; eyebrows knitting together, face pointed, and lip pouted.

“Hey! Do you want your pastry or not?” He snapped quickly back and turned his body to face more towards the counter than his friend and colleague, in a manner that was supposed to express annoyance but was just making Lois more entertained. “You know I don’t like being called that.”

Any pretense of actual true annoyance was gone quicker than it started, and the fellow reporter once again angled his body towards Lois once more as they waited. Bruce had insisted they both picked up some of the - frankly overpriced – food also while on their usual coffee run as his treat. “He said it’s because ‘it’s Friday’, but I think he’s mostly trying to make me feel better.”

She smiled softly at him; he was adorable getting all worked up over a figurine that clearly meant a lot to him, but it was nice that Bruce indulged in this even though Clark had told her many times about how he had called them tacky - not that she disagreed much herself. “Speaking of, how long left now?”

“Just under seven hours.” He said without a second thought.

"Not long left now.” Came the voice from the desk opposite his own, catching Clark’s attention and evoking a nervous smile. “Now you can go on your phone to your heart's content.” Lois added with a smirk, making him roll his eyes. “I genuinely thought Perry was going to confiscate your phone earlier and you’d have to collect it at the end of the day, like you were in high school.”

“Me too.” Clark let out a little gust of laughter as he propped his satchel onto the desk and packed away his belongings. “Got me together though, finished that piece super quick after.”

The two of them walked towards the elevator laughing and talking idly, waiting along with their fellow Daily Planet colleagues until the elevator was free for them to head down to the lobby and start their respective weekends. They shared their goodbyes and wishes of ‘have a nice weekend’ and ‘let me know if you get that damn cow’, exiting the building and going their separate ways home.

As it was the weekend Clark did not go on his usual route and instead headed for the ferry, Gotham bound for the weekend. Now that he and Bruce were dating for all intents and purposes – although the word boyfriend had yet to be spoken – they spent alternate weekends at each other's place. So much so, neither of the men had to pack an overnight bag anymore, as both had clothes and spare toiletries at the other’s home.

Clark enjoyed the ferry ride, the feel of the water rocking against the boat and the crisp air against his skin. He was excited for a few nights at the lake house, because as much as he was a people person, he did enjoy how away from it and how peaceful it was. Not long after the battle against Steppenwolf he had often found himself either at the farm with Ma or the lake house, both providing him with different types of comfort and respite.

Shaking himself from those thoughts the reporter quickly checked his phone before the ferry arrived, seeing both a ‘See you soon’ text from Bruce and the current time which reminded him he only had a few more hours until the drop.

Bruce was currently perched atop an apartment building, using the gargoyles and architecture to his stealthy advantage and looking around his city for any potential sign of unrest. Instead, he was greeted with an unsettling quiet, streets almost empty in these late hours. He had only recently handed over some petty crooks to Gordon, but it was still early into his patrol and Gotham never lied dormant too long.

Going against his better instincts, he subsided to the nagging feeling in his gut, leaning against hard stone and quickly texting Clark. He hated mixing his personal life with Batman duties, but he had slowly been breaking these rules for Clark – not by demand but just from naturally having more purpose than just his nightly patrols. The billionaire had begun to pay more attention to his life beyond the Bat, much to Alfred’s delight.

‘Good news?’

The text was simple and to the point, annoyingly Bruce had become very invested in Clark, and particularly this current kitschy ornament. He reflected on when he had become so sappy, sappy enough to be deferring his patrol to see about a damn cow figurine, but before he could entertain that thought further a text bubble popped up in reply.

‘No :(‘

Bruce sent a quick thumbs down emoji and popped his phone away, preventing himself from getting further distracted from the patrol and paid close attention to the trio of men who emerged from the alley below, trying to ignore how his whole mood had shifted since receiving that last text.

Hours later a slightly achy Bruce made his way up from the cave and was greeted with the sight of Clark in his bed. He was lying on his side, broad back facing Bruce, body slowly rising and falling wrapped cosily in the sheet. He was also more or less in the middle of the bed, edging over onto Bruce’s side and if Bruce’s assumptions were correct, he would have swapped their pillows too. Clark told him it helped him sleep easier and Bruce wasn’t going to complain about the idea of Clark sleeping better when using his pillow. In fact, there was a certain part to Bruce, a selfish part that ignited at this fact.

The billionaire stripped bare as he often did for sleep, pulling the sheet back and smoothing over the mattress until he was flush against the reporter’s back. He rested his chin on Clark’s shoulders smelling the shampoo in his curls, the same shampoo that was used in the lake house. He liked how comfortable Clark was to use the lake house in his absence.

Closing his eyes, he began to drift off too, smirking to himself at how just like Clark, he himself slept easier around the other. It was a dangerous thing to care deeply for someone, and Bruce had sworn against it in his life, but Clark had already proven that Bruce had become jaded, stubborn to a fault in his ways in their short time together. Clark had restored hope, something that had once long left him, so Bruce tried to indulge in change and allow himself to be shaken from his rules and habits.

Just before he could settle further and sleep himself, he felt the body in his hold twist until he was facing Bruce.

“Morning.” Was yawned charmingly into the older man’s face in a way that would be annoying if it was anyone else, but it was Clark and Bruce was slowly becoming aware of just how much he felt for the man, so much so that things he would find annoying with anyone else were acceptable with Clark.

“Morning.” He spoke back softly, looking into those shining blue eyes. The same eyes that had flecks of brown, once more proving just how special the man in his arms was. The man who was a symbol of hope who Bruce stubbornly wouldn’t let stay dead, yet the same man who would claim he was just a normal midwestern guy and funnily enough he was both that and not simultaneously.

“I’m sorry about the figurine.” Bruce would be lying if he said he didn’t have that damn ornament on his mind for the rest of the patrol, as gaudy as it looked it brought Clark happiness and he deserved that.

“It’s ok.” The younger man’s brow knitted in thought, contrasting his face which was still soft from sleep. “I mean I got lucky in the past; some people have missed out on every drop so the fact I got any at all was lucky.”

Bruce shot a quirked eyebrow back at him, the way he had chatted his ear off all week since the announcement of the drop and yet still so gracious in defeat. Acting as if it was not a big deal, that he was not upset even though he clearly must be if his starting to water eyes indicated, simply to not burden Bruce with his upset.

“I mean yeah, sure I really wanted it, and I did get sad, but I don’t wanna be spoilt, like I said I did get a few of the other drops a few months back.” Bruce had laced their fingers together with one of each of their hands as they talked, facing each other cosy in each other‘s embrace.

“Ah, I see.” He pushed some loose curls back with his free hand and rested it gently against Clark’s face who leaned into the touch. “So, I guess if you’re ok, I should cancel my order for the cow figurine?”

Clark’s face was a picture and Bruce couldn’t help but smile as the younger man’s face went from attentive listening to shocked excitement and then curiosity all within seconds.

“Wait, how?!” God, he was beautiful his eyes were so big and inquisitive, a man who could move mountains and yet be so soft in his arms and all worked up over a goddamn cow ornament.

“Baby, I’m Bruce Wayne.” He smirked big, enjoying the slight chaos that was unfolding. “I also may have bought it second hand off some scalpers on eBay-“ Clark’s face scrunched adorably in annoyance at that comment and his mouth opened to try to protest. “Hey! Wait! I can afford to do these things and I know this one was special, so it was worth it. I promise I won’t do it always but let me this time.” He brought their laced fingers to his lips and placed a kiss on them for extra flair.

“You’re lucky I really wanted this one, because I hate scalpers pricing. I mean I think they’re expensive really to begin with, but I do like them.” The reporter could not hide his smile nor excitement as he tried to converse, he was practically giddy in Bruce’s arms.

“That’s hardly a thank you.” The older man teased, barking a laugh at Clark’s shocked expression at being playfully referred to as ungrateful.

“Thank you, very much B.” He cooed softly as he leaned forward to place a quick kiss to Bruce’s lips. “You shouldn’t have but thank you.”

“Woah, I think you’re underestimating the value of these figurines.” Even though he had leaned into the kiss himself, Bruce was currently playing with Clark further. “I heard these things make a killing on the secondary market, a little kiss isn’t going to cut it as a thank you, baby” The billionaire caught the other’s gaze, glancing from Clark then to his crotch and back again a few times in succession which rewarded him with a playful slap against his chest.

“You’re such an ass.” He laughed, rolling himself over so he was straddled over Bruce, knees on either side of his hips, the older man’s wrists in his hands pressed against the pillows below as Clark leaned down to kiss him deeply. Following the kiss, he mouthed against greying stubble kissing down Bruce’s neck and scarred body.

Watching as the younger man slowly made his way even further down his body Bruce couldn’t help but think he was too harsh on the ornaments and maybe they were not as gaudy as he once thought.