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It was, of course, an absolutely freezing day today. Bruce knew that for a fact; he had checked the weather conditions extensively before getting dragged outside.
Snow fell from the overcast sky, tracing lazy patterns as they drifted to the ground. It piled up on the manor grounds, atop the trees and over rocks, painting the manor in a beautiful white as picturesque as a winter wonderland.
Bruce hugged his jacket closer around him, his breaths forming puffs in the cold air as he watched the kids playing in the snow.
Dick and Damian were building snowmen together, who was somehow holding a sword in his stick hands.
Tim and Duke were building snow forts at opposite ends of the garden, while Jason and Cass were sneaking around throwing well-timed snowballs at whichever sibling was expecting it the least– including each other. It was surprising how a full-on snowball fight hadn’t occurred yet.
“Not gonna join them?” Clark asked, sidling up beside him.
He looked unfairly handsome despite the cold, cheeks tinted a charming pink and snow dotting his dark hair.
Bruce shot him an absolutely venomous glare, imaging the seventy six different ways he could separate his head from his body. The audacity of this man to act as if he hadn’t hauled Bruce out of the comforting warmth of the bed like a disobedient cat.
“No, Clark, I am not,” he growled.
Clark had known full well the state of the weather, and had brought him outside anyway.
Of course, Bruce was glad to be spending time with his family, but really? At these temperatures? Bruce would rather drug himself in ten pounds of fear gas.
“It is ten in the morning, I’m tired, and I’m freezing, which I would not be if you hadn’t forcefully dragged me outside.”
Clark rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, but Bruce knew that look on his face was anything but apologetic. In fact, he seemed rather smug.
Bruce scowled. “What?”
Clark beamed, then took off his jacket and draped it over him. He tilted his head in consideration for a moment, then without warning, he wrapped his arms around Bruce’s waist and pulled them flush together, chest to back, nuzzling his face on the crook of Bruce’s neck. Bruce froze for a moment, before relaxing into the embrace.
“How long have you been planning that one?” He asked, the fondness in his chest threatening to spill over into his voice. The way Clark kissed his cheek told him he had failed to keep it hidden.
“For a while. Since it started snowing, actually–” Clark paused, furrowing his eyebrows. “Or was it since the first time I saw you covered in snow, on top of a gargoyle while on a stakeout?”
Bruce huffed and rolled his eyes. “Sap.”
“Your sap,” he replied, and Bruce had to kiss him for that.
“The angle is a bit annoying,” he murmured, their breaths intermingling as they separated.
“Well,” Clark started, still grinning, “If you’re feeling warm enough yet, shall we join the kids?”
Bruce raised an eyebrow. “You want to join them? Now? Aren't there…” he deepened his voice, “Other things you’d rather be doing, in a warmer environment, in bed?”
“Oh my God,” Clark laughed, releasing him from the warm embrace, and Bruce stamped down on the feeling of loss.
“Bruce, please.”
Bruce smirked. “Yes?”
Clark leaned down, grabbed a fist full of snow, and lobbed it at his face.
Bruce spluttered, completely appalled at his partner’s betrayal. “You. Hit. Me?”
Clark’s grin froze. Understanding the danger to his life, Clark started backing away.
“Jason! Cass!” He hollered at the top of his lungs. Bruce grabbed a handful of snow, ignoring the chill that seeped through his gloves.
The kids dropped everything they were doing and stood up. Alliances were formed with the exchange of a glance, and they all grinned.
“You’re going to pay for that,” Bruce smiled sweetly, and the manor grounds devolved into a warzone.