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It had been a year since Kal-El last saw Bruce. He would have liked the memory to be a pleasant one, but he had only memories of disagreements, shouting and insulting comments that had destroyed the relationship that had taken years to build. However, when he saw the Omega standing near the window of his room, stealthily, as if he were not the most wanted man in the world, Kal-El couldn’t resist the feeling of happiness in his heart.
“Long time no see,” said Bruce.
“Bruce…”
The omega no longer looked anything like Brucie Wayne, nor was there much of Batman in him; Bruce looked like another person who reminded him of an old love. Kal-El approached. Bruce was still giving off that dewy scent that had driven him crazy so many times. Even now, after a year had passed and after the bond had been broken, he was still seducing him as if it were the first time. So he was going to bend down, touch him, run his nose along his neck, brush the scar of a mark that had been his, a whimper stopped him. Finally, the bundle in Bruce's arms caught his eye. As the Omega moves, the blanket falls away to reveal the frowning baby.
“I can't keep him, Kal.”
The alpha took a step back. A year had passed. Bruce had had the time to forget him, to fall in love with someone else, to give the family to a stranger he had promised to him in other times when their differences had not yet divided the world.
“Is that yours?”
“And yours, yeah. Whatever, I can’t keep him.”
Kal-El frowned.
He took a step forward as Bruce let go of the baby, ready to hold it for him. But he didn't reach out to touch it, nor did the baby fall to the ground as gravity dictated. The Baby floated, giggling at his playfulness, and rolled in the air, waving its little hands at Bruce, who didn't take too long to wrap it up in a hug.
“I can’t control him. I don’t know how your parents did it with you, but I don’t have the tip.”
Bruce handed the baby to Kal-El. He was so tiny between his hands, it was as if he had a little Bruce, a little Kal-El; he had dreamed of this moment so many times that it seemed surreal now. Kal-El held his son - and it was such a pleasant thought - with one hand, letting the little boy distract him by putting his tiny fingers in his hair and pulling him, trying to put him in his mouth with such strength that he could only have inherited it from him.
“Bruce…”
He raised his hand toward the Omega, and though the Omega took a step back, he reached up to grab his shirt and pull him toward him. He waited for a rebuff, a shove, an insult, something to tell him to back off, but Bruce let himself be hugged. Kal-El pressed him against his side as he used to do when they were alone, kissing him on the forehead, no less lovingly than when they were bound together.
“Stay with me,” Kal-El said.
“No. This does not change anything. It just puts something in the middle... A truce.”
“What happens if I don't let you go?” Bruce shuddered in her arms.
“I have been studying this possibility.”
“Have you found a solution?”
“You always do what you want.”
That night, when Kal-El had the chance to hold him in his bed again, to watch him sleep after all these months, to place a new bond mark on his neck, he realized that he had not held him. In fact, he knew that Bruce had not even intended to escape.