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“Good evening, Master Bruce,” Alfred says in greeting the moment Bruce enters the kitchen. “How was the fundraiser?”
“Okay,” Bruce answers, not sure how else to describe the evening. As a Gotham socialite, he’s more than used to attending fundraisers, especially those held by other socialites. But despite the years of practice, he sometimes still feels out of place and uncomfortable with all the socializing he has to do as Brucie Wayne. Although Veronica Vreeland’s fashion show turned out to be a great venue for a fundraiser, Bruce wouldn’t say he had the most pleasant evening.
“I see,” Alfred replies, not pushing for a more detailed description. “Shall I warm up a bowl of the soup I made for Dick and myself or were you sufficiently fed?”
“I’m okay, thank you,” he says. He ate a lot during the party, knowing he would be leaving almost as soon as he got back to the Manor. He didn’t want to be late going out for patrol. “Do you know where Dick is?”
“I believe he is in the library, or at least that is where he told me he would be an hour ago,” Alfred replies, as he starts to dry off the dishes he’s just finished washing.
Bruce hums in response. It’s unusual for Dick to be in the library, he normally spends his free time playing video games in his room or training down in the Cave. He only ever goes to the library to work on homework. And it’s very unlike Dick not to finish his homework before the start of the weekend; it’s a standing agreement between them that Dick is to finish all of his homework Friday afternoon if he wants to stay out extra late on Saturday night patrols.
“Master Dick finished his homework yesterday after school, as per the agreement. It rather looked to me like he was working on an arts and crafts project,” Alfred supplies, surprising Bruce with his ability to read his thoughts. “Perhaps you should go see if he wants any company.”
“Thank you,” Bruce replies before leaving the kitchen and making a beeline for the library.
As soon as Bruce enters the room, it’s obvious that Dick isn’t working on any old arts and crafts project. The table in the center of the library is covered with pink and red craft paper, markers and an impressive array of heart-shaped stickers. Bruce had honestly forgotten that Valentine’s Day was on Monday.
“Hi, B!” Dick exclaims excitedly as soon as he spots Bruce hovering near the door. “Are you heading out for patrol now?”
“Soon,” Bruce answers, walking over to inspect Dick's handiwork. He’s already accumulated an impressive stack of cards; and from the looks of it, they all seem to be sporting personalized designs.
“I can’t join you tonight, I have to finish my cards,” Dick tells him, having turned his attention back to decorating the cover of the card.
Bruce hums in acknowledgement. This project must mean a lot to Dick, he’s never turned down joining him for Saturday night patrol. Even when Dick is sick, Bruce has to force him to take the night off.
“You’re making a lot of cards,” Bruce remarks after watching Dick work for a couple of minutes. There are only twenty-one students in Dick’s class; he knows because he had checked (hacked) the class roster when Dick started the school year.
“Yeah! I’m making fifty cards!” Dick proudly proclaims. “One for everyone in my class and one for everyone in Mrs. Hughes's sixth-grade class. I also made one for my teacher, Mr. Cruz, another one for Mrs. Hughes, and then some for the secretary, the principal, the lunch ladies, the librarian and the janitor.”
“I’m sure they’ll appreciate them,” Bruce says, picking up a card from the top of the pile to inspect it.
“Do you have time to help me before you go?”
Bruce pauses in his inspection, unsure of what to answer. He’s not sure he’d be much help. As a child, he only ever signed the pre-made Valentine’s Day cards his mom bought from the store to give to his classmates. After his parents passed, he didn’t bother celebrating Valentine’s Day anymore; what was the point of celebrating love when the people he loved the most were buried six feet under?
But this is exactly the kind of thing Alfred is always telling him to do; spending time with Dick and doing non-bat-related activities goes a long way in showing that he cares.
“I’m not very good at decorating,” Bruce replies honestly. “But I can help if you want me to.”
“Of course I do! You have really pretty handwriting, you could write the messages inside the cards for me!” Dick exclaims, looking back up from his work. He stands up in his seat and reaches across the table to grab a sheet of paper. “Look, I already made the list with everyone’s name. Just show me the card and I’ll tell you who I made it for. You don’t have to write a lot; just “Happy Valentine’s Day!” and then write down one of the puns I came up with. I’ll sign my name after.”
“Puns?” Bruce asks, feeling the start of a smile tugging at his lips.
“Yes! I asked Alfred to show me some examples of Valentine’s Day cards the last time we were at the store. And I noticed that most of the cards have either a declaration of love or a funny joke. And I don’t love everyone at school, but I like them, so I thought I’d come up with a pun for everyone,” Dick rambles on, passing the list over to Bruce.
“So what am I writing for Anna Pye?” Bruce asks, reading out the first name on the list.
“I like you crust the way you are!” Dick proudly exclaims. “You know, because her last name reminds me of pie.”
“Burt Gregg?”
“The world needs s’more people like you!” he says without missing a beat. “I once overheard Burt telling his friend that he enjoys making s’mores whenever he goes camping with his parents.”
Bruce is impressed by Dick’s memorization skills and attention to detail. “What about Mr. Smith, the janitor?” he can’t stop himself from asking, amused by Dick’s creativity.
“I think you’re marbleous!” he recites, flashing Bruce a cheeky little grin.
“Why marbles?” Bruce asks, needing to satisfy his innate curiosity.
“Mr. Smith collects marbles! I found out because I offered to help him clean up one day after school, you know that time when Alfred was sick and I had to wait for you to pick me up but you were stuck in a meeting?”
Dick doesn’t give Bruce a chance to answer before continuing his excited explanation. “Well, when we finished, he let me wait for you in his office and I noticed he grabbed something from his pocket and placed it in one of the drawers of his desk. When I asked him what it was, he told me that he’s been collecting marbles ever since he was a kid and when he finds lost marbles on the school grounds, he adds them to his collection unless someone comes to claim them.”
“I’m sure everyone will appreciate your cards and well-thought-out puns, chum.”
Bruce’s confession is rewarded with the most dazzling and happy smile. “Thanks, Bruce!”
“What colour pen do you want me to use?”
Dick is quick to get Bruce set up with the supplies he needs. Bruce takes his time, carefully printing out all the words in a neat fashion. For once, Batman’s need to head out for patrol takes a backseat, because love is making time to spend with the ones you love.
“Thank you, Lucius, I’ll see you on Monday,” Bruce says before hanging up the call with his business manager. He makes a mental note to increase Lucius’ bonus at the end of the year; Bruce is always grateful when Lucius steps in to cover for him.
“You’re really taking the day off cause of me? Don’t you play hooky enough as it is?” Jason huffs angrily, but with how stuffy his nose is, it doesn’t sound as annoyed as it was probably meant to be. Plus, with the way Jason is bundled up in a blanket like a burrito, miserably sprawled on the den’s comfiest couch, it’s hard to take him seriously.
Either way, Bruce doesn’t think Jason is really annoyed to begin with. Well, he’s probably incredibly annoyed to have caught the flu from one of his classmates, but Bruce gets the impression that Jason is only faking it when it comes to his disapproval of Bruce’s decision to skip work and care for him. It’s Jason’s first time being sick since moving into the Manor and Bruce can only assume how Jason’s feeling. But if it’s anything like how he and Dick felt the first time they went through the experience of being sick after their respective parent's death, Jason might need Bruce’s company.
“Playing hooky is one of the perks of being your own boss,” Bruce replies.
“I’ll get you sick! Don’t you have a hot date tonight with a model or something? You can’t cancel because of me!” Jason replies, a bit frantically.
“Actually, you’ll be doing me a favour by letting me cancel. I’m only going out to maintain my eccentric, playboy persona and I think my reputation will survive taking the night off.”
His joke earns him a small chuckle from Jason. “Yeah, it’s going to take a lot more than that to destroy Brucie Wayne’s image.”
Bruce walks over to the couch and places his hand on Jason’s forehead, waiting a couple of seconds before pulling back. “You’ve still got a fever. Do you think you can eat a little bit of something so that you don’t take your medication on an empty stomach?”
“Not if it’s something you’re cooking,” Jason banters halfheartedly.
“How about some yogurt with fresh fruits? It’ll be cold and soft, which might help soothe your throat.”
“Okay.”
“Why don’t you pick something for us to watch?” Bruce proposes as he starts to walk out of the room.
Jason opens his mouth to respond but is cut off by a loud, wet coughing fit. Bruce waits for Jason to catch his breath.
“I’m not going to die just because you’re not sitting beside me all day,” Jason exclaims, still slightly winded. “I’m sure you have a pile of work higher than Mt. Kilimanjaro waiting for you in your office.”
“It’s probably closer to Mt. Everest, but it can wait. I’d rather spend my day off with you, it’s much more rewarding and fun.”
“Well, I’m not watching reruns of Gray Ghost with you,” Jason grumbles. But Bruce sees the way he is looking away in embarrassment; he’s clearly touched that Bruce is staying with him.
Bruce smiles fondly. “Choose something you want to watch. Isn’t there a movie that just came out based on a book you love?”
“Urgh, no, we’re not watching it. I can tell just from the trailer that it’s going to be a horrible adaptation.”
“More the reason for us to watch it! You can tell me everything they did wrong!”
This catches Jason’s attention, his eyes darting back over to Bruce to study him.
“You willingly want to listen to me talk shit about crap book adaptions?” Jason asks a bit skeptically.
“Yes, I want to hear your opinions,” Bruce confirms, glossing over Jason’s choice of words. The swear jar shouldn’t apply when sick; what Alfred doesn’t know won’t kill him.
“It’s your funeral,” Jason replies, finally reaching over for the remote. “I hope you’re prepared 'cause I’m not going to hold back.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, Jaylad.”
Between naps, meals and doses of medicine, Jason and Bruce watch several poorly adapted book-to-movie romances. Jason only gets sicker as the day goes on and it isn’t long before Bruce starts feeling feverish himself. But Bruce doesn’t regret spending Valentine’s Day this way; because love is finding comfort in uncomfortable times.
“Master Tim, will you be staying for dinner?” Alfred asks the moment Bruce and Tim step out of the locker room. They’ve just returned from a chaotic patrol. Whenever a holiday rolls around, the rogues of Gotham take it as an invitation to team up or showcase their latest, ridiculously extravagant plot to get Batman’s attention.
And it just so happens that Penguin and Mr. Freeze felt Valentine’s Day was the best day to make a joint attack on the Gotham City Zoo. They attacked just before the zoo closed for the day, causing Bruce and Tim to suit up earlier than usual. It had taken Robin several hours to track down all the penguins that had been released while Batman had worked on recuperating the various cell samples Mr. Freeze had stolen from the zoo’s research lab.
“I’ve taken the liberty of warming up the lasagna I made earlier,” Alfred continues, waiting for Tim to answer. “And I thought it would be a fitting night to indulge in some chocolate-covered strawberries for dessert.”
“Um,” Tim stutters.
Bruce glances over at Tim and is surprised by the expression he finds painted on the young boy's face; nervousness.
“That’s okay, Alfred. I’m not hungry,” Tim flounders at the exact time his stomach loudly growls.
“Very well,” Alfred replies, without skipping a beat. But Bruce knows that Alfred can tell that Tim is lying and from the look he not-so-discreetly directs at Bruce, Alfred expects Bruce to confront Tim about it. “You’ll find the food in the oven, Master Bruce. Don’t forget to turn it off when you’re done. I wish you both goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Alfred,” Tim answers, looking a tad more relaxed, but still not as much as Bruce would like.
Bruce waits until Alfred is out of earshot before turning to address his Robin. “Are you sure you don’t want to come up, even if you’re not hungry, I could use the company.”
“No, it’s okay, I ate a really big—” Tim starts to automatically reply before cutting himself off. “Wait, what?”
There’s a part of Bruce that desperately wants to ask Tim why he’s lying about not being hungry. But he knows that interrogating Tim will only cause the boy more discomfort, and Bruce already can’t understand why the idea of staying for supper is making Tim nervous. So instead, he fights his innate desire to know everything and simply repeats his request. “I’d like to spend some time with you, I feel like we haven’t had a chance to catch up recently.”
“But it’s Valentine’s Day,” Tim replies as if it’s the most logical explanation he could have given.
“Technically, Valentine’s Day ended two hours ago,” Bruce answers, unsure where Tim is going with this.
“But don’t you have... I mean, you don’t really want to spend it with me, do you?”
Tim’s question knocks the wind out of Bruce.
Unfortunately, he now knows why Tim is so thrown off by his invitation. Tim, ever the observant detective, has probably already worked out that, in the past, Bruce used to spend a lot of time with Dick and Jason on Valentine’s Day. But more importantly, since Jason’s died and Dick has been living in Blüdhaven, Bruce has completely ignored the holiday. And last year, the first Valentine’s Day Tim spent alongside Batman, was no exception. Bruce was in a dark place in the year after Jason’s death and spending time with Tim had brought up too many memories of nights spent watching movies with Jason or decorating cards with Dick. So lost in his grief, Bruce had ignored Valentine’s Day and in the process, Tim.
But Bruce isn’t the same person he was a year ago. And it’s now up to him to prove that to Tim and make up for it.
“Yes, Tim, I want to spend time with you,” Bruce says firmly, hoping it doesn’t come off as stern or exasperated; he’s just trying to make sure Tim understands him, even though he might not be using the proper words to explain his reasoning.
“Oh, okay,” Tim says after a moment of silence. “I guess I am a little bit hungry. Let me just go grab my stuff.”
As he watches Tim run back into the locker room, Bruce feels the corner of his mouth quirk up as he tries to bite back a smile at Tim’s admission; his stomach sounds more than just a little bit hungry.
“Let’s go get that lasagna out of the oven before Alfred gets out of bed and does it himself,” Bruce says, leading Tim out of the cave once he’s come back from collecting his bag and coat. “Do you happen to have your camera with you?”
“Yes, why?” Tim asks, instinctively hugging his bag closer to his chest.
“I thought you could show me some of the most recent pictures you’ve taken.”
“Really!” Tim replies optimistically. “I have some really good ones I took of the sunset when I was at the library last week.”
“I’d love to see them, I always like looking at the pictures you take,” Bruce admits sincerely, vowing to himself to remind Tim of that more often in the future. “Maybe you could print out a couple of them so I can have them framed and put on my desk at work?”
The smile that lights up Tim’s face is worth a million dollars, and Bruce knows he’ll do anything to see it more often. Because love is about prioritizing someone and delighting in the things that make them unique.
“Welcome to Flora’s Flower Shop, are you here to pick up an order?” the woman asks as soon as the bell above the front door rings. Her back is to the door as she rummages through a mountain of already-made bouquets and other floral arrangements.
“No, but I was hoping you could help me put together a bouquet?” Bruce asks as he steps further into the store. He’s never been to this flower shop before; but in all honestly, he hasn’t set foot in many flower shops. Normally Alfred is the one who orders any bouquets that Bruce needs. But tonight, it felt important for Bruce to be the one to pick out the flowers.
“I’m afraid we don’t have much of a selection. We got cleared out by last-minute Valentine’s Day shoppers,” the woman replies, turning around to face him. “I hope you’re also not looking for roses for a— Oh, Mr. Wayne!” she exclaims in recognition, cutting herself off in embarrassment.
“Lucky for you, I don’t need roses,” Bruce answers, brushing off her reaction and giving her a warm smile. “Are you Flora?”
“Oh no, that’s my grandmother. I’m Lilly, I know very original for a girl who works at a flower shop,” she chuckles dryly, a fact she’s probably only supplied because she’s heard the joke about her name one too many times. “Anyways, what can I help you with?”
“I’m looking to put together a bouquet but I’m not sure I know much about the meaning of flowers.”
“I can help with that,” Lilly says, walking out from behind the counter and joining Bruce near the displays of fresh flowers. “What’s the occasion?”
“It’s for my daughter, I’m taking her out to see a performance of Swan Lake,” Bruce replies, matter-of-factly.
“Okay, so something that isn’t too cumbersome since she’ll have to lug around all night,” Lilly supplies, her eyes already examining her remaining supplies of flowers. “Any particular message you want these flowers to send?”
“Uh, that I’m proud of her. That she makes me happy and that I love her,” Bruce answers, tripping over his words a little bit. He’s suddenly feeling a bit shy to be confessing all of this to a stranger.
“Okay, I can work it that. What’s your budget— Oh god, that was a dumb question,” Lilly groans out in embarrassment.
“I appreciate you asking, but you don’t need to worry about a budget,” Bruce replies, trying to hold back a smile as he feels his nerves fade away. “I trust your judgement, you can decorate it however you like.”
Twenty minutes later, and after having left a large tip to thank Lilly for her help, Bruce is back in the car and driving to Barbara’s apartment. Cass slept over as she had been out later than usual that night patrolling and hadn’t felt like making the trek back to Bristol.
When he pulls onto Barbara’s street, he parallel parks and turns the car off as he waits. He doesn’t bother pulling out his cell phone to text Cass, knowing that between her observation skills and Barbara’s security system, there is no way that they won’t already know that he’s arrived.
Instead, Bruce removes the bouquet from where he safely tucked it in the passenger seat. He takes the time to study it, committing to memory the detailed explanations Lilly had supplied regarding her flower choices. The red amaryllises represent Bruce’s pride in Cass. Like with all of his children, Bruce is proud of everything Cass does; both as a vigilante and as his daughter. The white carnations symbolize pure love, something that he’s felt since the moment Cass entered his life. Finally, the yellow lilies represent the happiness Bruce feels every time he thinks of his daughter.
The sound of the passenger door opening pulls Bruce out of his thoughts. Cass is quick as she gracefully slides into the car, making sure to properly close the door behind her once she’s settled in her seat.
She’s wearing a beautiful, dark blue, evening gown and he hair is done up in a bun, similar to the style she wears when she does ballet. Bruce also recognizes some of the jewelry she’s wearing as pieces he’s bought her as birthday gifts.
Bruce can’t help but beam with pride at his beautiful daughter.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Cass,” Bruce says in greeting, handing her the bouquet.
A large smile breaks out on Cass’ face as she accepts the flowers from Bruce.
He watches as she takes the time to touch, smell and inspect the different types of flowers. When she is done, she carefully deposits the bouquet on the dashboard and then leans over the center control to envelop him in a hug. Bruce doesn’t hesitate to wrap his large arms around her tiny frame.
They stay wrapped in each other's embrace for a couple of seconds, the silence in the car comfortable. Because sometimes, words aren’t needed to express one's love.
Bruce isn’t surprised to see that Damian is waiting for him at the Batcomputer. He’s already in his Robin uniform and if Bruce knows his son, he knows that Damian has already stretched and warmed up for patrol. Just like every other time that Bruce has gone to a Justice League meeting when none of Damian’s siblings are around to accompany him on patrol, Damian impatiently waits in the Cave for Bruce to return.
“Father,” Damian says in greeting as Bruce walks over to join him near the console. “The meeting does not seem to have lasted as long as usual. You must have been able to run it properly without any inane interruptions,” he remarks, but Bruce can read between the lines. Damian is glad that Bruce is back earlier than planned.
“It went well,” Bruce replies, choosing not to elaborate on the fact that Green Lantern and Booster Gold were indeed both not in attendance tonight. Damian doesn’t need more ammunition to use in his critique of the efficiency of certain members of the League. “Before we head out for patrol, I’m supposed to give this to you,” Bruce says instead, pulling out an envelope from his utility belt and handing it to Damian.
“Who is it from?” Damian questions, eyeing the envelope with uncertainty.
“Jon. He asked Clark to give it to me since he won’t see you tomorrow,” Bruce answers, knowing that Damian will appreciate the full report.
Damian finally grabs the envelope and tears it open. “Valentine’s Day is tomorrow,” he remarks.
Bruce hums in agreement, not sure what else to respond. Instead, he waits for Damian to finish reading whatever Jon has written in the letter. If Jon is anything like his father, Bruce can only imagine that the letter’s contents are similar to the sappy and corny messages he’s received from Clark over the years.
“I thought Valentine’s Day was a celebration of romance, not friendship,” Damian replies as he carefully folds the letter and slides it back into the envelope.
“Friendships are also founded in love,” Bruce answers.
“Well, if Jon loved me like a friend, he would not have wasted his time in writing a corny message and decorating a childish card; he should have known I would not have liked it.”
Bruce nods, stalling for time. He feels out of his depth here; his kids don’t normally come to him for advice, especially when it comes to friendship. But he pushes through his discomfort. “I think Jon’s a lot like his father, words of affirmation are Clark’s way of showing how he cares about someone. It’s his love language.”
“I do not wish to hear about your relationship with Kent,” Damian declares, his face scrunching up in disgust.
Bruce cracks a small smile at Damian’s reaction. It’s similar to the reactions he’s gotten from the majority of his kids ever since he broke the news that he started dating Clark a couple of months after his divorce from Lois. They’re all happy for him but want to be spared the details (not that Bruce planned on sharing any with them).
“Jon is probably just trying to convey his gratefulness for your friendship and he’s expressing it in the way he knows best,” Bruce explains, hoping he’s properly interpreting the situation. It’s hard to do so without all the facts.
“I suppose that is acceptable,” Damian finally relinquishes. “But I will not be writing him back in return.”
“That’s fine, Damian,” Bruce confirms. “Are you ready to leave?”
“Yes,” Damian replies, a tad less enthusiastically than Bruce expected. But still, he makes his way to the Batmobile, climbing into the passenger seat as he waits for Bruce to join him.
The ride into Gotham is relatively quiet, only the sound of the engine drowns out the silence of the car.
“Does everyone have a love language,” Damian suddenly asks. The callback to the conversation Bruce had thought shut down by Damian himself surprises Bruce; Damian doesn’t often open up about his feelings.
“Yes. There are five different ones; words of affirmation, acts of service, receiving gifts, quality time and physical touch,” Bruce says, remembering a list he read years ago in an article in the Daily Planet . “Love languages are methods used for receiving and expressing love.”
“Which one is yours?” Damian asks as casually as if he were asking Bruce what his favourite colour is.
“Um,” Bruce stutters against his will. He thought Damian didn’t want to know about his relationship with Clark.
“Never mind,” Damian quickly says, realizing what he was asking. “How do I know what mine is?”
“There’s no test to determine it,” Bruce supplies, why Damian is asking; he asked himself the same question when he first started dating. “But, based on what I know about you, I think you express your love by gift-giving.”
“Tt,” Damian replies, quick to dismiss Bruce’s observation. “I do not buy presents for anybody.”
“Gift giving doesn’t always have to be gifts that you buy for others. Think of your drawings,” Bruce replies, hoping he’s expressing himself properly.
Damian raises an eyebrow but otherwise remains silent, waiting for Bruce to finish speaking.
“You put a lot of work into the drawings you sketch. They are always detailed and they often depict stuff that is important to whomever you’re gifting it to. There must be a reason you take the time to draw them for your friends and family.”
“I will not have sufficient time to draw something for Jon if I am to return a gift in thanks for his card,” Damian says. “And I do not wish to buy him the traditional gifts given on Valentine’s Day; chocolate is not vegan and I do not like giving bouquets of dying flowers.”
“Receiving a gift doesn’t mean you’re obligated to return the favour,” Bruce finds himself answering.
“If I do not return the favour, would Jon not be under the impression that I do not appreciate his friendship? It seems ill-advised to upset a friend, especially one as childish and powerful as Superboy.”
Bruce chooses to ignore Damian’s last remark but knows there is a compliment about Jon hidden in there somewhere. “Why don’t you gift him something you really love, that way he’ll know it comes from the heart.”
“Is that why Clark wears your shirts whenever he visits the Manor?”
“Why don’t you give Jon some of your favourite tea, the one Alfred gets you from England” Bruce stutters out; he’s definitely not acknowledging Damian’s observation. “Or better yet, why don’t you make him a personalized blend?”
Damian is silent for a while, probably pondering Bruce’s suggestion. Bruce uses the time to do a couple of breathing exercises. He’d almost forgotten how stressful conversations with teenagers can be. Not even being Batman can prepare you for the curveball conversations that come from having heart-to-heart conversations with your children.
“Your suggestion is acceptable. But we will need to stop by a store near Robinson Park, they have the ingredients I need to make Jon’s blend.”
Bruce makes an extremely illegal U-turn in the middle of the street. “Is it still open?”
“They close in thirty minutes,” Damian answers.
“Okay,” Bruce confirms as he drives to their new location.
Silence returns to the Batmobile, but it’s comfortable. Bruce doesn’t mind being left alone to his thoughts, he needs the time to process the conversation he’s just had. It’s not often that Damian opens up about his feelings. Bruce cherishes the trust Damian has shown him. He’s honoured because he knows that love is having the ability to trust and openly communicate, without the fear of judgment or rejection.
Clark considers himself to be a pretty good cook. He’s not as talented as his mother, but she had been the one to teach him, so he did pick up on some good tips along the way. The problem is that he normally cooks in his small and cozy kitchen; not in a kitchen that’s the size of his entire Metropolis apartment. He normally doesn’t have to wonder where his cooking supplies are hidden.
Managing to convince Alfred to let him use the kitchen in Wayne Manor to cook a surprise breakfast for Bruce had been a herculean task. Now, the last thing Clark wants to do is mess up Alfred’s organizational system. So he pays close attention to what he grabs and then carefully cleans and returns each item to its designated spot. It was a bit stressful, especially since he’s on a deadline; Bruce will be waking up any minute now. At least being familiar with the recipe bought him some time. Ma had been nice enough to lend him her famous pancake recipe.
Bruce’s kids are also out of the Manor this morning; it didn’t take much to convince them to vacate the area once he told them he was planning on surprising Bruce for Valentine’s Day. They did however each give him a present to pass along to Bruce.
Keeping all of this a secret from Bruce has been relatively easy. For the past three days, he’s been off-world on a mission with some other Justice League members, meaning that Clark had been able to come over to the Manor and talk to Bruce’s family without him knowing.
Just as Clark is double-checking that he has the pancakes, the bowl of freshly cut fruit, the syrup and a mug, he hears Bruce start to stir from his slumber. His breathing is picking up and he’s sleepily grumbling about the few rays of sunshine that have managed to infiltrate the darkness of his room.
Clark grabs the breakfast tray he’s prepared and secures the kid’s gifts before flying up the stairs. Within seconds, he’s floating in front of the door to Bruce’s bedroom. He knocks and waits for Bruce’s mumbled response before entering the room.
“Good morning, Bruce,” Clark greets, keeping his voice low, but cheery.
“If it’s still morning, then it’s not good,” Bruce grumbles, stubbornly refusing to open his eyes.
“It’s almost noon, so I think it counts,” Clark corrects, moving closer to the bed so he can set the tray down. “Plus, there’s only so long I can wait before serving you breakfast in bed. Lunch in bed doesn’t sound as romantic.”
At this comment, Bruce cracks open his eyes, inspecting his surroundings to see if Clark is lying.
“You didn’t have to do this for me,” Bruce softly says as he musters up the energy to push himself up into a sitting position. He leans against the headboard prompting Clark to place the tray over his legs.
“No, but I wanted to. Happy Valentine’s Day, B,” Clark replies, offering a smile.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Kal.”
Clark leans across the tray, capturing Bruce’s face in his hands and kissing him.
“Here, let me get some light in here so you can see your presents,” Clark says breaking up the kiss. He’s quick to cross the room and pull open the curtains. Bruce’s room is immediately bathed in warm rays of sunshine, a rare occasion for a cold February day, especially in Gotham.
“You didn’t have to get me all of this,” Bruce says, looking over all the gifts crowding his breakfast tray.
“I’m just the chef,” Clark answers, walking back to the huge king-size bed and sitting down.
Bruce is quiet as he inspects each item, giving them his full and undivided attention. But Clark doesn’t mind; he enjoys watching Bruce’s reaction. As it has always been when his kids are involved, Bruce isn’t as reserved and closed off when it comes to expressing his emotions.
Clark watches as Bruce picks up Dick’s handmade card. He knows the exact moment Bruce reads Dick’s pun, “You’re cereal-ously great!” because Bruce lets out a small and quiet chuckle.
Bruce then picks up a large manilla envelope which Clark knows contains a DVD case and a thick essay featuring Jason’s thoughts and opinions on the latest book-to-movie romantic comedies. With a look of pride, he places the envelope on his bedside table, probably intending to read the detailed essay the next time he has some free time.
Bruce's face then morphs into a fond smile as he flips through a small photo album gifted to him by Tim. Clark isn’t sure what kind of pictures Tim included, but it’s obvious that Bruce is enjoying them.
Next, he picks up the fresh bouquet that Cass dropped off early this morning. Clark isn’t as well-versed as his mother when it comes to knowing the meaning of flowers so he’s not sure how to interpret Cass’ selection. But as Bruce takes the time to inspect each flower carefully, he looks touched by Cass’s choice. He carefully places the bouquet beside him on the bed when he’s done and Clark makes a mental note for later to zip down to the kitchen to grab a vase.
Finally, Bruce grabs the small bag of tea from the tray. Clark can smell hints of cinnamon and almond coming from the personalized blend Damian made for his father. Bruce looks impressed as he reads the ingredients Damian carefully printed out on a label.
“I brought up a mug and some water. I can heat it up for you if you want to drink some of Damian’s tea with your breakfast,” Clark says once Bruce has finished looking over all of his gifts.
Bruce nods as he begins to scoop a spoonful of loose tea leaves into the infuser Clark also placed on the tray. He then passes the mug to Clark who starts to warm up the water, careful to not overheat the mug.
“Order up,” Clark says jokingly once the water is sufficiently hot enough. He places the mug back down on the tray and looks over at Bruce who started eating his breakfast.
“These are good,” Bruce tells him after swallowing a bite of pancake.
“It’s my Ma’s recipe,” Clark admits. “So I can’t take the credit, but I did make them myself.”
“Here?” Bruce replies, a hint of surprise in his voice.
“Yeah, I convinced Alfred to take the morning off and let me use his kitchen. I think I might have a successful career as a negotiator in the future.”
Bruce rolls his eyes at Clark’s joke, but Clark recognizes it as a sign of affection. “And I’m guessing the kids didn’t want to stick around for our Valentine’s Day breakfast?”
“No,” Clark chuckles. “It was the opposite of a negotiation when I mentioned my plans. But they all stopped by either last night or this morning to drop off their presents for you.”
Bruce hums in acknowledgement.
“I’m happy that they brought over their presents, I did feel a little bit bad highjacking Valentine’s Day from them,” Clark confesses.
At this, Bruce raises an eyebrow in confusion.
“It’s just that I know you normally spend Valentine’s Day with your kids. Don’t think I haven’t noticed all the traditions you’ve established with them over the years. I didn’t want to take that away from you just because we’re dating now,” Clark admits. “I’m glad they found a way to include themselves in the celebration.”
Bruce is quiet for a while, which doesn’t surprise Clark. He’s used to giving Bruce time to gather his thoughts.
“I love you, Clark,” Bruce suddenly admits, his voice gentle and sincere as he looks over all the gifts he’s received.
Clark smiles in response. “I love you too.”
Despite it all, Clark isn’t surprised by Bruce’s rare display of honesty and vulnerability. After all, true love is about letting all your emotions fly to the surface because you finally feel comfortable enough to let them out.