Archive of Our Own

Whenever you hear or read stories about people falling in love, it’s usually a grandiose tale about how the two of them met, or how it was love at first sight, or some other dramatic event that led to the realization of their mutual feelings. Of course, those are the stories that people find exciting. No one really cares about every day occurrences. However, I like to believe, more often than not, when most people do fall in love, it’s something a little less theatrical and a bit more subtle…

“Wow, I’m surprised you actually came,” Clark unintentionally blurted when the darkly caped man sat in the chair across from him.

Before his arrival, Superman had been sitting at the table towards the back of the Tower’s cafeteria mindlessly flipping through the digital menu not even aware of Batman’s entrance.

“I told you that I would,” Bruce replied flatly. As usual, both his eyes and tone were unreadable.

Clark let out a nervous laugh. Not exactly sure what to say, he started to babble out the first thing that came to mind. “It’s just in the past when I invited you to eat with me, you always declined.”

“Yes, and that is the difference between then and now. In the past, I declined and didn’t come. This time I said I would join you, and I did.”

Clark’s eyes drifted sheepishly towards the table. “Yeah, I guess you did. I shouldn’t have doubted you…”

Clark finally redirected his gaze back at Bruce and gave him a questioning glance. “I guess it’s less that it was doubt and more me wondering what changed your mind.”

“The fact that I’m actually hungry,” Bruce replied with the same frank look that Superman recognized all too well.

“Oh yeah, right,” Clark chuckled as he started to fiddle with the console at their table so he could avoid Batman’s critical stare. “So what will you be having? You know they have a beef bourgeois that is to die for. I was surprised the cafeteria even had it on the menu, but I’m glad they do. It’s my favorite!

“I am aware.”

Clark stopped flipping through the screens and raised his eyes up to look directly at his companion. It was hard to tell through his cowl, but he was almost certain that Bruce was trying to feign a coy expression.

“I see…” Clark smiled, as he suddenly remembered Bruce was one of the people in charge of deciding the cafeteria’s menu. “Of course you are.”

Not missing Clark’s faint smirk, Bruce let out a strained sound and huffed. “Fine, Superman, I’ll take your suggestion, so let’s just eat. I didn’t exactly come here to chit chat.”

“Haha, okay,” Clark laughed lightly as he placed their order.

“Wow, this almost feels like a stakeout,” Clark yawned as he slightly shifted his weight against the wall he was leaning on for the third time that night.

“That’s because it practically is,” Bruce muttered, his eyes ever vigilantly watching the building across from them. Several hours had already passed with the two heroes observing the establishment, waiting on the intergalactic arms dealers who dared to make a trade on Earth. There was still some time before their designated arrival, but Bruce had insisted the team check out the place prior to their appearance in order to get a better layout of the area and just in case the time they were given was false.

Clark cocked his head to the side before his eyes suddenly caught something that was currently of more interest to him. “Hmm, well how about I get us some coffee from the stand over there? You know, keep in the spirit of staking out.”

“And I bet you would like some donuts as well,” Bruce drawled not even bothering to look at Clark.

Clark’s face perked up. “They have donuts too?”

Bruce clenched his jaw as though he were biting back a remark before responding. “No, but I’ll pass regardless.”

“Really? It’ll be my treat.”

Finally, Bruce let out an agitated sigh and slightly turned his head so Clark could see his disapproving frown. “Superman, I don’t like instant coffee, and I can tell from the machine that vendor is using, that’s what it is. So as I already once said, I don’t want any.”

Clark’s shoulders drooped and his expression fell. “Aww, too bad. I just wanted to treat you, but I understand.”

Once again, the air grew silent but the atmosphere was now a bit heavy. Bruce glanced at Clark through his peripherals, the dejected hero slumped against the wall staring off at nothing. Bruce exhaled deeply before eventually muttering. “Fine, if it will get you to stop moping, feel free to treat me to some coffee after this mission is over, but I’m picking a place that doesn’t serve weak powdered swill.”

Instantly the rooftop brightened back up as the hero stood tall again and smiled. “Really? Great! Then it’s a date!”

Batman shrugged with indifference but was glad he had his back to Clark. For some reason, he couldn’t quite get his lips to turn back down to their usual scowl.

“Hello Mr. Wayne,” Clark greeted. He then slightly readjusted his glasses which had slightly become skewed when Bruce quite literally ran into him.

Currently the billionaire was surrounded by a group of scantily dressed women, some accompanied by disgruntled dates who didn’t seem pleased with their shameless flirting, and others who more than likely came on their own for the sole purpose of trying to hook up with the man.

Clark was just about to take his seat before Bruce bumped into him so hard, he flew back a few steps and spilled his drink on the woman who had her arms wrapped around his waist causing her to finally release him.

Clark pretended to lose his balance as well to make the collision look more believable before turning to address the man.

“Hello there, er…Kemp?” Bruce chuckled with a foppish grin.

“Kent,” Clark corrected firmly.

“Ah, of course,” Bruce grinned with yet another flamboyant laugh. “I’m always so bad at remembering reporter’s names. After a while, you all start looking the same.”

Bruce’s entire party broke into laughter at the comment that was made at the reporter’s expense before Bruce abruptly ended the conversation by walking off, leaving a slightly flustered Clark behind.

“Oh my, it would appear we have one too many members in our party to fit at this table,” one of the women fussed.

“Well, then I suppose I will sit somewhere else,” Bruce immediately offered.

“Oh no, Brucie!”

“Don’t go!”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to break any of you ladies up, or make you have to decide who has to stay or leave when I can gladly be the sacrificial lamb,” Bruce reasoned as he waved his hands and smiled at them reassuringly. “Besides, I don’t think I would pay much attention to the Mayor’s speech if I sit with you lovely distractions.”

The women continued to frown back at Bruce with little assurance to which Bruce sighed in defeat and decided to change his offer. “After this speech is over, let’s meet back at the bar. My treat of course. Besides, Mr. Kemp over there is looking rather lonely sitting all by himself. I think I’ll grace him with my company. He probably needs the morale boost.”

Suddenly the women’s faces lit back up as the started to coo and praise Bruce.

“Brucie you're always so sweet.”

“Alright, I guess we can deal without your company for a short time.”

Clark was scratching something down on his flip pad before a familiar voice sounded above him.

“This seat taken?”

“Nope, it’s specially reserved for morale boosting grace accompaniers,” Clark replied curtly.

“Haha, you heard that,” Bruce lightly laughed as he sat down, his face looking genuinely amused this time rather than how it did during his earlier shallow performance.

“I have good ears,” Clark shrugged.

“Well, honestly, I’d rather be sitting here with you than them,” Bruce groaned as he began to tug at his collar a bit in an attempt to loosen his tie without making it look sloppy. “The company is much better, and I feel like I can actually breath.”

“You live such a tough life,” Clark muttered as he continued to scribble down some notes.

“So, is it a coincidence that you were exactly one seat shy of fitting at your table, and I just so happen to be at the one right next to it,” Clark questioned, his eyes still cast down on his paper.

“What do you think?” Bruce asked as he furrowed his brow and started to glance at what Clark was writing. The only thing he managed to make out was his own name and the word ‘Asshole,’ before Clark suddenly flipped the pad shut and frowned back at the man.

“How did you know I’d be sitting alone?”

Bruce looked off to the side. “Because I know you value breathing room as much as I do.”

Clark smirked, though it was a little less pleasant than what Bruce was used to seeing. “Now it’s starting to make more sense why I was even invited to this event, albeit I had to come for work. Still, way to waste my Friday night, Bruce.”

An uncomfortable silence followed, Bruce still avoiding Clark’s glare before he suddenly coughed and responded. “Then I suppose I will have to make it up to you and see to it that this night is worthwhile for you after all.”

Clark raised his brow and waited.

“How about after this boring speech, we leave, and get a drink? I know of a nice quiet bar not too far from here with plenty of breathing room.”

“What about your adoring fans?” Clark droned as he motioned his head towards the table just in front of them.

“I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I have an ulterior motive for wanting to leave right after the speech. I actually would leave sooner, but I know you at least need to cover it.”

Clark’s smile softened before it transformed to something a little more playful.

“Fine, but you’re buying,” Clark snapped as he pointed at Bruce with his pen.

“Of course. Then it’s a date,” Bruce chuckled already more than aware that Clark didn’t actually drink considering the alcohol had no effect on him.

“Well?”

Bruce looked back at the man who was staring at him pensively. “Well what?”

Clark let out an impatient sound. “How does it taste?

Bruce took another bite before replying. “It’s okay.”

Clark’s nose crinkled. “Just okay?”

“Yeah.”

“No way!” Clark exclaimed. “These are hands down, the best chili dogs to ever hit the street scene.”

Currently the two men were walking down a busy Metropolis street, Bruce dressed in an uncharacteristically casual polo shirt with khakis and a pair of shades, trying desperately to blend in with the crowd. Somehow, the Metropolis reporter had convinced the man to try a local street cart in order to settle a pointless debate he could hardly remember them starting.

“If you say so,” Bruce shrugged.

“So you’ve had better?”

Bruce glanced at the incredulous looking Kryptonian with a knowing smile. “I have, and if you like, I will prove it to you. On your next day off, meet me in Gotham, and I’ll take you to a little place in New York that is sure to blow your taste buds.”

“Fine then!” Clark shouted with a look of determination. “It’s a date!”

“You can cook?”

Batman glared back at Superman with obvious offense. “Yes, I can. Why, do you think I’m lying?”

Once again, the two heroes were sharing a late meal in the Tower’s cafeteria, a recent ritual the two heroes seemed to have started whenever they had watch duty together.

Clark shook his head in disagreement to Bruce’s statement. “No, I don’t think you have a reason to lie, but you have on more than one occasion deluded yourself into believing things that aren’t exactly true.”

Bruce scowled. “So you doubt my skill?”

Clark looked up as though he were debating his reply before smirking back. “Maybe. I mean, considering you have Alfred cook all your meals it doesn’t seem like something you have much practice doing.”

Bruce snorted before directing his attention back on his food and grumbling. “He does now, but there was a time when I would’ve starved to death if I didn’t kill and cook my own food.”

“Well, when you’re starving, anything tastes good,” Clark laughed as he idly spooned through his own meal. “They say hunger is the best spice.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes on Clark before turning his head in an indignant manner. “Fine, then I will prove it to you. When is the next day that you are available?”

“Next Thursday.”

“Okay,” Bruce declared as he slammed his fork down and stared at Clark challengingly. “Then I will go to your apartment and cook you a meal so great it will keep that rather large mouth of yours shut long enough for me to revel in silent victory.”

Clark’s already large grin widened. “You’re on then! It’s a date!”

Alfred motioned towards Bruce’s room, to which Clark nodded a silent thank you to the man. Alfred shook his head back before turning to leave.

Clark stood just outside the door for a moment before he suddenly whipped his phone out of his pocket and turned it off.

“Clark? Why are you here? Did you not get my message?” Bruce mumbled softly, his voice a bit strangled as he spoke.

Clark looked down sadly at his friend who was bandaged heavily from head to toe, his left eye barely open due to the swelling, and his neck in a brace. It was only at times like these Clark truly remembered just how fragile and human his friend actually was, and the thought alone always shook his heart.

“No, I accidentally left my cellphone at home,” Clark lied as he pushed it deeper down into his pocket. “Bruce, are you alright?”

“I’ll live,” Bruce sighed and even that sounded painful considering all the cracked ribs Clark was now x-raying.

Bruce closed both his eyes and grimaced. “I’m sorry you came all this way then. Considering my condition…I don’t think I can make our arranged meeting tonight.”

“It’s fine,” Clark replied through a forced smile. “But since I’m here now, there really is no point in me leaving just yet.”

Clark lifted up the book that was in his other hand. “Mind if I stick around and catch up on some reading? I remember last time you suggested I try this one.”

Bruce merely shook his head.

“Well, then,” Clark replied as he suddenly pulled up a chair right next to Bruce’s bedside.

Bruce’s now dim sapphires looked at Clark with confusion before he finally murmured. “It would probably be more comfortable for you to read in the library…”

“Nah, this is fine,” Clark shrugged his face already in the book. “As long as I’m not bothering your or anything.”

Bruce smiled weakly. “No…that’s never the case.”

“And that makes 25!” Clark exclaimed triumphantly. “How you doing Batman? You still keeping up?”

Bruce threw two batrangs at the bee shaped robot about the size of a large dog. They connected right in area between the top of its head before they exploded and the robot crumpled to the floor.

“A little busy here, Superman,” Bruce growled, just barely dodging another robot that looked like a scorpion and was now trying to stab him with its stinger.

“Haha, now don’t be such a sore loser,” Clark laughed as be punched a mantis looking machine so hard it flew across the room.

“Who said I lost?” Bruce snapped back.

“Oh, I have been counting for the both of us, and you are only on numero 20.”

Bruce merely made a frustrated sound in reply as he stomped on the scorpion’s head and held its now dislocated tail.

“Well, don’t forget you promised that the winner gets treated to whatever they want!” Clark grinned as he back handed a wasp. “I think I want to go to Rita’s for some of their homemade apple pie.”

Clark pulled the spider looking robot off of Bruce and smirked only a few inches from his face. “With a side of vanilla ice cream.”

“That’s what you always want,” Bruce snorted before stabbing the giant ant that was lunging at Clark with the scorpion tail.

“Would you two just shut up already!” Hal shouted and he smashed a beetle android with a giant green mallet. "Or get a room!"

“Now GL,” Barry scolded as he zipped past the hero, a swarm of bees fast on his tail. They all crashed into a wall before he zipped back just in time to finish his sentence. “I thought you were all about the spirit of team bonding.”

“Yeah, but not blatant flirting,” Hal grumbled as he swatted a giant moth away with an equally large fly swatter. “It’s giving me cavities!”

“He’s just mad because he’s only at 16,” Diana smirked as she landed on a centipede so hard it broke into pieces.

Hal muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

“That’s 30 and counting, Batman!” Clark sung in the background.

“Bruce? What are you doing here?” Clark exclaimed his eyes wide as he stared down at the shorter man standing behind the screen door.

“I was invited,” Bruce replied evenly.

“Really?” Clark’s face twisted with even more confusion. “I don’t remember inviting you.”

“I invited him!” Martha barked as she pushed her son out of the doorway and motioned Bruce inside. She then placed a stack of plates in Clark hands and frowned at him. “Now stop being rude and help me set the table.”

Though he still looked a bit riled, Clark didn’t say anything further and started to make his way to the dining room.

“Bruce I’m so glad you were able to make it,” Martha greeted as she gave the billionaire a hug. Bruce returned the gesture without hesitation but was surprised when he realized he was holding a stack of cloth napkins with silverware after she pulled away. “Now why don’t you be a dear and help Clark while I finish up some things in the kitchen.”

“Of course,” Bruce chuckled. He was already long past the point of trying to figure out how the woman was always so sly.

“So I didn’t expect to see you here,” Clark mumbled his attention still on the festive looking table adorned with a large picture perfect turkey.

“Yeah, well I actually didn’t have plans considering Tim and Dick were out of town, and Damian was not interested. He said something about this holiday being pointless considering he’s a vegetarian among many other reasons,” Bruce made an uneasy face. “Alfred is also on a forced vacation considering he almost turned down a reunion with some old military comrades. If he wasn’t certain I had plans today, I never would have convinced him to go. Thankfully your mother offered me up an invitation.”

Clark shrugged with indifference. “Well, I don’t mind you being here. I’m just surprised Ma didn’t let me know beforehand.”

“Oh Clark, you know how I get in my old age. It must have slipped my mind,” Martha tittered as she set a tray of freshly roasted corn beside the turkey and looked up at her son. “But didn’t it end up being a wonderful surprise for you?”

Clark sighed with defeat before smiling and looking at Bruce. “Actually, it was. Now I have yet another reason to be thankful for today.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t think to bring any gloves,” Clark reprimanded as they made their way through the snow.

“Well, I didn’t exactly expect to be walking around outside on the coldest night in December,” Bruce snapped back as he rubbed his fingers together and blew in his cupped hands.

Clark’s face paled a bit at the comment before he looked back at the man apologetically. “Sorry, I didn’t expect the truck to break down. I promise once we are a little further away from town, I will fly us both back to the farmhouse.”

Bruce grumbled something that Clark didn’t exactly try to hear before he replied. “In any case, I just want to say thanks again. The kids at the center are really going to be happy to get gifts from Santa this year.”

Bruce shook his head despairingly. “It was something I could easily do. There’s no reason for you to thank me.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to personally bring them here yourself.”

Bruce was quiet for a moment.

“I don’t have to do a lot of things.”

Clark chuckled before he stopped right in front of Bruce and reached out towards him. “Here.”

Bruce blinked at Clark’s hand and then back at the man’s face. “What?”

“Give me your hand,” Clark instructed.

Bruce continued to stare at the Kryptonian with uneasy confusion.

“Just do it,” Clark huffed impatiently as he suddenly grabbed Bruce’s fingers.

“Geez, Bruce, your hands are freezing!” Clark balked.

“Yes, we already more than established that fact,” Bruce grumbled, the man currently annoyed now for several reasons. “But as usual, your body is beyond warm and unaffected.”

“Wha-what are you doing?” Bruce stammered as Clark took his hand along with Bruce’s own and placed it in his pocket, never once relinquishing his hold over Bruce’s fingers.

“Giving you a hand, literally,” Clark smiled as he squeezed Bruce’s palm. “Isn’t this much better?”

Bruce felt a blazing heat shoot through his body, starting from his fingertips and working its way up to his face. “Ye-yeah.” He lowered his head to avoid Clark’s suddenly intrusive gaze. “Unfortunately, my other hand isn’t as well attended to right now.”

“We’ll switch after another five minutes.”

“Five more minutes?!” Bruce shouted. “How much further do we have to walk?”

“Well, I just want to make sure we are far enough away from any bystanders. We don’t want anyone catching us flying,” Clark replied, his hold on Bruce tightening a bit.

Bruce narrowed his eyes on Clark’s face. The man was currently donning an equally embarrassed expression leading Bruce to the realization that the farm boy now had some ulterior motives.

Bruce silently laughed and turned his head to the side. “I suppose I can freeze a little longer for the sake of your identity. Besides, I guess this isn’t so bad.” Bruce's eyes widened, and he quickly explained. “That is…for my hands I mean…”

“Man am I glad this night is finally over!” Superman breathed out dramatically as he landed on the rooftop where Batman was crouching.

“Yes, I’m sure the National Police appreciate the League assisting them with apprehending Mallah,” Bruce replied as he stood up.

“Yeah, and just in time for the holiday,” Clark smirked. He then lifted up a styrofoam cup to Bruce’s face. “Here.”

“What’s this?” Bruce questioned.

“Well, I know it’s not much of a dinner, but I thought you could use something to warm yourself up with. It’s not instant either because I know how much you hate that, but I guess the French are just as picky as you because I couldn’t find anything instant around here even if I was trying.”

Bruce accepted the cup and shook his head appreciatively.

“Well, who would’ve thought we’d be ringing in the New Year in France and together?” Superman exclaimed his face filled with obvious excitement. He then sat down at the edge of the building his legs dangling as he stared out at the city.

Currently the two heroes had the perfect view of the Eiffel tower.

“I could think of worst company,” Bruce replied as he sat down beside Clark, the cup in his hand still untouched.

“Oh, they’re starting the count down!” Clark beamed as the music signaling the start of the count began to play. He then looked at Bruce who had a very disinterested frown on his mouth. “What? You’re not going to count?”

“I don’t usually.”

“But it’s a tradition,” Clark pleaded with a hopeful glaze in his eyes.

Bruce exhaled wearily. “Fine.”

Suddenly the entire tower lit up and the lights began to cascade down the building along with the count. A sea of voices could be heard in the distance, and it almost felt like the entire city was counting along.

Clark wasn’t sure if Bruce was actually counting, but he decided to just assume that he was. After the final number echoed in the cold night air, a million lights burst across the sky.

Clark gasped with awe at the extravagant fireworks display, his pulse racing with excitement but the moment he felt Bruce’s lips touch his cheek, his heart nearly burst.

Clark stared back at the dark hero his face painted with shock and question. “Bruce?”

“Isn’t this also considered the tradition?” Bruce replied his expression somehow guiltless and blank.

Clark closed his eyes and smiled warmly. He then opened them back up before suddenly and without warning grabbing Bruce around the waist. If not for his intent, the hero would’ve laughed at Bruce’s uncharacteristically shocked look, but right at the moment, the Kryptonian had more important things in mind.

Clark brought his face just a few millimeters from Bruce’s own and whispered back. “Yeah, but I think in France, it’s done a little more like this.”

Bruce made a surprised sound in his throat but didn’t fight back against the kiss.

“Happy Birthday, Clark.”

When Clark first walked into his apartment, he already felt the presence of someone else there. He cautiously entered but wasn’t expecting what he saw.

Bruce was standing in the kitchen in a sleek dark-blue suit, a cake by his side, and a charming smile on his face.

“What is this all about? My Birthday isn’t for another four months,” Clark questioned as he haphazardly draped his jacket towards the coat hanger but completely missed it. Right now the reporter was too busy eyeing Bruce.

Bruce’s smile turned up further. “I am well aware, but I also know that today is your actual birthday.”

“Of course you would know that. Even though Ma and Pa are the only ones I told,” Clark muttered more to himself.

“You never tell anyone or celebrate it, so I figured it was about time someone did,” Bruce replied as he took a seat by the table and patted the chair next to him.

Finally, fully recovered from his surprise, Clark took the signal and sat next to smirking billionaire. “Yeah, well, I appreciate the day Ma and Pa picked for me, and it only comes once every 4 years, so I didn’t see the point in it. I mean, I don’t need to celebrate twice in one year.”

“No, I suppose not, but I wanted to,” Bruce hummed as he pulled out an expensive looking lighter with the very familiar Wayne logo from out his jacket pocket.

“Did you now?” Clark mulled back, his eyes still on the man as he followed every one of his movements.

Bruce’s smile did not fade, but he had all his attention on the cake he was now lighting as he casually replied. “Well, today is the day that you were brought into existence. I can’t think of a better thing to celebrate.”

Bruce stared back at Clark, the Kryptonian’s mouth slightly open and his eyes glistening back a soft shade of azure. “Bruce…”

Bruce felt his heart skip at Clark’s elated expression and quickly averted his gaze.

“Well, why don’t you make a wish? And don’t say anything ridiculous like how your wish has already come true because the cake is already overly sweet for my liking, but I know this is the flavor you like best.”

Clark chuckled softly, before he let out a very controlled breath, and blew the candles out.

“I hope it was a good wish,” Bruce commented as he started to remove the wax decorations.“

It was,” Clark smiled as he placed his hands on top of Bruce’s own successfully halting him in his actions. “I wished that I can spend all my Birthdays with you like this.”

Bruce frowned at Clark, but didn’t make an attempt to pull himself free. “Why did you tell me? Now your wish won’t come true.”

Clark’s face transformed to a look of pure amusement. “Bruce, I’ve seen you make the impossible happen before. I know my wish will come true.”

A superior shape played its way on Bruce’s lips. “I suppose it can be arranged.”

“Now it’s time to get a bite of something sweet,” Clark chimed as he clasped Bruce’s wrist tightly and pulled the man into his lap.

“Damn it!” Bruce growled, his voice still light but his brow furrowed with irritation. “I knew you would somehow ruin the moment with a ridiculous cake pun.”

“You know me so well,” Clark laughed as he tickled Bruce’s neck with his nose and kissed it.

Bruce let out a pleased sound just before Clark lightly but suddenly bit down. “That does taste good!”

“Clark!” Bruce shouted angrily, upset that Clark more than likely left a mark but not doing much more to fight back.

Though the sun was already well in the sky, it happened to be one of the few lazy Sundays that neither of the two heroes had any pressing matters that needed to be attended to that day.

Sure when the sun started to roll behind the dusking clouds, Batman would already be well on his way back to Gotham, readying himself for another night of crime fighting and justice dealing, and if at any moment Superman heard the cry of a world in distress that required super effort and attention, he would leave at a moment’s notice, but for now, the two men were just enjoying an extra-long and relaxing Sunday morning in bed, enjoying each other’s company.

However, eventually Bruce’s stomach began to rumble, and though he would never admit it out loud, it was something Clark was able to hear even without his super abilities.

Of course, he didn’t ask the man if he was hungry because it was unlikely that he would say that he was. Instead, Clark silently willed himself out of bed and started to put on somewhat suitable attire for cooking brunch.

Unlike at Wayne manor, Clark didn’t have a butler who could whip them up some fancy style meal that Clark probably couldn’t pronounce, but he at least knew how to fry something fit in a pan, courtesy of his bachelor lifestyle and a mother who wouldn't be satisfied unless she knew her single son knew the basics.

Bruce watched Clark through the corner of his eye as the reporter picked up his long discarded shirt from off the floor and pulled it over his head. Currently the billionaire was lying on his stomach with his face rested against a pillow, the sheets rumpled over his body in such a way that his naked ass was in perfect view.

Clark resisted the urge to jump back into bed and tried to ignore the show as he surveyed the floor for his pants.

“So, Clark, I was wondering, what exactly would you call this?”

Clark furrowed his brow as he looked past his bedroom door and saw his pants hanging off the doorknob of the hallway closet wondering exactly how they got there.

“Call this?” he parroted, his mind not completely in the conversation as he eventually decided to rummage through his dresser instead for the much closer boxer briefs he knew were there.

“Well, I mean, this, as in us.”

Clark stood up so he could pull his underwear on never once bothering to turn to look at the man. “Bruce, I didn’t think you were the type to be so concerned with labels.”

Now Bruce was leaning his head against his hand and had his body reclined in a position so that he was facing the reporter, taking extra special care to enjoy the view of Clark’s well-toned butt just before he covered himself up.

“No, I’m not, but I know you are, so I was just curious as to what you thought.”

Clark was still for a moment, his head lowered as he stared at the floor thoughtfully. With his back still to the billionaire, Clark replied. “If you’re asking if I love you, then I would think the answer to that is already obvious by now.”

Clark turned around, a sly curl on his lips, but his eyes reflecting honest blue sincerity. “But if you are needing to hear the words that badly, then yes, Bruce Wayne, I am undoubtedly head over heels in love with you.”

Bruce’s own mouth lifted and he slightly shrugged. “Well, that didn’t exactly answer the question that I asked, but it is a more than suitable response.”

Clark’s smile deepened before he sat back down on the bed and leaned over to give Bruce a short but sweet kiss.

He then pulled away and asked. “So then, Bruce, might I ask what exactly you think this is?”

Bruce fell back on the bed so that his head was resting on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling before replying. “Yes you may.”

“Well?” Clark pressed after there was no response for several seconds.

Bruce folded his arms over his stomach and closed his eyes. “It’s a secret.”

“Hey! That’s not fair at all!” Clark complained.

Bruce held back a laugh, but was unable to hide his grin. “No one ever said this was.”

Now Clark was shaking Bruce as the man continued to feign sleep but failed to convince anyone considering the fact that he was now chuckling.

“Damn you, Bruce, tell me or I’ll take back what I said”

“Haha, okay Clark,” Bruce laughed before he grabbed Clark by the back of his neck and pulled their faces together. “I promise to tell you on our next date.”

Clark made a move to speak, and Bruce wasn’t sure if it was to agree or protest, but once their lips met, none of that really seemed to matter anymore.

The End!