Archive of Our Own

It had seemed so utterly inconsequential at the time.

When Superman touched down next to him that night, a question in his eyes, Bruce hadn't redirected him to some other resource. He didn't leap off the roof and crawl back into the shadows. He hardly even thought to growl out a ‘get out of my city’, but perhaps it was a moot point, seeing as that had not worked in quite some time.

Instead, he had let Kal ramble on, staring out at the skyline with the traffic a quiet murmur below them.

“—they still hesitate when I reach out,” Kal was saying. “They know I'm there to help them, but even just a few seconds of hesitation is a matter between a few injuries or death.”

Bruce had no such reservations with civilians, manhandling them as needed, but that suggestion would be at odds with Superman’s approachability.

Kal huffed out, clearly frustrated. “I mean, it's been nearly a year and I'm still missing something, I just don't know what—” Kal cut himself off then, hunching his shoulders forward.

Maybe if Bruce had left it at that—only lending an ear to Kal's struggle, the situation could have been salvaged. As it was, he had instead let his voice modulator crackle to life.

“An invulnerable man is going to be…a lot for an average person,” Bruce offered. “Even if he is trying to help.”

“I know,” Kal groaned, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “But there has to be some way that I can show them. I smile and speak softly and—”

Bruce grunted. “Feelings.”

“Feelings?”

“A man who can catch bullets has just taken down five men in front of you. He offers to escort you to safety. Do you accept?”

“Uh…”

“Now, same man, but you know he reads Jane Austen and he tears up watching The Fox and the Hound.”

“The Fox and the Hound?” Kal repeated, perking up. Bruce flexed his jaw, regretting choosing such a specific film, but it was hard not to when it had become a favored title in the Wayne household. Kal inched closer, letting his voice drop low and teasing to match the curl of his lips. “Bats…don't tell me—”

At Bruce's glare, Kal pressed his lips together and leaned back. “Alright, alright, the…you're talking about the emotional connection.”

Bruce let a contemplative silence settle over them.

“Kal. Your interview Friday.”

“Yeah?”

“Use it to your advantage. Take control of the public opinion of you. Be a little open in your answers.”

“Ok, things I like and dislike,” Kal mused, staring up at the sky. “Like…favorite Metropolis pizza place?”

“No, more vague—don't involve civilians. Superman’s favor is a blessing and a curse.” Bruce glanced at Kal from the corner of his eye. “I'm sure Lois Lane would agree.”

Kal laughed openly at that, head thrown back. “Oh, she certainly has opinions on it.”

When Kal's usual chatter did not resume for long enough, Bruce let himself glance over again, only to find Kal already looking back. The remnant of the laugh that had settled on his face wasn't one of the smiles he gave to the public—the charming, heroic ones. It was a soft one, the kind he reserved for quiet moments like this, sincere and boyish and so terribly fond.

Bruce left then, swallowed by the night, and did not look back.

“Anyone special in your life, Superman?”

Bruce took a bite of his bagel, swiping idly through his schedule for the day.

Superman’s interview played live on the screen before him, Bruce likely just one of millions tuning in to hear what Metropolis’ resident hero had to say. He glanced up just as the camera switched to Kal, pushing in as if it might catch the answer written on his face.

Kal had been surprisingly forthcoming in this interview, much to the delight of the interviewer and the studio audience. Since his first appearance, Kal had given non-answers more often than not in regards to personal information. This newly candid Superman was undoubtedly a product of their recent conversation.

“Perhaps a Ms. Lane?” The reporter pressed cheekily, savoring an anticipatory pause.

Bruce paused, giving the screen his full attention.

Although Lois Lane was obviously a most beloved topic of Superman questions, Kal was notoriously obtuse about his relationship with her. Even Bruce could only theorize on the nature of their relationship because he had no reason to ask and Kal had no reason to answer.

It didn't take a detective, however, to see the fondness there; he himself was privy to the way Lois sniped at Kal and how Kal would laugh back. But evidence of anything further was scarce. If there was anything there, Kal did an incredible job at keeping it under wraps.

Impressively, and somewhat infuriatingly, Lois was just as tight lipped.

Although he doubted the question to be intended as anything other than celebrity gossip, it had the potential to be useful to Kal’s dilemma. If Kal could be seen as a human man in the eyes of the public, having a whirlwind romance with the woman he was always rescuing, then he obviously had the capability to care about the lives of other humans. It would do well to ease hesitations around a being who held such power.

And if—well, if Bruce was simply curious about whether there was truth to the rumors, the rest of the world was just as guilty as him for it.

Feeling a little foolish, Bruce found himself increasing the sound, waiting for Kal's confirmation.

But Kal only smiled and shook his head.

“No, not Lois. In all honesty, I think she considers us colleagues at this point.” His cheek dimpled at this, as if he were in on a joke. “Actually, I think she might appreciate me asking folks at home to please stop whisking her away while she's on the job.”

This got a laugh from the audience.

Slightly bewildered, Bruce chewed slowly, considering Kal's answer. Lois wasn't involved with Kal? She certainly got kidnapped far too often to not be.

“Well, there's gotta be someone you have your eye on. A…crush?”

“...a crush?” Kal echoed, making a big show of mulling over it. Bruce snorted and took a sip of coffee. He had to hand it to Kal; he could really play an audience. The tension was oozing through the screen.

“Yes, I would say that I do actually.”

Bruce’s eyes snapped up. The interviewer was practically salivating. “And who—who's the lucky lady?”

Kal quirked a smile and then looked directly into the camera.

“Oh,” he said, easy as anything. “It's Batman.”

Bruce choked.

It took a two full weeks with a lack of Superman for Bruce to realize how often their team ups had simply been Kal searching him out.

Bruce could handle the patrols and fights perfectly well on his own, of course, but it had been—useful, to have Kal's abilities at his back and an extra pair of eyes monitoring Dick. Robin was so fresh to the scene; Bruce had only let him on the most routine of patrols so far and now had benched him until further notice.

As for the quieter moments, it was simply jarring to turn and not find Superman floating by his side.

Bruce could not pin down why Kal was keeping scarce—he'd been plenty confident in his delivery during the interview. He wasn't incapacitated; there had been the usual amount of Superman sightings across the internet, so it certainly wasn't for a lack of ability.

Maybe fear of retribution from Bruce? Perhaps it was simply regret at the blatant lie he'd told on live television.

Whatever it was, Bruce wasn't going to page him until he worked up the courage to explain it to Bruce himself.

As if he had spoken it into existence, there Superman was the next evening, eyes trained on Bruce before he'd even made himself visible. Kal shot up from his perch, obviously ready to launch into a round of his usual greetings when oddly, he frowned and seemed to wilt, sitting back down.

“Um,” he started, when it was clear Bruce wouldn't. “I got your page, and Robin here said you'd be back pretty soon, so…”

Bruce turned to glare at the third member of their party, who swiped at his nose and glared right back.

“Robin.”

“What?” He retorted. “You’re taking too long.”

“You are not supposed to be out here—you’ve been benched.”

“Yeah, well, I was trying to get un-benched, which was only going to happen when you got over yourself and talked to Superman.”

Kal, who'd been watching the exchange with his lips pulled into an ‘oh,’ brightened at this. Bruce crossed his arms and carefully did not acknowledge him.

“Well,” Kal offered into the stony silence a moment later. “I’m real sorry about that, Robin. I wasn’t aware of the situation.”

Dick’s eyes darted to Superman and he pinked a little, waving off the apology with giddy hands. Kal looked to Bruce. “So, if you didn't actually call me here...”

Kal might as well have been rubbing the damned sole of his shoe on the floor like a bashful schoolgirl. Bruce huffed a breath.

“Superman.”

Kal shot up from his seat again.

“A word.”

Kal floated over as Bruce stabbed a finger at Dick. “Stay put. And don’t think you’re getting out of this.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dick muttered, folding himself backwards into a bridge. “Batsy and Supey sitting in a tree—”

Bruce had his eyes trained resolutely on the skyline, but unfortunately didn't miss the way Kal repeated ‘Supey?’ with a smile in his voice.

They weren’t halfway across the roof when Kal paused, wringing his hands. “Look, Batman, I can’t even begin to imagine what is going through your head, but I was just trying my best to be ‘vague and open.’ Admitting to, um, that about you was—”

“Vague?” Bruce cut in, indignant even if his voice modulator didn't let him be. “I specifically remember saying ‘without getting anyone involved.’”

“You said civilians!” Kal sputtered. “You’re hardly a civilian—I thought it'd be fine!”

Dick giggled from the handstand he’d lifted himself into. “Supes is right—he's basically in love with—with the Night—wait no, no—with Vengeance—”

Bruce glowered at him before walking further down the roof, out of earshot. Kal trailed behind him, a wrinkle in his eyebrows.

“Is this about Lois?” Kal asked when they stopped, voice low. “I asked her, Batman, she said she was fine with me saying what I said—”

“No, it's not…” Bruce rubbed at the cowl over his forehead. “Kal, you didn't need to lie—you would have charmed them with something else.”

Superman considered Bruce for a long moment and then tilted his head. “It's not a lie.”

Silence reigned for a solid three seconds before Dick’s cackles burst in a fit of static through Bruce’s ear piece. Bruce held back his grimace and quickly shut it off—he’d forgotten he put Dick on the direct line between him and Alfred. Kal followed his glower and together, they watched Dick laugh himself into a puddle on the floor.

With the initial conversation out of the way, Kal seemed more than content to join Bruce again, and while Bruce did his damnedest to keep the Bat an enigma to camera capture, sightings of Superman did not go unnoticed. Amateur blogs to reputable papers alike scrambled to get the clearest photos.

“‘Lovers Quarrel Over?’” Dick recited from a tablet, a now nearly daily occurrence. “‘Superman Spotted Again in Gotham Weeks After Bombshell Interview.’”

Bruce draped an arm over his face, at war with the three hours of sleep in him. “That one's old,” he muttered and then immediately scowled at the ceiling.

Dick scrolled back up to read the date and laughed abruptly. “Oh, you're right. B, are you reading these in your spare time?”

Truly, the worst of it was that it had actually begun to work in Superman's favor.

Bruce had seen how people would now reach out to Superman, calling his name, sobbing in his arms when they're gentled to safety. He saw how aloof Gothamites were eager to raise a hand in greeting when Kal zipped across the sky above them. People tossed questions up at him when they could, and where Kal used to only bestow upon them a winning smile, he was now, on occasion, willing to offer a clipped answer.

Bruce was even privy to the new abundance of unsolicited comments thrown at Kal, and in certain cases, included in the action.

“So…Supaman. How're things goin’ with the Bat?” Bruce glanced towards Kal from where he'd been paging the police in a dark corner of the alley. Kal blinked at the muggers they'd taken down.

“It's—it's going,” Kal admitted bashfully, tightening a knot.

“That's code for ‘no good,’” another whispered conspiratorially, leaning as far as the ropes around him would give. The rest groaned in commiseration.

“What’s a guy like you missin’, eh?” Kal rubbed at the back of his head and shot a furtive glance at Bruce down the alley, which had the tragic consequence of drawing the rest of their gazes.

“‘Ey, ‘EY Batman!” One of them hollered. "Won't you give Superman a chance? I mean, what a catch, man, really, what an Adonis—”

Bruce scaled a neighboring building in record time.

He didn't miss Kal’s response to the men through his comms however, and could hardly hold back the snort at Kal's reassurance of “Batman's just a little shy, really.”

In truth, Bruce wasn't going to be the one to broach the topic when Kal seemed content to leave everything the way it was. Since the interview, nothing had really changed between them, other than Bruce’s tendency to overinterpret every instance of Kal aiming his sunny disposition at Bruce. Kal had used the term ‘crush,’ but it may have been the closest term he could find to relay what he truly meant.

After all, Bruce had no baseline for the nature of a—a union for Kal's people. He seemed to lack any inclination to push forward towards a more romantic relationship.

In Bruce's experience, people were more than willing to jump on any attention Bruce gave them, be it a touch on the waist or a whispered proposition. He couldn't do the same as Batman, obviously, but he could still stare at Kal for much longer than necessary or let their hands brush, when he was usually so very deliberate in how he moved.

It was to no avail, of course. Kal would just tilt his head like a confused puppy or offer Bruce more space, as if the rest of the roof wasn't available.

Perhaps they had already been involved in a relationship in Kal's mind for quite some time, and if that were the case, well, there was nothing Bruce needed to do, exactly. Bruce was in no hurry to make an ass out of himself with anything so petty as carnal desires.

That line of thought, however, was quickly complicated by the next time Kal decided to, quite literally, drop by.

“Batman,” Kal murmured to a fuming Bruce. “I know you hate it when I drop in on fights you've got handled, but the bullet was going to ricochet!”

Bruce pointedly grappled his way to a rooftop.

Kal, undeterred, appeared beside him with a quiet flutter of their capes. “And the batarang you threw only glanced off my shoulder.”

Bruce flattened his lips.

“I'm pretty sure it ended up hitting a guy too,” Kal muttered, rubbing his nose.

It wasn't that Kal was a hindrance—it was quite the opposite, in fact. In many fights, they’d found themselves playing off of each other like a finely tuned machine. It was simply that it had thrown off his rhythm.

Bruce closed his eyes and let out a measured breath. Kal had caught the bullet before it could bounce off the wall and nick him. Bruce turned to Kal, readying a non-committal dismissal of the situation, but stopped at the expression on Kal's face.

Kal’s eyebrows were drawn together and his gaze was focused. He wasn't looking at the lenses of the cowl anymore, he was looking slightly lower now, down to his…

Bruce clapped a glove over his mouth and his pulse hiccuped.

Kal blinked and looked back up, uncomprehendingly, and then began turning a furious red.

“Wha—Batman!” Kal gasped, eyes wide. “I wasn't—! I would never—! Your lips are the only thing I can see of your face and I'm trying to determine if you really are upset! I can't see anything else—your cowl's lined with lead—not that I’ve actually checked—so I—your expression—!”

Bruce let his hand slide down as Kal moaned and buried his face in his hands, hoping Kal was distraught enough to miss the way his pulse raced.

It didn't necessarily mean Kal wanted to—kiss him, perse, he might have just been operating under the implications such a gesture would have for Bruce, a human being.

Still, that did little to quell his heart.

“It's fine, Kal,” Bruce told the sky. “I don't mind.”

“You…” Kal said. “You don't mind if I…?”

Bruce wanted to laugh. Of course he didn't mind if Kal eyed him up like a piece of candy. In fact, Bruce would have no objections if Kal ever decided he might want to taste him like one too.

Bruce hummed and let the side of his lips quirk. “In any case, it's probably better that you do. The Bat would have bigger problems if the public thought he rejected Superman.”

“...Oh,” Kal returned belatedly. “Yeah.”

And when Kal failed to bestow upon him a sunny smile, Bruce frowned, feeling as if something had just slipped through his fingers.

Kal had taken to avoiding Bruce again.

It wasn't as overt as it had been right after the interview, but it was undeniable by how Superman never appeared in Gotham except when he was certain Robin would be there as a buffer. It was possible he was only appearing out of courtesy as well; avoiding Bruce outright would undoubtedly result in drastic measures from a benched Robin.

While Kal remained the perfect sounding board for Robin’s incessant chatter, it was now only terse replies for Bruce. It was like Bruce was a damned civilian, trying to get whatever little piece of Superman he could.

At least Dick was glowing from the extra attention Kal lavished him with.

Kal had taken Bruce’s words as a rejection, that much Bruce understood. Even if Bruce had, in all honesty, meant for it to be a dig at the public’s penchant for gossip.

Even so, it was…unbelievably perturbing to imagine Batman asking Superman, who was a—truly a god among men, if Bruce had accidentally rejected his interest in advancing their physical relationship and if he might like to go ahead and rectify it, with as much haste as the situation required.

What Batman could do, however, was use Bruce Wayne.

As a supposedly unrelated civilian, Bruce could, in theory, get an objective understanding of Kal and his customs. Why wouldn't Superman indulge the silly questions of an airheaded billionaire?

Now there was only one question that remained.

How was little old Brucie Wayne to catch the attention of the indomitable Superman?

“Hi. Is Lois Lane in?”

The receptionist at the Daily Planet startled, taking in Bruce oozing charm on the other side of the desk.

“Mr. Wayne! What brings you to the Daily Planet? Actually, I can check that for you right now! Just one moment,” she blurted, quickly typing away at her desk. She hit at a button on her desk. “Mr. White, Mr. Wayne is here to see Lois Lane.”

Bruce took the next elevator up, smiling pleasantly at a woman holding an enormous stack of papers who pretended not to see him. Lois wasn’t at her desk when he finally stepped out onto the floor, but it seemed her partner was, a large man with the desk plate ‘Clark Kent' helpfully identifying him.

Kent blinked up at him. “Hello,” he said kindly. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I'm looking for the lovely Ms. Lane.”

“Oh! She should be—uh,” he swiveled around. “—not here.” He cleared his throat. “Please have a seat, she should be back soon.”

Together, they turned to the third chair, stacked high with a mismatch of folders and loose papers. The man gave Bruce a sheepish smile, quickly shoving things onto the table to make room for Bruce on the chair. As he rearranged the desk, something twinkled up at Bruce.

“What is that?”

Kent picked it up with a small grin and tilted his hand so Bruce could see. Of all the things it could have been, it was a Batman pin that rested in his palm. Even more surprisingly, it looked familiar. His secretary had donned one just like it on her blazer.

“Ha,” Kent said. “It was a gift from Lois, my colleague. Which—well, of course she’s my colleague, seeing as we’re sharing a desk—um, it's one half of a couples pin.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of—well,” Kent said, gesturing vaguely at the Bat pin, a slow redness climbing his ears. “It's in support of their…romance.”

Bruce smirked. “I’m sure Ms. Lane was thrilled to have the Superman one given how often he’s come to her rescue.”

Kent smiled back, a glint of mirth behind the dull lenses of his bulky glasses. “No, actually. The Superman one is for someone else. Well, I mean if I can work up the courage—”

“Mr. Wayne!”

Bruce turned to find Lois striding towards them. “Ms. Lane, just the woman I wanted to see.”

She didn’t actually roll her eyes, but it was a near thing. “I know you didn’t come all the way to Metropolis to flirt. What are you really here for?”

Bruce pouted, even as he silkily pulled out an embossed invitation. That was the thing he liked about Lois; she never forced him to perform for long. “Alright, I simply wished to personally extend an invitation to you for the upcoming charity gala. Any leads you're chasing? Big names you’re dying to get a quote from? I’m certain they’ll be in attendance.”

Lois took the invitation and then fanned her fingers out to reveal that Bruce had actually handed her two envelopes, one obviously more embellished than the other. She quirked an eyebrow.

“A plus one,” Bruce said encouragingly. She would narrow her eyes next and then ask what the catch was.

Lois did eye him critically for a long moment, but then spun around to face Kent. “Perfect. Clark, did you want—”

“Ah—” Bruce interrupted hastily. He caught Kent's bewildered gaze. “I’m certain your esteemed colleague would be a wonderful addition to the party, but the organizers, they wanted a very specific plus one, to boost support.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “A super one.”

He gave Kent a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Party hosts—you know how it is.”

He looked back at Lois, who seemed to be fighting a grin. “Mr. Wayne, as charming as you are, everyone knows who Superman's got his eye on.”

“Ms. Lane!” Bruce exclaimed, pressing a hand to his collar. “How could you accuse me of something like that? Superman’s presence will support a very noble cause!” He smiled. “And who's to say, maybe I'd be able to offer him a helping hand—Batman is Gotham’s shadow after all.”

Lois set the invitations down and considered them with a hum.

Truthfully, when Bruce had proposed the idea of having Superman speak at an upcoming gala, it really was a poorly disguised ploy to have Kal meet Bruce Wayne.

Bruce wasn't desperate enough to stage some kind of threat on Bruce Wayne's life to attract the attention of Superman, not yet at least. Besides, Kal would just save him, give a Superman smile and then speed away. He needed a reason for Kal to talk to him.

“You'll give him the invitation, won't you?”

“Well…”

All her coworkers, who were badly pretending like they hadn't been eavesdropping the entire time, seemed to collectively hold their breath.

Lois, however, was looking across her desk at Kent, the only one who was determinedly clacking away at his keyboard. But even he wasn't immune to workplace drama it seemed, because he hesitated, eyes quickly darting to them, before he tore them away again to continue the fevered clacking.

Lois smirked and turned back.

“Sure, I'll ask him.”

There was a woman waiting for him that night.

Typically, Bruce ignored loiterers apart from a quick check for suspicious activity, but she'd been leaning up against her motorcycle with her face tilted up to the sky, posture deceptively relaxed to mask that she'd been searching for something. For him.

So Bruce climbed a roof adjacent to her with little hesitation and then dropped down, boots hitting the pavement hard.

“Jesus!” The woman yelped, jumping a bit. “I didn't think you could get any better at that.”

“Selina,” Bruce greeted.

“It's been a while hasn't it, hon?” Selina smiled. “Looks like you've been busy taking care of Gotham. The Bat’s a menace.”

Bruce stowed his grapple. “Are you returning?”

“No, just visiting. I've got people I wanted to see again and well, I was handed the perfect excuse,” Selina said, sidling up to him to examine his armor. She tapped at his chest plate with a sharp nail. “So let's hear about that not-so-secret admirer of yours.”

Bruce crossed his arms. “There's nothing to say.”

“Aw, sure there is. I've heard he’s got a whole lot of interesting abilities. Have you found any of them to be… transferable?”

Bruce frowned and didn't reply, prompting Selina to peer at him shrewdly. “Hold on, you are sleeping with him, aren't you?”

“Of course not.”

“But you want to.”

Bruce flexed his jaw. “It doesn't matter whether I want to or not. He has not expressed interested in anything beyond—”

“He’s waiting for you to say something, obviously. He’s clearly that type—you know—the good ones.”

“There’s no certainly. He's not human—”

“There wouldn't be any certainty if he was human. And he seemed pretty sure of himself in that interview. Do you really think he wouldn't know what his words would mean to a human audience? To you?”

Bruce gritted his teeth and Selina's eyes softened. “Look, back then…you made your choice and I made mine. I don't…maybe we could have been something else if we'd chosen the same things.”

She gave him a fleeting smile. “It looks like Superman’s made his choice this time around. And now, he's waiting for you.”

They watched each other in silence for a long while and then Selina let out a sigh. “Well, I’d tell you to ease up a little, but I'd be better off telling a brick wall.”

Bruce gave the barest hint of a smile and let his stance relax. “How have you been?”

“Pretty good, actually, all things considered—”

“—do you naturally drift towards the most decrepit places or—oh, hello,” Superman said, obviously surprised it wasn’t Robin he’d found Bruce with.

“Speak of the devil…” Selina muttered.

Kal looked apprehensive and Bruce was certain he was about to shoot up into the sky again. But he seemed to compose himself and then looked between them when they both simply stared at him. “Who…?”

“An acquaintance of mine.”

“How cold!” Selina said, obviously delighted when Kal, ever the gentleman, extended his hand out in greeting. Her grin turned sharp. “We were lovers.”

“Oh!” Kal blinked as Selina began to circle him, tugging at his cape and pressing at his bicep. “I—I see.”

“You’ve got laser eyes, right? What else have you got? I always thought it'd be cool to turn invisible.”

“Selina…” Bruce muttered.

“What?” Selina griped, even as Kal let her press a hand against his chest as if to test if he was made from rock. “Can't a girl be curious?”

“Oh, that's alright, Ma'am. I can't turn invisible, but I've got a few other modes of vision.”

“‘Ma’am?’” Selina parroted. “Aren't you a sweetheart? And look at that cute little curl you've got!” Kal pinked as Selina laughed, finally easing her attention off him to grab her helmet.

“Anyway, I've gotta run, boys, but it was lovely to meet you,” Selina said, and then spun to Bruce. “Let’s talk again, Batman, but think on it, won't you?”

With a polite farewell from Kal, Selina revved up her bike and disappeared into the gloom. It was… odd, to see her leave again, a scene that, years ago, had him questioning the need for Batman's existence. He turned to find Kal still at Bruce's side, watching after Selina with an inscrutable look on his face.

Surprisingly, Kal didn't take his leave after that, so the patrol continued with an oddly subdued mood for the rest of the night.

“I’ve got something for you,” Kal said abruptly, during a lull in the action. Bruce watched him fiddle with his hands, looking shifty. Bruce felt uneasy with this uncharacteristically apprehensive Superman.

“Don't tell me you carried a gift around as we fought? Is it broken and bloody?”

Kal huffed, but lost tension in his shoulders. “Of course not,” he said indignantly. “I kept it safe in a suit pocket. I wasn't going to let it get damaged.”

He uncurled his palm and what was it but the infamous Superman half to the limited edition couples pins.

“It was a gift, from my colleague.”

They were innocuous, those words; it was coincidence. It really should have been nothing. But the cadence in which Kal delivered that line struck a chord in Bruce's mind that couldn't stop him from breathing out “Lois.”

Kal was on instant alert, eyes wide. “What—how did you—?”

“Your interview,” Bruce said quickly. “You referred to Lois Lane as your colleague.”

Kal laughed. “I did say that, didn't I?” He ran a hand through his hair, and—Christ, he was that reporter—Clark Kent. “She had a good laugh at me for it, but she—she supports us.”

“Does she,” Bruce murmured.

The two of them stared for a very long time at the Superman pin still in Kal’s hand. Kal’s face fell ever so slightly and then his fingers began to close as he pulled back.

Bruce snatched the pin and quickly tucked it away into one of his pockets. He cut the night short then, to head to the Cave, leaving Kal to beam his megawatt smile out to the Gotham night.

The Cave could not provide its usual distractions, not when Bruce had taken to rubbing his thumb over the pin again and again.

How did a man who had his entire face on display have a secret identity?

He had made attempts to uncover Kal’s secrets in the beginning, back when they had been wary of each other. But hyper vigilance had Kal crushing the tags Bruce pinned to his cape and super speeding to lose any tracking technology Bruce had trained on him.

By the time other threats became more of a pressing issue, their grudging partnership had all but halted Bruce's attempts at trailing Kal.

It was clear Kal had now become complacent in his secrecy around Bruce and perhaps Bruce had too, to a certain extent. But the disclosure of an identity? There would be nowhere to hide after that.

“Hey B—I’ve got this write-up for school, can you take a look—”

Dick slapped his papers down on the table where Bruce had been attempting to mull through a case file, but his eyes were already caught on Bruce's hands. “B…Where did you get that? Did Superman…?”

Bruce shuffled the case files away from Dick's homework. Dick laughed joyfully and clasped his hands together. “Oh boy, this is too good. Batman’s boy toy gave him a couples charm—”

“—don’t call him that—”

“—and you accepted! Do you love him? How do you know he's not just using you for the Wayne fortune? Or—oh! Unless it's for Bruce Wayne’s body,” he said and then pretended to retch.

Bruce pursed his lips to squint at the papers and Dick gasped. His voice dropped, properly scandalized.

“Oh fuck, he doesn't know? Poor Superman, deceived by his own love!”

He gleefully dashed out of the room before Bruce could give him a dressing down for his language. “Alfred, Alfie have you heard—?”

Bruce returned to stare uncomprehendingly at the page, but then sighed and rose to suit up again. For all that Dick was just teasing, there was a truth to it; even if Bruce wanted to keep his secrets, Kal deserved to know that Bruce now also held his.

Bruce was quick to find that Kal had an appalling sense of security.

When he landed on Kal's fire escape, the window parted easily beneath his fingertips, the latch broken. Bruce quietly jimmied the window open and was in the process of slowly lowering his leg into the apartment when the light flicked on.

“So you do know,” Kal said in greeting, although he didn't seem particularly upset about it.

In answer, Bruce climbed all the way through. He immediately took to mapping out the apartment, ignoring Kal's soft and sleep rumpled appearance. Kal only crossed his arms in bemusement and followed. When they made it back to the center of the living room, Bruce mirrored Kal's pose. “Your security is terrible."

Kal snorted. “It's not like I need it.”

They stewed in a short silence.

“Well,” Kal said. “I’m glad you decided to come sooner than later, so that these don't go to waste.”

From his little fridge, he pulled out a pastry box and peeled it open to expose two sets of cupcakes. Half were decorated with Batman’s symbol in fondant and the other two had Kal’s crest slapped on them.

“Aren’t they just darling?” Kal asked, beaming. He'd obviously bought them as Clark, but Bruce had to press his lips together at the sudden imagery of Superman in all his glory handing over change to a shocked cashier. They would have probably forced him to take it with no charge.

“They’re a new special at a bakery near work.” Kal said. “Jimmy told me about it.”

“A bit narcissistic, hm?” Bruce teased.

“No,” Kal said emphatically. “It's just nice,” he said, carefully taking a Bat cupcake out of the package. “—seeing our symbols together.”

Bruce grunted, face suddenly warm.

“And they’re good!” Kal exclaimed, having taken a bite. He turned to Bruce then, with a smear of icing on his upper lip, and gave a crooked little smile.

And Bruce was—

Bruce was hit by the sudden clarity that Kal—Clark was human in any and all the ways that mattered.

It was in the comfort that radiated from his apartment; the bright smiles in picture frames, the knitted throw draped over his couch, the assortment of houseplants. The way he was framed by the homeliness of a lived-in kitchen, wrapped up in a worn sweater with a frayed hole darned over by a colorful patch of embroidery. The sort of nervous energy he had because Bruce was here, in his home, in his space—

What was it that Selina had said? Superman had made his choice and now it was Bruce's turn?

“You can take the rest back for Robin,” Clark had been saying to Bruce's silence. “I wasn't sure if he'd like vanilla or chocolate more, but funny enough, yours is chocolate and mine is vanilla! What flavor do you think they'd make Robins’ if he got one? Strawberry—?”

“Clark,” Bruce cut in. “Are we in a relationship?”

Clark nearly upturned his cupcake onto the counter. “Are we? That's—I was—Are we?”

Bruce very carefully thumbed the icing off of the side of Clark's lips and licked it off. When he pulled back, Clark was frozen, face flushed. His gaze was certainly fixed upon Bruce's mouth, and this time, Bruce was going by Occam's razor.

“Yes,” Bruce said. “We are.”

Clark beamed and any reservations Bruce might have had were promptly thrown out of the window when Clark proceeded to grab Bruce and kiss him very thoroughly.

When they had eventually migrated to Clark's couch, with Bruce trying to actually catch his breath—because God did Clark really not need to breathe—, Clark brought his hand up to gently skate across the cowl over his cheek. “I'd love to meet you,” Clark rumbled quietly.

Bruce released a breath.

It was cruel, of course, to let Clark have this while keeping everything else a secret. It wasn't that he couldn't tell Clark, not with how much he had grown to trust him—how much he wanted him. It was simply a terrifying thought to finally have to lay out everything from a secret Bruce guarded so fiercely.

By the time he had even gotten to the possibility of this with Selina, they had already decided to go their separate ways.

Bruce gripped Clark’s shirt. “I…need time,” he muttered to Clark's plaid, in a poor apology. “To prepare.”

And Clark—as Clark Kent was bound to do—acquiesced easily without complaint.

So Bruce would build up a plan. He’d introduce Bruce Wayne to Clark, developing a plausible reason for why they would interact. He'd ease Alfred and Dick into this new reality but not have training be forgotten to use Superman as a crutch. He’d fix that ridiculous broken window in Clark's apartment.

But all of that was to be done in due time.

Bruce drew back to look at Clark, and dug around in his pockets. He thrust a thin box out at Clark.

“Oh, thank you,” Clark said automatically, accepting it. He didn't open it though, only staring at Bruce in question.

Bruce cleared his throat. “A proper journalist needs a good fountain pen. It has a durable design. Smooth, consistent ink flow—” and to Clark’s protest, he held up a hand. “—I'm not taking it back, Clark. Give it to Lois if you must.”

Clark obviously wanted to object anyway, but he couldn't seem to bite back his smile, his free hand seeking out Bruce almost unconsciously. He paused, however, to look hesitant, so Bruce made sure he did nothing but stay exactly where he was. Clark breathed a quiet laugh and then leaned in to press a soft smacking kiss on the middle of his forehead right over the cowl.

“I’ll treasure it,” he said warmly. “Thank you, Batman.”

Dick found out almost immediately, much to Bruce's chagrin.

He didn't even have a chance to keep it a secret, not with how Kal, in a move that was entirely Kansas, told Dick of his affections for Bruce and asked if he might have Dick's blessing.

It had been extraordinarily endearing and entirely embarrassing.

“On one condition,” Dick had said solemnly. Kal fidgeted nervously and even Bruce had felt a pinprick of apprehension. Dick crossed his arms over his chest. “You take me flying whenever I want.”

That had taken a little more negotiation on Bruce's part, with Dick finally agreeing it to be in accordance with Kal's schedule. The compromise was settled with a serious handshake from Kal and the conversation quickly devolved into an argument about which episode of The Gray Ghost was the best. A conversation Bruce refrained from joining, even if he had quite the rebuttal to Dick's choice of the episode Gray Ghost Returns.

Truly, it seemed nothing had changed except for Kal's willingness to show his affections at the slightest provocation. If Bruce used that to get Kal to press him against a rooftop wall once or twice, well, that was no one's business but his own.

Bruce even deigned to bring the Bat to Metropolis for a night, which despite being a nightmare for its gleaming, slick architecture that offered no room for purchase, was entirely worth it for the intensity in which Kal had kissed Bruce that night.

After that, it was only natural that Bruce would begin to wonder.

Clark had obviously been raised as a human man; he’d have grown up with the social norms of Kansan farmers. While undoubtedly much more conservative in nature than Bruce’s upbringing, it still meant he was, at the very least, aware of the human sexuality.

Of course, while Clark most certainly had a form not only similar to that of a man, but enviable, his…reproductive organs might be much different.

But if he was interested in—in Bruce, in the way a human man might be, well Bruce certainly had an open mind towards whatever Clark might have down his pants—

“IS THAT A ROBIN CUPCAKE?”

“Master Richard, it is well past your bedtime. I’m certain Master Kal would appreciate it if you enjoyed his gift tomorrow—”

By the sound of it, Alfred was fighting a losing battle, and Bruce was more than happy to let him take care of it. He quietly closed the door to his bedroom.

In any case, the gala was no longer a viable means to furthering Bruce’s…personal motivations. Kal had already demonstrated his interest in Bruce to be akin to that of a human romance, even if anything beyond a bit of kissing was still an unknown.

It would have been one thing to ask if Kryptonians dated or married. It would be another to ask how they…copulated, and if Kal would be so kind as to give Bruce Wayne a demonstration—why yes, just here in this private room, Superman—

Bruce would just have to get through the gala as per Bruce Wayne’s usual and after that, he could begin to put the foundations down to finally reveal his identity.

Bruce was very, very late to the charity gala.

It was Metropolis, after all, and while Bruce Wayne had an abundance of pride for Gotham, there was very little to spare for any other city.

Many had already taken advantage of the drinks, and with looser inhibitions, a slip of the tongue was gold for a reporter like Lois. He found her easily enough, prowling the outskirts of the room, clearly having already gotten something out of the masses and already sizing her next victim up. He wandered over to her and she hardly spared him a glance.

“Mr. Wayne,” she said wryly. “Don’t you think you're here a little too early?”

“Ms. Lane, this is when the party is at its peak. The best time to arrive, really,” Bruce tittered. He made a show of looking behind her. “And your guest…?”

“He’ll be here for his part, don't worry.”

“Ah. I hope I can catch him after then. I did promise some advice.”

Lois smiled into her glass. “I'm sure he'll appreciate it, Mr. Wayne, but I'm not so sure he’ll need it.”

She walked off then, leaving Bruce to ruminate over that. Well, it wasn't as if Bruce had asked Clark to keep it a secret.

In any case, Bruce had already known to expect Kal soon. He'd arrive a few minutes before his speech, as he’d informed Batman, stay for a few minutes after and then he'd be off. Bruce made his way over to the refreshment table.

“Easy, now,” Bruce said, holding back a smile. Dick turned with a mouth full of food. Bruce jerked a thumb towards the balcony doors. “What do you think about going to say ‘hi’ to Superman?”

True to his word, Kal touched down not a minute after Dick had dragged Bruce out to the balcony. He gave the two of them a polite smile. “Mr. Wayne. Thank you for inviting me.”

“It was to my benefit, Superman. I should be thanking you.”

“Well, I'm certainly happy to support a great cause.”

They smiled at each other and with how little it appealed to Bruce to actually turn up his Wayne charm, it was bewilderingly awkward. Bruce clapped his hands together.

“Well! I’ve got to check if the organizers are ready for your entrance.” Bruce said and then patted Dick’s shoulder. “Can you keep Mr. Superman company for a bit, chum?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it, Bruce,” he said, pushing Bruce towards the doors. Bruce caught Kal’s eyes to give a rueful shrug and was rewarded with a humored grin.

“He’s safe with me, Mr. Wayne,” Kal said and made a cheeky shooing motion as well. Bruce spun around to hide any revealing emotions that might have climbed his face.

It was easy enough to tip off the hosts on Superman’s arrival, as they had been salivating on it for some time now. He was back out on the balcony in no time at all. Kal had certainly noticed him again, but he let himself melt a little into the shadows to watch Dick bounce around Kal in excitement.

In truth, Bruce had been worried about the effect letting someone else into his personal life would have on Dick, even if that someone was Superman. A little hero worship was one thing, it would be a whole other to run into the kitchen to see Clark eating breakfast, dressed in Bruce's clothes—

Bruce pushed himself off the wall and cleared his throat.

“—and she didn't even end up winning first place anyway! It was a total waste,” Dick was blathering. Kal nodded along very seriously.

“Oh, I almost forgot! I asked Alfred and even he says Gray Ghost Returns is the best. And Alfred’s old and sophisticated. So there!” Dick rambled happily, skipping over to tug at Bruce. “He said that, right, B?”

Dick froze then, an abject look of horror climbing his face in stark contrast to the confusion that overtook Superman’s. Bruce could feel his chest tighten, forcing himself not to take a step back, or let his heart race or let anything seem amiss, because perhaps if he could ignore it, let it go, Kal would—he wouldn’t know—

But Kal was looking at Dick, with something like clarity dawning in those wide blue eyes and then they were on Bruce.

“Bruce,” Kal breathed. He took a step forward, face shuttering through just about every emotion in the books, shocked and hopeful and so very fond—

“They’re expecting you for your speech now, Superman,” Bruce said quickly, grabbing Dick by the arm. He threw open one of the doors and rushed in to be immediately swarmed by the crowd, so that even when Kal found his way to Bruce’s left, there was no privacy. They didn’t speak a word to each other up to the stage.

“Mr. Wayne,” Kal finally said, forcing Bruce to turn and give him a professional smile.

“Yes, Superman?” Bruce replied, a perfect stranger.

“...Thank you,” Kal finished after a long moment with a kind smile of his own, but his eyes bored into Bruce’s soul. Bruce bobbed his head and let himself and Dick get overtaken by the crowd.

“Bruce,” Dick whispered, tugging on Bruce’s sleeve as Bruce wove doggedly through the crowd.

“Not now, Dick,” Bruce said distractedly. “It’s time for us to go.”

He’d never been more grateful that he had played up his reputation as a flaky sort of man. He shrugged off the few who tried to stop and speak to him, gesturing down at Dick with a sort of kids, you know—

“Bruce,” Dick said, but Bruce was already speaking into his ear piece.

“Take Dick home, Alfred. I need you to have another car sent up. I have business in Metropolis tonight.”

“Understood, Master Bruce,” came the immediate response. They clambered down a flight of stairs to the entrance.

If he timed it well, he would have a fifteen minute head start. Kal had been expected to speak for ten minutes and undoubtedly, Kal would give at least five minutes for questions before gracefully excusing himself. His closest property was just shy of twenty minutes away, but he was certain he could—

“Dad,” came the plaintive cry from his side when they’d made it outside. Bruce froze and was immediately devastated to see Dick’s bottom lip tremble. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Oh, chum, hey,” Bruce murmured, squatting down to drag a knuckle across his cheek. “I’m not mad at you, Dick, I promise. Honestly, it’s been my fault for letting it go on like this. If anyone’s got to be sorry it's me, alright? Can you forgive me?”

Bruce let him blow his nose into the handkerchief he fished out of his pocket, just as his car pulled up to them.

“Only—only if you take me out on patrol more often,” Dick whispered into Bruce’s ear.

Bruce ruffled Dick's hair, freeing it out of its styling. “You drive a hard bargain there, Mr. Grayson.”

Dick gave a wet laugh as Alfred exited the driver’s seat.

“Another car will be sent up in just a moment, sir,” Alfred said, opening the door to the backseat.

“Thank you, Alfred.”

“You’re gonna tell him everything, right, Bruce?” Dick asked, shuffling across the leather seats. Alfred waited with the door open in a very pointed silence.

“Yeah, I am,” Bruce said softly. “He deserves it.”

It took a half hour after their last words to each other for Clark to find him, which Bruce didn’t know whether to be impressed or annoyed by.

Bruce had been hoping his choice to camp out in one of his Metropolis properties would have given him at least a little more time to prepare. Surely Clark would have started at the Manor and then scoured the greater Gotham area, which, even with Superman’s abilities, would have taken some time.

Oddly, it's not Superman who arrives at his door, but Clark. It made sense; it'd be a headache to separate Superman from Bruce Wayne if they were seen. Clark listened for something at the front door and when he seemed to find it, stared at the hidden camera expectantly.

“Bastard,” Bruce muttered under his breath and watched Clark’s face split into a grin. He let Clark in, and for a moment, all they did was stare at each other. Bruce was the first to turn away.

“How'd you find me?”

“I finally got to meet the voice in your ear,” Clark said, tapping his own. “He was very helpful.”

Bruce pressed his lips together. Figures.

“Bruce…I—”

“Why did you avoid me after the interview?” Bruce cut in. Clark was patient enough that he'd get the answers he was here for eventually, but it didn't mean that Bruce couldn't fish for his own.

“Ah, Lois told me I probably shouldn't have made such a public announcement.” Clark shuffled his feet. “I was planning to take my cues from you after that.”

“Hm, how inconvenient. I was planning to do the same from you,” Bruce said wryly. “I have no frame of reference for Kryptonian culture.”

Clark shrugged. “Neither do I.”

Bruce swallowed heavily and turned to lead them further in so he wouldn't have to look at Clark.

“I…I was hoping when I finally learned who you were, it would be by your own decision…” Clark started hesitantly.

Bruce grimaced. “It's not that I wanted for you to be kept in the dark. This part of me—it’s a secret I guard with my life. I…I needed…”

Clark had been watching him through this, serious and intent, but for the life of him, Bruce really could not parse out what it was that Clark was aiming for.

“What is it that you want?” Bruce blurted brusquely, instead of finishing his lackluster explanation. He crossed his arms as if to shield himself. “Now that you…know.”

What will change? Bruce couldn't say. Now that there's nothing I can hide from you.

“Whatever you'll let me have,” Clark said immediately, all sincerity. “I'll take whatever it is that you'll give, if it's just teammates, or—or something more.”

Clark's eyes locked on his and the depth of them held not an ounce of deception. “Honestly, I'm really hoping it won't be less than what we have now, but if it is, I'll understand. You were pushed to give yourself up before you were ready.”

And—God, that was… just Clark, wasn't it? It was the real reason he’d shown up as Clark Kent, meek reporter, not indestructible Superman. He thought he had pressured Bruce into revealing his identity, as if Bruce hadn't taken his chance away too. He wanted Bruce to face the hunched-shouldered, easy-to-overlook human man because it would be easier on Bruce to push him away.

Bruce choked out a strangled laugh. “You're horrible, did you know?”

“What?”

“What in the hell kind of earnest farm boy…?” Bruce said under his breath and Clark sputtered. “I can't believe I'm going to strip you out of your clothes right now.”

“You…really don't have to, that's kind of—that's what I was saying.” Clark said, looking utterly bewildered when Bruce grabbed him by the belt.

Bruce ran a hand through his hair in disbelief. “Clark, I'm going to be honest here—there is absolutely no altruism involved on my part.”

Clark laughed and Bruce let himself be kissed for a long while before tugging at Clark again impatiently. Clark drew himself away to grin his blinding smile.

“So you really like me, too?”

“Of course not,” Bruce said immediately, having divested Clark of his jacket and tie and now working at the buttons on his shirt.

Clark's face fell and Bruce rubbed his temples. “Don't make me say it.”

Clark's grin reappeared but Bruce could hardly dredge up anything more than a frown because after that, there was very little to talk about anyway.

“Rob—Dick isn't in trouble, right?” Clark asked a long while later, when they were both stretched across the bed.

Bruce grunted from where he was splayed on his stomach. “We just need to brush up on methods to maintain confidentiality.”

“He's a smart boy,” Clark said agreeably, hands behind his head.

“Yes. It was you who was the problem,” Bruce said, turning his face towards Clark. Clark rolled his eyes. “Besides, it should be easier for him now—there won't be anything he needs to keep from you anymore.”

And Clark, propped up on an arm, looked so pleased at that that Bruce had no choice but to press him back into the pillows.

“Might I ask you about Gotham's Bat? Did things ever pan out?”

Superman was all smiles at the reporter’s questions, hands folded demurely in his lap, but at this one, his face fell.

“He's a tough one to crack, Ma'am. I thought he might get used to me after all this time, but…well, you know his reputation, after all.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” the reporter said, offering a consoling pat on the knee. “It looks like even Superman isn't immune to troubles of love.”

“Yes,” Superman sighed, forlornly. “I had my hopes, but maybe it was just too long of a shot.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I'm sure you'll find someone, Superman. You must know you're a global—no, a universal heartthrob.”

“That's very kind of you, but I think I'll need some time to get past all this.” Superman said, rubbing the back of his neck. He paused then, and a small smile rose to his face. “Although…”

“Although?” The reporter echoed, leaning in.

Bruce tensed from where he'd been flipping through documents in his office, giving his full attention to his tablet screen.

“It is strange I’m allowed to continue visiting Gotham, is it not?” Kal mulled.

“Strange, indeed!”

Bruce’s fingers tensed around his pen.

“And Robin’s had a few things to tell me about Gotham's Bat.”

“Did he?”

“Yes!” Kal said delightedly. “So between you and me…”

“Don't you dare,” Bruce muttered under his breath.

And by the way Kal's smirk widened, Bruce knew he heard.

“I think Batman might have a little crush on me too.”