Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Batman hated most magic users.

He could make exceptions for the likes of Zatanna as well as other allies of theirs. Especially the ones who weren’t annoying.

That couldn’t be said for the… villain they just finished fighting.

Perhaps villain wasn’t the word for him. Crazed and overpowered loon? Apt. Single-minded magician on a mission to ruin his life? A bit on the nose, but true nonetheless.

Either way, it made for a very irritating fight. A fight that, it would seem, was about to last a lot longer than the twenty minutes it took Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman to subdue him.

Quite early on in the battle, if it could be called that, Batman had been hit with some kind of purple beam. One he took for Clark, he felt should be noted. In turn, it sent him careening into Superman’s side, stopped only by his face hitting Clark’s neck.

By the end of it, it was very clear that Mister Mischief, or whatever the hell this guy was calling himself, didn’t have nefarious intentions.

There, wrapped up in Diana’s lasso, he was spouting some bullshit about love and how sad he was to see even Earth’s mightiest heroes so woefully without.

Cue a triple eyeroll.

“What did you hit Batman with?” Diana demanded, tightening the lasso around him.

The guy’s face lit up like he had won the lottery. “He is destined to fall in love! Skin contact, that’s all it will take for my spell to take root!” His cackles echoed around the empty street, he was sounding more and more disconnected from reality.

Meanwhile, Superman was remembering the feel of Batman’s stubble against his bare neck. Skin contact, huh?

Batman ground his teeth, he didn’t have time for whatever the hell this guy was planning. He felt Superman’s skin connect with his, if he understood this man correctly that meant he was supposed to fall in love with him any moment now.

What the lunatic didn’t know was that there wasn’t a spell that could force someone to go through something they already had.

Now he just needed to know how to tell Clark and Diana he was fine without telling them the… other thing.

“Stop listening to the ramblings of a mad man and take him to whatever jail suits him best.”

“B, you got hit with an unidentified ray! We can’t ignore him now.”

Bruce had to take a measured step forward so Clark’s sheer concern for him didn’t knock him to the ground. “Obviously I feel fine. I would say otherwise. At my next convenience I will call Zatanna and have her check me over.”

“Superman, we can get back to the Watchtower and have this conversation there, we need to focus on getting this man off the street.” Diana’s tone offered no room for argument, for which Bruce was grateful.

Less so for the implicit order of going back to the Watchtower, but he supposed it wouldn’t kill him.

“Fine. I’ll call Zatanna and have her meet us there, and make sure Batman actually comes with us.” Clark’s pointed look definitely meant he would resort to super strength if Bruce pushed him.

There went his escape plan.

“You act as if I am incapable of caring for myself.”

Diana and Clark looked at him with matching expressions that told him just what they thought of that. He might be capable but he was very rarely willing.

With an eyeroll blocked by the lenses of his cowl he walked away, making his way to the nearest Zeta Tube entry point. Thankfully they were sparsely littered throughout Metropolis, for occasions such as these where one of the flightless league members was sent to help with whatever big bad caught Superman’s scent.

Superman walked behind him, not bothering to mention that he could fly them to the next one, knowing it would get him a scathing glare and silent threat of a stabbing via kryptonite.

Instead, he silently sent an S.O.S. message to Zatanna, begging her to meet them at the Watchtower; that way Bruce couldn’t get out of getting checked up.

Bruce, for all it was worth, was trying his best to come up with some kind of a plan. Something to say to throw everyone off the idea that he had been hit with an honest to god love spell.

In the end his efforts were for naught. He simply hoped the man they fought was far enough from sane that they believed the spell didn’t work.

Which, truthfully, it already had.

While there was no spell that could add to whatever feelings Bruce already had for Kal, this spell seemed intent on making it more and more difficult to hide.

He noticed it amidst the fight. He did things, like keeping Clark away from the man, without thinking. Even though he realistically knew it would have been best for all three of them to work in tandem.

Now, as they entered the Watchtower, it was manifesting in the way he nearly couldn’t resist scooting his chair closer to Kal’s. The way he felt entranced watching Superman turn into Clark Kent as soon as they left the streets of Metropolis.

He needed to get a grip.

Diana and Zatanna were right behind them, entering the Watchtower with little flair but much worry.

“We need to get you to the med-bay for a full diagnostic. He said it was a skin contact induced love spell under Diana’s lasso?” Zatanna lacked her usual zest, clearly more concerned with what was happening to Bruce.

“Yes, but I highly doubt-”

“He’s already made contact with my skin. I should go with.” Clark cut him off, not wanting to let a potentially spelled man talk his way out of this.

At his words Zatanna looked surprised, “You’re sure?”

“Positive. Didn’t think anything of it at the time but I am sure.”

Zatanna’s face gained something of a sympathetic, yet grim, look.

“Something tells me this doesn’t bode well.”

“I’m sorry Superman. I don’t mean to worry anyone. It is just… spells like the kind I am guessing this one is, are usually easier to remove when the subject has not fallen victim to the curse.”

“Said subject is standing right here. I feel absolutely fine. Just do a once over and make sure everyone is worried about nothing.” Batman cut in, hoping that the quicker this moved along the quicker he could hide away from Clark’s piercing blue eyes.

“He’s right… he has been acting normal since he was hit. Perhaps the spell wasn’t as strong as Sir Surreal thought it was? He was quite weak for a supposed warrior.” Diana added, having been otherwise silent.

Ah right, Sir Surreal is what he spouted at them at the top.

“See, Diana is likely right. If I'm feeling fine and according to you a spell like this is difficult to manage, don’t you think I would be acting out of the ordinary?” Bruce was really hoping they would send him home with no fuss. It was getting more and more difficult to not throw himself at Clark.

“Let’s stop speculating over Bruce being cursed and get him checked out, hmm?” Superman spoke, sounding just as authoritative as he did when yelling at villains.

Bruce just barely bit back a Brucie-type response regarding Superman “checking him out” whenever he so pleased.

Through gritted teeth he, instead, said, “If we must.” Before walking passed the rest, through the door to the med-bay.

He had still yet to come up with a good reason as to why the spell might not have worked on him.

The room was enshrouded in silence as Zatanna worked. It reminded Bruce that at least the rest of the league wasn’t here to witness this. He knew one word from Hal Jordan and he would have lost it.

After a few long minutes Zatanna hummed. Not a comforting sound.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Clark was the first to break the silence left in her wake.

“Well… I have some concerns.” Zatanna paused, leaving all three of them on the edge.

It was Clark’s impatient hand wave that got her to speak again.

“He was definitely cursed. And it has definitely already taken root and activated. The thing that is concerning me is… well, to put it plainly he should be acting much out of his normal range.”

“What do you mean?” Diana got the words out first, though all three of them had been thinking it.

“In simple terms, he should be throwing himself at Superman here. This curse is abnormally strong, the kind experienced magic users know better than to use on a whim. The kind that get sewn into the fabric of someone’s being and need to be carefully unwoven to reverse.” Zatanna spoke gravely, needing those with her to understand the severity of the situation.

“How long does that take? The… unweaving.” Bruce spoke, needing to know just how long he would have to deal with the increasing urge to tear off his cowl and beg Clark to kiss him.

Three pairs of eyes faced him once more, looking at him with curiosity.

“It will take me at least a week to find the spell’s origin, another day or two to equate that with your specific biology, then a couple hours of working with you here to remove it.” She spoke clinically, little emotion coloring her words.

“How can we help?” Clark asked, ever the worrier.

Zatanna thought for a moment, glancing between Bruce and Clark, noticing the way Bruce stared at Clark’s hands. “Grab his hand, without the glove. I need to see how that affects the spell.

Clark made to take off Bruce’s gauntlets. Bruce was forced to rip his hand back, if Superman started undressing him, as innocent as it was, there was no saying how he would react. “My suit will fry itself shocking you if you try and remove it. I’d rather not replace the inner workings, if you don’t mind?”

He meant to sound stern, but he could hear the plea in his own voice.

Clark lifted his hands in surrender, face colored with something scarily close to awe.

Zatanna and Diana made eye contact with each other behind their backs, noting the first strange interaction.

Bruce looked down and away, focusing on removing his gauntlet and the glove underneath before sticking his left hand out in Clark’s direction.

Once Clark’s warm palm settled on his own he had to clench his right hand to prevent himself from running his fingers under Clark’s sleeve, perfectly within reach.

“Interesting, the spell has stopped moving. As if it has calmed. Batman, how do you feel?”

“The same, just while holding hands, I suppose.” A blatant lie. His teeth were no longer on edge, he no longer felt an itch under his skin. But, they already established that he should be practically foaming at the mouth for Clark, so he wasn’t going to give them incriminating details.

“His heart rate is off. I noticed it during the fight, I assumed it was adrenaline from being hit with magic, but it’s changed again.” Superman spoke with finality, no room to argue.

God, Bruce wanted to kiss him. He knew his heartbeat well enough to know that Bruce had slowed it by half a beat to compensate for the way it wanted to race? He was simply asking to be smothered in affection.

“I have supreme control over my heart rate. That is an inaccurate basis for concern.” To prove it he slowed his heart as much as he could in less than a minute.

Clark’s eyes widened. “Don’t do that! You’re gonna stress me out!”

Bruce couldn’t help the half smile pulled out of him. “Fine. But don’t use that as a metric for how I’m doing.” He was still giddy with the knowledge that Clark knew his resting heart beat pattern.

“Superman, perhaps we should leave Zatanna and Batman, see if there is anything else she can glean when it is just the two of them? You haven’t left his sight yet, perhaps that has something to do with this.” Diana gestured towards the door, hoping Clark would follow her out.

Clark gently placed Bruce’s hand on the bed next to him and nodded, following Diana to the common room.

Diana sat while Clark paced, clearly worked up over everything. It was only Diana’s grounding presence that kept him from listening in on whatever was going on in the med-bay.

All the while, Zatanna was examining the signature of magic left all over Batman. “Perhaps you can shed some light for me? Is there any reason you can think of that would mean you are differently affected?” Her tone was soothing and genuine, she really just wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to be hurt by whatever magic was coursing through him.

Bruce cleared his throat, debating whether or not he could reveal this to her.

“Batman. It is imperative that you tell me.” She figured he was hiding something.

With a sigh he spoke. “It’s a love spell. It doesn't matter how powerful it is, it can’t turn something real into something artificial…” He hoped that was sufficient enough.

Zatanna’s eyes widened, his words sinking in. “You mean to say-”

“Yes. He can hear all of this if he so chooses, don't give him something to listen to, please.” Once again, the plea in his voice caught him off guard.

Zatanna nodded. “Yes of course. Well… I have to ask how you are coping.”

“I am holding on by the last thread of my self control.” He spoke honestly, there was no room for him to make up excuses.

Zatanna blew out a breath, as if the thought alone exhausted her. She examined him again.

It was only when her eyes widened and snapped up to meet his, that he could feel dread settling into his bones.

“I’m sorry about this…”

“Out with it. It can’t get much worse.”

“Being apart from him… It’s making the magic react negatively. You’re going to start deteriorating if you’re away from him. It will take a while, days of no contact before it's irreparable, but it is not a good idea to be away from him for more than a few hours at most.”

“I suppose I have been wrong before.”

Zatanna couldn’t help the small smile at his self-deprecating tone. “Seriously Batman, no more than a few hours if you desperately need to be apart. I would say four at most, longer if you spend that time in physical contact- the more the better. The hand holding really was doing wonders.”

“This is getting more and more cliche by the minute. You’re saying if I hug him for long enough I could get away with being away from him for a while?”

Zatanna settled an unimpressed look at him, “I’m saying if you sustain maximum physical contact with him for upwards of five hours you might be able to stretch your limit to double what it is currently.” She already resolved to share this all with Superman, he would ensure Batman wouldn’t risk himself for the sake of convenience.

“That’s about the length of a work day… I can work with that.” Bruce wouldn’t admit that the prospect of being pressed against Clark was an appealing one. Despite everything he still had some semblance of dignity.

He stood to make his way back to Clark and Diana, pausing to ensure there was nothing left for Zatanna to tell him.

She settled him with a firm glare, “You should tell him. That would solve many issues we're running into here.”

“Good joke.” And with that Bruce made his way to the common space.

Superman stopped pacing when Bruce walked into the room, his attention focused on whatever he or Zatanna might have to say.

“I have… additional news.”

“Zatanna, you’re going to scare them.” Bruce looked back toward Clark and Diana, “Apparently the magic doesn’t like when I’m away from you.” He forced his words to come out bored.

Zatanna scoffed. “That hardly scratched the surface. Superman, while I am figuring out the solution to this you cannot go too long without being around him. Looking at the progression of the magic while you were out I figure it will take about four hours before it starts taking a toll on Batman.”

“What does that mean, exactly?” Superman couldn’t help but interject as she paused.

“It will start with physical discomfort, it will quickly escalate to pain and a worse need to be near you. Now, the physical contact seemed to abate the effects of this, but only marginally. The longer you touch him, the longer you can both go without seeing the other. I would need to do a lot more observation to get exact times down to the minute, but for now it seems you can double the time between exposure with about five hours of prolonged physical contact. The more skin the better.”

“It only becomes irreparable after a few days, I’m sure I will be fine with a daily visit before patrol. Are we done here?”

Three sets of eyes snapped towards Bruce.

“Absolutely not. If you go on like that it will only make it more difficult to unweave the magic. The more it physically affects you the deeper into you it sinks.” Zatanna turned her attention to Clark, “He will be more receptive to you, do not let him make his condition worse.” Her tone was stern.

Clark nodded, “You can count on me. I’ll come up with a good schedule for us. I’ll make sure neither of us abandon all civilian duties, but for now we’ll have to be last resort calls for the league, sound fair?”

Diana nodded. “I will relay a message to the rest of our team. There will be no need for details until the two of you are able to return to consistent field work, then it will be up to you to tell them anything relevant.”

Despite being ignored, Bruce felt relieved.

Clark was going to keep an eye on him. Diana was taking care of the league. Zatanna was going to figure out his curse. It seemed like all he had to do was relish in the attention from Clark and hold it together enough to retain his dignity after the next week.

“Now, we should get back to Gotham. You said physical contact, what should that look like?” Superman looked like he was ready to take notes.

“For best results you should maximize the amount of skin touching for as long as possible, presumably chest to chest or back, I would suggest using nightly downtime for best results. If you manage to sleep and remain in physical contact it will make your day a lot easier.”

Bruce managed to keep a passive look on his face, being sure to not visibly react to being all but prescribed cuddle time with Clark.

Clark nodded, giving Zatanna another opportunity to continue.

“Baman should be the only one to feel the discomfort, this means it will be imperative that you also watch the amount of time you spend apart. He is obviously much less likely to report any pain he might start feeling.” Zatanna couldn’t help the small glare she levelled at Batman.

He felt his eyes roll beneath his cowl.

He was eager to get this week over with. How he would manage to stay completely sane in the face of Clark watching his every waking move? He would figure it out.

It didn’t help that Clark looked so scared and concerned at the possibility of Bruce being in pain.

“Trust me, I will keep very close tabs on him until you tell us the curse is removed.”

Why they all went from calling it a spell to a curse- perhaps Bruce didn’t want to know.

“Let's get this over with. I’m dangerously close to my threshold for idiocy already.” He moved past them, heading for the .

Clark’s eyes widened as he hurried to follow him. Once they were out of the room he spoke up. “Heading to Gotham? I figure it will be easier for me to fly to and from Metropolis than it would be for you to make the commute.”

There he went, being considerate again. He was going to make this week particularly excruciating for Bruce, wasn’t he? “Fine, meet me in the cave.” With that, Bruce disappeared from the tower.

He had a singular moment alone to try and compose himself. All he managed was to tug off his cowl.

Clark and Bruce stood in silence for a long moment, neither knowing exactly how to break it. Bruce took a deep breath and decided.

“It seems like we will be in for a long week. You’re free to go to Metropolis as you please, don’t feel shackled to me.” He silently hoped Clark would leave for a few minutes to collect some personal items, just to give him time to breathe and come up with a plan.

“I don’t know… Zatanna made it sound bad. How about I run over right quick, collect clothes and such for the next week, and then we can come up with some kind of plan?”

Bruce turned to avoid Clark catching his smile. He sounded very midwestern on occasion.

“Fine by me. I need to write up a report about the fight. I don’t want anyone in the league coming to me for questions.” He made his way towards the bat-computer, hoping the small amount of distance would mean his palms would stop itching with the need to hold him.

Clark glanced between Bruce and the exit, dreading leaving him alone for even a moment. “I’ll be back soon. Holler if you need me and I’ll drop everything to fly back, okay?”

Bruce let his gaze land on Clark, “I have four hours before I should even feel anything. Take your time, Clark.” He hated the way Clark’s name always tasted like sugar on his tongue.

Clark’s answering smile took the edge off.

With a look that lingered a moment too long, Superman took off heading for Metropolis.

Bruce let out the deep exhale he had been holding in. His posture dropped, leaving him slouched over his keyboard. His loud groan downed out the sound of someone making their way into the cave. He was not getting to that report tonight.

“Woah, what’s got your cape in a twist, B? The fight really go that bad?” Tim sipped out of his mug, based on the time Bruce could only assume Alfred had forced him to drink some cocoa.

“Magic users.”

Tim’s loud cackle echoed around them, it sent a shiver down Bruce’s spine with how eerily similar it sounded to Dick.

“What’d you get hit with now? It’s gotta be rough if you’re sulking in the suit.” Tim made his way to the chair next to Bruce.

Bruce slowly lifted his head, he knew there was no use hiding it from any of his kids- but especially Tim. “... Love spell.” That didn’t mean he would make it easy.

Tim’s eyebrows got lost in his bangs with how far up they shot. “Hilarious. Tell me more, who are you meant to be in love with?”

Bruce waited until he had a mouthful of cocoa, “Clark.” He got a little bit of joy out of Tim struggling to not spit his drink out.

“You’re a jerk for waiting for me to be mid-sip for that. But I guess you’re already getting due punishment…” Tim trailed off with a wide grin.

Bruce glared. A look that hadn’t worked on any of his kids in years.

“How’re you gonna get around telling them it didn’t affect you?” Tim’s tone was conversational, a practiced kind of casual, the way he would talk to someone as Timmy Drake-Wayne at a gala, not the way he normally talked to Bruce.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll never let someone try to convince me of nature over nurture ever again. You are all far too much like me for that.”

Tim smiled, a small, relieved thing. He was glad his dad was past trying to deny it.

“So? What’s your excuse?”

“...I haven’t made it quite that far yet. Zatanna already said some pretty incriminating things, plus he has to be by my side for the next week at least, to avoid the magic going haywire.”

Tim’s grin bordered on feral, “Oh, Dick’s gonna have a field day! You get whammied and have a forced proximity thing going for you? Nevermind Dick, Jason is going to love all of this.”

Bruce was glad that, if nothing else, the hilarity would bring his kids some joy.

“He’ll be back any minute. Got any suggestions?” Bruce was desperate, and Tim usually had good ideas.

“Other than the truth, you mean? Hmm, a good ole fashion,” He cleared his throat and dropped his voice, “I’m Batman might work.”

“On anyone other than Clark. I was thinking of something along the lines of a Tibetan monk who taught me a method of opposing magic?”

“Pfft, how many times can you actually get away with that? They’re going to start getting suspicious and ask where the hell you keep finding monks in Tibet.” Tim set his mug on the small table to his left and turned his attention to the computer in front of them.

“Well, I’m open to any other ideas if you have them. Otherwise I might just rely on the silent treatment and blame it on being angry someone managed to hit me.” Bruce faced the computer as well, watching as Tim pulled surveillance footage.

“Managed to hit you? You dove in front of his beam to save Clark, don’t be stupid.”

Bruce forced back a smile at Tim, his kids did always know what to say. “What’s with the fight footage? There’s not much there I can use as an excuse.”

“Just figured I would double check. You were briefly whammied, after all.”

Bruce would have to stop letting Dick take them for weekends away.

“Okay, how about you just give a half truth? Give him something to focus on and take the attention away from how you should be reacting?” Tim tucked his foot under him and swiveled his chair to face Bruce.

Bruce followed suit, shucking off his boots and turning his attention to Tim. “The magic is affecting me, perhaps that would be the best course of action.”

Tim smiled as Bruce lost himself in a train of thought.

“Hey, B?” Tim waited until Bruce looked up at him. “You should tell him.”

Bruce’s answering smile was almost sad. “I know, little wing. I know.”

Tim was about to open his mouth again when the computer alerted them to a superspeeding presence approaching.

“Alright, I grabbed some stuff to last me a couple of days. I think the best thing to do would be to- oh, hey Tim!” Clark flew in, wet hair and bare feet threatening to leave butterflies in Bruce’s gut.

“Hey, Clark. I briefly heard what’s going on. But you know Bruce, Fort Knox, this one. Care to let me in a bit?” His gaze briefly flicked to Bruce, making it clear he was buying him a bit more time to think.

“Don’t I know it! Well, here’s what Zatanna told us. Apparently, B got hit with a pretty strong curse, it makes being apart from me detrimental. She thinks that with no interference he’d last about four hours away from me before he was in pain, a few days and the damage would be irreparable. She also gave us some stipulations that meant we could extend the time apart to about eight hours, at her best estimation.”

Tim stifled a laugh. “Only you two, I swear. So, what are these stipulations? No use conserving Bruce’s dignity, I’ll get it out of him one way or another.” He didn’t mention the fact that Clark avoided calling it a love spell.

Clark looked towards Bruce, waiting for him to nod.

“I guess skin contact makes the magic chill out? She wasn’t able to give us too much but we did a few tests up at the Watchtower.” Clark let his hand rub at the back of his neck.

It was then that Bruce realised he must have showered at his apartment, if his wet hair and pajamas meant anything.

That was why he took so long…

“You know we have working showers here, right?” Bruce watched Tim and Clark’s eyes find his.

“Wha- oh! Right, yeah of course. I just figured, since I was already there, it would be best to get it out of the way for tonight?” He hadn’t meant to trail off like a question.

Tim laughed, he was about to give Bruce an out if he wanted it. “Man! This must be some strong magic if it’s affecting B already!” He turned towards Clark with one last glance at Bruce. “He hates letting anyone use our bathrooms!”

Clark’s eyes snapped back to Bruce. “Is the magic making you feel different? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“That sounds like it’s my cue, good night to you both. Good luck.” Tim wasn’t sure who the luck was aimed at as he exited the cave. He didn’t wait for any responses.

“Bruce? The magic, what’s it doing?”

Clark’s concern was palpable. Bruce was torn between looking away and memorizing the exact cadence of his voice as he spoke.

“Tim’s right. It seems the magic has made me… more receptive to a more domestic version of my life.”

“Bruce. Quit with the riddles and talking in circles please. I’m on the fray enough as it is?” Clark was pleading.

“I have the urge to be more affectionate than usual. Will that suffice?” He couldn’t help the way his teeth clenched.

Clark smiled. Wide and bright as sunshine. “Good thing your doctor’s orders are skin contact! Come on, let’s get out of the cave.”

Bruce was shocked at the lack of questions. He assumed Clark would have all but interrogated him after a statement like that.

He wouldn’t look the gift horse in the mouth. So, instead, he silently followed Clark out of the cave, already walking through like he owned the place.

Could be half owned, if you let him. Bruce’s traitorous mind echoed.

With a stiff shake of his head he let himself be led through the manor, only a last passing thought to his boots sitting on the floor by the batcomputer.

“Alright, we need to get you into a shower and then figure out what kind of schedule we’ll be working with here. Do you want us to stay in a guest room..?”

Bruce hated the way Clark sounded so tentative, it made him long to push the wet strands of hair off of his face and hold him until he understood exactly how much Bruce cared.

“Don’t be ridiculous, we’ll stay in my room.” He bit out instead.

Clark, ever the optimist, simply smiled brightly and walked up to Bruce’s door, as if he had done it a hundred times over. An increasingly loud part of Bruce’s mind told him he should be that comfortable in the space.

In a moment of spell induced weakness Bruce let himself fall forwards into Clark’s back. He felt Clark try to ease him around, trying to maneuver him into a hug without losing contact with him. The action made him bite back a smile.

“Come on big guy, we gotta get you into your room now, huh?” With a quick move, one definitely aided by superspeed, Clark managed to turn around and wrap his arms around Bruce.

Over his head, Clark smiled wide, deciding he could cherish the affection while he had access to it. Bruce had astonishing self-control, if he truly wanted to avoid any contact he would be more than able to. Or he would at least communicate that to Clark, this simple point of contact was an acquiescence.

When Bruce spoke up a few long moments later, it was into Clark’s neck. “You’ll tell me if the magic makes me too overbearing, yes?” He felt Clark’s rumble of a laugh more than he heard it.

“B, I am one of the most tactile people on the planet, a few hugs won’t overload me.” He paused and heard Bruce huff, a discontented sound. “Alright, fine. If your magically induced affection happens to exceed the years of missing out on Batman hugs, I’ll let you know.”

Despite the tease, his reassurance seemed to satisfy Bruce, who nodded against him.

Clark was simply trying not to memorize the feel of Bruce’s body against his. That would be a hard thing to let go of once their week was up and Zatanna got him back to normal.

Bruce, for his part, was trying to figure out a way to describe how he felt that didn’t sound like he was talking about an overgrown cat. The thrum lingering under his skin was settled, near nonexistent. The tension was slowly seeping away from his tired body, something that hardly ever happened when he was still wrapped in kevlar.

“Alright. I have to get out of this suit. It’s got magic all over it.” Bruce finally lifted his head off of Clark. “Do you think a hot shower has any chance to get rid of the spell?”

Bruce knew his joke landed when Clark let out the airy laugh he saved for late nights and quiet moments, such as this one. “I don't think it can hurt. Might as well give it the ol’ college try.”

Bruce bit back his instinctive recitation of the etymology of the phrase, knowing Clark had heard it before.

“Early 1900’s, copyrighted in 1917 but first use of the full phrase as it’s used today was in 1927. Did I get it all?” Clark’s smirk nearly tore down every carefully constructed wall Bruce had built around his self-indulgent desires.

“Copywritten as a title of an article, otherwise spot on.” Bruce hoped there weren’t stars in his eyes, quite like he felt there were.

Clark snapped his fingers, “Darn it! I always miss one!” His wide smile chipped away at the crumbling foundation Bruce was trying to rebuild to prevent himself from kissing Clark senseless.

In an act of pure self preservation Bruce moved forward, finally entering his bedroom. “Hot shower and sleep, that’s what Alfred always told me would solve most of my problems after ten.” He didn’t chance a look back at Clark standing in the hall.

“He is a smart man.” Clark stepped into the room. “Anywhere in particular you’d like me to put my things? I don’t need much space at all.”

The roof of Bruce’s mouth itched, urging him to tell Clark that he had daydreamed about clearing out half of his furniture to make space for whatever Clark wanted to leave there permanently.

Instead, he said “There’s plenty of space in the closet and some spare hangers, if that works for you? Though, if you leave it out I’m positive Alfred would steam it for you- seeing as it was shoved into a bag for my sake.” Bruce kept his eyes trained on his open bathroom door, afraid of what his expression might look like.

“Oh I couldn’t put him through the trouble, everyone at the Planet has already seen me in my most flight rumpled suits.”

“I am going to pretend that doesn't make me want to get you a personal steamer to keep at your desk. Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to shower- I wasn’t kidding about being covered in magic. Makes me feel sticky.”

“Leave the door cracked! Just in case Zatanna was wrong, I don’t want to have to break any of your nice doors…”

When Bruce chanced a quick look over his shoulder he saw Clark rubbing the back of his neck, looking slightly abashed. Fuck if it wasn’t endearing.

Though, he was hoping to have some… privacy as he showered.

Who was he kidding, Clark had superhearing and was not shy about using it. He would have to accept being monitored all week at least.

“I’m sure Zatanna was right, but if it’ll keep you from committing some property damage I’ll leave the door cracked.” Bruce let himself give a quick smile, hopefully it came off as coy rather than the invitation Bruce had playing through his head.

Clark stood for a moment, frozen at the implications of what he just asked of Bruce and he had agreed to. By the time his mind was focused Bruce was already in the bathroom. “Thanks!”

It was going to be a long week.

Clark wasn’t kidding about missing out on years worth of hugs and affection from Batman. Most of the other league members had come to accept and appreciate Clark’s tactile nature, leaning it for a one armed hug or shoulder bump after missions.

Even Bruce’s kids had grown accustomed to it. Dick was always up for a hug, Jason could be counted on for a hip or shoulder bump, Tim usually went for one arm hugs or pressing his forehead into Clark’s side like a cat.

Cass was a mix, depending on the day and time- but she usually would let him walk with her perched on his shoulder, even on her least talkative days.

Damian… he was a tough nut to crack, there were days he acted like the kid he was and would laugh endlessly at being tossed into the air of the cave and caught just before hitting the ground, while others Clark could look at him wrong and be on the receiving end of a sharp knife.

Jon usually had to be his translator there.

But Bruce? Clark was lucky if he got a fist or elbow bump. When one of them was majorly injured there was usually a bit of affection before the inevitable blow up over how they could put themselves in such danger.

Casual hugs, though? Never really a thing for Bruce and Clark.

Bruce and his kids had their own ways of showing physical affection, Bruce managed to fit all of them under his cape at any given moment for one. But even then, unless one of them asked, hugs weren’t expected.

Clark distantly heard the water turn on in Bruce’s ensuite.

He thought about the ways he had seen Bruce show affection. The blankets draped over sleeping bodies. Once it was late enough, using his intensive training to carefully carry any one of them to their rooms, untouched whether they still technically lived in the manner or not.

The first time Clark witnessed it, it was shocking. Seeing Bruce carry what had to be upwards of two-hundred pounds of his second son, all while managing to not jostle and wake him? Clark remembered it as a religious experience.

Hell, even Jason couldn’t say anything the following day when he woke up in his room, no memory of getting there on his own.

Bruce was always willing to be someone’s pillow. Cass had taken to using his lap and shoulders for any evening naps, he stayed as still as he would on a stealth mission.

Dick managed to still use him as a jungle gym. One call of “Brace yourself!” was all he gave before he used Bruce as a springboard. Between that and Dick throwing his legs over Bruce’s lap, it was clear it was second nature to them.

Damian was still learning what he was allowed to want. Which was anything. But, for now, he stuck with sleepy late night cuddles, burrowing into Bruce’s side under at least two blankets. Always ready to excuse it as coercion because his defenses were lowered. No one ever mentioned the way he preened when Bruce pulled him in first.

Tim was quick to drape himself over Bruce’s back, using him as a standing bed when their late nights bled into early mornings and slow afternoons. Occasionally, only after the worst their jobs had to offer, he would silently take Bruce’s hand. No one would mention the rim of tears or the grounding presence it brought with it.

Stephanie was always quicker to go to one of the girls, Cass was never out of reach when she needed her. But on those nights, the quiet ones with echoes of her old Robin costume in the cave, the ones where the quiet was too loud but noise was too overwhelming, then she would go to Bruce. Silence over a shared kettle of tea and his hand on top of hers on the table made it seem a bit less suffocating.

Duke and Barbara fell into similar patterns, an arm thrown out over laughter, leaning in close when breathless with adrenaline or exhaustion. With the two of them Bruce acted like he was coaxing in strays, delicate and pushy but not overwhelming. He wanted them to feel allowed but not making it obvious.

However, the one surefire way for any of them to get Bruce in for a hug where he wouldn’t let go? A watery smile and whisper of his name, asked like a question.

Even more effective? A muted call for dad.

In an instant he would rush over, gather them up in his arms and not let go until he had to be pried away.

Clark remembered a few, severely unlucky, times he got the same treatment.

Flashes of battlefields and Kryptonite brightened by the knowledge that Bruce was there, Bruce would never let anything happen to him.

This, though? The unabashed and open affection? This would be the thing that sent him to an early grave.

He indulged himself for a moment and listened for Bruce, letting the sound of water hitting his skin and rinsing his hair bring him back to where he was. In Wayne Maner. In Bruce’s bedroom. Sitting on Bruce’s bed.

Oh lord this was shaping up to be a long week.

Clark decided he should actually go about unpacking his items, given that he already asked where to put everything.

In a swift moment Clark hung up the two suits, three days worth of pajamas, and personal care items he brought with him. In his rush he figured he could stop off back at his apartment for more things, when he needed them.

He grit his teeth in a silent reprimand that he should not get used to sharing a closet with Bruce, no matter how appealing the thought.

In a moment of weakness dressed in the kind of preparedness Batman loves, Clark shucked off his shirt. One less awkward moment to negotiate once Bruce was out of the shower, he told himself.

Clark heard the water continue to run, though now it seemed to just be soaking Bruce, he couldn’t hear any traces of soap running into the drain.

He looked between the cracked bathroom door and the large bed against the wall in the middle of the room. He made a decision.

In an instant he was laid back on the large, soft California King sized bed. Ankles crossed and hands behind him supporting his head.

He couldn’t help the involuntary sigh that escaped him as he laid there. He would need to stretch- but that could wait, the bed felt far too good to start moving around all willy-nily.

He let his eyes drift closed and his ears reach out to Bruce. He listened as the water shut off and Bruce grabbed a towel. He heard the quiet tinkling of glass bottles filled with liquids and creams lightly tapping each other. He figured it was Bruce’s skin care routine. Once upon a time there was an article about what kind of steps the Prince of Gotham took to preserve his skin.

That was one Clark was not proud to admit to reading as closely as he did.

But, if memory served, he was applying his nightly serum and moisturizer and he would be about done. He still didn’t know how Bruce managed ten steps a night after the late patrols he pulled.

He heard Bruce give himself a cursory towel dry before grabbing something off a hook in his bathroom and emerging.

Clark cracked his eyes open and was grateful to have an obscured view.

He didn’t know what to do with a very naked Bruce Wayne wrapped in a single black towel, slung low on his hips and held up only by the place it was tucked into itself.

Add the devastating image of him gently drying his hair with a towel that looked softer than Clark’s bath towels and Clark was lucky to be laying down already.

He allowed himself a moment of weakness and sat up. He drank in the sight of Bruce’s bare back facing him, water droplets slowly slipping down his spine, one of the only places that still held water.

He forced himself to lay back down on the bed as Bruce bent forward to grab something from a drawer.

“I’m going into the closet to get dressed, I trust you won’t break down the door?” Bruce’s smirk was evident in his words, Clark didn’t have to look at him to see it.

“I can promise no property damage tonight. All other days to be determined.” Clark let a teasing smile cross his face, eyes still closed.

Bruce felt the overwhelming urge to bodily throw himself on Clark. He settled for leaning over him and whispering, “I won’t even get a broken headboard for my troubles? Hm, shame.” The best of his Brucie Wayne voice surrounding Clark.

To his credit, Clark only reacted with a violent red blush. His eyes blinked open slowly, almost languidly, in opposition to the rapid pace of his heart and heat marring his skin.

He was about to open his mouth and respond when Bruce cut him off.

“Though I suppose that just shows your self control, big blue.” With a wink he straightened his back and walked to his closet, leaving the door just barely cracked open behind him.

Clark’s witty remark died in his throat, leaving his tongue feeling dry and too big for his mouth.

Clark had attended Bruce’s galas. He had seen the playboy persona in action. Hell, as press he had been on the receiving end of it a few times.

But this? The dulcet tones and intimate setting of being in Bruce Wayne’s bed were enough to have him blushing to his toes.

He knew it was a tease. A combination of how comfortable they were together, their normal teasing banter, and that damned spell.

That didn’t make the urge to cover his face and giggle like he was a pre-teen any less strong.

Bruce, for his part, was just short of slamming his head into the wall of his closet, the very same closet the spell encouraged him to leave deliberately open.

He was rapidly realising that the longer he and Clark spent apart the more difficult it was to control his previously unspoken and unacted upon urges. Or perhaps it was the spell taking root? He remembered Zatanna mentioning, a while back, that some spells settled into your psyche and grew stronger as time passed.

He hoped for his own sake and Clark's it wouldn’t get any more effective than it already was.

If it was simply his dignity on the line, he would say fuck it and listen to the spells whims.

But this? This was Clark.

The very same Clark he owed his life to many times over. The same Clark he dreamt about creating a life with. The Kal that he trusted without so much as a word between them.

The same Clark he would still be irreparably in love with when the spell was all said and done.

For that, he would have to keep it together.

He took a few deep breaths in before continuing to dry himself off. He made quick work of getting dressed after tossing his towels into the laundry.

Clark had already forgone his shirt, Bruce figured he should follow suit given that Zatanna really wouldn’t let them forget that physical contact was the solution they needed.

By the time Bruce entered the main bedroom, Clark’s blush had settled. He was sitting up on the edge of Bruce’s bed, waiting for something.

“I didn’t know which side you preferred, and seeing as its your bed I didn’t want to just claim half of it-”

“You’re rambling.” Bruce cut in.

Clark rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, B. I just don’t want to make you more uncomfortable than the spell already has.”

“No need to apologize. It’s cute.” He was going to cut out his own tongue. Not only that, he was going to feed it to the lowest bidder on the black market. Surely The Tongue of The Batman would garner enough attention.

Clark, for his part, found himself blushing yet again, though more subtle than before. “That spell really is doing a number on you.”

Bruce let out an internal sigh of relief. Other than vaguely flustered, it seemed Clark wasn’t reacting to his more… unseemly remarks. “It seems so. Either way I sleep on the left, usually. Though, I could sleep sideways in this bed and it wouldn’t matter, so I’m not very picky.”

Clark smiled. “I was going to ask if this bed was for you or your army of children, because it’s definitely big enough for everyone.”

“And yet, if any of them ever find their way here for a nap, they end up in my side.” Bruce knew he had a few bruises from well meaning naps, particularly from Dick and Damian.

“At least you’re used to it? I have a feeling that this will be the time I find out I am an obnoxious sleeper.” Clark made his way towards the right side of the bed, shuffling slightly.

Bruce walked around the bed before stopping at his nightstand. “For my own sake I hope you’re a clingy sleeper, if you aren’t I might have to tie us together for the spell to relax.” He placed his phone to charge, avoiding eye contact as they spoke about their sleeping arrangements.

Clark forced himself to relax. He didn’t want Bruce to misconstrue his nerves as discomfort.

There wasn’t a way for him to convey that ‘hey, sleeping next to my best friend who is ostensibly the love of my life because he was cursed to fall in love with me, is kind of weird- but not in the way you might think. No, I am just a few crayons short of a whole box when I’m with you and you flirt with me,’ without sounding like a lunatic.

Instead, he resolved to chill the heck out.

He could relax. He could share a bed with Bruce, that was No Big Deal. Definitely not something they only did when one of them was mortally wounded and they couldn’t bear being too far away and not being fast enough.

Clark wasn’t worried.

(He also acknowledged, he was very good at lying to himself, when the situation called for it.)

“My ma always said I was like a heat seeking furnace as a kid. I hope that stands the test of time, that sure would make things easier!” He couldn’t help rubbing the back of his neck, something of a self-sooth.

Bruce was attempting to be silently thrilled. He constantly had to sleep under piles of blankets to stay warm in the night. Chalk it up to old Gotham houses, the generally damp cold, or the sheer amount of bone breaks and muscle tears messing with his circulation- he didn’t care as long as he had enough blankets to stay warm.

Hearing Clark admit to running warm, like the sun, had him very excited at the prospect of sleeping next to him. Outside of his own selfish desires.

The brief brushes with Clark, the barest moments of physical affection Bruce allowed himself to show someone who wasn’t a family member, had given him enough to form a theory. He had trialed and tested enough to find that Clark seemed to constantly run a few degrees warmer than the average human with no ill effects.

He had been convinced the man was running a constant fever the first few times. He nearly drove himself crazy trying to figure out how to cure a Kryptonian cold. Then he saw Clark leaving the Watchtower to sunbathe.

Between the Earth and the sun.

Like a flame retardant sociopath.

But, said flame retardant boy scout at least assuaged his constant fear of Clark having a fever. And, apparently, it was safe to say he wasn’t at risk for sunburn.

Either way, he had always wondered what it would be like to have a Clark shaped personal heater. And now? He had the perfect, and perhaps only, opportunity to actually experience that.

“I run cold, I believe this set up might be advantageous.” He was ready to lay face down in his pillows. He hadn’t spoken to Clark in such a clinical nature in years. Whatever was happening to him because of this spell was continuously getting more and more annoying.

Clark cracked a smile, a wide and face splitting kind. “Advantageous, huh? You know, you aren’t gonna scare me away, B. I know you’re under magic- what’s it that Dick calls it?” He paused to think.

“Whammied.”

Clark’s smile got impossibly wider and he snapped. “Yes! Whammied. I know you’re whammied, a little Brucie isn’t the end of the world-” Clark cut himself off at the sight of Bruce’s subtle blush.

Bruce was trying to tamp it down, to no avail. His insides were going haywire. Seeing Clark reassuring him with such earnestness, sitting in his bed, shirtless but the picture of decency- it was making the itch under his skin and behind his teeth flare up.

“I’ll try not to oppose the magic so much.” Bruce forced out. “Now, plan for tomorrow?” He silently pleaded that the abrupt topic change wouldn’t be questioned.

Clark’s smile told Bruce he was more well informed than either were willing to comment on. At least not moments before they cuddled up in Bruce’s bed, as per Zatanna’s orders.

“Alright, the flight from here to Metropolis is only a couple of minutes, I assume we both have to be in at work around the same time? I usually try to be there by 8:30- which means I arrive closer to 9 most days.” Clark shuffled slightly closer to Bruce, who was still standing at the side of his bed.

“For the sake of this… spell I will regulate my schedule to a standard 9 to 5 and take an hour lunch mid-day, so if you have the chance to make it back from Metropolis?” Bruce paused to think for a moment.

“Though, Tim seemed to get a huge kick out of the whole spell thing, so between him and Lucius I could probably sneak away longer and meet you in Metropolis so Superman doesn't have to be seen commuting between there and Gotham.”

Clark finally settled on, what was going to be, his side of the bed. “And your reason that Bruce Wayne is commuting to Metropolis for a week?”

Bruce swore he could feel his fingernails growing as the spell nearly choked him. “A walking midwestern wet dream seems reason enough, no?” Bruce let his face settle into a smirk, rather than the horrified-at-himself look he wanted.

Clark raised an eyebrow and tried to ignore his blush. “My, my, Mister Wayne, how scandalous! You mean to tell me you are to publicly court mild mannered reporter Clark Kent?” He hoped his smile wasn’t too obviously giddy as he dramatically pressed a hand to his chest.

“I wear scandal very well, Mister Kent. You of all people know that.” The flirting took the edge off, apparently the magic wasn’t picky about how genuine he was being, as long as it filled him with that satisfied feeling.

“A public effort won’t go unnoticed, Bruce. You’ll be practically walking into the lion’s den if you get within a hundred feet of the Planet- are you sure you don’t want me to fly over?” Clark’s concern was written all over his face, well, concern and a pretty blush threatening Bruce’s heart health.

Bruce bit back a pleased smile at the thought Clark was giving this.

“It would be much easier to write off Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent than it would be for Superman and Bruce Wayne. Plus, most of your coworkers have already seen me at my worst, I doubt they’ll be surprised. So, if you’re okay being publicly tied to me I think it will work.” Bruce pretended to busy himself with his pillow, as to not meticulously categorize every microexpression that crossed Clark’s face.

“Ever since you got me to laugh in front of Lois, she hasn’t stopped trying to push me off to you- thanks for that again, by the way. She constantly makes fun of me for, I quote, ‘falling for the wiles of a billionaire’ all because you got me to break.”

Bruce looked up at that, and was grateful that he did. If he got to see that genuine happiness on Clark’s face he would make a fool out of himself tenfold, especially at a gala.

“It's settled then. I’ll escape WE for a few hours, whisk you away for lunch. We can go to your apartment and order food, if that works for you?” Bruce raised his eyebrows in question.

“No need to whisk me away in any elaborate way, but otherwise that is perfect. That might also lead nicely to me working from home later in the week, which would mean I could just stay here, and eliminate some of our troubles.” Clark patted the space next to him, beckoning Bruce to settle next to him.

Bruce didn’t mention that he already had plenty of plans that edged into elaborate. That would be a perfect surprise- something to make it all seem less rehearsed. He lifted the sheets and settled in. “Sounds good to me. My alarms start at seven, if you’d like to have breakfast with me?” Bruce kept himself propped up on his elbow, so he could still look Clark in the eye.

Clark shuffled downward after lifting up his end of the sheets. “That sounds lovely, I can see you off to work as well,” He realised how fond he sounded and quickly added, “help the curse as much as we can.”

Clark’s words painted a painfully domestic image. Waking up together, stumbling down for breakfast with bleary eyes and tired voices, getting ready together, just for Clark to see him off before making his way to Metropolis for his day job.

It was so sweet it made Bruce’s teeth hurt. Or maybe that was the spell, he couldn’t fully tell anymore.

“Alright, we’ve done enough stalling, how are we doing this?” Bruce had to take the plunge, his already dwindling amount of sleep wouldn’t let him stall any further.

“Well B, I think I’m gonna have to spoon you.” Clark was very clearly trying to hold back a laugh, trying to get Bruce to crack a smile first.

Bruce let one slip onto his face, he couldn’t help it at the sight of Clark having entirely too much fun.

“Alright, big guy, show me what all the razzmatazz for cuddling is about.” He quickly flipped to his other side, back to Clark.

He heard Clark let out a snort behind him, “Did you just unironically use razzmatazz in a sentence? No wonder your kids all call you old man.”

Without letting Bruce respond Clark slid in close, draping his right arm over Bruce’s stomach. “I’m going to put my arm under your pillow, if that's alright?”

Bruce hummed in agreement, focusing on keeping his heartbeat steady until he got accustomed to the contact.

He slid himself backwards, letting his back finally rest against Clark’s chest, immediately warming up. Bruce felt Clark adjust his pillow, bringing it closer to the one he was laying on and leaving no space between them.

When Clark spoke up, he felt the need to whisper. “Let me know if it’s too much, yeah?”

Bruce squeezed his eyes shut, grateful he was faced away from Clark. He whispered back, “Just right, it seems. The magic has already settled.”

He could hear the smile in Clark’s voice when he whispered again, “Good. I’m glad.”

Bruce let silence cover them like a blanket. He was entirely at odds within himself. Part of him was dedicated to not showing any signs of the light panic that came from such close proximity to Clark. Another part of him, feeling the pull of magic, couldn’t help but feel settled and comforted, as if there was no other place for him.

He lightly bit at his tongue to keep himself from speaking. To keep from asking for more, for Clark to lean in and brush his lips to the pulse point of his neck.

To cross the line they had danced around for far too long.

Despite this, he fell asleep quickly. The soothing and grounding presence of someone capable behind him lulled him easily.

Bruce woke slowly.

An uncommon occurrence for him. He was used to his alarm startling him awake, sending him one step closer to the early grave awaiting him.

This morning, however, he found that it wasn’t his alarm’s incessant beeping that caused him to stir.

It was the hand gently, oh so gently, rubbing soothing circles over his exposed hip, tracing across his abdomen and back. Too soft to be a massage, too deliberate to be absentminded.

A glance at his wall clock showed that it was only a few minutes past seven, his alarm should have gone off. However, he couldn’t find it in himself to be disappointed with the way he was woken up.

“B, you awake?” Clark’s voice was rough with sleep.

Unfairly ghosting in Bruce’s ear.

He barely managed to suppress the shiver that threatened to run through him. He hummed his assent, despite not wanting to acknowledge the fact that being awake meant getting out of bed.

“Been up long?” Bruce felt Clark’s hold on him tighten ever so slightly as he spoke.

Clark couldn’t help the tightening of his grip at Bruce’s early morning voice. So similar to the voice that barked orders from under a cowl and yet wholly different. He couldn't help but let his mind slip to all the ways he wanted this version of Bruce to address him.

“Just long enough to lean over and shut off your alarm. I figured I could wake you.” Clark fought off a yawn long enough to finish speaking.

Bruce stretched, a calculated and deliberate attempt at getting more time in Clark’s arms.

Clark thought the small noise that Bruce made as he arched and stretched into him might do more damage than kryptonite. He was barely biting back the urge to press his face into the junction of Bruce’s neck and shoulder, having it stretched and put on display wasn’t helping.

“I suppose it's time to get out of bed?”

“Oh, right yeah of course.” Clark lifted his arm off Bruce, his hand leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

“I really didn’t want you to let go.” Bruce was going to pull his fingernails off one by one. Maybe that would teach him to not say every stupid thing that comes to his mind while under this spell.

Though he blushed crimson, Clark took it in stride. He decided to practically dive back onto Bruce, forcing a small grunt out of him on impact. “We’ll make a cuddle bug out of you yet! That, or I’ll find conspicuous amounts of kryptonite littered around my apartment once the spell has been removed.”

On a regular day Bruce might further threaten Clark as a joke. Today though, with the spell coursing through him, still high on the feeling of waking up in Clark’s arms, he only mustered a quiet “I wouldn’t mind it, as long as it was you.”

Once again, he was grateful to be faced away from Clark. That meant Clark could press his face into the back of Bruce’s neck before he spoke.

“Remind me to ask Diana where she put Sir Surreal, I owe him a fruit basket.” Clark’s tone was too sincere to be played off as another joke.

They stayed there, pressed together, for a long moment. It was Clark who made the first move to get up.

“I believe I was promised breakfast, and something tells me Alfred won’t bring it to you in bed.” Clark slowly pulled back, rolling off the bed and standing without jostling the bed too much.

“He saves that for when I’m wounded, I hope I can convince him the spell did a number on me when this is all over.” Bruce shot Clark a wry smile before making his own way out of bed.

With a stretch and twist Bruce cracked his back, letting out a delighted groan at his spine slotting into place.

Clark looked panicked. “Is it supposed to do that?! I’m checking you for broken bones! What the hell Bruce?!” Clark’s eyes lit up with his x-ray vision.

Bruce threw his head back with a tired laugh. “Did Lois never crack her back in the morning?”

“You would think I would know if my ex-wife broke her back every morning!” Clark was crawling over the bed to physically check Bruce for injuries, clearly not happy with the results his x-ray vision gave.

Bruce laughed again as Clark patted him down, smoothing a hand over his spine. “As someone who has broken their back, that feels way too good.” He let a smirk settle onto his face. “Though, I’m always up for a more recreational kind of back breaking.” His lascivious wink paired with his rumpled bedhead made for quite the picture.

At least to Clark it did.

“Okay, clearly you’re fine, Brucie, doesn’t mean I have to like the fact that it sounded like you were on the verge of breaking more bones than you own.” Clark failed at hiding his smile.

Bruce pushed Clark’s shoulder, not hard enough to do anything- especially to the Man of Steel- but Clark dramatically fell backwards on the bed anyways.

“Oh how you wound me! Superman, toppled by Bruce Wayne’s pretty laugh and deadly bedhead! Tell Batman he gets the Fortress of Solitude!” Clark gesticulated wildly before letting himself go lax.

Bruce raised an eyebrow at him and bit back a smile.

Clark let his tongue loll out of his mouth.

Bruce’s resolve broke and he laughed once more.

Clark hopped off the bed with a “Ha!” before pointing at Bruce. “I got you to laugh twice in one morning! Spell or not this has to be some kind of record!”

Bruce walked around his bed, patting Clark’s bare shoulder as he passed by. “I think you severely underestimate the chaos and hilarity of my family sleep deprived and sugar fuelled.” Bruce swiftly left his room, leaving the door open so Clark could see him make his way down the nearby staircase.

Clark would publicly refute staring at Bruce’s ass in his sweats as he walked away.

(He would be lying.)

At the bottom of the stairs Bruce whispered, knowing Clark would be listening. “Come on, boy scout, fly down here before I start eating without you.”

Let the record show Clark had planned to do that anyways. Just because he nearly hit a wall to do so after Bruce told him to- that didn’t mean anything.

Bruce was in the middle of pouring two cups of coffee by the time Clark made it to the kitchen.

“Alfred left breakfast out for us, I forgot he was meeting one of his old friends today. He’s off getting ready. So it’ll just be us, it seems.” Bruce didn’t look up from the mugs.

Bruce stirred (what he considered to be nearing unlawful amounts of) sugar into one while a load of milk into the other. Then quickly swapped, stirring a splash of milk into the first and a small spoon of sugar into the second.

Clark smiled at Bruce making his coffee just the way he liked it.

He stepped towards Bruce and spoke. “How’s the magic treating you?”

Bruce finally looked up at that, “I can feel it thrumming under my skin, annoying but not unbearable. If it wouldn’t put me on the wrong side of you, Diana, and Zatanna I would suggest testing its more long term effects.” he offered out the first mug of coffee.

“Yeah, not happening. Thanks for the coffee though!” Clark took a long sip before looking down at what he was drinking out of.

“Don’t say it. The kids must have commandeered all my mugs after hearing of our… predicament.” Bruce kept his mug on the counter hidden by his hip.

“I think it’s sweet. Who got it for you?” ‘It’ being a white ceramic mug with a poor recreation of his cowl with the words ‘Bat-Mom’ underneath it.

“I still don’t know. If I had to guess I would say Jason- the only thing that opposes that theory is the fact that he didn’t come for breakfast the morning I found it. So, he was either trying to throw me off his trail and sacrificed seeing my initial reaction- or it was Dick.” Bruce fully turned around to take a sip from his mug before setting it down behind him once again.

“The more you hide it, the more I desperately want to know what it says.” Clark smiled into his cup.

Bruce’s nostrils flared. He knew this was the work of Tim and Cass, they were the only two with the time and dedication to a bit that had to happen overnight.

“Let the record show that Tim and Cass are not only the most likely culprits behind the rest of the mugs being gone, but are also the most likely to be behind this mug.” He carefully brought the cup around to face Clark.

Clark couldn’t help his laugh. “No, no- that’s- oh remind me to send out a few more fruit baskets!” He wiped away a nonexistent tear from laughing.

Bruce didn’t see just what was so funny about a mug with the words “I Love My Boyfriend” around a heart with an image of Superman in it. Not to mention the fact that it had it on both sides, so there was no reprieve from the smiling face of the Man of Steel.

Bruce’s expression pinched as he tried to hide his secondhand joy.

“For that I’m not plating your waffle.” Bruce spun on his heel so his face didn’t give away the obvious petulance he was working with.

He heard Clark close the distance between them as he removed the cloche covering the plate of waffles Alfred prepared. It was only his well refined reflexes that prevented him from dropping it when Clark pressed his chest to Bruce’s back, hands bracketing him against the counter.

Clark’s voice drifted into Bruce’s ear, “Two birds, one scone- this way the magic settles, and you have to make my waffle.”

Bruce did not want to break whatever atmosphere had settled over them, he continued to plate the two waffles, piling on the fruit compote Alfred had set out.

Then, Clark’s words caught up to him. “Wait, did you say two birds, one scone?” Bruce turned his head to face Clark before deciding that proximity to that degree was dangerous with magic affecting his inhibitions when it came to Clark. He quickly turned his attention back to the waffles.

He felt Clark’s cheek lift with a smile. “Yeah, I never liked the expression kill two birds with one stone- felt unnecessarily violent. So I usually say feed two birds with one scone- at least as Clark Kent. Which now makes sense that you wouldn’t have heard me say it before.” He let out a small sheepish laugh.

“How do you manage to be hot and adorable at once?” Bruce was coming back around to the whole cutting off and selling his tongue idea.

Though, before either of them had time to really acknowledge what just left Bruce’s mouth, Tim made it to the kitchen.

“Oh gross! Give a guy some warning if you’re going to be participating in PDA before 10 AM! I haven’t even had coffee yet!” He faked a gag to really sell it.

Clark smiled and maneuvered Bruce so he was still behind him, but they were both facing Tim.

Bruce managed to speak first. “Counter offer, I stop mentioning seeing Conner with his tongue down your throat in a WE meeting room and you don’t mention this.”

Tim’s face went bright red. “Deal. Carry on.” He saluted before walking to the coffee pot.

Clark hid a laugh in Bruce’s neck.

He had been thrilled when Conner told him he was dating Tim. He had always hoped the boys would find people that really got them. Even if he didn’t raise Conner, at this point there was a lot of love for him.

He loved Lois. He had been very in love with her- enough that they got married and had Jon. But he could see them slowly but surely falling out of love with each other.

Neither of them wanted to give up the things that made them who they were fundamentally. Lois wanted to travel and report the things other journalists were too afraid to touch, let alone dismantle. She couldn’t easily do that with Clark as her shadow.

Clark didn’t want to give up being Superman. He didn’t want to give up the Justice League, or being able to save people. But, the cancelled dates and missed anniversaries? No matter how understanding someone was, it wore on them. It would have been one thing if both of them were constantly torn away and they had to fight the battle of rescheduling things.

It was an entire other when Lois just had to wait for him.

So when Conner came to him and wanted advice about asking someone out, Clark had to ask. Hearing him say it was one of his teammates, Clark let out a sigh of relief. Dating a civilian wasn’t easy.

Dating someone who got the same distress calls that you did? That came with a different set of worries, but not the kind that dismantles romance from the inside.

(Dating other heroes came with things like emergency contacts and DNR orders. Those were struggles of their own, but they were the kind of struggles that came up because you care too much.) There’s never doubt of your commitment.

Dating civilians, however, led to wondering what your partner thought your priorities were. It was a constant debate of who are they more committed to, me or to everyone else.

Clark had to hand it to Lois. She put up with far worse than anyone could even guess. She cut him a lot of slack, more than he deserved, even on a good day.

Finding out that Kon’s secret crush was Tim? Clark could’ve wept. The Bats, even more so than some other heroes, knew the difference a moment could make. Bruce had once told him that, as a team without superspeed, they had seen plenty that would’ve been solved if they had been just a moment quicker.

It gave Clark hope that Kon would never have to argue over why he dropped everything to run off and save someone or something.

Tim could be the break from the madness that people like them needed.

He could quiet the voices that threatened to split their heads open, if they weren’t careful.

Kon was one of the first people who knew the heartbeats Clark had memorized. At least, all of them.

It was common knowledge he could pick out Lois, Conner, and Jon in a crowd without even trying. But Clark told Kon that he could also always find Batman.

Whether it was a battlefield or gala, Bruce’s steady rhythm never failed to keep him focused.

A blushing Kon admitted that Tim did that for him.

That all said? It didn’t mean he wanted to see the two of them splayed out on a conference table, in a way only two people who knew without a doubt there wasn’t a camera around, could be.

Clark zeroed back in on where he was when Bruce tugged him forward, leading him to the table so they could finally eat.

Tim poured himself coffee, notably in a novelty tankard Damian brought home from the Metropolis Zoo, before making his swift exit. “No cooties on the dinner table!” He called as he disappeared around the corner.

Bruce let out a small huff, full of love for his kid. “He is the only twenty-two year old who I know still says things like cooties- although Dick was like that too.”

Clark raised an eyebrow at him as he settled in one of the chairs.

“Fine, Dick is still like that. Either way, they simultaneously make me feel thirty and eighty.”

Clark flashed him a satisfied smile before turning to his food. He ate with his left hand while keeping his right hand pressed to the small of Bruce’s back.

Bruce would never admit that the action made his heart flutter in his chest. Though, Clark definitely heard it.

He knew better than to mention it, though.

They ate in relative silence, only the clinking of their forks and quiet requests for the syrup.

By the time they were done, and Clark had gotten Bruce to clean up after them, it was a bit after eight. It gave them plenty of time to get ready and make it to work on time.

They got ready side by side in front of Bruce’s double vanity, Clark making sure to let his touch linger on Bruce as much as he could- for the sake of the magic of course.

When it was time for them to change Clark found that his suits, the few he brought, had been steamed. Just like Bruce had said.

When Alfred had time to do that, he would never know.

(Alfred saved time to clean the kitchen, when he walked in to hear Clark splashing Bruce with dish water, he figured he now had plenty of time to do a little favor for Clark.)

“Oh man, I can’t ruin his perfect lines of the suits by flying in them!” Clark messed with the cuff of his dress shirt, still on the hanger, as he spoke.

“Take my car.”

Clark whipped his head to face Bruce who had, thankfully, just finished buttoning his slacks. “What?”

Bruce looked at Clark before repeating himself. “Take my car. It has the same cloaking as the Batmobile but won’t look too out of place in the Planet’s parking garage. I can have my driver bring me to Metropolis over lunch and then drive it back.” It was true, he could speed all the way to Metropolis without a second glance.

Clark watched Bruce’s face, there wasn’t a flicker of doubt.

He felt himself steadfastly attempting to tamp down his giddiness. He had never known Bruce to let anyone drive his car, other than Alfred. His kids, the ones with licenses, were granted very limited access to the Batmobile, as well as an option to have their own car, if they so pleased.

The sleek, dare he say sexy, car was one of Bruce’s prized possessions. If Clark hadn’t seen just how much he dotes on his kids, he might suggest the car was like one of them.

He saw the amount of work Bruce himself poured into the car. Clark was sure he could take it apart and put it back together in his sleep. He had all but built that car from the ground up.

“Bruce, I can’t take that car.” Clark’s eyes were wide, just short of panicked.

Bruce raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “And why not?” He crossed his arms, causing his dress shirt to stretch nicely across his chest. Clark couldn’t help but think that was just unfair.

Clark was at a loss. How would he explain that it felt like too much, too big of a gesture that really couldn’t be reciprocated? There were no words he could string together that would convey that he knew how much that damn car meant to Bruce, and that was the exact reason he couldn’t fathom taking it to speed to work- it would cut his trip time nearly in half, and yet would make sure his suit stayed nice.

Bruce let out a sigh and continued getting ready, reaching for his daily cologne. “Listen, it's a car. Those are meant to be driven. My mother would throttle me if she had caught wind of me not even letting you drive it.” He turned away, flicking through his hung up ties.

Clark swallowed back the instinctive ‘why would I be any different than anyone else driving?’ He knew Bruce. He knew this was a concession. An admission.

Of trust, absolutely. Clark hoped it was of something more, something not spell induced if he got his way.

“I feel like I need this in writing.” Clark joked, hoping to ease the tension only he was feeling.

“If it’ll help you sleep at night- or well, speed to Metropolis.” Bruce joked back, trying to assuage the unease Clark was radiating.

“Are you sure? I just- don't feel like you have to do this.”

“I don’t do anything I don’t want to. You should know that.” Bruce barely glanced over at Clark as he spoke, as if his words weren’t capable of tilting the world on its axis.

Clark shook his head to clear it. Bruce was right, he couldn’t be forced into anything out of obligation. If he didn’t want to do something he wouldn’t. Clark still felt off kilter.

Bruce finally picked a tie, Clark liked the grey silk he caught a glimpse of, it seemed to also have red and black designs throughout. He could feel himself trying to find a distraction, something else to focus on.

“Anyways, now that you have to drive, you should get ready and go, you’ll need about thirty minutes to get to Metropolis if you drive like I do.” Bruce lifted the corner of his mouth into something of a smile.

Clark winced after spotting the clock outside the closet. “I didn’t realise it was already almost half past. Don’t you have to head out soon too?” Clark quickly started to pull on his suit, the best one he thought to bring with him.

Bruce, still faced away from Clark, silently pointed to a small velvet box sitting near his cologne. “I have some cufflinks, if you want to borrow any of them. I’m not sure if your speed packing included all the little things.”

It hadn’t. “That would be great, actually. Jimmy always manages to notice if anything is out of place on me- then it becomes a whole thing in the bullpen.” He laughed as he gently opened the box and glanced over them.

“I suggest these,” Bruce pointed to a set of black and silver cufflinks designed to look like a compass. “They match the suit you picked out.”

Bruce reached a bit further and grabbed a set, Clark only caught the red stone in the middle and the round silver surrounding it.

“Thanks! I’m not great at all this stuff, used to drive my ma crazy!” He huffed out a laugh as he finished securing the cufflinks in place. All he had to do was pull his tie on and take his jacket with him.

Bruce smiled softly and shook his head. “One day I’ll get you to actually hang up your ties, not just leave them tied and slip them over your head.” Bruce took a step forward and started adjusting Clark’s collar.

It painted a very domestic scene indeed.

“There, now the tie matches the pressed suit. Oh, stop in the kitchen on your way out- Alfred usually leaves a to-go cup of coffee for Tim and I, I’m sure he made an extra for you.”

Clark was doing his best to not gape like a fish. He already knew he would have a very difficult time not having this when the spell was up.

Waking up to Bruce’s soft breathing. Sharing breakfast. Helping each other get ready. He got used to it all very very quickly.

“I’ll have to make sure to really thank him for everything, next time I see him.”

“He knows you make me happy, he’ll tell you that's thanks enough.”

Clark watched Bruce turn and exit the closet, unable to do anything but stand there and gawk at Bruce’s retreating form.

Bruce had already made his way part way down the stairs by the time Clark caught up. He hoped his swift exit wasn’t too obvious. He hadn’t meant to say that much or get that close.

“Keys are hanging by the door, get to work safe.” Bruce handed Clark the black travel mug, after seeing the darker colored coffee inside. What he didn’t see was the glossy black bat-symbol embossed on the side facing Clark.

Clark couldn’t help his smile.

He also couldn’t help the smirk crossing his face when he saw his own family crest on the navy blue mug left for Bruce.

He figured he could send a picture to him later, keep it as a private joke for himself for now.

“Are you sure about the car? I can suck it up and apologize to Alfred for ruining the suit if I have to.”

Bruce rolled his eyes before grabbing the keys. He took Clark’s free hand and clasped it between his. With the key now on Clark’s palm he spoke. “I’ll drive you to Metropolis myself if you don't take it. Imagine your day with Bruce Wayne loitering around your desk like a kicked puppy in a building he owns.”

Clark’s answering smile told Bruce all he needed to know. “Alright, now go! I’m not above kicking you out of my house.”

Clark raised his full hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay! I’m gone! Right on time, too!”

Bruce watched as Clark made his way to the car. Smiling as he gently draped his suit jacket over the passenger seat and delicately placed his coffee mug in the cup holder, only after making extra sure it wouldn’t spill even a drop.

Bruce could feel the magic begin to tug as his car disappeared around a corner. It was subtle, like he wasn’t supposed to notice it.

He would have to keep track of how it changed with the longer he spent away from Clark, he would make an experiment out of this yet.

He just… wouldn’t tell Clark. Or Diana. Or Zatanna. He supposed he could keep his findings to himself.

Although, Damian might be interested- either way. He would have to give himself time to catalogue his reactions.

Stage one, his skin felt tight- like he might be dehydrated. He might be convinced he had accidentally skipped moisturizing if he didn’t know about the magic.

He looked down at his tie and cup, it seemed Alfred knew he was heading to Metropolis for the day. Bruce was glad Clark seemed too distracted to pin down what his tie actually looked like.

He originally bought it for an interview. He was going to be sitting with Lex Luthor and Oliver Queen all getting interviewed by one person, the same questions but three different answers.

He knew as soon as Luthor spotted the small Crest of El pattern, between the red and black stripes, he would be on the verge of losing it. That just made for good entertainment.

He also got a kick out of seeing Ollie try not to burst a blood vessel as he laid his Brucie act on thick at any mention of their superpowered friend.

Now, though, it had become a pretty regular feature in his wardrobe. And what was a trip to Metropolis without a bit of pride for the Man of Steel?

The coffee cup might have been overkill, but at least Kal had escaped with a plain one.

Bruce quickly got himself to work, already planning on what calls to make to ensure Bruce Wayne’s public pursual of Clark Kent lived up to his standards.

He let his driver know about his plans to head to Metropolis for lunch and, with a suggestive wink, assured him he wouldn’t need a ride back to the city.

Clark was making his way to Metropolis.

As carefully as he could while ensuring the drive was only half an hour. He knew it was possible, he was the one who questioned how the hell Bruce could shave over an hour off of the drive.

He didn’t even think about taking a sip from his coffee until he was out of the car and securely in the garage nearest to the Daily Planet.

He couldn’t help but smile at the Batman mug he had been given.

When he walked in, two minutes past nine, he noticed Jimmy and Lois looking out the window at the street.

“Clark! There you are. Did you see who was driving that sleek black car? The one that looked like a new version of a classic car?” Jimmy immediately descended on him.

With one look from the two of his friends Clark could feel his face reddening. “Oh, uh- not really. Real tinted windows.” He pushed his glasses up with his pinky, using the hand still holding Bruce’s mug.

He watched both Jimmy and Lois narrow their eyes. With a glance at each other they began slowly circling Clark.

“Very pristine suit. Probably freshly pressed, only creases in the pants from sitting- likely in a car.” Lois began listing off.

“Different mug, not any of his usuals, or one I recognize.” Jimmy took a deep breath in, leaning almost uncomfortably close to Clark, “Not his usual cologne either.”

Clark made to sit at his desk, setting down his coffee away from his keyboard. “This is strange. You are two weird individuals.” He didn’t mention that they were right.

“My guess is he wasn’t at home last night and, whoever he was with, either has staff that works for them or is very particular about how someone looks so Clark pressed his own suit.” Lois sat on the edge of her desk, eyes locked with Jimmy.

“I’m guessing someone with staff, and someone Clark knows well enough to drive their car- I think our mystery driver was him this morning.” Jimmy concluded.

“Y’all ought to start a true crime show at this rate, with all the deductions you’re jumping to.”

“Midwestern speech tick! We’re right!” Jimmy leaned over to high-five Lois.

Clark shook his head and sipped some of his coffee, still shockingly hot for having been sitting at least thirty minutes. Leave it to Bruce to have something of a high-tech travel cup.

Jimmy helped himself to a sip from the mug before acting as if he was tasting wine and retronasally breathing, trying to discern any additional flavors.

“Not the usual stuff we drink, tastes better- maybe a freshly ground Cuban blend?”

“There is no way you can taste the kind of coffee it is!” Clark exclaimed, uncaring about sharing a cup.

“No, it was total bullshit, but if I had been wrong you would’ve just said that- so now we just know we're right! Care to tell us where you spent the night?” Jimmy wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, pulling a laugh out of Clark and Lois.

“I have no idea what you’re on about, now I have an article to edit if you don’t mind.” Clark started reaching for a pen out of the Gotham Knights cup on his desk- a gift from Batman after they talked about the crazy rivalry between their cities’ baseball teams.

That was before they even knew each other’s identities. It made Clark smile.

Before his hand could wrap around one of his pens, though, Lois grabbed his wrist and yanked it towards herself.

“What the hell are these?! These have to cost more than the suit you’re wearing!” She twisted Clark’s arm to give Jimmy a better view of the cufflinks on his shirt.

He snapped a picture of it and, after a few taps on his phone exclaimed in excitement. “Aha! Found them! Clark, these are five hundred dollar cufflinks- who the hell were you with yesterday?”

Clark felt some color drain from his face. Oh he was gonna kill Bruce for letting him walk out wearing $500 cufflinks! Between that and the car? The damn spell was going to do Clark in if it kept Bruce acting like this!

“They’re a temporary loan! I didn’t know they were expensive!” He really was going to- well, nothing really. He knew he wouldn’t yell or get angry with Bruce. All he would really do was tease him mercilessly about how flippantly he let Clark borrow his expensive things.

“God, I’m so nosey I desperately want to know who this mystery person is. You really won’t tell us?” Jimmy pleaded.

“Not a chance, Olsen.” Clark didn’t look up from his computer.

“At least promise to invite us to the wedding, I need a good excuse to eat fancy food and mingle.” Lois said, after settling into her chair.

Jimmy sat in his chair as well, “Things not going well with Mr. ‘Valentine’s Day is a Scam’? I. Am. Shocked.”

“To be fair, Valentine’s Day is a scam, but the whole point is you do something cheesy anyway, because scam or not it gives you an excuse to dote on your partner.” Clark called over his shoulder, still trying to focus on his work.

“Remind me again why we got divorced?” Lois joked.

“He missed your anniversary, birthday, and dinner with your parents all in the same month!” Jimmy’s smile was infectious as he counted off on his fingers.

“Yeah, that and the whole dessert fiasco of our two year- I swear Jon was covered in chocolate for days.” Clark and Lois had joked that was the thing that ended their marriage.

Clark had tried to pull a big gesture, a show that he wanted to put in the work it would take. It just so happened that Jon also manifested his first power just as Clark had finished putting together the wall of desserts for Lois.

She came home to their three and a half year old covered from head to toe in various desserts and their kitchen looking like a scene out of a baking based horror film.

After it was all said and done, the fact that her first reaction was irritation at Clark for even trying something that dumb- rather than amusement and a little concern was very telling.

Three months later, when their dating anniversary came up, they had already long stopped waiting up for each other. By the end of August they were ready to file for divorce.

Clark counted himself lucky. Their coparenting arrangement meant they didn’t have much time for awkward, which also meant they very quickly got back to the place they were before they started dating.

Which meant now, about ten years later, give or take, they openly and freely joked about it.

“Riiight, okay, I guess that makes me feel better. But to answer you, Jimmy. No, I broke it off with him, he was always a bit weird whenever I talked about Jon, and if he can’t handle me being a mother I’d rather avoid him.” She turned her focus to her newest article, printed out for her handwritten corrections.

Clark smiled at the thought of Jon. It was his week without him, which ended up working well with everything going on with Bruce, but he still missed the kid. The best part, though, was he knew that even if it was his week with Jon, Bruce would have loved to have him stay in the manor.

Even outside of how well he got along with Damian, Clark knew Bruce loved him like one of his own. It was impossible not to, Bruce once admitted.

He didn’t say that it was because he walked around with Clark’s bright smile but Lois’ biting wit- plus, with Damian’s influence, he could see the kid fitting in right alongside his sons. He had a lot of energy, something Cass wasn’t usually equipped to handle, but she loved having him around all the same.

Jimmy and Lois shared another look as Clark dreamily smiled off into the distance.

Jimmy stage whispered, “I think it’s safe to say his mystery person likes kids, then.”

Clark nearly laughed. That was the understatement of the century. “Y’all aren’t getting anything else outta me, try as you might.”

Their twin smirks told Clark he gave a bit of himself away when he spoke, confirming the whole ‘likes kids’ thing with the amount of midwestern that jumped out of him.

The three of them figured it was about time they actually started working, so they quickly found themselves trying to focus on their assignments.

A couple hours, and a few coffee breaks, later Jimmy asked if they wanted to order lunch from somewhere.

“Oh, I’ve been craving that Thai place downtown, you guys up for that?” Lois spun her chair to face the middle of the room.

When Jimmy turned to look at Clark he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I kind of have lunch plans? Sorry guys.”

Contrary to what Clark expected, both of them lit up. “Mystery person! Alright Lo, we’ll have to get it delivered and eat here so we don’t miss whoever it is having lunch with Clark!” Jimmy exclaimed.

Clark could text Bruce and have him just meet at his apartment. No need for either of them to catch sight of him after his morning.

Just as Clark was about to pull out his phone to text Bruce, a delivery man walked through the door.

He was obstructed by the sheer amount of sunflowers and daffodils he was carrying.

His quiet voice carried throughout the room, “I have a delivery for Clark Kent?”

Clark shot up immediately, standing to help the man to his desk, purposely taking the brunt of the weight of the vase. He quickly got them to his desk, where Jimmy and Lois were already standing and waiting for his explanation.

“I just need to sign here, if you don’t mind?” The delivery person held out a handheld scanner and small pen to Clark. “There is a note in the middle of the flowers, as well.”

Clark distractedly signed, scanning the bouquet for the card. He assumed they were sent by Bruce, but it didn’t hurt to make sure. “Thank you, have a good day.”

The trio all peered down at the bouquet, Jimmy and Lois standing so close, they were nearly blocking Clark’s view of the entrance.

“Come on, Kansas! I’m at the edge of my seat here!” Jimmy prodded.

Clark finally grabbed the card out of the middle. He thought about feigning a tremble in his hand but figured that might be overkill, even for him.

He read the card and his smile turned confused for a moment, before he looked past Jimmy and Lois and lit up red.

He dropped the card on his desk and was about to stand when Lois reached past the flowers to grab it.

“It just says ‘Look up!’ what the hell does that mean?” Lois explained to Jimmy.

It only took a second, but by the time they realised the implications a voice was cutting through the air.

“I hope it wasn’t too much, I just couldn’t help myself.” Bruce didn’t even try to look sheepish.

Clark stood to meet him. He breathed out a reverent “Bruce.” between smiles.

“Hope of new beginnings, at least in floriography. It helps that your favorite flowers happened to mean hope.” That caused Bruce to rub the back of his neck for a quick moment, a bit unused to showing his cards quite so obviously.

“You know the language of flowers?” Clark asked, wonder coloring his tone.

“Just another perk of being raised by Alfred. He loves any form of communication. Why, are you familiar?” Bruce stepped closer, content to ignore everyone else around them.

Clark flushed red, “I had a lot of time on my hands as a teenager, it led me down some weird rabbit holes.”

Bruce smiled warmly. “So I’ve heard. Morse code, model trains, and now the language of flowers. You have to be the most interesting man on the planet, Mr. Kent. Both Daily and Terrestrial.” His eyes sparkled with a bit of mischief.

Jimmy loudly cleared his throat, breaking the spell around them. “Ahem, care to formally introduce us?” He raised an expectant eyebrow.

Clark bit back a laugh before turning back to Lois and Jimmy. “You both have already met him, and we have plans to get to so…” Clark made to gently push Bruce and guide him out the door, but Bruce seemed to have other ideas.

In a quick move, one more becoming of the bat suit, rather than the Brioni one he was wearing, Bruce side stepped his hands and made his way to Clark’s desk.

“Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen, if memory serves. Nice to see you again!” He offered his hand out to both of them to shake, starting with Lois.

“You must be the mystery cufflink and car owner, I take it?” Lois asked.

Bruce’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment before smoothing out again. “Ah yes, keen eye you have, I doubted anyone would notice.” Bruce winked, giving Lois the distinct impression that he wanted people to notice.

When he turned his attention to Jimmy he silently wondered what he would make of this.

“The fancy coffee now makes much more sense.” Jimmy smiled.

“Clark insists I shouldn’t waste the good stuff on him,” Bruce dropped his voice to a stage whisper, “But I do anyways.” His grin was infectious.

“Alright, enough with you guys, Bruce and I have lunch plans to get to!” Clark made to grab Bruce’s shoulder before last minute deciding his hand would be better, you know, for the sake of skin contact and all.

Bruce smiled and spun in Clark’s grip before looking over his shoulder at Jimmy and Lois. “Seems like someone’s in a rush to get me out of here! I’ll see you both later.”

Lois whistled after them, getting Bruce to laugh and Clark to light up red once more.

Once they were safely out of the building and walking towards Clark’s apartment Bruce tugged on his hand, getting him to stop for a moment. “I do hope that wasn’t too much?”

Clark had never seen Bruce second guess himself, it was sweet that it was because of him.

“Over the top? Yes. Too much? Never. Plus, that’ll give the office enough gossip for weeks, Cat’ll hate it and Jimmy will get a kick out of that. Plus, I really did love the flowers.” Clark’s sunny smile threatened to knock Bruce off his feet.

Bruce couldn’t help the slight redness crawling up his face. “Good. That's, uh… good yes.” He could toss himself right into the wall, that might knock some of his words loose.

“Alright, come on. I’m hungry and you need some skin time.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, grateful to be back in familiar teasing territory. “As if I’m the tactile, overgrown, teddy bear.”

They made it to Clark’s apartment in record time, he supposed that was the perk of having two highly trained people working together against foot traffic.

Or maybe the fact that they're both six foot plus and built like double-wide fridges, either one.

Either way, they made it to Clark’s in one piece.

“Okay, I’m thinking that Chinese place down the block? They have the best fried rice this side of the bridge and their egg rolls- oh I could weep.” Clark finished getting his lock open and letting them both inside.

Once in, Clark paused. His dinner table was already covered with their usual order from the takeout place he was craving.

“How could you have possibly known I was craving this place?” Clark asked, turning to Bruce.

Bruce smiled, just shy of smug before responding. “You once told me that something in my fancy coffee makes you want Chinese food. It was an educated guess.”

Clark didn’t even remember telling him that. He could utterly swoon. “Alright, you and your crazy memory aside, how much time do we have? Because I say we settle in for the best two Gray Ghost episodes and gorge on Chinese food until we have to leave.”

“I can be in Metropolis for the rest of the day, if that’s the case.” The twitch at the corner of Bruce’s mouth told Clark he was being genuine.

Clark began taking off his layers, motioning for Bruce to do the same. “How’s the magic been?”

Bruce followed suit. “Not too bad, but getting slightly worse as the day goes on. Zatanna was right, though, after last night the four hour mark has just made me a little itchy all over, not in any pain.” They both hung their jackets and dress shirts to avoid getting them wrinkled.

Clark brought their food to his coffee table, making sure it would be in reach even when they were pressed together. “Good! What are your findings? And don’t pretend you haven’t been treating yourself like an experiment.”

Bruce huffed out something between and scoff and a laugh. “Fine. It started with my skin feeling tight as soon as you were out of sight. I noticed the next change about an hour later, it felt like I could feel my hair and nails growing. A bit after that came the itchiness, which has slowly gotten worse since it started. And then right before you grabbed my hand, they were starting to cramp up a bit, like they were cold.”

Clark unceremoniously pulled Bruce to the couch. “Do you think those are the same symptoms you’d have if we hadn’t spent so much time together, and they were just rolling out slower? Or are we thinking that physical contact helps abate how bad the symptoms are?”

“I’m leaning towards the former based on what Zatanna was saying. It seems that the magic is not in motion while we are touching, then when we stop it slowly starts and picks up speed the longer we’re apart.” Bruce allowed himself to be maneuvered on Clark’s couch, his back once again pressed to Clark’s chest.

Clark paused, seeming defeated. “I don’t think I’ll be able to eat like this.” His voice sounded sad.

Bruce swallowed down a laugh. “We can just eat side by side, you know.” His eyes were full of mischief.

Clark stomped down the urge to pout. He was already getting greedy with how much of Bruce he was allowed. “You’re right, that worked at breakfast, didn’t it?”

Bruce nodded and made his way out of Clark’s arms, doing his best to not show his reluctance. “Gray Ghost?”

Clark shook the forlorn look of his face and nodded. “Start from the beginning again?” This would be yet another tick in their long list of rewatches of this show.

Bruce had been affronted that Clark had never managed to finish the series, he was just short of cutting off the job they were working and making them watch it when he found out.

Thankfully, he held it together long enough to finish their case. Long enough to find a full set of the episodes for Clark to keep.

“Either from the beginning or start with Missing Link.” Bruce leaned forward and started grabbing the boxes of food laid out for them, chicken and beef fried rice for both of them, they would just swap containers back and forth until they had their fill.

Clark laughed softly and shook his head. “You and that episode.” Yet, he flicked to episode ten anyways.

They ate in peace, only really using the show as background noise as they ate and talked. It had only been a few hours, but they had both already begun to miss the other’s presence.

Bruce was hiding a laugh in the box of sweet donuts he had ordered them when Clark’s phone beeped.

Clark quickly glanced at it before sighing. “And that's our cue, my alarm just went off. My lunch is up in ten. You’re free to stay here if you’d like?” He made quick work of getting redressed, passing Bruce his shirt as well.

“No, I’ll head over with you. If I take too long to get back Tim will try to tease me about it- he’s been cooped up in his office all day and I don’t want to be on the receiving end of his irritation honed sass.” Bruce’s big smile told Clark that he’d be on the receiving end of it anyway.

“I hear ya, I’m bracing myself for whatever Jimmy and Lois have in store.” Clark was adjusting his cufflinks as he spoke. “Oh yeah! I totally forgot. What the hell were you thinking letting me leave your house with $500 in cufflinks?!”

Bruce smirked. “I was thinking they would match.” He held up his own sleeve, showing the silver ship's wheel decorating his own sleeve, a perfect counterpart to the compass Clark had.

That caused Clark to flush. “Is this the full ‘romanced by Bruce Wayne’ experience, then?”

“Not even a little. Anyone Brucie Wayne has to romance doesn’t get near my room, let alone my bathroom. And they sure as hell don’t get access to my cufflinks. No, this is just for you.”

Clark felt the back of his neck get hot. He cleared his throat and tried to speak. “Ahem, well we- the walk- traffic…”

Bruce took some pity on him, satisfaction stirring at the sight of him so flustered. “The walk back to your job? Yeah, there’s going to be a bit of afternoon foot traffic, so we should head back- you’re right.” Bruce let a confident smirk cross his face, a tease in and of itself.

Clark’s face was still bright red, but he at least regained his wits. “Yes. All of that, we should go.” He gestured towards the door, letting Bruce go first.

He would once again deny staring at Bruce’s ass in his fitted dress slacks. He would once again be lying.

But Bruce, for his part, had worn his most heeled dress shoes and best fitted slacks, for that exact reason. The magic might have lowered his inhibitions, but it was all him in practice.

Their walk was brisk. Clark didn’t like being late for non-Superman things, he figured he went missing often enough already. As they made their way inside Clark let out a loud, startled, laugh. Bruce had verbally eviscerated Sir Surreal without a single change in expression or tone, it hit all the highest points of Clark’s sense of humor.

The picture of the two of them coming in laughing, looking more comfortable together than one hour can account for, made Jimmy and Lois relax.

Their lunch had consisted of Thai takeout and worrying about what Clark was getting into with Bruce Wayne of all people. Lois had teased Clark about how he got along with the man at galas, acting as if he was the funniest man in the world. How that translated to flowers and lunch dates, she wasn’t privy to.

And then they heard it. They heard Clark let out his loudest snort, followed by reinvigorated laughter. So far gone that he was clutching Bruce’s hand and trying to lean on him for support.

Then, there was Bruce Wayne, smiling as if that was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard.

Looking at Clark like he hung the stars in the sky.

Suddenly, they weren’t so worried about their friend anymore. No, now they were happy to see him filled with so much joy.

“You did not! No wonder he won’t look you in the eyes at meetings!” Clark was leaning so far against Bruce he actually had a moment of concern they were going to topple.

“I did! He deserved it too. After knowing Oliver for so long he still underestimates me Especially if I’m not all suited up.” Bruce had been telling the story of how he turned on his full Brucie act towards Green Arrow the last time they were on the field together, getting him to finally stop and listen to what he was saying.

He found that switching from one persona to the other in front of Oliver made him deeply uncomfortable in a way he couldn’t describe. Dinah said it was something akin to the Uncanny Valley Effect.

Clark was stuck imagining Green Arrow faltering because Batman pitched up his voice and flirted with him on the field.

The pair, still trying to calm their laughter, made it to Clark’s desk.

He gently grabbed one of the sunflowers out of the vase. He cut the stem in half with a pair of scissors from his desk. “This was still excessive and over the top- but they are beautiful.” He slid the flower into Bruce’s blazer pocket, in place of a handkerchief.

Bruce felt his ears heat involuntarily. He was certain Clark could hear the beat of his heart picking up too.

Clark didn’t mention it.

“Oh god, Lois I’m going to lose my lunch having to watch all of this.” Jimmy joked from across his desk.

Clark was snapped out of his spell and he turned to level a half-hearted glare at him. “Let me give my Bruce a flower in peace, Olsen.” He joked.

Bruce smirked. “Your Bruce, huh? I think I like the sound of that.” His voice was practically Batman’s with how low he was speaking.

Clark would never admit to the chill it threatened to send down to his toes.

“Well- I mean, if you-” He blew a breath out of his mouth with force. “The other options all felt too presumptuous or not enough.” He finally said, looking towards a spot behind Bruce.

“I wouldn’t take offence to you being a little presumptuous.” Bruce paired his words with a wink.

Clark was having an increasingly hard time discerning how much of this was for the sake of his coworkers looking in.

Bruce was fighting the urge to assuage his fears. He wanted to tell him, in no uncertain terms, that if he had his way they would be together in every way Clark would allow.

But that was all a bit much to do in the middle of Clark’s day job while whammied with a love spell. So, instead, he grabbed Clark’s hand and gave it three quick squeezes, a grounding technique he used with his gaggle of kids, and Clark on occasion.

“I think the yellow suits me, don’t you?” He tilted his head at Clark before glancing over to Lois and Jimmy for a moment.

Clark, grateful for the out, let a soft smile cross his face. “I do.” To try and tamp down his blush he moved to smooth down Bruce’s lapels.

It was then, for the first time, he actually looked at Bruce’s tie. “Are you wearing a Superman tie?!”

Bruce stifled a small laugh. “Thanks for noticing, I’ve been wearing it since this morning.”

The implications there were not lost on Lois and Jimmy, still contentedly listening to the two interact.

Clark was wondering how he could have possibly missed that, but hey strange things happened when Bruce was involved. He tried to keep his voice level as he asked, “Any reason why?” He marginally succeeded.

Bruce smirked, he had hoped for this opportunity while it was just the two of them, but Jimmy and Lois being there almost added enough to make up for it. “Because he’s my favorite superhero, of course. Don’t be jealous, darling. Just a little… fantasy is all.”

Clark nearly choked on his own tongue. Something so simple sounded downright salacious when accompanied by that smirk. His voice was a pitch too high when he was finally able to speak. “Oh, yeah. Okay, of course. I mean- well everyone likes Superman.”

Jimmy and Lois nodded at him in a way that said ‘Smooth one, Clark.’

Bruce laughed. He and Clark were the only ones who knew the full extent of what was going on. While Jimmy and Lois might know about Clark’s night job, they didn’t know about Bruce’s. They thought it was a funny coincidence, not the pointed provocation it was.

Clark still had Bruce by the lapels, slowly wrinkling under his grip. Bruce put his hands on Clark’s hips and slowly walked him to his desk chair, holding him steady when the backs of his knees hit it.

Clark released Bruce’s lapels on the way down, making him lean down about half way. He braced himself on the arms of Clark’s chair, slightly looming over him.

“I think it’s about time I get going, no? All I need from you are my keys.”

Clark could feel Bruce’s breath ghosting over his lips. “Oh, um. In the drawer. The top one.” His hand brushed Bruce’s hip as he pointed to his desk.

Abruptly Bruce pulled back, wide smile on his face. “Thanks, sweetness. I knew you’d take good care of her.” Without looking, he reached into the drawer behind him and pulled out the keys, giving Jimmy and Lois a nice view of the house key clearly attached.

“Thank you again for letting me take your car. Even if it was the most anxiety ridden drive of my life.” Clark laughed, a bit too gentle for it to be a joke.

“There’s a reason I told you to get to work safe and not to drive safe. The car could be totaled, but as long as you were okay I wouldn’t care.” Without waiting for a response Bruce leaned down and pressed his cheek to Clark’s, leaving a quick kiss there in his wake.

On his way out he whispered a quick, “I’ll see you in Gotham.” For just Clark to hear.

Clark swore he was going to be red for the rest of time. In a move Lois would call pitiful, he pressed his face into his hands and giggled.

“What a view. Seeing all six foot three of you giggling like a teenager.” Jimmy broke the short silence.

“Superman tie; I thought he was going to kiss me; and he was more concerned about me than his unlawfully expensive, custom made, previously-owned-by-his-mother car.” Clark lifted three of his fingers one by one, still not looking at either Jimmy or Lois.

Lois let out an impressed whistle. “You’ve found yourself quite the man, Smallville.” She huffed out a laugh before turning back to the tail-end of her lunch, ready to be thrown out.

Clark let out a quiet groan before sitting up straight and shaking his head, trying to make himself focus for his last four hours of work.

(He was not thinking about what was in store for him back in Gotham.)

(Much.)

When, a couple of minutes later, he heard the quiet purr of Bruce’s car pulling out of the garage he had to go to the bathroom and try to collect himself enough to focus on his latest article.

As soon as Bruce made it to the other side of the door of the Daily Planet he let his back hit the wall. Between the magic beginning to affect him once again and all the things he did in front of Clark’s coworkers he needed a minute.

He knew that Clark would notice if he lingered in one place for too long so he decided this particular existential crisis could wait until he was in the safety of his car.

As soon as he sat down he let his forehead hit the steering wheel. He felt giddy. That was not a thing he was used to.

If he wasn’t careful, this spell was going to methodically take down every single wall Bruce had put up around his feelings for Clark.

If he didn’t continuously focus on the myriad of reasons he always told himself he couldn’t have Clark, he would do something stupid.

(In this case, confess everything to Clark.)

(He had been told plenty of times before that he was being ridiculous. It wouldn’t be stupid to confess his feelings.)

He gave himself exactly three minutes and fifteen seconds, long enough that he could realistically be resetting his position in the car (as if Clark would mess with any of his chair settings) but not so long as to make Clark nervous.

Three minutes and fifteen seconds of contemplating just how he could remove his ability to speak while the spell was active. His tongue idea was getting more and more appealing with every slip of Brucie when he and Clark were together.

As he pulled out of the garage he let his mind wander. He let himself think about how, as he settled into himself, he found that “Brucie” was less of an act and more of an exaggeration.

No, he wasn’t getting drunk and falling into fountains or breaking champagne glasses. But, he loved the way people smiled at him after a well timed flirty compliment.

He loved the cherry red blush Clark donned whenever he dared be genuine with him.

Not to mention, he really did enjoy giving the media something to focus on. If that meant making himself seem like he was a few tools short of a toolbox, so be it. As long as it meant he and his kids weren’t constantly targeted by negative media.

He also enjoyed how… open he could be as “Brucie.” There was something refreshing about being asked about his kids and being able to open the godawful foldout wallet he had with pictures of them all- three of each kid, plus a full family photo- and show them off.

The joy he felt when his kids groaned at his most recent interview, once again veering into the topic of how proud he was of all of them, was unmatched.

But, it was the easiest way for him to express how amazing he thought they all were. He found it hard, especially in the beginning, to say those things to their faces. After shouting it to any reporter or news outlet that would listen, he found the steadying “good job.” or “you’re doing well, I’m proud of you” easier to say.

Hell, if it wasn’t for his natural ability to command the attention of a room he wouldn’t have made it a day with the Justice League.

If he found the comparison of the world’s protectors to a room of Gotham’s most snobbish to be hilarious, well that was his business.

Either way, he found himself becoming closer and closer to the “Brucie” persona he perpetuated. He also didn’t mind it.

Perhaps part of that came from how Clark reacted to him.

A bigger part than he’d like to admit.

The drive back to Gotham went by in a blur. He saw a text from Tim that consisted of a takeout container emoji, and a smirking emoji. Whatever that meant.

He decided that it would be best to get back to Wayne Enterprises for the day. Give him something to distract himself since he likely wouldn’t be physically patrolling tonight. Clark would insist it’s too dangerous to do with the spell still affecting him.

He might actually be inclined to agree. He couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t jump in front of a bullet for Clark right now, regardless of his personal safety. And there was no way he could go on patrol without Clark asking to tag along.

He was in no position to be saying ‘no’ to Clark right now.

He figured they could stay in the cave. He could throw on some workout shorts and have Clark tangle their legs together at the batcomputer. That thought carried him all the way back to Gotham and up to his office.

Where he found Tim and Kon sharing a late lunch.

They were eating Chinese takeout.

“No! Absolutely not! The best episode of Gray Ghost is “Electric Man” no questions! Hey Bruce. “The Road Trip” is solid in its own right, but it will never topple episode nineteen!” Kon was gesturing wildly, signs of a conversation they had absolutely had before.

“Don’t mean to interrupt your date, I’ll grab my laptop and bother Lucius! But Tim? Get your boyfriend some taste, the best Gray Ghost is obviously episode ten.” Bruce’s tease jump started their conversation, he could only laugh at Tim and Kon immediately disparaging his choice.

Kon was able to call out “If Clark agrees with you he’s lying because he thinks you're pretty!” just as the door was about to click closed behind Bruce.

The implication brought a light flush to Bruce’s neck and ears. He really hoped Clark hadn’t been listening in. Though, between it being Conner, himself, and Tim- there was almost no chance he didn’t-

Bruce’s phone dinged. A single text message.

[He’s right ;)]

Bruce huffed out a laugh, “Only you would still use emoticons.”

Another text. [Hey! Don’t pretend you don’t use them too! >:1]

“We both need to get back to work, Clark.”

A third text, [I can hear you smiling :3]

Bruce laughs again. “Because it looks like you’re having a very in depth conversation with yourself in my messages. Now hush.”

Clark sent back one final message. [<3]

Bruce sent his first text of the day. [...<3]

He quickly put his phone on silent, unwilling to obsessively check and see if Clark said anything else. Their exchange was done.

He ended up actually getting swept away in work, despite his initial distractions. Lucius asked him to look over some budgets while Tim was still at lunch and found a few mismatched numbers.

Thankfully it was a simple typing error, a six instead of a three, and not an elaborate and well hidden embezzling scheme.

However, after looking so deeply into that he felt the need to then triple check all the accounts for the last month, silently paranoid he had missed other small errors.

He couldn’t allow WE to come under fire. Even for a simple mistake. His money helped too many people for it to be tied up and unable to be used.

So, when 5:45 rolled around and he still hadn’t checked his phone, too busy working with Tim on checking their last few tax returns, Clark was worried.

So worried, in fact, that after he waited in the Batcave for nearing an hour, he figured it couldn’t hurt to go check on him. Other than the constant ear he had been keeping of his heartbeat for the last thirty minutes, that is.

It was easy to find him, he had been honing in on him since he left Jimmy and Lois at the office. He ducked into a dark alley to quickly touch down without being noticed.

He figured he might have trouble getting into the building. Wayne Enterprises had notoriously high security, and Clark had actually been there before to do an interview with the board of directors for one of Bruce’s charities.

He remembered having to show both government and press ID, as well as being passed through a metal detector. He felt like he was at the airport.

Today when he walked through the doors, however, he was simply asked for his driver’s licence and sent right up. Not before he was told “He’s in his office.” paired with a wink from the receptionist.

He shook off the weird interaction and made his way to the back elevator. The one that needed a pin before it would start moving. He hardly looked at the pin pad as he poked at it, desperately needing to get up to Bruce’s office and be assured everything was okay.

He didn’t know why he was so out of whack from not seeing Bruce.

They had spent much longer apart, had almost never spent so much time together on a work day- unless league business made them both leave the office.

Maybe it was the lingering thought of Bruce’s time limit. How if he was away for too long Bruce would start feeling pain.

Or perhaps it wasn’t. He couldn’t be sure, at least not until he saw Bruce.

When the elevator finally, finally made it to the top floor Clark rushed out, following the unfamiliar path to Bruce’s office. He hoped his few visits didn’t fail him now.

When he saw the large wooden door he forced himself to take a moment to breathe. There was nothing wrong, he would know if there was. It was likely just a case of working late and nothing more.

With the veil of irrationality finally lifting off of him, Clark entered the office.

“Okay, we’ve combed through everything for this year so far and our last few tax returns. I think that’s far enough back, right B?” Tim was standing around the side of their shared desk, head far too close to the surface for it to be comfortable.

“Yeah it should, sorry for dragging you into this, Tim. I hope no one’s waiting on you?” Bruce was standing with his back towards Clark, looking at the same paper Tim was.

“Nah, not tonight. But it looks like someone was waiting for you…”

Clark heard the smile in his voice before he saw it, Tim only looking towards Clark after he finished speaking.

Bruce’s head snapped up and he whipped around. With a quick glance at his watch he quietly swore. “Clark I’m… ahem.” He turned towards his son before continuing. “Sorry, little wing. You’re good to go. Did you drive today? I can call Alfred to pick you up, if you want.”

Tim snorted out a laugh. “You’re ridiculous. No- I’ll head up to the roof and cry for Superboy, let him know there’s a spoiled rich brat about to do something stupid if his knight in shining leather doesn’t come save him.”

He started walking towards the door before pausing and looking back at Bruce and Clark, “He’s probably already on his way, even though I told him I’d be working late- if our example is anything to go by.” Tim’s smirk was directed at Bruce, but Clark felt it.

“Tell Kon we say hello! And… he’s gone, got it.” Bruce called after Tim, the door between them slowly closing.

The remaining two turned to finally face each other, nothing left to distract them.

“So-”

“I’m-”

They started speaking at the same time. Clark gestured for Bruce to go first, not even quite sure where he was going to go once he started speaking.

“Right. I was going to apologize for not letting you know I’d be late. So, I’m sorry. However I am glad I decided to make the trip to the front to add you to the approved guest entry list. That must have made getting up here that much easier.”

Clark smiled, trying to break the little bit of tension lingering around them. “Is that why it felt like a regular building and not an airport today?”

“Seeing as Gotham has more terrorists than the average airport does, I’ll take that as a compliment. But, to answer your question, yes. I told my front desk team to keep you on the short list of people who can come and go freely, just with a simple ID check.”

“Point made,” Clark laughed, “When did you have time to do all of that today?”

Bruce’s head tilted, not unlike a curious cat, Clark’s mind supplied. “Today? I did that months ago.”

Clark took a measured breath in so his resolve didn’t crumble. The thought that Bruce trusted him enough to let him traipse around Wayne Enterprises uninhibited stirred something like butterflies up in his gut.

“Oh, that’s awful sweet of ya.” He pushed his glasses up his nose with a knuckle. Powerless to do anything more than let his ‘aw shucks’ instincts take over.

He wasn’t even this bad in high school!

Bruce was having an internal crisis.

Every single one of his nerves was alight with the need to rush towards Clark and all but tackle him into a kiss. Ruffle his perfect curls, knock his glasses askew. Get him to blush an even more violent red than he already was.

Maybe even get him to break his perfect midwestern boy act to swallow around a curse.

Instead, he looked to the ground and whispered, “Oh, that's just unfair.” A smile threatening to split his face, and a blush threatening to cook it.

Impossibly, Clark blushed darker, as if he truly didn’t know what he did to Bruce.

“We’re gonna have to get out of here soon if you don’t want me doing something you’ll regret.” Bruce tried to joke, only missing by a small bit.

Clark didn’t question why Bruce thought he would regret anything that happened between them. It was Bruce who was under the effects of a spell.

But, his words broke Clark out of his stupor. “Oh, right! Yes, so… home?” He offered a hand out to Bruce, silently offering to fly them back to the manor.

Yet, he called it home. And that sent Bruce’s mind down a spiral of domesticity.

Flashes of early morning coffee, late night movies, stealing each other’s clothes because they’re ‘comfier’ than their own. He had to focus to control his heart rate, to ensure it didn’t spike while Clark could see exactly what was written all over his face.

“I- we… My car?” Bruce hated that he asked it like a question.

He had made so many snide remarks about not wanting to let Clark fly him anywhere without an emergency need to. He couldn’t admit that, now, the thought of being pressed against him floating through the sky was exhilarating.

Clark put his palm to his forehead. “How could I forget! Well, I can join you for the drive, if you’d like some company?”

Bruce was nodding before Clark was even finished asking the question. “Come on,” he grabbed Clark’s proffered hand, “Let’s get to the garage.”

Clark looked down at their joined hands, desperately attempting to not overthink the action.

Bruce pulled him through the halls of Wayne Enterprises, pausing briefly to say hurried goodbyes and ‘your boss is a jerk anyways, go home!’ to the few people still left in the building.

Clark couldn’t help his smile, Bruce’s hand occasionally tightened around his as they turned through the halls. He still didn’t drop Clark’s hand as they made it inside the elevator, quickly dropping them to the ground floor.

Instead, he locked their fingers together, rubbing his thumb against Clark’s skin like it was an old habit.

Somehow, it was more intimate than anything else the spell had them doing.

Clark was about to speak, say anything to calm his racing heart, when the elevator dinged. They had already made it to the garage floor where Bruce parked.

“Come on, I’ll drive so you don’t have to have another heart attack.” His smirk spoke for itself.

“Not my fault you drive a car worth more than my apartment.” He snarked back, knowing it was at least partially true.

With their still clasped hands Bruce tugged him, getting him to stop. “Not my fault you didn’t believe me when I said anything could happen to the car as long as you were okay.” But, without giving Clark a chance to respond, he clicked his keys and unlocked his car, leading them both the last few feet they needed to go.

They were forced to drop hands to get in the car. But, Clark didn’t have time to mourn the loss before Bruce reclasped their hands across the center console.

He was able to start the car and smoothly pull it out of his parking spot with one hand, something that Clark found unreasonably attractive.

Their drive was filled with idle chatter; catching up on the latter half of their work days, asking after all the kids, generally enjoying some time together. The entire time, Bruce did not let up on the slow circles he was rubbing into Clark’s hand.

It kept sending microshivers up Clark’s arm, he desperately wanted to mirror the action, show Bruce that same kind of simple affection.

But if he was doing it as an unconscious show due to the magic? Clark couldn’t risk accidentally making him stop.

That was his conundrum the entire drive back to Wayne Manor. By the time he resolved to finally mimic the comforting action, they had pulled into the driveway.

So, in a cruel twist of fate, just as he went to move his hand and offer Bruce the same comfort he was giving, Bruce let go of him to pull the keys from the ignition.

Clark mentally cursed himself for letting the opportunity slip.

They quickly made their way inside, briefly pausing so Bruce could hang his keys by the door. “Alright, I say we both shower early. Then we can be down in the cave for the start of a few patrols- since we won’t be going on any.”

Clark nodded, trying to move past the thought of them both showering together, that's not what Bruce was implying.

“You need to eat something before we go down to the cave- I know how you get when you’re not on the field.” He held Bruce’s bedroom door open for him, before following him in.

Bruce held out his hand, motioning for Clark to hand over his blazer. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll shower then eat- before going down to the cave. Happy?”

“Extremely.” Clark’s smile was smug, an after effect of getting one of the bats to acquiesce to you. “Also, where are you taking my suit jacket?”

Bruce had walked into the closet with both of their jackets in hand, Clark peered in behind him. “They’re going to be dry cleaned..? I’ll need your shirt and pants too.” The implication of what he said caught up to him a moment too late. He had to force himself to keep his gaze steady.

“These aren’t the dry cleaning type…” Clark trailed off, unsure of why Bruce was going to these lengths for him.

“Clearly. But, once they’re dry cleaned once they hold a press better. That way you won’t feel bad about ‘ruining’ Alfred’s work.” Bruce laughed, a bit at Clark’s expense.

Clark could only focus on the smile.

There was a long pause in which neither of them spoke. Mostly because it was Clark’s turn in the conversation and he couldn’t think about anything other than the small smile on Bruce’s face.

“Clark? Do you… want to shower first?” Bruce broke the silence, bringing Clark back to the conversation.

Clark blinked rapidly, figuring out just what he had missed. “Wh- oh! Yeah, sure. If you don’t mind?” Getting him out of Bruce’s immediate vicinity was probably for the best. He didn’t even have enough wits about him to offer Bruce his own shower first.

They stayed there, standing and staring at each other for a moment too long. Clark was finally able to shake himself free of Bruce’s orbit, taking a step backwards before turning and walking into the bathroom.

Bruce watched the door click closed, pointedly not followed by the lock.

He sat on the edge of his bed, quickly letting his face fall into the cradle of his hands. He could feel the heat radiating off of his face and neck.

The magic was getting more and more difficult to oppose. If he wasn’t afraid of Clark finding out too much he would call Zatanna and ask her why.

Since that was out of the question, he was stuck suffering trying to fight through it.

He already slipped with all of the hand holding as they were leaving. He hoped Clark wrote it off as the necessary skin contact, not the ploy for physical affection it was.

After a few deep breaths, to try and even out his complexion again, Bruce stood.

Hopefully Clark would take a normal speed shower, give them both time to recalibrate after whatever their clusterfuck of a day was.

He stood again, determined to carry on as if it were a normal day. With his suit jacket off he could tug off his tie and cufflinks. With everything back in its place he quickly rolled up his sleeves and made his way out to the kitchen.

Once there he mindlessly made himself another cup of coffee, iced this time- he’d have to thank Alfred for the forethought, and still in the same damned mug Tim and Cass stuck him with this morning.

Whatever. With any luck he could make the statement true with the twenty-three step plan Dick not so subtly left in his briefcase a month ago. He figured it was a team effort between his kids, but he recognized Dick’s handwork with breaking and entering.

He took his coffee into his study, there was some paperwork he could fill his time with before he showered. League business mostly.

After a few distracted minutes Bruce was able to find a groove of working. Between signing off on payment requests for League caused damage and approving mission reports he found himself distracted.

Momentarily free of thoughts of Clark.

A few minutes after he noticed his coffee was empty, he heard a knock on his office door. He didn’t have a chance to answer before it was pushed open.

“Master Bruce, would you like more coffee?” Alfred was holding a tray with the carafe of iced coffee from the fridge, along with a small milk pot, and sugar dish.

“Oh that would be lovely, thank you.” Bruce looked up and offered a small smile before turning back to the paper he was reviewing.

As Alfred poured the coffee over the slightly melted ice in his mug, Bruce got the distinct feeling that Alfred was waiting for him to break the silence.

Without looking away from his document, though no longer reading it, he spoke. “You know I don’t do well with silent conversation starters. I’d much rather settle in silence than fill it.”

Alfred held out the milk pot to Bruce, letting him decide how diluted he was going to have his coffee before answering. “I haven’t the foggiest what you’re talking about. Though, perhaps if you were in need of a listening ear…” He trailed off before dropping a single sugar cube into the cup.

Bruce set his pen down, figuring there was no getting out of this without his full attention. “Subtlty has never been our thing. If you want me to answer something, you’re going to have to ask the question.” Bruce raised an expectant eyebrow and poured a hefty amount of milk into his cup.

Alfred raised one right back, having been the one Bruce learned all its many uses from. “Fine. I want to know how you are coping against this magic making you spend so much time in such close proximity to Mr. Kent.”

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows. “You haven’t called him ‘Mr. Kent’ in ages, what’s going on?”

“I’ll allow you this one distraction before you answer. If he is going to be a more, let’s say… permanent fixture around here, I figured it would do him well to remember his role.”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “You’re being ridiculous. This spell isn’t going to change anything. I will take a couple of days to lie low, stay around Gotham, and it will all blow over by the end of next week.”

Alfred’s face was carefully blank. “There is simply no helping you.” Despite his words, Alfred lingered. Silently giving Bruce an opportunity.

They stayed in silence for a moment, both listening to Bruce stir his coffee absentmindedly.

Bruce’s gaze carefully avoided Alfred’s eyes. Something about making eye contact with him made Bruce’s defenses crumble. He stopped stirring his coffee.

Alfred cleared his throat pointedly, narrowing his eyes at Bruce. Simply waiting the man out.

In a moment of weakness Bruce let his eyes find Alfred’s. He could feel his innate need to keep things bottled up wavering. The longer they made eye contact the more difficult it was getting.

With a deep sigh through his nose, Bruce spoke. “Fine. It’s… complicated but not impossible.” He looked back to his papers, though still not reading them. “The adjustment back to regular life will be a curve, nothing I can’t handle.”

Alfred let his mouth lift in a small smile. “Very clinical. What about him? Is he compartmentalizing quite as heavily as you seem to be?”

Bruce tightened his grip on his pen, poised over his documents as if he was prepared to sign them.

“I have been trying my best to avoid making him uncomfortable. He has always been more tactile than I am, so it seems I am succeeding.” He was hyper aware of the color flooding his face.

Alfred’s responding nod didn’t quell the heat flaring off his face. “I take it that he has been receptive to your… affectionate needs? Master Tim regaled me with quite the tale from this morning when I saw him before leaving.”

Bruce pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth. He would never understand how he managed to wrangle the only people able to break past his inner walls and call them all family. “Receptive is a good word for it. He is a good man, one that doesn’t want to see me in unnecessary pain.”

“Restructuring his entire life around you for a week does seem to be a bit of overkill for a man who can fly between here and Metropolis in a few moments, doesn’t it?” Alfred’s tone was casual, as if that exact thought hadn’t been plaguing Bruce this entire time.

Bruce swallowed back his instinctive snark. Alfred would just look at him blankly and wait for him to try again.

“Are you truly willing to listen to all of this now?” Bruce still felt the need to check in, give himself an extra minute to really consider if he was willing to say all of this now.

“I am always willing to take some of the burden off your shoulders, I know you know that.”

Bruce quickly nodded. He knew he could ask nearly anything of Alfred and there wouldn’t be much more than a conversation about it.

They stayed in silence for a moment, something loaded with whatever Bruce had left unspoken.

“I am… having a very difficult time reminding myself where all of the lines are.” Bruce didn’t speak for a moment, giving himself time to think.

Alfred stood quietly next to him, a solid presence in an otherwise endlessly shifting situation.

“I am getting dangerously close to doing something stupid. Like confessing my… feelings to him. The kids have been telling me to do it already, and just as I was laying plans to follow through, this happened.” Bruce ran a hand through his hair, messing it up worse than the day had.

“If I may. I do not think that option is a stupid as you claim it is. Especially now, given the circumstances it seems mutually beneficial.” Alfred organised the corner of Bruce’s desk, giving him the opportunity to overturn the words in his head.

“It puts me at a tactical disadvantage.”

Alfred rolled his eyes. “Try again.”

Bruce scoffed. “Fine.” A pause. “Bringing this information to the table now has the chance to push him away, I cannot afford that right now, given the spell.” Bruce raised an eyebrow in question, silently inviting Alfred to rebuke him again.

“You know he wouldn’t leave you to suffer. This means the forced proximity will mitigate any need for awkwardness no matter the outcome. That way there will be no ill effect on any of your more professional business.”

Bruce finally dropped his pen, letting his face rest in his hands instead. “I don't need you actually giving me good reasons to do this. I am at the edge of my limits already.”

Alfred smiled. “Your shower just turned off, I suggest coming to a conclusion soon. For optimal results and the least chance for strained relations you should do something sooner rather than later.” He collected the items he came in with, and turned to exit.

“Alfred!” Bruce called, just as his hand hovered at the doorknob. “...Thank you.”

With a smile thrown over his shoulder, Alfred answered. “What else am I here for?” Before walking out and letting the door click closed behind him.

Bruce huffed out a laugh and shook his head. He knew how lucky he was to have Alfred.

In an attempt to not waste his entire evening deliberating over the issue with Clark, he turned back to his work. He had already looked at the same damage report at least three times without retaining any of the information.

He slowly sipped his coffee, letting his eyes follow the words on his papers. The back of his mind buzzed with the possibilities to come.

With his focus split he was taking more time to read through his documents. He hated dedicating so much brain power to the more menial tasks that came with funding the Justice League, but they had to get done one way or another.

And this was not the kind of paperwork Tim found any interest in doing, unfortunately.

With a large sip of coffee he focused, getting through the rest of his stack of paperwork, armed with the knowledge that he would be reminding everyone, again, that their goal is to mitigate damages.

(Ahem, Green Lantern.)

He heard Clark open and close his bedroom door just as he was putting his pen back in its holder, his steps were too light to hear through the thick wood of his office door, though.

Without anything left to distract him, Bruce’s mind drifted to Clark once more.

He turned over Alfred’s words, then Tim’s, then Zatanna’s. All three of them trying to give him the push he seemed to need.

What more could he ask for? Three different parties, all a different level of bias, it was a good sample size by his regular measures.

Bruce knew that nothing short of Clark himself confessing first would ever eliminate all of his worries. Even then, he would probably assume some sort of foul play as a knee jerk reaction.

He shook his head.

He could feel his hands starting to feel dry and uncomfortable. He had already spent more time away from Clark than they planned.

Bruce leaned back in his chair and stretched his back, laughing at the memory of Clark’s face earlier that day when he cracked his back.

“What’s got you in a good mood?” Clark pushed the door open, his own mug of coffee in hand.

“Thinking about you- you’re reaction this morning when I cracked my back. When you were convinced I had broken something.” Bruce nearly let himself slip, thankfully the recovery seemed smooth enough.

Clark made his way to the front of Bruce’s desk, setting his cup down on a coaster before leaning in. His hands found purchase on the empty half of Bruce’s desk, letting him rest there, wet hair threatening to drip on the wood.

“I stand by the panic, you shouldn’t be intact after whatever noise your back made.” Clark’s smile and raised eyebrow offered a challenge. Daring Bruce to contradict him.

Bruce stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles, a smug smile slowly growing on his face. With a raised eyebrow he turned his head sharp enough to crack his neck, letting out a soft groan of satisfaction at the feeling.

Clark’s self-assured smile dropped, replaced with a similar look of worry. “What the heck! You can’t just do that! You’re going to give me a heart attack!”

Bruce cracked the other side of his neck.

“Stop! I get it!” Clark moved to the other side of the desk, coming up behind Bruce’s chair to hold his head in place. His large palms resting on either side of Bruce’s neck.

Clark could feel Bruce’s deep laugh through his hands, sending a small shiver down his back.

Bruce looked up and behind him, catching Clark’s eye. “Thats the reaction that had me laughing.”

Clark looked down at Bruce, unable to stop his eyes from flicking to Bruce’s lips. “Is that so? Does that mean you’re expecting a show every morning, then?”

Bruce let his eyes roam Clark’s face, viewing him upside down. “Hmm, I could be persuaded to lower my expectations…” He trailed off, knowing he was stepping into dangerous territory.

“And your preferred method of persuasion?” Clark leaned forward, slowly crowding Bruce’s space. He let his chest rest against the top of Bruce’s head, still tilted back to look up at Clark.

“That depends on who’s asking, I must admit.” Bruce let his eyes linger on Clark’s lips, a silent plea for him to take the leap.

Clark leaned down a bit further, moving his hands to rest on Bruce’s chair, on either side of his shoulders. “And if I’m asking?”

He missed the feelings of Clark’s hands on him. “Then I think you could get me to agree to just about any terms.” Bruce accompanied his words with a wink.

He relished in Clark’s bright blush.

Clark leaned in further, Bruce could feel his short puffs of breath on his face. “I’m sure I could come up with some…”

Bruce could feel his eyes starting to close, half lidded and watching Clark’s every move.

“Hmm, I think I hear Alfred calling for dinner. You wouldn’t keep him waiting… would you, Bruce?” Clark moved to whisper in Bruce’s ear, delighting in the hitch in Bruce’s breathing.

Bruce let his shoulders slump, “As long as we can pick up back here after.” He let his eyes close as he raised an eyebrow.

Clark made no moves to leave, “As in your office, or as in this position?” The tease was evident behind his smile.

Bruce cracked an eye open and smirked. “Either, I can be… flexible.” He ignored the heat flaring up over his ears in favor of focusing on Clark’s smile.

“Trust me, I’ve seen you be plenty flexible, there’s no need to remind me.” He stood up straight, leaving Bruce’s personal space. “Alright, dinner time. Let’s go.” Clark began walking towards the door, pausing on the other side of Bruce’s desk to give him a moment to catch up.

Bruce let out a silent sigh, it was getting increasingly difficult to keep his feelings in check. Especially seeing as he loved pulling reactions out of Clark, waiting to see what he would do next.

Bruce followed Clark to the kitchen, carrying his mug with him.

“It will just be you two, the boys are eating in the family room, Damian needed to pick Duke’s brain for a school project. It’s Cass’ night with Stephanie and Barbara. Dick and Jason aren’t home for the evening. I’m sure Tim told you his plans before leaving work for the day.” Alfred told them, without looking over his shoulder.

“And you?” Bruce couldn’t help asking.

Alfred stopped stirring the sauce he was making, “Sir, I have seen you at many points during your life, I do not think this needs to be one of them.” His raised eyebrow caused a flush to settle on Bruce’s face.

“Right! Point taken. No follow ups.” Bruce quickly spat out.

“That’s what I thought. Now, I made baked chicken alfredo, I trust you will be able to put away leftovers?”

“Of course! It’s the least we can do.” Clark spoke up for them.

Alfred’s responding smile and nod was in response to more than the agreement from Clark. “Good, now, I’ll leave you to it. I left water on the table for you.” Alfred turned off the remaining burner and left the kitchen.

“You put together our breakfasts, let me get dinner.” Clark was already at the stove by the time he finished speaking.

Bruce, for what it was worth, really did plan to avoid any untoward behavior. Keep his head down and get through this week with no other incidents- especially ones like what happened in his office or back in Metropolis.

However, the view of Clark in his kitchen, sweat shorts and t-shirt making him the picture of domesticity, threw his plans to the wind.

Instead, he walked up behind Clark and wound his arms around his waist, letting his bare forearms push Clark’s t-shirt up enough to expose some of his stomach. “I guess I have to give you the same treatment you gave me- since you’re making up our plates.” Bruce let his head hook over Clark’s shoulder.

Even if he wasn’t listening for it Bruce knew that Clark would be able to feel his heart beating rapidly against his back. He figured there was no point in controlling it now.

“You feeling okay?” Leave it to Clark to give him an out rather than asking why the hell his heart was attempting to jump out of him.

Bruce let out a contented sigh, “Never better.” He let himself relax against Clark’s back even further.

Clark smiled, letting himself believe Bruce- stopping himself from overthinking every move and action.

He had been concerned when Bruce was hit with the spell. He was worried that Bruce acting in love with him would tear him apart from the inside.

This, though? Everything that had Bruce acting like himself with less barriers and things to second guess, that felt good.

He wasn’t sure what exactly it meant, but he had hope.

The fact that Bruce wasn’t tripping over himself and drooling for Clark’s attention made him think he had a real chance.

Clark quietly finished plating their food, moving as little as possible so he didn’t jostle Bruce around. He patted Bruce’s hand before picking up the two plates and walking them to the same table they ate breakfast at.

Bruce moved with him until they got to the table. This time he made to sit across from Clark, offering out his right arm for Clark to hold onto as they ate.

Clark smiled and took the offer, setting his hand on Bruce’s forearm, just below where his rolled up sleeve ended, pressing their arms together.

They ate in relative silence, both content to let the echoing sounds of the manor surround them.

About half-way through their meal, Clark spoke up. “So, do I get to ask why the magic isn’t affecting you the way Zatanna assumed it would?” His tone was conversational, light. No inclination that this thought had been plaguing him since the onset of this whole disaster.

Unless you knew where to look.

Bruce could see it in the way he pressed his thumb into his pointer finger, around the fork, so he didn’t bend the metal. He could see the small downturn of Clark's lips, and the way his teeth chewed his bottom lip from the inside.

He could see it in the way Clark was holding himself so still, not letting any of his usual unconscious habits break through his focus.

Bruce watched him for a moment, letting the question linger over them.

“Do you really want to know the answer to that?”

Clark’s gaze flicked up to meet Bruce’s. “More than anything, if I’m honest.”

Bruce looked down at his food, wondering if the following conversation would make him lose his appetite.

Bruce nodded, taking an extra moment to collect himself. “Alright. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“When have you even known me to heed any warnings anyway?” Clark smiled, hoping to get Bruce’s eyes back on him.

It worked.

Clark felt pinned in place. Bruce’s blue, blue eyes locking him down and making him hang onto Bruce’s every word.

“Magic can’t replace something that’s already there.”

He said it as if it was so simple. As if there was nothing more to it.

As if seven words hadn’t turned Clark’s world on its side.

Bruce could see the awe in his eyes, sitting there almost unbelieving. So, he continued. “I told Zatanna. She seemed to have an overwhelming amount of sympathy for me.” Bruce took a sip from his water.

The only sign that Clark was retaining anything Bruce was saying was his rapid blinking. Bruce continued once more. “Tim helped me workshop a story to tell you. A way to throw anyone off of the idea that the reason the magic isn’t affecting me is because I-” He paused.

Bruce looked down at their cradled arms. “Well, because I’m already in love with you. So opposing the magic was just a test of self-control. Of which I usually have a lot of. Evidently my well has run dry.”

After another moment of silence Bruce began to move his arm, resigned to giving Clark a moment to consider everything he had been told. “I’ll give you some ti-”

Clark’s hold on his forearm tightened minutely. “Wait! No, please- Stay? I just… need a moment.”

Bruce, for once in his life, let himself hope.

He sat back and tried to relax. Letting the warmth of Clark’s arm against his keep him grounded. Leaned back in his chair, he figured all he could do was wait.

Clark, for his part, was trying not to freak out.

It wasn’t working. At least not really. He was doing the Kryptonian equivalent of blue-screening at Bruce’s table.

His mind was flitting between general excitement and abject horror.

The only reason there was any room for horror was due to the spell. He trusted Bruce with his life, his kid’s life- hell with the world at large. However, he was still able to be affected by magic- there was no changing that.

Clark thought back to everything Zatanna said, though. Thought about everything she told them should be happening.

That, combined with Bruce’s direct and uninhibited confession made for a very compelling case.

And damn if Clark didn’t want to just believe him at his word.

“You won’t take it back in a week when Zatanna is able to get the spell off of you, right?” He just had to be sure, he had to cover his one spot of insecurity shining through.

“There isn’t a spell out there that could change the way I have felt about you for the last- well, for a long time.” Bruce caught himself. Still unwilling to admit just how long he had held a torch for the untouchable man that was Clark Kent.

Clark smiled and caught Bruce’s eyes again. “So everything this week..?” He trailed off, now wondering how candid Bruce would be.

“All me, boosted by the spell lowering my inhibitions and affecting my amount of control. Not to mention the forced proximity already fraying the tight string I had around my self-restraint.”

Clark’s smile grew. “Can I expect the clinical talk to continue?”

Bruce pursed his lips trying to fight back a smile. “Unless you’d like to hear everything in an equally unbearable but much more sappy form.”

“Well let’s see, I’ve gotten a full ‘Brucie,’ right now you seem to be leaning pretty far into ‘Batman’ territory, you got something in there I can just call Bruce?” Clark leaned forward over the table.

Bruce followed him, leaning slightly forward. “Well, right now, all ‘Bruce’ wants to do is kiss you. Then maybe take a shower so we can spend the rest of the evening answering all the questions that are undoubtedly floating through both of our heads.”

Clark smiled so wide his eyes were nearly shut. In a quick move, one that made him more grateful for his superpowers than anything else had that day, he lifted Bruce and flew them both upstairs to his room.

“I’ll get the leftovers while you shower. I think I was promised a kiss, though…” Clark set them both back on the ground, his hands staying on Bruce’s waist.

“I might be interested in that…” Bruce let a smirk settle on his face.

“You might be interested?” Clark could hear his own incredulous tone slipping through as he laughed.

Bruce laughed with him. “Come over here and kiss me, Kal.”

Clark didn’t have to be told twice. In an instant he was cradling Bruce’s face between his hands, guiding them together.

If Bruce thought touching made the magic ease up, kissing practically expelled it.

He couldn’t feel anything other than Clark’s lips on his, the hot skin of his palms gently guiding their faces together. Bruce’s hands found purchase on Clark’s shoulders, just barely keeping him grounded.

He closed the small distance between them, letting his chest brush against Clark’s, their legs tangling together as they stood.

Clark slid his hands into Bruce’s hair, relishing in the way Bruce leaned into it, giving him more access to deepen their kiss.

He started slow, not wanting to overwhelm Bruce by accident. A small nip to his bottom lip, a quick slide of his tongue.

Bruce wasn’t having it. With his grip on Clark’s shoulders he led them backwards toward his bed, letting the backs of his knees hit the side and send them both onto it.

Thankfully Clark was quick on his feet, he managed to get a knee on the bed, making sure they didn’t have to break their kiss as Bruce sat down.

Bruce tugged him further down, finally getting Clark to settle on his lap. With a small hum Bruce let himself take the kiss further.

He settled his hands on Clark’s hips and teased the seam of his mouth with his tongue.

Clark’s grip on his hair tightened, pulling a quiet groan from Bruce. Clark couldn’t help his small smile at the sound.

Bruce didn’t pull back, but he spoke against Clark’s lips, “Of course that would make you smile.” He could hear the fondness dripping through his tone.

In lieu of an answer Clark kissed him again with a renewed vigor, this time immediately tilting his head and mirroring Bruce’s previous movements as best he could.

Bruce’s hands squeezed his hips, encouraging him.

Clark let his hands wander. He palmed the planes of Bruce’s back, something he had wanted to do for longer than he’d like to admit. Especially so in one of those oh so tight dress shirts. He let his short nails lightly scratch up Bruce’s spine through his shirt before tugging it free from where it was tucked into his pants.

Clark let more of his weight settle into Bruce’s lap, wholly unafraid unlike he had ever been before. With new access to Bruce’s skin he let his hands push Bruce in closer by the small of his back, delighting in the trim waist fitting perfectly in his grip.

Bruce moved willingly. Glad to let Clark mold him like clay.

If either of them had more of their wits about them, they might have found it within themselves to be embarrassed by the loud smacking of their lips together. One kiss leading into two, until there was nothing left to count.

As it was, they were far too wrapped up in each other to notice anything else.

Following Clark’s lead, Bruce let his hands wander. The thin t-shirt draped over Clark, perfect to stretch and bunch as he so pleased.

He relished in the feeling of Clark’s back muscles tensing under his light brushes.

After about a minute of Bruce’s unrelenting and yet nearly nonexistent grazes Clark huffed out a breath into their kiss. “You tease.” He said, between pants.

Bruce couldn’t help his answering smirk, “But teasing feels so good,” He took the opportunity to squeeze Clark’s waist, delighting in the gasp it pulled from Clark, “right Kal?”

Clark’s head was thrown backwards, giving Bruce new access to the column of his throat. Of which he took immediate advantage of.

He trailed kisses from the shell of Clark’s ear, down the line of his jaw, only pausing to leave light nips. As he made it to the base of his neck, just above Clark’s collar bones, he felt a lance of disappointment shoot through him.

“Such a shame none of these will last.”

Clark’s eyes shot open at Bruce’s words. He was, for the first time in his life, a bit upset at his enhanced healing. Clark moved one of his hands to the back of Bruce’s head, encouraging the small love bites, despite the fact that they wouldn’t last.

He could feel Bruce’s smirk against his skin.

“We could get you under a red light lamp, let you have more of me than any of my publicity stunts ever did.” Bruce knew he was practically babbling.

He was helpless to do anything else, though, with Clark in his lap emboldening him.

Bruce let out a delighted sigh when Clark’s hands made their way back into his hair.

Perhaps if the little noises Bruce was letting out weren’t so distracting, Clark might have heard the front door close, or even the approaching footsteps.

However, with his mind on Bruce and Bruce alone, he missed all of the warnings they would have had letting them know that someone was approaching Bruce’s, very open, bedroom door.

“Oh my god! If you’re going to be in here necking like randy teenagers at least close the fucking door! Come on dad! Ugh!”

Dick’s loud exclamation had Clark reeling backwards, nearly falling out of Bruce’s lap and onto the floor. It was only Bruce’s unwavering grip on his hips that kept him upright.

“Sorry chum!” Was all Bruce could shout at Dick’s retreating form.

After a momentary pause Bruce pressed his face into Clark’s neck and began laughing.

Clark choked out “Yeah, I left the door wide open- whoops?” Before joining Bruce in his laughter.

They stayed there, sat together on Bruce’s bed for a long while. Laughing and trying to catch their breath.

Bruce wrapped his arms fully around Clark, hugging the man as if they hadn’t already spent the better part of two days wrapped up in each other.

After a few minutes, once their laughter was only felt in their temporarily sore abdomen muscles, Bruce was able to speak. “We should probably go see him. If I know my kids, and I do know my kids, the news of the spell has definitely spread. It would probably be for the best to let at least one of them know this wasn’t spell induced before it hits their group chat.”

Clark let out one last laugh. “This’ll get around quick, I take it?”

“You’d think it was Wally’s doing.”

Clark took that as his cue and climbed out of Bruce’s lap. Bruce immediately missed his warmth and comforting weight, but it was best they handled this sooner rather than later.

“Alright, he likes you better, you have to come with me.” Bruce grabbed Clark’s hand and began leading him out of the room.

“He does not like me better!”

“He always said you would pick him up when he threatened to run away, and he was right. He might have been twelve but I think it still stands.”

Clark could tell Bruce was mostly joking, but did actually recall quite a few instances where the first Robin would call him from a random roof top and demand to be taken to Metropolis. Thankfully a fly around Gotham City proper usually managed to calm him down enough to explain what happened with Batman that time.

“Point taken. But I think finding me in his dad’s lap making out on his bed will take me down a notch or twenty.” Clark tightened his hold on Bruce’s hand, smiling widely.

“I think he was more affronted that I was kissing Superman than the other way around.” Bruce raised an eyebrow at him before tugging him closer for a quick peck.

“You know, I’m pretty sure I said to close the door, not stand outside mine.”

Clark sprung back at Dick’s voice. Embarrassed was an understatement. Thankfully Bruce jumped in and saved him from whatever was about to come out of his mouth.

“Sorry Little Wing, we were actually on our way to find you.”

“Seems like you got distracted, seeing as Clark can find me from anywhere in the country if he puts his mind to it.” Dick raised a judgemental eyebrow.

Bruce bit back a laugh.

“Right! Well, uh, I was distracted. You’re right. Do you have a second to..?” Clark tried.

“We want to talk to you, before you talk to your brothers if you haven’t already.” Bruce saved him.

“Yeah, that ship sailed as soon as I was out of view of the peep show you were putting on. Now the question is how are you going to explain all of this to everyone? B, we had a twenty-three step plan! This sure as hell isn’t it.” Dick crossed his arms over his chest, eyebrow still raised.

Clark could feel himself start sweating.

Bruce raised an eyebrow back at Dick.

With a grumble he replied, “Yeah, yeah, the best plans are easiest to adapt- I get it. Still, you shouldn’t be allowing all of this while you’re whammied!”

“Exactly, I was the one hit with the spell, not him. I know what I’m doing, Dick. Thank you for being concerned but really, I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t want to.” Bruce spoke with finality, hoping his eldest would let it drop.

Clark looked between the pair, trying to decipher their silent conversation.

Suddenly, Dick broke their eye contact with a groan. “Ugh, fine!” He turned to point at Clark, “You’re lucky I like you.”

Clark’s posture went rigid. “Does it help if I say I’m in love with him? Or is that making it worse?” He could hear the panic in his voice.

Dick visibly relaxed. “You’re scared of me, good. Let’s keep it that way, Big Blue. I’ve got three brothers and we all have access to Kryptonite. That’s not even getting into what Cass’ll do to you. Between her, Steph, Babs, and Duke, us former Robins won’t need to do anything.”

Clark nodded solemnly. With a quick glance at Bruce then back to Dick, he began to speak again. “If I ever hurt Bruce I’d bring myself to your doorstep first. I never want to be responsible for his pain.”

Bruce took a step forward. “Alright, alright, I think we’ve heard plenty out of Clark!” His face was flushed a deep red.

This caused Dick’s glare to return, focusing in on Clark again. “See that? No one else can do that. You better watch yourself.” Dick slung an arm over Bruce’s shoulder, pulling him in for a quick hug.

Clark smiled at the pair hugging for a moment before Dick grabbed him and pulled him in to join them.

“Now that my version of threats is out of the way, I am happy for you both. I’ve only been waiting for this since I was a kid, you know.” Dick laughed between them, giving them a last quick squeeze before stepping back.

“Alright, no more talking about my feelings for him please?” Bruce cut in, hoping Clark didn’t put too much stock into how long Dick had been ‘waiting’ for them to get together.

Dick wiggled his eyebrows at Clark, “Now all of his brooding and feelings repression are your deal.” A smile threatened to overtake his face.

Clark wrapped an arm around Bruce’s waist. “Between getting to see him in full Brucie Wayne mode and this spell sticking us together like glue I think I might be able to get through to him.” Clark shot Dick a playful wink.

“Alright, I’m done with your feelings fest. Just please, for the love of everything in this world and the next: close the damn door!” Dick maneuvered around them to get to his bedroom door. “No one wants to see their dads making out!”

Without giving either of them a chance to respond he closed his door. “See? Just like this!” He called through the thick wood.

Bruce and Clark laughed, still coming down from a bit of the embarrassment. “Alright, I still need to shower and you still need to pack those leftovers. I won’t let Alfred find a reason to shun you- because he’ll try.”

There was a charged pause. “I’m kidding. Alfred loves you.”

Clark felt his shoulders drop in relief. “My family is so much less intimidating than yours.”

“Yeah, but I have to get through Lois, Jimmy, and the league. Not to mention Conner and Jon.” Bruce countered.

“Alright, but Conner and Jon already adore you. Lois already thinks you and I should be dating, Jimmy won’t threaten your life, and the league is partially yours too!” Clark tangled their fingers together and led them through, back to Bruce’s room.

Bruce didn’t say how, comparatively, he did have it like a walk in the park. Tim alone would likely match the intensity of anyone giving Bruce a shovel talk.

“Alright, no more stalling! You have leftovers to pack and I have a shower to take. Meet me back up here?” Bruce paused outside his door, waiting for Clark’s response.

“You bet!” Clark pressed a quick kiss to Bruce’s cheek before floating down the stairs.

“No flying in the house! If Jon can’t you can’t either!” Bruce called after him, laughing.

With a shake of his head Bruce made his way into his room. Alone for the first time since he got out of the car after lunch he felt some of his energy leave him. He was going to sleep supremely well tonight, that was for sure.

He made quick work of his clothes, gathering them to be dry cleaned. For the first time since the spell hit him he felt totally at peace without Clark touching him.

(A very quiet part of his brain thought it would be better with Clark around.)

(Bruce tried to ignore it.)

He had honed the art of a quick but effective shower. He optimized the time it took to do his skin and hair care to ensure he wasn’t wasting anytime when he needed to be done quickly. It was nice to take him time when he had it, but tonight time with Clark was more pressing.

Once Bruce was finished applying his final moisturizer he wrapped himself in a towel and grabbed a second one to start dabbing at his hair.

Out in his bedroom he found Clark sitting on his bed, back against the headboard, idly scrolling on his phone. As soon as the door clicked closed behind Bruce, he saw Clark look up.

“You know, yesterday I was glad to be laying back, so I wouldn’t get caught staring at you dripping water everywhere. Today? Glad I don’t care about being caught.”

Bruce turned to grab shorts out of one of his drawers. “And here I was glad you had your eyes closed, daring to lay shirtless on my bed and laid out like a Greek statue. At least that way I could look all I wanted.” Bruce made his way to the side of the bed and leaned over Clark, mirroring his actions of the previous day.

“I think I said something cheeky about a broken headboard? Care to comment?” Bruce raised an eyebrow in a tease.

“I only promised no property damage yesterday, today I seem to have free reign.” Though his face was bright red, Clark’s delivery was smooth.

“You talk a big game, Mister Kent…” Bruce let his free hand trail from Clark’s neck down to his chest, resting there for a moment, before he abruptly turned to go get dressed.

He once again left the closet door open, just a touch.

Clark dragged a hand over his face, “You’re going to be the death of me, yet.”

From the closet Bruce called out, “Good to know I’m not out of practice!”

The rest of their evening moved slowly. They settled in one of the many common rooms with a big screen TV and watched more Gray Ghost reruns as they talked.

They both wanted to know a few basics, how long, when did you realise, why haven’t you done anything.

(Years, random case but you worked so well with my boys, I didn’t think I had a shot.)

(Years, slowly throughout and then suddenly all at once when I made you laugh so hard your eyes involuntarily shut, I didn’t think I had a shot either.)

Bruce floated the idea of sharing closet space, he wouldn’t ask him to move in so soon (even if the thought was there) but it was a start.

Clark asked what they could tell people, Bruce suggested letting Bruce Wayne court Clark Kent, tell Cat Grant to keep it under lock and key and then wait. A single tip to Vickie Vale and the next gala would have them everywhere- if Clark didn’t mind.

Clark’s smile was all teeth, he explained as much as they knew how to exploit gossip he knew how to churn it out and turn it around. He knew where to put the drop of blood to get the most sharks, as he put it.

The topic of their identities came up, whether it was just a Bruce and Clark thing, or if it was a Batman and Superman thing too.

(Bruce figured they couldn’t hide too much more from the league at this point. Perhaps it would be beneficial to tell them outright, rather than let any kind of rumor mill spiral.)

Before the night was up they were joined by Cass, Damian, Duke, and Tim. All content to quietly surround them in warmth and smiles.

Damian managed to get the coveted spot nestled between them, his short legs draped over where Bruce and Clark had theirs intertwined. Cass lifted Clark’s free arm and draped it over herself, tucking her feet under his thigh and stealing his warmth. Tim laid himself down on Bruce’s lap, leaving space behind him for Bruce to pull Duke into his side, back towards Bruce as he scrolled through his phone.

Over Damian’s head Bruce and Clark made frequent eye contact, relishing in the easy comfort they already had.

They knew it would still be a long road ahead of them, like any relationship. But, for now, they were just glad to have each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They made the mistake of going on a patrol of Gotham together before Zatanna had a chance to remove the spell.

Luckily, nothing bad happened to either of them. It was the aftermath they had to face.

Of course, Superman visiting Gotham drew more attention than normal, of course someone recorded them.

And one more of course for the way Batman just had to kiss him before they got back to the manor.

Now, this had no major effects on Bruce’s life. Not really, anyways.

Instead, it led to Clark getting chewed out by one of his best friends a few days later, when he was able to be apart from Bruce without consequence.

He made it back to his apartment after spending days at Bruce’s, he was gearing up for his week with Jon when Jimmy and Lois came in.

He didn’t think he’d regret giving either of them his spare keys.

Jimmy all but slammed the door open, evidently keyed up about something. Clark made the mistake of assuming it was unrelated to him.

“Hey guys! Woah, what’s got you all bent outta shape?” Clark was smiling, still slowly unpacking. His now five pressed suits were carefully hung, as to not ruin Alfred’s work.

Jimmy looked between Clark and Lois incredulously. “So casual! As if he hasn’t turned himself into a spectacle!”

Lois was trying to tamp down a smile, clearly amused by whatever was about to happen. “Oh, by the way, Conner took Jon to your parents house, they wanted Tim and Damian to join them for Sunday dinner out there.”

Clark smiled at Lois, he figured his boys would be out there, since they weren’t with Lois. Now all he had to figure out was what got Jimmy’s tie in a bunch.

“I still don’t understand how you are being so casual about all of this, Lois!” He threw up his hands, waiting for someone to side with him.

“Can I ask what ‘all of this’ is?” Clark ceased his unpacking, he clearly needed to focus on Jimmy, lest he make things worse.

Jimmy rolled his eyes. “Can I ask, he says. I’m talking about this!” Jimmy quickly turned his phone around to show off a blurry screen cap of Superman pressed against a Gotham rooftop, having the life kissed out of him by Batman.

Well, on screen it just looked like a regular kiss, the civilian had to really zoom in to take it. But Clark knew he was having the life kissed outta him, and that's what counted.

Clark’s blush was fierce as he began speaking, “We got a little carried away, is all. There was a… situation with Batman earlier this week, rather than benching both of us we figured a controlled patrol around Gotham would be fine.” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to tamp his embarrassment.

Jimmy’s eyes widened. “You’re acting so casual about two-timing Bruce Wayne! That man has been trying to seduce you for so long! You’re telling me that you’re going to cheat on him with Batman of all people?!”

Clark was starting to get a much clearer idea of what was going on. And why Lois looked ready to burst a blood vessel trying not to laugh.

“Oh, Jimmy, no. It’s not what it lo-”

“Oh he’s telling me it’s not what it looks like! So you’re telling me this isn’t a picture of you kissing The Batman on a random rooftop, mere days after you and Bruce Wayne were publicly tied together?!”

“Well, yes. You’re right, it's exactly what it looks like- but that's not the full story! I’m not a cheater, I promise!”

“If you made that poor, obsessed with you, man agree to a partially open relationship so you could galavant off with Batman I’ll track both of them down myself and tell them everything!” Jimmy was speaking quickly, almost too quickly for Clark to keep up.

He looked to Lois for help, who had apparently figured out the situation already.

(It probably helped that Kon was dating Tim, that was a major beacon- seeing as he used to talk about Red Robin nearly as much as Tim, before they got together.)

(It probably also helped that her son’s best friend was, inexplicably, the son of a billionaire from Gotham, it likely helped put the picture together pretty quick, since she knew what to look for.)

Clark slowly approached Jimmy, almost as if he was a stray animal. “Jimmy, I need you to really listen to me. It’s not possible for me to cheat on Bruce with Batman. Yeah?” He gave Jimmy an imploring look, willing him to understand.

“If you’re trying to make some kind of commentary about the gossip surrounding him then- ooohhh.” Jimmy cut himself off. Gears turning.

Clark nodded, hoping this revelation didn’t take too long.

There was a tense moment of silence.

“I take back my two-timing comment. I have since gained a bit more knowledge and would like to formally apologise.”

Clark and Lois couldn’t help laughing.

“To be fair to you, I hadn’t considered what it might look like to you guys.” Clark offered.

“To be even more fair, I was more pissed than Jimmy was until I connected the dots. He does a really good job keeping people off his tail.” Lois finally stepped forward and fully joined the conversation, now that she didn’t have to try and hold back laughter.

“Yeah, there wasn’t a single moment that I thought this could be the case. Wait- are you sure it’s okay that we know?! I’m not going to have Batman knocking on my door for answers or anything, right?”

Clark laughed again. “Of course it’s okay, I would’ve resorted to groveling for forgiveness for cheating or admitted to an open relationship before I told you his identity if that's what he wanted.” Clark’s face flared red, “No, we talked about it and, well, he said that he knew to be a part of my life in the long run he would have to get through you two, and he didn’t want to do that with secrets.”

Jimmy looked taken aback. “That’s actually, like, really sweet. Trying to conflate that with both Bruce Wayne and Batman is… interesting.”

“Yeah, it’ll be a while before I really let the thought of them being the same person sink in… oh my god! That means he knew what he was doing with the tie!” Lois pointed at Clark, connecting dots she had forgotten were even there.

“There’s going to be a lot more where that came from, come on, why don’t we order food and I’ll tell y’all what happened?” Clark offered, hoping he could get ahead of some of the worse realizations on their part.

He told them… everything, really.

The magic, the consequence, the lunch, the get together, everything he thought was not only relevant but interesting- the way he knew they liked.

It was really nice to be able to gush about Bruce, disguised as a way to tell them the situation.

If their faces were any indication, it wasn’t disguised well.

They all let themselves get wrapped up in talking and totally forgot about ordering food. So, when there was a knock on Clark’s door a little over an hour later, they weren’t expecting anything.

Clark heard the car door close a few minutes prior and had an idea who to expect. Lois and Jimmy looked to him for an explanation. He smiled and shrugged, leaving them to wonder as he opened the door.

Clark leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms, “You’re a long way from Gotham.”

“Thirty minutes with the way I drive, definitely close enough if it’s you on the other side of the bridge.” Bruce lifted his hands, showing off two large and very full bags of take out. “You had fancy coffee this morning, but I also figured you might have some guests. I was actually just planning to drop this, and your charger- which you left at mine- off.”

Clark glanced over his shoulder at Jimmy and Lois. Who were both very badly pretending to not be listening and very invested. Lois stage whispered, “Invite him in, Kent!”

“You came all that way, why don’t you join us? You can actually get to know Lois and Jimmy.” Clark smiled warmly, knowing full well that Bruce probably did just plan to drop the stuff and leave, even though Clark could have flown to the manor and back in less time.

He narrowed his eyes, calculating for a moment, deciphering whether the offer was sheer politeness or genuine.

Before he could get too far into a thought spiral Clark cocked his head to the side and asked him, “Did you know I’m two-timing you with Batman? I found that out today.”

Bruce’s answering smirk was all he needed. “Oh, really? Well, he a good kisser?”

Clark moved to the side to let Bruce in, “I’d say so, doesn't hold a candle to you, though.” Clark winked.

Jimmy fake gagged from the table. “Now that I know Clark isn’t cheating, this is almost worse.”

Bruce seemed to come back to himself then, remembering there were two other people with them. “Apologies, I seem to have gotten… distracted,” His gaze flicked over to Clark and back.

“All is forgiven, you brought food!” Lois jumped in, wanting to prevent another ‘distraction.’

Bruce seemed to remember the food in his hands at that and made his way to the table, setting the bags down.

Clark looked him up and down, “You look awful casual, what’s the occasion?”

Bruce focused on unpacking the bags, failing to hide his blush. “No occasion. Just been wanting to…” He trailed off, unsure of what to say in the face of Jimmy and Lois.

Jimmy, already three forkfulls deep into the first container, spoke up. “Don’t stop on our account, we’ve all been around for Lois’ disastrous adventures into the dating scene. Anything you’ve got will be a breath of fresh air, Mister sends flowers to his desk for no reason.”

“Not to be confused with Mister Valentine’s Day is a scam.” Lois threw out, reaching for a bag of spring rolls.

Bruce cocked his head to the side, “Valentine’s Day is a scam. But that's kind of the whole point, no? You say screw it and give into corporate greed to have an excuse to celebrate with your partner?”

Jimmy and Lois looked at him in awe. Clark’s smile was unmatched.

“Did I say something wrong?” Bruce’s eyebrows furrowed, unsure what to do with their reactions.

“Not even close, darling.” Clark patted his hand before grabbing a container of noodles and passing it to him.

Bruce took it without thinking, grabbing a fork to start eating with.

“No, we just thought it was crazy that barely a week ago Clark said almost the exact same thing. Looks like we have to up our standards, Lois.” Jimmy smiled into his container, already filing away the little things to tease Clark over.

The four let an easy silence settle over them as they began to eat, each of them making their way through a few different containers at a time.

Lois broke the silence a few minutes (and spring rolls) later. “So, Batman, huh?”

Bruce looked up from his pint of fried rice, “Oh him? Yeah, seems like I got lucky with Clark here, he puts up with two forms of my bullshit.” His smirk said all they needed to know.

“And you’re not… upset we know?” Jimmy ventured, still slightly worried about an after-hours visit from a vigilante.

Bruce glanced at Clark, who offered him an encouraging nod. “You two are the only ones I would consider trusting this information to, with how much Clark trusts you. If I didn’t want you to know, you wouldn’t.”

Jimmy and Lois relaxed, hearing it from Clark was one thing, but Bruce himself? There was no better reassurance.

After a beat, Bruce spoke up again. “Alright, ask away.” He let out an exaggerated sigh paired with his usual media ready smile.

The table lit up with varying levels of excitement, all preparing for the best off-the-record exclusive at their disposal.

Over the course of the rest of their dinner it was nothing but rapid fire questions and answers, ranging from what really happened the time Bruce claimed he was in a skiing accident and sprained his ankle to how many of his kids had picked up vigilantism.

(The skiing accident was covering up an injury from Mr. Freeze, he really did slip on ice. He also reluctantly confirmed that all of his children, legal or otherwise, had somehow gotten into the vigilante game, much to his chagrin.)

They all went back and forth for a while, trading stories and answering questions. Bruce was surprised to find himself comfortable amidst the three reporters. He figured at the very least he would have some catching up to do against their years of friendship with each other.

He was grateful it seemed natural.

And, if the hand rubbing appreciative circles onto his thigh was to be believed, Clark was too.

Once their well of questions managed to run dry Bruce let himself fade into the background. He was content seeing Clark in his element and being pulled along for the ride, his mind drifting to the few days prior that they were subjected to Zatanna’s prodding.

On day five of the spell, Bruce found himself in the Batcave, bare legs tangled with Clark’s as they watched security footage from throughout Gotham. Even if going out on patrol themselves wasn’t the best idea, this way he could at least feel involved.

They were expecting some kind of news from Zatanna that night, even if she wasn’t quite ready to remove the spell she had already planned to let them know by the five day mark. So neither of them were surprised when their communicators chimed with the nonemergency tone.

Bruce got to his first, “Seems like she’s right on schedule. Zatanna thinks she can have us at the Watchtower in two days for spell removal. Which then means you won’t have to overly worry about me anymore.” Bruce’s smile told Clark he really didn’t mind it all that much.

“Maybe we can head out for a patrol tomorrow then? I know you’re itching to get out of the cave for a night.” Clark let his left hand graze Bruce’s leg, enjoying the tensing muscle there.

“Gods I hope so, I feel so bad making Dick and Jay pick up so much slack in Gotham. At least Tim and Kon seem to be having a good time.” Bruce’s smile widened at the mention of his kids.

“I secretly think Dick and Jason like that you asked for help. You know how often they get on your case about doing too much too often. Plus this way they get to spend time with Damian without making it obvious that they want to.”

Clark reading his kids like open books made Bruce’s heart swell. He couldn’t wait until the spell was removed and he could show his affection without it being construed as spell induced.

Two days later, after the ‘Batman nearly swallowed Superman whole on a random rooftop in Gotham’ thing, they were at the Watchtower. Waiting on Zatanna’s prognosis.

She was working the same magic she used for the original check-up, just to ensure nothing had gone horribly wrong in the time she hadn’t seen Batman.

Which, in their line of work, was very possible.

Zatanna was humming occasionally, indicating… something. Bruce and Clark weren’t sure what, but definitely something.

“Okay, this may sound strange. Did anything… change while you were under the spell? Anything at all?”

Bruce and Clark looked at each other, communicating. They hadn’t gotten around to telling the league anything yet, seeing as this was the first time they had even been in the tower since Bruce had gotten hit in the first place.

“Elaborate. What kinds of changes are you referring to?” Bruce broke the silence, deciding he would try and parse through her question before offering up any incriminating answers.

They hadn’t even been dating a week. There had hardly been a ‘what are we?’ conversation, no time for the details to share at this point.

Zatanna squinted at Bruce, trying to decipher how much she should say. “Well, you and I had a conversation when you were originally hit with the spell. Anything along those same lines, anything you two think might be relevant.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “I appreciate your discretion, Zatanna. But, to answer your question, yes. He knows about that… thing we spoke about.”

Clark’s smile grew devious.

“Are you telling me that you had to tell Zatanna you had feelings for me when this whole thing started?”

“Smug doesn’t become you.”

“But apparently being in love becomes you.” Clark’s eyes shone with mischief.

Bruce felt a smirk, more befitting of Brucie than Batman, settle onto his face. “You’re lucky that smart mouth gets you out of as much trouble as it gets you in. Perhaps I need a reminder as to how.”

Zatanna cleared her throat.

“Well, in other news, I have good things to report.”

Bruce and Clark snapped their heads toward her, suddenly reminded of her presence with them.

Bruce managed to gather his wits enough to respond first. “What did you find?”

Zatanna couldn’t help the teasing smile on her face. “Well, if it’s any consolation, Superman’s smart mouth might have all but deactivated the spell.”

Bruce was glad his cowl covered the dusting of blush high on his cheeks. “Which means?”

Clark wasn’t nearly as lucky. His entire face, redness and all, was on full display. “B, I think she’s telling us our… relations broke the curse.”

“Sweetness, if you ever call it ‘relations’ again, you won’t be having any more relations with me.” Though Bruce’s eyes were covered, Clark could tell he was rolling them.

“Pardon me for not wanting to get into details with Zatanna here, just trying to remove the spell.” Clark looked sheepish. Making Superman the picture of midwestern mortification.

“Yes, speaking of. Deactivated spell?” Bruce quickly reentered Batman Mode, all at once remembering he still had magic coursing through him.

“Less deactivating and more so making dormant? Basically, the spell is resting in the same state I observed when you were in physical contact. So, you shouldn’t have been feeling any effects from the spell after your… relations.” She had to stifle a giggle.

Bruce tilted his head slightly. “That does make sense, my original theory was that the contact was more effective with a genuine romantic intent behind it- I just didn’t have enough data to make an actual guess.”

Clark nodded before his eyes widened, like he had just realised something. “So, does that mean all of the spell's properties were neutralised? In its dormant state I mean.”

Zatanna began nodding, “Yes, that’s correct. The spell would have had no effect on Batman after your first kiss, at my guess. Based on what Sir Surreal seemed to be spouting, a ‘true love’s kiss’ would have likely been enough.” She lowered her hands from the air quotes.

Clark smiled a Cheshire grin. “Well, either way, by the time we went out on patrol yesterday there should have been no ill effects lingering from the magic…” Clark began slowly inching toward Bruce in his chair.

Bruce paled, he had chalked up his intense and innate need to kiss Clark while out on patrol to the fact that he was whammied. No, it seemed it was much worse. Clark simply broke through his meticulous and strategic self-restraint and control.

Horrifying.

Even worse, now Clark knew the kind of effect he had. The mortifying ordeal of being known, Alfred liked to tease.

An ordeal it was.

“Well, with all of that settled. Should you start going about removing the spell from him now?” Clark’s smile was bright as he spoke to Zatanna.

Bruce felt tension drop off his shoulders. He could take whatever teasing Clark had in store for him in private, there was already far too much of his psyche on display with Zatanna in the room.

“Well, that also brings good news. With the spell being dormant it will be a lot easier to reverse. No where near the hours I thought it was going to take. I’d say maybe twenty minutes at most now.” She shifted her focus back to Bruce.

Bruce nodded his assent and watched her get to work.

It seemed like she was untying a knot. Pulling at threads of magic piece by piece until it lifted and dissipated away.

Bruce could feel the magic being stripped away. After his week being surrounded, it fell into the background of his mind scape. But here, having Zatanna pulling and prodding he could feel it. He had felt very slightly yet perpetually sticky all week, and it was immediately clear when it was beginning to be removed.

He got comfortable. If Bruce would have to stay as still as possible for twenty minutes, he might as well rest his feet in Clark’s lap and enjoy it.

Clark caught him by the ankle of his boots before running his hands up Bruce’s calf. He could feel the tense muscle there as he slowly massaged circles into the back of it.

Silence surrounded the trio as Zatanna worked, Bruce felt content enough to let his eyes drift shut and let the room settle around him.

By Bruce’s estimation Zatanna was about half-way through when she spoke up. “I should check you over too, Superman. Just in case. I already checked over Diana- her and I spent some time in Themyscria the day before last and she’s fine.” Her focus didn’t stray from Bruce.

Clark nodded, “Alright, why not? Whatever you need to do.” He patted the calf he had been massaging and moved to the other.

“I had a theory about that as well.” Bruce mumbled, quieter than expected.

Clark tilted his head and hummed.

Bruce took a deep breath in and stretched. “The way you freaked out when I worked late, the hesitation with the hand holding. It seemed to me like the proximity might have affected you in some way.” His eyes were still closed.

But even without seeing it, he could guess the way Clark would go red and freeze up, just for a moment, before letting himself relax.

“It has been known for some spells to cause adverse side effects via proximity.” Zatanna paused, eyebrows furrowed as she encountered a particularly tricky bit of magic. “It very well could have heightened your sensitivity to things regarding Batman.”

Clark nodded. “I can buy that, I was acting weird- I just thought I was losing the plot a little having Brucie Wayne at my job over lunch then radio silence.”

Bruce huffed out a laugh. “Losing the plot? Yes. Affected by magic? Maybe.”

Clark gave the underside of his leg a light pinch, hardly enough to feel, let alone hurt.

“The Man of Steel, preying on a poor, innocent, defenseless, vulnerable, human. Woe is me.” He slowly but dramatically brought a hand to his forehead.

“Other than human, you are none of those things. And with the crud floating around Gotham you could convince me of a nonhuman-ness.” Still he soothed the spot he pinched with gentle circles.

Zatanna couldn’t help her smile and laugh.

The three once again let the silence settle over them, waiting for Zatanna to finish. Bruce could feel the threads of magic she was pulling on slowly lessen, it felt nice.

He let his eyes blink open, still covered by the cowl, when he felt nearly all the magic off of him. Clark looked over and smiled at him.

His returning smile was small but meaningful. He was glad Clark was here with him through all of this, he’ll be even more so when they aren’t fearing for his safety if Clark’s not.

With a deep breath out, as if she had been holding it, Zatanna leaned back. “Alright all finished. Don’t get hit by spells anymore.” Without missing a beat she turned her attention to Clark to begin checking him over.

Bruce sat up, finally picking his feet up off of Clark’s lap, and stretched. “Didn’t plan on it. Thank you for your help, Zatanna.”

She absentmindedly nodded, hardly paying him any attention. “Yeah, yeah, thank me by making it true.”

“So? Did I get whammied via osmosis?” Clark joked.

“If you’re asking me if you’re also affected by the magic casted on Batman, the answer is yes.” Zatanna laughed, tracing back all the things in her life that could have possibly led her here.

“Let’s hope this reversal process is smoother, then.” Clark’s never ending optimism somehow gave Zatanna the extra push she needed to get started.

Thankfully, the work went quick. All in all, she spent much less time unweaving magic than she had expected when the day began.

A few short minutes later and they were all free to go. “Alright, all done. No more fighting magic with fists for at least a month, deal?”

Bruce and Clark looked at her blankly and with a raised eyebrow, respectively.

“No takers? Damn.” Her laugh was infectious.

“Well, with that I will be taking my leave. Things to do, places to be- you know the drill.” Zatanna stood and stretched her back, enjoying the small yet satisfying pops.

The pair saw her off, following in the zeta tubes just a few minutes behind.

It had been nearly a month since the spell had been removed.

Bruce couldn’t be happier.

Clark and Jon spent plenty of time at the manor, while also leaving time for the two of them to bond and relax- as well as train. With Clark around, Dick seemed to linger a bit more on the days their patrols went long and the trip back to his apartment seemed pointless.

Jason, of all his kids, seemed to take to their relationship the best.

He started with the expected shovel talk, kryptonite bullets, knew where Clark slept, and things of the like. But after that first day, it was as if Clark had always been there.

Bruce considered that, yeah he kind of had always been there.

No one blinked an eye when he joined them for breakfast. No one questioned Bruce dressing up and heading out to Metropolis. No one thought twice about the quick stolen kisses when they thought no one was paying them any mind.

Tim offered him a bright smile and pat on the back. “You’re not allowed to get married first, Kon and I will not be subjected to any step-bro jokes because he’s kind of Clark’s kid and we got together first.”

Bruce couldn’t help his scoff. “He’s more like Clark’s younger brother- that's what you can tell people if they ask. Your siblings on the other hand… there’s no saying what Dick and Jay will get up to.”

There was a beat of quiet and shared smiles. “Really though, B, I’m happy for you.”

Dick, for all of his posturing when he found them together, seemed to enjoy their shared happiness.

He also used his pull with Clark to get anything he wanted out of the two of them- as if Bruce would ever deny his kids anything.

“Clark said we should go to that nice new restaurant in Metropolis tonight with everyone! Your treat of course.” His smirk told Bruce exactly how they all came to that decision.

“Oh, Clark said this, did he?” His smile broke through whatever intimidation he pretended to maintain around them.

With a smug nod Dick continued, “Yep! And for doubting me I think that means we order one of each of the desserts on the menu to try.”

“With the amount of us I think two of each might be in order…” Bruce loved seeing his kids excited. He would also take any excuse for a full family dinner.

“Father, Superman agrees that Jon and I should have access to the Batmobile.” Damian tried, a last ditch attempt at getting access to the car early.

“Oh really? How interesting after I just spoke to him about teaching you both to drive next year… I’ll have to ask him if he changed his mind…” Bruce rose an eyebrow at his youngest, knowing he definitely hadn’t run anything past Clark.

Damian’s eyes widened, Bruce had thus far stuck to the Batmobile driving age starting at sixteen, starting to learn to drive at fourteen was a huge upgrade.

“Right, yes of course. I must have misspoken, next year was what we’re expecting.” Damian quickly turned, likely to go find Jon and relay the update.

Bruce didn’t mention that they wouldn’t be learning in the Batmobile, but they would burn that bridge when they got to it.

After she heard the news, Barbara sighed and had to ask. “Does he need the indestructible comm type? Or will the standard suffice.” Her smile gave her away.

Bruce shrugged, feigning casualty. “He has his league communicator… he doesn’t need an additional one.”

Barbara raised an eyebrow at him.

“You get first dibs on new Wayne Tech?” Bruce offered.

“I get that anyways, old man.” Her teasing smirk let Bruce know Clark would have his own batcomm by the end of the month.

They shared smiles. “I’m glad he makes you happy.”

Bruce glanced downward, still unsure how to accept that particular compliment. “I am too. Plus, he knows you all come first.”

She didn’t miss the mischief in his eyes.

For Cass, it was truly as if nothing had changed.

She went to Clark when she couldn’t be bothered to open jars or lift anything heavy, went to Bruce for nearly anything else.

But Bruce could see it in her smiles. In the way she made a more concentrated effort in talking to Clark.

(Who was making an effort to get better at signing, so he didn’t constantly have to look to the other bats for translation.)

“He’s good to you.” It wasn’t a question.

Bruce pulled her in by the shoulders for a quick hug. “Yeah, he is.”

Cass smiled. “Good, two happy dads is better than one.” The tease was evident in her eyes.

Bruce playfully squeezed her shoulder, “You all act as if there aren’t enough of us in this house already.”

“You like when the house is full, we can all tell. We just say it more often than you do.” Her tone left no room for argument.

“You got me there, kid.”

(She didn’t complain about the nickname. None of them really did.)

With Duke it was more subtle.

It was jokes about being glad to have another day-shifter. Going to Clark for advice when Bruce wasn’t available. Asking Clark for help with his powers.

It warmed Bruce’s heart.

He was a little… intimidated at the prospect of adding Clark to this dynamic.

There were a lot of people and a lot of personalities to contend with. He knew Clark would thrive… if the kids gave him the chance.

Duke was quick to break that barrier, as if it wasn’t there in the first place.

“You know, you would think seeing him with bedhead and crooked glasses would mess with his image but it really doesn’t.” He was standing behind Bruce in his office, looking at the photo of Superman saving a school bus from crashing. Bruce had the news article pulled up on his computer.

“It almost adds to it, dontcha think?” This he addressed to Bruce.

Bruce laughs, “Something like that, makes the picture a bit more complete I think.”

“Oh ew, don't get sappy on me- it’s too early in the day for that.”

Bruce laughed, “It’s four thirty, how is it too early?”

Duke laughed with him, “I’m still awake- therefore it’s too early.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow at him and shook his head fondly, lots of personalities indeed.

Steph took to him like a cat to a patch of sun.

Or, a girl with poor circulation to the walking heater that was Clark Kent.

“You know, B, I totally get it. He’e like a walking blanket.” She said, while filing her nails in the cave.

Bruce, who had to sit still in meetings all day, was working out. “Clark?” He huffed out between reps.

“Duh. Anyways, I sat next to him during one of the movie nights we’ve had recently and he nearly put me to sleep! So, I get it.”

Bruce reracked his barbell and sat up to look at her, a teasing smile on his face. “Do you think I’m with him to steal his warmth?”

She raised an eyebrow back at him, grin wide. “Well, seeing as you’ve had your choice between Selina Kyle, Talia Al Ghul, and Diana Prince- I figured there has to be something that sets him apart.”

Bruce let out a laugh. “Funny that you think I had my choice in any of those matters- even if I was in love with any of them now, they all know the best ways to kill a man.”

Steph let out an exaggerated dreamy sigh, “Like Cass…”

Bruce shook his head and rolled his eyes, an action seeped in fondness. “If this was an excuse to gush about my daughter, here’s me telling you there’s no need for excuses.” He began making his way back down on the bench to get back to his work out.

“Noted! Next time I’ll lead with how much I want to talk about Cass.”

Bruce couldn’t stop his huff of laughter.

Jason was the wild card to Bruce. The shovel talk was mildly expected, the kryptonite threats were anticipated.

But the bonding? That was only one of the two options in Bruce’s fifty fifty.

(The other was… unimportant. He liked Clark and that was what mattered.)

All it took was one look at the books slowly accumulating on Clark’s side of the bed. His most common rereads.

Specifically the well worn copy of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice as well as Machiavelli’s The Prince.

“I didn’t know your boyfriend had taste, B.” Jason was leaned against the doorway to Bruce’s room, barefoot and in pajamas.

“Thanks, Jay, really feeling the love there.” Bruce joked, not knowing what he was referring to without a bit more context.

“Oh shut up, I meant in books.” He gestured to the side table that held a small stack of books.

“Machiavelli and Jane Austen caught your eye? You should talk to him about them. Apparently his most recent reread of The Prince had him making a connection he previously missed. He started telling me about it but we got pulled away.” Bruce busied himself with restacking the books in question, to give his hands something to do.

“Oh, I already did. Caught him after breakfast a few days ago. He actually knows how to hold intelligent conversation, upgrade for you.” Jason teased, referring to the many tabloid ‘relationships’ Bruce got into during Jason’s Robin days.

Bruce slowly turned his head towards his second son. “Hang on a minute, Jaybird. Is this you giving him your approval?” Bruce raised a single eyebrow and let a grin settle on his face.

“Oh don’t get all excited now, old man, you weren’t waiting on my approval for shit.” He used his shoulder to push off the door frame and made his way into Bruce’s room.

Bruce bumped his shoulder against Jason’s once he sat down on the bed next to him. “I kind of was, little bird. Everyone else has had a conversation like this with me already.”

Jason rolled his eyes, “I know I’ve told you to stop with the little bird- make sure Clark doesn’t pick that up either. I heard him call Dick little wing already.” He couldn’t stifle his small laugh.

“Eh, he’s still a bit scared of you, he won’t pick up any nicknames… yet. No promises.”

“He should be scared of me, so good.” He didn’t comment on the nickname portion. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

Bruce let the quiet surround them. Distant noises of the rest of their family in various places around the house keeping them occupied.

He swung an arm around Jason’s shoulders, pulling him in for something of a hug.

When Jason leaned further in, Bruce couldn’t do anything but smile and pull him closer.

“Hey darling, how was your day?” Clark greeted, a few hours after Bruce’s conversation with Jason.

“Fantastic, how was yours?” Bruce’s smile was infectious. He leaned back in his office chair, the picture of comfort.

“Good, better now though. What’s got you all smiley?” Clark asked, as if his expression didn’t mirror Bruce’s.

“Oh nothing, just happy with how everything is going.”

Clark assumed that meant with him and the kids, their relationship had been going very well thus far.

He didn’t pry. “Well that's good to hear.” His smile widened. “Now, I believe we promised Dick a very fancy family dinner in Metropolis, how long until everyone is ready, you think?”

Bruce heard the commotion of their front room, “I’d say we’re the last to be there, sweetness. We shouldn’t keep them waiting.” Bruce stood with a wink and walked out of his office, knowing Clark would be watching him leave.

“Oh that’s not fair and you know it.” He called after Bruce, rushing to catch up with him.

Bruce pressed a kiss to Clark’s mouth, hoping to sate him for the time being. “Come on, they’re waiting.” He pushed Clark to walk ahead of him.

As he saw his patchwork family all standing around, laughing and joking he couldn’t help his smile.

Even more so when they all immediately welcomed Clark into the mix, without missing a beat.

“You’ve done well, sir.” Alfred spoke lowly, appearing at Bruce’s side.

Bruce smiled, silently agreeing with him.

Done well he had.

Maybe he would have to cut magic users some slack. After all, that's how he got here.

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