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A feeling of coldness washed over Superman as he flew into Gotham. It wasn’t really a temperature coldness but the one that came with the feeling that something bad was going to happen; though in Gotham’s case, it was more a knowing that something was going to happen. It was one of the rare times that Batman had requested Superman’s help with a case. With the little information he had about the situation, Superman’s mind raced with possibilities of what was waiting for him.
Superman quickly approached the pair’s agreed meeting point, the roof of a rather tall building on the outskirts of the city. It didn’t matter that Superman was early; Batman was already there, waiting in the shadows. The familiar heartbeat remained even as he stepped out of the shadows into view.
“Hey, Batman!” Superman wasn’t sure why the feeling of coldness had left him and been replaced with a sudden excitement.
“Superman.” Batman’s voice was as stable as his heart when he spoke. Superman turned to face the other.
“So, what’s the plan for tonight?”
“I got a tip I need to follow up on, I need you to use your x-ray vision on some shipping containers.”
“Aye aye, Captain!” Superman raised his hand, which was an exaggerated salute, earning an unamused look from the other man. Wordlessly, Batman leapt off the roof and began grappling around the city; Superman sighed and followed the other.
The older of the two came to a sudden stop on the roof of another building tucked away with a view overlooking the city’s dock. Perched near the edge, Batman gave a more detailed explanation of the mission; only now including the fact that the shipments were coming from Metropolis’ very own Luthorcorp.
“Lex Luthor?” Superman let the surprise seep into his voice; he never had been one to suppress his emotions.
“Yes, I just said that. Can you use your X-ray vision?” Superman didn’t need to be told twice; looking into the containers with his new vision didn’t prove much help, as whatever was being held was covered in lead.
“Whatever's in there must be important or illegal; it’s all lined in lead, I can’t see anything.” Superman turned to the others with a sorry expression.
“Anyone guarding the area?” At Batman's question, he turned back and scanned the general vicinity. After his second scan, Superman concluded there were seven people guarding the area, all carrying weapons on their persons.
“I count seven, all carrying weapons.” The Batman sat on this information before replying with a hum.
“Should be easy enough.” As he finished his sentence, Batman once again effortlessly leapt from the building. Once again, Superman followed.
The Man of Steel waited for Batman to deploy his smoke bombs before making his move on the guards. Opting for a more civilised method to detain them, using his superspeed to tie them all up, instead of whatever the Batman was occupying himself doing. Once all seven of the guards were out of the way, the pair made their way to one of the containers. Superman used his laser vision to melt the lock off the door, opening the door; they both entered. At first glance, it looked empty. Was this just a decoy? The question was short-lived as Batman opened the nearly impossible-to-see crates. The effect was instant, Superman knew before his eyes made contact with the contents that it would be emitting a green glow.
“Step back, Superman.”
Even in his state and subdued powers, he should’ve seen or heard the guard walking into the crate. He should’ve stopped him from raising his gun. Should’ve done something. The sound of the bullet ricocheted off the metal walls, making direct contact with Batman’s shoulder. Batman’s response was instant; he reached into his utility belt and pulled out a single batarang, swiftly sending it into the guard's neck.
“Br- Batman!”
“It’s fine. Superman felt an immediate guilt at missing the eighth guard. How did I miss them? Distracted by his guilt, Superman missed whatever Batman was saying over his comms, only picking up on the relay of their current location.
“Oracle will sort this out. We need to leave.” Batman’s sudden change of direction pulled him from his thoughts.
Still weak from the effects of kryptonite, it took a few minutes after leaving the location for him to be able to fly again.
“Hold on.”
“I can get myself back to the manor fine.”
“You literally are actively bleeding out.”
“Like I said before, it’s fine.” Batman persisted in trying to convince Superman that it was fine; it fell on deaf ears.
“Bruce. Hold on.” The use of his real name silenced him; accepting defeat, he stepped forward and held onto the other. Clark immediately shot into the air in the direction of the manor. Clark entered the Batcave through one of the many secret entrances.
“Take the suit off, I want to see your shoulder,” Clark spoke as he placed Bruce down. Leaving the other to retrieve the medical supplies needed, Clark returned to find the other already shirtless and sitting faced away from him. Clark pulled a chair up behind the other and began to inspect the wound.
“Okay, it doesn’t look too bad.”
“I told you it was fine.” Bruce huffed.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would assume you were the invincible one.” Bruce let out a small laugh at this, though Clark could hear the small suck in of breath at the end. Clark lifted the antiseptic to the wound; it wasn’t as bad as he had originally thought it to be. The wound consisted of a bullet graze over the man’s deltoids and was decently deep. Alfred is definitely grounding him for the week. The conversation flowed between the two men as Clark continued cleaning the other's wound. After meticulously cleaning it, not wanting to risk infection, Clark placed a bandage covering the width of the wound.
“All done.” Once he had finished, instead of pulling back immediately, he let his hands water and trace over the litter of scars covering Bruce’s back. Clark wasn’t sure why he was doing it; he’d seen the scares a million times before he’d even treated some of them. Bruce turned to face Clark completely, and the tension felt like it could be sliced in half by a knife.
“Clark.” Bruce’s voice sounded quiet and breathless, though it didn’t matter to Clark since he was focused on the other’s raised heartbeat. That’s a first. Clark’s eyes dipped to the other's lips as he spoke. He wanted nothing more than to lean in and kiss him. Oh. That’s also a first. Is it really, though? The thought didn’t faze Clark too much; he’d always known he wasn’t completely straight, and he was not about to deny how attractive the other man was; it would be factually wrong to even think about that. Like he could hear Clark’s racing thoughts, Bruce brought his hand down to Clark's and lifted it so the other was now cupping his jaw. They both stared into each other's eyes, waiting for the other to make the first proper move. Clark took the opportunity; he began to lean, his lips ghosting the others.
The sound of a third person entering the cave caused the pair to jump apart; the sudden movement caused Bruce to wince in pain.
“Are you okay, Bruce? Babs said something went wrong-” Dicks sentence was cut short as he stared between the two men.
“Dick, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you in Blüdhaven?” To an untrained ear, Bruce’s voice sounded like it was completely normal, though Clark could still hear the slight breathiness to it.
“What, can't come in to see my old man anymore?” Clark hadn’t felt out of place in the cave or even the manor at that for years, except for now; he was feeling extremely out of place. “So is everything okay?” Dick asked again.
“Yes, everything is fine, it was just a simple bullet graze to the shoulder,” Bruce answered.
“Right, uhm. I should get going.” Clark looked around as if he had brought something of his own to take home.”
“Are you not going to stay and eat anything?” Dick questioned.
“No, I’ve got to uhmmm yeah I have to do something. Bye.” Clark had never flown out of somewhere so fast. Dick stayed still, eyes going between Bruce and when Clark had just stood.
“Right...” Dick mumbled, left in a state of confusion at Clark’s flustered state.
꩜꩜
Arriving at his Metropolis apartment, Clark’s mind was racing. Okay, so that happened. Well, nearly happened. As Clark’s thoughts race, never once did he have a thought of regret at what nearly happened; if anything, he regretted not being quicker and making the move first before the pair were interrupted.
The water was hot when Clark stepped into the shower, and he quickly washed the dirt and sweat off his skin from the mission. He then moved on to washing his hair, choosing to take his time at this part of his routine. Deciding he had been in there for an unreasonably long time, Clark stepped out and began the motions of getting dressed and going to bed.
The noise of a constant beeping pulled Clark from his sleep, causing him to promptly raise his hand and smack down the top of the button to silence it. Noticing the time of the clock was what really woke him up, 8:28 am?! How am I always late? I don’t even need sleep! Clark quickly used his superspeed to get ready for the day.
It was a miracle how Clark was only 10 minutes late; his luck ran short as the first person he saw was Perry.
“You’re late again, Kent.” Perry wore an unamused expression, unfortunately, used to his lateness.
“Sorry, Perry,” Clark replied with a sheepish smile. It wasn’t like he tried to be late; it just happened. Clark placed his things down and looked back at Lois’ desk. Currently, she was covering a story in Nepal and wouldn’t be back until the week’s end. I have so much to fill her in on.
As lunch rolled around, Clark finished the article he was working on; the time on his watch showed 1:27 pm. Perfect time for lunch. Just as Clark finished collecting his things, his phone buzzed with a message. The message read “Can we talk?” was from no other than Bruce. Clark’s first reaction was a small smile, then he turned to panic at the realisation that maybe Bruce thought it was a mistake, leaving his thoughts to race again.
The rest of the day dragged on for what seemed like forever, but once it ended, Clark was out those doors the first opportunity he had. In his panic, he was nearly tempted to fly home or use his superspeed, but ultimately decided against it.
“Clark.” The voice spoke as soon as he’d closed the door behind himself. Looking up, Clark saw Bruce sitting on his couch. He didn’t bother to ask how he got in; he knew it was either the window or the key he’d given him ages ago in case of emergency. Judging by his outfit, which consisted of Bruce’s ‘casual’ suit, it was by the key.
“Bruce.” Clark walked further into his apartment and placed his belongings down on the dining room table; he then leaned on the door frame between the two rooms. Bruce stood.
“I am going to speak, please don’t interrupt me.” Bruce’s voice was small; Clark knew how hard it was for him to properly communicate his feelings.
“Okay.”
“Right, okay, uhm. Ever since I’ve known you, even before we revealed our civilian identities, I’ve liked you. And I know I shouldn’t because you're not just my colleague, you're also my best friend, but every time I tried to bury it down even deeper, it just came back ten times worse; I mean, how could it not, you're you. I understand if you no longer want to associate with me because of this or if you’re uncomfortable-”
“Bruce.” By the end of his dialogue, Bruce’s speed had picked up out of nervousness. When Bruce looked up, he was met with Clark, who was now much closer than he was before, having moved closer when he was speaking. “Are you serious?”
“I’m sorry, this was a mistake.” Bruce immediately tried to leave, but Clark stopped him.
“Bruce, please, are you being serious?”
“Yes.” All it took to let out the breath he didn’t even realise he was holding was that one word.
“Can I kiss you?” The look on Bruce’s face was one of complete shock. Does he really think I wouldn’t reciprocate? “Bruce, I think I have been waiting for you to say that for years, God.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” The pair met each other halfway, lips collapsing together. I could've been doing this for years. The pair stayed there as they kissed, occasionally deepening it. Pulling away, Bruce smiled at Clark and intertwined their hands, pulling them in the direction of Clark’s room.