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Bruce released a small sigh as he let his head fall onto Clark’s shoulder. They were seated next to each other on the massive living room couch, the fireplace in front of them harbored a slowly dying fire, and the Christmas tree stood valiant in the corner. Clark, with his arm resting on Bruce’s shoulders, pulled him closer in as their bodies slot together comfortably. He planted a soft kiss to the top of Bruce’s hair and rubbed small circles into his shoulder with his thumb.
Bruce never would’ve believed his life would end up like this. It’s times like these, an occasion like Christmas Eve, that remind him of how lucky he is. Tonight, all of his kids are asleep in their rooms, which he will always keep for them no matter how far they live. Even Jason decided to spend the night. How Bruce was able to mend their relationship he might never truly understand. He spends every day in awe of how far Jason has come, and how lucky he feels to be included in his life again. The same for all his kids, no matter how many times he’s messed things up, these wonderful people have enough compassion and love to forgive and mend. He doubts he can attribute any of that to his parenting. Each and every one of them carved out a life for themselves, and have grown into the kind of people Bruce wishes he was at their age. He’s never been filled with more pride than he is when he’s around them. Above all, he’s so happy they’re home.
And there’s Clark. Clark who radiates warmth, love, and hope. Clark who embodies humanity, and defies the label “alien”. Clark who saves people everywhere out of the goodness of his heart. Clark who fought through Bruce’s coldness and distrust for years with a smile and kindness. Clark who looked truly shocked when Bruce reciprocated his feelings. Clark who got on one knee, and cried at their wedding. Clark, who now is sitting on a huge leather couch in a huge manor with his billionaire husband, but is wearing a sweater his Ma knitted for him over a T-shirt he’s owned since high school. And there’s Bruce who sits in his mansion that could’ve mirrored the empty one he spent many Christmases alone in, curled up next to his husband in matching sweaters from his mother-in-law. He’s never felt this right in his entire life.
“Hey B?” Clark muttered, sleep seeping into the edge of his voice.
“Mm,” Bruce replied. His heavy eyes had drifted closed at some point, and his head had rolled onto Clark’s chest.
“I think you’re falling asleep there, sweetheart,” Clark chuckled. Bruce straightened up and rubbed his eyes.
“No, I’m just thinking.”
“Oh really? Thinking about what?” Clark asked, his voice mixed with amusement and curiosity. Bruce hummed, leaning his weight into Clark’s side again.
“Life, the kids, you. How I got here, why I got here. Stuff like that.” Clark hummed in acknowledgement, and turned Bruce’s face gently to look at him. The steel behind his eyes was that of loving concern, which Bruce was familiar with by now. Although he didn’t say it, Clark knew what he meant. I’m thinking about how I don’t deserve this.
“I love you. I am extremely lucky to have you in my life, to call your family my own, and to spend nights like these by your side. I sound like a big damn sap but I wouldn’t rather my life turn out a different way.” Clark smiled at him softly, a smile that belonged to Clark- not Superman- that he shared only with Bruce. Bruce was silent, his mind completely filled with emotions he couldn’t possibly verbalize, so he did the only thing he knew that could really communicate how he felt.
Gently, he cupped Clark’s face in his hands. Clark melted into the touch and kissed the palm of his hand. Bruce pulled his face forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Their kiss was gentle, slow, it was the kind of kiss shared only by two people who knew they had all the time in the world. Clark pulled back, resting their foreheads together for a moment before covering the rest of Bruce’s face in small kisses. Finally, they both settled back into the couch.
“I love you too, by the way,” Bruce said, a small smile on his lips. Clark huffed a small laugh through his nose and laced their fingers together.
“I know.”
Bruce couldn’t be sure how much more time passed. He didn’t remember quite when his eyes slipped shut again, and he had no sense of time in his slightly conscious state. He relished in this haze, the place between awake and asleep that he usually never allowed himself to enjoy. Despite not truly falling asleep, he awoke to an absence of warmth as Clark got up from the couch. Bruce slowly opened his eyes to watch Clark double check that the fire had gone out, and turn to face Bruce with his hands on his hips. The low light framed him wonderfully, and Bruce took a minute soaking in the domesticity of the moment.
“C’mon we’ve got to get to bed or we’ll be horribly sore for Christmas morning,” Clark declared. Bruce groaned as he stood, his joints popping slightly as he stretched out his back and shoulders. He was right, but a part of Bruce wished he could stay on that couch, in that moment, for just a little longer. Clark wandered over and placed a steady hand on Bruce’s waist as he guided him up the stairs.
This is how it’s meant to be, Bruce thought. Snow was softly falling onto Gotham’s unusually quiet streets, the manor was full with Bruce’s peaceful, sleeping kids, and he was falling asleep on Christmas night in the arms of his husband. Not just his husband, Clark, the man he loves. As he let himself drift off to sleep, Bruce Wayne started to believe he might deserve the love, and the life, that he has.
The End