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    Summary

    Lost in the thoughts of last night and all that it had brought to him, he barely noticed that the milk was almost overflowing from the bowl and that Bruce Wayne was completely focused on wrangling Dick into his chair and on getting Dick to stop talking about Superman for one second to eat his cereal and pancakes. Setting the jug of milk down and clearing his throat a little too loudly in his act of trying to behave in the usual absentminded way, he drew a stare from Bruce, whose gaze only succeeded in wanting to make him sink through the marble floor and into the earth where he could forever be left alone and not have to eventually confront what had happened between them. For now, though, he was safe. After Bruce's cursory glance, Clark found himself free of that piercing gaze which usually had the opposite effect from what it was having now.

    For years, Clark had considered them friends. Best friends, even, although he did know that Bruce thought little of friendship as a concept and lesser of Clark as a candidate for 'best friendship'. But... best friends sure as heck didn't sleep together. And if they did, it surely wasn't a good idea... was it...?

    Series
    Language:
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