Work Text:
Clark is wrangling his ranch’s newest wild horse as he says clearly “I’m telling you, there’s no point in going to those dances anymore, Pa. It’s just become an excuse to drink and watch young couples bat their eyelashes at each other.”
His elderly father laughed, “Oh, come now, Clark! These dance nights are the only time that the whole town gets together! Even Ma and I are going - you gotta come!”
Clark rolled his eyes. It wasn’t his fault that he was so adverse to going to these town dances - he had loved going when he was a younger man. It was actually where he met his ex-wife.
Lois had been sweet, clever, outspoken, and charming - all things that Clark loved in her. They hit it off quick when Clark was in his mid-20s, and they had gotten married fast. Lois had been the perfect partner for almost 25 years. They ended up having two sons together, Conner and Jonathan, when Clark was in his mid-30s. He was happy - he thought he would always be happy.
Clark was dumbfounded when Lois served him divorce papers a few years ago.
It turns out, Lois had always wanted to be a reporter in the booming Metropolis journalism scene, however, she felt trapped by Clark’s unwavering loyalty to the ranch and his parents. Every time she suggested visiting Metropolis or branching out of Kansas, Clark refused to take it seriously. Little by little, she had begun resenting him. Finally, she saved up enough money with her online blog and jobs around the small town to file for divorce. Lois didn’t want Clark’s ranch nor his money - she just wanted custody of their sons and she wanted to leave Kansas as soon as humanly possible.
That’s what ultimately happened - Lois moved out with the boys after the divorce, moving to Metropolis. Even if his sons were older now, they only visited Clark on occasion, rarely staying in Kansas now that they had roots in Metropolis. The entire ordeal left Clark bitter and cold. He told himself that he was fine never loving anyone romantically ever again.
Pa promised him, “We’ll go in separate trucks, just an hour is all I’m asking for! You can leave the tavern early if it doesn’t work for you. Maybe you’ll have a good time.”
Clark sighed, “Doubt it. But fine, one hour.”
~~~
Clark nursed a drink in his hand as the loud music blared in the tavern. He constantly looked at his watch as the dance floor became flooded with couples, young and old as the music changed to something more romantic and sensual. Practically the entire small town was there, buzzing about the month’s news - these town dances only happened once a month, and it was a prime place to catch up on news and gossip.
As expected, Clark wasn’t enjoying himself. He did as Ma asked and wore a nice shirt and jeans, but all he wanted to do was go home. He had been there for 48 minutes, getting ready to wrap up his drink and head out.
That’s when two unfamiliar faces slipped into the tavern. They caught everyone’s attention. One was an older gentleman, very proper and put together. The other was a younger man, dressed in all black and with a sad look in his eye.
Pa walked right up to the older man, like he had known him forever. “Alfred, is that you?! My gosh, you look like you barely changed!”
Alfred chuckled, hugging Pa and saying, “That is the biggest exaggeration I have ever heard, old friend. 45 years away does not pass in the blink of an eye.” Pa waved the other older members of town over, introducing Alfred to them. It turned out that Alfred had been his neighbor for a short while almost 45 years ago, and had left for service after only a short while of being here. That was why most people barely remembered him - however, Pa had written to him on occasion over the years, so they had kept in touch.
Pa finally asked Alfred, “Who did you bring with you, friend? Your grandson?”
Alfred nodded, motioning at the younger man, “You could say that. This is my godson, Bruce.” Alfred pat Bruce’s back, eliciting a slight grunt from the young man. Bruce exchanged a few words with Alfred before he walked towards the bar where Clark was sitting. He ordered a whiskey and sat quietly, not speaking.
Clark analyzed the young man’s face. He was sure he had seen the man before, but he couldn't place it.
“You’re staring quite intensely.” Clark blinked, realizing Bruce was speaking to him. His voice was deeper than he expected, and his eyes were so dark and tired.
Clark smiled politely, saying, “Just felt like I’ve seen you before. You have striking eyes, like you’ve seen the world in a way no one else has.”
Bruce turned towards his drink, saying, “I’m popular in Gotham, so it’s no surprise you’ve seen me before.” He paused, and Clark thought the man had finished his thought, but then Bruce spoke again, “You’re…the first person to say that about my eyes. Most people say I have a sad dog look about me.”
Clark could definitely see that Bruce did have the appearance of someone tired and worn down, despite his young age. “Well, I can definitely see why they'd say that. But then again, most people don't recognize beauty.” Clark had no idea why those words left his lips - was he…flirting with this stranger? Even Bruce looked surprised.
Before Clark could apologize, Bruce responded, “Well, you’re not bad looking yourself, Mr. Kent.” Clark raised an eyebrow, and Bruce spoke, “Alfred spoke to me about your parents, so I already knew about you.”
Clark chuckled. The two made small talk, which slowly devolved into more detailed conversations. The two spoke about everything from Clark’s divorce and Bruce’s loss of his parents to gentler topics, like Clark’s love for taming horses and Bruce’s enjoyment for watching the circus when it came to Gotham. Hours passed. Clark had been so eager to leave…but now he wanted to stay.
The night was winding down. Clark noticed the music changing to softer, more romantic tunes.
Bruce commented, “This might be the last dance of the night by the look of it.”
Clark looked at Bruce again - maybe the alcohol was clouding his judgement, but he decided to ask, “It’s a shame neither of us got to dance. Unless…you feel like changing that?”
Bruce turned back to him, and a rare smile flirted across his lips, “No offense, Clark, but you look like you have two left feet when you dance.”
Clark chuckled at the younger man’s audacity; he stood up and offered his hand, “Maybe you should show me how it’s done then, Bruce.” He was shocked when Bruce stood up and took his hand.
Their dance was in the middle of the tavern’s dance floor, as it seemed like the crowd parted for the two of them. The lights dimmed and the two were watching each other closely as they danced a basic waltz together. Both of them danced fluidly - they both had years of practice for very different reasons. They switch positions on and off, both taking the lead at different points in the song. It wasn’t a fight for dominance - it was a gentle push and pull of control.
When the drips in the song came, Clark dipped Bruce, but when Bruce came back up, their faces were inches apart.
Clark knew he shouldn’t; Bruce was a stranger, and he could ruin a relationship that was slowly budding, but he was tired of yearning - but he leaned in, and Bruce reciprocated.
Everyone left in that tavern saw the older, divorced rancher and the Gotham socialite lock lips for a moment before they parted. Instead of judgement though, many of them smiled - they had seen Clark suffer for years after Lois left, and seeing him happy was wonderful.
Whatever happened after tonight, Clark could care less. Today, his eyes were only for Bruce, a man he barely knew - a man who gave him reason to believe in love again.