Work Text:
“I’m just saying as the only person in the league with a metabolism as fast as me, we need to have more candy in this place! I mean c’mon— Batman said that some rich benefactor funds this whole thing right? Is it so unreasonable to ask for some Reece’s from time to time?” As soon as Flash finishes his rant that has gone on for at least five minutes the rest of the group is quick to cut in when they get the first chance.
“Dude, spooky won’t even let me bring a coffee into the monitor room for a five hour shift, you honestly think he’s going to risk the crumbs and stickiness of a chocolate-covered-nougat candy?” As much as Hal loves the Flash, he feels like food is his most outstanding personality trait, but he needs no excuse to go on a tirade about Batman and his stupid rules when it comes to the Watchtower. Also, they are quite literally on their way to the food lounge right now for some dinner after a grueling training regime— again enforced by Batman— so sue him for being a little salty about it.
“You know you could just ask right?” Dinah looks confused at the rest of the group's stare as she finishes her sentence. “I mean I know he wouldn’t say no to those energy bars that are literally 30 feet from you.” She raises an eyebrow at Barry.
“Do you actually want me to die?? There’s no way that I’m doing that.” Barry shivers at the thought. Batman has a glare — that the league has dubbed Batglare ™— that could literally melt the skin off of him. Okay maybe not literally but it definitely felt like it. Barry was still skeptical that Bats wasn’t a meta that could see into people’s souls or something.
“Batman is not unreasonable, if it’s in budget and for good reason, I don’t see why he would deny you. And if you want, I can come as well. I’ve been meaning to bring Mera up here for a while, but she still has a guest pass, which has to go through him, Superman, or Diana to get approved.”
“While you bring it up Arthur, why does it have to go through Big Blue, Diana, or… spooky?!” Hal stops his argument abruptly to stare ahead, when the rest of the group caught wind of what he was staring at, which was… well the best way to describe it was jarring.
What they found was Batman hunched over a cafeteria table, cream cheese bagel halfway to his mouth with files somehow covering every single inch of the large surface. This in itself was not too much cause for alarm, except Batman was currently asleep at the table.
Batman was a very, very very private person. He had not told the league his secret identity yet— even though pretty much everyone else had, except for a few newer heroes— he never talked about his private life in any capacity, and he made a point never to be vulnerable around them. Whenever he had sustained an injury, everyone who showed concern was shooed away with grunts about being fine— the most recent incident being all of three days ago where Batman received a concussion, 5 broken ribs, and his left wrist had a freaking open fracture! The league, knowing Batman’s stubbornness, had all but begged him to at least take a few days off. Hal got the impression that maybe they should’ve just tied him to his bed in his quarters, because that was clearly the only way he was going to get any rest.
“How did he even get up here?! I thought Supes blocked his Zeta code so he couldn’t enter!” Flash was, understandably, baffled.
“Batman has been known to be trained in hacking and such” Aquaman sounded oddly… proud.
“Arthur, don’t encourage him. He’s already gone against every medical recommendation that has been written in the last century.” Dinah muttered disapprovingly.
“Hey I thought he handed off handling making the new Scarecrow antidote to you Barry?”
“No, I never got anything, did he even hand off any of his assignments?”
“Figures.” Hal mumbles.
“Yikes, he must be really exhausted to fall asleep like this… What should we do with him?” Hal questioned, a smug smile on his face.
“Hal! If we do anything, not only will we most certainly perish, we’ll have lost what little trust we’ve gained, and then never know his secret identity!” Barry scolded.
“Not even a picture? No one will believe us otherwise, even if all of us were there.”
Everyone pauses.
“... Hmmm. Okay fine, ONE picture. Then let's actually get our exhausted and very injured friend to bed, got it?” The Flash was met with approving nods.
“Barry, check if he ripped any of his stitches, because this is gonna be a whole different story if we gotta give him medical attention.”
Barry makes a thumbs up at Hal, “He has not managed to medically compromise himself… yet. Otherwise we would have to attempt to reach his companion.”
“Companion? I thought, ‘Mr. I Am The Night’ worked alone?” Barry questioned.
“I thought so too until three days ago, he notified someone, called him ‘Agent A’ over the phone and soon enough he was medivacked out of the area before we could force medical attention.” Dinah recalled. “Well now that we know that we can get him to his quarters to get some rest.”
“Right… except the door would have to actually let us in… which means Spooky would have actually given us permission to go into his quarters… which would never happen.”
“Hal has a decent point, why would he give us access to his private quarters before telling us his secret identity?”
“We never know, he’s always coming up with all of those contingency plans, maybe if he thought there was an emergency he would give one or more of us permission to enter?”
“Well there's only one way to find out.” Hal said gleefully.
“You are way too happy about this GL” Dinah pointedly looked at him.
“Are you telling me you’re not the least bit curious to learn the slightest bit of new information about the enigma that is The Batman?” Hal asked knowingly.
“... Let’s just go.”
Green Lantern followed, a smug smile on his face.
/|\ ^._.^ /|\
“Okay so who’s going first?”
“Least likely to get it to most?” Flash suggested
“Sounds good… Hal go on and try it.” Canary said with an ever so slight grin on her face.
Hal begrudgingly goes up to the door and tries the hand print pad that appears as he gets close to the door.
“Recognized: Green Lantern, 06; Access Denied”
“Well, we all saw that coming” Arthur grins at a seething Green Lantern as he steps up to the door.
Arthur does the same only to hear, “Recognized: Aquaman, 08; Access Denied” to which he frowns and steps back.
“Ok Barry, your turn.” Dinah states.
“What? Really?" Flash asks secretly hoping out of the group he would be most trusted, only for the remaining men to agree with Black Canary.
“Sorry man, but yeah.” Hal shrugs.
Flash drags his feet over to the door and follows suit, “Recognized: The Flash, 02; Access Denied”
“What?! Aww man, but the other day he even smiled at me!”
“Dude what are you talking about, hell would sooner freeze over” Hal stares at him like he’s grown a second head.
“Well I’m telling you he did!” Flash insists.
“Probably a facial tick” everyone nods at Aquaman
“Whatever,” Barry huffs
Canary puts her hand on the scanner and waits for the reply, “Recognized: Black Canary, 09; Access Denied”
“Well shoot, what do we do now?”
“Diana’s in Themyscira right?” Hal asks.
“Yeah, something about a purple healing ray? I don’t know I wasn't really paying attention”
“And you wonder why you’re not the most trusted.” Hal rolls his eyes.
“Hey! You didn’t let in either!” Flash points out.
“BOYS! Might I remind you we have a Batman upstairs that deserves his rest? Cut down on the bickering” Dinah pointedly scolds, leaving the two men shamed. “Now. We should call Superman, and get him over here, they’re pretty good friends so there's a pretty good chance that he can open Batman’s door. Worst case scenario we just put him in the medical bay or a guest room.”
“So who’s gonna call him?” Everyone looks at Hal.
“What?! How on Earth did you come to the conclusion that this is my problem?” Hal protests.
“HAL”
“ALRIGHT, Jesus. Okay, I’ll call him” Green Lantern huffs before dialing ‘Big Blue’.
/|\ ^._.^ /|\
After a long day at the Planet, while also having to step out twice to handle superhero duties in Metropolis, Clark was looking forward to his Chinese takeout in his fridge. He was a little bummed that wouldn’t see Batman, but for all he knew an emergency would show up in Gotham that would need him, seeing as Batman was on medical leave (and so help him Rao he will stay that way until he’s completely healed if Clark had anything to say about it, which he always did when it came to Batman. As he unlocked his apartment door he decided not to worry about the fact that he hoped there was an emergency in Gotham, just for the sake of seeing and checking on his best friend/man he’s been in love with for the last 3 years.
Lois was still on him about that, telling him to ask him out almost every single time Clark talked about him, which he will admit is often, but she doesn’t understand the risk he’d be taking! Sure, their friendship has come a long way, and Batman no longer glares at him like he killed his dog, and there are moments where Clark has felt their connection deepen, but Batman has never given an indication that it was deepening in any romantic way.
Clark sighs as he waits for his lo mien to heat up in the microwave, setting up with his computer to continue to edit his upcoming story, because hero work is not leaving him a lot of him for his 9-5, when he hears his phone start to vibrate.
He looks up at the ceiling like he’s expecting Rao to appear out of thin air and save him from whatever responsibility that might be hurdling his way, while he looks at the caller ID: Hal
‘Just great, like I don’t have enough problems’
Clark makes one last prayer to whoever might be listening as he picks up the phone, “What is it Hal?” He hopes he doesn’t sound as impatient as he feels, but if Hal pulls him away from his Lo Mien he might have to ring Green Lantern’s neck.
“Hey Big Blue,” he sounds sheepish, which throws Clark off balance “We’ve got a situation and as of…right now you’re kinda the only one that can help”
“What’s the situation?” he asks, worrying if there might actually be a problem.
“Sooo, Batsy got into the Watchtower, somehow, and is currently passed out in the cafeteria, we tried to get into his room, but none of us were granted access and we were wondering if you could stop by to see if you can get—”
“Of course! I’ll be there as soon as I can, I’m on my way there now.” Clark quickly hangs up, heartbeat speeding up, and gets his suit to fly up to the Watchtower. He wishes he could say he’s surprised that Batman completely ignored not only medical advice, but orders from the rest of the JL, but he’s really not. He tries to push down his worry for the man that never so much as blinks for too long in the JL’s presence let alone fall asleep in a public setting where anyone can walk in on him however, he can’t quite manage it. As the Watchtower scans and lets him in he rushes to where he knows Batman’s quarters are (no, he won’t clarify how or why he’s memorized that) and sees Dinah, Hal, Barry, Arthur… and no Batman?
“Where is he?” Clark demands
“I told you, we found him in the cafeteria and—” but Clark cuts Hal off
“You just left him there?!” Honestly! These people shouldn’t be trusted with whole cities let alone their injured and most definitely chronically exhausted friend. “He has 5 broken ribs and his wrist is still in the critical stages of healing!” He scoffs
“Whoa there Clark, he’s okay, we already scanned him in case he messed up the healing process…more than he already has by not being in bed at least, and we called you as soon as our access got denied by his quarters” Dinah explains, sensing Clark’s distress of Batman.
He deflates a little. Okay, it wasn’t as bad as Hal explained it, Batman is mostly okay, and he will soon be asleep, banned from work for the next 3 months, which Clark will make sure he upholds personally because clearly Batman cannot be trusted with his own medical care. Where is this ‘Agent A’? When these injuries happened in the first place he communicated with this person and his own freaking plane appeared out of nowhere to medivac him out to safety!
He takes a deep breath before responding, “Sorry Dinah, I didn’t mean to snap at you. Let me try to scan into his room and then we can see about him getting some proper rest, yeah?” The rest of the group nods before stepping out of his way to let Clark have access to the handprint scanner.
He would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous, Batman is his best friend certainly, but does that mean he is trusted enough for this? To be granted access to where Batman can drop the mask even for a little while? Will Clark be invited to his escape, with the intention of letting him in in more ways than one?
He rests his hand on the scanner and waits for the automated voice, “Recognized: Superman, 07; Further Assessment Needed” as a bright flash blinds the crew for a good ten seconds before the door speaks again, “Retina scan complete, Welcome Superman”
“My rooms never ask for a retina scan! Why does Batsy get more security than the rest of us?”
“Probably because he’s more paranoid than all of us combined?” Arthur points out
“Oh, well that makes sen—”
“Guys! Batman offered you as many security layers as you wanted, if you remember correctly, and now that we know I can get in I can go get him and get him to bed.” Superman finishes with a huff.
“What about the room?! C’mon just let us have a peek, please?” Flash looks up at him with interlocked hands.
Clark looks at his deadpan, “You realize it’s because of behaviors like that, that got you denied access to his room in the first place right?”
Flash looks dejected but releases the puppy dog look.
“Don’t you all have somewhere to be? I can take it from here.” He says, not wanting others to take advantage of Batman’s vulnerability more than they surely already have.
The rest of the group seems hesitant for a few seconds before going their separate ways, Hal and Barry on their way to their shift at the Watchtower security room (that was left unattended this entire time?) and Arthur and Dinah to the zeta tube where they returned, assumingly, to their relative homes. Clark closes the door to Batman’s room, his curiosity only quelled due to the fact he knows he’ll see it soon, and then goes up to the cafeteria to retrieve the Bat.
Walking into the cafeteria, Clark immediately spots Batman, softly snoring around all of his files and, surprisingly, a cream cheese bagel. He finds himself sitting next to Batman, softly watching him as he breathes deeply. Clark can’t remember the last time he could just look at him, without him being on a medical cot, or in some otherwise compromised position, so he watches. He can hear, and see, and feel the evidence that his best friend is not in any mortal peril, like he is in so often. He just wishes it could stay that way, he knows that’s not fair to him, seeing as Superman is in danger pretty much every other day due to Kryptonite, but seeing him now, feeling the vibrations of his steady heartbeat, he so desperately wants this to last forever. Clark can feel his heartbeat finally slow down to his resting state as he lets it sink in, and breathes deeply right along with the protector of Gotham.
Not wanting him to get sore from his sleeping position, Clark gently shakes his shoulder in an attempt to wake the bat. “Batman, c’mon you gotta wake up, you can’t sleep here.” He barely dodges Batman’s head in time as he shoots up, fists balled up like he’s expecting an attack while still holding his bagel. Clark has to stifle a laugh at the scene in front of him and holds his hands up in surrender.
“It’s just me B, you fell asleep, so I was called to get you into your room” He explains.
Batman’s eyes relax as he realizes he is in fact not getting attacked, and he rubs his eyes in a fruitless effort of getting himself to wake up. Clark can see exhaustion creeping into his stature, body language, and speech as he hold himself up in a front of professionalism, “How’s I ge’ ‘ere”
Oh boy
Clark doesn’t try to explain again, especially with not knowing exactly how much sleep he’s missed, “C’mon, up you get, let’s get you into your room” he speaks softly as he holds Batman’s shoulder to aid him in standing only for him to almost fall back onto his knees, before Clark catches him.
“Do you think you can try to walk with me?” he suggests, knowing that being carried is the bats least favorite mode of transportation.
“Yea, jus’ gimme a sec” his legs shake as he attempts to stand once again before Clark can’t take watching him struggle anymore, and he slides an arm under Batman’s knees, the other supporting his back before lifting him against Clark's chest. Expecting a fight out of his arms he steels himself, only to feel a head nuzzle into his chest, practically snuggling into him.
Oh my Rao oh how can he be so adorable
Clark can feel his heart twist at the scene as he looks down at the bat, softly slumbering like he never woke up in the first place, and is just so awed at the blatant trust Batman has for him that he has to take a breath to calm his rapidly beating heart that is so loud it might as well wake him up.
Gently floating, he continues on.
“Wai’, my files…” Batman protests weakly.
Without a word he organizes the files spread around the cafeteria table and promptly leaves them there, because there is no way he would make it any easier for him to access work when, for the millionth time, he is supposed to be resting.
When he arrives, he waits for the two step verification of, “Recognized: Superman, 07. Access Granted” and… walks into Batman’s private quarters.
Okay, no need to freak out here, you are just in the room of your best friend/crush but that’s no reason to panic
Batman, immune to his spiraling, just snores on.
Clark avoids looking around Batman’s personal quarters to avoid invading B’s privacy and sets his pillows up in a way that when he sets Batman down, he is sitting comfortably upright.
Just when he thinks he is about to leave without breaking some sort of trust between him and his teammate, Clark does a double take on the heavily armored kevlar that suits Batman. He sits in front of Batman and starts to debate internally on what to do, he knows that all the armor he wears is extremely heavy and should not be slept in, however he also knows he would never forgive himself if he revealed Batman’s identity to himself when Batman is so vulnerable.
During this mental breakdown of thinking of what to do to make him more comfortable without breaking Batman’s trust, Clark realizes that he now is his half-awake, in conscious state and, as if sensing his internal turmoil, mumbles to Clark to take off his cowl.
Clark, even though he has superhearing and definitely heard Batman correctly says , “What?”
”C’mon Kal,” omg he’s never called me that before “ I know you heard me, this thing is uncomfortable to be in for so long, and it’ll leave marks if I fall asleep in it.”
“I could look away if you want? Use X-ray vision to only look at your bones—“
“Clark” Batman interrupts “I’ve been meaning to tell you my identity for a while now, but have been putting it off for too long, this is as good a time as any.”
That shuts Clark up, he sits on the edge of the bed and hovers his hands close to the cowl, hesitating.
“Are you sure that you want me to—“
“Kal, please. I trust you more than anyone, and I’m too exhausted to argue right now, just get it off me.” Clark smiles lightly, sure that Batman might be embarrassed later, but eventually decides not to dwell on it too much.
Oh my Rao this is really happening
Right as Clark goes to lift it, Bruce’s eyes fly open—“Wait!” And Clark thinks that he is having second thoughts so he brings it back down the half inch that it was brought up, only too late because an electrical shock that would’ve incapacitated most people (except for Clark obviously) shoots out across his body. Clark releases his hands and watches as the shocks run across him and fade, obviously he doesn’t feel anything but in Batman’s state, he panics (as much as he can when he’s about to pass out) “Kal!” Batman’s hands reach up, with a speed surprising considering his exhaustion, to cup his face and tilts Clark’s head so that B can get a better look at him, scanning for injuries that aren’t there.
Clark, finding the concern sweet but obviously unnecessary, doesn't want to stress Bruce out more than his body can handle as reaches up to B’s wrists to try to calm him, “B it’s ok, the shock didn’t hurt me, I’m invulnerable remember?” The physical contact and Clark’s easy expression calm Batman and remind him, returning him to a dazed and slightly confused state.
“Oh. Right, I don’t know what—“ “I know” Clark says soothingly, still rubbing his thumbs in a relaxing circular motion on Batman’s wrists, “But I’m ok, I promise. How should I remove your cowl without setting off any more boobytraps?” he teases.
“I can do it”
“You sure?”
“Yeah” Bruce mumbles and unlocks the mechanisms through muscle memory.
“Now you can take it off” he says as he closes his eyes and waits for Clark’s warm hands at the side of his face as he pulls it up. Clark can’t help his soft gasp as he stares Bruce Wayne in the face with black eye makeup all around his eyes that he now can see are a striking blue.
“Wow” Clark blurts out,
Oh shit
“uh— I mean, I just—“
“Cat got your tongue Boy Scout?” Bruce says wearing the CEO Bruce Wayne Billionaire grin with half-lidded eyes.
“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that I was never a Boy Scout,” Clark grumbles.
Bruce barks out a laugh, a real one, not his socialite, Brucie Wayne laugh that he’s seen, when working at galas, but one so free of barriers that Clark can imagine only the lucky few have seen. Him included, Clark now realizes as he feels his cheeks flush at the stark, rare laugh of his friend.
“I know,” Bruce says, laughter subsiding “But it’s better than the other thing I call you.”
This gets Clark’s attention and even though he knows his friend will wake up in the morning realizing Clark only very slightly manipulated him, just a little, he can’t resist that in the state Bruce is in right now, he is likely to tell him what he means instead of his usual brushing Clark off with the Batglare ™
“What is that supposed to mean?” he asks with faux innocence
Bruce, realizing what he said out loud, blinks in realization, and looks away from Clark, but not fast enough where Clark can see how he blushes a little. Clark is glaring openly at him now, at the side of Bruce that he has never seen before.
Sure, he’s seen gruff embarrassment and maybe he’s seen Batman’s face reflect his regret of a few choice words to the league, once in a blue moon, but never has Clark seen him be shy and blush like this, and looking down, seemingly in shame of the nickname he’s given the other man.
“C’mon B! I’m sure it’s not that bad, you can tell me and I promise to not be offended” Clark raises his hands up in reassurance.
“It’s not bad or demoralizing or anything, it’s just embarrassing.” Bruce looks down, blush deepening.
And now Clark is really curious, and can’t quite help himself to pry at his friend a little more, “B, you know I don’t think you would give me a derogatory name, but…” he continues suggestively “if it’s not that bad, then why not tell me?” he asks Bruce, wearing a teasing expression.
Bruce sighs like he’s being walked to the gallows, his head falling down on Clark's shoulder, seemingly so he doesn’t have to face him. He practically whispers it in the smallest voice he can, like he wouldn’t hear Bruce’s voice even when half across the world, “it’s… sweetheart.” he states begrudgingly, trying to sound emotionless.
Clark freezes for a second, tries to process, and ultimately fails because his best friend, who is Batman, calls Clark ‘sweetheart’ behind his back.
Clark exe. has stopped working.
He doesn’t even register Bruce lifting his head to gauge his reaction.
Bruce pulls his hands up over his face in embarrassment but Clark catches them and puts them down and holds them in his own hands, much to Bruce’s shock, “There’s no need to feel embarrassed” Clark says sincerely, “C’mon let’s get the rest of your suit off so you can finally sleep” Bruce nods, most of his embarrassment giving way to exhaustion once again.
“Sorry, I’m just a little out of it”
“Stop that. I pressed you, when I should’ve been getting you to sleep, if it’s anyone’s fault it’s mine.” Clark says reassuringly.
“Always such a sweetheart” Bruce mumbles, so softly that no one except for someone with super-hearing would have heard, Rao this man as he sits more upright to start undoing the rest of his suit, only for him to let out a frustrated whine when it gets stuck.
Clark snaps out of his blushing daze at the sound and stands to help Bruce. He stills as Clark puts his hands on Bruce’s hips as a silent offer to help. Bruce, to Clark’s surprise, just nods against his shoulder, so Clark starts undoing all the mechanics in the suit while Bruce patiently stands, albeit, swaying a bit under Clark’s hold.
Clark tries not to look too hard at Bruce’s hard won body, but ultimately fails a little to marvel at the muscles and scars he has picked up in his years of being a vigilante. When he finally has the uniform pulled down to Bruce’s feet, leaving him in an undershirt and athletic shorts, he helps Bruce sit down on the bed again, lifting his feet a little to pull the batsuit from under him. Bruce motions a closet that he can put it in and when Clark walks over to what he assumes to be the closet, a motion sensor beeps and an electronic keypad lock comes into view.
Clark turns back and raises an eyebrow at Bruce, who looks seconds away from falling asleep, but is watching him closely with an expression he can’t place.
“The batsuit holds most of my most dangerous weapons,” Bruce defends.
Clark raises his hands in a mock surrender, “I didn’t say anything, it’s very you” he says with a smile.
“Why does that sound like an insult?” Bruce grumbles.
Clark muffles his laugh at Bruce’s pouty expression, “It’s not B, I admire how cautious you are, but I need the code unless you're going to get off your bed and put it in yourself?” Clark asks pointedly.
Bruce makes no move to do such a thing, “The code is 0618” and Clark decides to ignore and not think about the fact that Bruce made his closet code Clark’s adoptive birthday. Clark would wonder how he got the information on the date his parents found him in the rocket he arrived in, but Bruce was not named ‘World's Best Detective’ for nothing. He can’t quite muster the poker face he hopes and peeks over at Bruce, who now appears to find the opposite bare wall very interesting. Clark chooses to let him off the hook in favor of simply punches in the code to put The Batsuit away.
Locking the suit back up, he walks back over to Bruce and is about to suggest he, finally, go to sleep, when he notices again the black makeup around his eyes, making his bold blue/grey eyes stand out. Clark sits on the bed just beside him, and brushes his hair out of his eyes to get a better look.
“Do you have any makeup wipes that I can use to wipe this off?” Clark asks, fingers brushing against the makeup just under his eye.
“Bathroom. Top left drawer.” Bruce mumbles as he leans into Clark’s hand.
Clark, very reluctantly, takes his hand back to go grab the makeup wipes, leaving a half-lidded Bruce, looking almost disappointed in the loss in contact. When Clark comes back Bruce’s head is slightly leaned forward, eyes fully closed. Clark floats very slowly and softly sits on the bed, tipping Bruce’s head up so he can hopefully take off the makeup while not waking him, but as soon as the cold wipe brushes his face his eyes return to the half awake state, looking almost confused as to how he got there.
“Shhh, it’s ok B, just taking off your makeup remember?” Bruce nods and leans his head against the headboard, giving Clark a better angle to see, and also letting Bruce relax as he lets his friend take care of him for the first time. Trying to be as gentle as possible, he brushes the wipe against his skin, taking off the black makeup, slowly but surely. Once he’s done he takes the towel he grabbed while in the bathroom, wiping the leftover residue from the makeup wipe off, so Bruce can sleep comfortably, softly grabbing his shoulders to maneuver him into laying down, head on his pillow, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ears.
Figuring that Bruce is now asleep, he kneels in front of him, fingers brushing over his forehead one last time before placing a feather-light kiss on his hair before standing up to leave Bruce to some well-earned sleep. Only, when Clark begins to step away he feels a hand on his wrist tugging him back to look at Bruce, who rubs his thumb in a circle across Clark’s wrist, as if preserving the contact between the two before whispering, “Stay.” And it wasn’t a question, but he can see the hesitation in Bruce’s eyes as he says it, as if he expects Clark to be able to walk away from the man he’s been in love with for years.
He doesn’t respond, but moves to the other side of the bed, slowly pulling back the covers and slipping in, leaving enough room in between them to be respectful, restraining himself from reaching out to Bruce and pulling him against his chest like he wants to. Bruce, apparently offended by this action, huffs as he scoots closer to Clark until Bruce's head is on his shoulder, hair brushing against his skin and Bruce finally gets comfortable and closes his eyes. Clark, eyes still wide and Bruce's apparent cuddle nature, reaches his arms around Bruce, lightly tugging him closer until his head is resting on Clark’s collar bone, rubbing his hands in a soothing circular pattern on Bruce’s back, lulling him to sleep in a matter of seconds. He hears Bruce’s headbeat recede into a slower, but ever powerful rhythm of sleep, and with Bruce in his arms, he can’t quite manage to stay awake to appreciate the scene in front of him, following Bruce into a deep sleep, his head lulling into the crook of Bruce’s shoulder.
/|\ ^._.^ /|\
Clark wakes up like he normally does, slowly rousing, stretching, and taking in the warmth of the—Sun? He looks around at the unfamiliar darkness of his room. Did he forget to open the blinds last night? Clark almost moves to the window— where did the window go?— when he finally notches the warm weight on top of him, hindering the movement. Looking down, he sees his best friend, now revealed Bruce Wayne, and the memories of last night come flooding back.
His heart starts pounding despite himself and he considers himself lucky that Bruce doesn’t wake up from that alone.
Bruce is now fully on top of him, hands resting on Clark's waist, head buried into his sternum, breathing deeply, but softly, and heartbeat, like always, beating in a strong unmoving rhythm. Clark takes the moment to run his hands through Bruce’s hair — wow it is so soft — taking the time to look at him, face relaxed, snoring softly, he looks so peaceful like this that Clark never wants this moment to end. Of course the universe hates him and after only a few minutes of Clark getting this soft, almost domestic moment, he can hear Bruce’s heart rate slowly get faster, out of the deep slumber he was in before, until it returns to his usual rate, still strong, consistent, and perfectly rhythmic, if only a little bit faster than usual.
He waits for Bruce to open his eyes, or give any outward clue that he’s awoken, but Bruce just rests there, pretending to be asleep, and Clark can’t help but smile at his antics.
“I know you’re awake” Clark whispers against his temple, hesitating slightly before giving him a soft kiss there, hands still running through Bruce’s hair.
Bruce freezes, and doesn’t respond with words, only to then snuggle closer, much to Clark’s surprise. Even in his fantasies of sweet domestic moments of the two, he really didn’t think Bruce would be much of a cuddler, but he’s more than happy to be proven wrong.
“Shhhhh, five more minutes”
Clark stifles a laugh, and just squeezes him closer. They lie like that for so long that he starts to fall back asleep, only roused by feeling the warm weight removed from him.
“Are you okay?” he asks, frowning at the look of hesitation on Bruce’s face.
“You didn’t have to stay.” he mumbles, not looking Clark in the eye, while putting more and more distance between them. But Clark is having none of that as he sits up, pulls Bruce against his chest, hands resting across Bruce’s waist, his head on the middle of Bruce’s back.
“B. I wanted to stay.”
“I was embarrassing. And unprofessional”
“You were cute, and — Don’t look at me like that— I’m allowed to think you are, plus it’s just a fact.”
“Batman is not cute.” he grumbles
“Hmmm, maybe not, but Bruce is.”
“I can feel you smiling.”
“So what if I am, I’m snuggling with my— with you and I’m a happy camper, sue me.” Clark almost slips, but thinks he catches himself in time
“I knew you were a boy scout.” Bruce states smugly
“Oh my Rao, I’ve told you so many times I was never a boy scout!"
“I know, I just like teasing you, also don’t think I missed that — I’m your what?” Bruce questions, an eyebrow raised.
Damn it
“I was hoping you didn’t catch that” he mumbles.
“I’m Batman Clark, I never miss anything.” Bruce states with a teasing grin on his face.
Bruce escapes his arms— much to his dismay— turns around, and straddles Clark. He makes an effort not to blush at the proximity, and stiffens, as Bruce’s hands cup his cheeks and lift his gaze to meet Bruce’s eyes.
“Kal, what am I to you?” Expression soft, but serious.
“You’re my best friend, of course.”
“Yes, but is that all?” Bruce asks pointedly, forcing Clark’s gaze to remain on him, and as much as Clark wants to deny it, to shy away, for fear of being rejected, but more than that, he didn’t know when an opportunity like this would come again. Would it be worth the risk? Yes, his friendship with Bruce would be changed forever, but what if it could be the best kind of change? The kind of change that he has only dreamed about.
Deciding to take this chance he answers him,
“No,” Clark, now looking at him, states, taking a deep breath before potentially jeopardizing something—someone he holds so dear to his heart, for the chance to hold him in his arms.
“No, you’re not just a friend to me, you never have been. I met you and saw a brave man who didn’t have the protection of invulnerability or powers, and puts his life on the line every single day despite that for the city he loves so much, and all I could feel is awe. And then, over the years, I got to know you. I got to know the Bruce behind the mask before I even saw your face, I got to know your heart over your brilliant mind that I grew to love just as much.” At the word love, Bruce whose eyes widen at Clark’s confession, his smile growing softly at the raw words that Clark professed, so Clark takes a second to kiss just just on the edge of his lips so he can start again.
“There is no part of you that I could not love, your stubbornness shows your dedication to Gotham, your insistence of training for the league shows your protectiveness of the people around you, and your mind—Rao, your mind Bruce is fast, and brilliant, your trust is a gift that I won’t ever take for granted, and I swear to you, your love is a gift that I have only dreamed of but am willing to earn every day.” Clark stops, if only to give him some time to breathe, to not overwhelm him, and gather his thoughts.
The silence lasts, and Clark can’t help but panic at the thought that he’s gone too far. Fuck. Maybe Bruce was looking more for a friends-with-benefits situation? Maybe he was just being his detective self and wanted to see what he could get out of Clark? Oh Rao, what if Bruce was just gauging his reaction and never even—
His panic-ridden thoughts were knocked away by the crushing feel of Bruce’s lips on his, and suddenly he couldn’t think of anything else as he opened his lips to Bruce’s, grabbing his hip, and back, trying to pull Bruce ever closer. Holding him like this, feeling Bruce this close, makes it all worth it, makes the risk of losing him feel like a distant memory.
Even as Bruce pulls back, if only to breathe, he holds Clark’s face with both hands bringing their foreheads together, just breathing, enjoying the closeness neither of them thought they could have, “Clark… if you think for a second that I could walk away from you, “ Bruce shakes his head “How could I walk away from you?” he asks earnestly.
“You wear your heart on your sleeve, and that courage makes you more brave than I ever have been, and while I can’t promise I’ll always be vocal about it, Clark you have to know I love you too.” Finishing his confession with a whisper, like he’s afraid to admit it, to make it real.
Clark presses another kiss on his temple, letting them soak each other in with the knowledge that this won’t be the last time, they’re not on a time limit. They can enjoy each other’s company without the fear of an expiration date. And most importantly? They can learn to love each other in ways the both of them have only dreamed.
They can worry about labels, their jobs, both in and out of the hero community, and their future later. But right now? There’s nowhere Clark would rather be than right here.
…
“Hey, what happened to my bagel?”