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The waiter leads Azami to the corner of the café where there are no windows, and he can’t be seen or recognized. The tall man that’s been waiting for him looks at him and smiles politely. Azami has never seen eyes so blue. There is a soft curl falling on his forehead.
The man stands up and shakes his hand, speaking in English. The only thing Azami can make out is that his name is Clark Kent. When they sit down across from each other, Clark hands him an earpiece. Although a veteran like Azami should know better, the man seems trustworthy enough, and he places it in his ear.
Clark’s words get translated in real time in Azami’s ear, “Can you understand me?”
“Yes, I can. Did you know that your ex-boyfriend is fucking my ex-boyfriend?” The reporter turns bright red and looks around. It’s just the two of them on this side of the café, yet he seems to be looking for a possible interceptor.
He asks, tugging at his collar out of nervousness, “Can you say that again? I think it’s translating wrong.” He wishes it was translating wrong.
“It’s not. You’re in Japan looking for that bat freak, and I need Shiba to come home.” Clark’s cheeks are a bit red as he adjusts his glasses. Maybe he’s not used to people seeing right through him. “I think they’re in Gotham. How can we change that?”
“He’s back in Gotham already?” Clark frowns. His eyes wander down to the table, and it looks like he’s talking to himself. “He wasn’t even here for three days. Darn it. I flew all the way over here for nothing.”
Azami tells him, “I think he came to pick up Shiba and leave.” He waves away the approaching waiter with his hand and an unintentional glare that might’ve startled them. The situation is making him angry all over again. “I can’t stand rich Americans.” Clark is a journalist, so he probably doesn’t take offense to that. “And honestly, neither can Shiba, so I’m not sure why they even get together.” Get together as if they’re just going to have a cup of coffee and chat. Azami’s hands are each in a fist.
Clark asks, maybe pretending that he doesn’t care and he’s more chill about this than Azami ever could be, “Why do you care who your ex-boyfriend is with?”
“You’re in Japan looking for yours,” Azami throws back in his face.
Clark purses his lips. “Work emergency.”
“It couldn’t be an email?” Azami studies his expressions.
“No.” He looks through his glasses at Azami as if trying to figure him out, too, but he losing that staring contest and looks up at the ceiling instead. Bingo.
Azami whispers with a smile, “You play dress up, too.” Like a good journalist, Clark knows when not to make a comment.
“How do you even know about Bruce? Did your ex-boyfriend tell you?” He doesn’t seem thrilled to have been caught up in this situation, but maybe he thinks Azami is trustworthy as well.
“I figured it out on my own,” Azami admits. “We don’t talk about the people in between each other.”
Clark asks, “So you stalk the people in between instead?”
“I research.” Azami rolls his eyes. “But this is urgent. He has our friend’s son with him, so I need to get him back to Japan before our friend realizes they’re not even in Tokyo anymore.”
“So.” Clark tilts his head, trying to be more assertive with his eye contact now. “You’re doing all of this for the benefit of a child and not just some jealous vendetta?” He’s smiling, dimples poking out. Bruce Wayne has good taste in men he’ll give him that one.
Azami asks him, “Would you want your child in Gotham with someone who doesn’t know English?”
“Okay, yeah.” Clark seems to understand Azami’s perspective, but he’s still smiley. “I’ll see what I can do, uh. What’s your name?” He seems a bit embarrassed that he didn’t ask beforehand. Azami didn’t plan on telling him in the first place.
“Azami.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Thistle?” Azami shakes his head. The earpiece translated it. He leans forward over the table and takes the earpiece out of Clark’s ear. He gets rosy in the face quite easily.
“Azami,” he repeats, slower and sweeter. He rests his hand on Clark’s firm shoulder. He feels a bit tense under his hand, but he doesn’t shrug him off. He looks at Azami almost in awe.
Clark says it back in a whisper, “Azami.”
His name coming from his lips makes him smile. Clark radiates a lot of heat, and it gathers at Azami’s palm. He experiments and leans in a bit, and Clark doesn’t jump back. Instead, he looks at him a bit curiously, maybe with a little bit of newly born hope.
Azami places the earpiece back in Clark’s ear, watching how he lightly curves towards the barely there touch of his fingers. When he’s done, he leans in again and kisses him briefly, chaste and sweet despite feeling so sour on the inside. Clark kissing back eases the bitterness he carries, turning it into something Azami can only describe as… cute. Like the first kiss between crushing teenagers.
But they’re not teenagers, they’re adults who have to save the world. And suddenly Azami can understand what Tougo Shiba and Bruce Wayne have in common.
Azami parts from the kiss and says, “Now we’re even with them,” before leaving Clark buzzed in the café corner, alone with all the earpieces now rendered useless.