He breathed in deep and slow and nodded, accepting that, and tried to find the words to say things properly. Words had become less familiar the last few weeks, talking less automatic. He might be there, but he was still rough around the edges.

"Superman belongs in Metropolis. He'll always belong in Metropolis," he said with a deep breath in. "But I think... Clark Kent should move to Gotham. After whatever he was doing..." and he waved a hand because he'd been far too preoccupied between saving the world and everything else to come up with what in the living hell his alter ego would have been doing, "wherever-"

He swallowed and tipped his head up finally to look Bruce firmly in the face.

"I think Clark Kent realized what's important in life. So..." he lifted his chin further, just enough, "if you can stand to have me here, I'd happily take a room. It's not as if we can't avoid one another if we need to. If you can't, I'd... like some help in getting an apartment. I'll manage something with the Gotham Gazette even if I have to pander Pulitzer bait at them for weeks. I'm not too proud for it."

His hands ran along Bruce's shoulders, and his eyes flicked there, unsure.

"So... can I have that?"