for knightbynight: For now and hereafter...

[stands_for_hope]

[some time after the events here]

Superman and Batman were partners in more than a work sense. Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent were an adorable (if mildly ridiculous) couple. Kal-El of Krypton and a man who defied any definition outside of the single letter 'B' made time on weekends, worked around world crises and teenage tempers, and occasionally fell into bed together when the stars aligned. Thankfully, they aligned relatively often.

Wayne Manor received a delivery of organic produce and baked goods once a week from a small, independent farm in the heartland. Lois Lane was a little less likely to agree with snide comments about the uselessness of Bruce Wayne, especially after seeing the utter madness that was Clark's desk after a few weeks. The texting habits of a certain blond teenager in Kansas rose sharply... and in parallel to that of a certain former street punk in Gotham.

Life was... well, it was good, even if it was also Life. Until it wasn't. Until everything changed.

They all had enemies, of course. But the problem with Superman's enemies was that they were coherent enough to decide to team up. And crazy enough to use the kind of weaponry that could make whole cars just vaporize into nothing.

Crazy enough to point that weapon at a somewhat-pinned Batman and a Wonder Woman who was digging him out from the rock. Crazy enough to point that weapon at Batman.

Bruce.

B.

Clark didn't even make the choice. His heart made it for him. The beam shot out of the Toyman's mechanical monstrosity and Clark flew, the pain of the beam itself nothing on the fact that he was leaving Bruce behind. That his vision of them as old men together would never happen. That he was leaving behind a world that needed him.

The guilt that, if it meant saving them, saving him, he didn't regret a thing.

Comments

[stands_for_hope]

Clark couldn't help it. That actually earned a laugh as he stepped in closer and got an arm around Bruce. And normally, that would be all, but he was too happy. The vessel had shrunk over his time away, and what would usually just be worth a smirking smile had him leaning in to nuzzle Bruce's hair once they were close and grinning.

"Remind me never to underestimate your brilliance at empty-headedness again," he said, making sure to get a good grip on him.

[knightbynight]

"I had no idea you ever had," he admitted, one corner of his mouth quirked up in vague amusement. Mostly, he held onto Clark while Clark was close, leaned back and looked at him quizzically. "Are we driving or flying?" He was a bit confused by the holding, actually.

[stands_for_hope]

"I was thinking flying, just to get it done quicker. That's also why I skipped the shoes," he explained. Then he gave Bruce a light squeeze.

"I figured this was a bit more dignified, since you're not injured at the moment." Bruises weren't 'injured' and there wasn't much to be done about them when it came to mitigating things for a flight. "But I can always scoop you up if you really prefer that."

[knightbynight]

The holding was really only confusing because Bruce hadn't been expecting Clark to want to fly. Since Clark did, Bruce was fine with it. In fact, he just outright stood on top of Clark's feet.

"Thank you for thinking of my dignity."

[stands_for_hope]

"If I didn't, you'd remind me," Clark said with a little grin as Bruce stood on his feet. "Just remember to tuck up against my shoulder so you don't get anything in your face."

[knightbynight]

"You just want a reason to have my face in your throat." Which wasn't quite where it would be unless he bent down or something, given their heights, and his shoes on Clark's feet, but he'd make it work.

He was mostly teasing about the griping, though. He was smart enough to prevent getting something in his eye at those kind of speeds.

[stands_for_hope]

"Always," Clark admitted. But he didn't hesitate much longer before they were suddenly moving through the air, keeping to speeds and heights that would keep just about anyone from noticing them as they made their way to Clark's apartment.

He took them straight to the fourth floor window, using the specialized latch he'd installed to open it from the outside and float them in at a much lower speed. He gave a light sniff as they made their way in and sighed, scrunching his nose just a little before landing and loosening his arm around Bruce.

[knightbynight]

Bruce kept his head tucked down and close, and his arms around Clark. The movement didn't bother him, nor the speed or height. He was so, so used to that sort of movement, even if he was usually in control of it, and trusted Clark so completely that there was just nothing but a relaxed sort of enjoyment from behind held. And some thrill from the wind in his hair and sensation of speed.

He moved away when Clark let him down, took a deep breath and watched his face. "Something dead in the walls or just from being closed up for so long?" He paused. "Refrigerator, maybe?" He could send cleaners in.

[stands_for_hope]

Clark's nose twitched a couple of times before he managed a small smile.

"Refridgerator and hamper. I'll take out the trash and throw the load of laundry in while we're here."

It would take a bit for him to pack up the most important of his belongings, after all. And that was what he was getting for the moment.

"You'll smell the 'fridge as soon as I open it," he warned as he stepped over towards the kitchen.

[knightbynight]

"Then for god's sake don't open it," Bruce said, all in a rush. "Take the whole thing to a landfill. It's a three hundred dollar appliance, if it were new. We'll replace it for your landlord and spare us both the experience."

Bruce didn't have Clark's nose. He wasn't overly prissy about scents. He had absolutely no intention of subjecting himself to that. He had less intention of subjecting Clark to it.

[stands_for_hope]

Clark looked genuinely nonplussed at the very idea of throwing out a refrigerator because there was rotted food within it, but he stopped himself moving forward and put his hands down.

"Are you sure?" was the best he could manage, though, "I can have it cleaned out and smelling like chemical orange at the worst in a minute or so. No need to waste a perfectly good appliance."

[knightbynight]

"Clark, you've just come back from literal hell. I'm not making you stick your head in an insulated box that reeks of rotten food. Throw out the appliance. We'll have it replaced."

He loved Clark, but sometimes that man - came from another world in a way that had nothing to do with planets.

[stands_for_hope]

His fingers curled against his palm for a moment before he breathed out and nodded. Then his eyes went red as he carefully sealed the edge of the 'fridge, blew it cold again, and turned back to Bruce.

"Lemme go get that laundry in. Hopefully, it'll be done by the time we head out."

[knightbynight]

Bruce waited until Clark turned back toward him, then stepped in and deliberately, intensely, slowly, kissed Clark. Deeply, passionately, lovingly, and with a lot of both feeling and arousal.

Then stepped back.

"Go do your laundry. Let me know where or if you want help."

[stands_for_hope]

Clark was a little surprised, but soon enough he was far too busy being kissed (and kissing back) to concern himself too much with it. Bruce was... beyond distracting. Bruce made the world small just by stepping into view.

"If you don't mind grabbing my laptop and packing that up?"

It was a rugged old thing, bought years ago and still alive mostly because Clark refused to let it die. It had been left, closed, on the desk near the window where he'd usually worked.

"Anything else you think I might want. You know me well enough."

Then he was heading for his room and the bathroom to get what they'd come for.

[knightbynight]

After seeing Clark come in, battered and scarred, Clark's eyes glowing red and that casual display of power were beautiful things to Bruce. He wasn't going to explain that, though. Instead he just went over to the desk to pack the laptop, and then searched through the room for personal things.

That meant books, photographs, anything that wasn't, basically, the furniture or fixtures. He did know Clark. He knew what mattered. But he also applied some of his own sensibilities and sentiment.

[stands_for_hope]

Given that Bruce had already had his run of the apartment, he'd know that the luggage was kept in the top of the front closet. He'd find that Clark had already grabbed one of the bags, but there was another two for him to pile things into.

Clark himself finished the laundry, ransacked the bathroom, did a tiny bit of high speed cleaning that he wasn't going to mention unless Bruce asked to leave the room at least liveable, then headed for the back closet. There were a few stupid little things he wanted to have with him that he needed to grab from there before they did a proper moveout sometime next week.

Then he remembered the kitchen and headed to find his pie bird. That had to come with him. Ma had gotten it for him when he'd first moved to Metropolis, so he could bake for himself properly, and it was one of the small, simple things that made the place home. If he was moving, the pie bird had to come with him.

"I was just wondering," Clark asked as he opened the drawer to grab the item in question, "but are we allowed in the kitchen? I can still cook and bake and things, right?"

[knightbynight]

The look Bruce gave Clark when he was asked that question was very 'deer in the headlights' - by any standard. There was a moment or two of silence while he parsed that, and then found his voice.

"I assume so?" Which was to say he wasn't sure of the answer. "I can't imagine Alfred kicking you out or forbidding it." He just... "It's never really come up, beyond reheating something when I convince him to take a trip somewhere."

[stands_for_hope]

"Well, at least he'll know someone's feeding you edible things when he decides to go on vacation," Clark noted as he grabbed a few other little bits and bobs. He assumed that the kitchen at Wayne Manor had every kind of cooking technology known to man, but he was reasonably certain that they didn't have his grandmother's pie plate.

[knightbynight]

"I'm sure he'll be relieved rather than forbid you muck about his kitchen. He might protest if you start moving things around or trying to 'help' him in there, but he's not going to mind if you use it." That wasn't how Alfred worked.

Often.

Usually.

With Clark.

"We should arrange for the Salvation Army to pick up here after we've finished removing what you want to keep."

[stands_for_hope]

"If I'm honest, it'll probably be ready for picking over once we leave today. I learned early to travel light," and there were a couple of other items from the kitchen, the living room, before he headed back to his bedroom to finish packing up.

[knightbynight]

Clark was starting to make Bruce a bit dizzy moving around. He'd done what he thought he should as far as grabbing items so he ultimately sat down and waited on Clark to be done.

[stands_for_hope]

Clark finished up just in time to put the laundry in the dryer before he made his way back to Bruce and slipped a hand lightly on his shoulder.

"I'll bring the two bags back to the house and come right back, all right?"

[knightbynight]

Bruce turned his head and bit Clark's wrist. Then looked up at him and said, "That's fine. I'll keep an ear on your laundry while you're gone. We can stay here long enough for it to finish, at least."

[stands_for_hope]

The bite got a warm grin out of Clark before he gave Bruce a firm squeeze and pulled away.

"Back in a few."

And with a soft gust of wind, Clark and the two bags were gone.