stands_for_hope | for knightbynight: For now and hereafter...

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for knightbynight: For now and hereafter...

[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.

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Bruce looked down at Clark's ass and then back up at Clark, albeit the back of his head. "Do you want to specify what I'm cramming where, or can I make it up as I go along?"

That got a snort out of him and he didn't even turn. Instead, he shifted his hips back and forth.

"If that turned you on, feel free to make it up as you go along."

Which, he was well aware, had a 30% chance of getting sex and a 70% chance of Bruce coming up with something truly wicked and infuriating.

...he was honestly good with either right now.

Bruce considered that, then got up and slipped silently out of the room - the entire suite. He didn't leave the Manor, though, and if Clark was really curious was, in fact, going into the kitchen and opening the refrigerator.

Clark stayed on the bed. He was listening, of course, and he may have even glanced towards where he could hear Bruce's heartbeat with a bit of x-ray vision. But he stayed on the bed. His new bed. And let his eyes droop a little.

Bruce was gone for a good, long, while. He hoped he was gone long enough for Clark to at least doze off, but he had no intention of startling Clark with anything. So he puttered around in the kitchen for a while. He made himself a turkey sandwich and ate it, and even drank a glass of milk.

Then he rummaged around until he found an aerosol can and pie - the whole pie - stuck a fork in the pie and carried it all upstairs again.

Clark was starting to wake up as Bruce made his way up the stairs. His sleep cycles were much shorter now, literally only as long as he needed before he woke up, but he didn't move much once he was awake. Instead, he just reached over to his dresser and pulled one of the books he'd brought back with him over to read.

He had no idea why Bruce needed a pie, a fork, and an aerosol can, but he figured it'd be entertaining to find out.

The can was whipped cream and the fork was to eat the pie, Clark don't be ridiculous what else would he be doing with it?

Except he disappeared into Clark's closet with all of it, and merrily went about filling all of Clark's shoes with pie, whipped cream, or both.

When he came out there was a piece of pie in the pan left, and the fork. That, he handed to Clark. Then he got back in bed just like he hadn't done something he'd have considered immature in a 7 year old.

Clark reached up, took the pie, and took a bite... before blinking up at Bruce. It was clear he'd been about to say something very different from what he ended up saying.

"...this is my mother's pie."

Blink. Then a frown. Not a genuinely upset frown, just a frown. He glanced at the closet before turning back to Bruce.

"...and you're buying me new shoes."

Bruce shrugged, clearly unconcerned. "Eventually. Meanwhile, you're stuck with your slippers." Enjoy that. Or - "Maybe I'll buy you the bunny ones." Before anything like shoes appropriate for any fucking thing.

About the pie: "Alfred loves you." And: " What were you going to say before you changed your mind?"

Clark watched Bruce as he finished his pie, devouring every single delicious bite, before putting the tin and the fork down on the bed table. Then he stood up, walked over to the closet, and pulled out the shark slippers. They were slipped onto his feet, making it look like cartoon sharks were eating his legs, before he made his way back to the bed and slipped in beside Bruce.

"I was going to say that you're eight years old. And then I was going to say that I love you so I could see you make a face. And then you handed me pie."

Bruce didn't make much of a face at the slippers, but he did in fact make the face at Clark's passing declaration of loving him. That may or may not have been deliberate. He wasn't telling.

He stretched out on his side, propped on an elbow and watched Clark's face. Just because he liked looking at Clark. "I thought you might be upset if I wasted it all on your shoes."

"You thought I might be upset" he started, "if you used up all the pie filling up my shoes."

He turned from looking at Bruce to looking at the pie plate and back.

"You really do know me incredibly well."

And it was his special brand of insanity that he'd suffered from for almost ten years now that had him leaning in for a kiss.

Because his shoes were full of pie, but there was just so much to the act. To how they'd gotten there. To everything surrounding it.

Because Bruce was a man who was sometimes full of so much rage he didn't know what to do with himself, but with Clark, he could do something as childish and ridiculous as filling shoes with pie. He could smile and put those hands to work at soothing pain. He could lay on a bed and look at his partner and find some sort of satisfaction. Because Bruce had ruined all of his shoes, but he'd given him a room in his home and a place in his heart, a place in his family if all was told. Because Bruce had made sure that when he'd come home, he'd had a home to come to.

Rage. Guilt. Mistrust. Self-doubt. Self-loathing.

What Bruce felt looking at Clark now, after having pulled an absolutely ridiculous and immature stunt was at peace. There was still the pull of Gotham and the cave just under them, of going out and to vent the anger, allay the guilt and find punishment on the streets, sure, but in the moment? That pull was lessened. He was simply at ease and at rest with Clark.

He even more or less believed that Clark really could come home to him. He trusted, actively and completely, Clark, in a quietly undramatic way. By just being at rest with Clark.

He gave a short, sharp, laugh at Clark's remark. "I'd hope so!" By now? Yeah, he should damned well know Clark by now. That was all he did before his hand was on Clark's neck, fingers pressing lightly at his spine and returning the kiss.

That laughter was another one of those things that Clark was grateful for. Sharp, bright... honest. Honest amusement. It made something in his chest practically buzz every time he heard it and that delight transferred into the kiss.

He was still too twitchy by half, some portion of him having to fight off the idea that all of this would disappear when he woke up. But he could pull up the taste of Bruce's blood in his mouth, the feel of him under his hands. The scent of pie wafting out of the closet, another ridiculous move that made everything real for being so ridiculous that he could never imagine it.

He was still not well, but he was happy. And thankful. So very very thankful.

For a long time, present was mostly what Bruce was. A heavy weight against Clark, a demanding presence in the kiss and a solid hand against his side. Varying intensity in the kiss, from barely there and soft, to almost punishing and hard.

When he eased back it was ended with a sharp nip to Clark's lower lip.

All those variations? Not inconsistency. Making sure Clark didn't zone out.

"Come on." He stood up.

Clark could feel the deliberateness of it; Bruce's deliberation felt very different from wild abandon, and while he enjoyed the latter, the former had it's own effect on him. When Bruce rolled out of bed and stood up, he dragged himself with comical zombie slowness out until he could stand up as well, still in the shark slippers.

"Ah yes. My battle vs. your car's programming."

"You versus my car, me versus Jason and Gotham." He was much more up and ready, but tolerating Clark's sloweness and even enjoying it. "It shouldn't be a long night."

Because you scheduled villains and crisis.

Clark siiiiiighed before slinging his arm around Bruce's shoulders and leaning in to nuzzle at his shoulder, nip his ear, and draw back with a sigh to look more like a functional person.

"All right, down we go. What's the quickest way from here?"

"The same way we came up. I'm going to go get Jason, before I head down." He kissed Clark, quick and on the jaw before he disengaged. "We'll be there soon. Take your suit down with you."

Clark couldn't help the little smile that brought out before heading over to the closet. Then it was just a matter of getting them all together, boots and all, before following behind Bruce to head to the elevator.

Bruce had to go talk to Jason and convince him that, yeah, they were going out still and no, Clark wasn't and really come downstairs and stop being a pain in his ass. Bruce 'convincing' meant a lot of ordering, but he did get it done.

"We're leaving the car here," he said, once he was downstairs and about half-suited up - hadn't said a word between the two. "If you can get that taken care of, it'd be great, but for tonight we'll use the bike."

And be in by dawn.

Clark shrugged. "I'll see what I can get done." He glanced between Jason and Bruce and gave what he hoped was a warm smile; it just felt worried when he looked at Jason.

Which was why he turned to Bruce.

"Point me at what needs doing. And be careful tonight. Both of you."

Bruce fastened his gauntlets and took hold of the cowl, while Jason mostly just... scowled and sulked. "Everything you need is on that counter." He nodded - and it was also in a box. "Help yourself and if you can't find something, Alfred will know where it is."

Cowl on, and his voice instantly changed. Hell, his whole demeanor changed. "We'll be back by dawn."

Jason added: "Whatever" in response to the concern, but then they were both on the bike and out of there.

Clark just watched the two of them until they were out of the main exit. Then he turned to the counter and sat down to start working.

...programming was actually rather soothing for him. Enjoyable, and it tended to put him into a zen state of a sort.

Once he was done with the required tasks, he started to look into the programming further, see if there were any bugs or spots in the code that could be better documented. There wasn't much; Bruce was brilliant. But he was also smart enough not to reinvent the wheel and some of THOSE pieces needed maintenance.

...nevertheless, he saved a copy of the code that was just the requested changes before he ever started on that.

They came back in about an hour before dawn, smelling of Gotham, blood, and gunpowder, but both apparently in one piece. Jason was moving... more or less freely and with slightly less tension, Bruce possibly moving with more.

Jason didn't say anything, just headed back to change and shower, while Bruce started taking off armor in the main cave.

for knightbynight: For now and hereafter...

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