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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"You really aren't going to let me have my pride, are you?" He wasn't answering that question. It brought up too much of how he felt now, with Clark living with him. He was glad for that, especially in the aftermath of... what had happened.

But he was still... expecting the explosion. Resigned to it, seeing what they had as worth it, but waiting.

"Let's go play video games, Kent."

"Ooo, I'm demoted to 'Kent'," he noted with a snort as he started ambling after Bruce. His head tilted as he caught the sounds of Jason starting to fall out of bed.

"We might want to have some food in there with us. Lure down the unsuspecting teenager with breakfast."

"Keep pushing and I"ll keep demoting." He was -

He was Bruce. "There should be food ready and waiting for all of us, unless Alfred died in his sleep."

"And how do I get promoted again?" he asked with a glance over at Bruce. After all, if the food was handled than there wasn't much else to say about it. It was just one of those things he'd have to learn about as he got used to living here. The idea of someone who just... did things was still so odd to him. Or rather, he'd grown out of it many years ago when he'd moved out of the house. He wanted a meal, he went to the kitchen and put something together.

This was going to take a little adjustment.

Bruce shrugged at him. "I don't know, yet, but I'm sure you'll notice it when I start calling you something else." That was a decent barometer. He was also teasing. He touched Clark's back, right between his shoulder blades in recognition that food just being there might be weird, but mostly kept going.

And, yes, breakfast was there and waiting. Alfred wasn't, but food was.

"Just don't add my middle name in or I'll keep thinking I'm in real trouble," Clark warned as they started walking. Predictably, his shoulders dropped at the touch; it really was like a button Bruce could press. But the smell of breakfast also helped to sooth the slightly skittish Clark.

"One," he said as he started over towards the breakfast food, "this smells amazing. And two, I'm going to start thinking I ended up at Hogwarts if I don't actually see someone putting this stuff out soon."

"Then wake up earlier," Bruce said, with an utter lack of irony. "You don't expect him to really be waiting around like a house elf, do you?"

Shut up, yes, he'd read the fucking books. He moved to get plates for the food, though, and passed one over to Clark before starting to fill his own. It was apparently a breakfast day.

"Of course not," he said with a snort in reply. Shush your Ravenclaw face, Bruce. "But doesn't he eat? He could have stayed here and joined us."

He was part of the family, without a doubt. And they were kind of having a sort of family time thing. Clark didn't try to think about it too hard because then he'd start thinking of himself as an intruder.

"We slept in, Clark. I wouldn't have wanted him to wait around for us to decide to eat." He passed Clark a plate. "The good news is, our food is almost definitely not still piping hot and fresh from... whatever bit of kitchen equipment it came out of."

"I'm familiar with early risers versus people who sleep in," he pointed out with a chuckle and a shake of his head as he took the plate. "I was a teenager in a farm house once. It happened plenty of times."

He let out a sigh.

"Let's just say I'm looking forward to having a meal with the man at some point."

Then he pointed to the eggs.

"Pan," he provided. Helpful.

"You'll probably have to make arrangements with him for that. Or possibly take it up with Jason - he may be able to tell you more about when Alfred eats, and where."

Bruce was a little bit remote, yep. He also frowned at Clark's pointing. "Those are eggs, Clark." Not a pan.

Clark blinks. Then his eyes go flat. Then they go unflat because otherwise they wouldn't roll.

"One day, you're going to discover you're from Venus or something and I will be utterly unsurprised."

It's not really an accusation so much as fondness.

"I will be. I'm not nearly strong enough to come from a planet with that sort of gravity and I know for a fact that I need oxygen to live."

He didn't even miss a beat, just filled up his plate and sat down to eat a hell of a lot of protein.

Clark gave a huffy sort of grunt before sitting down beside him with his own very-full plate.

The huff said, in no uncertain terms, that Bruce had better stop making Clark want to kiss him if they're supposed to be eating and then entertaining a teenage boy.

Bruce did not smirk or smile just gave Clark a very, very flat look. A flat look that tried to say that he was not impressed by the snorting but was actually really just fond and expressing a desire to kiss back instead.

Then Jason shuffled in and managed to grab a bowl from a cupboard, milk from the fridge and went looking for the cereal.

"On the counter," Bruce told him.

Jason, eloquently, grunted at him.

It's a good thing they're all pretty fluent in grunting. Clark gave Jason a nod in greeting (since one did not get between a man and his breakfast, even with friendly chatter) and nudged Bruce with his leg in a gentle sort of way that was also quite fond.

Then there was food to eat.

Bruce gave Clark a puzzled look at the touch, trying to figure out what it meant he was supposed to be doing and then realizing the answer was nothing.

Then he just ate.

It was a very silent, but not awkward, breakfast. Because Jason was sleepy, Bruce was busy treating his meal like an objective to be accomplished and Clark wasn't stupid.

When they were all mostly done, Clark decided that it was safe enough to brave the minefield and tilt his head towards the entertainment system.

"So... Mario Kart?"

Bruce... was fully capable of engaging in family time, so once he'd picked up the dishes, cleaned them off and loaded them into the dishwasher (see, all the talk about being incompetent and unaware aside he could do this shit) he nodded.

"Lead the way, Kent. Let's see how long either of you can put up with losing."

Clark looked over at Jason to see how he felt about that, saw a grumpy and slightly surly look, and waggled his eyebrows at Bruce in a clear offer of a teamup. Jason had a tremendous capacity for grumpiness, especially when it came to Clark considering, but he'd decided to come down here. Might as well make the most of it. And if he got to jam a red shell up the night's ass, well...

Maybe he could stand Superman. Just a little.

Bruce stayed somewhat tense as they played, too aware of Jason to fully relax, but he did a good job of pretending. He sat cross-legged on the floor, played the game and actually chatted and made a point of being social with Jason as well as Clark, and kept being social no matter the reaction.

He didn't let anyone win, actually played the game to the best of his ability, but he was so, so doing something important here and so aware that he was that the slightest bit of edge stayed.

Jason - mattered, a lot.

They got to the point where Clark and Jason were actually trashtalking during races before Clark tossed the controller and let himself flop back onto the ground.

"Okay, I'm going to put that down before I push the button so hard it goes in permanently."

"Pu--" he glanced over at Bruce before changing it over to, "--ansy."

Clark threw a sock at him. Jason flailed at it like a normal kid his age before throwing it back.

Bruce shot Jason a sideways look, but it wasn't quite a glare and it stopped from getting any closer to one the second he corrected.

And he leaned back and almost, almost smiled and truly relaxed at the sock throwing. "I think that means the teenager wins?"

"Don't tell Luthor," Clark said with a scrub to his face. "He hasn't tried Mario Kart against me yet."

Which got a low snort out of Jason as he pushed himself to his feet. Clark looked up with a raised eyebrow, but Jason waved him off. Then he turned to Bruce, the question in his eyes and his nerves resolutely hidden away. No showing weakness now.

"We going out for patrol later?"

Bruce didn't answer immediately, but instead stopped to consider and to study Jason. Studied his expression, studied the way he was standing, eyes flicked down to his throat where Clark had grabbed him and just assessed the situation.

He came damned close to asking if Jason intended to push anyone off a roof if they did, but caught himself before he did. He was incompetent with his kids, but he wasn't completely stupid.

"Yes." There was something just a little bit warning in his tone, in spite of himself, though. "Unless you have other plans."

for knightbynight: For now and hereafter...

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