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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He considered where he was, how much impact he could possibly be making, and then looked at the keyboard thoughtfully. He hadn't thought about it since he had a tendency to simply filter noises out once they became regular enough (with obvious exceptions) but--

"Would it be better if I bring an interface from the Fortress down? Your keyboards are a bit... well, loud to use."

"They aren't actually loud. They're loud when someone else is using them against what would otherwise be near silence." Difference. "Bring the interface down if you want and are willing - or don't since you're nearly finished with the job and while you're fuel efficient it's still a heck of a trip for what amounts to a keyboard."

He was going to be reasonable.

He was not going to tell Clark he should also stop breathing, moving, and possibly existing within 20 feet of him. It wasn't that bad, yet.

"But I might as well go get it if I'm going to be down here occasionally," he pointed out with a spread of his hands.

"Won't take but a minute."

Which was when he disappeared.

Bruce didn't get a chance to object to 'down here occasionally'. Instead he looked hopelessly around his cave for a moment and then bolted upstairs and into the Mansion.

He actually left his work on the table.

He kept bolting until he was at Jason's door, where he knocked loudly so as to not interrupt, frankly, masturbation sessions likely to be happening in any teenager's room.

He didn't wait for the answer, either. "Get dressed and get downstairs, fast. We're leaving early."

Edited 2015-12-02 22:08 (UTC)

Jason had been working on his stupid homework, thank you very much. So the second Bruce tells him they're leaving early, he's moving.

"Guess the honeymoon's over..." he muttered with a low chuckle to himself.

"If by over you mean that if I don't get out of here right now I'm going to find a way to use a whole rainbow of kryptonite to stuff him in a trunk and throw him off a pier, yes, it's over."

He couldn't even object to Jason's remark right now. The kid's not 8, Clark isn't his father, and if Jason doesn't know Bruce has a limited capacity for togetherness and company, Jason's an idiot. Jason is not an idiot.

Meanwhile while Jason's moving so is Bruce and it's right back downstairs as fast as he can manage, and heading for his uniform. With the sort of haste usually reserved for saving Clark.

That was exactly what he meant and it gave him a visceral little thrill that whatever weird thing that was between the two of them now, the big blue boyscout wasn't allowed here. Patrol was for him and Bruce. Gotham was theirs.

Clark, for his part, was floating within the caves on his way into the main chamber, waiting for them to leave.

...he loved Bruce, he really did. But he'd start looking for a good spot to work and, if that didn't work, possibly a few nice apartments in Gotham.

Bruce loved Clark, too. He'd be just fine sharing the Manor with him, as long as they kept their own rooms and used them from time to time. He'd be okay with Clark in the cave when it was a combined project.

But he needed more space than he'd previously realized to work, and he absolutely needed the time with Jason - and just Jason - for all their relationship was screwed up.

He knew Clark should have been back by now, knew he was probably listening in somewhere, and he knew he was going to address this more maturely when he got back but first he took his adopted kid and went out into the night to have some space, some time with Jason, and to stop some crime.

By the time Bruce and Jason were back, Bruce would find Clark in his room with his familiar old laptop, working on an editorial on the state of medicine in the United States compared to his 'treatment' in Europe.

...it was something to do.

Bruce obviously got out of uniform, took a shower and got dressed before he went looking for Clark, and lightly knocked on his door. He wasn't about to talk about needing space and invade Clark's.

Jason had gone to pass out, and his behavior on patrol had been significantly better. Whether that was because he'd gotten the satisfaction of Bruce wanting to get away from Clark, or he'd enjoyed the time playing video games was hard to say, but it was definitely better.

Clark, for his part, pulled his hands away from the keyboard before looking over at the door.

"Come on in, Bruce," because who else would be knocking at this hour?

Bruce would take it, regardless of cause, because however inept he was at expressing it he did love Jason.

He let himself into Clark's room and closed the door carefully behind him. "I owe you and explanation and an apology."

He leaned back a little further and held up a finger.

"You were about three seconds from chucking a batarang at my head or, alternately, sticking an icepick in your ear," he counted off, "and all this time playing house with me got under your skin all at once and you needed to go out. Apology unnecessary."

He gave him a wry little grin.

"I'll accept a good morning kiss before you go to pass out for a couple of hours, though."

"Clark, if I deliberately seek you out to apologize to you, you do not get to preempt the apology and send me to bed." He was much more relaxed. He was still tired, certainly, but more relaxed and therefore his exasperation wasn't a flat out snap. "I will go to bed once we've discussed this."

"All right," and he tucked up his hands behind his head before giving Bruce an expectant look. Don't look at him, Bruce. He was just waiting for when it'd happen.

"You are infuriating." It was said fondly enough, really, or at least with no overt heat. "You can't work in the cave. You don't need to move out -" Because he knew Clark. "But I can't work with you down there."

"It's one of my finer qualities," he said amiably as he turned a crooked little sunshine smile on Bruce, "and I think I can live with that. What with the palatial room I happen to be sitting in now."

He tilted his head thoughtfully.

"Though I do like helping you with coding. Do you think I could get a wired hookup up here? Maybe through an encrypted relay, if you're worried about security."

Bruce snorted at reference to palatial. "Palatial is going to be what drives you to snappishness, if it isn't relieved." No, not exactly that, but the being catered to and cared for the way Alfred tended to might eventually create an issue.

He moved to sit in an arm chair and considered then shrugged. "I think we can handle the security of that arrangement easily enough. We'll try it and see how it goes. Realistically it shouldn't be different than some of the other work we've done together, remotely, over the years."

A pause, and then: "You're handling this well."

He breathed in deep before turning the chair a little to face his laptop again.

"Do you mean the new living arrangements, the fact that you fled the house like you were on fire, or the fact that you don't want me in the cave?"

And his tone remained mild and matter-of-fact the whole time. The only point at which it was clear (to Bruce, very few others would notice it) that he was annoyed was the mention of fleeing the house. One finger tapped the desk then just loud enough to be heard.

Ah-ha. There it was - not just the single tap of Clark's finger, but the difference in his wording around having run away. Like he was on fire, instead of simple fact. Extra words, extra imagery, metaphor even, of a sort. Less functional, more evocative, and, yes, glaring enough in the difference to give away feeling.

"All three, but it seems you're handling the first and last markedly better than the one in the middle. Why?" Could he get more pointed with that question? Not exactly, but he could sure as fuck dig in, in his quest to get an answer.

And very, very likely would.

"You could have said something earlier," and some of the ease was gone from his voice, though he wasn't quite to 'angry'.

"I don't..." he couldn't help his eyes flicking around the room he was in right now, an acknowledgement of exactly whose home this actually was, "I don't like thinking I chased you out of your own space."

He sat up a little further.

"I'm a little twitchy. Not a four year old. If something I'm doing is bothering you, or my presence is causing you... whatever it causes you, you can talk to me like an adult. I'm not going to--" and one hand flicked out in annoyance, fingers splaying through the air to gesture to-- "frankly, I don't even know what you thought I'd do. But if you genuinely think I'm so fragile that I can't take a request for some peace and quiet, then there's a much bigger problem."

That was progress - of some sort - but there was also a lot there that he wanted to address and some things he just plain wanted to prod, the way small children and the odd jerk saw a nasty bruise and responded by shoving their thumb in and commenting on how painful it looked.

"This is your home as much as mine," he said, flatly. "The cave is my space, but what's above it is yours, Alfred's and Jason's all as much as it is mine." Get the fuck over that, Clark, said his lack of tone.

"I should have said something before I left, but frankly at that point the only real impulse I had involved taking that keyboard and shoving it down your throat. You may be better, but I don't think is an encounter that would have gone well." Still flat.

And not addressing that he could and should have addressed it before his impulse was violent.

That's all right. Clark had that covered.

"And the reason that wasn't addressed during the several hours before that point?"

He wasn't even touching the issue of housing. He'd asked, Bruce had given, but that didn't mean there wasn't going to be an adjustment period. Wait till the first time a redblue blur got between Bruce and a hail of bullets.

They both had their issues in letting the other one help. The request to move in had not been an easy one to make, even if it felt like the right one.

There were going to be fireworks the first time a red and blue blur got between Bruce and a hail of bullets. There might even be actual explosions and property damage.

"Because I thought I could handle it. I should have been able to handle it." Also he'd been trying to be nice to Clark.

"In the future," because he didn't want to say 'next time' because hopefully, there wouldn't be a next time. Hopefully, they could be adults in the future.

~~Let's not kid ourselves.~~

"If something I'm doing is bothering you, I'd rather know about it. Otherwise, I'm going to start worrying I'm bothering you any time I catch your biometrics elevating."

for knightbynight: For now and hereafter...

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