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

Entry tags:

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Bruce snorted at the remark and stretched his legs out in front of him, leaned back and deliberately made slight contact with Clark. "I hate it when you say things like that." It wasn't really a casual complaint, it certainly wasn't a snap or irritation or correction. Just casually mentioning.

"I try not to, but it slips out occasionally. Side effect of--" that got a sideways look because he'd almost slipped again. "Feelings. About you. And your physical appearance."

Stop being gorgeous and wonderful and he'll stop looking at you like the sun itself, Bruce.

He snorted again, this time even more derisively. Not about feelings but the rest of it. "You're either biased or blind." He was going with biased. He leaned slightly against Clark, anyway, as a short-cut to showing he was joking.

"If you're going to spend time here - or I am, or we are - we should think about stocking it properly with food." And first aid supplies. "All that's here now is alcohol - and take-out menus."

He looked over at Bruce, gave him a good long look up and down, and flat out snorted. No, Bruce. Just no. You're gorgeous. Objectively gorgeous. Physical perfection with clear blue eyes and perfect hair (whether it's styled or not, he feels) and a face that has and should be painted for hanging on walls.

"Only if you are," was all he's got for a response. Then he breathed out.

"I could take a trip down to the supermarket, get a few essentials in here. If I come here to use the kitchen, I'll probably be fine to stop at the store on my way."

This was apparently something they weren't going to move on from because they were stubborn. "You're Superman. You are literally perfect, Clark, at least physically. I'm human, middle aged, and look exactly as though I've gone several rounds with a gun and flame torch wielding tiger."

He wasn't really heated about it, just... stubborn.

"I don't know how important it is tonight. Are we going back to the Manor or staying here?"

"And the one of us with super senses thinks you're objectively gorgeous," was Clark's business-tone answer. Because he was also stubborn. And also kind of a jerk sometimes to very select people in very select ways. It's a sign of love, Bruce. Really.

But the more important issue was what they were doing.

"I don't know. Did you want to start with things tonight, or were we content just... getting things set for the moment?"

"I think that if we intentionally go out of our way to schedule and plan," he could not believe he was saying this, "that we will block ourselves from accomplishing what we want, and will make things as stilted and awkward as lunch was."

Which wasn't to say he didn't have a plan, but Clark didn't need to know that.

Clark leaned back and scrubbed at his face for a moment before looking over at Bruce. Because he knew Bruce. Because he did do things spontaneously but something like this--

"So you've got a plan but I'll find out when we get there so I don't feel nervous?"

...really, Bruce. Really. He does know you.

Clark really does. "I'll start something, if you don't. Eventually. After that, it's up to you."

A nod, but then he realizes something they'd completely forgotten. The most obvious and ridiculous thing and he almost looks like he wants to punch himself.

"Safeword?"

Bruce knows people use safewords, that they're a good idea, that they're a safety net. If it was for him he probably never would have mentioned it, but like the kryptonite it's a safety net that he sees mostly as being for Clark.

So. "Chill."

He nodded, because he could remember that. And would use it himself if he needed to stop. Because this is a trust fall on both sides of the coin, both of them extending out of their walls to do this.

"Are you going out tonight?"

But then he realizes there's a more important question.

"And are you going to stop with the tranquilizers now that we're trying an... alternative method?"

"I'll stop using them while we're together and in an environment that we have a reasonable amount of control over. I need, if nothing else, for you to be able to read my involuntary responses - I also need my reaction time and perception of pain not to be altered."

And then he paused and admitted. "If we're separated - probably not. And probably not for a while."

...there went the Superman arms. That was not the answer he was hoping for.

"Bruce, if we're not planning this..." a glance at him, "much, then there can't be drugs in your system. Honestly, your heartbeat itself is fine. I never, at any point, reacted violently to you having an accelerated heartrate. It's... it's unnecessary. And if we're going to test my limits, get me better, it's especially unnecessary."

"If I go out and get shot, get stabbed, someone sets a bomb off, and my heart-rate increases and you know I am in danger, what are you going to do, Clark?"

No judgement, just a question.

"The same thing I do every time that happens, Bruce," and God but he's tired, "which is start listening to the surrounding area, get a look at the situation from the sky, and assess whether or not you actually need assistance. Given my current situation, I would ping you on the communicator unless you happen to be unconscious, at which point I would step in to pull you out with a minimum of contact with anyone else."

Bruce was pretty tired, too, and he wanted to accept that - he really, really did. He didn't, really. He trusted Clark with himself, but trusting Clark not to lose his shit and kill someone who was attacking him and make this whole thing worse? He....

He just didn't, to tell the truth.

"Are you willing to let Dick handle any actual extraction? Drop him in, let him handle the situation and get me home?"

So he doesn't trust me. Well, that's fair. I don't trust me.

"As long as it doesn't involve radiation, toxic chemicals, or a gaping pit of fire," which he thought was pretty reasonable, "yes. I'm assuming you'll be asking him to stick around for a few days?"

Bruce wanted to trust Clark with this, but - well, Clark not being prepared to be Superman made it clear that being Superman to save Bruce's ass was a bad idea.

"If that will make you feel better, I will."

Would Dick even do it? Maybe. Who knew. He'd try.

"Maybe just for the first few days. He came here to help, after all."

And he made no bones about having listened in. Clark usually tried to keep his ears closed to other random conversations, but right now, anything around Bruce is going to get heard.

Of course Clark had listened in. Clark was listening to his heart all the time. "Then we'll try it, but if something goes awry, I'm going back to the drugs."

He wasn't making any bones bout that, either. If Clark did something it was going to set Clark back and that wasn't acceptable. It would also amount to him having committed murder by Superman and that was also not okay

He nodded, but--

"Honestly, Bruce, you know how careful I've been about everything. And I certainly haven't been thrilled at pushing my limits. I can handle this one. I handled you being out with Jason all night without so much as a broken pencil."

He'd never put a death on Bruce's conscience. He'd sooner sling some green kryptonite around his neck than do that.

"I know."

And he knew he should trust it. He also knew he wasn't... Look, it was more worry about Clark than himself.

He shut up there, the mental buts, and shut down his worries and concerns by leaning in and kissing Clark, suddenly and hard.

He leaned into the kiss, drank it in and gave as good as he got until Bruce needed to breathe and he let their foreheads rest against one another then, staying close.

He couldn't imagine how hard this was for Bruce. Bruce who was bending at every turn, putting every portion of his life on hold for him. Bruce who was putting himself in such danger, all the while the one he usually looked to for backup was the very mess he was trying to fix. He didn't know how well he'd handle such a thing, he really didn't. And he knew, tactically, what a nightmare this must be giving Bruce: Superman was an unstable element, which despite his logical consideration, was usually not at all the case.

"You have to know I'd be lost without you," he said quietly. "Thank you."

Bruce was having a far harder time with the bending and putting elements of his life on hold than the danger. He did, however, miss the stability that Clark usually provided.

In the end, though, in the very final analysis, it didn't matter that it was difficult. It mattered that he help stabilize Clark. It mattered that the world have Superman, too, but that was secondary in his priorities.

He had decided he was going to help Clark and he was going to help Clark.

He responded to the thank you in typical fashion. He leaned forward, kissed softly again for a moment, then growled and bit him.

for knightbynight: For now and hereafter...

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject