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]

He looked down at Bruce and rolled his eyes a little as he carefully let his hands sink into Bruce's hair.

"I know I don't have to."

[knightbynight]

Bruce kept his eyes open and intently, sharply, watchfully on Clark. He did not, however, utter a single syllable of protest for the hands in his hair.

"Then rephrase it as a question. I'm staying here tonight. What are you doing?"

[stands_for_hope]

"Staying here tonight," Clark said easily enough, smiling down at him. This was... nice. And easy. He was warming to the space entirely apart from what they'd come here for.

[knightbynight]

Good. Because warming to the space separately was the reason Bruce was sprawled on Clark's lap and the reason that he had opted to spend the night himself.

...As a bid to Clark warming to and relaxing within it.

"Take-out, or grocery run?" he asked, easily.

[stands_for_hope]

"I don't know," he admitted with a sideways look over towards the kitchen area. "It's a beautiful kitchen. Then again, I could certainly do with a bit of take out."

He looked down at Bruce again, his hands continually moving in light scritches and strokes.

"Do you have a preference?"

[knightbynight]

"I'll have some basic groceries delivered along with a take-out meal." It was a calculated decision. A relaxing, low key night and then Clark could cook in the morning or if he wanted and continue to make himself feel comfortable in the space.

And keep feeling more at ease within it, Bruce hoped. Normalize it, separate it from being a 'sex crib' or something... unsavory.

[stands_for_hope]

Clark couldn't help leaning down to kiss him lightly on the lips. Bruce really was... incredible. So incredibly sweet sometimes.

He wouldn't voice that sentiment since it would make him cranky, but he could think it.

"Perfect. How does Thai sound?"

[knightbynight]

"Xỳāng nī̂," Bruce said, completely deadpan.

Then he shifted around to fetch his phone from his pocket and hand it up to Clark. "You order that, I'll use the landline to order groceries."

Yes, he was sweet all right. He was not being sweet. He was being manipulative.

[stands_for_hope]

It's only manipulative if the person being 'manipulated' doesn't realize it. And Clark is well aware that Bruce is trying to make him comfortable, make him feel better, make him feel safe and good.

And it's sweet.

"You in a curry mood or something more complicated?"

[knightbynight]

"Surprise me." He sits up and swings his legs around and heads off to make the grocery order. Which, yes, he is fully capable of doing a good job of, particularly when it relates to a single meal.

[stands_for_hope]

Batman can do anything. But he has to want to do it well.

Clark, for his part, was good enough at ordering Thai to get what they might want. Then he started thoughtfully floating through the apartment, getting a feel for the space.

[knightbynight]

Bruce turned his head slightly toward Clark to keep an eye on the floating, but mostly stayed out of the way, made his order for groceries, called Alfred to let him know that he would be staying out with Clark, checked on Jason, did a quick new set of alerts for his phone and then stuck his head into where Clark was.

"I'm going down to pick up our deliveries. I'll be back within half an hour.

[stands_for_hope]

"I love the high ceiling here," Clark noted with a little smile before shaking off some of his relaxation to nod over at Bruce.

"I'll be here."

[knightbynight]

Bruce went out and was gone for right about that half hour before he came back with grocery bags in one hand and takeout ones in the other. He had to kick the door shut behind him, but he carried it all into the kitchen to unload.

"This place always reminded me a bit of you."

[stands_for_hope]

Clark was floating in the main area, stretched out as far as he could go for a moment before turning and smiling down at Bruce. Then he was gliding down to the ground, feet touching the carpet beside Bruce to lean in and kiss his cheek before helping with the groceries.

[knightbynight]

Bruce twitched the slightest bit in confusion at the kiss on the cheek, but then silently went to work with Clark to put away bread, milk, eggs, butter, orange juice, yogurt, and other similar, basic, breakfast things.

Then he started unpacking their dinner.

Clark wanted quiet, god knew Bruce had no issues with it.

[stands_for_hope]

Clark didn't need much else but what was there: quiet, Bruce, good food to eat, pleasant plans for the future...

They were here for reasons that were complicated around what they were doing here, and they were both still... not entirely okay. But right now, right here, it felt okay. Not like they were covering up or faking or not dealing with it. Just a moment of peace in a terrible situation.

[knightbynight]

Bruce plated the food, handed Clark his and settled down to eat. After food was gone, he found a low pressure, quiet, movie on television and spent a quiet, relaxing evening with Clark.

That was followed by an early night and Bruce actually waking up at a reasonable hour, still lightly tangled around Clark. Less grump than usual, but also a vague sort of restlessness from having had too much sleep and downtime.

Well, too much by his standards.

[stands_for_hope]

Clark was awake as Bruce woke up, and his hands ran over Bruce's shoulders and one hand into his hair.

"I feel..."

His voice was quiet.

"I feel like you need what we originally came here for. Am I wrong?"

[knightbynight]

Bruce had just woken up, but he was already somewhat tense from the second Clark touched him - before that, even - he woke up somewhat tense.

He tensed up more at the question.

"Is it going to help you?" He had an objective with all of this, even agreeing to... this thing with Clark. It was not to make Clark worse.

[stands_for_hope]

He nodded slowly.

Watching Bruce strain himself, watching Bruce stretch himself in a dozen different directions... he could feel it. He could see it. And it was, in a way, a strain on him as well. Being able to grapple with it, dealing with it, being trusted with his strength and his abilities--

"Yes," because he had a feeling Bruce needed to hear him.

[knightbynight]

Bruce wasn't sure he was capable of saying yes. He had a feeling he needed to be able to verbalize it, so he - made himself in spite of the feeling that he probably couldn't.

But "Yes" was literally all he said, before he leaned in and kissed Clark - hard, and with teeth. Like the instinct was still just to push buttons to try and make it happen, instead of just letting it.

But... he'd made sure first aid supplies came in last night. So he was aware.

[stands_for_hope]

Clark kissed him back just as rough, just as hard, but he could recognize the opening volley for what it was.

That was why he turned and started pressing Bruce into the mattress. Taking and taking and taking until he felt it was the right moment.

That was when his hand went around Bruce's throat.

"Now."

[knightbynight]

Bruce realized in the moment that Clark was pushing him back that he didn't know what he was supposed to do here. When he pushed buttons to make things happen - or when it just happened by unspoken agreement and it wasn't someone he loved - he knew how to do it.

With those new factors in play, he didn't. Did he just fall back? Did he resist? Did he fight with Clark about it? Would that turn Clark off? Would that be the opposite of helping Clark? Those barely scratched the surface of what went on his brain during period between Clark returning the kiss and Bruce's back hitting the mattress.

Ultimately, he was so busy with the gears in his mind turning that he didn't resist at all. When the hand went to his throat he did. Sort of - he reached up and grabbed at Clark's wrist instinctively, and he snarled. Not fear, though, no just arousal and need, tangled up with the instinct to fight anyone who had him in that position.

And he ... was still trying to find answers. Doing would probably provide them but he was watching the hell out of Clark. Not out of mistrust but because he desperately wanted to be helping Clark - or for at least this not to damage him.

[stands_for_hope]

For the first time since he'd come back, Clark was utterly calm. He had definite goals, definite rules. There would be no interruptions, nothing unexpected. Nothing he didn't utterly know and understand.

"Struggle if you want."

And his tone made it clear that he wouldn't be moved. The choice to act against him had consequences, his own strength worked against him when put against an immovable object.

"And the kryptonite is in the kitchen cabinet nearest to the entrance to the kitchen, farthest from the stove. It's in a lead box with a simple clasp."

And Bruce was lifted from the bed, braced with his other hand to prevent so much as a bruise.