stands_for_hope | 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 found Clark's eyes, held them and said slowly and flatly: "You. Are. Not. A. Burden." And he would kick Clark's ass to prove that, if he needed to.

And Clark looked back, his own gaze sure but gentle. Gentle again in a way it hadn't been since he'd come back.

"I'll take your word for that."

It was a 'thank you' more than anything.

Clark being more like Clark was an enormous relief, but - "I'd rather you actually believed me, but I'll take what I can get."

Then again, maybe there was no but, since Bruce was clearly now willing to be just a little bit difficult with Clark.

"Good."

He glanced over at Bruce with a little smile.

"You can't tell me you wouldn't feel the same way if you were in the middle of something like this."

"I would, but you're not me and my tolerance for my bullshit is only so high even when it's coming from me." He smiled faintly back at Clark, though. "I like you more than I like me."

"Which just proves you have terrible taste."

But that was pure playful teasing.

"There was Talia." Which was the worst taste ever.

He made a genuine face at that.

"We're all allowed one terrible mistake in our lives..." he said 'generously.'

"Talia was the terrible mistake for several lifetimes." He stretched his neck and back out, felt the pull of the marks on his skin and settled back into it - and his skin - more comfortably.

"Ready to return to the outside world?"

...it was entirely unconscious but Clark actually let out a small growl at the mention of her name. Just a small one. And he looked just a little guilty about it.

Edited (OMG MY BRAINS) 2016-01-27 16:02 (UTC)

Bruce lifted his eyebrows at Clark. "That's more or less how I feel about it. Are you coming back to the Manor with me, or do you need more downtime?"

He shook his head and pushed himself up with a stretch.

"I'll come back to the manor, like I said. Spend the time with Dick. Give you some time out to get that good Gotham night air in your lungs."

...only mild sarcasm at the last there.

"Gotham air is like New York water. You know it's polluted and disgusting, but there's just something about it." Which meant that one final, harder, stretch and he walked over to Clark. "Let's fly."

Clark leaned down and took a firm kiss before he got his arms around Bruce.

Then the world was blurring again until it was very dark. The cave.

"It's just easier to come in this way from the city..."

Bruce tucked his face down, stood on Clark's feet and held on for the ride. He knew they were in the cave by the smell, the temperature and feel in the air even before he lifted his head to darkness.

"You realize Jason's going to need an explanation."

Relevant? Um. Not to the cave.

"As to why I'm better?" he asked with a glance over at Bruce as they separated.

"Or why you have marks on you?"

"Marks." Just that.

"Do you want to tell him the truth?"

"Are you actually insane? No."

He held up his hands and switched languages.

"Do you think you can keep it secret from him?"

"No. I think trying will make him think you're beating me against my will."

He barely even noticed the language shift.

"Then a version of the truth is our best option."

"I like rough sex, Clark obliges, butt out?" Wow that translated oddly in Kryptonian. He sounded mostly amused, though.

"Yes. If we lie and he finds out, there'll be a very deep break in trust. But if we admit there's a sexual component, he'll be a teenage boy about it."

AKA grossed out that people older than him were having sex.

"Fine, but I don't like it."

At all. Because he found it incredibly awkward and actually kind of inappropriate but... maybe he could strip it down even further and have Jason still recoil hard enough to leave it alone.

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