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It was a normal day at the office when Peter came to Neal and said that someone from The Daily Planet was coming to the office for an interview about the last case they'd worked on.
That case wasn't such a big deal to warrant someone coming all the way from Metropolis. All they’d done was recover a pair of paintings that a thief and forger had worked together to steal from the Museum of Metropolis. Dick couldn't avoid the tension that ran up through his body of anticipation for what those words make him feel. He forced himself to relax. He glanced over at Peter to see if he’d noticed, but Peter didn’t say anything, so he probably hadn’t.
That had been a few hours ago, and the journalist was supposed to arrive any second now. Dick had his fingers crossed, hoping that the person who was going to walk into the bullpen wouldn’t know him. Or at least if it is someone that knew him they would act like they didn’t.
He wasn't expecting Clark to walk through the doors.
Dick froze, then groaned. "I'm so done," he muttered, burying his face in his hands, then let his head fall and hit the desk.
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Peter wouldn't say out loud but he was worried about Neal. Hevhad been fine at the start of the day, but with the passing of time, he had become quieter and calmer than usual. His odd reaction to the journalist’s arrival didn’t explain anything and just worried him more. Peter was concerned and unfortunately he wasn't able to go and talk to Neal about it because it was his job to receive the reporter and answer his questions about the case.
"Hi, I'm Clark Kent from The Daily Planet. I'm here for the Succulenti case" the man, Clark, said, while Peter shook his hands. Peter also was glancing over the man to get a read on him and noticing how Clark was standing with a weird mix of shy and confident posture. Also -now that Peter was at his side- he noticed how tall and buff the journalist was.
Something weird was going on here. Peter could feel it in his gut and the resignation with which Neal approached just intensifies the feeling. Deciding that he’d act like everything was normal until he figured out what was going on, Peter introduced himself. "Is a pleasure to meet you, I’m Peter, I was in charge in that case, and this is Neal, our CI" Clark gave Neal an odd, almost appraising look, before turning his attention back to Peter.
Strange.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I have a few questions for you regarding the case, if you wouldn’t mind answering them."
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Well, it seemed like Dick should’ve had more faith in Clark. The man had just given him a look, then continued playing along like Clark hadn’t known him since Dick was nine years old.
He was thankful his cover hadn’t been blown; even if this mission wasn’t particularly important and he’d been undercover for much longer than usual, Dick didn’t want to say goodbye to Caffrey and the life that he’d made here.
Now, Dick hadn’t meant to blow his own cover, but there was a good explanation, and it was all the fault of Jones, not Dick being melodramatic, no matter what some people might say.
Clark had just been talking with Peter about the case for the interview while Neal, Diana and Jones were on the other side of the office when it happened.
"I'm curious; what kind of exercise does Clark do to look like that? I mean, a journalist should not look that good." Diana commented suddenly looking at Clark then back to her partners. She didn’t notice the way Kent shook his head a little when he heard her, but Peter and Neal did. Peter gave him a weird look, but he didn't stop talking.
"I'm curious too; he’s very tall and built," Jones agreed. Neal, who was at their side with a slight smile on his face, agreed absentmindedly. But he was thinking more about him and Superman, and his past tendency to use everything and everyone in sight as a jungle gym. "He lets me climb him all the time.” Remembering fondly the games where he’d run and jump on the superhero when he was little and being swung about.
Dick was so deep in his mind that he didn't notice he’d spoken aloud until Diana gasped scandalized and hissed a "Neal!" While Jones grumbled complaining. "C'mon Neal, I didn't want that image in my head! What happens in the bedroom should stay in the bedroom!"
Dicks mind immediately just nopes out of existence when he hears that, and no, nope, no thank you, he doesn't want to touch that mental image with a ten-meter pole. He would later blame his outburst on Jones and the traumatic mental picture he had inflicted on him. It was like a bomb went off in his brain. (sorry Jaybird)
“Eugh, no! Gross, Jones, he’s like my uncle! He helped my dad and Alf raise me! I didn’t mean ‘climb him’ like that, I meant it literally! Literally! I mean, yeah, I’ve obviously slept with men before, I’m married to an amazing man after all, but that’s not the point! I used to use everyone and everything as a jungle gym when I was a kid! B had to reinforce all the chandeliers in the Manor for the exact same reason!"
Dick only stopped rambling because of the big hand that landed on his shoulder and the sound of the soft voice of Clark cutting him off. "You need to calm down, Dick. I know how you feel and how you’re panicking, but you should stop now before you say more things that you don't want to share."
Dick was about to say something back on response when Peter’s growled resounded through the quiet office.
"Explain, now,"
Fuck.