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“I miss your smell,” Bruce said mournfully, tucking his nose into Jason’s buzzed hair.
Dick nearly lost it at the expression on Jason’s face. He held it together even as Bruce pulled Jason further into his arms, squeezing him tight enough to make even a seasoned vigilante wince.
Jason didn’t wince. It seemed to be a point of pride for him. But the baffled expression persisted as he was snuggled on top of the medbay cot.
Considering he was over six feet tall, and near or above Bruce’s weight, it was slightly impressive how small Jason looked, curled on top of Bruce’s lap.
“What smell?” Tim asked, perched along the medbay wall. He’d been out with Bruce on patrol when they’d gotten dosed, and was still wearing his suit. Luckily, whatever was afflicting Bruce seemed to have missed him.
“Like newborns,” Bruce murmured, looking up with pupils the size of dinner plates, “New baby smell.”
Ah. That explained it. Dick shook his head, fighting off a fond smile. Of course Bruce would secretly love babies. It tracked.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Jason began, ignoring Dick’s warning look, “But you didn’t know me when I was a baby, B.”
Bruce’s response was to tighten his arms even further, pushing Jason face-first into his chestplate. “Shhhhhh.”
“You were probably a really cute baby, Jay,” Dick said, trying to keep things light. If Bruce got close to crying again, it was all over. “And twelve is still pretty young.”
Jason flipped him off, sneaking his hand around Bruce’s hold. Dick grinned.
“Very young,” Bruce murmured, glancing at Dick, “Babies, all of you.”
Dick felt a pang of sadness. He pasted on a smile for Bruce anyway, trying to keep things light. “Yeah?”
“You were so hurt, ” Bruce whispered, shifting slightly on the cot and taking Jason with him, “I slept outside your room every night, that first week. In case you woke up and needed me.”
Dick didn't know that. Was that really true? He’d have to ask Alfred later.
“You did a good job, B,” he said, ignoring the painful lump in his throat, “Right?”
“Yup,” Jason said, muffled against Bruce’s armor, “Real good, B.”
“You did,” Tim agreed, nodding sagely, “Dick’s right.”
Bruce perked up as his children all agreed, a smile bursting across his face. He released Jason, who sagged in his lap with a sigh.
“Jesus,” Jason said, half of his face imprinted with Bruce’s chestplate, “I couldn’t breathe, B.”
“You were fine,” Bruce shushed him, tenderly mussing the hair of one of Gotham’s most notorious vigilantes and crime lords, “I’m going to hug you again.”
Pure, unadulterated fear flashed through Jason’s eyes. Dick took pity on him, stepping forward.
“Why don’t you take the armor off first, B?” he asked, “Then you can hug Jay all you want.”
Bruce nodded, appeased by the emergence of such solid logic. He hit several hidden latches and clasps in sequence, and his chestplate detached, followed by the rest of his upper body armor a moment later.
“Thanks,” Jason said when it was shoved into his hands, chucking it on the medbay floor with little ceremony, “Maybe Tim can--”
Too late. Bruce’s arms circled around his second-eldest, dragging him back down into a hug. Jason choked on his protest as his head was tucked under the chin of one of the world’s most dangerous men.
“This makes me happy,” Bruce informed Dick over Jason’s mussed hair, “I miss hugging you boys.”
Dick felt another pang, like a hot poker in his throat. “We hug you, B.”
Were those tears? Oh no. Not again.
“Not enough,” Bruce said tremulously, eyes shining in the medbay lights, “I haven’t seen you all in weeks. Alfred says you don’t call…”
Fuck. That was probably true. The last time Dick had been over for dinner was…well, it didn’t bear repeating. He’d messaged with Bruce, like he knew Jason did, but only for cases.
“B,” Tim said, something dangerously close to regret beginning in his voice, “I--we--”
Bruce buried his face in Jason’s hair, squeezing even tighter around his second-eldest. “Shh. Shh.”
“I am shhing!” Jason protested, muffled, “I didn’t say anything!”
Dick turned to Tim, who was watching the proceedings with that look of his. “Any update on the toxin?”
“Not yet,” Tim replied, displeased, “The machine’s still running the sequence. We’ll find out soon.”
Hmm. At least Bruce’s condition was stable. Snuggling and tears aside.
“Aren’t you glad you weren’t the one to get a faceful?” Dick asked Tim, trying again to keep things light, “You could be spilling your guts about a million things right now.”
Tim shuddered. “Don’t remind me.”
“You know, I think he’s still trying to hold back,” Dick observed, watching Bruce squeeze Jason within an inch of his life, “Just a little.”
Tim hmmed, infinitely Bruce-like. “It’s like he’s drunk and high and loopy all at once. Even he would struggle with that.”
Clearly.
“If you’re sure you’re not dosed, I need you to ditch your armor,” Dick said, ignoring the glare Tim turned on him.
“Why?”
“Take a guess.”
Tim’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not getting hugged.”
“I really don’t think you have a choice.”
Tim became Bruce’s new victim with a minimal amount of protest. He was smaller and easier to maneuver, which seemed to appeal to Bruce’s sudden snuggling instincts.
Jason backed away from the cot as soon as Bruce was distracted, desperately trying to fix his hair in the reflection of the medbay windows.
“It’s fine,” Dick said, waving his hands away, “He might cry if you mess it up again.”
“He’s gonna cry no matter what,” Jason said, dropping his hands with a sigh, “He’s higher than a fucking kite.”
Dick rolled his eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“We should ask him about Clark.”
Oh no. Bad idea. Very bad idea.
“We are not doing that to him,” Dick hissed, “That is a huge invasion of his privacy. And Clark’s.”
Across the room, Bruce’s head perked up like a meerkat.
“Clark is coming?”
Oh no. Oh no.
Dick turned and punched Jason in the shoulder.
“Look what you did.”
Once the idea was in his head, Bruce was entirely fixated on Clark’s arrival. He was content to squeeze Tim while he waited, fully expecting Clark to waltz through the door any minute.
It was the happiest Dick had ever seen the man over the prospect of seeing someone not already in the family. And probably the happiest Bruce had ever looked, period.
The whole thing was very disconcerting if he thought about it too long.
Bruce could not be convinced that Clark was busy. This posed a significant problem.
Alfred came down to the Cave while Jason was surreptitiously retrieving Bruce’s League comm from his discarded armor. He paused in the doorway with his tray, giving Dick a look.
“I know,” Dick said, “But he cried when we said Clark wasn’t coming.”
Alfred sighed, entirely unsurprised by this.
“Of course he did.”
Clark showed up at the Cave twenty seconds after Dick’s SOS comm. He was wearing threadbare sweatpants and a t-shirt, hair wet like he’d just stepped out of the shower.
“Perfect,” Jason said, turning to Dick with a clap of his hands, “He’s already cuddly.”
Dick resisted the urge to facepalm. He was not going to admit defeat so soon in front of Superman. Not yet.
“Your comm said it was urgent,” Clark said in that calm, soothing voice of his, “Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” Dick said, holding up his hands, “But Bruce got dosed with some sort of truth toxin and he’s asking for you.”
“Asking for…me?” Clark raised his eyebrows, “Why?”
Dick wasn’t fooled. He could see the slight blush growing in the other man’s cheeks. The way his voice had just barely upturned on the last syllable, threatening to crack. The quick flash of his eyes around the Cave, looking for hidden danger.
From the way Jason snorted next to him, he knew he wasn’t alone in smelling bullshit.
Dick cleared his throat. “He--”
“He misses you,” Jason interjected, stepping forward, “Something about you always being there, ‘kindest man I know,’ yada yada yada…”
That was putting it succinctly. They’d heard an Iliad’s worth of praise for Clark in the past thirty minutes, but he didn’t need to know that.
“You don’t have to go in there,” Dick said, gesturing toward the medbay, “We’re halfway through sequencing the toxin, and should have an antidote soon--”
“I’ll go,” Clark interrupted, shoulders drawing back as he headed for the medbay, “He’s my best friend. Of course I’ll go in there.”
Dick knew if he turned to his left, he’d see Jason mouthing the words best friend with a lewd expression. He followed behind Clark, refusing to look at his idiot brother.
“Just a warning, he’s a little--”
The second Clark set foot in the medbay, he was immediately pounced upon.
“Bruce--”
Faster than the eye could see, Bruce was across the room and throwing himself into Clark’s arms.
“You’re so warm,” Bruce said, snuggling even further into the Kryptonian’s chest, “I missed you.”
Clark met Dick’s gaze over Bruce’s head, stunned. Dick had never seen such a clear what the fuck expression in his life. He wanted to frame it and put it on a wall somewhere.
“I…missed you too, B,” Clark said, arms going up and around Bruce, “Dick said you, uh, weren’t feeling good.”
“Feel fine,” Bruce said into Clark’s chest, “Promise.”
Next to him, Jason lifted up his phone to take a picture. Dick slapped it away, ignoring Jason’s squawk.
“You don’t seem fine,” Clark said, in that same, soothing, calm voice of his from before, “Hey. You wanna sit down?”
“No,” Bruce said, muffled but clear even from across the room, “I do not.”
Tim, now escaped from Bruce’s squeezing grip, joined Dick and Jason by the doorway. His hair was mussed like Jason’s, face creased where he’d been pressed into Bruce’s undersuit.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Tim said, “Before they start kissing.”
Across the room, Clark frowned, still in the middle of trying to convince Bruce to sit down. Dick facepalmed.
“We’ll be back when the sequence is done!” Jason called over to the pair, dragging Dick toward the stairs, “Have fun!”
Dick made a punched-out noise. Of course Jason would say that. He just loved to stir the pot.
Tim disappeared at the top of the landing, eager to exit the Cave entirely. Dick couldn’t blame him.
“Bruce is going to kill us,” he said, following Jason up the stairs, “You know he has the Cave bugged.”
“I sure hope he does,” Jason said, turning around just to wiggle his eyebrows at Dick, “Think of the blackmail material--”
They both fell silent at the top of the stairs. Even this far away, the sound of soft, muffled crying was unmistakable.
Bruce hadn’t sobbed earlier, even when he’d gotten teary. This was -- different. Something rawer.
“Move,” he ordered Jason, smacking him on the arm, “Let’s go.”
“I--”
“Now.”