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When Kal-El fell into Earth, it had been, quite literally, world-shattering. Tucked in a rocket of his planet, he had crossed galaxies and careened through the atmosphere like a meteor. His landing was an ear-splitting, crater-leaving thing, producing thunderous waves of his impact across a wide corn-field in Smallville, Kansas.
Born in a planet far away as Kal-El, raised in the quaint little house of farmers as Kaelix. Within years, Kaelix had called it nothing else but what it was—home. Although it had been some time since he had moved out to Metropolis, taking a side-job as a journalist apart from his saving-the-world shtick, the Debonairs remain as his home to this day.
When Kaelix, quite literally, fell onto Zeal, he had hoped that it could be just as Earth-shattering; in the way that he wished that the ground beneath his feet would open and swallow him whole. The strength and speed he had been born with seemed to have vanished at that moment; a waiter had pushed him too hard, he had lost his footing, and in his desperation to act his part as a bumbling reporter, he had fallen into Zeal's arms.
(Not a whole day later, Seible had squealed in their desks at the Daily Planet that the moment was like ripped out of an English romantic novel page. Chief Ike had reprimanded Seible, and whether or not Kaelix had felt a quiet sense of satisfaction from that, he would never admit it on record).
Zeal Ginjoka—billionaire, philanthropist, and playboy—was more of well, everything, up-close. The magazine covers, paparazzi pictures, and the scandalous images on tabloids did him no justice. A velvet curtain of black-green hair framed the piercing windows of his soul, draped along the beauty mark below his curled lips. And that smile of his, half-amused and half-flirtatious, as the warmth of his palm against Kaelix's back lingered.
"Careful there, gorgeous."
"Mr. Ginjoka!" Kaelix yelped, scrambling away from Zeal's arms, "I'm- so sorry!"
Zeal laughed, a deeply rich yet sensuous laugh, "The night's been long. I wouldn't complain having an armful of a pretty guy like you, Mister…?"
"Ah- Kaelix Debonair, the Daily Planet," Kaelix offered his hand, tried not to linger on Zeal's calloused skin against his. He seemed to be a man who did not know hard labor, who would be intimately more familiar with giving work than doing them. Who—what the the tabloids suggested—would rather be spending the night in clubs and hotel rooms than an office.
"You're a long way from home then, Keith," Zeal smiled, lips curled and sleazy. If Kaelix didn't know any better, he would've missed the minute tensing of his shoulders. Zeal seemed almost on-guard, a little privy to strangers setting foot into his city.
"It's Kaelix, sir."
"And what brings a beauty like you here?" Zeal whisked a champagne off a waiter, smiling teasingly into it, "Did your boy scout save a cat up a tree in our city?"
"No, not exactly, sir," Kaelix tried not to stutter with his words. His disguise was picture-perfect, his character down to a T, and his partner, Pulitzer-prize winning renowned investigative journalist, Seible, had not even believed he was Superman till he wore the suit and flew him in his arms. Zeal Ginjoka did not know his secret; Superman and Metropolis were tied together, it was only natural to bring him up with a reporter from the same city. "I'm here for the scholarships you've provided for the Institutes of Mystics and Infinity. I've heard you've donated over $50 million, including the renovation and maintenance of facilities. Any reason as to why you chose to fund the music department in particular?"
"It's simple, Kale. I believe it was the great Socrates that said 'Music is a moral law.'"
"It's Kaelix, sir."
"Was it Kaelix who said that? No, that can't be right."
"No, that was Plato, sir."
"Right on, Kevin," Zeal laughed, and Kaelix knew he was doing it on purpose. "Gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and charm to sadness, and life to everything." He leaned in, winked with a nudge to his arm, "And more publicity to a billionaire."
Kaelix's lips pressed into a thin line. "Can I quote you on that, sir?"
"Tell you what, just say it's always been a personal dream of mine, and I've always longed to open the eyes of the city to the wonders of the arts," playfully, Zeal prompted his arm over Kaelix's shoulder, and it wasn't often that anyone could do it, so he didn't manage to slip off his grubby hands on time. "You're a writer, I'm certain you can pick up what I'm putting down, Mr. Kaelix. Otherwise, I'd love to show you. There's an opera house celebrating its 71st anniversary concert next week, what do you say? Just you and I—off the record."
"That's a wonderful offer, but I'd have to decline, sir," Kaelix suppressed the twitch in his eye. He's Superman, he's dealt with intergalactic monsters and evil masterminds, he can spend another minute with Zeal Ginjoka without wanting to bash his indestructible head in dry wall. "I'd love to talk about your recent donations to numerous rehabilitation centers across Gotham though—on the record."
"Oh, I'd love to. But I'm afraid I have a party to host and other guests to entertain," Zeal sent him his million-dollar smile, and if Kaelix couldn't hear that stutter in his heartbeat, he would've believed him. Across the room, Freodore, Zeal's business ally, exchanged a look with him as if they could talk in a silent code only they knew. Zeal Ginjoka was a household name, recognized across cities, and he had something to hide. The kiss he left in Kaelix's hand does little to deter the investigative reporter and justice-seeking hero in him. "Maybe some other time, Karl. Pleasure meeting you."
**
When Kaelix fell, quite literally, into The Batman's arms, he had been cursing Millie and her natural ability to get into accidents at the worst of times. Kaelix wasn't supposed to be in Gotham again; if you asked him, he wouldn't touch it with a ten-foot pole if he could.
The first trip to Gotham was for that fund-raising charity hosted by Zeal, in his very own disgustingly shiny manor, and he had been there for a puff piece under Ike's orders. It was his investigative streak that made him deviate from the fund-raising to anonymous donations that Kaelix had only caught wind of with Seible's help. Why a man like Zeal, who admitted that he thrived off of publicity, would hide a generous donation and pretend to be an insufferably egocentric ditz while simultaneously quoting the Greeks, Kaelix was itching to know.
The current visit to Gotham was on behalf of Millie, who broke her foot a day ago, and made it abundantly clear that she wouldn't have missed it for the world if not for Ike's insistence on reassigning their cases. If Kaelix had been born with the ability to heal other's wounds, he wouldn't be above doing it if it meant he'd avoid a chance of running into Zeal Ginjoka.
It was to his luck, or lack thereof, when the Subway he walked into got robbed and held hostages before anyone could scream for help. The teen behind the counter raised his hands over his head, the customers scurried under the tables, and the masked intruders gunned almost every light in the fast-food chain as they threw empty bags over. Another Tuesday in Gotham, then.
Before Kaelix could sweep into action, his stance maneuvered to take advantage of the flickering lights and take them out in one go, a masked figure had emerged from the shadows. Within moments, a blur of gray and black slid and swooped across the restaurant, knocking every masked man unconscious onto the floor with a thwack and a thud. The lights flickered onto his towering silhouette, casting a horned shadow over the floors.
Kaelix had whispered his name before he realized it, "Batman."
Their eyes met, or Kaelix had assumed they did, too out of it to use his x-ray vision to make sure. For a moment, Kaelix sat there on the ground, gaping at the caped crusader, before slowly standing across him.
"Batman!" a little girl had squealed behind Kaelix.
Kaelix, knee-deep in his clumsy civilian slash scared victim act, tripped as the child had brushed past him, and he fell right into the night-stalking, crime-fighting, vigilante's arms. The child had found itself by Batman's leg, too, hugging him like he was her lifeline—and maybe for the rest of Gotham, he really was. And maybe to Kaelix, too.
Oh, Rao, Kaelix prayed the Batman's armor was thickset enough to leave his pounding heartbeat go unnoticed. Or what if the Bat was just like him, a meta among men, and he could hear and feel Kaelix's beating heart for him? He wouldn't put it past him—the Bat had a sharp, stunning jaw, lips that looked kissable enough at this proximity, and a stature that could rival even Superman's.
A low rough voice cleared its throat, and Kaelix had scrambled as he realized that he was still hugging him, snuggling into The Batman's big burly arms, like a little schoolgirl who didn't know any better.
A woman had yelled out a name, a mother calling for its child to return to her and to 'stay away from him!' Before Kaelix knew it, Batman was pushing him away, and turning to disappear into the night.
Kaelix had come into Gotham with a story to write and left with a tiny crush. (On the train back home, he was only slightly annoyed at Millie for making him take this job and totally grateful that he never ran into Zeal. It's just too bad he'd never admit it to her or on record).
**
When Zeal fell, quite literally, into Superman's arms, it had been like Icarus to the sun: inevitable. He had been visiting in Metropolis, for Rao knows what, when he had been kidnapped and tied onto a roof by a group of amateurs.
Perhaps the negotiations had fallen through, or Zeal had said something out of order—he wouldn't put it past the man, after all. But one moment Kaelix was saving ducklings from a manhole and was hearing 'Superman! Help him!' on the next street over. Before he knew it, his arms were full of the most infuriating walking contradiction on Earth: "Superman, I didn't expect to see you here! You come here often, handsome?"
"Mr. Zeal." Kaelix—Superman, he reminded himself—deadpanned, "I didn't expect you here either. Metropolis is a long a way from home."
Zeal's eyes widened by an exaggerated fraction, his gasp high and whiny as the wind tousled his otherwise kept hair, "You know me?"
"You have a skyscraper with your name," Kaelix said through a forced smile, trying very hard to ignore the way Zeal's hand rested against his chest. "It's hard to miss."
Zeal chuckled, light and airy and Rao forbid, flirty, "Well, I'm flattered. You didn't have to come save little ol' me."
"Comes with the job, sir," Kaelix set him down on the ground, their bodies standing close across each other. "Do you know who did this to you?"
"No, I don't think so," Zeal paused a moment to think and if Kaelix was a lesser man, he would've been convinced that his pretty little head would strain if he went on any longer. "But they seemed rather unskilled, no? Openly killing the hostage before getting the ransom money. I'd say they're nothing but young ones looking for a way to make a quick buck but got spooked at the last minute."
Kaelix nodded at that, ready to move, but without posing himself as a threat to the no-gooders. "I'll see to it that they're brought to justice then."
"No, no—it's no worries at all, Superman," Zeal held him by the shoulder before he could fly away and use his x-ray vision to track them down. It caught him off-guard, again, but the unnecessary fondling against the meat of his arm was definitely more unnerving. "Let me take care of them. I've got a friend down in the GCPD, he can help me."
Superman arched a brow. Before he could push, Zeal had grabbed his hand, for the second time, and kissed it. "You can question Officer Brisko later to make sure. I'll see you around, Superman." Kaelix hated how the warmth had become familiar to him, the lines between Kaelix Debonair, Daily Planet reporter, and Superman, Man of Steel, were blurring at Zeal's palm. "Pleasure meeting you."
**
When Superman had fallen in love with Batman, it was, quite literally, during an Earth-splitting inter-dimensional attack. An intergalactic race of aliens had stormed through Earth's atmosphere, harboring an innate nature to destroy and conquer to appease its dying species.
The Justice League, consisting of the Heroes of the Night, and the students of the Institutes of Mystics and Infinity, had fought a good battle on the ground. Up in the sky, Batman had hijacked the mother ship, flying it straight to the mouth of a gigantic space-worm before jumping out.
Superman had caught him mid-battle mid-air, only for the explosion to send them hurtling down from a hundred feet in the sky. Instinctively, Superman had wrapped Batman in his cape and arms, more than willing to brace the impact for him, whether the Dark Knight was a meta or not.
They landed with a booming impact, and like Kaelix had wanted, he took most of the damage with his back on the ground. Batman had huffed as he pushed the cape away from himself, letting out a laugh in between Kaelix's legs that it made him wonder if either of them had gotten a concussion from the impact. Kaelix knew that amount couldn't stand against his strength and regenerative abilities, and yet his head spun and his heart pounded with a thrill like no other.
A smile had found its way in Batman's dust-stained lips, curling around a hearty laugh as it rumbled against Kaelix's chest and all around his Kryptonian body system. A warmth that couldn't hold a torch to the sun's yellow light flowed through him, trickling through the cracks of his ribs and searing itself into his beating heart.
In his arms, this was a man who risked his life, who didn't hesitate to run head-first into the jaws of death, for humanity. Kaelix hadn't been sure these past few weeks with him together, but he was certain that his love for humanity, and the scars and bruises he carried with him in exchange and alongside it, Batman was merely a man. He was a better man than him.
Kaelix couldn't believe himself, laughing as he threw his head back to the dent he left on the ground, "What exactly was your escape plan back there, Batman?"
"You." Batman grinned. "Although I admit, we have to stop meeting like this."
Kaelix's smile fell. "Uh, what?"
Batman groaned as he lifted himself off of him, dusting the debris and rubble off his shoulders before extending a hand. And with a sickeningly familiar curl of a lip and timbre of a voice, he said, "Come on up, gorgeous. You're a long way from home, after all."
Kaelix gaped, "Zeal- Zeal Ginjoka?!"
"As always, it was a pleasure to meet you, Kaelix Debonair," Zeal had kissed his hand, for the third time, dang it! and he had let him. Before Kaelix could prod him with questions (how did you know, since when did you know, were any of your flirtatious advances to me real), Zeal Ginjoka, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist; a.k.a Batman, the Dark Knight, the Caped Crusader, the World's Greatest Detective; a.k.a the most obnoxious man Kaelix ever had the displeasure of meeting and his persistent crush, had turned to leave with a casual wave. "Make sure to turn in your report before the next debriefing, my darling boy scout."
"You! You make me sick--!" Kaelix had shouted after him, barely catching himself before he could have said the Bat's identity out loud. "I'm knocking that stupid name off your building the next time I fly by! Just you wait!"