Chapter Text
“Tell me how it is, being the sun.
You could walk into a room and
they’d all be watching you. They’d
all get down on their knees. I ask
you how it is, and you say, ‘It
hurts. It hurts.’”
—R. Wright
The thing was, Clark loved Bruce more than anything. He really did.
But loving Bruce Wayne was like trying to hold onto smoke—fleeting, frustrating, and always just out of reach. He was the most maddening Alpha Clark had ever known: stubborn to a fault, reckless with his life, and so emotionally constipated that not even super strength stood a chance.
After five years of stolen nights, a brush of the hands or a longing look at the Watchtower, Clark couldn’t take it anymore.
As a Kryptonian Omega, Clark had already put up with more than most could bear. He’d grown up knowing he was different, but it wasn’t just his powers, his strength, or the way the sun made his skin buzz. It was his very biology. His scent, which was strange and star-born, was something most Alphas couldn’t parse. It wasn’t floral or musky or sweet the way Earth-bred Omegas were expected to be. It shimmered with ozone and sunlight, with something electric and sharp beneath it, like the cold stillness of space after a solar flare. Too bright. Too different. Too alien.
Even the ones who pretended to be polite around him always kept a subtle distance, noses wrinkling when they thought he wouldn’t notice. The closest thing to attraction he’d ever gotten was curiosity—clinical and cold, like someone poking at a lab rat to see what made it squeak.
He tried not to let it hurt. He told himself it didn’t matter.
But it did.
Because it meant that every time he ached for a bond, for connection, he was reminded that he might never have it. Not in the way other Omegas did. Not with someone who wanted him for who he was, not despite it.
Lex had called his scent unnatural. He’d been possessive and abusive, always trying to bottle Clark’s wildness, trying to break him down into something manageable. Something only, he could control.
Lois had tried. She really had. She was kind, brilliant, fiercely driven—the sort of woman who made headlines and didn’t flinch in the face of danger.
For a time, Clark had convinced himself that it was enough.
But she could never quite hide the way his scent unsettled her.
She started lighting candles whenever he came over.
At first, he thought it was just for ambiance—soft notes of vanilla, citrus, and lavender. But they burned every time he walked in the door, even when they were just supposed to be enjoying each other’s company.
She always opened a window, even in winter.
And when he tried to scent mark her, a simple brush of his wrist against hers, her nose would wrinkle before she could stop herself. She never said it aloud. Never made him feel unwanted. But she didn’t have to.
In the end, it wasn’t just his scent. Lois had always been married to her work. And as much as she admired Clark, as much as she might have loved parts of him, she could never make space for all of him—especially not the parts that made him so different.
But Bruce? Bruce was the only Alpha who never flinched away or wrinkled his nose in disgust. Who didn’t care that Clark’s scent didn’t match what an Omega should be. When Clark had apologized once, self-conscious and so sick and tired of rejection, Bruce had just leaned in, his nose in the crook of Clark’s neck, and inhaled deeply. With a rare, quiet smile, he murmured: “I just smell you.”
Clark had fallen hard and fast. Irrevocably. He’d spent so much of his life aching—starved for love, for connection, for someone who could accept the alien side of him. For so long, he’d always had to hold a part of himself back. But with Bruce, he didn’t have to apologize for what he was. He didn’t have to make himself smaller or ignore his instincts.
Bruce made him feel seen, not in the way the world saw Superman or Clark Kent, but the entirety of him.
It was a kind of safety Clark had never experienced before, which is why this hurt so much. He finally had the love he’d always wanted, but he didn’t want to be a hidden thing anymore. Not to Bruce. Not to Bruce’s pups. Not to his family. Not to the world.
“Bruce, I love you, but I can’t do this anymore,” Clark said, his voice low but shaking with conviction. “You won’t even let me tell Ma about you. Your pups don’t even know I exist.”
Bruce stiffened, that familiar wall snapping into place behind his eyes. “Clark, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I can’t keep being your dirty little secret,” Clark replied, the words catching in his throat. “I want more. I want a life with you. I want to come home to you. I want to make dinner with Alfred and help Jason with his math homework, and trip over Dick’s gym bag in the hallway. I want to be part of your world, not just your bed.”
“Clark—”
“No,” Clark interrupted, softer now, but more certain than ever. “I want to build a life with you. I want to be your partner, your mate, Bruce. But if you can’t give me that… then I need to walk away before this hurts more than it already does.”
Bruce didn’t speak. Not right away. His mouth opened, closed. Then finally, after what felt like an eternity, he said in that gruff way of his, “Move in with me.”
Clark blinked. “What?”
“Move in,” Bruce repeated, stepping closer. There was hesitation in his voice but also fear. “Let them meet you. Let’s… try. For real.”
Clark studied him for a long moment, heart hammering. “Are you sure?”
“No,” Bruce said honestly. “But I don’t want to lose you.”
Clark let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding—and for the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to hope.
The thing was—Bruce didn’t do relationships. Not real ones. He had flings, one-night stands, and public displays of affection as Brucie Wayne…
That all changed when he met a blue-eyed alien with a heart too big for his own good.
Clark settled something inside of Bruce—something quiet and restless and aching that he hadn’t even realized was there. With Clark, the world slowed down. The noise dimmed. The weight on Bruce’s shoulders didn’t feel quite so heavy.
And that terrified him.
Because Bruce wasn’t made for love, he was made for war, for strategy, for sacrifice. Everything he touched burned out or bled. Love, in his world, always ended the same… Still, he’d coveted Clark, hoarded him like something sacred. Kept him tucked away, hidden from the world and even from the people who mattered most to Bruce himself. It wasn’t fair—he knew that.
Clark didn’t deserve secrecy, distance, or half-measures. He deserved so much more than Bruce could ever give him.
But when Clark, voice trembling but firm, gave him an ultimatum, Bruce felt the ground shift beneath him. For once, he didn’t run away or retreat. He didn’t even try to hide. Because the truth was, he couldn’t let Clark go.
Not now.
Not ever.
Which was why Bruce had called a family meeting.
Even Dick—who had just moved to Blüdhaven and rarely came home because he was still so angry at Bruce—was there. His suit jacket draped over the back of the chair like he might leave at any moment. His foot was tapping nervously. He clearly wanted Bruce to cut to the chase.
Jason sat slouched in his seat, half-heartedly poking at the roasted chicken on his plate. He was still adjusting to regular meals, and sometimes, Alfred’s cooking—however comforting it was supposed to be—was too much for a boy who was used to living out of dumpsters.
Alfred stood off to the side, perfectly composed as always, though Bruce didn’t miss the way his brows rose ever so slightly when Bruce hesitated.
Bruce sat at the head of the table, hands clasped in front of him. Clearing his throat, he looked between his sons, his expression unreadable but his shoulders a little too tense. “I have something important to tell you,” he said at last. His voice was even, but a touch quieter than usual. “I-I’ve been seeing someone. For a considerable amount of time. And I’ve decided it’s time to take our relationship to the next level.”
“Oh my god,” Dick exclaimed. “You’re getting married?!”
Jason made a face like he’d just bitten into a lemon. “Ew!”
“No!” Bruce said quickly, almost defensively. “Not that. I-I asked him to move in.”
A silence fell over the table.
Jason stared.
Dick’s mouth was slightly open.
Alfred’s lips pursed. His face gave nothing away, but he looked at Bruce like he was proud or something.
“What?!” Dick and Jason shouted simultaneously.
Bruce winced.
“Inside voices, young masters,” Alfred chided, as he calmly refilled Dick’s glass like this wasn’t the most chaotic dinner they'd had in months.
Dick leaned forward, brow furrowed. “Who is this person? How long have you been dating? Wait, have we met them?!”
“I don’t want an evil stepmother!” Jason wailed.
Bruce raised a hand. He didn’t speak until both boys had quieted, though Dick still bounced one leg under the table and Jason’s arms were folded tight across his chest.
“I-It’s Superman,” Bruce said, trying and failing to sound casual. “We’ve been dating for about five years now.”
The room fell silent for half a beat.
Then—
“You and Supes?!” Dick sputtered, the water he’d just sipped bursting out of his mouth like a geyser. “Are you serious?!”
“That goody two-shoes?” Jason wrinkled his nose.
Bruce exhaled slowly, the weight of the evening pressing heavily on his shoulders. He had hoped—quietly, desperately—that tonight would go better. He knew how much this meant to Clark.
Moving in wasn’t just about commitment or taking the next step. It was about an instinctive desire the Omega had longed for so long: a home, a pack, a family. And not just with Bruce but with his boys, too.
Clark’s Kryptonian biology wasn’t compatible with humans. No matter how deeply he longed for it, carrying a child of his own was not an option.
They never spoke of it aloud—never put words to the ache—but Bruce knew.
Clark wanted to be a mother. Desperately. And in this messy, broken family, he saw the faint outline of that dream becoming something real.
Bruce wanted that for him, too… more than he would ever admit. He had just wanted this night to be a success, to pave the way for his mate. He wanted Dick to put aside his anger, if only for a moment. He wanted Jason to be more open and trusting, even if he couldn’t believe it just yet.
Bruce wanted them to accept Clark, to love him, to give him another reason to stay because deep down, he was afraid he’d never be enough.
***
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