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It started just a week after Bruce and Clark started dating. Bruce stood in one of the many sitting rooms of the manor, the one he’d probably say is his favorite, when he noticed a blanket on the couch that he swore he had never seen before. Its bright flannel pattern caught his eyes in the beam of evening sun that cut across the room in bright slivers where Alfred had folded it neatly and draped it over the back of the couch.
He moved closer, gingerly touching the fluffy fabric, already with an idea of where it came from. Picking it up, he sat on the couch, letting the blanket unfurl overtop him, a familiar and warm scent tinging the blanket. He didn’t see Clark bring it over, let alone leave it here, but it was undeniably his. He’d have to return it, but for now, he’d indulge in the accidental gift.
*
Clark was a bit weird about Bruce returning the blanket, which he had just chalked up to embarrassment for forgetting it, but that wouldn’t make sense now. A mere twenty four hours after the blanket was returned, Bruce found himself staring at the same square of fabric neatly folded on the couch again. He huffed, shaking his head in disbelief before picking it up and making his way upstairs to his bedroom.
There is no way that Clark wasn’t the one leaving this here, but why? When? How? That Kryptonian could certainly be weird and ridiculous sometimes, but it was part of what made Bruce love him so much. It was sweet and adorable and absolutely irresistible, not that he’d ever admit to thinking that.
The thought brought a small smile to his face as he closed the door to his room behind him. He went to set the blanket on his dresser when something else caught his eye. A small pile of fabric was on the floor next to the bed. He set down the blanket and went over to pick up whatever was on the floor, his surprise doubling when he saw that it was in fact one of Clark’s old MetU sweaters.
This was looking to be more and more of a new Kryptonian quirk by the day. It couldn’t possibly hurt to… not bring it up and just observe for a week or two, could it? Clark honestly seemed more bothered when he returned the blanket then before Bruce had brought it back. Maybe he also enjoyed having the little mementos of Clark around for when the man himself couldn’t be there.
He pulled off his day clothes, swapping them for a pair of boxers and Clark’s sweater. He hesitated getting into bed, deciding to grab the blanket before settling, tucking himself into the familiar scent of his partner and long time best friend. He’d ask Clark if he’d like his things returned again because it felt like the polite thing to do, but part of him just wanted to keep it all to himself anyway.
*
“Oh, I’ll grab them sometime later. Unless they’re bothering you?” Clark dismissed Bruce’s question about having his items returned, looking oddly nervous at the thought that Bruce was upset by any of this.
“No, it’s alright.” Bruce said, watching curiously as Clark practically sagged with relief.
“So, we’re still on for movie night, then?”
“Why wouldn’t we be?”
“No reason, I don’t know, sorry. Distracted.” Clark flushed and began typing what looked to be absolute nonsense into one of the Watchtower’s computers.
There was definitely something going on, then, but Bruce was a patient man. And an observant one. He’d wait until Clark felt comfortable enough to tell him what was going on or until he deduced it himself. Clearly it was a sensitive topic and Bruce, himself a man of very little words, would wait for Clark to open up rather than spring it on him.
Bruce turned back to his work, banishing all other thoughts from his mind for the time being.
*
Movie night, per usual, was great. He nuzzled into Clark’s warm arms, very content to enjoy their activity of watching and listening and not talking. Thankfully, Clark seemed to take some reprieve in watching a movie quietly as well.
The whole evening was so peaceful – and a bit distracting for some other reasons – that Bruce had forgotten about the whole blanket and sweatshirt thing until the next morning. Clark had to rush back to Metropolis, citing some Superman related emergency, although the dodgy look of embarrassment hinted at something otherwise.
Bruce found himself sitting in his room wearing Clark’s clothes from the previous night, his own likely lost somewhere else. There was now a second blanket that Bruce was sure he did not own himself as well as a pillow that was definitely Clark’s on the bed.
So, now Bruce had two blankets, a pillow, and some clothes of Clark’s in his possession. His collection seemed to be slowly growing, and as amusing and cute as it was, Bruce did feel that he should mention it to Clark before his house turned into a pillow fort.
He made quick work of his morning routine, which consisted of a cup of coffee, courtesy of Alfred, and a quick trip to the bathroom to freshen up, before heading to the garage. He had nothing pressing today and was almost certain that Clark had nothing either, so he’d pay him a visit now.
The door to Clark’s apartment opened before Bruce had the chance to knock, unsurprisingly. It was difficult to sneak up on someone who had your heartbeat memorized and a million other super senses to match. He smiled warmly, welcoming Bruce inside, although he looked a little confused at the unannounced visit.
“How did your morning rescue go?” Bruce asked pointedly.
“Oh, uhm. It was fine.” Clark looked sheepishly at the floor. He truly was terrible at hiding how he felt. It was a wonder as to how Bruce didn’t notice his feelings sooner.
“So, what brings you to Metropolis?” Clark asked, changing the topic.
“Clark, have you been… nesting at my house?” Bruce asked, getting straight to the point.
Clark’s face went red and he sputtered in response, shocked. Bruce hated to see him flailing so he reached out a hand, placing it on his shoulder to ground him.
“I’m not mad or anything, I just want to know.”
“I- yes.” Clark sighed, looking humiliated.
“Okay.” Bruce nodded, but Clark still didn’t look any happier. “Why are you so-” Bruce gestured to Clark’s hunched position.
“It’s just… I can’t help it, and I don’t want you to think I’m weird or-” Clark began to explain, but Bruce cut him off with a soft kiss to his lips, sliding easily into the curves of Clark’s body.
“Clark, you’d have to try much harder for me to think you were weird. Anyway, I think that the nesting thing is kinda cute.”
“You do?” Clark perked up, holding Bruce tight against him.
“Earthlings also like to exchange clothes and stuff with their partners, y’know.” Bruce chuckled against him, smiling as Clark flushed again.
“Well, about that…” Clark laughed and led Bruce to his room.
Immediately Bruce recognized some of his own blankets piled up on Clark’s bed, which was amusing, but what was even more shocking was when Clark pulled open one of his drawers to reveal that it was full of various articles of Bruce’s clothes.
“I’m sorry. I know I didn’t ask. I really just couldn’t help it.”
“It’s alright, Clark. I promise you that I have no shortage of clothing.” Bruce said as he flipped through the items Clark had collected.
“So, do you wear them when I’m not around?” Bruce asked, grinning slyly when he saw Clark’s ears redden. He nodded.
“I bet they fit nicely on you, don’t they? Why don’t you show me?” Bruce eyed the slightly bigger man, reveling in the way he squirmed under Bruce’s praise and attention.
This wasn’t how he expected his visit to go necessarily, but there was always that hope. Just as he hoped to continue this little exchange of physical comforts until their beds and wardrobes were almost an extension of each other’s.
No one in the manor commented if Bruce returned hours later in clothes that were slightly too big on him, another fluffy blanket draped over his arm.