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A week of radio silence from the Bat was not odd. It wasn’t. Bruce would occasionally get invested in Gotham and Gotham alone and ghost the league entirely for a week or two. Clark swore that this time, however, felt different.
Gotham has been quiet and maybe Bruce had been keeping in personal contact with him a little more lately and that has all dropped too. He definitely wasn’t a little put off by the fact that Bruce was ignoring him in addition to everyone else, just concerned for his friend.
That is how Clark found himself flying into the tunnel of the Batcave, the sudden coolness of the air a stark change from the heavy humidity of the Gotham summer outside. Dick Grayson, half suited up as Nightwing, was asleep in the Batcomputer’s chair, snoring softly.
From a distance, Clark could see the tired bags under the boy’s eyes, the complete sag of his body where he sat in the chair. He touched down gently, moving towards the sleeping boy to get a closer look when suddenly Dick sprung up from the chair, a look of hope quickly fading to something more neutral when he saw Clark.
“Hey, Superman.” Dick sat back down in the chair, crossing his legs and steepling his hands in a way so painfully reminiscent of Bruce. “Can I help you with something?”
“Well, I hope so.” He smiled, friendly, inviting.
“Ask away.” Dick smiled back.
“I don’t mean to pry so feel no need to give details, but I was wondering if Batman was around? He’s been radio silent for a while now and I just wanted to check in.”
Clark felt his heart sink as Dick’s smile fell from his face.
“I guess someone would come asking around sooner or later.” He sighed looking wearily at the monitors towering beside him. “Bruce… he’s been MIA since Wednesday.”
“Since Wednesday? That’s six days, Dick! He’s been completely missing for six days and you haven’t told anyone?” Clark’s voice raised, making Dick flinch a little. He immediately regretted it.
“It’s his protocol. I have to wait exactly one week before contacting anyone, and when I do I have to in the order he provides. Trust me, I’ve wanted to reach out since day one.”
“I know, I’m sorry for yelling.” Clark apologized and Dick gave him a nod of recognition. “So, how can I help now that I’m here?”
“Let me show you what I’ve got.” Dick said, turning their attention to the files he had up on the batcomputer.
*
Even with Superman’s enhanced vision, their search of Gotham was slow and fruitless. There is essentially a thin coat of lead in most of the buildings that heavily hinders Clark’s X-ray vision and he can’t pick up any of Bruce’s typical sounds either.
Dick returned to the cave about an hour ago, leaving Clark to search by foot. He figured that it wouldn’t hurt to take a closer look, there may be a clue better suited for normal vision rather than the superhuman variety. He tried his absolute best to keep his hopes up as he scoured the outskirts of Gotham, pausing when he came to the bridge he knew Bruce always took to get in and out of the city from the manor.
There was a rustling coming from under the bridge, a sound of life that Clark absolutely refused to ignore. He slid down the steep banks, grimacing at the thick muddy smears it left on his suit, but he didn’t have much time to regret not flying down instead because suddenly there was a weight slamming into him.
Instinctively, he lifted his arms to catch whatever had rammed into him, surprised to find wet, muddy fur beneath his fingers. The dog was scrambling at him, wriggling in his arms, barking. Animals tended to like him but this one seemed to be in a frenzy, barking and refusing to sit still. Clark grabbed the dog under its shoulders and held it out in front of him, the filthy brute still refusing to hold still.
“Stop it! You’re gonna hurt yourself!” Clark frantically dropped the dog onto its feet when it began to gnaw on his hands so it wouldn’t hurt its teeth.
The dog pounced at him again, barking and jumping and darting back towards the bridge in short bursts before running back.
“You wanna show me something, boy?” Clark asked the dog, who wagged his tail excitedly, barking again before prancing towards the shadows.
Clark kept a good distance behind but followed the dog. He could see it rummaging around in something, some pile of fabric, muddy and wet from the river bank. His stomach dropped when he saw what it was.
“Is- that’s…” The dog picked up a piece between his teeth and dropped it at Clark’s feet. It was Batman’s cowl.
“Did you see him? Do you know where he is?” He asked the dog, desperation edging in his tone. The dog began to bark again, nuzzling the cowl harshly. “God I must be crazy, talking to a damn dog. I should probably take you somewhere-”
He reached for the dog but stopped when it growled, snapping its teeth at him. The dog managed to slip the cowl onto its head, glaring at Clark. The dog quieted when he saw that Clark had stilled his movements, and instead sat down, striking a pose that was as much of a Batman pose as a dog could muster.
“Bruce?” Clark looked at the dog, slackjawed.
“BARK!”
“You’re… Bruce? Batman?” Clark asked again.
The dog barked and jumped around excitedly, shaking off the cowl.
“Oh my god, I thought I lost you.” Clark grabbed the dog, holding him to his chest where he squirmed fruitlessly. “I’m not going crazy, am I?”
The dog growled, jamming his snout into Clark’s chest. Finally, Clark set him down and the dog – Bruce – sat quietly, waiting for Clark to say something.
“I guess I should take you back to the manor, then. I’ll have to carry you, though.”
Bruce pouted, letting out an annoyed huff, but let Clark pick him up without a fight, the cowl clutched in his mouth. He gathered up the rest of the suit from the mud before taking off. He flew slowly, careful not to startle Bruce because although he is clearly aware of who he is, he’s still in a dog body.
“No luck, then?” Dick is saying before even turning to look at Clark, typing aggressively at the keyboard of the Batcomputer.
“On the contrary, I found him.” Clark smiled, proudly.
Dick whipped around, a look of shock on his face turning to one of genuine concern when he saw the dog in Clark’s arms, once again squirming to get free.
“Clark, that’s a dog.”
“Yes. And it’s Bruce.”
Dick just stared at him dumbfounded.
“If this is some kind of joke-”
“No, Dick. I swear this is him.”
“Is he crazy? Am I going crazy?” Dick muttered to himself, turning away and running his hands through his hair. “Prove it.” He said, turning back to Clark.
Clark finally set Bruce back on the ground, thinking about how to prove that the dog was actually Bruce. Bruce sat patiently staring up at him.
“Bruce, I don’t know how to prove this. Maybe, uhm… do you think you can enter in passcodes with your nose or something?” Clark asked the dog, much to Dick’s exasperation. “Oh, and he had this.” Clark dropped the muddy batsuit into Dick’s arms.
“Oh, well that’s just gross. It also is just even more worrying, because as far as I’m aware, some dog found a pile of Batman’s clothes to play around in while Bruce is running around naked somewhere.”
“So, passcodes then?” Clark turned to Bruce again.
Bruce barked, wagging his tail in response, which is good enough of a yes as it gets.
“Good, go… do that, then.” Clark said and Bruce trotted over to the armory.
Dick and Clark followed him over, watching as Bruce used his nose to carefully punch in the code to unlock one of the armory compartments. It wasn’t easy, but it also was definitely not something a normal dog would know how to do.
“Okay. I see your point.” Dick said as the armory clicked open and Bruce sat back, proudly. “I guess I’ll call Zatanna, then.”
“Sounds good. While you do that, is there somewhere I could give him a bath?” Clark wrinkled his nose, looking at the wet, muddy dog, who growled, ears dropping to the side in a pout at the suggestion.
“Wow, that’s definitely him.” Dick laughed and Bruce barked angrily in return. “There are some showers down the hall there, just use the people soap. It should be fine for now at least.”
Clark gave Bruce a look and the way his ears drooped sulkily meant that he understood that he wasn’t getting out of this. He gestured forward and Bruce led the way down the hall, slow and pouty, and Clark had to do his best to suppress a chuckle, never having seen a dog act quite like this before.
Bruce led them into a room that was almost like a mini locker room, sitting grumpily on the tile floor by a showerhead. Clark had no problem finding soap and towels, preparing the area for the familiar mess of dog grooming, having had dogs himself in the past. He unhooked the nozzle from the wall and was about to turn the water on when he hesitated, turning to Bruce who was still pouting.
“Bruce.” Clark said and the dog turned to look at him, his blank expression off putting on a dog’s face, “Are you sure you’re okay with this? I don’t want to be making you uncomfortable or cross any boundaries. You’re still you in a dog body.”
Bruce stood up, walking the short distance to Clark before butting his head softly against his leg before turning around and sitting squarely on his foot with a huff. It was as clear of a yes as Clark would be getting, so he moved forward with his bathing operation, checking the temperature of the water before spraying Bruce with it. Bruce was generally cooperative and Clark was doing his absolute best to not think about how he was quite literally taking a shower with his best friend and touching him everywhere.
Once the mud was all gone and Bruce no longer smelled like he crawled out of the sewer, Clark took a moment to look at him. He was pretty sure before, but now it was certain that Bruce was a German Shepard, his coat thick and more black than brown. Even as a dog he seemed to retain a lot of his strength and obviously his personality and brains.
And apparently his sense of humor too, because as soon as the water was off and Clark stood up to grab a towel, Bruce shook off aggressively right in front of him, spraying Clark with a rain of water droplets. The look on Bruce’s face was definitely smug, seeing that this was likely an act of revenge for making him take a bath at all.
“Oh, you bastard! You and I both know that you wouldn’t have wanted to stay all covered in mud and smelly!” Clark tried wiping the dog-water off of himself in disgust.
Bruce just barked once in return, sharp and not too loud. He sat still, lifting his legs one at a time to help Clark as he dried him off. As soon as he finished and began to use a second towel to dry himself off, Bruce darted out of the room back to the cave.
Clark took off after him, despite knowing that it’s Bruce and not just any dog, he couldn’t help feeling that he was up to trouble. He was surprised with what he found in the cave: Bruce with one of Dick’s gloves clamped in his jaws, wagging his tail in a play bow as he hopped around, avoiding Dick’s attempts at retrieving his glove. Clark froze, watching as Bruce honest to god played tug of war with his exasperated ward.
“Bruce!” Dick growled, tugging at the glove. “God, I can’t believe I’m about to say this. Bruce, drop it! Bad dog!”
That seemed enough to snap Bruce out of it, and he let the glove go, suddenly stiffening up as he seemed to have realized what he was just doing. Then he sniffed the air, turning to spot Clark watching them from a short distance away, and unconsciously his tail began to wag, betraying his calm walk over to where he was standing.
Without thinking, Clark reached his hand out, patting Bruce between the ears. He pulled his hand away quickly, realizing it’s probably odd to pet your best friend, even when they’re dog shaped. He gave a quick scan of the room, easily finding what he was looking for. He walked over to the gym area and pulled a tennis ball out of a drawer, Bruce tagging along at his heels. When he saw what Clark was holding, he gave him a glare, but couldn’t hide his interest.
“Want it? Go get it!” Clark tossed the ball across the cave, watching as it bounced off and around all the furniture by the armory. Bruce hesitated, looking at both Dick and Clark, who each gave him encouraging nods and thumbs ups before he took off after it, jumping and snapping at the ball, running back over to Clark and dropping it at his feet.
He threw it again, watching with amusement as Bruce went after it. Clark made his way over to Dick, continuing to throw the ball while he talked quietly with him.
“Who knew that Bruce got post bath zoomies?” Dick chuckled as he watched.
“Please tell me you’re saving this security footage.” Clark grinned at him.
“Already ahead of you. And I’m trusting you’re getting some good pictures?”
“You bet. He’s never gonna forget this one.”
“Perfect.” Dick smiled and turned back to the computer. “Zatanna is almost here. Hopefully she’ll be able to shine some light on this situation.”
“Great, I’ll keep him busy until she gets here.” Clark said, tossing the ball again.
*
“This is why I hate magic. It’s like a cold but even more stupid.” Clark groaned, lounging in one of the manor chairs.
“You don’t even get colds.” Dick pointed at him.
“That’s besides the point!” Clark huffed. “Magic is just inconveniences with time limits. That’s just stupid!”
“You have to admit, it’s a little funny though.” Dick looked at Bruce who was sitting on the couch across from them, awfully commanding and stern for a dog.
“Magic can be both entertaining and inconvenient. It can also be incredibly helpful or incredibly dangerous. You’re lucky that this is just inconvenient.” Zatanna brought them back to the topic at hand. “Like I said before, Bruce is still Bruce, he’s just in a dog form. Rather than risk straining his body or mind too much with a reversal spell, I think it would be best to wait this one out. It’s already been a week, so it should only last a day or two more.”
“Sure.” “Alright.” The boys replied together.
“Thanks, Z.” Dick said, rising from the chair he sat in. “I guess we can handle it from here then.”
“Glad to help. I’ll let you know if I can trace the magic back to a source.” She gave him a brilliant smile, bowing slightly to both Dick and Clark before vanishing in a puff of purple smoke and sparkles.
“I still hate magic. That was so dramatic.” Clark sighed, gesturing to where Zatanna was just standing.
“Clark, you literally fly.” Dick deadpanned. “Now, what to do with you.” He said, turning to Bruce.
“I can watch him.” Clark said quickly, his mouth getting ahead of his mind. “I mean, you’re busy with Gotham and Alfred is off doing enough already. I can take him back to Metropolis until he’s back to normal.”
“True. Are you sure? You’ve already helped a lot.”
“Yeah, it’s no problem at all! It’d be nice to have some company anyway.”
Bruce barked and they both turned to look at him. He barked again and again but whatever point he was trying to make was lost.
“Bruce, bark if you want to go to Metropolis with Clark.” Dick said, silencing him.
Bruce looked between them for a moment before letting out a soft bark, hopping down from the couch to sit next to Clark.
“Hmm, looks like it’s settled, then.” Dick considers Bruce for a moment before shrugging and walking with Clark to the front door.
“Alfred can drive you both back to Metropolis, and don’t say you’d rather fly because Alfred requested this which means, quite frankly, it’s not a choice.” Dick sighed and Clark gave a small chuckle.
“Thanks, Dick. I’ll keep you updated on whatever happens.” Clark gave the young man a pat on his shoulder before walking down to the sleek black car Alfred had pulled up front to receive them.
Bruce hopped in first, but waited for Clark to get in to settle down, curled up on the seat against his leg. Clark wasn’t sure why Bruce chose that position, but had some gut feeling that Bruce was uneasy, so he let one of his hands rest on Bruce’s back as they drove out of the Gotham gloom towards Metropolis.
*
When they finally arrived to Clark’s apartment, Bruce trotted around sniffing everything while Clark stopped to actually think about the situation. Where was Bruce going to sleep? What in the world does he eat? What had he eaten during the week it took to find him?
“Hey Bruce,” Clark said out to the air and Bruce came over to where he stood in the center of his living room. “What do you even eat? Do you want me to get some dog food or something for ya?”
Bruce growled in response, clearly displeased with the idea of eating dog food.
“Fine, so then people food it is.” Clark chuckled. “It still feels weird giving you full meals of people food, though.”
Bruce huffed and ran off again to continue exploring. The mix of very Bruce mannerisms with mannerisms that were clearly that of a dog was jarring. He was serious and clearly smart, but he got nervous about a car ride and curious about Clark’s apartment, which he has been to before as a human, too.
He goes to find Bruce to see the dog sticking his head in the toilet and immediately goes over to pull him out. So, he wants people food but is also willing to drink toilet water. Yeah, it’s a weird mix of mannerisms all right.
“What makes you want to drink that?” Clark says, astonished, and Bruce’s ears flatten in guilt. “Com’ere.” Clark says and leads Bruce out to the kitchen.
He takes a bowl from the cupboard and fills it with water, setting it on the floor. Bruce immediately begins to lap up the water.
“Sorry, buddy. I guess you haven’t had anything to eat or drink for a while.”
Bruce huffs, continuing to lap at his water. Clark opens his fridge to check on the food situation, grimacing at the stark emptiness of it sans a few take out boxes, a half empty jar of jelly, and some sliced cheese.
“Well, looks like it’s time to go grocery shopping, then.” Clark sighed, closing the fridge just as there was a knock on the door.
Both he and Bruce froze, looking at the door suspiciously before walking over to look out the peep hole, a human habit Clark had picked up despite being able to see through walls perfectly fine on his own. There was no one there, but a box sat on the floor of the hall.
He opened the door, picking up the large box and bringing it over to the counter. It was about a week's worth of food, mostly consisting of meat or vegetable based meals. He gives a look to Bruce.
“I’m assuming this is from the Waynes.” Clark says to him because even though Bruce himself didn’t order the food, it’s his kind of thing to do, which habit he has passed on to his ward.
Bruce just wags his tail and looks expectantly up at Clark, clearly wanting something to eat.
“Alright, I’ll make us some dinner, but we’ll be talking about your habit of buying things for people without asking first later.”
Bruce woofed and did a poor job staying out of the way while Clark made them food, which Clark suspected was on purpose.
*
After a fierce face off and chase around the apartment, Clark was able to wrangle Bruce into a harness and leash. As awkward as they likely both felt about this, Bruce would need to go to the bathroom at some point and the apartment floor was not the place to do that.
Once they got outside, Bruce seemed to forget about the whole being walked on a leash thing and enjoy his walk around the city. He was clearly reaping the benefits of being walked by someone who could not only keep up with any pace he set but also would never tire from it. They did an entire two laps of the park, only interrupted once by a very awkward pause for Bruce to go to the bathroom, before Bruce began to signal that he was ready to head back to the apartment.
Bruce stood awkwardly in the living room when they got back, watching quietly as Clark got ready for bed. He grabbed a few blankets and built a makeshift bed on the couch for Bruce, figuring that somewhere he could more easily move around or get water would be a good place for him to sleep. He also doubted that Bruce as a human would want to share Clark’s apartment bed, past experiences of him taking the couch coming to mind.
Bruce quickly jumped into the bed, spinning around a few times before settling into the mini nest of blankets with a sad huff.
“I know, buddy, I’m sorry. The spell should wear off soon.” Clark comforts him softly, patting him on the head before turning off the light and heading to his own bed.
“Goodnight, Bruce.”
*
Clark grumbled, unhappy to be awoken from his sleep. Then he remembered Bruce and shot up, looking around frantically before spotting him standing next to the bed, chin resting on the covers, wagging his tail.
“What’s wrong?” Clark asked, looking at Bruce for any sign of distress. “Do you… want to get up here?” Clark patted the bed by his side and watched as Bruce wagged his tail harder, letting out a bark.
“Shh, okay, okay, come up here.” Clark shifted slightly to give Bruce more room.
Quickly, Bruce slotted himself next to Clark. The thought that this is what Bruce wanted made Clark’s heart beat hard beneath his ribs. He took deep, steadying breaths, willing himself to fall back to sleep. The feeling of soft fur beneath his fingers and a warmth by his side lulled him back to his slumber.
*
There was a loud knocking at the door. Clark rolled over, burying his face in his pillow. Maybe whoever was here would go away. The knock came again, sharp and quick.
Clark sat up, the small flare of frustration he felt at his early, impatient visitor flickering out as he spotted Bruce lying next to him, completely human and very naked. His face flushed bright red as he looked at Bruce’s sleeping form, chest rising slow and even, morning light casting soft shadows on his scarred back and arms and ass…
The knock came again and Clark practically threw himself out of bed, scrambling to get out of the room before Bruce woke up to find him flustered and staring. He rushed to the door, pulling it open to find a very pissed off looking Lois outside, tapping her foot impatiently.
“Clark, where have you been?” She snapped.
“I- uh-”
“It took us months to schedule that interview so you better have a damn good excuse to have missed this.”
Lois was right to be mad, it really did take ages to get that interview with a source Lois desperately wanted and could’ve benefited from. Clark was trying his damndest to think of something to say other than to repeatedly apologize when both a blessing and a curse arrived.
“Oh, good morning, Miss Lane. Sorry to have stolen Clark here for the night, I didn’t realize he’d be missing something so important with you of all people.” Bruce flashed her his signature Brucie grin.
Clark and Lois both stared at him slack jawed. Bruce had Clark’s sheet draped loosely around his waist like a long, ill fitting skirt that let more of him show than what it hid. He confidently strode over to Clark, throwing an arm over his shoulder and leaning against his side.
“Oh don’t you get all playboy with me, Bruce. This was a very important contact.” Lois picked her jaw up from the floor, regaining her composure quickly.
“Send me the name and I’ll get you another meeting. I promise you won’t have to wait months this time.” Bruce dropped his camera-ready grin, making his promise seriously to Lois.
“Next time you’re in Metropolis, I expect a dinner interview, too.” Lois said, fixing him under her glare.
“Of course, Miss Lane.” Bruce nodded and she looked satisfied. She then turned to Clark, giving him a grin now that her anger was soothed.
“You sly dog, congrats.” She knocked him playfully on the shoulder with her fist before stepping back from the doorway. “Return him in working order, please!” She called over her shoulder as she made her way down the hall.
Once the door was shut, Clark whipped around to Bruce, blushing furiously.
“Bruce, what the hell?” Clark whisper yelled at him.
“What?”
“She- she thinks we-” Clark waved his hands frantically, “Slept together!”
“I’d say so, yes.” Bruce nodded sagely. “And we did, didn’t we?”
“Oh, don’t you be a smart ass with me. I have far too much blackmail to tolerate this kind of behavior.”
“Fine, fine. Is there a problem with Lois thinking that?”
“Well, I- uh… no. But I’m never gonna be allowed to live this down. Jimmy is gonna take her side and they’ll spend weeks grilling me for details, Bruce!”
“Hmm, so is the issue that you don’t have… details?”
“What?” Clark was suddenly very aware of the way Bruce was eyeing him up and down.
“If this issue is that you can’t lie about it, we can make it so you don’t have to.”
“You’re- you’re saying that you want to…” Clark trailed off, staring dumbly at Bruce.
“Only if you do.” Bruce said, a hint of nervousness betraying his otherwise cool demeanor.
A rush of emotions suddenly washed through Clark. Bruce… liked him back. He liked him and wanted him in the same way Clark has for ages. This couldn’t be real.
Bruce must’ve read something on his face because he stepped closer, lining his body up with Clark’s. He wanted to kiss him so bad, and it would be so easy. He could feel himself leaning in, unable to resist Bruce’s gravity.
“Don’t you want to talk about what happened? You were a literal dog a few hours ago.” Clark whispered, inches away from Bruce’s face.
“No one else knows I’m not still a dog besides Lois, who didn’t know I was to begin with. A few more hours couldn’t hurt.” Bruce had his eyes on Clark’s mouth.
“Wow, putting aside bat-work for little ol’ me?” Clark grinned, their noses brushing as he turned to hold Bruce against him, arms circling his waist.
“Shut up.” Bruce said and finally closed the distance between them.
The kiss was soft and tender yet it still made Clark breathless. When Bruce at last pulled back for air, heart beating wildly, they rested their foreheads together.
“Why now? I’ve wanted this for so long. Why now?” Clark asked.
“I had a long week to think about some things. And one day to make up my mind about some stuff.” Bruce said a little sheepishly. “Also, I got my own week of having enhanced senses while you did not get my enhanced control of your own. I could hear your heartbeat the whole time and it hid nothing.”
“If I knew that being turned into a dog would’ve made you fall in love with me then I would’ve called Zatanna long ago.” Clark chuckled and Bruce scoffed.
“It did not make me fall in love with you, I… it’s been longer than that.” Bruce said in a moment of fragile sincerity. “And I think I’ve far exceeded my quota for days spent magically morphed into a dog, thank you very much.”
“It was still kinda funny though.”
“For you, maybe.” Bruce huffed and pulled out of the embrace, Clark’s sheet trailing behind him as he took a few steps towards the hall.
“Now, do you want to lie to Lois Lane or not?” Bruce smirked at him and Clark felt his stomach grow warm.
Like an eager puppy, Clark followed Bruce into his bedroom, closing the door tightly behind him.