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Saturday morning had rolled in quicker than Bruce had expected - and he was now beginning to regret his decision.
Surprisingly, the children had woken up before him, practically setting up camp outside his bedroom door. Bruce just barely had the slightest chance of properly getting ready since they were all glued to his side. Well mostly Damian, who was still questioning him about the firefighter and Cassandra who would simply nod at whatever shirt would make the color of his eyes stand out best. Jason, fighting for his dear life to stay awake, since he wasn't used to waking up at such early hours, waited cozily on Bruce's bed, while Tim and Dick were quietly talking about a recent book they had read together.
By the time he finished getting ready and made himself a quick coffee - no cream or sugar, just black - and the children a quick breakfast, he had already put an end to three minor arguments and gone through another interrogation with Damian. All this and he's yet to make it out the door.
Bruce already knew, that a long day awaited him.
After saying a short goodbye to Alfred, he managed to get everything they needed not only for the long drive to Metropolis but for the whole day and everyone into the car. He slipped into the driver's seat, Jason and Dick arguing over who got to sit up front with their father - unaware that Tim had already slipped into the passenger's seat behind their bickering - while Damian and Cassandra made themselves comfortable in the back seats, already setting up the flip-down TV.
The beginning of the drive was manageable. No arguments or complaints whatsoever. Bruce was just starting to feel at ease, thinking that the rest of the ride would be just as simple.
Until an hour passed, Dick thought it would be a good idea to take over as DJ since the movie currently playing was starting to bore them. Unbeknownst to him, this would commence a third world war in their family car.
"No! We don't wanna listen your girly-pop shit Richard!"
"Hey!" Bruce exclaimed at the use of the curse word. Yes, he uses them all the time, but that simply doesn't mean he wants to hear his children use it around him - or at anytime for that matter. "Language, Jason."
"Not fair! You curse all the time!" Jason argues, proving the previous Bruce's own habit. "And it's true! If we're gonna listen to music, for the love of god - don't let it be Chappell Roan!"
"Jason, that's homophobic." Cassandra says, obviously trying to rile him up from the back set.
"Yeah Jason, you're homophobic for dissing Chappell Roan." Dick adds in smugly, smirking at his brother. Once Cassandra speaks up, everyone knows Jason can't stand a chance against her.
Jason dramatically gasps from such accusations. "How am I homophobic? I'm dissing you, not Chappell Roan!" He defends himself.
"Same thing." Tim mumbles from the passenger's seat without looking up from the book he's currently reading.
Jason groans. "I'm not homophobic! How can I be homophobic - Dad is gay, you literally have a boyfriend-"
"Who has a boyfriend?" Bruce interrupts.
And suddenly, the car goes dead silent.
Jason freezes mid rant, his eyes widening from what he just said - or the information he just leaked. "I- I mean-"
"No one!" Dick immediately interrupts him. He laughs, a nervous laugh that's way too bright, especially for these types of situations. A laugh that would hopefully convince his father enough. "Nobody has a boyfriend, that's crazy!"
Bruce glances at him through the rear view mirror. He could see the way Dick's face is suddenly changing color, resembling a bright red tomato. If he's correct, he could also see a bead of sweat beginning to form along his hairline and how he suddenly begins to nervously chew at his bottom lip. "Uh, huh…"
"I'm serious, no one has a boyfriend, Dad!" A nervous smile keeps grows on his face.
Jason takes notice of the state his brother was starting to get in. The guilt of it was starting to stir his insides. He didn't mean to expose Dick's (what was supposed to be a secret) relationship - it had simply just slipped out. Yet still, this was on him and he knows it. Thankfully for Dick, Jason knows exactly how to get him out of the mess that he caused.
"Yeah, no boyfriend around here Dad, at least not until we get to the fire station, that is."
Bruce's grip on the wheel suddenly tightens, his knuckles turning white. "Do not start with me Jason."
"Wait," Damian suddenly speaks up, the mention of the firefighter being the topic of the conversation caught his attention. There's a look of confusion on his face as he looks at Bruce through the rear view mirror. "The firefighter is your boyfriend, Father?"
Bruce exhales through his nose. If he could, he'd turn the car around without one bit of hesitation but that meant having to endure another hour of the chaos that has just arisen.
He loves his children, he loves them. He would do anything for them.
"No, Damian. He is not my boyfriend."
"Not yet!" Jason says. Bruce's jaw tightens. He can't believe he's going to have this conversation with them - for the second time. "What do you think the point of this trip is for, Dami?"
"Father, you said he was just a friend."
"He lies!" Jason shouts.
"How about we play a game?!" Bruce exclaims a little too loudly while still keeping his eyes on the road. That catches the attention of his other three children, yet failing to convince his older two.
Jason scoffs. "What game? The, 'guess who's Dad's boyfriend game,."
"I'm pulling over."
"No!" The car erupts with objections - expect for Jason and Dick who's laughing at how easily Bruce can lose his composure when it comes to the firefighter.
Jason glances over at Dick who is ducking his head in order to hide his laughter from Bruce. The conversation from before already forgotten after teasing their father, along with the earlier panic. Instead, it was replace with a quiet amusement. A gentle smile replaces the beaming look from the laughter as he nudges him.
Dick looks up at him confused but it washes away as soon as he notices the small apologetic look on Jason's face. He understood exactly what he was trying to say with the look alone, no words need to be spoken into existence. Jason's typical silent apology, that was just as strong as his verbal one.
He sends him a reassuring nod, and that was enough for them.
Dick is aware his brother can be a mess up more than he means to, but he knows his heart is in the right place. And yeah, he's definitely aware this conversation is going to come back and bite him in the ass once he's alone with their father - he's already dreading that conversation - but that's something future Dick has to worry about.
For now, they must focus on the task at hand: meeting their father's so called 'friend'. And judging by the reaction his father keeps giving them, he doesn't believe that this firefighter is only just a friend - or at least not yet.
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It seemed that Metropolis Fire Station 4 was never going to appear before them - Bruce could feel his right leg starting to act up from such the long drive. He wasn't complaining though, this was more important that an ache due to age, even if he won't admit that just yet. The children were starting to get equally as irritated from the long car ride; both Jason and Dick were beginning to complain about their knees from the tight space that came with sitting in the back, and Tim was irritable in his seat from needing to use the bathroom.
But once the sight of the fire station came to view, they knew the long ride was totally worth it.
The building still stood as taller than ever. The sun and it's warm radiance caused a halo to form around the building, making it seem like more of a sanctuary instead of a simple fire station itself. The bay doors were all open, showcasing two, gigantic firetrucks. The sight of them alone made the children gasp in amusement.
The station didn't seem to be as thriving as one would expect for a weekend morning, but it seemed that the firefighters did whatever they can to keep themselves busy. A few were stationed outside, checking the maintenance of the trucks, just as the last time Bruce was here. It seemed that they were always doing that.
There were a handful of them, lifting all sorts of different weights and gym equipment, probably getting their work-out out of the way, just outside of an open bay door. The thought of Clark possibly working out among them, made Bruce suddenly feel lightheaded. How the fuck was he supposed to keep himself together if Clark is gonna come out and greet him looking flushed and sweaty, his t-shirt threatening to tear with any stretch. Just the sight of him alone would send Bruce into cardiac arrest.
"This place is huge!" Tim exclaimed from where he was, practically glued to the car window as he took everything in, the urge of needing to use the bathroom forgotten. Bruce parked the car, somewhere that wouldn't disturb in case of a possible emergency. He barely took the key out of the ignition while his children were scrambling to yank their seatbelt off and scooting to the right side of the car to shove the door open.
"Hold on! The car is still on!" Bruce tells them while finally being able to switch the car off. He won't admit, he's just as excited as them - for a different reason though.
"Alright, listen up," He catches their attention with the sudden change of tone in his voice. All five heads attentively turn to him. "I expect, every single one of you - especially you Jason - on your best behavior, got that?" They nodded, yet he knew the words went in through one ear and out of the another. "I mean it. If I see any one of you be disrespectful to any of these firefighters or the space that they are inviting us in, I will not hesitate to take any or all of your privileges away - that goes for you too Richard. Got that?"
Once again, they nodded at him, this time with better understanding. They seemed to have gotten his point, yet Bruce still hoped that they will do as told.
"Great. Out you go-" The words were barely out of his mouth before they all launched themselves out the door, nearly shoving one another - Dick cursing in pain as his jaw got met with a tiny elbow through the process. Bruce suppressed a groan. Despite the chaos from his children, there was no other place he's rather be with them.
He held his breath for a short beat, mentally preparing himself for what was yet to come before he followed after them. The sunlight hit him square in the face, something he's still not used to after many trips of coming to Metropolis. Thankfully the children patiently - if that could be considered patient - waited by the car for him, their eyes filled with excitement and disbelief at the change of scenery that comes from visiting Metropolis. They jumped around like a rut of puppies, pointing at everything as if this were the first time seeing a fire station. Technically it was.
Bruce couldn't help but smile at the sight of their amusement. The chaos he had to endure was completely worth it after seeing the bright looks on their faces. Even if the purpose for this trip was to reunite with a certain firefighter, at the end of the day, what mattered the most was his children's happiness.
He suddenly became aware at how loud his children were when the firefighter's whom were stationed outside, all seemed to be looking over at them. They seemed to be confused from seeing a group of children vibrating with excitement next to a tall, pale man who didn't seem to have the same visible reaction as them. It wasn't until a group of them began making their way towards them, and Bruce froze in his spot.
It were the same ones that helped him out the first time he was here. They still all looked the same, as if they never left the place. All wearing those obnoxiously tight navy t-shirts.
"Hey! Look who's back?!" The blonde one greets Bruce first, giving him a pat on his shoulder, which surprised him if Bruce had to be honest. He wasn't as this friendly as he was the last time. "You got another ring you need taking off?" He jokingly asks, which only made Bruce want to roll his eyes. He knows he's only being friendly, but he can't help but feel there was something hidden behind his words.
"Are these all your kids?" The second blonde asks suddenly from behind the first blonde. Bruce can't remember his name. He could be such an ass when it comes to names, but he knows this one had an old-fashioned name, he just can't put his finger on it-
"Barry?!" Dick blurted behind him. Ah, yes, that was the name. Barry - wait, how the hell did Dick know that?
Bruce turns to him with a surprised look on his face, his brow furrowed. "How do you know this man?" Everyone seems to now turn to Dick, curious of the response he was about to give, but he didn't have the chance to answer.
"Hey, D!" The firefighter, Barry, saves him from answering, as he steps forward towards Dick to greet him with a fist bump. "Haven't seen you in forever! Hey, Wally tells me you guys are finally a thin-"
"No! Uh, we're not!" Dick cuts in, loud and panicked, waving his hands around as if the action alone would erase the words already hanging in the air. Bruce couldn't help but notice the reaction Dick had. Suspicion was already beginning to grow within him again. It was the same reaction and nervous flush he had in the car when the mention of a boyfriend was brought up. But…it can't be? The mysterious boyfriend? Wally - his best friend?!
Dick, flicked a frantic glance between his father and Barry, begging him to stop talking. Thankfully, Barry caught on quick, giving him a pat on his shoulder as well, before shooting Bruce a not so subtle smile. "Right, right," Barry says as he backs away, "I'm Wally's uncle!" He added, hoping that would help the situation.
Bruce said nothing, either due to shock or confusion from whatever the hell had just happened, but either way, his silence alone spoke volumes. He couldn't help but narrow his eyes at Barry , which only made the firefighter's nervous smile grow wider. It wasn't convincing him - yet before he could further ask any more questions, the third firefighter who was quiet until then, caught onto the tension and spoke up.
"I assume you're here for Big Blue?" Big Blue. Jesus Christ, he forget that was what they called him around here. Such a fitting nickname, he has to admit. Bruce turns his attention to him, nodding at what he said.
"Yes, we're here for the tour he offered."
"Oh, we know!" The other blonde says. "He's been raving about it ever since you left the other night. You could have done us all a favor and showed up after that day you know?" That got a laughter from the other two firefighter and, of course, Jason.
"It's all he's been talking about." Barry adds, as if that would make the situation any better for Bruce. It does, he can't miss the small flip he stomach made from that new information. To hear that Clark had been raving about this day just the same as him, made him want to squeal like a schoolgirl. Which was very unlike him.
"We'll go get him for you. In the meantime, Barry, T, get these kids some fire chief hats!" He says as he begins making his way to the station and Barry and T, according to the first blonde, went towards the building attached to the station on the side, leaving Bruce and the children alone.
Bruce could tell that Dick was trying to avoid making eye contact with him as he stood awkwardly by him. Tim and Damian were still eyeing the building and the trucks, whereas - for once - Cassandra and Jason were having a tame conversation on whether or not there was a pole in the station.
Bruce clears his throat, suddenly not knowing how to start a conversation with his eldest. "You could have told me." He mutters, not wanting his other children to catch on what he was about to say. "You know you can tell my anything." He reassures. He knows Dick knows that, it's something he'll never stop letting his children know. He would hate to see them struggle to be vulnerable around him. It's something he had to struggle with growing up and he doesn't want the same for them.
Dick is looking down at the ground, kicking at an invisible force awkwardly. "Dad, can we not have this conversation here, please?" He pleads, without looking up at him.
Bruce exhales, his shoulders easing slightly. "Yeah, of course, sorry." He couldn't help but reach towards his oldest, and giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, which broke the awkward tension once Dick leaned into his touch.
Once Barry and T had returned with some plastic fire chief hats for the children, the mood went back to normal. Even Jason was excited to receive one - even if he refused to show it. Damian eyed the hat with curiosity, turning it over and around before finally deciding to place it on his head. Barry, either was serious or just wanted to tease Bruce, handed him one as well, but he politely declined, which only caused the kids to whine at him.
Bruce was drowning in anticipation for the moment Clark would walk through the bay doors. He can't promise he won't fall to his knees once his eyes catch the sight of him. It's pathetic, he thinks, but he can't keep trying to convince himself that this is just a simple fire station tour. He's been waiting countless days to capture those darker blue eyes with his own, to hear his low and soothing voice once again, to feel the warmth grow within him that he hasn't felt in so long.
He was so lost in thought from thinking about the firefighter, that he didn't have a chance to proper acknowledge his presence.
"Sorry to keep you all waiting!"
Bruce froze at the sound of his voice. A voice he's sure he could pick up from anywhere. The voice that was the epitome of hot wax dripping onto open skin.
Clark was walking towards them, the sunlight from above framing him in a way that made him seem like a proper superhero. It suit him, considering he was a Metropolitan and worked a superhero job that required no cape - just really tight t-shirts and turnout pants that did the right job at clinging every muscle of his body. And were those…suspenders? He wasn't wearing those last time or else he would have clearly remembered. His curls, still as perfect as the last time, were styled and pushed out of his face, giving Bruce a better view of his face. It seemed he had just quickly styled his hair from the slight damp look it had.
Bruce inhaled, refusing to exhale in fear that he'll make a fool out of himself with whatever noise he was holding in. He was not going to embarrass himself in front of these professionals and his children. He was determined not to.
Clark's smile grew bigger - if that could be even possible - once his eyes found him. A brightness, as if he suddenly became the human form of the sun shone on his face. The look of it alone, made Bruce weak in the knees.
"I'm so glad you made it!" He says, sending him at smile that was only meant for Bruce before turning over to the bunch of kids that now, instead of standing where they were in front of Bruce, cowered behind him. That is, expect for Jason and Dick.
"Jesus Christ, you're huge." Jason mumbled under his voice, seemingly unaware he spoke it out loud.
Clark laughed at his obvious observation, his dimples peeking out loud and proud. "Yeah, I get that a lot." He replied to him heartily. He stook his hand out, waiting for Jason to take it. "Clark Kent, I'm going to be your guide for today's tour." That damn smile, still had not yet fallen from his face.
Jason took his hand, giving it a firm grasp. Once Clark let go, he leaned closer to Dick's ear, whispering, yet failed at making his comment go unnoticed by Bruce, "Dude, you weren't kidding about the muscles."
Bruce kicked elbowed him, gently of course, as a warning to not start. Of course, Jason was completely unbothered by it and only sent his father a smug look.
Clark made sure to shake every one of his children's hand, but as he got to Damian, the boy couldn't help but shoot him with one of the many questions he had prepared for him. "How many times have you nearly died on duty?"
The question completely caught everyone off guard, not unaware that these were the type of questions Damian was going to interrogate Clark with. Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, already feeling the embarrassment rise from within him. "Damian-"
"No, no it's okay!" Clark laughed softly, surprisingly.
"See, it's a valid question." Damian says without a beat and went back to looking at the firefighter. "I just need to make sure. Father doesn't appreciate someone who is careless." That only made Clark laugh harder, along with the other firefighters standing behind him, that still had yet to leave.
Clark crouched to meet his level, he stuck out his hand once again towards Damian. "I'll make sure not to be careless from now on then, alright?" Damian, giving him a skeptical look as if saying 'I don't trust you, yet, but I'll let this slide', finally shook his hand.
Clark sprung back up to his feet, and finally stopped in front of Bruce. Suddenly, it seemed that they were the only people to exist, everything around them blurring out in seconds. "A pleasure to see you again." Instead of greeting him with a hand shake, he greeted him with his typical bright sideways smile, clasping his hands behind his back, and invading his personal space, yet respectfully of course. There was a whole crowd surrounding them after all.
Bruce couldn't ignore the closeness, and it made him shyer than he already was. The warmth of Clark's body radiated off him, enveloping him whole like a hug. It was the same warmth that Bruce was yearning to feel once again. A warmth he wants to properly feel against his bare skin alone.
A shy smile grew on his lips, betraying his put together demeanor that he was trying so hard to keep up till the end of the tour. Who would have thought he'd fail the moment Clark acknowledged him? "A pleasure seeing you too." He replies softly, not daring to break eye contact with the man. "I hear someone's been looking forward to this." He tips his head slightly, not failing to notice the dust of red coat Clark's cheeks.
"Alright you two," One of the firefighter's cut the hazy tension that was beginning to swarm the area. "We'll leave you to it, Big Blue." The blonde one smacks him - yes smacks him - on the back before turning to the kids. "Keep an eye out on these two, alright?" That earned him a few giggles from the kids. Clark immediately steps away from Bruce, taking the warmth with him.
"And have fun!" Barry chimes in, smiling dearly at all of them.
"And please stick to Clark's side or your father's, please. We don't want any accidents occurring." The third firefighter, T, says. Bruce still hasn't caught the other blonde's name, and he's starting to be bad since there's a chance they probably know his own by this point.
"Thanks T, thanks Barry, you too Guy. I'll take it from here." Ah, so that's his name - Bruce will have to keep that in mind until the next time he has to see them. That is, if there is a next time. They all nodded at Clark, each sending him a knowing look that only the four would understand. They gave one last wave to the kids before making their way back to the station, going over to a woman firefighter who stood against the truck, arms across her chest waiting for them to get back to her.
"Alright!" Clark turns back to them, a bit too ecstatically. He starts leading the way towards one of the open bay doors, that now seems to be vacant of any firefighter that were there before. "I didn't catch everyone's name!" He says as he goes to stand in an empty area in front of a truck.
The children seemed to have been mesmerized by the new sights around them, especially the fire truck that towered in front of them. Behind them against the wall were multiple storage racks, their gear in full display for them. The infamous tan turnout gear with the yellow stripes along with their helmets and all sorts of equipment that should be needed were there, almost luring them to try it on.
Bruce could laugh with adoration at the idea of one of his children in the oversized firefighter gear, practically drowning in it. Well, Dick or Jason could probably pull it off, now that he thinks about it.
To answer Clark's statement from before, Tim was the first to step forward. He was still carrying the same book he was reading in the car - one about firefighters. "I'm Tim." He says proudly. "I read that firefighters can see through smoke with special cameras, is that true?"
Clark sends him a smile as he nodded. "Yes, we can. They're thermal imaging cameras, or TICs for short. Do you know how they work?" He asks him with a hopeful glint in his eyes as if thinking Tim would know the answer to the question.
Predictably, Tim nods at him. "They detect infrared radiation, which then converts a visible image onto a screen, right?"
"You're right! And that allows us to do what?"
Tim's smile only grew bigger, finding the only chance to showcase his firefighter knowledge - that he gained from lots of reading these past few days - to be put to good use. "They then allow you to see heat signatures through the smoke and helps you locate any victims in need or assess other fire conditions!"
"Exactly!" Clark exclaims, practically buzzing from excitement. "That's incredibly impressive, Tim. You know more than I did when I first started." Tim keeps beaming up at him, hugging his book closer to his chest. The plastic fire chief hat beginning to cover his eyes from how much he had to crank his neck to meet the Clark's eyes.
The next to step forward is Jason, which causes Bruce to slightly tense. This is either going to go two ways, the bad or the horrible. Bruce starts praying for it to head the direction that's further from disaster, especially since it's Jason we're talking about. "I'm Jason." Was all he said, surprising Bruce by the short answer.
"Jason," Clark echos while nodding at him.
"Yeah, so, when are we gonna get on the trucks?" He asks without a beat. With the mention of the firetrucks, everyone's head perked up. It seemed that was the part they were most excited for.
Clark laughs. "In a just a bit, don't worry. They're not going anywhere." He reassures him. "You've ever been on one?"
Jason shakes his head. "Nah, but I've always wanted to. They look kinda fun to drive."
"They're actually harder to drive than you'd imagine." Clark says, having to burst his bubble.
"Yeah, I bet - still worth it though. Especially since you're a firefighter and all." That statement caught Clark's attention immediately.
"You've ever thought about being a firefighter?" He asks.
Jason crosses his arms over his chest, his expression unreadable. "Yeah but, too many rules to follow. I tend to," He gives a quick glance at Bruce. "not really like authority." Bruce rolls his eyes at his answer. Here we go.
Clark only laughs at his response, completely unfazed. "You know what, fair enough. I'm not really a fan of authority either, especially authority that comes after the people that don't have much to defend themselves with."
Jason sends him a faint smile. "You got that right. What changed though? You're obviously a firefighter now."
Clark tilts his head, pretending to think it over. "Guess I found a team I didn't mind listening to. Also, coming to terms that being a firefighter is more than just following rules but as well as-"
"Saving people." Jason finishes for him.
Clark hums in agreement. "You know," He continues, "You've seem to have the confidence for it. What are you? The oldest brother, second oldest?"
"Second oldest." Jason answers without a doubt.
"Then you've already got half the skills for it." Clark tells him with an encouraging nod. Bruce had no idea what he could have possibly meant by that, but it seemed that it awoke something within Jason. He blinks at him, surprised from such a genuine answer. He mutters a short thanks as Clark sends him a smile.
Before he has the chance to say anything else to Jason, Damian steps forward. "Firefighter, statistically speaking, how many fires have you put out?"
Now this question completely catches Clark even more off guard compared to the one he asked earlier. He blinks at him before laughing lightly. "Damian right?" Damian nods at him as Clark crouches down to his level. "Ah-well, many. It's more of a team effort thing than just me on my own."
Damian, seemingly unimpressed at his answer, frowns slightly. "So, if my father were to set the kitchen on fire due to his poor cooking skills, would you be able to put the fire out alone or fail which would result to his death?" To anyone, such a question would come off as slightly playful and a joke, but Bruce knew, this was one of Damian's serious questions that hid a special meaning behind it.
Clark looks up towards Bruce. There's a softness in his gaze. "I'd do anything in my power to keep your father safe."
Damian narrows his eyes at him, still not fully convinced. "Anything?"
Clark breaks eye contact as he turns to look back at Damian. "Anything." He reassures him.
Something within Damian finally clicked, and if Bruce was already shocked enough by what Clark said, he was even more shocked upon seeing the corner of Damian's mouth lift into a smile. It's definitely the biggest achievement of the night he must admit.
The time finally came when it was Dick's turn to introduce himself once Clark stepped in front of him. Bruce found himself holding his breath without meaning to. He seemed to be far more nervous about how his eldest would interact with Clark. Whether he'd approve him or not. This was it - the moment where he'd decide whether this was a good decision, on his end and for his children.
Dick hesitated to speak at first. Bruce could see the way his eldest was studying Clark with his gaze. It was only for a second, but it felt like an eternity to Bruce.
Before Bruce's thumping heart could quite literally break through his chest, that natural, sly grin that his eldest has perfected grew on his face. "I'm Dick." He says in a steady voice.
Bruce felt like the whole world was lifted on his shoulder as he released the breath of air he didn't notice was holding. He wasn't the only one to drown from the pressure of the situation, but Clark as well, with the way he saw his shoulder's fall with relief.
Good to know that they both going through this together.
"Dick," Clark echoed warmly. "I assume you're the oldest?"
Dick simply nods, his posture open, head tilted slightly up to get a good view of Clark as well.
"And what about you? You've ever think about joining the department?" Either Clark was trying to secretly recruit more rookies into the department or he was genuinely trying to get to know him. "Especially since you're the oldest - the oldest sibling always have this sort of tendency to keep everyone in line, have quick thinking , you know?"
Bruce could tell Dick was processing the question by the way his brows furrowed and his mouth twisted to the side, as if no one has ever asked him such a thing. "I mean…not the fire department specifically," Dick admitted after a second of getting his answer together. "I think I'm more interested in becoming a detective. It's in the same category though right? Helping people and all."
Something in his answer made Clark's face brighten. "Yeah, one could say so. You like the idea of helping people?"
"Yes, in any way, no matter how risky it can be. Although, it's the main reason of my Dad's silver hair."
Bruce scoffed under his breath. "It's not the fact that you are helping people out Richard. It's the fact that you can be reckless about it sometimes." He defends, his jaw going tense after. Both Clark and Dick chuckled at his quick reaction.
"Sometimes you need a bit of recklessness in your life." Clark says, mostly to Bruce as he's now looking straight at him. With those alluring, deep ocean eyes - Bruce would walk into the sea of Clark's eyes and refuse to stay afloat.
"See Dad," Dick cuts his thoughts short. "Clark knows exactly what it's about." He turns to Clark, the smile on his face not failing to enlighten the space. "I like you."
With those three words, Clark stiffened in his spot. He just got verbally approved by Dick, Bruce's oldest son. Whether it was an official approval or not, he was not going to take those three words for granted. Instead, he's going to keep them close to his heart - and probably reply them for the rest of the day.
It was finally time for Clark to acknowledge the small figure, glued to her father's side, appearing like a miniature version of her father. Although, there was nothing shy about her, Clark could tell by the way she held herself, the way her eyes scanned the building with curious yet watchful eyes.
But the thing that he noticed most, was the way she was eyeing the firefighter equipment hanging in the storage racks behind them. He could tell that there was a wanting to try them on - he's seen that same look one too many times during these same tours.
Could he blame them - who wouldn't want to try on firefighter gear?
"You wanna try one on?" He asks as he gently crouches back down to her level. She didn't get startled by the sound of his voice, but she seemed to have squeezed herself closer to Bruce's side. "They could be a bit heavy, but it's so worth it. Come on, I'll show you." Clark extends his hand towards her, sending her an invitation he hopes won't be rejected.
Cassandra eyes him closely, looks back at the storage rack once more, and then looks up at her father, silently conversing between one another with their gazes alone.
"Go ahead." Bruce says quietly yet tone filled with affection.
Excitement immediately broke through her composed expression, the corners of her mouth lifting at the go from her father. She placed her hand onto Clark's rough edged yet welcoming hand, and allowed him to lead the way.
Bruce watched as they made their way to the countless firefighter uniforms, his other children begging for a turn as well. Clark crouched once again, a turnout coat held out in front of her so she could easily get into it. Heb was right about the gear being heavy - once he placed the coat onto her shoulder, Cassandra's posture visibly slouched. She was practically drowning in the heavy fabric, the coat just barely reaching under her knees, the sleeves hanging comically over her hand. Then came the firefighter helmet - a bright yellow helmet, with dents and scruffs, evidence of everything it's gone through. He placed it gently on her head. It covered half of it, her eyes barely managing to peek out from underneath it.
But the sound of laughter than came out of her afterwards, surprised Bruce. It was a sound that only a few were worthy to witness in their lifetime, one that only came out in the most intimate moments between him and his daughter. Yet, it appeared that Clark was able to achieve this in no less than ten minutes.
"It appears we have a new probie in our hands!" Clark says brightly as he tilts the helmet upward, revealing Cassandra's glowing eyes filled with excitement. "What do you say? Wanna join the force or what?"
If it could have been anymore possible, her smile only grew more than before, practically taking up half of her face. "Absolutely!" Cassandra exclaims as she flaps her hands, the oversized sleeves of the coat going in every direction. She then turns to Bruce, "Dad, do I look like a real firefighter?!"
Bruce's face softens, the curve of his mouth failing to stay hidden, but he couldn't care any less - not with the way he daughter was practically glowing. She glowed with such radiance, like a full moon that enlightened every dark corner of his life that was far from the light of the sun.
And when Bruce's eyes drifted from her to Clark, who was still crouched by her side, smiling fondly, the contrast between them was blinding. His daughter, the full moon that illuminated his nights and Clark - as crazy as it sounds - the human version of the sun he had no idea he'd been missing until he stepped into its warmth.
"Yes." He answers quietly. "The best one I've ever seen."
After Cassandra had a few more moments to herself with the gear and Clark recited a few facts about the gear, the boys had a turn as well. It was definitely a sight, Bruce can't help but admit. The older boys, were permitted to even try on the turnout pants, and thankfully there were suspenders or they would have been struggling to keep it from falling to their ankles. Damian and Tim, still filled with many unanswered questions for Clark, were glued to his side. As for Cassandra, she was now out of the gear and back to Bruce's side, but this time, she seemed to be more comfortable and pleased with the tour.
Clark took them deeper into the station, talking about anything and everything firefighter related with a sense of someone who genuinely loved what he does. Bruce couldn't be more impressed at how patient he was with his children. Every time the children would burst into a childish argument or ask a string of questions, firefighter related or not, Clark seemed unfazed by it all.
If anything, he looked more fond from it all. Whenever they all spoke at the same time, something that thinned Bruce's patience more than he'd like to admit, he would raise his voice - not with a strict tone, but rather warm and steady, carrying enough authority that won't scare them. And what shocked Bruce the most - they would actually listen to him.
His chaotic, bright, stubborn, children, whom never took orders unless they were from Bruce or Alfred themselves, would simply apologize - "Sorry, Clark", "Sorry firefighter", "Apologies" - and give Clark their undivided attention once again. It's as if patience never ran out with Clark. Sure, it's all probably due to the fact Clark has done multiple of these tours for other groups of children, therefore giving him enough enough from constantly being around kids - or he's just a natural with children.
The thought of that only grew the fire that was already growing deep Bruce's heart. It startled him, don't get him wrong, he has already established that he wasn't going to be careless about this, but seeing his children looking up at the firefighter with such fondness and respect, only made Bruce fall harder. He brought the children here, thinking that they'd be too much of a handful for Clark and they were bound to cut the tour early because of it. It never occurred to him that just maybe, his children would actually like Clark nor that Clark would be able to handle them not just well, but beautifully.
His inner monologue of the situation was cut short when Jason asked Clark, sounding a bit more excited from before, about seeing the firetruck up close and in action for once. That only made Clark laugh, and signaled to follow them all back to where they began the tour.
They stopped in front of the towering, bright red, truck. Seeing it up close, his imagination went wild with the idea of Clark being in the truck, fully suited in his turnout gear, and fulfilling his firefighter duties. Then, the idea of Clark in the turnout gear came back to him, the blood rushing up to his ears and the room suddenly feeling too warm for him.
"Alright, now for the grand finale!" Clark gestured towards the gleaming truck behind him. "This here is, Engine 3." He introduces the truck as if it's apart of the crew itself - which technically is. They could only gasp in excitement and disbelief. "There are actually three types of firetrucks, does anyone know what I'm talking about?"
Once again, Tim was the one to shoot his hand up into the air, as if his life depended on answering the question. Clark nodded at him to answer, a knowing look already plastered onto his face. "There's the fire engine trucks, which transport a large amount of water and a pump so water could get through the hoses and extinguish the fire. Then there's the rescue trucks and these carry the technical tools to get through any other situations beyond standard fire suppression. And finally there's-"
"Okay Timothy- we get it."
"Jason."
"What? He's taking so long to answer." Jason whined.
"It's okay. Let him finish," Clark motions for Tim to continue, even if he now appeared unsure. "Go ahead Tim, you just need that last one." Clark encouraged him.
Although Tim's posture seemed to have slugged a bit into himself, Bruce knew his kid would never miss an opportunity to use his genius - if Bruce's says so himself - skills of his. "Um, well, the third is the ladder truck. They carry the aerial ladders which help firefighters get access to high places."
"And that's all correct! We actually have all those three here in this station, and the one right in front of you all, is an engine truck! Now if you come over here, this is where we keep the hose." Clark leads them towards the front of the truck, his children following him without hesitation.
As Clark gave them a tour of the outside of the truck, lifted all sorts of cabinet doors and pulling equipment out of their stored places, he even briefly pulled out a wooden axe which sent the children into another thrill of amusement, Bruce was finding himself becoming more and more mesmerized with the scene unfolding before him.
It wasn't until he open the driver's door, that seemed why to tall for his children to get onto themselves, that made the scene even better to view from afar. His children listened attentively, a joke slipping from here and there which would make Clark laugh along, as if he was used to their banters for years at that point.
They each took turns hoping into the driver's seat, of course with the help of Clark - Jason and Dick insisted that they were able to get in themselves. Each one of his children looked like they were on top of the world, begging for Bruce to snap as many photos as he can that he will definitely be showing Alfred once they returned back home (he won't lie, he took a few candid photos of Clark helping them into the seat), and even with Clark's permission, sounding the siren.
It warmed Bruce's heart. Actually if he had to be honest, it burned him from within. But it wasn't a painful, second degree type of burn, it was a harmless one but would leave a captivating scar. Although he wouldn't mind if the firefighter himself would treat the burn, of course since it is his job.
"Your turn Dad!" Cassandra exclaimed as she, with the help from Clark, jumped out of the seat and came over to his side. Bruce looked up from the countless photos already filling his gallery, in surprise at his daughter's sudden request.
He tried to keep a bright smile onto his face, but it appeared to be more of a sheepish half smile. He waved his hand, as his doing so would dismiss it in total. "I think I'm going to pass on that one sweetheart."
If someone had a physical list of Bruce's weaknesses, the top of the list would be his daughter's mastered-in-the-art-of-winning-over-a-parent's-heart expression. He always, found it difficult to decline anything with that expression alone. It practically stared touched his soul. "Come on, Dad." She begged, her hand now gripping onto Bruce's as she looked up at him.
"Yeah, Dad!" Tim exclaimed from behind her, where he stood next to Clark.
Bruce shook his head but it was no used, because now Cassandra was still gripping onto his hand. "I-I don't have the right shoes." It was true - he was currently wearing his black cap-toe dress shoes, but he knew that the excuse was a poor one that will be dismissed by his children.
"I'll help Alfred with chores for the month if you go!" Dick exclaimed with a hopeful tone that would get his father to do what they were asking him of. But that only make Bruce laugh under his breath. Dick, helping Alfred with the house chores? His son was a good son, but was not that good.
"Dick, you still haven't cleaned up your room from the last time I asked you to." With that sudden honest answer, Dick dramatically gasped, as his cheeks flushed a bright red. He crossed his arms over his chest while looking away from his father who had just put him in the spotlight. Especially in front of someone like Clark, who he found to be the second coolest person he's met so far - Wally being the first.
Yet before Bruce could reply, the voice of his second child sounded from next to Clark. And in that moment, he knew he had just signed his death certificate.
"Oh come on Dad." Jason's voice, filled with mischief cut through the station, already sending Bruce into a spiral before he even had the chance to embarrass him with whatever he had planned. "I'm sure Clark here would take great care of you hopping on it."
The silence that took over the station was suffocating.
Tim and Cassandra looked at Jason with a look of annoyance and disgust. Damian seemed to be the least affected, the joke completely going over his head - which Bruce was glad. Dick laughed into his hands, looking away from them all. Jason still stood next to Clark, arms crossed over his chest proudly. He refused to hide the smirk that was plastered onto his face.
And then there was Clark. A polite yet startled smile on his face, along with a look that implied if he should laugh as Jason's joke, that he exactly understood. If Bruce wasn't so frazzled with what just happened, he would have been paying more attention at the shade of pink that dusted Clark's cheeks.
The warmth within his body wasn't a good one now, it was dangerously scolding hot and burning every surface of his body. His cheeks and tip of his ears being the most effected. He blinked at his son, ever so slowly, the blank expression of his coming off a bit too terrifying. His jaw flexed, his mind deciding on whether grounding his son for life or for eternity would be the better option.
Or he could just hand him over to Alfred, see what he decides.
"Really Jason?" Bruce said, a bit too quietly yet just loud enough to imitate the sound of a ticking time bomb.
"What? I'm just being real - isn't that right Clark? You'd take good care of him right?"
Clark began to choke on his words before they managed to escape out of his mouth. "I-I'm…no yeah-"
"Clark, you don't have to answer that." Bruce cuts in, his hands coming up to wave the stuttering mess Clark now was dismissively. "I'm so sorry about him." He sent him a genuine apologetic smile, hoping that Clark would understand.
"N-no, no, it's okay…I'll help you…on-" With Clark saying that, it had only made matters worse. Jason's smirk only grew bigger, and Dick's suppressed laughs have now escaped from where they hid behind his hand.
"Oh god…I need a breather - this is gold." He says through his laughs, his shoulders trembling, as Bruce sent daggered glares at both his two eldest sons. He pinched the bridge of his nose, as he looked down at the station floor. Cassandra was still holding onto his hand, and if it weren't for her, he would have completely spiraled from Jason's embarrassing comments.
"I'm sure Father can get on himself. He doesn't need help." Damian, for the first time since the humiliating conversation, spoke up.
"Yeah," Jason said, a bit too brightly. "He surely can get onto the fire truck himself - On Big Blue over here? I don't know."
"Okay, that's enough, Jason Peter Todd."
The station got silent once again. Jason's posture straightened quicker than lightening upon hearing his full name. Even Dick's laughter quieted down from Bruce's sharp voice. He focuses back to Clark, eyeing him a bit too much, but only for the reason of whether there were an expression of regret or embarrassment written on his face - Bruce wouldn't blame him if there was.
"I'm deeply sorry about that." Bruce begins waving for his kids to come back to his side, which they did without reluctantly. He didn't ignore the glares that Cassandra and Tim were sending to their, so called eldest of the family.
Clark shook his head, his posture deflating as the children left his side, leaving him alone. "Bruce, it's okay. He's a teenager - I know how teenagers can be."
"A handful." Bruce mutters as Jason stands by him, glaring at the station ground. "I think we should end this tour short-"
A chorus of protest was already beginning to raise from his children, but Clark was the one to beat them in speaking up first. "Oh Bruce, no please don't-" He stepped forward, his hands raising in somewhat of a pleading gesture, but he caught himself before he could get any close. "Well I mean, if you have to, of course, but truly, it's okay. Just this one thing, and then you can go." Clark gaze bore into his eyes, his stare just as powerful as Cassandra's puppy eyed expression. An expression almost coming off as unintentionally devastating.
With his look alone, Bruce felt his chest tighten, his breath getting caught in his throat. He hated how his children - and now Clark - could easily disarm him.
Speaking off, Cassandra tugged at his hand once more, his gaze switching to her. She was looking up at him, eyes filled with a softness and hope. "Please, Dad." She whispered. Bruce sighed, as he looked over at his other children, their eyes pleading at him silently. He could swear that even Damian was pouting at him.
Clark took another step closer before he could make up his mind. He cleared his throat, making Bruce face him once again. "I'd really like if you stayed."
The look that he gave him - Bruce could have fallen onto his knees if it were only them two in the station. He couldn't control the wave of heat that coursed up to his face once more, along with the corner's of his mouth twitching into the tiniest smile.
He nodded with a bit of uncertainty over what he's getting himself into, especially in front of his children. "…Fine." He muttered, soon after his children erupted in a cry of cheers and Clark's smile only grew bigger, his gaze refusing to leave Bruce. His shoulders seemed to drop with visible relief. He reached out to Bruce, his hand extended in front of him, his calloused palm facing up - and suddenly Bruce was experiencing deju vu of the moment they sat alone together in this same station, Bruce letting Clark take his hand in his. It was a simple gesture, a harmless one even. It was Clark simply doing his job, but at that moment, Bruce felt everything would change.
Bruce blinked at the open hand in front of him. He felt like the hand alone was offering more than just help with getting onto the truck. It was an invitation to something more. He cleared his throat, hoping that his voice doesn't betray him with cracks as he spoke the next words.
"I-I can manage…" He swore he heard one of his two eldest groan behind him.
"It's a high step," Clark tries to say casually, but failed. He seemed to be in anticipation for something. "I wouldn't want you to slip." He adds, his words more softer than usual.
Bruce tried to look anywhere but him and his open hand. His inviting and probably warm hand, that was way too big, which Bruce hated. He also hated how he noticed a faint scrape of dried soot on his fingers, probably from touching the equipment throughout the tour. And most of all, he hated how his heart was trying to beat out of his chest, his body already reacting over Clark's touch way before he even touched him.
He sighed for the hundredth time that day, before finally, placing his hand into Clark's. He sends a silent prayer to the universe that Clark doesn't notice the slight tremble and clamminess of his own hand, or else he'd have to hide in a cave and never come out.
Yet, it didn't seem like Clark noticed those things. Instead, he tightened his grip ever so slightly and took him towards the open door to the driver's side of the firetruck. Once standing in front of it, Bruce grabbing onto the hand rale on the inside of the door, his other hand still in Clark's, he then realized it wasn't such a high step. It was definitely something Bruce could manage. But the idea of Clark, saying otherwise, probably just looking for the right excuse to get close to Bruce, made him swoon even more.
They were close - closer than the last time they were here in the station. If Bruce took a short short step back, his back would undoubtedly be against Clark's chest. He was so close, he could smell every scent that lingered on him - smoke, laundry detergent, and a hint of sandalwood and vanilla. He had an earthy aroma, warm and comforting.
He smelt like home.
When he lifted his foot onto the step, as if on instinct, Clark braced a hand lightly at his lower back. It was a small, supportive touch, professional, yet Bruce found himself forgetting how to breath from the touch alone. With a quick boost, and with help from Clark surprisingly guiding rather than lifting him, he was soon sitting in the driver's seat.
His children were gathered around him and Clark now, looking up at him with such devoutness in their eyes, from seeing their father up high. Clark stepped back a little, looking up at him with the same expression, only difference, it was paired with an unfairly sweet smile. There was such fondness in his eyes, that Bruce could swear he was going to catch a fever from how warm his body was getting from the look alone.
Suddenly, Clark's eyes widened, and in a an instant, he turned back to the equipment from the storage racks. Once he returned, with something in his hand, he stood in front of Bruce once again, his smile so big, Bruce wonders if his cheeks ever get sore from the amount of smiling Clark does.
"One last thing," He says, reaching out to Bruce, and placing an actual firefighter helmet over his head. "Now, you look like a true firefighter." Bruce stared down at him. There's a chance his cheeks are now permanently red from the amount of blushing he's been taking part of today. "Doesn't he look like one of us now?" Clark asks the children, his eyes refusing to look away from Bruce, sitting in the firetruck, wearing his helmet.
"Honestly Dad, you could have pulled off the firefighter look." Dick agrees from next to Clark.
"Father as a firefighter? Not in this lifetime." Damian says, as he crosses his arms over his chest.
"Oh come on, Dami." Jason is the next to speak up. "Wouldn't he be a cool firefighter?"
The idea of his father being a firefighter still didn't sit well to Damian, he simply just shook his head and looked away from his older brother.
"Whatever, I think he looks pretty badass." Jason says, while looking up at his father smugly.
"Jason." Bruce warns from where he sits.
"You're lucky Alfred isn't here to tell you off about using profanity." Tim mutters next to him, yet refusing to drop his smile.
"Oh please, I'm positive Alfred would agree with me!"
"We'll see about that." Dick says, the sound of his phone camera ringing next to Jason, as he took a not so secret photo of Bruce.
"Pfft, okayyy," Jason then turns to Clark, his smug look only growing bigger and more menacingly. "What about you, Clark? You think Dad looks pretty badass?"
The children took their eyes away from their father to look over at Clark, who's still, looking up at Bruce like a devoted follower looking up at their saint. He didn't answer at first, he seemed to be to much in his head to even realize that Jason asked him a question to begin with. And that was the problem - because here was Clark, surrounded by Bruce's children, in his workplace, quite literally on the clock, Clark had zoned out everyone and everything around him.
All his mind could focus on in that moment was Bruce. Bruce staring down at him as he sat in the firetruck, wearing his helmet, a tint of pink still dusted on his cheeks. His dark clothes that contrasted with the bright reds and yellows of the station, yet managed to look like they were perfectly tailored for Bruce alone. Strands of his hair sneaking out from the beneath his helmet, taunting Clark to take a step forward and brush them out of his face.
Clark didn't care that the kids have had probably picked up on what exactly was going on. He'd have to deal with that later, now, he was going to capture every single detail of the moment and engrave it into his memory.
When he broke out of the small trance, he blinked - as if waking up from a dream too good to be true. His mouth suddenly went dry when it occurred to him what Jason had asked him. "I-I…" He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I mean. He looks…"
In that moment Bruce's eyes widened a fraction. He heartbeat beginning to beat probably as fast as a NASCAR race car. Yet, Clark still had the audacity to smile wider at him.
"…pretty badass." Clark finishes, quieter than he expected, like the words were meant only to be heard between Bruce and himself.
Behind him, with their reaction alone, Clark could only assume that the children approved his answer. Tim hid a grin behind his hand from the interaction between his father and Clark. Jason smiled smugly at the pair, wheres Dick, also grinning like the Cheshire cat himself, patted his shoulder, as if the situation was the work of Jason. Cassandra's gaze flickered between Clark and her father, reading the interaction as best as she could, until finally deciding to send her father a warm smile and a look so bright it outshone the sun. Damian, still mildly confused but finally putting the pieces together of what was happening, only sent Clark somewhat of a 'possessive' look and muttered something under his breath, but followed by a smile soon after.
Bruce however, looked like the wind had been knocked out of him and was finding it difficult to breath.
He didn't dare to move - he sat froze in his spot, his head slightly ducked from looking down at Clark. His ears, still a bright red, peeked from beneath the helmet. His lips - those lips that have taken up most of Clark's mind since that first night - were parted as if he wanted to say something but the words seemed to be caught in his throat. But the look he gave Clark - it wasn't filled with uncomfortableness nor deflect, but softness.
Suddenly, Clark had the urge to kiss that expression off his face.
"Why don't you guys go check out the pictures on the wall?" Bruce tells the children after finally managing to find his voice. "There's a few interesting ones from some of their trips - and a couple silly ones of Clark." That only made the children giggle at his comment, but it appeared that his two eldest understood what Bruce was getting at, because they soon helped lead the other three to the wall that were filled with countless photos.
"Clark," Bruce spoke out to him once it was just the two of them. Clark's racing mind filled with the man sitting in front of him stopped at the sound of his voice.
"Yeah?" He asked immediately. His gaze bright and ready for whatever Bruce was about to say. He could preach about anything, and Clark would be sitting at his feet listening to every word attentively.
Bruce stared at him for a moment too long and then - "Come here." Bruce's hand reached out to him, surprising the firefighter from the gesture. In an instant he placed his hand in Bruce's, his body already reacting in many ways from experiencing his touch once more. Bruce carefully, placed Clark's hand over his knee, which made him suddenly jolt from where his hand rested, his posture stiffening.
Bruce seemed to find his reaction funny since a soft chuckle escaped through his lips. "Relax," He muttered, as he brushed his thumb over Clark's knuckles. The touch alone, soothed Clark just right. "I wasn't going to bite."
Clark turned a bright shade of red, his breath getting caught in his throat once again. "Well…I-I wouldn't mind if you did."
Bruce scoffed under his breath as he playfully nudged Clark's shoulder. "That's not what I meant. Although I'll remember that, in case of a next time."
This time Clark was the one to laugh, a soft and low type of laughter that sent erupted sparks within Bruce's chest. "As long as next time is pretty soon."
"Oh definitely - or else you're gonna drive the other firefighters insane with your nonstop talking about the next time."
"They told you about that?!" Clark exclaimed. a bit too loudly.
"Indeed they did." Bruce smiles at him, his thumb still lingering over his knuckles, tracing figures. "Jokes on them, I like a man that yearns."
With that being said, Clark's gripped on his knee tightened, a bit too dangerous especially with the close proximity they put themselves in. His other hand instantly came up to rest on his other knee as he took another deliberate step towards Bruce.
Bruce's breath hitched - Clark was getting so close he was beginning to feel the warmth radiating off his body. Clark stood between his knees now, short circuiting Bruce's mind.
Neither dared to say a word, nor move - at least not yet - but the distance between them was barely a width and was beginning to suffocate them. Bruce's gaze flickered low to Clark's lips, then back up to his sapphire eyes, as if asking for permission to do something more without daring to voice it.
Clark caught on, slowly becoming lightheaded. "Bruce…" His whisper cut through the thick tension lingering around them. It was so quiet, he was afraid Bruce had barely picked it up. His hands - although he hopes Bruce has not noticed - were slightly trembling, yet he still managed to brush his thumb once on the inner part of Bruce's knee, slow and deliberate. "You can't say that stuff unless you mean it - unless you want me to-"
"Want you to what?" Bruce interrupted. His voice barely a loud enough for Clark to hear felt more like an exhale than a well pronounced syllable.
"Want me to do something about all this yearning."Clark leaned in even more, his voice dropping so low, that Bruce could feel the whisper of it against his own lips.
The words felt like a spell, a sudden bewitchment that captured the both of them. Clark was at the brink of passing out, his breaths, low and shallow as his chest rose in shaky inhales. His body felt light, as if he was beginning to float off the ground, the only thing keeping him grounded was Bruce's touch from under his palms.
Bruce was no better. His inhales came in hard. He now had a strong urge to initiate something that could burn them both, and it was beginning to scare him. His fingers twitched from wanting to grab Clark by the collar and pull him in - wanting something he knew he shouldn't have. From deep within, he actually thought Clark was going to kiss him right then and there - and Bruce would let him -
But his children were only a few feet away from them…
As quick as the spell had taken them under, Bruce broke it in an instant as he pulled away. His grip on the hand rale he was still holding onto tightened, his knuckles going white as if it really did pain him to pull away from Clark. He swallowed hard, his eyes breaking contact with Clark's and instead traveling down to Clark's hands, that still rested over his knees.
Clark noticed, the realization hitting him like cold water, putting out the flames that grew furiously around them. As much as it pained him, he gave one last squeeze to Bruce's knees, before lifting his hands off them slowly. A look of guilt flashed over his face, which didn't go unnoticed by Bruce. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have - I got carried away."
Bruce shook his head immediately, sharply, as if the very idea hurt him. He wanted nothing more but to take Clark's hands and put them back onto his body, where they belonged rightfully so. "Don't apologize." His voice was quiet yet firm, wanting to make a point that Clark would understand. "I initiated it. I wanted it - it's just that…" His gaze moved over to where his children still stood around the wall of pictures and then back to Clark.
"Right…" Clark said softly, but he still didn't seem quite convinced. His mind betraying him otherwise, making him think he ruined what they had going on.
Clark looked wrecked with guilt in the softest way, in front of him and it pained Bruce to see him that way. He'd prefer to see him in that state in other circumstances, but like this, filled with guilt - it didn't sit right with him. He didn't want Clark to feel like he overstepped, like he is the one at fault here.
"Clark," His hand came up to Clark's cheek, the touch making Clark jolt once again, as if he'd just gotten burnt. Clark's eyes were wide and filled with a quiet guilt, his pupils completely blown. "It's okay. You didn't do anything wrong." His thumb brushed over a litter of freckles that were painted across the apple of his cheek.
Clark's shoulder's dropped, his breath getting shaky once more. "I still shouldn't have - not while your kids are here. I got carried away, I'm sorry-"
"Then I did too." Bruce's voice was steady, even if his pulse wasn't. "I got just as carried away. Maybe more."
Clark's breath came to a halt from the confession. He blinked, too stunned to say anything, his head beginning to feel weightless once more. Bruce's hand on his cheek, grounding him like an anchor, just enough to keep him from literally fainting from his overwhelming emotions.
"I don't want you to think you ruined anything." His thumb was still brushing over his cheek. "You didn't do anything wrong." He repeated once more, making sure that this time, it would stick to Clark with the steady and sternness that was carried in his tone.
With that, Bruce reluctantly withdrew his hand from Clark's face yet not all the way. Just enough so the children wouldn't question anything - enough for the warmth of his hand to leave a delicate burn onto Clark's cheek.
Clark inhaled as his head tilted downwards. "I just…I really wanted, want, to kiss you."
Bruce felt the words hit him like a bat hitting a game ending grand-slam.
His gaze, betraying him as always whenever he was near Clark, lowered back down to the firefighter's lips. "Believe me, I know."
The tension from before slowly began to creep it's way back around them. Clark exhaled hard. "A-And…you wanted to as well?"
Bruce didn't dare to look away this time. "I did - I still do, I mean."
The quiet sound that came out of Clark's lips was part relief, part disbelief, due to Bruce's second confession. Before his mind could go any further, Bruce nudged him gently. "But," He continued as he glanced over to his children, whom now all seemed to be focused on them, but looked away in an instant after being caught. Jason was playfully elbowing Dick, as the eldest said something that made the other laugh. Tim and Cassandra were pretending to read a plaque as if it were the most interesting thing in the whole station. Yet Damian, oh Damian, was staring straight at them without any shame or remorse, his gaze mostly on Clark, at the same time trying to study him and throwing mental daggers at the firefighter.
Bruce couldn't help but chuckle softly by the sight. He cleared his throat, as he came back to the situation he was currently in. "But not in front of them - not yet. They still need time…"
Clark immediately nodded, a small smile immediately growing on his face, taking over the guilt expression. "Of course."
Then, Bruce leaned in, just a fraction, just enough for Clark to hear his next words. "But I meant what I said Big Blue." He murmurer playfully. "Next time. Soon."
"Yeah? You promise?"
Bruce wasn't one to smile - the only people worthy enough to see his smile were obviously his children and Alfred - yet the smile he gave Clark right then, was devastatingly soft, the rarest one he could ever give to others.
"I promise."
Clark's smile broke into a blinding grin, and the sight of it alone, only made Bruce's smile grow just the same.
"Dad?" Dick's voice carried from across the station. He was now facing them, a knowing look on his face. "Tim and Jay are getting hungry."
And just like that, they were pulled out of the moment. Bruce blinked as he shifted from the romantically flustered Bruce to the responsible father Bruce in seconds. He straightened his back and tried - keyword, tried - to pretend he wasn't within kissing distance of Clark in the middle of a fire station, where he still sat in a firetruck, wearing his helmet.
"Right." He said softly, his voice still soft around the edges from Clark. "I believe that's my cue."
A look of disappointment flashed across Clark's face but it was then replaced with an understanding one. He stepped to the side, extending his hand for Bruce to take once again as he pushed himself off from where he was sitting and then gave him space that neither of them wanted.
Once Bruce's feet were back on the ground, he swiftly took the helmet off his head, and returned it back to Clark. The children were now gathering around behind him, waiting for their father's next move.
Clark took the helmet from him gently, the idea of the tour coming to an end and Bruce and his children having to leave, suddenly filled him with some sort of emptiness. As much as he wanted this day to last, he knew Bruce had more essential duties to attend to. He gave Bruce one last fond look, before turning back to the children.
"Well, out time here as come to an end." He announced, noticing the way the children's shoulder's dropped. "I really had a blast - you guys have no idea!"
"Oh I think we do…" Dick muttered, as he leaned into Jason's side enough to whisper to him, but of course, was heard by Bruce.
"Not you too, Dick." Bruce sternly said.
Clark chuckled under his breath. "It's fine. He's right." He shifted the helmet under his arm so it could rest against his hip. "I haven't experienced such amazing guests before you guys-"
"Thanks to Dad."
"Jason." This time is was Cassandra that spoke up, and the tone of his voice alone, made Jason stand straight. The interaction only made Clark chuckle even if his face was currently burning from slight embarrassment.
"I hope you guys come back very soon. I'd love to show you all even more." Clark continued.
"Yeah," Damian spoke up, yet his tone was a little less hostile than usual. "If we return, you must go through some demonstrations of your emergency extraction protocols."
"You got it!"
"Can we also slide down the pole next time?" Tim asked from where he stood next to Damian, his hopeful eyes staring up at Clark.
"As long as your dad is okay with it - then absolutely!"
In an instant the kids all turned their heads to look at Bruce, waiting to see what Bruce's verdict of another trip would be. Bruce, still too caught up staring at Clark from the way he was talking to his children with such gentle and fondness, barely noticed they were all staring. It wasn't until Dick elbowed him as well, that brought him back to his senses.
"Of course." He says, which was followed by happy cheers from his children soon after - if he wasn't wrong, he also picked up a cheer from Clark himself. He only smiled even brighter. "Alright, time to go. What do you all say to Clark?"
Like a school choir club, the children all thanked Clark in a chorus and bid him their own personal farewells. Cassandra thanked him sincerely and Tim followed soon after, but finished with hugging Clark's waist briefly that only melted Bruce's heart. Jason sent him a wave and Dick followed after with dramatically saluting him goodbye. Damian only nodded at him, as if giving him some sort of approval - more like a royal decree.
Soon after they began making their way towards the entrance, the children walking ahead of them, leaving Bruce and Clark once more.
"Thank you." Clark's voice broke the silence between them as they were now outside of the station. Bruce looked up at him, confusion written on his face.
"I should be thanking you - you hosted an amazing tour. You, surprisingly, were able to manage the chaos that are my children." Clark laughed at that.
"No - I know, I know, but still. Thank you," He stopped moving, which caused Bruce to do the same. "For trusting me with them. For coming back."
Bruce felt his chest tighten - oh god, if he didn't faint before, he was definitely going to faint now. He blinked up at him, once, twice, as if he needed time to process what Clark said. He wanted so badly to reach out towards him, feel the burning touch of Clark's against his skin. Feel the warmth from his body linger like the warmth of Clark's breath against his lips before they were about to kiss - a kiss they weren't yet allowed to have.
As if reading Bruce's mind, Clark reached out, slowly, just enough for Bruce to pull away if he wanted to. He didn't.
His calloused fingers brushed Bruce's wrist, a light touch yet heavy enough to leave an imprint on Bruce. It was a simple touch but felt more like a promise to him - a reminder that the spell between them hasn't broken.
"Hold on," Clark murmured and with his another hand dug into his front pocket to look for something. Once he found what he was looking for, he brought Bruce's hand closer, and placed a light object into his open palm. "Here."
Bruce knew what it was even before he looked down. A folded piece of paper, the scribbles of a black pen, dark enough to bleed through the paper for Bruce to make out a few numbers. He met his eyes again, the smallest, softest smile settling on his lips.
"For next time, you know?"
Bruce swallowed, his brows pulling together as he stared at the man in front of him - the man that somehow has managed to burn every surface of his heart in the right way and the same man that comes to put it out and take care of his burns. "Next time." He echoed, though it came out quieter than he intended it to be.
And Clark - god, Clark lit up from the words alone like Bruce was the one that had just handed him the folded piece of paper instead.
Bruce gave one last grip to Clark's hand before retreating it back, he forced himself to breath and come back down from cloud 9. "I'll call, soon." He said, his words sounding more like a promise to Clark than just a simple phone call.
Clark's smile deepened, his dimples coming in full display. "Good, I'll be waiting."
Before Bruce can say more, before he could slip deeper into the hypnotic trance, a sudden shriek from his children caught his attention.
"Father!" Damian exclaimed from where he stood with the rest of his children near the parked car. Bruce's head snapped up from the tone hidden behind Damian's voice. He did not want to make Damian impatient.
"I should go." He murmured, even though every part of him begged him to stay exactly where he stood.
Clark nodded at him. "Yeah. I don't want to send you off with hangry kids."
The corner of Bruce's lips twitched up to form the beginnings of a smile. "I've dealt with worse." Bruce began making his way towards his children. He looked at Clark one last time, with tender flickering behind his eyes. "Goodbye Clark."
Clark's fingers twitched at his side, practically having to stop himself from reaching out again. "Goodbye Bruce. Drive safe, okay?" There was such care behind his words, like they had been carefully sculpted from pure love.
Bruce sent him once last smile, before nodding at him and walking away from Clark, yet Clark's warmth followed him like a second shadow.
Once he made it to his children and the car, the smile on his face refused to drop. Upon unlocking the car, Tim was practically already climbing into the passenger's seat, beating everyone else from taking the spot once again. Damian really did seem to be impatient from the way he tapped his foot, arms over his chest yet he picked up the small hidden smile on his face.
"Finally!" Jason groaned dramatically as he pulled open the back door, Bruce stepping forward to hold it open for them. Damian and Cassandra beat him from getting in, which only made Bruce chuckle. "I was beginning to think you were gonna leave us to starve for the firefighter."
"Cut that out, Jason." Although in any other circumstance Bruce would have carried his words with a sternness, but now, he just couldn't care.
"Ewwww Dad, are you smiling?" Dick teased him once it was his turn to get into the car.
"I think Father has been hit with lovesickness." Damian commented from where he was now buckled up.
Bruce rolled his eyes at them both, but the smile stayed. "Getting sick with 'lovesickness' isn't a thing Damian. And get in the car, Dick. Don't think I forgot that conversation we're going to have later." Dick's eyes widened, his face slightly reddening, as he climbed in.
Once everyone was buckled up - Cassandra and Damian began to turn on the movie they were watching from before, Tim already turning the page of his book, and Jason and Dick teasing each other - Bruce made his way to the driver's door. Before opening the door though, his fingers brushed the handle, he paused and looked back at the station. Clark's warmth from where he touched his wrist still lingered, like an ember refusing to go out.
He exhaled like a lovesick fool - Damian was right, he could be a victim of this so called lovesickness - before opening the door and sliding into the driver's side. The feelings from earlier were still weighing heavily upon him. His mind was still replaying every moment. Clark interacting with his children so easily, Clark standing mere inches away from him, his lips so close to his own.
He has no idea how he's going to get through these next few days. It's all he's going to be thinking about.
The weight of the folded paper weighed heavily in his pocket now. It was a promise for something more and Bruce was okay with letting it consume him whole. Today he walked into the fire station and somehow come out carrying a flame of his own. A flame of their own. A flame he was terrified of bringing to life for many years. A flame he promised to never relight ever after his past relationship.
Yet for once, he was sure, he didn't want to put this one out. For Bruce Wayne - careful and guarded Bruce Wayne - for once will allow himself to let the flame grow. After all, some fires aren't meant to be put out.
Some fires are meant to be fed.