Chapter Text
Begin Again (TV) — Taylor Swift
When Bruce woke up later that day around twelve in the afternoon, he felt rested for the first time in a very long time.
He yawns as he makes his way to the bathroom to freshen up and shower. He’s got some work to do down at the cave and some improvements to tweak on his suit before the next patrol shift.
Alfred was downstairs in one of the living areas, on a huge round table he was sifiting through different boxes. There was documents, files, photographs, small antiques, and books scattered on it. Bruce walked in curiously.
“Morning Alfred. Dory said you’d be here.” He said leaning against the frame of the opening of the room.
“Ah, good afternoon, Master Bruce, there is lunch made in the kitchen, you should go eat.” Alfred said looking up from the journal in his hands.
“Not hungry. What’re you doing?” Bruce asks instead.
Alfred sighs, “Master Bruce I highly advise you best eat some—”
“Is that my mother’s photo album?” Bruce interrupts as he steps closer until he’s right next to Alfred.
The butler places the journal he was reading down and gives a pointed look at the younger man. He knows he’s not gonna get him to eat.
“If you must know. It is sir.” Alfred takes the photo album and opened it.
The page he opened it up to was of when Bruce was four years old and was going to his first day of preschool. There was a total of eight pictures. Four on each page.
Six of them were just of Bruce. One on the staircase, two outside by the car, another two by the front door entrance and one more of him eating breakfast. The small boy in the pictures had his uniform on, a white crisp dress shirt, his blue and gold tie, a suit jacket with the schools logo on it. Black dress shorts and long white socks with some very overly expensive dress shoes for a kid.
Bruce looked at the photos and immediately froze. The memories he once thought he’d never look back on suddenly came rushing back. The smile on the little boy’s face was so foreign to him now.
His eyes moved across the page to the last two polaroids. It was Bruce and Thomas in one, and then the last was of all three of them together. A family photo.
Bruce’s eyebrows furrowed inward as he stared holes into the photo. His mom looked just as beautiful as he remembered and his dad as sweet as ever. And most of all, he himself looked so pure and innocent, smiling so big and so happy.
“Put it away.” Bruce said suddenly.
Alfred was taken aback as he withdrew the album from Bruce’s vision.
“Sir, with all due respect, perhaps you should take a look at some of these things. I was just cleaning out some of the storage rooms, and came across a lot of Madam Martha’s belongings.” Alfred tried explaining as he closed the album and placed it back on the table again.
Bruce turned to look at him, and his light blue eyes were filled with a rage and discomfort.
“What made you think you could look through this?” Bruce asked sharply.
And now. Alfred was no stranger to the man’s coldness. He practically raised Bruce. He knew he was mean without really wanting to be. Alfred was the closest thing he had to family and not by choice, he’s always known that his place in Bruce’s life is nothing more than just circumstantial. He’s here because where else would he be. Here because he’s not heartless enough to leave a little boy alone when he promised his father he’d look after him no matter what.
To Alfred, Bruce wasn’t a burden or a responsibility. He was his family, even if to Bruce he was just someone forced to stay by tragedy.
“Last time I checked, it was me who helped your mother organize and store these items. She herself told me what was hers was mine. I don’t see why—”
“Well she’s not here anymore. So put this shit away Alfred.” Bruce said harshly.
“Master Wayne. I will not tolerate this sort of attitude. If it is Gotham you are angry at, if it is the Batman who has you frustrated, I please ask to not take it out on me.” Alfred said sternly. He could take a lot of bullshit from Bruce but straight disrespect was not one.
Bruce clenched his jaw as he stared down his butler. He knew he was being difficult and an asshole but seeing all these belongings was a lot. Bruce hated being reminded of what was taken from him, he hated knowing that there was traces of his parents around.
“Whatever. Sorry.” Bruce said so monotonously and quiet. Anyone else would think he didn’t mean his apology and wasn’t being sincere. But he was. The man just lacked a lot of emotion nowadays.
Alfred was always worried he would one day inherit Madam Martha’s mental health illnesses and not realize because the boy refused to ask for help.
Depression was something Alfred was without a doubt certain Bruce had.
“It’s alright sir. Now like I said before, lunch is in the kitchen. Please do eat.” Alfred said giving him a soft look of understanding before going back to his organization.
Bruce silently sighed and looked away, he glanced over one last time. His frown was evident and maybe Alfred was right, the lack of eating and nutrition in his body was properly making his attitude much uglier than what it usually is.
With his ego bruised and his pride lowered, he walked away, deciding to find a distraction. He needed to get out of this house.
Perhaps a visit into the city to find one, would clear his mind. More specifically, a certain reporter might still be in town, all he has to do is find where he was staying at. Easy.
But first, he’d indulge Alfred and eat something.
Clark woke up bright and early. After last night he knew he had some work to do if he was gonna get to the bottom of this drug.
He had woken up around nine in the morning, showered, ate breakfast at the hotel (for free!) and wrote down some starter notes and drafts in his laptop for awhile before deciding to go out into the city to really see the people. He had been looking online for any good places nearby where he could eventually sit and write and found a diner across the street on the corner from where he was staying at. He changed into some rather baggy jeans, a black t-shirt and a dark green flannel over it. He also grabbed a beige corduroy coat since it was cold. Securing his glasses and his old brown satchel he headed on his way.
Gotham city in the daytime was beautiful. The city looked an awful lot like its neighbor, New York, but it also had a lot of architecture you’d only see here and in England.
Clark had stayed at a hotel in Downtown Gotham. He knew it was a little more expensive but it was safer and he was also trying to see if Bruce Wayne would be around the Wayne Ent. Tower which was a block away from the hotel.
For awhile, Clark just walked around the city, entering small local stores and doing a bit of sight seeing. There was a good amount of different billboards all around the buildings, all lit up and advertising different things or news. Many people crowded the sidewalks as they made their daily commute to work or school. But the sun didn’t shine through its thick cast of grey clouds.
Clark noticed the way everyone despite interacting with eachother were also in their own world. Nobody you walked by greeted you the way people did in Metropolis. It was as if every Gothamite lived in paranoia. Get from point A to point B, no stops.
By the time Clark reached the diner, it was now around two in the afternoon. He entered and was sat down at an empty booth by the window.
“Thank you.” He told the waitress.
She smiled, “Of course, can I get you anything to drink to start with?” She asked.
“Coffee with extra sugar and cream would be nice, please.” Clark replied with nicely.
“Gotcha! That’ll be out soon.” She said before walking back towards the countertops.
Clark pulled out his laptop and his small notepad. He flipped back to the page where he wrote down the newly learned information about the drops. He recalled the odd man he met along side. The makeup he wore, his dark hair and pale skin. The way the night made him hard to really look at and remember.
Once his coffee was placed in front of him, and his food order was placed, he got to work. Typing away everything he knew so far about Gotham, the atmosphere of the place. The protesters he passed on his way here. The young adults he saw last night dancing away while intoxicated with a drug that could ruin their lives instead of at a much tamer party.
…
Finding where Clark was staying at was easy. Nothing a quick simple search into hotel records couldn’t get Bruce. He mastered a lot of hacking techniques during his time in Russia. The Prestige Hotel in Downtown Gotham. It was only twenty minutes from the Wayne Tower. Bruce took this as an opportunity for a run in. Clark knew about Metropolis and he could probably serve as an informant for Bruce.
And maybe making a friend didn’t sound so bad either. He’s run into Clark way too many times before to just go back to ignoring it. He’d listen to the universe for once, perhaps he’d find something he wasn’t looking for.
Bruce faintly recalls his father the first time he met Clark.
“friends are good“
Bruce quickly finished only half of a cucumber sandwich, some berries, and a couple sips of a protein shake before he went upstairs to change into something more appropriate for a casual visit to the Wayne Tower.
“Hmm.” He hummed to himself as he picked out a white dress shirt, a dark grey vest and no tie today. Just that and some matching fitted slacks. He was never much on wearing fancy shoes he very much preferred his completely blacked out converse. And God if Alfred was to ever see this combination he’d get a lecture but Bruce didn’t care. He picked his converse and a black trench coat. On his way out he picked out a pair of sunglasses, and his car keys.
The manor was quite the drive from the city so he left, around one and made it to Wayne Tower at exactly 2:13 PM. He parked on the side of the road, albeit he’s paying when he doesn’t have to, but he didn’t feel like going through valet and having to actually go through the building. He just wanted to walk around like a normal civilian.
Normal civilians don’t linger outside of hotels hoping to coincidentally run into someone. But then again Bruce was antisocial. He didn’t really know what normal civilians did.
He hadn’t been recognized yet as he stood near a lamppost and just casually smoked a cigarette. But his paranoid mind was already playing tricks on him. He didn’t wear his contacts today, so even when he thought someone was looking at him suspiciously—not knowing if they truly were was beginning to bother him.
So he tried his best to relax as he paced a bit making it seem as if he was waiting to be picked up. A couple taxis rolled their windows down but he quickly shook his head no and looked away.
He was beginning to get impatient. It wasn’t like he could just go up to the receptionist and ask about Clark Kent. That would be weird, borderline stalking.
“Excuse me Miss.” Bruce said clearing his throat. He still had his sunglasses on and he tried his best to look down.
“Oh—Sorry sir, yes how can I help you?” She said spinning in her chair to face him.
“Um, I was wondering if you could tell me which room someone was in? It’s a…friend.” Bruce said very lightly.
She quirked her eyebrows at him, almost as if she was beginning to recognize him before sighing.
“I’m sorry sir unfortunately I’m not allowed to disclose that information. I can call up to their room and let them know you’re here if you’d—”
“No!” Bruce interjected fast. He bowed his head back down.
“I mean no it’s okay, I’ll just see if I can call them myself. They’re probably still asleep.” Bruce said sighing.
The lady stared at him before nodding apologetically and going back to her work. Bruce cursed himself at how stupid this all was. He was the Batman for fuck sakes, what the hell is he doing.
He walked back out the hotel and decided to just head back to his car. Maybe he’d try again later at night. Or maybe never.
With his hands in his pockets he walked over to the street intersection and waited for the light signal to cross the street. He was halfway across the road when his eyes caught a glimpse of what he had been waiting for.
Right in front of him, was Clark fucking Kent, just sitting at a diner, his head leaning against the huge window as he scrolled through something on his laptop. Holy shit.
“Holy shit!” Bruce said outloud as the cars he had stopped infront of honked at him to move and startled him.
He ran the rest of the way and made it onto the sidewalk where the noise must’ve caught Clark’s attention because when he looked up, Bruce saw the man was staring right at him through the window.
His mouth was slightly opened in surprise and Bruce could tell Clark’s eyes were starting to recognize him. Clark said his name and Bruce couldn’t hear it but he could make it out from where he stood outside.
He didn’t know what to do, so he just turned to walk towards the diner’s entrance but Clark must’ve thought he was walking away since by the time he reached the door, he was already standing there with a worried look on his face. His glasses askew a bit.
Clark fixed them before smiling in the slightest, “Bruce? Is that you?” He said.
Bruce looked up at him only a tiny bit, “I’m sorry, do I know you?” He settled on saying.
Clark visibly deflated. His shoulders slumped and his eyebrows flattened, his eyes blinking a few times while he tried not to frown.
“Oh, um, well—I wouldn’t say know. But we’ve met. I’m Clark Kent?” The older said.
Bruce pretended to think about it, scratching the back of his head as he pushed a strand of hair away from his face.
“Oh, yea actually I remember now. You look much different now.” Bruce plays up.
Clark huffs out a small laughter, “Heh, yeah it’s been a while I guess. You look different too.” He said.
They stood there awkwardly for a few seconds before someone else entering barged through them.
“Excuse me.” They said before walking off.
“Sorry, I um I have a table if you wanna join me maybe?” Clark said gesturing to where his laptop was still open at. Bruce wanted to tell him to never leave his things unattended especially in Gotham.
“You’re not gonna interview me are you?” Bruce said trying to joke but Clark took it serious.
“What? Oh heavens, no! I wouldn’t just do that, not like that. I mean I just wanted to catch up since you know, but it’s completely off the record. I promise.” Clark quickly said, and the faintest blush blossomed on his cheek. In that moment Bruce regretted not wearing his contacts.
“Relax Kent, I was joking.” Bruce deadpanned before walking towards the table. Clark stood in place watching him for all of five seconds before clumsily following along.
Bruce sat in front of him and took his glasses off. The place wasn’t too busy, but he did sit with his face turned away from the window. Clark sat down, scooting his things closer to himself.
“Sorry I was just, working on stuff.” Clark said closing his laptop and placing it in his bag.
“It’s fine.” Bruce said.
Clark smiled, “Right, um do you want anything to drink? or eat? I just finished but I can get a dessert or something so you don’t eat alone.” He said.
Bruce tilted his head slightly, he knew his face gave away his surprise at the offer. This guy truly was too good to be true. How kind of him Bruce thought.
“No, I ate already too thanks.” Bruce said not thinking it through.
“So then what were you heading to a diner for?” Clark asked genuinely.
Oh right. Bruce thought, he did walk in here claiming to not recognize Clark. Which meant he was here to just eat. Normal civilian right.
“I was going to buy a pie to go. For my…butler.” Bruce murmured the last part. He didn’t want to come off as pretentious.
Clark certainly didn’t think so.
“That’s actually, really sweet. Are they any good? I’ve never been here before so…” Clark said with his gentle smile.
Bruce was lying out of his fucking ass as he looked around, from what he could gather, the pecan pie seemed to be the one with the most slices cut out of it meaning it must be popular. Therefore making it good.
“Yes. The…pecan pie is good.” Bruce said so toneless he sounded mechanical. At that he sighed at himself.
“I’ll get some to go to then.” Clark said however. Bruce looked up at him and for a moment his heart skipped a beat.
Here in the light, Clark’s eyes weren’t truly as blue as he thought they would be. They seemed a bit dull, slightly bluer than the sky but still dark and tired.
Even so, he did look just as well as Bruce remembered him. His skin was flawless, and the stubble he saw last night was clean shaven and gone. Bruce’s hands itched to reach out and run a hand against his jaw. He wanted to know what it felt like.
Clark cleared his throat, a little taken aback by the strong gaze Bruce was giving him. Those light blue eyes tiptoeing the line of gray and green suddenly locked in on his face. Clark knew Bruce was lost in thought because he had asked him how he’s been but didn’t seem to react. Just continued to stare.
Was Bruce staring at him?
“Bruce?” Clark said again.
That seemed to have snapped him out of his haze as he furrowed his eyebrows and looked down.
“Sorry, I just thought I lost you there for a sec, are you alright?”
Bruce takes in three deep breaths before speaking.
“Yes I’m fine, I was just wondering why you are here.” Bruce said. “In Gotham I mean.” He adds.
“Oh.” Clark said surprisingly, “I’m just here on work business. I leave back to Metropolis in two days.”
Bruce nodded acting as if he didn’t already know.
“Metropolis huh? How’s that?” Bruce asked.
Clark was an open book.
“Man, it’s amazing. I love it over there you know? My friends at the Daily Planet and my job are really great.” Clark said smiling brightly. Bruce nodded along, listening.
“What about you? How’s it like being back in Gotham after your uh…long vacation…” Clark said uncertain of whether to call his disappearance that.
“It’s the same. I left to escape this place. I probably wouldn’t have returned if it wasn’t for the company.” Bruce decided to talk today.
“So I heard…that was crazy. It was wrong of them.” Clark said shaking his head and a moment of anger flickered across his face, “Taking from someone when they weren’t here to defend themselves. Gosh, it’s awful. I’m sorry you went through that.” He said offering a kind gaze.
Bruce hadn’t ever been treated with such decency. Such humanity.
“Thank you…” Bruce found himself barely whispering.
“Of course.” Clark said.
Bruce wanted to be swallowed up and thrown into an abyss. God he was so socially awkward. This was probably the longest conversation he’s had in a while that isn’t about the Batman. He felt so out of place but then he’d look at Clark and it was like the world stopped spinning. Something about him just made him feel interested. Restless. And curious. He wanted to know everything there was to know about him.
Bruce used to hyper fix on different things growing up. When he was four he was obsessed with The Gray Ghost show. And up until he was six his bedroom was full of it. And then at seven he became infatuated with fossils and dinosaurs. Which then led him into his interests in animals and science at eight and nine. He couldn’t just pick up a hobby or an interest and casually like it. He went all in. Learned every detail he possibly could.
But Clark Kent wasn’t just another thing. He was an actual person. And that terrified Bruce. What was it about him that caught his attention?
“So what’re you working on?” Bruce asked eyeing the notepad he remembers from last night.
“Eh, just you know crime related stuff. I don’t want to bore you.” Clark brushed it off with a light shrug of the shoulders.
“I like crime.” Bruce said before he even realized what he was saying. I like crime? Really? Bruce mentally sighed.
Clark laughed. He laughed. His eyes crinkled at the corners, his smile widened, and the sweetness sound Bruce thinks he’s ever heard erupted from deep within his chest.
“Is that what the Bruce Wayne is into these days?” Clark joked as he still held his grin.
Bruce looked enamored with the way he was staring at Clark. Star struck. Focus Bruce, figure out why Clark is so intent on this drug.
“I just read about it…” Bruce said shyly.
Clark’s expression softened as he spoke, “Sorry I wasn't laughing at you. I thought it was just funny, I wouldn’t have taken you for the type to be into crime related news is all.”
“Well I am, occasionally at least. I’m also into hockey…” Bruce said trying to sound less weird.
“Hockey? Hm, is it any good? I’m more of a baseball fan myself.” Clark said fidgeting with a pen of his.
“You never told me what you’re investigating.” Bruce decided to avoid and change the subject back. Clark sighed very quietly as he leaned back in his seat.
“It’s just, frustrating I guess. I’m at a dead end. There’s a new drug going around in Metropolis and I feel like it’s coming from within here. Except I have no leads as to who might be distributing it and why they’re going for Metropolis when the drug only ever appeared here.” Clark said as he ran a hand through his hair.
Bruce knew talking about this could be risky, but he can also chalk it up to his new shared hobby. Clark would think he knows so much because he’s a true crime listener and reader. Not because he’s a vigilante.
“What’s the drug?” Bruce asked first.
“It’s called drops or something like that.”
“I’ve heard of it. You don’t have even an idea of who might be behind it?” Bruce said suddenly not so awkward anymore.
Clark shifted in his seat as he really thought about it, flipped through his notepad, “Carmine Falcone? Maybe…” He said reading the name.
Bruce knew about Carmine. Mob boss. He was definitely in the scene and the Batman kept a few tabs on him but he hasn’t done anything significant ever since his daughter was arrested.
“Falcone is…he’s a lot. Not that long ago he turned in his own daughter for the hangman murders. He was the main suspect at first however. My butler told me she barely even had a fair trial before being thrown into Arkham Asylum.” Bruce said recalling reading about Sofia Falcone.
She was accused and charged for the hangman murders of important police figures. The sad part was that Sofia was actually a good person aside from her shared DNA with her father. She would often speak at conventions and group therapy meetings about the empowerment and protection of women and their wellbeing. After her mother committed suicide at a young age, Sofia was an advocate for mental health awareness. So when Alfred was reading the case back to Bruce and they saw how because of her mothers alleged mental instability that made Sofia unwell too, they were both shocked.
“Thrown into an asylum by her own father? Geez that sounds terrible. Was she actually the murderer?” Clark asked. By the look of hurt on his face he clearly hadn’t known about this.
“I don’t know. But Falcone was let loose after that. He’s definitely a criminal, but I don’t think he’s the one moving these drugs though. You should look into the Maronis. Sal Maroni to be specific.” Bruce said.
This was his main suspect. When he met with Harvey Dent the other week to finalize some Wayne Enterprises paperwork, Harv was telling him about how he was close to busting Sal’s whole drug ring down.
“Sal Maroni. Is he also in the same mob?” Clark asked as he wrote the name down.
“No. The Falcones and Maronis don’t really get along all that well.” Bruce said.
“Gee wiz. This is really helpful Bruce thank you.” Clark said as he looked up.
Bruce cracked as he let out a small puff of air. A faint smile lingered on his lips but Bruce was a master at keeping his poker face on.
“Gee wiz? You can’t be serious.” Bruce said a hint of tease in his voice.
Clark blushed as he smiled sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck as he looked away. “I don’t curse…” He admitted.
“Yea, I can tell.” Bruce said shaking his head trying his hardest to fight back a smile.
A smile. Even just the thought sounded so otherworldly to Bruce. It had been so long since he’s felt this normal without using some sort of mask. Clark laughed softly as he returned his gaze. They made eye contact and it was as electric as the first time for Bruce. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to such soft eyes.
“I would be careful though Clark. Do not name drop them in your article. Both Falcone and Sal aren’t below killing journalists…” Bruce warned very seriously for a moment.
Clark looked like he wanted to argue against it but something about the way Bruce looked so worried and the way he said his name. Well Clark was only just a man.
“I won’t, you have my word.” Clark said.
“Why do you care so much about this drug anyways? I mean no offense but you work for the Daily Planet. You guys report on global politics and climate and gossips and Superman.” Bruce said the last part with a little bit of sarcasm.
“What? Not a fan of Superman?” Clark asked lightly. Bruce just shrugged.
He wasn’t opposed to the alien but that’s what he was. An alien, and from what he would see on the news while he was away from Gotham, Superman was complicated. Sure he saved Metropolis alongside the world. But his birth parents hoped he would rule Earth one day. It was something that had Batman’s attention not Bruce’s.
“But to answer your question,” Clark said instead, “I’m just hoping to bring awareness to the issue. If even just one person is saved because they now know about the drug then I’ve done my job. If I happen to contribute to the criminals getting busted then that’s just a plus.” Clark said sincerely.
Bruce digested the response. This guy was just so perfect. Doesn’t curse, doesn’t litter, he doesn’t smoke, hell if he hadn’t spilled his drink last night Bruce would assume he didn’t drink either. Every single action and word that Clark said or did was too good to be true. There had to be more. It had to be more than just about writing a paper about drugs. Maybe Clark was onto something bigger and he’s not telling Bruce because why would he?
And if Clark was this adamant about investigating, he could get himself killed. Make himself a target to the mob. Bruce had to make sure he was safe. Batman had to.
“The criminals are what matter, they should be punished.” Bruce said, but Clark scrunched his mouth in disagreement.
“Mm, sure but, it’s not just about revenge against criminals. It’s also about justice, they should be prosecuted not punished.” Clark counteracted with. Bruce didn’t see it that way. He saw it as criminals needed to be taught to be afraid to do crime. To fear being caught enough to just not do it again.
He didn’t care to save people all that much. He just wanted to find criminals and make them regret ever becoming one. He didn’t want anyone to ever steal someone else’s life the way that robber did that night to his parents. That’s the way Bruce saw it.
He needed to be the people’s fighter, not savior.
It was narcissistic of him. Only caring for people he saw himself in, but was there really anything more important than vengeance and justice?
“I suppose.” Was all Bruce said as he dropped the subject.
They fell into a comfortable silence again, the waitress from earlier walked by and asked if they wanted anything else but they both said no.
After she took Clark’s empty coffee mug and walked away, he leaned forward on the table and caught Bruce’s attention.
“I hope you know I never stopped thinking about you.” Clark said so suddenly. It was out of nowhere, a sharp change of mood. Bruce’s eyes widened and his breath hitched making Clark’s smile falter and turn into embarrassment.
“Not that! Not that I thought about you like all the time, I just meant like since we met as kids you know? I would see you on the news and stuff. I just I would think—or geez, I mean I would just, I just didn’t forget you is all.” Clark sighed in defeat after stuttering.
Bruce’s lips twitched upwards once again. Clark hadn’t changed the way he talked a single bit.
“The science fair.” Bruce said.
Clark perked back up at that, nodding.
“Yeah the fair.”
“I wanted to call you, you know? After.” Bruce admitted. Clark listened intently.
“But, by the time my 10th birthday came around my parents had gotten new phone numbers and they had lost your contact information. And then well. I didn’t try again.” Bruce said. His birthday was in April. His parents were to later die in the winter.
“I waited.” Clark said as he smiled looking out into the window, through the city.
“You were the first friend I had ever made. And it sucked that I couldn’t see you again.” Clark said quietly as if he was talking to himself.
Bruce felt his heart burn inside of him, he felt his stomach do things he didn’t think he would ever feel. It began to freak him out again. This was all becoming too much. He got what he came here for. He figured out why Clark was in Gotham, he even helped them man out.
He understands that Clark is just a good hearted person. Some naive guy chasing the next big news story but if he’s able to help along the way then he will. Bruce didn’t need to keep things going with Clark anymore. He could let it go.
So then why couldn’t he look away.
“Hey are you okay?” Clark suddenly turned to ask. How could he tell he was beginning to panic? Was Bruce really showing it that much?
Clark had noticed the way Bruce’s heart rate spiked up, beating faster than the normal pace. He could practically hear the leg shaking underneath the table in an anxious manner.
“Yes. I just, I’m cold.” Bruce lied. He was literally wearing a trench coat.
Clark could tell he was lying by the way his heart skipped exactly two beats when he spoke. But he wouldn’t pry.
“Do you want my jacket? I think it’s going to start snowing soon.” Clark offered trying to change the subject.
Bruce shook his head no. His heart was still racing. Clark wasn’t sure what to do.
“I like the snow. Hot chocolate just tastes better when it’s snowing out. Do you like it?” Clark asked noticing the way Bruce’s eyes were almost pleading for something.
Bruce closed and opened his hand beneath the table three times as he tried containing his feelings inside.
“I prefer the summer.” Bruce said softly moving his leg around and accidentally brushing against Clark’s. Their knees touched, neither of them did anything to move, the pressure was so faint. Their bodies probably weren’t even touching it was simply jeans against fabric but it burned Bruce.
“Ah, I see. Yeah I love the summer too. Back in Kansas, I would go to the lake with my Ma and Pa. It’s got the most beautiful sunsets.” Clark recalls with such a real smile that it hurts Bruce.
Clark’s dimples coming and going as he talks are slowly making a home in his head and he can’t help but start to feel addicted. This was not what Bruce came here for. These feelings were not what Bruce intended to feel, he was hoping for just a normal conversation. A normal interaction. Instead he can feel himself starting to enjoy himself, and he can’t afford to have that in his life right now. Not when he’s just started out as the Batman. Clark would be too much of a distraction. Too much of a friend. He’d be at risk of knowing his secret and he can’t know, not now. Not ever.
He should leave. This isn’t part of the plan.
“Clark.” Bruce suddenly interrupts the man. Clark stops talking about a random memory and looks at him.
Bruce stares at him, and all he can see is that twelve year old boy he first met. The boy he was too shy to talk to until his father reassured him that it was okay. But now? There was nobody here to remind him that it was okay.
“I have to go.” Bruce said already starting to stand up.
“What? Wait Bruce!” Clark said standing up after him.
Bruce was pushing the door open already. As Clark chased after him, he was so close to reaching out for him but instead a waitress walked in front him. They bumped into each other causing for her coffee pot which she held to fall forward but before it could hit the ground and shatter. Clark caught it.
“Shoot! I’m sorry miss.” He said quickly as he handed her the pot again making sure she was okay.
By the time he looks back up, Bruce was gone. He couldn’t see him anywhere through the windows. Clark sighed in frustration. He went back to his table, grabbed his things and left some cash on the table as he walked out.
He looked both ways on the sidewalk, searching for that black coat but nothing. Bruce had just disappeared. Again.
Belatedly Clark realized that Bruce didn’t even buy the pie he had said he originally came for. He felt terrible. Clark must’ve said something wrong to make Bruce freak out and abruptly leave. He needed to apologize.
He was going to.