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It starts with a gala.
Let's be honest, it nearly always starts with a gala. In almost every universe where these three end up happy and together? It starts with a gala.
—
Lois leaned into her husband's broad side with an appraising smirk. She was content to spend the first half-hour of the Metropolis Arts Charity Dinner and Auction lurking in the shadows and scoping out her personal battlefield.
"What do you want to bet Bruce asks me out again tonight?"
Clark snorted, the sound rumbling against her shoulder. "I don't need to bet anything, you know he will. If he didn't I would wonder if he had something wrong with him. Or maybe he got bodysnatched."
"Bodysnatching seems the more likely of the two," Lois agreed, eyes scanning the crowd and frowning slightly when she didn't see the target of their conversation. "He did RSVP to this, didn't he? It would be a shame to get all dressed up for nothing."
"You know, I'm right here and I don't think I'm 'nothing'," griped Clark, but when Lois tilted her head back to look at him, he was grinning. "But I'd also think you looked good in overalls and a flannel."
Lois shook her head. "You can take the farmboy out of Kansas…" She leaned harder against Clark's side. "I'm glad you aren't actually the jealous type. Bruce has been flirting with me since before we even met, it would be awkward if I had to put a stop to it now."
Still looking up at Clark's face, she was treated to the sight of a faint flush creeping its way across his cheeks. "The two of you…" Clark paused and cleared his throat. "You look good together. I wouldn't…I don't… You shouldn't stop." The flush swept up over his ears and he glanced away, chewing his lip.
Lois blinked at him, then pushed away so she could look at him head-on rather than upside down. She had suspected for a while, but now she was nearly certain that she wasn't the only person Clark was looking at when she did interviews with Bruce Wayne.
"Clark, honey, look at me," she said, reaching up to press a palm to his cheek. "I always say no to Bruce and he knows I always say no. But if you want me to call his bluff and say yes, I will. Goodness knows that man could use a surprise or two in his life that isn't another kidnapping attempt."
Clark pressed his cheek against her palm, skin smooth and warm under her fingers. When he spoke, it was quiet and his face warmed further under her touch. "Not gonna lie, Lois. I'd really… It would be nice to see the two of you together at least once. Even if I couldn't physically be part of it."
The thing was, Lois had known Clark was bi since before they even started dating, much less gotten married and had a family together. She'd never really brought it up seriously…but now here they were, huddled in the corner of a gala, her blushing husband mumbling about how much he wanted her to go on a date with Gotham's most eligible bachelor. Lois couldn't deny she wanted to see the same thing: her spouse on a date with Bruce Wayne.
She patted his cheek gently, reassuringly. "We're a package deal, Clark. He can have both of us, or not at all."
Bruce stepped into the gala fashionably late, as always.
He slid the bartender a hundred to make his drink a mocktail but not tell anyone, as always.
He looked around the room to find Clark Kent and Lois Lane gossiping in the corner, as always.
He felt his heart stutter at the sight of such beautiful people together, and knew that his flirtations would be rejected, as always.
Regardless, he swanned over to a nearby table and waited for Lois to come quiz him on his latest philanthropic misadventures or oddly benevolent business practices. She usually would, leaving Clark hovering alone at the back of the room, waiting for an opportunity to swoop into another rich schmuck's conversation and grill them on their questionable ecological impact reports or weird luxury retail acquisitions. They made a wonderful team, and Bruce loved to watch them work.
Right on schedule, Lois pulled away from Clark's side and strode over to Bruce's table. Her smile looked sharp, with a hint of mischievousness, and Bruce's heart did a little flip behind his ribs.
"You're late," she said, already pulling out her recorder and setting it on the table between them. "Tell me, Mr. Wayne, what held up Gotham's Richest this time?"
Bruce already had a tale ready to spin, a simple story about a flat tire and Condiment King causing a detour. It wasn't even that untruthful. He had been delayed by Condiment King, he hadn't wanted to show up to the gala smelling like mayonnaise and Kevlar, after all.
Lois smiled and nodded along, asking pointed questions until he found himself talking about the finer points of Wayne Enterprises' charity division for the third time in a month.
"…of course, I am trying to get my children involved in this part of the company. It is important to foster a good relationship with the community, and also I can't do everything myself!" Bruce found that he didn't have to force his fond little laugh, and took a sip of his mocktail to keep himself from saying anything too telling.
"It seems like letting the children have some part in your company has freed up your time considerably," Lois said, leaning her elbows on the table and steepling her fingers under her chin. "What do you intend to do with this newfound freedom?"
Any snatches of free time were taken up by bat-related activities, but Bruce couldn't tell a reporter that, no matter how much he might like her. Time to bring out the old fallback: flirtation.
"Well, I find myself distractingly single these days, maybe I'll start dating again. You wouldn't happen to be in the market for a billionaire father of… I forget, is it six or nine? I seem to have picked up some strays over the years." He winked exaggeratedly and internally steeled himself for the expected ritual of rejection.
Except it didn't come. Lois hummed thoughtfully as she reached across the table and flicked off her recorder. "I don't know, Bruce. Are you in the market for two overworked investigative reporters that sometimes disappear for weeks on end? Could you handle the Kent-Lane package deal? Since you can't seem to remember how many children you have…perhaps you might forget your partners as well…"
Bruce, who normally had iron-clad control over his face, felt his mouth drop open.
Lois grinned at him, sharp and bright. "I'm calling your bluff, Mr. Wayne. Both of us or no deal."
"I—" croaked Bruce, then closed his mouth with a snap and swallowed hard. "Yes, of course, you would both—"
"Lois, what have you done to the poor man?" Clark's voice behind him didn't entirely startle Bruce, he'd seen the man approaching in the reflection of his mocktail glass, but he let himself jump just a little. Brucie would not have been so aware of his surroundings two glasses in, after all.
"Nothing, yet," said Lois, laughter creeping into her tone. She held out a hand and Clark easily slipped into her space, letting her thread her fingers through the crook of his elbow. They really did look so good together. Lois's eyes twinkled. "He seems to have forgotten how to finish his sentences, though!"
How is it that Bruce could go out into the night as Batman and effortlessly combat villains and the evils of Gotham's darkest streets, but two beautiful reporters left him a flustered mess? It was a herculean effort, but Bruce eventually managed to pull himself together.
"I think I might need to research discreet dinner reservations for three," he said, and if he was a little breathless that was his own business. "I'll call you tomorrow with details. Excuse me."
He was not fleeing the steady, amused gazes of two of the sharpest investigative minds on the east coast as he strode from the room, but it was a near thing.
"What if he chickens out? I can't afford this place."
Clark fidgeted nervously, tugging at the neckline of his shirt and loosening his tie. Beside him in the elevator, Lois sighed good-naturedly and turned to straighten him out.
Again.
"He's not going to 'chicken out', dear. He picked this place because they're famously discrete and infamously exclusive. He's trying to impress us. "
Clark looked down at her in wide-eyed panic. "What if I chicken out?"
Lois gazed steadily back up at him, face fondly serious. "If that's what you want to do, we can turn this elevator right back around. No fancy rich people food is worth doing something you don't want to do."
Clark reached up to mess with his newly-straightened tie and Lois grabbed his hand with an amused twitch of the lips. He smiled shakily back at her. "I want to do this. I was fine when he was the one being tongue-tied but I've made a fatal error. I let myself think."
Lois couldn't help it, she snorted loudly and pushed herself up onto her tiptoes to press a kiss to Clark's lips.
"Well, stop that. We're here to fluster a very rich man and get a meal out of the deal. If all goes well maybe we'll lure him home for dessert."
She waggled her eyebrows and Clark wheezed out a strangled, "Lois, no. First date."
But now he was laughing, body loosening from its tight, nervous coil. Just in time too, because the elevator doors slid open to reveal the warm, dark interior of the restaurant beyond.
Skyline Dome was exactly what the name implied. The quiet (and extremely expensive) restaurant sat perched atop one of the tallest buildings in Metropolis, encased in glass and offering a stunning view of the city below. On a clear night, Gotham glittered far across the bay, though it was often mostly obscured by thick smog.
Clark did not enjoy thinking about that. People had to breathe that air.
The restaurant appeared empty of all but a few staff when Lois and Clark exited the elevator into the open space. They were quickly bustled to the back corner, where they found Bruce twisting a napkin nervously in a booth only truly visible from the kitchen. Even then, there was a beaded curtain for obscuring the occupants.
Bruce's face brightened as Lois and Clark slid into the booth opposite him. "Oh, good! You made it."
"Did you think we were going to ditch you?" said Lois with a little snort, as if she hadn't suggested that exact thing to Clark mere moments ago in the elevator.
"We aren't late are we?" added Clark, concerned since normally Bruce was fashionably late to every function. For him to beat them there…
Bruce's bright expression shifted into a sheepish grin. "Well…in all honesty I was too anxious to try for fashionable lateness. I also wanted to make sure everything was in proper order for our date.
"You wanted to make sure the restaurant was honoring your request to buy out the entire place for the evening." Lois leaned forward, smirking. "That's what you did, isn't it? This place is normally bustling."
"I didn't think either of you is fond of the limelight. Most journalists I have met prefer to tell the story and not be the story. I hope I have not miscalculated?"
"No!" Clark felt his face flushing and contained his hurried outburst. "No, not at all. I think we're just surprised that you would do all this. Give up the limelight—"
Bruce snorted, loudly. "I get enough limelight simply existing. I didn't want to expose the two of you to that less than a day into…well, whatever we decide to do, I did not want our first date to be spoiled by paparazzi popping out of a potted ficus tree or rappelling down the side of the dome."
Lois shrugged. "You've got a point. I might do something like that to get a scoop. If I had to. Clark, too."
"I would not!" squawked Clark. He wouldn't have to rappel, but it was too soon to be telling Bruce Wayne anything about his other life. "There's plenty of other ways to get a story!"
"Oh?" Bruce's low voice was warm and curious, sending a shiver down Clark's spine. "Enlighten me, then. I'm curious about how you managed to put together that expose on the strange synthetics smuggling ring operating out of the Metropolis docks."
The shiver down Clark's spine raced back upward, warming to flush his cheeks and make him stammer out a reply. Really, that had been one of his easier articles. He'd simply needed to be in the right place at the right time and the story came to him. He hadn't even needed to break out the x-ray vision or enhanced hearing. Just good old fashioned investigative journalism.
The date continued like this: Bruce asking after particular stories Lois and Clark had worked on, Lois and Clark answering as best they could, and then asking after some of Bruce's various vacationing mishaps.
Honestly, the man was a bit accident prone. Clark wanted to wrap him in some bubble wrap and maybe a helmet for good measure.
All too soon, they were finishing the dregs of a truly massive slice of chocolate cake, spoons scraping and amicably jostling against one another. Clark found himself scraping at nothing, prolonging the date by microseconds just to have a little more time…
"This was fun," Bruce leaned his head in his hand, his elbow resting on the table. The smile playing across his face was fond, and somewhat shy. Endearing, maybe? "I wouldn't mind going out again. There are a lot of discrete places like this for people like me, and not all of them are restaurants. I'd like to show the two of you more of what I have to offer."
Lois glanced at Clark, who shrugged the barest amount. He had no problem with continuing, especially if every date was as decadent as this one had been. His wife smiled, shark-like, at their new partner.
"Alright, Billionaire Boy. Show us what you've got."
Bruce's startled laugh was charming and beautiful.
Clark thought he might never get enough.
Their first date in the books was a roaring success. Bruce found he couldn't stop thinking about his new paramours.
He could barely keep a smile off his face every time he remembered the way Lois's eyes had sparkled in the candlelight and the deep timbre of Clark's gentle laughter. He found himself daydreaming about sending them flowers at work, maybe other more expensive gifts, maybe showing up to take them to lunch…
No, that would be too much too soon. They probably did not want that sort of attention, and—if Bruce were honest—neither did he. So he settled for another discrete reservation, somewhere slightly less elegant but still exclusive and private.
One reservation turned into two, turned into a weekly standing date that was only canceled for emergencies. Thankfully, dating investigative journalists meant that if Batman was called away…his partners were likely busy as well.
Bruce was incredibly grateful he could let his partners handle a majority of their cancelled dates. That meant that he only had to address Gotham-based emergencies. Fortunately, anything inside Gotham was easily brushed off as "I can never be too careful! No one wants to get caught outside when Scarecrow is at large!"
To his knowledge, they never even suspected.
Before any of them really registered the passage of time, a year had passed. It had been a year full of private meetings snatched whenever they could, not exactly hiding…but definitely trying to stay out of the spotlight.
Bruce found he was actually quite tired of it. He was tired of feeling like he was sneaking around, tired of treating his partners like aquaintances whenever they met at galas, tired of watching what he says around family and friends.
He was tired of hiding the largest part of his life from his partners. He’d never really wanted to share the Bat with any of his various paramours before (unless they already knew), but he desperately wanted to show Lois and Clark. He dreamed of leading them down to the Batcave and showing them around the largest and most vulnerable part of himself. He longed for it with an intensity that scared him.
First, though, he needed to ask his kids. Revealing himself would also expose their respective secrets and he couldn’t do that to them without their permission.
Then he could invite them all to dinner.
Bruce knew that he wanted to introduce Lois and Clark to his family all at once. He couldn’t expect the various children to all be at the house for a family dinner more than once a month, they had lives of their own that pulled them many different directions.
So instead, he met them where they were at.
Damian and Duke were the easiest to inform, since they both still lived full time at the manor. He simply brought up the subject during pre-patrol dinner, trying to remain casual as he passed Duke a basket of still-warm rolls.
“I am bringing my partners to the next family dinner.” There, that was casual enough.
Duke raised an eyebrow. “Business partners or…” He grinned as Bruce felt his face flush. “Good for you, Bruce.”
“I do not care who you bring to family dinner if they are important to you,” said Damian. “I am glad you have found someone, but I do not understand why you are telling us beforehand.”
Bruce took a deep breath. “I’m planning on telling them the truth.”
The room went dead silent, the clink of cutlery and the soft hiss of breath vanishing in an instant.
“You cannot be serious,” said Damian, appalled. “You caution us to never reveal who we are and yet you want to let two strangers into the secret?”
“They aren’t strangers. I have been seeing them for nearly a year and have known both of them for much longer.” Bruce knew he needed to keep his cool, it would do no good to react poorly to any suspicion of his partners. Especially to his son. He wanted Damian to actually like Lois and Clark.
“I don’t really have an issue with it,” Duke said with a shrug. “It doesn’t exactly affect me, so I’m not sure why Dames is—”
“It does affect us. They could very easily guess our identities simply by knowing Father’s identity.”
“Okay? If Bruce trusts them with the Bat, I’m sure they can be trusted for everyone else.”
“Father could be under a magical compulsion! We should consult an expert on the subject just to be sure—”
Bruce waited the boys out patiently, watching their bickering with a warm fondness. After several tense moments, Damian pushed away from the table with a disgusted huff. “I suppose I should trust Father’s judgment in this matter. If they are smart enough to extrapolate our identities then I suppose we can handle that when it happens and not before. I, however, will not be volunteering that information.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to,” said Bruce, small smile twitching at his lips. “They’re very smart, I’m sure they will come to an accurate conclusion, but they’re also discreet. No one has caught us on a date in public yet.”
"That is a point in their favor." Damian nodded. "I still reserve judgment until we have met."
Bruce nodded back and watched Damian leave. That was as close to permission as he might get from his son. Duke had returned to his dinner, only pausing to give Bruce a thumbs up when he glanced his way.
Something in his spine loosened just a fraction. Two down. Hopefully the rest were as easily handled.
Bruce had honestly been a little concerned about reaching out to Dick and Jason, but fortunately he found the perfect opportunity a few days before he was supposed to host dinner.
Dick and Jason liked to meet on top of Batburger for late night patrol dinner whenever they were both in town and nothing was too hectic. Tonight, quiet with weather only slightly drizzling, was no exception.
"Hey! Dickwing! Catch!"
Bruce watched as Dick snagged a flying burger out of midair, not even bothering to glance in his brother's direction.
"Gotta try harder than that if you want me to take a swan-dive off the roof!" Dick peeled back the wrapper and took an enthusiastic bite of burger. "God that's good. Wish Blud would let Batburger move in."
Jason snorted and flung himself down onto the roof next to Dick, his own burger already half-eaten. "No you don't. Everywhere Batburger's tried to move in that isn't Gotham has failed. Doesn't taste right. Something about our water supply and 'ambient microbial petri dish'."
"There's a franchise location in the food court of Metropolis's WayneTech campus," said Bruce, dropping from the steel girders he'd been perched on over his son's heads.
To their credit they did not flinch, though Bruce could tell they hadn't known he was there.
To his chagrin, they did start overreacting. Dick toppled over, clutching his heart with one hand and holding his burger aloft with the other. Jason gasped dramatically and pressed his hand to his forehead like he might faint.
Bruce felt his lips twitch with fond amusement.
"You spying on us, old man? Gonna take away our hard-earned burgers?" Jason narrowed his eyes at Bruce. "I need these calories for The Mission™️."
It was very hard not to roll his eyes, but Bruce managed to confine his reaction to another twitch of the lips.
"Agent A said you had not confirmed your presence for family dinner this week. I am here to insist." Bruce thought about how that could come across as demanding and winced. "Please."
Dick flipped upright, face gone serious. "Okay either this is a big deal or you've been bodysnatched. You never say please."
"It is…important." Suddenly unsure, Bruce considered the merits of simply blending back into the shadows and forgetting this whole introductory endeavor. His kids could learn from the papers eventually like everyone else… No. He couldn't do that to them. "I— I have someone—or, two people actually—that I would very much like everyone to meet. We've been—it's been a year and I think it's time."
Jason blinked owlishly at him, then stuck his pinky in his ear and wiggled it around. "Okay, try that again. I think I just hallucinated that you've managed to keep a relationship, two relationships even, for a whole year."
"I do not think it is that difficult to believe—" started Bruce, but Dick cut him off, eyes narrowing in consideration.
"You want to tell them the truth."
Bruce nodded. Jason's gaze snapped away from Bruce to his brother and then back again, mouth falling open in unfeigned shock.
"Fuck. You trust them that much?"
"They haven't sold our relationship to the highest bidder," said Bruce, looking away into the twinkling lights of Gotham towards the bay and gleaming Metropolis beyond. "They're both in a position where they could do so quite easily. That they haven't tells me they can be trusted. I am willing to take that risk."
Jason snorted. "Yeah alright. I gotta see who the fuck has got Batman himself all mushy. You can count on me for dinnerrrr—and he's gone."
Dick shook his head and went back to polishing off his burger. "Hope those poor saps know what they're getting into."
Cass turned out to be the easiest.
He found her in the manor kitchen, visiting with Alfred while being simultaneously plied with leftovers. (Bruce knew they were not, in fact, leftovers. Alfred very carefully prepared food to send home with the various household children. Some of them responded better if they thought they were doing Alfred a favor.)
She glanced at him, eyes crinkling with fond amusement.
"I look forward to meeting them," she said, preempting his question. "And I hope they respond well to your secrets."
Bruce huffed out a laugh and continued past to his true goal, the coffee maker. "I hope they do, too."
Tim was the last, and weirdest, interaction.
Bruce had finished showering after patrol and was headed upstairs to crash into bed. He genuinely thought he was the only one awake…and then the Batcomputer lit up like a Christmas tree. He was only saved from a truly embarrassing jump-and-shriek combo by his years of carefully honed reflexes.
"So, B," said Tim, casually, spinning around ominously in the Batcomputer chair. "Who is it?"
"What?" Bruce managed to croak out, willing his heart rate down. "Who is what?"
Tim leaned forward, steepling his fingers. "You don't go around grinning like that over just anybody. Who is it?"
Ah, this was about Lois and Clark. Bruce started for the stairs. "You'll find out at dinner like everyone else."
Tim made a contemplative humming sound. "Well, clearly they're not from Gotham. You're spending too much time driving across the bay to Metropolis. And you trust them, since you're introducing them to all of us at an intimate family dinner that includes Jason. Who—I shouldn't need to remind you but I will—is still legally dead."
"That's his own choice," said Bruce, giving up on getting out of the conversation and turning back around. "As soon as he wants to come back, all he has to do is say the word."
"He won't and you know it. He enjoys not paying taxes too much." Tim waved his hand dismissively. "This isn't about him. You trust them, they're from Metropolis…you've spent a lot more time reading the Daily Planet lately… Fuck."
Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"
"Yes. No… Maybe. It's not Clark Kent is it?"
Bruce felt his other eyebrow raise, but it was late at night and his filters were eroding quickly. "No, not entirely."
"Oh. Oh my god. Both of them. You're dating…oh shit. I gotta—" Tim started patting his pockets frantically. "Has there been anything weird with…no don't tell me. If you knew I'd definitely know." He yanked his phone out of his hoodie pocket and started rapidly typing.
"Who are you texting?" asked Bruce, trying not to sound suspiciously ominous.
Tim shook his head. "It's completely unrelated. I just gotta call my boyfriend. Right now. It's vital."
Right. Tim's mysterious boyfriend who Bruce had never even seen. To be honest, right now Bruce was too tired to care beyond a gentle warning. "Please don't spread that around. No one else knows."
Tim rolled his eyes, already lifting the phone to his ear. "Yeah, I know. I'm not stupid, B."
The last thing Bruce heard as he headed up the stairs to bed was Tim whisper-yelling, "Oh my fucking GOD, Kon. You need to call your donor right the fuck now… No, not the bald one dumbass… You know exactly who I mean."
Bruce decided he was better off not asking questions and passing out to dream of his partners instead.
"So, you and Bruce Wayne, huh?"
Clark froze, hands suddenly white-knuckled around the steel beam he was lifting into place. His head snapped to the side so he could stare wide-eyed at Kon. Superboy was grinning at him from where he was lifting his own beam.
"How on this green earth—"
Kon leveled him with an unimpressed stare. "Dude. I'm dating a Gotham Bat, how the fuck do you think?"
Ah. Gotham loved Bruce Wayne. It made sense that the various bats that protected the city would find out things the man would rather keep secret. This had always been a secret.
"Don't tell anyone, please." Clark didn't think that Kon would, but it had to be said. There were many secrets in both of their lives, but this was both personal and precious.
Kon scoffed, "Who would I tell? My primary gossip buddy already knows."
Clark huffed out a laugh and shook his head. He finished lifting the beam into place and then swiped at his forehead with the back of his hand, more habit than need since it would take a lot more than one beam to make him break into a sweat. "I dunno, you don't think it's weird that Lois and I are… dating a third person?"
Kon finished lifting his own beam and then settled on top of it, legs swinging into open air. "You're asking the wrong person. I was grown in a lab from two dudes that hate each other, you can do whatever you want and it's not gonna faze me."
"I think I'm asking the right person," said Clark, settling in beside Kon. "Though if you prefer I can try to set aside my differences with Lex and—"
"Absolutely not. Disgusting." Kon made a huge show of fake gagging, scooting away from Clark, who laughed at him. Just a little bit. "Don't even joke about that. Jesus. It's pathetic how much he wants you but please. Stick with Gotham's goody two shoes. He's hot and it will make Lex hopping mad. Win, win."
"I suppose making Lex mad and jealous should count as a hobby at this point."
"Fucking good, you need one. Obviously, if you're bored enough to be going on dates with a multi-billionaire."
Clark couldn't help reaching out to ruffle Kon's hair. "Nothing about Bruce Wayne is boring, but thanks."
"No need to thank me, just checking in." Kon batted Clark's hand away with an amused yet annoyed huff of air. "Also like, you should probably tell him you're Superman. Before he finds out when you fly out of his window at ass-o-clock in the morning."
Kon paused, considering. "Though, he might find out the first time Jon gets too excited and starts floating."
Clark groaned, "Don't remind me. He sneezed and put a hole in the drywall yesterday."
"I think we can both relate to that," said Kon, grinning. "Seriously though, Brucie Wayne isn't known for his observational skills… but even he can tell if a kid is floating a good five feet off the floor."
Clark and Lois had been the rounds about telling Bruce Clark's biggest secret, both in the interest of honesty and also because they weren't sure how much longer they could keep Jon grounded. After many long discussions, they had finally settled on telling him after their anniversary dinner. Bruce had invited them to come over and meet the family, assuring them that Alfred's cooking was delicious and he'd love for them to see his home.
Kon didn't really need to know that though. Clark simply nodded and started descending to fetch the next beam.
"I'll think about it," he said, like it hadn't been on his mind for days. "Come on, this hospital won't repair itself."
Kon grumbled, but they got back to work soon enough.
And if Clark was distracted by thoughts of telling his boyfriend everything…well, that was his own business.
It had been many years since Lois or Clark stepped foot in Wayne Manor. Certainly they had not been inside since they started dating Bruce a year ago.
Lois pulled to a stop in the wide circle of the driveway and stared up at the gloomy facade and forebodingly dark double front doors. "I think the last time I was here was for a charity gala."
"That would have been four or five years ago now," Clark said, also staring at the enormous house. "Bruce stopped hosting things here after he lost Jason."
Lois nodded. "I remember that interview. He said he couldn't bear to host in a house full of ghosts."
Clark smiled a bit and bumped their shoulders together."Its a house full of kids now, apparently."
Lois smiled back, faintly. "Are you sure about this? We can back out now, no one has to know."
"I'm sure. We'll have a nice dinner with our partner and his family, then come clean. We've known him long enough to know we can trust him. He's kept us a secret so far, I think one more won't be a problem."
Lois snorted, "Yeah, sure. It's not like he's the Gotham Bat or anything."
Clark laughed, "God, could you imagine? The number of times I've had to skive off of dates for League meetings… Batman would have noticed the pattern for sure."
Still laughing, the pair clambered out of Lois's car and made their way up the steps to the front door. Before either could lift their hands to knock, Clark heard measured footsteps on the other side. The door swung open, revealing an impeccably dressed elderly man.
He smiled at them and beckoned them inside. "You must be Clark Kent and Lois Lane. Master Bruce has told me so much about you. If you'll follow me, I'll show you to dinner."
Lois and Clark exchanged a wide-eyed glance, but trailed after the gentleman. He led them through the tall foyer entrance with its beautiful grand staircase, then down a wide hallway past a couple beautiful parlors. Finally, he pushed through a set of double doors into a warmly lit, wood paneled dining room.
Bruce was standing by the sideboard, pouring a glass of water. He jumped a little as the doors swung open, spinning to see who was entering. The smile that split his face when he saw Lois and Clark was bright and nervous.
Clark wasn't sure what Bruce Wayne could have to be nervous about.
"The kids will be down in a few minutes, but I'm glad to see you." Bruce crossed the room in a few long strides, reaching up to first kiss Clark and then bending down to kiss Lois as well. "Alfred wouldn't tell me what he made for dinner, but I'm sure it will be delicious."
Alfred snorted, "Your palate leaves much to be desired, Master Bruce. But I try my best." He turned and nodded his head at Lois and Clark. "Excuse me, I need to attend to the kitchen."
Clark listened to his footsteps fading down the hall, then the faint creak of hinges as he entered the kitchen.
Distantly, he heard a young man's voice calling, "So, Alfie, are they worth B's attention or should I go out there and scare them off?"
A chuckle and the sound of dishes rattling echoed down the hall. "None of that, my lad. They seem just fine. A little overwhelmed—"
"Who isn't, in this fucking palace?"
"Hush. They'll be fine. Do you want to go out there with the rest, or?"
"I'll eat in here with you. If they figure it out, swell. Maybe next time I can put in an appearance."
"I'm sure your father would enjoy that. Why don't you help me get this plated and maybe we can fit in a game of cribbage before you have to go on patrol?"
The young man scoffed, but it was fond. "Sure, Alfie. I won't even mess with Timmy's plate this time."
Clark stopped listening. Clearly one of Bruce's children wasn't ready to meet them. He wondered which one it was, he didn't recall any of the various Wayne children being shy. Perhaps he was only used to their public personas, since Bruce himself acted so differently in public versus when they were alone.
Soon, however, he was even more confused.
The dining room filled with Bruce's children, and they were all there. Dick, grinning at the newcomers from the end of the table. Duke, shyly waving as he settled into his seat. Tim and Cass, glancing askance at them and whispering excitedly under their breath.
Odd, Clark couldn't make out what they were saying. He'd be concerned if it wasn't for the fondly exasperated look Bruce kept shooting in their direction.
Damian was the last to slip into the room. He paused in the doorway for a moment, then clicked his tongue in a familiar manner Clark couldn't quite place. He strode up to the pair, crossing his arms as he looked them over.
"I don't think anyone is quite good enough for Father. However, I have read a significant number of your articles and have deemed you good enough to try." His eyes narrowed as he stared up at Clark, a man easily twice his height. "If you hurt him, I will ensure your body is never found."
"Damian," choked out Bruce, clearly trying not to laugh. "There's no need for threats."
"Tt, we shall see." Damian went to sit at the other end of the table by Dick. "I will be watching you two closely."
Clark chuckled, charmed by this brazen child. "I hope we meet your expectations, then."
Lois elbowed him in the ribs, but he could tell she was stifling a giggle, too.
Dinner wound down towards its inevitable end. Aside from Damian's very seriously delivered threats, nothing more exciting happened. Everyone got along marvelously, chatting about the state of the paper and some of Lois's more intrepid research trips.
Bruce knew some of these stories from research as the Bat, but it was different hearing them from his partner's mouth. He caught himself spellbound more than once.
Despite dinner's success, Bruce found himself nervously twisting the stem of his water glass between two pinched fingers. He'd resolved weeks ago that this was it, that he had to come clean to his partners. He trusted them, but would they trust him after this?
Finally, when the last course was a distant memory and all the various children had disappeared (all of them had claimed to be "turning in for the night", but Bruce knew most of them would be heading out on patrol), Bruce finally pushed back from the dinner table with a sigh.
"I have something I would like to show the two of you, if you'll follow me?"
Lois and Clark exchanged a look across the table. "We had something we wanted to share with you too, but it can wait," said Clark with a little huff of laughter. "Lead the way."
It was surprisingly both exhilarating and nerve-wracking to lead his partners through his ancestral home. They had been here before many years ago, but never taken the path he was leading them down. He had never needed to lead any of his partners through the twilight, quiet halls towards his office and the secret that lay beyond.
He paused at the unassuming hardwood door of his office, taking a deep breath before gripping the handle tightly and swinging it open. "Just through here," he murmured, slipping inside and hoping that his partners followed.
It was strange, after so long, to invite his partners into this private space. His office had always been a sort of liminal antechamber, where the lines between billionaire and bat began to blur. To be followed now, by two people that knew him so intimately—
Well. It was frightening.
But it was also a relief to finally come clean.
"Is this your office, then? It's cozy." Clark had stepped over to one of the bookshelves and was running his finger along the spines.
Bruce took another deep breath. "It is…but this isn't—" He pushed out the rest of the breath and tried again. "I need to. This is very much a secret. Only a few people know and— It's easier if I show you."
Under the curious gaze of his partners, Bruce strode to the clock that covered the entrance to the Batcave. After this, there would be no going back. They wouldn't be able to unsee what he was about to show them.
He steeled his shoulders and slid the hands of the clock into position, secret passage swinging open silently on well-oiled hinges.
"You know, Bruce, it's never a good sign when a mysterious billionaire leads you into a secret room in the middle of his house," said Lois, leaning around him to peer down the dark tunnel. "I swear to god, if this is a sex dungeon they will never find your body."
"It's not—" started Bruce, abruptly offended. He took another deep breath, running through a calming mantra in his head. "I promise that's not what this is. Please, trust me?"
He looked back at his partners, silently begging them to understand. Lois reached out and tangled her fingers with his, giving them a little squeeze. Clark tilted his head to the side quizzically, almost as if he were listening for something, but stepped forward and rested his hand on Bruce's shoulder.
"Of course we trust you, sweetheart," he said, echoing Lois's squeeze. "This is clearly something that means a lot to you, and now you've got me curious."
"The most dangerous thing I could make an intrepid pair of investigative reporters," Bruce tried to joke, but his voice came out slightly strangled. "Well, it would be silly for me to turn back now, you've already seen the code to the clock."
If his office felt like an antechamber, the descent to the Batcave felt like entering some sacred space. It never failed to affect Bruce, even all these years later, that all his secrets were held in the vast caves beneath his home.
He found the caves breathtakingly beautiful, and hoped his partners might as well. He hoped they could get past his secrets and see the wonder of the place.
Would they still see wonder and beauty in him, when they knew?
Bruce stepped out into the main level of the Batcave, exhaling a little shakily as he steeled himself to turn around and look at his partners as they turned the final corner. He was glad all his children had gone on patrol and would not be back for several hours, because he wasn't sure he could stand any of them being witness to this nervous anticipation.
"Alright, you can come around the bend now," he called, then spun on his heel to watch the arched opening as Lois and Clark came into view.
Lois stepped through first, politely curious expression quickly falling into sharply observant as her eyes darted across the unmistakable space.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me," she said, voice strangled. "I was fucking joking…Clark, get your ass out here, you're never going to—"
She was cut off as Clark took two steps out from the archway and froze, mouth hanging open, at the sight laid out in front of them. Before Bruce could react and explain himself, Clark's shoulders started shaking and he broke into bright, familiar peals of laughter.
"We—oh god, Lois—we were worried?" cried his boyfriend between laughing gulps of air. "We thought Bruce would—oh fuck—we thought he'd be weirded out? By me?"
Bruce had a few short seconds to be confused, then Clark did something he had only ever seen one other person on Earth do. Something he had seen his best friend do a dozen times or more. Clark, still laughing, pulled his feet off the ground and rolled backwards in mirth, legs kicking as if he were rolling on the ground.
Lois shook her head fondly, then raised an eyebrow at Bruce. "Bat's out of the bag now, dear."
Bruce snapped his mouth shut (at some point in the last few seconds it had fallen open), and raised his own eyebrow back at her. "I suppose it is. I trust you can keep a secret?" He nodded towards the still-giggling, floating form of her husband.
"Of course we can," said Lois, stepping forward and reaching up to rest her hand against the sharp curve of his jaw. "I'm glad you told us, now Clark can stop pining after you twice over."
Bruce frowned at her. "Clark can—what?"
"I'm afraid I've had more-than-friendly feelings towards a certain prickly coworker for several months now," Clark said, floating over to drape his arms over Lois's shoulders, resting his chin on top of her head and smiling softly up at Bruce. "Nice to know my feelings are returned. And that he looks good in everything he wears, not just black Kevlar plate."
He winked and Bruce finally could take it no longer. He pressed one hand over Lois's, holding it to his face as he surged forward and caught Clark in a bruising kiss, his other hand threading through Clark's hair. Lois, trapped between them, let out a delighted giggle that turned into a startled gasp as Bruce ducked down to kiss her as well.
When he pulled away a few moments later, all three of them were pink-cheeked and grinning.
"Well," said Bruce. "Would you like a tour? We have the cave to ourselves for at least the next hour."
Lois looped her hand around one of his elbows and Clark draped himself over both of them, rumbling with contentment.
"We would like nothing more."
THE END