Chapter Text
Clark is nervous.
All his dress shirts are splayed out on the bed and he wishes desperately that Clark Kent’s lack of fashion sense was just part of his disguise.
Normally, he wouldn’t care. But this is the night. Tonight is the night. Nothing can go wrong tonight.
He changes shirts in front of his mirror over and over, blurring in and out of super speed, and resists the urge to call Lois.
Clark looks at the clock, then back at himself in the mirror.
He calls Lois.
She's laughing at him before he even says a word.
“I thought you swore you weren’t going to call me.”
Clark sputters. “I won’t- I’m not-” he sighs deeply and looks forlornly at his reflection. “I need help.”
“Called it!” Lois crows. “So the first thing you want to do is wax everywhere . And I do mean everywhere, a man loves-”
“What?” Clark shrieks. “ Waxing ?! Lois, I wanted advice on my clothes !”
“No plaid. Wear something you won’t mind getting ripped off and thrown on the floor.”
“Lois.” Clark hisses.
“What? It’s true.” Clark squeezes the phone tighter until he reminds himself not to break it.
“Lois,” he says. “This isn’t funny. Tonight has to be perfect. ”
“I’m just trying to lighten the mood, Smallville. I know you’re nervous.” Lois’ voice softens.
Clark strips off his shirt and picks another one off the bed. “I know,” he says. “It’s just, tonight is a huge step. And he-” Clark stares at himself in the mirror, half dressed and totally terrified.
“He means so much to me.”
“He seems to care a lot about you too.” Lois says. “I thought you were being a naive hick getting involved with the Prince of Gotham, but the man has kept your relationship quiet, not had any side pieces, and most shockingly of all, has had the patience to not impugn on your virginal modesty.”
“Lois.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Not a virgin. Semi-virgin. Half-virgin.”
“I had a boyfriend in highschool.”
“Prude then.”
“Sex is a private thing for me.” Clark says. “I have to trust someone completely before I take that step.” He rubs gently at his supersuit, peeking out from under his button up. “It’s not something I do on a whim.”
“And do you trust him? Wayne?”
Clark settles on the blue shirt. He buttons it on over the S shield and meets his own eyes in the mirror, and thinks of Bruce.
“Yes,” he says. “Yes, I do.”
oOo
Bruce has faced torture, brutal injury and weaponry the likes of which the world has never seen.
He still winces as Alfred rips the wax strips off.
“That takes care of all the general areas.” Alfred says, rubbing aloe vera onto his chest. “I would offer to do the more delicate work myself, but it seems your sensibilities are too prudish to allow such a thing.”
Bruce grimaces. “I can handle the rest myself.”
“As you wish, sir.” Alfred says, and he mutters. “Modesty from a man whose nappies I’ve changed and whose insides I have seen on his outsides.”
“I’ll handle it, Alfred.” Bruce says, turning to inspect his perfectly smooth jaw in the mirror. Bruce is an attractive man. He knows how to dress for a date, he knows how to allure, how to seduce, how to please a partner in bed.
But tonight isn’t just any date.
Tonight is special.
After some excruciating, humiliating and private contortionist feats, Bruce is ready.
Alfred greets him with a glistening bespoke suit on a hanger.
Bruce shakes his head at it. “Not that.”
Alfred raises an eyebrow. “Pardon me. I must be going senile in my old age. This is your usual ‘going public’ relationship suit.”
“This isn’t like that.” Bruce says. “This is Clark.”
Alfred’s eyebrow raises until it nearly reaches his receding hairline.
“I see,” he says. “This Mr. Kent is different from your usual affairs. Who would have thought a puritan resistance to your charms would be all it took to ensnare the interests of the Prince of Gotham?”
“Clark is different. ” Bruce growls, as he pulls on a soft cashmere turtleneck. “This is different. Because he may just be the best man I have ever known. And that comes from someone who works with an all powerful alien who decided the best thing to do after coming upon a vulnerable planet was to develop a hero complex.”
“He’s honest, Alfred. He’s kind. He has a clear mind. He’s trustworthy. He’s brave. Clark is all the best this world has to offer, and he is willing to spend time with me.”
Bruce meets his own eyes in the mirror with something like awe. “He’s Clark .”
Alfred looks at him softly. “I see, Master Bruce.” The butler says, finally. “Pray, tell me. When will I receive the happy announcement? Will Mr. Kent be taking your name? I must insist on you keeping the Wayne name, if only for legal purposes.”
“Alfred-” Bruce has trained himself out of blushing years ago, but he can feel the heat rising to his face.
“Hyphenation is quite in vogue nowadays, I hear.”
“First I have to convince him that I am willing to go public as a serious relationship.”
“May I suggest getting him into bed first, Master Wayne?” Alfred suggested. “Men are so much more amenable afterwards.”
“I am never going to think about why you would ever need to know that.”
“Please.” Alfred sniffs and hands him his jacket. “I was in Her Majesty’s service. I know many things.”
oOo
Clark fiddles his shirt, checking and rechecking his watch. He shifts his feet nervously. The other riders on the ferry give him odd looks.
“If you pull out a bomb, I’m gonna hit you.” says an old woman with a thick Gothamite accent.
“Oh, dear god no.” Clark says. “No bomb. I just have a date. A really important date. With my boyfriend. Tonight.”
“Gotham boy?” she asks. Clark nods.
She grunts. “Good. He’ll fuck you good. Get rid of all that annoying twitchy energy you have.”
Clark goes so red he can smell his glasses melting. He doesn’t know what the hell to say to that. The ferry pulls into Gotham harbor and he makes his way through the crowd.
As embarrassing as it is to think it, the woman was right. He is twitchy. He straightens his spine then remembers Clark Kent is supposed to slouch. Shaking his head, he straightens again. By the end of tonight, Bruce will know everything. Bruce will have everything he is. His heart, his body, his secrets. They’re Bruce’s, starting tonight.
Lois texts his phone and reassures him that she’ll keep Perry off his tracks for tonight, in return for an exclusive. Clark smiles and thanks her profusely. He’s ridiculously early and as nervous as a hen with a fox in the henhouse. He doesn’t know if his nerves can handle it if work decides to interrupt him on this date.
Clark has never had the best luck.
At the beeping noise he swears and grabs his phone, desperately thinking up excuses for Perry that won’t get him assigned to the sports section for a week.
His phone is not what’s beeping though.
It's his Justice League communicator.
Tonight of all nights.
Clark swears and searches for a place to change.
“Fuck Batman. I’ve got a date .”
oOo
Bruce types up a message, brusque, vague, and non debatable. The communicator beeps steadily and he pulls on the Batsuit swiftly, grabbing a belt of basic essentials.
“Shall I inform Mr. Kent you will be late, sir?”
“No need, Alfred.” Bruce says. “I have the situation well in hand.”
Alfred raises an eyebrow. “While the alert of Riddler’s ship coming into harbor has sounded, there is no reason to believe this situation will come to a head quickly. By all rights, Riddler may not even be there. This is a reconnaissance mission, an essential one too. It is likely to take you all night.”
“That is why I have called for backup.” Bruce taps the communicator.
“To what are you referring, sir?”
“Superman is a soft touch. He’ll come when called, and he’ll finish any job he starts. I’ll call him in for this stake out, then claim some urgent business. He’ll gladly do my reconnaissance for me and not ask questions about why. I’ll be back in time to shower off the suit smell and stop at a florist on the way to Clark.”
“And what if Superman has his own plans for tonight, Master Bruce?”
Batman laughs quietly. “Then they’ll have to wait for some other time. I’ve got a date.”