Work Text:
What was I supposed to do? Really, what was I supposed to freakin do?
I turned my phone off, slamming it on my desk with a humiliating fastness thanks to the edge I was left on.
—You good, Smallville? —Lois’ voice pierced through my accumulating and ambushing thoughts. —Hello?
—Lois! Yes, everything is incredibly fine and normal, why wouldn’t it be? —Gave her a big smile that, naturally, she didn’t buy.
—Ah yes, normal! Why would I even think differently?
—Mhm, yes. Now if you’ll excuse me Lu, I really need to go to the bathroom.
I could feel the blood rushing through my veins —my heart pumping like crazy. Could I die? My super human heart, and my super human emotions doing super-y things while affected by the yellow sun. Could it explode? It sure felt like it could, slamming against my chest like an energetic farm dog. Was this the equivalent of a human heart attack? Was I having a kryptonian heart attack? Was I going to die?!
Oh God.
Oh Lord.
I got in the first storage room I could find, trying to calm my heart rate, which only made me more anxious because it wouldn’t calm down.
“Pick the fucking call Clark.” Bruce’s voice interrupted my spiraling momentarily, making me jump a little due to the surprise. He always did that; speak in —where he assumed, and always assumed right— my direction, knowing my super hearing would always follow his words. “It was an accident and you know that. Which is on its own humiliating enough. Bruce Wayne…A mistake? For fuck’s sake.”
An accident for sure! One is never prepared for your “Hey pal, can you re send me the screenshot of the article Vicki Vale did on the Gotham Grand Hotel incident pls, appreciate it!” text, to be answered with a full video of your best friend touch —doing things….
—Some piece of a Mistake Bruce. —I took the call, even though my heart was still slamming my chest like crazy. But in all honesty —even with the embarrassment hammering my ears— it had become amusing, noticing the shame in Bruce’s voice. One of a kind moment, truly.
—Ah, for a second there I thought you didn’t know how to use a phone —He had a funky tone.
—Big talk for someone who clearly doesn't know how to text. Confusing chats, that’s something I thought only happened to Ma’ and Pa’.
—You try multitasking while sexting.
—I thought Bruce Wayne could do it all.
—Collateral damage is bound to happen eventually.
—And some collateral damage that was, right Bruce?
—Well, there's a bullet currently stuck in my left shoulder. A shit ton of anesthesia in my system, too, so I think I’m fucking allowed some collateral damage.
—Ah! No wonder you’re chatty. Usually I feel like I’m talking to a wall. A really traumatized one, too.
—Ha. Ha. —His dry laugh, but unlike always, an uncomfortable layer was added. —Just forget it man. I’ll even send you a nice dinner, yeah? For you and that little man that's always hanging with you.
—You’re asking for the impossible there, pal. I’m at a loss for words, thinking about what I just saw.
—Thinking about it huh? I’m flattered.
—Oh shut up! You know that's not what I meant.
—It’s truly heartbreaking then, Clark. Grown thirty year old man in complete shock over the concept of masturbation.
—I wouldn’t call it a “concept”. It was extremely visual.
—Ah well you see my friend, videos tend to be visual.
—Oh really? I had no idea. —He chuckled.
—Well, now you do. —he went silent for a bit. —I have to get going. Just forget it even happened, unless some nice gal is asking; then feel free to brag on my behalf.
Before I could answer anything else he had already hung up. I stayed for a little longer, waiting for my heart to finish regularizing, and for the image of Bruce touching himself to be completely eliminated from my brain. That last part though, seemed impossible. But it was only natural, right? I was traumatized for life.
—You sure took your sweet time there, Smallville. I didn’t know there was a bathroom in the storage room. —Lois was waiting for me.
—Quite snoopy, aren’t we Lois?
—I was worried, you started acting all weird all of a sudden.
—Right, worried.
—So…what happened?
—Nothing happened.
—Something happened.
—Nothing happened, I’m telling you.
—You’re sweating Clark, I’ve never seen you sweat before. It's fucking weird.
—It’s just hot in here, isn’t it?
—I thought your super-y kryptonian anatomy or whatever the fuck help you adapt to the weather or whatever.
—Climate change, horrible these days.
—I know you were talking to Bruce, did you guys finally accepted you’re madly in love with each other and fucked?
—What?! No. What? —what was she even talking about?
—Oh my God Clark, don't act all surprised. It’s so obvious. It's actually so disgusting and frustrating.
—Lois shut up, we are not in love. We didn't do anything.
—I was snooping, and that sounded like something clearly happened. Something sexual.
—Jesus, Lois just stop.
—It’s so obvious, don’t lie to me.
—I’m not! Nothing happened.
—Because if nothing happened now, I’m sure it’ll happen soon.
—Oh my God. You know what, believe whatever you want. You’re impossible. —I turned around and began my walk back to my desk.
—Oh by the way, Smallvielle! Perry was looking for you. He was really upset.
I kept walking, and I could feel her little amused smirk in the back of my neck.
Perry was indeed mad. I had taken 30 minutes too long in the storage room —30 minutes too long, having a pathetic meltdown over a sensual video—. Suddenly all the times where I had disappeared mysteriously had become fresh on Perry’s mind. “Are you lactose intolerant or something Kent?” The rant kept going. “If you weren't as good a reporter as you are, and if you didn’t have Superman’s full trust, I would've fired you a million years ago! As a matter of fact, I’m really tempted to do it at this goddamn moment!” The thing was, I couldn't focus on a single word Perry was throwing in my direction. All I could do was shake my head in agreement, and repeat “Yes sir, sorry sir, never again sir” like a loop. I just couldn’t wrap my head around it, around the why. I knew Bruce Wayne perfectly, Batman. He never made mistakes, he always had everything planned a gazillion years ahead…So why. “You try multitasking while sexting”, please, if anything, I bet Bruce was a master of multitasking while anything sex related. Especially sex related.
The day ended normally…”normally.” A bank robbery orchestrated by aliens, a second bank robbery only this one, orchestrated by humans. And a car collision where everyone made it out safe and well thanks to Superman. But the whole situation was still weird.
On one hand the whole absurd idea of Bruce making a mistake…on the other, the fact that I just couldn’t stop thinking about it —the image of his grip around it, the movements of his hand…up and down in gentle and restrained strokes. Firm. But over all, it was his voice —trembling and repressed. I could imagine his vitals in the moment, being so familiar with checking them. Lord, was I insane? this was Bruce…Was I sick?! Bruce! Bruce Wayne! Batman!
It probably was Lois’ fault with the whole “It's so obvious!” and “You guys are in love!” She was the sick one, Jesus! Just the idea was preposterous. Bruce is Bruce and I’m, well, me. Superman and Batman. Nothing more, nothing less…Anything outside that would be…
Impossible.
Ridiculous.
A bad joke.
Bruce and I didn’t talk for two weeks after that happened. Work had completely consumed me, and I assumed the same happened to him. Either way it wasn’t like I was dying to talk to him, and it was enough with Lois’ curious stare following me expectantly.
Lois, Jimmy and I were assigned a Lex piece. A huge party full of the highest elite was going to take place at Luthor corp. Some kind of inauguration for a new tech related project that was supposedly going to change how we view daily electronics. Lois suspected something more was going on, and Perry was tired of her insistent rant explaining why we needed this article, so he agreed.
—I’m friends with an insider, and I'm telling you guys, this is bad. 1984 level shit.
—Is this why we are meeting in the middle of nowhere with no phones or anything, at fucking midnight?! —Jimmy was holding onto me.
—Oh suck it up, Olsen, we literally have Superman here. And yes, that's exactly why. They’re implementing spy tech in our devices, to finally discover who Superman is.
—I mean, the league has been suspecting that for a while. We’re really careful around any electronic device. That's why Bruce bought Astro tech. Full privacy phones. No intrusive microphones, no weird generative artificial intelligence mingling.
—They’re passing a law, Clark, to regulate phone manufacturing. They’re using Latin American cartels as an example for why police forces need absolute access to people's phone calls and daily life conversations. Mics will stay on 24/7. They’re calling it “Falcon’s eye task force.” F.E.T.F.
—Oh Lord…
—Boravia is one of the governments investing in the whole project.
—Well, that really settles the real intentions here, then, —Said Jimmy, finally letting go of my arm.
—And what's your plan, Lu?
—Alerting the public before the desensitization propaganda becomes stronger is essential.
—But highly dangerous. We’ll become a target immediately —Jimmy added.
—Fuck! I know.
—I’ll alert the league. I’m sure Bruce knows something already. And we’ll see how to proceed.
—Y’all finally back to talking? —She smiled.
—Jesus Lois, shut up!
I had to go and see Bruce. We needed to arrange a meeting. We had to do something immediately.
I had to see him. Call him. Talk to him.
See. Him.
I really didn’t want to do that.
And the image came back to mind. Fully detailed recollection of the video —I remembered absolutely everything about it. I remember the position he was sitting on, the way the black pants he was wearing were wrinkled, half pulled down. I remember the hairy trail that began under his belly button and ended on his crotch. I remembered how he was gripping it —the movements, the sound…especially the sound. Every little detail there was to his intimate anatomy, I remembered. So much for photographic memory, huh?
So yeah, I really, really didn't want to see him.
Bruce was doing his usual patrol round. I followed his vitals all the way to the exact rooftop he was at.
—Ah Superman, it’s been a while, huh?
—Don’t take it personally Batman, I’ve been busy.
—I wasn’t. —He turned around. Two weeks. Seeing his face after what happened made it difficult to breathe. —So, to what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Busy.
—Ha. Ha. You’re really funny —I walked towards him —Lex Luthor, and the F.E.T.F. Law.
—The league is already working on it. You would’ve known that already if you hadn’t missed the past meetings.
—I’ve been busy, Bruce.
—So you’ve told me —he gave me a good look. The Batman look. So spooky. —I told you to forget it, man.
—Forget it? Forget what? I don’t remember anything!
—You’re such a bad liar.
—Well! Can you blame me?! Wouldn’t you be all freaked out in my position?
—I’ve seen plenty of dicks, Clark. I wouldn’t give a fuck about yours.
—So you wouldn’t freak out because I sent you a full porno video of myself?!
—No, because you would’ve been in my position, Clark. Bullet wound on the left shoulder and high as fuck with anesthesia. So just grow up man. You saw my cock, great! Ice breaker.
—I can’t get bullet wounds. Anesthesia doesn't affect me. —He smiled a little, contained it immediately.
—Ugh, fuck you Clark. It was a hypothetical.
—I like my hypotheticals realistic —I had forgotten how much I loved to see the little breaks in his personality when I said something so dorky that made him cringe.
—They diagnosed people for less. I don’t know much about kryptonian neurodivergency, but I'm sensing some here. —I chuckled. —A kryptonite bullet, then, Clark. For your much-needed realism.
—Okay, I get it. But I wouldn’t be horny in that situation, I’ll take your hypothetical and let it slide though, just this once.
—Are you coming to the next meeting?
—You know I will.
The next few days were quite hectic. After laying out all we had, Perry became extremely invested in the article. They gave the assignment a fake name and presented it as a mere media coverage piece.
Some new information was revealed about F.E.T.F.
After a meeting with Lois’ insider we finally had a whole grasp on the severity of proceeding with the piece. Melissa Sabbagh and Stefán Najjar were two Jahanpurean activists that went missing after speaking on a forum in the University of Barcelona. They were presenting the first stage of their research on privacy violations inflicted by the Boravian government on the people of Jahanpur, targeting activists and university students. They never made it back to their hotel after that.They'd been missing for two months, and there was absolutely no information or clue on where they could be.
Lois’ insider was shot not even twenty-four hours after the meeting.
They started following her not long after that —she said a black suburban had been parked outside her building for a couple days and that recently she noticed the car everywhere she went.
Bruce helped Lois move into a high-security apartment he owned in the city, and he made sure specialized guards were always keeping watch on her.
Paranoia was increasing within the team, and the league was still unsure how to stop the ruling from passing.
—Maybe we have to let it go. —Said Perry in one of the meetings. Two days before the Gala. —You’re competent, well established journalists. You’ve proven yourselves. I see a bright future for you all…that is if you make it out alive.
—I’m willing to die, sir, for the greater good. For the truth —Perry gave Lois a sad, heartfelt smile.
—That's why I’m worried, kid.
We were called to an emergency meeting at the Watchtower, my first meeting back after clearly avoiding Bruce, but definitely pretending I wasn’t. Dinah and Dick had found one of the missing activists, or what was left of them. The pictures were horrifying, nothing new for us, nonetheless, revolting. I felt the guilt settling on my lower belly, I gave Bruce a quick look, and his eyes were already on me, “get yourself together Superman”, that's what that stare meant.
It was idiotic, how me, Clark Kent….Kal El, son of the house of El, Superman, would allow such an immature reaction, over damn nothing. I hadn’t come to the meetings because I was so concerned with my own low level issues…and now two people were gone. One already confirmed dead.
If I could rip my brain out, I would. I had to get over the incident with Bruce, I had to forget.
—Superman! —I awoke from my thoughts. Bruce was staring at me, analytic, judgingly too, probably. —Nightwing was saying something.
—Sorry, I got lost in thought. Please proceed.
—As I was saying, Lois Lane has to distance herself. If she values her life, that is. —Said Dick.
—Well she doesn’t —I said, stress creeping into my voice —you already know that.
—I’ll talk to her —Diana seemed even more conflicted than me, but that made total sense.
—You know that’ll be useless —I added.
—She’s feisty, I like her —Bruce and Lois were uncomfortably similar, in the most different way possible. It was annoying.
—Maybe we could cause a leak. Felicity can help. Just enough to alert the public, provoke a panic state that’ll force them to cancel the gala, and therefore, the passing of the ruling. —Oliver intervened.
—That’ll do, just make sure it's clear Miss Lane isn’t connected to it at all. She isn’t like us, and Superman and Wonder Woman need that certainty —Bruce gave us a bland stare. I assumed it was his way of being reassuring.
It was still weird, and I hated that it was —for me, Bruce seemed as him as ever—. So much was going on. Both governmental efforts to uncover my identity and consequently, the league as well. Lois was in danger and I was…busy trying to control my thoughts around Bruce.
All I could think of when I had him in front of me, or when he spoke to me both on the phone or via hopes —just rating in my direction all the way from Gotham, was that I had seen him. That I knew what sounds he made and how he liked being touched.
I felt gross too, because I kept —involuntarily— revisiting those images, images that to begin with weren’t meant for me.
I was a bad friend, holding a grudge over a stupid mistake made by an injured and high Bruce Wayne. I was Superman, Jesus Christ. What was wrong with me? Looping over the video when he was ignorant of it, and sometimes —I must admit— at night.
He didn't know that I, his best friend, and a symbol of hope and honesty…was constantly thinking about him doing things to himself.
How pathetic.
I had been sleeping in Bruce's metropolis apartment, alongside Lois and Jimmy. I couldn't bear the idea of leaving them alone…and also, I didn’t like the idea of being all by myself with my gross thoughts.
I went over some of the evidence we had, looking to do something productive, instead of staring into the ceiling while recalling Bruce’s video, for the gazillionth time. But nothing was working. Analyzing the speeches given by the activist. Lois’ insider notes. What Dick and Dinah told us. It didn't matter how much I concentrated, or how much I reread the files, there was always a little voice in the back of my mind asking that question that burned impossibly in my throat: “Still, Isn't it weird?” I’d seen Bruce walk into a social gala with deadly wounds from the night before, as if nothing. I’d had plenty of conversations with him where he’d had a knife stabbed in some extremity.
So why now? Why me?
Send a simple sex text while half high, that seemed like a really easy task for Bruce Wayne. And the guilt came back, hard and ambushingly. How could I dare think about this nonsense while literally handling evidence?
I felt like crying, and laughing. Ripping out my brain.
Sleep would ease my mind. Ma’ always told me that when confusing, frustrating feelings came over us, a nice long sleep would help us find the answers we needed to face with calmness and certainty whatever was awaiting that had us in a bind. I had a long hot shower, and drank a glass of milk and read a little before finally closing my eyes.
The weather was nice at night. Just some distant sounds of the city, and the lingering of the chilly wind.
It had been a long day, and with my consciousness giving —slowly— to tiredness, I could feel my muscles and mind relaxing, finally.
Sudden steps awaken me in a rush.
—Jesus, Bruce! You scared me —I rose from my bed, shaken by the intrusion and the effects of sleepiness dumbing down my senses —What in the world are you doing here, man?
—You’re jumpy Clark. You always have to be prepared for when the enemy strikes.
—You’re just crazy. People usually sleep when they're sleeping, just so you know.
—People are fucking stupid, then.
—Right…back to my question, what are you even doing here at —I looked at the clock— 3:20 am. —He kept silent, just looking at me as if that would answer anything. —Bruce?
—I lied, Clark —He said, finally.
—What?
—It wasn’t an accident, Jesus. —He stepped closer to me. —The video, it wasn't an accident. I wanted to send it to you.
—What..?
—I said —he stepped closer — the video was meant for you.
—What? Why?
—Because I want you to fuck me.
—Wait, Bruce, calm down —again, that hammering feeling in my chest. Kryptonian heart attack. The rush of blood and adrenaline. Uncertainty.
—Can I kiss you Clark? —he cupped my face in his hands. —Can I kiss you?
His face was so close. I had never noticed —well I had, but in a “my friend is attractive” nothing more— how beautiful he was. His lips were so inviting, and the blue of his eyes so infinite. Like space, darker, hypnotic.
—Yes.
And he did.
His lips on mine, mine on his. It wasn’t sweet and slow. It was deep and hungry and a little rough. Just how I had always imagined it. I could feel his hands going up and down my back, exploring. His tongue deep inside my mouth —hot and perfect, and all I had been missing in life. The kisses went down my jaw, my neck.
I wanted more, needed more. Whatever he would give me, I would gladly take.
My shirt was off, he pushed me onto the bed. He smiled. My heart still hammering, strong and super-y and not human in the most human way possible. I could feel the blood bubbling in my chest, and how my lungs were struggling to pull in oxygen.
—Fuck Clark, you’re so hard —he whispered in my ear while massaging my really obvious bulge.
—I like that —I mumbled.
—You do? —He smiled, glossy lips from the saliva. I really liked his smile. —Clark, maybe it’s time for you to wake up.
—What? —Suddenly my tongue felt so heavy in my mouth.
—I said, wake up Clark!
My eyes opened and the realization took over my body, just like the sweat drenching me.