It is actually so important to me that Clark did not defeat Luthor. He stopped his current rampage, yes, and that is very important. But Luthor loses the moment the news article goes live.
He is defeated by Eve, who found a way to document all his shady bullshit despite understanding perfectly well what kind of danger she is in. He is defeated by Lois, who already knows Luthor is up to no good but spends the whole movie finding proof of it so she can publish it.
Clark didn't even know about basically any of that stuff before he saw it on the news. He did not defeat Luthor. He just bought Lois the time she needed to do it.
Plot: 3rd chapter of my superbat series. Dick Grayson comes home to his father after months of being off the grid, Bruce has to navigate parenting which he’s still learning to do, so he invites Clark over to hang out.
CW: fluff, angst, anxiety/people pleasing, mentions of violence/death/injuries, kissing, daddy issues, miscommunication, One f-bomb, one s-bomb, mention of the crowbar
Word Count: 2.7k (beefed up a bit on this one)
A/N: For clarity, Dick is 21, Jason is 19, Tim is 18, Damian is 14. Damian is not Robin yet, Tim is.
Batman stands on a rooftop in Gotham analyzing a group of criminals as they go about making their plans.
“Hey,” says a voice that Batman knows well.
He turns around and stares at Nightwing.
“You’re taller,” Batman acknowledges, his voice cold.
Nightwing stands unflinching under Batman’s gaze, “I guess that comes with age.”
Batman turns back to the criminals. “It’s been three months.”
“I know.”
“Are you… coming home tonight?” Batman asks, immediately feeling the uneasiness emanating from his son.
“I should be,” Nightwing responds, “We need to talk.”
Batman nods, then looks back at Nightwing, “Help me fuck them up?” he offers, jerking his head toward the criminals below them.
Nightwing snorts and then shakes his head in exasperation, “You never change, do you?”
Batman sighs and leaps over the railing, descending upon the unprepared gang. Nightwing follows suit.
Bruce lets the shower water run over his body, every time he blinks he sees his son’s fist connect with the body of a killer. Every time Bruce watches Dick fight now, all he can picture is that god damn crowbar. He shuts the water flow off, toweling off his bruised skin. Batman, however talented and strong he may be, will, unfortunately, always be human.
Bruce walks out of his bathroom, preparing himself for two possible futures. One, where his son is not in the living room, and another where he is. Bruce walks down a hallway and descends a staircase, relieved and very uncomfortable to see his first born, fully grown son standing in the mansion, staring at a portrait on the wall.
“Where did you go?” Bruce asks, anger bubbling under his skin after months of fear.
Dick looks over his shoulder, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie, his face set in an expression that Bruce only recognized from looking in the mirror. “I thought you’d have guessed correctly by now.”
Bruce looks at the carpeted floor beneath his feet, “Did you…” he looks up again, a tiny bit of hope in his eyes.
Dick shakes his head, “He learned from the best.”
Bruce stews in shame. If he trusted anyone to find his boy, it would be Dick. Bruce sighs, “Damian’s home.”
Dick tenses, “I thought he might be.”
“You should go talk to him. The longer you wait, the worse it will be,” Bruce reminds him. Dick takes a deep breath and starts towards the front stairs, before Bruce calls out, “Dick?” Richard Grayson turns- tall and elegant and so not the child he used to be- to face his father. Bruce opens and closes his mouth like a fish until he can finally admit, “We missed you, son.”
Dick’s eyes narrow and there’s a moment of silence before he quickly nods and walks out of the room.
Not a minute later Bruce can hear excited shouts from upstairs, then they turn angry, then a door slams, then footsteps, and another door. ‘Dick’s room is further away from Damian’s, he must have gone to Jason’s room,’ Bruce assumes. He doesn’t go to check, it wouldn’t go over well, he knows that for sure. He waits for a moment, and sure enough he hears a door open and footsteps rush down the stairs until Damian Wayne is demanding, “Why didn’t you tell me he was home?”
Bruce places a hand on Damian’s shoulder, “I only just found out myself.”
“Then why did you forgive him? Why does he just get to come back, no yelling, no repercussions?”
Bruce’s heart sits in his throat. Dick was there when they finally saw Jason again, and when he ran away without a word. Dick would do anything to get Jason home, to a point of almost dying several times. Bruce hated it, but he couldn’t stop another adult, as much as he tried to. The Jason they knew was gone, and the living one chose to run of his own accord. Bruce couldn’t stop that either.
“Dick’s an adult. He’s my son. He’s your brother. As angry as I am, I can’t blame him for leaving.”
Damian stares at his dad in disbelief, “Are you serious? He’s been gone for months, and every second he was gone you tore yourself apart searching for him, and now everything is okay?”
“I miss him, Damian,” Bruce clarifies, “I don’t want to give him another reason to run.”
Damian’s face softens, and Bruce is surprised at how similar his sons can look, despite their varying pasts. “I can’t just… forgive and forget, you know?” Damian replies sincerely.
“I don’t expect you to. Believe me, I’m still mad, but he’s my kid. He might not need me, but…“
Damian cuts him off, “He does, he’s just too chicken-shit to say it.”
Bruce tries to repress a smile. “Go to bed, kid, you have school tomorrow.”
Damian rolls his eyes, “Doesn’t Tim have college? How come he gets to come out with you?”
Bruce smiles, “Tim is also an adult. Besides, he didn’t come out tonight.”
Damian frowns, “Then you should have invited me. You know I’m capable-“
“Yes, Damian, I know, but I want you-“
“To have a normal childhood and blah blah blah blah blah,” Damian finishes as he exits back toward his bedroom, shoulder checking Dick who was strolling back into the living room.
Bruce quirks an eyebrow, silently asking, ‘What’s up?’
Dick avoids eye contact, “I don’t suppose my room is still…”
“I’ll ask Alfred to change the sheets for you.”
“So… Dick is home,” Bruce confides to Clark Kent through the phone.
Clark chokes on his hot chocolate as the elevator of the daily planet rises to his floor, “No way, how are you feeling? How is he? Oh man, how’s Damian?”
Bruce smiles to himself as he flips through a file, pacing the length of his office. “We’re all… adjusting. I think he might have noticed that I actually cared when he left, so that’s a step forward. I had a good talk with Damian, too, so I don’t think the two of them will be at odds for too long.”
Clark breathes a sigh of relief as if that’s been weighing on his mind ever since he learned about Dick leaving, which was 3 very long nights ago. “I’m so glad he’s okay,” Clark says, stepping out of the elevator and walking toward his desk, “How are you holding up, though? I mean, I know this has been really hard for you.”
“It’s significantly easier just hearing your voice, Clark.”
Clark stands in front of his desk, face bright red, “Heheh, hehehe… heh.”
Bruce exhales a laugh through his nose, “Speaking of which, would you want to come by tonight?”
“Oh! Oh, yeah, sure!” Clark’s face splits into a grin.
“Okay, bye, Clark.” Bruce hangs up the phone and Clark sits at his desk with a loud thump due to his extreme heft.
“Is that him?” Lois asks, causing Clark to nearly jump out of his skin, “Is that the guy that you met at the bar?” she rolls toward him with intent.
Clark continues to flush, his mouth gaping.
Jimmy cuts in, “Oh, it totally is.”
“He- we- okay, you both need to- just, shush,” Clark splutters out. The other two reporters stare at him like, ‘Come on, dude, spill,’ until he finally verifies that, “Okay, yes, we’re going out.”
Both Jimmy and Lois grin excitedly and immediately start pestering him about how many dates they’ve been on and if they’ve done anything, and Clark is honest until Perry tells them to get to work.
During his lunch break, Clatk heads to the coffee shop down the street, taking a moment to call his cousin Kara while he bites into his sandwich.
She answers quickly, “Hey, freak.”
“Hey, twerp,” he replies, “How’s it going? How’s Krypto?”
“I’m hungover, he’s very excited, generally, things are good here.”
Clark grins, “Awesome.”
“How’s Bruce?” Kara asks, her tone teasing, “Set up that third date yet?”
“He actually invited me over. Like, tonight.”
Kara screaches into the phone, “YES YES YES THIS IS AWESO-” And with a beep, she accidentally hangs up.
Clark shakes his head, amused, then he finishes his lunch and heads back to work.
Bruce enters his home to find 18 year old Tim Drake, also known as the current Robin, in the foyer, excitedly talking with Dick.
“Hey,” Bruce greets them.
Tim turns to him and grins, “Hey, are the three of us going out tonight?”
Bruce shakes his head, “I’m having someone over.”
Both boys look at him completely confused. “For work?” Damian asks, entering from the kitchen.
Bruce looks around at the three boys uncomfortably, slowly replying, “Uh… no.”
Everyone in the room but Bruce is reeling, he hears various responses of, “What?” “Who?” and “How?”
He waits for the room to quiet before he offers, “If I fill you in, will you not freak him out?” Tim nods immediately, Dick sighs and then nods, Damian shrugs his shoulders with a blank expression, so Bruce tells them, “His name is Clark, this is our third date, we met a couple weeks ago in Metropolis.”
There’s silence is the room for a moment before Dick pipes up, “You like guys?” Tim elbows him in the side, and Dick puts his hands up saying, “No big deal, just considering I’ve known him the longest, I thought I’d already be aware of that!”
Tim crosses over to Damian and pulls both of Bruce’s sons up the front staircase, shouting over his shoulder, “We won’t bother you two!” as the three of them disappear into Damian’s room.
When Clark arrives, he’s extremely surprised to find that when Bruce said, “My- Alfred,” he was talking about his butler.
“Welcome, Mr. Kent. Master Bruce is in the living room,” Alfred explains, leading Clark through the largest, most beautiful house he’d ever seen.
As they enter the living room, Clark’s eyes flit around at the gorgeous paintings and furniture, before landing on Bruce who’s just stood from the couch. His hair is slightly damp from showering, his eyes shining.
Clark turns to thank Alfred, but finds he has completely disappeared. “Does he do that often?”
“He does,” Bruce replies, placing his drink down on the coffee table, “Can I get you anything?”
“I’ll take a water,” Clark responds, staring up at a giant painting of Bruce and his children above the fireplace. He notices that there are three boys, all pretty young, and he wonders which one is Dick and which is Jason. Being a reporter, he knows that Bruce lost a son, but it isn’t something they’ve talked about yet.
“Jason has the shorter hair,” Bruce explains, passing Clark a glass of water.
“They look so alike.”
“They do.”
Clark looks at Bruce, “I’m sorry, I’m here to cheer you up and look at me-“
Bruce places a hand on Clarks arm, “You’re here because I wanted you here, you don’t need to act like you’re unwelcome.”
They sit down on the couch, Clark putting his arm comfortably around Bruce, and Bruce leaning into Clarks chest, taking his first relaxed breath all day. “So,” Clark begins, “How’s parenting?”
Bruce barks out a laugh, “Well apparently Dick didn’t know I like men, so I accidentally came out to him, like, an hour ago.”
Clark chuckles, “Yikes, how was that?”
“Surprisingly casual. He said it wasn’t a big deal, then Tim dragged him away.”
“Wait, who’s Tim?”
“Oh, he’s… he’s…” unsure of how to explain their relationship, Bruce finishes, “Dick’s friend.”
Clark furrows his eyebrows, but he doesn’t question it. He doesn’t want to be rude. Then Clark realizes, “Wait, are your kids here?”
Bruce sits up to look at Clark, “Is that a problem?”
“No, no! I just… I don’t know.”
Bruce’s eyes narrow the same way Dick’s did the night before, “I think I’d prefer if you finish that thought now.”
Clark sits up too, suddenly worried, “I’m not bothered, or anything! They’re your kids, of course they’d be in your house, it’s just a little… intimidated, I guess?”
“How so?”
“I don’t know, what if I run into one of them, and they hate me?”
“Nothing would change”
“How?”
“Because I like you, and if there was something wrong with you I would know it, so if they didn’t like you, it wouldn’t be for a legitimate reason,” Bruce responds, matter of fact, placing his drink down on the coffee table again.
“How can you be so sure?” Clark asks, quietly.
Bruce kisses Clark briefly, and pulls away to say, “I just am.”
Clark leans back in, sliding one hand into Bruce’s hair and the other settling on his waist when Bruce pulls back, wincing. “Oh, shoot, are you okay?” Clark asks, his hands recoiling immediately.
Clark had, unfortunately, placed his hand right where Bruce had been jabbed pretty hard the night before by a particularly strong fighter. “I’m fine, just a bruise,” Bruce reassures.
“From what?”
“Uh- walked into a… chair,” Bruce lamely answers.
Clark stifles a laugh, “A chair?”
Bruce raises an eyebrow, “What?”
“Oh, come on. A chair? The unshakable Bruce Wayne falls to a chair?”
Bruce shakes his head, “You’re the worst,” he stands and walks toward the kitchen with their glasses.
“Okay, okay. Was it at least a big chair?” Clark teases, following close behind Bruce. Bruce scoffs, placing the cups in the sink and beginning to wash them as Clark places his head on Bruce’s shoulder, eyeing the dish washing process and asking, “Why is a billionaire washing his own dishes?”
Bruce sets the dishes down on the bottom of the sink exasperatedly, “Are you going to spend the whole night making fun of me?”
Clark grins, placing a kiss on Bruce’s neck and responding, “Maybe not the whole night.”
Bruce turns around so he and Clark are face to face. “Charming,” Bruce comments, placing his hands on Clark’s hips.
“I know you are, but what am I?” Clark asks, leaning down slightly to capture Bruce’s lips. The kiss is slow and soft, and lasts maybe a little bit longer than intended. When Bruce pulls away, Clark is breathing heavy.
Bruce places a hand on Clark’s shoulder, “I have to go check something. I’ll be right back.” Bruce slips out of Clark’s grasp and heads upstairs, realizing he hasn’t had anyone in his room in a long time, and he wants to be sure there is nothing obviously Batman related out in the open.
Clark faces the counter, warm and flushed. He pushes his hair back and turns around to find a black haired man staring at him, “Oh-my-gosh!” Clark squeaks out.
Dick’s hands are still shoved in his pockets, his dark eyebrows set in a frown and his shaggy hair long enough to fall into his eyes.
Clark makes awkward eye contact until he realizes he should probably introduce himself. “Uh… hi! I’m-“
“Clark Kent. I know who you are,” Dick claims, obviously not pleased.
“Right… you’re Dick?”
“And you’re a reporter.”
Clark’s eyebrows shoot up, “You’ve read my work?”
Dick nods and Bruce re-enters the room, the comfortable smile on his face immediately falling when he sees Dick. “Everything okay?” Bruce questions, very aware of the tension in the room.
Dick turns to Bruce, “He’s a reporter.”
Bruce looks perplexed, “Yeah, he is.”
Dick sneers at his father, spinning on his heel and heading to his own room.
Clark looks at Bruce, “I’m guessing I should head home so you can figure that out?”
“Yeah, probably,” Bruce affirms, solemnly.
Bruce walks Clark to the door, closing it behind them and saying, “Whatever that was, I don’t think it’s specific to you.”
“It felt pretty personal,” Clark remarks, shifting where he stands uncomfortably.
“Maybe… I’ll figure it out.”
“Are you… still sure nothing’s going to change?”
Bruce abruptly pushes Clark against the wall next to the door, pulling him down by the neck and latching onto his lips with fervor.
“I am,” Bruce Wayne replies, opening the door to his house again, and stepping inside to deal with the conflict at hand, leaving Clark Kent extremely disgruntled and grinning like an idiot.
A/N: Jason was killed and resurrected 2 years ago, they found out he was alive about 9 months ago.
