“No blanket?” asked Nightwing, frowning as he glanced down at the bedroll that had just been assigned to him. Clark winced a little and gave him what he hoped was a conciliatory smile. The bedrolls really weren’t more than a glorified cushion, and he knew from experience that they were not comfortable. Unfortunately, they were kinda all they had at this point because no one had planned to be on this ship for more than six hours.
There was some kind of skirmish between two planets that blocked the normal travel routes, and the Lantern Corps was redirecting traffic. Apparently, this was turning into a logistical nightmare, and Hal had been on the phone for nearly two hours. Clark guessed being a space cop also meant having to do space traffic duty, and he did not envy the Lantern. Regardless, their small rescue mission into space was now a multiday journey on a ship that really wasn’t built for it.
It wasn’t exactly the best way to introduce their new recruit, Nightwing, to the Justice League, but Clark really didn’t have a choice in the matter.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “I promise that usually we are more prepared, and this is a one-off. We should be back to the Watchtower by morning, though.”
Nightwing shrugged. “Don’t worry. This won’t be the worst place I’ve slept, but I’ll definitely be missing my cape.”
Clark didn’t know what that meant because he really didn’t know anything about Bludhaven’s elusive vigilante at all. His past was a black hole and, despite multiple questions to Batman about him, the League database remained bare on his history.
So Clark did whatever he did when someone said something confusing, but he didn’t want to make the situation weird - he smiled and lightly said “I hear ya’”.
Nightwing, sensing the conversation was at an end, stepped back and let the hero take their bedroll from Clark.
Out of the corner of his eye, Clark saw Nightwing turn and take stock of the heroes that were all starting to settle on the space ship’s floor.
He winced to himself. Of course, Nightwing wouldn’t know where to go. He didn’t know anyone on this ship and was probably feeling like the new kid at camp, awkwardly standing to the side as all the other kids grouped up with the people they already knew. Clark knew that feeling. He had been that kid multiple times before and hated the rejected loneliness that had always settled into the pit of his stomach. He also remembered all those times when he had just wished for someone to please reach out.
He opened his mouth, just about to tell Nightwing that he could sleep near Clark, but before he did, he saw the younger hero perk up.
He followed Nightwing’s gaze (only a little difficult with the domino mask) and could have sworn Nightwing was looking at Batman.
Then, even more shockingly, the young man, began trotting off in Batman’s direction, piercing the little bubble of isolation that the veteran hero always seemed to command.
“Woah,” Hal said from Clark’s left. He was apparently done with his space phone call and looked more tired from that than the mission that had led to all this. “That’s kinda ballsy.”
They watched as Nightwing, not only barrelled right through Batman’s ever-present distance of respect, but also smacked his bedroll down right next to Batman’s, leaving no space between them.
“Do they know each other?” asked Hal, face scrunching in confusion. Young heroes were always too scared to even talk to Batman, let alone walk right up to him and ask to be bed buddies.
Did they know each other? Clark questioned to himself. In the process of recruiting Nightwing, Batman hadn’t hinted at knowing Nightwing as more than a distant coworker in a different city. He assessed the young man’s capabilities and described a few brief interactions with him to coordinate intercity operations between Gotham and Bludhaven, but nothing more than that. He spoke of the vigilante frankly and brusquely, as he did with every topic. Surely, Batman would have mentioned knowing him as a friend in the recruiting process.
“They have to know each other,” said Hal, watching as Batman turned in his bedroll to give Nightwing a glare that was withering, even through the cowl. The look seemed to roll right off of Nightwing, though, who just plopped down and began talking.
So, even though Clark knew it was rude and Ma would smack him with a dishtowel if she had been here, Clark listened in.
“What are you doing?” Batman’s rich, rolling voice was the first thing Clark heard, and it sent a little shiver down Clark’s spine.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” shot back Nightwing as he tried to make the bedroll even marginally more comfortable.
Batman remained quiet, a move that probably would have made any other young hero want to shrivel up and die, but Nightwing was somehow immune and just kept talking.
“We’re having a sleepover.”
“Are we?” said Batman, and, even more miraculously, there was something that sounded a whole lot like affection and maybe a little teasing in his tone.
It made Clark’s heart pause for just a brief moment in his chest. It also made him want to sink into the floor. In all these years of being on the League, he had never once heard Batman use that tone. Now, there was this… kid that was drawing it out of him in less than ten words?
Suddenly, he looked at Nightwing in a way he had never looked before.
Objectively, he knew the young hero was good-looking even through the domino mask. He had a sharp jaw and an absolutely infectious smile. He also wore a skin-tight suit that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, and many times, he had caught some of the younger heroes taking a certain appreciation about that fact.
The thing was, it was always the younger heroes. He didn’t know Nightwing’s exact age, but he had to be a good fifteen to twenty years younger than Clark, which meant he was probably also about fifteen years younger than Batman.
Is… it that what Batman liked?
Clark felt an ugly twist in his gut. Batman had never shown any interest in any of the younger heroes, but he hadn’t shown any interest in anyone on the Watchtower. At all. Clark knew that fact very, very well.
But Batman wasn’t pulling away as Nightwing sidled closer, hand going underneath Batman’s cape. He didn’t tell the younger hero to stop it as the man pulled on it.
Clark told himself that the sick feeling in his stomach was just there because of the thought of dating someone fifteen years younger than him. He did not call it jealousy.
“Nightwing,” Batman’s voice filled Clark’s entire brain. He sounded just a little bit disapproving, but not enough to stop it.
“Ah,” Clark wanted to scream at how warm Batman sounded. “Now I see.”
Nightwing tugged at the cape harder, and Batman chuckled, a sound that Clark literally didn’t know Batman could make and made him absolutely weak in the knees like a little schoolgirl.
“Brat,” said Batman, affection so clear now that Clark didn’t want to think of him sounding like anything else.
Batman turned in his bedroll and unclipped the cape from his shoulders. He turned back to the younger hero and shifted closer to him. Then, he spread out the cape between them, covering both of their bodies under the dark fabric.
Nightwing gave a pleased sigh and then turned to whisper something to Batman, and that’s when Clark stopped listening.
It felt too intimate now. Now with both of them curled together in the same bed, breathing the same air in the same space.
“I guess Bats likes them young,” said Hal, his gaze sharp and with a small frown. Clark tried to mirror it even though his emotions were a storm inside him.
“Guess so,” he said, trying to be so casual. So so casual. So casual and not even thinking about what they could be doing in the corner.
Quietly, he grabbed his own bedroll and went to the furthest corner away from Batman, hoping the distance would ease the sick feeling in his stomach.
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