Superman introducing Battinson Bruce to his parents though.
Ma and Pa Kent open the door, ready to meet their boy’s new bf, but it’s only Clark on the porch.
Clark: :D
Ma: Hi, honey. Where is your boy?
And then, peeking around the door frame, is Bruce in a suit and long wool coat, gaunt, squinting against the sun.
Bruce: hi it’s nice to meet you I’m Bruce
Pa: Oh, you didn’t have to get all dressed up to meet us!
Bruce: Mybutlermademe
Ma: Butler? Mercy, Clark, where did you find this one?
—
Clark disappears into the kitchen to help Ma with dinner, leaving Bruce and Pa sitting in the front room watching a baseball game. Bruce is sitting in an armchair, stiff as a board, anxiety level 100.
Pa: So Clark tells me you do the same sort of thing he does? Swoop around and help folks and such?
Bruce, blurting out the first thing that comes to mind: I can’t fly.
Pa: Wh—Okay?
Bruce: I am a bat but I can’t fly. Not without my Wingsuit.
Pa:…
Bruce, realizing what he just said: never mind
Pa, turning back to the tv: So how about them Yankees?
—
Ma: And this is our chicken coop. It’s a little musty, but Clark comes by to help tidy up once a week.
Bruce: *observing*
Ma: There’s this got-dang coyote—
Bruce, pointing at the corner: The coyote that’s been eating your chickens is burrowing under there. Reinforce it.
Ma:…I love you.
—
Pa: So what’s it like in Gotham?
Bruce, hunching over: The city is overrun with crime. Darkness lurks in every corner. We have an average twelve days of sun a year. Recently there has been a noxious cloud of gas hanging over the city center. I perch myself on my tower to observe. I become part of the building. I am a gargoyle.
Pa:…
Pa: Do you like living there?
Bruce, whispering fiercely: iloveit
—
Clark, flying Bruce back home: My parents love you.
Bruce: okay
Clark: They’re convinced you’re a cryptid that’s latched onto my soul, though.
