Clark is...
Honest, and caring. He worries, and works hard to do the best. To give the best. He's sunshine and warmth and hope and peace. His eyes encapsulate those sentiments, shining with good intentions, looking forward to a better future.
But those eyes had never looked at him.
But those eyes gave nothing but despair to Bruce's already tired and heavy heart.
And Bruce had, at some point, learned to accept it.
He had learned to live with the fact that there would never be love reflected on those irises. That there would never be sweet nothings spewed from those lips. That those hands would never grab into his with such care and love and- it just wasn't meant to be.
And that was okay. It hurt for a long period. It hurt, and he cried. And cried some more. Until his tears dried, his vision unblurred from the sadness... And Bruce could finally look forward again. Goals and plans and laughter and sadness and loss and... Life. There was too much life to just keep focusing on Clark. Too much to live to keep on wasting sighs and air on the feeling of being unwanted.
And Bruce felt complete again. He replaced the missing piece with a new one. And Dick's smile made him forget the pain. Barbara's little jabs made him remember himself. And Jason's laughter had him dreaming again. It was Tim's tears that brought him back to himself. And Stephanie's scoffs had him laughing till lacking air. Sweet Cass' hugs brought him to tears. And Damian's forehead kisses centered him... Duke asked him if he was ok.
The teen grabbed his hand, and worriedly told him he had been seeing him. He had been seeing him. Because he has people actually seeing him...
And even thought he should have, he couldn't lie to his sweet boy.
How could he?
How can he lie and pretend the way those blue eyes looking at him doesn't affect him? How can he lie to his son's face and tell him those lips opening with sweet nothings don't hunt his nights? How can he tell him the touches that those fingers leave on his being leave nothing but burnt disgust, like ants crawling under his skin?
He should be happy. He should be! But-
But he hates it.
Why now? Why coming to distract him, to push him and confuse him... When he's fulfilled? Why now?
When he's happy?
He hates it. And he hates himself for it. So he does his best to avoid him. But avoiding him hurts. So. Much. And it's not fair. He gave him his all and got nothing back... But now that he's finally complete...
It's not fair.
Duke doesn't cry, but his brown eyes are close to tears as he grabs his hands between his owns. And oh, the golden coating the brown is so beautiful and looks so much like love.
Duke's eyes gave him love.
He promises himself healing as he hugs his son and cleans his tears. Healing. He'll speak to Clark tomorrow.
