Clark watched Bruce from across the gala hall. Bruce is in his tailored suit, looking as handsome as ever. He was flirting with another Gotham socialite—which wasn’t new. The part that made Clark’s blood boil was that he couldn’t tell whether Bruce was enjoying the flirting or not.
Clark would always tell. Always. Bruce was an open book to him. Yet he couldn’t see anything past the way Bruce laughed at everything the man said and didn’t recoil whenever the man flirtatiously touches his wrist.
It enraged him. It took him years to get Bruce to even look at him for longer than two seconds, and just recently Bruce had stopped grunting in disapproval whenever he lingered too close. Yet this man was getting all his smiles and touches.
Smiles and touches that didn’t belong to him.
“Cool it, Boy Scout.” Lois’s voice suddenly came from beside him. “I’m fine.” His voice was clipped as he took the champagne float she offered him and downed it in one go. Alcohol didn’t affect him, but it was moments like this where he wished he could drown himself in it.
“Sure you are.” Lois looked in the direction he bore holes in. It was obvious to her in ways it wasn’t to Clark. Her friend was a man that knew everything about Bruce—as scary as it was at time—it was funny that he couldn’t tell what Bruce was doing. “He’s not your boyfriend, Clark. You remember that, right?” She knew that was a low blow, but sometimes he needed the reminder that he didn’t own Bruce Wayne.
Clark’s jaw clenched as Bruce turned to the side just long enough for their eyes to connect for a second. There was a sparkle in the he’d never seen before. It was driving him insane.
“I know, Lois. He just-“ he cut himself off, swallowing before he could say something he couldn’t take back. He wanted to monopolize Bruce. Keep him locked away in the fortress of solitude where no one else could ever find them.
Not here, in a glitzy gala hall, talking to a man he didn’t know and getting way too close for comfort.
“I’m going over there.” Clark decided, not enjoying the way the man’s fingers wrapped around Bruce wrist nor the way his lips just barely touched the curve of Bruce’s ear as he whispered something into his ear. “Clark!” Lois grabbed his forearm, feeling him slightly weaken against the kryptonite ring on her finger that was made for moments like these, but it didn’t work. Clark was running on pure fumes now.
Nothing could stop him as he yanked his arm from her grip and moved his way through the crowd towards him. As if sensing a raging bull coming towards him, Bruce turned. Clark towards over him, the slightest tint of red shining in his eyes.
“Bruce.” Clark gritted, not sparing the other man a glance in fear that he might do something drastic. “Clark! I knew I saw you here!” He played up his Brucie bit, pulling his wrist from the man’s hold to wrap his arms around Clark’s instead. “Perry sent me to get interviews.” He explained his presence, his anger subsiding a little from Bruce’s touch.
Bruce hummed, his eyes bright as he looked at him before turning to look at the man again. “I don’t think you’ve met yet! Clark this is my new friend-“ He didn’t let him finish. Perhaps if he knew the man’s name, it’d solidify that there was someone out there that could take him from him.
“May I steal you away for an interview, Mr. Wayne? It’ll be quick so you make come back to your…friend.” The word felt bitter on his tongue, but a pleased smile stretched across Bruce’s face regardless. “Of course!” Bruce’s arms squeezed around his before he let go and faced the man.
“I’ must go but, do enjoy the gala!” He excused himself before he walked off with Clark on his tail.
Lois watched from afar as Bruce dragged a seething dog by the collar into a darkened, secluded, hallway within Wayne Enterprise. She knew the game Bruce was playing. He was cunning, smart. He knew Clark’s every tick and intention.
That man was a socialite from California that had come to visit before signing a contract. He was no one special to Bruce. But Clark was. And Bruce enjoyed watching Clark lose his cool.
