World's Finest redux [Batman]

Participants:Bruce Wayne & Superman
Open/Closed: Closed
Location(s): Wayne Manor
Time of Day: Evening
Weather: Warm
Summary: Talking with Bruce and Clark.

Clark nodded his head as Bruce rattled off the current points of life for his family members, it was good to hear. Bruce was an emotionally hard man, his relationships with each of his kids was a tough one but there was no doubting his love for those that followed his teachings, it just seemed sometimes he needed to be reminded of that so it was nice to hear him keeping up with all of them on his own - at least Clark hoped it was on his own, and not through cliff notes provided by Alfred...joking.

The reporter chuckled a bit at Damian's perceived adjusting, not necessarily that the information was funny but having interacted with the young boy before and knowing Bruce the term "adjusting" was probably not meant in the way most people meant it. There was almost certainly a lot of headaches, bruises, and scowling behind that "adjusting". Clark noticed the absence of one name in particular but he didn't push, there was so much going on in that relationship that it wasn't something that could be addressed in a short speech delivered by Clark, but he had complete faith that it would all work out for both men in the end. There was a soft smile on Clark's face, he was ever hopeful and optimistic. While Bruce may have been emotionally distant quite often he was also a strong willed man who cared a lot (even if he didn't know how to show it all the time) and who had been through more than enough heartbreak, he wasn't going to allow himself to let one of his kids down.

That smile on Clark's face only grew at the mention of Lois. "We're doing great! Amazing in fact," he nodded his head to confirm Bruce's statement about his own adopted child.

"Yes, Chris is back and its been so great to be able to spend time with him again. Thanks. Lois and I have been able to make more time for each other, or I've been able to make more time for her would be more accurate. Things just feel right, which probably means we have a Crisis on the horizon."

It was a slight joke (but also a nagging worry) that made Clark's smile curl up momentarily but ultimately lost its prior radiance. Not only was there the pang of caution in getting too happy, spurred by Chris being taken away from him before, but there was also the very conscious effort of not gushing and borderline gloating about his at home life to Bruce who did enough to cast himself into the dark without Clark waving sunshine and rainbows in his face. Still, it seemed Bruce was managing much better these days. It made Clark happy and proud at the same time.

Clark moved across the study with a slow speed, visually taking in the many trinkets and possessions that the room housed, until he reached one of the leather couches that he promptly sat upon and leaned into. "At risk of jinxing it all, I have to say I have really enjoyed this stretch of uneventful days."

As Clark spoke, Bruce made his way toward his desk, the slight tilt to his head signifying that he was still listening to the other man’s words. He was glad to hear things were going well for Clark and was attempting to pick out the right words to express as much, when the other man made a joke about a coming Crisis. It brought a grunt of agreement out of Bruce, who took a moment to gaze out the study’s large window onto the Manor grounds and sun shifting toward the horizon. While Bruce knew it was a sincere worry for Clark and anyone else in their life, it was a prominent one on his own mind. It was a habit of his he knew would not break and he had no interest in doing so. While others mocked it as paranoia, he closely guarded it as caution. He would rather be made a paranoid fool than be caught off guard due to lack of preparation.

He did not voice these thoughts. Alfred had informed Bruce quite a few times and with varying degrees of disapproval that he had a habit of ruining conversation with his “undying pessimism in regards to life.” Bruce had personally thought “undying” was a bit strong, but it was not a hill he had been willing to die on during that particular conversation.

He turned his attention from the window back toward his desk. He grabbed a bottle of Brandy that was probably far too expensive and two glasses. They were more for display than anything else, as alcohol was something Bruce rarely allowed himself to indulge in and honestly had little interest in doing so. Still, perhaps it was how “uneventful” things had been as Clark put it, or maybe it was simply because it was Clark, or maybe it was just a decent day for Bruce’s hosting skills, but he poured enough for a single swallow into each glass. He nodded at Clark’s words and stepped over to where the other man had taken a seat on the couch to hand him his glass.

“It has been helpful in my catching up from my… time away.” He didn’t want to say death, because he had not been dead. Journey through time, however, sounded too blithe. He stepped back toward his desk, leaned back against it, and swallowed the contents of his glass. “When we find out the sun is going to explode tomorrow, though, I’m going to blame you.” His tone was dry as ever, but the slight smirk now sitting on his lips was the tell that he was joking.

---


Clark Kent

The comfort in the study was almost unreal. It was no Fortress of Solitude but it had its own cozy charm that could comfort to the soul. Maybe Clark was over playing the feel of the homey office but it was most likely because Bruce was often tied to the cold dampness of the batcave. It was a nice change of pace, Clark admitted. That comfortability briefly stirred up the idea in Clark's head to kick his feet up as if he were in his own home, but of course Martha and Jonathan had taught the man much better than that. He leaned forward, barely a necessary act as Bruce had come close enough in delivering the glass, and nodded a wordless thanks before sinking back into the embrace of the couch.

Alcohol wasn't much of Clark's forte, for a number of reasons really, but he had gone into meetings with enough cultured and worldly men that he knew a spot of Brandy or Whiskey or Scotch was customary. He swirled the knuckle of amber liquid around in its glass, taking in the aroma for a brief moment before returning his gaze to the other man in the room.

"Yes, it can be quite the adjustment returning from time away." Clark knew this all too well having died himself at one point. But of course, like Bruce, Kal hadn't been actually dead at all, though his own time away and subsequent resurrection hadn't been quite as quest heavy as Bruce's, but just as strange. Clark lifted his glass at Bruce and then swallowed his own drink, the warmth over his tastebuds a welcome one.

Clark then cracked a smile, a low laugh barely making it past his lips as his glass was placed down. "You know, being a Kryptonian alcohol had never done anything for me, and being a Kent I had only ever been discouraged from trying the stuff, because naturally. But, there was one time," another laugh followed Clark's words, the memories as fresh as if they had been earlier that morning.

"After the whole Crisis with Superboy-Prime and that aftermath in which I was powerless for an entire year I did indulge. Call it curiosity or what have you but I, in my infinite wisdom, as a person who'd never been drunk once in their entire life decided to give alcohol a shot. Copious amounts, if we're being honest. The outcome, as you could probably imagine, was a disaster. I was hugging a toilet for weeks. Poor Lois, she had to deal with a six foot one, two-hundred pound baby." 

Laughter took Clark over as he revealed this story that otherwise had never been shared before. He wasn't sure why, it wasn't a safely harbored secret or anything, but that year of his life as relatively ordinary had always been fairly private. This felt like a good story in the moment to share though, especially with the stretch of crisis-free time they had been speaking of. It just felt good talking about mundane things and not apocalyptic events.

Bruce Wayne

An amused smirk made its way onto Bruce’s lips as Clark told his story. Once, long ago when he and Clark were mere acquaintances, he’d… resented Clark for his supposedly perfect nature. It had served, to Bruce, as yet another example of Superman’s alien nature and the distance between him and actual humanity. Now, of course, he was well-acquainted with Superman’s faults and he knew there was no one more human than Clark Kent.

“I would send Lois on a long vacation to recompense for putting up with you, but I doubt she’d take me up on the offer” he jested, though of course, should she or Clark ask, he would oblige. He merely found it difficult imagining the woman taking such a long break from work. He set his glass down on his desk, then crossed his arms. “Most of my drinking was done as a teenager. I would come home from not being at school, drunk, and Alfred wouldn’t say anything, though his opinion was clear. Coincidentally, Alfred always decided to vacuum first thing in the morning just outside my room the day after.”

A throat cleared and Bruce looked to see Alfred standing in the doorway. The older man’s mustache was twitching in a way that signaled he was withholding some amusement. “Pardon me, sirs, but I was setting the table and realized I forgot to inquire as to whether the manor’s newest occupant would be joining us this evening?” Bruce was familiar enough with the different, deceptively neutral tones Alfred’s voice tended to take that he knew Alfred was still just a little irritated over having that news just sprung on him not too long ago. Ah, so this was revenge.

No matter. Bruce did not get flustered. Even if the slight pause before his response was as close as he could get. “No, she is out for the evening.”

Alfred nodded. “Very well.” He took his leave and Bruce wasn’t entirely sure whether or not he imagined the smirk he saw flit across the man’s face.

Figuring it best to get the ordeal over with, Bruce turned to Clark, cutting off any question the man may have been about to ask. "I asked Selina to move into the manor. She accepted."

---

Clark Kent

People often had a hard time of seeing Bruce Wayne as strictly human, and Clark was sure that was of Bruce's own design for one reason or another. Whether he was Batman, the world's greatest detective and most prepared hero who could even take on the dark god Darksied himself or billionaire Bruce Wayne with the largest corporation the world had ever seen under his sway, Bruce Wayne astonished and intimidated all within his presence like absolutely no one before him. He was larger than life in and out of costume, but what most didn't have the privilege to realize was that those aspects were well crafted by Bruce. While those were true facets of his personality those things were not exactly who he was. Bruce was kind, open, accepting, and strong willed. He was a man who could admit faults and work his damnedest to correct them, the type of person forever seeking improvement. Bruce exemplified humanity.

Another laugh freed itself from the reporter, this time at Bruce's story that he could just so easily picture playing out before his very eyes. The two of them were very different men, and yet they always stumbled upon some fact about the other that they shared in earnest. Alfred had always been there to pick Bruce up when he was at his lowest, the man had done a commendable job in raising Bruce after the murder of his parents. Alfred was like Ma and Pa rolled up together in a swanky black and white suit. The two men in the study were two incredibly orphans.

Clark turned slightly in his seat upon hearing Alfred in the doorway, his eyes then shifted back at Bruce as he could tell Alfred had heard it all and just barely kept himself from laughing at the stroll down memory lane. It was moments like these that made every thing they all faced seem that less important. Going ten round with Doomsday didn't seem that bad if it meant another chance at another casual conversation with his best friend where they could make each other laugh. Such flowery thoughts in mind dissipated in an instant, Clark's attention snapping back to Alfred with eyebrows that pointed straight upward. 

Hold the phone!

It was as nonchalant and graceful as a slip of the tongue, but Clark knew it was anything but. Alfred had sat Bruce up, pushing him as far as he could so that Bruce would be forced to take the leap he had been avoiding the entirety of their conversation. As Alfred vanished in victory Clark turned to his friend, his face as sly and cheeky as Alfred's must have been on the inside.

He didn't have to ask anything, Clark didn't need to pry it out because Alfred had already done enough of the work himself. When Bruce at last spoke Clark nodded with a smile of approval. "Congratulations." It was great news, extraordinary even! Bruce deserved happiness and it seemed he was finally allowing himself to have some. Clark always thought Selina was a perfect match for Bruce, she was both stern and hard-headed enough to put up with him. 

"I'm so happy for you, Bruce. I really am."

Bruce knew what was coming next, so there was really no need to even protest or try to avoid it. Clark stood from his seat and wrapped Bruce in a tight embrace.

He gave a quick roll of his eyes at Clark’s enthusiasm, as if Bruce had just announced he and Selina were retiring to the countryside to start a shelter for homeless cats. Or, perhaps, Clark’s reaction was custom for such news and Bruce was obtuse for wanting to downplay it. Either way, he accepted Clark’s embrace with a huff of annoyance that was more feigned than actual. In truth, Bruce was, dare he say, happy with how things were unfolding with Selina this time. It felt private to him, though. Like anything and anyone else that was important to him, it was instinct to hold it close and refuse to let go. He supposed, like any rich man, he was terrible at sharing.

“During my travels through time and for Batman Incorporated, I thought about a lot of things. My life, mostly” he admitted when Clark stepped back. His eyes briefly strayed to a portrait of his parents across the room. “I noticed room for improvement on my part.” Clark was of only a handful Bruce would ever admit such a thing to, and even fewer that he was do so unprompted. Bruce’s very nature rejected any hint of vulnerability. He’d spent his childhood a walking wound and had resolutely disavowed such a path long ago.

The biggest obstacle to his current plan, his mission of self-improvement, was currently the how. He knew he needed to communicate more: express himself properly and invite others in beyond his walls. He was lost as to how to accomplish that or if it was even possible for him at this point. Yes, he was making strides such as his conversation with Dick and his relationship with Selina, even this talk now with Clark. Still, he was holding back. He should’ve, perhaps, been asking Clark for advice or delving deeper into the flaws he saw within himself. His pride, however, still held a tight grip on his words.

---

Clark Kent