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Bruce
Bruce walked down the stone steps of the museum, his gait with a slight, purposeful stumble to keep up the illusion that he was drunk out of his mind. His coat jacket was rumpled, and his tie was tied as if a 12-year-old had done it. No, that was an insult to 12-year-olds, his son Dick coming to mind. Still, he kept a smile on his face, waving to the cameras as he passed through the crowd of press from the unveiling event. The smile was not because he was horribly inebriated; no, it was because Bruce knew the night had been a success.
Brucie Wayne had made a fool of himself yet again.
The man kind of wished he would allow himself to be drunk for nights when he decided Brucie had been acting a little bit too capable. When the press answers got a little bit too serious. When the idea that he was actually a very smart businessman started to surface in nearby conversations. That’s when he knew he suddenly had to start looking like he had a little too much to drink, and maybe start losing clothes to take the public’s attention off his words and to his body instead.
Bruce slid into the backseat of a car and looked up to see light gray eyes staring back at him in the rearview mirror.
“I do hope you enjoyed yourself tonight, Master Bruce. I, for one, did not realize you had so much difficulty with neckwear, sir,” came Alfred’s smooth, British sass.
Bruce’s hands flew to his tie as the car moved forward, expertly and swiftly fixing the knot around his collar. “Don't worry about me, Alfred. These are necessary steps to ensuring no one can connect-”
“Spare me the explanation again, sir,” Alfred sighed, and as soon as he could, began to speed out of the venue and back toward Wayne Manor.
Everything was going according to plan, everything was as it should be. Bruce Wayne was a bumbling idiot, the Prince of Gotham, a frat boy trapped in a grown man’s body with enough money to buy God. Batman was the menace of the night, a whisper on the wind of criminals and citizens alike. Bruce Wayne being Batman? That was ridiculous. Bruce doesn't even know his left and right without holding out his fingers and seeing which one makes the shape of an ‘L’. How could he possibly be the swift vigilante using a grappling hook to soundlessly move through the shadows of Gotham in the dead of night? Everything was perfect.
Until one Justice League meeting a few weeks later.
Superman sat to his left at the large, oval table in the largest meeting room on the Watchtower, the JL’s satellite headquarters. The Kryptonian was sharing a look with Wonder Woman that Batman found unnerving. Why were they looking at each other like that? Why did it seem to make Batman’s pulse quicken?
Superman spoke first, “Wonder Woman and I have been discussing a few things that we would like to propose to all of you. I know that we aren't Superheroes every hour of every day; we have lives that we return to. Lives that the rest of us know nothing about. It might be time to change that.”
Wonder Woman nodded. “As it stands, we only know half of what makes up the Justice League, but I believe there are many benefits to revealing our daytime lives to each other. It will help with assigning more specific undercover operations, and in the event of conflicting schedules between your normal life and your super one. I can attest to that happening to me more than once.”
Bruce was not listening anymore; he could barely hear the warrior’s words over the blood rushing in his own ears. This was the worst idea the two of them have ever come up with. All the hard work he put into keeping his personas so separate that their names could not be mentioned in the same room would go down the drain. It was a liability for so many outside people to know the truth. Not to mention…
If they know, what will they think of him then?
Batman was the strategist of the team, the one everyone trusted to have a plan for every and all possible outcomes of any situation ever. Bruce Wayne did not even have a plan to get from one side of the room to the other without nearly killing himself. Batman was capable and quick-thinking. Bruce Wayne couldn't remember the names of the high-society members he associated with at least every three months at a charity gala.
If they know that Bruce Wayne is Batman, would they ever trust him again?
Flash began speaking next, saying something about how he trusts everyone with his life already, and Wonder Woman is spouting off something about becoming even closer as warriors. Bruce occupies himself by reliving every embarrassing thing he has ever done for the sake of his cover.
“What do I… sorry, what was the question?” Brucie laughs like forgetting something he was just told was the funniest thing in the universe. “Oh, chocolate milk being served for school lunches? Sure, I don't see why not, it is just milk after all, no different than regular milk. We all know that milk is good in capsaicin or whatever, good for kids to grow strong bones. Sugar content? Shouldn't be a problem, don't feed the cows so much sugar, and their milk won't be so sugary! Hm? You milk the brown cows to get the chocolate milk, of course, I know where chocolate milk comes from, I'm not an idiot.”
Bruce wanted to crawl inside his suit and pass away. It would have been easier than doing whatever he was doing now.
Cyborg shrugs, mentioning that his secret identity is really already on the table. They all know he's Victor Stone, son of Silas Stone and victim of a horrific accident that rendered him the half-robot he is now. He does admit it would be nice to even the playing field in that regard. The same goes for Aquaman, who is not too worried that his secret identity is known to the team, but admits that he is curious about everyone else.
Green Lantern is waving his hand around, green ring glowing, telling the others that revealing his secret identity would make it a lot easier to plan superhero work around going on dates. Captain Marvel seemed reserved about the whole thing, but Bruce couldn't worry about the feelings of a guy with the powers of the gods; he had his own emotions to sort out!
“I love this song, turn it up-” Brucie swung his hips around like sanity was going out of style. “Oh yeah- These hips do not lie, Shakira!” He cried out and began to twerk his behind up and down as he danced the entire duration of the song, complete with slurred, out-of-tune vocals. He didn't even know all the words, so some of it was just gibberish.
“Batman?” A voice started to snap him back to reality. “B?”
Bruce let his vision focus back to the room in front of him. He flexed his hands on the silver table, just to remind himself it was there, to ground him, bring his mind and body back to where he needed to be. He was lucky the eyes of his suit were whited out, or else everyone would have seen the thousand-mile stare that he had taken up for the past several minutes.
If they knew, they would never take him seriously ever again.
The answer was easy.
“No,” Batman’s deep voice growled from behind his cowl. He turned to look at Superman, who wore a puzzled expression. He was cute when his eyes widened like that, and he looked like he was not expecting that answer at all.
No. Because if he knows, then it is over.
Wonder Woman spoke first, “No? But Batman, this could be-”
“-a disaster if one of us is captured and tortured, or mind controlled. If we all know everyone’s secret identity, then each one of us is at risk of spilling the secrets of the entire Justice League to any villain,” Batman cut off her statement. “It isn't practical.”
Green Lantern leaned forward. “What, Spooky? You don't trust us to take care of ourselves enough to keep that from happening.”
Bruce didn't move his head. “Not in the slightest. But it isn't just us, not just our secrets, but our families will be at risk if anyone were to know who we are under the mask.”
Alfred. Dick. If Joker or Poison Ivy or even fucking Lex Luthor at this point knew his identity, they would be at risk. He would never do that to them.
Green Lantern huffed, “I bet the real reason you don't want to spill is that you're some loser guy who dresses up like a bat for fun. Come on, you didn't deny me when I asked if that's what you were! Just some guy in a Bat costume!”
“That's all you need to know about me,” Bruce assured. “Promise. I would highly advise against sharing your identities among yourselves, but truly, I cannot stop you. I am just letting you know I will not be taking part. If that is all that is left to discuss, I am dismissing myself from the meeting.”
Bruce hardly felt his own legs carry him from his seat and out the door. He was nearly at the zeta tubes, ready to teleport himself back home, back to Gotham City, when he heard footsteps behind him. Too light for the weight that was being carried in a familiar, wide stride pattern.
“B, wait!” Superman called after him, and because it's Superman, Bruce stopped. He turned with just his head to look at the other hero.
Superman in all his muscled glory, his curly hair and square, chiseled face. His primary colored suit left little to the imagination with how it basically defined each of his pecs, every line of his abs, and those blue trunks did little to hide the bulge in his pants. It was hard enough to look at Superman on a normal day, much less when he was purposefully trying to be adorable and innocent.
“B, you bring up valid concerns with the identity thing. I totally understand you,” the alien said hurriedly. “But if you want, we could just exchange our identities. You know- so that we can cover each other if there is an emergency and you can't suit up! If you need help in Got-”
“Stay out of Gotham,” Bruce snapped, repeating the words he had told Superman multiple times before. If that man was in Gotham more than he had to be, Bruce would never have an ounce of goddamn focus.
If you know… Bruce turned his head away from the alien, who was giving the same puppy dog eyes that Dick often did when he wanted something really badly. If you know, you won’t like what you see.
It was better that Superman never knew. It was easier to keep him at arm’s length, to maintain a friendship, and admire from afar. Honestly, it was a miracle the Kryptonian had not taken it into his own hands and used X-ray vision to snoop his face under the cowl. He was too honorable for that.
“It's too big of a security risk,” Bruce reiterated. “I won't put my family at risk for your pipe dreams. I wouldn't expect you to for me. I'll see you at the next meeting.”
He doesn't wait for a response as he crosses the remaining distance to the zeta tubes.
Batman A-02.
It did not take long for Bruce to catch snippets of everyone’s secret identities here and there. Green Lantern was very open about the fact that he was an Air Force pilot named Hal Jordan, even when Batman was around. Wonder Woman preferred to be called Diana and asked Batman if he would at least humor her with that. He obliged, of course. After that, Flash started asking Bruce to call him Barry. He obliged that too, but never once offered up his name in return. Bruce was a name heavily associated with Gotham, and for all the reasons that Batman wanted to avoid.
There was some drama following the reveal that Captain Marvel was actually a 10-year-old kid who could transform into an adult by yelling “Shazam!”. Bruce did not know the exact details until now, but he always knew something like that was possible with the hero. After all, he would slip up sometimes and mention ‘homework’ or ‘school’. It did not take a detective to figure out something was up.
But then there was Clark.
Diana called him by that name without a care in the world, and at first Superman glanced at Batman nervously, before the latter waved him off like it was okay. Superman looked like he wanted to explode from happiness the first time Bruce referred to him as ‘Clark’.
Not much else changed other than that. Everyone uses their code names in the field, and their first names when they were in private. Everyone called Bruce “Batman,”, and that was just the way he wanted it.
The atmosphere around the Watchtower became a lot more relaxed, with members of the JL using the lounging areas more often. They would read or use their cell phones to text or perform other possibly identity-risking activities. There was nothing Bruce could do about it other than sharply remind them of the risks and get told he was being too stingy. He did not pay much mind, even when he could see Superman smiling at his laptop screen and messaging something to someone Bruce couldn't see.
Maybe it was someone Clark cared about. Bruce knew that he had an ex-wife, his coworker Lois Lane, with whom he still had a good friendship, but had no other intel on relationships other than that. There was no telling whether or not the man would even be interested in affection from another man.
It was not until one evening that the use of social media among the other members of the Justice League became a problem. Batman was on the Watchtower, working on a fear toxin resistance pill. Something he could take slowly that wouldn't hurt him but also wouldn't require him to inject himself with an antidote each time he was doused with the stuff. Scarecrow was still gatekeeping the toxin, but Batman feared the day he would begin sharing with the other villains. Just Gotham things.
On a break, Bruce found himself in the lounge at the Keurig. He hesitated entering when he saw a few members of the JL sitting there, notably Superman with a laptop at a table, and Flash eating cereal with no milk from the box like an animal.
“Hey, Bats!” Barry called as Bruce got set up at the coffee maker, then in an instant, the speedster was at his side. He was holding a small cell phone out with a video covered with a large paused icon. “You have got to tell me what the deal with Bruce Wayne is. I know you patrol at night or whatever, but you've seen this guy, right?”
Bruce had to sigh and hope it sounded exasperated enough to hide the stutter in his breathing. “There’s nothing I know about Bruce Wayne that you can't already find online,” he said, trying to sound bored as he picked up a hazelnut coffee K-cup and clicked it into the machine.
“I mean, yeah, but like, have you seen the shit he does?” Flash pushed play on the video, and Bruce felt his heart rate spike briefly as he looked at the screen.
There, on the tiny phone screen, was Bruce, secretly completely sober, using a pillar in a nightclub like an oversized pole and dancing on it in nothing but his boxers. Someone in the crowd yelled, “Get it, Mr. Wayne!!” Bruce threw up one leg on the pillar and ground himself against it, his other hand on his chest dramatically. Dollar bills were flying at him, and that is where Barry lost it, laughing.
“They're throwing money at him, at Bruce Wayne,” Flash giggled as the short video ended and asked if he wanted to replay it. “For real, Bats. He's more of a crime to the Gotham nightlife than the actual villains, isn't he?”
Bruce willed his heart to calm down and mustered just a shrug. “As long as he isn't causing trouble in the streets, I don't really care what he does.”
“Coooold.” Barry sped back to Superman. “Tell me this is what you're writing about. You have to write about this-!”
Superman, for what it's worth, averted his eyes once he saw how much skin was exposed in that video. “Barry, please.”
“Tch, fine. I'm going to go show Hal,” the speedster announced, and in a flash, put up his cereal and was gone.
Bruce could not believe that he had just watched a ridiculous video of himself in the middle of the lounge on the Watchtower. These lines of work were separate for a reason. Maybe he had to tone it back? Be less newsworthy. New plan: Be ditzy, not filmable.
The man grabbed his now finished coffee and turned, seeing Superman looking at him instead of his laptop, his cheeks dusted pink. It wasn't hard to imagine Superman being easily flustered by a video like that.
The alien met Bruce’s gaze, then quickly looked away and put his finger back on the trackpad of his laptop, moving his mouse aimlessly around his screen. “Bruce Wayne does a lot of good for Gotham, too. It makes you wonder if the elaborate showcases of irresponsibility are just a cover-up. But why wouldn't he want his more noble activities broadcast? What are your thoughts? …Batman?”
But Bruce was already leaving by the time Superman looked up, coffee in hand, not wanting to discuss Brucie Wayne with Superman of all people.
Clark
There was no way, but then again, Clark’s senses hardly ever failed him. He heard it; Batman’s heart rate when Barry brought up that video of Bruce Wayne. Sure, the glimpse he got of Gotham’s most eligible billionaire did show a scandalous amount of skin, but most videos of him did. Clark was no stranger to the hit news of the week from Gotham as it cycled around the office like a dirty magazine in the hands of a bunch of high schoolers. The video was not abnormal; it was Batman’s reaction that caught him off guard.
Clark did not study Batman’s heart rate, but he was acutely aware of the fact that it rarely spiked high above 70 when he was in the Watchtower. Sometimes when the man was simply sitting, it went as low as 50. Focusing on heart rates took a lot of effort, and in a crowd, listening to one single heartbeat could be overwhelming, so he had learned how to tune them out unless there was a quick change, or if he was assessing responses for signs of lying. Batman never had quick changes outside of physical exertion in the field, not even during arguments in meetings.
So why did it climb to roughly 105 for a few moments while those lens-covered eyes were turned toward Barry’s phone?
There was no way that Batman was flustered by that video; he was always so serious, acknowledging things with nods and shakes of his head, or grunts of approval, disapproval, or contemplation. He’d gotten more vocal in the years they had worked together, but he still had a mysterious air about him, like a secret lockbox. So much emotion, even if it was not noticeable to the naked eye, that was unlike Batman.
Maybe Batman knew more about Bruce Wayne than he let on. That was entirely possible; they were the two most common names in Gotham after all, but for two completely different reasons. Batman has seen skin before, plenty of times on victims or other League members; maybe he just was not used to the promiscuous manner in which the skin was presented.
Or… there was no way that Batman had a crush on Bruce Wayne.
But the Caped Crusader was quick to leave the lounge after the whole incident, not even engaging in the question. Conspiracy theories were kind of Batman’s thing; to be so blatantly ignored was a red flag. He was hoping to glean some of Batman’s thoughts about Bruce, but it appeared that Batman truly had nothing to say. Not to Barry. Not to him.
This information was monumental for multiple reasons. Was Batman in a relationship? Was he taken? The thought of what Batman did when he left the Watchtower always intrigued Clark, but the idea of the other hero having a civilian identity felt ridiculous. How could someone like Batman just return home and be a normal guy you might pass in the café? Then again, the same thing could be said about Superman, about any of them.
More important than whether or not Batman was taken was whether or not he was taken by a man. The man under the cowl was always so reclusive that it was hard to get a read on him in general, much less his love life or his preferences. It would have been easier to believe that Batman loved no one but his city, the night, and sweet justice than another living person.
Maybe that was why Clark was so drawn to him from the beginning. Batman was a book that had never been opened, a song that had never been sung, a poem that had never been read. The thought of actually approaching Batman with the confession of this crush was scarier than a nightmare. What if Batman didn’t like men? What if he was put off by Clark’s advances? What if it changed their entire working dynamic forever, until it eventually just broke apart into dust? There was no risking that.
Maybe he should talk to someone about this to get some validation for his rampant ideas.
Wonder Woman was not well-versed in relationship issues, but she was the most trustworthy person on the team and the most likely to keep a secret. Still, her methods were always straightforward, and she did not like to beat around the bush.
“Diana, it makes so much sense the more I think about it. Where does Batman get the money to fund all his gear? The Watchtower? What if he doesn't want to reveal his identity in case it starts to tie him back to Bruce Wayne?” Clark paced back and forth behind the woman as she sat perched in front of a large set of multiple screens.
Some of the screens showed hallways of the Watchtower, another showed the entrance to the Hall of Justice, and multiple others flipped through satellite images of random cities, assessing for threats that may require Justice League intervention. A prime example of how much money was spent on putting this place together.
Diana humored Clark with a response, “Who is Wayne in a relationship with, then?”
“No one! That's the problem- they probably have to keep it a secret so that no one can make a connection between them! They're so different, I mean, have you seen half of the stuff Wayne does on a monthly basis? He flirts with anything that moves. He was grinding on a pillar!” Clark threw up his arms.
Diana turned her head slightly to look back at Clark. “And you think that Batman is… dating this man? They sound like opposites.”
“That's the other thing; when you look past all of the nude videos and crazy interviews, Wayne actually does a lot of good for Gotham. I found a few videos of him preaching about how much he loves his city and will do everything he can to fund the right operations to make it a better place. You know who else protects Gotham with his whole being? Batman!” Clark was trying not to sound like he had put all the red strings together on a corkboard, but golly, he felt like he'd done it. He'd cracked the code. “They could be dating, they could be married, they could be friends with benefits, I don't know, but they have to be connected somehow.”
Clark’s captive audience tried her best to seem invested. “Perhaps he is keeping his identity and their relationship a secret for his safety and the safety of Mr. Wayne. We respected his decision not to reveal his identity at the League meeting; we should continue to uphold that trust.”
Superman put both hands on the back of Diana’s chair. “So what you're saying is that it seems plausible, right? Does this logic make sense?”
“Whether or not Batman is in a relationship with Bruce Wayne is none of our concern,” Diana responded, tilting her head back and crossing her arms. “You're starting to sound like Barry.”
Clark let go of the chair. It hurt to imagine Batman in a relationship, happy, when Clark never even mentioned his feelings for the man. He knew that was his own fault, though, not the fault of the one he loved. “Sorry. No, you're right, it really isn't my place. I mean, if Batman is in a relationship with Bruce Wayne, then we should be happy for him, right?”
It was too late when he finished his sentence and saw Flash and Green Lantern standing in the doorway, likely to take over for the next watch shift. They all stared at each other for a few moments before the red-clad hero deadpanned. “Who is in a relationship with who now?”
Bruce
Bruce felt like something was off among the League in the following week. It was like a rumor had spread like wildfire, but had not reached his ears yet. This was strange; the rumors never escaped his eavesdropping and League members’ careless spewing of information while they were aboard the Watchtower. For a man with a lot of them, he did not care for secrets, but he was a goddamn detective, and he would figure out what was going on with everyone sooner or later.
Just like with finding out everyone’s secret identities, it did not take Batman long to figure out that the rumors were about him. He'd walked in on Cyborg and Captain Marvel having a hushed conversation about something, and saw them clam up really quickly when he entered. They changed the subject, talking about football. Aquaman and Green Lantern had done the same. When he had overheard a conversation between Superman and Flash that dared to utter a syllable that sounded suspiciously like Bruce before Barry shoved a donut into his mouth with a signal from Clark’s hand to stop talking.
Conversations with the other League members felt like they had questions to ask, something on the tip of their tongues that they were holding back with an immense amount of self-control. Everyone except for Diana, who treated him the same as always. During a sound off with Superman, the Kryptonian couldn't meet his cowled gaze. Clark never had any trouble staring him in the white lenses, usually staring him down with a challenge that only the superpowered man could offer. Instead of Clark trailing after him, the man was quick to leave any conversation.
That hurt.
That hurt more than Bruce realized it would.
What was going on with the Justice League?
Of course, Bruce’s mind swam with all the worst possibilities. He thought back to when this all started and locked down on one very crucial detail. The night Flash showed him the video of Bruce Wayne. How had he reacted? Did he give away more info than he meant to? Flash was smart, but he was too busy laughing at that video to notice any minute changes, right?
But then there was Superman.
Looking away from the video didn’t mean the man wasn’t paying any attention. Was this some kind of test on a hunch they already had? To see if Batman would react to a video of himself acting completely and entirely ridiculous? Was his secret already given away? If it was, if they all knew who he truly was, then why not say anything? Were they waiting for him to slip up and make a mistake so that they could call him out on it?
Was this why Clark couldn’t look at him? Did Superman know his identity and was disgusted by his actions?
Way too many thoughts and questions bounced around Bruce’s head, giving him a headache and a heartache. Maybe no one knew yet for sure, and his secret was still safe for now. Maybe he should find out what everyone knows, and he knew just the person he could interrogate for information.
Interrogating Clark actually wasn’t too difficult, not when the man was always so open and ready to talk. Too open, maybe. It was after a mission, simple recon work for the League, when Batman and Superman were in the Watchtower alone together, and Bruce found his opportunity to strike.
“You wanted to talk about Bruce Wayne before,” Bruce recalled casually, thinking of how Superman once tried to open this topic of conversation. He realized with a start just how on the money Superman was with his assumptions. Guess that’s what you can expect from Clark Kent, Daily Planet reporter.
The reporter stopped in his tracks, unmoving, not even breathing as far as Bruce could tell. He slowly turned, facing the dark-suited vigilante. He'd been so avoidant lately that even this amount of attention looked painful for him. “Um, yes! I remember. It was bad timing, I understand, with what Flash was showing on his cell phone. But I do think there is something more to the man than he lets on… How well do you know him?”
Batman pondered for a moment, then said evenly, “I know him well enough. What is your opinion of him?”
Maybe if he could get a true opinion from Supes, he could decide on a scale of 0 to 1000 how disastrous it would be if the whole secret were to fly wide open. There was something scandalous about using the mask to ask for your crush’s opinion on you, though- he recognized that and let it go. This was important.
Superman looked oddly…. strangled. Like he was facing down the largest kryptonite mountain known to alienkind. It was an unusual look for him. When he spoke, he was hesitant. “As I said, I don’t think all that galavanting around is his true personality. I mean, he’s a successful businessman and a loving father. There’s no way he thinks milk comes from brown cows.”
Oh, so you saw that- Bruce just nodded. “Do you think he’s hiding his intelligence for good or for evil?”
Superman suddenly stiffened, standing tall and imposing, and all those other attractive features that made Bruce want to reach out and run his hand across his abs. Now was not the time.
“Why? Do you have a tip? Any intel? Do you think he’s plotting against you, against the Justice League?” The red and blue-clad hero asked hurriedly, like he might go down there and shake down ol’ Brucie Wayne himself if given a reason to.
“No,” Bruce answered simply. “It’s just… a thought.”
Superman relaxed. “Sorry. I don’t mean to instantly think poorly of him. I just worry about things like this.”
“Things like…. Bruce Wayne?” Batman asked cautiously. What had Superman so up in arms about the whole thing?
The hero shrugged, stretching one muscular arm that Batman had to keep himself from staring at, from tracing every angle that he had already memorized. “Well, yeah. I mean, I don’t want to get into it too much, I know you like your privacy and whatnot. Just know you can come to me with anything! I’m not too good at relationship advice, but I know a thing or two about billionaires.”
Bruce raised an eyebrow, even though it all looked the same to Clark. “You’re comparing Bruce Wayne to Lex Luthor?” Wait a second, relationship advice?
“No! Well- yes- ah, gosh darn it, I’m sorry,” Superman sighed. He tipped his head. “No one else is in hearing range right now on the Watchtower, and I just need to know for my own peace of mind, uh…”
This was it. Bruce took in a breath.
“Are you dating Bruce Wayne?”
The world seemed to slow down, and the vigilante was not even sure where to begin to unpack that statement. Was he… was he dating Bruce Wayne?
Superman took the silence to try to fix himself. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t assume anyone’s sexuality. But I mean, I don’t know a lot about you at all, and it just seems like you got a little worked up over seeing that video the other day, and your heart rate elevated way out of your normal range, so I got to thinking, and I landed on the theory that you are dating Bruce Wayne. Which is great! As I said, he’s a successful businessman, he’s got a nice kid-”
“Superman.”
“-and if you can keep it on the down low, then I can definitely see the appeal of dating a billionaire, as long as he isn’t an egotistical maniac. You can tell me if he is by the way. If you need help with him anytime, I can be there! I can be like the scary dog privilege! I can even give him the shovel talk if you-”
Bruce walked over and put a hand on the House of El crest on Superman’s chest. “Clark. I am not dating Bruce Wayne.”
Superman seemed to short-circuit. “Oh. Uh… Ah. I see.”
What on Earth was going on?
“That’s the best theory you could come up with? Wait, is that what the rest of the Justice League has been whispering about this past week?” Batman demanded.
Superman looked sheepish. “Yeah, I can tell everyone to debunk that theory if you want.”
Batman stared for three seconds too long, letting his mind float through dozens of potential replies. He settled on one of the more unhinged questions, but it would give him an answer to a burning question he has had for a long time. “Would you date Bruce Wayne?”
Superman was full deer in the headlights now, blushing and rubbing his neck like he was a schoolboy. “I mean, I don’t know him very well. I am not good at the talking to people thing, not since my divorce. He seems like a cool guy, but I get wary of the billionaire types.
Bruce noted one thing from that answer. Clark did not instantly deny a relationship with a man. He didn’t know what had come over him; he should have left it at that and gone home with all his secrets still intact. “What if you could get to know him better?”
Great, now Superman was suspicious. “Why? Batman, what is this about? You’re giving mixed signals. Do you need me to go on some secret mission? I will. You don’t even have to tell me all the details. If you need me for something, all you need to do is ask. You know I’ll follow you anywhere.”
Those words did it for Bruce. All his years of pining and wondering and secret, stolen glances, and Shakira, and brown cows.
“You said no one else is within hearing range on this Watchtower?” Bruce asked suddenly.
Superman nodded dutifully. “Whatever you say here can stay between us. If there’s a danger-”
Bruce grabbed the front of his mask and pulled it down, feeling the fabric lift off the back of his neck, exposing the warm skin to the cool air of the Watchtower. He shook out his hair and opened those brilliant blue eyes, meeting Superman’s, no, Clark Kent’s, shocked expression. Clark’s eyes were also blue, but a lighter shade, charged by years of sunlight. They held an inhuman glow to them, and Bruce thought they were beautiful.
His heart was pounding. If Clark thought his rate was abnormal before, it was critically out of range now. He could hear the blood rushing through his ears as the other man stood there, staring, unable to formulate a word. Bruce could hardly stand being gawked at and wondered if this was all a severe miscalculation. All those fears rose, despite what Clark has said about Bruce Wayne already, about being more than meets the eye. Would the superpowered man think him unfit to be a leader of the Justice League?
Still silent, Bruce gripped the cowl harder in his hand, thinking about all those times he played dumb for the camera. All the times Clark apparently saw. Curse his occupation, keeping him in the know of current events, in the loop of happenings with the upper class of Metropolis and Gotham. He was growing lost in his thoughts now. Could he wipe Superman’s memory? Maybe bribe him into keeping this entire thing a secret.
“So, you're not dating Bruce Wayne?” Came a somewhat small, shy question.
Clark
As soon as the question left his mouth, Clark knew that it was a ridiculous thing to ask. Bruce Wayne was standing right in front of him, those eyes fixed on him, wearing Batman’s logo. Holding Batman’s cowl. His cowl. Bruce Wayne is Batman. But that did not change the fact that he was acting really strangely, like he was going in circles, trying to uncover an answer to a question Clark did not understand. He was so ready to be Batman’s wingman, to support him in his relationship, to let him know that he was happy as long as everything was safe, even if it meant losing his crush in the long run. Even if Clark was sad that it wasn't him who was the object of Batman’s affection. Even if just talking to the man was difficult most days, like Superman was afraid of slipping up and making his feelings known.
Clark did not expect the identity reveal, however, and was even more surprised to see who was under that mask. It made everything confusing, but it also made a lot of things make sense. The unease the reporter always got, the feeling that Mr. Wayne was always faking his airheadedness, that he was not just living on cloud nine 24/7.
When Bruce fixed a stare on him and simply said, “Obviously,” in the most Batman way possible, Clark knew that what he was seeing was the truth.
A fire burned inside of Clark, hotter than the yellow sun that fueled him. Batman is Bruce Wayne. Which meant… “So all those publicity stunts, they are just for show then? But why?”
The death grip that Bruce was holding on the cowl loosened, as if he was relieved that this was the first question he was asked. “The less people can connect Batman with Gotham’s most eligible bachelor, the better, for the safety of my family. But then it got out of hand when you all wanted to share identities, because how could I share with you all the persona I had created for myself outside of the suit? If you knew, how would you be able to take me seriously then?”
It was all a part of an elaborate plan because Bruce cared so much for his family and for his city that he was willing to sacrifice himself in the process to protect them.
Bruce continued before Clark could reply, in that self-sabotaging, spiraling way that he always did. “How can I expect you to take me seriously knowing that you think I believe chocolate milk comes from brown cows?”
“You know I don’t believe that-” the Kryptonian snapped out quickly. “I knew it was all a hoax, a ruse, I just had no idea why. But knowing that it’s to protect your family, I think it’s incredibly noble. I know how much of a master strategist you are, but this shows me just how far you’re willing to go, and I admire the heck out of it, Bruce.”
Bruce looked shocked, his body jolting, as Clark used his civilian name for the first time. He looked away, and that heart rate began to tick back up again, faster and faster. There was a blush on Bruce’s pale cheeks that he tried to hide by clearing his throat into his fist, but Clark already noticed.
“Do you like it when I call you Bruce?” Clark asked softly. “Because, if you don’t think you’re ready for the rest of the Justice League to know, then I can keep your secret, but I can call you Bruce when it’s just us.”
The offer felt surprisingly intimate, but Clark couldn’t help but want to get closer to the man he'd been pining after for years. Bruce answered with a very Batman-like hum that Superman knew to be a noise of affirmation. He liked the idea but did not want to admit it out loud.
Then there was that question. Would you date Bruce Wayne?
It was more than just a tease, or a hypothetical; it was a probe, an outreach. Clark loved Batman, and if Bruce Wayne really was the same person, then the answer was clear.
“Yes, by the way,” Clark said, getting Bruce’s attention back from where the man had retreated into his own thoughts. Likely ideas about wiping memories and bribing to keep the secret safe between them. “I would date Bruce Wayne if I got to know him better. But if I’m being honest, I think I know him a lot better than I thought I did, and I really like what I know of him so far.”
Bruce eyed him warily. “You're crazy. There's no way you actually think that. You can be honest with me, I can take it.” But that look deep in his eyes that Clark was sure only he could notice screamed the opposite. There was something in there that looked like hope. “Bruce Wayne is Gotham’s lovable idiot, the way I've made him to be. I don't believe for a second that you can accept the fact that he isn't so easily.”
The use of the third person in Bruce's words did not fall on deaf ears, and it made Clark wonder which of the personalities was truly the mask. “I'm not! I'm serious. Listen, if you want the whole truth, I was jealous of Bruce Wayne because he got to have you. I thought maybe he acted the way he did to keep you both safe. I know that he has a heart of gold and a passion for his city, just like you do. I know that he cares deeply about his family, and that he would go to any length to make sure they don't get hurt because he's already lost so much. I thought you were perfect for each other; it made so much sense that Batman was dating Bruce Wayne. I just never considered that Batman could be Bruce Wayne.”
Bruce’s eyes were wide. It made Clark wonder just how much emotion the man showed under that mask, where no one could see him. How human he truly was, even when no one was looking. “You were jealous? Is that why you've been acting strangely all week?”
Clark blushed, bouncing on his feet as his body threatened to hover nervously. “I always knew there was a chance you were taken, that you had a thriving life and a family outside of all this,” he gestured to the metal of the Watchtower around them. “But when I was certain you were actually off the market? I felt so jealous, and I didn't want to seem that way, and I didn't know what to do, so I've just been avoiding confrontation. I'm sorry, B.”
Then he had a thought. “Oh shoot, I'm sorry, I never even asked if you were still single. If I'm making you uncomfortable, you can just tell me-” he started that nervous hovering he was trying to keep at bay, his feet lifting off the ground. “If you're in a relationship, I won’t tell anyone! You can forget what I said! I promise, you can count on me. I'll be happy for you no matter what.”
Stupid. He felt like a fool for letting so much of his feelings slip out. He was so relieved that Batman wasn't dating Bruce Wayne that he failed to consider that the latter flirts with anything that moves. Wayne didn't have a public lover, but that was risky with billionaires anyway. He might have a crush on someone else, and Clark just said he was jealous and that was basically a love confession and-
There was a pressure on his chest again, Bruce’s hand placed there just like he had earlier. Slowly, his feet touched the floor again.
Bruce’s tone was so like his usual Batman self, but different still. Softer, more human. “I’m not in a secret relationship with myself or anyone else, currently. My mind has been occupied with someone.”
Clark managed a wobbly smile. “Oh- right, of course. I won’t press you for more. I’m honored that you’ve shared even this much with me.” He has a crush. Of course, he does; he is Bruce flipping Wayne.
But Bruce continued to stare, then took in a breath, and said, “My thoughts have been dead set on a certain Kryptonian that I thought would hate me if he saw who I truly was. Who would dismantle me from the Justice League leadership- hell, maybe remove me from the League altogether. I thought maybe he would have too hard of a time trusting Bruce Wayne with the power to protect the universe.”
Clark’s hands were instantly holding Bruce’s. The meaning in the words didn't fall short, in Batman language, that felt like a love confession in return, buried under years of insecurity. “What? When would I have ever given you a reason to believe that! B- you’re- ugh.” He looked down at their joined hands, and he squeezed gently. “I’ve always loved that you overthink things like that. You’re so overly cautious, so of course you would make a plan like this… Don’t you ever think maybe you were going overboard?”
Bruce was not pulling his hands away, and answered too literally with, “Not until recently. Not until I saw the way you looked at that phone in Flash’s hands and thought that I was the biggest dumbass in the world. That if word of Bruce Wayne’s antics were reaching the ears of the Justice League, that I’d gone too far.”
“For what it’s worth, I would have never made the connection,” Clark said earnestly. “But I would have continued to be jealous.”
Bruce glanced away, then back, looking a little more relaxed. “I should hope that Superman is above playing with someone’s feelings, right?”
“I would never joke around with something like this. My opinion of you would be the same no matter who you are under that mask, because I fell in love with Batman years ago. I fell in love with your heart of gold, your wit, and the mysterious air you have about you. I know the image you have created of yourself in public, but more importantly, I know you. If I can fall in love with you under a mask, it would not be hard to fall in love with you outside of a mask.”
Bruce was silent for a few moments, then said, “I fell in love with Superman years ago. I was nervous of you at first, but I realized that you really are just someone who wants to help people, even if you get nothing in return. Deep down, we aren't all that different, are we?”
Clark’s smile was so warm, daring to put his arms around the Batman suit, his fingers touching the small of the other man's back. “No, I suppose we aren't.”
Bruce seemed to like the embrace, resting his own arms on Clark’s large biceps. He let out an exaggerated sigh, “I guess I could get to know Clark Kent a little better. I hear he’s some stuck-up reporter.”
“What?! Who said that! I am not- B? You’re making that up, right?” Clark asked, sounding panicked.
Bruce finally laughed, a sound that had rarely been heard from Batman. It was nice. They were similar in height, so Bruce was able to gently press his forehead against Clark’s in a small, intimate movement. “Well, get cleaned up and meet me back here. We can head to Wayne Manor for coffee, and maybe I’ll tell you whether or not I’m making it up.”