Fic: A Certain Thought that Lingers - (12/20) (Clark/Bruce)
Title: A Certain Thought that Lingers
Pairing: Superman/Batman
Rating: R
Verse: DCU/DCAU
Word Count: 13,439
Summary: The decision to use a telepathic link to allow the Justice League to communicate during battle backfires, creating a special bond between Superman and Batman. Batman finds the situation...unbearable.
XII.
The next few weeks were occupied with the provisioning of the Watchtower to prepare the orbital facility to go fully operational. Batman was scarce, as he was fully occupied with the final on-site testing in his costumed persona, and was also behind the scenes covering the money trail to WayneTech as a civilian. Clark very much appreciated the respite from the tension. He was able to settle the team down and allay Kyle’s fear of being bumped off the team without Batman’s antagonistic presence fighting him at every turn.
Two days before the official power up of all systems, however, a pervasive sense of loneliness assaulted him, as he was sitting at his desk at The Daily Planet. The feeling was so keen, so resigned…so absolute, it brought tears to his eyes.
Clark took half the day off from work, changed into his costume and flew into space.
He found Batman in the forward section of the Watchtower, in the main monitor room, on his back with his head underneath an electronic console. As he approached, Batman pulled away from what he was doing and sat up. Clark saw that he was out of costume, and dirty, and his hair was messy and had fallen into his eyes. The sight was enough to take his breath away.
Clark held out a hand. Bruce stared at it a moment before taking it and allowing Clark to pull him to his feet. It was a small thing to keep pulling until Bruce was within the circle of his arms.
“What are you doing here?” Bruce said. His voice was gruff, dry and disused, and Clark wondered whether there was even any food or water on the station yet, or whether Bruce had simply been working too hard to check.
Clark answered carefully, but shortly. He wanted to say the right thing, but he also wanted to skip the words. With Bruce in his arms-
“I thought you might want some company.”
Then they were kissing, like they had never been fighting, like kissing each other was all they ever did or ever wanted to do. The t-shirt and jeans-so unlike the inaccessibility of the Batsuit-enabled Clark’s hands to roam, to find a way underneath and across skin, until they were both breathing hard and had to pull away. Clark could see it in Bruce’s eyes-the war within that demanded he stop this now; that it was a worthless distraction with no future, only a downward spiral of dependency. If only this time he could find the right thing to say…
“She’s beautiful, Bruce. From the plans-I didn’t realize how impressive it would all be. Is that…the defense grid?”
And just like that, he was past the first hurdle, because Bruce did love his toys, and there was apparently no end to the time he would spend talking about the tech schema he had put in place for his team to be successful and to protect his planet. Alone in this place, there seemed no reason for them to fight. They toured the entire facility, and Bruce explained every redundancy and failsafe in detail, and the way he didn’t pause or make concessions told Clark more than any blunt statement that he respected Clark’s extraordinary intelligence and was well aware that his recall was eidetic.
Clark didn’t dare touch Bruce again-having his companionship and hearing his voice not raised in anger was enough-but when they ended their tour in the hanger bay, and it was clear Bruce felt their time together had come to an end, Clark couldn’t help wishing they could be stuck on the Watchtower like this, alone in space.
“I guess I had better go,” Clark said.
Bruce nodded, hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I have to get back to work.”
“When are you-coming back?”
“When I finish. We go fully operational in two days and I have a lot to do.”
“You don’t want…company?”
There was a small upturn at the corner of his mouth, a bit of a wry tone. “I work better alone.”
Clark turned to leave.
“Superman.”
He stopped, turned around. Bruce’s startling blue eyes were serious, determined.
“This changes nothing.”
Clark smiled, and if his smile was a bit wistful, it was only just. “I know,” he said. And he didn’t care. This would be a day that would linger in his heart, in his mind, long after everything else had returned to normal.
Pairing: Superman/Batman
Rating: R
Verse: DCU/DCAU
Word Count: 13,439
Summary: The decision to use a telepathic link to allow the Justice League to communicate during battle backfires, creating a special bond between Superman and Batman. Batman finds the situation...unbearable.
XII.
The next few weeks were occupied with the provisioning of the Watchtower to prepare the orbital facility to go fully operational. Batman was scarce, as he was fully occupied with the final on-site testing in his costumed persona, and was also behind the scenes covering the money trail to WayneTech as a civilian. Clark very much appreciated the respite from the tension. He was able to settle the team down and allay Kyle’s fear of being bumped off the team without Batman’s antagonistic presence fighting him at every turn.
Two days before the official power up of all systems, however, a pervasive sense of loneliness assaulted him, as he was sitting at his desk at The Daily Planet. The feeling was so keen, so resigned…so absolute, it brought tears to his eyes.
Clark took half the day off from work, changed into his costume and flew into space.
He found Batman in the forward section of the Watchtower, in the main monitor room, on his back with his head underneath an electronic console. As he approached, Batman pulled away from what he was doing and sat up. Clark saw that he was out of costume, and dirty, and his hair was messy and had fallen into his eyes. The sight was enough to take his breath away.
Clark held out a hand. Bruce stared at it a moment before taking it and allowing Clark to pull him to his feet. It was a small thing to keep pulling until Bruce was within the circle of his arms.
“What are you doing here?” Bruce said. His voice was gruff, dry and disused, and Clark wondered whether there was even any food or water on the station yet, or whether Bruce had simply been working too hard to check.
Clark answered carefully, but shortly. He wanted to say the right thing, but he also wanted to skip the words. With Bruce in his arms-
“I thought you might want some company.”
Then they were kissing, like they had never been fighting, like kissing each other was all they ever did or ever wanted to do. The t-shirt and jeans-so unlike the inaccessibility of the Batsuit-enabled Clark’s hands to roam, to find a way underneath and across skin, until they were both breathing hard and had to pull away. Clark could see it in Bruce’s eyes-the war within that demanded he stop this now; that it was a worthless distraction with no future, only a downward spiral of dependency. If only this time he could find the right thing to say…
“She’s beautiful, Bruce. From the plans-I didn’t realize how impressive it would all be. Is that…the defense grid?”
And just like that, he was past the first hurdle, because Bruce did love his toys, and there was apparently no end to the time he would spend talking about the tech schema he had put in place for his team to be successful and to protect his planet. Alone in this place, there seemed no reason for them to fight. They toured the entire facility, and Bruce explained every redundancy and failsafe in detail, and the way he didn’t pause or make concessions told Clark more than any blunt statement that he respected Clark’s extraordinary intelligence and was well aware that his recall was eidetic.
Clark didn’t dare touch Bruce again-having his companionship and hearing his voice not raised in anger was enough-but when they ended their tour in the hanger bay, and it was clear Bruce felt their time together had come to an end, Clark couldn’t help wishing they could be stuck on the Watchtower like this, alone in space.
“I guess I had better go,” Clark said.
Bruce nodded, hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I have to get back to work.”
“When are you-coming back?”
“When I finish. We go fully operational in two days and I have a lot to do.”
“You don’t want…company?”
There was a small upturn at the corner of his mouth, a bit of a wry tone. “I work better alone.”
Clark turned to leave.
“Superman.”
He stopped, turned around. Bruce’s startling blue eyes were serious, determined.
“This changes nothing.”
Clark smiled, and if his smile was a bit wistful, it was only just. “I know,” he said. And he didn’t care. This would be a day that would linger in his heart, in his mind, long after everything else had returned to normal.