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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
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2,077
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1/1
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14
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1,141

Birthdays

Summary:

Permission to archive: Yes
Fandom(s): Superman/Batman
Genre: Slash
Pairing/Characters: Superman/Batman, Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Rating: FRT-13
Summary: On your special day you don't get to be alone. And if Batman has anything to say about it, not even the Man of Steel.
Warnings: None.
Notes: I posted this story in my livejournal first so click here for this version of Birthdays.
Acknowledgments: For editing, even though she was busy she was kind enough to clean up my mess and make it into piece that I can show to public viewing. Thanks Mina.
Submitted through the Batman_And_Superman mailing list.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Birthdays
by Sam Emme

The usually heavy footsteps were oddly light as each foot gripped the icy floor of the Fortress. However, to Superman's ears they were as loud as syncopated drumming. Well, not so much, but he heard them very clearly and knowing he had allowed access to this home to only a few people, it wasn't hard to figured out the one who wouldn't comply with his wishes to be left alone for a little while.

The other arrived, entering the main hall; he was darkness surrounded in the light of Kal-El's home. He wasn't surprised to find Clark standing there, watching at what was before him. "Why are you here, Superman?"

He turned from watching the images and stars in the sky to look over his shoulder. Batman just stood there waiting and it seemed to him that this was a man who needed to be announced, otherwise you just wondered what was the dark shadow that slowly crept, an almost languor into those spaces of any room he moved into until it or he was just there. The others felt the oddity of Batman's presence but could not grasp the reason behind it.

Here in the Fortress, among the crystalline living connected ice was where Batman seemed to glow, the grays and blacks of his suit became glossier and the cape flowing slowly behind him in the circulating air. Superman thought to himself, 'Batman looks lovely, it's probably from the winter wear line,' and pressed his lips together to stop himself from saying it out loud. That man must had a suit for every occasion.

Clark realized, to his unease, that Bruce was still waiting for a response.

"I just needed time away Bruce, you can understand that."

Walking around and touching the edges of the jagged walls, Bruce responded. "Yes, but when you leave in the middle of your birthday party, well the first organized one they accomplished to get together and wish you joy, well people tend to notice."

"You mean you noticed."

A quirk of lips, "I notice everything." Bruce was peeling off his cowl and Clark couldn't help himself and before he finished removing it, Clark ruffled his hair.

Bruce growled, "Clark."

Superman folded his arms, his eyes sincere. He widely smiled, "What? You look... cute."

Even without the intimidated headpiece, Bruce was still formidable. "Cute shouldn't be in your vocabulary concerning me."

As a youth, Clark learned he was invulnerable to many things on this planet, including fire. And while learning its properties to harness and protect his people and while he figured out how to appreciate it; he realized it as an enjoyable experience. But to spar in any form with Bruce was like feeling he was falling into lava itself and Clark secretly admitted to himself that times like this, when Bruce was close to him... it was it downright fun.

"Oh, okay. How about adorable, beautiful, charming, dainty, delightful, perky, pleasant, pretty..."

"Dainty, Clark..."

"So that's the one you didn't like? Well, I am a reporter and we use big words like those all the time so-- darling, dear, delectable, delicious, delightful, dishy, fetching, heavenly, lovable, luscious..."

Clark was enjoying watching Bruce sigh, "What was that, my scrumptious?"

Bruce didn't make a full sigh but he could see Clark gearing up the hamster wheel inside his head and took the offensive, "Cute is-- fine, as long as I don't hear it within the vicinity of others. Otherwise..." The slow grin that graduated on Bruce's face was a distinct one, it was more intimate and made especially for him. However, this new expression meant that, depending on Bruce's mood, it could cause bad tidings for him. In working conditions, Bruce's smile was akin to a villain who got a one up on Superman, was being smart for once without needing to give a detailed itinerary of the whole plan to his face and bringing along some kryptonite with them.

With them together, here away from any hero, victim, a planet's possible destruction and/or any villainy on earth for a little while, Clark found the same reactions occurred as to field work; he was aroused and scared in the same way.

Clark had to wonder about his responses and maybe ask Bruce someday if that was a kind of bad thing.

 

Not today.

 

Holding his hands up, Clark quickly gave up in surrender, "I give, I give."

"Never surprising," smirking, Bruce continued, "You left before the presents were given to you."

"I know and I'm sorry. How are they taking it?"

Bruce shrugged uncharacteristically, "They'll live. Diana has them in line and Wally said it's cool."

Clark smiled, "I'm glad."

Walking closer to stand in front of him, Bruce asked again. "Why are you here?"

"Would you believe me if I said I had the birthday blues?"

Bruce's hand was already half way to his shoulder and stopped, peeled off his gloves and continued to Clark's neck, rubbing gently. "I wouldn't be surprised. You are entitled."

Letting him go, Bruce detaching the cowl from the suit and pulled off the gloves as well; he picked a flat surface among the ice to place them. Clark adjusted the air in the Fortress up a few degrees to Bruce's comfort level.

"Hmm. So why aren't you leaving me to my 'so called solitude'?"

"Because I know how you feel, maybe not to the same degree as you do, but I feel that way too on special occasions. Birthdays are about growth, and each year you hopefully learned from the previous one, and all the while as you grow olderâ€"" Observing Clark stared longingly at the holographic images of Jor-El and Lara, Bruce went looking around the hall and found another flat empty space opened up to him. He sat down. "--You still wonder if your parents are proud of the person you've become. You may not need them as you once did, but when they are no longer with you, it can... well, depression is not so surprising." Still observing Clark watching the larger than life holograms, he commenced releasing the buckles on the sides to the upper portion of the suit. "It is said that you can still feel alone among the crowd, that's true in many ways."

Clark paused in his introspection and released the breath he held, his back was still turned. "I have a great family, wonderful friends, a great job, I can travel and do things no one else can and when you're not being annoying or right, I have you;" Clark smile slid off as easily as it appeared, "but sometimes I look at them and still have an incertitude, a skepticism that maybe I'm not the man they wanted me to be."

"Bullshit."

"Bruce?"

Bruce straighten up and showed his anger, something he rarely did outside of the circle of his closest people, "If you truly believe that your parents sacrificed their lives, sending you so far away, knowing that they would never see you again and could only hope, just hope for a good life for their only child, so you can be this insecure about your existence here and what you doing with your life now, then it's possible that also my judgment is unclear and I'll need to re-examine my history with you."

"...Bruce?"

Clark saw that Bruce had said his piece and was waiting for an answer. As Clark watched Bruce stare at him a solid crystal arose from underneath him, adjusting as he settled his body on it.

"All right, I'm just feeling low right now and yes, I'll admit I'm acting foolishly. Sometimes the loss feels like I'm being distant from everyone, even you. I mean, my world was destroyed when I was born; all I'll ever know about my parents is from information that is stored here. I have a great feeling of loss, but to me but it is still in the abstract, almost peripheral. However, even with Krypton's destruction and my first parents lost to me forever, I had ended up with a good childhood, a good life. I can't compare mine to yours as yours has always been focused and sharp in a way that mine could never be, and I didn't start and base my career around it, you did."

The silence afterwards wasn't unpleasant but odd, as if a layer of their relationship was being exposed to a deeper connection neither was expecting. They both wanted to remove themselves from the undercurrent.

Bruce got up and went over to where his gloves were and Clark noticed for the first time a small package wrapped in silver. Bruce picked it up and walked over to him, opening his hands together and laying the package down. "The others will give you yours when we get back, I wanted to give this present tonight and considering we're here, it's seems appropriate."

Clark was greatly curious and even forgetting his own age, he stood up and ripped the paper like he was ten years old. Lifting it out of the box, he could only stare at it in wonder. Bruce stood next to him, "As a young man I traveled to Iceland and met a young lady named Frida while I was visiting. I found her name suited her well. She was a fair, young and an accomplished sculptress from a family of artisans. What made her different was that she sculpted blind."

"Between you two, was it love?"

"I wanted my mission and she was... at the wrong time of my life."

Clark grabbed hold of his hand and squeezed it before returning it to the object in his other hand. He kept casting his gaze from the larger than life holograms to the figures he held. "Is this marble?"

"Yes, I wanted something unique and called her. I visited and gave her a rough copy and an imprint sheet of your parents, she created the original form from plaster and then I brought her a block of Parian marble. Since you admired the "Winged Victory of Samothrace", I thought it was a good choice of material."

"It's beautiful. Thank you, Bruce."

"You're welcome. C'mon."

Picking up his cowl and gloves, Bruce left the honor of Jor-El and Lara. Clark, holding his present, gave his own farewell and followed him. "So, we're going back to the party? Bruce?" Clark noticed the sharp turn that Bruce made to bypass the transporter room, but by this time he had guessed his destination, especially since Bruce was removing the upper armor off entirely. Now that Bruce was naked from the waist up Clark definitely knew where he was going.

"I told Diana not to expect us back until tomorrow evening. Does that answer your question?"

"Oh yes." Clark didn't bother with his costume, he knew his was easy. Rephrase: he was easy. Arriving at the inner sanctum, then into the private areas of the bedroom, Clark came in and placed the statue on the dresser and watched as Bruce sat on the bed and removed his boots.

Clark was already in bed, naked.

When the final piece of armor and material was off, Bruce joined him, opening his arms, inviting Clark in. He laid his head on Bruce's shoulder and the lights lowered in the room. The sculpture looked like it was glowing.

Clark buried his nose into Bruce's neck, "I want to thank you again for my gift."

"Hmm, I'm glad you liked it. And, as a gift to me..."

"Yes?"

"If you feel this way again..."

"I'll know who to call."

"Good." Hugging Clark tighter, Bruce continued. "You know, if I visit here more often and with the mini versions of your parents over there, it is possible that you can stay in bed throughout the night instead of leaving to pay them homage."

"I should be suspicious of your generosity but I'll take it and say..." Clark mumbled something unintelligible into Bruce's shoulder.

"What?"

"Hmm, oh, yes," Clark kissed his chest and laid his right hand upon his chest. "I, Clark Kent aka Kal-El will stay in bed with you barring any disaster that occurs during my bedtime hours. Is that good enough?"

Bruce smiled and closed his eyes. "...smart-ass."

Putting his head back down, Clark returned the smile, "Good night and sweet dreams... my heavenly, lovable, luscious,"

"...ccclark..."

Finishing off with flourish, Clark, nearly asleep, had the last word. "...man."

Notes:

This orphaned work was originally on Pejas WWOMB posted by author Sam Emme.
If this work is yours and you would like to reclaim ownership, you can click on the Technical Support and Feedback link at the bottom fo the page.