Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Leaning forward on his bed, Clark flashed a bright smile at the camera sitting on a tripod in front of him. He had managed to clean himself and put his shorts back on, covering his private parts for the last minutes of the live broadcast again. His upper body was partly hidden by a cozy, blue and still-opened sweater to show his trained body, its hood pulled over his damp and therefore curly, black hair.
Despite the blue domino mask he used to wear to conceal his identity, his blue eyes sparkled pleasure. He was still panting and sweating, and a short gaze at the laptop next to him confirmed that the comments kept racing past, praising his performance.

And he enjoyed the live broadcast, every single second of it. Knowing that he was wanted, that all those men and women out there watching him jerk off on a regular basis, desired to fulfill his needs was obscenely arousing. Their never-ending appreciation had more than once pushed him over the edge. He felt loved by thousands of viewers at the same time. Of course, there always were a few nasty comments, but overall, he couldn’t complain.

“That was fun tonight, wasn’t it?” Clark said and stretched to angle for his laptop, pulling the device on his lap; legs crossed now. Slowly but surely, he was getting tired. “Are you feeling good? ‘cause I am now. Wish I could take you all to bed with me now.”

He chuckled softly about his own words and kept his eyes on the screen, absently reading a few comments.

goldentyler: fuck, that was hot.

starcitydaddy: I came twice and I’m not ashamed you’re so sexy

daffyx: it was beautiful. your beautiful!!

chriis94: i’d lick you clean anytime babe

His shows were not known for his submissions or suppressed daddy issues, nor was he showing dominance. Quite the contrary. When he had first started filming himself, he had just used what god had given him, simply jerking off and keeping the interaction with his viewers as little as possible. It was only meant to last a few months at best, earning him enough money to pay urgent bills. Back then he was using the built-in webcam of his laptop, trying to look desirable in his desk chair.

Biting on his lower lip, he replied to the comments with a wink, playing with a curl that liked to fall over his forehead. More and more remarks came in, until his eyes caught sight of a familiar username and he bit his lip harder to suppress a sparkling smile.

gothamprince: Wish I could hold you right now. You were so good for me, baby boy.

Every camboy had a special someone, Clark was certain about that. Someone supporting them on a regular basis and sticking around, even if he was sick and had to cancel a live broadcast, or simply didn’t feel in the mood to add spice and toys. For him, that special someone was gothamprince, who always knew exactly what he needed to write to get a smile from Clark in return.

“Thank you all for your love tonight. ’m gonna rest now, and you should, too,” he continued and waggled a teasing finger towards the camera, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. His fingers hovered over the log out symbol for a few seconds and he paused again, taking in the atmosphere for one last time before he ended the live streaming.

The screen that had shown his broadcast before went black and the chat ended. Clark emerged from his bed and stumbled for a few seconds, trying to pull up his sweatpants and get more comfortable. He fought the zipper of his sweat jacket and succeeded and within a heartbeat, he was already re-organizing the pillows on the king size bed into a soft wall he could lean into.

After he had put the camera safely away, he took one last look around the room, checking for leftovers of his activities, before he crawled back on the bed and made himself comfortable between the sheets, laptop back on his thighs. Skype was already running in the background and he just needed to pull it up front, making his call.

Sometimes, he reminded himself that he shouldn’t be doing private calls to one of his viewers. The man could be a creep or a stalker, or he could be selling their conversations to other perverts. But somehow, Clark didn’t want to believe in it. The Gotham’s prince was different than the average porn lover. He was surrounded by a strong and calm aura, yes, but he never once had asked him for a private show. Instead, he seemed to genuinely care for Clark and his well-being.

Two years ago, Clark had streamed his first live video, when his day job at a well-known newspaper wouldn’t cover some urgent bills. The first broadcasts were pretty disappointing with only a handful of viewers and even fewer donations. He almost quit the shows, too embarrassed of himself. But it only took time until his views increased and he became more popular among the others.

He had called himself Superboy and it was a catch. Nowadays, he was trending on camboyheaven.com. And instead of deleting his account after a few months he had used the money to buy small toys and better equipment to improve his shows. Nothing wild, only some small vibrating toys he enjoyed using. He had even replaced the sunglasses to cover his identity with an expensive looking, filigree domino mask.

Clark started to enjoy the live broadcast more and more. At day he was only an awkward reporter trying to survive and not accidentally jump in front of a car. But at night, he was confident, he was loved and appreciated and people all around the world actually paid good money to watch him do whatever he felt like that night. It was intoxicating.

“You’re gorgeous as always,” a husky voice greeted Clark and the dark silhouette of broad shoulders, strong arms covered in a soft looking shirt that belonged to a three-piece suit, and a prominent chin filled his screen. Raven black hair shimmered under the dim light of a standing lamp behind the man. As always, his features laid hidden, the shadows perfectly measured to cover any attribute Clark could possibly recognize. Even his voice was modified, or perhaps Clark’s sound system was mixing a low growl to its sound.

“B!” Clark smiled at the screen and waved awkwardly. “Did you enjoy the show? I haven’t seen as many comments as usual of you.” He didn’t intend to sound disappointed, but there was no denying that the lack of B’s comments had left him nervous, thinking too much about his performance and improvements.

“I didn’t want to make you feel insecure about today’s show. I was held back at the company today and couldn’t get back home on time. Will you forgive me, baby boy?” Bruce’s tender voice sent a flutter through his heart. “I couldn’t wait to get to you. You were marvelous, as always.”

“You don’t have to apologize, B! You got held back, there’s nothing you could’ve done,” Clark protested softly and smiled at him.

“But I want to. Will you accept it?”

“I will. I do. Thank you, B.”

It was silent for a moment, but Clark could hear the smile that tucked on B’s lips. The more he talked to him, the more Clark relaxed. Shows could be exhausting, and more often than not he felt the urgent need to crawl into someone’s arms and hide from the world. He felt overwhelmed. But talking to B, who could read his emotions with closed eyes, was all he needed to calm down.

“I only wished I could hold you in my arms right now, Clark. We wouldn’t leave the bed before sunrise again. You would fall asleep next to me, and I would keep you safe.”

Clark leaned back at the pillows, pulling the laptop on his thighs to keep B close to himself. “Me, too,” he blushed. “You always seem to know what you need to say to soothe me.”

It was hard to tell the exact moment Clark had fallen for B. And it was hard to be realistic about it. Their first encounter was unspectacular, to say the least. Clark had been broadcasting a show three months ago, when a new username had appeared among his regular viewers. Instead of lusting over his physique – which Clark was very proud of, considering he spent several hours a week at the local gym to train his fitness and muscles – he complimented him for being good, for being out there filming himself.

At first, it only had been a nice alternation of the usual comments he got, and he smiled his thanks to the camera whenever gothamprince wrote something. But after a few weeks, he found himself searching for the name in particular. Clark absorbed every single word of admiration, that he could get of him and he fell asleep to the praise still spinning in his head.

After an especially exhausting streaming session, he had sent a private message to the stranger, adding his Skype name to the short text: Call me. I need to feel safe tonight. Eight minutes and thirty-seven seconds of anxious sweating and several mental breakdowns later, the redeeming sound of a Skype call had filled his bedroom.

“Tell me about your day, will you?”

Biting his lower lip, Clark nodded curiously. “What do you want to hear?”

“Everything.”

“Well,” Clark interrupted himself, shortly checking the domino mask still being in place, “I finally finished the paper for work today. It was about time and I almost didn’t make it in time, but my boss was satisfied. And –”

They didn’t exchange much information. Clark had told him his first name and his age (28) and was allowed to call the other B, which had to be some kind of nickname. He had shared that he lived in Metropolis, whilst B had regarded him with the knowledge that he was resident somewhere in Gotham City, but didn’t speak the typical Gotham tongue. His day job at the newspaper was still a well-kept secret, even though B knew that he was writing for a living and seemed to like the idea of Clark being a semi-famous author. Now, he was going to share another part of his life.

“– and my brother came by during lunch break. He got a new job and had to tell me everything about it. Apparently, his best friend came up with the idea of arranging an interview with his father, who hosts a few parties over the year. I don’t know his father, or what I’m supposed to think about that. But my baby brother is going to be a bartender for the beautiful and rich. I’m proud, though. He managed to get a job after he dropped out of school, and he’s legal and responsible–“

“Still, you are worried,” B interrupted softly and Clark could only nod.

“It’s stupid, I know,” he tried to wave off, but B raised a hand to stop him.

“It is not. Clark, it absolutely is not stupid. You two are close, aren’t you? And you worry for him, which only shows that you love him dearly. Now tell me, how can loving and caring for your family be stupid?”

“My brother would tell you otherwise,” Clark smiled at B’s phantom, still thankful for his understanding.

“Kids want to feel independent. A worrying brother doesn’t fit their expectations, but it gets better the older he becomes.”

Clark could almost hear the man’s smile, while he took a relieved breath and felt his heart grow lighter. At moments like this, he sometimes wished he could actually see the other forming a smile with his lips, while his eyes would lay on Clark’s.

They keep chatting for a while, B feeding Clark with small bits of his personal life and his day at work – “One would assume they are able to make their own decisions, but I can see that it’s easier to just bother me all day long.” – and Clark lusting over Ma Kent’s apple pie – “It’s so delicious, I cannot even describe the joy of eating a warm piece of her cake!” – until Clark paused and tilted his head, a gentle expression on his face.

“B?”

“Yes, baby boy?”

“I really need this,” he said, hand gesturing between himself and the laptop, while B stayed quiet, letting him finish. “I need you. I need to … be able to talk to you. So, thank you. For being always here when I need you. Thank you for being a friend.”

“The same counts for you; I wouldn’t talk to you if I didn’t enjoy it,” B replied and stayed quiet for a moment, without a doubt taking in Clark’s features before his deep voice filled the room again. “You should finally eat and rest. I can see that you’re hungry and clearly tired.”

A short glance at the clock made Clark nod in agreement. “And it’s getting late. I don’t wanna keep you from sleeping either,” he added halfheartedly.

“You’re not. I do enjoy it, didn’t I say?” This time, Clark was certain about the smile on the man’s lips. He only wished he would be able to see its beauty. “I’m going to end the call because I know you won’t. Take care of yourself, Clark. Since I’m not able to do it myself.”

“I’m trying to,” he managed to say and could have sworn the shadows over B’s face darkened for a split second before an amused chuckle was coming through the speakers.

“Eat. And rest.”

Staring at the blank screen where B had been, Clark rolled his eyes and couldn’t stop himself smiling. B was always concerned about him, but didn’t let that show often. The more Clark appreciated them now. With a soft nudge, he closed his laptop and set it aside to slide off the bed. The floor was covered with a soft carpet that kept his bare feet warm, while he made his way to the door and pushed it open, sliding in the living room. Chinese takeaway was filling the air with a delicious scent.

He closed the bedroom door and passed the bookshelves that hid the grey walls of their apartment, as he crossed the wide room. The floor was again hosting a white carpet and a comfortable couch in front of the TV, that he didn’t use. It was Lois’ luxury. Curtains framed the large windows behind the couch and granted them a wonderful view over Metropolis at night.

Settling on the black leather sofa, he stretched his legs under the coffee table and leaned against the backrest, eyes focused on the ceiling. He could hear Lois taking plates and cutlery in the kitchen and he knew he should help her preparing dinner, but he felt a sudden lump forming in his throat and couldn’t make himself get up anymore.

The sound of soft steps was approaching him, a quiet noise told him, that the plates were sitting on the coffee table now. Lois hesitated and he could see out of the corner of his eyes that she was examining his figure closely, before leaving again to bring water and food.

It only took a few seconds for her to put the tray she was carrying on the table. Then she was next to him, her arms looping around his neck, while she tried to comfort him, soothingly stroking over his hair.

He slung his arms around his body, slowly exhaling the air he hadn’t known he was holding. His heart was racing. Breathing felt difficult all at once. And his mind was blank, not a single thought floating around in his head. He couldn’t even tell when it had begun when he had started to spiral down.

“Oh, Clark,” Lois whispered and he could feel the warmth radiating from her body. “It’s about him, isn’t it? Were the two of you talking again?”

Not trusting his voice, he simply nodded and leaned in her touch, listening to her calming voice. More than once, he had found peace in her logical but still hopeful view of the world. The world could fall apart around her and she would come up with a plan to glue the parts back together.

“Just breathe and focus on me, Clark. Can you feel my heartbeat?” Her right hand left his neck and slid over his arm to gently take his own hand, pulling it to her chest and pressing his fingers against her chest, right over her slowly pumping heart. “Concentrate on it.”

Of all the people in his life, Lois was the only one he had told about his second income. She was his best friend and a great investigative journalist; she would have found out about it sooner or later. It had been friendship at first sight, right after he had run into her and spilled her coffee over his tie. They even moved in together shortly after he had received a job offer at the Daily Planet, the newspaper Lois and he were working for.

“That’s good, Clark. You’re doing really good. Breathe in. And Out. Slowly.”

Knowing that she was sleeping in the next room was giving him the safety he needed since he had left his sheltered home in Kansas. And having her catching him, whenever hopelessness hit him, was more he could have ever asked for in a friend.

“No matter what, it’s going to be alright.”

As absurd as it sounded, Clark believed her. Lois had never failed him before.

Finally, after what seemed like an entirety, he felt the pressure lifting off his chest, releasing his lungs to the fresh air. He took a shaking breath, exhaled and inhaled again, deeper this time. The reassurance of Lois words was soothing his rapid pulse.

Slowly raising his eyes, he flashed Lois a small smile, snuggling closer and wrapping his arms around her feminine waist. Her scent filled his nose and he chuckled softly against her neck, burying his face in her soft mane. “Thank you.”

She laughed softly and hugged him tighter before her hands left his neck and cupped his face instead, while she was staring earnestly into his eyes. “You know, I’d track him down for you, Clark. You just need to let me know what he told you about himself and I can check for results.”

“I know you just want to help me, but he wouldn’t like it,” he rejected the offer she had made him a couple of times now, trying to stay positive. “I need to get to know him myself and the way he wants me to. Maybe, he doesn’t even want to see me in real life?”

“No, Clark. Stop it right there. You won’t think about it that way!”

Pulling away from his arms, she shook her head and leaned forward to grab one of the takeaway containers. She quickly spilled the contained fried noodles on a plate, putting it down in front of Clark. Seconds later he was holding a set of chopsticks.

“Now eat,” she told him whilst preparing her own meal, leaving some of the spring rolls for Clark to grab.

He watched for a moment and bit his lower lip, sighing quietly while she took her first bite and kept her eyes on the food, nevertheless gesturing him with a flick of her own chopsticks to finally eat. He complied and set the plate on his thighs – the coffee table was too short to function as an actual dining table –, hesitating again.

“It’s just .. I like him, Lois.”

“I know.”

“No, I like him.”

“I know. You’re not really subtle about your feelings, Clark.”

After that, they sat in silence and finished their meals. Lois generously filled his plate for a second time, and he ate without complaining, not wanting to make her worry any more. But the truth was, he didn’t feel hungry, nor could he tell if he had had enough. He didn’t even taste the fried noodles and chicken, or the otherwise so delicious spicy sauce. Thinking about B could easily throw him into depression, as soon as the other wasn’t present anymore.

It would be a dream to meet B and be able to hide in his strong arms, not only fascinating about it from the distance. But since the unknown man had never made a request of getting to know him in real life, he did not hold high hopes. Instead, Clark tried to distract himself by throwing himself in another story or helping Lois edit her next investigative article. Sometimes, when she wasn’t working on anything and his own work was already finished, he would go for a run. Working out had become an addiction that made him feel comfortable in his own skin. He tried to eat healthy, except for the midnight snack he and Lois had sometimes, even went to the gym a few times a week. Still, it just hit him sometimes.

Maybe, he should ask for a meeting during their next video call. Or start with his name and try to figure out if B was even interested in getting to know him. It certainly would help a lot to know whether he was on the same page or not, and if Clark had to forget about his crush. Who was he kidding; he would be damn lucky if someone chose a camboy to be their boyfriend.

Absently listening to Lois’ rant about work and what their editor-in-chief, Perry White, had just today instructed her with, he finished his plate and emptied the glass of water that Lois pressed into his hands. His mind was drifting back and forth between the charity event she was going to write about, and his mysterious friend, or whatever he should call him, but he nodded nevertheless and pulled a face, which seemed to satisfy her. He was going to apologize for not listening to her tomorrow, he decided; always feeling guilty, when he felt being no good friend.

By the time, she stopped talking, he flashed her a tiny smile and collected their dishes. Since she had prepared the food, it was only good manners to clear away the dishes and let her rest. She protested for a moment, until he convinced her to sleep and let it be his responsibility to take care of.

“I’ll even accompany you to the charity,” he offered.

“You would be my plus one?” she dug deeper and her eyes sparkled, while she stood up. “Maybe, we can get an interview with Tim Drake or even Bruce Wa–“

A silent laugh escaped his throat, while he put the empty takeaway containers together. “You do know, that I don’t really know your rich people? I can barely hold up with sports and I am the one writing half of those articles.”

“Which is why you should definitely come with me and read my gossip news, Clark. You never know when it’s needed.”

“Just go to sleep, will you?” he shushed her out of the room with dishes and emptied containers in his hands. “This won’t take long either as long as you just let me do it.”

Lifting her arms in surrender, she smiled at him and wished him a good night before leaving for the bathroom. He carried the tray back to the kitchen and threw the containers away. After a quick rinse, the dishes found themselves sitting in the dishwasher, which he started then. They would be finished in the morning and maybe he could even put them back into the cupboard before going to work. By the time he went for the bathroom himself, Lois was already gone behind the closed door of her bedroom.

Deciding to take a shower in the morning, he went for a quick splash of water to the face and brushed his teeth just enough to say it was done. Back in his bedroom, his sweat jacket and the sweat shorts went into the laundry basket, followed by his shorts. He put back on a new pair, he pulled out of his always messy closet behind his bed, which almost filled the small room. Diffused city light fell through the window at the bottom end of his bed, right behind his desk with the computer screen he didn’t use for his shows anymore. The webcam, even though of a higher quality than the built-in of his laptop, wasn’t enough.

Yawning, he checked his smartphone while falling backward on the bed and tucking the sheets around his naked chest. A name popped up, and he smiled immediately. Conner, his baby brother, had sent him a short text message.

From: Kon – 11:32 PM

Thanks for approving of the job! I swear I won’t disappoint you this time!
Love you!

Clark could only chuckle, thinking about the time Conner had followed him from Kansas to Metropolis, suddenly spotting several piercings and a mohawk, a leather jacket and spiky black belts hanging from his small waist, not really necessary on skintight leggings. He still wore the exact same outfit today, colors sometimes changing from blue to red. Whatever he wanted to be, Clark would always be by his side to fully support him.

To: Kon – 00:02 AM

You could never disappoint me, Kon. Love you, too!

He clicked send and wanted to put down his phone when another notification showed up and left him stunned. Skype had chirped in excitement, telling him that B had left him a message in the chat they had never used before.

Excitement rushed through his veins as he opened the app and stared at the six words which sat there, patiently waiting for his attention. B had thought about him, almost an hour after they had last spoken. He was thinking about him.

00:00 AM – Sweet dreams, Clark. See you soon.

Chapter Text

Rubbing his hands over his eyes, Clark sat on the small desk of his corner of the open-plan office. It didn’t provide any privacy, but he had still managed to transform it in a somewhat cozy place. A flowerless plant was sitting next to his monitor and took in most of the space on the right. On the left were small action figures hidden between stacks of paper and stories he had to look up in case they were interesting enough to get mentioned. Books about sports were sitting in a different stack behind the papers. They were well-read and sported several dog-eared pages, a testament of his early confusion with the fascinating subject. Nowadays they were just collecting dust.

On all his three precious paper walls he had hung pictures of his friends and family. Early pictures of Ma Kent and Pa Kent, his father missing with the years passing by. He had died in a hurricane during Clark’s childhood and his ma had taken care of him, trying to be both mother and father for a bitter and stubborn teenager mourning the loss of his beloved father. She was the strongest woman Clark had ever known.

A few photographs showed Conner and Clark, or just Conner smiling mischievously back on the farm in Kansas. One in particular, pinned to his monitor, was taken on Conner’s first day in Metropolis. No tattoos yet, but already pierced and styled in the leather jacket (spikes still missing). A big, yellow S was drawn on the back and Conner proudly showed it off, staring over his shoulder while a smug grin decorated his lips. His arm was raised and his fist clenched, thumb pointing at the logo.

“What’s that?” Clark had dared to ask and received an impatient look from his brother, who now that the picture had been taken, was arranging a pillow fort by Clark’s couch.

“Our family crest,” had followed, as if it was obvious.

“But it’s an S. We’re Kents,” Clark had disagreed and taken a closer look at the display of his camera. Don’t mess with the was sitting over the logo, in a small, messy scrawl. “Don’t mess with the S?”

“Ma showed me old stuff from our ancestors. Apparently, they were from somewhere in Europe and blended in with the locals by giving up their real name. El.”

“But that’s also no S, Conner.”

“Just … shut up and accept it! You’re only jealous cause she never told you,” Conner had tried to defend himself and Clark had given in, feeling a faint stab in his heart.  

“Alright, alright, son of El,” Clark had teasingly said and nudged Conner’s head. “How long are you planning to stay? Are you looking for your own flat?”

“Nah. Jason wants to ask his dad if I can move in with him. He’s rich and stuff.”

Clark was still looking back at the memory fondly. His brother, though he seemed to never grow tired of punk fashion and rebellion, had grown up since that day four years ago. He had graduated from High School last year, thanks to Jason and his tutoring, had traveled to Kansas for a while visiting home, and since he was back in Metropolis, he was more focused than ever. Clark was proud and couldn’t wait to watch what he would become.

The latest pictures were of Lois. She was often taking selfies with him, pulling faces and making him laugh. Sometimes, he even got them sent in a message with no explanation and often featured coffee. She would never let him live down their first meeting and the spilled hot drink. To be fair, he managed to spill her freshly brewed liquid over his best tie. He deserved to forget the incident.

Thinking about coffee, Clark groaned softly and let his eyes wander around the office to find Lois sitting at her desk, at the very end of the bureau. Right next to the office of Perry White, who had yelled at him only a few minutes prior, because he had been too late. Again. His defense was weak. Lois had tried to wake him, after he had ignored his alarm, and by the time he had been standing under the shower, she was already leaving in a hurry to cover for him at work.

Unfortunately, Perry had already been fuming for unknown reasons, even though the office gossip was speculating wildly, and when he had arrived, breathless from the bike ride to the newspaper, a thunderstorm had already been waiting for him. Now, Clark was still tired and also bored, with no new story assigned to him. Maybe Lois could send him for a small coffee run.

Clark got up from his chair and stretched his tense shoulders, watching how Perry took a call in his office. His editor-in-chief turned in his chair, his back now towards Clark while he looked out of the giant window and Clark sensed his chance. Within seconds, he grabbed his jacket and sprinted to Lois’ desk, leaning into her personal space with a tired smile.

“I’m getting us some coffee, Lo. Be back in ten and love you!” he whispered and already backed away, avoiding her judging look by taking a step to the left, grinning. She shushed him and turned back to the document she was working on.

“Just be quick. And don’t forget–“

“Extra cream. I know, Lo.”

With a last look at his distracted boss, Clark left the office and took the elevator downwards. He gave the stranger next to him a polite smile, stood away a good distance and practically flew as soon as the doors opened in the lobby. He knew he was short of time and hurried out of the building to jog down the street.

Around the corner was an excellent coffee shop, his personal favorite. The staff was friendly and always had a smile for him, the coffee tasted phenomenal and it also happened to be the shop where he first ran into Lois. She was well-known in there, as was the shop itself. Customers were standing in a line that almost reached the front door and Clark silently cursed, when he stopped behind a young woman, not daring to ask if he could order first.

Silently counting the customers before him, clearly making advantage of his height, he bit his lower lip. There was no way he could be back in ten minutes when there was an army of employees, some of them clearly on a coffee run, list of orders in hand.

He closed his eyes for a moment and held his hand over his mouth, suppressing a yawn. Now that he was standing again, he felt the tension in his tired body coming back. Maybe he would skip the gym and go straight for his bed tonight. His next show was on Saturday and he really should get back to healthy sleeping habits soon.

Another mission he needed to accomplish was checking on Conner in his shared apartment with Jason. Maybe invite them to dinner with Lois in their apartment. It had been a long time since they had cooked together, as a family. Clark had promised their ma that he would look out for his brother. And Jason basically belonged to the Kent family by now, always keeping a distance from the family that had legally adopted him. It wasn’t they didn’t care for him. He just never seemed to find his place among his step brothers.

A soft touch on his shoulder had Clark startling, and he hastily raised his eyes to stare into deep blue oceans. A gorgeous man with a deadly jawline was standing in front of him, holding four cups of coffee in a cup holder, a delicate smile playing on his lips. Clark was dumbfounded. He opened his mouth, but not a single word left his throat while he blinked at the tall and buff man.  

“Take two of these. You seem tired and I can tell you’re in a hurry,” he offered Clark and raised the cups, his rich, deep voice sending shivers down Clark’s spine. Clark gulped and bit his lip again.

“That’s very kind of you,” he managed to say and was surprised by the firm sound of his voice, “but my friend is already covering for me at the office and I can’t forget the extra cream she orders all the time.”

The smile on the beautiful stranger’s face deepened before he took a cup from the holder to hand it to Clark. “That’s for her. I didn’t know your order so I took the liberty to make a recommendation. Perhaps it’s to your liking.” Another cup was pushed into Clark’s hand, definitely taller than the first one.

“How–,” he tried to ask, his head spinning in confusion, not able to follow the events anymore.

“You’re Lois’ friend. She mentions you during interviews sometimes,” the black-haired man explained with a short look at the expensive watch around his wrist. “You should head back; I don’t want to hold you up any longer. Enjoy the coffee.”

And with that he stepped back and sent a last smile towards Clark before he turned and disappeared behind a wall, obviously sitting down at one of the tables. Someone behind Clark cleared their throat and he startled again, catching the stare of a man. The line was moving. Clark backed away with an apologetic murmur, shaking his head. Caffeine first, thoughts later, he decided and went for the door.

On his way out, he saw a familiar white streak in black hair and sent a tired grin Jason’s way. He got a wink back and signaled the boy he would call soon, which was rewarded with an eye-roll. Then he was on the streets again, breathing fresh Metropolitan air back to the office.

The coffee was great. Of course, it was great. It tasted similar to the chai tea latte Lois had bought him once so he assumed, they added cinnamon in some way, but he couldn’t name it. He had yet to tell Lois about the encounter, but arriving back at the office, he had been in a hurry and just wordlessly left the coffee with her, before rushing to his desk. Not a second later, Perry was hovering over Lois to talk about a new story she was supposed to cover.

Editing the article about a minor ice hockey match, he had enough time thinking about the attractive stranger. Clark may have been blinded by the expensive three-piece suit or the charming smile, but he had never seen that man before. He would have remembered him otherwise, being exactly the type of man Clark would fall for any time of the day. Strong, mature, but genuine. Not speaking of those blue eyes; an untamed, crystal blue sea, like feral waves crashing against the cliffs of Clark’s mind.

And he had been so goddamn mysterious. Looking back at it now, Clark only wished he had shown enough intellect to interact with the stranger, maybe asked for his name or a number. But instead of texting him, screwing the three-days-rule, he sat at his desk and stared at the monitor, absently nipping at the half-emptied cup.

His phone vibrated and the display enlightened itself, showing a new message from Conner, but he didn’t open it. Looking back at the monitor, he saved the draft and put it in his folder for Perry to use later. He was about to focus on the papers laying on top of the stack when Steve leaned around the paper wall separating them and waited until Clark had turned his head to look at him questioningly.

“Look at Perry and Lois. He seems furious. What do you think she’s done this time?” his co-worker asked and didn’t try to suppress the grin on his face. It was well-known that Lois’ investigative articles were brilliant but not seldom controversial, even dangerous to publish. Perry had assigned her to celebrities for a month to avoid her next big story.

“I don’t think she’s working on anything,” he replied and glanced at them for a second, quickly staring back at his desk when Perry’s eyes snapped in his direction. He wasn’t keen on another lecture. Steve hastily disappeared behind his wall again, not without a small chuckle.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Perry walking his way, Lois following him with a frown, arms folded. Clark groaned quietly and went through his last articles in his head, including the one he just finished. Or did he help Lois work on a new story without knowing it? Had she said or done anything suspicious? He couldn’t remember.

The duo stopped beside his desk chair and he could feel the tension radiating off Perry while he hesitated but eventually turned. Lois sent a reassuring smile his way, without losing the frown, but it was enough to soothe Clark. He exhaled slowly and faced Perry with a friendly nod.

“Do you need anything?” he asked and glanced to Lois before looking at his boss again.

“Indeed, Kent,” came the instant reply and Clark felt relieved about the lack of aggressive yelling. “Lois informed me that you’re going to join her tomorrow night. It’s an important charity event and I do hope you’re going to behave at your best.”

“Of course, Sir,” Clark assured him hastily, but Perry raised his hand to stop him.

“There’s more, Kent. Lois can’t cover every interview she’s supposed to do and the board is hot on my heels. Just be prepared to do some of them yourself. Or split the list between the two of you now. I don’t care as long as you cover the necessary questions.”

Clark nodded again, trying to suppress the internal groan that had to vibrate off his body in the most visible way. When did he become an expert for rich people and their business? Nevertheless, he said “I can do that,” and saw Lois smiling brighter.

“One more thing, Kent.” Perry raised his eyebrows and pulled a nice stack of neatly folded banknotes out of his pocket. A golden money clip held the notes together. Without looking at it any further, he passed it to Lois while staring at Clark, shaking his head. “Make sure he wears a fitting suit this time, Lois. It’s requested. From someone up there.”

With that, he left and disappeared in his office, closing the blinds. Clark stayed behind on his chair, blinking irritatingly and trying to figure out what just happened while Lois was staring at him in excitement. Even Steve dared to peek around the paper wall again and whistled at the sight of money.

“We’re going shopping, Clark. No buts. I’m going to enjoy this for once,” Lois told him and put the money safely into her pocket. “And invite your brother, too. He may have a questionable fashion sense when it comes to himself, but he certainly knows what looks good on you.”

Clark could only nod and pick up his smartphone. Since they had moved in together, she tried to talk him into new clothes and formal suits. He liked wearing the flannel shirts he brought from Kansas and the washed-out jeans. After a while he had quit wearing them in front of her, sticking to sweatpants and plain t-shirts instead and she had appreciated that.

But the ill-fitting suits still followed him ever since. At first, he couldn’t afford suits that weren’t on sale. The more money he got from his shows, the more time he spent in the gym and the suits he could now afford just didn’t compliment his body anymore. And he still didn’t care enough to bring them to a tailor for customization.

Nevertheless, he complied and sent a message to Conner after Lois kindly told him the time and place they would meet the next day. A reply came back only a few minutes later and Conner happily confirmed their plans. Clark rolled his eyes when he saw that Conner would also bring Jason along and simply put his phone away. They could wait, he decided, before getting back to work.

By the time he was leaving, he had finished the coffee and left the cup on his desk for the cleaners to throw it away; the still unread, scrawled B on the green material facing a picture of Clark at his first day at the Planet.

“That one looks so good on you, Clark!”

Conner was beaming and stared at his brother, who just came out of the dressing room wearing suit number he-didn’t-care-anymore. He had settled in a comfortable wing chair and put his legs over the armrest. His favorite leather jacket laid abandoned on the floor to his feet.

“But look at the wrinkles it pulls at his ass. It’s not the right cut for him.”

Jason did a better job blending in with the expensive clothing around them. He still wore tight, black trousers, but they weren’t torn and patched up together like Conner’s. He had chosen a burgundy shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a black suit vest that gave him, combined with the piercing blue eyes, more authority than it should. The raven black hair was forming small curls where it hadn’t been shaved to an undercut.

“Shut up, Jay! That’s what you said about the last suits, too!”

Lois was being quiet. She had taken a seat next to Jason on the sofa and was working on questions for their interviews, since Clark had made a fool of himself early, only knowing a few Metropolitans on Perry’s list. She had offered to work out the questions he was supposed to ask and promised him to show him around before he would be doing his first interview. For now, she left him with Conner and Jason and only looked up for a short nod.

“I said it because it’s true,” Jason defended himself now and shook his head. “We can’t let him run around high society while he looks like he tried but gave up halfway in.”

“We could at least save it for the selection later,” Conner tried again and Clark could see the pout forming on his lips.

“Try on the next suit, Clark,” Jason ignored him and leaned back, crossing his legs.

With an apologetic smile, Clark disappeared into the small dressing room again, taking off the expensive suit jacket and trousers. He had liked it, but the boys had made it clear that his opinion wouldn’t count in the end. As soon as the group had stepped through the doors of the tailor Jason’s adoptive father seemed to prefer – according to Jason – he had not been more than a model trying on whatever the elderly man brought him.

Abandoning the grey suit for a deep blue one now, he changed and adjusted the tie Jason had made him wear over a plain shirt, before he buttoned the jacket. A look into the mirror made him roll his eyes. It was strange seeing himself in such nice clothes, and every new suit seemed to fit a bit better than the last.

A tailor was waiting next to the room to take the last suit from him when he stepped out, carefully putting it back onto the hanger. Conner let his gaze wander over his body, taking in the new details and the dark color, that almost faded to back. Clark turned around to stop Jason from asking for it again, before he moved his arms. It was tight around his arms, but got wide around the shoulders.

“I like the color. But that’s all,” Jason said and shook his head. “It’s so big it makes you look bulkier than you are. Trust me on that; muscles are nice, but not even Bruce would take you home in that suit. And he certainly doesn’t hold up to high standards.”

It was not the first time Jason mentioned his adoptive father tonight. Despite loving the boy like his own brother, Clark didn’t know much about his family. Only a few names, habits Jason had adopted from them, and the polite butler, that occasionally picked him up for family dinners every Sunday.

“Gotta go with Jay here. It just doesn’t look good on you,” Conner agreed and waved him away. “Next one.”

Conner had met him on a random day in the park while he had been visiting Clark in Metropolis some years ago. They had stayed in contact over the years and become best friends. Since Conner lived with Jason, they were inseparable, which had led to Jason becoming part of his small family. Even Ma was asking about his wellbeing from time to time or sending homemade pies and jam.

With a short look at the shop window and the fading sunlight, Clark sighed and disappeared behind the wooden door. It was slowly getting tiring and he just wanted to get home and sleep. Maybe eat before sleep, but rest as a final result was a nice thought.

He took another suit from the hanger and put on the light blue fabric. Hands buried in the pockets of his trousers, he stepped out and got send back within seconds. It only took Jason one look to shake his head.

“The fit is nice, but not in that color. Bruce always says it shouldn’t be worn on a suit.”

Clark was tempted to groan and raise a white flag, but the tailor gave him a reassuring smile, passing Clark the black suit he was carrying in his arms. It felt heavier than the others and Clark tried to look hopeful on his way back to the dressing room.

Changing into the dark suit didn’t take long, but he took the time to look into the mirror again. The suit vest underneath the jacket was almost completely hidden by the buttoned jacket. It was a nice peak and he didn’t look padded anymore, the suit fitting tightly.

Facing his judges again and spinning for them, he raised an eyebrow and got a small nod from Jason while Conner finally managed to sit upright on his chair, grinning in satisfaction. His brother might act cool and unapproachable, but right now he was buzzing from simple excitement.

“I like it. It’s way better than the others,” Jason declared and tilted his head. “Look at his ass and his arms. It almost looks like it was tailored for him.”

“And his shoulders,” Conner added with a proud smirk. “They finally fit. You should show off your body more like that, big brother.”

“I like the vest. You look so mature and grown-up in it,” Lois said while her lips formed a soft smile.

A wave of relief was running over Clark and let him smile in return. It was finally over. He could feel his empty stomach celebrate and turned for the dressing room while Lois started collecting the sheets she had been filling with questions. Conner bent down to pick up his jacket as Clark closed the door.

“I think we should try pinstripes,” Jason murmured and Clark ignored the quiet words coming from the shop’s main room, changing one last time into his streetwear, dark jeans and a flannel shirt.

“Pinstripes, Jay? Seriously?” Conner snorted.

“What? Bruce likes them.”

“I thought you don’t like him. Why’re you so persistent about his opinion?”

Jason clicked his tongue. “Just cause we don’t like each other that much doesn’t mean that I  hate everything he stands for. I grew up to a certain standard, it’s hard to drop it.”

The bickering stopped when Clark returned with the chosen suit and the shirt he had worn underneath. The tailor took both and left for the counter, the group following until Jason caught sight of the exact suit he had just worn, but pinstriped. And according to Jason, Bruce would very much appreciate seeing a reporter in pinstripes.

It didn’t take them much longer to leave the shop with two suits and four shirts as well as a set of ties. Though Jason had almost made him buy a new pair of oxfords before Lois had assured him that shoes wouldn’t be a problem. As long as they managed to get the suits back home. The money was almost completely spent, but the small change was enough to finance pizza from a nice place just around the corner of the boy’s apartment, which was in the neighborhood.

While Jason and Lois had a small conversation going on, Conner walked in silence next to Clark, softly bumping his shoulder against Clark’s arm due to a lack of height. Clark chuckled softly and put his free arm around Conner’s shoulders, carrying the bags in his other hand. It had gotten late and the streets were illuminated by the streetlights creating dark spots every few feet. He didn’t mind walking around the city by night. He actually enjoyed it.

A fresh breeze ran through his hair and he closed his eyes for a moment, following the motions of his brother. The encounter at the coffee shop long forgotten, he was imagining walking with B through the night, feeling his strong arm around his waist, guiding him into the right direction. He would feel warm and safe and loved. It would be perfect. Except it would never be real and he was too afraid of the consequences to ask for a date.

Clark stopped and let his brother walk a few steps without him while he pulled out his phone and unlocked the screen. Skype was open since they had paid for the suits and his message, the first he had ever written outside of the show, was lonely waiting at the bottom of their chat to be discovered by his faceless friend.

21:37 PM - I miss you. Tell me you miss me, too?

No reply. And he had thought, after the short message last night, that they were starting to be more than camboy and viewer. He thought he was more than the boy B was calling and talking to after a good wank.

Suddenly, a warm hand was touching his shoulder and he blinked, staring at Conner’s soft smile. The blue eyes were filled with concern and love as he stood in front of Clark and tightened his grip on Clark’s shoulder.

“Whatever it is, you can talk to me. Maybe not today, but I’m here when you need me,” he said and within a heartbeat, Clark found himself in a crushing hug with his brother, slowly smiling at the younger boy.

“I’ll always have your back, Clark.”

Chapter Text

Friday night came faster than Clark would have preferred. It was already dark and surprisingly cloudy for Metropolis' conditions during the spring,  and the cold wind whistling through the crowns around the National Library was promising rain Clark could already smell in the air. He was dressed in the black suit they had bought the other day – no pinstripes tonight – and a knitted tie Jason had forced him to wear. The expensive wool coat had been a gift from Lois and proved itself against the cold.

His fingers were tightly wrapped around a few sheets of paper Lois had given him. She had only given Clark one interview, and she would introduce him to the man herself before leaving for her own duties. Even though he had already done a few interviews in the past, he was nervously fidgeting  with the paper. Lois was counting on him. Perry was counting on him. He couldn’t screw this. It was important.

Lois, standing next to him, was watching the arrival of the last guests, her shoulder touching his arm. They were surrounded by photographers and flashlights directed at the wealthy people leaving their cars for the short red carpet. A few even stopped at the middle of the stairs leading to the open doors and smiled at the cameras while someone took care of their cars.

Shivering in his coat, Clark leaned down and placed his hands on Lois shoulders, still holding the questions in one. “We should go inside, Lo. It’s getting cold,” he said near her ear, trying to drown out the shouting around them. Another car pulled up and a beautiful woman opened the driver’s door. Without a smile, she handed her keys over and let a young man take the wheel, climbing up the stairs.

“That’s Diana Prince,” Lois told him and smiled, following the brunette with her eyes. “I’ve a few questions for her, too.”

Clark frowned but still managed to curl his lips upwards. “We don’t go inside, right? We stay here until the last snob’s arrived.”

“We’re going in a minute!” Lois laughed in reply and turned to the carpet again. “I need to see if Richard Grayson is also attending. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for an interview with him.”

She carried on feeding him information about the man, but Clark zoned out. His thoughts were back at this morning where he had tried to write another message for B, but stopped himself from sending it. He didn’t want to sound pathetic and clingy writing him again and without a plausible reason.

Well, the reason was he missed the other man, but committing it was a whole new level. And showing B he was really missing him could be the first step to losing him. The first message could have been a mistake. Maybe he had been drunk. But a second text, literally repeating the words from before was no longer a mistake.

Perhaps it was for the best to bury his hopes of getting to know the real B and simply stick to the script they had worked out during the last months. Making a show, getting exhausted, searching comfort with a stranger, who was only then available and waiting for his adoration.

A soft nudge against his arm brought his attention back to the white Tesla pulling up in front of them. The passenger door opened simultaneously with the driver’s door and a grey-haired man in a dark shirt and an even darker suit vest climbed out of the car. He was wearing a hardly noticeable stubble and horn-rimmed glasses and walked around the car, seemingly unimpressed by the photographers.  Another man was waiting next to the driver’s door and Clark cursed under his breath.

It was him . The gorgeous man from the coffee shop, who was now watching the elder man getting in the car again. A few words were exchanged, then he drove away and left Mr. Handsome in front of the red carpet, over which he strode with determined steps.

Clark stood there, simply staring at him without taking in a single detail he would later remember. He had almost forgotten their encounter and the strange but also caring offer to take the cups. Now that he was thinking about it again, he had wanted to ask Lois for his name. He had seemed to know her quite well.

“Who’s that?” he blurted out and bit his tongue nervously, without looking away from the man.

“Thought you’d know him,” Lois laughed and rolled his eyes. “That’s Bruce Wayne. He’s from Gotham. Billionaire, playboy, CEO of Wayne Enterprises and sponsor of Gotham’s ice hockey and basketball teams. You never heard his name before?”

Clark shook his head, though he could hear a distant bell ringing. Somewhere, he had heard the name. Maybe at a match or at the Daily Planet. He wasn’t sure anymore, but he also didn’t care.

“He walks like some rock star,” he pointed out and made a small nod into Bruce Wayne’s direction, who was ignoring the flashlights, stepping through the doors.

“In a way he is. At least in Gotham”, she explained. “His parents left him a fortune and half of Gotham in their possession. You should see the manor he lives in. Or his office at the company. I had the pleasure to interview him a couple of times now.”

She smiled now while she took his hand and slowly pulled him forward to the entrance. “Which is why you are going to do it tonight. I had my fair share of his attempts at flirting attempts.”

Taking a deep breath, Clark tried to stay positive and followed his best friend, focusing on his inner voice. He could do that. It was just an interview with the hot guy who bought him coffee. Him and Lois. And assuming  that Bruce Wayne had known Lois would be at the gala, interviewing important guests as usual, he probably wanted to impress Lois anyway. So there was no reason to be nervous, because Bruce Wayne was out of Clark’s league.

With a silent groan, he stuffed the questions into his pocket and took out the press card, which he put around his neck. A man took his coat after they had passed the security control. He straightened his suit, took a deep breath and when Lois held out her hand with an inviting smile, he took it gladly and pressed her hand for comfort.

“Let me introduce you to Bruce Wayne.”

It turned out she couldn’t introduce him to the man right away. As soon as they stepped into the giant foyer filled with guests, they were handed around like sweet kittens. They were having a glass of champagne with the mayor of Metropolis, a few snacks at the high table with Lex Luthor and after they had gotten rid of him, Diana Prince was greeting Lois with a cool smile. Within seconds, they were deep  in a conversation about the art displayed in the building.

Clark was left alone and stood in front of an obscure painting for a moment, blinking at the canvas covered in abstract forms and colors before he turned and faced the wide room again. The walls seemed to soar endlessly until they reached the white ceiling. A single, giant chandelier made of glass and thin, silver filaments was illuminating the room and painted tiny freckles on the ground. It was magnificent.

He recognized a few faces among the crowd and smiled when a fellow reporter greeted him shortly, disappearing behind a door. The sign told him it was the toilet and he looked away, focusing on the room again.

Clark began to walk when he saw the bar at the other side of the room. Waiters carrying trays of champagne and orange juice were crossing his way, without a doubt coming from the kitchen, but Clark was determined to get his hands on a glass of a stronger drink. Without Lois by his side, the tension came back. He could feel the sweat forming on his forehead.

To his luck, a familiar face looked up as soon as he slid on a bar stool in front of the young man. Jason smirked and put the glass he was polishing down, pouring in a nice amount of bourbon. Years of studying Clark whenever they were out for a drink and Capri Sun (until Conner and Jason had been old enough to buy their drinks without a fake ID themselves) brought him a good knowledge of Clark drinking habits.

With a tiny smile, Clark wrapped his fingers around the cold glass and took a sip from the liquid, concentrating on the soft burning in his throat. It was surprisingly mild considering he wasn’t a regular drinker.

“Looking for Conner?” Jason asked and took the money Clark was offering him with a wink. “He should be back in a minute.”

“You take care of him?” Clark asked without replying to Jason’s question. “Make sure he does good. He was so proud of himself when he told me about the job.”

“You know I won’t let him down, Clark. He’s my brother. And he’s good at it, even without my help. Besides, it’s my head that will roll if he fucks this up.”

Clark let out a quiet laugh and couldn’t suppress the smile that was spreading on his lips. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, no,” Jason rolled his eyes and took another glass he started to dry with the dish towel. “Now tell me why you’re sitting at my bar – in a stunning suit by the way, got it recently? – behaving like someone just died. Lois finally dumped you or what?”

“Very funny,” Clark snorted and pulled a face, shaking his head slightly. “I’ve got only one interview today and it has to be Bruce Wayne of all people.”

“And that’s bad 'cause what? You turned him down before?” Jason tried to follow with a frown.

“Lois wanted to introduce us, but she’s occupied with Diana Prince and I don’t know what to say to him. He’s– … I met him a few days ago and I didn’t even know who he was back then. What if I’m making a fool of myself?”

Clark was struggling to put his anxiety into actual words and groaned, burying his face in his hands to rub over his eyes. Then he downed the bourbon with a single gulp and tried to focus on breathing deeply like Lois had shown him. His hands were shaking slightly in sync with his pulse.

“You won’t make a fool of yourself, Clark,” Jason told him and filled a glass with fresh water, which Clark took gladly.

“How do you know?” he asked and looked up to meet the blue eyes, squinting in doubt.

“Cause we’re talking about Bruce Wayne,” Jason laughed. “You don’t wanna know what he’s done already. And everyone knows from the newspapers. But whatever you’re going to do, nobody will care enough to find out.”

With a short glance at the water between Clark’s hands, he softened his smile. “Now drink. We don’t wanna be wasted for Brucie, do we?”

Obeying, Clark drank the water and put the emptied glass in front of Jason, who nodded satisfied and refilled it. Then he turned to serve another guest. For a short moment, Clark watched him mixing a cocktail, but turned his attention when a familiar face appeared behind Jason and grinned at him.

He raised his hand and waved awkwardly at Conner, expecting him to come over and talk for a few minutes before he would get up and look for Wayne. Shrugging, Conner nodded at another guest and turned to ask for their drink, still smiling kindly.

Clark couldn’t stop himself from pouting and observed Conner’s skilled movements. His brother seemed happy, he noticed and took a sip from the water. And he didn’t seem too upset about the white shirt and black bow tie both he and Jason had to wear. He was tempted to take a picture for their mother, but stopped himself from pulling out his phone when Jason appeared in front of him again.

Without a word, he softly placed another glass next to Clark, obviously filled with an amber-colored liquid. His eyes were focused on a point behind Clark and his lips twitched, forming a cocky smirk. Before Clark could even think about turning around, he heard a deep laugh right next to him.

“Thank you, Jason,” a familiar voice said and Clark audibly sucked in his breath. He didn’t need a look to confirm that Bruce Wayne had just arrived and sat down next to him.

“Mr. Wayne,” Jason simply replied and glanced at Clark’s wide eyes, giving Wayne an eye-roll. “Just don’t give him a heart attack.”

The billionaire laughed again, softer this time, and leaned into Clark’s field of view. His lips were forming a kind smile and Clark smiled himself, although reserved and cautious when he turned to face the man.

Bruce was as gorgeous as he remembered him being. Now, that he sat next to him and didn’t feel the need to run away from the press, Clark finally found the opportunity to look at him properly. He was wearing a perfectly fitted three-piece suit, charcoal grey, made of some kind of wool. Mohair maybe, Clark guessed, remembering what Jason had tried to teach him about suits. Underneath the jacket and matching vest, he had put on a black shirt and a knitted tie in a slightly brighter grey.

Everything on Bruce Wayne seemed to match his strong features and the authority he emitted. Unlike the other day, his hair was discreetly gelled back and his eyes were piercing, though still soft around the edges and reassuring. He remembered Clark.

“I think I didn't properly introduce myself the other day,” he spoke in a soft voice again and held out a hand for Clark to take. “Bruce Wayne. Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kent.”

They shook hands while Jason excused himself with a small wave and Bruce’s eyes flickered to him before his attention was back on Clark. He tilted his head, eyes wandering over Clark’s features, lingering over his mouth for a second and snapping back to his eyes.

“You know Jason?” was the first question Clark came up with and he bit his tongue, internally screaming at himself. What a stupid way to begin a conversation, Kent.

Bruce gave him an odd smile in return. “It’s complicated and not my story to tell, but let’s say he knows what I like to drink and I don’t complain when he offers it.”

They fell into silence and Clark nodded absently, mind racing in order to find anything else he could say in return, hopefully somehow managing to mention his interview. His fingers very tightly wrapped around the glass of water as he remembered to take a swallow. Bruce mirrored his movements and sipped at his drink, lips curling up in amusement.

“I didn’t get the chance to thank you for the coffee, Mr. Wayne,” he decided to say and earned a soft chuckle from the billionaire.

“It’s Bruce, please, and you’re welcome. I couldn’t not buy the coffee seeing you in line.”

“Clark,” he offered in return and Bruce’s smile deepened visibly, “and you saved my day. One second later and Perry would’ve roasted me alive. I wouldn’t be here tonight then.”

“Now we wouldn’t have wanted that,” Bruce said, his eyes filled with delight. Sipping on his drink again, he rested his arm on the counter, leaning on the wooden plate.

“Definitely not,” Clark agreed and smiled himself when he began to relax, the tension slowly fading away. His hands were still shaking ever so slightly, but the initial fear of messing it all up disappeared. “I’m actually here to ask you for an interview, Mr. Wa– Bruce,” he corrected himself and raised his brows expectantly.

“We can schedule an appointment at the company. I’ll let my PA send you a date and you come over to Gotham. You’ll love my city,” Bruce suggested in a neutral voice and straightened his shoulders. The smile was replaced by a kind but distanced expression.

“I was hoping we could do it now?” Clark tried to argue, not willing to fail at the one mission he had tonight, but Bruce only glared at him, making him gulp and want to avoid the stormy eyes. He resisted.

“I don’t mind talking to you, Clark. Just don’t let it be one of the pre-phrased questions you carry around. Ask me something you want to know.”

And with that, Bruce emptied his glass in one gulp, placing it on the counter again and sending a short smile  Jason’s way, who had been listening to their encounter. A few banknotes were placed next to the glass and Bruce stood up, offering Clark his hand.

“Walk with me.”

Talking to Bruce Wayne was easier than Clark had expected. After a skillful escape from the party during which Bruce hadn’t let go of his hand and just pulled Clark with him, they found a nice and empty balcony. Their only company was a lonely palm tree in the left corner, staring longingly at them leaning against the railing of the other corner.

Bruce stared into the sky for a moment, or maybe it was the roof, and then shook his head, snorting silently when Clark tilted his head in a silent question. They were standing opposite of each other, hands no longer connected but still close. Clark didn’t need to cross the short distance between them; he already felt the strange warmth radiating off the billionaire.

“Metropolis is strange. It’s too neat and clean for me. I’m used to gargoyles watching over me from the roofs.”

“Gargoyles?” Clark repeated awkwardly, i needing a moment to picture the grotesque creatures staring down from old buildings. “I always feel uncomfortable around them.”

“Have you ever been to Gotham? I wouldn’t say so. Our gargoyles are special. They care for their people,” Bruce replied and a barely visible smile tucked at his lips. “I even know a boy, who’s got his favourite gargoyle.”

It sounded adorable. Clark chuckled, not questioning how the boy would get to a gargoyle sitting quite a few feet over the ground. They were talking about Gotham. Stranger things had happened in the city, considering the surprising achievements of their ice hockey team.

Bruce cleared his throat and his brows shot up expectantly.

“Thought of any questions you want to ask me?”

Clark nodded.

“I’d like to satisfy my curiosity in return, if you allow me to,” Bruce added and Clark didn’t hesitate to nod again.

“Do you have family?” he went for the second question popping up in his mind. The first one was about his relationship status and Clark decided he should approach the topic later or, maybe never.

“Everybody has,” Bruce simply answered, “and Alfred would scold me if I told you otherwise.”

“Alfred?”

“My butler. You have probably seen him stealing my car earlier,” Bruce explained and smirked, tilting his head to one side. “My turn now. Where are you from?”

“Smallville, Kansas.”

“And what brought you to Metropolis? It's a long journey from Kansas.”

Clark felt the tension falling off his shoulders when he returned the tiny smile that appeared on Bruce's plump lips. Bruce wasn't as self-centred as he had expected and he relaxed in his presence, the excitement wearing off. Bruce was going easy on him and Clark appreciated it.

“I grew up on a farm, but my parents always told my brother and me to live our dreams. And if that didn’t include the farm, it would be okay, too,” he explained and shrugged sheepishly. “I went to college as soon as I could leave and took courses in writing and journalism.”

“I assume that’s where you and Ms. Lane met?”

Clark snorted amused. “She basically adopted me during my internship at the Daily Planet. We became best friends, moved together, fought over food  – the usual stuff.”

“Your friendship sounds quite … lovely,” Bruce laughed in similar amusement when he opened the suit jacket and shrugged the fabric off his shoulders, catching it in his strong hands.

Clark felt the suit covering his own shoulders as Bruce wrapped it around him, the sudden warmth of the woolen material heating his body. He hadn’t even noticed the cold until then, nor the shivers that were slightly shaking his upper body.

He smiled thankfully and snuggled into the jacket more, breathing in the musky fragrance.  

“I think it’s my turn again,” he decided and bit his lower lip, trying to organize the flood of question in his mind. “What’s your favourite color?”

In retrospect, it was a silly question; one you would expect to hear on a playground but not during an almost-interview at a fundraiser for books. And Bruce just smiled breathtakingly and answered with a sincere tone in his voice as if he was about to declare the word of God.

“The color of your eyes.”

For a second, they were both quiet and stared at each other. Then, Clark could see the seriousness crumble around Bruce’s eyes and suddenly they were both laughing. Bruce a little more civilized than Clark, at least trying to keep himself together while Clark covered his mouth with his hand, grinning widely.

“No, no. Don’t cover your smile. It’s beautiful,” Bruce told him and grabbed his wrist, softly pulling Clark’s hand down. “And my favorite color is blue, by the way. Not my fault it happens to be your eye color, too. But for the public, it’s black. That fits more to the image I try to keep upright.”

The gorgeous smile stayed on his lips and Clark didn’t know what to say next, just standing there in silence. His gaze was locked to Bruce’s eyes and while he stared into the deep blue, he noticed the light change from blue to green around his pupils.

Clark gulped. The nervous fluttering in his stomach wasn’t helping at all, he decided and took a step backwards, trying to collect himself. The eye contact broke, but Bruce’s gaze was still open, genuinely asking for another question by raising his brows again.

Clark laughed quietly.

“Lois mentioned you have your own company,” he began and rolled his eyes when Bruce snorted. “I haven’t looked you up for today, sue me. But you didn’t mind so far, so you’re not allowed to do so now.”

He crossed his arms and jutted his chin in an almost daring way, but Bruce just wiggled his brows and told him to carry on.

“Do you like it? Being a CEO, I mean. Or would you like to do something else instead?”

For the first time that night, Clark saw a sudden dark shadow  cross over the man’s face. It was only a brief moment, though Clark noticed the change in Bruce’s smiling eyes. He looked reserved.

“I am indeed enjoying it,” he spoke slowly as if he was formulating the sentences in his mind first. “Some aspects are less fun than others and I work a lot, but I also can include whatever I want to my job. I founded the Wayne foundation, which offers scholarships and supports the citizen in need. Helping others is what I really want to do.”

“That’s amazing,” Clark managed to say and blinked in surprise about the honest reply. The more he talked to Bruce, the more he felt like there was a whole different man hiding under the covers of the playboy billionaire. Bruce really seemed to care for his city and the people.

“My turn again,” Bruce said and without missing a beat, he smiled again. “Are you currently single?”

“I’m sorry?” he managed to ask dumbfoundedly. He was getting whiplash from that mood.

“Are you taken?” Bruce replied patiently, looking kindly at him. “Because I’d really like to go on a date with you.”

For a moment, Clark was at loss of words, silently staring at the tall man in front of him while processing his question. Did he really–? He couldn’t. Clearly, Clark was dreaming. It was Lois, Bruce had tried to impress a few days. Not him. Not boring Clark Kent from Kansas.

“Do you always date journalists you barely know?”

A deep laugh followed his question and Bruce raised his left eyebrow, obviously amused.

“You didn’t answer my question. But no. We do things a little differently in Gotham.”

And for a few moments, Clark felt the fluttering in his stomach explode while the swarm of butterflies in his intestines went loose. His throat was dry when he gulped in disbelief, though he had heard the firm voice, had seen Bruce’s lips move.

He spent an eternity screaming internally to himself, because Bruce fucking Wayne wanted to date him! Bruce. Wayne. Who was not only absurdly handsome, but also kind and genuine and sincere and intelligent. Clark would have kissed him.

But suddenly, another image flashed through his mind. There was another man in his life, someone he had actual feelings for, not just a small crush after a little but of talking and flirting and smiling at each other.

B .

It wouldn’t be fair to him. Clark knew that and the realisation hurt more than he had wished. Still, B deserved to get a chance, Clark deserved to get a chance to at least find out if they could become more than … whatever they currently were. Acquaintances maybe. Friends. Some kind of fucked up lovers.

Clark cleared his throat.

“I can’t go on a date with you. There’s already someone I really like.”

“Are they with you tonight?” Bruce asked and raised his brows while the smile vanished from his lips.

Clark shivered. “No, I’m alone. But I wouldn’t want to ... It would feel like cheating.”

“ Like cheating?”

It was obvious that Bruce didn’t know how to take the statement and tried to stay calm, but a low growl was escaping his throat. Clark couldn’t hold it against him; he didn’t even know himself how he was supposed to feel.

“It’s complicated,” he tried to explain despite knowing he didn’t owe Bruce any explanation. “It’s hard to explain, but there is something and– I just can’t.”

“As far as I’m concerned,” Bruce replied, relaxing again, “I own the paper you work for. I could easily make it a work dinner, Mr. Kent.”

Clark just had to laugh, running his hands through his short hair. “You don’t accept a no, Mr. Wayne, do you?”

Bruce laughed quietly and his gaze softened. “Just tell me it’s not because of me. You like men, right? If not, I truly apologize for assuming it. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He seemed genuinely interested and worried at the same time. Clark couldn’t help but shake his head, a light feeling around his heart.

“No, it’s not– I am gay!” he protested instinctively raising his voice and felt his cheeks warming up, clearly blushing on front of Bruce fucking Wayne. Since when did he have to defend his sexuality.

“That’s good to hear,” Bruce said seemingly amused.

“And … you? Are you,” Clark gulped, “interested in men?”

“I do. And I like women,” Bruce replied sincerely and tilted his head, smiling again now. “But know that I’m exclusive when I decide to date someone, Clark.”

“That’s good to know,” Clark whispered though he was tempted to just say yes . It sounded honest and yet Bruce managed to say it in such a casual way. He could have been easily talking about the weather instead.

But maybe that was a sign. He may not know much about the man in front of him, but Lois had called him a playboy. And Jason, though he could have been joking, had asked whether Clark had turned down Bruce before. Being the journalist he was, he found it quite easy to sense a pattern in Bruce’s casual question.

When he opened his mouth, he could already see that Bruce knew his answer. He still spoke it, ignoring the suddenly shuttered look Bruce gave him.

“I still can’t go on a date with you. I’m so sorry, I’d have wanted to, but I just can’t. It’s –”

Bruce shushed him, fingers briefly stroking his cheek. It was a soft touch and Clark would have loved to lean into it, but it was as ephemeral as a shooting star and sooner than he preferred, he felt the cold air hitting his skin again, washing away the delicate memory of a touch he wasn’t supposed to receive.

“You are still getting an appointment for the interview. I’ll let my PA know to schedule it asap. Don’t want to keep you waiting on that.”

And then he walked away, leaving Clark on the balcony, the suit jacket still slung around his shoulders. Clark raised his head and stared into the dark sky, ignoring the raindrops caressing his cheeks.

He felt miserable. No gargoyles were watching over him, just as Bruce had predicted.

Chapter Text

It was Lois, who found him outside on the balcony, quietly sitting on the stone railing. He was staring at his hands and tried to stay calm. He couldn't shake off the strange feeling that was sitting in his stomach.

Maybe it had been a mistake to turn Bruce down, maybe he should have accepted the offer and seen where it would have gone to. Bruce was interested, he was bisexual, but that didn't mean they would become a couple and fall deeply in love. He still had a lump in his throat when he thought of the sad look in Bruce's eyes before he had left. 

Yeah. He was an idiot.

Clark bit down on his lip and gulped, trying to suppress the tears that were forming in his eyes, but found himself in an unexpected embrace, breathing in the familiar fragrance of Lois' perfume. His best friend held him close, slowly stroking her hand over his back while her chin rested on his shoulder.

"I was worried when I couldn't find you, darling. What happened? Are you not feeling well?"

Her voice was full of concern and love. Feeling the safety of her presence, he finally felt the tears streaming down his cheeks, leaving hot trails on his skin. He was pathetic, crying over a man he barely knew while his main problem should have been he hardly knew, but who he'd been communicating with the past three months through frequent video calls. But B still hadn’t  replied to his message and Clark was beginning to feel insecure about it.

"Oh no, don't cry, sweetie!" Lois whispered and patted his back to comfort him, which made him cry even more. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and tried to calm down, but it didn't help. He just felt embarrassingly helpless and vulnerable.

A second set of arms was slung around his body and he felt another broad body pressing itself against his back. Clark was tempted to raise his head and identify the sudden company, but then he recognised the soft voice muttering soothingly and he relaxed into Conner's arms and fell apart. Conner was right behind him, holding him close, listening to his crying and Lois' reassurances that they wouldn't leave him, until Clark had no tears left.

When he finally looked up from under his eyelashes, sheepishly giving them a weak smile, Lois offered him a tissue. Clark took it with a slight nod and wiped his eyes – red and puffy and certainly dreadful – to dry his tears, before he blew his nose audibly. On a normal day, she would joke about him being an elephant, but tonight she stayed quiet and only gave him a small kiss on his cheek.

"Let's go home, bae," she decided with a caring smile and took his hand. "We've had enough for today. I don't want any man to ever look at me again."

"That's not fair, Lo! I'm no creep, you can't say that about every man!" Conner pouted next to Clark.

"You're not a man. You're a puppy and I love you," she decided and patted Conner's cheek. "Now help us find my car. I'll give you an extra tip."

Conner had one of his arms still slung around Clark's waist and held him close. Clark was glad he could let himself be guided to the exit without thinking about their way at all. In retrospect, he didn't even remember walking through the foyer or keeping his eyes on the ground to avoid Mr. Wayne, if they even walked past him. He only felt Conner next to him and heard the light chatting about someone called Tim, clearly to distract him from the event.

He was put into the car with the promise they would call if Conner should come over, and seconds later Lois was driving away with him toward their apartment. Clark leaned his head against the window, eyes closed and burning from the exhaustion and the tears, and he was thankful that Lois stayed quiet and concentrated on driving. It gave him the time he needed to sort through the chaos in his head. His thoughts were a mess he needed to clean. But not today.

When he opened his eyes the next time, Lois was helping him lay down in his bed. His shoes were removed, trousers followed and then she took off the two suit jackets from his shoulders, only briefly hesitating before putting them down next to him. He managed to get out of the suit vest and shirt himself and fell into the pillows with a soft whine, pulling the covers over his body.

The next second, he was asleep, nose buried in the jacket Bruce had given him, inhaling the musky fragrance. 

“Rise and shine, motherfucker!”

Clark groaned into his pillow, face pressing into the soft fabric, when his brother’s cheerful voice ripped him right out of his dreams. The haze of sleep was slowly lifting off his mind while a body crashed on top of him, robbing him of the ability to breathe for a moment.

"C'mon Clark! We need to get you out of bed and right into the city life!" Conner mewled and pulled on his arm, still laying flat on Clark. "Lois told me to get you out of the apartment today. And I'm gonna warn you, I've been to the gym a lot. I can probably drag you out of the bed and throw you under the shower myself if I need to!"

Clark could feel Conner dragging on his arm with more fervor once his brother was standing on the ground again, and Clark made sure to make himself heavier, secretly holding onto the mattress with his free arm. He wasn't going to be thrown out of his own bed by his noisy brother.

His instinct was to bury himself under every blanket he could find and hide from the world until he would feel better. But of course, Lois had foreseen that, she simply knew how he dealt with bad days.

As expected, Conner ended up pulling on Clark's arm without moving him an inch and gave up quickly, staring down at Clark with a cute pout on his lips. Clark smiled at him, watching the boy out of the corner of his eye. Not suspicious at all, he decided when he smiled at Conner's eyeroll and turned his head in his direction to blink lazily at him.

"Fine!" Conner grumbled. "Maybe I won't throw you under the shower. But could you stand up, please? I promised Lois I'd take you out as soon as you wake up."

Clark groaned again and rubbed his eyes. He had thought that he could use the morning to sleep and stare at the wall doing nothing since Lois was at work, but his best friend had made other plans, obviously. Clark knew what she was trying to do; she was getting him out of the apartment and send his brother with him, so he wouldn't have much time to mope about yesterday. Darn it.  She knew him too well.

"Oh please?" Conner begged with big puppy eyes. "She even left us a list with ideas and small tasks we need to do. Like walking around the park or enjoying the new café around the corner."

"You really wanna do this?" Clark asked again, making sure. He was still hesitating but already stretching his sleep-sore muscles.

Conner’s face lit up. "Of course I wanna! This is going to be so much fun! Besides, it's almost noon so you gotta getcha ass out of bed anyway."

With a wince, Clark got up and stumbled out of his bedroom, dragging himself to the kitchen. Now that he was standing, his head started throbbing. He yearned for some painkillers and coffee to get started with his day. Conner followed him closely and kept babbling words that didn't make any sense to Clark yet.

Being an angel, Lois had started the coffee maker before leaving the flat. It was an old one, a filter machine that took quite some time to fill the big pot with steady, hot drops of the black liquid and Clark had often promised to replace it with a better one but never gotten to it. The prepared coffee wasn't steaming hot anymore and Clark managed to down the first cup in a few gulps.

Conner managed to sneak a cup of coffee for himself, drowning the black liquid in more milk than Clark had ever seen, before he put four teaspoons of sugar in it and sipped at his creation slowly. Conner smiled.

"Just right," he announced and leaned his butt against the counter to raise his brows questioningly at Clark. "So, I'd say you hop under the shower while I try to find some cute clothes for you. Do you still have the leather jacket Jason got you for Christmas? We could match!"

"Should be in my wardrobe," Clark muttered and rubbed his temples.

Lois had left the painkillers with the coffee and Clark took one of the pills, swallowing it with a second cupThen, he took the list that was pinned to the fridge and scanned their tasks for the day. Late breakfast in a nice café, a walk through the park, ice cream, relaxed shopping through bookshops and Conner's favourite stores before they would meet Lois in a restaurant for an early dinner.

Clark groaned internally. He had to make another video in the evening, he simply wasn't in the mood just yet. He really needed a slow day or else he wouldn't be able to concentrate on the show and B, with Bruce spooking around in his head.

Leaving Conner to choose his clothing, Clark disappeared into the bathroom and took an urgently needed shower. He stood under the spray for a while, feeling the warm water washing away the ache in his muscles and the throbbing of his head. He showered a little longer than necessary before he wrapped a towel around his hips and took care of his face. He shaved, treated his skin with aftershave and his hair with styling paste and by the time he stepped out of the bathroom, Conner had already chosen an outfight -- tight black jeans, his favourite hoodie (black with a yellow Batman symbol, also one of his favourite comic book characters from his youth) and a pair of black Dr. Martens. Together with the leather jacket, he almost looked like a bigger version of Conner.

Right before they left, Clark changed his glasses to contact lenses. It took a moment since he wasn't used to them, but he managed to put them in safely. Conner grinned happily at him.

Clark tried to leave the memories of last night at home when he stepped out of the door and concentrate on Conner, on the busy city around him. He watched the strangers hurry past him and a few ambitious people jogging around the corner and Conner laughed at a woman arguing with her dog.

They chose to walk to the sweet café Lois had put on the list instead of taking a taxi. Clark found himself enjoying the mild weather. It was warm, but not hot and he could easily wear his hoodie without sweating.

It turned out Lois had even made a reservation for them when they got to the café, and within minutes they were already enjoying tea and warm cupcakes for breakfast.

The food was delicious and Clark couldn't help but moan in pleasure. He took a picture of the bagel that followed and sent it to Lois as she had asked for, while Conner took care of a big plate of English breakfast, with scrambled eggs, grilled tomatoes and mushrooms, beans, sausages, toast and black pudding.

Spending time with his brother turned out to be great fun. Conner was telling him about his plans for college and his work for Jason's father, about Jason’s crush on a hot police officer from Blüdhaven, and how he got to know the infamous Dick Grayson when he stumbled over him in the shower, naked and shameless, while Jason had blushed hard enough to be seen from space.

Clark laughed until he cried tears of joy. And when they finally left the café, he started feeling better already. Who needed a billionaire to woo them when one could have a brother like Conner and a best friend like Lois?

They were walking through the nearby park, which was also on Lois' list, when Conner made Clark hold his ice cream for a moment. He pulled out his phone and turned away from Clark to type a message, but Clark had already seen the smile on his face. It was the same he had seen during breakfast when Conner had snapped a picture and sent it to someone.

Clark decided he should definitely ask about it.

"So, got any news on your side?" He tried to be subtle and gave Conner his ice cream cone back. He couldn't suppress the smirk forming on his lips.

"Did Jason tell ya?" Conner snorted and rolled his eyes while he blushed.

"You're smiling at your phone like a lovesick teenager. It's not that hard to guess," Clark shrugged. He wrapped an arm around Conner's shoulders and waited until they could cross the street. "Tell me about them?"

Blowing air out of his cheeks, Conner groaned and pulled Clark from the sidewalk to the other side of the street before he took a quick look at their list and hummed at their next stop. A bookshop. That wasn't hard to find.

"Fine," Conner snapped. "I'm going to tell you, but don't tell Lois. I'm begging you. She gets way too curious and starts researching and I don't need that. Jason is annoying enough."

"That doesn't sound like Jason," Clark noticed and frowned, but Conner shrugged.

"I'm kinda .. flirting with his younger brother? His name's Tim and he's seventeen– hey, don't laugh!"

Despite the wounded look Conner gave him, Clark was already laughing again. It was just comical how his brother seemed to get involved with Jason's family more and more. And of course it had to be a seventeen year old boy who was most likely still in High School. Was he even allowed to date yet? Was he even out?

"I'm just– that's so good," Clark wheezed and let his fingers wander through his hair, his other arm still around Conner's shoulders. "What does Jason say about it? Have you had your first date yet?"

Conner growled deeply, but it wasn't threatening at all. Clark could only see the puppy in him, no matter what he was wearing.

"Not yet," he admitted, "though Jason thinks I should ask him out. Marry him, pop' his cherry, get him pregnant - in that order. I'm not sure about the last part, but…"

"But you've thought about marrying him before the actual act?" Clark suggested and grinned softly at the lovestruck expression on Conner's face. He must have it hard for this boy Clark could tell, and he was happy for his brother.

"I mean– if Tim wants to marry me? Why not," Conner replied and bit his lip. "I mean, we'd need to date first. See how it goes. But eventually, I could definitely marry him first before we do that. Relationships shouldn't be about how's the sex and who can fuck me the best and if it's not ten out of ten would recommend I’m gonna dump you."

Conner snorted and rolled his eyes, before he stopped walking and looked up at Clark, almost pouting. "But I'm not sure what to say. I wanna go on a date, but…. It's scary. What if he says no?"

With a soft smile, Clark grabbed Conner's shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. His gaze flickered to the big windows of a shop right behind Conner, and within nanoseconds, a stupid plan was already forming in his head. Why the fuck not, he thought when he saw the curvy letters in the window, promoting the piercing studio and he dove right into it.

“Remember that you dared me to get piercings a while ago? And I didn't cause it was a stupid idea?"

He could see the confusion as Conner nodded and frowned.

"That's not true. I loved the idea and couldn't stop thinking about it for weeks, but I was too afraid of the pain," he continued and cleared his throat.

He held onto Conner's shoulder while he turned his brother around towards the studio, resting his chin on Conner's left shoulder. Conner was almost as tall as he was.

"What if I get them today. And after that, you'll ask Tim out on a date. I could even help with the planning."

For a moment, Conner was frozen right in front of Clark, staring through the reflection in the window at him as if he'd told him that he was a camboy. Which – irony – he was. Clark smiled, relaxed and hummed, eyes sparkling excitement.

"You'd really want to do that? You're not shitting me?"

"Nope," Clark shook his head at his brothers disbelief. "Sounds like fun. Let's get them pierced and invite Tim on a date."

Conner laughed hysterically. "Lois will kill us."

"Most likely," Clark could only agree, but waggled his brows. "I still wanna do it. You're down?"

With a smirk, Conner grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the entry. “Fuck, yes. Let's do this!”

Clark was back in his bedroom, kneeling on his bed while his gaze was fixed on the chat and a smile appeared his lips. He had showered and changed into a thin long-shirt that fell loosely around his defined body, showing a glimpse of the black lace slip he tried to hide under the white fabric.

He had already chatted about his day for a while, waiting for his viewers to log in before he would start. So far, nobody had made a donation, but Clark wasn’t concerned about it. They soon would pay him enough money to get out of his clothes.

“Some of you might remember that I’ve told you about my little brother before and how he dared me to get a piercing?” Clark changed the topic, fingers stroking over his flat stomach while he bit his lower lip.

bigdixk: Fuuuuuck you didn’t

starcitydaddy : did you get one

chriis94 : where

Following the incoming comments, he leaned back and pushed the shirt up, just enough to reveal his crotch and the bulge that was forming against the black slip. He winked and watched the chat explode in excitement, happily guessing the position of his new jewelry, clearly focussed on the lower areas of his body.

“I actually got two,” he added and blushed thinking about it. What would B say about his surprise? They normally didn’t talk about his performance in details, but he was curious whether he could get a reaction out of the mysterious man. He was even looking forward to their chat later.

callmealex : show

goldentyler : wanna see it baby

buckkk78 : god youre so hot

goldentyler : take off ur clothes

He got the notification of a donation and pushed the shirt a bit more up, showing the tanned skin of his stomach. A few viewers were disappointed about the lack of a navel piercing and Clark smirked at the comments, having thought about one as well some years ago.

“Think that would look good on me?” he asked the camera and brought his free hand up to his stomach, circling his navel with his thumb. “I would like that, I think. Even more reasons to kiss my belly button,” he added with a hum. "Not that there aren't enough yet."

His eyes fell down on his body, watching his own actions. Holding the shirt in place with one hand, he teasing the crowd when he rubbed over his groin or bit down on his lip. His hips twitched a bit, he got definitely bigger in the slip, straining the lace. The fabric of his shirt was constantly wandering higher up until he stopped right under his nipples again and stared back into the camera.

"Wanna pull my shirt up, daddy?" Clark whispered.

Not even a second later, the money poured in again and Clark smiled at the screen of his laptop to catch the name- callmealex .

"Thank you, Alex," he purred and spread his legs wider, offering more of his private parts to the camera, still kneeling on the bed.

Instead of taking off his shirt, he pushed the shirt all the way up to his neck and held it in his hand and yes, right there in his round nubs were the freshly inserted bars, piercing through his sensitive nipples. He still couldn't believe it, but then again, he had the softly pulsing pain to tell him otherwise.

The compliments flooded the chat and he couldn't keep up anymore, but thanked his viewers anyway. Damn, he felt good in his skin again, much better than most of the days. Clark smiled brightly.

"I'm so glad you like them. It took me almost a year to get them, but so far it's definitely worth the pain!"

He took his bottom lip between his teeth and pulled on it softly while he let his fingers stroke over his swollen nubs, barely touching them but still whimpering lightly. It was fairly easy to get the comment he had waited for.

harleyqueen : don't ya wanna cool them, princess?

Uh, yes. He definitely wanted to.

"I've found ice cubes in the freezer," he asked desperately and pulled the bowl filled with big cubes closer to show them into the camera. "I'd love to use them. May I, my Queen?"

She, or at least Clark assumed it was a woman, tipped him without another word and Clark sighed in relief before he picked up the first ice cube. It was already melting slightly, but he managed to hold it firmly while he pressed the cold surface against his abused nipple. Shit. That felt amazing.

He closed his eyes in pleasure and moaned loudly.

It was Sunday afternoon and Clark was laying in Lois' bed, facing his best friend opposite of him. He felt… he wasn't actually sure how he was supposed to feel. Like shit maybe? Because that was reality, again. After an amazing day with his brother and a very good show in the evening, he felt like a trainwreck. His weekend was a roller coaster ride so far, and he didn't believe in fate anymore.

When he closed his eyes again, he was pouting at Lois. For the fifth time possibly, but he wasn't feeling in the mood to be reasonable and act like a grown-up. Today, he wanted to feel childish and selfish and just crappy. He had every right; even his nipple piercings hurt like hell. Somehow, he had slept on them during the night. Accidentally of course. Needless to say, Lois had brought him a cool pack for his chest, but was also not happy about his spontaneous choice to get his nipples pierced.

Right now, Clark was doubting his decision as well. 

But then, there was also another tiny thing that upset him.

"He wasn't there, Lois. He's always watching my shows, but yesterday he wasn't! Why is this happening right after Bruce Wayne wants to go on a date with me and I'm so stupid to tell him no, just cause I had the crazy idea there was something between B and me!"

"I wish I could give you the answers, baby," Lois said with a sigh. "Maybe he has a reason for not showing up. Something unpredictable happened, he had to be at a meeting or an incident in the family maybe."

Lois was a literal angel. She was by his side since he had crawled into her bed the night before, and she had only left his side to order food and disappear to the kitchen or bathroom. He was even allowed to eat on her bed, which was normally reserved for lethal illnesses only.

"Nevertheless, he needs to apologize. And you need to breathe and eat, love. You’ve  barely touched anything today, and I'm worried."

Her voice was soft and Clark sighed, but nodded. The fried noodles with chicken curry were still standing on the nightstand. Giving in, he opened his eyes and sat up, crossing his legs. He felt Lois’ gaze on him as he grabbed the box and the fork and started eating small bits of the still warm food. His stomach grumbled.

"It's just– I don't know what I've done wrong," he murmured between the chicken and looked up to raise his brows at Lois. At least he wasn't crying anymore.

Lois snorted. "You haven't done anything. He's just a jerk and absolutely cancelled from today on. I'll spread the word in the newspaper."

Clark smiled weakly and shoved a few noodles in his mouth. He wasn't really hungry despite his rumbling stomach, but he would keep eating. For Lois. For his health. For world peace. His thoughts drifted off fairly easily and suddenly, he was remembering yesterday again.

He had edged himself more than he should have during the show. Some viewers had been concerned when Clark had carried on talking to them more than usual, checking if his mask had still been in place every other minute. The longer he had waited for B, the more miserable he had felt, until the woman, Harley, had finally told him to end the stream and get some rest.

Clark had complied but waited for B on Skype. He had even sent him a message that was still unread and waiting for a reply. As were the other messages, Clark had send B over the last few days.

He didn't know what he was doing wrong. Why B was ignoring him suddenly? Had he said something off, had he done something wrong? Or had B lost interest in him? Wasn't he enough anymore?

"I'm also calling in sick for you tomorrow. I want you to sleep and eat and get better before you put typos all over your articles again," Lois cut between his silent questions.

Clark blinked before he turned his head and stared at his best friend. She must have left the room and come back, and was now standing next to the bed with ice cream and two spoons in her hands.

"You really don't want me to look him up?" Lois continued and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Maybe I'll find something. It doesn't have to be, but it could help having a face to the name. He could be ugly or living in his parents' basement or… both."

She didn't wait until Clark had finished the curry, but was already opening the ice cream box, dipping her spoon deep into the frozen treat.

Clark couldn't help but grin softly at her.

"Will you kill him when you find out his real name?" He asked his fierce friend and got an eye roll in return.

"I won't," she hummed. "Rough him up a bit, maybe. Definitely crush his nuts, but I won't kill him. He's not worth prison."

She blinked absently for a moment, shook her head and looked back at him with big loyal eyes. A spoon appeared in front of his face.

"Ice cream?"