Chapter Text
Lois
Lois was the type of woman who liked to be prepared. It was something she’d learned growing up with a father in the military, and she applied it to her life in many different ways. One of which being that she liked to finish her holiday shopping well before December. She wasn’t going to be one of those last-minute buyers who braved the apocalyptic hellscape that was any mall, department store, or shopping center in America post-Thanksgiving, and she’d been burned before by shipping delays when she’d tried to order things online a week or two before she needed it.
So it was October, and she was already thinking about what to give Clark for Christmas.
Everyone else in Lois’ life was easy enough to shop for. She always knew what her mother wanted. Her father was content with an expensive bottle of scotch. Her sister always sent her a link to exactly what she wanted, which admittedly took some of the fun out of it, but Lois could appreciate the efficiency.
But Clark. Clark was impossible to shop for. Part of that was due to the fact that he and Lois had been friends for so long that Lois felt like she’d already bought him everything. Part of it was due to Clark’s insistence that he “didn’t need anything, really.” And part of it was due to the fact that men, in general, were always difficult to shop for. Lois had never known what to get her father for Christmases, Father’s Days, and birthdays growing up, until she’d turned twenty-one and had been able to legally purchase alcohol.
After asking Clark what he wanted, which was as useless an endeavor as it always was, and skimming at least a dozen “Holiday Gift Ideas for Men” lists online, Lois resorted to the nuclear option and called Martha Kent.
Lois had interacted with Martha a few times since breaking up with Clark. Martha always called her on her birthday, and she’d called to congratulate Lois when she won the Pulitzer Prize. Martha was a lovely woman, and speaking with her made it immediately clear how Clark had grown up to be such a polite, respectful, and genuinely kind person.
Martha picked up after a few rings. “Hi, Martha, it’s Lois.”
“Lois!” That was something else Lois liked about Martha: She was always happy to hear from her. “How are you? It’s been too long.”
“It has,” Lois agreed. “I’m doing well, thank you for asking.”
“You should come visit,” Martha said, as she always did. “Just because you and Clark aren’t dating doesn’t mean you’re not still welcome here anytime.”
Lois still thought it would be a little bit awkward to spend time with her ex-boyfriend’s parents, even though they were also her best friend’s parents, so she’d never taken Martha up on this offer. But maybe now that Clark was dating someone else – his soulmate, no less – Lois could visit Martha and Jonathan as “Clark’s friend” and not “Clark’s ex.”
“Thank you, Martha,” Lois said. “I’ll see if I can find time. I do miss your home-cooked meals.” Neither of Lois’ parents had ever been very talented cooks, and neither was Lois herself. Clark was more than decent, but he wasn’t as good as his mother.
“Was there anything you needed from me, dear?” Martha asked.
“Actually,” Lois said, tucking the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she typed away at her computer, working on an article even though it was the weekend, “There was. The holidays are coming up and I’m trying to figure out what on earth to get Clark. You know how difficult he is to shop for.”
“You know, I was just thinking about that last week,” Martha said. “Every year he tells me I don’t have to get him anything—”
“He tells me that too!” Lois commiserated.
“And I tell him, ‘I’m your mother, I’m not going to get you nothing for Christmas, so you’d better give me some ideas.’ And then the ideas he gives me are boring things like new sweaters and socks. No one wants socks for Christmas.”
Lois laughed. “Clark might,” she said. “He’s very practical.”
“Too practical.”
“I could always take him somewhere,” Lois said, thinking aloud. “A weekend trip. We could go to New York and see a show.”
There was a Broadway musical Clark hadn’t stopped talking about since one of their colleagues at the Daily Planet had reviewed it. Lois had told him he should see if Batman wanted to see it with him, since they were dating and all, and Clark had reacted as though Lois had just suggested he take Batman on a romantic date to an ongoing military conflict.
“He’s not a big theater person,” Clark had said.
“I’m sure he could sit through a couple hours of singing for his boyfriend,” Lois retorted. Sure, it tracked with what she knew about Batman that the guy wouldn’t be a fan of musicals, but relationships were supposed to be about compromise.
“I’m not gonna ask him to do that,” Clark told her, and that was the end of that.
“I’m sure he’d love that,” Martha said. “I know he enjoyed it when you took him to see Hamilton.”
Lois had secured those tickets through one of her connections in New York when Hamilton was the hit new musical. They’d been expensive as hell, and Clark had tried to pay her back, but she had refused, because she could be just as stubborn as he was.
“Alright,” Lois decided. “That’s what I’ll do. Thank you, Martha.”
“Of course,” Martha replied. “Do you have time to tell me what you’ve been up to lately? I’d love to hear more about my favorite Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist.”
“Will I still be your favorite after Clark wins one?” Lois teased.
“You’ll be a close second.”
“I’ll take it.” Lois couldn’t help smiling. “I don’t know if you read my follow-up article about the effect the transition of power had on organized crime in Gotham—”
She talked for several minutes about her recent and ongoing work, until she’d gotten into the weeds and realized she was probably giving too much detail for someone who wasn’t a fellow journalist. To her credit, Martha didn’t sound bored. “As usual, Lois, you continue to amaze me,” she said. “And you know I’m so grateful Clark has a friend like you out there in Metropolis. I know he’s grateful too.”
“He’s done just as much for me as I have for him. Probably more.” What with all the times Clark had literally saved her life.
“If you don’t mind me asking, have you met that new boyfriend of his?”
Oh, boy. Lois had known this was coming. Of course Martha would want to ask Clark’s best friend (and ex-girlfriend) for her perspective on Clark’s love life. Lois didn’t know what Clark had told Martha about who he was dating, and she had to be careful not to give anything away that Martha might not already know.
“I haven’t,” Lois said. Which wasn’t entirely the truth, because she had met Batman, but she hadn’t interacted with him since he and Clark had started dating, so it was enough of the truth that she didn’t feel like she was lying.
“It’s just that I’ve been trying to convince Clark to bring him and his son with him when he visits for Thanksgiving. He keeps telling me their relationship isn’t serious enough for that. I don’t know what he means by that; they’re soulmates!”
Lois didn’t say anything about how Clark and his boyfriend probably weren’t at the “Thanksgiving with the parents” stage of their relationship just four months in – Clark had told Lois that he and Batman had agreed to take it slow – because something else Martha said caught her attention.
Batman had a son?
Maybe Clark had told Martha that Robin was Batman’s son. Hell, maybe Robin was Batman’s son. “I didn’t even know his boyfriend had a son, so you’re one step ahead of me.”
“You didn’t?” Martha sounded surprised. “I would have thought you’d have looked into him. Being a reporter and all. There’s plenty of information out there about him; even I was able to find it. He seems to be quite famous.”
Martha’s words made something click in Lois’ mind. Something she couldn’t believe hadn’t clicked before.
Martha didn’t know Clark was dating Batman, because Clark hadn’t told her. Clark had given her Batman’s other identity, his secret identity. Someone who was famous, and wealthy enough to bankroll a vigilante lifestyle. Someone who lived in Gotham. Someone who had a son. Someone who had a traumatic childhood experience that would make him want to avoid the theater. Maybe even someone Clark had flirted with in the past.
Suddenly it all made sense. Lois felt like an idiot. Of course that’s who he was.
“I’ll do some research,” Lois said quickly, realizing all at once that she needed to end her call with Martha so she could talk to Clark. “I’m afraid I need to get going. It was lovely talking to you.”
She hung up and immediately dialed Clark.
“What’s up?” Clark said, sounding friendly and casual. God, he had no idea.
“Are you free?”
Clark picked up on the urgency in Lois’ voice, and said, “I can be. What do you need?”
“I need to talk to you in person.”
“Be right there.”
Clark was at Lois’ door in minutes. “What’s going on?” he asked when Lois let him in.
“Did you tell your mother the identity of the man you’re dating thinking it wouldn’t get back to me?” Lois asked, skipping past the bullshit and aiming straight for the heart of the matter. “Or were you just waiting for the two of us to finally talk so I could figure it out from her?”
Clark looked guilty. “Honestly,” he said, “I thought you would have figured it out by now on your own.”
“I didn’t look into it because I didn’t think you’d want me to. I was trying to respect your – and his – privacy.” Now that Lois knew who Batman was, there was no doubt in her mind that she could have figured it out on her own. But she hadn’t tried to, because she was a good friend.
“Thank you,” Clark said sincerely. “We both appreciate that.”
Lois couldn’t be mad at him. It wasn’t as though she’d actually expected him to reveal Batman’s secret identity to her just because Clark was dating him. But it was still a shock. She shook her head. “Bruce Wayne?” she said incredulously.
Clark huffed out a laugh. “Yeah.”
“When you said he’s a ten out of ten, I thought you meant ‘regular person ten,’ not ‘literal celebrity ten.’” Of course Clark, biologically perfect as he was, had managed to land that . “You’re dating Bruce Wayne. Is he—?” Lois cut herself off, not sure if what she was about to ask was out of bounds.
“Just say it,” Clark told her. He knew.
“I’m sorry. I have to. Is he as good as they say?”
“Yes.”
Well, hey. Good for Clark. “And you’re telling me that man dresses up like a bat to fight crime by night. Bruce Wayne does that.” Lois was full of questions. “No wonder he can afford all those high-tech gadgets. Now you have to tell me the whole story. How did you find out who he was? What was his reaction? When do I get to meet him? Does his kid like you? His kid is Robin, right?”
Hal
Okay, so maybe Hal had been wrong about Batman and Superman.
It had been about a year since Hal had first gotten the idea in his head that Batman and Superman were together, and then told Barry about it, and the rumor had ended up spreading to the entire superhero community. Which hadn’t been Hal’s intention. Really. He wasn’t trying to drive Batman crazy. At least, not this time.
But he had been so certain about it! The way Batman acted around Superman, it was different from how Hal had seen him act around anyone else. Batman could be a cold, calculating bitch most of the time, but around Superman, he practically melted. And back then, they’d trained together all the goddamn time. Their teamwork was already better than any other two superheroes in the Justice League; in the universe, probably. What did they need to do so much training for? It had to just be an excuse for the two of them to spend time together. Maybe those training sessions were actually secret sexual liaisons. Far be it from Hal to judge a couple guys wanting to get down and dirty in orbit. He’d done weirder.
But then the training sessions had abruptly stopped – probably, Hal would admit, as a result of the aforementioned rumors, because God forbid anyone think of Batman as a person with feelings and relationships – and the rumors had died down. And everyone was blaming Hal for starting them. Which, again, hadn’t been his intention. He’d just wanted to confide his suspicions in his good friend Barry Allen. And then in the rest of the Green Lantern Corps. And maybe in a few other people besides that.
Totally not his fault.
Even though they were no longer training together, Batman and Superman still acted differently around each other. Whatever was going on between them, they were definitely closer than they used to be. They’d reconciled their differences and learned to trust each other. Batman didn’t throw a fit every time Superman saved his life or flew him somewhere. Batman even made jokes sometimes, and Superman would laugh at them, while the rest of the League looked on in shock, trying to absorb the revelation that Batman had a sense of humor.
In short, Batman wasn’t as grim and dark and emotionless as he used to be. And it seemed like Superman had something to do with it.
But maybe they weren’t together. Maybe Hal had overreacted. They could just be good friends. Might’ve even swapped secret identities; Hal swore some of their inside jokes sounded like they knew a lot more about each other than anyone else did.
This was the conclusion Hal had come to when he was on monitor duty on the Watchtower one day, which always sucked, especially when Barry didn’t have monitor duty with him. Hal swore Batman coordinated the schedules specifically to keep Hal and Barry apart, because apparently they “spent more time fucking around than doing their jobs” when they were together. Which Hal objected to. He and Barry were capable of fucking around and doing their jobs at the same time, thank you very much.
Hal handed off monitor duty to J’onn, who came to relieve him when Hal’s shift was up, and was headed for the nearest airlock when he swore he heard something. He crept around to investigate, following the source of the noise. It was coming from down the hall and around the corner, a part of the Watchtower that led to some storage rooms where hardly anyone ever went.
Hal floated over so whoever (or whatever) had made the sound wouldn’t hear his footsteps. And then he peeked around the corner.
And, boy, did he feel vindicated.
It was Batman and Superman. Superman had crowded Batman up against a wall, and they were currently glued together at the mouth, like a couple of horny teenagers under the bleachers. Superman had his arms bracketing the sides of Batman’s head, and Batman had a fistful of Superman’s cape and his other hand in Superman’s hair. They looked really into it. It was definitely not their first time.
Hal probably should have left quietly. That was the polite thing to do. But no one had ever accused Hal Jordan of being polite.
He landed on his feet and gasped, a little obnoxiously. Superman prised himself away from Batman, looking at Hal with his eyebrows raised in expectation. Like he’d known Hal was there. (He did have super senses.) But if he’d known, why had he kept on making out with Batman? Did he just not care?
“I knew it,” Hal said triumphantly. “I knew there was something going on between the two of you. But damn, making out on the Watchtower? Where anybody could walk in on you? That’s risky business. If the rest of the League heard about this, you’d never live it down.”
“You could tell the rest of the Justice League,” Batman said, an almost unsettling edge of humor in his gravelly voice. “But no one would believe you.”
Hal considered this. Batman was right. After being accused once of spreading false rumors about Batman and Superman, no one would believe Hal if he said he’d caught the two of them making out outside the storage rooms. They’d think he was making it all up.
Hal had walked in on the juiciest piece of gossip anyone in the superhero community had ever seen, and he was going to have to keep it to himself.
He couldn’t even be mad. It was a stroke of genius. He shook his head and grinned. “You sly dog,” he said, not sure which one of them he was referring to. Both of them, probably. They were a team, after all. And a couple, too, apparently. “I was right, though. That’s good enough for me.”
“Actually,” Superman corrected him, “We weren’t together yet when you spread those rumors about us.”
Damn. So he had been wrong. Well, not completely. He’d noticed sexual tension between Batman and Superman. He just hadn’t realized it was sexual tension of the unresolved variety.
That didn’t make him “wrong,” per se. Just… preemptively right.
And then another thought occurred to him, even better than the idea of him foreseeing Batman and Superman’s relationship. Maybe his rumors had been what led them to get together. Or been part of it, anyway. “Did you guys get together because of me?” he asked, grinning even wider.
“Absolutely not,” Batman said, all traces of humor gone from his voice. He was sounding a lot more normal now.
“You got together because of me,” Hal repeated, definitively this time.
“Hal, no—”
“When people eventually find out about this,” Hal pointed at them, “I’m going to tell everyone I’m the guy who matchmade Batman and Superman.”
He turned and walked to the airlock with a new swagger in his step. He was never going to let them live this down.