Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bruce stared at the counter in total disbelief. That could not be right. There was no way.

He hadn't had a hysterectomy, sure. But he'd had top surgery and been on hormones for years. There was no possible way he could be actually pregnant.

But the five separate positive tests on the counter were glaringly obvious.

Technically he could have possibly got pregnant but it was statistically impossible. Who would it even have been from, one of the hookups for his Brucie persona surely.

But he usually went for women, and even then didn't actually typically get to actual sex, to avoid being outed.

Expect… there was that random guy he did actually sleep with.

Fuck.

Surely he couldn't actually be pregnant.

He stared at the sixth untaken.test in the box. He nearly had a whole box worth of positive tests.

…

He stared at the six positive tests on the counter. Eye twitching. This couldn't fucking be right.

He jumped as there was a gentle knock at the door.

“Master Wayne?”

Bruce sank to the floor of his bathroom, pressing his palms into his eyes. “What Alfred?”

“You've been in there for an hour. Are you hiding another Injury?”

Bruce huffed out a slight laugh. “I can say with total truthfulness for once I am not injured, Alfred.”

A sigh came from the other side of the door. “May I come in?”

Bruce pressed his hands harder against his eyes. Letting Alfred in couldn't hurt. “Fine.”

The door was pushed open and Alfred walked in, eyes falling on Bruce on the floor. “Master Wayne… what is-.... Ah.”

Bruce glanced up, following Alfred's gaze to the counter full of positive pregnancy tests.

There was so much he could say. So much he needed to say.

An explanation, that he was scared, or to just yell.

Instead he settled on. “....Wanna be a grandpa?” In a slightly shaky tone of voice.

Alfred stared at him. “Come again master Wayne?”

Bruce whacked his head back against the counter “I'm fucking pregnant! Fucking…. Child! I…. “ He trailed off, whacking his head again.

Alfred stuck a hand behind Bruce's head, both stopping him from whacking it once more, and also running fingers through his hair in comfort.

The man crouched down, gently tugging Bruce into a hug, rubbing his back.

About a week had passed from when he found out and Bruce was… coping.

He was mainly ignoring the fact it existed. There still wasn't any real sign of a bump, perhaps a cryptic pregnancy, so for that he was grateful.

He was likely around 10 weeks with no real visible physical changes.

Everything else was shit however. He was sleeping badly, mainly due to stress, hadn't eaten much, everything sounded nauseating, and his temper was on a short fuse.

Luckily most of the league could take a hint and left him alone when he happened to be around them, apart from necessary stuff for missions, and Diana reminding him he could talk to her if he needed.

Then Clark walked over. “Uhm.. Batman”

Bruce fought the urge to groan immediately. “What.”

The other winced slightly. “Well uh… I'm concerned you might have a parasite or something from the last time we went up into space.”

That got Bruce's attention. Any anger at being interrupted completely disappearing as he sat up straighter.

“Why? What kind of parasite?”

The super sighed “I'm not sure. I can hear a second heart beat echoing you. I'm not sure what it is, however. Seems to be roughly around your abdomen”

A second heartbeat. That surely wasn't good.

He ran through every known parasitic alien, but he couldn't place when he might have been got by anything.

Around the abdomen, that could be…

Oh fuck.

That would be the baby's heartbeat. Clark was hearing the baby's heartbeat.

Bruce froze. How the fuck would he explain that it infact was not a parasite without both outing himself and admitting he was pregnant.

“Can I scan you? If I use my X-Ray vision I can probably work it out or at least narrow it down”

“No.”

The man blanched clearly not expecting the blatant rejection. “I… batman. We don't know what it is. It could be dangerous, you could die, please.”

Bruce felt a clawing sense of guilt at the clear worry in Clarks voice. He couldn't blame him, the situation sounded really concerning.

But he couldn't exactly just explain he's pregnant.

“You aren't fucking scanning me. I know what it is and it's being dealt with. Just… shut up for five seconds would you?” Bruce snapped, immediately regretting it as Clark frowned, looking hurt.

“I… right…Sorry..just… Let me know if it changes.”

Bruce was left sitting there, not only nauseous and having a mild mental breakdown, but also feeling incredibly guilty by now.

The clawing feeling of guilt was still settled low in his stomach by the time they were called in for a mission.

A simple one really, a few aliens that really weren't too skilled. A bit of fighting and a few scrapes later they were done, most of the team seperated to help clean up, while Batman was on one of the roofs, analysing what he could to find data on the aliens.

And then Clark landed next to him, standing silently for a minute .

Bruce glanced up, an apology he couldn't bring himself to give on the tip of his tongue.

He gave a grunt, signalling he was listening to the other.

Clark hesitated. “I… look I know you didn't want me to speak more about it. And I'm sorry I pushed earlier. But… there's two heartbeats now. Whatever it is is spreading and… I'm worried. I…”

Bruce groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I told you, I know wha….” Clarks words suddenly computed properly in his brain. “Two?”

Surely Clark was wrong. There weren't two.

“The fuck do you mean two!?” He hissed

There could not be two, that would mean it was twins. Nope, fuck no.

Clark began to look even more concerned if that was possible. Face softening, almost as if he was talking to a scared animal.

“There's two additional heartbeats to yours, Bats.”

“Hah … no….no there fucking ain't… that… no.”

Bruce made a series of incoherent noise, including a lot of swears. This could not be fucking happening. He did not have twins.

“Batman… your.. heartbeat” Clark paused before murmering “You're… scared?”

“I am not fucking scared just…. Just shut the fuck up” He snarled driving his hands into his eyes, fighting the urge to scream.

He was sure he looked a right mess, probably on the verge of tears.

Clark stepped closer yet. “Batman… I..”

Bruce cut him off, voice shaking. “Get.. get me out of here. Please” He nearly begged. It was humiliating and hurt, but he just couldn't.

He couldn't stay here, he couldn't risk crying or breaking down up here on this roof top where everyone could see, and his team might hear

Clark nodded, with no hesitation, grabbing Bruce gently, and flying up, holding the other carefully in his arms.

He didn't actually say where Clark should bring them, Bruce realised as they flew, but no matter where they would land it was better then being there.

Eventually they touched down in Gotham. The outskirts, but Gotham nonetheless, Clark had brought him home.

Fucking sweetheart idiot.

He sighed, leaning heavily against one of the walls. “I-... Fuck… it”

Clark moved to sit next to him, giving him some space, yet staying near.

Bruce opened and closed his mouth, trying to work out how to word this. “... It's not a parasite… I mean… technically it fills all the prerequisites for a parasite but like… no it's not.”

Clark stared at him looking increasingly concerned “What…huh??”

Bruce bit his lip, trying to stop the damn things from trembling. He wasn't going to cry over this. Not here.

“I… I'm a trans guy… so… female born…. And .. apparently I'm fucking pregnant”

Clark was silent just staring as Bruce continued to rant.

“AND THEN YOU'VE FUCKING SAID YOU CAN HEAR TWO HEARTBEATS… TWO…. That probably fucking means twins and I…. I.”

Bruce cuts himself off, letting his head hit the wall, before asking very quietly, “You're sure?... You… you can hear two?”

Clark slowly nodded, hesitantly running a hand along Bruce's back. “Yeah… two. I'm sure of it”

Bruce considered all the options for what he could say, before settling on a very loud “Fuck!”

They sat in silence for nearly 10 minutes, at some point Bruce had started crying a little, but Clark didn't mention it.

Eventually Clark spoke up again “What… what are you thinking of doing?” He asked, still gently rubbing Bruce's back.

“I don't have many options, I think I'm probably keeping them however.”

Clark slowly nodded. “Okay… I'm here for you, you know that? I want to help, however possible”

He was so fucking sweet. Too fucking sweet. Bruce shoved him slightly “Y’being too fucking nice to me.”

The other just blinked in mild confusion “Yeah, because you're my friend… and I want you safe”

Bruce just stared at him silently for a minute considering the pros and cons of what he was about to do.

He pulled his cowl off.

Clark nearly choked on his own spit “YOU'RE BRUCE WAYNE!? BUT… WHAT…. I…HUH???”

“You're like… one of the best detectives ever …. And Bruce Wayne claimed last week that Chocolate milk came from brown cows.”

Bruce winced, putting the cowl back on. “Yeah… yeah… I did that… uhm… Look the whole persona is a dumbarse bimbo okay?”

Clark huffed slightly, but was smiling.

When Bruce got home that night he flopped onto his bed, still in disbelief.

Twins.

He was carrying twins, fucking hell.

Chapter Text

Bruce groaned, throwing a hand over his face as Alfred opened the blinds like he always did at 7am. 

“Ugh. Alfred… don'tt” He borderline whined, glaring at his butler.

Alfred sighed. “Master Wayne you must get up”

Bruce huffed slightly, sitting up, and stretching. He had not slept well, his mind had been running the whole night with the knowledge he was carrying twins. 

He had not yet informed Alfred of the new development, he realised with a wince “Oh … Alfred?... I have an.. update” he muttered. 

“Yes Master Wayne?”

“It's twins” Bruce muttered bitterly, standing up, and grabbing a turtle neck, tugging it on. 

His butler spluttered “What?.. and you know this how?”

“Superman knows, heard a heart beat echoing mine. Later in the day heard two. I explained to him, oh and revealed my identity” 

Alfred took a deep breath “And how are you feeling, master Bruce?”

Bruce gave him a shrug in response, slipping on his slippers “I'll manage I suppose” he said shortly, a clear sign he didn't want to dwell on it right now. 

Alfred nods, leading the way downstairs “Breakfast is on the table, I believe Master Damian is already down there” 

Bruce walked downstairs, and sure enough Damian was at the table with a mug of tea he was drinking while eating pancakes from the large stack Alfred had placed on the table. 

“Good morning father” He said curtly, as he glanced up at Bruce. 

Bruce nodded, sitting down “Good morning Damian” He muttered. 

“You sound off father.”

Of course the kid noticed that. “I'm alright, just tired”

Damian clearly didn't believe Bruce, although seemed to decide the pancakes were currently of greater importance then Bruce. 

At least it was one of the few things they'd found that Damian truly seemed to actually enjoy. That kid loved pancakes. 

Bruce already had it internally noted as a way to get the boy to relax or get off his back about something, and Alfred made good pancakes, Bruce had to admit. 

He moved some of the pancakes and fruit from the centre stack onto his plate, trying not to crack a smile at Damian pulling a slight face at the fact there were now less pancakes, despite his whole plate being stacked still. 

Bruce poured a little maple syrup over his pancakes, ignoring the fact he wasn't particularly hungry.

He still needed to eat, so he may as well have some of the pancakes since it meant he didn't have to cook in order to eat. 

Breakfast was quiet, but things often were with Damian. Bruce was glad for that, conversation would have pissed him off right now. 

He ignored the clawing sense of nausea that was building up in his throat. He didn't know why on earth he'd be feeling nauseous, but it should settle itself. This stuff usually did. 

He grabbed his phone to check for any messages instead, leaving what was left on his plate for the time being. 

He had a good morning text from Clark, which he stares at before deciding he will deal with the other man's horribly optimistic attitude later in the morning. 

An overwhelming wave of nausea overtook Bruce, a faint taste of vomit tanging on his tongue as he stood up very suddenly, prompting Damian's eyes to follow him. 

As much as he wanted to ignore it, Bruce knew he was going to vomit. He grabbed the kitchen bin just in time as his diaphragm contracts, bringing back up the pancakes he just ate in a disgusting mix of sickly sweet from the pancakes, and bitter bile. 

Alfred was by his side in a second gently rubbing his back, and holding Bruce's hair out his face, and subsequently the vomit stream, just like when he was little. And just like when he was little, Alfred wasn't phased at all, even when he was risking getting puke on himself. 

It made sense, Bruce mused, the Butler had dealt with much worse things then a little vomit.

And Dick as a child got sick often, and so if Bruce wasn't helping him, Alfred was. 

He gagged again, bringing up the rest of the pancakes and fruit with a groan. 

Yet his body wasn't done, he kept heaving despite his stomach being entirely empty bringing up burning, stinging stomach acids. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Damian was now standing, hands awkwardly reaching out a few times before pulling back, unsure what to do. 

Eventually Bruces stomach relaxed, allowing him to sigh, nearly flopping against Alfred's side. 

The man didn't seem fussed, gently running a hand through Bruce's hair, while holding him up. “Alright, Master Bruce?”

“Dandy” Bruce coughed out, pulling himself to his feet, glancing at his son. Damian was watching him silently, eyebrows pinched together slightly as he tilted his head. 

“Father, are you ill?” 

Bruce shook his head, grabbing a cup of water to rise the horrific taste of bile and vomit from his mouth, spitting it into the sink after rinsing his mouth. 

“Father. You just expelled all the contents of your stomach, and look clammy. Those are typical traits of sickness” Damian deadpanned

Well Damian was as blunt as ever. Bruce had been hoping he might have been able to buy himself a little time, to process before having to explain, but seemingly not. 

He took a deep breath. “Well … yes. You are correct that those are traits typically displayed when sick… I am not sick Damian. It is something else.”

“Are you dying father? I would prefer you not to die.” 

Bruce had to bite back a slight smile at that comment. It was Damian showing his care in his own way. ‘I would prefer you not to die’ was the closest Bruce would likely get to worry from the boy, but it was still sweet.

Bruce crouched down to be closer in height and to look Damian in the eyes. “I'm not dying, I promise kid”

The boy tilted his head at Bruce's crouching, something he only ever did when discussing something serious. 

“Are you quite sure father?”

Bruce sighed. “Yes I'm sure. It's…. You are aware I am a trans man, right kid?”

“You were born as a female, yet felt male, so you changed your body, and social persona to match who you were as a man? Yes I remember that” Damian said, rattling off what had been explained to him when he'd first seen Bruce's scars. 

Bruce raised an eyebrow that the kid had managed to repeat that almost word for word as when it was first explained, but nodded nonetheless. “Yes correct. I still have a lot of my female body, including the ability to carry children..”

Damian slowly nodded “I am aware of that”

“Right… so.. via some unplanned means I have ended up pregnant. And what you just saw was morning sickness, a common pregnancy trait”

Damian opened and closed his mouth a few times. “Father, you are carrying a child in your stomach?”

Bruce nodded with a sigh “Well.. children”

“There are multiple?” Damian sounded mildly horrified at the idea.

“Two, twins. That should be all… otherwise I'm gonna-” Bruce cut himself off, realising he probably shouldn't threaten suicide Infront of his child. 

“Yes, two. You will have two little siblings”

Damian slowly nodded, staring mildly suspiciously at Bruce's stomach. “You don't look pregnant. How long until they are here?”

Bruce snorted mildly at the comment about not looking pregnant. “7ish months give or take, I'm about ten weeks, currently.”

Damian frowned. “None of the other children have taken that long”

“Well… yes.. because none of the other children were being born? They were being adopted”

Damian frowned as if he was just considering something. “Wait, they will arrive as babies… but aren't babies really rather helpless, father?” 

Bruce had to bite his lip to avoid laughing, he did forget Damian was just a kid occasionally. 

“Yes babies are rather helpless, Dami. They will be like that for a while.”

Damian frowned “I would have to help them then if they are that small and helpless” He muttered finally actually walking closer to Bruce. 

“Not if you don't want to. None of you will be expected to help in raising or looking after the kids.” 

Damian's face hardened “You cannot keep me from my future little siblings father. I will-” 

Bruce cut him off, a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Dami, relax. No one is going to keep them from you. I would be overjoyed should you get along with, and want to spend time with them. I was saying you will not be expected too if you do not want to. But you get to choose, alright?”

The boy straightened up “That is acceptable.” He paused considering something for a minute. “If you are going to continue being morning sick, don't eat pancakes. You just wasted pancakes.” 

Of course Damian was the most concerned about the ‘wasted’ pancakes now at the bottom of the kitchen trashcan. 

Chapter Text

Damian had taken the news.. surprisingly well. He had just seemingly decided he was going to be the best older brother he possibly could, already studying how to change nappies and how to prepare formula. 

It was probably his least destructive and dangerous thing he had hyper-fixated on. No weapons, no risking other people's lives. 

And, Bruce supposed, if Damien wanted to help, Bruce wasn't about to refuse another set of hands to assist with two newborns when the time came. 

And Damian seemed genuinely excited about this, which was rare for the boy. 

Bruce on the other hand wasn't quite as excited, mainly considering he'd thrown up about three times today and his mouth and throat burned like hell. 

While sitting around feeling nauseous he had in fact spent the time to respond to Clarks good morning text. They chatted back and forth for a minute, Clark telling Bruce that if he needed anything he could get it for him. 

Which was sweet. 

Everything about Clark was sweet and it honestly pissed Bruce off, just a little. Clark was so incredibly caring, and thoughtful, even to Bruce when he was being an arse. 

He didn't deserve that care, yet nothing he'd say could deter the other man. 

He was still sitting on the floor, now reading an article on his phone, when Jason walked in. 

He raised a slight eyebrow at Bruce sitting on the floor, but didn't question it. Everyone in the family had found each other in much weirder places at some point or another, like Jason's typical thinking spot in the top of the cupboard. 

Bruce glanced up in surprise not expecting Jason, he barely ever stopped by, especially not unannounced. 

“Oh … Jason I… wasn't expecting you” Bruce said then promptly winced at the fact it made it sound like the sudden visit was a bad thing. 

“I mean… it's not a bad thing, just .. unexpected. ..Did you need something Jay?”

The boy stared at him, for a second, a slight sneer on his face “The small brat is acting weird, seems to have a new fixation. Might wanna go check that out before he kills someone, or himself.”

Damian? New fixation?

Oh. Jason was referring to Damian's new favourite pastime, studying everything he possibly could about babies, and child rearing. 

The boy was dedicated for sure. He'd already got Alfred to show him how to soothe babies, and had started learning how to change nappies. 

If Bruce so much as suggested he didn't need to look into so much- because Bruce was attempting to avoid any of his kids coming parentified- Damian would threaten violence. 

Bruce glanced back up at Jason, who had the slightest hint of worry on his face. Despite enjoying teasing Damian, he did have a soft spot for the kid. 

“Damian is okay. His new… fixation is actually pretty much non harmful to both him and those around him, so we are letting it be” Bruce paused not wanting to sound as if he was ignoring Jason's worry however. “I appreciate the heads up incase I hadn't noticed though, Jay”

Jason huffed slightly. “Non harmful? Really? I doubt that B. What's he fixated on?”

Bruce winced slightly. He really wasn't looking forward to explaining this to yet another person, but he wasn't going to lie and push Jason away. He'd been hoping to tell Dick first, because being the oldest he'd probably take it best, and be willing to help mediate telling others, but no such luck. 

“His current interest is in baby stuff, like… soothing babies and entertaining them, as well as baby care. Which is.. much less harmful then his previous fixation on how to kill people quickest with household objects.”

Jason stared silently for a moment “Baby stuff?” He asked incredulously. 

Silence hung in the air for a few moments before Jason gasped. “Fuck. B I think he might be planning to steal a child or something”

Bruce barely bit back the laugh at Jason's statement “I… I can assure you he isn't, Kid.”

Jason scowled at being laughed at “That kid never learns something he doesn't believe is useful. Why would he be learning baby stuff? There's no babies near by, sooo…”

Bruce sighed slightly, dragging a hand over his face. “Well… Jason. There… are going to be babies soonish”

“What the fuck? Did you get some Brucie fling knocked up and now you'll have to raise those kids? And your expecting Damian to do a lot!? He's 11 B!” 

Bruce froze. Knocked up someone? Jason was aware he was a trans man, and did not have the equipment to do that. 

“Jason.” Bruce said very quickly, cutting the other off his angry rant. “I'm not expecting Damian to do anything. I've told him that explicitly, but he wants to. You know what he's like, when he wants something he's stubborn, and I'm not going to stop him from helping if that's what he wants”

Jason froze, seeming to consider that for a moment. Eventually he seemed to concede slightly, some of his anger falling away as he thought it over. “I guess. It still bodes the question who the fuck did you knock up, and why aren't they keeping the babies? I'm assuming it's plural, given you said babies”

Bruce stared at his son for a minute, blinking slowly, was Jason taking the piss? Bruce wasn't quite sure. 

“Jason. I'm… the one whose pregnant” He stated. 

Jason's eyes went wide “What the fuck?!” He nearly screeched. “How the ever living fuck are you pregnant B?? Oh my god did you get knocked up by an alien or some shit? Holy fuck, you fucked an alien!”

What was Jason going on about?

“Jason! What… no!? I didn't fuck an alien?? Where the fuck is that coming from?”

The other looked even more baffled “What do you mean you didn't fuck an alien? How the fuck else would you have a bun in the oven?? Unless you fucked an alien that can impregnate men!?”

Where Jason was confused suddenly clicked in Bruce's mind and he flopped forward slightly, resting his head against one of his desk drawers. barely contained chuckles shook his frame. “Jay …. Jason, kid. Did…. Did you forget I'm a trans man?”

“Oh…… uhm.. yeah right.. You have a womb. I kinda forgot you weren't just like.. a regular man with a dick. I was getting concerned where that baby would come from” 

All anger had left Jason's face leaving a mix of mild bewilderment, and a hint of embarrassment at considering his father fucked an alien, before remembering his father was AFAB. 

“So… you have twins… right now? In you?” He asked, just to make sure.

Bruce nodded slowly “Yep… That's right” 

“Fuck, so I can't really tase you if you piss me off for nine months. Shit.” Jason pouted slightly. 

Damian walked in, carrying a doll, and nappies. “If you try and harm father while he is carrying my siblings I shall cut off your manhood, Todd”

Bruce snorted slightly “No cutting of your brother's dick. He wouldn't harm the babies, Dami”

The youngest hummed, placing the baby doll down, and beginning to practice taking nappies on and off it. 

Jason raised an eyebrow, but turned back to Bruce “I suppose I'll help when .. my siblings are born”

“Jay you don't have to. It's-” 

Jason cut him off. “Too bad.. I'm gonna. Because I think we all know you are probably going to be working right up until you give birth, and probably go right back to working afterwards. You'll need hands. Besides they are my siblings so-”

Damian cut Jason off, in a arrogant tone of voice “I'll be a better brother then you Todd.”

“Oh will you, Pipsqueak?”

Damian nodded “I know how to change diapers. I'll be better than you”

A slow realisation, combined with a smirk crossed Jason's face “Oh really? Are you sure you're better at diapers?”

Damian nodded quickly, continuing.to undo and do the nappies on the doll. “Yes I am. I'm very quick at them, in fact I'm so good , I'll do all of them”

Jason nodded in false resignation “Oh yes… I'd… I'd never dare to try and take that from you”

Bruce just sighed. Jason had taken it surprisingly well, even insisting he'd help, although he also immediately manipulated Damian's pride into getting him to declare he would change every dirty nappy. 

Which may become a fight later, but he'd have to see. 

Chapter Text

Clark was a godsend. A literal godsend.

Bruce may not believe in god, but Clark was certainly the best thing to happen to him in years. 

The day had started off pretty calm, Clark asking after how telling people was going - and laughing at Bruce's recital of Jason tricking Damian into agreeing to change all the diapers. 

He had found the kids apparent eagerness for their new siblings endearing as anything, face softened in that bloody sweet smile. 

It was a different one to his confident Superman smile, or his nervous Clark Kent smile, it was sweet and genuine and made Bruce's stomach do something he was sure was entirely unrelated to the babies.

Then they had been called in for a fight. It was a simple fight, nothing major out of the ordinary, although a little rough. 

And since finding out he was pregnant, Bruce was much more worried during fights where he got thrown through walls or hit badly. All he could think was about the babies

Sure they were under layers of armour but what if it wasn't enough. 

Clark knew about his worry and had started trying to help ease it. While fighting, he'd subtly hold up two fingers to Bruce, just a silent ‘There's still two heartbeats’.

And Bruce couldn't express his gratitude well enough, the fact that he had someone who could just listen in for if anything went wrong took so much weight off his shoulders and made him so much more at ease. 

Bruce wasn't particularly good at expressing gratitude anyways, so how the hell was he meant to express gratitude for this. 

Clark didn't need gratitude or rewards, he just wanted Bruce comfortable and safe, and Bruce knew that. But still. 

At this point the rest of the league was heading back to the watchtower, Bruce still here because he was heading back to Gotham, and Clark still here because… well it was metropolis, so where else would he be?

Bruce turned round to look at Clark, considering for a moment. Food was often a thing used to show gratitude.

“Pick a restaurant.”

The other glanced up blinking hard “Huh? Sorry what?”

“Pick a restaurant.” Bruce repeated. “You are being incredibly helpful and easing my worry. I want to show my gratitude.”

Clark froze slightly, one of those delightfully soft smiles overtaking his face “Oh.. that's sweet… uhm. I'm not really a restaurant guy…uhm What restaurants are there in Gotham?”

Bruce blinked for a second. Of course Clark wouldn't know many restaurants in Gotham. He considered his offer. 

“Actually, just come to the manor. We can make something or just order… either way”

The surprise on Clarks face nearly could have made Bruce laugh right there, he looked nearly star struck. 

“Oh. Yeah okay! … Want a lift if I'm going anyways?” he offered with a hand extended. 

Bruce sighed slightly. He didn't particularly like the idea of being flown. Or being that high up in the air out of his control. However, they would be back much faster, and it made sense given the situation. 

“Fine” He grumbled

Clark beamed, grabbing Bruce in that careful way he did that made Bruce's heart flutter, Clark's strong arms around him as they took off.

Bruce's face instinctively moved closer to Clarks shoulder as they took off, the fast air stinging his eyes for a second as he adjusted. 

Once he reopened his eyes, he could admittedly enjoy the view. It was beautiful to see from this perspective, even Gotham the mazes of grungy alley's looked like an abstract painting. 

Also being wrapped in Clark's inhumanly warm arms, being held securely like this was comfortable, surprisingly for being so high in the air, but Bruce wouldn't drop him. 

Clark eventually touched down near the front of the manor with a smile sent Bruce's way that he huffed at. 

Bruce lead him down to the Batcave, enjoying the numerous emotions spreading over the man's face face as he stared around the cave, opening and closing his mouth a few times like he had comments but thought better of it.

Finally he spoke, whilst staring up at the actual living bats on the ceiling “Well… uhm… it's very …dark… and on theme” 

Bruce slipped off his suit, placing it carefully on a mannequin which disappeared into the floor, leaving Bruce in black under armour leggings and a black turtleneck.

Bruce pushed the door open, leading the super inside, coaxing a raised eyebrow from Alfred. 

“Ah Master Bruce and… Superman?”

Alfred glanced between them a few times. “May I ask, sir. Have you lost your powers?”

Clark blinked in confusion before shaking his head “Uhm no sir?” 

Alfred glanced back at Bruce, raising his eyebrows further. “Well sir, I don't know if my heart can handle this much excitement in one month”

Bruce sighed slightly. “Trust me, this month has been… something”

Alfred nodded “I shall put the kettle on sir” He stated before walking off into the kitchen. 

Bruce lead Clark through to the lounge, gesturing for him to pick any seat, as Bruce flopped on the couch. 

Clark sat down next to him, awkwardly fiddling with his hands “Uhm… it's.. it's big”

Bruce tilted his head slightly. Of course Clark ‘Farmboy’ Kent would be a little overwhelmed. 

“Well yes. It's a manor” He stated eating Clarks mildly bewildered and overwhelmed expression. 

Jason walked down the stairs, before freezing, eying up Clark silently. 

Before Clark could speak the boy was darting right back up the stairs, a feral grin on his face as he bounded upstairs. 

Clark slowly turned to Bruce, a frown on his features “Did… I do something wrong?”

Bruce shook his head slightly, picking up a mug from the tray Alfred placed. “No no. He's probably just going to tell Damian”

Clark visable relaxed, clearly glad. He seemed horrified at the idea he may have already upset a bat kid, but a few minutes later, Jason came barreling back down. 

His tone was sweet, and he was smiling as he walked up to Clark. “Hi. I'm Jason, it's nice to meet you, I've heard a lot from dad about you” 

Bruce blinked at that. Jason was planning something. He was barely ever sweet like that, and he certainly wouldn't be referring to Bruce as dad to anyone. 

Yet Clark fell for it immediately, taking the offered hand and starting up some polite small talk, with a beaming Jason.

Damian emerged from upstairs not long after, staring daggers at Clark. “You hurt father, I cut off your manhood” He stated, holding a sword.

Clark nearly blanched, quickly sticking his hands up in surrender. “Woah woah, I have no intentions to hurt Bruce!” he quickly said, attempting to defuse. 

Jason just rolled his eyes with a huffed laugh. “Ignore him. He's just protective. Anyways, how are you planning on cutting off the SUPERMAN's penis. He's like… invincible”

“Father has a kryptonite stash” Damian stated blankly before walking out, being followed by a still laughing Jason. 

“Pretty sure a good big brother doesn't threaten people's genitals, Dami”

The conversation between the boys died out into the background as Clark and Bruce sat. 

The conversation drifted between subjects, nothing serious, but not quite small talk, talk over how the league was, what reporter work was like; what Bruce's job was like. 

Everything about the atmosphere was comfortable and cosy. 

Apparently so cosy Bruce.. snuggled!? He was pressed up against Clarks side, and he really wasn't quite sure when or how it happened. 

He was batman, he didn't snuggle, he didn't relax and let his guard down like this, and and yet here he was, comfortable against Clarks side as he rambled over some kind of a story he was working on. 

Bruce wasn't quite sure what he was saying, he was listening sure. But he was listening to the deep, reverberating tone of Clark's voice that nearly seemed to niggle its way into his brain. 

He was content, like this, Clark looked and smelled so good, and.. what?

Why were Bruce's thoughts going down that route? It was insane. Superman of all people wasn't hot. He wasn't dating material, as pretty as those eyes were. 

But why wouldn't Clark be dating material? He was sweet, kind, wanted to get along with Bruce's kids, cared for Bruce despite all his issues, all his avoidance, Clark never gave up. 

Bruce had never quite been so glad for a distraction as when Dick walked in, staring at his phone. “Hey dad? Where did you get a new kid? And when? It's-” Dick trailed off, raising an eyebrow… “Second question.. why is superman here.. and why are you.. snuggling him?”