Chapter Text
The large hall was filled with chatter, the sounds of clinking drinks overflowing his senses. There were warm overhead lights, plus the frequent blinding flash from cameras.
Clark had a goal.
Cover the event of the fundraiser, interview as many famous people he could, and then get out of there.. It was somewhat of a struggle— as the people he wanted to speak to would get ushered away by a group of people before he could get a word in.
Despite the many people in the crowd, all of their faces blurred, their sound just white noise in his ears.
Because,
all he saw,
was Bruce Wayne.
The man was known for being a billionaire playboy — and he believes it because—gosh—he’s handsome.
And at that thought, warmth rose to his cheeks. And suddenly, there was a feeling of foolishness. Why would he think that? I mean— no, of course he is handsome… But not in a romanticized manner.
FOCUS.
Clark shakes his head abruptly.
There was Bruce Wayne, right in front of him. He shouldn’t be there just staring— he had to go interview him!
He cleared his throat, muscles feeling stiff, but nonetheless he made his way towards the man. Clark found him facing his way, already looking at him—a tiny, amused smirk formed on his lips— he noticed…Clark! Just when the heat had gone down he felt it rising throughout his whole body. He tugged at his tie which was suddenly a bit too tight around his neck.
“B—ruce Wayne?” he blurted, “I’m Clark Kent from the Daily Planet.” He held out a hand, feeling the sweat already form in his palm. Bruce accepted the handshake, a calloused hand wrapping around Clark’s own, which was odd for someone like Bruce, but maybe he worked out? “Kent.” Bruce nodded. “What can I do for you?”
“Just a few questions, I’ll be quick, I know a lot of people want to speak to you.”
Bruce smiled at that, “You know how it is, but ask away.” Clark laughed awkwardly, also just noticing that they’d been handshaking for a moment too long, and finally broke away, grabbing his notebook out of his pocket.
“So, Wayne Enterprises has been investing in Metropolis fundraisers and such more frequently than usual. Why Metropolis?”
“Metropolis needs support,” he paused. “as does Gotham. As neighboring cities we should help each-other out.”
Clark jotted notes down with his pen before continuing.
“You are known for being a philanthropist, but you have become more involved in charities. Why?”
“For change.
If the wealthy have the resources to make change happen, then why not?”
“Is there a specific goal you want tonight’s fundraiser to accomplish?”
“It’s simple, really.” Bruce began. “Get kids off the streets, and give them a shot at a better life.” Clark paused his writing for a moment, just to look at Bruce. Of course, he still had that million dollar smile on, but behind it was a hint of tired sincerity.
“Okay… on another topic,” He cleared his throat, taking on a brighter tone. “Metropolis is glad to have you here. Will we be seeing more of you?”
“If Metropolis keeps giving me a good reason, sure.” He said this simply, but his eyes flicked to Clark, and the flush crept back up his neck.
Clark shut his book, slipping it away. “Good reason, like what, Mr. Wayne?”
Bruce’s smirk sharpened. “Good reporters,” he replied. “Who ask the right questions.”
“The right questions?” Clark blinked.
“You’re doing fine so far,” Bruce gave a small shrug.
That was then, Clark realized the rumors were true.
Bruce Wayne is a playboy. Who knew he’d try to flirt with some reporter like Clark?
Despite this, Clark was intrigued nonetheless, especially because of Bruce’s answers to the questions. He seems more thoughtful than he was ever taken for.
Suddenly, right as that thought formed, there was a deafening roar. Glass shattering, lights flickering before his eyes.
confusion, realization and fear flashed across Bruce’s face before settling into something deadly serious.
He moved even before Clark did— as if he expected it.
How did Bruce react faster than a normal human should?
….
Maybe he does boxing.
“Get down!” He shouted right before the blast threw him backwards.
“Bruce!!” He yelled as the other was flung. Though he could feel the pressure and heat of it, the blast barely moved Clark. He had to pretend though, he crouched and feigned struggle against the gust, before slipping in between a crowd of panicking people to get away and transform in a flash.
He listened to everything now.
all of the cries.
All of the alarms,
collapsing debris.
If only he hadn’t tuned sound out, he would’ve been able to notice the bomb and get rid of it before things went wrong.
But, no point sulking over it now.
He had a job to do.
He could hear the blaring sirens of police cars and ambulances. They’d take care of injuries, he had to get them safe.
yet,
There was only one man on his mind,
Bruce.
But he can’t reach him yet. not now when there’s many people in urgent need right in front of him.
He carried many people from underneath of fallen debris, guiding others towards an exit outside of the building where many medical aid were waiting, all the while looking for a specific man with dark hair.
Finally— he spotted him, right where a metal beam was about to fall. Clark caught it and left it to rest against a wall. Then he floated over to Bruce, who was leaned back, hair ruffled, suit scuffed and stained with dirt. He seemed stunned, gaze unfocused.
But his heartbeat—
Despite a small spike— It was steady.
As steady as the sound of raindrops drumming against the earth.
Clark listened for a while.
It was too steady.
Too calm.
No normal man reacted like Bruce had.
And for the first time that night…