Chapter Text
The Daily Planet bullpen was always a hive of noise and activity. Whether it was printers whirring, journalists chasing leads on phone calls, or Perry White barking edits at whichever junior reporter was nearest, it was never quiet. It was hard to hear yourself think sometimes but Clark liked it that way. It was the sound of a room of people trying to make a difference and trying to find the truth. How could Superman not like it?
When Clark stepped off the elevator onto the bullpen floor—fashionably late but not too late at 9:03 am—and everything immediately fell silent, his mouth went dry. He had a roomful of silent journalists all staring at him and nothing good came from being the sole focus of attention of the Daily Planet’s entire writer's pool. Clark scanned the faces of his colleagues and found a mix of raised eyebrows, surprised expressions, and an enthusiastic thumbs-up from Steve Lombard.
It was the thumbs-up that was the most concerning.
"All right, all right, back to work everyone."
Clark had never been so glad to see and hear Lois Lane. She made her way through the cluttered desks towards him with a look on her face that dared anyone to either challenge her or try to stop her. It said that Lois was going to deal with Clark, and everyone else was going to stay out of it. When Lombard tried to say something to her, she simply clipped him around the head with the papers in her hand.
"Lois, what's going on?"
Lois grabbed him by the arm and steered him away from the sharks in the bullpen to the stairwell. "You haven't looked at GMZ today?"
"I never look at GMZ."
Lois opened the door to the stairs and pushed Clark through, gesturing to head up the roof. "Maybe you should start."
The roof of the Daily Planet had been the setting for many private discussions between Clark and Lois since she had discovered he was Superman. From the stern look in her eyes and the rapid beat of her heart, Clark could tell that this was Superman business as well but he couldn't figure out how GMZ—Gotham's best and therefore most intrusive and scandalous gossip site—figured into the equation.
GMZ ran the occasional story about Batman and considered him to be their local pet cryptid, much to Batman's irritation and amusement, but largely stayed away from wider superhero news. Superman especially was not their usual topic of discussion. Clark worked hard to keep Superman above reproach and in the eyes of people like GMZ who only cared about scandal and rumor, too boring and bland to write about it.
Lois unfolded the pieces of paper in her hand so that Clark could see the headline. They still bore a dent shaped like Steve Lombard's head but that didn’t detract from what was printed on them. Clark stared at the pages and read the text. Then he focused his super senses and quickly read every single individual pixel just to make sure he wasn't mistaken.
SUPERMAN
EXITS METROPOLIS APARTMENT IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT
…VISITING HIS SECRET LOVER!!!
Underneath the obnoxiously large headline was a photo. It was a little blurry and unfocused but was still clear enough to show Superman leaving through an apartment window in the night. Clark looked again. It showed Superman leaving his apartment window.
Clark guarded his civilian identity closely. Being Superman was everything to him but so was being Clark Kent. It was dealing with the mundane issues of Clark Kent's life that gave him the strength to deal with the world-ending issues of being Superman. Superman was an ideal, an impossible standard that not even Superman himself could live up to, Having a life as Clark, where nobody cared if he screwed up and the stakes were lower, made being Superman easier to bear. Without Clark Kent, he didn’t think he could be Superman.
And now he'd been caught exiting Clark's apartment as Superman and his identity had been discovered and--
Wait. Secret lover?
Lois saw Clark's confused expression and took pity on him. "Trust GMZ to get the scoop of the millennium and completely blow it."
"They have photos of Superman leaving an apartment at night and jumped to lovers?" Clark laughed, relieved that his identity was still safe. Then he remembered the reaction of everyone in the bullpen. "They identified the apartment as being mine, didn't they?"
Lois's mouth twisted into an expression Clark had never seen before. He couldn't tell if she was grimacing in sympathy or trying not to laugh at him. Maybe it was both. "They did."
Clark sighed. "GMZ has printed a story saying that Clark Kent is Superman's secret lover."
"Congratulations?" Lois said, shrugging her shoulders. "It's your own fault, you know."
"How is it my fault?"
"One, you left your window slow enough to be noticed and photographed, and two, you left your window while still getting dressed. Next time, do everything quicker."
Clark took a closer look at the photo and felt like kicking himself. He had been woken up by the sounds of an apartment fire and in his half-asleep state, hadn't quite been able to pinpoint where the fire was. Instead of waiting in his apartment for a couple of seconds to find the burning apartment, he'd headed out of the window before pulling the top of his suit on straight and had only rushed off when he was certain of where he was going. The photo must have been taken in that second or two when he was hanging in the air next to his apartment window, figuring out the direction of the sound, and straightening his suit.
Clark had to admit that a photo of Superman climbing out of an apartment window with his suit barely on his shoulders did suggest a lover's tryst, especially to a site that specialized in salacious gossip like GMZ. The reality that he'd been sleeping—alone—in his worn-out University of Metropolis sweats moments before and was still half asleep was nowhere near as interesting.
"The way I see it," Lois began, pacing slightly as she spoke. Clark knew better than to interrupt Lois Lane when she was pacing, "is that you have two options. You either deny that Clark Kent is Superman's lover, or you let the story play out."
"Lois! I can't let the story play out!" Clark said, incredulous that she'd even suggest it. "It's insane."
"Is it?"
"Um, yes? Superman can't be seen having late-night calls with someone! And I can't compromise my journalistic integrity by being seen with Superman."
"Don't worry about your integrity, Clark. Perry has already taken you off the superhero beat for the foreseeable future. It's the thrilling world of local government reporting for you. Try not to get too excited.
“I wouldn't worry about Superman's good reputation too much either,” Lois said, barely pausing for breath. “Clark Kent is a good Midwestern boy with a respectable job, he sends money home to his momma every month and has a squeaky clean background. Superman could do a lot worse than you.”
Despite the panic rising inside him, Clark couldn’t prevent the blush that spread across his face at Lois’ kind words. It hadn’t worked out between them but that didn’t matter. He knew Lois would always have his back and he’d move heaven and Earth to keep her safe.
“I can’t pretend to be dating myself, Lois.”
“Then you’ll have to deny it. But you’ll have to come up with another explanation for why a half-naked Superman left your apartment at 3 am.”
Clark pointed to the photo. “I’m not half-naked, just a little—disheveled. And there are plenty of reasons why Superman could leave Clark Kent’s apartment at 3 am that don’t involve us being lovers or the same person.”
“Really? Name one.” Lois folded her arms across her chest and raised her chin. She was challenging him.
“I had information for Superman. Time-sensitive information that couldn’t wait until the morning.”
“Not bad,” Lois replied. “Doesn’t explain why Superman wasn’t dressed properly though. Try again.”
“Um,” Clark paused. His mind worked quicker than a human’s did but not even Superman could create a plausible explanation that quickly. “Superman got covered in some alien goo and used my shower because it was nearest.”
“Shame there weren’t any alien invasions yesterday because that one might have worked. Of course, Superman could have used his superspeed to go to the Hall of Justice and shower there in the same amount of time, but I suppose we could have ignored that. Got another one?”
Clark placed his hands on his hips and sighed in defeat. “No.”
“My advice is that you firmly ‘No comment’ your way through the next few weeks. Don’t deny it and don’t confirm it as Clark Kent—just carry on and ignore it. If you’re asked as Superman, give a noncommittal answer and try to change the subject. That should be easy as you’ll probably be in the middle of rescuing someone.
“Eventually, people will get bored of asking and it will become yesterday’s news. Then you can either let it fade away or end the speculation firmly by saying you’re just friends. People will presume that your change from not answering to saying you’re friends is because of a breakup and you don’t need to correct that.”
Clark looked away from Lois and cast his eyes over the horizon as he thought about what she had said. He hadn’t realized at first, but his natural instinct had been to look over to Gotham. He idly wondered what Batman would be doing at 9:30 am on a Tuesday and then decided to add that to the long list of things he wished he knew about Batman.
But he couldn’t get distracted by thoughts of Batman. Not now. Those were thoughts for lonely evenings when he didn’t have a crisis to work through and an impatient Lois Lane waiting for a response.
“Okay. You’re right, Lois. I guess I don’t have a choice but to go with the—,” Clark paused and shuddered, “the secret lovers story. Somehow, it’s the least worst option.”
“Say that again, Clark.”
“Say what? Oh—,” Clark blushed again. “You’re right, Lois.”
Lois reached out and gently patted Clark on the arm. “I’m always right. Now come on, let’s get back to work. You can practice how to say ‘No comment’ to Lombard and Cat Grant. If you can cope with those two, you can cope with anyone.”
Clark took one last long look at Gotham before following Lois back to the stairwell and into the viper pit that was the Daily Planet bullpen.
Over the following days, Clark thought he became very skilled at saying “no comment.”
He said “no comment” to his colleagues at the Daily Planet. He said it to the barista who made his caffe latte every morning. He said it to his nosy neighbor and her two young boys who started knocking on his door at random times of the day, hoping to find Superman. He also said it to the supermarket cashier, three interview subjects, two security guards, fifteen random people on the street, and half the journalists in the contiguous United States.
He’d even started to answer his phone with a straight “no comment” which was fine when another journalist found his number, but a little embarrassing when it was his mother. Thankfully, his parents saw the funny side of it all and were happy to play along with the ruse if it meant protecting Clark’s identity.
The constant questions, stares, and whispers that followed him wherever he went were annoying, but Clark could cope with them. Most of the time, at least.
Superman may be a public figure but Clark Kent had spent most of his life trying not to be noticed. Clark purposely underperformed in school, both in academics and sports, aimed for an average college GPA, and passed on the higher profile news stories. He dressed to be forgotten and to blend into a crowd and aimed to never leave a strong impression on anyone.
Whenever the attention started to become too much for Clark, he took a few moments to spread out his senses and check in with those he cared about the most. The questions didn’t annoy him as much when he had one ear on Smallville and could hear his Ma and Pa talking about the upcoming harvest. He could ignore the stares when a quick glance showed him Lois grimacing at the spelling mistakes in her latest headline-grabbing article.
And he couldn’t hear the whispers when he had Batman’s solid and strong heartbeat echoing in his ears.
Clark couldn’t remember when he’d first started listening out for Batman’s heartbeat or exactly when he’d memorized it to the point that he could identify it amongst the seven billion other heartbeats on the planet. Batman didn’t know that Clark had his heartbeat memorized and he didn’t need to know either. Telling Batman would mean explaining why Clark could recognize the steady thump-thump of his heart and that was a conversation that Clark wasn’t ready for. Clark knew the reason, but he wasn’t willing to admit it, not even to himself.
All in all, the first few days of Clark Kent’s life as Superman’s public lover were stressful, but were nothing that Clark couldn’t cope with.
The first few days of Superman’s life as Clark Kent’s public lover were, thankfully, much easier. It helped that those first days were some of the quietest since Clark had first put on the red cape and taken to the skies. The Justice League wasn’t called into action once and Clark only had a factory collapse, a sinking cargo ship, and a landslide to deal with. Superman flew in, rescued a few people, and flew back out again without the need for too many questions to be asked. Only the captain of the cargo ship dared to ask Superman about Clark and that question was easily sidestepped by diving back into the water to fish out another container of Pop-Tarts.
Maybe it was the ease of those first few days that made Superman approach the monthly Justice League meeting with his guard down. He arrived at the Hall of Justice early and headed to the break area for his customary cup of coffee. Caffeine didn’t affect him physically but the placebo effect was real, and if Clark was to stay as alert as Superman was expected to be throughout the meeting, then he needed his caffeine fix.
The Flash and Green Lantern were already there, bickering like an old married couple over the contents of the snack cupboard. Superman greeted them both with a smile and grabbed a candy bar from under their noses. Clark didn’t even like peanut butter cups that much, but it was worth taking them just to hear the protests from The Flash, who thought that every single snack was rightfully his.
“Hey, Big Blue! I didn’t expect to see you at today’s meeting,” said Green Lantern.
Clark frowned in confusion. Since the formation of the Justice League, he hadn’t missed a single meeting unless he was off-world. “Why’s that?”
“I thought you might be too busy with your new boyfriend.”
Flash groaned and threw a bag of salsa chips at Lantern’s head. “Ignore him, Superman. He hasn’t had a date in nine months and is making it everybody else’s problem.”
“I’m taking some time for myself,” Lantern protested. “I just think it’s great that one of our leaders has found love.”
“Thanks?” Clark said, wishing he was anywhere but stood in the front of the Hall of Justice snack cupboard. Even Lex Luthor’s kryptonite trap of the week was starting to look appealing.
“How did you two meet?” Flash asked. “Did you rescue him or did your eyes meet during an interview and you couldn’t deny the chemistry?”
Lantern scowled. “Flash, my man, you have to stop reading those romance novels.”
Flash ignored the interruption. “Batman doesn’t think that superhero and civilian relationships can work but I disagree. Diana does too, and she knows more about love than Batman does.”
Clark tried not to react at the mention of Batman. He had heard Batman’s thoughts about superheroes and relationships before and vehemently disagreed. Batman thought it was impossible to balance being a superhero with having a fulfilling relationship. He thought it caused weakness and distractions and Clark wanted nothing more than the opportunity to personally prove him wrong.
Green Lantern opened the bag of salsa chips and popped a couple in his mouth. “Spooky needs to find someone whose apartment he can sneak out of at 3 am. Maybe if he got laid more it’d dislodge the stick he has up his ass.”
“Lantern.”
Lantern closed his eyes and sighed at the sound of Batman’s unmistakable voice coming from behind him. Clark almost felt sorry for him—but only almost. He hadn’t noticed Batman's approach either, but the Bat did have an uncanny skill for appearing out of thin air. Unless Clark was specifically listening and on his guard, Batman could even surprise him.
Batman and Green Lantern had been oil and water ever since the Justice League had begun and neither man seemed interested in building a relationship. They worked together well in the field and their petty disagreements had yet to cause any issues during a mission but they both appeared to enjoy riling the other man up. Clark thought the two of them would get along well if they both pulled their heads out of their asses.
Lantern pushed his opened bag of chips into the waiting and welcoming arms of the Flash and turned around to face Batman. “Hey, Bats, I didn’t see you there. I didn’t think it was Halloween for another couple of months.”
“C’mon guys, let’s be nice,” Flash said. He turned to Batman and held out the bag of chips. “Do you want one?”
Batman didn’t look at the chips and sidestepped Green Lantern as if he didn’t exist. His focus was on Superman and Superman alone, much to Green Lantern’s obvious annoyance. “Superman, we need to speak in private.”
Clark nodded in agreement at Batman and was just glad for an excuse to leave the irritated Lantern and nervous Flash behind. “Sure, B. Lead the way.”
Batman quickly turned on his heels and walked away without sparing a single glance to either Green Lantern or The Flash. Clark smiled, mumbled an apology, handed his peanut butter cups to the Flash, and followed Batman into the deserted meeting room.
Once the door had closed and they had some privacy, Clark spoke. “You don’t need to be such an ass to Green Lantern.”
Batman didn’t smile—Batman rarely smiled at all—but there was a layer of amusement in his voice. “I didn’t say anything to him.”
“No, you never do, because you know it drives him crazy when you don’t respond to his teasing.”
“He’ll get over it,” Batman said. “I didn’t call you into this meeting to speak about that annoying glow stick.”
Clark briefly considered defending Green Lantern but decided against it as there was no real heat in Batman’s words. Contrary to what the other Justice League members thought, Batman did have a sense of humor—it was just a little dark and enjoyed poking at Green Lantern occasionally. Clark knew that Batman respected Lantern’s abilities in the field and his contribution to the Justice League and that was all that mattered.
Besides, Clark liked being the only one who saw this side of Batman. Around the others, the Bat still remained distant and aloof. Around Clark, he allowed himself to seem a little more human.
“How can I help?” Clark asked. “Do you need my help with a mission?”
“No. Stay out of Gotham,” Batman said, as he always did. “I wanted to talk to you about Clark Kent.”
Clark felt like someone had just pelted him in the stomach with a chunk of kryptonite the size of a bowling ball. It really had been too good to be true, hadn’t it? Superman had faced one easily avoided question about his relationship with Clark Kent and he had stupidly presumed that was as bad as it was about to get. Now he’d been teased about it by Green Lantern and was about to get questioned about his fake boyfriend by his very real crush.
If Clark had been thinking straight, he would have realized that if there was only one person on the planet who would have questions, it would be Batman. Batman didn’t trust easily and despite his often prickly exterior, he cared deeply about the Justice League and keeping the members safe.
Batman had also taken Superman’s safety as his own personal pet project. Clark was under no illusions there—although Batman did care for him as a colleague, it was mainly a tactical decision on Batman’s behalf. A compromised Superman was dangerous and Batman was one of the few people that had the skills, knowledge, and kryptonite to take Superman down if it was necessary.
Clark didn’t mind. He trusted Batman to do what was right.
Clark tried to keep his expression neutral. “What about Clark?”
“Exactly how well do you know him?” Clark couldn’t help but blush at Batman’s phrasing. Batman decided to try again. “What do you know about him?”
Clark didn’t know how to answer. He considered being honest with Batman and explaining that he wasn’t dating Clark Kent because he was Clark Kent but quickly dismissed the idea. He trusted Batman implicitly but other than Wonder Woman—who was a special case in every possible sense—nobody in the Justice League had revealed their identity yet.
Batman didn’t even know that Superman had a civilian identity. Like everyone else on the planet, Batman had simply assumed that Superman was Superman and Clark had allowed that assumption to continue. Did Batman even care if Superman had a civilian identity? Clark couldn’t help but worry that if Batman did meet Clark Kent, he would find him lacking somehow.
So no, revealing his identity wasn’t a possibility. He had to continue to be dating himself.
He could answer Batman’s question by giving him Clark Kent’s entire life story in great detail. Even the edited version without any reference to space shuttles crashing in Kansas cornfields, heat vision, and a deadly allergy to a glowing green rock would still be lengthy and complete.
But if Superman and Clark Kent were two entirely different people who were in a relationship, how much would Superman know about Clark Kent at this stage? Knowing everything was unlikely, but not knowing enough would only spark Batman’s suspicions and paranoia. Did Superman know Clark’s favorite movie? Had Superman met the parents yet? How much of Superman’s life did Clark know? Had Clark met Krypto?
Superman would never wish for a disaster that needed his help to happen, but needing an excuse to immediately leave and not answer Batman’s question would have been welcomed.
“Well, the relationship is still new,” Clark said, neglecting to add that the relationship only started a few days earlier when Lois convinced him it was the best explanation, “but I know a lot about Clark.”
It was impossible to tell with Batman’s glowing white lenses in place, but Clark was certain Batman just narrowed his eyes in suspicion at him. “Do you.”
“If you have a specific concern, Batman, just say it.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Clark instantly regretted them. Batman was full of specific concerns and although Clark would normally enjoy hearing Batman list them in great detail, it wasn’t as much fun when the concerns were directed at you.
“He’s a journalist. Are you certain he isn’t using you so he has a source on the Justice League? Have you taken him to the Fortress? He lives in Metropolis. Most of the city is owned by Lex Luthor—can you be certain he isn’t on Luthor’s payroll? If an incident occurs that threatens Metropolis, you’ll be distracted because you’ll be worried about him. Do you—”
“Okay, okay,” Clark said, holding his hands up in both a gesture of peace and a plea for Batman to stop. “You have several concerns. I understand.”
“I’m not hearing answers, Superman.”
“Firstly, Clark has been taken off all superhero stories so even if he had information—which he doesn’t—he couldn’t use it. The Daily Planet isn’t GMZ and takes ethical concerns seriously, as does Clark. I would never put the Justice League or any of its members at risk. You have to know that.”
Batman bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment. “I trust that you would never knowingly put us at risk. You’re too honorable and reliable for that.”
Clark couldn’t help but smile a little at Batman’s words. Clark knew how frightening his alienness made him. He was endlessly strong, virtually impossible to hurt, and could shoot lasers from his eyes—what human wouldn’t be frightened by him? Clark worked hard to make Superman someone humanity could trust and he was proud that the majority did trust him. Humanity’s trust was a heavy burden to carry but it was one he promised to never drop.
But hearing Batman say that he trusted Superman always made Clark feel like it was all worth it. Batman’s trust was Clark’s most treasured possession and he would do anything to keep it.
“And the only person I have ever taken to the Fortress is you,” Clark said, hoping he didn’t reveal too much of himself with that answer. “It’s called the Fortress of Solitude for a reason.”
Batman nodded but remained silent.
“Okay. Let’s move on. Clark does live in Metropolis, but he’s no fan of Luthor,” Clark said in the understatement of the year. “He’s written several articles exposing poor working conditions at Lexcorp over the years. Luthor has attempted to sue the Daily Planet for libel four times and has attempted several hostile takeovers.”
“Five times,” said Batman. “He’s sued the Daily Planet five times. And I’ve read Kent’s articles about Luthor.”
“Then why did you ask if Clark was working for Luthor? You should have known he wasn’t.”
“Yes, I did know. I didn’t know if you knew.”
Clark sighed. As much as he enjoyed working with Batman, respected his intellect, and just generally wanted to spend as much time with the Bat as possible for completely selfish reasons, the man could be very infuriating at times. “What?”
Batman shifted his weight from one foot to another. In Batspeak—which Clark was fluent in—that meant he was uncomfortable and realized he may have overstepped. “I didn’t know how much research you had done on Kent. And you haven’t addressed my third point yet.”
Batman was irritating, frustrating, stubborn, and impossible to deal with. Clark fully understood why Green Lantern constantly poked at him and the rest of the Justice League didn’t socialize with him. And Rao, Clark loved him through all of it.
“There are many people on this planet I care about. Some of them are in Metropolis and some of them aren’t,” Clark said softly. Some of them live in Gotham, he didn’t say. “Their existence doesn’t distract me—it motivates me. If I protect the city and save everyone, I save them, too.”
Batman didn’t reply immediately and Clark refused to break the silence. Instead, he took the opportunity to look at Batman, to truly look at him, and catalog everything he saw. Here was an ordinary human who had used his wits and skills to transform himself into a hero who could stand beside demigods, aliens, and metas. Clark had seen him battered, bruised, and bloody yet refusing to back down.
Nobody motivated Clark more than Batman.
“For the record, I still think this relationship is a bad idea. But,” Batman paused, the white lenses that covered his eyes seemingly fixed onto Clark’s unearthly blue ones, “I can’t stop you from seeing Kent. It’s your choice.”
“Yes, it is,” Clark agreed.
Batman grunted. Clark was also fluent in Batman’s grunts and knew that the pitch, tone, and length meant that Batman was done with the conversation and ready to disappear again. Clark didn’t want Batman to leave—he never wanted Batman to leave—but he was beginning to tire of talking about himself in the third person. Who knew that pretending to date yourself would be so complicated?
“We have a meeting in thirty minutes. Don’t be late, Superman.”
Clark smiled in relief. The relationship talk was over and the conversation had turned to more familiar topics. “When am I ever late?”
Batman turned and opened the meeting room door but he didn’t exit immediately. Instead, he waited for Clark to join him and they walked into the hallway, side by side. “You were late last month.”
“That was extenuating circumstances. I was a little busy preventing a bridge from collapsing.”
“Excuses. Next, you’ll tell me that your dog ate your mission report.” Batman’s mouth looked as firm as ever but the teasing tone in his voice was unmistakable.
“One time! That happened once and you’ll never let me forget it. Why do you hate the dog so much?”
As they walked down the hallway together, continuing to argue about Krypto, mission reports, and which city had the best pizza parlors—Metropolis, obviously—Clark felt like the world was back in sync. No evil schemes from Luthor or salacious headlines about Superman and his cornfed lover could drag the smile from Clark’s lips, not when he had a Bat to banter with.
Clark was very relieved when he landed back in Metropolis. The Justice League meeting had been relatively straightforward as there had been no major incidents lately and no intel about any looming threats. Batman hadn’t presented any of his far too long and far too in-depth PowerPoints about tactics, poisons, cybersecurity, or whatever other topic he was fixated on that week. The actual discussion part of the meeting had been over and done within fifteen minutes—a new record.
With the business part of the meeting out of the way, the members of the Justice League moved on to more general chatter and it had taken around thirty seconds before Green Lantern had mentioned Clark Kent. The meeting had then descended into Lantern and Flash entertaining themselves with as many journalism puns as they could think of, Wonder Woman explaining how important it was for warriors to have a good support system, and Green Arrow criticizing the mainstream media for not holding the establishment to account enough.
Batman remained silent throughout the entire ordeal instead of cutting the conversation off as Clark would have expected and he didn’t know how to feel about that. Was that the Bat’s way of showing support for his fake relationship? Or was Batman washing his hands of the entire situation and choosing to ignore it?
Either way, Clark had been the first one out of the door when the meeting was adjourned and he was fifty feet in the air before Batman had even finished standing from his seat. He needed to put as much distance between himself and the Hall of Justice as he could manage.
Clark hated sitting there and lying to his Justice League colleagues. Sure, they could be a little irritating at times, and with their civilian identities remaining secret there was an impossible distance between them, but he still felt guilty. They were his comrades in arms. He regularly put his life in their hands and held theirs in his. He shouldn’t lie to them about something like this, even if it was unrelated to their work as the Justice League.
As Clark was contemplating the ethics of lying to the League about dating himself, the sounds of a factory fire in Chile reached his ears and he headed south, eager to help. There was no room for second-guessing himself when he had lives to rescue.
Clark arrived back in Metropolis two hours later. Nobody had been injured in the fire and he hadn’t thought about his moral quandary once, so he considered it a successful two hours. However, as soon as he crossed the border back into Metropolis and saw the skyscrapers of the city he called home all of those thoughts came racing back.
The photos of Superman leaving Clark Kent’s apartment made Clark more cautious than before so instead of heading straight home, he landed on the roof of a nearby building and changed into his civilian clothes there. Clark had a few places around the city that he considered safe zones—places where the Metropolis architecture meant that they couldn’t be spied on from any angle but directly above. Billboards, maintenance sheds, and high walls could provide ample cover when Superman was injured or simply needed to rest and didn’t want the public to know. Now, they were Clark Kent’s personal changing rooms and he had clothes stashed at them all.
Clark changed into a flannel shirt and jeans, put his glasses on, and shoved his Supersuit into his bag. He gave himself a couple of seconds to breathe deeply and collect his thoughts before he headed down the fire escape to the street below.
His apartment was only a couple of blocks away and Clark made the journey without really thinking about anything. When his supersenses had first developed as a kid he had worked hard to learn how to clear his mind and block everything out and he did this now. He didn’t notice the buildings he walked past or the people on the street. He climbed the stairs to his apartment on auto-pilot and thought only of the repetitive action of putting one foot in front of the other.
As soon as Clark entered his apartment, however, the world came rushing back. He couldn’t pinpoint it at first, but there was something distinctly wrong and out of place. At first glance, everything looked correct but Clark could sense in the air that something was different.
And then he heard it.
A heartbeat.
A very familiar heartbeat.
Clark placed his bag down by the door, toed off his shoes, and walked further into the open-plan living room and kitchen. No human would have sensed that heartbeat so Clark pretended he didn’t and simply waited for his guest to make himself known.
“Clark Kent.”
Clark jumped in surprise and it was only partially faked. Batman stepped out of the shadows like they were a part of him and walked forward a few steps until he stood in the center of Clark’s very small apartment. The only lights in the apartment came from the streetlights outside and in that dull lighting, Batman looked terrifying. His cowl was all harsh angles and the cape concealed his body, making him look like something out of a horror movie. Clark had never appreciated how truly frightening Batman could be before.
It was surreal seeing Batman here. Clark very successfully kept his lives as Clark Kent and Superman separate—or at least he had until he was forced to date himself—and seeing Batman here, in Clark’s apartment, with photos of his family on his wall, his favorite books on the shelves, and his dirty laundry in the hamper, felt like a strange dream.
Clark had occasionally dreamed of allowing Batman into this part of his life but he hadn’t dreamed it would happen like this. He couldn’t help but wonder yet again if Batman looked at the life of ordinary human Clark Kent and found it lacking.
“Batman!” Clark said. He tried to inject a hint of fear into his voice as he guessed that would be the usual reaction to finding Batman in your living room. “What are you– Why are you here?”
“Clark Kent,” Batman repeated. “Aged 32 years old, born February 29th, 1992. Adopted son of Jonathon and Martha Kent, residents of Smallville, Kansas. Birth parents unknown. Attended Smallville Elementary, Smallville Junior High, and Smallville High School. Grades were slightly above average. Played football until the age of twelve and began writing for the school newspaper at the age of thirteen. Studied journalism at the University of Metropolis, where you interned at the Daily Planet.”
Clark simply stared at Batman in stunned silence. Batman had no notes in his hand and there was no stern English voice speaking through Batman’s comm, either. He reeled all of this information off from memory. Clark knew that Batman could be very thorough when he was chasing a lead or investigating a person of interest. He had never expected that thoroughness to be focused on him.
“Batman, what are you—”
Batman cut him off. “Dated Lana Lang throughout high school. Only short-term relationships since then including one with fellow journalist Lois Lane. You send $300 home to your parents every month, owe $37,853 in student debt, and have only $1,726.39 in your bank accounts.”
Clark was stunned into silence once more. Trust Batman to know more about his finances than he did himself.
“You’ve done your research,” Clark said, laughing uneasily. “Why?”
Batman took another couple of steps forward. He was close enough now that even a human would have been able to see the textures of his mask, despite the poor lighting. “Superman.”
Clark might have considered banging his head against the wall if it would have done anything other than demolish the wall. Of course, this was about Superman. The decision to pretend to date himself was beginning to make him consider leaving town until the story had blown over. He’d always fancied spending a few weeks flying around the rings of Saturn.
“You needed to know about my student loans because of my—,” Clark sighed and then continued speaking, “because of my relationship with Superman?”
Batman didn’t reply.
Clark thought back to the conversation he’d had with Batman as Superman a few hours before. “You checked my finances to make sure I wasn’t on the payroll of someone who wanted to hurt him. Someone like Luthor?”
Again, silence.
“Well, I hope you’re satisfied that there was nothing to find. I suppose you still don’t trust me, though.”
“I don’t trust many people.”
That was the understatement of the century, Clark thought. “You trust Superman though, don’t you? He trusts you.”
Batman’s head jerked slightly. That was a clean hit. “I do trust Superman. And he trusts you. If you betray that trust, just remember that I know every single thing about you.”
Not quite everything. “I understand.”
Batman stepped back and somehow managed to navigate his way to Clark’s open window without bumping into any furniture. “I can destroy you in many different ways, Kent. Don’t give me a reason to.”
Batman slipped out of the window with a speed and grace that even Superman was impressed with. Clark didn’t move until he heard the familiar sound of Batman’s grapple gun deploying and his boots running across the roof of the apartment building next to Clark’s.
With Batman safely moving away from the apartment and apparently heading to the Batmobile parked three blocks away, Clark face-planted onto his couch and began to wonder exactly how his life had come to this point. One simple, careless mistake had led to that photograph being taken and now he had Lantern and Flash mocking him at every opportunity and Batman giving him a very threatening shovel talk.
Clark groaned into his couch cushions and wondered what he was going to do. His first instinct was to come clean and explain that Superman and Clark Kent were not dating and never had. But now that Batman had done his research—and how exactly had he found out about Lana Lang?—he would need a very good reason for why Superman had lied about it. Batman was used to meeting sources at all times of the day and in all kinds of weird places so that argument wouldn’t wash with him. There was no reason for Clark to lie about that.
So that left—what? Admitting his secret identity? Clark didn’t think he was ready for that. He didn’t think Batman was, either.
Clark lifted his head and reluctantly pulled himself back into a seated position. He needed to think about it some more. For now, he’d stick with the current plan—be as evasive as possible and hope that it all blows over.
But maybe Superman needed to speak to Batman first to make sure that he didn’t threaten Clark Kent again.
Two days later, Clark headed to the Hall of Justice. He knew Batman would be there, because short of a major planetary disaster or crisis in Gotham, Batman was always at the Hall of Justice on a Thursday evening. Batman said it was because he wanted to use the workshop facilities and Thursday evenings were the only day that worked for him, but Clark suspected it was a way for Batman to make himself available to the other Justice League members for guidance without explicitly saying his door was open. Of course, the Bat would never do anything as clear as actually telling everyone they could come and see him because he was as opaque as a plank of wood.
It wasn’t that unusual for Clark to drop by the workshop on Thursday evenings to see Batman. It was difficult to keep up with the Bat—especially as Superman was effectively banned from Gotham—so Thursday evenings became a way to shoot the breeze, catch up, and argue about whatever topic was on Batman’s mind that day. It was often the highlight of Clark’s week.
Considering the reason why he was coming to see Batman this time, Clark didn’t think it would be the highlight of the week for either him or Batman.
Batman was in the workshop as expected and had his grapple gun laid out across the workbench in a million pieces. Clark knew that Batman made his own gear so it wasn’t unexpected to find him making upgrades or repairs on a Thursday evening. Clark didn’t know—but did suspect strongly—that Batman had a workshop of his own somewhere that was just as well equipped as the one at the Hall of Justice and that his work here was just so he would look busy if anyone came to talk to him.
“Superman,” Batman said as a greeting when Clark entered the workshop.
Although Batman didn’t take his eyes off the cogs in his hand, Clark wasn’t surprised that Batman recognized who had just walked through his workshop door. Batman told him once that he had a very distinct way of walking but Clark wondered if Batman was expecting him.
“What have you been up to the last few days?” Clark asked. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”
Batman still didn’t look at Clark but he did stop what he was doing and fell still. “Kent talked to you?”
Clark decided to sidestep that question as he didn’t think talking to himself counted. “I don’t appreciate you digging into Clark’s past. I told you, I trust him.”
“You trust everyone.”
“And your approach of expecting the worst at all times is better?” Clark sighed and took a moment before speaking again. Nobody could make him frustrated as quickly as Batman but he refused to allow it to happen. Not in this conversation. “I presume you didn’t find anything.”
“That doesn’t mean there’s nothing to find.”
“C’mon, Batman. You’re the best at finding dirt on people. Do you really think that Clark could have hidden anything from one of your background checks?”
Batman didn’t respond.
“And this isn’t an excuse to keep looking, either. Leave him alone.”
Batman placed the cogs down on the work desk and finally turned to look at Superman. In the stark lighting of the workshop, he looked very different from how he had appeared in Clark’s apartment two days earlier. The Bat really was created to operate in the dark and shadows because, in the light, it was obvious how human he was.
“Don’t tell me what to do, Superman.”
“No, I think I will,” Clark said, feeling his frustration rise again only this time, he didn’t attempt to push it back down. “You’re not going to break into Clark’s apartment again and you’re not going to go digging into his past, either. You found out how much student loan debt he has! How does that matter?”
“People with debt can be manipulated and he has a lot of debt.”
“It’s student loan debt, Batman. It’s not the kind of debt you need to take bribes for to pay off. Anyone who attended college and didn’t have rich parents to pay for it has student loan debt.”
Batman’s lips tightened. For reasons unknown to Clark, he didn’t seem happy with that response. “It’s still a risk.”
“You can’t live your life governed by non-existent risks, Batman. Clark hasn’t done a single thing to justify having Batman on his case.”
“Not yet.”
Clark felt like screaming. “I understand that this is your weird Bat way of showing concern for my safety but it isn’t unnecessary or wanted. Stay away from Clark. No more background checks. No randomly appearing at his apartment. If you have a question about Clark, you ask me.”
Batman was not happy with everything Clark had just said if the way his hands tightened into fists was any indication, but he did incline his head in agreement. Clark supposed that was the best he was going to get.
“Okay. Good. Thank you,” Clark said. “So, what are you doing here with all of these parts anyway?”
Clark remained in the workshop with Batman for another hour and if the atmosphere was a little frostier than normal, he did his best to ignore it. Batman didn’t appreciate being told what he could and couldn’t do but Clark really didn’t want to have Batman following his every move, either.
Batman’s single-mindedness was just one of the many reasons why Clark liked him so much but he had to admit it was very unnerving when that focus was pointed at you. As much as he wanted Batman to know all about him, he didn’t want it to happen this way.
Hopefully, Batman would stay away and they could go back to their usual relationship where they challenged and teased each other while Clark hid a crush the size of the Arctic Circle.