Work Text:
Bruce Wayne did not consider himself a jealous man.
Mainly because, before Clark, he didn't care about anyone enough to actually get jealous. If any of his short, short relationships showed interest in someone else, great! He’s open to a threesome!
Now that he has Clark, though, well, he trusts him enough to not be unfaithful. Clark’s always been a fan of good communication in a relationship. Which, well, Bruce didn't exactly know why he chose Batman, of all people, if it was that important to him, but he wasn't complaining. The point was that they've had years to work on Bruce’s doubts about whether or not Clark genuinely wanted him or if he spent every waking moment beating himself up over the fact that he got billions of dollars out of their marriage. (The billionaire factor never actually came up in their conversations, but Bruce was feeling melodramatic and Clark’s actual feelings on how “smart and thoughtful and wonderful” he found Bruce to be didn't exactly hit the same.) He still had doubts, of course. After all, it wasn't that easy to tear down decades worth of fortified walls meant to protect one’s heart from harm. But at least he now knew to actually communicate with Clark whenever he was feeling said doubts, instead of locking himself up in the cave and setting up aerosolized Kryptonite traps in all of the entrances in a valiant effort to keep a certain someone away. That had been a miserable few months, and Bruce was not keen on repeating the experience.
What was he saying?
Oh yes!
So, as you can clearly see, Bruce has never been a jealous man.
And, well, sure he’d never ever ever let anyone else into their marriage bed, but that was purely for security reasons. After all, he couldn't let anyone be in a threesome with Superman and Batman, even if they didn't know it. That was just an unnecessary security risk. It had nothing at all to do with the fact that Bruce was sure he had steam coming out of his ears every time he thought of Clark with anyone but himself.
He was not a jealous man.
But he’s been having a bad day, what with meetings being a bitch and new injuries being a pain and old injuries resurfacing just for the hell of it.
And this asshole perched on Bruce’s husband's desk was Not Helping.
Bruce could practically hear the smoke alarms going off from the amount of steam his ears were most likely emitting.
Asshole #14 of Bruce’s day (he’s had a lot of meetings today, okay? This asshole was the worst one of the lot, but he certainly wasn't the first.) leaned forward and put his hand on Clark’s forearm and hell no.
Bruce stormed out of the elevator and towards his husband to pick him up for their lunch date because it was Wednesday and Bruce has been doing this every week for years now and if he doesn't take his goddamn hand off of Clark’s arm he’s actually going to lose it. Whether that meant Bruce was going to lose his mind or Asshole #14 was going to lose his hand… well that was up to interpretation. Both, maybe. Bruce was a big fan of both.
He heard a distinctly amused “uh oh” from the direction of Lois’s desk. He had her scarf in his bag that she had forgotten when she'd dropped by the manor for dinner yesterday. He’d promised to return it, but he had more pressing matters to attend to currently. He would give it back in an hour, once Clark’s lunch break was over.
Or maybe they wouldn't come back. Bruce owned the Planet, anyway. He could give Clark a half day off. It would show this guy. And, again, the billionaire angle wasn't part of Clark’s argument for why he loved Bruce, but… it couldn't hurt, surely.
“Clark!” He tried to keep his voice light and airy and not like he wished he had Superman’s heat vision so that there would be a funny little human-shaped pile of ash on Clark’s desk that would be so easy to sweep into a trash can and forget about.
Batman didn't kill, but Bruce Wayne was desperately wishing he had fewer morals.
Clark spun his chair around (dislodging the hand on his arm, hah) and broke into a wide grin. “Bruce!”
If Bruce was less aware of what Clark looked like when he was interested in someone, he might have been more relieved at the sight of Clark’s clear joy at seeing him. But Bruce did know what interest looked like on him, and there had been no leaning in, no soft smiles, no crinkling around those blue eyes. Which meant Clark wasn't flirting back. Which, yeah, Bruce could've told you that. But he was also not discouraging the flirting. Which meant that he had no idea it was even happening.
Not for the first time, Bruce wondered how the hell this man was an investigative journalist.
Clark stood up as Bruce (very calmly) strolled up to his desk. He leaned down to kiss him, and if Bruce grabbed the back of his neck and dragged him in for a less-than-appropriate-for-the-workplace kiss, well, that was nobody’s business but his own. And Clark’s. But definitely not this guy’s.
Clark pulled back much too soon and turned away to shove his laptop and various files into his bag.
Bruce took a moment to (very calmly) look at the man still perched on Clark’s desk. He was not glaring and he did not appreciate the snickering coming from Lois’s direction.
Clark turned back around, bag slung over his shoulder. He followed Bruce’s gaze and said, “Oh yeah! Bruce, this is Derek. He just started this Monday! Derek, this is my husband Bruce.” Derek. Stupid name for a stupid man with a stupid face.
Derek did not seem to be intimidated by Bruce’s glare and was instead, to Bruce’s growing horror, glaring back. As though he was the one in the wrong! He wasn't the one hitting on married men, thank you very much. Clark had a ring on his finger! How was he the bad guy here?!
Clark somehow did not sense the hostility between the two of them (again, he was supposed to be an investigative journalist. What was he even investigating? Not social cues, that's for sure.) and just offered his hand to Bruce. “Ready to go?”
Bruce grabbed it with one hand and wrapped his other around Clark’s forearm for maximum possessiveness. Then he (very calmly) yanked him towards the elevator and (very calmly) hammered on the down button.
He’s been so calm throughout this entire interaction.
The moment the doors closed, Bruce rounded on Clark.
“How are you married?”
“What?”
“How are you married?”
“No, I heard you the first time. My point stands: what?”
“Did you seriously not realize he was flirting with you?”
“Wha- Derek?”
“Yes, Derek!”
“No, he wasn't!”
Bruce let out a loud groan and buried his face in Clark’s shoulder. The doors opened on the ground floor and they stepped out together, heading towards the place they’d gone to almost every single Wednesday since they began dating.
“What do you mean ‘how are we married?’”
“No, no, not we. You. I know how I’m married. Because I decided to flirt shamelessly with the cute journalist I kept bumping into. But how did you ever realize I was flirting with you?”
“Well, you weren't very subtle.”
“Neither was he!” Now that stupid Derek with his stupid face was no longer in the vicinity, Bruce’s bad mood had already nearly disappeared and he was feeling more amused than anything.
Clark squinted at him. “You aren’t jealous, are you?”
“No! But you can’t blame me for wanting him to keep his grubby paws off of my man.”
“So you are jealous.” Oh, great. Now he was amused too. He'd never live this one down.
“Absolutely not.” Bruce growled.
Clark just snorted and fell silent. Bruce glanced up to see his (incredibly attractive) thinking face. (Like, seriously attractive. Like, ‘how did Bruce get this lucky’ attractive.)
They stopped at an intersection and Clark squeezed his hand.
“Maybe because he’s not you.” He murmured.
“Sorry?”
“Maybe I didn't realize he was flirting with me because he wasn't you so it didn't matter.”
And that was… that was sweet. He might be truly abysmal at recognizing social cues, but he always knew the right things to say to make Bruce’s insides go all warm and fuzzy.
Bruce smiled at the ground and nestled in closer to Clark’s side. Just because it was a cold day and he ran hot, of course. No other reason.
And if Derek was mysteriously transferred to a different desk on a different floor of the building, with absolutely no reason why he would ever pass by a certain Clark Kent’s desk?
Well, Bruce was just looking out for his employees’ wellbeing and productivity.
He wasn't a jealous man, after all.
