battinscnz

[battinscnz]

#SUPERBAT ― 𝒊 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒆𝒍𝒔𝒆'𝒔 𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒅

[battinscnz]

I can't decide

[battinscnz]

[battinscnz]

𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑺𝑬 𝑸𝑼𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 // 𝑨 𝑺𝑼𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝒀

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Bruce Wayne (The Batman) , Clark Kent (Superman)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent, SuperBat

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 13/? (49,336)

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Bruce Wayne (The Batman) , Clark Kent (Superman), SuperBat, Bruce/Clark, Pattinson!Batman, Corenswet!Superman, Human!AU, Body-guard!Clark Kent, Stalker!AU, Enemies to Lovers,

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Stalking, Violence, Dark-themes, PTSD, Eventual Smut

Bruce Wayne is no stranger to the spotlight—or the shadows it casts. Reclusive, haunted by tragedy, and heir to a name that carries more weight than comfort, he now faces something far more personal than public scrutiny: a stalker. The letters arrive like clockwork—taunting, obsessive, familiar. And with Halloween approaching—the anniversary of his parents' death—the tension coils tighter.

Clark Kent is a disciplined, quietly intense MMA-trained security specialist, brought in under General Sam Lane’s orders to keep Bruce safe. He expects a job. He doesn’t expect the gothic cold of Wayne Manor, the brooding silence of its only resident, or the unsettling depth of what Bruce refuses to say out loud.

But as danger creeps closer, and the mystery surrounding the stalker sharpens, Bruce and Clark are forced into uncomfortable proximity. What begins as resistance slowly becomes something deeper—something fragile and real.

𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑺𝑬 𝑸𝑼𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 // 𝑨 𝑺𝑼𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝒀

The afternoon light had waned into a soft amber wash that stretched long shadows across the manor floors. The kind of light that should’ve brought warmth, but here, it only painted dust in gold and drew hard edges from the towering arches of the old house. Bruce stood in the grand main room beneath the gothic beams that creaked faintly overhead with age and storm-weather. He was alone now.

The rounded table in the center groaned slightly as he pushed it aside, calloused hands pressing against its heavy oak surface. Its legs scraped the stone flooring as it moved - a sound that echoed hollowly in the cavernous space. 

His pants hung low on his hips, loosely buttoned but half-forgotten. He hadn’t bothered with a shirt. Sweat clung to the muscles of his back, still flushed from the sparring hours before, or maybe from the dreams he hadn’t spoken of. His shoulder blades moved in sharp rhythm as he worked, the stretch of his spine tight, purposeful.

On the floor beneath where the table had been, concealed beneath the layered rug, was a small panel—nothing obvious. He knelt down, fingers brushing across the edge until he felt the lip of it give. A hiss of air as it unlatched, and he opened it with practiced quiet.

Inside was a compartment - small, lined in matte black steel, and filled with shadows that didn’t catch the light. Bruce reached in and pulled out a sealed folder, thick, heavy with notes and evidence - things he had not shown Clark. 

Things Alfred had never been allowed to see.

Photos. Scratched-down theories. 

Maps of Gotham marked with Xs, symbols, red circles that had bled through the paper from being pressed too hard. A taped-off corner of a letter. Something torn, half-burned, something left behind at a crime scene that never made the official reports.

He laid them out slowly across the floor, bare feet moving between the scattered papers. His gaze flicked from one detail to the next, reading the story no one else had pieced together yet. 

His jaw tightened. The silence of the manor was suffocating, broken only by the distant sound of the old pipes ticking and settling.

He hadn’t meant to keep this from Clark. But part of him still believed that if he let someone too close - if he let Clark shoulder the same darkness - then he would destroy the very light that had started to bloom between them.

And yet, Clark had seen him. All of him. And he hadn’t turned away.

[battinscnz]

They never kissed in the daylight. But Clark would lie there for a moment longer, watching Bruce sleep — memorizing the curve of his spine, the quiet bruises on his hips, the things they could never say aloud.

[battinscnz]

𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑺𝑬 𝑸𝑼𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 // 𝑨 𝑺𝑼𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝒀

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Bruce Wayne (The Batman) , Clark Kent (Superman)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent, SuperBat

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 12/? (45,791)

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Bruce Wayne (The Batman) , Clark Kent (Superman), SuperBat, Bruce/Clark, Pattinson!Batman, Corenswet!Superman, Human!AU, Body-guard!Clark Kent, Stalker!AU, Enemies to Lovers,

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Stalking, Violence, Dark-themes, PTSD, Eventual Smut

Bruce Wayne is no stranger to the spotlight—or the shadows it casts. Reclusive, haunted by tragedy, and heir to a name that carries more weight than comfort, he now faces something far more personal than public scrutiny: a stalker. The letters arrive like clockwork—taunting, obsessive, familiar. And with Halloween approaching—the anniversary of his parents' death—the tension coils tighter.

Clark Kent is a disciplined, quietly intense MMA-trained security specialist, brought in under General Sam Lane’s orders to keep Bruce safe. He expects a job. He doesn’t expect the gothic cold of Wayne Manor, the brooding silence of its only resident, or the unsettling depth of what Bruce refuses to say out loud.

But as danger creeps closer, and the mystery surrounding the stalker sharpens, Bruce and Clark are forced into uncomfortable proximity. What begins as resistance slowly becomes something deeper—something fragile and real.

𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑺𝑬 𝑸𝑼𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 // 𝑨 𝑺𝑼𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝒀

The silence between them was the kind that didn’t need filling.

Outside the car, the world passed in slow-motion blurs - smeared amber and bruised violet melting across the Gotham skyline as the sun began its descent. 

Shadows stretched long across the streets, spilling over alleys and cracked sidewalks like spilled ink. The city, in its eternal way, was still moving - cars honking in the distance, the murmur of life continuing. But inside the vehicle, there was only stillness.

Clark kept his hands steady on the wheel, his eyes flickering toward Bruce every so often.

Bruce hadn’t spoken since they’d left the hospital. Not a word. 

He just sat there, quiet, looking out the window like the whole city had disappeared and there was nothing left to see.

His jaw was locked, hands clenched on his thighs, one knee bouncing faintly with unspent energy - adrenaline still riding his system, or maybe it was something else. Maybe it was grief. Maybe it was guilt.

Clark didn’t push. He just drove.

The tires hummed over the asphalt. The light blinked in a slow, solemn rhythm across Bruce’s face - casting him in gold, then in shadow. Back and forth. Like the city didn’t know whether to forgive him or swallow him whole.

When the car finally pulled through the iron gates of Wayne Manor, the dusk had deepened into a violet haze. The storm had passed, but the ground was still slick with its aftermath, and the last remnants of sun kissed the rooftops of the old estate like a final farewell.

Bruce didn’t move to get out at first. Clark turned the engine off and waited.

Eventually, Bruce opened the door, stepped out, and walked slowly, like the very air was heavier tonight. Clark followed, never far, his footsteps quiet against the stone path. The house loomed tall and cold around them, a monolith of memory and legacy.

They walked the corridor in silence.

When they reached the threshold of Bruce’s bedroom, Clark hesitated. He didn’t mean to follow him all the way, but his feet had carried him forward instinctively, like some part of him couldn’t let Bruce disappear behind another door without being sure he was okay.

Bruce turned slightly, his face a pale silhouette in the darkened doorway.

Clark cleared his throat, voice low. - I’ll be just outside, - he said. - You don’t have to worry. I’ll be guarding the door - with my life, if it comes to it.

He meant it.

Every word.

Bruce stood there, still facing away, like stone carved in a cathedral. His shoulders were hunched slightly - not with weakness, but weariness. He looked like someone who had gone ten rounds with a god and survived, but only barely.

Clark took a step back.

But before he could fully retreat, Bruce finally turned.

His voice came out quiet. Raw. Not broken, but close.

- Clark…

Clark froze.

[battinscnz]

Can’t decide which SuperBat story to post first — want to help me choose?

1. Firefighter AU – 🔥 Clark's a firefighter in Smallville. Bruce is just there on business - until things between them start burning a little too hot to ignore. 2. College AU – 🚪 Living across the hall in a cramped apartment complex, Bruce can't stop watching Clark - especially when he keeps answering the door in less and less clothing.

Rockstar AU – 🎸 Bruce Wayne is on tour with "Nocturnal Animals." The Daily Planet scored an interview, and now it's up to Clark Kent to keep his cool around the infamous rockstar.

[battinscnz]

𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑺𝑬 𝑸𝑼𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 // 𝑨 𝑺𝑼𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝒀

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Bruce Wayne (The Batman) , Clark Kent (Superman)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent, SuperBat

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 11/? (41,751)

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Bruce Wayne (The Batman) , Clark Kent (Superman), SuperBat, Bruce/Clark, Pattinson!Batman, Corenswet!Superman, Human!AU, Body-guard!Clark Kent, Stalker!AU, Enemies to Lovers,

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Stalking, Violence, Dark-themes, PTSD, Eventual Smut

Bruce Wayne is no stranger to the spotlight—or the shadows it casts. Reclusive, haunted by tragedy, and heir to a name that carries more weight than comfort, he now faces something far more personal than public scrutiny: a stalker. The letters arrive like clockwork—taunting, obsessive, familiar. And with Halloween approaching—the anniversary of his parents' death—the tension coils tighter.

Clark Kent is a disciplined, quietly intense MMA-trained security specialist, brought in under General Sam Lane’s orders to keep Bruce safe. He expects a job. He doesn’t expect the gothic cold of Wayne Manor, the brooding silence of its only resident, or the unsettling depth of what Bruce refuses to say out loud.

But as danger creeps closer, and the mystery surrounding the stalker sharpens, Bruce and Clark are forced into uncomfortable proximity. What begins as resistance slowly becomes something deeper—something fragile and real.

𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑺𝑬 𝑸𝑼𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 // 𝑨 𝑺𝑼𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝒀

SIRENS ECHOED THROUGH THE VALLEY.

The grounds of Wayne Manor were awash in red and blue strobing lights as the first firetrucks broke through the wrought iron gates. Smoke coiled thick and angry into the sky, an ominous black plume rising from the western side of the estate where stone had buckled, and fire licked the evening air like some kind of omen. 

The wind carried ash like snow.

Clark stood just beyond the shattered garden entrance, his chest still rising and falling from the sprint down the corridor. His shirt was smeared with soot, bare arms streaked with smoke and sweat. His eyes scanned the wreckage - but his focus, all of it, was on Bruce.

Bruce stood frozen, just short of the west wing’s collapsed entry, posture stiff, his entire body caught in the pull of something primal. His fists clenched at his sides. His mouth slightly open. It was as if time had folded back into itself. Smoke and grief and the taste of fire - he'd been here before. 

Just like this.

Clark saw the shift in him. The way Bruce’s chest hitched. The way his knees buckled slightly, like his body had moved before his mind had.

And then Bruce ran.

- Alfred - !

Clark was after him in a blink. His hand caught Bruce’s arm just before he could fully hurl himself into the burning wreckage.

- Bruce, - wait -

- No! - Bruce snapped, his voice hoarse, almost feral. - Let me go, he’s in there - he’s in there, I have to -

Smoke poured from the windows above. Flames still crackled, the roof of the west study had caved inward, stone and beam collapsed like bones. The blast had torn through the chamber with terrifying precision - a letter had been opened, and Alfred, ever cautious, had felt something was wrong. But it had been too late. 

A fraction too late.

Clark held tight to Bruce’s arm, gripping with both hands now. - They’re going in. Bruce - they’re already going in.

Firemen were storming the broken threshold in heavy suits, hoses snapping behind them like serpents. Shouts rang out. One called something over the radio. Another, nearer to the wreckage, turned back and yelled toward the paramedics at the back of the rig.

Bruce was still trying to push past him, all breath and instinct, hands trembling with fury and fear. - You don’t understand, Clark, he’s all I have - 

Clark stepped in, bracing Bruce’s chest with both hands, forcing the man to meet his eyes.

- I do understand, - he said, firm but low. -  But you need to trust me right now. You need to let them do their job.

Bruce looked back at him, eyes wild, smoke-stung. And something shattered in him. Not rage. Not pride. But desperation.

- Clark… - His voice cracked. - If he’s gone…

[battinscnz]

"Bruce Wayne Spotted with Long-Term Partner Clark Kent at Glamorous Gotham Gala (2025)"

[battinscnz]

𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑺𝑬 𝑸𝑼𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 // 𝑨 𝑺𝑼𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝒀

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Bruce Wayne (The Batman) , Clark Kent (Superman)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent, SuperBat

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10/? (39,009)

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Bruce Wayne (The Batman) , Clark Kent (Superman), SuperBat, Bruce/Clark, Pattinson!Batman, Corenswet!Superman, Human!AU, Body-guard!Clark Kent, Stalker!AU, Enemies to Lovers,

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Stalking, Violence, Dark-themes, PTSD, Eventual Smut

Bruce Wayne is no stranger to the spotlight—or the shadows it casts. Reclusive, haunted by tragedy, and heir to a name that carries more weight than comfort, he now faces something far more personal than public scrutiny: a stalker. The letters arrive like clockwork—taunting, obsessive, familiar. And with Halloween approaching—the anniversary of his parents' death—the tension coils tighter.

Clark Kent is a disciplined, quietly intense MMA-trained security specialist, brought in under General Sam Lane’s orders to keep Bruce safe. He expects a job. He doesn’t expect the gothic cold of Wayne Manor, the brooding silence of its only resident, or the unsettling depth of what Bruce refuses to say out loud.

But as danger creeps closer, and the mystery surrounding the stalker sharpens, Bruce and Clark are forced into uncomfortable proximity. What begins as resistance slowly becomes something deeper—something fragile and real.

𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑺𝑬 𝑸𝑼𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 // 𝑨 𝑺𝑼𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝒀

It had been three days since the funeral.

Three days since the SUV exploded through the doors of City Hall, since blood splattered the marble floors, and since Bruce had thrown himself into danger without a second thought to shield a grieving child. The images still haunted Clark, the thundering crash, the gasps, the sobbing, the boy’s wide, terrified eyes - And Bruce, silent in the aftermath, glass in his skin, soot smudging his jaw, and hands trembling so slightly it would’ve gone unnoticed to anyone else.

But Clark had seen it.

And now, the world was seeing something entirely different.

He stood near the vast windows of the manor’s west wing, arms crossed tightly across his chest, gaze trained not on the mist-veiled skyline of Gotham, but on the small television in the corner of the room. A talking head filled the screen, gesturing animatedly as they played the loop again - the footage slowed down and overanalyzed until it no longer resembled truth.

“Bruce Wayne, Gotham’s elusive billionaire and reluctant recluse, is under scrutiny tonight after dramatic footage at the Mayor’s funeral raises more questions than answers...”

Clark’s teeth ground against each other.

His jaw ached from how tightly he held it shut, his fingers clenched around his own biceps with white-knuckled force. His chest rose and fell in slow, controlled breaths - but his fury hummed just under the surface. 

He’d watched media spin stories before, but this… this was sick.

They painted Bruce as a suspect, a co-conspirator, even a manipulator - twisting his actions, questioning his intent, whispering rumors of calculated heroics. As if that boy hadn’t almost died. 

As if Bruce hadn’t dove into the path of a weaponized car with the desperation of someone who had lost too much already.

And Bruce? He said nothing.

Clark had watched him over the last few days - quiet, methodical, his expression a blank wall no one could climb. He wandered the manor like a ghost sometimes, his eyes dark and distant, his movements precise but aimless. There were no outbursts. No reactions to the headlines. No defense. No anger.

It drove Clark insane .

[battinscnz]

When the reclusive billionaire finally enters the spotlight you bet journalists Clark Kent wants to know what pushed him.

This is loosely inspired from the battinson and corenswet’s superman, a possible scene in the batman 2 perhaps? 👀

[battinscnz]

𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑺𝑬 𝑸𝑼𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 // 𝑨 𝑺𝑼𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝒀

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Bruce Wayne (The Batman) , Clark Kent (Superman)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent, SuperBat

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9/? (35,520)

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Bruce Wayne (The Batman) , Clark Kent (Superman), SuperBat, Bruce/Clark, Pattinson!Batman, Corenswet!Superman, Human!AU, Body-guard!Clark Kent, Stalker!AU, Enemies to Lovers,

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Stalking, Violence, Dark-themes, PTSD, Eventual Smut

Bruce Wayne is no stranger to the spotlight—or the shadows it casts. Reclusive, haunted by tragedy, and heir to a name that carries more weight than comfort, he now faces something far more personal than public scrutiny: a stalker. The letters arrive like clockwork—taunting, obsessive, familiar. And with Halloween approaching—the anniversary of his parents' death—the tension coils tighter.

Clark Kent is a disciplined, quietly intense MMA-trained security specialist, brought in under General Sam Lane’s orders to keep Bruce safe. He expects a job. He doesn’t expect the gothic cold of Wayne Manor, the brooding silence of its only resident, or the unsettling depth of what Bruce refuses to say out loud.

But as danger creeps closer, and the mystery surrounding the stalker sharpens, Bruce and Clark are forced into uncomfortable proximity. What begins as resistance slowly becomes something deeper—something fragile and real.

𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑺𝑬 𝑸𝑼𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 // 𝑨 𝑺𝑼𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝒀

Hours had passed since Bruce first stormed into the old gym tucked deep within the manor. Clark hadn’t said anything at first - he never had to. Bruce had spoken with his body, not with words. His jaw clenched, eyes burning, movements tight with restraint. The moment he tore the doorframe open, muttering something about needing to blow off some steam, space, movement - Clark had been right behind him.

And now… now they had burned through two hours of silence and sweat, their bodies the only things speaking.

Clark had spent enough time in military boot camps and black-ops MMA gyms to know the difference between someone who fights to win and someone who fights to feel . Bruce wasn’t in the ring for a trophy or a title. He was trying to crack something open. 

Something sealed inside his ribs like a ticking clock.

Clark had kept to the edge for most of the session, watching Bruce cycle through pull-ups, inverted sit-ups, heavy bag drills - pushing his body to a brutal edge. It was only when Bruce finally threw a pair of sparring gloves at him that he stepped in.

- Get in here, - Bruce had said flatly. - You’re the only one in this house who can actually hit me without Alfred screaming about internal bleeding.

Clark had grinned. - You sure about that?

- Shut up and move.

[battinscnz]

boyfriend who writes the headlines boyfriend who is the headline

[battinscnz]

𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑺𝑬 𝑸𝑼𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 // 𝑨 𝑺𝑼𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝒀

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Bruce Wayne (The Batman) , Clark Kent (Superman)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent, SuperBat

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7/? (27,834)

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Bruce Wayne (The Batman) , Clark Kent (Superman), SuperBat, Bruce/Clark, Pattinson!Batman, Corenswet!Superman, Human!AU, Body-guard!Clark Kent, Stalker!AU, Enemies to Lovers,

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Stalking, Violence, Dark-themes, PTSD, Eventual Smut

Bruce Wayne is no stranger to the spotlight—or the shadows it casts. Reclusive, haunted by tragedy, and heir to a name that carries more weight than comfort, he now faces something far more personal than public scrutiny: a stalker. The letters arrive like clockwork—taunting, obsessive, familiar. And with Halloween approaching—the anniversary of his parents' death—the tension coils tighter.

Clark Kent is a disciplined, quietly intense MMA-trained security specialist, brought in under General Sam Lane’s orders to keep Bruce safe. He expects a job. He doesn’t expect the gothic cold of Wayne Manor, the brooding silence of its only resident, or the unsettling depth of what Bruce refuses to say out loud.

But as danger creeps closer, and the mystery surrounding the stalker sharpens, Bruce and Clark are forced into uncomfortable proximity. What begins as resistance slowly becomes something deeper—something fragile and real.

𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑺𝑬 𝑸𝑼𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 // 𝑨 𝑺𝑼𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑩𝑨𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝒀

The manor felt unnaturally still. 

As if the chaos that had unfolded only hours ago had ripped a hole in its silence and let something colder in. Something that clung to the walls and floors and skin like frostbite.

Clark stood in the doorway of the medical room, his frame filling it, as if holding back the world outside. He hadn’t spoken since they got home. His hands had trembled once - on the steering wheel - but now they were tight fists at his sides, barely leashed.

Bruce sat quietly on the edge of the padded table, shirtless, the pale light catching the slope of his shoulders, the bruises beginning to bloom on his ribs like distant storm clouds. 

A thin line of blood trailed from his upper bicep where a shard of glass had sliced through him - clean and precise, but shallow.

He hadn’t said much since they arrived. 

He didn’t need to. The silence between them said enough.

Clark stepped forward, finally, and Bruce’s eyes flicked up, tired and unreadable. Still adrenaline-slick. Still wired with something heavy and lingering in his chest.

- Let me see it, - Clark said, voice low, not a question.

Bruce didn’t argue. Just shifted slightly, letting the cut show beneath the dried blood.

Clark knelt beside the small med kit, fingers pulling gauze and alcohol and a single band-aid from inside. He didn’t look up at Bruce again until the wipe was open in his hand and the sharp sting of antiseptic met skin.

Bruce flinched slightly, just at the coldness.

- Should’ve waited for me, - Clark said under his breath, his fingers steady on the skin around the wound, wiping gently.

Bruce let out a breath. - I saw a ten-year-old about to get hit by a car. I’m not wired to wait.

Clark didn’t answer. 

The silence was thick again, filled with all the things he wanted to say but couldn’t. Instead, he dipped his head lower, gently wiping the last of the dried blood away until only clean skin and a fresh pink welt remained.

The band-aid he peeled next was small. Almost ridiculous, given the gravity of the day. A stupid, skin-toned rectangle, as if a piece of paper could patch a bullet hole.

But still - he pressed it gently against Bruce’s bicep, smoothing it down with his fingers.

His hand lingered.

And when he looked up, Bruce was watching him.

Not with coldness. Not even resistance. Just tired eyes, hooded and soft in the low light, and something else - something uncertain - flickering there. Something fragile, and locked behind years of armor.

Clark’s breath caught.

He should’ve pulled back. Should’ve stood up. Said something dry or neutral or safe. But his hand stayed on Bruce’s arm, fingers still warm against cooling skin, and for a second - just one second - he let himself see Bruce.

The muscles taut under trauma. The sharp lines of his collarbone catching the light. The quiet heaviness in his gaze. The flicker of a pulse beneath his jaw.

- Clark, - Bruce said softly, almost like a warning. Or maybe a whisper.

[battinscnz]

Willed this slightly lemony corensupes and battinson horknee into existence cause they are too cute...

Full thing on twt @3lluon cause I'm afraid of getting bonked 🧍🏻‍♂️ if the link doesn’t work, pls try the ‘Source:…’ next to the tags!! Or search my username on twt directly!!꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱;;;

[battinscnz]

obsessed w them

[battinscnz]

these two not existing in the same universe is a hate crime to superbat shippers everywhere. but also??? they compliment each other super well! mister gunn, i need you to see the vision.