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fragmentsofmyfixation · 2 years

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The Woes of Being a Butler (Father)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Clark Kent

Word Count: 1,750

Warnings: None

Summary: Master Bruce in his 27 years of life had never been what one would refer to as social. He hardly spoke to anyone that wasn’t Alfred or Detective Gordon which is why when Alfred finds him preparing to go out, he’s curious.

Alfred was suspicious. Master Bruce had never been one for social gatherings, or anything social period. He had always been a rather recluse child, something which only intensified after the death of his parents. Alfred was a military man who learned the ways of service after his time in British intelligence. He never had a chance to be a father. So when he was left to parent a traumatized young boy, he was clueless as to how to bring him out from this dark place that seemed to be swallowing him from the inside out.

He had tried cajoling the young boy to socialize with his peers but was met with icy rebuffs and anxious tears. He had hoped that Master Bruce’s years abroad would have helped him with his social anxiety, but he still shied away from making social connections and avoided public gatherings like the plague. This is why Alfred was at a loss when watching Master Bruce change his outfit for the fourth time tonight.

Seeing him in anything aside from his sleepwear and full Batman regalia was a sight for sore eyes. Alfred shook his head in bemusement as Master Bruce carded nervous fingers through his hair in a vain attempt to fix his bed head, eye his outfit with disgust, and then go into the closet to change once again. Alfred couldn’t stand by and say nothing.

“Any plans for tonight Master Bruce?”

Master Bruce dropped whatever he was holding, surprised by Alfred’s presence. He must have been deep inside his own head to not notice Alfred’s presence.

Yes, something was amiss indeed.

“Just out,” he replied, voice soft, eyes downturned.

Alfred wasn’t letting this go. “Yes, I can see that, what I’m asking is who your plans are with and what you will be doing. Is this for business? It wasn’t on your schedule.”

While Alfred couldn’t see the look on his face, Alfred knew it was flushing red from his lack of response.

Master Bruce came out from his hiding space closet with a look of nervous confidence.

Having built up enough courage Master Bruce blurted out, “I’m seeing a friend.”

Alfred’s mind stopped at the abrupt declaration before he composed himself once again.

“A friend?”

“Yes, a friend Alfred,” Master Bruce replied instantly.

Ah that type of friend.

“Does this friend happen to go by the name Selena Kyle?”

“No,” he answered immediately. “It’s someone else.”

“Excuse me for my rudeness but I was unaware you had actual friends, considering how your time is spent between searching for justice, avoiding the press, conversing with me, and sneakily trying to hide your food so I won’t force you to eat. I’m just surprised is all.”

Bruce fiddled with his tie —a nervous tick Alfred had noticed— without looking at him.

“It was that reporter, the one who came her for an interview a few months ago.”

Alfred dug up a name in his memories till he was able to match it with a face. Yes, he remembered that reporter, Clark Kent. He had hand picked him to interview Master Bruce because of his stellar record capturing the importance of the person he was interviewing and writing genuine articles instead of writing ludicrous headlines to sell tabloids. Master Bruce had refused stating that he didn’t want to be interviewed.

Stop being such a ninny Master Bruce it’s only an interview.

Bruce had only agreed at the promise of Alfred not bothering him about his sleep schedule —or lack thereof— for a week.

It’s the small victories Alfred supposes.

The day he had come to the manor, was the day right after Master Bruce had fallen from a rooftop, making his mood even more withdrawn. Mister Kent’s charm had managed to pull a few reluctant half smiles out of Master Bruce. All was going well till Mister Kent noticed the bruising on his torso when the hem of Master Bruce’s shirt had risen up as he reached for a mug.

Mister Kent’s worry seemed genuine when he asked if Master Bruce was alright. His face was stricken with panic as he apologized for coming over when he was hurt and insisting that Bruce should have canceled the interview.

“You came here from Metropolis Mr. Kent, cancelling at last minute would have been inappropriate. I’ve already iced the bruise and have been banned from rock climbing by my butler.”

“Your health trumps our interview. I could’ve done a phone interview from my hotel. Seriously Mr. Wayne, you need to pay better attention to your health!”

Alfred remembered the memory fondly, the sight of Bruce feeling properly chagrined and having a regular conversation, with someone his age no less had made Alfred’s year.

However, it seemed that the status of their relationship had changed, and while Alfred respected and approved of him as a reporter and possible friend, he wanted to know what his intentions were with Master Bruce. And he also abhorred being blindsided like this.

“Have you two been keeping in touch?” Alfred asked, voice devoid of any emotion.

Master Bruce seemed to sense Alfred’s tone and answered cautiously. “Well, at first, he sent a follow up email with his article attached and asked how my bruises were healing. I know you’re always telling me how genuine compliments and nice conversation are the keys to the beginning of friendship so I complimented him on the article. It was well written and didn’t have anything I told him not to write in it.”

Alfred nodded, remembering the well written article and how impressed he was.

“After that we continued to exchange emails and he sent me one last week saying he was in Gotham and asked if he could take me out,” Master Bruce said, getting quieter towards his last admission.

“And when were you going to tell me this?” Alfred asked, hurt seeping into his usual sarcastic tone.

Master Bruce looked chagrined at the disappointment leaking into his voice and ducked his head sorrowfully. “It’s not that I wanted to hide it Alfred. I just..” he struggled to find the words, “I just didn’t know if it would last and didn’t want to disappoint you. I know how happy you were when I met Selina and conversely how sad you were when we didn’t work out and I was alone again. I just didn’t want to disappoint you with another failed relationship.”

Another failed attempt at happiness. Is what went unsaid.

The hardness in Alfred’s face softened. His ward was truly one of a kind.

“I’m assuming you’ve ran a background check on the lad before agreeing to go out with him?” Alfred questioned ignoring the charged atmosphere.

Sadness was replaced by cockiness as he replied, “Of course I did, I’m Batman. And I’m sure you ran a background check before scheduling the interview.”

Alfred acquiesced to his point and looked at his ward lovingly. Hesitance crept back into Master Bruce’s expression, seemingly thinking Alfred was still upset with him.

Instead of responding with words that would make them both overly emotional, he decided to give some much needed fashion advice.

“I suggest going with the white turtleneck, a leather jacket, and black slacks,” Alfred advised before leaving the room.

Alfred was reading over Gotham Gazette’s newest paper when he heard the doorbell ring. Before he could stand up to answer it Master Bruce had raced down the stairs, checking his hair one last time in the living room mirrors before approaching the door.

Alfred smiled in his tea at his ward’s thinly concealed excitement. He got up and put on a pejorative mask. He was just in time to see Master Bruce open the door. Mister Kent had brought a bouquet of an admittedly beautiful assortment of flowers.

“Hi,” Clark greeted timidly.

“Hi,” Master Bruce replied bashfully.

“Greetings,” Alfred interrupted standing between the two. Both men were startled out of their bubble. Bruce seemed mortified, cheeks flushing red for the third time tonight. Clark held out his hand in greeting.

“It’s nice to see you again Mr. Pennyworth.”

Alfred didn’t spare at a glance at the outstretched hand and replied, “I wish I could say the same. I wasn’t aware you took a romantic interest in Master Bruce.”

Master Bruce whispered an embarrassed “Alfred!” before apologizing profusely to Mister Kent.

The reporter laughed, seemingly unperturbed.

“It didn’t start off that way. I was genuinely concerned with his recovery. Then we started talking and while Bruce’s replies were a bit…” he paused searching for the right words. “Stilted at first, I was enamored with his quick wit and straightforward personality. I knew it was a long shot asking him out, I’m sure he has potential suitors knocking down doors for the chance to take him out.”

As Mister Kent continued talking, both Master Bruce and Alfred collectively decided not to mention how he’s barely even seen outside of the house, let alone propositioned.

“But my ma always tells me, ‘Clark, you’ll never know if you don’t try’ so I decided to give it a shot and felt like the luckiest man on earth when I read Bruce’s email agreeing to a date.”

Master Bruce leaned back on his heels as he fiddled with the hem of his turtleneck, another nervous tick of his.

“You see Alfred, Clark’s nice,” Master Bruce defended, cheeks bright red, eyes staring in admiration at the reporter.

Alfred internally rolled his eyes at the sight before him. What would those residing in the underbelly of Gotham, think of the scary Batman, the force of vengeance and justice that tears through Gotham’s most dangerous streets like paper every night, blushing like a love-sick teenage girl, wooed by a reporter’s country charm.

Alfred still wasn’t completely sold on Mister Kent, but decided to give his approval, for now.

“Have him home by 11.”

“I’m 27 Alfred, I don’t have a curfew,” he stated indignantly.

Alfred didn’t reply and gave him a nonplussed look. Master Bruce seemed to realize he was serious and leaned close enough to whisper something in his ear.

“12:30 tops Alfred, please?”

Alfred could hear the pout in his voice and resigned himself to tracking their whereabouts in the bat cave if he wasn’t home at 12:30 on the dot.

“Alright lad, have fun.”

Master Bruce gave a small smile before joining Mister Kent to his car. Alfred shut the door and smiled to himself, his ward was finally growing up. The deceased Masters would be proud.

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