So... daemons. Animal of a different gender from yours = your soul. Tag one of the characters on here with a starter, post your own with or without a request for one of mine or play here as you like.
Batman looks out for ordinary people from ordinary evil; the kind of evil that took Dick's parents. And Bruce's. Dick doesn't know how to articulate how he feels about it - Metropolis is a shiny city that seems so perfect that it can't be real, and then sometimes Godzilla stomps through. He's not sure if it's better or worse than Gotham, which is not perfect, but doesn't have Brainiac.
Anyway--
"Flown one myself? No," Dick answers. "I've been on Bruce's. We went to Disney World." That admission seems a little shy, for whatever reason.
"He got to keep a picture of me in mouse ears," Bruce deadpans, and Dick turns to grin at him, good mood restored at the memory. They're coming to a break in the trail, more open expanses, and the two Gothamites have a sideline to discuss whether or not Dick's allowed to ride any faster through it. Bruce puts him through his form paces a bit first, then okays it.
Bruce stays where he is, indicating Clark should, as well. Letting Dick make the shaky transition through the horse's gate to a canter, not quite experienced enough for a gallop. He's on an older mare who knows her stuff, and the brightly colored bird soars above his head.
"He needs white noise," Bruce says quietly. Talking, laughing, playing, always moving, to keep him from thinking of his parents laying crumpled on the ground before him. "But it's exhausting. I think this helps him breathe a little."
"It does." Bruce glances down at Caterin, almost startled by her unbelievably rare verbal input in front of anyone. She's a sugar glider again, sitting against Bruce on the saddle. She'd know, though, Bruce thinks. She stalks to Dick and his daemon.
Clark gives Caterin a bit of a smile at her comment as Neoma flutters down to settle on his shoulder. He lets it settle in the air for a moment before glancing over at Bruce. There's so many things he could say, but he decides on none of them. Most of them aren't necessary, and the ones that aren't necessary will either come off poorly or simply not be believed. He knows Bruce well enough. Instead-
"I'm asking him if I can see the ears picture," he 'warns'.
Cue a long, sighed exhale. "I figured that'd be the case when I mentioned it, and yet I let myself fall on the grenade anyway." Look at all the noble sacrifices he makes, Clark, how could you do this. "I don't even know if he liked Disney World, actually. Aren't kids supposed to?"
World's Greatest Detective, and he can't figure out his kid just wants to spend time with him more than anything else.
If Clark had not been dating Bruce for quite some time, if he didn't know him so well, if he wasn't aware of the fact that despite admitting to having fallen for him within half an hours time and spending almost every available minute he had and could spend with Bruce, Bruce still thought Clark was going to get 'tired' of him, he would have stared. But he had and he did and he was aware of these things, which was why he just gives Bruce a wry little smile.
"That kid'd like it if you brought him to Sears, Bruce," he says with a tip of his chin towards Dick across the way. The smile widened a little.
"He happens to share my excellent taste and as such, enjoys spending time with you. Period. End of sentence."
Bruce just makes a 'hn' noise at that. It's occurred to him before, but he's never sure. There are plenty of parenting advice books out there, but none about an orphan vigilante with PTSD raising an orphan child with PTSD. And Dick is just so good and sweet, kindhearted and innocent. Bruce is always so careful around him because he doesn't want his own moody pitfalls to influence him.
"Well, I guess I didn't like Disney World either, when I was a kid." So there's that. Bruce who hates fun, Dick who feels embarrassed at the money being spent on him. What a pair.
"Ma baked a cake, usually," is pretty much the answer, "and we'd set up in the living room with some popcorn and some treats after we'd all had some and watch movies. Not much to it, honestly."
But it'd been good. Simple, but good.
"Usually it's carrot cake, since Pa's daemon is a rabbit. Always the joke. And Ma's is a goose so he enjoys the cake just fine as well. After Nee settled, she'd always get a little bowl of grapes or blueberries for the occasion."
It sounds perfect, honestly, and the soft look on Bruce's face probably gives away his thoughts on the matter. He'll always have a weakness for family, for the thing that was his whole world before his parents were murdered. People think that tragedy flipped a switch in him-- and it did, in a big way, but his parents were a buoy that kept his sensitive, prone-to-depression spirit afloat. Without them, and without them like that... here he is, now.
But he loves it. Loves knowing it still exists for other people, if not him.
"Sometimes I wonder if I should send Dick somewhere like that," he says with a sigh. "But I understand him... I don't know if it evens it out or not." Would a 'normal' parenting couple be able to comfort him and have it mean anything? Maybe not.
He can't help but look over at Bruce at that. Send him away? No. That's the worst idea, and not just because Bruce understands him. They've found something here, both of them. Giving up that bond would leave a scar, a nasty one, and he doesn't want either of them to live with that.
"Then how about if I'm still in his good graces by the next time his birthday rolls around," because he won't intrude, he refuses to intrude, "I'll make a cake, tomato soup and cream cheese icing if you want to be authentic, and we'll all settle in for some movies."
He's trying to do more than plan a party, but this is the only part he feels safe enough to broach, the only way.
You can have that too, he doesn't say. You can build that family for yourself.
Bruce thinks about it, because part of him believes it would be the responsible and better thing to do in the long run-- but he knows deep down that he's never giving Dick up. He loves him too much, even if it's selfish.
"I think he'd like that a lot," Bruce says quietly. His tone of voice says I'd like that too.
Dick returns in short order, bouncing in his saddle as his horse slows from her canter. Bruce laughs softly and shows him how to keep his heels down and his weight centered for an easier seat; Dick is so eager to learn from him. (It'll change. He'll be a teenager and he'll hate everything, but now, he's so desperate for his foster father's attention.) Another bit of trail wandering after that and Dick asks Bruce to show him jumps on another field, but they're a bit dilapidated and potentially not safe for the horses. He compromises by promising to get it fixed up, and letting Dick walk his horse over a fallen log back and forth a few times. Thrilling adventures.
Several hours have passed by the time they head back to the stables and Alfred, though it doesn't feel like it.
Sometimes, selfish is a good thing. Sometimes, selfish makes sure that you keep the things you really need in your life. Clark would say this was the farthest thing from selfish, but Clark also knew Bruce wouldn't believe him.
But he's pleased that it sounds like he'll be making up a tomato soup cake sometime soon. He'd have to ask his mother for the recipe the next time he was home. She'd be thrilled to know that he'd finally properly met Dick.
Once they make it back to the stables, Clark tilts his head towards the house.
"I should probably head back once we get in. I wouldn't want to intrude on dinner." And it really isn't in any way an attempt to get invited. He wants Bruce to have some time with Dick before he has to go out.
He holds his hand out and Neoma regretfully separates from Caterin to flutter to his finger.
There are sandwiches waiting with Alfred, and at Clark's proclamation, he gets a few shoved at him, lowkey British fussing. Dick's already stuffing a peanut butter and jelly one in his face and ends up running over to say goodbye to Clark and Neoma, trying to communicate this without talking with his mouth full. Bruce's laughter is quiet and mostly unnoticed in the commotion, though he's also taking the time to make sure the horses are put away properly. Dick offers Neoma a piece of his sandwich, his own daemon (now a Capuchin monkey - too tuckered out to keep flying) coiled around his shoulders.
"He's not going to vanish into thin air, Master Dick," Alfred says, getting him to settle down. "We do have to walk back first."
Dick is, of course, immediately exhausted after eating so fast after all that activity. He's just about too big for it but Bruce carries him back to the house anyway - he's more than strong enough. His son's arms wrapped around his neck, little head on his shoulder, daemon snoozing inside her human's shirt.
Dick gets a warm hug, Neoma takes the piece of sandwich and nibbles at the jelly, and Clark stays long enough to eat those sandwiches. After all, he didn't want to upset Alfred or waste food. The walk back to the house is slow and Clark makes it beside Bruce, a warm little smile on his lips as Dick snoozes.
"He's a wonderful child," Clark notes quietly as they make their way, "I'm glad I got to spend some time with the both of you. And I hope it goes without saying that I'd love to do it again sometime."
Bruce gives him a little smile; it's obvious how much this all means to him. In the hallway outside Dick's bedroom, he stops and gives Clark a pointed look. He wants a goodbye kiss, so don't you go anywhere. Once he's gently deposited Dick on his bed - his daemon wakes up, gives Bruce a fond, sleepy look before curling - Bruce slips back into the hall and shuts the door quietly behind him. Immediately he's reaching out to take Clark's face in his hands and press a kiss to his mouth, passionate and thankful.
Clark takes the kiss and responds, happy and warm and also thankful. He knows how much trust and how much courage it took for Bruce to introduce them, to take that step, and how much it really means for the two of them that he's spent time with Dick; somewhere, Bruce knows he's not going anywhere any time soon. It's such a small thing with so much meaning. And most of all, he kisses him because he's wanted to kiss him for hours, because Bruce's gentle smiles and the soft joyful looks had made his chest tight and now he finally gets to let Bruce feel that.
Once the kiss is done, he leans in to press his forehead to Bruce's, unable to stop smiling.
"Yeah," Bruce breathes against him, and then kisses him again. And again. Like he's trying to stop himself but can't quite--
"Eh-hem." Alfred 'zero chill disguised as Arctic freeze' Pennyworth is behind them, eyebrows raised, expression unfazed. "Master Bruce, I do believe you're soon to be overdue for your usual preparations, and that Mister Kent has a deadline he's been putting off."
Bruce sighs through that. "Yes, thank you, Alfred." He gives Clark another kiss just to prove a goddamn point, but relents as his mentor walks away.
Clark lingers in the last of the kisses before drawing back.
"Have a good night, Bruce" is all he says, a faintly goofy smile on his lips. He'd been kissed a few times, enough times that he'd probably be smiling during his own patrol and through the evening until he'd finished his assignment. Maybe even as he fell asleep.
He kicks his boots together lightly, careful not to scuff them.
"I'll leave these in the laundry room so you don't get mud in your room."
Bruce nods. Alright. He wants to keep kissing him and it's obvious in his expression, but all he does is skim his palm along Clark's arm to take his hand. He'll walk him out to the foyer, sneak in another kiss, and then head down to the cave.
Because once he's working, he's working. Even if he sees Clark, it's all business.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
Anyway--
"Flown one myself? No," Dick answers. "I've been on Bruce's. We went to Disney World." That admission seems a little shy, for whatever reason.
"He got to keep a picture of me in mouse ears," Bruce deadpans, and Dick turns to grin at him, good mood restored at the memory. They're coming to a break in the trail, more open expanses, and the two Gothamites have a sideline to discuss whether or not Dick's allowed to ride any faster through it. Bruce puts him through his form paces a bit first, then okays it.
Bruce stays where he is, indicating Clark should, as well. Letting Dick make the shaky transition through the horse's gate to a canter, not quite experienced enough for a gallop. He's on an older mare who knows her stuff, and the brightly colored bird soars above his head.
"He needs white noise," Bruce says quietly. Talking, laughing, playing, always moving, to keep him from thinking of his parents laying crumpled on the ground before him. "But it's exhausting. I think this helps him breathe a little."
"It does." Bruce glances down at Caterin, almost startled by her unbelievably rare verbal input in front of anyone. She's a sugar glider again, sitting against Bruce on the saddle. She'd know, though, Bruce thinks. She stalks to Dick and his daemon.
no subject
"I'm asking him if I can see the ears picture," he 'warns'.
no subject
World's Greatest Detective, and he can't figure out his kid just wants to spend time with him more than anything else.
no subject
"That kid'd like it if you brought him to Sears, Bruce," he says with a tip of his chin towards Dick across the way. The smile widened a little.
"He happens to share my excellent taste and as such, enjoys spending time with you. Period. End of sentence."
no subject
"Well, I guess I didn't like Disney World either, when I was a kid." So there's that. Bruce who hates fun, Dick who feels embarrassed at the money being spent on him. What a pair.
"What'd you do for special events?"
no subject
But it'd been good. Simple, but good.
"Usually it's carrot cake, since Pa's daemon is a rabbit. Always the joke. And Ma's is a goose so he enjoys the cake just fine as well. After Nee settled, she'd always get a little bowl of grapes or blueberries for the occasion."
no subject
But he loves it. Loves knowing it still exists for other people, if not him.
"Sometimes I wonder if I should send Dick somewhere like that," he says with a sigh. "But I understand him... I don't know if it evens it out or not." Would a 'normal' parenting couple be able to comfort him and have it mean anything? Maybe not.
no subject
"Then how about if I'm still in his good graces by the next time his birthday rolls around," because he won't intrude, he refuses to intrude, "I'll make a cake, tomato soup and cream cheese icing if you want to be authentic, and we'll all settle in for some movies."
He's trying to do more than plan a party, but this is the only part he feels safe enough to broach, the only way.
You can have that too, he doesn't say. You can build that family for yourself.
And I'll help you.
no subject
"I think he'd like that a lot," Bruce says quietly. His tone of voice says I'd like that too.
Dick returns in short order, bouncing in his saddle as his horse slows from her canter. Bruce laughs softly and shows him how to keep his heels down and his weight centered for an easier seat; Dick is so eager to learn from him. (It'll change. He'll be a teenager and he'll hate everything, but now, he's so desperate for his foster father's attention.) Another bit of trail wandering after that and Dick asks Bruce to show him jumps on another field, but they're a bit dilapidated and potentially not safe for the horses. He compromises by promising to get it fixed up, and letting Dick walk his horse over a fallen log back and forth a few times. Thrilling adventures.
Several hours have passed by the time they head back to the stables and Alfred, though it doesn't feel like it.
no subject
But he's pleased that it sounds like he'll be making up a tomato soup cake sometime soon. He'd have to ask his mother for the recipe the next time he was home. She'd be thrilled to know that he'd finally properly met Dick.
Once they make it back to the stables, Clark tilts his head towards the house.
"I should probably head back once we get in. I wouldn't want to intrude on dinner." And it really isn't in any way an attempt to get invited. He wants Bruce to have some time with Dick before he has to go out.
He holds his hand out and Neoma regretfully separates from Caterin to flutter to his finger.
no subject
"He's not going to vanish into thin air, Master Dick," Alfred says, getting him to settle down. "We do have to walk back first."
Dick is, of course, immediately exhausted after eating so fast after all that activity. He's just about too big for it but Bruce carries him back to the house anyway - he's more than strong enough. His son's arms wrapped around his neck, little head on his shoulder, daemon snoozing inside her human's shirt.
no subject
"He's a wonderful child," Clark notes quietly as they make their way, "I'm glad I got to spend some time with the both of you. And I hope it goes without saying that I'd love to do it again sometime."
no subject
no subject
Once the kiss is done, he leans in to press his forehead to Bruce's, unable to stop smiling.
"I'll see you at Work?" he murmurs.
no subject
"Eh-hem." Alfred 'zero chill disguised as Arctic freeze' Pennyworth is behind them, eyebrows raised, expression unfazed. "Master Bruce, I do believe you're soon to be overdue for your usual preparations, and that Mister Kent has a deadline he's been putting off."
Bruce sighs through that. "Yes, thank you, Alfred." He gives Clark another kiss just to prove a goddamn point, but relents as his mentor walks away.
Time to go back to reality.
no subject
"Have a good night, Bruce" is all he says, a faintly goofy smile on his lips. He'd been kissed a few times, enough times that he'd probably be smiling during his own patrol and through the evening until he'd finished his assignment. Maybe even as he fell asleep.
He kicks his boots together lightly, careful not to scuff them.
"I'll leave these in the laundry room so you don't get mud in your room."
no subject
Because once he's working, he's working. Even if he sees Clark, it's all business.