Chapter Text
Bruce hadn’t wanted to go out. He wasn’t a fan of Metropolis, and he wasn’t a fan of Metropolis nightlife. It was all too clean. Every club here felt like an extension of one of Wayne Enterprises’ members’ clubs. He missed the grit of Gotham. He missed the fight of Gotham. He missed the Iceberg. But once Wayne Manor was bombed, Alfred had issued an ultimatum. Either stop the vigilante work, or move away for university. Bruce had tried to argue the bombing showed that there was more need for the Batman, not less, but Alfred wouldn’t listen. He said Gotham was too dangerous for someone as angry as Bruce. Alfred had moved into Wayne Tower in the city with Dick. Bruce wished he could’ve just done that. He knew Alfred worried about him when he was away… but Selina had told him it would be good for him to have some freedom and be independent for a while. Bruce could see her reasoning, but that didn’t change that he missed Gotham. Missed Alfred. Missed Dick. Not to mention that moving to Metropolis took him further away from finding the man that killed his parents.
So, Bruce hadn’t wanted to move to Metropolis, and he had not wanted to go clubbing. But when Selina asked him to do something, he found it very difficult to say no.
They walked through Metropolis, a line of relatively drunk twenty-somethings who were warm and pink despite the cold of the night. But Bruce was only interested in one of them.
He had seen Clark Kent in passing a few times; they had a lot of the same friends. But once he’d spoken to him… Bruce knew he was hiding something. He had this desperate urge to find out what it was. Solve the puzzle, decrypt the code, uncover all the secrets this tall, wiry farmhand from Kansas was hiding. “What rumours?” Clark had looked scared about what Bruce would say next. What was he so worried people would find out?
Selina’s arm slinked around his waist, the points of her long black acrylics digging into his skin softly.
“Stop analysing him, babe.”
“I wasn’t,” Bruce mumbled. Humiliatingly, he felt his cheeks flush. He dragged his eyes away from the back of Clark’s head and the way Clark’s shirt strained against his lithe shoulders. Clark wasn’t huge, but Bruce could see his strength in the tone of his body and the way he carried himself. Bruce wondered what he would feel like.
Selina made a self-righteous noise and pulled Bruce closer into her. Bruce put his arm around her shoulder and she settled into his side. They just fit together. Bruce was so grateful for the night they’d met, however unconventional it was.
“He’s hot,” she whispered.
“He’s average,” Bruce responded, deadpan.
Selina laughed, as if to say, who are you kidding?
When they got inside the club, time began to blur. Selina danced very inappropriately with Bruce for quite a while. He didn’t mind. He hated being around so many people at once, so focusing on Selina worked for him. That was, until Selina spotted a girl she liked the look of and waved goodbye.
Bruce stood awkwardly in the middle of the club in his black hoodie and eyeliner. Everyone around him was wearing bright colours, fancy clothes, sparkles. It was a rich kids’ club. It was every gala he’d ever been to in Gotham, just with a younger average age. He hated it.
He went over to the bar and ordered something strong. He resigned himself to sit there until everyone left, or until Selina found him again.
He didn’t have to wait as long as he thought. After just ten minutes, Bruce spun around to the sound of “Hey man, the lady said no!” and a square punch in the face. He almost smiled. It felt like home.
Bruce was deeply shocked when he saw that the man who had been punched in the face was none other than Clark Kent, who had been knocked over and caught by Lois Lane.
Bruce was vaguely aware of Lex Luthor breaking up the conflict, not-so-subtly making it clear to the offender that his father owned 70% of the club they were standing in. The guy seemed to be squaring up to Lex until Diana came to see what the fuss was about. He took one look at the size of her arms and stumbled out of the club, grumbling. But this was all background noise to Bruce.
Clark was clutching his nose, which was bleeding. His cheeks were flushed with alcohol and his blue eyes were a little glassy. Bruce noticed for the first time the green splotches on Clark’s hand and arm. It looked almost like a burn. Bruce had been too drunk to notice it earlier. What could that be from…?
Lois was trying to help Clark to his feet, but he seemed to be dead weight. Lex put an arm under Clark’s armpit and dragged him up.
“You can’t keep doing this, man,” Lex complained. That surprised Bruce, too. Clark didn’t seem like the type to get into fights.
Lex led Clark out of the club, Lois in tow.
“You’re going to be obsessed with him now, aren’t you?”
Bruce hadn’t even heard Selina come up behind him until she spoke. He turned to find her looking very exasperated.
“No.”
Bruce didn’t think about Clark when he walked Selina home. Bruce didn’t think about Clark when he walked back to the rich end of town and went up to his penthouse above the Metropolis branch of Wayne Industries. And he definitely didn’t think about Clark when he laid awake at 4am, curtains wide open to the city skyline. He didn’t have time for distractions like Clark’s smile, Clark’s secrets, and Clark getting punched in the face. He needed to find the man who killed his parents. He needed to go back to Gotham and see Alfred and Dick. He needed to keep being the Batman. He did not need Clark Kent in his life.
Unfortunately for Bruce, that wasn’t going to happen.