Our man is back in play

Its the dance they do.

He pretends to warn her off.

She pretends to listen.

and he’s never gotten his wires crossed before. at work, he never really has the instinct to do it—there’s nothing physical about the effort he puts in at the planet like there was playing sports.

but superheroing is physical. most of the time, superman doesn’t work in a team, except...sometimes he does.

it happens on the heels of a surprisingly uplifting battle. the league isn't exactly new, per se, but they've struggled to find their footing with each other. but this time was good. minimal damage, zero casualties—they accomplished exactly what the league was made for.

it makes clark proud. proud of the team, proud of himself, proud of the work they'd done together. and batman was incredible. he'd strategized on the spot and sent everybody to perfect locations, while holding his own against the robots that were plaguing the city. between his own skirmishes, clark couldn't help glancing over to watch the powerful breadth of him get to work.

so when he lands on the rooftop where the others are gathered, it's pure instinct to lean closer to batman and clap him on the shoulder, and then his ass and say, "great work!" because that's what he does, what he's always done, when a teammate does well.

it takes a moment for his actions to catch up to him, but by the time they do, everyone else has frozen, staring at him like he's grown another head. clark himself goes entirely immobile, a hot flush of shame crawling up his face.

what can he even say? it was a pure lapse of judgement; he forgot who he was—forgot where he was, who he was with—

"kal," batman says, stretching his name out.

“i’m so sorry!" clark blurts, voice pitching upward, "that was pure instinct—!”

“you slap ass on instinct?” green lantern interjects, doubling over with laughter.

clark opens his mouth to defend himself, but he pauses before any words come out. superman didn't grow up playing human sports, couldn't have learned a human gesture like that. gosh, he's so screwed.

"perhaps we should circle back to personal boundaries in the next meeting," diana says, raising a brow at clark. behind her, the flash has two hands over his mouth, but clark can still hear the laughter in his throat.

clark is absolutely, utterly mortified. he whirls back to b, guilt twisting the line of his mouth. "i am so, so sorry," he says again. "i should not have done that—i don't know why i did that—but please believe me when i say it will never happen again."

the apology is somewhat undercut by GL still laughing at him.

but batman just sighs, his shoulders dropping. "it's fine, kal. you clearly weren't thinking."

in the background, GL and flash start protesting, insisting that clark face a proper punishment (re: verbal dressing down), but clark is happy to tune them out over the swell of relief.

batman said it was fine. batman isn't mad at him. clark knows what the shape of b's ass feels like under his palm. he's doomed.

clark apologizes again for good measure before he sets off to leave, shaking those thoughts out of his head. flash is still laughing at him, and GL is still complaining about a harsher reaction, but diana smiles and waves goodbye, so clark takes it as permission.

except, the moment he turns his back, he feels a quick swat directly on his ass.

"don't let it happen again, boy scout," batman growls, officially even.

Superman/Batman (2003) #48

Dick, about 9 or 10, had woken up in the middle of the night and went to the kitchen to get something to eat knowing nobody would be there to tell him off for eating sugar that late. On his way there, he hears movement in room nearby and goes to check it out. He sees Clark setting up the big couch, sniffing, and with bloodshot, teary eyes. When he asks if he's okay, Clark can't lie and tells him he and bruce had a small disagreement but they'd be okay in the morning. Dick feels bad for Clark so he decides to sleep with him so he doesn't feel alone. He brings his favorite blanket and cuddles up to him the entire night.

When Bruce wakes up, he goes looking for Clark, ready to apologize, but what he finds is Dick in his pjs seating next to a still-sleeping Clark with his arms crossed and giving him the angriest pout. Dick is so mad at Bruce for hurting Clark and leaving him crying. He won't accept Bruce's explanations. He's so upset he starts bawling, thinking his dad and Clark are going to break up. The commotion finally wakes Clark up. Clark has to comfort Dick and assure him they're going to be okay and still together. Dick only forgives Bruce after Clark asks him to.

Clark has to sleep at the manor for about a month after that fight. Sometimes Dick joins them to make sure they're actually okay.

I love how in your last drabble Bruce was just being a little pos to tease Clark, but what would happen if he wasn't teasing Clark.

Not sure on which occasion it would be that Bruce would just try to endure the harassment from an alien dignitary but he does. Maybe it's a very big peace treaty moment or whatever. Bruce has been enduring so many people looking at him like he's a piece of meat and touching him inappropriately and it's getting beyond anything Bruce had to suffer in his own galas. And the change of his heartbeat alerts Clark, who's immediately like fuck this treaty, how dare they do shit like this to Bruce. And he's throwing hands. Bruce is angry but he cannot be angry enough because he knows how Clark is and he knew from the start that if Clark found out by the harassment he would flip.

But long story short,they didn't end up in trouble because the other party was also not aware of their people being so disgusting to Bruce, so the treaty ends well and fine.

The Justice League's delegation is sent back to Earth with gifts as an apology and promises to reschedule. The others give them the all clear, and Bruce draws Clark into the Javelin's small shower cabin.

"You didn't need to do that," he gripes, lifting a wet cloth to Clark's cheek, wiping away the blood dired onto his skin.

Clark grabs his wrist, and his eyes glow red. "Yes. I did."

Bruce gives him a tired look and takes his hand back, moving to a new stripe of blood. "Now we have to renegotiate that treaty. Without it the Thenens will starve."

"We can send a temporary order," Clark growls. "I'm not letting you get molested for the sake of politics."

Bruce scoffs, and mutters about alien biology under his breath as he scrubs at blood that seeped through Clark's suit. "I'm used to it, Clark, I thought you—"

"I have accepted the persona you put out to the public, because when it comes to that you are ultimately in control. I was not going to stand by and watch you be groped and forced upon when I could do something about it. You had no power there, Bruce, that's the difference." He grabs Bruce's chin. "Now stop trying to pick a fight, I heard your vitals level as soon as I pulled that scum off you."

Bruce sighs, then ignores the fact Clark is standing under the stream of water, and leans his head on his chest. "Thank you."

Clark makes a low, approving noise, and draws Bruce into a hug. "You never have to go through that again," he assures. "I know you can take care of yourself, but next time... call for me. Please, Bruce."

"I will," he promises, leaning into Clark and just dealing with his clothes slowly soaking through. Clark's hug makes it worth it. "Thanks," comes after, a quiet mumble into his chest, and Clark shakes his head.

"No thanks, darling, that's what I'm here for."

"Scaring off predators?"

"Whatever you need. It's all part of loving someone."

Batman/Superman: World's Finest #47 - "Truth & Consequences" (2026)