#causeimamerican

“Especially not after you convinced me that some humans can be ‘totally fine’ not sleeping for several days and making me feel like I wasn’t quite so weird for a split second before that all came crashing down.” Clark crossed his arms, pouting just a little bit. He didn’t seem actually that annoyed but…

Admittedly, he still felt a little bit bad about that.

“I know… I lied when I said some humans. I meant me, specifically, because I’m fine, I’m great, I’m good, I’m bursting with youthful vigor now both of you let me work. There’s crime afoot.” He declared, trying to pull his chair back forward, only to frown as he realized Diana still had an iron grip on it, so instead he stood up and walked back to the computer instead.

“Bruce, your being ridiculous… and you said "There’s crime afoot” out loud. You’re tired.“ Diana said exasperated with a hand on her head.

"Also, no offense sweet bean… but you look like you’ve been through hell, you have probably the most intense looking bags under your eyes I’ve ever seen.” Clark said, trying to be gentle but serious.

“I look fucking awesome.” Bruce protested in annoyance, not even sure what he was really doing on the computer outside of looking busy. “You’ve heard Harv, I’m a fucking pretty boy. And I feel fan-god-damn-tastic.”

Clark and Diana gave each other a look that said “Yep, he’s lost it.” That Bruce didn’t much appreciate.

He forgot what he was even doing, his new ultimate goal was to not go to sleep no matter what because he was f i n e dammit.

“Bruce, please come to bed. Besides, you know, we’ll be right there with you, we miss you.” Clark pleaded, giving Bruce very tempting puppy dog eyes.

“We can spend a little time tiring you out if you want Bat.” Diana said, soothingly rubbing his shoulder.

Tempting. But he was the god damn batman, so… “No, no bribing me doing the horizontal tango, I have a job to do.”

“The horizontal…” Diana began.

“T a n g o. Bruce, pl ea se , you need to sleep.” Clark finished.

“Why can’t I use creative words without you two thinking it means I’m tired, hmm? Clark’s called me a bean before, I am but a bean, let me live my bean life.” He momentarily felt a little dizzy and a little like he was loosing track of time and space, but regardless he made his way to the bat-mobile to go… somewhere…. who knows.

“Oh-ho-ho no, absolutely not, you are not driving like this.” Clark said immediately super-speeding in front of Bruce acting as a big warm teddy bear-like wall between Bruce and his car.

“I can do what I want. I’m rich, I’m bi, I’m batman, and I fight crime. Now ”scoot your boot.“ as they say where you come from.” Bruce said, trying to move around Clark who was so freaking fast for some reason.

“I have never said scoot your boot.” Clark said with raised eyebrows.

“Really?” Bruce asked somewhat deliriously. “Seems like a cowboy thing…” He  mumbled while moving the cowl up slightly so he could rub at his eye.

“…Would you come to bed if I dressed like a cowboy?”

Tempting. But not even saving a horse and riding a cowboy could get him to give up on his current stubborn crusade that he couldn’t even remember why he had to be on so bad… why had he been up in the first place??

“…No, so yeehaw your ass out of my  w a y .”

“No way, and your yee-haw-ing your a… s…… booty up to bed now,  you’re completely delirious.”

“Fine… maybe I don’t know what I’m doing, or where I’m going, or why right now, but I’m the world’s greatest detective, I’ll figure it out.” Bruce grumbled in annoyance.

He started walking back to his computer since he apparently couldn’t go to his car, but when he tried to sit back down he nearly yelped as it seemed Diana had thought ahead, so he had sat down right into her lap and now her very strong muscular arms were now wrapped around his waist.

“Gotcha.”

“Fu c k.” Bruce mumbled.

This was quite the predicament Batman had gotten himself into! Would he be able to figure out how to escape the strong arms of the Wonder Woman? Tune in next time, same bat-time, same bat-channel!

… Bruce squirmed for a moment grumbling before bowing his head.

“Fine… you’ve won, let’s go to bed…” Bruce conceded.

“That’s more like it” Diana said with a sigh as she gingerly let go.

That was when Bruce took his chance to escape with a triumphant and slightly evil laugh as he took off into the depths of the bat-cave.

“BruCE!” Diana chided.

Bruce just continued cackling, dropping a smoke bomb as he completely forgot that would do nothing against Clark’s super vision as he decided to head for the bat-plane. Good thing he had several bat-themed vehicles.

“Bruce get back here!” He heard Clark call sternly.

“You’re going to get yourself hurt!” Diana yelled.

“If you want me, come and get me!” Bruce taunted with an incredibly delirious smile, not realizing he was about to run into a wall.

He would have, if Clark had not been in front of him again in an instant, causing Bruce to collide with Clark’s chest rather than a rock hard wall. Clark scooped Bruce up into his arms despite the Bat’s protesting and flew him back over to where Diana had her arms crossed and was tapping her foot.

She softly flicked the tip of Bruce’s nose to get his attention and to stop flailing. “Now are you going to be a good bat and change out of the suit yourself, or are we going to have to rip you out of it kicking and screaming?”

Bruce frowned, before getting another idea and perking up slightly. “…There are other ways of getting me out of it~” He said putting on his flirtiest Brucie voice.

“Nice try B, but you blew your chance at the 'horizontal tango’ when you decided to bolt like that.” Clark said looking down at Bruce now with his own smirk on his face.

“Aw, nuts…” Bruce grumbled in surrender, going limp as Clark set him down, pulling off the cowl as he knew he was defeated.

“Your not getting any nuts B, keep up.” Clark said absolutely delighted.

Diana rolled her eyes. “You pick now to make a joke like that Kansas?”

Clark grinned. “Judging by how sleepy he is he won’t even remember that I made my first ever joke like that in front of him.”

“How devilish of you.” Diana commented with an amused smile.

Bruce grumbled as he stripped off the rest of the batsuit. “I wanted nuts though.” He mumbled. “nuts sound good. I like nuts… especially cashews.”

“Your right, he’s definitely not going to remember.” Diana commented, taking Bruce’s hand once he was down to the black undershirt and thin pants he wore under the suit.

Clark put his hand on Bruce’s back as the moved out of the cave. “Come on sleepy-head, off to an adventure called 'bed-time’.”

“But I wanted to fightttt…” Bruce slurred slightly.

“You can fight exaustion by sleeping.” Diana suggested.

“I’ll kick exaust-ian’s a s s.”

“That’s the spirit.” Clark laughed as he gingerly lifted the incredibly tired bat onto his bed before going to get ready for bed himself along with Diana.

“What are we going to do with that man?” Diana whispered, unable to help a small smile, after they had changed into their sleep clothes and came back to find Bruce completely zonked out , snoring slightly with his mouth hanging open.

“We’ll force him to have a normal sleep schedule yet.” Clark whispered, getting into bed and pulling Bruce close in order to spoon him.

Diana joined in on the other side, snuggling Bruce’s head against her chest and putting her arm around both him and Clark as she got settled.

“Our new mission?” Diana suggested.

“Our new mission, will kick ’'exaust-ian’s” butt.“ Clark whispered with a grin.

Diana had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

"You’ll make a joke about Bruce wanting 'nuts’ but you’ll never say the word "ass”, will you?“ She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Nope.”

“Can you guys please help me? I just want to make sure Brucehas a good Father’s Day. But you guys have known him so much longer than I have,and you probably know more about him than I do. I swear, I’ve been saving up myallowance for weeks now, so we can buy him nice things. But I don’t even knowif he likes funny cards or the cards that make people cry,” Dick sighed as helooked up to Wonder Woman and Superman on the Batcomputer’s screen. “Does helike the funny cards?”

“I think he would love the funny cards, Dick,” Diana smiled.“You’ve been saving up for this day?”

He nodded.

“If you want, pal, you could help me make some of my pa’sribs for him. He loves pa’s ribs recipe. What else did you have planned forhim?” Clark asked.

Dick nibbled on his lip as he spun in the much too largechair, his feet dangling in the air. “I thought we’d go down to the pond. Hereally likes going there with me, but I dunno why. Maybe he just really likesducks. Oh! That’s it!” Dick snapped his fingers as he remembered his last pieceof the puzzle. “I want to get a picture with you two and get it framed. He’salways complaining that his desk at work is too empty.”

Diana and Clark couldn’t grin any harder if they tried to.

With a quick call to Bruce to make sure it was okay toborrow his son for the afternoon, Clark was taking Dick to the grocery store to“get the fixin’s.” Once the fixin’s had been bought, they traveled back to themanor where Diana had prepped the grill and presented the framed photo of thethree of them to Dick.

Dick was nearly shaking with mirth as he showed Diana thecard he’d bought with his own money. It was hilarious, Diana admitted as shewiped her eyes. They gathered around the grill, watching as Clark taught themhis father’s rib recipe. Hours later, the ribs were slathered in the last ofthe sauce.

Clark knelt down and placed his hand on Dick’s small butstrong shoulder.

“Bruce is very lucky to have you,” he told him.

“Not as lucky as I am to have him, and you and Diana.”

 Bruce and Dick sat at the edge of the dock, their toesskimming the water. They were stuffed to the gills, and lazy under the heat ofthe sun. Bruce pulled his son against his side, brushing the boy’s black locksout of his face. He couldn’t stop marveling; he didn’t know how he got justthis damned lucky to have such a good kid in his life. Whatever he did to earnthis force for good, even at 10 years old, he knew he didn’t deserve it. Butthe framed photo of Clark, Diana, and Dick on his desk, his stomach full of JonathanKent’s world-famous ribs, and the note scribbled in the card from his son thatsimply read, “Thank you for being my dad.Love, Dick.” Were all declarations of love he’d never thought he’d everget.

He remembered coming home trying to hide the fact he was crying because he had been picked on all day, then picked on because he got upset at being picked on, and feeling guilty about making his ma and pa look at him so sad and worried. His dad sat down with him one day, and Clark had asked that question that had to be hard for any parent.

“Why don’t the other kids like me? Is there something I did wrong?” Clark had asked solemnly right around the age of 8 as he rolled a toy car back and forth on the steps to try and distract himself from feeling upset still.

His pa had sighed, put a hand on his back and said “At some point those kids learned to seek out and pick on anything even a little bit different from them. I’m not sure if kids are… ‘just like that’ or they get it from their parents… but you need to know Clark there’s nothing wrong with you. It’s not your fault they keep singling you out.”

“How do I make them stop?” Clark asked with a little sniffle.

His pa was silent for a long moment as he took a deep thoughtful breath. “I don’t think you can make them stop. You can’t control how people treat you, as unfair as it is. But what’s important is you see its just that, unfair. Those kids have something else going on, that has nothing to do with you, so they just want to make you feel miserable and get a reaction out of you. So you know what the ultimate revenge against those kids trying to make you miserable is?”

Clark looked up at his dad curiously. “Throw eggs at them?”

Jonathan chuckled and shook his head. “No. How you get back at them is you don’t stop being kind. You’re a good kid Clark, don’t lose that, no matter how much words hurt, you don’t take them to heart because they aren’t true… and even if it’s still hard and stings now the best thing you can do is not let them take that kindness away from you. Because you know what happens if you let them take that away?”

Clark shook his head.

“You’ll end up just like them, and maybe you’ll end up hurting another kid just the same way they did you.” He said seriously.

“Oh…” Clark said thoughtfully, now rolling his car on his hand. “I don’t want to be mean like they are. If there’s another kid like me I want to be their friend, not hurt them.”

“That’s the spirit.” Jonathan said, hugging his son just as Martha came out to call them both to dinner.

—-

Years later, with all the fighting, all the enemies gained, Clark never ever forgot that. No matter how many times Lex Luthor pushed his buttons, or how damn hard it was sometimes to try so hard to save everyone and still be treated like a walking bomb that could go off and kill everyone at any second… he still held that message close to home.

It didn’t mean things didn’t hurt. It didn’t mean that sometimes harsh words and people trying to kill him didn’t… you know… sting to put it lightly. It had fought so hard to stay kind, stay open, be patient… he wasn’t going to stop after all that work he had already put in.

When he had first met Batman… well… having kryptonite brandished in his face even just as an explanation as to the fact the Joker was in metropolis with a ton of the stuff wasn’t exactly giving Clark a very good first impression. He thought Batman, that Bruce was going to be just plain mean. He was distrustful, antagonistic, and sure didn’t seem to be going around looking to make friends. So, Clark had closed off to him at first.

But then… well… he met Tim, the newest Robin at the time when Bruce had been kidnapped and mind controlled by Braniac, and suddenly… with Bruce raising a kid like that, Bruce being entirely an asshole plain and simple just didn’t make sense anymore.

Then they started the league and began working together. Clark liked… no loved the idea of working on a team, not just because of the potential for saving lives, but because he thought it’d be… nice to feel not so alone around a bunch of others who felt pretty odd and alone themselves. Even with Batman declaring himself 'not a full member’ at the start, he was clearly engaged. What at first had annoyed him was now… kind of funny, and a little charming. When Batman said “I work alone” he really meant something more like “I’m worried about my ability to work with a team, but at the same time I can’t help but want to support this”. When Batman would say “Would you all stop goofing off?” he deep down meant “if you keep this up, I’m going to start laughing and break character”.

He also grew close to Diana, who seemed to have the level-est and most patient mind out of all of them. Clark figured you would have to having lived so long and having lived through so much. It didn’t mean she couldn’t get annoyed or loose her temper a little bit if someone was doing something morally objectionable, lying out their ass to the literal goddess of truth, or treating a serious matter like it was nothing, but it did mean she was better than him or Bruce at being able to be fair and look at an issue from many sides or be able to see a deeper side to those others might have already dismissed or written off. It was…. well he admired it quite a lot, and he could tell by the way Bruce would sometimes smile or look at her… he admired her a lot too.

He had, been able to see himself getting close to Diana when he met her… but Bruce…

Bruce was constantly full of surprises. Even after knowing him for several years, it always felt like he was always discovering something new about him, or noticing something else. He’d always thought kindness and goodness was something worn on your sleeve but Bruce… Bruce probably had the kindest heart he had ever known, But he kept it locked away, encased in shadow, afraid of letting anyone see it, so he kept it guarded and close to him. Clark hadn’t seen it, at first, but once he did, it felt like seeing a bright shining star on a pitch-black night. Rare, precious, and beautiful.

Maybe that was overly poetic and sappy of him to think, but he didn’t care, it was what he thought.

Outside of just things that were part of Bruce himself that caught Clark off guard… he also didn’t expect that those piercing ice blue eyes would suddenly start to… do something to him. They were undoubtedly striking. While Diana’s eyes were fiery and intense and made him feel just as hot as being on fire, Bruce’s eyes seemed to stare deep into him, freeze his breathe and cause it to catch in his lungs, heart speeding up to compensate for not being able to breathe. Clark had nearly died of shock when he realized the first time those eyes had made him swoon.

He found himself looking and Bruce and Diana with not just admiration but… something else. Something he wasn’t yet sure how to speak. His mouth felt like sandpaper whenever he tried to say it, even when he and Bruce locked eyes and realized they had been feeling the same way, it took Diana… talented as ever at bringing the words that needed to be said out of people, for those words to finally be spoken between the three of them. He loved her for it, he loved the quiet way Bruce had confessed, when he had realized that Bruce’s hands would sometimes start trembling when he tried to be more open with how he felt since he was forcing himself to say things that were hard for him, things that scared him despite needing to say them. So he and Diana took his trembling hands in there’s and their trinity was fully formed without another word having to be said.

After that, even with battles, and angst, and drama that just seemed to follow them everywhere… there came the things that were just… domestic. It was fun, really, since Bruce especially hadn’t let himself do domestic or particularly romantic things for a while… he’d sometimes stumble around their relationship in some of the sweetest and most endearing ways. He loved when he and Diana would exchange looks because their bat did something adorable (even if said bat would never admit he was cute because he’s batman he’s supposed to be scary apparently). While Bruce’s “Brucie” persona was notoriously flirtatious, it seemed all the suaveness went out the window when he really had people he deeply cared about to flirt with.

At this point, Clark was utterly unsure of how he could ever not adored this man, and was so grateful to have him and Diana in his life, and that he had held true to his father’s advice from so long ago so he could be open to really seeing both of them.

—-

“For fucks sake Clark I can make popcorn, I’m not completely hopeless, you just put the bag in the microwave…” Bruce began carrying a bag of not-microwave-popcorn over to the microwave.

“Boo, that’s not the kind of popcorn you microwave though… you have to do it in a pot with vegetable oil.” Clark said following Bruce in circles around the kitchen as Bruce tried to stay a few steps away from him.

“It’s in a bag isn’t it?” Bruce protested, frowning. “I can handle popcorn.”

“Please let me just show you how to do it at least don’t put it in the microwave you will set it on fire.” Clark pleaded ignoring Diana trying not to start laughing at their antics as she sat at the counter.

Bruce grumbled and half hardheartedly threw the bag of popcorn on the counter. “fine. Show me your ways 'oh popcorn master’ ” Bruce said with an over-exaggerated bow.

Clark bowed right back “Right away your majesty, if you’ll please allow me escort you to the stove o’ prince of ye olde Gothhhh-ham”

Diana cracked up at Clark’s teasing putting one hand on her head as she watched Bruce turn red and cross his arms. “Alright, Alright, stop stroking my ego before I get a big head about it.” Bruce said with an eye-roll only barely holding back a little amused smile.

Clark laughed. “Fine if I have to.”

Diana stood as Clark put the pot on the stove, bringing the lazily tossed popcorn bag over as she joined Clark’s side with a smile, putting a hand on his back and letting it linger.

“Alright, come here you.” Clark beckoned Bruce who was still standing with his arms crossed on the other side of the counter.

Bruce let his arms drop to his sides and wandered over to stand by his boyfriend and girlfriend and pay attention to the popcorn lesson.

“Alright, you just put about this much oil…” Clark explained as he poured it into the pot. “Then about this much of the popcorn kernels… then we cover it, put on the medium heat and… we wait…”

Bruce looked at the covered bot then at Clark. “That’s it??”

“That’s it!” Clark chirped.

“…I could have done that.” Bruce grumbled.

Diana planted a kiss on Bruce’s cheek, leaving a light lipstick stain. “But it’s more fun together… don’t you think?”

“…Maybe.” Bruce mumbled in response, now fully starting to smile, which now had Clark giddy because god now he can see those cute little dimples Bruce has when he smiles

Clark laughed and cupped the back of Bruce’s head, pulling it forward a little so he could press a kiss to the top of his forehead and run his hand through his hair. “That’s 'yes, it I am having fun with you two’ in Bat-speak.”

“Bat-speak” Bruce mumbled, his ears turning a little red only to jump when the first “pop” came from the popcorn pop.

“This better be good popcorn for taking longer to make.” Bruce said, narrowing his eyes at the pot like he wanted to fight it.

“It takes longer but we’ll have a bigger batch quicker to last the three of us and the jumping beans through movie night. Especially since we’re watching pixar movies tonight, I’m going to be bawling my eyes out and eating my feelings.” Clark joked.

Bruce quirked an eyebrow at him “jumping beans???”

“Yeah… you know, the kiddos, since their beans and they do a lot of jumping when crime fighting.” Clark said very matter-of-fact-ly.

“kiddos… jumping beans…” Bruce ran his hand through his hair. “Don’t let Damian hear you calling him that or he’ll be obsessing over how he’s "clearly not a bean” for the next thirty minutes.“

Diana chuckled. "I suppose like father like son…”

Bruce looked over at her. “What is that supposed to mean? How so??”

Clark chuckled. “Babe you spent thirty minutes arguing with us last week on how…” Clark cleared his throat and put two fingers behind his head to mimic the bat-cowl and purposefully did a poor impression of Batman’s voice despite the fact he could mimic it perfectly if he wanted to. “I’m not cute where why would you even think that? What possibly could have made you think that I’m Batman.”

Diana laughed, throwing her head back at Clark’s impression of their bat that was turning redder by the second.

“Point taken.”

Once the popcorn was done, they poured it into one bowl for the three of them, and three for the bat-kids to sort out amongst themselves and went to the living room… or rather the watch-room because of course the manor had it’s own theater that Bruce had installed just for the kids that now came in handy for movie nights.

“About time, we thought we were going to have to start without you guys.” Dick quipped, getting up from his sprawled out position across the couch.

“You can’t rush art.” Clark told him, handing him one of the bowls, smiling over at Bruce who was handing Damian one of the bowls and Tim the other so they wouldn’t argue with each other over it. Tim set his down to share with Stephanie and Cass while it seemed Damian had quietly decided that that bowl was his and his alone as Bruce suspected might end up being the case.

Dick took a bite of the popcorn and nodded. “Your right, popcorn is a very delicate and fine art that isn’t to be trifled with.” He set the bowl on top of Jason’s head to further tease him no doubt for sitting on the floor.

“If you don’t move that bowl in the next five seconds I’m going to send it flying.” Jason said, which only made Dick crack up as he gingerly moved the bowl to sit beside Jason’s head on the couch instead.

Jason rolled his eyes and shook his head as he reached backwards to grab and handful of the popcorn.

Diana pulled Bruce’s current favorite red weighted blanket over the three of them as Clark and Bruce got settled in, Bruce sandwiched between him and Diana very comfortably with their own bowl now in his lap as they started the movie.

As it began Clark heard Bruce let out a quiet sigh and whisper. “This is nice… I like this…”

“Yeah… me too…” Clark whispered back, draping his arm behind Bruce’s shoulders, Diana doing the same as they sat together, surrounded by family, just having fun with each other.

Clark relaxed into the moment, fixing it in his memory as one of the many times he now felt completely and utterly safe and accepted… like he really belonged.

But being around Bruce, knowing he was Batman, discovering a whole other side to his best friend that both made sense and made him feel like he didn’t really know Bruce as well as he thought at the same time.

There were some things that were real.

Bruce still had a sweet tooth, would still get excited in his own way over Gotham’s history (and history in general). He didn’t like to drink… Harvey had always known that and found it hilarious when Bruce would pretend to be drunk at a gala and ham it up, he had always felt special for being the only one who knew Brucie Wayne didn’t down a champagne bottle before every event.

Bruce would still go quiet sometimes. He remembered, back when they were kids, in kindergarten even - where Harvey would do most of the talking, deciding he liked Bruce quite a lot, and Bruce would always hang around and listen.

But even if Bruce didn’t always say a lot, he had always been there. He’d been there when he was sick, beaten up, happy, sad, up, down, everywhere and everything in between

That being said… well…

Now neither Harvey or Harv knew what to say at least half the time, or they couldn’t come to a conclusion on what to say or how to say or how to begin to say it. That was something around the topic of Bruce they could agree on. They didn’t know how to begin to talk to him anymore. So when they had previously been the one talking the most…

It was awkward.

Not to mention, partially because of his scarring and partially because he had been… you know… a criminal - even attempting to blend in with people and live a completely, “normal” life again was going to be impossible. That time spent in law school was looking more and more pointless by the day.

Sure, he had been told plastic surgery was an option, but being under the knife was too much for *both* of them to handle. The loss of control? What if they woke up in the middle of it? What if it just botched everything up even more?

At most he considered maybe he’d get just barely enough done so that he could close his eye again, maybe not have to worry about half of his mouth and teeth exposed to the elements all the time, make it a little easier to talk… to be able to even try to fully smile again.

But they weren’t there yet, the idea of trusting anyone to knock him out and fuck with his face was just too much. Not to mention he hated when the option was brought up as some sort of a magical solution that would just make everything better. There was an underlying attitude of “if you just looked better, people will just forget what you’ve done, any mental illness? Poof! Gone!”. Harvey hated it, and Harv resented all the times he had been treated like a disease that had to be wiped away because he happened to have all the anger, the sadness, pain, all dumped on him so Harvey could go on pretending he was perfect, that everything was fine. That was why he lost it and lashed out in the first place. All the repressed rage flowing out in the most explosive and destructive way possible.

Except now they realized they had both been in pain, and split from dealing with it in vastly different ways.

So both of them fronted more often. Occasionally getting along and occasionally trying to shove each other aside.

… They still had no idea how to reconnect with their former best friend, who clearly, had not dealt with his own pain as well as they thought.

“Harv, I have your eye-drops.” Bruce’s voice came from behind them, and they slowly turned to look at him. “I don’t think you’ve used them in a while.”

“Oh… right, almost forgot.” Harv grumbled.

“Thank you, Bruce.” Harvey replied as he took the bottle from Bruce’s hand, going a bit out of his way not to accidentally graze Bruce’s hand.

“I was getting to thanking him…”

“Then thank him too! What do you want from me??”

They bickered before Harv finally cleared his throat. “Thanks.”

Bruce cocked his head to the side, it reminded Harvey of the old stray cat he used to feed when he was just a boy.

“Your welcome, Harvey… Harv… I appreciate you trying to be polite. I’m sure Alfred would be proud.”

Harv snorted as he tilted their head back to moisturize their exposed eye. It was a pain in the ass even after having to do it and having doctors do it to him constantly.

“I’m trying to be good… whatever that means.”

Bruce put a reassuring hand on their shoulder. “You are doing good. And for what its worth I’ve gotten called out a fair number of times for not saying please and thank you.”

“Sure, but you're a rich pretty boy and Batman, two people I’d probably least expect to say please and thank you.” Harv teased.

“Your kind of one of a kind when it comes to billionaires actually trying to be polite… or have a soul.” Harvey added on.

“Well, I’m trying to be good.” Bruce replied with a wink.

He started to walk away and leave Harv and Harvey to keep disagreeing on what to watch while they curled up on the couch, but stopped mid-stride. He paused and bounced on his heels for a second as if contemplating whether or not he should speak his mind.

“Harv?”

“Yeah, Pretty Boy?” He replied only half paying attention, and half refocused on the screen in front of him.

“That’s just it, why do you still call me that?” Bruce asked with furrowed brows.

“What do you mean still… ?” Harv paused, mind buzzing with a slight panic. “Does… Does it bother you?”

“No… Not really. I just… we’re not enemies anymore, right?” Bruce said, unconsciously cracking his knuckles as he stood with his legs locked together stiffly.

“Yeah? Duh, of course not. What kind of question is that? What does it have to do with me calling you a pretty boy? That’s what you are.”

Bruce’s eyes suddenly widened as he got an uncharacteristically dumbfounded look on his face.

“You mean… it's not an insult? Or a taunt?” Bruce asked quietly.

“You…”

“Bruce, you're a dumbass.” Harvey interjected.

“You thought… I was insulting you?”

Bruce shuffled his feet and picked at his nails. “Why else would you…?”

Harv(ey) put their head in their hands for a moment and made a frustrated wheezing noise somewhere between a sigh and a quiet scream.

They got up off the couch and walked over to meet Bruce in the middle of the room.

“I know I can’t really wink, or… smile at you but…” Harv looked down at his scared hand, chest aching. “How did you not realize I was flirting with you?!”

Bruce looked positively taken aback. “You were flirting with me? All that time?? Every time we’d happen to meet, when I was me and not Batman...and you’d call me that? You were... trying to..?”

Harv hung his head in defeat. “Of course I was you dense bat-hole.”

“I see…” Bruce replied with an awkward gulp as he gripped at his own arm. For being such a well-built man that was good at making even those taller than him feel miles below him, he was also good at making himself look a lot smaller than he really was as he clenched all his limbs together tightly.

Harv took a deep breath, and with one trembling hand reached out towards Bruce’s cheek to… what? Comfort him? He wasn’t really sure, but he hesitated… looking at his hand and then Bruce staring back at him.

He didn’t really want to touch Bruce with what he thought was a disgusting hand that no one would want near them.So he retracted his hand.

“I just thought… you were rubbing in the fact that me and Harvey had… you know, broken up.” Bruce admitted quietly.

Harv looked taken aback for a second, and tried to ignore the heaviness and old mourning from Harvey, before pressing forward with newfound confidence… or maybe it was just cockiness.

“Unlike Harvey, I’m not stupid enough to give up on the best thing in my life.”

He swelled with pride when Bruce looked away with a sharp inhale through his nose that was turning a bit pink along with his cheeks.

“Excuse you.” Harvey thought.

Bruce almost chuckled at the immediate glare at nowhere in particular he knew was coming from Harvey resenting that comment.

“It was a different time, you know that Harv. We both chickened out on being in a relationship at the time.”

“Still… if it had been up to me…” Harv trailed off, he knew at this point berating Harvey for their life choices did neither of them any good.

Bruce seemed to notice their momentary distracted gaze, and took the initiative with a hum and lightly touched both sides of their face to turn them back towards his eyes as he looked over their features.

“You know Harv. You actually can smile more than you think you can.” Bruce corrected very calmly.

It was Harv’s turn to look dumbfounded. “Even so, it can’t be a very good looking smile.”

Bruce furrowed his brows critically. “I love your smile.”

“You’re nuts.” Harv grumbled. “Come on, this face is disgusting.”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen lots of disgusting things as Batman. You’re not one of them. Trust me.”

He let go of their face and put his hands in his pockets. “You’re still “handsome harv” to me.” He said with a small little smile at referencing the nickname Harvey had gotten back in high-school and been continually referred to when he made his first run as a DA.

Harv kicked at the ground and crossed his arms. “Alright. Now you're just trying to stroke my ego.”

“If you keep being nasty to yourself and calling yourself disgusting, I’ll have no choice but to keep stroking it.”

Harv got a sudden wickedly fiendish look on his face. “That’s not the only thing you could str-”

“Hey! How about we finally pick a movie, huh?” Harvey declared suddenly.

Bruce raised his eyebrows almost cartoonishly high in amusement. “Oh, if you want a movie, I have one in mind that Superman and Flash have been badgering me to watch.”

He crossed over to curl up on the couch and patted the seat beside him to encourage Harv(ey) to join him. Now Bruce was the one with the slightly impish look on his face.

“YOU INTERRUPTED!” Harv hissed to Harvey inside their mind.

They sat down on the couch next to Bruce. “Now you’ve got me curious as to what kind of movie a speed demon and a burly alien would recommend.” Harvey chirped in response acting as if nothing happened.

“You were about to embarrass us!” Harvey thought in response trying to look perfectly fine and like they weren’t arguing.

“APOLOGIZE.”

“No.”

“And I’m supposed to be the one who’s the bad guy??”

Then, as the movie began, they both stiffened as Bruce was suddenly calmly leaning on their shoulder. They looked down at Bruce only to get another raised eyebrow in response. This time a raised eyebrow that they both decided to take as “you just going to stare or are you going to relax and put an arm around me?”.

So now here they were leaning back, an arm around Bruce, who had his head calmly on his shoulder. Bruce himself looked incredibly pleased with himself.

Both sat together happy to have each other back in their lives.

He remembered, fondly, the day Martha and Thomas had brought Bruce home, an early birth, but after their first child had been miscarried, it was certainly not an unwelcome one. Their small son’s life was wrought with hardship from the beginning, in and out to see doctors, it was lucky really that Thomas himself was a doctor or their child might have died before he was old enough to walk.

Yet it seemed that boy was just as stubborn as his parents and kept on living, even as he got older and seemed prone to getting sick and developed strep throat multiple times, Bruce would always still get back up to run and play with his friend another day.

Now… Alfred wasn’t so sure he’d make it, it pained him to even think it. He’d always adored the boy and looked after him, Martha and Thomas even had thought him like a third parent to Bruce… but now…

Now Bruce hadn’t said a word since it had happened, he often came in the morning to wake him up in the day only to find him staring straight up at the ceiling having not slept a wink. He had to beg the boy to eat a meal, still try to go to school, to keep living. Yet it was hard to wrestle with a small child who seemed intent on not living.

Not that he could blame him, he couldn’t blame him at all. He just wished he could reach him, do more, find that spark of determination to live that sweet, caring boy had been born with again.

Tonight, as he finally let himself get into bed, he had considered it a small victory that Bruce had accepted a mug of hot chocolate while sitting him in front of an uplifting movie. He hoped eventually, he could at least get Bruce to talk again.

What he hadn’t expected, was his door creaking open at roughly 1:00 AM, he had yet to sleep a wink himself of course, mind too filled with grieving and worry. He was certain he must have looked rather stunned as Bruce timidly peeked his small head in.

“Master Bruce? Do yo…”

He had never been so happy to be interrupted in the middle of a sentence. “Alfred... I can’t sleep, can I stay here?” His voice was quiet and slightly horse but it was there.

“Of course, you’re always welcome.” He reassured with kind, soft, eyes, moving to the side to allow the boy a comfortable amount of room to lie down.

The 8-year-old moved across the room faster than a passing shadow and climbed underneath the blankets next to the closest person he had as a parent.

At first, they both closed their eyes, trying to let sleep overtake them, only for Alfred to pop his eyes back open when he heard a quiet sniffling and looked to find tears running down Bruce’s face.

Normally, it was distressing to see a child cry, but for Bruce who hadn’t said a word in months, it was a miracle.

Immediately he took cautious motions to hug the boy to his chest, making sure he was welcome to offer such comfort before giving it. He started tearing up himself as Bruce’s small hands gripped onto the fabric of his pajamas and buried his face for comfort as he finally began to sob. Finally, expressing how unfair the whole thing felt, how horrific it had been, how much he had been carrying with him on a mind that had been permanently scared.