There are so many things Bruce distains about his "Brucie Wayneâ„¢" persona. For one, the guy is far too loud. He's an idiot, a know it all, charming in the worst way, just clueless enough to not be malicious, entitled, the list goes on.
Bruce knows for a fact, if Brucie Wayne was anyone but himself, he would find the fucker completely insufferable. But acting as Brucie? Well that is a different story. Sure there are annoyances. But it comes with so many more perks than pitfalls.
For one. He could kiss Superman. And no one would bat an eye. That's just typical Bruce Wayne behavior. Sure the tabloids would go wild about it. But there would be bigger, more interesting stories to be written by the time him and the big boy in blue hit the front page.
So, as compensation for a rather exhausting kidnapping he was forced to sit and whine his way through.. Bruce did just that.
Feeling those strong arms around him, pressed up against a chest that was practically carved from marble. He stared up into eyes that reflected flickering orange flames from the Metropolis warehouse fire he had just been so diligently rescued from.
He was fine, of course. A few scrapes and bumps, nothing close to what he would get on patrol, but, he hadn't exactly planned on being kidnapped at gunpoint, in broad fucking daylight after a press conference.
And Superman. Well he was more than fine. And Batman wouldn't have been able to stare, wouldn't have gawked so openly. Clung so tight.
"Are you alright?" Bruce didn't bother to suppress the shiver that ran down his spine. That voice, so close, breath brushing against his ear.. he could feel his face warming. His arms tightened around the back of Superman's neck. A low, soft, mildly awkward chuckle rumbled from the chest he was pressed so, so close to.
"We are on the ground now, Mr.Wayne. Nothing to fear." A firm hand patted Bruce's back, and he loosened his grip just a smidge, just enough to allow his now scuffed dress shoes to make contact with the asphalt below his feet.
Distant sirens drew closer. A crowd was gathering at a distance. And all Bruce's focus was on the man in front of him. On that brilliant, boy scout smile he had seen a million times. But never from this angle.
"Oh, yes, it seems we are. Thank you." He muttered, eyes slightly wide, tone just a bit more awestruck than he had planned it. Bruce's hands slowly eased their grip, where he had been holding to the man's shoulders for dear life. All an act, of course. Bruce knew Kal would never drop him.
Before Superman could give him one of his iconic lines about it being no trouble at all, Bruce stood on his toes.
And pressed his lips to Kal's. He had been aiming for the cheek, truly. But this? This was fine. Just a quick peck, that had Superman's eyes a little wide, and the tips of his ears a little red.
"Thank you, for saving me... Nice to meet you, Superman." Bruce gave him a silly, half breathless smile as he took a calculatedly clumsy step back. Superman caught him at the waist before he could trip over his own feet.
He cleared his throat, as that pink warmed his cheeks. "Just doing my job, glad to help. You- uh, be safe, Mr.Wayne."
And before Bruce could get another word out, he was gone. Brucie Wayne pressed his fingertips to his lips, and giggled, in a way only this side of him could ever truly get away with.
Bruce loved being Brucie Wayne.
