#of 4

Sorry this took so long, hopefully this chapter will be worth the wait.

Chapter 3

That was not the last he’d seen of Superman and super-delicious sandwiches. At least once a week the man of steel managed to find an excuse to stop by and deliver a sandwich. Out on patrol, during one of his infrequent visits to Metropolis, he even pulled him aside during a gala just in case he was hungry and too busy to grab food.

After the third sandwich Bruce couldn’t resist satisfying his curiosity to discover what was making the sandwiches so delicious. Looking back on it might make it sound silly, ok, it was a little silly, but he had to know what it was. He carefully studied the different components of the piece of sandwich he had refrained from eating.

Were the ingredients rare or high quality? Nope, just normal store-bought ingredients except for the pesto. Were the combination of ingredients superior to other sandwiches? He asked Alfred to make him a sandwich with the exact same ingredients but it just wasn’t the same. Were there hidden ingredients that enhanced the flavor without being noticed? A kind of secret ingredient? Not one that he’d been able to detect. He was stumped.

He moved on from analyzing the sandwiches to analyzing Superman’s increased number of interactions with Bruce and Batman. While it had become obvious many years ago that Clark liked to hang out with Bruce on and off duty, he had never usually visited more than two times a month, unless they were working together on a case.

Something had changed and he didn’t know what or why, but he had to admit to himself that he liked Clark being around more often, even if Bruce knew it would just make his feelings harder to ignore. Especially when he was tucked into bed after patrol and couldn’t help feeling colder without the unusually warm Kryptonian by his side. Almost able to imagine him tucked around his body keeping both his body and heart warm, only to open his eyes and see the empty pillow across from him.

But such daydreams were useless; it was unlikely that Clark held similar feelings and even if he did like Bruce that way  all of Bruce’s problems and insecurities would undoubtedly drive him away. It was better to not give much thought to a hope only to have it savagely dashed later on. Not that Clark would be harsh with his rejection, his mother had raised him too well, no, Bruce knew that if they did start such a relationship he would not be able to return to his current solitary existence, not after sharing his life with the other half of his soul.

--

This evening Bruce found himself at yet another Gala that he couldn’t avoid attending. It was for a good cause and he needed to be seen in public more to make up for all the time he had spent taking down a drug-trafficking ring that had foolishly tried to expand into Batman’s City.

He had entered with a model, whose name he had already forgotten, and made a round of greetings and was currently suffering in the company of a man who couldn’t speak on a topic for more than a minute without somehow making the conversation about himself again. He was even more infuriating than Brucie Wayne was supposed to be!

He was desperately looking for an escape, not able to stand being in the man’s vicinity any longer without wanting to punch the man in the face, when he caught sight of a poorly fitted tweed suit. He quickly made excuses to the punchable man and hurried over to Clark, who luckily was not interviewing anyone at the moment, grabbed his arm and practically dragged him across the room and out onto the balcony.

Bruce couldn’t stop himself from holding on to Clark’s arm while breathing a sigh of relief from having escaped the situation. Then he glanced up at Clark and felt his heart skip a beat at the warmth in his eyes. He felt himself being pulled closer in his arms but couldn’t concentrate after Clark licked his lips, drawing his gaze to their perfection.

//Hod and Balder are the equivalent of 2-3 years old in this

Sometimes, the meetings seemed like they went on forever. All members seemed like they only wanted to hear themselves talk. But finally, finally it was over. The delegates from the other realms thanked Odin for the invitation, members of the court gracious as they stood. It had been a long day and all Odin wanted to do was return to his family, especially his lady wife for the remainder of the evening.

Just as he was heading out of the throne room, he heard a child’s cry, one that drew his attention immediately. Automatically, he turned in that direction, before stopping as he caught sight of twin toddler boys.

His sons, the ones fate had taken from him. Except no one else knew, especially them.

Over the years, Odin and Frigga had never forgot about the two of them. Sometimes months would go by without either of them mentioning them, but then they would come up again. Never in front of their children or anyone else who might overhear their secret. Usually at night, when husband and wife were in bed, the boy’s names whispered between them. Sometimes it was wondering how the twins were doing, what their first words had been, were they happy and if Ragnarok had been stopped.  No matter how long the conversation was, it always ended the same way, with guilt weighting down like an extra blanket. No matter how many times Odin stroked his wife’s hair and insisted what had been done was for the best, he sometimes had trouble believing it himself. At least until he doubled down and remembered, he did not make mistakes.

He hadn’t told Frigga, but he secretly kept an eye on the Hod and Balder. Not enough to get emotionally attached or anything, but quick glances here and there, making sure they were fine and wanted for nothing. No one had any idea that the generous benefactor of the orphaned boys was the king and queen themselves.

One of them-he realized with a jolt that he couldn’t tell which was which-was sprawled on the ground crying. Even though they were not identical twins, Odin hadn’t spent any time around them to know which one Balder was and which was Hod. They both were still tiny, barely up to his knee.

Whichever one it was, something was wrong, as he lay on the floor, wailing as if the world was ending. His twin peered down at him, complexed, as if he didn’t understand what was happening.

Odin scowled. When he had given the boys to the court, it had discreetly come back to him that they had a nanny who was with them all the time, where was this woman? Her only job was to be taking care of his children. With a deep sigh, he gathered himself and started to stride toward the toddlers.

Then, as if thought alone had summoned her, a woman long red hair appeared out of nowhere, looking hassled as she scooped up the sobbing child. With one arm, she cradled him close, as his twin at her feet pawed up at her frantically. A tired weary look passed over her as she tried to deal with both at the same time.

Even from a distance, Odin was able to make out her strained words and gleaned that she was holding Hod, and it was Balder at her feet. None of them had noticed him yet, it left him free to be able to study the two of them, the children taken away him. They looked healthy and while it was hard to judge in this moment, probably were fine. Except for the fact this woman didn’t seem capable of handling twin toddlers.

The crying quieted and the woman transferred the child to her hip, only to then notice the King of Asgard standing close by. With a small gasp, she put the boy down and curtsied. “Your Majesty.”

There was a lot Odin wanted to say to her, mostly to know how his sons were doing and what type of job she was doing with their care. But before he could say anything, he noticed the way both hid behind her skirts. Clinging, Hod and Balder were pressed against her legs, only peeking out at him with something between fear and curiosity.

With a jolt, it was that moment that Odin realized they didn’t belong to him anymore. Neither of them knew who he was. If their nanny hadn’t appeared and he had gone over to comfort Hod, they wouldn’t have responded the way Thor and Loki did, these two probably would have been frightened of him. A strange, large old man coming out of nowhere that probably would have made the situation worse.

With a slow exhale, he turned his attention back to their caregiver. “You better take the children back to their room.”

She nodded and curtsied again, taking a small hand in each of hers. “Yes, your majesty. Come along, boys.”

Odin stood there a moment and watched as she led them down the hall and out of sight. Off to some room to somewhere in the palace that he realized he didn’t know where. It could have been easy to find, a few discreet words here and there. But why would the king be interested in two random children? It could raise questions and that was the last thing he needed.

There was one thing he was going to do, secretly pass along through a series of messengers that the benefactor of the two boys was displeased with their nanny and that a new one be found immediately.  

As they walked away, a piece of him hoped at least one of them would turn back to look, but neither did. It made sense. He wasn’t in their lives and neither were aware that he was their father.

Someone please explain this weird ass approach the daycare I'm working at is using with language.

"Is your body hungry?"

"Ouch! That hurts my body! Please don't hit."

"Does your body need to use the potty?"

"Keep your feet on the floor, you don't want to fall cause that will hurt your body!"

"Please leave your friend alone, they don't want you touching their body."