#poly trinity

superwonderbat drabble for the prompt ‘reluctant cuddling’

Ao3

Summ:  It should be a happy occasion, but this year, it hurts. Diana and Clark do their best to comfort Bruce. (Set during Dick’s Spyral days)

Diana wasn’t expecting a call, but she takes it anyway, excusing herself from the meeting with the museum curator and stepping out into the hallway.

“Ms Prince? I hate to trouble you, but-”

Diana frowns, cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder. “What is it, Alfred?”

“Do you happen to know today’s date?”

It’s an odd question, even more so that Alfred is calling her to ask it. Diana’s no detective, not like Bruce, but she knows enough to take the hint. She wracks her mind, searching for meaning for the day. It’s not a birthday, not an anniversary of death, that much she knows for sure. Those are written on her calendar pinned to her kitchen wall. There are so many dates to remember. So that leaves, what, adop-

Ah.

She knows what today is. It should be a good day, a joyful day, but it’s hardly ever that simple with Bruce and his family, and today is no exception. “Yes,” she says, “and he is?”

“He is,” he pauses, “he is better than I had hoped, but still…” But still affected, of course. Still in need of support.

Diana nods to herself. “Clark and I will be there shortly.”

“I’ll make up a fresh pot of tea,” he says, and then, “thank you.”

Alfred hangs up before she can reply. So that’s where Bruce gets it from.

Diana shoots Clark a short text: a name and a time, and heads to her office to fetch her coat.

Clark's waiting for her when she arrives in the Manor gardens, glasses sitting askew on his nose. She lands right in his space, correcting his glasses before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I still can’t believe he’s gone,” Clark says, and neither can she. But today, they need to be the resolute ones, the shoulders to cry on, so to speak. Bruce isn’t the type to cry, not like this. So she nods, kisses him again, and leads the way to the house.

They pause at the front door for a moment, a question coming to them simultaneously. Do they knock? Do they walk right in? Will they get taken down by a hail of Kryptonite if they do try? Alfred opens the door before they can decide.

Silently, he ushers them inside, the usual smalltalk absent, and Clark feels the need to fill it, mostly with worry. “Is there anything we can-”

“It's taken care of,” the old man says, and there's a heaviness in his eyes that Diana feels in her chest. Burying a grandson is too much. “He's upstairs. Though I'm sure you already knew that.” Alfred was never quite comfortable with their super senses in the house; apparently he has a monopoly on that trait.

Diana thanks him as he turns away and heads toward the kitchen. There’s so much more that she could -should- say, but there’s nothing that she can offer Alfred right now, not with words. But looking after his son, that’s something she can do. Always.

They find him in the sun room, sitting stiffly on the chaise, hands clasped in his lap. His knuckles are white and his breaths are forcibly even, but he looks the pinnacle of calmness.

“He didn’t need to call you.”

Diana shrugs. He’s right of course -Bruce usually is - but that doesn’t mean that they shouldn’t be here.  

“Can we sit?” Clark asks, and the tension in the room grows thicker and thicker with every breath. Asking is good, but Bruce doesn’t do well with questions, not questions like this.

Bruce doesn't reply, which is answer enough, so Diana and Clark sit on either side of Bruce, not close enough to be touching, but enough to let him know they’re there.

It’s a waiting game with Bruce, it always seems to be.

The silence begs to be filled, but there’s nothing to fill it with. All the empty platitudes had been said too many times, and the promise of ice cream, a staple of any good adoption anniversary celebration, doesn’t so sweet. So they sit there, side by side, in the silence of the sun room, watching until the night begins to fall. Bruce doesn’t mention it when Clark’s arm slides around his shoulders, doesn’t shrug off the touch, so it’s a start. Diana takes his hand in hers, letting him know it’s okay for him to ask for what he needs.

Bruce doesn’t ask, he never asks, but she and Clark have learnt a thing or two about Bruce and comfort in all their years together. They offer all they can give, and let Bruce be the one to make the decision.

He moves slowly, as if waiting for a rejection that he should know, by now, will never come. Too slowly, too afraid. Too hurt.

“Come here,” Diana says, clear in her compassion and intent, and it's all Bruce needs. Bruce hides his face in Diana's collarbone, an arm slipping around her waist. Clark brackets them from behind, one of his hands covering hers across Bruce's back.

In their arms, Bruce takes a deep breath that shudders on the way out. He won’t cry, Diana knows, not like this, but it is enough. This is what he needs.

“I miss him,” Bruce says eventually in Diana’s shoulder.

“I know.” Diana misses him too. The Manor is much too quiet without him, even if he did spend most of his time in Bludhaven in the lead up to... Yes, Diana misses him, misses his sweet smile, as jovial as it was when he was still wearing pixie boots.

Clark stays quiet, immediately suspect. “There’s something you’re not telling us,” he says eventually, “but I trust you have a good reason for that.”

Bruce nods. Diana doesn’t push. The truth will be revealed at some point, it always is, and she has faith in that. She has faith in Clark and Bruce, too.

The stillness of the room is only broken by Bruce’s yawn. “Would you like us to stay?” Diana asks, not because she wants to leave, but because she wants Bruce to make the call.

Bruce grunts, and Diana feels the muscles in his shoulders tighten beneath her fingertips. “I have to patrol tonight.” He pulls away from them, his cheek reddened from where it lay against Diana's shoulder.

“Oracle is taking care of it,” Diana says, “your team is taking care of it.” Let us take care of you.

Bruce eyes her for a moment longer before nodding. “You can stay.”

Diana’s known him long enough to read between the lines. Bruce wants them here, and the softening of Bruce’s brow feels like an admission.

Bruce settles in the arms again, his face pressed against Diana’s chest. “We’re here for you,” she says, her lips brushing against his forehead. Clark hums his agreement, rubbing circles low on Bruce’s back.

Soft enough that only they can hear, Bruce murmurs, “thank you,” into their embrace.

Superwonderbat angst for the prompt “last cuddle”

(I’m sorry)

Ao3

Summ: “Hold me,” Bruce says, and it sounds like a prayer, “please. Hold me until the end.” 

Old age catches up with Bruce. Clark and Diana do what they can to help. 

thank you @flareontoast <3

So Bruce isn’t really the type to go on vacation, and neither are Clark and Diana really. That being said, they definitely need one. With the lives they lead, it’s hard enough for them to all be in the same city at the same time, so they really need some time where they can relax, spend some time together and just have fun. Not that Bruce would say so. But maybe after a quiet spell in Gotham, or a heavy League mission, Bruce finally caves and the trinity go on vacation! 

They’re still on call, of course, but their teammates and families (family) can be trusted to monitor the day-to-day happenings. 

So, vacation! Thanks to Bruce, they end up at this luxurious and exclusive resort which is well-versed in catering to clientele who value their privacy. 

They spend most of their days by the pool. Diana is a water baby at heart, spending most of her time in the water. Clark does as well, though Bruce prefers to stay in the shade, reading or just watching his lovers enjoy themselves, dangling his feet in the water when it gets too hot. On the third day, Clark gets tired of this, and picks Bruce up, tossing him into the deep end. Coughing and spluttering as he surfaces, Bruce serves a sharp look to Clark, who’s doubled over with laughter. Bruce turns to Diana for sympathy to find her in a similar state. And that’s when the water fight begins. At some point, poor Bruce ends up being used as a projectile, which sends all three of them into a laughing fit. Diana and Clark spend the rest of the afternoon playing catch with their lover, who grumbles about it later but can’t hide his grin. 

Their room is divine, a single California King bed that fits the three of them comfortably, and a spa bath that also accommodates all of them at once (and they make excellent use of both). When they aren’t using either, they sit outside on the balcony, trying each and every food listed on the room service menu. Watching the sun set, they laze together on one poor chaise that groans under their combined weight, sipping champagne and feeding each other bites of fresh fruit. 

Okay thank you for clarifying anon (and please don’t hide, I just wanted to make sure I knew what you wanted!)

So with your scenario, Clark, not being fully onboard with sex with them yet, Diana and Bruce being *very* onboard, I’d say that it would have been something they had talked about, like I said in an earlier answer.

In this case I think Clark would be okay with Diana and Bruce sleeping together, but whether Bruce and Diana actually sleep together, I think is another matter. I’d like to think maybe they wait until Clark is ready, or they try. Or maybe they drop hints with Clark, encouraging him to join them, how good it will be with the three of them, lightly teasing (if Clark is okay with that). Perhaps even using Clark’s heightened senses to their advantage, mentioning him during intimate acts, knowing he can hear ;)

In your example, it sounds as though nerves (and perhaps inexperience) is holding Clark back, so assurances from both Bruce and Diana would definitely help him become more comfortable with joining them.