#thewatchtower

Chapter 10

11. Tea (not in both senses)

Location: Wayne Manor. Time: 15:42. Status: Active denial on both sides.

Rain lightly hits the living room windows. Gotham remains grey, damp, and cold, but inside the manor the atmosphere is warm: dim light, dark wood, and the aroma of freshly served tea.

Bruce holds the cup with both hands. Clark holds his like it is a delicate diplomatic mission.

Clark does not mention Rann. Bruce does not mention Gotham.

Neither mentions anything at all about the conversations that have turned their worlds upside down.

Clark: Alfred says the garden survived the storm.

Bruce: Yes.

Silence.

Clark: That is good.

Bruce: Mm.

Silence again.

These foolish lovers have decided to do the same thing, even without agreeing on it beforehand, so this tea meeting is neither interesting nor particularly pleasant.

Both of them have decided to act as if the recent confessions never happened. As if Clark did not admit he wants to sleep with Batman, that he likes his jaw (and pecs), and that what was once platonic is no longer so. As if Bruce did not flee across rooftops after confessing to Dick that he feels something “inappropriate” for Clark.

It is a terrible strategy. Doubly terrible because both of them are good strategists.

Clark takes another sip.

Bruce stares at the rain.

Clark: Kara says she will never drink anything yellow again.

Bruce: I hope she wasn’t talking about urine.

Neither of them is alarmed anymore by Bruce’s blunt honesty, although something in Clark’s chest shifts pleasantly at having another brief glimpse into Bruce’s internal, never-spoken world.

Clark: Something Rannian, actually.

Bruce lets out a huff.

Bruce: Then I should add purple drinks to the list.

Embarrassed, but unwilling to confess anything, Clark nods and lets silence spread again.

Porcelain clicks softly when Bruce sets his cup down on the table.

Bruce: Dick is… being insidious.

Since Clark can only think of one direction Dick might be insidious in after that time in the Batcave, his cheeks turn red. Fortunately, Bruce seems more focused on the rain than ever.

Clark: Ah…

Bruce nods, as if that were some kind of answer.

Bruce: Please give him space and let me handle it.

The thought coats his mouth in ash, but he cannot let Clark deal with Dick in this state. Bruce still does not know what state Dick is in and does not want to expose himself to it—but even less does he want Clark exposed to it. Whether Dick brings up Bruce’s messy feelings, or whether he chooses to be cruel again.

It still feels so strange that Dick would be cruel…

He had told him he liked seeing him accompanied by Clark, but Clark is his hero… Bruce thinks he understands why Dick might hate Bruce having “unclean” feelings and the problems that come with them.

Clark: Sure. And if you need space or compa—

At the same time, both of their League devices beep. The screen shows the message: “Justice League Priority. Zatanna requests immediate presence of Batman and Superman.”

Clark sets his cup down.

Bruce is already standing.

Clark: That doesn’t sound good.

Bruce: No.

A pause.

Bruce: But it is good: it means she has found something.

Batman could wear it under kilos of kevlar and black fabric, but Superman has always known his friend is an optimist.

Only an optimist fights to change things.

To be Continued...