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Clark tried to not look bored. It wouldn’t be good for Superman to look bored during a League meeting. Sure, a few of the other members were visibly bored, but Superman was supposed to set a good example. Still, Arthur had a way of going on and on in his mission reports. And, to be fair, League meetings were often not the most riveting thing. Work meetings were always a little boring, even when the work in question was being Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.
He tried to keep himself busy by looking around the table. Diana was listening politely, but, knowing her as well as he did, he could see some of her irritation fighting through. Diana liked concise and pragmatic mission reports. Barry was one of the ones not hiding their boredom well. Not that he usually did. Batman was… It was hard to tell.
Clark liked to think that he had grown to know his friend pretty well–or as well as one could when said friend still hadn’t shown his face or told anyone his real name. Clark had gotten pretty good at picking up on the subtleties of Batman’s expressions, and he could even tell when he was telling a joke. No matter what Hal said, Batman definitely told jokes. He was actually pretty funny once you looked past the deadpan, dry delivery and realized when he was joking. In fact, the deadpan made it funnier at times. He was like a grumpy Buster Keaton. The Great Stoneface indeed.
Despite that, in situations like this, it was hard to tell if that firm set of his mouth was annoyance, or just his usual stoicism. Clark kept inspecting him. Fairly quickly, his attempt at deducing Batman’s facial expression (from the nose down) was derailed. This was common for Clark when he looked at Batman. Instead Clark found himself studying the transition of color from the light pink of his lips to the paleness of his skin and the slightly pouty angle of his top lip. Clark could see the blueish-gray of dark facial hair under his skin just beginning to grow in due to the lateness of the day. It always thrilled Clark to see that. That small suggestion of what was hidden under the mask. Dark hair would suit him. He wondered if he kept it closely cropped like his soldier-like discipline would suggest, or if he ever let it get shaggy due to his habit of focusing wholly on a case and neglecting other, smaller things.
It was only because he was looking so closely that Clark noticed the minute shift of Batman’s head. Oh shit, was he looking at Clark now? Did he see him staring at his mouth? Clark’s eyes darted away. They landed on Diana instead. She was already looking back from the corner of her eye, looking amused. Goddamnit. Clark glanced discreetly around the table, but no one else seems to have noticed his distraction, nor the subject of it. Good. Diana was already aware of his infatuation, so, while embarrassing, it wasn’t too bad that she caught him staring. Clark just hoped that Batman actually hadn’t. He put more effort into listening to Arthur talk. That was safer. He must be almost done by now, anyways.
Eventually, Arthur did finish. After that was a much more succinct report from J’onn–who Clark also hoped had been paying close enough attention to Arthur that he hadn’t noticed Clark’s earlier thought process about Batman. He figured that, by now, J’onn had to have picked up a stray thought or emotion from Clark about the caped crusader at some point, but he was polite enough to never bring it up. He just hoped that any of the thoughts he had picked up in the past were the less… lewd ones.
The meeting finally ended, and everyone began gathering up their things to head out. Clark was getting up from the table himself when Batman stopped him.
“Superman. Would you mind staying behind? I have something further to discuss with you.”
Clark blinked at him, halfway out of his chair. Crap. Had he seen Clark earlier? No. This couldn’t be about that. Batman wouldn’t call Clark out about ogling his team member during a meeting, would he? He might. Batman may be allergic to discussing emotions, but he was also definitely a stickler about ensuring that his team members behave professionally with one another during working hours.
“Oooh,” Hal said from the doorway to the meeting room. “Someone’s in trouble with mom.”
“Wait,” Barry said from just outside in the hall. “Is he mom or dad when we’re in trouble?”
“Depends on what kind of trouble it is, and if he’s angry or just disappointed,” Hal replied.
“Both of you are blocking the door and behaving like idiots,” Shayera told them.
She shoved Hal through the door. From the sound of it right into Barry, who made an affronted and pained sound. She followed them out. After that was Diana, who was last out of the room, and gave Clark a reassuring look as she went. Clark sat back down, and the door shut behind them.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, trying not to sound nervous.
“No,” Batman said.
Clark felt relief wash through him.
“This is regarding a… personal matter.”
Batman sounded uncomfortable under his usual steadiness. Clark was immediately nervous again.
“It’s not incredibly pressing. If you have something more important to attend to, then it can wait for another time.
“No,” Clark said. “Nothing important. Go ahead.”
He figured it would be best to get whatever this was out of the way. If it was going to be embarrassing or emotionally devastating, then Clark would prefer to deal with it now rather than stew in his worry.
“Do you have much experience caring for cows?” Batman finally said.
Clark stared. He tried to process the question. He kept staring. Batman offered nothing further to elaborate.
“Cows?” He asked.
Batman gave a small sigh from his nose. He was as close to fidgeting as Clark had ever seen him.
“Yes. Cows. I know, obviously, that you grew up on a farm. You had mentioned in the past that you had to do some animal-related chores as a child, but I was wondering if you ever cared for cows.”
“Yeah… We had a few cows when I was a kid,” Clark replied, still absolutely baffled. “Ma has a couple now, too. I helped feed them, clean out the barn… All the usual farm animal chores.”
Batman nodded. Clark waited. It was silent.
“...Why?” Clark finally asked.
“It’s something mission related,” Batman replied quickly. For some reason, Clark didn’t believe him. “What would you say are the most important things to consider when caring for one? Do they need additional food if you provide them with a grazing area?”
“Well,” Clark said. “It’s best to give cows some additional ruffage, so hay is important to have. Especially if you live somewhere that has inclement weather and seasonal changes.”
Batman hummed and nodded.
“How much space would you say a cow needs?”
“A single cow? I mean… I’m not completely sure. Maybe an acre of grazing land? And a good sized indoor space where they can sleep and keep warm.”
“Would a standard barn work, or should it be heated?”
“Heated would probably be best. And if you only have one cow then it would actually be more important since they wouldn’t have a herd to huddle with when they’re cold.”
Batman made an understanding sound and nodded again. After a few more quiet moments, he stood from the table. Clark stood as well.
“Thank you,” Batman said.
Then he turned and walked away before Clark could reply. Clark watched him go, black cape flowing behind him. That had been very, very weird.
***
Over the next couple of days, Batman never followed up with more questions. Clark didn’t press him. He had been tempted a few times to ask how his apparently cow-related mission had gone, but held back. He knew by now that if Batman hadn’t already shared more on his own, then he likely wouldn’t want to if asked. They had only seen each other in person one other time since their enigmatic bovine conversation, anyways, and there had been more pressing matters to attend to. Clark did anticipate seeing him today, though. He was supposed to be at the Watchtower to meet with Wonder Woman about something, and Clark was around having just finished up monitor duty.
At the moment, he was with Hal and Barry in the cafeteria, chatting. Clark leaned back on the edge of one of the tables and listened. Barry was talking about an upcoming date he was planning with Iris. Hal was trying to provide advice on what to do on said date with… mixed levels of validity. Clark didn't even try to add anything. He didn't have much experience dating. He and Lois had had a more unusual road to their relationship, and Clark hadn't dated much at all in the years following their divorce. He knew why, of course. It never felt quite right dating someone knowing that so much of himself was already silently devoted to someone else.
“Superman,” a voice suddenly interrupted.
All three of them turned to the speaker. It was a child. Clark corrected himself in his head. A young hero. Very young. At least it seemed like he was younger than most of the young heroes Clark had met. It was hard to tell, but in either case, Clark didn’t recognize him. He was wearing a red, green, and black costume and a black domino mask. He had tan skin, spiky dark hair and a very serious look with his arms crossed over his chest. He also had what looked to be a katana strapped to his back.
“I have something of importance to discuss with you,” the boy continued.
“Oh,” Clark said intelligently. “Um…”
“Is that a child with a sword ?” Hal interrupted.
The boy looked at Hal. His eyes narrowed.
“I don’t know,” he replied, tone tinged with sarcasm. “Is that a child with a superpowered extraterrestrial ring?”
Hal’s mouth dropped open, looking both bewildered and offended. As he sputtered in response, Barry choked on a laugh. The boy looked back at Clark.
“Superman. Are you available to have a discussion with me?” He sounded a bit irritated at this point.
Clark tried to figure out what to say aside from “who the hell are you?”, “who let you in here?” and “where is your adult?” He got the impression that none of those questions would be well received. Maybe if he phrased it better?
“I’m available at the moment,” Clark finally said. “I don’t think we’ve met? Are you here with a League member?”
“I’m Robin, and yes; I do work with a member of the League,” he replied dismissively. Clark noticed that that wasn’t entirely an answer to his second question. “Is there somewhere more private to speak?”
He gave a fleeting glance to the other two heroes with him. Barry was looking between Robin, Clark and Hal, entertained. Hal… Hal was visibly annoyed.
“Kid,” Hal said. “How did you get in here? Shouldn’t there be someone minding you? Maybe with one of those child-leashes?”
Robin raised his chin slightly, somehow appearing to be looking down his nose at the Green Lantern despite being nearly a foot shorter than him.
“I could ask you the same questions,” he responded.
“ Oh shit ,” Barry whispered.
Hal’s fists clenched. He took a halting step forward and opened his mouth.
“Robin.”
A deep voice from the entrance of the room cut off anything he was about to say. They all turned to see Batman striding in. Wonder Woman and one of their newer, part-time recruits, Nightwing, followed behind. Diana seemed intrigued like Clark was. Nightwing, on the other hand, was making… a face. Clark couldn’t really place what his expression was.
“What are you doing here?” Batman asked, sounding even sterner than usual.
“I came to speak with Superman about an important matter,” Robin responded.
He appeared shockingly unaffected by Batman’s tone. The group of three reached them and stopped. Batman pinched at the bridge of his nose with a quiet sigh.
“Let me rephrase,” he said. “ How did you get here? I know for a fact that my zeta tube access is heavily protected, and I can’t imagine you approaching Oracle or RR for assistance hacking it. Or, more accurately, I can’t imagine Oracle agreeing and I can’t imagine you approaching RR.”
“I wouldn’t need assistance,” the boy retorted. “Let alone from that poor facsimile of a–”
“Robin,” Batman cut in firmly.
Robin huffed. His haughty look was undercut by a pout that was more fitting to his age. He looked away from Batman dismissively for a moment, and Batman seemed to note the direction of his glance. He turned to make silent eye contact with Nightwing. The younger hero looked like a deer caught in headlights.
“W– uh. Okay, “ Nightwing stumbled over his words. “It’s complicated. He wasn’t supposed to–”
Batman cut him off with a raised hand.
“We will discuss this later,” he said.
Nightwing sighed, resigned, and scratched at the back of his neck.
“Okay. What the hell,” Hal spoke up. “Spooky, are you responsible for this kid?”
He gestured broadly to Robin, who managed to visibly roll his eyes despite his eyes not being visible behind his mask.
“Robin trains under me in Gotham,” Batman answered without elaboration.
“Woah,” Barry said. “Mr. Lone Wolf has a sidekick? I thought you preferred to work alone?”
Nightwing made a sound close to a snort before glancing away innocently when Batman cast him a look.
“What parents let you be in charge of their kid?” Hal snarked.
Batman and Robin both stared silently at him. Their faces were nearly identical in how they expressed their clear judgement of Hal’s intelligence. In fact, they were so identical that the other penny was quick to drop.
“What? Seriously?” Hal shouted.
Clark felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. Batman had a child? How had Clark never known that? Was the other parent involved? He felt something catch in his chest. Rao. Was Batman married?
“I can’t believe a woman actually had sex with you!” Hal continued.
“Lantern,” Diana cut in, chastising.
She gave a pointed nod to the child in the room. The child who was the result of the sex Hal was implying. The sex Batman had to have had. Batman had sex. Clark knew, obviously, that Batman had probably had sex at some point. Or was having sex. Not– Not right now. Clearly. But in general. He tried to stop thinking about it.
“You would be the preeminent expert on struggling to get women to procreate with you,” Robin told Hal.
“ Okay what the fuck !” He shouted back. “Listen, you little–”
“ Lantern ,” Diana asserted again as Barry, stifling laughter, grabbed onto Hal’s arm to stop his angry movement forward.
“ Robin ,” Batman said.
He put a firm hand on the boy’s shoulder with a clearly disapproving look. Robin huffed again, pouting and looking away.
“Why do you need to speak with Superman,” Batman continued, “and why did you think it was better to come up here, unaccompanied, despite obviously not having the clearance, instead of asking me to pass on whatever you needed to say?”
Robin rolled his eyes again.
“You already tried and failed,” he replied. “You didn’t get nearly enough information and clearly don’t know what needs to be asked. It seemed better for me to handle it myself since the matter is my responsibility.”
Batman was visibly frustrated. It wasn’t in his usual way, either. Normally his frustration was colored by irritation and a tone of judgement. Now, it was more exasperation. He looked like he was holding back from putting his face in his hands. It was an extremely parental type of frustration. Clark knew the feeling well from dealing with his own sons. He loved them, obviously, but every parent knew that feeling. He had never expected to see this particular behavior from Batman of all people. It was incredibly endearing, if he was being honest.
“This is about that ,” Batman sighed. “Robin...”
“I’m happy to help out with whatever the situation is,” Clark cut in, hoping to defuse the argument. “I don’t mind, at all.”
“That isn’t the point,” Batman said, “but thank you. Since he’s already here, we might as well. Are you free to come to meeting room D to speak now?”
“Sure,” Clark said.
Using his hand on Robin’s shoulder to guide him, Batman turned without anything more and led the young hero with him to the exit. Clark followed. He noted that Batman spared Nightwing a pointed look as they passed. He was given a weak, sheepish grin in response.
“Damn, Lantern,” Clark heard Flash saying as they left. “That kid really handed you your ass.”
“Shut the fuck up, Barry," Hal spat back.
Clark followed the two a bit down the hall and into the empty meeting room. He closed the door behind him and Robin cut right to the chase.
“Batman tells me that you have experience with cattle,” he said.
“Wha–”
“He did not give me extensive details out of respect for your secret identity, but assured me of just that much,” Robin continued.
“This,” Clark said, “is about the cow thing?”
Batman didn’t quite meet his eye, but gave a short nod.
“Yeah,” Clark continued. “I mean… I haven’t lived around cattle in a while, but I did when I was younger, and I help out from time to time with–”
He paused, glancing at Batman, and made an executive decision. If Robin was Batman’s son, and Batman trusted him enough to train him as a hero, he figured that the boy was trustworthy.
“I help out from time to time with my Ma’s cattle,” he finished. “I grew up on my parents’ farm in Kansas. We had a handful of cows and other animals when I was a kid, and Ma still has some livestock”
“I thought you were an alien?” Robin asked, intrigued.
“I am. My human parents, the Kents, took me in as a baby after my birth parents sent me away from our planet as it was destroyed.”
Robin hummed and digested this for a moment. He apparently decided that Clark’s life story was ultimately unimportant, however.
“Good,” he said. “So then you’re well versed in animal husbandry.”
“Can I finally know what this is actually about?” Clark asked, still feeling very lost.
“I have recently taken in a cow,” Robin told him. “A Hereford, specifically. Based on my research, I have determined that she is about two-years-old. Father also had a vet come to check that she was in good health, and he assured us that she was.”
Clark’s mouth had dropped slightly open, baffled. He looked over at Batman again.
“You gave your son a cow? As a pet?”
It wasn’t too odd of an idea to Clark, having grown up in a rural farm town. However, he struggled to picture someone having a cow as a pet in Gotham. Batman sighed wearily.
“We found the cow during a case,” Batman said. “The circumstances of the case meant that she would have to be relocated once it was done. I was planning on finding appropriate placement, but…” He spared a look to his son. “Robin requested that we keep her.”
“Will you have room to house a cow in the city?” Clark asked.
“We live on the outskirts of Gotham and have more than enough space both inside and out,” Batman answered.
Clark silently filed this new detail of his friend away. For some reason, he never expected Gotham’s knight to not live in the city proper. In the past, Clark had almost wondered if he lived in the belfries of Gotham Cathedral like a proper bat.
“Furthermore,” Batman continued, “Robin has proven to be a responsible and informed pet owner, so I decided that it was appropriate.”
Robin preened under the praise. Clark was trying not to show on his face how adorable this whole situation was. Batman not only had a son, but he indulged him. Batman agreed to let his son have a cow that they rescued on a vigilante mission, and even went out of his way to ask Clark for advice regarding the cow despite being clearly embarrassed about the whole thing.
“I’ve done extensive research,” Robin told him. “I more or less know the appropriate food and housing she will need.”
“Because I did actually ask Superman all of that,” Batman cut in.
“You didn’t ask how much hay we should provide!” Robin argued. He turned back to Clark. “I have read that it should be an average-sized bale of hay a day, but I don’t know if that is in supplement to the grazing pasture she will have, or if I should provide more in case she needs it. Furthermore, Father didn’t ask about how frequently she will need to have her living area cleaned and refreshed. The resources I could find only discuss those aspects in regards to larger herds of cattle, not one cow.”
“Well,” Clark began. “A bale a day is a good go to, but it wouldn’t hurt to have another one in there in case she needs it. Especially in the colder months. Include some alfalfa with the grass hay, too. For cleaning the barn, it depends on what part of the cleaning you’re talking about– changing bedding, spraying down, sweeping…. I could try and write up a more specific cleaning schedule and give it to you.”
Clark took a peek at Batman who was giving him a look that made his heart skip. There was a bit of a smile, and a grateful tilt to his head. Clark returned the smile.
“That would work well,” Robin said. Batman cleared his throat after a moment and Robin continued at this prompting. “Thank you.”
“Of course. I did also want to mention, though, that speaking of herds, cattle are herd animals. One cow might get lonely without company. She’ll bond with you, for sure, if you spend a lot of time with her, but if you’re not getting more cattle, she’d be happier with additional animal company.”
“Could a cow bond with a dog or a cat? I have both. They are both well trained.”
Clark smiled.
“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “Though, my Ma used to have a cow, Mable, who was very fond of one of our barn cats, Sunny. He used to loaf on her back and ride her around while she grazed, and she would curl up with him to sleep sometimes.”
Robin was trying to maintain his stoicism, but was clearly delighted by the prospect.
“Alfred is a very affectionate cat,” he said. “And Titus is very friendly, as well. I’m sure that they will be very welcoming to Bat-cow.”
Clark choked. Eyes wide, he did his best not to look at Batman. Still, he could see the man’s head drop forward from the corner of his eye. He heard him give a resigned sigh.
“‘Bat-cow’?” Clark asked, voice slightly high. “Is that her name?”
Robin gave a sharp nod.
“Yes. It is a very appropriate name for her.”
“I’m sure that it is. It’s a great name.”
His voice was still strained, but he was getting it under control. Regardless, Clark could feel Batman’s glare.
“How many cows does your mother currently have?” Robin asked, curious.
“Three, at the moment. It’s a small farm. She also has some chickens and ducks, a cat, and a mule that’s bonded quite a bit with her cows.”
Clark could tell that Robin wanted to ask more questions about the farm. He was doing his best to maintain the very aloof air he had, but his excitement about the list of animals was clear. Clark found himself speaking again before he could think otherwise.
“You should come out, sometime!” He told them. “Ma loves having visitors and would love to introduce you to her animals. She’d probably be able to answer any questions about caring for them better than I could, anyways.”
Robin visibly perked up at this. His head whipped around to look imploringly at his father. It was then that Clark realized that he should have cleared this with Batman, first. He gave the man an apologetic grimace over Robin’s head.
“We wouldn’t want to be an imposition,” Batman said, already sounding resigned.
“He said she loves having visitors,” Robin insisted. Batman gave him a look. “I would, of course, be very gracious and polite considering her hospitality. Furthermore, it would be extremely educational for me.”
Batman sighed.
“To be clear,” Clark interjected. “You would be able to come in your mask and cowl. I wouldn’t ask you to sacrifice your privacy, and Ma is very laid back about superhero things, at this point. She wouldn’t mind, at all.”
He tried not to laugh at picturing the hulking, black shape of Batman sitting in his Ma's sunny, yellow farm kitchen eating homemade cookies. He wasn’t lying though; Ma definitely wouldn’t bat an eye at the image. No pun intended.
“Also, um,” he fought the urge to fidget. “My son Jon is about your age, I think. I could bring him out to the farm too. I’d have to check with his mom, but I’m sure she’d agree. He’s helped Ma with the chores and I’m sure he’d be glad to show you around.”
He took another peek at Batman, who actually seemed somewhat pleased at the prospect of their son’s meeting each other. Clark was glad. Robin gave a half shrug, trying to look apathetic about the addition.
“I suppose so,” he said. “So long as father approves of the visit.”
They both turned to the man. He stared back and eventually gave in.
“We can go. As long as Mrs. Kent is okay with it. Thank you, Superman. We can discuss the details once your mother approves the visit.”
Clark grinned at him, and Robin had a very smug look on his face.
At that point, they headed back to the door and went back out. Clark was surprised to see Nightwing waiting outside, leaning against the wall a bit down the hallway. He perked up when he saw them, but tried to act nonchalant.
“Nightwing,” Batman called out. “I trust you can ensure that Robin gets home safely?”
He gave the man a pointed look and gently directed Robin towards him. Nightwing gave an abashed grin and held an arm out to receive the boy as he approached.
“Of course,” he said, resting a hand on Robin’s shoulder and beginning to lead him away.
“We’ll talk later,” Batman followed up firmly.
Nightwing’s shoulders tensed, and he nodded without looking back. Clark watched the interaction with a heavy amount of confusion and, he could admit, a bit of anxiety. They had all gotten the sense that Nightwing and Batman knew each other before the younger man had joined the League. There had been a sense of familiarity between the two underneath their professionalism with each other. Clark, like most of them, figured that their paths must have crossed due to Bludhaven’s proximity to Gotham. Now, though, it was clear that they were more than familiar.
Nightwing not only knew that Batman had a son before any of them did, but was close enough to the both of them that Batman trusted his son alone with him. Not to mention the clear impression that Nightwing was, in some way, responsible for Robin’s appearance on the Watchtower to begin with. Clark wondered exactly how they did know each other. Also how well they knew each other and in what… capacity. He didn't want to assume anything, and he wasn't too sure of Nightwing’s age, or even Batman's to be honest, but the age gap did seem pretty big. As they went further down the hall, Clark heard Nightwing ask Robin how his conversation went.
“It was productive,” Robin said. “Father and I will be going to Superman’s mother’s farm so that she and his son can provide more instruction on caring for Bat-cow.”
Nightwing’s head whipped around to look at Batman over his shoulder. His eyes were wide, and then a gleeful smile lit up his face. Batman exhaled out of his nose and said nothing.
“Really? You don’t say!” Nightwing’s delighted sounding voice faded away as they went around a corner and disappeared from view.
Clark stood there for a few moments. So did Batman. He decided to push his luck considering the oddness of the day so far.
“So, you and Nightwing know each other well?” He asked finally.
Batman hesitated, and then sighed.
“Nightwing was my first Robin,” he responded, voice softer than normal. “A long time ago.”
Clark looked over, shocked; Batman kept his eyes trained down the hall. Clark contemplated this for a moment.
“Does that mean that Nightwing is…” He trailed off.
“Yes. Nightwing is also my son.”
Clark let out a gusty breath, and looked back the way the two dark haired figures had gone. He digested this new information, rethinking every interaction he had witnessed between Batman and their new recruit.
“I adopted him when he was nine,” Batman continued, surprising Clark. He hadn’t expected the man to give him anything more than what he already had. “His parents had just been killed in front of him. In front of both of us. He needed a home. I tried to give him that.”
Warmth filled Clark’s chest, and he stared intently at the side of Batman’s face as the man continued refusing to look at him. He didn’t think he could be fonder of him than he had been. He had been wrong.
“It seems like you did,” Clark said.
Batman made a complicated face and shook his head minutely.
“Maybe,” he replied. “I just hope I did more good than not with him. With all of my children.”
“‘All’? You…” Clark blinked at him. “How many children do you have?”
Batman gave an amused huff and finally cut a glance at Clark before looking back down the hall.
“Officially? I have five. Unofficially, I have seven.”
Clark stared incredulously. Seven? He had seven children?
“Four are adopted, one is mine by blood, one is a long-term foster placement, and the last one is…” He hesitated. “The last one dated one of my sons a while back and just never really left after they broke up. She’s very clear that she doesn’t see herself as my daughter, but she has a room at home and a place in the family that she makes frequent use of.”
“That sounds really great,” Clark told him, smiling.
“It’s usually absolute chaos,” Batman corrected. “A fair amount of them hate me half or all of the time, and most have come to blows or worse with one another more than once.”
Clark blinked.
“Well… “
“All seven did show up for family dinner the other week, though. And there was minimal shouting,” he continued.
Clark laughed. Bewildered but pleased to be learning so much about his friend.
“Is there… Do you have a… partner? Who takes care of them with you?”
“No,” Batman said. Clark held back from being visibly relieved. “I have help, but not a partner in the sense you’re implying.”
“And are all of your kids…”
“Heroes? More or less. It gets a bit… complicated for one of them.” Batman shook his head, looking troubled for a moment. “We all work together in Gotham regularly, but the ones who interact more with other heroes outside of that tend to not discuss their relationship with me much. Like Nightwing. They want to make their own names for themselves and I support that.”
“Thank you for telling me all of this, Batman,” Clark replied fondly. “I know that you value your privacy, and I appreciate you letting me know more about your family.”
Batman scoffed lightly. He gave Clark a sidelong look that made his breath catch in his throat. He had a crooked smile, and an almost playful (for him) tilt to his head.
“We’re friends, Clark.” He said. “Moreover, you just invited both myself and my often outspoken and occasionally abrasive son to your childhood home. I think I owe you a bit of reciprocal openness.”
“I don’t think Robin is abrasive,” Clark replied
Batman chuckled and Clark felt his heart race.
“Thank you. I know that he can be a bit curt and demanding to some people. He had an… unusual upbringing before he came to live with me that led to him becoming a bit… abrupt. We’re working on it, though. And he really is good with animals. He appreciates your help and the offer to visit the farm more than you realize. And thank you for offering to introduce him to Jon. He has trouble making friends his own age, but he could use them. It would be nice if the two of them got along.”
Clark felt breathless in the face of the fond and grateful tone to his friend’s voice. He smiled at him, lost.
“I hope they get along, too. Jon’s a really friendly kid, so I think it should go well. And I can tell that Robin’s a good kid under all that bluster,” he assured him.
“Tell that to Lantern,” Batman muttered back, provoking a bark of laughter out of Clark.
“Yeah. That was… He really didn’t like Hal, did he? You might get some blowback from that when you see him next,” he said.
Batman leveled him with a bland look.
“Clark. It will be a dark day if I ever find myself caring about Hal Jordan’s personal opinion of myself or my family. Even after my son insulted him to his face about his intelligence and ability to seduce women.”
Clark laughed again. See? Batman was funny. At Hal’s expense, sure, but… Hm. Maybe that was part of why Hal didn’t think he was funny.
“Let me know if your mother okays the visit, and we can coordinate a time to go,” Batman continued. “And Kal…” He turned fully to face him, and Clark’s mouth went dry at the earnest intensity of his stare. “Again. Thank you.”
“Of course,” Clark replied, pulse racing.
With that, Batman turned and strode away down the hall. Clark was left, again, to watch the black cape ripple up behind his retreating figure. He took a breath in through his nose, and out through his mouth. He didn’t really need to breathe, but his Pa had shown him how to calm his nerves back when he was young and learning to control his powers. It still worked, even without the requirement of breathing. He needed to call his Ma. He also needed to call Lois and explain that their son had a playdate with a boy who wielded a katana and owned a cow.
**
Clark was a bundle of nerves. He really shouldn’t be. He usually felt so relaxed at the farm. His Ma and the familiar surroundings had that effect on him. He also didn’t want to make Jon anxious about the day's upcoming events. He knew that he wouldn’t make his Ma anxious–she had already rolled her eyes at him and told him to put his energy towards trying to fix the old tractor that was acting up again. He also knew that Kon wouldn’t be affected by his nerves. He was more liable to make fun of him for it. Jon, though, had a habit of taking on any anxious energy the adults around him put out. He didn’t want to do that to him. He wanted him to stay excited about today.
And Jon was excited, too. He seemed thrilled at the prospect of not only meeting a hero his age, but to get to show off a bit to him about something he knew. Kon was also excited, though he tried to play it off. Clark could still tell. That was something else that had caught Clark off guard.
After confirming with Batman that his Ma had given the go-ahead, they had set a day for the next weekend. Shortly after, Batman had reached back out with another question.
“Red Robin?” Clark had asked, deeply confused. “From the Teen Titans?”
“Yes,” Batman had replied. “When he heard about the visit, and knew that Connor would be there, he more or less insisted that he join. I wanted to be sure it would be okay with you and your mother to entertain another guest.”
“Sure? I mean I’ve met him before. He’s a nice kid. Him and Kon work together with the Titans, obviously. I just don’t understand what—” he had cut off then, realizing. “Wait. Robin. Red Robin is another one of your sons.” He felt stupid for not realizing it sooner. “Did you know that two of our sons were already friends?’
“Of course,” Batman had replied, amused.
After giving the okay for the additional visitor and hanging up, he had asked Kon if he had known that his friend and teammate was related to and trained under Batman. He had received a dismissive scoff and an eye roll.
“Duh.”
Clark felt even stupider. In his defence, though he had been brimming with curiosity since their conversation, Clark had avoided trying to figure out who of the young heroes he knew might secretly be a bat. It had been a big step for Batman to open up as much as he did to Clark, and he didn’t want to push things by sticking his nose further into the situation without invitation. He had let Nightwing know about his new awareness of his and Batman’s relationship, but the young man hadn’t been too bothered.
“I figured that ship more or less sailed after you saw all of that with the Boy Wonder,” Nightwing had replied. He also seemed amused at some inside joke he appeared to have made to himself. Clark didn’t ask.
That all led to today. Jon and Kon were inside, helping Ma with something in the kitchen. Clark was out in the barn trying to fix the tractor with very little luck. He was too distracted. Batman and him had interacted somewhat socially before. It was more like casual conversations in the Watchtower, or on the roof after patrol. Occasionally even sharing takeout on those same roofs on the rare occasion that Batman could be convinced. Clark did treasure those interactions, considering how much work had gone into getting to that point with his notoriously private friend.
However, this would be the first time that they ever interacted outside of an at least vaguely work environment. Albeit, it was mostly for their children, and Batman would still be Batman, even under the bright and blue Kansas sky. Also, Clark’s mother would be there, so that would certainly put a damper on any sort of date-like atmosphere. Clark shook himself. It definitely wasn’t a date. Regardless of the children present and Ma hovering nearby. At most, this was a good step in Clark and Batman’s friendship , and he deeply appreciated that for what it was. That didn’t make him less nervous, though.
He stopped pretending to work on the tractor when his super hearing picked up the sound of Batman’s stealth plane approaching. He hurried outside to meet it as it landed near silently behind a copse of trees, hiding the plane from view from the road.
The ramp lowered slowly, and Clark tried to act normally. He could hear Kon and Jon hurrying over from the house, but kept his eyes on the entrance to the plane. To his surprise, the first person out was a dark-haired teenager in civilian clothes and absolutely no mask.
“Hello, Mr. Kent!” The boy waved at Clark with a smile.
“Hello, Timothy,” Kon called out in a teasing tone.
The boy gave him an irritated, but friendly look. Clark glanced between them, thinking about the voice he vaguely recognized.
“Red Robin,” Clark stated, reeling somewhat.
“Yup,” the boy replied. “You can call me Tim, though. Thank you for inviting us.”
Clark nodded, trying to process this all. Masks. He had expected masks. He had told Batman that it was fine. Before he could think further, another, shorter, dark-haired boy came out next. Knowing more about what to expect now, he immediately recognized the crossed arms and furrowed brow.
“Robin?” He asked.
“His name is Damian,” Tim told him. After a moment he elbowed the younger boy in the side, earning a murderous glare. Despite this, he took the hint.
“Hello, again, Mr. Kent. Thank you for having us.”
The niceties seemed very forced, and Damian’s bright green eyes avoided meeting Clark’s as he spoke. It easily came off as disrespectful, but Clark got a different impression. There was some lack of tact, there, sure, but the boy also seemed vaguely nervous. Batman had said that he had an unusual upbringing, and implied that he hadn’t spent much time around other kids his age. Clark wondered how much experience he had in casual social situations like this one at all.
“It’s nice to see you, Damian,” he replied, going for friendly and reassuring. Damian just frowned a bit more. “This is my younger son, Jon,” he went on, gently bringing Jon a bit further forward.
“Hi!” Jon waved at him with a wide smile. He didn’t seem remotely deterred by the lack of response he received.
Red Robin–Tim– Rolled his eyes at his brother’s silence and continued walking down the ramp towards them. Damian followed after a second of hesitation.
“Hello,” Damian finally responded to Jon.
He got another wave in reply. Jon still seemed completely unbothered by the stormcloud of a boy walking towards them. Clark loved his kid.
At that moment, Clark paused. He looked more closely at Damian as they approached, then at Tim. He realized that they looked familiar beyond him having met them before in costume. He recognized them from articles written by his Planet colleagues in the Business and Society departments of the paper. Tim. Timothy Drake-Wayne. And Damian Wayne. Bruce Wayne’s sons.
He looked back at the entrance of the plane, blood rushing in his ears as Bruce Wayne walked out onto the ramp. He was dressed as casually as he had ever seen Bruce Wayne dress in pictures–apart from some more… scantily dressed paparazzi photos from years back that Jimmy had teased him with when they’d first hit the web by taping them to his work computer .
The day’s warm breeze fetchingly tousled Wayne’s thick, black hair as he walked towards them. He didn’t move with the Brucie swagger Clark had seen in the news, or have the vacant but handsome smile he usually wore. He walked with a straight-shouldered focus Clark was more used to seeing under the drape of a long black cape. His attractive mouth was in a firm line that he recognized, and the dark, sharp brows were as stern as Clark had always imagined them under the cowl. His eyes though… His eyes were so much more piercing than Clark had ever guessed. He had always found Bruce Wayne’s pale gray-blue eyes beautiful, but now? As they met his own with the intensity, focus and intelligence of Batman behind them? Clark was thankful he could fly when his knees went weak.
“Bruceman. I mean Bruce. Batman,” Clark fumbled his words as the man in question came to a stop before them.
Kon snorted with laughter at his side, and Tim had a deeply amused grin. Damian was looking at him like he was an idiot, but poor Jon just looked confused by his father’s bumbled greeting.
“I told you it would be funnier if we didn’t warn him,” Kon snickered.
Clark shot him a betrayed look, and then one back to Batman, who seemed somewhat abashed, at least.
“You knew they were coming without masks?” Clark asked Kon. “You already knew their identities?”
He was embarrassed that he couldn’t fully disguise the hurt in his voice. He didn’t look back at Batman, not wanting to make it even more obvious how he was feeling. Kon scoffed.
“I had dinner at their house like three weeks ago,” he replied dismissively.
Clark’s jaw clenched and he said nothing.
“Hi!” Jon suddenly spoke up, waving at Batman. “I’m Jon! Are you Batman? Dad said Batman was coming.”
Batman smiled warmly at Clark’s youngest son and held a hand out to him like he would when meeting any adult. Jon, delighted, took the handshake. He always appreciated it when adults didn’t treat him like a kid.
“I am,” Batman said. “You can call me Bruce, though. It’s very nice to meet you, Jon, and I appreciate you agreeing to introduce us to your animals.”
Jon beamed.
“They’re Nana’s animals, really, but she lets me take care of them when I’m here,” he replied. “Come on!” he said, switching his attention to Damian with the easy distraction of his age. “We should go inside. Nana’s waiting in there.”
Jon grabbed Damian by the elbow of his folded arms and began dragging him towards the farmhouse. Damian looked affronted at having been grabbed, but let himself be pulled across the lawn.
“I want to meet the cows,” Damian told Jon as they went.
“We can!” Jon replied. “But first there’s pie inside and Nana’s pie is really good. Plus you can meet the cat! His name is Mac. Dad said you have a cat, too?”
Damian seemed placated by the promise of a cat, and pleased to be able to discuss one of his own pets.
“Yes. Alfred is a bi-color British Shorthair,” he said.
“Cool!” Jon replied, pulling Damian up the steps of the back porch. “Mac is orange.”
“You need to greet Mrs. Kent and thank her for having you!” Batman called out after them.
His tone left no room for argument, but Damian gave him a vaguely petulant lookover his shoulder anyways. Batman sighed, running a hand through his hair. He looked at his other son.
“Tim. Can you–”
The teen rolled his eyes, mouth twisting in annoyance. Bruce leveled him with a look.
“You asked to come today with the understanding that it would entail some–”
“Demon wrangling,” Tim cut in. “Yeah. I know. You’re lucky that the prospect of holding a chicken has him on his best behavior because you know that otherwise he wouldn’t even pretend to listen to me.”
He began towards the farmhouse, lightly shoving Kon as he passed him.
“Come on. Let’s go make sure that the little gremlin doesn’t act like a brat to your grandma.”
Clark watched the two boys walk away. Kon gave Tim a reciprocal shove when he caught up to him, and Tim swatted a hand out to smack him. Kon jogged ahead to dodge it with a laugh, and it was only Clark’s super hearing that meant he could hear Tim hiss the word “douche” out at his son. He decided not to address that. There was only so much one could expect when dealing with teenagers.
Batman stepped up next to him and cleared his throat. Clark turned to look, feeling unsure. Batman actually looked fairly apologetic.
“I’m beginning to realize that I shouldn’t have let a teenager’s suggestion of a humorous prank convince me of anything,” he finally said.
Clark looked away, staring back at the farmhouse for a lack of things to look at. He gave a half shrug and tried to seem unbothered.
“Don’t worry. It was funny,” he lied. “And you’re entitled to share or… Not share your secret identity with whoever you want. It’s perfectly fine”
A broad hand came to rest on his shoulder, gently pulling to encourage Clark to meet his eyes again. Batman wore a very serious expression.
“I decided a long time ago that I would trust my children to make their own judgement calls on who they wanted to share their own identities with. I had imparted the importance of caution on them enough that I would respect their decisions regarding the matter. Even if that meant that it would open up some clear avenues of conclusion about the identities of the rest of the family.”
Clark thought about this.
“So Tim decided to share his identity with Kon, as well as his relationship with you, and that meant that Kon learned about your identity as a result,” Clark clarified. “You didn’t tell him yourself.”
Batman nodded. He let a breath out through his nose and looked at the farmhouse with a clenched jaw. His hand was still on Clark’s shoulder.
“I think it’s easier for them. Being younger. Easier to open up to one another,” he said. His eyes met Clark’s again and then shifted away. “Or maybe that’s unfair. Maybe it’s more just me that has issues with being open.” He chuckled a bit, some tension easing from his face. “Actually there’s no ‘maybe’ about it. My family would all be in strong agreement about that.”
Clark chuckled back, and brought a hand up to touch the elbow of the arm Batman had resting on his shoulder. He tried not to think about how intimate it felt when Batman held his gaze again. How close they were standing.
“I understand,” Clark said. “I didn’t know your name, but I’ve known you for a long time, and I’ve known and respected the firmness of your boundaries.” He laughed. “I do have to admit that I’m glad that my son’s suggestion of teasing me managed to convince you to share this, though, Batman.”
He frowned in response to Clark’s words, and gave a small shake of his head.
“Clark. I didn’t decide to come here today without my cowl for the joke. Not giving you a heads up was the–badly thought out–joke. I had already decided to tell you who I was.”
“Oh.”
There was silence as Clark tried to figure out how to respond to that.
“You invited us–me and some of my family– to meet some of your family,” Batman continued. “All because you’re trying to encourage something that my youngest is deeply passionate about. Further, you’re one of my closest friends and I trust you. Telling you my identity should have happened a while ago, if I’m being honest. Also,” he smirked as he went on. “You can call me ‘Bruce’.”
Clark laughed back, hoping that his face wasn’t as red as it felt. His heart was pounding again, and he was grateful that Batman–Bruce– didn’t share his ability to hear it.
“Thank you. You’re one of my closest friends, too. And I’m happy to have you all here, Bruce”
The other man smiled, giving his shoulder a squeeze, and making Clark’s chest squeeze in response. It was alluringly easier to read his expressions without the cowl. Clark may have gotten fairly good at reading his stoic friend’s expression and body language with what little he could see in costume, but this was a whole new experience. It seemed to speak volumes. He could see the tiny twitch of Bruce’s eyebrows that betrayed a small chip in his unaffected seriousness. He could see those pale eyes flicker over Clark’s own face–looking between his eyes. At his brow. His mouth. He could see the barely there pinkening of skin high on his cheeks as he slipped his hand from Clark’s shoulder and turned away. Clark’s mind raced at what all of that could mean.
“We should go greet your mother,” Bruce said, beginning to head across the lawn. “I have to thank her for her generosity, and to make sure that my children are being appropriately polite.”
Clark smiled after him, feeling a warm excitement, even giddiness, filling him. He hurried to catch up before dropping back into a slower stride beside his friend. He let their arms brush and caught a minute flexing of Bruce’s hand in response, like an aborted twitch towards Clark’s own. Clark took a subtle breath in through his nose and out through his mouth, trying to calm his grin. The sunlight above his childhood home lit Bruce’s dark hair up with pale blueish-white highlights and cast fluttering shadows from his eyelashes on pale cheekbones. Clark felt the sun warm on his own face and held the feeling inside of him as they walked together.