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–––1
It begins, as many things surprisingly do, with a shaky video uploaded by the Justice League themselves. Nobody knows who recorded it (Barry. It was Barry) but its obvious when it was— A League meeting/party that happens every three weeks or so, where the League invites other (trusted) non-leaguers (mostly to keep things amicable, but it's also great for their popularity with the general public).
It starts with a blurry shot of Batman and Superman standing shoulder to shoulder. Somehow, the former is covered in shadows while the latter, who's right next to him, is shining.
Superman has the biggest shit eating grin on his face, and he's animatedly speaking to the man next to him. Batman—tall, dark and brooding Batman who just might gargle rocks every morning— is covering his mouth with a black gauntlet, and appears to be... laughing. Not that anyone can really tell (not all superheroes have x-ray vision), but using their super cool deduction skills and taking into account that his shoulders are shaking slightly as he nudges superman with an elbow gives it all away. If anything, the nudge spurs the alien on even more, and now his grin is impossibly wide, curling at the edges like a Cheshire cat.
He says something else and accompanies that by tugging on Batman's cape, who sends a half assed glare his way, but does nothing else. There's a very audible shocked gasp from behind the camera, and a small muttered 'what the—'.
Batman lowers his hand from his face and his lips moves. Whatever he said must have been hilarious since Clark doubles over. At this point, Wonder Woman, who's walked over to them, sighs while fondly rolling her eyes. She bends slightly to the bat's ears and whispers something.
Both the men straighten immediately; Batman completely serious but Kal fighting the losing battle of keeping the smile off his face, spasms and twitches raking through it.
Within half a day, the video has 10 million views.
––– 2
The fortress is warmer than usual when Bruce zeta's over with Clark after a meeting. He's currently walking next to a ranting Clark, his cowl off and Pooled around his neck.
"Funnily enough, its not even an endangered species" Clark says, "but since this one's been away from his home planet so long, he wouldn't be able to survive in its atmosphere. Not that I mind taking him in, but it's a bit sad, honestly."
"Hm" interesting. Bruce is itching at the thought of meeting this alien.
"Super cool, right? And for a presumably deathly poisonous creature, this guys real sweet!"
Bruce raises a brow. "Presumably?"
"Ah, well, they're a notoriously poisonous species. Like, the Ash'Ka'Phageous would coat their claws and weapons in these guys' goo to make them more effective. But when Curly– thats what I named him. Cute name, right?"
"Totally." Bruce nods sagely.
"I knew you'd like it. Anyways, when Curly threw up all over Lois, I thought she was gonna die. And she thought so too cause Id told her about how poisonous they were. But Kara was here, and after letting us panic for a good few minutes she finally told me that Curly was in fact not poisonous. Apparently they're only poisonous cause their main food sources are. So take them out their habitat, and they're quite harmless. Plus, if he was poisonous, Loid would've died the moment a drop touched her." Clark finishes off his rant with a small smile.
"Huh. Like the Okopipi."
"The what?"
"The blue poison dart frog." Bruce states. At Clarks blank expression he elaborates "They're only poisonous because of their diet. If you raise and breed them here, they're harmless. Though since they absorb through their skin—handling them improperly can harm them.” Bruce pauses at that . “Are you handling Curly appropriately?”
"Well, I've been touching him loads and he seems totally fine. But uhm, I'll need to look up on that. Maybe me being kryptonian makes me different."
Bruce sends him a look.
Clark swats his hand "oh, yknow what I mean."
Bruce humphs. It was kind of a bummer, he was looking forward to (gently) prodding and poking this creature. But he wouldn't take the chance if it meant he could hurt him.
"Well, here we are." Clark announces, flourishing his hands out and gesturing at Curly's enclosure. "Wanna see him up-close?"
"Is that even a question?"
Clark laughs, and moments later he's holding Curly in his arms, goop already accumulating on his suit.
Its a wet, amphibian-looking sort of thing with smooth, pink skin, antenna-y rods on its head and webbed feet.
Bruce's eyes squint. Hold on...
"Is this just a big space axolotl?"
–––
By the end of the visit, Clark is covered in translucent goop. But Bruce? Pristine.
"How did none of it get on you?" Clark whines.
The floor his caped self is standing on is all gooped. The walls too. Literally everything except the dark haired man is covered.
Bruce Shrugs. Clark can practically hear his ego growing so he does the only logical thing and surges forward, planting his grubby hands on Bruce's shoulders and smears goop all over his friend.
Bruce looks downright murderous. "My cape!" He grumbles.
Clarks grinning like the stupid man-child he is "Whoops, I slipped"
Bruce's jaw ticks. "You do know i keep a stash of krypotine in my belt, right?"
"Oh well, I'm ready to face the consequences".
(The aforementioned consequence was a strictly worded email to Mrs. Kent. Safe to say Clark wouldn't try anything like that again—Ma's reprimanding voice made him feel so extremely guilty. Whoever said Batman wasn't petty had obviously never been withing 5 feet of the guy.)
––– 3
Superman is quite up in the Watchtower. The league had just finished up one of the biggest battles of the year. A battle wherein Clark was hit with red kryptonite.
He's sitting with the others in the observation deck, silence surrounding them. The stars are twinkling beyond the glass walls.
Without thinking, his fingers find the rough edges of Bruce's cape. He rubs at it, tracing patterns into the Kevlar.
And Bruce? He's silent. He doesn't comment. And if anyone notices, they don't either.
––– 4
Sorry excuses of whispers are reverberating through the corridor.
"–you seriously think that–"
"–Well, maybe if you could just think for a single second about–'
In the kitchen/lounge, the rest of the League are doing a horrible job at pretending not to listen. Wonder Woman is all but leaning out the room, trying to hear the entire conversation.
"Maybe we should–" Everyone turns around to shush Green Arrow, some even with a finger to their lips.
"But guys–"
"Hush. They'll figure it out on their own. Us meddling wont help" Diana says from her place at the doorframe. Somehow her feet are firmly placed on the floor and yet majority of her body is out in the corridor.
"Oh, and eavesdropping will help?" He hmphs, but sits down without another word.
Back in the hallway, Bruce grumbles and raises his hands in exasperation, twisting away from Clark and beginning to walk off.
And Clark... well Clark grabs his cape and yanks him back.
"Oh Kal" Diana whispers, closing her eyes.
Bruce, not expecting anything of the sort, stumbles back and freezes on the spot. Clark drops the offended material as if it was a red sun, raising his hands in Peace.
"B– I–I didn't–"
Bruce whips around and stalks back over, closer than before. So close Clark has to lean back or they'd be brushing noses.
He mutters something, low and growled before slowly turning back and trudging out.
"You– you can't do that!" Is the last the League hears of Clark before he's chasing the seething man to the zeta tubes.
––– 5
There's another video circulating of the two men. This time, it's at the scene of a recent fight, smoke still billowing from rubble and blaring sirens in the background. Batman is standing Infront of a microphone, answering the reporters questions– mostly with humphs, yes' and no's but also, the occasional long, jargon-filled spiel.
A couple minutes in, just when Bruce begins getting twitchy, Superman– who's missing his iconic red cape– appears behind him. Without saying anything, he reaches around Batman to get to his belt, rummaging around, his tounge sticking out in concentration, before he makes a little aha sound. When he pulls his hand back, there's a lollipop in it.
The camera slowly pans, following the Blue and Red superhero as he floats over to a little boy, handing him the sweet. Through all this, Batman continues speaking. If anything, he looks a little miffed that the reporter and camera-man have stopped listening to the (self-proclaimed) important information he was spouting.
Not a minuite later, Superman returns for another two lollipops. This time around though, he lightly taps Bruce in the shoulder. "Have you got any of the purple ones left?" He asks in a low voice. Bruce reaches into another section of his belt and produces a grape flavoured lollipop, handing it over to Clark. Like before, he doesn't stop talking.
Its the moment when the interview is just about finishing up that goes the most viral though. Bruce nods a goodbye as he turns away, presumably to go help with the clean-up. He stops short though, his eyes snagging on something. The camera pans slightly, showing an approaching Superman with a questioning look in his eyes. Batman's nod is practically imperceptible.
Superman closes in, unclasping the Bats cape and moving back over to a little shivering girl, draping the thick material over her. He speaks to her in a hushed voice, a soft smile appearing on his face when she grins weakly.
When the camera pans back, Batman is gone.
––– +1
Its cold up in space. You'd think that being in a special ship, made by Waynetech of all things, would have some type of internal heating, but it was a nightmare to keep the temperatures anywhere over 8°c. Normally, Bruce wouldn't mind, what with his specially insulated Bat-suit. However the aliens the League had just punched the lights out of were quite formidable, and his suit suffered from it—mainly his cape, which had been ripped out by a rather rude ogre-looking thing. Honestly, the entire team was some level of beat up.
Hal had been encased in a box of gold and was shaken around like a pair of maracas, Clark was hit with a dozen different types of magic beams and a high dose of red-sun energy, Flash had his foot impaled and one of Hawk-Woman's wings was fractured while the other had a large gash spanning the entire thing.
This all to say that the entire team was burnt out.
Bruce had offered to stay in the cockpit first—even though there was autopilot, you can never be too safe, especially in space—while the others were spread out in the rest of the ship, im different states of unconsciousness.
Bruce shivered. It wasn't getting any warmer and his fingers were going numb. He was just about to go find someone to swap out with him when Flash entered. It was odd seeing him walk slowly, seeing as he loved to just zap to places.
"Hey B" he greeted, his voice thick with sleep. No doubt he'd just woken up.
"I've come to relive you. Shoo, off you go" he made a little shooing motion with his hand.
If Bruce wasn't so tired, he'd have been ticked off at the tone. But now, more than anything, he was just great full.
He didn't even argue.
He grunted out a thanks and slinked out the cramped space, walking out into the seating area. That's where he found Clark, sleeping on the couch with his arms crossed and his neck bent in a way that would've given him an ache if he weren't a kryptonian. But, Bruce thought, with his low energy reserves, he might just have a crick.
His bright red cape, which had somehow survived the amount of hits it'd taken, was draped over his prone form, softly rising and falling with his breaths. Damn, it looked warm.
Bruce would like to blame his headache, his tiredness and the fact he was freezing on what he did next. He gently picked up the cape and sat himself next to Clark, who was radiating heat like a furnace. Well, he did absorb the sun, so it was to be expected.
Bruce lay the cape over them, though he did hog most of it. Sue him.
He didn't have much time to be guilty or embarrassed since he slipped off into sleep within seconds.
That's where Hal found them two hours later. And in Hal fashion, he snapped dozens of pictures from as many angles as he could, snickering the whole way.
The picture circulated around the League and no matter what Bruce tried (read: threatened grievous bodily harm and burned every copy he could find), it kept appearing. At some point, much to his Chagrin and Clarks glee, he gave up and let it be. Who cared about his reputation? Not him, that's for sure.