Work Text:
A hot, steamy shower is just what Tim Laughlin needed to kickstart his morning and get through the day—his first day at work, to be exact.
He recently got hired to work as a journalist for the State Department at Washington, D.C., and rather than being excited, he stared straight at his bare reflection in the mirror, visibly stressed while repeating some greetings for his upcoming interview with the owner of Hawkins enterprises, Mr. Hawkins Fuller.
“Hi, Mr. Hawkins Fuller. Hello, Mr. Fuller, what’s good?” Tim’s eyebrows furrowed at the sound of the cringe lines of his greetings. He was unable to think straight, and wished he could’ve bargained with the State officials to assign him to someone else much earlier instead.
It seems that he got too excited the week before, realizing that he was about to meet the man he’s been idolizing for so long, taking the job the second it was open for anyone to take. Now, he’s wallowing in the consequences of his own actions and regretting it with every breath he took that morning.
He thought to himself that he messed up big time. He was unsure of what to do, so he kept his head down, looking down at the dirty, blue sink, thinking of ways to avoid getting into that interview he dreaded.
“God, if you can hear me,” he said, his hands clasped into a position of prayer, looking up at the cross on the wall. “Please, let a crime happen. Maybe I can be busy with that instead and just avoid this mess I got myself into.” He huffed, utterly disappointed in himself that he was about to get fired on the first day.
He looked hopeless in his formal attire, with the pair of black glasses that drooped down the bridge of his nose. He had to get moving, but he deeply wished not to.
All this overthinking for minutes on end got him looking at the watch on his wrist that he fiddled with whenever he was nervous, and without realizing it, he was about to be late.
“Fuck. Fuck,” he cursed as he shot up from his bed, deciding if he should just show up as Superman after he works around his ability to fly to the place to get there faster. But of course, he had to go for the safest option.
He closed up his shoulder bag and wrapped it around himself as he ran out of the door, the floorboards creaking with every stomp he took. He was dead meat, and he didn’t know how to make up for any of this.
Tim’s huge, muscular figure brushed against the crowds that walked in every direction on the streets of the city, some of his own papers falling out of his hands and scattering around with the wind.
A few minutes of running had passed, until the out-of-breath Tim set his gaze on a crowd of people right in front of the building’s entrance. He knew it was the very man he was dreading, and he had to fix himself up to appear presentable, at the least.
“Excuse me! Ah—sorry! Pardon me!” Tim moved around the crowd, making way for him towards Hawkins Fuller, who was standing there, seemingly waiting for the reporter who was supposed to interview him. “Mr. Fuller!”
He called out to him, his heart skipping a beat as he approached the poker-faced man in a dark suit. Hawk turned his head toward the sound of Tim’s voice, a small grin creeping up his face.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Fuller!” He said enthusiastically, reaching his hand out for Hawk to respond with his own. He shook Tim’s hand, only to slowly let go of it. Tim looked down at his hand, as if the feeling of Hawk’s hand lingered on his fingertips. “So, shall we start?”
Hawk’s eyebrows were raised, indicating a moment of shock, before asking Tim. “Go ahead,” he said, not expecting such a young man with a little bit of a tall figure, look this beautiful at the first sight of him. He knew that this man was a noble boy. “Uh, hold on. I didn’t catch your name there.” He grabbed Tim’s wrist as he started to write something down in his notebook.
“Oh, yeah. I’m Timothy Laughlin, but you could call me Tim. Or Mr. Laughlin, if that’s what you prefer.” Out of sheer panic with Hawk’s sudden, firm grip on his wrist, those words came out of his mouth. He sounded so casual, he thought. It might’ve been a bad impression this early into the interview.
“Down, boy. I don’t bite.” Hawk smiled, his gaze fixated on Tim’s ear that was gradually turning red as he talked. “I believe we may begin, Mr. Laughlin.”
Tim gulped after hearing those words, trying to regain his composure and formally begin. He signaled the broadcasting members that they were ready to start with an awkward smile and a thumbs up with his sweaty, shaky hands.
“Alright, uh, Mr. Fuller.” He stammered, still nervously trembling. “I’d like to start off with—“ Tim was cut off by the sound of violent gunshots, mixed with terrified screams of people from within the building.
The crowds scattered across the street, as more and more people fled the scene, exiting the large State building. Out of sheer panic, Tim ran towards the alleyway, knowing he had to suit up and rescue people, like he usually does. Unknowingly, Hawk followed behind him, curious as to where, and why he was escaping.
Tim rapidly took off his dark plaid coat, followed by his shirt that he ripped out of its buttons to reveal a vibrant blue suit with a large, red ‘S’ imprinted on it. He heard footsteps, but brushed it off as a person running by. Hawk witnessed all of this, and couldn’t help but say something.
“So, it’s you.” Hawk uttered, with complete calmness in his words.
Tim’s eyes widened at the familiar tone of Hawk’s voice, turning around to see that it was the same figure he was about to interview a minute ago.
“Mr. Fuller—oh my God,” he quivered, knowing that his identity has now been revealed to somebody. “Look, I can explain—uh, maybe later. But please, don’t tell anybody!” His voice became high-pitched, urging Hawk to keep it between the two of them.
Hawk didn’t say anything, but reached out for his glasses and kept them in his pocket. His index finger was placed right on his lips that formed an ‘O’ with the rest of his fingers curled, a hushed gesture to indicate the security of Tim’s secret.
Hawk smirked, patting his muscular back that was wrapped in Kryptonian fabric. “Go get ‘em.” He assured the man that was now in a tight, tricolored superhero suit that was widely known to everyone in the city.
Tim smiled back at him, as he flew up into the sky with one arm up and his hand into a fist, his red cape lightly grazing the edge of Hawk’s face. He looked up at him, watching as Superman was about to save the day.
“I’ll come back for that interview, Tim.”
Tim had kept another secret that moment, knowing that he clearly heard what Hawk had mumbled to himself.
The situation at the State grew more vile, with the whole building being locked down, not letting anyone enter or exit from that point on. Tim was there, up in the air, looking for areas that might let him in. Alas, with his X-Ray vision, he found a way in through a window that was left open before the event had happened.
He lifted the window further up, looking at empty hallways with no one to be found. Some papers here and there. He heard a sound coming from one of the rooms, a terrified man’s piercing shouts. Tim feared for the worst, but had to look into it anyway.
He steadily creeped up, staying by the side of the doorframe, making sure to listen carefully to whatever was going on inside. He heard a conversation going on between two men. It was between a senator and another man. He assumed the yelling was from the senator.
“I swear,” The man sounded furious. “I’ll shoot the living guts out of you if you don’t get rid of the rumors between your son and I.” A deafening silence filled the room, and Tim was a little worried. But he heard no gunshot. All he could hear was the trembling voice of presumably, Senator Smith.
Tim was deciding to make a move, but he couldn’t alert the man too easily. He fears that he might eventually use the gun, and it would be over for Senator Smith, a death of a senator happening so suddenly.
He was about to barge into the room to interrupt the man from doing anything further, until he uttered a few more words, sounding a bit more agitated than he was a few seconds ago.
“You’re quiet? For what? God, you senators are so stupid—I never should’ve hooked up with Lenny Smith!” He clocks the gun and points it toward Smith. “You’re all fucking bastards anyway!” As he pulled the trigger, Tim flew in, saving the guy in milliseconds by dodging the bullet. It was as if he appeared out of thin air.
Time was moving slow for the two men, even though everything was happening so fast. An assassination could have taken place, but Superman was quick-witted enough to save him.
As Tim pinned Smith on the floor, the man frozen in shock, Tim slowly stood up and approached the man cautiously. He didn’t want to resort to any violence, so he tried taking another route—his ‘best’ convincing skills.
“Uh, hey.” Tim awkwardly greeted the man. The man stood there, confused, retreating as a man in a vibrant-colored suit was right in front of him. “Would you mind putting that down?” This was Tim’s attempt at being more gentle towards his enemies.
The guy laughed at Tim, mocking him as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. He didn’t know Superman, nor did he want to know him. He just knew he couldn’t die that day.
“Pfft—are you serious?” He scoffed. “Is this something you’re into, senator? Is he your assistant you hook up with at night while he’s dressed as a muscular superhero?” The man joked, causing an extreme feeling of fury within Tim. Tim was already asking nicely, but being mocked as a boy-toy of a senator was something else.
Tim felt utterly offended, quickly pinning the man against the wall with his back facing him. “You seriously think I’m the senator’s toy? Ugh!” He most definitely took it to heart. “If anything, I’m McCarthy’s assistant! Well, soon-to-be.”
The man’s face was getting crushed by Tim’s palm, squeezing him with all his might. He was at a loss of words, being pinned down by some superhero. “F-fuck! Get your hands off me!” He was squirming under Tim’s super strength, unable to do anything about it, dropping the gun.
“Wow, you’re well-behaved,” Tim exclaimed. “I’m sure the senator’s son adores you for being so submissive.” He bit his lip while the corners of his lips crept upwards. He chuckled a little, still adding a bit of humor even during a situation like this. “Hope he finds out you’re into this!”
After a while of keeping the man in his place, the police had arrived at the crime scene. Tim was in another room, with a sigh of relief, already in his change of clothes.
Tim was only there to time the arrival of the police. He made a bet with Batman a week ago that whoever gets the timing of the police right gets rewarded to a nice, fancy steak dinner afterwards. Tim knew that he won himself a steak dinner, but wasn’t exactly sure when. Oh well.
He then wondered if he was really going to continue their interview, especially now that his identity is no longer a secret to Hawk, but he sincerely promised himself to never manifest another crime in the city ever again.
Tim walked home after realizing that he wouldn’t be able to work that day, since the State is in a state of destruction. He didn’t mind, because it meant having a day all to himself.
He walked down the street with a pep in his step, touching his face to adjust his glasses, discovering that they weren’t on his face. He held his face while he thought to himself where they could’ve gone, until a voice he had just heard earlier that day chirped.
“Looking for these?” Hawk grinned, flaunting the same pair of glasses Tim had worn to work.
Tim slouched and sighed, having to deal with Hawk again, even when he thought he would’ve avoided him until their next meeting. Turns out, it was already that moment when they would meet again.
He extends his hand right towards Hawk’s, and politely asks for his glasses. “Could I have them back, Mr. Fuller?” Hawk’s cheeky smile never leaves his face, and he keeps Tim hanging. He wants something from him in return.
“Got a pen and paper?” Hawk pulls his hand away, bringing the glasses to his mouth and biting on one end, leaving it hanging from his mouth while Tim lends him a pen and a piece of paper from his notebook.
Hawk scribbled in a sharp motion, and Tim was in awe. He’s never seen someone write so pleasantly before. Although it did look oddly familiar to him, reminding him of a certain someone he knew. He brushed that idea off, because he knew well that the man standing before him could never be the same Batman who is against him.
With the click of the pen, Hawk had finished writing down a note for Tim, grabbing the glasses from his mouth and placing all the borrowed items into the palm of his hand. Tim blinked once and his eyes followed Hawk’s eyebrows, which were raised in indication that they were for Tim.
Tim’s hand curled into a fist, hesitating at first, then reaching out for Hawk’s hand. He felt a lot of tension just from the touch of their hands and he couldn’t help but let go so gently, the same way Hawk did with their handshake.
They both maintained eye contact with each other for a few seconds until Tim realized he was staring at him. “Oh, uh, thank you.” Tim slightly nodded his head in response to Hawk.
“Aren’t you gonna read it?” Hawk’s head slightly tilted to the side, curious with the dumbfounded, flustered man in front of him. Tim’s eyes widened and immediately looked down, unfolding the paper, revealing a message from Hawk, saying:
Meet me tonight, 8 o'clock sharp. My treat.
You know where to go. Don’t be late, Skippy.
Tim couldn’t take his eyes off the note, realizing that the man really wasn’t just the billionaire owner of a renowned company, but was the same guy he fooled around with during their missions. He called him by the nickname Batman would always call him as Superman.
Hawk patted Tim’s back again, now wrapped in his plaid coat. His hand slid down his shoulder and past his forearm as the pads of their fingertips touched. Tim looked up at him as they locked eyes, Hawk walking away and turning his head from Tim.
For the first time, ever since Tim came to earth, Hawk was inviting him to his bat cave. Tim froze on the spot, but he knew that he felt Hawk’s heartbeats, paced the same as his own.
Who knew their first time meeting would have so much tension, but who would’ve also known that it wasn’t their first?
At seven in the evening, Tim found himself in front of his bathroom mirror, yet again.
This time, his stature bore a confident look compared to his slouched, worrisome appearance this morning. He wore a suit that fit perfectly around his toned body, except for the tie he was adjusting that he felt was choking him in the slightest.
Though he let out a deep exhale that was indicative of his anxiety. It was, indeed, his first time coming to such a private place.
He slumped over his desk while looking over at the telephone, wondering if he should just contact Hawk to let him know that he’s changed his mind, but Hawk knew damn well that his Skippy wouldn’t do such a thing. Tim knew that himself, too.
Nonetheless, it would still be an experience that only he gets to have. No one has ever been to the bat cave, so personally being invited by the man himself worked wonders on Tim’s brain.
“Should I keep the glasses—yeah, no.” Tim was overthinking even the simplest things, knowing that Hawk would have wanted him to wear his best look as much as possible. This was their moment, and he made sure that it would be a memorable one.
He reached for the pocket inside his coat to look at the note Hawk gave him to admire his handwriting. It’s as gorgeous as the man who wrote and handed it to him, he thought.
Tim turned it around to the other side and realized it said something else.
P.S. The glasses stay on.
He sighed, immediately opening the drawer in his desk to get the case where his glasses were kept. He knew Hawk would be persistent to see Tim in that funky pair of specs that he’s been using ever since he started looking for a job. He thought they looked professional.
He suddenly heard the screeching tires of a car against the cement road that was parked just by the street of his apartment building. It seemed like the oddly familiar batmobile that he’d seen Batman drive a few times before. Today is one of those times.
Tim gave a final look at himself in the mirror before rushing out the door, opening it to Hawk. They were standing in front of each other, faces close to the other.
Tim slightly moved to the side to let Hawk in. “What are you doing here?” He asked, a little embarrassed with his messy apartment room that he hadn’t cleaned in so long, that some of his things have accumulated dust already. “Sorry, it’s…”
“Shall I get Albert in here?” He asked so straightforwardly, rubbing his finger on one of the dusty tables and feeling the dust between his fingertips. “I suggest staying at my place while he deep cleans this place. Maybe for one or two days.”
Tim’s imagination went wild, even when it was just a simple invitation to his humble abode. He was flustered, accidentally closing the door behind him and slamming it so loud that Hawk turned around in an alert motion.
Hawk was in the middle of circling around the room when Tim closed the door. He assumed Tim was trying to make a move, but Hawk decided to get to him first.
He walked towards Tim, still standing by the door, slowly retreating backwards while Hawk seems to be cornering him. “Hawk—“
“Would you like me to kiss you?” Tim is cut off by Hawk’s ulterior motive of entering his apartment, revealed through his lustful words.
“No, Mr. Fuller.” Tim responded, looking side to side, avoiding Hawk’s eye contact, despite being a few inches shorter than Tim. He seemed more in the dominant side compared to the man who towered him.
Hawk cupped his hand on Tim’s face, which was warmer compared to Hawk’s palm. He brought his face to Tim’s, slightly tilted to the side, giving the backside of his hand a peck with his lips.
Tim freaked out, Hawk’s hand sliding off his stubbly chin. Hawk’s face flashed a smile in absolute adoration for the man that got so flustered over an indirect kiss.
“Shall we?” His hand slid past Tim’s waist, reaching out for the doorknob behind him. Tim slightly flinched, but he smiled back and Hawk, his gaze never leaving Hawk’s.
“I’d like that.”
It was going to be a long, exciting night for the two of them. They knew each other more than they expect, and future missions together were going to have much more tension.
But the two did, indeed, love each other more than they realize.