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    Bruce stood by the kitchen island, scanning the suit schematics in front of him while listening to Alfred’s assessment on its potential performance. They still had a long way to go before finalizing the new design, but as it stands, these plans showed promise.
    As they wrapped up their conversation, they slipped into their usual routine of Alfred urging Bruce to rest and Bruce politely but thoroughly ignoring him. The back and forth continued until a gust of wind announced a very unexpected, but recognizable guest.
    “Clark.” Bruce shut his eyes, took a deep calming breath, and opened them directly into a glare at his friend. “What are you doing here?”

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    06 Sep 2024

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    Bruce grabs the wrists that are held against his chest, trying to push him off. Kal just shoves him again, his deceptive strength keeping Bruce pinned. His eyes are ablaze, brows low and angry, disapproving. He’s shorter than Bruce, dark hair blowing in the wind, but his presence is large, his power crackling under his skin. “Get off me.”

    “No.” Kal’s fingers are digging into his armor, leaving dents. “You’re reckless and stupid. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

    “And you do? How long have you even been on this planet?”

    Kal draws his hand back, and Bruce tenses, thinking this is it. They’re finally going to kick the shit out of each other, and probably break some things along the way.

    But that doesn’t happen.

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    23 Jun 2026