Chapter Text
The only reason Bruce was up this early on a goddamn Saturday was because of the beautiful being floating in front of him right now. The sun was shining over the master bedroom's balcony in a way he'd consider indecent and Clark would call wonderful.
"Hrngh," Bruce muttered as Clark swirled into the Superman-uniform in front of him.
"Eloquent as usual, dear," Clark laughed, leaning in for a quick kiss.
"If it wasn't for you, I'd be asleep right now," Bruce groused, but allowed Clark to pull him closer. He wasn't really mad, of course. He hadn't been out too late for this exact reason: being able to see Clark off. Morning kisses when he wasn't quite awake yet and Clark was the warmest thing in the room were his favorite.
"I doubt it. The moment I get out of bed, you're up and about too."
Bruce's one hand trailed up Clark's arm to wrap around the back of his neck. "Mm. Don't like it when you're not in bed with me."
Clark chuckled, and pressed another kiss on his lips, this one lingering for a bit too long. Bruce cupped his cheek, making him come back for more. After a a few kisses, Clark reluctantly pulled away. "Okay, now I'm seriously late."
"Lois will understand," Bruce breathed as he pulled him back in, considering how to make Clark stay for a few more moments, maybe just enough for a quickie? He could do a quickie, if Clark would just-
"Oh god, she really wouldn't. Mm, don't do that, you know I'm powerless when it comes to you," he sighed and pulled away again, taking a step back. Clark's breath was coming a little faster now, and he shook his head, smoothing his hair back except for the spit-curl.
"That's cheesy," Bruce pointed out, tucking the edges of his bathrobe tighter around himself.
"You're better than kryptonite, baby," Clark said, touching a hand to his heart and laughing when his partner swatted after him.
"Don't even joke about that. Get out of here," Bruce muttered, and Clark stole one last kiss before he was off, disappearing off into the sky. Bruce watched his flying form for as long as he could, until he heard the echoes of the sound barrier breaking. He stepped back into the room, and began the trek down to the kitchen.
"Good morning," Bruce said as he walked into the manor kitchen, seeing Tim sitting with his phone by the kitchen island. Damian probably wasn't up yet, he had yet to see Dick, and God knows if Tim had even gone to sleep in the first place. The way he picked his coffee up, with a steady hand, made Bruce exhale in relief. Tim was always a little jittery when he hadn't slept, and the coffee usually only enhanced that. That steady hand told him Tim had had at least four hours of sleep. With that calming thought in mind, he made a beeline for the teapot standing on the stove.
"Just leave me alone to die!" Dick cried out from behind the kitchen island. Bruce stopped in his tracks, and looked to his other son for guidance.
"We're out of cereal," the teenager said without looking up from his phone. Bruce crouched down next to Dick, who was sprawled out on the floor wearing only a t-shirt, boxers too big for him, and one sock. When Bruce reached out to touch his shaking shoulders, Dick made a sound like a muffled sob into the tile-floor.
"Dick, when did you last sleep?" Bruce asked patiently. He knew this specific tantrum very well.
"Dunno. Maybe two days ago," he mumbled, snuffling.
If Bruce had to guess, he'd say four days, maybe five. Dick was either lying or he'd lost a few days, but Bruce doubted he'd be this mentally and physically exhausted from just two days of no sleep. Maybe he was taking on too much at the police station? Bruce would have to see about reorganizing Dick's schedule. He could probably use some more down-time at the manor. Dick liked being with family, found it relaxing. Probably found it relaxing to not have to clean or cook, too.
Bruce frowned. "Go to bed."
"'M not tired." Bruce met eyes with Tim over the counter, and the teenager quickly looked back at his phone. Well, he was definitely not getting any help from there, then.
"Up." Dick groaned, but rolled onto his back, and let himself be pulled to his feet. "Go to bed. Take a nap, at the very least."
"I'm just disappointed we don't have cereal!" Dick said and rubbed his eyes. Bruce could honestly not tell if it was to stave off tears or because he was tired, which was alarming to say the least. He resigned himself to putting Dick in a fireman's carry and putting him to bed.
"Alright, am I going to have to carry you?"
"No," Dick pouted, crossing his arms. When he didn't move, Bruce raised his eyebrows at him. "I just want some cereal, alright? That's all."
Before Dick could react, Bruce had swept him up onto his shoulders like he used to when he was much smaller and much easier to just pick up and throw. His back protested dully, but if it couldn't take dragging his 24-year-old to bed, how was it supposed to handle pulling people from burning buildings?
Dick squawked indignantly at him, and Tim looked up from his phone again, but only to snap a picture of the two of them.
"If I see that on any social media or any chat of yours with any of the Titans, I'm grounding you," Bruce called as he made his way into the hallway, heading towards the bedrooms.
"I'm eighteen!" Tim shouted back.
"That was your first warning, and there won't be a second!"
He arrived in front of Dick's door, and kicked it open, gently depositing Dick on the bed and tugging the covers up over him. When he was sure Dick wasn't going to roll off the bed, Bruce pulled the drapes closed, shrouding the room in darkness. On the bed, Dick groaned heartily and burrowed further into the sheets.
Bruce walked around the bed, and grabbed Dick's comm and cellphone off the nightstand. When his son was too busy rubbing his face against the pillows like a pleased cat to notice, he slid the devices into his bathrobe's pocket. He sat down on the edge of the bed, tucking the covers up higher under Dick's chin. He tended to run hot and kick the sheets off in the middle of the night, but he liked being wrapped up in blankets when he was falling asleep. Bruce had learned that back in their early days as Batman and Robin, when Dick had spent a lot of scared nights in his new guardian's bed.
Dick sighed happily, shifting under the covers until he was comfortable. "Thanks, dad."
Bruce found himself smiling, and he reached out to brush a thumb over Dick's eyebrow, like he used to, back in the early days. Sometimes, when Clark would nudge him on accident in the middle of the night, apparently Bruce would wake up just enough to tell Clark 'I'm here, Dick' and then fall right back asleep. It was second nature, after all these years. "Sleep tight, son. I'll have Alfred check on you in a few hours."
"Mmmf," Dick agreed. Bruce huffed out a laugh at the way Dick's nose disappeared under the covers too, the only part of him peeking out being his tousled hair and eyebrows. On his way out, Bruce closed the door, privately shaking his head at his kids and their quirks.
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