Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In the quiet stillness of the night, Clark took extra care in ensuring his steps were silent as he sneaked down to the kitchen for a midnight snack. In the spirit of the season, he decided to watch a horror movie earlier that Jimmy had recommended to him; unfortunately, Clark was relatively easy to scare, and despite the plot holes and cheap special effects, it left him a little unnerved. After lying in bed for hours too terrified to sleep, he figured a little treat would give him the mental break he needed to relax. But as soon as he made it downstairs and into the kitchen, he was startled by the sudden presence of a shadowy figure joining him in the room.

“Hey,” Bruce casually greeted Clark as he flipped on the pantry light. He noted that Clark looked a little paler than usual, but said nothing.

“Oh—hey Bruce!” Clark replied a little too loudly, taking a deep breath and regaining his composure before walking over to the kitchen island and leaning against it, “You also here for a little late night snack?”

Bruce nodded, pulling a couple of applesauce pouches from the pantry and bringing one over to Clark. “I don't think I ate this much applesauce before adopting Dick,” he stated as he stood at the opposite end of the kitchen island, content and quiet but not as sleepy or weary as Clark seemed to be.

“Yeah, he's certainly changed my life a lot, too,” Clark noted as he twisted the cap off, “Like, I didn't used to be this into Halloween, but Dick’s interest in it has me excited for it, too. His favorite game right now is playing ‘trick-or-treat’, but it's basically just me spending ten minutes listing all the different types of candy I’d give him.”

“Has he decided on a costume yet?” Bruce asked him before taking a sip of his applesauce.

Clark sighed. “Well, he wanted to be Superman, so I made him a Superman costume…” he began, a somewhat frustrated expression making its way onto his face, “...but now he also wants to be a zombie, so I guess he'll be going as zombie Superman? I’ll have to practice the makeup before then, but at least he's excited.”

A soft smile grew on Bruce's face, the look in his eyes suggesting his mind was somewhere far away from the present. “I remember liking Halloween a lot when I was his age,” he quietly remarked.

Clark smiled back at him. “Yeah? What was your favorite costume?”

“Zorro,” Bruce replied, the smile on his face growing wider for a moment, “My mother made the entire ensemble for me—had the mask and everything. Made me feel like a hero.” 

Clark watched as Bruce’s smile slowly faded, his attention suddenly returning to the present as the two of them sat together in the calm darkness of the kitchen. It was another one of those moments in which he witnessed a more personal side of Bruce, a relatively common experience for him now as the two had become much closer over the last month. “That sounds like a really cool costume,” Clark acknowledged, “I can't say that I really loved any of my costumes as a kid; Ma always made me wear a coat over them to trick-or-treat since it got so chilly at night. My favorite part of Halloween as a kid was always the candy.”

“I didn't know you had such a sweet tooth,” Bruce commented as he took Clark's empty applesauce container from him and tossed it into the trash.

Clark chuckled a little. “During Halloween season, they'd always release these orange Kit-Kat bars,” he explained, “They were my favorite , but they stopped making them a few years back. Of course, they were just the white chocolate ones with orange dye, but something about them just tasted different. I'm still mad they were discontinued.”

Seeing that they were both finished with their snacks, Bruce flipped off the pantry light, the kitchen now only illuminated by a couple of night lights plugged into the wall outlets. Clark took this as a sign that their conversation was over, but then watched Bruce pull a bar stool over to the kitchen island, taking a seat next to where Clark was leaning into it. Bruce was a busy man—was he really choosing to spend his time chatting away with Clark in the middle of the night?

“Speaking of Halloween…” Bruce began, failing to hide the dread in his voice, “...it seems I got roped into hosting a costume party that night.”

“Oh, really?” Clark asked in surprise. Despite the image the media had pushed about him, Bruce didn't exactly seem like a party person. “Here at the house?”

Bruce placed his arm up on the island and rested his head in his palm, a somewhat disgruntled expression on his face. “Sort of; I was pretty clear about wanting to keep the house quiet and safe for Dick,” he sighed, “So it'll be outside in the garden. I'll have a big tent put up, there’ll be music, food—you know, things like that. I just wanted to warn you in advance so you could prepare, it’ll probably get a little rowdy.”

“I see,” Clark responded, “I guess it's no big deal, I can get some earplugs or something and hunker down in my room.”

Bruce's sharp hazel eyes locked onto Clark's. “I think you misunderstood me,” Bruce quickly stopped him, “I was hoping you’d come to the party.”

“Me?” Clark asked him in disbelief, “Oh—uh, I don't know if I'd fit in with your friends—”

“Well, you're more than welcome to invite your friends if you want,” Bruce interjected, a persuasive smile on his face, “Most of the guests coming to the party aren't people I know very well, just friends of a friend. That’s why I want you there.”

Clark paused for a moment, trying to decode the indirect way in which Bruce often spoke to figure out his true intentions. A silly smile grew on his face once he did. “Aw, Bruce—is that your way of saying I'm your friend?” Clark smirked as he shoved Bruce playfully, “Admit it: you like me. We’re friends!”

Bruce quickly stood up from his chair, “I have work to do and you're distracting me,” he replied coldly as he began to walk out of the room, trying to hide his smile, “You should go back to bed.” 

“Goodnight bestie !” Clark jokingly barked at him as he watched Bruce leave the kitchen, “I'll miss you!”

He could hear Bruce snickering as he walked away, knowing his taunts had amused him like he'd intended. Clark made his way back to his own room, climbing back into bed with a smile, successfully distracting himself from the horror movie that scared him earlier and quickly drifting off to sleep.

…

As the sun began to set on Halloween evening, Clark anxiously looked down at his phone every few seconds, anticipating a text from Lois or Jimmy that the two of them were on their way. He was glad to be able to share the perks of his new job with them and get them into an exclusive party at Wayne Manor. Despite the rather normal state of the house from inside, its exterior was brimming with activity. Event planners, caterers, entertainers and more shuffled around the estate and to the back where a large party tent set the stage for the night's activities. A few guests began to trickle in too as the party was set to start at dusk, and Clark was eager to see his friends after over a month away from them. 

“When do we get to go trick-or-treating?” Dick groaned, pulling on Clark's pants in anticipation, “I'm bored.”

“You're not bored…” Clark excitedly beamed as he picked up Dick and held him over his head, “...you're Superman! Up, up and away!”

Dick laughed as Clark ran around the foyer with him raised up in the air. “Yeah! Zombie Superman to the rescue!”

Dick's laugh never failed to put a smile on Clark's face. It was a nice distraction from the rest of the evening’s festivities. As he began to set him back down on the ground, he caught a glimpse of Bruce standing off to the side and watching the two of them with an amused grin.

“You must be really strong to be able to hold him over your head like that,” Bruce told Clark as he approached the two of them, then turned his attention towards Dick, “Are you ready to go trick-or-treating? The sun's almost down.”

Dick nearly bounced off the walls in excitement. “Yeah! Let's go!”

“Hold on,” Clark stopped them, looking Bruce up and down judgmentally, “Where's your costume?”

Bruce shrugged. “Costumes aren't really my thing,” he replied, “I'll just wear this.” He was dressed in an all-black suit, perfectly tailored to his body, and a matching black shirt and tie underneath. His hair was nearly combed back and away from his face, and the faint scent of expensive cologne lingered on his skin. Bruce thought the all-black ensemble was festive enough for the occasion, but Clark was disappointed to learn Bruce wouldn't be wearing a costume to his own costume party.

“Seriously?” Clark commented, a playful smile on his face, “I have to show up to your party in rags and zombie makeup, and you get to look like that ?”

“Guess I was too smart to fall victim to the zombie apocalypse,” Bruce snarkily replied.

“Not for long…” Clark began, placing a hand on Dick's shoulder and pointing towards Bruce, “...get him, Zombie Superman!”

Dick happily chased Bruce around the room, trying to “bite” him and turn him into a zombie like him and Clark. Bruce narrowly evaded each of his attempts, carefully maneuvering around the furniture to prevent Dick from capturing him. Clark was glad he could bring the two of them together like this; Bruce was pretty busy, and he was happy to see Dick spending more quality time with him.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred interjected, a bit disappointed to be interrupting their moment, “I'm sorry to stop you, but they're all asking for you outside. If you don't go out there now, I'm afraid they'll all start flooding in here to find you, and then it’ll be impossible to get everyone back outside.”

Clark could see the energy and glee in Bruce's face fade in an instant, the dread of his obligations as the host creeping back in. Even worse, he knew Dick would be disappointed Bruce couldn't join them for trick-or-treating. 

Bruce knelt down, gently holding Dick’s hands in his. “Listen kid, it's going to be just you and Clark for trick-or-treat, okay?” he softly told him, “I have to stay here and take care of something.”

Dick solemnly nodded, looking down at the ground in defeat and saying nothing.

“I’m sorry I can't come with you,” Bruce continued as he stood up and patted him on the head, “I can't wait for you to show me all the candy you collected tomorrow morning.”

With that, Bruce turned away and swiftly left towards the party, hoping to satisfy his guests’ wishes for his presence and keep the party contained outside. The last thing he wanted was inconsiderate guests snooping through the manor while Dick was trying to sleep.

Before he could ruminate on Bruce’s abrupt exit, Clark was quickly distracted by the buzz of his phone, looking down to see a text from his friends informing him they'd arrived. He eagerly looked down to Dick, a hopeful expression in his eyes, “I know Bruce can't come with us, but do you want to meet my best friends? They’ll come trick-or-treating with us if you want!”

Dick nodded, the excitement for Halloween that had been crushed moments before slowly returning to him as he and Clark headed outside.

“Oh my god—he wasn't lying,” Jimmy gasped as Clark greeted him and Lois in the front yard, “There's really a party happening here tonight, and Clark's here to get us in. I can't believe we're actually at Bruce Wayne's party!”

Lois gave Jimmy a playful shove. “Get over yourself,” she jested, “You haven't seen your best friend in over a month and all you can focus on is the party?”

“It's nice to see you guys, too,” Clark chuckled, a warm smile on his face as each of his friends hugged him. He blushed a little when Lois made eye contact; she was oddly alluring in her witch costume, a long black dress falling gracefully over her tall, slender frame and soft brunette locks of hair peeking out underneath her tall witch’s hat. Thankfully Jimmy's costume had snapped him out of it pretty quickly; his hair was teased up to look like the bad boy in every teen vampire show, complete with some smoky black eyeliner peeking out from his waterline. “Interesting how we all ended up dressing like classic Halloween monsters,” Clark noted.

“Except me!” Dick shouted, still holding onto Clark's hand but becoming increasingly impatient, “Superman's not a monster.”

Clark quickly knelt down and looked back at him with a smile. “You make a great point, kid,” he told him, then gestured over to his friends, “This is Lois and Jimmy. They're two of my closest friends, and I promise they're really nice. Is it alright if they join us for trick-or-treat?”

“Oh my gosh, trick-or-treating?! That sounds like so much fun!” Jimmy quickly added, shooting a confident smile over to Dick.

“We’d love to come with you!” Lois excitedly told him.

Dick was thrilled that Clark's friends were so interested in spending time with him, and their excitement was contagious. He happily agreed to let them join, his confidence returning to him as the four of them set off around the neighborhood, Lois and Jimmy making jokes and keeping him entertained all along the way. Bristol Township—the wealthy suburb that Wayne Manor was situated in—was filled with homes eager to give away candy to each spirited little child. With all he’d heard about crime rates in Gotham, Clark was grateful that Bruce’s neighborhood was relatively safe and inviting. It made for an unforgettable Halloween night for Dick, whose bag was so full of treats that it was almost too heavy to carry by the end.

When they arrived back at Wayne Manor, Clark encouraged Lois and Jimmy to head over to the party out back while he helped Dick with his bedtime routine. As much as he wanted to cut loose with his friends, he also wanted Dick to be safe and secure in his bed after all the excitement from the day. Even as Alfred came in to take over for the evening, Clark felt a little bad that Dick’s holiday had been overshadowed by the obnoxious party outside. He wondered if parties like this would be a common occurrence in Dick’s life, or if Bruce would soon realize how incompatible they were with his desire to be a better father.

Clark quickly forgot those worries as he walked into the party, dazzled by the lights, music, and overall ambience of the scene. In the center of the tented space was a dancefloor, where guests boisterously danced the night away to the beat of a talented DJ. Along one wall of the tent was the snack table filled with all sorts of decadent Halloween-themed treats designed by Gotham’s top caterers and chefs, complete with a punch bowl that had definitely been spiked. The rest of the tent was filled with seating space for the guests, several of Gotham’s elite ostentatiously chatting each other up just to hear the sound of their own voices. Clark found it hard to believe that he was in the backyard of Wayne Manor and not an exclusive club in downtown Metropolis.

As he searched the crowd for Jimmy and Lois, Clark stumbled upon a large group forming a circle around a couple and hanging on to each word that was said. When he pushed through, his eyes widened as he saw Bruce standing there with an arrogant smile, his arm wrapped around Veronica’s waist as she paraded him around to her friends. After a few seconds Clark realized she was his girlfriend, and was speechless. Why had Bruce never mentioned her before?

“Oh my God,” Veronica suddenly stopped, looking Clark directly in the eyes and becoming captivated by him, “Who is this diva? I’m literally so in love with your costume!”

Clark quickly shook off his surprise. “Haha—me? Thanks!” he awkwardly chuckled, “Believe it or not, I’m actually the nanny—”

“Stop! ” Veronica gasped in disbelief, quickly looking over to Bruce and playfully tugging on his arm, “Brucie! Why didn’t you tell me your nanny was so hot?”

As Bruce glanced over to him, Clark noticed there was something off about him. The quiet and serious Bruce Wayne he knew was replaced with someone sloppier and sillier. His tie was undone, a few buttons on his shirt loosened, and his hair now a little tussled as he stood there with a smirk. “What do you mean, Ronnie?” he laughed, turning back towards her with a flirtatious smile, “I swear that’s all I ever talk about—that and you!”

Lies. Both of those things were lies—Clark had never heard Bruce talk about Veronica even once, and he’d certainly never heard him brag to anyone else about his looks, either. Even the sound of Bruce’s voice was completely different; Clark even wondered if he’d been replaced by some kind of imposter. “Right…” Clark mumbled, a little unsettled by the whole thing, “If you’ll excuse me, I’m looking for someone.”

He quickly turned around and shoved his way back through the crowd to the back wall, leaning against a table and taking a breather as he tried to piece together what he’d just witnessed. Why was Bruce acting like a completely different person? Was—as Veronica called him, “Brucie”—just a front for his friends? Or was the person Bruce was when he was with Clark just a front all along? Clark took a few steps towards the punch bowl, pouring himself a cup and taking a large gulp. “Vodka,” Clark whispered as he glanced down at the cup, “I wish it actually did something to me.”

Clark then wondered why he was so desperate to numb his feelings. He felt like Bruce had betrayed him. Even after he’d calmed down and accepted that Bruce was likely putting on a performance for his friends, it still wasn’t enough to settle his nerves. He thought about Veronica’s reaction, Bruce’s snarky remark back to her as her hands were all over him. True, Bruce never explicitly stated his relationship status—but why did finding out he was with Veronica feel so devastating? “Is this jealousy?” Clark asked himself, wondering if he was worried Veronica would get in the way of their growing friendship. Clark did really want to be friends with Bruce—to get close to him, to learn everything there was to know about him. He knew he’d have less time to do so if Veronica was in the way. And was Bruce's failure to tell him about her proof that he and Bruce weren't as close as he thought they were?

“There you are, Clark!” Lois beamed as she approached him, “Of course you’re standing back here like a wallflower.”

Clark looked down to Lois; it was a relief seeing her face. She was a reminder that there was still a life outside of Wayne Manor, away from any of the woes Bruce put him through. “Yeah, well you know me…” Clark replied with a shy smile, “...are you having fun?”

“This is a great party,” Lois remarked, taking another look over the room as she spoke, “Jimmy’s been chatting up all these rich girls—apparently they’re charmed by anyone with even an ounce of substance.” She paused for a moment, then looked up to him with an anxious smile. “You know, you still owe me a date. This doesn’t count.”

Clark sighed, setting his drink down on the table and gently grabbing her hand. “Well, I hope an invite to this party makes up for how I’ve dropped the ball,” he began, a sympathetic expression on his face, “I’ve just been really busy, but I promise I’ll take you out on a real date soon.”

Suddenly the lights shifted a bit lower, the DJ shifting the music to a slower rhythm. With Clark’s hand still holding hers, she pulled him to the dancefloor with a smile. “How about a dance in the meantime?”

As the two of them swayed to the music together, Bruce looked around the room for Clark, hoping to get a word in with him after he abruptly left their last encounter. When he finally caught a glimpse of him in Lois’ arms, something in his demeanor shifted. His piercing gaze was locked on the two of them, and for a moment he broke out of his playboy persona, standing there in silence as he realized Clark had already forgotten about him. 

Even Veronica noticed the sudden shift in his attitude. “You okay?” she said as she tugged at his sleeve, oblivious to what he was staring at and why it had affected him in such a way. He quickly snapped out of it.

A little after midnight, the party had thinned out, and Clark walked Jimmy and Lois back towards the tent’s entrance as the festivities began to wind down. Despite the fun they’d had, they were desperate for a little rest before returning to Metropolis the next day, and were eager to get back to their hotel room. “Maybe we could all meet up for coffee tomorrow morning before you head back? I can probably get you guys a ride to the train station, too,” Clark offered.

“That sounds good to me,” Jimmy wearily replied. He’d had a little too much punch. Lois nodded in agreement and helped him walk back to their ride, Clark waving goodbye to the both of them as they quietly left. It was nice to know he’d be seeing them again so soon.

As he watched them leave, Clark realized Lois had come in with a jacket but was leaving without it. It was a cold night, and she’d probably want it for the next morning, too. He turned around and swiftly retraced their steps, scanning each corner of the room in hopes he could return it to her before she and Jimmy left the estate altogether. As he did so, he suddenly spotted Bruce, and immediately afterwards, Veronica. They were pressed up against each other in a dark corner, their hands running down each other’s bodies as they locked lips. Something about that sight made Clark’s stomach twist. He felt shocked, disgusted, and disappointed all at once. He didn’t know why, and he didn’t care enough to stand there and figure out why. He quickly averted his gaze, trying to force that image out of his head and remember what he was doing in the first place. Eventually he gave up, leaving the party and returning to the main house to get ready for bed.

After turning on the shower, Clark quickly took his costume off and tossed it in the clothes basket, looking over his zombie makeup in the lighted mirror above his sink. Veronica’s words echoed in his mind—the sound of her calling him “hot” as he stared at the layers of grease paint on his face. “Was she making fun of me?” he wondered, taking a wet cloth and wiping it off, “Was that what Bruce was doing, too?” He turned back towards the shower and hopped in, letting the sound of the rushing water and the hot steam around him drown out any thoughts of Bruce and Veronica.

Finally he’d decompressed from it all, taking a deep breath and pulling the blankets back on his bed to get in. He hesitated there, something within his gut telling him to check on Dick one last time before getting some sleep himself. He thought about the fun he’d had with Dick, Lois, and Jimmy while out trick-or-treating—it was a shame Bruce had to miss that. He set his phone down and slowly walked over to Dick’s room, careful to not wake him as it was now quite late.

But when he entered, he was surprised to see Bruce already sitting there at Dick’s bedside in the darkness, carefully watching him as he slept peacefully under the covers. Clark remained in the doorway for a second, then closed it and walked over to Bruce, taking a seat next to him. “So you came to check on him too?” he asked in a low voice.

“I can’t believe I missed out on this tonight…” Bruce solemnly responded, “...I should have been there for trick-or-treat. I would’ve been if not for the party.”

Clark wholeheartedly agreed with him. “Maybe you need new friends.”

Bruce was a little taken aback by Clark’s response. It was the first time Clark didn’t just stand by and validate him, but instead said something critical. He’d feel a little hurt if it weren’t so true. Unfortunately for Bruce, one of the consequences of having Clark as a friend now meant that he’d hold him accountable for his mistakes. He didn’t acknowledge Clark’s suggestion, but nevertheless still considered it. The two of them ensured Dick was properly tucked in, then quietly left his room, resuming their conversation out in the hall.

“Speaking of friends…” Bruce said as he changed the subject, “...who was that girl you invited tonight? I don’t think I caught her name.”

“Oh, that’s Lois,” Clark replied, astonished Bruce had even noticed her when he hardly seemed to pay any attention to Clark at the party, “She works with me at The Planet . She’s one of my friends.”

“Just your friend?” Bruce inquired, walking over to the closet at the end of the hall.

“Well—uh…” Clark faltered, a little caught off guard by Bruce’s question, “...she wants me to take her out on a date, I just haven’t gotten around to it yet, I guess.”

“I’ll give you some time to do so, then,” Bruce replied matter of factly, pulling Lois’ jacket from the closet and handing it to Clark, “And make sure you give this back to her when you do. Seems she accidentally left her jacket here.”

As he took the jacket from Bruce, Clark wondered how Bruce had even noticed it was missing and retrieved it when he seemed so out of sorts at the party. Before he could say anything, Bruce was already reaching back into the closet for more.

“One other thing,” he began, pulling a bag of candy out and handing it to Clark, “The manufacturer works with Wayne Industries, so I called in a few favors and got you these.”

Clark was stunned as he looked down at the bag. It was full of the limited edition orange Kit-Kat bars that had been discontinued years before, but the date on the bag was new. Bruce really did get a batch made just for him. He looked back up to Bruce, a conflicting mix of feelings swirling within him. “You know, you’re very thoughtful…” Clark began, “...and you continue to surprise me every day. I wish other people got to see this side of you. I think if they did, your reputation wouldn’t be what it is.”

Bruce took a step towards him, locked on his crystal blue eyes staring back at him in uncertainty. “Who I am when I’m with you…” he maintained, his voice soft yet serious as Clark confronted him in the darkness, “...is unlike anything I’ve ever been before. Maybe one day, I’ll learn to be this way without you, too.”

His words caused Clark to become even more unsure of his feelings. The hope that he’d one day become close friends with Bruce returned to him tenfold, along with the jealousy he felt when thinking of Veronica. It was all too new and confusing to make sense of, and nearly overwhelmed him. But at the very least, Clark knew that Bruce didn’t look down on him the way he’d worried about before. “I see,” he responded, pausing for a moment before taking a deep breath and settling his thoughts for good, “Thank you for the party, Bruce. And for the candy. I should probably be getting off to bed.”

“Goodnight, then,” Bruce solemnly replied, watching as Clark walked back over to his room and shut the door.