I'm Not Even Particularly A Superbat Fan This Is Just Fire - Blog Posts

I love this because while we see Bruce hug his gf or kids quite a bit, that's always in a delicate way. To comfort them in an all encompassing soft hug.

This is clearly for himself. To ground himself with a bone crushingly tight hug that most people would find uncomfortable. To be enveloped in someone's embrace. To be held for once. To be able to fully stop supporting yourself and know you won't fall. To feel safe.

a moment of (weakness) comfort

Bruce doesn’t get enough credit for not caring about what others think AND being quick on his feet in every situation.

Imagine a gala where Lex Luthor has somehow tracked down who he thinks is Superman’s secret identity to one of the attendees, who he’s going to unearth by playing some high level frequency that only Kryptonians can hear (and hurts to be near).

Bruce clocks the device somehow during the initial schmoozing, turns on his (drunken) heel to (not so drunkenly) look for Clark, and drags Clark out by the lapels into the service hallway just in time to pin said Kryptonian to a wall and growl sorry under his breath.

Lex activates the device and the noise immobilizes Clark in pain. He’s crying real tears, eyes clenched shut, hands coming up to try and block out the frequency.

Bruce pushes his hands down, presses him back into the wall and kisses him. Hard. Almost hard enough to distract him. Salacious enough that anyone walking by would immediately avert their eyes.

Bruce’s hands cup Clark’s face, hiding the tears. He pins Clark’s hands between their chests so he can’t reach for his ears. To anyone who looks closely, Clark’s screwed up expression is from being kissed breathless by no other than Brucie Wayne himself.

Lex Luthor slips by, eyes sharp and looking for Superman. He passes them with a curled up lip and a distracted nod. The noise shuts off after a few minutes, unable to be sustained for long periods of time.

Bruce pulls back. Clark collapses forward into him, foreheads knocking together as the pain in his head begins to dull and the tears on his face start to dry. Weak and shivery, leaning on Bruce more than he ever has before.

“Okay?” Bruce asks quietly, instead of saying you’re welcome or that was closer than I’d like or even I’m sorry again.

Clark stares back at him, keenly aware of just how close that had been. And just how red Bruce’s lips are, suddenly.