The BOWL; Superbat

1

The one place Bruce could get away was in a silent, empty room at The BOWL. He'd lay there thinking. He'd read. He'd watch whatever the hell he wanted to watch. The owner knew him well over the years he spent there...

It wasn't as loud as it had been in the earlier hours of the night. Bruce left Alfred quickly from the limousine, his feet carrying him to the cave as fast as he could. Clark wasn't supposed to be there. He had told him Gotham was off limits from anyone but himself. He was the sole protection and provider. "Clark!"

"I'm right here." Clark stepped from the shadows still in his work clothes. Bruce turned only to be pushed and flown back against the wall of the cave. He barely cried out before he tossed himself into the closest batgear, his legs were engulfed in the armor as Clark stomped his way towards him. "I told you never to come to Gotham. Why can't you listen to just one simple rule, Kent?"

Clark ignored his words going for Bruce's hands. Bruce moved back when the other was maybe five feet away and heaved his armored foot into Clark's chest. He went flying across the cave over a table, into the wall. Clark flew into Bruce's own both caught glaring furiously at one another. "I came to talk."

"You never come to just talk." In that moment they fought, Bruce being moved with his back to Clark. Bruce shouted something Clark didn't quite understand before his upper arm began to sting. An arrow with a kryptonite tip had shot from the wall shooting him. Clark instinctively and angrily bit down on Bruce's neck with now regard for the upcoming screeching halt in his action. Once he tasted blood Clark pushed the other away. Bruce's hand covered the mark. "You bit me!?" He growled.

"I-i-" Nothing other came out of Clark's mouth before Bruce attacked him. He help as he was tackled to the floor and his own blood was sleeping from a bite wound in his forearm. Both heaved breaths with ferocious looks on their faces.

"Get out and don't come back."

"You know I can't now-"

"Out!"

Clark let in a breath and exhaled as he pulled the kryptonite arrow from his arm. "We need to talk about Joker. Luther was in the Arkham asylum when it went down, he could be at large too-"

"Frankly, I don't give a fuck."

"Bruce."

"Leave Gotham. Now." Neither passed a full heartbeat before Clark was gone.

Clark was day kissed. He watched the sun rise over the sheen roof of his mother's farmhouse awaiting her waking. It was pinks and oranges, the faint scent of blood and wine Bruce had left in the shirt of his suit. He paused before pulling his suit jacket open. Splatters of blood freckles the white of his shirt. He sniffed. No matter the distance between them the smell of Bruce Wayne made him dizzy and shiver through his core.
The rooster crowed. Clark stood and flew closer to the house. The kitchen light turned on as he entered. "Hi, ma." Martha gasped, her heart racing. She slowly turned to face her son.

"You nearly scared me to the moon, Clark. What are yo- is that blood?" Her hand went to the still healing scar on his arm. She was concerned greatly for her son. "Come inside, tell me what happened."

Clark sat across from Martha with his arm in her grasp. His sleeve was cut up to his shoulder with blood staining the pale fabric from the wound on the back of his arm that still leaked blood. She hadn't ever had to stitch him up, he was never harmed so there was no need. Her hands shook with the needle piercing through and through his skin. "Mom?"

"I'm fine... Tell me who I'm smelling when I wouldn't be so worried."

Clark glanced away. "Bruce Wayne. CEO and owner of Wayne enterprises. We, uh- " He cleared his throat. "We're friends. Ish." Martha glared at him.