The BOWL; Superbat

4

One month can seem like a long time. Most likely a month deems necessary to be long but not in this case.
Bruce and Clark had already been marked for ten days. August has thirty one days, minus the time already passed before the marking, which was August third. Most deltas would have already had their once a year heat by this time of the year, omegas not yet to their third and last.

Bruce stared at his equipment as it bubbled Brown and murky. His son watched him. "Father." The older looked from his works.

"What is it?"

"Superman is waiting for you in the lounge." Damien walked over setting a black envelope beside Bruce's hand. "And this came in for you."

He grabbed the thick paper without opening it and followed Damien out of the cave. Other than his frantically beating heart, all he could hear was the footsteps freaking down the halls. Bruce turned into the brightly lit room with his blue and red opposite standing with Alfred. He's never seen Clark so relaxed yet so tense. With Bruce arriving Clark faces him.
His heart sped up just from seeing Clark's face.

"Hey..."

"Hi." It had only been two days since they last met. "What's that in your hand?" Clark asked. Bruce lifted the slightly crumpled paper.

"Uhm. An invitation of some sort. I thinks it's from William." He shoved it in his back pocket before walking closer to the others. A gust of wind past the three blowing Bruce's hair into his face, snickers coming from the silhouette at the end of the bar.

"You have some nice liquor here, Mr. Wayne."

"Barry."

He stepped from the shadow in his red suit. "Ollie and Diana should be here in Gotham city. He suspects Onomatopoeia got out of Arkham when it, y'know. Went kaboom." Both Bruce and Clark scoffed at Barry's joke. "Get it?"

"Enough, Allan. Tell us everything."

"Well, this isn't the first time Arkham asylum has been compromised by it's inmates but since the most recent before this the blueprint mapping was turned into a maze that only nurses and psychiatrists knew. Somehow a few patients found out the mapping and built a bomb to cause many deaths and possible escapes. Joker, Harleen Quinzel, Lex Luther, Scarecrow, and Onomatopoeia are suspected escapees." Barry inhaled. "Ollie needed my help and Diana was in town. We both showed up to help but she was busier than expected. I told him I would call Clark but he had already contacted the both of them."

"Now he's here to take Diana's place. That invitation you have, him and William orchestrated a party at The BOWL." Clark flipped an opened envelope identical to Bruce's. "Nothing important but a beacon for Joker And Harley. Maybe even Lex."

Bruce smirked. "Wow. Sometimes I forget that the other multimillionaire kids can be smart."

The rest of the day and all throughout the week Clark and Bruce worked in and out of the laboratory. Tests upon tests taking most of their time besides the occasional pop up from Alfred with snacks or Lois and Jon calling to say goodnight. The Wayne brought his ideas to Lucius over the phone, William finding his own through the chain. It was a long process and it was hardly a breakthrough.

Soon the party at The BOWL was only minutes away. Clark struggled with his tie in the mirror, a tear finally breaking his efforts. Bruce stepped in with his top three buttons undone on his maroon dress shirt. He tsked. "Unless you want to look out of place, don't wear a tie. It's not that formal. Half the people there will be shifted or practically naked."

Bruce tore the short open to expose some of Clark's chest, not expecting the rush of his fresh cut grass scent to come straight into his nose. He halted. "...Bruce?"

He shook his head ignoring Clark. "Lets go."

Alfred stopped the limousine outside the front doors of the hotel and came out to open there side door. Bruce then Clark stepped from the back into the red carpet leading inside. Security checked them off at the front of the mile long line, less wealthy people whining as they entered into flashing lights and smashed bodies. Bruce took Clark's by the forearm, his trail through the people and wolves ending in the back. An empty curved booth reserved for them wrapped around a table covered with booze and hors'douerves of sorts. The two scooted to face the people.

"I, uh. I've never been to something like this. I mean, I can't get drunk unless you spiked my drink with kryptonite, but we're in a fragile situatio-"

"Relax, farmboy." He took a bottle of green liquid from the stack of alcohol and poured it into two well bottomed glass, filling them to the top of the well. "Place the sugar cube on the spoon..." Clark did as told, Bruce taking a lighter and setting both aflame before mixing it into the drinks. "Bottoms up."

Clark hesitated but complied, both down the bittersweet alcohol. In not time at all he was sputtering at the taste. "That was nasty."

"Most people add ice water or lemon juice. I prefer not to."

"Wow. What even is that?"

"Absinthe. I've grown to like it." He took the bottle and poured another glass and without thinking drank a full thing. Bruce leaned over Clark peaking out of the booth. He climbed over him and pulled Clark onto the dance floor. Fur rubbed against their slacks as they moved into the crowd. "Don't be so stiff, blend in or we'll be spotted." Bruce whispered pulling him closer. "Just dance."

"You sure do get excited." He smirked.

"I'm stressed and this is how I relieve it if I can't get laid."

"Oh..."

Bruce gripped Clark by the shirt, pulling in as much scent from him as possible. Strangers hands caressed strangers, lower body parts grinding on every possible person near, tails and snouts drunkly bumped into legs. Bruce lifted his head from Clark's neck, the bright blue eyes Clark had tantalizing him.
He stood on his toes pushing himself into Clark's lips. Both leant in with persistent warmth swallowing them whole, neither pulling away as they moved deeper into the kiss. They had stopped dancing and Bruce maneuvered them back into the booth where he sat in Clark's lap, tongues entangled. Clark suddenly pulled back.

"What about Lois?"

"If you have to ask, it doesn't matter."

The night went on from there. Sober Clark flew the two of them home, Bruce drunk out of his head and tripping over his feet. Alfred turned his attention to Bruce keeping up late while Clark returned to Metropolis. To his wife and son.
It was only a kiss.

"Right..? "