Chapter Text
“I want to go to Mother,” Damian growled, his teeth barred, the pearly gates to an iron jaw. They’ve all been bitten by Damian at one point, and his bites were nothing to laugh at.
“No, Damian.” She ground her teeth right back. “We need to keep a low profile. The last thing we want is for mom to find out about our plan and get upset at us,” She turned her head toward the window, where Dick, Duke, and Jason were seen dragging a suspicious-looking lump towards a bush hedge. As Dick spotted her, he waved fervently, beaming.
Of course, she waved back, mirroring his smile back at him.
Damian scoffed, arms crossed, his chest petulantly. “Mother should be thanking us. He hates those scoundrels as much as we do.” He crept across the wall, tiptoeing inches away from Cass, as she stared out the window.
“Would you want people treating you like you’re delicate?” Cass rolled her eyes, not looking as she scruffed him by the collar of his suit. He hissed and kicked in her grip. That did little to release him.
“Y’know,” Stephanie started, saddling up to the two with a plate of goodies and a smirk tugging the corners of her lips. “If you wanted to be Mom’s guard puppy, you could just tell him. He’d think it’s so cute there's no way he’d say no!”
Cass and Steph began to cackle.
Damian clenched his fist, tight and knuckle whitening, and stomped his feet flat on the ground. “I am not a guard puppy.” He spat.
“Yeah,” Cass snickered, wiping a tear that bubbled at her eyes. “You’re not a guard puppy. You’re more like a guard kitty,”
And then, another round of laughter ensued.
Damian's cheeks grew red and hot, steam practically bursting from his ears. But, as he glanced toward the window, his eyebrows shot up, kissing his hairline. “The man that Todd, Grayson, and Duke had been beating is getting away.” He deadpanned.
“What! How?”
Immediately, Cass and Steph stopped their hounding, heads snapping so fast they’d be getting whiplash the next Friday.
Instantly, Damian grabbed Cass’s wrist of the hand that still held him in place with both hands and twisted, while his elbow forced her arm down.
Her hand buckled under the strain, cramping from the abuse. She let go, and as soon as she had, Damian made a mad dash, ducking as Steph reached out with one hand to grab him, plate still resting in the other.
“Damian!” Cass called, already attempting to push past the wall of bodies, Steph alongside her. But Damian was small and slippery, no more eel than boy, really, and had managed to slip through their legs like sand in an hourglass.
“Danmmit!” Cass cursed, ignoring the looks she’d received.
“Now we’re really gonna get in trouble,” Steph muttered, loud enough for Cass to hear, and she groaned in response.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
“Hey,” Clark perked up, from where he was resting his chin in his hands, staring over the balcony as the water fell in graceful ribbons down the water fountain’s spout.
“Hey! Tim! What’s up? Is everything okay?” He chuckled awkwardly, scratching at the side of his chin.
“Yeah, yeah, Everything's fine…Are you okay?” Tim asked with a worried drawl, arching his fine brow. Clark shook his head before correcting himself and nodding fervently. “Yes, Yes. I mean, yeah, I…” I sputtered, cheeks growing a reddish tint as Tim’s brow only hiked up further.
Clark sighed, shoulders sagging. “Yeah. I’m okay. It’s just…I hear them,” He admitted softly, gesturing with a tilt of his head to the room of people behind Tim. Tim glanced to the side, in thought.
“I hear what they say about Bruce, and..It makes me upset, y’know? That is all they can say when they see him, how they all…leer at him. He’s beautiful! But, he’s more than that…” He turned back towards the fountain, placing a wistful hand on the stone ledge.
Tim took careful steps until he was addled right next to Clark.
“I want to say something, or do something. I do! But I don’t want to make Bruce feel like he’s incapable or too weak to handle himself, I mean, we all know that he is the exact opposite of that,” He snorted. Tim chuffed a laugh.
“I just feel so…useless. Like I’m letting people talk about him like this, and treat him like this,” He threw his hands in the air for emphasis.
Tim shook his head, grabbing Clark's shoulder. “You’re not ‘letting’ people do anything. I mean, you guys clearly trust each other enough, right? You don’t have to fight people off to prove you love our mom,”
Clark smiled, a soft smile, but a smile nonetheless, and placed his heavy hand, heavy but gentle, on top of Tim’s own shoulder, giving a caring squeeze.
“I know, Tim…Thanks,”
“I mean, you could also rough up some guys once in a while…just to assert dominance. Tell them they should know better than to mess with THE Superman,” He drawled, looking at Clark impishly as Clark chuckled.
“Maybe-”
Steph and Cass, chests heaving as they gasped, slammed into the sides of the balcony opening, hair tussled.
“Have you... guys... seen.. Damian?” Steph managed to question through heavy breaths, leaning her body weight against the arches. Cass doubled over, hands on her knees.
“Uhhh, No-”
“He-He bit me!” They suddenly heard, somehow, over the cries of shock of the other partygoers.
They didn’t need to say anything; sharing a knowing glance between each other was all they needed before they collectively sighed through their noses and ran towards the direction where the person screamed.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
“What is going on here?”
Clark had asked the question, but it was a question he didn’t need answers to, having heard what Damian had screamed at the man as he flew through the crowd, elbowing through with an air of annoyance, now turned anger.
The man kept his blood-soaked and oozing hand curled to his chest, using the other hand that was cradling it to point at Damian with a finger of accusation, wielding it as his weapon.
“That-That ruffian bit me!” He held up the crimson oiled hand to Clark's face.
Bruce, hearing the man call one of his precious pups such a vile name, pulled Damian to his hip, rubbing his finger into Damian's shoulder. Before he could open his mouth to defend his pup's name, Clark, already boiling over, was tipped just a bit too far.
He took the man by the wrist, a bone-crushing grab that made the man squeal, pulling him so close they met chest to chest.
“I’ve had it with you people tonight. First, you put your hands on my fiancée, and now you insult my pup? I find it extremely rude, and I demand you to apologize to my family,” He implored, brows furrowed, and lips tightened in a thin line.
The man stuttered, seemingly gathering the gall to refuse the demand before Clark spun him around, gripping him by his collar and the buckle of his pants so that he was grounded directly in front of a smirking Damian and an unimpressed Bruce.
“Apologize. Now.” Clark insisted stonily, punctuating his words with an inflection of warning. The man breathed shakily, swept dripped from him like a loose faucet.
“I’m sorry! Oka?! I’m sorry!”
“For?”
“For touching you, Br-”
“Wayne!” Clark barked, the man shuddered, and cried.
“Wayne! For touching you, Wayne!”
“And…?” Clark urged, with a tilt of his head.
“And for insulting your pup! Now please, let me go-”
“Clark!” Bruce yelled, eyes bouncing from the marbled floor to the shaking man in Clark's grip. “Put him down.”
Of course, at Bruce’s request, he set the man down, neither gently nor roughly, leaving the man to curl into himself, a shaking, quivering, mess of tears and sweat.
Taking a breath, Clark looked around, eyes fluttering over the fearful faces of the partygoers, a wobbly smile dragging across his face when he gained his surroundings, so absorbed in his anger, he hadn't quite thought over what he’d done. Clearly.
Clark turned to Bruce with a sheepish smile, which immediately turned when he was met with Bruce’s glare. Bruce, with his hand into Damian’s and a hand on his hip, walked over to Clark, stepping over Edelman. He grabbed onto Clark’s ear with his finger and thumb. Clark winced at his pinch, which didn’t hurt (thank goodness for Kryptonian biology), but the force behind it was enough, pulling the two along, while Tim, Cass, and Steph followed behind, shoulders hunched, and faces scrunched together unabashedly.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Morrison, this has been a wonderful party, but we must get going,” Bruce said softly to the frozen fingers of the mansion owners he’d managed to spot in the crowd.
“B…I’m really sor-” Clark started to say before Bruce tightened his grip on his ear.
“Not now.” He said through gritted teeth.
They forced their way out the doors, meeting Jason, Dick, and Duke as they emerged from the other side of the bush hedge, suits looking worse for wear.
Predictably, Bruce was not happy when he saw that.
“What happened to your suits?” He cried, attempting to wipe the dirt from Jason's tux. Dick rubbed the back of his neck. “We fell?”
Bruce blinked, his fingers leaving Clark's ear (who messaged the reddening skin) to knead the digits of his nose.
“Go to the car, all of you.”
They whined in unison.“But, mama-”
“Go.”
With lips jutted in a pout (Steph and Dick), Heads hung low (Tim, Cass, and Duke), and arms folded (Jason and Damian), they stomped towards the car. not before flooding Bruce's and Clarks senses with 'sad pup, pup sad' scents. Enough to make Clark sniffle, almost sneeze.
Clark, who attempted to follow behind, was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. “You stay.” Was all Bruce uttered. Clark swallowed, adams apple bobbing as it trickled down.
“What was that back there?” To his credit, Bruce didn’t sound as angry as Clark had thought, just tired, which wasn’t much better, not when you're dating someone like the Batman.
“I freaked out. I know, I’m sorry,” He said, with placating hands held up.
“Why? Why would you act like that? Especially in there, you know the kinds of people in there. They talk, Clark.” He threw his hand out at the mansion, its yellow lights gleaming mockingly.
Bruce breathed through his nose. “I don’t care what they have to say about me. But it kills me every time people say awful things about you, or the pups.” He said tensely. Shoulders square and rigid as his eyes were kept glued to the grass.
Clark’s tooth dug into the meat of his bottom lip. “I know. I’m sorry. But, everything that’s happened tonight, well, it’s because we wanted to…we wanted to protect you. From those men, and those gross things they do,”
“I can protect myself, Clark,”
“I know! Trust me, B, I’ve never doubted how capable you are. But it’s the least we could do for you. We love you, Bruce, and when it kills you, the things that people say, it kills us, the things those people say, and do to you. We care about you, B. This is just one of the ways we do,”
Bruce, whose eyes had refused to meet Clark's the entire time, even when Clark vomited the words that broiled in his mind, only dared to look up to meet Clark.
He huffed, mouth curling into a smile, to which Clark returned with his own.
“You’ll all be the death of me,” He whispered, shaking his head, not unkindly, but brimming with adoration.
“Yeah. But you love it. And you love us,”
“Yeah.” Bruce’s smile widened. Only Clark was ever delegated to see. “I do.”
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
“Are we in trouble?” Dick peeped, sneaking a glance over the backseat, hiding behind Jason’s mountainous shoulder.
“No.” Bruce shrugged, one hand holding up his head as he watched the stars go past, the other holding onto Clark's, as Clark drove with one hand, with ease. Something he’d practiced for occasions like this.
Dick let out a relieved breath.
“But, you, Jason, and Dick are going to wash your suits by hand, as soon as we get home,” Bruce grinned into his hand. Clark swiped his tongue over his lip, swallowing down a grin of his own.
There was a collective groan in the backseat.
Steph and Cass laughed, delighted. Damian simpered.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
You never know what ‘good’ is until your life gets even better.