Congrats on figuring out how the rest of this will work out, anon! :D I'm sure it's going to be amazing. This part definitely is.
Bruce has been frustrating, taciturn, as Batman, and obnoxious and excessive as Bruce Wayne; he's turned the charm up, turned it down, flipped the switch between sleazy and stoic. But he's never put this much effort into sheer featurelessness. Identity pooooorn. I am always here for the two extremes of Batman and Bruce Wayne and the real, private Bruce somewhere in between. God, that bit about Bruce somehow just not being there is so great. And Bruce being a good patient after everything before is just ... wrong. Poor Clark!
You do so many amazing things with all their different kisses in this fic, it's the most impressive thing. And a filthy dirty Bruce kiss should not make me so saaaaad, because Clark! Think of Clark's feelings, Bruce! Just breaks my heart how completely Bruce is withdrawing because omfg, no, he showed feelings! And then even slipped and kissed Clark, so of course now he has to make up for it by not making those public kisses too gentle and tender and meaningful. D: I mean, this, ouch, why do you hurt me so? Bruce's amiable, mirror-bright politeness whenever they're alone together makes Clark feel like an intruder, where two weeks of Bruce only putting up with him because of Alfred somehow hadn't. And it's turning into a grim kind of torture to have Bruce all over him outside and then giving him a friendly smile, moving away, the second they get inside. Compared to that, Clark's own dark, silent apartment is almost a relief.
watching, gauging, checking for a reaction. Waiting to be shoved away. He's trying to find a line Clark won't let him cross. God, is Bruce trying to get Clark to call things off? He is, isn't he? Because feeling Clark up in the dark of theatres, when nobody can't even see, he doesn't even have much of an excuse for that other than trying to drive Clark away.
It makes something in Clark's chest feel like it's cracking, weird and sad and hollow, to know with so much certainty that he doesn't mean it. He can't, not when his face looked the way it did two seconds ago. THIS IS BRUTAL, ANON, BRUTAL. (And perfect, you are so great.) As is that symphony scene, I feel so sorry for poor teased Clark. And Clark apologising for reacting to EXACTLY WHAT BRUCE WAS DOING TO HIM, THE BASTARD. I'm repeating myself, but poor Clark!
"Why not?" and, oh, there's something dangerous about that sharp-edged smile, something Clark needs to be careful of. Ooooh, is this the part where we're going to get fucking while they're still complete and utter idiots about their feelings? I'm wibbling again. This part was emotionally devastating and so great. Can I by founder of your fanclub or something? :D
Re: FILL: tell all the truth (but tell it slant); Bruce/Clark, fake dating (16/19ish)
Bruce has been frustrating, taciturn, as Batman, and obnoxious and excessive as Bruce Wayne; he's turned the charm up, turned it down, flipped the switch between sleazy and stoic. But he's never put this much effort into sheer featurelessness.
Identity pooooorn. I am always here for the two extremes of Batman and Bruce Wayne and the real, private Bruce somewhere in between. God, that bit about Bruce somehow just not being there is so great. And Bruce being a good patient after everything before is just ... wrong. Poor Clark!
You do so many amazing things with all their different kisses in this fic, it's the most impressive thing. And a filthy dirty Bruce kiss should not make me so saaaaad, because Clark! Think of Clark's feelings, Bruce! Just breaks my heart how completely Bruce is withdrawing because omfg, no, he showed feelings! And then even slipped and kissed Clark, so of course now he has to make up for it by not making those public kisses too gentle and tender and meaningful. D: I mean, this, ouch, why do you hurt me so? Bruce's amiable, mirror-bright politeness whenever they're alone together makes Clark feel like an intruder, where two weeks of Bruce only putting up with him because of Alfred somehow hadn't. And it's turning into a grim kind of torture to have Bruce all over him outside and then giving him a friendly smile, moving away, the second they get inside. Compared to that, Clark's own dark, silent apartment is almost a relief.
watching, gauging, checking for a reaction. Waiting to be shoved away. He's trying to find a line Clark won't let him cross.
God, is Bruce trying to get Clark to call things off? He is, isn't he? Because feeling Clark up in the dark of theatres, when nobody can't even see, he doesn't even have much of an excuse for that other than trying to drive Clark away.
It makes something in Clark's chest feel like it's cracking, weird and sad and hollow, to know with so much certainty that he doesn't mean it. He can't, not when his face looked the way it did two seconds ago.
THIS IS BRUTAL, ANON, BRUTAL. (And perfect, you are so great.) As is that symphony scene, I feel so sorry for poor teased Clark. And Clark apologising for reacting to EXACTLY WHAT BRUCE WAS DOING TO HIM, THE BASTARD. I'm repeating myself, but poor Clark!
"Why not?" and, oh, there's something dangerous about that sharp-edged smile, something Clark needs to be careful of.
Ooooh, is this the part where we're going to get fucking while they're still complete and utter idiots about their feelings? I'm wibbling again. This part was emotionally devastating and so great. Can I by founder of your fanclub or something? :D
/OP