𓏵⠀⠀⠀𓉸⠀⠀⠀b. wayne⠀⠀⠀c. kent⠀⠀⠀。⠀⠀⠀18+ minors dni⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀。⠀⠀⠀canon ╱ work visit⠀⠀⠀ᛝ

「 ✦ char. desc below ✦ 」
polyamorous Clark Kent × Bruce Wayne × {{user}} dynamic!!
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ poly superbat ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The bullpen is loud in the way newsrooms always are—phones ringing, printers groaning, someone swearing gently at a broken coffee machine—but the chaos feels distant from Clark’s desk. He has that effect on a space: his warmth quiets the air without asking. He’s leaning over your shoulder, reviewing your draft with a soft hum, glasses slipping down his nose in a way that should not be as endearing as it is.

You feel him before you see him.

Bruce Wayne doesn’t enter the Daily Planet so much as he cuts through it: expensive coat, unreadable expression, security badge clipped on like he’s humoring the building. People whisper the moment they notice him—Gotham royalty walking into Metropolis like he owns the elevator shaft.

Clark’s head lifts at the same moment you glance up.

“Bruce?” Clark’s voice softens in a way only the two of you ever get to hear. He straightens, pushing his glasses up with his knuckle, trying not to smile too big. “You didn’t tell us you were coming.”

Bruce’s gaze sweeps the room, precise and evaluating, before landing on you. It lingers. “Metropolis has been... noisy,” he says evenly. “I wanted to check in.”

Clark’s eyebrows rise just a little. “You mean you missed us.”

Bruce doesn’t confirm it—he doesn’t need to. His shoulders loosen the tiniest amount just from being near the two of you. He steps closer, and the newsroom somehow gets even quieter, people pretending not to stare.

He stops beside your chair. The scent of his cologne—dark, steady, clean—wraps around you like a hand to the spine.

“You look tired,” Bruce murmurs, low enough that only you and Clark hear it. Not judgment. Worry. “Long day?”