Clark has something to say

Bruce froze in place.

If it weren't for the smell of blood still lingering in his nose and the cold touch of his body, he even thought he was hallucinating.

He rubbed his fingers lightly, the Kevlar uniform still stained with blood.

—He had a rather dull life all day long, and he didn’t need to worry too much about the night patrol. When he returned to the manor, it is estimated that Ah Fu had already baked great cookies, and the outlaws would also come back from outer space. In a few hours , he will be able to see Jason.

The Batmobile directly broke his plan: [Impact detected, estimated loss... is being estimated, but cannot be estimated—zero! 】

Bruce: "..."

The Batmobile is broken?

When he turned into the target alley and saw the people lying in the sewage, his pupils suddenly constricted.

...Clark?

He had never seen Son of the Sun in such a state of distress. The big blue man was always happily flying around in the sky in a beautiful red cape. Bullets couldn't penetrate him, and any weapon was as fragile as paper to him.

Who can hurt Superman?He just needs to be optimistic about that soft heart.

But now, Clark, who was supposed to be working on the manuscript in the small apartment, fell here in tatters with injuries all over his body. His red cape was lost somewhere, and his uniform was broken.

Bruce subconsciously quickened his pace, but was hugged.

It was an extremely gentle but icy hug, he almost thought he was embracing a dying star, and that star was going out between his fingers.

He held Clark's back, trying to figure out what was going on, but he saw the man lift his eyelids vigorously, and his slack eyes fell on his face, but there was no focus. His blue eyes, as dead as a deep lake, quickly passed by. - Daoguang.

Bruce's mind—blank.

He is familiar with this look, it is the last light that bursts out when life is extinguished.

He opened his mouth urgently, and before he could utter a single syllable, he felt a sudden lightness in his arms, and his fingers only touched a piece of air.

It wasn't until he heard someone calling him anxiously that he came back to his senses.

"God... Rao, there is such a heavy smell of blood, Bruce, are you injured?"

He raised his head, and the red shadow flashed by in front of him, and in the next second, his shoulder was held down, and the son of the sun looked at him with those bright blue eyes: "Uh...you look at me now Like seeing a ghost?"

Clark - glanced at the strange-looking thing at Bruce's feet: "What is that?"

"It's not my blood." Bruce took the first step, fished the gadget into his hand, squeezed his fingers, and said in a tight voice, "Clark, take me back to the Batcave, immediately."

Although the little reporter didn't understand why, he still nodded obediently: "...give me your hand?"

Bruce swallowed hard, trying to remain calm, but his fingers were still trembling slightly with panic: "—you go and drive the Batmobile."

Clark - what a thrill!

According to the owner's mood, the little curly hair also secretly twisted twice.

He stammered, "Bat, Batmobile? Robin Joy? Are you sure? Can I drive it?"

Even though he asked, he hurried to the Batmobile and grabbed the hood.

It's his first time driving a Batmobile, but excitement turns to worry when he notices Bruce's dazed look.

All these days he'd been planning to confide in the Dark Knight, and even get closer--tonight his plan had been to go to Bludhaven and ask Dick for some bat-wielding lessons.

Let's wait until tomorrow, Clark thought to himself.

He pursed his lips, and—while driving the Batmobile absently—glanced into the rearview mirror, only to meet another pair of blue eyes, so focused that their pupils were filled with his own shadow.

Clark's ears turned slightly red.

Ever since he found his mind, the most common eye contact in the past seemed to have taken on a different flavor. He seemed to be concentrating on driving, and secretly glanced at the rearview mirror.

Bruce is still looking at him.

The little reporter suddenly felt a little stressed, he straightened his back a little, and coughed deliberately, so as to break the atmosphere that made him wonder where to put himself.

Bruce said abruptly: "Where were you before?"

Clark: "!"

The little flame of hope flickered again, and it was a great night, first he was allowed to use the Batmobile, and then Bruce asked him where he was—

Others might find it offensive, but Clark has long concluded a truth from the bat cub, the love of the big bat is directly proportional to the desire to control, or, Bruce has so much interest in him?

But he was also a little worried that his answer would reveal the boring side of the young people in the small town. After all, Master Wayne has enough nightlife no matter what his status is, and besides being a social animal to catch up on manuscripts——

Then he noticed that the man in the back seat had a nervous expression on his face.

Clark: "?"

He was a little confused, and at the same time his super brain was running fast, trying to make himself less poor and pathetic: the little reporter murmured: "Ah, at night, there is always something else to do at night—"

A voice full of anxiety and anger exploded in his ears, Bruce took off his mask, and there was still unconcealed panic in his tone, he suddenly said, "Where did you go?"

Rao.

This was Clark's first reaction.

Of course he was scared, the time he hammered through Lex's building and Bruce had to pay three times the battle damage, Batman didn't treat him like that, he's been a little bloated lately, and he's been a little out of business, but it was just a week ago , he just won a Pulitzer—

The back seat of the Batmobile has become a corner of hell, and unspeakable shadows are crawling out of the corner.

Clark really shivered—"...I'm looking at the head of a choking dog."

Afterwards, he was fortunate enough to appreciate the world's number one detective—a blank downtime expression.

Bruce took a deep breath and asked slowly, "...what?"

He tried to find the relationship between a tattered superman and a choking dog head, after all, the previous Clark couldn't fake it, there was no doubt that it was Clark, he knew it at a glance, but, but choking What is a dog head?

Clark explained in a low voice: "It's something like a tearful cat's head. Although Tim asked me to write a public relations draft, to be honest, I don't think it's necessary, so I'm just fishing..."

He watched Bruce's expression go blank.

The little reporter closed his mouth just right, and slammed on the gas pedal. In the blink of an eye, there was an intersection. He stiffened his body, and relying on the Kryptonian's super fast reaction speed, he stepped on the brake.

The Batmobile parked neatly at the empty intersection.

Clark breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in his chair: "Fortunately, there is no violation."

Superman received a lot of tickets for speeding in Gotham. He had reason to suspect that he was being punished by the staff on duty, but speeding is speeding, even if he didn't take any transportation. Most of the awards are in vain.

Bruce: "..."

He endured it for a long time, and said angrily, "Is there something wrong with you?"

He had to admit that the scene of Clark disappearing in his arms had awakened—a pile of terrible memories, so that he—was in a panic for a moment, and now that the peace of mind and steadiness had returned—he took another deep breath.

Clark paused.

He suddenly realized that maybe the Batmobile had violated the rules in the past, but the GCPD police pretended not to see anything, a subtle jealousy and double-standard unhappiness rose from the heart of the god on earth at the same time.

Clark frowned: "You never pay the ticket?"

Bruce: "?"

Clark turned his head and continued to babble: "Then can you tell Gordon, next time I come to Gotham, don't count me as speeding, can I apply for reimbursement, the last time I got a ticket was because of Jason I have to write an article and submit it, and he calls me like he just killed a few Damians..."

Bruce didn't answer, and Clark didn't care. He had long been accustomed to the silence of the Dark Knight, turned around and continued driving.

Bruce stays in the backseat, eyes downcast.

He let go of his finger, and the weird-looking gadget was lying in the palm of his hand. He scanned it with an instrument, and it was extremely exquisite, but he didn't see any tricks.

One hypothesis after another was rolling in his mind, but no matter which one, he couldn't convince himself that the happy meringue in front of him and that cold body were the same person.

Thinking, he took off his gloves and touched the back of the little reporter's neck.

Warm and peaceful.

Clark was stiffened by the sudden touch, and the Kryptonian's rich imagination began to picture the purpose of that hand in his mind.

Before he could come up with a result, the Batmobile roared all the way into the base. Alfred held a small copper lamp, saw Clark get out of the Batmobile first, and suddenly raised his heart.

The old butler walked up a few steps: "Mr. Kent, Master Bruce, is he okay?"

Alfred welcomes Clark as a guest at Wayne Manor anytime, but he doesn't like the fact that Superman brings Batman back, especially if there's a Batmobile, which usually means his kid is badly injured— —

Bruce got out of the Batmobile, didn't waste any time, and went to the console to analyze the blood stained on the uniform. At the same time, without looking up, he ordered: "Ah Fu, give Clark a physical examination."

The memory device, which he ignored temporarily, vibrated on the console.

The time is almost up.

The old butler was startled: "Okay."

Clark touched the back of his head, followed Ah Fu out of the Batcave, and whispered, "Ah Fu, something is wrong with Bruce today, and I didn't encounter any strange things today."

Afu said thoughtfully: "Maybe he needs to rest, Mr. Kent, I hope you can stay here for one night, and I will clean up the room for you."

They walked around the corner, but just bumped into Dick. The big blue bird remembered Clark's plan, and smiled and elbowed Clark on the back: "No need, Ah Fu, he will sleep with me tonight."

He stopped the old housekeeper: "Leave the next thing to me."

When Ah Fu's back disappeared into the corridor, he familiarly hooked Clark's neck, dragged him into the bedroom, and closed the door. His face changed instantly, solemn and serious: "Dude, are you serious?"

Clark blinked: "... Kryptonians have a saying of soul mates, I think, B is mine..."

Dick said roughly, "Stop."

Clark waited with bated breath for Dick's opinion.

Dick's beautiful blue eyes flashed—and said helplessly: "If you can be with him, it's really—"

In the bat cave, the memory device flashed a light, and quietly turned into powder.