Similis

"Batman!" Jonathan's voice came out of nowhere. "Over here!" A Wayne Foundation limousine cruised to a halt in front of the Batmobile.



"Jon?" Bruce was understandably less surprised to see Jonathan and Alfred arriving than Clark was.



"Dad?" The boy stared in confusion at his father.



"Clark!" Jonathan practically leapt out of the car. "Quick, get Haze in the back here." He ordered. Bruce admitted that the instruction made a certain amount of sense; the Batmobile was not exactly made for carrying passengers and squeezing Haze in beside Clark might restart the bleeding. He decided to ride with them and have the Batmobile follow on autopilot. Maybe all three of them being close would help Haze somehow?



"Let's go, Clark." Bruce urged the boy. "Haze will be a lot more comfortable in there." He didn't miss the anxious look that Jonathan was giving him. "I'll tell you all about it on the way, Jon." He promised.



"Alfred, set up the secure link to the medical centre, then call ahead and tell the team that we're coming in with a special patient, and that this is top-security. I don't want anyone outside of my usual medical team to even guess at anything out of the ordinary going on. I'll ride in back with Jon and the boys. Call Lex Luthor, explain the situation with Haze, and ask him to meet us at the centre as soon as he can."



"Very good, sir." Alfred responded, already preparing to drive away.







"So that's what happened? But why did you want Haze to see a doctor?" Jonathan sounded unhappy. He glanced around the private ward uncomfortably.



"Because I want them to run some tests. Haze isn't healing, and neither Clark nor I could reach him." Bruce was quietly insistent. "I've sent for Lex too, in case he can do something more … But I think it's best to have Haze monitored while we're waiting."



Leaving Clark to settle Haze on the waiting bed, Jon drew Bruce aside.



Watching through the observation window, Bruce was pleasantly surprised as Clark immediately picked up a washcloth and a towel, and began devotedly washing every trace of the dirt and scorch marks off of Haze, drying each limb with tender thoroughness as he went.



Bruce's opinion of the 'real' Clark improved by leaps and bounds as he watched the boy's gentle treatment of his 'twin'.



"I had a quick chat with Clark, while you and Alfred were sorting everything else out, but I haven't told him much about you, except that you were helping us find him." Jonathan said softly, casting a quick glance at his son's busy form.



"I'll let you decide what you're comfortable with telling Clark. He knows that we've been staying at Bruce Wayne's home, and that you and Haze have been working together…"



"Dad? What was that about Haze?" Clark was evidently finished with his self-appointed task. Haze was clean and dry, the bed was tidy, and the equipment was put away. Damn, the kid was FAST…



Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Nothing, Clark. Stop eavesdropping."



"DaAd!" Came the immediate complaint. "I wasn't, I just heard you talking, is all."



"Ears like a … hound." Jonathan grinned. He ruffled his son's hair with open affection, "Go keep an eye on Haze."



Obediently Clark padded away.







Bruce smiled at the obvious substitution. "I'll see how things progress." He suggested.



"You do that. I'm heading down town to the Wayne Building to meet with Martha. She and Lex are coming up from Smallville." Jonathan pursed his lips as he usually did when he felt that he was about to impose. "Would it be okay if Alfred drives us around? I'm not sure I could find this place again?"



"It'll be fine." Bruce assured him. "I'll be staying here."



"Not happy with tights as daywear?" Jonathan ribbed him.



Bruce shrugged, "I make it look good anytime." He said with a slight smile.



"Sure, buddy. You keep on telling yourself that." Jonathan laughed. "We can ask Martha what she thinks when you finally meet her."



Bruce fought to hold in his own laughter. "Just because you let her do your thinking for you, doesn't mean I'm going to." He teased.



"Ooh, that's harsh." Jonathan winced theatrically. "A low blow." He gave Bruce a sideways look of mock-protest, "And I thought you were my friend?"



"Jon, I was sitting right there when you two were talking on the phone right after the big game?" Bruce reminded him.



"You are never going to let me live that down, are you?" Jonathan grumbled mildly. "I was just distracted by hearing that the Vipers had that brilliant touch-down disallowed. It could have happened to anyone."



"But it happened to you!" Bruce chuckled. "Well, we both know how you found out that you don't look good in tights, don't we? I'm betting your wife only lets you wear pants when you're allowed out? 'Yes, dear, whatever you say dear…' I can't wait to meet your wife, Jon," He told him with a wide grin. "It'll be nice to finally see what your boss looks like." Waving goodbye to Jon, he walked into the room and closed the door behind him.







"Mom has red hair, and she's very pretty." Clark said helpfully from the seat beside Haze's bed. "Batman?" The wide eyes were guileless. "How come you and my Dad know each other so well?"



"I'll tell you later." Bruce offered. "Right now I need to get someone to fetch us something to eat."



"Eat?" The youngster suddenly looked as though Bruce had just offered to save his life.



"Sure, I reckon the budget will stretch to feeding us both." Pointing back into the room, Bruce grinned. "We'd better get a message to your parents so they can fetch in some decent clothes for you while we're at it. Wouldn't do to have any complaints from the staff about you flashing the nurses." Not that it wasn't quite a nice view…



Clark blushed from head to toe, literally, and snatched up a sheet from the second, unoccupied, bed.



* * * *





After he had watched Clark delicately pack another tray full of food away, on top of the first, which the boy had practically inhaled, and the second, which he had probably managed to at least taste as it went down, Bruce sat back and wondered if all the people from that world had hollow legs, or if it was only Clark?



Probably something to do with being a growing teenager, he figured. A good long look at the strapping youth decided him that much more growing and Clark would have to be fitted with a lightning rod, as he was going to dwarf all surrounding structures…



"Oh, man. That feels great." Clark sighed, stretching out on the other cot and wriggling his toes.



Thank god we're already working on getting the kid some clothes. Bruce told himself.



Clark had abandoned the sheet for the moment, as it was only the three of them in the room, and it was impossible to miss the fact that the boy's shorts had fragmented even further during the intervening period. The ends of the legs were barely covering the lower curve of Clark's buttocks by now.



"Bare feet or full belly?" Bruce wondered aloud. If any more of the fabric disintegrated the tightly stretched denim would start to look more like a thong than shorts. He told himself firmly that he wasn't looking, and that he had just happened to notice, purely in passing… Anyone would have done the same. He didn't succeed in convincing himself in the least.



Not that he doesn't look good. Too damn good really. Bruce kept that thought firmly to himself as well.



"Both." Clark grinned back, letting out a surprisingly polite belch from behind one massive hand. "Thanks."



"You're welcome." Bruce fixed his attention on the boy's face, and promised himself that he was not going to look below waist level again until the kid had more clothes on. It didn't help his control at all that Clark looked exactly like Haze, either, which meant that Bruce already knew what those rags were hiding.



I may know how his body looks, but that tells me nothing about how his mind might work… When it came down to it, all Bruce really knew about this kid was that Clark was alien, although not the same as Haze, and that the two youths were somehow mentally linked. The subject of exactly how close the two lads were in any other way hadn't exactly come up.



Maybe it's just innocent affection between them? Haze is immensely tactile after all. But what about Clark? I have no idea how he views Haze. What they share could be purely brotherly… Although somehow Bruce had the feeling that it wasn’t...



For all I know Clark could usually be strictly girl-oriented and making a complete exception purely for Haze? That wouldn’t have surprised Bruce in the least … He could personally testify to the effortless way that the angel had of totally circumventing people's defensive barriers …



"So how come my Dad is friends with the Batman?" Clark was evidently not easily sidetracked once he had made up his mind to pursue something. "Not that it's not cool," He added quickly.



"We met by chance when Haze and your Dad saved my life. When they told me why they were in Gotham, I decided that I would repay them by helping them with what they came here for." It seemed safe enough to tell the boy that much anyway…



"Finding me?" Clark guessed.



"Yep."



Turning onto his side Clark cast a longing look over the still form lying in the bed beside him. The fingers of his upper hand eased gently between Haze's, locking their palms together. "And you got close to Haze." He speculated quietly. Thankfully he didn’t sound jealous, more wistful …







Bruce got up, locked the outer door and pulled the main curtains closed as well, so that they could have privacy. No one should need to disturb them. All the tests had already been done and Haze's wounds had been cleaned and dressed, and the monitors set up. It was only a matter of waiting now for the results to come through.



He settled carefully on the other side of the bed, moulding himself as close to Haze as he was able with the bulky body armour in the way. "Yes." He admitted. "I probably shouldn't have. I wouldn't at first, but Haze was incredibly persistent."



"When Haze wants to do something, it's awfully hard to persuade him that it's not going to be good for him." Clark said sagely. He pillowed his head on his bent arm, and gazed at Haze. "In fact, it might just be impossible."



"You could be right." Bruce agreed. Something about Haze sent his hormones into overdrive, he simply couldn't help himself, and now here was Clark, looking like a living 3-D photocopy of his angel. Except that Clark's actually the original…



"Can I talk to you?" Clark asked suddenly. His eyes flicked up, and as their eyes locked, Bruce felt his heart skip. "I mean, in confidence?"



"Depends what it's about." Bruce hedged. "But I'm fairly good with secrets."



"So am I." Clark promised. He looked at Bruce with open curiosity. "Isn't it uncomfortable wearing all that?"



"Not as uncomfortable as getting dug full of holes on a regular basis." Bruce told him. "But that isn't what you wanted to ask me, is it?"



"No." Clark gave him a shy glance from under his lashes.



"So this secret, is it something that might hurt anyone else?" Bruce asked carefully.



Clark blinked. "No. At least I don't think so," His eyes flicked back to Haze. "It's something that I really can't talk to my parents about. They find the whole 'alien thing' hard enough to get on with. I don't want to worry them with anything extra. They wouldn't understand."



Ah, a 'coming out' type secret then? Bruce wondered why Clark should choose to unburden himself to someone who was, after all, in essence a total stranger? Bruce wasn't convinced that, even as Batman, his persona was anywhere near magnetic enough for stray kids to start spontaneously opening their hearts to him … Unless Clark was actually making some sort of a play for him?



Oh come on! Get real, Bat brain! Why would someone who looked like Clark did be after me? Then again, Haze did… He wondered again about how alike the two boys were?



"Neither would Lex." Clark continued, unaware of Bruce's tangled internal musings, "Dad said they told him about my abilities, but not the alien thing." He sighed. "Even though I couldn’t tell Lex about my having powers before, he did already know about me liking guys as much as girls … Which my parents don't …"



No, evidently not that then… A bit here, another bit there … How many secrets has this kid been keeping for heaven's sake??







Clark shut his eyes, as if that would make it easier. "You've had Haze in your head too," He said finally. "So I thought that maybe you'd understand?"



Bruce looked at him carefully. "What might I understand, Clark?"



"How I don't mind that Haze can read me."



"Oh, that." Nothing sinister then, but Bruce could see why Clark would feel uncomfortable talking about this particular topic, especially with the very people who raised him to hold on tight to his secrets. Lex probably wouldn't take it very well either, the younger Luthor was far too paranoid to accept telepathy as having any innocent uses, or users.



Before meeting Haze, I wouldn’t have taken it all that well either…



"Yeah." Clark answered. His eyes locked on Bruce's.



"Then I do know what you mean." Bruce told him. "I feel that way too."



"I thought you would."



"It was unbelievably intimate." Bruce continued the train of thought aloud without quite intending to.



"But good." Clark said wistfully.



"Oh, yeah. Good…" Bruce shook himself, he was practically salivating here, and at least one of the boys was a minor.



Or is he? Jon had said that he and Martha had only guessed at Clark's age when they took him in, and the boy was only weeks from becoming eighteen officially, so if they had gotten it even the slightest bit short, then Clark was already legal …







"Are you tired?" Clark asked.



"Tired?" Bruce couldn’t see the connection with the topic under discussion.



"You keep spacing out, a bit." The boy told him. "And frowning."



"Oh." Bruce decided to go with the flow. "Uh, yeah. It's been a long night, day, whatever… A very long shift."



"Do you want this bed? I could take the chair for a while." Clark offered.



Bruce thought it over. Did he? He knew that he was not going to be in the least bit comfortable trying to doze in full armour. That part wasn't going to improve significantly, no matter where he tried it.



"No. But thanks." Besides, without knowing how Haze was doing Bruce didn't think that sleep was going to be on the cards.



"Clark, how do you know that I'm frowning?" He realised that he had experienced a definite delay in processing the end of that conversation. He was far more tired than he had thought.



"I can see you." Clark shifted uneasily. "X-ray vision, remember?"



"You know what I look like? Under the …" Bruce felt a curious thrill at that. How much can the kid see? It also occurred to him that Clark could have been peeking at more than just his face. And just exactly what parts has Clark been looking at?







"Uh, yeah. I didn't really mean to, but my abilities still sorta activate at odd times. Subconscious, you know?" Clark squirmed self-consciously. "I was just sitting here wondering about what you looked like, and then I saw."



"My face?" Bruce probed. The cherry red flush that spread across the youngster's pleasant features as he fidgeted on the cot told Bruce the rest.



"And?" He couldn't resist teasing the kid, any more than he could resist teasing Jon. There was definitely something about the Kent men. "What else were you looking at, Clark?"



"Uhmm, okay, not just your face." Clark admitted shyly, "You look pretty hot." He peered out from under those lush dark lashes again. "You're not mad are you?"



"Because you just told me that you think I look pretty hot?" Bruce laughed. "No. Why would I be? In fact, it's quite flattering." He decided to take a chance. "So, do you mind if I take this off?" He tapped the armour. "Since it's not serving any real purpose."



Clark blinked as if he hadn't quite considered that. "No, I guess."



"And I suppose you already recognised me?"



"Uhm, yes. You're Mr. Wayne."



"You can call me Bruce, unless I'm in the armour." Bruce decided, hoping to make it easier for Clark to relax around him. "If I can call you Clark?"



"Sure." Clark glanced around. "Uhm, what if someone comes in?"



"This section of the building is off limits to anyone except my personal staff, and they already know everything they need to know." Bruce reassured him, as he deftly manipulated the hidden catches and removed the protective layers including the leg sections, leaving himself standing in the soft cotton all-in-one that he wore under the armour to prevent it chafing.



"Wow." Clark's low-voiced comment drifted across the room. "Dad was wrong about the tights…"



Setting the mask and cowl down, Bruce turned and looked at Clark. "He was?"



"Oh yeah." The way the boy's eyes tracked his movements showed definite interest.







Pulling off the undersuit Bruce tossed that aside too, leaving only his boxers. Stepping into the joggers and sweatshirt that Alfred had left there for him, he stashed the armour in the holdall and shoved it out of the way.



"Oh, gosh!" Clark flushed crimson and hid his face in his hands. "Sorry, I was staring! I shouldn't have. That's so rude of me."



"Clark." Bruce walked barefoot across the linoleum. "Clark…" He took hold of the boy's hands and eased them away from his face. "It's okay. I really don't mind. And if I'm honest, then I should tell you that I was doing a bit of looking too."



"You were? Why?" Clark seemed totally bemused by that.



"Because I like the way you look too." Bruce smiled.



"I…" Clark's blush deepened, if that were possible. "I'm nothing special."



"Of course you are. Come on, Clark, you must know exactly how you look." Bruce pressed. If this was for real then the boy was far too modest for his own good, or anyone else's come to that… He tried another tack. "Don't you think that Haze is attractive?"



"Oh yes." Clark certainly thought that. He automatically glanced over at his duplicate. "Haze is …" He swallowed. "Perfect."



"And that is what other people see when they look at you."



"Haze says that too. But apart from Haze no one else really knows me." Clark muttered. "They don't know what I'm capable of." His expression changed. "Is that what you see?" He stared at Bruce hopefully, then a small cloud of doubt crept in. "Do you really see me?" He asked more cautiously, "Or do you think you're seeing Haze?"



"Hello in there?" Jonathan called, tapping on the door. He slipped inside. "Everyone decent?"



"Jon. Sure, come in." Bruce greeted him. "I just got changed." He didn't think it would be helpful to mention exactly where he had done it. The door off to the small adjoining bathroom was open; let people make their own assumptions.



"So can Martha and Lex come in too?" Jonathan wondered. "As requested we've also picked up some fresh clothes for Clark." He passed over a carrier bag to his son. "Here you are Clark, go and scramble into those while we introduce Bruce to your mom."



"Of course." Bruce prepared to greet his extra guests.







"Delighted to meet you, Mrs Kent. Bruce Wayne at your service." He kissed the back of her hand, making her laugh out loud.



"Call me Martha." The delicate redhead offered. "I hear that you've been taking care of my boys?"



"I've done what I could." Bruce agreed.



"I guess it's been a tough job?" Martha sympathised. "You look exhausted."



"I am a bit tired." Bruce admitted. "Hello Lex," He looked at the young man standing behind Martha. "Haven't seen you in a while, how are you?"



"Fine, Bruce. How's Clark?" Lex asked, staring at the fluttering curtain. "And Haze?"



"Clark's okay now. Haze is still…" Bruce felt awkward saying anything.



"Mom!" Clark padded out from behind the curtain, leaving it open behind him. Hugging his mother, he let her reassure herself that he was basically in one piece, before reaching out one hand and resting it on Lex's shoulder.



The two youths shared a quick glance, before both going back over to stand beside Haze. Lex put his hands on Haze's shoulders and closed his eyes.







After a few unproductive minutes, it became apparent that Lex was no better placed in the miracle department than either Bruce or Clark. "I'm sorry," He said.



"Lex, it's not your fault!" Clark was quick to reassure his friend. "Maybe Haze just needs a bit of time?"



"Sure, Clark." Lex hugged his friend and gave a small smile. "Sure." He looked absolutely drained.



"Are you okay, Lex?" Clark did not miss the dark circles under Lex's eyes. "You've worn yourself out looking for me, haven't you?"



"No comment." Lex put his hands up and would not be drawn.



Bruce decided that a change of conversation might be in order, before either of the youngsters could get around to blaming themselves for the current state of affairs. Everyone was tired and sensitive, and an argument now could be disastrous.



"How is Haze doing, Bruce?" Jonathan asked, "Any change?"



"No, the readings are stable, Jon. We should get the rest of the test results in about five hours." Bruce told them both.



"What can you do for Haze?" Martha was openly anxious.



"We've got a few monitors hooked up," Bruce hoped that he sounded more confident than he was. "But I won't allow any intervention until the results come back, in case we make things worse."



Jonathan yawned widely. "Well, I don't know about any of you," He looked apologetic, "But it's getting close to my bedtime."



"Mine too." Martha agreed. She looked at Lex.



"I was up so early this morning that I still think it's yesterday." Lex smiled, rejoining the conversation.



"Then Alfred can take you all back to the house and I'll see you tomorrow." Bruce offered.



"You're staying here?" Jonathan didn't seem all that surprised.



"I feel like I have to stay close to Haze, and I agreed that Clark should too." Bruce told him. "Besides, we still aren't out of the woods where Edge is concerned, so I think it best that we keep a round the clock guard in here."



"Okay." The older man smiled. "It's a big room, but I don't reckon they can squeeze another bed in here too, so which one of you gets the chairs?"



"We'll probably take it in turns." Bruce shrugged.



"Make Clark have them." Jonathan suggested. "He's younger, and the way he sleeps he won't wake up like a pretzel."



"Dad." Clark was definitely uncomfortable with that.



Bruce could understand that, he wouldn't have appreciated people talking openly about his sleeping habits either.



"There's only room for two beds in here, son, and Haze isn't up for sharing." Jonathan was unrepentant. "Bruce has a business to run, and we've already imposed pretty heavily on his hospitality, so don't you give him any extra problems, okay?"



"Yes, Dad." Clark sighed heavily. "I promise."



"Good boy." Jonathan gave his son a reassuring hug. "Now, I'll be over to sit with you tomorrow morning."



"We'll see you tomorrow as well, sweetie." Martha added. She wandered over and pressed a tender kiss on Haze's cheek, as she tidied the blankets around him.



"And I'll be over in the afternoon." Lex promised. At the raised eyebrow from Clark he smiled, "Well, I don't normally get up until twelve when I don't have to work, and I'm hoping to make up some of the sleep I've lost over the past fortnight."



Clark visibly cringed.



"Clark, I'm just glad you're okay. I don't begrudge you a second." Lex insisted. "It's Morgan Edge I blame for all of this… Not you."



"I think we'd better head out." Martha decided, shepherding both Lex and Jonathan out through sheer force of personality.







"Whew." Bruce looked at Clark. "Your mother is one tough lady!"



"'Yeah." Clark grinned happily. "Now you see why Dad just says yes whenever she tells him to do something?"



"I think I would too." Bruce chuckled. He suddenly caught a whiff of himself. "I am going to take a bath before I turn in." He told Clark, dipping into the overnight bag for a few needful things. "Otherwise my nose is not going to be able to live with the rest of me by morning."



"It is a bit warm in here." Clark agreed. "I had a quick wash while I got changed, so I guess I'm good for the next few hours."



"Okay." Bruce looked at the still form in the bed, and back to the mirror image standing beside him. "I'll be in there," He pointed to the door set in the far wall, "Call if you need me."



"Right." Clark nodded, and perched himself on the edge of the bed so that he was practically touching Haze. "Be right here." He said softly.



* * * *





What?



Bruce roused to find himself laying chest-deep in moderately warm water.



Oh well, at least this time I woke while the water was still above lukewarm! I wonder what woke me though? When I do go off I normally doze for longer than that…



Standing up, he let the water cascade back into the bath, and grabbed up the towel from the stool next to it. While he dried, he let his mind drift. His head felt woolly and he guessed that it wouldn't be hard to get back to sleep at this rate.



And preferably somewhere more suitable than a half-filled bathtub this time?



Stepping into his pyjama bottoms and ignoring the top half since the room temperature in the medical suite was set relatively high, Bruce headed back into the main area. The instant he opened the bathroom door, he immediately picked up on the unmistakeable sound of someone crying. There was only one possible candidate.



Clark! Bruce's breath stalled in his throat. Had something terrible happened? Had Clark called for him, was that why he had just woken?



No, someone would have come in to fetch me. The monitor alarms would be going off, and the room would be swarming with staff…



Even so, something was very definitely wrong. Carefully, Bruce crossed the room, and slipped into the curtained sleeping area.



From the new arrangement of the furniture, Clark had pushed the two beds tight together, and obviously finding that they would not stay aligned on their own, had fastened them in position using a couple of sections of chair leg. The way the metal was stretched and twisted around the bed legs was a testament to the boy's immense physical strength.



Impressive… Despite the minor act of vandalism, and the loss of one chair, Bruce couldn't help but be amused by the youth's resourcefulness.



Clark lay on his side, his face nuzzled against Haze's neck, one arm over his 'twin'. The monitors seemed unaltered, and the paper trail showed that Haze's condition was unchanged. So why was Clark crying?



"Clark." Bruce leaned over the sobbing boy. "Clark, what's wrong?"



"He … he won't wake up." Clark sniffed. "I keep calling him, and he won't answer…"



"Haze can't answer you right now." Bruce reminded him. "But he's not getting any worse."



"But he's not getting any better!" Clark choked out the words.



"Oh, Clark," Bruce climbed up onto the bed and eased the distraught teen around until Clark was facing him. "Don't give up hope." He wrapped his arms around Clark, drawing the lad tight against him. "Don't ever give up hope. We have no idea of what Haze is capable of."







After a few minutes the intense sobs diminished into hitching gasps and the tense shoulders relaxed just a little. Bruce could feel the packed muscles, bunched tight as iron under his fingertips. He rubbed soothing circles over the smooth skin and waited for Clark to calm. "How long have you been working yourself up into this state?" He asked softly.



"Not long, I guess." Clark sniffed.



"Why didn't you come in and talk to me?"



"You were in the bath…"



"And?"



"I…"



"You thought I'd object?"



The dark head nodded.



"I wouldn't have." Bruce told him. "If you ever need to talk to me, about anything, I will do my very best to be there for you."



"Why are you being so nice to me?" Clark asked, in a surprisingly small voice. "I was pretty awful to you…"



"You were? When was that?"



"When I was Kal… I've started to remember more of that…"



"Clark, you also saved my life when you were Kal." Bruce reminded him. "And Haze's. Maybe you need to remember that as well, whenever you start worrying over what you did as Kal?"



"Oh." Clark seemed to be taking a long time to think that over. Finally, he shifted a little, not enough to take him out of Bruce's embrace, but enough that he could look Bruce in the eyes. "You didn't answer me before." He said nervously.



"Before?" Bruce's brain was not at its best by now. He was tired, not at all used to comforting confused alien teenagers, and the abrupt change of subject had lost him totally.



"When Dad and Mom arrived with Lex." Clark clarified.



"Ah." Oh, that…



"I asked if you saw me, or Haze, when you looked at me?"



"Yes, you did." He would have to remember that, wouldn't he? The boy's got a brain like a steel vault. Damn, you pride yourself on being an intelligent man, c'mon Bat-brain! Think of something smart, and make it quick!



"And?" Clark was not giving an inch on that.



"I'm not sure." Bruce decided to go for the honest answer. "Clark, you have to remember that I'm only human. I don't have any additional abilities. To be absolutely truthful with you, although there are one or two ways I could use to tell you apart, going purely on surface appearances I could probably be fooled if either of you tried hard enough."







"Really?" Curiously enough, Clark didn’t seem to mind that.



Bruce had half-expected his confession to meet with at least a little protest, but the boy seemed oddly content with the answer.



"I looked at Haze the first morning he was with us." Clark whispered. "I took him into our bathroom and got him to stand in front of the mirror with me." His voice deepened, becoming became soft and breathy. "And I couldn't tell which of us was which…"



"You couldn't?" Bruce gazed into the depths of Clark's eyes and speculated that it would be relatively easy to drown in those intense depths. Clark's lips were marvellously close. How would they feel if they brushed over his? Damn, he wasn't going to be seduced by this version too, once was enough!



"Nope." Clark nestled against him, the silky strands of his hair unbelievably sensuous against Bruce's arm. "Not until I moved my fingers, then I realised which one of our reflections was mine…"



"Fingers?" Bruce found himself trying to speak, but his brain was refusing to cooperate. There were only a few uses for hands that he could think of right now.



"My hand was on Haze's shoulder." Clark explained. He sighed, and snuggled closer, pressing against Bruce. "You smell good…"



"We'd better get some rest." Bruce muttered reluctantly, but preparing to force himself to move. A bit of distance might be just what he needed… Even if certain parts of him were protesting that there were interesting things that he could be doing right now, and with this youth. Bruce deliberately willed himself into a more publicly acceptable state.



"Please," Clark's voice was heavy now, as sleep crept up on him. "Stay?"



"Okay." Bruce reached around behind himself and engaged the safety rail on the outer edge of the bed. At least that way he wouldn't find himself falling all the way to the floor at some point in the night. Given Clark's substantial proportions, he really hoped that the youth was not a restless sleeper.





* * * *





Clark woke up with the nagging certainty that there was something he should be doing. He yawned and thought it over.



But what is it? He didn’t need to go to the bathroom yet and he wasn't thirsty, or even hungry just for once. A quick check reassured him that he wasn't floating.



Nope, everything seems okay. Clark tried to remember if he had set himself any mental reminders before he had gone to sleep?



Haze? He immediately looked across to where Haze was. There was no visible change in Haze's condition, at least as far as Clark could see, and he knew he could see a lot more than anyone else would have. He listened, deliberately tuning out everything but the sounds of Haze's breathing and heart rate and was disappointed to find them essentially unchanged from the previous evening.



Is Haze going to die and leave me too, like my real parents did? The thought was no less frightening than it had been last night.



Haze! Reaching out his thoughts Clark mentally stretched himself to the limit and failed to obtain the comforting response. He slid one hand along the sheets and wrapped his fingers around those of his 'twin'.



Come back to me! He called with his mind. Don't leave me Haze! I need you! The sheets pulled slightly over his bare legs and chest, as the arm around his waist shifted.



Arm? It began to occur to Clark that he was not alone, and that this could not be Haze's arm as he could already see exactly where Haze was.



I'm in bed with someone. Someone other than Haze… The concept buzzed around his head for a few microseconds, but even first thing in the morning, Clark's thought processes were well above those of a human.



Is this good? He considered the sensation of warm human spooned against his back, and decided it was. The weight of a well-muscled forearm around his waist was good too, and the sounds of slow even breathing were soothing. Clark inhaled deeply, rapidly recognising the subtle blend of scents that he had already memorised as 'Bruce'.



I'm in a bed with Bruce? Clark's eyes snapped open wider at that realisation, but he made certain that he did not move anything else, or vary his own breathing rate.



Bruce is in bed with me! If the other man did not detect what was happening, this could go on for a while, and Clark wanted that, he wanted it very much. He might be relatively inexperienced, but already he knew enough about himself to determine that what he was seeking from Bruce was more than simple comforting. He and Haze were like enough in their tastes, and Haze's mark was all over this man… Perhaps…?



Clark frowned. This was also the Batman, and the Bat would never go for that.



Unless… What was it Bruce had let slip last evening? 'I could probably be fooled if either of you tried hard enough.' A grin started to spread across Clark's face.



How hard can I try?