Need a no capes! AU where Clark is Just A Guy trying to help his folks keep their farm going. It’s not easy under the Luthors.
Having to sell their property rights because their farm is on a purchased land wasn’t an easy choice. But if Clark knows something, is that Kents don’t go down easy.
Once Thomas Wayne buys it from Luthor Senior, — Clark doesn’t know the specifics; He just heard the words “old college teammate” and “lost bet” and “fuck you, John” and put it together.
So, Thomas Wayne buys their farm. They have peace, for a while.
Except one day the man himself knocks on Clark’s apartment, switchblade smile bright and fraudulent. Clark quickly learns Thomas Wayne can either be your best friend, or your biggest fear.
“It’s really nothin’ personal,” Thomas shrugs. Maybe, to him, it’s a good apology. “Luthor just found out some…Nasty lies about me. And it’d really affect the cancer research fundraiser if they got out. “
People don’t fear lies, Clark thinks.
“So, your daddy ain’t answering me, and your mom threw a bottle at me when I went over there, so I figured you’re my last resort. I can’t buy if they ain’t sellin’, son.”
“We don’t appreciate being bought, Mr. Wayne.”
“Right, but the other alternative would be kicking ya’ll out on the street, and it’d make me feel like a real asshole,”
You already are, Clark wants to say, but decides it wouldn’t be a good idea.
“ So we have two options: Either you sell me the farm and everyone’s happy; Or you get the best bed at Gotham’s homeless shelter. I’m sorry, Clark. Really.”
He swallows an angry gulp. World’s strongest man and he can’t help but feel such sorrowful helplessness. “And what’s option 3?”
Thomas knows that’s a challenge, and knows Clark has a right to it. Something just clicks in the man’s eyes, thought. Clark isn’t sure he likes it. “Option number three…I deal with this my way. But you gotta do something for me.”
And that’s how Clark ends up babysitting infamously anonymous Bruce Wayne.
No paper touches him; He successfully evaded and escaped any journalist that ever approached, hunted, or tracked him down.
The man is awfully quiet, lilly pale skin glowing pink in Kansas sun. Clark studies the wide, impressive curve of his shoulders, surprisingly thick and strong for such a pretty thing.
The way his eyes are alert and focused and the color of watercolor rain. Mostly, he’s crushed by Bruce’s timidity. God, he’s so beautiful.
“Imma need a week and Brucie’s outta your hands faster than a devil in a church,” Thomas jokes, affectionately ruffling chestnut hair. Clark can see the resemblance, but not the relation. “You be good for Clark, ya hear?”
Bruce doesn’t give a verbal or physical answer. He seems awfully angry about something. He picks up his bags, storms past Clark and stomps off upstairs. He has a feeling this week will be hell for all of them.
“Well, you have fun! And Clark?” Thomas’ voice lowers, “You take care of my boy, now.”
“Oh, I will.”
It’s not a lie.
He’ll take care of Bruce so good he won’t ever want to leave.
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