#not tagging bruce because he doesn't have any lines yet lol

[froizetta]

Since it's WIP Wednesday, I've decided to post an excerpt from a longer WIP to motivate myself to write it! If it's technically on the internet, I can't just not finish it, can I? Right??? Fingers crossed I can make this a regular thing with other WIPs...

So anyway, here's part of chapter 1 from my early-career superbat identity porn fic!

“The thing you’ve gotta remember,” Jimmy said firmly with a slightly overenthusiastic wave of his jack and coke. A little bit of liquid sloshed out onto the countertop. “The thing you gotta remember. Is.” He blinked. “Ah, cripes. What was it again?”

Clark absently took a sip of his own drink. The whisky was at least a pleasant burn in his throat, even if it wasn’t exactly his favorite flavor. “Gee, I don’t think I can help you with that, Jim.”

Jimmy beamed. “Oh yeah! The thing you’ve gotta remember is, that there’re plenty of fish in the sea.”

Clark couldn’t quite suppress the wry quirk to his smile. “Wow. That’s some original advice right there.”

“No, but for real though!” Jimmy insisted, slamming an emphatic fist on the table. “Just. So many fish. A whole ocean! Of women! And, uh, also not women!”

“That does sound like a lot of people.”

“Exactly,” Jimmy said, nodding sagely. “You’ve just gotta widen your net, is all. To more than, like, one fish-woman.”

Ah, yes. Clark was honestly a little surprised it had taken him five drinks to bring it up. Apparently, Jimmy had needed some Dutch courage before embarking on the ‘romance advice’ portion of the evening.

Clark could humor him on it, at least. “You mean Lois?” he asked.

“Yeah I mean Lois! Don’t get me wrong, Lois is great. But she’s just one fish,” Jimmy said emphatically. “Like, sure, maybe she’s a really cool fish. Like… Like koi or something. Koi are actually pretty amazing, did you know they—” He paused and then shook his head. “Wait, no, this isn’t the time for fun fish facts. What I mean is, just because koi are cool, doesn’t mean there aren’t equally cool salmon. Or tuna. Don’t let the koi blind you to all the…the really hot tuna around you. You know?”

Jimmy looked concerningly pleased with his increasingly labored metaphor. Clark charitably chose to blame this on the alcohol rather than Jimmy’s abilities as a writer. “Maybe you’re right, Jim. I guess it’s pretty silly to be so stuck on her, huh?”

Jimmy frowned. “Well, I wouldn’t say that. I think you guys would be great together, you know that.”

“I’m not sure her new fella would agree with you,” he said. Embarrassingly, the glumness in his tone wasn’t entirely feigned.

“Don’t be so pessimistic,” Jimmy said insistently. “We don’t know that it’s like that. Maybe it’s just a pity date?”

It wasn’t just a pity date, Clark was pretty sure about that. Lois had been wearing the perfume she wore whenever she wanted to impress someone. And yes, that was a creepy thing to notice, but he couldn’t help it, okay? Super-senses make a lot of things really hard to ignore.

He shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s none of my business anyway. I know she doesn’t see me that way, and that’s fine.” And it was. He knew that to Lois, he was just a coworker – and a bumbling, awkward, country bumpkin of one at that. Even though he definitely hammed up the act to create distance between Clark Kent and Superman, the real Clark Kent still wasn’t the kind of guy who would appeal to someone like Lois. She’d want someone classy and sophisticated. Someone like her.

Probably someone like whatever guy she was on a date with right now, in fact.

“And, I mean… it's Lois,” he added, as neutrally as he could manage. “She’s out of most people’s leagues. It’s not— I mean, I never really thought I had a shot with her, you know? So I’m not about to get all bent out of shape because of one date. Honest.”

Apparently, this wasn’t what Jimmy had wanted to hear, at least judging by the way his face fell. “What? No no no, that’s not what I— Look, I’m not trying to say you don’t have a chance there. In fact, I think she’d be lucky to date you. But what I mean is, it’s not the end of the world if she doesn’t see that. You’re an awesome dude! I just think you deserve to be happy, with or without Lois.”

“Oh,” Clark said, then blinked and ducked his head, taken aback by how hard that had hit him. Jimmy really was a great friend. He suddenly felt guilty for spending their evening together daydreaming about eating pizza on his couch. “Shucks, Jim, that’s…that’s real nice of you to say.”

“I’m not being ‘nice’, I’m being honest. Listen veeery closely, Clark.” Jimmy set his glass down and grasped Clark around the shoulders, looking him straight in the eye.

Clark tensed. “Um. What’s happening.”

“Shush,” Jimmy said. “You’re listening.”

“I am?”

“You are. Now focus and take this in. Really internalize it.” His gaze was a little unsteady, but still intense and undoubtedly sincere. “You – Clark Kent – are a bona fide catch.”

Clark couldn’t help but let out a snort of laughter. It would be easier to take Jimmy seriously if he wasn’t starting to slur his words. “A ‘catch’? Are we still on the fish metaphor?”

Jimmy blinked. “What? No, no. Look, you’re smart, you’re a successful reporter. You’re probably the nicest guy I know. And you’re tall, like…what, 6’1”? 6’2”?”

“Something like that,” Clark half-lied with an easy smile.

“Yeah, so. Tall. Trust me, as a short guy, that’s a big plus. Everyone loves tall guys. You’re, you know, the tall, dark and handsome type. Like Superman!”

His smile froze. “Oh?”

“Yeah! Chicks love Superman. Not saying you look much like him, of course—”

“Of course,” Clark agreed.

“—but you’ve got, like. A similar appeal.” He squinted up at Clark. “You know, I’m not the best judge for this type’a thing, but if I feel like you’d clean up real nice if you made the effort.”

“Hm. I dunno, Jim…”

Jimmy was insistent. “You could change up your style, maybe. You ever tried contacts?”

“I’m afraid they don’t really agree with me,” Clark said apologetically. Which was true, in a sense. The glasses were pretty integral to the whole secret identity thing, after all.

“Shame,” Jimmy said, finally letting go of Clark to lean back. But as he did, something over Clark’s shoulder caught his eye. He grinned. “Oh, hey, my first piece of evidence that you’re a catch: I’m 90% sure that guy is checking you out right now.”

“What?” Clark said and made to look behind him.

Before he could turn, Jimmy grabbed his face in both hands. “Shhhhh!” Jimmy said urgently, even though Clark wasn’t saying anything. “You can’t just look. That’s waaay too obvious.”

Clark was pretty sure Jimmy was being more obvious than looking himself would have been, but he stayed obligingly still while Jimmy peered over his shoulder at the mystery man.

“Okay,” Jimmy said eventually. “So I’m not great at telling when guys are hot, but I’m pretty sure this guy is hot. And, again, definitely into you. I’m 95% sure.”

“I thought it was 90%?”

“Sure, but I’ve accumulula… accumama…” He frowned and shook his head. “I’ve got more evidence since then, see? So I’m surer now!”

In retrospect, he probably should have insisted on Jimmy eating something more substantial than bar snacks over the last couple hours. “Sure, Jim,” he said gently. “It’s, uh, getting pretty late, though. Maybe we should head home soon?”

“It’s—” Jimmy squinted his watch and balked. “It’s only 10:30, so no way! I’ve got a new mission now, and it’s to wingman you with this probably hot guy. Trust me, I’m a great wingman.”

Clark raised an eyebrow. “Are you? What would you even do?”

“You know, the usual. Hey, have you met my friend Clark? He’s like 6’2” and a hotshot reporter at a big newspaper. And then I just slide out—” he made a slow swoop with his hand “—and just like that, bam! Take that, Lois! Clark’s got a hot date of his own!”

Clark raised the other eyebrow. “That’s…not particularly subtle.”

“Well, subtlety isn’t a part of the Olsen Wingman Experience. But it works!” Jimmy said brightly. “I even managed to wingman my ex-girlfriend while we were still dating, although that was mostly an accident. But it was still very effective. Thanks to that, I know for sure it works.”

“Oh!” Clark said. And then frowned. “Oh. I’m, uh. I’m sorry to hear that. Do you wanna talk about—”

“Nope,” Jimmy said firmly, decisively. “Tonight isn’t about my borderline traumatizing romantic history, tonight is about you. You and this totally hot guy who I’m, like, 99% sure is into you.”

“Mm. I see you’ve accumulated more evidence.”

“Yeah, actually! I—” Jimmy’s eyes widened. “Okay, crap. It’s 100% now. He’s coming over here.”

Clark blinked. He’d been half-convinced Jimmy had just been imagining things, but… “He is?”

“He is! Just be cool, okay?”

“Jim,” he began in protest, but before he could say anything else there was a presence at his back. Clark turned to greet the stranger. And stared. Because— Huh. Huh?

Either those whiskies had been a lot more effective on him than he’d thought, or that was Bruce Wayne leaning ever-so-casually against the bar next to him.