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Clark opened the door of the hospital room. Inside, it was quiet, save for the even beeping of the heart monitor. The lights were turned off, and the glow of the setting sun streamed in through the gaps of the blinds. It smelled clean and sterile, with a whiff of floral from the many bouquets residing on a side table beside the bed.
In the bed lay a large bandaged man. Bruce had been hit by a rogue piece of concrete only hours earlier. Clark was saving citizens from the crumbling building. Bruce was in his citizen identity, helping to evacuate people from the disaster. He’d run out into the street, ushering a mother and her son, when the rocky chunk of building struck him in the chest. He’d crumpled to the ground, and the next thing he knew he’d woken up in the hospital and left in a chest wrap and a neck brace.
“Mmn… Clark?” Bruce’s faint voice made the standing man jump. The tension in Clark’s shoulders dissolved, if only slightly. He stepped closer to Bruce. Clark’s large hands clutched a bouquet of flowers, fingers idly worrying at the stems in his grasp.
“Hey. How’re you doin’?” Clark gave him a small smile. Bruce grumbled.
“‘M fine. You don’t need to worry. I’ve got to be out of here by tonight for patrol anywa-”
“Oh, absolutely not! Golly gee, Bruce, you’re gonna kill yourself!” Clark’s eyes widened in alarm behind his glasses.
“It’s nothing I haven’t been through already. I can’t just sit around, Clark, Gotham needs me.”
“I need you, Bruce.”
The silence following his words was oppressively loud against Clark’s superhearing.
Clark’s face flushed. He cursed his stupid mouth for making him sound so pathetic, and his stupid brain for not thinking before he spoke. The brunet turned away from the man in the bed.
“I’m sorry. I should go.”
“Do you mean it?” Bruce asked softly.
“I-I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Heat of the moment, I guess.” Clark glanced back at Bruce, eyes sad and pitiful like a kicked puppy.
“That’s not what I asked. I don’t care if you’re embarrassed, I want to know if you meant it, Clark.”
Clark took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders as if it would make his voice shake less.
“Yes. I did. It’s just.. you’re always throwing yourself in the way to protect others. It’s like you have a death wish! You’re reckless, and so smart, yet so stupid when it comes to things like that!” Once he started, Clark’s true feelings spilled out of him like water.
“And I guess I’m just scared that one day you’ll do something and I’ll… lose you.” The Kryptonian ran a hand over his face, trying to hide the glistening of his eyes at the thought.
“Clark… I had no idea you felt that way. I’m sorry I cause you so much grief.”
Hearing Bruce’s words, Clark gave a wet laugh, sniffing and wiping his eyes.
“Would a kiss make you feel better?” Bruce smirked.
Clark laughed again.
“Even in a neck brace, you find the energy to be a flirt.”