Spockvarietyhour: like this but in flight

spockvarietyhour airyairyaucontraire

broosepayne

Superman introducing Battinson Bruce to his parents though.

Ma and Pa Kent open the door, ready to meet their boy’s new bf, but it’s only Clark on the porch.

Clark: :D

Ma: Hi, honey. Where is your boy?

And then, peeking around the door frame, is Bruce in a suit and long wool coat, gaunt, squinting against the sun.

Bruce: hi it’s nice to meet you I’m Bruce

Pa: Oh, you didn’t have to get all dressed up to meet us!

Bruce: Mybutlermademe

Ma: Butler? Mercy, Clark, where did you find this one?

—

Clark disappears into the kitchen to help Ma with dinner, leaving Bruce and Pa sitting in the front room watching a baseball game. Bruce is sitting in an armchair, stiff as a board, anxiety level 100.

Pa: So Clark tells me you do the same sort of thing he does? Swoop around and help folks and such?

Bruce, blurting out the first thing that comes to mind: I can’t fly.

Pa: Wh—Okay?

Bruce: I am a bat but I can’t fly. Not without my Wingsuit.

Pa:…

Bruce, realizing what he just said: never mind

Pa, turning back to the tv: So how about them Yankees?

—

Ma: And this is our chicken coop. It’s a little musty, but Clark comes by to help tidy up once a week.

Bruce: *observing*

Ma: There’s this got-dang coyote—

Bruce, pointing at the corner: The coyote that’s been eating your chickens is burrowing under there. Reinforce it.

Ma:…I love you.

—

Pa: So what’s it like in Gotham?

Bruce, hunching over: The city is overrun with crime. Darkness lurks in every corner. We have an average twelve days of sun a year. Recently there has been a noxious cloud of gas hanging over the city center. I perch myself on my tower to observe. I become part of the building. I am a gargoyle.

Pa:…

Pa: Do you like living there?

Bruce, whispering fiercely: iloveit

—

Clark, flying Bruce back home: My parents love you.

Bruce: okay

Clark: They’re convinced you’re a cryptid that’s latched onto my soul, though.