A/N : I have this problem and it's called I can't even finish a story before I get bored, so I ignore the story I need to be working on for six months, thus causing me to never work on it ever. But oh well. At least I wrote this one shot.

It was never a surprise when someone said that they were awed by Superman.

He was godlike in his appearance, gentle in his nature, yet when danger arose, a fire surged in his eyes and he rose to defend his people.

He was…perfection.

The down side of being Superman was that most people couldn't see past the 'S.' They couldn't see the man he was inside. The man who just really loved Star Trek and vocabulary, who blushed from the roots of his hair down every time someone so much as mentioned anything sexual. Just a simple guy from Kansas who liked simple things.

Bruce mused this as he watched his partner flit across the Bat Cave. Moving like some bright bird of paradise, Superman rose in the air to examine the roof of the cave with apparent great interest. As a stubborn curl flopped over his forehead, he reached out a hand to run it over the slime covered ceiling, then withdrew it just as suddenly, blue eyes round and mouth twisting into a look of repulsion. After a moment, the look vanished and was replaced by one of curiosity. He trailed another finger over the cavern's roof, biting his lip ever so slightly.

Bruce turned back to his computer. The simple things. . .

"Have you ever felt this?" Clark called down to Bruce. "The ceiling, I mean."

"Why would I?" Bruce said, speaking dryly, though his lips quirked in amusement. "I can't exactly just reach my hands up to touch it, can I?"

"It's sticky. Or wet. One of the two." Clark let his body float down to Bruce's level. "Come on, let me show you." His hands pulled on Bruce's cape, trailed over his armored shoulders.

Bruce pulled away, lightly pushing Clark's roaming hands off. "I've got to finish this report, Clark." A pause. Then, gentler, "Clark. . . "

"B, come on, just a second. Feel the ceiling."

Except it wasn't about feeling the ceiling at all, Bruce thought, as he allowed Clark to lift him into the air, balancing slightly on those red boots. Clark's arms wrapped around him, tight and warm like he was the embodiment of the Sun itself, as Bruce tipped his head upwards to eye the rapidly approaching top of the cave.

"You see?" Clark whispered. His hand found Bruce's, pulling the leather gloves in a single smooth motion. Splaying Bruce's hand on the ceiling over his own, the Kryptonian's bronze fingers contrasting greatly with Bruce's fair skin, Clark went on, saying, "It's all moist. And cold."

"This is a cave," Bruce remarked, absentmindedly letting his head drop against Clark's shoulder.

"But look closer," Clark went on, ignoring his partner's comment. "You can see the tendrils of, what is that - silver? Something like that. It's just stunning, don't you think?"

Pushing aside his thoughts of "This is a rock we're talking about, Clark," Bruce followed the other hero's gaze. And, sure enough, he could see coils of some silver colored mineral twisting and flowing through the dark rock, glinting in the ethereal light that Clark seemed to give off. "It's beautiful, Clark."

Bruce let his eyes move from the rock to Clark's face. The high cheekbones and sculpted lips over the cleft chin, thick eyebrows set over the absolute bluest eyes, like the sky on a clear summer day, or the waters of the Caribbean, or…just Clark.

"Just beautiful."

Those blue eyes met Bruce's.

Hand still entwined with Bruce's, Superman leaned in to close the short distance between his lips and Bruce's. The Kryptonian was sweet tasting, like apples and peaches and freshly squeezed lemonade. His warm lips fit to Bruce's like pieces of a puzzle. Clark knew just what to do to make Bruce moan for him, knew just where to prod his tongue and how to move his body against Bruce until the other man just unraveled in his arms.

His right arm was just twisting around to graze down Bruce's back when the computer beeped.

"Damn," Bruce muttered, pulling away from Clark immediately.

"S'okay," Clark mumbled, cheeks flushed, but eyes bright and shining. He brought them down, red and black fabric swirling like smoke around them as they touched down to the cave floor. "We'll always have later, right?"

Bruce said nothing, but merely allowed Clark to kiss his lightly on his cheek as the vigilante led the way to the Bat Cave's main computer.

"This is Batman," he barked out as Clark settled himself in Batman's chair with a content look.

"Batman!" Wonder Woman's voice crackled over the speakers, sounding panicked and out of breath. "I'm so glad I got ahold of you! Where's Superman? There's a situation-"

"He's here with me," Batman interrupted, shooting a look at Superman, who was looking decidedly more concerned than he did a few moments ago. "What's the problem?'

"It's Luthor! He –Flash! Look out!" There was an explosion that sent static through the call. "Where - you two?! You need to – get – Metropolis under - " Another explosion, a scream and the call ended in a burst of crackles.

Batman was already headed towards the transporters, pulling on his cowl, with Superman on his heels.

"Damn," Batman hissed. "Why didn't we pick up on this?"

"We were distracted," Superman said quietly as the vigilante tapped on the control panel to get the teleporter started up.

"By rocks!" Batman snarled. "It's just –"

"Bruce."

Bruce stopped.

Clark took a step closer. "It's going to be fine. We'll be fine. It's just Luthor. We've handled him before. We can do this."

His voice was strong, but his eyes betrayed his doubt. Clark never was a good liar. . .

But Bruce decided to play the part of the optimist for once and met Clark's eyes with his white lenses. "We'll be okay." It was less of a statement, than it was a question.

"Yes."

The transporter started up as Clark leaned down to kiss Bruce again, gently this time, on the lips.

"Be careful, Bruce."

No, no, no, no, NO.

Superman rocketed over the rubble of Metropolis towards where Wonder Woman was straining desperately to lift a wall of concrete. With barely a flick of his wrist, the block was tossed aside and then Superman was cradling the body in his arms, wrapping the torn black cape around the broken frame in a weak attempt to warm it.

"Batman?" Clark's voice was hoarse from battle, now cracking in his terror. "B, please. Please no, please please please wake up. Don't be – " He cut off with a choke. "Bruce, please…"

Batman coughed, a bubble of blood forming at the corner of his mouth, then bursting a moment later. "Shh-shhh Clark, it-it's -"

"Bruce! We're- we're going to be okay!" Superman said wildly, casting an eye around to see Wonder Woman off to the side, hands over her mouth and eyes brimming with tears. "Diana, get-get a medic! Now!"

She didn't move.

Clark swallowed, pulling Bruce's body closer to his chest. "Medic! Medic! Someone help! Please! We need a –"

"Clark."

"Help!" Superman didn't mean to start screaming, but it happened and suddenly he was sobbing as Bruce weakly reached up to place a torn and bloodied hand on Clark's face.

"Clark," he managed to get out. "Stop. You can't. . . " Bruce broke off into a hacking cough. "It-it's all right."

"No it's not," Clark said thickly. "This isn't how it was supposed to happen. We-we were supposed to grow old together and die in each other's arms as we said how much we loved each other. We-we were supposed to go on and be happy and –"

"I am happy, Clark," Bruce breathed out, fingers twitching on Clark's cheek. Superman turned his head to kiss Bruce's inner wrist and breathe in Bruce.

"I'm happy, Clark. Happier than I've ever been, because of you, you giant doof. You've made my life so much more than just anger and desperation. I lo-"

"No," Clark said venomously, cutting the vigilante off. "You don't get to say that. Not now. Not for the last time. You aren't going to d-die." His voice caught on that last word and he clutched Bruce tighter to his chest, refusing to believe that the light was dimming in Bruce's eyes.

He could hear the sirens of an ambulance coming closer, closer. He could bring Bruce to them now, it would just take a moment, but he couldn't seem to move. He was rooted here to this moment, right here, right now, as Bruce. . .

"I love you so much," Bruce murmured as Clark shook his head again and again, not believing this, not wanting to see. . .

But then a final sigh of hair left Bruce's lips and his hand dropped and his eyes became cold and dull, still fixated on blue orbs.

Clark was frozen. Unmoving as he gripped Batman's body close to his own as the ambulance pulled up, sirens wailing, but then he was sobbing and screaming out cries he didn't know he had been holding in. Clark felt Diana's arms wrap around him and heard her voice tell him, "Kal, let go out of him," but he didn't, he couldn't. He just saw that building falling, and the center of his world trapped inside, and then grey eyes growing distant, disappearing into a world that Clark could not reach him in.

Gone.

"They say he's crazy."

"Crazy? Nah, man, he's ain't crazy. He's Superman!"

"Yeah, that's why he's crazy."

". . . Cosmic Boy does have a point."

Saturn Girl cast a look at the solitary figure behind her, silhouetted against the skyline of Metropolis.

"He doesn't look crazy," she said quietly, folding her hands in her lap.

"Most of them don't," Cosmic Boy told her, poking at his soup with a spoon suspiciously.

"I think he's nice," Phantom Girl declared. "He's always there to help us when we need it, and he's – " She looked nervously around, then ducked her head and whispered, " He's kind of hot."

"Whoa!" Chameleon Boy shook his head. "No, Phantom Girl, that's just weird. The guy's like, what? Over four hundred years old?"

"I heard he's over a thousand," Bouncing Boy chirped as he sat down heavily to Phantom Girl's right.

"Whatever," Cosmic Boy said sourly. "He's still just some creepy old guy. Probably has skeletons in his basement or something- "

"I can assure you, Mr. Krinn, there are no skeletons in my basement that I am aware of."

The entire group jumped to see Superman about ten feet away, staring at them with a cold glint in his eyes. His grey and black costume rippled over hard muscles as he walked slowly towards them. Aging had been kind to him, lightly gracing his face with lines over time, and a dusting of white hairs over his temple. Yet, he still exuded an aura of power that Metropolis knew all too well.

"Don't you have training to get to?" Superman asked coolly, cocking a thick eyebrow at them.

"Yes sir!" Saturn Girl cried, hopping up from her chair instantly. She grabbed Cosmic Boy's wrist. "Come on, let's just go, okay?"

Casting shifty looks at Superman, the cluster of young heroes stood as well and filed past Superman, heads down and breaths quick.

"Man, what a fucking weirdo," Cosmic Boy muttered as he and Phantom Girl rounded the corner.

Kal turned away, fists clenching at his side momentarily before he lifted his chin to the sky and breathed in, eyes closed. When he opened them, the city of Metropolis lay before him. Sharp buildings dominated her skyline, buildings that mashed together 20th century architecture and then newer designs of the modern age. Hover cars streaked past him, going way over the speed limit and, yep, there they were. The red and blue lights of the police, wailing and screaming their sirens for all to hear.

An alert beeped from behind him. The computer. As Kal crossed to it, the beeping continued until he pressed a button and expanded the monitor to the hover screen, bringing the readings in front of him in the air with barely a swipe of his hand.

The Sun readings. The temperature had spiked again, as was normal nowadays. The yellow star was growing more and more unstable every day, and it was all Earth's scientists could do to use the Legion of Super-Heroes, and by extension, Superman, to keep it at bay. Just a pop up there once and while when the data jumped into unnatural numbers again.

With a sigh, Kal lifted himself off the floor and up through the gap in the ceiling, up four floors, until he came to one of the Legion's side hangers. It wasn't that big of a deal to go up and make sure the Sun wasn't blowing itself up or anything. Just tedious, since the Legion was the only group qualified to survey the star, and since a majority of the Legion was under the age of twenty five, the novelty of travelling to the Sun wore off after the first time.

And that just left Superman.

Kal silently started up the teleporters, waiting patiently for the Zeta Beam to come online, barely moving except for the rapid tapping of his index finger against the control panel.

A nervous twitch. He'd have to work on getting that under control.

A monotonous male voice echoed through the hanger. "Ready to transport, Kal-El."

"Thank you, Brainiac 5," Kal said quietly, stepping onto the Zeta pad.

A blink of his eyes, a flash of light, and then he was standing on a hovering platform lined with holograms and machines, with a great purple shield encasing the whole structure, and the Sun right in front of him.

Sighing again, Kal moved over to the first hologram, carefully reading and rereading the data, then moving onto the next one.

He was on the fourth screen when the first flare started.

Solar flares weren't uncommon. They happened almost daily. They just never happened this close to the science platform.

This was a big one; it rocked the floating construction, sending Kal nearly flying through a row of translucent monitors if he hadn't caught himself last moment mid-air. Flying a few feet forwards, Kal had to wince for a second. Even he could feel the heat of the flare there, even through the thick protective shield around the platform.

The second flare happened a few seconds later, about the same size as the first, except much, much closer. It struck the left side of the purple shield, shaking the science platform violently, breaking several of the date reading machines as they crashed into one another.

And then the shield choose to fail.

It flickered, once, twice, then disappeared completely, leaving Kal a victim of the Sun almost instantaneously.

With a rush of air and a shout of alarm, the Kryptonian was dragged forward towards the great yellow star pulsing before him as if it was a living creature. Kal was quickly able to realign his senses and he righted himself in the air, shooting upwards and back several hundred feet until he could properly survey the damage.

The science platform and equipment were in ruins, burning in front of him, behind him, on all sides, in the Sun, everywhere. The star itself was shooting off small bursts of fire and heats all over its surface, like small bombs simultaneously going off, a hundred at once.

But then a large chunk of metal from behind him surged forward and knocked him towards the Sun. He was too close, it was too hot, he had to move, but he couldn't, he wouldn't move, why wouldn't he move?

Maybe. . . Maybe he didn't want to move.

Kal hit the surface of the Sun in a column of fire.

Clark Kent always knew his mother was going to die. But that didn't prepare him for when it actually happened.

When Lana Lang broke it to him over the phone, when she told Clark how she had gone to drop off some flowers, only to find Martha on the couch with a photo of herself, Johnathan and an eight year old Clark in her hands, Clark had felt like a piece of his heart was being ripped out of his chest.

Lois went about forty years later. She, too, had died peacefully in her sleep. It was a large funeral, with many politicians and people with big money attending, all coming to pay respects to the fallen reporter.

And Clark had mourned her, his first love that had never had a chance of working out. He had mourned her as he mourned the rest of his friends and family. John, Barry, Shayera. Oliver and Dinah, lost in a plane crash. Kara, who died saving the world. Diana, who vanished back into Themyscria after Steve Trevor, a colonel in the US Army, passed in the late 2060s.

Bruce was the worst. That was the one that had ruined him, the one that had wrenched out his soul and twisted him into something that was so achingly incapable of loving another being again. Every night he would sleep in Bruce's bed, breath in Bruce's scent until that died along with him, died along with Alfred, with the Bat Family, with the mantle of the Bat.

Amidst the flames, Kal-El of Krypton closed his eyes and breathed.

"Hey, Bruce?"

The man in question turned to shoot a look at Clark over a shoulder. "Yes?"

Clark only smiled at his lover's annoyed expression. He leaned forward to nuzzle Bruce's neck, inhaling him deeply. He loved how Bruce smelled. Under the sweat and expensive cologne, he smelled…dark, like a forest after a thunderstorm, or a musky old apartment full of secrets of lives passed, or a dark cave, just waiting to be cracked open and welcomed into the world.

"Okay. So maybe that last one was just a little bit corny", Clark thought to himself.

"What is it Clark?" Bruce snapped, patience wearing thin.

"Nothing," Clark whispered, peppering Bruce's shoulder with kisses. "I just love you so much."

Bruce rotated in bed to face Clark, visage no longer annoyed, but gentle, open, not at all an expression one would expect to find on the Batman's face.

Like always, Bruce said nothing, but drew Clark in close for a kiss, pressing every inch of his bare body against Clark's, as if this day would be the last one they ever got to spend together.

But this time he pulled back after a second, looked Clark straight in the eyes, and whispered, "And I love you, Clark Kent."

The Sun gave another almighty roar, a streak of fire launching itself out of his center and towards Earth, until it pulled back and settled, finally calming its surface and regaining its place as Earth's watchful protector.

A/N : I was heavily inspired by "Promises" by icarus_chained , as well as the song "Young and Beautiful" by Lana del Rey. Just a sad little story that was a product of my headcanon that Clark can go on to live to be at least six hundred years old.

I know the Legion is in the 31st century, but for the sake of this story, I placed them roughly five hunred years into the future instead of a thousand.

Hope you enjoyed! Or...maybe not enjoyed.

I hope you thought my writing was satisfactory.