Work Text:
Diana would never understand Man’s obsession with secrecy.
It took her a while to fully comprehend secret identities, and to learn that the others wanted to keep them hidden, even from each other. The concept was very important to the other Justice League members—except J’onn—so she tried her best to accommodate them. Clearly, it was something that held more weight than trusting each other with their lives in battle.
It was one of many cultural differences, and Diana accepted their wish for discretion. She avoided asking for details after watching her teammates awkwardly try and answer her questions without revealing something they were obviously keeping close to their chests. Food preferences, she found, were allowed to be discussed, but careers were not. Stories about loved ones were sometimes readily volunteered, but names were almost always omitted.
Superman tended to be extremely private. He was, of course, no Batman; everyone was more talkative than the Bat. But while Superman engaged in conversations with the whole team frequently, he never revealed anything personal. He acted as if he had an image to maintain, even when there were no civilians or villains around.
Which was why, when Superman showed up feverish, disoriented, and frantic to the Watchtower, Diana was a bit taken aback.
“I’m—I can’t—” Superman stuttered, agitated. His hair was in a state of disarray, soaked with sweat that Diana had never even seen on him after hours of fighting. He tried to keep his composure, but his shakiness was visible even from the few feet he was keeping between himself and the few League members gathered. “Please. I need—I don’t know.”
His eyes focused on Batman briefly. They unfocused again after only a few seconds, his mind clearly having gone somewhere else. Wrapping his arms around his chest, Superman rocked back and forth.
“We’ll help you, Superman,” Diana said with conviction, hoping to calm him or at least bring him back to the present, but he showed no sign of hearing her.
“Right, but—how do we help him?” Green Lantern asked from beside her. “He doesn’t look good. We’re sure it’s not Kryptonite?”
“No,” Batman spoke up. Superman’s head rose to look at him again. “He doesn’t react to Kryptonite like this, but we can’t rule it out. I suspect it’s magic. J’onn, could you enter his mind and try to identify the source?”
“Yes,” J’onn agreed, stepping forward. “I will try.”
Telepathy didn’t exactly need backup. Diana and the others waited. As they did, Superman only became more shaky, slowly sinking to his knees.
“I see,” J’onn finally announced. “It is magic. His mind is jumbled, but from what I can gather: the cure is sex.”
“What?” Green Lantern’s voice was higher than Diana had ever heard it.
“I do not understand the act to be the same as it is on Mars,” J’onn said, “but, in Earth terms, Superman needs to have sex, and then he will recover.”
Everyone went silent for a long moment.
In front of them, unaware of the dilemma they were all facing, Superman whimpered. Diana wondered if it was out of pain or arousal.
Then: “I’ll handle it.”
Diana and Green Lantern both turned to look at Batman in surprise.
“What! What do you mean you’ll handle it?”
“I think what Green Lantern means is, maybe we should find someone Superman… knows for this,” Diana added carefully because Batman looked offended. “I would volunteer as well”—she wasn’t a prude and she had no trouble having sex with Superman if it meant his recovery—“but he’s not in his right mind and there is a question of consent, even if it will save him.”
“I am someone Superman knows,” Batman argued.
“Dude, she meant, like, biblically,” Green Lantern said, with emphasis, before turning to Diana. “Maybe we should call in Lois Lane? I mean, she’s the only person he’s ever seen with regularly.”
“I am seen with Superman regularly. I am someone Superman ‘knows biblically,’” Batman interrupted, irritation clear in his voice. “We’re married. I think I can take care of my husband.”
“What,” Green Lantern said, sounding as if he’d just discovered his whole life was a lie.
“Ah,” J’onn said, sounding as if he’d just gotten confirmation of something he’d long suspected.
Diana took the information in stride. She had studied how relationships worked here and she knew marriage was considered the most significant of them all. Till death do us part.
“You’re married?!” Green Lantern threw his hands about in every direction. “To each other?!”
Batman would never lie about such a thing, Diana was sure. Even without knowing they were entangled, it had always been clear that Batman cared for Superman strongly. Still, she reached for her lasso.
She held it out expectantly. Batman looked at it, hesitation in his stance, before he placed his hand on the rope. When he spoke, his words didn’t come out smoothly, but they were genuine.
“Superman and I have been married for two years. I—love him. He knows me. I will take care of him.”
Diana nodded and lowered her lasso. That was all she needed to hear. Green Lantern’s mouth was wide open. She ignored him. “Good. Now, will here do or shall we move you two somewhere else?”
“I’ll take him home,” Batman decided. He moved to Superman’s side and ran a gloved hand through his damp hair. Superman leaned into the touch immediately, swaying on his knees. “Superman.” No response. “Kal.”
The new name had Superman—Kal—looking up. His eyes were still unfocused, but his gaze planted firmly on Batman. When he spoke, his voice was weak and desperate. “B? B, I need—”
“I know,” Batman said, softer than Diana had ever heard him. She wondered if he meant for the rest of them to hear it. “I know, Kal. Let me take you home. Can you stand up?”
Kal didn’t answer. He grabbed at Batman’s hips, for leverage, Diana assumed. Then, he pressed his entire face into the crotch of the Batsuit. Ah. Not for leverage.
“Oh my god,” Green Lantern whispered.
Batman, for his part, didn’t react beyond gripping Superman by his underarms and hefting him up over his shoulder.
“Oof,” Superman offered from his new position, his head lolling against Batman’s back. Red boots dangled at Batman’s waist.
His strength was impressive for a human. She’d seen it in battle and during training, but Diana had to commend his ability to pick up someone as big as Superman in one smooth motion.
Batman turned to face Diana and the others. He looked, unmistakably, like the exasperated husband he’d just revealed himself to be. “I’ve got it fr—Kal. Hands.”
“B,” Kal whined. She couldn’t see his face, but his legs kicked a bit in protest and she imagined him pouting.
The distinct sound of a hand slapping against armor echoed through the room. Batman’s lips thinned into a line. Diana had exactly one guess for which body part had just been hit. She hid her smile behind her hand.
“Behave,” Batman hissed. Then, to the rest of the room: “We’re going. I’ll update the team later.”
Diana laughed out loud. He certainly had his hands (and shoulders) full. “Best of luck, friends.”
Batman began to walk away, his steps heavier with a large alien in his hold.
“Need you so bad, B,” Kal said, not even attempting to lower his voice. “Need you out of this damn suit so I can see you, and touch you, and get my hands on your—”
“Kal. Shut. Up.”
“Can’t. Can’t, can’t, can’t,” he repeated as a sort of addled chant as they exited the room. He sounded less lucid, more pained. “It burns. I need—I need….”
Diana almost missed what Batman murmured soothingly in response, his annoyance gone in seconds: “I know, I know. I’ll take care of you, I promise. Let’s get you home.”
He kept talking, trying to comfort his husband as he walked out of her hearing range. The words weren’t meant for her anyway.
“So,” Green Lantern said, “I am really going to need confirmation that we all just saw what I think we just saw.”
The worst thing about finding out Batman and Superman were married (married!) was finding out Batman and Superman were married with only Diana and J’onn as the other witnesses.
Hal loved to theorize (others classified it as gossip, but he considered it good-natured hypothesizing), and while Diana and J’onn were very admirable heroes, they weren’t the best for speculating about people’s private lives.
And, listen, Hal respected his teammates and their privacy! He wasn’t going to ask anything too invasive to their faces, but, sue him, when you find out that Batman and Superman are secretly married, you want to talk about it!
But when he’d asked J’onn if he thought they were cuddlers, he’d only received a blank stare in response. And when he’d asked Diana who she thought had proposed, he’d had to go over the entire culture surrounding engagements and then weddings and… okay. It hadn’t been a bad conversation, he enjoyed talking with her, but they got away from the topic of Batman and Superman unbelievably quickly.
Still, the topic never left his thoughts.
He’d seen Superman mouth at Batman’s bulge.
He’d seen the patch of saliva left on the cup of his armor.
Hal now knew what the sound of Batman’s ass being slapped sounded like.
It echoed in his mind.
Listen, man. He had to talk about it.
A day after the extremely workplace inappropriate events transpired, Batman messaged the Justice League: Superman has recovered.
Which Hal understood to mean: We fucked for 24 hours. I, Batman, fucked the sex spell out of my husband, Superman. We fucked. We fucked nasty. We’re both absolute freaks in the sheets.
Or something like that.
“Dude, what are you talking about? All he said was Superman recovered and scheduled a meeting. Pretty procedure stuff.”
“No!” Hal protested. He’d been waiting for this monitor duty shift with Flash just so he could talk to someone who’d understand. Clearly, he wasn’t going to find that here. “You don’t get it. Supes was lapping at his dick. In front of me.”
Flash made a skeptical noise.
Squawking in offense, Hal threw his hands up to emphasize his point. “He did, I’m telling you! And he smacked Batman’s ass! J’onn and Diana were there too! We all saw it!”
“Yeah, okay,” Flash said, disbelief still in his voice. “I think you’re exaggerating, but okay. Alleged ass slapping aside, so what if they’re married? I mean, that makes sense to me. They do argue like an old married couple.”
“So what? So what? So everything. Did they meet in costume or out? How long have they been together? Bats said they got married two years ago which means they must’ve been together sometime before that. Do they live in Metropolis? Or in Gotham? Are they cuddlers? Who proposed? I need answers!”
Flash blinked at him. “Why? Why does any of it matter?”
Hal opened his mouth, ready to say… to say… Finally, he came up with: “I’m nosy.”
“That much is obvious,” Flash agreed. Which. Okay. Fair. “Did you think you had a chance with one of them or something?”
“What,” Hal said. “That’s—I—What!”
“Well, most people don’t care this much about other people’s relationships. And crushes on cowork—”
“No. No. I just mean—” Hal paused.
There was something deeper to it. Not that he was interested in Superman or Batman, like, okay, would he have minded being on either side of the dick licking? No. Who wouldn’t?
But really, seriously, deep down: “It’s weird, you know? Knowing people like us can… fall in love and get married and, like, stay married. I never thought our lives were made for commitment like that. Did you?”
Flash didn’t respond immediately, but it looked like he was really thinking about it, which was better than him laughing in Hal’s face for voicing his insecurities. He let out a heavy sigh, and then admitted, “I don’t know. Maybe. With the right person.”
“Do you believe in that? The right person?” Hal wasn’t sure if he did. He wasn’t sure if he could be the right person for anyone.
Flash shrugged. Then, lighter, “Clearly Supes and Bats do.”
Hal barked out a laugh in agreement. “If Batman can find someone who loves him for him, anyone can.”
“Hey! It could be that Superman is the emotionally constipated one in the relationship!”
They looked at each other for a second and then burst out laughing.
Barry accepted it when Green Lantern said that Superman and Batman were married.
Barry accepted it when GL said that Superman got hit with a sex spell.
Barry didn’t really believe it when GL said that Superman licked Batman’s dick and slapped his ass in front of three other people. Come on, it was Superman. Horny or not, he doubted he’d be so handsy in public.
Though, with the way Superman seemed unable to make eye contact with any of them at the next League meeting, Barry was starting to believe it. Well, not the licking his dick or slapping his ass part, obviously, but the general idea of him doing something a little vulgar he was embarrassed about. He was the wholesomest hero by far. He’d probably stutter just at the idea of a ridiculous magical sex spell, let alone being hit by one.
And right now? The poor guy’s face was bright red.
Batman looked stoic as ever as he stood beside him. In his deep, gravelly voice, he deadpanned: “Aphrodisiac-induced delirium.”
Superman hid his face in his hand.
Batman continued without glancing at him. “I originally believed this phenomenon was specific to Poison Ivy. Eventually, however, Scarecrow, Nocturna, and others began using various methods to cause aphrodisiac-induced delirium as well, but I assumed it to be Gotham-specific.”
“Wait,” Barry interrupted, risking the wrath of the Bat, but, c’mon, he was a scientist. “Can you define aphrodisiac-induced delirium for the class?”
Batman inclined his head in acknowledgement instead of glaring, which counted basically as a high-five in Bat terms. “Aphrodisiac-induced delirium is a state contracted after exposure to certain chemicals or forms of magic. It causes the subject to have an intense need for sexual activity to the point of both mental and physical incapacitation. In many cases, sexual intercourse is not always required as treatment, but physical and/or sexual touch from a partner are necessary to relieve the subject. In some cases, aphrodisiac-induced delirium can be fatal if left untreated.”
“Huh,” Barry said, wrapping his mind around it, “and I thought fuck-or-die was just a Star Trek thing.”
“It’s not typically as dire,” Batman clarified. “Some versions fade with time, some are eased with autoerotic stimulation, but it’s not a comfortable feeling, and can be extremely painful for the subject. I’ve dealt with it in Gotham numerous times without long lasting harm and detailed plans in place of my contracting it.”
He considered asking for details on Batman’s numerous personal experiences. He decided against it. Around the table, everyone else stayed silent too. Barry wondered if they’d all had the same thought process. Well, everyone except Superman, who seemed very interested in staring at the table and keeping his face completely frozen.
“Last week, there was a similar event in Metropolis. Maxima hired an alien sorcerer to put a spell on Superman, in an attempt to get him to mate with her. As these instances of aphrodisiac-induced delirium increase, the League needs to be more proactive in our precautions, especially due to our superpowered members whose delirium could prove dangerous to civilians.”
Oh yeah, Batman totally skirted over that one. Barry raised his hand again and tried to look completely innocent and confused when Batman nodded at him again. Ha. Sucker. “Wait, so, how did you deal with Superman getting aphrodisiac-induced delirium?”
GL snorted next to him. Diana hid a smile behind her hand. Superman’s blush returned tenfold. He exchanged a look with Batman, who pressed his lips together tightly.
There was a long pause. Barry continued to bat his eyelashes sweetly.
Slowly, Batman straightened. In a more careful tone than the brusque one he’d been using before, he said, “Superman was able to evade Maxima and head to the Watchtower where I and a few others met him. He was clearly disoriented and J’onn was able to find the source to be aphrodisiac-induced delirium after entering his mind.” He paused again, gaze sliding towards Superman. “I… elected to provide his treatment myself. Due to our marriage.”
“SEE?!” GL shouted, drowning out everyone else’s reactions to the news. “I told you! And you! And you! And nobody believed m—”
“Hn.” Batman frowned, then looked at Superman. “I knew he’d tell everybody.”
“Well,” Superman said, still looking embarrassed, “we were going to tell you all eventually, but we obviously weren’t planning for it to come out like this and”—he turned to implore big, guilty, round eyes at GL, Diana, and J’onn—“I need to apologize for my behavior that day. It was completely inappropriate, and I’m sorry if I made any of you uncomfortable.”
Diana waved her hand. “Do not apologize. You were in distress. There is nothing to forgive.”
J’onn nodded his agreement. “Your apology isn’t needed. Frankly, I do not even comprehend how your version of sex works enough to view your actions as ‘inappropriate.’”
“I, for one, am scarred for life,” GL volunteered loudly. Barry elbowed him, and he smiled sheepishly. “Nah, Supes, it’s fine. You couldn’t help it.”
“Well, I appreciate it.” Superman coughed awkwardly, shifted his attention to the rest of the room. “So, yes, Batman and I are married. We ask that you keep this within the League. We trust you all, but it’s information we don’t share lightly and don’t want public. I’m sure you can understand that.”
Barry nodded solemnly, as did everyone else.
“To get back to the matter at hand,” Batman interjected, his voice back to its brusque state, “because of our marriage, Superman and I are both prepared to provide treatment for aphrodisiac-induced delirium if either of us requires it. The rest of you all need designated response partners as well. Ideally, you should come up with multiple options with at least one being in the League.”
“Wait, what?” GL asked. “Why in the League?”
Barry suddenly understood what Superman had found so interesting about the table.
He considered arguing against the plan too, or at least objecting to the way Batman just basically called them all pathetically single, but then he remembered the point about superpowered delirium being dangerous to civilians.
Barry thought about how he got when he was horny. He thought about how he got when he was hungry. He thought about how he got when he was tired. And then he thought about how he’d act if he was acting horny, hungry, tired, and delirious… with superspeed.
Yeah… he couldn’t really argue with that.
“Multiple reasons. For one, we go on missions in space regularly,” Batman responded evenly to GL’s incredulity. “If you’re isolated with the League and contract aph—”
“Oh my god, can we at least get an acronym for it?”
Batman ignored him, and then started handing out pre-agreement contracts titled: APHRODISIAC-INDUCED DELIRIUM CONSENT FORM.
Barry sank further into his seat as he contemplated which of his colleagues—who he was currently in the same room with—he’d be most willing to have sex with. And, worse, who’d be most willing to have sex with him. What if someone said, “No, I’d rather let you die,” straight to his face? What then?
This was going to be a weird meeting.
FIVE YEARS LATER
Everyone knew that Superman and Batman were married. When you join the Justice League, it’s practically announced at orientation. Hey, welcome, work together as a team, try not to kill anyone, Superman and Batman are married, the world’s watching you and judging us so be on your best behavior, yadda yadda yadda.
Well, sometimes you didn’t find out on day one. Sometimes, you’d be a new recruit, a month in, watching Superman and Batman yelling at each other while everyone else just watched, and you’d turn to the person beside you and whisper, “What’s up with them?” and they’d just roll their eyes and go, “Oh, don’t worry about it. They’re just, like, super married.”
Ollie, as a not-quite-founder but very-much-veteran-Leaguer, had been the person rolling his eyes many, many, many times. Still, he couldn’t fault Superman and Batman’s marriage. They worked well together (when they weren’t at each other’s throats and, often, even then) and their relationship let him and Dinah get away with their own inter-League romance easily.
And it was true. Superman and Batman were super married. Incredibly married. Ridiculously married. They had a weird style of not-quite flirting in front of people and if one of them landed in sickbay, the other one would be by their bedside until they got better. They had a specific way of looking at each other, fighting battles together, and talking almost as one.
They were married, like, more married than the average married couple. It was almost a given the longer you got to know them, so ingrained in both of their characters you would never be able to deny it. It wasn’t exactly common knowledge outside of the hero community, there were rumors about their relationship on the internet, but no definitive proof.
But if you were in the League, you didn’t ever need to see them kissing to know that they were committed to each other for life.
Which was why, when Ollie opened his phone to see the headline: SUPERMAN CAUGHT KISSING BRUCE WAYNE, he’d thought it was fake or clickbait. And then he’d scrolled down and seen a genuine picture of Big Blue locking lips with Brucie Wayne, of all people.
It was clearly taken at Wayne Manor, likely the night before at the Wayne Gala, something Ollie himself had attended. Brucie was in the same tuxedo he’d been wearing when Ollie had clapped his hand on his shoulder to greet him. He stood on a balcony and Superman floated beside it. They were kissing.
(There was definitely tongue.)
“Whoa,” Dinah said, when he showed her.
“Right?”
“Huh.” She grabbed his phone, zoomed in. “Definitely tongue.”
“Right?!” Ollie exclaimed.
“Guess Supes has a thing for Gothamites?”
“What?” he teased. “Are you trying to be next?”
She smirked a bit. “Well, now that we know they’re open….”
Okay, the idea of a foursome was intriguing, but…. “Are they open?”
Dinah tilted her head. “What, like Superman cheated?”
Ollie shrugged. “Well, Batman doesn’t seem like the type to share. Remember that time we thought he was gonna kill Lobo?”
“But Superman cheating?”
He shook his head. That would be beyond bizarre. “Yeah, you’re right. There’s definitely gotta be more to the story.”
Before this happened, Ollie would’ve estimated that Superman was the favorite of the married couple within the League. Everyone had at least some amount of hero worship when it came to him, he was friendly, and, c’mon, he was easy on the eyes too. Ollie could admit that without shame.
Batman had respect, but Superman was more well liked. Of course he was. He was Superman.
But when he and Dinah arrived on the Watchtower that day for the monthly League meeting—the big one that almost everyone on the roster showed up to—he wasn’t so sure about that favoritism anymore. There was a clear disturbance in the air.
In fact, Superman was getting glares. And, on the other side of the room, Batman was getting pitied looks.
“Oh, c’mon,” Ollie said to Hal and Barry before the meeting properly started and everyone was milling around. “You don’t really think Supes cheated on Bats, do you?”
“I mean, maybe he didn’t sleep with Bruce Wayne, but—you saw the picture right?” Barry asked.
“There was tongue,” Hal provided helpfully. “Shit, I feel bad for Bats. What if he found out at the same time the rest of us did?”
“Maybe he knew. Not all marriages are monogamous,” Ollie pointed out.
“Not all, yeah, we know what you and Dinah get up to,” Hal said, wiggling his eyebrows. “No hate, no shame. But them? Come on. It was cheating.”
Barry nodded. “Definitely cheating. Poor Batman.”
Hal sighed in agreement. “Poor Batman. And you know I don’t say that lightly. Didn’t know Supes had it in him.”
Ollie opened his mouth, to try and defend Superman a bit more, or to at least suggest that they should stop talking about the dude with super hearing in the same room as them, but was interrupted by J’onn convening the meeting.
Around a large, circular table, the glares were even more obvious. Superman looked clearly uncomfortable, avoiding everyone’s eyes, and not speaking up as much as he usually did. Ollie wanted to catch his eye, give him a smile, but he wouldn’t even look up.
On the other hand, Batman didn’t appear to be the heartbroken victim that everyone had been painting him as. He was as nonchalant as ever as they went over mission reports and statistics and logistical shit that Ollie couldn’t bring himself to care about with this much drama happening right in front of him.
He wasn’t the only one either, judging by the looks of things. J’onn and Diana seemed to be the only ones actually more interested in the contents of the meeting than the couple.
Batman, eventually, seemed to realize that no one was paying attention—or, more likely, he’d already known from the beginning, but had just finally given up.
“Alright,” he said gruffly, turning away from the projector screen. “I know you’ve all seen the picture circulating of Superman kissing Bruce Wayne.”
Eyes all turned quickly to Superman, who was watching Batman intensely.
“I will only say this once,” Batman continued. “Superman did nothing wrong. And while the League has no place in Superman and I’s private business, we were separated by the time the picture was taken. There was no infidelity involved. We’re getting a divorce.”
Someone gasped. Ollie raised his eyebrows in shock. A low murmur went through the room.
“Can you be serious?” Superman asked Batman, his voice wavering with anger. “We are not getting a divorce.”
Batman slowly turned his head to meet Superman’s gaze. They stared at each other for a long moment. Batman said, “Yes, we are. And I see you’ve moved on rather quickly.”
“Oh my fucking god,” Superman said.
Superman? Cussing? It was more startling than him cheating. Ollie caught Dinah’s eye. What the fuck, Ollie said with his eyebrows. What the fuck, Dinah said back with her blinks.
“C’mon, Supes, you can’t be mad at Bats for being hurt,” Hal interjected. Because he was Hal. “I mean, you’re the one who was kissing Bruce Wayne.”
“With tongue,” Barry added. Because, well, okay, because everyone saw that part.
“I—” Superman cut himself off and scowled. Deeply.
Honestly, Ollie felt bad for him. “It was just one picture. Look, I know the paparazzi and I know Brucie. It could’ve been out of context. Cheating, or moving on, or whatever, would be if Superman kissed first or kissed back! He could’ve just been surprised!”
“Yeah!” Superman said, sounding relieved. “Thank you! Bruce Wayne kissed me, not the other way around!”
The energy in the room shifted immediately. There were various “oh”s. Diana shifted, like she was about to get the meeting back on track.
Then: “Did you kiss him back?”
The room went silent again. Superman turned to Batman.
Batman repeated himself. “Did. You. Kiss. Him. Back.”
Superman paused. He looked at Batman, and then around the table, and then back at Batman. “Well,” he said.
Aaaaand back to the collective glaring.
“Uh,” Ollie offered, trying once more to be helpful. “To be fair, Brucie is a really good kisser.”
It didn’t help.
“Stop telling people we’re getting a divorce!”
“We’re either getting a divorce or you cheated on me.”
“Oh, right, like those are the only options. We’re not getting a divorce! And I didn’t cheat on you.”
“What do you call getting caught kissing another man in public?”
“I call it your idea of a sick joke!”
“Divorce, then. I’ll draw up the paperwork.”
“We. Are. Not. Getting. A. Divorce. Stop telling people that!”
“I thought you wanted to leave me for Bruce Wayne.”
“You are such an asshole.”
“Hn. So why not divorce me?”
“You know what, I have half a mind to! Maybe I should just be single—no Batman, no Bruce Wayne!”
“No Bruce Wayne? But I’ve heard he’s such a skilled kisser.”
“Then you can have him.”
“I think he’s more your type. You two could really have something together. Something you clearly never found with me.”
“Until about two weeks ago, I was perfectly happy with you.”
“So you admit it. You did cheat on me.”
“I am so close to strangling you.”
“Hey, um, guys?” Billy interrupted. He delivered a punch to one of the many robots swarming them. “Could we focus on strangling these guys?”
So.
Batman and Superman had always bickered like an old married couple.
Billy had learned that the first few times he’d worked with the League—and then he’d soon found out they actually were an old married couple. Everyone seemed to consider it evidence of their relationship, and Billy had too, but now knowing that they were on the verge of a divorce…
Maybe that bickering hadn’t been as good-natured as they’d all thought it was. Maybe it’d been the first warning sign of a relationship that wasn’t going to last.
Maybe love was only real for Victor and Rosa.
“They argued the entire mission.” Billy took a bite of his fruit cup, looked around the cafeteria in annoyance. At least both Superman and Batman had opted out of a post-mission lunch so he could bitch about them freely. “It was constant! Like, I’m sorry Superman cheated and Batman wants a divorce, but you’re superheroes! Can we focus?”
“Dude, that blows,” Elongated Man said from across the table. “Third wheeling exes, hooooo. Been there.”
“They aren’t exes yet,” Billy corrected, something compelling him to defend their relationship. “Bats keeps saying they’re divorcing, but he’s not like, actually putting his foot down. I think he wants Supes back. He’s probably just sore about him kissing Wayne.”
“Wouldn’t you be?” Booster Gold asked. He slurped loudly on his drink. “‘Cuz, okay, I’m a handsome guy, but if I saw my husband kissing Bruce Wayne? Even I’d feel a little insecure. And I bet Batman wears a mask for a reason.”
“Riiiiiight,” Huntress commented sarcastically as she passed by their table with an empty tray. “The problem is that Bats is ugly, not the betraying of the sanctity of marriage through cheating.” She scoffed. “Fucking idiot,” she said as she walked away, not trying to lower her voice.
Booster started sputtering out a protest, but Billy felt inclined to agree with her, not that he knew much about the sanctity of marriage. “Cheating is pretty bad,” Billy said. He knew that much at least. “But Superman kept insisting he didn’t actually cheat. I mean, he doesn’t even seem sorry about kissing Bruce Wayne. He’s kind of being… a dick.”
“Whoaaaaa,” Elongated Man joked, holding his hands up. “I didn’t know you had it in you, talking about Big Blue like that. Aren’t you supposed to be the sunshine of the team?”
Billy rolled his eyes. “I’m not above criticizing people, especially when they’re being immature.” He was the kid here, yet Batman and Superman were the ones acting like it!
Booster laughed. “I like it! Captain Marvel’s got some heat to him.”
Shrugging, he finished his fruit cup. “I just think if you fuck up, you should apologize.”
“And Supes fucked up big time,” Elongated Man agreed.
“Guess they were right,” Billy sighed. “Never meet your heroes.”
Dinah wasn’t really one for League drama. It could be fun to watch, but not something she really took sides in. She’d enjoyed the little show at the meeting—Superman’s “Oh my fucking god” and Batman’s “Did. You. Kiss. Him. Back”—but it’d been four weeks since then and everyone was still talking about it.
Mostly because Superman and Batman hadn’t let anyone forget it, not with their constant arguing, but that was easy for her to ignore. The two of them were dramatic on their best days and she lived with Oliver Queen. She could tune it out.
What she was having more trouble with was the hate campaign going through the League, a general anti-Superman sentiment that weaved through the cafeteria, monitor duty shifts, and even missions.
Now, Dinah was never against someone getting what was coming to them. But… this situation didn’t seem too fair. For a bunch of heroes claiming to protect, they sure had a mob mentality for an interpersonal issue that had nothing to do with any of the rest of them. Batman had even denied that Superman had cheated.
And, look, she loved Bats and she’d stick beside him if someone did him dirty… she just wasn’t sure if Superman had. Part of her couldn’t help wondering if the sudden loathing Superman was facing was unwarranted.
It was Batman and Superman’s divorce to deal with anyway, not the League’s.
Others didn’t seem to share that perspective, though. While Dinah, Ollie, Diana, and J’onn all treated him the same, she noticed that almost everyone else gave him the cold shoulder.
And, while she was trying to stay out of it, it’d been one month since the day Superman had been caught kissing Bruce Wayne.
One whole month and Superman had still spent the whole League-wide meeting getting glared at. People were actively avoiding him. Batman wasn’t, in fact, Batman seemed to be going out of his way to engage with him. Albeit, “engaging” was something more like “antagonizing,” but. Still. That was their shit to deal with.
Not the League’s.
So, after the meeting adjourned, Dinah watched as Superman looked out, alone, at Earth, shooed Ollie along, and joined him.
“Rough month?” she asked casually.
Superman slumped his shoulders as he chuckled in defeat. “You have no idea.”
“A divorce can b—”
“We’re not getting a divorce,” Superman said fiercely. He looked apologetic after, and then sighed. “My husband just loves beating dead horses.”
Well. Cheating was kind of a big horse to beat, if it even was cheating, that was. She was still kind of fuzzy on the details. But the guy seemed pretty deep in denial about any impending divorce. “Have you tried apologizing?” she asked.
“I am not going to apologize for kissing Bruce Wayne back! I wish I could tell everyone why I won’t apologize, so people would stop hating me and stop taking B’s side, but B thinks he’s hilarious—and, also, I may or may not have accidentally crashed the Batmobile, just a little bit—and now he’s punishing me.”
Dinah raised her eyebrows. “You crashed the Batmobile? His baby? And you’re alive? I’ve seen him pet it. You know he has Kryptonite, right?”
“It was an accident!” he defended. “And, you know, I think turning our teammates against me like this counts as cruel and unusual punishment.”
“I mean, I’m not turning against you,” she pointed out. “And I don’t think Ollie or Diana or J’onn are either. I think it’s more the rest of our teammates that are the issue, you know. Mob mentality. Assigning morality to interpersonal issues they’re not a part of. And, you know, being against infidelity.”
Superman grumbled something that sounded vaguely offensive under his breath.
Dinah waited.
“I didn’t cheat,” he said finally, exasperation clear in his voice, like he’d been repeating it over and over again. “And if Batman would just….”
“Does he know you didn’t cheat?” Dinah asked, trying to figure out a resolution. “Maybe if you explained it to h—”
“I don’t have to explain it to him! He was there!”
Huh. “Huh,” she said. “So you two are open. Hey, do you guys do couples?”
“What?” Superman asked, looking at her like she had just answered “A” to the question “What’s 2+2?”
She squinted at him. “He was there? Not cheating? Threesome…? Open…?” she added, walking him through it like he was a kindergartener.
“Oh.” His face went through a series of emotions, before he shook his head. “Um. What I meant was—” He paused. “Well. It’s not really my secret to tell.”
“To tell…?”
And then she thought about it: Bruce Wayne. Gotham. Didn’t cheat. Aren’t getting a divorce. “B thinks he’s hilarious.” Punishment. Not his secret to tell. He was there. B. B. Bruce. Batman.
She blinked at him. “No fucking way.”
“Oh no,” Superman said.
“No fucking way.”
“Oh no,” Superman said again. “Please don’t tell him I told you, it might make this go on for an entire year.”
Dinah threw her head back and cackled for a minute straight.
“That’s so funny and so fucked up, man,” she wheezed out after her laughter finally stopped. “I keep hearing people say ‘poor Batman.’ God, poor Superman! You married an asshole.”
Superman sighed. He looked resigned. “I did. I did marry an asshole. He’s my asshole, th—I did not think that through before I said it. Don’t repeat that.”
“You are so lucky I already laughed myself out,” Dinah told him. “I can’t believe Ollie and I have both kissed Batman. Maybe we should really start talking about that foursome.” She straightened up. “Seriously, though, poor you. I knew that couldn’t be the full story. And the bickering, it was real, but not real real. I was thinking if Batman seriously wanted a divorce he would ice you out.”
She got it now. Batman had been fucking with him.
“Diana and J’onn know,” he explained. “But no one else does. Obviously. And the League’s so large now, I don’t think B would feel comfortable telling everyone, but—honestly, someone else knowing feels good.”
“It is hilarious,” she admitted. “Also cruel and unusual. Don’t worry, Supes, I’ll handle this for you.”
“Dinah—?”
“Shhhhh,” she said, waving her hand at him. “I’ve got this. Justice, right?”
“Our meeting adjourned only thirty minutes ago,” Bruce said as he stepped into the meeting room he’d just left. “Who called another meeting? And for what?”
“I did,” Dinah said. “On your behalf.”
Bruce raised an eyebrow. He didn’t sit down. “Explain.”
Dinah waved her hand around the table. There were seats unfilled, but all the founding members and some of the veterans were there. Clark sat beside her. He caught Bruce’s eye, but turned his head before Bruce could figure out what he was thinking.
“Gathered today, we have your most trusted colleagues in the League. Bats, close the door?”
Bruce felt like this was a trap. He didn’t know how it was a trap, but he could tell it was a trap. He stared at her, and then, slowly closed the door.
“This doesn’t leave the room,” Dinah said firmly, to the room at large. “Batman and Superman will be trusting you with their secret identities.”
“What,” Bruce barked. He looked at Clark. Clark shrugged, looking smug.
“Because Superman has been such a patient husband this past month—”
“What?” That was Hal this time. “But he’s the one who cheated.”
“I didn’t!” Clark protested, for the thousandth time. Bruce still found it funny. “B. Tell them.”
Bruce just looked at him, as he had the other hundred times. Privately, he was filled with amusement. It’d never get old.
Next to Clark, Dinah pointed a finger at Bruce from across the room. “Yeah, B, tell us.”
Bruce frowned. That was different. “She knows.”
“I found out,” Dinah corrected.
Clark nodded quickly. “I swear I didn’t tell her.”
“Found out what?” Hal whined. “I wanna know too.”
Bruce rolled his eyes. It had been a pretty entertaining month. But… it was less fun if someone like Dinah knew. Diana and J’onn had been letting him get away with it with varying degrees of mild irritation to tolerance. But Dinah….
He supposed it could get old.
“Fine. You all agree to take this to your graves?” He looked around the table for nods.
It felt eerily similar to the time they’d announced they were married, only with a few more faces. And, admittedly, he had much more trust for all of them here now than he had those five years ago.
Truth be told, he didn’t have many hang ups about telling this group who he was. They’d saved his life a hundred times over, and he’d done his fair share of returning the favor. The others had all shared their identities without any issues. And while he was the resident paranoid member, it wasn’t about privacy or secrecy or safety anymore, he’d known that for a while.
If anything, honestly, it’d just been perfect for messing with them out of costume.
Alright. He’d find another way to entertain himself and punish Clark for nearly ruining the Batmobile later.
And, he realized, the reactions to the reveal would be enough entertainment to last a lifetime. He’d have to save and replay the security footage after—it’d be a good watch. Readying himself for the shrieks and accusations about to be thrown at him, he smirked, and then pulled off his cowl.