Code of Ethics
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Clark had no idea why he had been sent to cover the fundraiser. After all, events like these were usually private affairs, where fortunes were pooled together to be gambled on politics, with the press informed later through leaks, if at all. The Daily Planet hadn’t been the only newspaper invited along: Clark recognised Julie from the New York Times, and Dean from CNN, among others, and they all seemed equally bewildered. Wayne Enterprises, usually notoriously neutral in national politics, was forming a SuperPAC.
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- Part 1 of Code of Ethics
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Translation into Vietnamese: https://phatdinhatuy.wordpress.com/2021/07/30/code-of-ethics-manic_intent-superbat/
After Ground Zero in Metropolis, Bruce read a lot of science fiction. He’d never particularly bothered with the genre before: even after retiring as the Batman, it wasn’t as though Bruce had very many hours in the day to devote to stories about imaginary alien civilisations and spaceship battles and evil robots. Life was strange enough, or so he had thought. Then life itself had turned into science fiction, and standing outside the blast zone, comforting a child, Bruce had felt small for the second time in his lifetime, small and powerless and utterly helpless.
Series
- Part 2 of Code of Ethics
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Bruce was stalling. Clark knelt in the tub of his apartment’s tiny bathroom, arms folded on the ceramic lip, hiding his grin, glasses balanced further on the edge, watching as Bruce studied the sink and the mirrored cabinet as though it held the secrets to the universe. Bruce’s suit jacket was somewhere in the living room, and his blue shirt was rolled up to his elbows, but he was still far too dressed up for what Clark had thought was an obvious proposition.
“Bruce,” Clark prompted, as seriously as he could. It was proving surprisingly hard to keep a straight face when naked and chest-deep in warm water.
“I’ve always wondered,” Bruce said mildly, without even looking over, as though both of them were having a casual conversation over lunch. “How the hell do you shave?”
Series
- Part 3 of Code of Ethics
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“You’re late.” Bruce told him, feigning a little scowl. “I sent you a text an hour ago.”
“Some of us have real jobs.” Clark tried his best to sound nonchalant. Bruce had clearly been waiting for him since a dinner engagement: he was still in a beautifully made tux, slim-fitting, bow-tie and all, the sharp line of his cuffs cut against gorgeously soft-looking white gloves. Clark was glad for the wool of his coat, as his trousers grew tight. Bruce would’ve made fun of him for that.
“Don’t I own the Daily Planet? Maybe the editor, whats-his-name, should just assign you to me full time. The Wayne Desk, they could call it.” Bruce smirked as Clark crowded him against the rail, circling an arm around the small of his back.
Series
- Part 4 of Code of Ethics