Chapter Text
Clark Kent was a pretty optimistic guy. In fact, if you were to quote his best friend Lois, he was “unfuckingflappable”. There wasn’t much that got him down or at least, got him down for long. But all the cheerfulness in the world couldn’t keep Clark from telling the truth right now.
The truth was… In his six years of teaching, this had to be the roughest first day of school. Ever.
It started with a goddamn cliché: a missed alarm. The night before had been a bit of a rough one, a night full of graduate school applications and three-day old coffee. He dozed off around four AM and awoke to a flurry of texts and calls from Lois. One glance at the time told him — shit — that school starts in two and a half hours.
Now for most, two and a half hours was an ample amount of time to prepare for work. But for Clark, majority of that time was sucked into the capitalistic hell called a commute. He did not have the luxury of taking his time. He had to get from Metropolis to Gotham, and quickly.
To his credit, he got ready at a record time of eighteen minutes. To his dismay, he emerged from his tiny apartment with a razor nick on his neck and an empty stomach. Between the choice of making breakfast for himself or his cat Streaky, Clark naturally chose the orange cat’s wellbeing. After he piled into his beat-up off-white truck, the next two hours were filled with grueling rush hour traffic. He kept anxiously glancing at the time, his thick fingers clutching the worn steering wheel in a anxious manner. God, Lois was going to kill him —
Incoming call from Lois Lane.
Speak of the devil. Clark winced, noticing the vibrating phone on the passenger seat. With a heavy sigh, he answered: “I know, I know…”
“Where the hell are you?” Lois’s voice was a low whisper. It was clear that she was already in the classroom.
“I overslept, Lo. I’m sorry.”
“If you leave me alone with 23 five year olds, I will do terrible things to you.”
“Sounds like fun.” Clark replied jokingly. The silence that followed made it clear that Lois was not in the mood. In a meeker tone, he added: “Fifteen minutes. I swear.”
“Hurry. The kids are starting to show up.”
Clark groaned, tossing his phone aside. He put the pedal to the metal as he navigated through the heavy traffic. Unfortunately, it took twenty minutes. Not fifteen. By the time he made it to Gotham Academy’s parking lot, he was eight minutes late. Adjusting his tie, he rushed into the lobby of the prestigious school, smiling guiltily at the front desk assistant as he passed. He prayed to any God that would listen that she didn’t snitch to the head of school.
Approximately ten minutes after his expected clock-in, Clark finally made it to his and Lois’ classroom. Thankfully, there were only two kids who already arrived and both set of parents were still conversing with Lois. She gave him the look as he rushed to join the conversation, greeting the parents and his new students alike. He settled into his teacherly routine while drop-off began.
His class was an adorable bunch. Some were shy, others were bold. Clark let their childlike innocence soothe his frayed nerves like a balm. It felt like his morning was finally turning around.
Then, the door opened again.
Clark looked up in time to see a little boy enter. He had dark olive skin, piercing blue eyes, and curly black hair. There was a cool look in his gaze, his chin jut into a stubborn pout. An elderly man, impeccably dressed, entered behind him. Since Lois was still gabbing with a nervous parent, Clark took the charge on this new student. His large frame effortlessly maneuvered around the classroom, approaching with a smile.
“Hiya, I’m Mr. Kent!” He greeted. “You can call me Mr. K.”
The little boy doesn’t respond. Instead, his icy gaze trailed over to the elderly man. The man quickly jumped into the conversation.
“This is Richard.” Whoa. British accent, cool. With a regal air, the old man stretched out a hand as a greeting. “And I am Alfred.”
“Nice to meet you both.” Clark replied warmly. He took a moment to think back on the student files he read. Richard Wayne. In the application, it stated that he was not only adopted — but selectively mute as well. Normally, Gotham Academy wouldn’t accept a student like that (which was shitty in his opinion) but if Clark remembered correctly, his single father was some insanely rich alumnus. And around here, money talked more than anything. “Are you the grand—?”
“No.” Alfred’s answer was quick but gentle. “I am his butler.”
Jeez, a butler?! What was this: the 19th century?
“Ah.” Clark responded, nodding in understanding. The clientele of this academy were typically wealthy, but a butler — that was on a completely different level than a mere nanny.
Curiously, his gaze lingered at the door, wanting to catch a glimpse of Richard’s father. Alfred noticed, quick to add: “Master Wayne is overseas for a very important matter. He returns in a couple of days.” Alfred explained.
Clark’s lips twitched, wanting to frown. He didn’t know the guy but… What kind of father missed the first day of school? It was difficult not to judge, especially as he looked down at the quiet Richard. But before Clark could put his foot in his mouth, Lois arrived at his side.
“Hi, I’m Ms. Lane. You must be Richard.” Lois greeted, kneeling down to the boy’s level. Clark gave her a subtle look, wondering how she knew. Lois silently answered with one of her own, one that clearly said that they will discuss later. Richard simply nodded at the question, still not speaking. Lois detected his discomfort, growing softer. “Let me show you to your seat?”
She stretched out a hand for Richard to take. Richard stared at it for a long second before brushing past both teachers, searching for his desk himself. Clark and Lois exchanged a discreet look. Much to discuss later.
“Well it’s nice to meet you, Alfred. We will take such good care of Richard.” Clark reassured the butler.
Alfred nodded politely, his gaze never leaving Richard as the boy settled in. The glint in his eye was more paternal than it was professional. Clark offered him an encouraging smile as he led the older man to the door. It would all be okay, he silently told himself. Richard may be a tough nut to crack but that was a part of the job. And despite the woes of being a teacher, Clark really loved his job.
It would all be okay.
—
Spoiler alert: it was not okay.
Hell broke loose during story time. Lois sat on the rug in front of their kindergarten class, reading a book about the first day of school. Clark stood behind her, providing the sound effects and silly actions to pair with the story. The students were giggling, delighted by Lois and Clark’s performance. All except Richard. His blue eyes remained on the book in Lois’ hand, tersely awaiting the next page. He wasn’t entertained by the antics; he wanted the rest of story. Lois turns the page, showcasing a mother and father during drop off. Innocently blunt, Wally — the boy next to Richard — leans over to him.
“Where’s your mom?” The redhead asked Richard.
Clark and Lois reacted immediately, prepared to gently admonish Wally. But Richard was even faster. In a blink of an eye, he lunged at Wally, shoving him to the ground. The other kindergartners yelped in surprise. Taken aback by the violence, Clark took a brief second before he rushed to the wrestling boys. His large frame hovered over the boys, carefully separating them as quickly as possible. In one arm, Wally looks stunned and disheveled. In the other, Richard is eerily calm despite the flare in his oceanic eyes.
The two teachers exchange a look. Even more to discuss now. Fuck, was it lunchtime yet?
“Wally,” Clark starts firmly. “Every family is different. And that’s beautiful, and okay. It’s really important to remember that before asking personal questions… Do you understand?”
Wally nodded shakily. Clark loosened his grip on both boys before addressing Richard next. “Richard, I know you’re having big feelings. But we don’t let them out by using our hands, okay? We keep our bodies to ourselves.”
Richard does not reply. The rest of the class watch on with wide eyes. Lois cleared her throat, breaking the tension.
“Alright, everyone. Walk and grab your water bottles. Then, make a line at the door. It’s time for to lunch.” Lois announced firmly. The kindergarteners are quick to obey. They glanced warily at Richard as they collected their belongings.
“That means you two as well. We’ll talk more about this later.” Clark murmured to Richard and Wally, not wanting to attract more attention.
Wally scurried to grab his things. Richard slowly trailed after him, a hardened look on his face.
“Richard?” Clark’s gentle voice caused the boy to pause. It didn’t feel right to leave the kid feeling so low. He was a teacher who cared, after all. Squatting down to the boy’s eye level, Clark asked lowly: “Are you okay? Do you want to talk to Mr. K?”
It felt a bit like a punch in the gut when the little boy gives Clark a blank look, turning to walk away from him.
—
“We have to email his dad.” Clark said, watching Lois mix her salad.
They were now in the teacher’s lounge, finally on break, while the kids had lunch. This room was their safe haven. Gotham Academy spared no expense in making the space both efficient and comfortable. Clark laid stretched out on the sofa, processing the hellish past five hours. He’d forgotten to pack a lunch in his chaotic morning rush; his punishment was to now ruminate on an empty stomach.
Lois narrowed her eyes at Clark. “His dad is Bruce Wayne.”
The name sounded vaguely familiar. But Clark didn’t pay much stock to the school’s rich clientele of parents. He was far more concerned with his own community, wanting to see it thrive. “Is he a celebrity or something?”
“God, you’re so chronically offline.” Lois scoffed. She pulled out her phone, swiping fiercely before shoving the phone in Clark’s face. The visual made his breath hitch ever so slightly.
The shot of Bruce Wayne was polished. Deliberate. The background was a soft neutral blur, one that didn’t take attention from the main attraction. He was tall, even in stillness. His meticulously tailored suit clung to a subtle, muscular frame. Neatly styled dark hair framed his chiseled features, revealing dusty blue eyes. His expression was a nonchalant kind of cocky that spoke to genuine confidence.
Now as a kindergarten teacher, Clark has long mastered the craft of filtering his thoughts before speaking them allowed. But as his gaze settled on the powerful portrait of Bruce Wayne, he allowed himself a brief moment to think what he was actually thinking:
Holy shit, he’s hot.
“CEO of Wayne Enterprises.” Lois added pointedly.
Ah. That company name, Clark was aware of. He may be ‘chronically offline’ but he wasn’t an idiot. He just hadn’t put two and two together. In his defense, who remembered the names of the people running these ridiculously overrated corporations? He’d much rather have space for the names that mattered to him, like the owner of the mom and pop bodega across from his apartment.
“Earth to Clark.”
He hadn’t even realized that he’d been spacing out, still clutching Lois’ phone in his hand. Clearing his throat, Clark looked up from the picture and passed the phone back to his best friend. No matter how powerful (or cute) Bruce Wayne was, it didn’t change Clark’s mind.
“We still need to email him, Lo. We have a no hands policy.”
“Yeah, I know…” Lois mumbled, spearing her chicken caesar salad. “You don’t mind taking the lead on that, do you?”
Clark balked. “What—? I was hoping we’d do it together.”
“That sounds above my pay grade,” Lois smirked. She jabbed her fork in Clark’s direction. “How about I make you a deal? I’ll give you half of this salad if you write the email.”
Unfortunately, Clark’s grumbling tummy could not resist such an offer.
“I’ll write it during planning period.” He sighed, holding out his hands. As promised, Lois deposits half of her salad onto an extra plate, passing it over.
“God, you’re easy.” Lois grinned.
—
Clark Kent <[email protected]>
To: Bruce Wayne <[email protected]>
SUBJECT: Today’s Incident Involving Richard
Dear Mr. Wayne,
I hope this email finds you well. We were sorry to miss you today on the first day of school. I am writing to inform you of an incident today, involving your son.
During story time, another student asked a question about Richard’s mother. Richard reacted by getting into a physical altercation with the other student. The situation was deescalated quickly. Both students were separated and talked to individually.
I want to acknowledge that the question touched on something personal for Richard. This was addressed immediately with the other student. However, we have a no hands policy and Richard’s physical approach was unacceptable.
If there’s any information that you think would be helpful in supporting Richard, please feel free to share. I am happy to arrange a time to speak on the phone or meet in person. Both Ms. Lane and I are committed to Richard’s emotional growth and want to make sure we’re all on the same page.
Thank you for your partnership.
Best,
Mr. Clark Kent
Clark exhaled sharply, pressing send. That wasn’t as intimidating as he thought it would. He glanced up at Lois across the classroom, watching as she cut out shapes.
“Done.” Clark confirmed.
“Good boy.” Lois replied sardonically.
Clark chuckled, used to her bite. He grabbed his empty mug, wanting to grab another cup before they picked up the kids from art. A ding on his laptop stopped him in his tracks, immediately clocking the name.
He already had a reply from Bruce Wayne.
Frowning thoughtfully, Clark set his cup down and plopped back down at his desk. Didn’t Alfred say the guy was overseas? What was he doing wherever he was, answering emails in the middle of the night? Clark’s heart raced a bit faster as he opened the email.
Bruce Wayne <[email protected]>
To: Clark Kent <[email protected]>
SUBJECT: RE: Incident Involving Richard
Did he win? - B