Work Text:
Bruce and Clark's wedding had been a small, private affair at a Smallville church--just a few friends and family there as they exchanged vows. But after a few months it became clear that their costumed personae were going to have to go public as well. There were just too many rumors, too many gossiping voices. Bruce ended up being the one to argue they should have a huge, glitzy wedding for their alter egos, to satisfy the gossips for a little while. Clark had eventually sighed and given in.
Now here they are, in front of a standing-room-only crowd at Gotham Cathedral, in front of a estimated television viewing audience in the billions. Not to mention the offworld viewing audience. The crowd murmur is a constant rising and falling roar, like the ocean.
There is a near-endless procession of bridesmaids and ushers: Supergirl with Nightwing, Batgirl with Robin, Spoiler with Superboy, Wonder Woman with the Martian Manhunter. Besides the bouquets the women are holding, they're dressed in their costumes and masks; the result is festive, if somewhat garish.
Then Batman and Superman come down the aisle, arm in arm. The entire congregation rises and applauds, and Superman can feel himself start blushing right away; he doesn't need to see beneath the cowl to know that Batman is rolling his eyes.
The priest clears his throat and begins the reading. 1 Corinthians 13. Batman had growled and said he wasn't going to have something so cliche read at his wedding, but on this Superman had put his foot down. "You wanted a cliche wedding, and you'll have it. Besides, it's beautiful."
"If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing." Superman watches Batman's face, what little of it he can see under the cowl; he might seem stoic to anyone else, but Superman knows him well enough to know better. "...these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love."
They exchange vows in clear, steady voices that carry to the back of the cathedral; the huge crowd is silent now and Superman can faintly hear a few people sniffling. When he takes off Batman's black glove to slip the ring on, there's a susurration of attention at the sight of Batman's bare hand.
Superman slips the ring on Batman's hand, and it fits perfectly into the space where Bruce has already been wearing his for months.
"You may kiss your beloved," says the priest, and Superman leans forward.
The warm mouth opens to him passionately, and for that moment they are Clark and Bruce again, alone in a crowd, their clothing and masks irrelevant as their souls meet.
Batman is smiling when they part, as the crowd breaks into applause again. "Congratulations, Mr. Batman," he murmurs.
"Congratulations, Mr. Superman," Kal whispers back as they start down the aisle again.