The list of things they're going to talk about, by necessity, is long and covers a lot of ground. Some of the ground it covers is why Bruce's concern about getting punched in the face might be called 'projection', but that can wait.
He deliberately looks a little concerned, even paranoid, when Matt smiles and turns his head toward him, assuming that pose is for a photograph. Looking like he's not quite sneaking, but not eager for exposure immediately is a story he'd prefer.
Meanwhile they've worked out enough that when we make it to the building he presses the buzzer, but also pulls Matt in to a light kiss. On the lips, slow and soft and practiced and without letting go of their joined hands, but brief.
On the steps of his building, when he's pulled into the light kiss, he's not surprised. He lets it linger just long enough so that it doesn't appear rushed but also so that it doesn't last more than what would be expected from one of those kisses that come just because it's been too long. That's the story he thinks is sold there; a kiss that comes because they both have missed it, even if it's presumably only been the time that they've been walking since they've shared such intimacy. It's a good story.
He just gives Bruce a smile and a, "Come on," before he lets them into the building. There's an elevator that goes to the top floor where Matt's apartment is and he doesn't drop anything of the act there. There's the security camera, after all, that he can hear as an ever soft electronic whir.
On his floor, he unlocks the door and lets them in. As soon as the door is closed, Matt tosses his keys into a dish meant to hold them and just laughs. "Do you think he got a good picture?"
There isn't much of note from Bruce between the kiss and the apartment, except a very subtle air of relief (easier breathing, slightly slower pulse) when the kiss breaks and they're inside. There'd probably be more, but he often has a choke-hold on his biometrics.
That relief intensifies when they're inside the apartment. He takes his suit jacket off immediately and tosses it on the nearest piece of furniture. "I hope so. That was a lot of work, if he can't sell the pictures for a decent price. You seem to be have fun with this."
...Bruce is going off toward the kitchen and 'junk' drawer to find the take out menus. Sue him - seriously, he's loaded. He's also starving.
It's a strange thing to kiss someone without the reason being solely want. Matt can't recall that ever happening in his lifetime but there's a first time for everything and while it certainly wasn't unpleasant, there was a task to be done. He thinks they did a good job. "I'm used to portraying an image. It's just a different one. It's actually kind of fun to be pretending at something that isn't the whole, you know." Matt makes a motion to his face as indication. He folds up the cane and sets it and his glasses aside in their usual place by the door. It's still daylight but he reaches for the light switch on the wall for Bruce's benefit for later when the day dims.
He takes off his jacket, hangs it, and removes his shoes. "You seem to be making yourself at home. I'm going to change out of the button down and tie. There's water in the refrigerator. Some energy drinks. Gatorade. And protein bars in the third cupboard to the right if you can't wait for pizza," he says before padding across the apartment to the bedroom to change.
"Playing with people's perceptions can be fun. Sometimes, even for me. Right now, this counts." That wasn't the source of his relief. He'll consider explaining, and probably soon. In the moment...
Yeah, he's rude. He watches to see the direction that Matt goes, so he understands the apartment's layout better, finds a protein bar that he opens with his teeth and one hand, while grabbing a pizza delivery menu with the other.
He does at least swallow before: "What do you want on the pizza?" he asks from where he's standing and does not bother raising his voice.
He's amused enough that Bruce is already digging through his cupboards and drawers to find what he needs. It doesn't bother him; he figures that this strange arrangement is going to entwine them in each other's lives pretty significantly so he might as well share the good protein bars with him.
In the bedroom, he takes off his button-down shirt and absently pushes his hand against a bruise on his rib cage to see how far alone it is in healing. Suits hide a lot. Probably a couple of days before it fades. So it goes. He puts on a pair of black pajama bottoms and an old, faded Columbia shirt. "No olives, no peppers, no pineapple. Otherwise go nuts," he calls back, loud enough that Bruce will be able to hear him.
Once he finishes, he steps back into the living room and the open concept floor plan back to the kitchen.
"Our first argument is going to be about whether pineapple belongs on pizza." That is mostly a joke - but only mostly.
He's finishing the protein bar, leaned against Matt's counter when he comes back into the room. He looks up from the menu and tilts his head at what Matt's changed into and actually, sincerely, smiles. "That's a good look."
Suits Matt in a specific kind of way and feels very... undone and out of any sort of uniform.
"I'm not inherently opposed on principle but I'm not in the mood and it has to be a specific kind of pizza. Otherwise the flavor profiles clash," he argues as he goes to the refrigerator to retrieve a bottle of water for himself.
He flashes an easy smile in response. "A little bit of a downgrade from the sale Nordstrom suit or the really good one that's in my locked storage." There doesn't seem to a need to keep up appearances and maybe this is a decidedly softer image but it's his home and he thinks they should probably be comfortable around one another.
He flicks the cap for the water into the trash. "Did you decide?"
"It does need to be a fairly simple pizza. Ideally with a very good cheese blend and some sort of cured meat. Bacon will work, prosciutto is better."
Bruce actually is comfortable now. That's almost a surprise even to him, but the second he got into the apartment, understood the layout and exits, he's unwound in a way he rarely does. A lot of that, admittedly, is not just that he isn't performing. It's that he's not anywhere in the vicinity of any of the work he does.
"I'm ordering it with everything but olives, pineapple and peppers. You could use the calories." So could Bruce. Regardless it should taste pretty good at that point. " ...Or pickles. Those don't belong on any pizza or most food."
Matt can tell in the way that Bruce's body has relaxed a little bit since they arrived in the apartment. It makes sense. There are no prying eyes. No images to maintain and nothing that should be carrying on his shoulders at the moment except for the questions of future expectations. Those conversations haven't been particularly painful.
"Did you just call me skinny?" he asks about the remark on the calories, though it's punctuated with a smile. "I didn't even realize that pickles were an option. Truly a cursed food. I don't like much that just carries the taste of the brine it was sitting in."
"I either called you skinny, or implied you burn off the calories too fast for it to make a difference. You can pick your own interpretation."
He continues his casual lean, while dialing the number for the pizza place. "I have never liked pickles, but after experiencing a 'high end' pickle that amounted to dill pickles with an obscene amount of saffron dumped in the jar, I'm not convinced I'll ever be able to eat another one."
Then he makes the call and places the order. When he hangs up? No real.. lead in, but: "Are you dating or having sex with anyone now, and do you expect to be in the future?" What? They're ironing out some details. That's a potentially big one.
"Just because you've got--what, thirty pounds--of muscle on me doesn't mean I'm skinny," he laughs but there's something easily good natured about it. He doesn't necessarily mind the remark.
He shakes his head, "Thus proving how much of a scam high end is," he grins.
Matt isn't sure if he's surprised by the question and its directness or if he appreciates it. He snickers all the same and takes a sip of his water. "No, I am not dating or sleeping with anyone currently. I broke up with the therapist and I'm not seeing anyone. I have the expectation that the image of monogamy is somewhat central to this whole thing so I don't expect to, no. And you?"
"Good to know you'll choose the potential insult." That, too, is truly just a tease.
He pushes slowly up on Matt's counter to sit, while they wait on the pizza and talk. He's impressed at how easily Matt answered the question and got involved in asking his own. Not that he expected Matt to refuse to answer, but a snicker instead of a splutter is appreciated.
"I hope the image of monogamy unless we need a public scandal is the expectation." He's tired. He is so, so, tired. If he can drop even some of that, he can - redirect to the business and Batman. He'll still be less tired. "I'm sleeping with a couple of people, occasionally. Both have their own secret identities and occasionally is 'rare but not never'."
"Always and every time, I'll choose the argumentative side," he teases right back.
He recognizes the need for the question and frankly, he appreciates that it comes in a direct way instead of tip-toeing around one another. Sex, too, is not any kind of taboo topic for him and to be asked outright about his sexual partners or his thoughts on new ones isn't going to bother him. "You don't have to worry about me in that regard, then." He'll sell the story and the image, just as they have discussed.
"Is this your way of telling me that you're going to continue that arrangement? Because it's fine, obviously." He doesn't really think it was an ask, exactly. An FYI, perhaps. Either way, he's not pressed about it since it seems that the secret identity part will keep it from spilling over into the gossip rags.
"There are no 'of courses' for me, here." He sounds (and is) very faintly apologetic about that.
Yes, he knows who he's dealing with and that Matt will want as many details as possible ironed out. Matt may even do a better job of spotting loopholes and complications than Bruce will. He certainly won't do a worse one.
Bruce pauses to unbutton his cuffs, and starts to roll his sleeves back.
"But that's not actually what I'm telling you. To begin with, it's less arrangement and more occasional event. Frankly, I don't have all that much sex for reasons I am absolutely sure you understand and others you probably don't relate to as directly. I don't care what the outcome is, as long as we know what the lines are and it's working for us."
Matt just smiles back at that, "Noted," he replies and lets it drop.
He has a lot that he wants to iron out but he's strangely not feeling stressed about it. They've been on the same page thus far, even if they have found some minor misalignment in the slight details here and there. More than anything, he feels that he needs to know the what, how, when and why of things just so that he isn't the one who makes a mistake. Bruce's life is decidedly more public than his and it makes it harder to cover any screw-ups on Matt's part if he makes a decided misstep.
"So it's not in the dayplanner," he says with a grin. "The schedule isn't conducive to relationships, I'll grant you." As for other reasons, he's not sure and he doesn't push. It's not his business. "Don't worry. I'm not looking for monogamy out of my sham marriage." It's a bit of a tease.
The other reasons are all about 'family' - adopted or forcibly adopted into - and team. Bruce isn't exactly used to being the least isolated person in any room, but in this case he very much is.
It's strange on that level, but general concern for someone else, even in things that he accepts readily for himself? That second part is at least familiar.
Meanwhile, he has an opening and he's taking it.
"What do you want out of it? Money is a given, what specifically do you want that money directed to?"
Matt's life has grown increasingly smaller in the last year and he recognizes that about himself. His connections to the normal world were often through his friendships and without those things now, he's been adrift. He feels like he's often playing the part of himself so maybe that's why he doesn't find this arrangement particularly strange. It's just a new wrinkle in the phony image of himself that he puts on when he goes out in a suit and tie every day.
"Wilson Fisk is using the cops as his own task force. A lot of innocent people get caught up in that so beyond the necessity for good lawyers and legal resources, bail funds are usually charitable contributions. I can file suit against the city for infringement on constitutional rights and the like, but that doesn't help anyone in the here and now. I can pull together a list of places and organizations that could use funds to help people now, today. Beyond that? Money is what gets in with the Kingpin and his cronies. It gets invitations closer to where power is seated and places where I can do some damage."
It doesn't feel particularly strange to Bruce, either, although for nearly exact opposite reason. He gets to put down at least part of his act. The most annoying, exhausting, frustrating part.
"That's easily done. I'm already known for charitable giving and non-profit organization. The association with you will be more than enough reason to extend myself and finances that reason - and your reputation and work for similar things is enough reason for us to... like each other." It sounds like more of the cover story, and in a way it is. It's also accurate.
"We do need to come up with a contract to protect you. If nothing else some sort of financial payout in the event of divorce with cause. It'll provide an escape hatch and means of ensuring you're not trapped with me for the sake of your work. You also need to seriously, seriously consider how you can take advantage of the finances and tech resources for the night job."
Matt doesn't want Bruce to feel like he has to be something that he's not in the confines of his home or in the privacy that they might afford each other. They might be planning a con in a lot of ways, but it's comfortable and he likes that. Matt pulls himself up on the end of the kitchen island, letting his legs hang over casually while he sips his water.
"I do work with a lot of them already so it's an easy line to draw, even without your other associations so that shouldn't raise eyebrows as far as why they're getting an influx of money. And I think I'm pretty charming so I think we can sell this whole meeting in a coffeeshop and hitting it off based on shared interests story," he replies, flashing another easy smile. Charm and confidence are easy things to project and he can do that with anyone who might ask questions.
"A contract is a given. No lawyer worth anything is going to go into a marriage without a pre-nup, for one thing. Not having one would be its own red flag. Especially the speed at which we're moving with this--no one would believe either of us is that stupid," he answers. "Yeah. I'm thinking about that. I'm not a tech sort of guy based on the limitations of, you know, abject poverty by comparison." He's teasing again, but it's also true; he gets by and has come up in the world since starting the new firm but it doesn't mean he's got the kind of budget Batman does. "I'll give it some consideration. I like the suits I have now and find more armor to be too bulky for the kind of work I do."
"My 'associates' aren't going to bat an eyelash at any amount of money I give you, and I managed to move around my accountants to put a space station in orbit for monitoring and defense." That's dry, but it's relevant. Also: Fuck alien threats, what's happening on earth is enough.
He watches Matt settle with a faint smile. Comfortable is better, and the fact that this man is this isolated while clearly comfortable with at least some company is... sad. Bruce would be better suited to - Well, no, actually he'd spin out and already be engaging in some nasty self-destruction if his world were too small.
"My suit's gotten heavier over the years, and so has my build. Both are largely compensatory. I have to have somewhere for the servos in my pants to go." That is absolutely true and absolutely amused. "But your suit's fine. I'm thinking more security and communications. Maybe non-lethal ranged weaponry."
"Yeah, I definitely don't think I'm asking for space station money. We're talking about organizations where a hundred grand would be considered completely life changing kinds of money," he laughs. That's wild to hear but at the same time, obviously Bruce's whole life seems to be more tied to larger threats than Matt's. Daredevil never hooked up with the Avengers and he keeps his focus on the neighborhood and the city because someone has to.
He's good with people, and he likes being around them. The way that his life has become isolated is a result of loss and the depression that came with it so it actually feels kind of nice to be sitting and plotting with someone. He's done so much alone lately that even having a conversation about Daredevil and what he does has been far from the norm.
"Mine hasn't changed, really. Other than a few upgrades here and there, the cut of it is roughly the same. I'm a little bit more of a fists and club sort of fighter. I learned on both when I was a kid and I never really considered weaponry beyond that. But there are no communications or anything. So I suppose that's something to look at."
He tilts his head and pushes himself up off the counter so he can start to gather napkins and plates. That's before the door buzzer sounds to mark the arrival of the pizza.
Bruce prefers to keep his focus on Gotham - and almost cannot take his focus off. But with Clark as part of his life, that broader focus to some degree was inevitable. Maybe it's a good thing. God knows Gotham seems to be determined to die.
Bruce moves when Matt does, leaving the conversation abruptly for the moment, in order to collect (and pay for, and tip) for the pizza. With any luck, he'll be recognized there, too.
When he gets back with the (still hot) box, his first question though is: "table, couch, or floor?" Where are they eating.
He doesn't make mention of how he could smell the pizza from down the street or how he knows that the driver's last delivery was probably to the florist because he carries too many scents of fresh cut flowers with just enough faintness that he wasn't there long.
"Couch is fine. Just put it on the coffee table. That's where I usually end up," he replies. Bruce probably knows a thing or two about just being too tired to move for the sake of supposed manners and just because there's now someone else in the space, Matt doesn't feel any particular desire to try to impress by eating with any kind of real additional politeness besides doing it with his mouth closed.
He retrieves another water for himself and takes it to the couch to sit down on one side, leaving the other end or the nearby loveseat open.
Too tired to chew, too sore to move, too depressed to care. There are options; Bruce drinks a lot of his meals.
He carries the pizza toward the couch and sets it down, before grabbing the coffee table and moving it closer. Once that's there he sits down and puts the pizza box on it.
"I think at the very least I'm going to insist on some sort of built in communication to the Cave. The rest I'll leave to you, but knowing and being able to respond to serious trouble is a thing I'm going to need."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Wrong thread entirely, sorry!
He deliberately looks a little concerned, even paranoid, when Matt smiles and turns his head toward him, assuming that pose is for a photograph. Looking like he's not quite sneaking, but not eager for exposure immediately is a story he'd prefer.
Meanwhile they've worked out enough that when we make it to the building he presses the buzzer, but also pulls Matt in to a light kiss. On the lips, slow and soft and practiced and without letting go of their joined hands, but brief.
no problem it happens!
He just gives Bruce a smile and a, "Come on," before he lets them into the building. There's an elevator that goes to the top floor where Matt's apartment is and he doesn't drop anything of the act there. There's the security camera, after all, that he can hear as an ever soft electronic whir.
On his floor, he unlocks the door and lets them in. As soon as the door is closed, Matt tosses his keys into a dish meant to hold them and just laughs. "Do you think he got a good picture?"
Re: no problem it happens!
That relief intensifies when they're inside the apartment. He takes his suit jacket off immediately and tosses it on the nearest piece of furniture. "I hope so. That was a lot of work, if he can't sell the pictures for a decent price. You seem to be have fun with this."
...Bruce is going off toward the kitchen and 'junk' drawer to find the take out menus. Sue him - seriously, he's loaded. He's also starving.
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He takes off his jacket, hangs it, and removes his shoes. "You seem to be making yourself at home. I'm going to change out of the button down and tie. There's water in the refrigerator. Some energy drinks. Gatorade. And protein bars in the third cupboard to the right if you can't wait for pizza," he says before padding across the apartment to the bedroom to change.
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Yeah, he's rude. He watches to see the direction that Matt goes, so he understands the apartment's layout better, finds a protein bar that he opens with his teeth and one hand, while grabbing a pizza delivery menu with the other.
He does at least swallow before: "What do you want on the pizza?" he asks from where he's standing and does not bother raising his voice.
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In the bedroom, he takes off his button-down shirt and absently pushes his hand against a bruise on his rib cage to see how far alone it is in healing. Suits hide a lot. Probably a couple of days before it fades. So it goes. He puts on a pair of black pajama bottoms and an old, faded Columbia shirt. "No olives, no peppers, no pineapple. Otherwise go nuts," he calls back, loud enough that Bruce will be able to hear him.
Once he finishes, he steps back into the living room and the open concept floor plan back to the kitchen.
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He's finishing the protein bar, leaned against Matt's counter when he comes back into the room. He looks up from the menu and tilts his head at what Matt's changed into and actually, sincerely, smiles. "That's a good look."
Suits Matt in a specific kind of way and feels very... undone and out of any sort of uniform.
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He flashes an easy smile in response. "A little bit of a downgrade from the sale Nordstrom suit or the really good one that's in my locked storage." There doesn't seem to a need to keep up appearances and maybe this is a decidedly softer image but it's his home and he thinks they should probably be comfortable around one another.
He flicks the cap for the water into the trash. "Did you decide?"
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Bruce actually is comfortable now. That's almost a surprise even to him, but the second he got into the apartment, understood the layout and exits, he's unwound in a way he rarely does. A lot of that, admittedly, is not just that he isn't performing. It's that he's not anywhere in the vicinity of any of the work he does.
"I'm ordering it with everything but olives, pineapple and peppers. You could use the calories." So could Bruce. Regardless it should taste pretty good at that point. " ...Or pickles. Those don't belong on any pizza or most food."
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Matt can tell in the way that Bruce's body has relaxed a little bit since they arrived in the apartment. It makes sense. There are no prying eyes. No images to maintain and nothing that should be carrying on his shoulders at the moment except for the questions of future expectations. Those conversations haven't been particularly painful.
"Did you just call me skinny?" he asks about the remark on the calories, though it's punctuated with a smile. "I didn't even realize that pickles were an option. Truly a cursed food. I don't like much that just carries the taste of the brine it was sitting in."
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He continues his casual lean, while dialing the number for the pizza place. "I have never liked pickles, but after experiencing a 'high end' pickle that amounted to dill pickles with an obscene amount of saffron dumped in the jar, I'm not convinced I'll ever be able to eat another one."
Then he makes the call and places the order. When he hangs up? No real.. lead in, but: "Are you dating or having sex with anyone now, and do you expect to be in the future?" What? They're ironing out some details. That's a potentially big one.
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He shakes his head, "Thus proving how much of a scam high end is," he grins.
Matt isn't sure if he's surprised by the question and its directness or if he appreciates it. He snickers all the same and takes a sip of his water. "No, I am not dating or sleeping with anyone currently. I broke up with the therapist and I'm not seeing anyone. I have the expectation that the image of monogamy is somewhat central to this whole thing so I don't expect to, no. And you?"
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He pushes slowly up on Matt's counter to sit, while they wait on the pizza and talk. He's impressed at how easily Matt answered the question and got involved in asking his own. Not that he expected Matt to refuse to answer, but a snicker instead of a splutter is appreciated.
"I hope the image of monogamy unless we need a public scandal is the expectation." He's tired. He is so, so, tired. If he can drop even some of that, he can - redirect to the business and Batman. He'll still be less tired. "I'm sleeping with a couple of people, occasionally. Both have their own secret identities and occasionally is 'rare but not never'."
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He recognizes the need for the question and frankly, he appreciates that it comes in a direct way instead of tip-toeing around one another. Sex, too, is not any kind of taboo topic for him and to be asked outright about his sexual partners or his thoughts on new ones isn't going to bother him. "You don't have to worry about me in that regard, then." He'll sell the story and the image, just as they have discussed.
"Is this your way of telling me that you're going to continue that arrangement? Because it's fine, obviously." He doesn't really think it was an ask, exactly. An FYI, perhaps. Either way, he's not pressed about it since it seems that the secret identity part will keep it from spilling over into the gossip rags.
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Yes, he knows who he's dealing with and that Matt will want as many details as possible ironed out. Matt may even do a better job of spotting loopholes and complications than Bruce will. He certainly won't do a worse one.
Bruce pauses to unbutton his cuffs, and starts to roll his sleeves back.
"But that's not actually what I'm telling you. To begin with, it's less arrangement and more occasional event. Frankly, I don't have all that much sex for reasons I am absolutely sure you understand and others you probably don't relate to as directly. I don't care what the outcome is, as long as we know what the lines are and it's working for us."
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He has a lot that he wants to iron out but he's strangely not feeling stressed about it. They've been on the same page thus far, even if they have found some minor misalignment in the slight details here and there. More than anything, he feels that he needs to know the what, how, when and why of things just so that he isn't the one who makes a mistake. Bruce's life is decidedly more public than his and it makes it harder to cover any screw-ups on Matt's part if he makes a decided misstep.
"So it's not in the dayplanner," he says with a grin. "The schedule isn't conducive to relationships, I'll grant you." As for other reasons, he's not sure and he doesn't push. It's not his business. "Don't worry. I'm not looking for monogamy out of my sham marriage." It's a bit of a tease.
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It's strange on that level, but general concern for someone else, even in things that he accepts readily for himself? That second part is at least familiar.
Meanwhile, he has an opening and he's taking it.
"What do you want out of it? Money is a given, what specifically do you want that money directed to?"
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"Wilson Fisk is using the cops as his own task force. A lot of innocent people get caught up in that so beyond the necessity for good lawyers and legal resources, bail funds are usually charitable contributions. I can file suit against the city for infringement on constitutional rights and the like, but that doesn't help anyone in the here and now. I can pull together a list of places and organizations that could use funds to help people now, today. Beyond that? Money is what gets in with the Kingpin and his cronies. It gets invitations closer to where power is seated and places where I can do some damage."
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"That's easily done. I'm already known for charitable giving and non-profit organization. The association with you will be more than enough reason to extend myself and finances that reason - and your reputation and work for similar things is enough reason for us to... like each other." It sounds like more of the cover story, and in a way it is. It's also accurate.
"We do need to come up with a contract to protect you. If nothing else some sort of financial payout in the event of divorce with cause. It'll provide an escape hatch and means of ensuring you're not trapped with me for the sake of your work. You also need to seriously, seriously consider how you can take advantage of the finances and tech resources for the night job."
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"I do work with a lot of them already so it's an easy line to draw, even without your other associations so that shouldn't raise eyebrows as far as why they're getting an influx of money. And I think I'm pretty charming so I think we can sell this whole meeting in a coffeeshop and hitting it off based on shared interests story," he replies, flashing another easy smile. Charm and confidence are easy things to project and he can do that with anyone who might ask questions.
"A contract is a given. No lawyer worth anything is going to go into a marriage without a pre-nup, for one thing. Not having one would be its own red flag. Especially the speed at which we're moving with this--no one would believe either of us is that stupid," he answers. "Yeah. I'm thinking about that. I'm not a tech sort of guy based on the limitations of, you know, abject poverty by comparison." He's teasing again, but it's also true; he gets by and has come up in the world since starting the new firm but it doesn't mean he's got the kind of budget Batman does. "I'll give it some consideration. I like the suits I have now and find more armor to be too bulky for the kind of work I do."
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He watches Matt settle with a faint smile. Comfortable is better, and the fact that this man is this isolated while clearly comfortable with at least some company is... sad. Bruce would be better suited to - Well, no, actually he'd spin out and already be engaging in some nasty self-destruction if his world were too small.
"My suit's gotten heavier over the years, and so has my build. Both are largely compensatory. I have to have somewhere for the servos in my pants to go." That is absolutely true and absolutely amused. "But your suit's fine. I'm thinking more security and communications. Maybe non-lethal ranged weaponry."
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He's good with people, and he likes being around them. The way that his life has become isolated is a result of loss and the depression that came with it so it actually feels kind of nice to be sitting and plotting with someone. He's done so much alone lately that even having a conversation about Daredevil and what he does has been far from the norm.
"Mine hasn't changed, really. Other than a few upgrades here and there, the cut of it is roughly the same. I'm a little bit more of a fists and club sort of fighter. I learned on both when I was a kid and I never really considered weaponry beyond that. But there are no communications or anything. So I suppose that's something to look at."
He tilts his head and pushes himself up off the counter so he can start to gather napkins and plates. That's before the door buzzer sounds to mark the arrival of the pizza.
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Bruce prefers to keep his focus on Gotham - and almost cannot take his focus off. But with Clark as part of his life, that broader focus to some degree was inevitable. Maybe it's a good thing. God knows Gotham seems to be determined to die.
Bruce moves when Matt does, leaving the conversation abruptly for the moment, in order to collect (and pay for, and tip) for the pizza. With any luck, he'll be recognized there, too.
When he gets back with the (still hot) box, his first question though is: "table, couch, or floor?" Where are they eating.
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"Couch is fine. Just put it on the coffee table. That's where I usually end up," he replies. Bruce probably knows a thing or two about just being too tired to move for the sake of supposed manners and just because there's now someone else in the space, Matt doesn't feel any particular desire to try to impress by eating with any kind of real additional politeness besides doing it with his mouth closed.
He retrieves another water for himself and takes it to the couch to sit down on one side, leaving the other end or the nearby loveseat open.
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He carries the pizza toward the couch and sets it down, before grabbing the coffee table and moving it closer. Once that's there he sits down and puts the pizza box on it.
"I think at the very least I'm going to insist on some sort of built in communication to the Cave. The rest I'll leave to you, but knowing and being able to respond to serious trouble is a thing I'm going to need."
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