It's a bird! It's a plane! It's...SUPERMAN!"

"Dick, get down from there! If Daddy sees you all the way up there-"

"No wait! It's Batman! Whooosh!" Dick held up his arms with his makeshift cape (bedsheets wrapped around his neck) and jumped. Clark briefly flew up into the air, grabbing the child in mid-fall, cradling him close and then slowly easing back down to the floor. "Don't do that! Daddy would be so mad if he saw-"

"Saw what?"

Clark wheeled around, face-to-face with an ill-tempered Bruce, one eyebrow cocked and a frown on his face.

"O-oh, n-nothing...Bruce..." He used his spare hand to push up his glasses: a nervous habit.

"You know, you can beat me at almost everything else, Kal," Bruce pulled a reaching Dick out of Clark's grip (that had suddenly gone slack), "but lying? You're probably the worst liar I know."

"It's tough to lie to a guy like you." muttered Clark, sulking (usually Bruce's job) to the living room.

Dick pet Bruce's nicely slicked back hair. "Daddy, I'm Batman and Superman."

The dark man couldn't help but crack a smile. "So that's what you were doing?" He set the child and knelt down to his height. "I know you're really good at flips and cartwheels, but you can't pretend to be Batman or Superman anymore. It's dangerous for you."

"I want to be a superhero, though, too! Everyone else is!" Dick pouted, facing away from him, crossing his arms.

"How about we make up your own superhero that you can be?"

"Okay!"

"Alright. We'll do this with Dad, okay?"

"Okay! DADDDDYYY!" Dick ran to go find Clark and Bruce just smiled, slowly following.

Clark was looking at his laptop, streaming the news from Metropolis. Nothing particularly interesting seemed to be happening at the moment, and he was grateful, but sometimes it felt so...so empty not having to save the world every day. Not to mention Gotham was not really like Smallvile or Metropolis.

But he could commute and Bruce couldn't, so this is the way things were. A penthouse in the middle of a skyscraper with two superhero dads and one adorable little four-year-old.

"Daddy, Daddy! Daddy says we can make me a superhero of my own!"

Clark smiled and put his laptop on the coffee table, picking Dick up and placing him in his lap. Bruce soon joined him on the couch, crossing his legs. Sundays were usually this leisurely, and though it felt odd for both men, Dick was their pride and joy.

Nothing could stop Superman from spending time with his son. "What are your powers going to be?"

"I'm going to be really smart, and build things, and see through things, and have laser eyes, and have ice breath, and drive a Batmobile, and kill people, and-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Kill people? That's not what Superman or Batman does, Dick!" Honestly, Clark was freaking the hell out. "Th-they help people! They don't kill them!"

Bruce was just as concerned, but hid it well. He pulled Dick into his own lap (something that happened often: the men fought for dominance so much, it even came down to who got to hold the child in their lap longer) and looked down at him, brushing a black strand of hair out of his eyes. "Superheroes save people, Dick. That's the right thing to do."

"Well, I meant kill the bad guys..." Dick mumbled, feeling really bad and ashamed for having said something so wrong.

"Not even the bad guys. We bring them to jail."

"Oh, ok-kay..." His chin wobbled, tears formed, and his shoulders trembled.

"Don't cry!" Clark was suddenly a puddle of mush (that's what Dick did to him) as he pulled him back into his lap and cuddled him. "Shhhh! Don't cry! We're sorry! Daddy's sorry!"

The billionaire looked sort of annoyed, getting up. "Kal, you're too soft."

"Daddy's sorry..." he wiped a tear from the young boy's cheek, staring into his teary eyes with his own blue, wide ones. "What can I do to make it up to you?" Bruce was completely ignored.

"T-take me f-for a r-ride."

Clark nodded intently. "Just a little one though, okay?"

"Okay!" the boy suddenly perked up, very excited and happy. It made him smile, as he picked him up and zoomed out of the room, giggles of innocent joy following after.

"K-Kaaaal..."

"You're not gonna get on top tonight, no matter how much you whine and moan."

"B-but...Kal...Kaaalll..."

Clark grunted. "No, Bruce. I'm...on top."

"That's not fair..."

"Daddy?"

"Shit!" Bruce swore, pulling the silken covers over their bodies as fast as he could react. "Why didn't you hear him coming?!" he snarled. Clark just smiled and shrugged. The bastard, he had known.

"Daddy...I wanna join the party, too...is it a superhero party?" Dick climbed up into the bed next to the two men, who were currently very sweaty and disheveled (for some odd reason that the boy just couldn't work out).

"Yes, Dick, it's a superhero party, and you can't come, because you're not a superhero!" Bruce tried to explain in a hurried way, while Clark continued to remain inside of him, moving inch by inch, torturing him, making him want to moan and scream for him...

Of course, he couldn't at the moment. Their son was in front of them. In fact, just a foot or two away. And yes, Superman had heard the boy coming ages ago, but sometimes sex got a little dull and it was always nice to spruce things up a bit. Keep Bruce on his toes.

"But you said we could make me my own superhero...also, you're not in superhero costumes right now, so I-"

"Clark, would you stop?!"

"Heh. Sorry." Finally the bigger man pulled out, giving Bruce both relief and dissatisfaction, laying next to him under the covers.

"Daddyyyy..." whined Dick, in a similar way the darker man had just called for Clark. Bruce's face went red.

"Don't say it like that, Dick. Just s-say it politely. Like, 'Daddy'."

"No. I want to play!" He crawled out of the bed just to be able to stomp his foot on the cold wood (expensive, that was, and here he was, scuffing it all up).

"Go play with Alfred."

"NO! I WANT TO PLAY WITH DADDY!" He thrust his pointer finger at Clark.

The Kryptonian, still very much so horny and hard, tried to smile in the best way he could. "It's late, Dick. We can play tomorrow. Run off to bed."

"I wanna sleep in here..." muttered Dick, crawling back into the bed and trying to get under the covers, which Bruce had to hold close to him and his husband as tight as he could.

"No sleeping in here tonight, Dick."

"Why are you so mean?!" Great. Now the waterworks were starting.

"ALFREDDDD!"

Dick sobbed louder.

The butler came as soon as he was called, cautiously entering the room. "Yes, Master Bruce?"

Bruce pointed to Dick. "Out."

And the boy kept sobbing hysterically. "Y-you hate me! I jus-jus wan-wanted to be a sup-superhero, too!"

"Please, Alfred!" His voice was really harsh, and it was times like these where it was obvious who was the better 'parent'. Bruce just didn't have the patience, a lot of the time.

Clark was feeling really bad for the child, and his erection was finally starting to fade watching the scene play out. "Bruce..."

Alfred coaxed Dick out of the room, promising cookies and milk so he could go to bed.

"Bruce, maybe that wasn't the best thing to do...or the way to do it."

He grunted and reached over in his dresser, pulling the drawer open and grabbing something inside, giving Clark only a second to react as he pulled out a Kryptonite necklace, throwing it around his neck. He used this opportunity to get on top, spread his trembling legs, and thrust inside his tight ass.

"A-alright...you...w...wi...win...Bru-uce..."

Bruce moaned in immense satisfaction, thrusting in and out of his lover, the only lubrication being Clark's spit from before.