Ok, maybe being Bruce Wayne’s son is why Clark was so insistent on him coming to dinner with you. It was still terrifying. Clark was your adoptive father, so he was naturally protective of you, and when he found out that his grown ass daughter was dating Bruce’s son for longer than a year and a half, and — knowing Bruce’s former reputation of being a playboy — invited him for dinner.

What would he say? Would Clark take one look at him and say that you should just not date him anymore? That would be the worst thing imaginable— Dick was so whipped for you that if it was even suggested to not date you, he’d waste away.

But he was a gentleman at heart, mind, body and soul, so he should be ok, right? “I’m scared out of my fuckin’ mind, gorgeous.” Dick muttered, chewing on his bottom lip, in his best button up and jeans. He was not kidding when he said that he had half a mind to wear a suit and tie for this.

Then the door swung open and — shit, did Clark hear him swear? He was fucked if he did, so he just put on a brave smile and tried to shoot the butterflies down. “Hello, Mr Kent, uh, sir.”