Coming Together
Jan. 29th, 2011 03:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trista_zevkiaTitle: Coming Together
Chapter: 3/3
Fandom: Comicverse
Characters/Pairing: Clark/Bruce
Rating: PG-17
Summary: Clark investigates Gotham and learns her citizens have classes on how to drive him bat-crazy!
Disclaimer: All monies made will be sent to the Wayne Enterprise approved Charities
Author's Notes: Previously posted on World's finest.
Chapter 2
Clark used his contacts to make sure Wayne’s private plane left Metropolis the next morning and settled down to his work at the Daily Planet. By concentrating on his work, he made it through the day but when night came he found himself turning hungrily toward Gotham. It was a slow night, so when Clark’s cell phone rang, he went back to the apartment to answer it. A glance showed it was from a blocked caller, and therefore probably a wrong number, but he answered anyway.
“Hello?”
“There’s a riot at Blackgate prison that Superman should attend to.”
Clark forgot to breathe as that voice growled out his statement. The phone clicked of as soon as Batman was done talking. Numb, he tried to call back only to get a recording of an operator. Batman wouldn’t call up some random reporter hoping to get in touch with Superman, which meant he knew! How could he know? They had only met twice! People he had known for years hadn’t figured it out. He listened toward Bludhaven’s prison and decided Batman was right, there was a riot going on. He couldn’t ignore the riot, so he flew to it while planning the conversation he’d have with Batman afterwards.
Police sirens were still a ways off when he arrived, so Clark just started making his way through the prison. He was knocking out the particularly violent and tying up everybody with whatever was handy as he went. It wasn’t particularly hard work but there were a lot of prisoners, so the exercise helped to clear his mind. He could try to play it off, tell Batman he heard riot and knew nothing about a phone call. He doubted it would work but trying was better than losing his secret identity!
As he worked his way to the offices, Clark began to wonder why all the people he came across had random things on their heads as makeshift electronic devices. Hats or cloth he could understand but this guy had duct taped a toilet seat on his bald head! Clark eventually made it to the administrative offices only to find them sealed. He x-rayed the doors to see if he needed to break it open and saw a dozen people sprawled on the floor. One person was tying them up so he forced his way in. He sped across the room and yanked that person up and around, only to see that he didn’t have a face.
“Batman!” He switched back to normal vision and tried to make it seem like he knew who it was all along. “What are you doing outside Gotham?”
“Rescuing hostages.”
“If you are rescuing them, why are they all unconscious?” Make it sound like he didn’t trust Batman’s work, and that’s why he’d interrupted him!
“The gas I dropped through the air vent knocked everybody out so they wouldn’t get hurt.” Infuriatingly calm, Batman spoke as if this was all completely obvious and reasonable. “If you hadn’t been distracting him by attacking his drones, the Mad Hatter might’ve been able to hurt a hostage before the gas took effect, so you helped.”
He had just taken out almost two thousand prisoners and Batman said he helped! It was kind of like scoring the most goals and only getting a participation trophy. Was there a class in Gotham on how to make him angry? Move past the anger, he told himself, focus on what that irritating flying rat is talking about.
“The Mad Hatter was transferred out here for trial and they let him near a computer. This time his device made everyone controlled want to go out and forcibly recruit people with whatever was handy. I’ve been checking on him daily and was close enough that when I couldn’t get any footage I stopped by to check things out. When I saw what was happening, I called the police but I needed a quicker distraction, so I called you.”
That proved it, not only was Batman trying to treat him like crap, Batman knew he was Clark Kent! And then Batman was moving, moving so fast it was like he had the super speed. Superman whirled around to see what was going on. One of the hostage takers Batman had not tied up yet when Clark interrupted him was aiming a gun at them. Batman was in front of it and moving toward the man! The gun fired and Batman didn’t even seem to notice as he knocked the man unconscious, removed the gun and tied him up. Batman deftly removed the top hat off a pudgy little man and went around to finish tying people up. Clark would’ve apologized for interrupting and causing him to be shot had it been anyone other than Batman!
Instead he asked in a calm, unemotional voice Batman should’ve approved of. “Are you injured?”
“No, it was only a .22.” Superman nodded because he understood that. He recalled reading an article about police issue body armor stopping bullets up to a certain size, but if they got large enough they could bruise or even break ribs. Clark’s insides contracted like they were getting sucked into a vacuum cleaner. Batman was standing up, examining the Mad Hatter’s control device so Clark x-rayed under the blocked face. Three recently healed ribs, the top one re-broken with a golf ball sized bruise over it. Without a single coherent thought, Clark ripped the device out of Batman’s hands and tucked him under his arm like an errant child.
As they flew out of the corridors of tied up prisoners, Batman calmly remarked. “If you could just drop me by the Batwing out in the woods behind the prison, that would be great.”
Superman took to the sky and Batman added, with annoyance in his voice. “Gotham would be fine; I can always come back for the Batwing.”
It wasn’t a conscious decision, but Clark was taking him home. He pulled Batman closer to his body and wrapped him in his red cape before flying north at top speed.
Somewhere over Canada a low, threatening voice spoke but it didn’t even make Clark hesitate. “I am not amused.”
Almost at the North Pole, Clark descended and took them into the fortress. By this time Batman was shivering so he took him straight to the bedroom. Clark placed him beside the bed and told the A.I. to adjust the heat. Batman didn’t understand the language so he just stood there glaring and trying not to show how cold he was. Clark now knew better than to try and match that intimidating stare, so he decided to be considerate.
“I told the A.I. to warm up the room for you. It won’t take too long, but a hot shower will help you warm up quicker.” Batman looked like he was going to stay as he was, but finally he moved his cape and sat on the bed. He started with the gauntlets, which were apparently more complex than just a zipper. Hands free, he bent over to start unlacing the boots. Even with his mind blank and his emotions in turmoil, Clark felt desire stir at this strange strip. He zipped to the kitchen, gathered up a tray of food and returned.
“I’ve got some fruit and cheese if you’re hungry, but only water to drink. I usually eat at the apartment so I don’t keep much here besides the fruit that grows in the greenhouse.”
Batman shrugged as he carried his boots and gloves over to a shelf. “That’ll be fine for now, but for a longer stay I would require more nutritional variety.”
Wait, was Batman suggesting a sleepover? Clark wondered, so he came back with the original line, “What?”
“That was a subtle way of asking how long you were going to keep me here.” The cape joined the boots on the shelf. “Though I think imprisoning me is a very dramatic response to a request for a professional consultation.”
“Imprisoning, request, consultation!” Clark sputtered for a while before calming down enough to respond coherently. “There is so much wrong with that sentence, I don’t even know where to start. Bruce.”
He added the name separately and distinctly so there would be no way Batman didn’t hear. That notable, however, simply finished placing his cape on the shelf and moved on to his mask. Clark stared his confusion at Bruce’s back, why hadn’t he reacted?
“I’d like to know how you figured it out, so I can adjust my disguise.” Bruce said as he laid his mask on the shelf, voice between Batman and Brucie. Not the response Clark figured he would get, but he went with it.
“You don’t have to worry, I had to x-ray you to figure it out.” Bruce favored him with a quizzical look, even as he started to remove his body armor. Clark continued with only a few embarrassing pauses as he tried to avoid mentioning the mind-blowing sex. “The first time when you, ah, held the press luncheon about your Metropolis project, I noticed the three broken ribs. After the grand opening ceremony, I was bored while you were on the phone and checked to see how they were healing. The top one of the three was broke again, which I thought was weird.”
Bruce held his chest armor in one hand as he prodded around the rib in question. “I wasn’t sure if that one was broke or not.”
Superman had never had a broken bone, and was seriously concerned by Bruce’s lack of concern. But he was distracted as Bruce put his chest armor up and reached for his utility belt. Of course Bruce saved the belt for next to last, put off being separated from his essential tools as long as possible. Clark forced his mind back to what he’d been saying, because once those pants came off he doubted he would remember.
“So when I checked to make sure you weren’t hurt after that prisoner shot you, I…” Clark trailed off, as Bruce had whirled around and was looking at him with Batman eyes, narrowed, dangerous and scary pissed.
“You. Just. Figured. It. Out. Tonight?”
Anyone with half a brain would be afraid of that tone, but Clark pushed that instinctive fear aside. This was his fortress, and a quick scan showed Batman didn’t have his lead lined pouch tonight. In a straight up fight, nobody on this planet could match him. So he squared his shoulders and faced Batman’s disapproval.
“Yeah, so?”
“You went up to see Wayne as Clark, and slept with him as Superman. Your only disguise was a pair of glasses, which came off when you were naked with him before. And you didn’t expect anyone to figure out the connection between you? Wayne, his staff, random people with access to the security footage outside the hotel room?”
Clark shrugged dismissively. “Nobody has figured it out yet, so the glasses really do work.”
“I figured it out!”
This time Clark’s shrug was heartfelt, as was his smile. “You’re special, though.”
Bruce sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up nicely. “Look, if you want to maintain you secret identity, you’re going to have to be more careful from now on. I’ll help when I can, but you should make sure those who know one do not get direct contact with the other. Since I’m not your prisoner, I’ll warm up under the shower, get dressed and let you take me home.”
“Ah, no.” Bruce looked like Batman was seriously considering trying to take on Superman, so Clark stepped close enough to share his body heat. He ran his hand through Bruce’s hair and said in a husky voice he hardly recognized as his own. “I just thought of a better way to heat you up.”
He leaned forward and found Bruce’s cold fingers instead of his lips. “No. It’s still night in Gotham, and things there require my attention.”
Clark laughed and began gently rubbing warmth back into Bruce’s flesh. “Yes, and if you started walking now, how many nights do you think would pass before you reached Gotham? Before I take you anywhere, you’re going to warm up, in more ways than one!”
Bruce closed his eyes, rolled his head around, and then relaxed completely with a deep breath. His belt thudded to the floor and while he removed his pants, Clark removed everything he had on. There was a long moment where they just regarded each other, until Clark realized he was the seducer here; it was his place to act! Reaching for Bruce’s penis, he dropped to his knees and discovered he didn’t like the position. He felt vulnerable, even though he knew he wasn’t. How had Bruce done it and still maintained control of the situation? Of course, that was what had attracted him to Batman and Brucie, they made him lose control! Most of the time he couldn’t risk that, as it’d be so easy for him to hurt somebody. The man before him had been hurt so often and so bad, that his tolerance was high and he could handle almost anything. Clark would be careful with Bruce, but he would also be safe with him! He was nigh invulnerable, but it took a naked Batman to make him fill safe. Clark smiled at the thought even as he pulled his hands away from Bruce’s now erect penis and leaned forward.
He licked the tip and it jerked while Bruce remained perfectly still. He didn’t know they could do that, had his ever done that and he simply hadn’t noticed? He worked the tip until he got a surprisingly salty taste on his tongue. Pre-cum he figured, and took this as a sign to move on. He let his mouth play with Bruce’s balls for a while, while his hands squeezed Bruce’s perfectly formed buttocks. As he moved from the balls to the shaft, he snuck a finger into his mouth and wetted it thoroughly. Even as he toyed with the shaft, he inserted his finger into Bruce’s hole. When he moved to the tip again, he inserted a second finger. Bruce responded by digging his fingers into Clark’s hair. With the third finger, Bruce started to thrust but forced himself to stop. Clark realized Bruce was letting him have control, an honor he was sure wasn’t awarded to many. So Clark accepted that control by forcing Bruce to his rhythm. He kept the pace slow, steady and not stimulating enough for Bruce to climax. When Clark was good and ready, he pulled his head away while inserting a fourth finger. Bruce came on his face in glorious spray that was almost enough for Clark to climax.
Clark stood, and lifting Bruce and carrying him to the bed while hugging and kissing on him. He laid Bruce on his back on the bed and eyed his target hungrily. Bruce grabbed a pillow and stuffed it under his hips before spreading his bent legs. Clark used the cum on his face to lubricate himself before lowering his body down and slowly penetrating Bruce. It was warm and seductive like a vagina, but lined with powerful muscles and an unmatched tightness and friction. It felt so perfect he had to force himself to pull out. He couldn’t remember if Bruce had emerged completely before going back in, so he tried it. It slowed down the pace, prolonging the pleasure. A few minutes of this and he was pleased to note Bruce was hard again. Clark looked into Bruce’s eyes and notice he was still there, analyzing and recording. Clark responded by increasing the tempo, but slowly. He wanted to go faster, he was so close himself but he held out until Bruce moaned. It was a deep, guttural noise and his eyes were losing focus. It was such a beautiful, rewarding sight to see Bruce so far gone that Clark came at the same instant as Bruce. A few secondary convulsions and Clark held himself perfectly still as a fully formed thought leaped into his brain. He was going to stay like this forever; a permanent part of Bruce! Except Bruce was Batman, and he was moving before the fluids even stopped dripping. He separated them and curled up on his side.
“So now that you’re sated, you’re going to take me home?” Bruce asked while managing not to sound too petulant.
Clark rested his chin on Bruce’s head as he lay down and fitted his body to Bruce’s back. “Nope. You wore me out and now I need rest. You may be nearly perfect physically, but you still need sleep. How long has it been since you got eight hours sleep anyway?”
“Decades.” Bruce responded before he could censor himself. Oddly, he felt compelled to explain, something he tended to avoid. “At first, it was nightmares about my parent’s deaths, then gory dreams of revenge. Now I’ve been trained to make do without sleep, and it’s very unlikely I’ll manage to sleep while sharing a bed.”
Bruce moved distinctly away from his bedfellow and toward the edge. Clark shifted with him and then wrapped an arm and a leg over him to prevent him from moving further. A few words to the AI, and the lights lowered. The room was the perfect temperature, and when combined with their mingled body heat they didn’t need covering. Bruce had been on plenty of beds, but never one as comfortable as this. He could go to sleep here, cuddling with an unstoppable man from another planet and he was bothered by how little that idea bothered him! Bruce had experienced great sex before but didn’t equate that with the feeling of comfort that engulfed him now.
Batman had studied Superman since he first appeared in the news and had watched him as a potential threat. When they finally met Superman had seemed emotionally unstable, an account that didn’t tally with the hero on the news. Maybe he only got that way around Batman or Brucie, as both were extremely good at pushing people’s buttons. Putting people off kilter made them easier prey in the business world as well as the criminal, and Superman had reacted like a human. So if Superman was more human than he seemed, wasn’t that a good thing? It emotionally tied him to this world, so he’d do his best to protect it and not attempt to seize control. That was Batman’s concern with Superman and he’d continue plan for eventualities; but right now he was content to lie here. Bruce also like lying here and Superman didn’t seem to care which of them he was with.
Maybe that was the problem which was causing such comfort; with Superman he could be either Brucie or Batman or both or neither. Who was he when he wasn’t Batman or Brucie Wayne? Up till now, being two people had been more than enough and Superman made him want to be a third person, one worthy of love. But Gotham was too important to forget about in the search for personal happiness, so he’d stick with the two people he already was. It’d have to been enough, and when it wasn’t he could come to Superman. A place where he didn’t have to be in control. That would allow him to focus on his mission while maintaining optimum mental health and releasing sexual tensions in a healthy way. It was a comfort that was more than he could hope for, and it’d have to be enough. Bruce didn’t allow himself to smile, lest Clark was watching but he was ready to sleep until Clark spoke.
Clark had been silently marveling at the man wrapped in his body, thinking all the compliments Batman was too mission oriented to let him say. The beauty, the grace, the skills, the passion, the intelligence, the knowledge, all held together with an indomitable will! If this world ever got Superman depressed, he could go to the world’s greatest realist who thrived in the dark places of the world and find joy and purpose again. Batman had overwhelmed him by the force of his presence, scared him out of Gotham with insults and a few well chosen words. Brucie had seduced him into a world of sex and pleasure without consequences. Together, they made a person that would always challenge Clark emotionally, physically and mentally. Clark had always loved a challenge! In fact, he …
“Oh, crap!”
Clark hadn’t realized he finished his startling thought out loud until Bruce rolled over. Wide awake and questioning, he waited patiently for Clark to explain. Clark gently brushed his hand down the side of Bruce’s face before speaking.
“I, Clark Kent/Superman/Kal-el, son of Jor-el, am hopelessly in love with Bruce “Batman” Wayne.”
Bruce was on his feet in an instant, pillow hiding his manhood, chaotic emotions on his face. Clark almost laughed, this was the reaction he expected when he told Batman he knew who he was (though with less clothes)! Bruce found rushed words to mutter from behind his hand held up in a stop gesture.
“OK, I can see where you might think that. I am a great lay; I worked hard to become so. Lust and its aftereffects can confuse the emotions. There are so many chemicals and hormones floating around your body after sex that you could fall in love with an intimate object. Once you understand this, it’s a lot easier to let that false emotion be reabsorbed with the hormones that created it.”
Now Clark did laugh. “Actually, I thought about it very logically before I came to that conclusion.”
Bruce started pacing perpendicular to Clark’s position on the bed, an exercise that afforded Clark a great view of what the pillow was not covering.
“OK, you believe it now. The sex was great, but it was supposed to help you get it out of your system. Equating love with lust just shows that you are lonely and need someone in your life. But I’m not going to take advantage of you in such an emotionally vulnerable state. Take me home, stay out of Gotham for five or ten years. Find a nice, normal woman or man, somebody with no need to hide their face from the world. Date that person, be married for fifteen years and then if you say you love me, I’ll believe it. Sound fair?”
Clark was suddenly there, hugging Bruce from behind. “That’s it Bruce, make me work for it. Challenge me and make my love stronger.”
“I’m serious, Clark, let it go. We can revisit this when we’re older and free of our duties.”
Clark tried to picture how old Bruce would be when he gave up the mantle and found he couldn’t. He was surprised at this failure of the imagination until a voice in the back of his head, a voice that sounded like Batman, whispered. ‘Bruce will never get old. Batman will take his life before that can happen.’ Clark knew this to be true, because Bruce was human and not infallible or invulnerable.
“Go shower and I’ll take you back.” Clark was surprised at how sad and defeated his voice was as he slowly released Bruce. He wasn’t sure of how long he’d live, but felt in his heart that it would be a lot longer than Bruce. Instead of giving up, in an instant his heart and soul resolved to spend as much time with Bruce as he could in preparation for those lonely years. He had time on his side; he would find a way to make Bruce love him! Work together; spend time as friends until he was indispensable in Bruce’s life. He’d figure out who he had to be to make Bruce love him and he’d be that person. Having decided that, Clark felt a little physical activity would help his case so he joined Bruce in the shower. Bruce stopped washing his arm when he saw Clark bringing expectant little smile, and Bruce buried his face in his soap free hand.
“Kal-El.” Was all the recrimination he could think of to say as he shook his head in exasperation.
It was the wrong thing to say. The sound of his birth name on Bruce’s lips excited him in ways he couldn’t understand. Clark was instantly hard again, and in short order, so was Bruce. Life wouldn’t be perfect until Bruce loved him, but this was close enough for now.
Chapter: 3/3
Fandom: Comicverse
Characters/Pairing: Clark/Bruce
Rating: PG-17
Summary: Clark investigates Gotham and learns her citizens have classes on how to drive him bat-crazy!
Disclaimer: All monies made will be sent to the Wayne Enterprise approved Charities
Author's Notes: Previously posted on World's finest.
Chapter 2
Clark used his contacts to make sure Wayne’s private plane left Metropolis the next morning and settled down to his work at the Daily Planet. By concentrating on his work, he made it through the day but when night came he found himself turning hungrily toward Gotham. It was a slow night, so when Clark’s cell phone rang, he went back to the apartment to answer it. A glance showed it was from a blocked caller, and therefore probably a wrong number, but he answered anyway.
“Hello?”
“There’s a riot at Blackgate prison that Superman should attend to.”
Clark forgot to breathe as that voice growled out his statement. The phone clicked of as soon as Batman was done talking. Numb, he tried to call back only to get a recording of an operator. Batman wouldn’t call up some random reporter hoping to get in touch with Superman, which meant he knew! How could he know? They had only met twice! People he had known for years hadn’t figured it out. He listened toward Bludhaven’s prison and decided Batman was right, there was a riot going on. He couldn’t ignore the riot, so he flew to it while planning the conversation he’d have with Batman afterwards.
Police sirens were still a ways off when he arrived, so Clark just started making his way through the prison. He was knocking out the particularly violent and tying up everybody with whatever was handy as he went. It wasn’t particularly hard work but there were a lot of prisoners, so the exercise helped to clear his mind. He could try to play it off, tell Batman he heard riot and knew nothing about a phone call. He doubted it would work but trying was better than losing his secret identity!
As he worked his way to the offices, Clark began to wonder why all the people he came across had random things on their heads as makeshift electronic devices. Hats or cloth he could understand but this guy had duct taped a toilet seat on his bald head! Clark eventually made it to the administrative offices only to find them sealed. He x-rayed the doors to see if he needed to break it open and saw a dozen people sprawled on the floor. One person was tying them up so he forced his way in. He sped across the room and yanked that person up and around, only to see that he didn’t have a face.
“Batman!” He switched back to normal vision and tried to make it seem like he knew who it was all along. “What are you doing outside Gotham?”
“Rescuing hostages.”
“If you are rescuing them, why are they all unconscious?” Make it sound like he didn’t trust Batman’s work, and that’s why he’d interrupted him!
“The gas I dropped through the air vent knocked everybody out so they wouldn’t get hurt.” Infuriatingly calm, Batman spoke as if this was all completely obvious and reasonable. “If you hadn’t been distracting him by attacking his drones, the Mad Hatter might’ve been able to hurt a hostage before the gas took effect, so you helped.”
He had just taken out almost two thousand prisoners and Batman said he helped! It was kind of like scoring the most goals and only getting a participation trophy. Was there a class in Gotham on how to make him angry? Move past the anger, he told himself, focus on what that irritating flying rat is talking about.
“The Mad Hatter was transferred out here for trial and they let him near a computer. This time his device made everyone controlled want to go out and forcibly recruit people with whatever was handy. I’ve been checking on him daily and was close enough that when I couldn’t get any footage I stopped by to check things out. When I saw what was happening, I called the police but I needed a quicker distraction, so I called you.”
That proved it, not only was Batman trying to treat him like crap, Batman knew he was Clark Kent! And then Batman was moving, moving so fast it was like he had the super speed. Superman whirled around to see what was going on. One of the hostage takers Batman had not tied up yet when Clark interrupted him was aiming a gun at them. Batman was in front of it and moving toward the man! The gun fired and Batman didn’t even seem to notice as he knocked the man unconscious, removed the gun and tied him up. Batman deftly removed the top hat off a pudgy little man and went around to finish tying people up. Clark would’ve apologized for interrupting and causing him to be shot had it been anyone other than Batman!
Instead he asked in a calm, unemotional voice Batman should’ve approved of. “Are you injured?”
“No, it was only a .22.” Superman nodded because he understood that. He recalled reading an article about police issue body armor stopping bullets up to a certain size, but if they got large enough they could bruise or even break ribs. Clark’s insides contracted like they were getting sucked into a vacuum cleaner. Batman was standing up, examining the Mad Hatter’s control device so Clark x-rayed under the blocked face. Three recently healed ribs, the top one re-broken with a golf ball sized bruise over it. Without a single coherent thought, Clark ripped the device out of Batman’s hands and tucked him under his arm like an errant child.
As they flew out of the corridors of tied up prisoners, Batman calmly remarked. “If you could just drop me by the Batwing out in the woods behind the prison, that would be great.”
Superman took to the sky and Batman added, with annoyance in his voice. “Gotham would be fine; I can always come back for the Batwing.”
It wasn’t a conscious decision, but Clark was taking him home. He pulled Batman closer to his body and wrapped him in his red cape before flying north at top speed.
Somewhere over Canada a low, threatening voice spoke but it didn’t even make Clark hesitate. “I am not amused.”
Almost at the North Pole, Clark descended and took them into the fortress. By this time Batman was shivering so he took him straight to the bedroom. Clark placed him beside the bed and told the A.I. to adjust the heat. Batman didn’t understand the language so he just stood there glaring and trying not to show how cold he was. Clark now knew better than to try and match that intimidating stare, so he decided to be considerate.
“I told the A.I. to warm up the room for you. It won’t take too long, but a hot shower will help you warm up quicker.” Batman looked like he was going to stay as he was, but finally he moved his cape and sat on the bed. He started with the gauntlets, which were apparently more complex than just a zipper. Hands free, he bent over to start unlacing the boots. Even with his mind blank and his emotions in turmoil, Clark felt desire stir at this strange strip. He zipped to the kitchen, gathered up a tray of food and returned.
“I’ve got some fruit and cheese if you’re hungry, but only water to drink. I usually eat at the apartment so I don’t keep much here besides the fruit that grows in the greenhouse.”
Batman shrugged as he carried his boots and gloves over to a shelf. “That’ll be fine for now, but for a longer stay I would require more nutritional variety.”
Wait, was Batman suggesting a sleepover? Clark wondered, so he came back with the original line, “What?”
“That was a subtle way of asking how long you were going to keep me here.” The cape joined the boots on the shelf. “Though I think imprisoning me is a very dramatic response to a request for a professional consultation.”
“Imprisoning, request, consultation!” Clark sputtered for a while before calming down enough to respond coherently. “There is so much wrong with that sentence, I don’t even know where to start. Bruce.”
He added the name separately and distinctly so there would be no way Batman didn’t hear. That notable, however, simply finished placing his cape on the shelf and moved on to his mask. Clark stared his confusion at Bruce’s back, why hadn’t he reacted?
“I’d like to know how you figured it out, so I can adjust my disguise.” Bruce said as he laid his mask on the shelf, voice between Batman and Brucie. Not the response Clark figured he would get, but he went with it.
“You don’t have to worry, I had to x-ray you to figure it out.” Bruce favored him with a quizzical look, even as he started to remove his body armor. Clark continued with only a few embarrassing pauses as he tried to avoid mentioning the mind-blowing sex. “The first time when you, ah, held the press luncheon about your Metropolis project, I noticed the three broken ribs. After the grand opening ceremony, I was bored while you were on the phone and checked to see how they were healing. The top one of the three was broke again, which I thought was weird.”
Bruce held his chest armor in one hand as he prodded around the rib in question. “I wasn’t sure if that one was broke or not.”
Superman had never had a broken bone, and was seriously concerned by Bruce’s lack of concern. But he was distracted as Bruce put his chest armor up and reached for his utility belt. Of course Bruce saved the belt for next to last, put off being separated from his essential tools as long as possible. Clark forced his mind back to what he’d been saying, because once those pants came off he doubted he would remember.
“So when I checked to make sure you weren’t hurt after that prisoner shot you, I…” Clark trailed off, as Bruce had whirled around and was looking at him with Batman eyes, narrowed, dangerous and scary pissed.
“You. Just. Figured. It. Out. Tonight?”
Anyone with half a brain would be afraid of that tone, but Clark pushed that instinctive fear aside. This was his fortress, and a quick scan showed Batman didn’t have his lead lined pouch tonight. In a straight up fight, nobody on this planet could match him. So he squared his shoulders and faced Batman’s disapproval.
“Yeah, so?”
“You went up to see Wayne as Clark, and slept with him as Superman. Your only disguise was a pair of glasses, which came off when you were naked with him before. And you didn’t expect anyone to figure out the connection between you? Wayne, his staff, random people with access to the security footage outside the hotel room?”
Clark shrugged dismissively. “Nobody has figured it out yet, so the glasses really do work.”
“I figured it out!”
This time Clark’s shrug was heartfelt, as was his smile. “You’re special, though.”
Bruce sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up nicely. “Look, if you want to maintain you secret identity, you’re going to have to be more careful from now on. I’ll help when I can, but you should make sure those who know one do not get direct contact with the other. Since I’m not your prisoner, I’ll warm up under the shower, get dressed and let you take me home.”
“Ah, no.” Bruce looked like Batman was seriously considering trying to take on Superman, so Clark stepped close enough to share his body heat. He ran his hand through Bruce’s hair and said in a husky voice he hardly recognized as his own. “I just thought of a better way to heat you up.”
He leaned forward and found Bruce’s cold fingers instead of his lips. “No. It’s still night in Gotham, and things there require my attention.”
Clark laughed and began gently rubbing warmth back into Bruce’s flesh. “Yes, and if you started walking now, how many nights do you think would pass before you reached Gotham? Before I take you anywhere, you’re going to warm up, in more ways than one!”
Bruce closed his eyes, rolled his head around, and then relaxed completely with a deep breath. His belt thudded to the floor and while he removed his pants, Clark removed everything he had on. There was a long moment where they just regarded each other, until Clark realized he was the seducer here; it was his place to act! Reaching for Bruce’s penis, he dropped to his knees and discovered he didn’t like the position. He felt vulnerable, even though he knew he wasn’t. How had Bruce done it and still maintained control of the situation? Of course, that was what had attracted him to Batman and Brucie, they made him lose control! Most of the time he couldn’t risk that, as it’d be so easy for him to hurt somebody. The man before him had been hurt so often and so bad, that his tolerance was high and he could handle almost anything. Clark would be careful with Bruce, but he would also be safe with him! He was nigh invulnerable, but it took a naked Batman to make him fill safe. Clark smiled at the thought even as he pulled his hands away from Bruce’s now erect penis and leaned forward.
He licked the tip and it jerked while Bruce remained perfectly still. He didn’t know they could do that, had his ever done that and he simply hadn’t noticed? He worked the tip until he got a surprisingly salty taste on his tongue. Pre-cum he figured, and took this as a sign to move on. He let his mouth play with Bruce’s balls for a while, while his hands squeezed Bruce’s perfectly formed buttocks. As he moved from the balls to the shaft, he snuck a finger into his mouth and wetted it thoroughly. Even as he toyed with the shaft, he inserted his finger into Bruce’s hole. When he moved to the tip again, he inserted a second finger. Bruce responded by digging his fingers into Clark’s hair. With the third finger, Bruce started to thrust but forced himself to stop. Clark realized Bruce was letting him have control, an honor he was sure wasn’t awarded to many. So Clark accepted that control by forcing Bruce to his rhythm. He kept the pace slow, steady and not stimulating enough for Bruce to climax. When Clark was good and ready, he pulled his head away while inserting a fourth finger. Bruce came on his face in glorious spray that was almost enough for Clark to climax.
Clark stood, and lifting Bruce and carrying him to the bed while hugging and kissing on him. He laid Bruce on his back on the bed and eyed his target hungrily. Bruce grabbed a pillow and stuffed it under his hips before spreading his bent legs. Clark used the cum on his face to lubricate himself before lowering his body down and slowly penetrating Bruce. It was warm and seductive like a vagina, but lined with powerful muscles and an unmatched tightness and friction. It felt so perfect he had to force himself to pull out. He couldn’t remember if Bruce had emerged completely before going back in, so he tried it. It slowed down the pace, prolonging the pleasure. A few minutes of this and he was pleased to note Bruce was hard again. Clark looked into Bruce’s eyes and notice he was still there, analyzing and recording. Clark responded by increasing the tempo, but slowly. He wanted to go faster, he was so close himself but he held out until Bruce moaned. It was a deep, guttural noise and his eyes were losing focus. It was such a beautiful, rewarding sight to see Bruce so far gone that Clark came at the same instant as Bruce. A few secondary convulsions and Clark held himself perfectly still as a fully formed thought leaped into his brain. He was going to stay like this forever; a permanent part of Bruce! Except Bruce was Batman, and he was moving before the fluids even stopped dripping. He separated them and curled up on his side.
“So now that you’re sated, you’re going to take me home?” Bruce asked while managing not to sound too petulant.
Clark rested his chin on Bruce’s head as he lay down and fitted his body to Bruce’s back. “Nope. You wore me out and now I need rest. You may be nearly perfect physically, but you still need sleep. How long has it been since you got eight hours sleep anyway?”
“Decades.” Bruce responded before he could censor himself. Oddly, he felt compelled to explain, something he tended to avoid. “At first, it was nightmares about my parent’s deaths, then gory dreams of revenge. Now I’ve been trained to make do without sleep, and it’s very unlikely I’ll manage to sleep while sharing a bed.”
Bruce moved distinctly away from his bedfellow and toward the edge. Clark shifted with him and then wrapped an arm and a leg over him to prevent him from moving further. A few words to the AI, and the lights lowered. The room was the perfect temperature, and when combined with their mingled body heat they didn’t need covering. Bruce had been on plenty of beds, but never one as comfortable as this. He could go to sleep here, cuddling with an unstoppable man from another planet and he was bothered by how little that idea bothered him! Bruce had experienced great sex before but didn’t equate that with the feeling of comfort that engulfed him now.
Batman had studied Superman since he first appeared in the news and had watched him as a potential threat. When they finally met Superman had seemed emotionally unstable, an account that didn’t tally with the hero on the news. Maybe he only got that way around Batman or Brucie, as both were extremely good at pushing people’s buttons. Putting people off kilter made them easier prey in the business world as well as the criminal, and Superman had reacted like a human. So if Superman was more human than he seemed, wasn’t that a good thing? It emotionally tied him to this world, so he’d do his best to protect it and not attempt to seize control. That was Batman’s concern with Superman and he’d continue plan for eventualities; but right now he was content to lie here. Bruce also like lying here and Superman didn’t seem to care which of them he was with.
Maybe that was the problem which was causing such comfort; with Superman he could be either Brucie or Batman or both or neither. Who was he when he wasn’t Batman or Brucie Wayne? Up till now, being two people had been more than enough and Superman made him want to be a third person, one worthy of love. But Gotham was too important to forget about in the search for personal happiness, so he’d stick with the two people he already was. It’d have to been enough, and when it wasn’t he could come to Superman. A place where he didn’t have to be in control. That would allow him to focus on his mission while maintaining optimum mental health and releasing sexual tensions in a healthy way. It was a comfort that was more than he could hope for, and it’d have to be enough. Bruce didn’t allow himself to smile, lest Clark was watching but he was ready to sleep until Clark spoke.
Clark had been silently marveling at the man wrapped in his body, thinking all the compliments Batman was too mission oriented to let him say. The beauty, the grace, the skills, the passion, the intelligence, the knowledge, all held together with an indomitable will! If this world ever got Superman depressed, he could go to the world’s greatest realist who thrived in the dark places of the world and find joy and purpose again. Batman had overwhelmed him by the force of his presence, scared him out of Gotham with insults and a few well chosen words. Brucie had seduced him into a world of sex and pleasure without consequences. Together, they made a person that would always challenge Clark emotionally, physically and mentally. Clark had always loved a challenge! In fact, he …
“Oh, crap!”
Clark hadn’t realized he finished his startling thought out loud until Bruce rolled over. Wide awake and questioning, he waited patiently for Clark to explain. Clark gently brushed his hand down the side of Bruce’s face before speaking.
“I, Clark Kent/Superman/Kal-el, son of Jor-el, am hopelessly in love with Bruce “Batman” Wayne.”
Bruce was on his feet in an instant, pillow hiding his manhood, chaotic emotions on his face. Clark almost laughed, this was the reaction he expected when he told Batman he knew who he was (though with less clothes)! Bruce found rushed words to mutter from behind his hand held up in a stop gesture.
“OK, I can see where you might think that. I am a great lay; I worked hard to become so. Lust and its aftereffects can confuse the emotions. There are so many chemicals and hormones floating around your body after sex that you could fall in love with an intimate object. Once you understand this, it’s a lot easier to let that false emotion be reabsorbed with the hormones that created it.”
Now Clark did laugh. “Actually, I thought about it very logically before I came to that conclusion.”
Bruce started pacing perpendicular to Clark’s position on the bed, an exercise that afforded Clark a great view of what the pillow was not covering.
“OK, you believe it now. The sex was great, but it was supposed to help you get it out of your system. Equating love with lust just shows that you are lonely and need someone in your life. But I’m not going to take advantage of you in such an emotionally vulnerable state. Take me home, stay out of Gotham for five or ten years. Find a nice, normal woman or man, somebody with no need to hide their face from the world. Date that person, be married for fifteen years and then if you say you love me, I’ll believe it. Sound fair?”
Clark was suddenly there, hugging Bruce from behind. “That’s it Bruce, make me work for it. Challenge me and make my love stronger.”
“I’m serious, Clark, let it go. We can revisit this when we’re older and free of our duties.”
Clark tried to picture how old Bruce would be when he gave up the mantle and found he couldn’t. He was surprised at this failure of the imagination until a voice in the back of his head, a voice that sounded like Batman, whispered. ‘Bruce will never get old. Batman will take his life before that can happen.’ Clark knew this to be true, because Bruce was human and not infallible or invulnerable.
“Go shower and I’ll take you back.” Clark was surprised at how sad and defeated his voice was as he slowly released Bruce. He wasn’t sure of how long he’d live, but felt in his heart that it would be a lot longer than Bruce. Instead of giving up, in an instant his heart and soul resolved to spend as much time with Bruce as he could in preparation for those lonely years. He had time on his side; he would find a way to make Bruce love him! Work together; spend time as friends until he was indispensable in Bruce’s life. He’d figure out who he had to be to make Bruce love him and he’d be that person. Having decided that, Clark felt a little physical activity would help his case so he joined Bruce in the shower. Bruce stopped washing his arm when he saw Clark bringing expectant little smile, and Bruce buried his face in his soap free hand.
“Kal-El.” Was all the recrimination he could think of to say as he shook his head in exasperation.
It was the wrong thing to say. The sound of his birth name on Bruce’s lips excited him in ways he couldn’t understand. Clark was instantly hard again, and in short order, so was Bruce. Life wouldn’t be perfect until Bruce loved him, but this was close enough for now.
