Fic: Everything Will Be Alright; S/B, NC-17
Title: Everything Will Be Alright
Author: Aravis Tarkheena
Pairing: S/B (Bruce/Clark)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Angst, sex, sad Clark. :(
Disclaimer: Not Mine
Word Count: 3300 or so.
Author’s Notes: World's Finest Gift exchange fic. I don’t know who it’s for because they didn’t want to be named.
Prompt: F09; ‘Comic Verse-Bruce has Poison Ivy’s powers. They how and why don’t matter, but it would be interesting to see how that would change the S/B dynamic. Sex pollen and/or mind control are a bonus’
Everything Will Be Alright
“We talked it over, and we decided it would be for the best.” Clark’s voice was calm and even as he spoke but Bruce could tell he was struggling for composure.
Bruce took a few moments to absorb what Clark had just told him. The pronouncement came as something of a shock to Bruce. Clark’s demeanor had been decidedly more solemn since he and Diana had returned from on Brazengob. The two had been involved in helping stop genocide. Diana had told Bruce that things had hit Clark pretty hard.
She told Bruce horror stories about mass killings, rapes and brutal beatings. She had detailed one instance just after a treaty had been made between the two warring factions where a young boy was brutally slaughtered just as Clark was announcing the treaty to the crowd. Clark had rushed in to try and save the boy, but had ended up with an arm full of crushed skull and eviscerated entrails.
Diana said that Clark would not speak to her for nearly all of the three day trip back. She said that they had both seen death and violence before; that they had failed people before, but nothing compared to what happened at Brazengob; the sheer brutal violence of it all.
Clark had not been the same since he returned. He was quieter and did not smile as often. He took things more seriously and was reluctant to get involved in anything that happened outside their solar system. He was not as charismatic as he had been, and he often kept to himself more often. The other members of the JLA often expressed concern or worry about Clark, but he would just brush them off and claim that he was fine.
When Bruce was upset about something, people hardly noticed, they just assumed he was being moodier than usual. However, when someone who is generally happy and pleasant, like Clark, is sad everyone notices. The impact is huge and affects everyone around them.
Just like Clark’s change in attitude had affected Lois.
Bruce did not believe in romances that lasted forever, he watched his friends get together and break up. He was never surprised when couples changed and broke up. Though, he never expected it of Clark and Lois.
Clark loved her too much. They doted on each other in their own ways and they had worked so hard to make their relationship work. The thought of the two of them splitting up had never even entered Bruce’s mind.
It must have gotten bad if Lois decided she needed to leave.
“Clark,” Bruce began, hesitantly. “Clark, I know you’ve made your decision, but you and Lois have worked though so much…”
“I guess it was about time we found something we couldn’t work through.”
Bruce expected him to elaborate, but Clark just left. Bruce was used to Clark being more open, but ever since the incident, Clark had been more closed off. Mostly with Lois, but even he was feeling the effects.
Bruce sighed and tried to ignore the hollow sadness in his chest.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
“Doesn’t being hit by lightening while in a vat of water usually kill a person?” Clark asked sardonically as Bruce toweled plant food rich water out of his hair. He smelled like a burnt green house and he felt like he had fallen off a building. Bruce knew that he should just feel lucky to be alive, but right now he was feeling downright annoyed and was starting to wish he had not called Clark at all. Ever since he broke it off with Lois ten months ago, Clark’s wit and observations had become more biting and caustic.
It was hard to be around him sometimes.
When Bruce was upset about something, people did not always notice. But when someone who is generally a happy and pleased person, like Clark, is sad, everyone notices.
Bruce wished he could do something about it.
He had realized a long time ago that no one ever grew out of the impulse to curl up in someone’s lap and have them tell you, no matter how untruthfully, that everything would be ok. Bruce often found himself wishing he could do it for Clark.
Instead he retreated back into their usual banter in the hopes that the normalcy of it would put Clark at ease and maybe heal some old wounds.
“Oh, like you’ve never been hit by lightening.” Bruce countered and started to peel off his uniform.
“It’s different, I’m an alien. For all we know, Kryptonians played with large amounts of chemicals and electricity for fun all the time.” Clark said as he tilted to the side to lean one strong shoulder against the stone wall of the cave’s med section. His voice was light and teasing, but his eyes were serious and full of concern. Bruce was having a hard time looking directly into them so he scowled down at his boots as he replied.
“We do know, and that’s not true at all. Besides, I didn’t call you here to discuss the probability of my state, I called you here to check it. Poison Ivy seemed fine after she got out of the water, but she’s a meta. Tim and I ran a pile of med tests on myself earlier, before I even cleaned off. I just want to know if you noticed anything-- out of the ordinary-about me.”
Clark did not say anything for a long time, but his head was cocked to the side in a manner that indicated deep listening. “Your body functions all sound normal, exactly the way they always sound. Take off the rest of your suit and I’ll scan you with my x-ray vision quick.”
As Bruce removed the rest of his costume-except for his boxer briefs, a man had to have some modesty after all-he watched as Clark’s nostrils flared. Super-scent was not a power that Clark used often and sometimes Bruce forgot he even had it.
Clark’s nostrils flared a second time as he took another deep breath and the pupils in his sky blue eyes flared as he took another breath. They were huge and his eyes were wide and Clark began to blink rapidly.
Clark swallowed hard and licked his lips.
“You seem fine. Everything looks alright. I have to go, though. Bye, Bruce.” His voice was low and breathy and his eyes were blow out and almost panicky in a way that Bruce had never seen on Clark before. Not even after months of working together.
He was gone by the time Bruce managed to choke out, “What about smell? Do I smell right?”
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Clark broke the sound barrier getting back to his apartment and almost did not make it through the window before he pulled down his tights and wrapped his fingers around his cock. He gasped as his fist closed around hard, hot flesh and he could not remember ever wanting to come this badly before.
God, who was he kidding? This was not about needing to come, it was not about sex or hormones. It was about Bruce. It was about wanting to come for Bruce.
For Bruce, with Bruce, in Bruce, on Bruce, anything so long as it was him. Clark was practically sobbing as he thought about it. He thought about Bruce and jerked himself off harder than he ever had in his entire life.
When he came helplessly all over his bedroom floor he thought he would break or die or lose his mind or all those things at once but all he could see in his minds eye as his orgasm ripped through him was Bruce’s assessing eyes and those tempting boxer briefs.
“What was that all about?” Clark asked his empty room.
Of course there was no answer.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Bruce did not like the look Lucius was giving him, he did not like it at all. Being Gotham’s number one Play Boy, he was used to being sexually objectified. But not like this, and not by someone he trusted and respected.
Lucuis had always treated Bruce with formality laced with an air of exasperated amusement. Now there subtle sexual undertones in everything he said. It was making Bruce uncomfortable and as Lucius placed a ‘casual’ hand on Bruce’s thigh, Bruce decided it was time to get out of the office and blow off some steam.
Later that night, Batman pressed the Joker up against the wall and rasped into his face. “It’s time to go back to Arkham, Clown.”
The first odd thing Batman noticed was that The Joker did not struggle. He was not trying to get away and the gleam in his manic eyes made Batman nervous.
“I’ll go back, no trouble at all, Batsy, if you promise to do something for me.” Joker’s voice was low and breathy and Batman tried not to react to it. “You see, I’ve got this itch that I’m just dying to have you scratch for me…” Joker drawled and pressed himself firmly against Batman. He could feel the Joker’s erection through the thin material on the thigh of his suit.
Batman lifted a hand and pinched off the blood flow to Joker’s head until he fainted. Then he made a quick trip to Arkham to deposit the amorous Joker in his cell before rushing back to the Cave.
Bruce wanted answers and he wanted them now. It was pretty obvious that whatever had been effecting the other men in his life had effected Clark first. It was time to give the man a call.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
“Aw, Bruce I’m sorry, I can’t make it right now. I’m on deadline for Perry and I really need to get this article done…” Clark forced himself to give Bruce what seemed like the millionth lame excuse in the past three days. What he wanted was to say yes. He wanted to go over to that cave and hold Bruce so tightly in his arms that the man would not be able to twist away. He wanted to hold that muscled body flush against his own and-
“Clark, the Joker just came on to me.”
Clark saw red and the next thing he knew he was standing in front of a startled Bruce, who still held the receiver to his ear.
“He. Did. What?” Clark enunciated every word slowly, through tightly gritted teeth. The thought of that filthy psychopath making sexual overtures towards Bruce made Clark want to break something. Preferably Joker’s face.
Clark’s nostrils flared with the scent of Bruce and he suddenly remembered why he had tried to stay away from the man. He smelled amazing. Like everything Clark had ever dreamed of having. He wanted him. Wanted him badly.
Bruce’s cowl and belt were off, and his shirt was rucked up a little at hip so that Clark got a small glimpse of pale flesh and jutting hip bone. Clark wanted to bite it.
“That was fast.” Bruce’s normally gruff voice was light with surprise and his eyes were a little wide. They were beautiful and blue and the usual thin line of Bruce’s mouth was slack with shock. And his lips were wet.
Had he just taken a drink of water?
Had he licked them?
The thought of Bruce’s tongue making it’s slow, damp way over those soft looking lips made Clark feel a little dizzy around the eyes.
Why wasn’t he kissing him now?
“Clark? Clark what happened the last time you were here? Did you see something? Or… um… smell … something?” Bruce’s voice was barely registering. All Clark could see were Bruce’s lips moving in the dim light of the cave.
Clark had not even realized he was moving until he was standing chest to chest with Bruce, looking into those beautiful eyes. “You. I smelled you.” Clark managed to whisper before pulling Bruce into his arms and pressing his mouth firmly against those wonderful lips.
The dampness he had noticed earlier made the friction of their mouths against each other even better. Bruce’s mouth was slack and slightly open and Clark took Bruce’s lower lip between his teeth and bit down gently.
He heard Bruce’s sharp inhalation and opened his eyes to find Bruce’s wide with shock. Clark suppressed a low moan and lifted a hand to the back of Bruce’s neck to anchor Bruce’s head as Clark deepened the kiss and slid his tongue inside that hot, wet mouth.
He trailed his other hand down to Bruce’s hip to run a thumb over the soft skin over Bruce’s hipbone that was exposed by the rucked up shirt.
Clark’s eyes shot open in surprise when Bruce got his hands between them and pulled his mouth from Clark’s to gasp out, “Clark-Clark what the hell are you-“
The rest of the sentence petered off into a sharp cry of pleasure as Clark dipped his hand below the waist band of Bruce’s tights and gripped him through his boxers.
“Oh, Jesus.” Bruce hissed and rested his forehead on one of Clark’s shoulders. “Oh Jesus, this is a bad idea.”
Clark made a sound in the back of his throat. This was not a bad idea. This was a wonderful idea. Clark inhaled deeply and smelled Bruce again. God, he needed more of Bruce, more of him now. He needed to know if he tasted as good as he smelled.
He maneuvered the two of them to the nearest flat surface he could find and laid Bruce out on top of it.
It was the hood of the Batmobile. Clark lifted Bruce’s hips off the hood of the car with one had as he stripped off the tights and boxers with the other. He set Bruce back down and pushed the uniform top as high up off Bruce’s chest as he could reach, moving his hands over every inch of Bruce’s torso. Scratching and caressing and petting him everywhere until he was writhing and panting under Clark’s fingers and the smell of Bruce got stronger.
The sight of Bruce’s fingers scrabbling for purchase over the sleek, polished surface of the Batmobile’s hood made a violent bolt of lust shoot straight from Clark’s belly to his groin. Bruce’s erratic breathing and half suppressed groans only further served to heighten Clark’s passion as he renewed his efforts. Taking Bruce deep into his mouth and swallowing around him, letting his contracting throat muscles massage the tip of Bruce’s erection. Clark loved the feel of Bruce filling up his mouth, the ridges of the crown of his penis running along the roof of Clark’s mouth as he moved, catching on his teeth as he pulled up as far as he could making Bruce gasp and push his hips up, driving himself into Clark’s mouth.
Bruce chest heaved and he inhaled sharply as he threw his head back, body arching. Clark could see the sweat that had been collecting on Bruce’s forehead and temples run down the side of this face and drip onto the black paint.
Clark moved his hands from where they were massaging Bruce’s balls to shift them to the man’s hips, pulling Bruce’s tights the rest of the way down and off. Bruce gasped as the overheated skin of his ass met the cool metal of the Batmobile’s hood.
Clark stood and looked down at Bruce, sprawled wantonly on the hood of his car. Bruce’s cowl-less face, his mouth gasping and panting, lips wet with saliva, begging to be kissed and bitten. His shirt was rucked up to his armpits obscuring his bat-symbol and revealing his small pert nipples, hardened from the cool, damp air of the cave. Bruce’s bare legs splayed out as his heels rested on the bumper of his sleek machine. Perfect white hips framing a mass of dark curls in which rested an erection flushed pink with blood, shining in the dim light of the cave from Clark’s saliva. Clark’s mouth went dry at the sight.
Bruce looked up at him with half lidded eyes and made a low sound in the back of his throat. Clark nearly lost it.
He would have Bruce and he would have him now.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Bruce woke up several hours later in his own bed with Clark sleeping on top of him.
Bruce looked into Clark’s nervous face. “What happened?”
“We-uh-We had sex…” Clark said sheepishly and Bruce rolled his eyes.
“Yes, but why? I’ve never seen you like that before; it was like you were drunk.”
“It was just that-“ Clark took a deep breath, “I couldn’t help it. You smell so good…”
“I smelled good?”
“Yeah, like some sort of perfume…”
Bruce tried not to worry about the implications of it all. He had started to wonder if maybe he had somehow picked up Ivy’s pheromones after the incident with Joker. When he had arrived home scrubbed off as well as he could before calling Clark over. Clearly he had not washed well enough.
A niggling little part of him was grateful. Passing interest in Clark, physically, was much different from having a night of intense sex with him.
It made him look at Clark in a whole new light.
Bruce sighed and decided to have out with it. For some reason it seemed easier to be more open and patient with a man who, at one point, had Bruce’s penis in his mouth. Go figure. “I suspect I somehow managed to acquire Ivy’s pheromones when we were in that vat. I think it effected you so strongly because of your Super Smell. We need to figure out how it changed me, chemically, and then fix it, chemically.”
Clark breathed in deeply and gave Bruce a slow grin as he rolled over on top of him again. “Do we have to?” He nuzzled Bruce’s and neck. “You smell so good.”
“Joker.” Bruce tried to keep his voice low and firm, but it was difficult with Clark nipping little kisses across his neck. Though when Clark growled and sucked a mark possessively on Bruce’s pale throat, Bruce was pretty sure Clark had conceded the point.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Three weeks of intense love making, narrowly avoiding sexual harassment and pillow talk with Clark later, Bruce gladly stepped into the vat of chemicals. Clark looked on with a hint of regret in his eyes, but Bruce knew he understood. The memory of Clark’s stern talk with Joker, and Harvey, and the Mad Hatter of all people, made Clark’s understanding clear.
Bruce had found Clark’s protectiveness… nice. He would miss it when it was gone.
Stepping out of the vat of chemicals Bruce reached for a towel. He was surprised to be embraced from behind by strong arms.
Bruce was indignant. “It didn’t work!?”
Clark pressed his face into the crook of Bruce’s neck and chuckled. “No it worked, you smell terrible, and I think those chemicals fried your hair.” Bruce grunted in annoyance. “But, you’re still beautiful, and you’re still mine…”
Bruce leaned back into Clark, ignoring the stench of chemicals-If Clark, with his Super Smell, could; then so could he-sighed happily.
Clark was... better again. More affectionate. More open than he had been in years.
So Bruce turned and wrapped his arms around Clark as well, and mentally chanted to them both.
“See, everything will be alright. Just watch, everything will be alright.”
Author: Aravis Tarkheena
Pairing: S/B (Bruce/Clark)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Angst, sex, sad Clark. :(
Disclaimer: Not Mine
Word Count: 3300 or so.
Author’s Notes: World's Finest Gift exchange fic. I don’t know who it’s for because they didn’t want to be named.
Prompt: F09; ‘Comic Verse-Bruce has Poison Ivy’s powers. They how and why don’t matter, but it would be interesting to see how that would change the S/B dynamic. Sex pollen and/or mind control are a bonus’
Everything Will Be Alright
“We talked it over, and we decided it would be for the best.” Clark’s voice was calm and even as he spoke but Bruce could tell he was struggling for composure.
Bruce took a few moments to absorb what Clark had just told him. The pronouncement came as something of a shock to Bruce. Clark’s demeanor had been decidedly more solemn since he and Diana had returned from on Brazengob. The two had been involved in helping stop genocide. Diana had told Bruce that things had hit Clark pretty hard.
She told Bruce horror stories about mass killings, rapes and brutal beatings. She had detailed one instance just after a treaty had been made between the two warring factions where a young boy was brutally slaughtered just as Clark was announcing the treaty to the crowd. Clark had rushed in to try and save the boy, but had ended up with an arm full of crushed skull and eviscerated entrails.
Diana said that Clark would not speak to her for nearly all of the three day trip back. She said that they had both seen death and violence before; that they had failed people before, but nothing compared to what happened at Brazengob; the sheer brutal violence of it all.
Clark had not been the same since he returned. He was quieter and did not smile as often. He took things more seriously and was reluctant to get involved in anything that happened outside their solar system. He was not as charismatic as he had been, and he often kept to himself more often. The other members of the JLA often expressed concern or worry about Clark, but he would just brush them off and claim that he was fine.
When Bruce was upset about something, people hardly noticed, they just assumed he was being moodier than usual. However, when someone who is generally happy and pleasant, like Clark, is sad everyone notices. The impact is huge and affects everyone around them.
Just like Clark’s change in attitude had affected Lois.
Bruce did not believe in romances that lasted forever, he watched his friends get together and break up. He was never surprised when couples changed and broke up. Though, he never expected it of Clark and Lois.
Clark loved her too much. They doted on each other in their own ways and they had worked so hard to make their relationship work. The thought of the two of them splitting up had never even entered Bruce’s mind.
It must have gotten bad if Lois decided she needed to leave.
“Clark,” Bruce began, hesitantly. “Clark, I know you’ve made your decision, but you and Lois have worked though so much…”
“I guess it was about time we found something we couldn’t work through.”
Bruce expected him to elaborate, but Clark just left. Bruce was used to Clark being more open, but ever since the incident, Clark had been more closed off. Mostly with Lois, but even he was feeling the effects.
Bruce sighed and tried to ignore the hollow sadness in his chest.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
“Doesn’t being hit by lightening while in a vat of water usually kill a person?” Clark asked sardonically as Bruce toweled plant food rich water out of his hair. He smelled like a burnt green house and he felt like he had fallen off a building. Bruce knew that he should just feel lucky to be alive, but right now he was feeling downright annoyed and was starting to wish he had not called Clark at all. Ever since he broke it off with Lois ten months ago, Clark’s wit and observations had become more biting and caustic.
It was hard to be around him sometimes.
When Bruce was upset about something, people did not always notice. But when someone who is generally a happy and pleased person, like Clark, is sad, everyone notices.
Bruce wished he could do something about it.
He had realized a long time ago that no one ever grew out of the impulse to curl up in someone’s lap and have them tell you, no matter how untruthfully, that everything would be ok. Bruce often found himself wishing he could do it for Clark.
Instead he retreated back into their usual banter in the hopes that the normalcy of it would put Clark at ease and maybe heal some old wounds.
“Oh, like you’ve never been hit by lightening.” Bruce countered and started to peel off his uniform.
“It’s different, I’m an alien. For all we know, Kryptonians played with large amounts of chemicals and electricity for fun all the time.” Clark said as he tilted to the side to lean one strong shoulder against the stone wall of the cave’s med section. His voice was light and teasing, but his eyes were serious and full of concern. Bruce was having a hard time looking directly into them so he scowled down at his boots as he replied.
“We do know, and that’s not true at all. Besides, I didn’t call you here to discuss the probability of my state, I called you here to check it. Poison Ivy seemed fine after she got out of the water, but she’s a meta. Tim and I ran a pile of med tests on myself earlier, before I even cleaned off. I just want to know if you noticed anything-- out of the ordinary-about me.”
Clark did not say anything for a long time, but his head was cocked to the side in a manner that indicated deep listening. “Your body functions all sound normal, exactly the way they always sound. Take off the rest of your suit and I’ll scan you with my x-ray vision quick.”
As Bruce removed the rest of his costume-except for his boxer briefs, a man had to have some modesty after all-he watched as Clark’s nostrils flared. Super-scent was not a power that Clark used often and sometimes Bruce forgot he even had it.
Clark’s nostrils flared a second time as he took another deep breath and the pupils in his sky blue eyes flared as he took another breath. They were huge and his eyes were wide and Clark began to blink rapidly.
Clark swallowed hard and licked his lips.
“You seem fine. Everything looks alright. I have to go, though. Bye, Bruce.” His voice was low and breathy and his eyes were blow out and almost panicky in a way that Bruce had never seen on Clark before. Not even after months of working together.
He was gone by the time Bruce managed to choke out, “What about smell? Do I smell right?”
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Clark broke the sound barrier getting back to his apartment and almost did not make it through the window before he pulled down his tights and wrapped his fingers around his cock. He gasped as his fist closed around hard, hot flesh and he could not remember ever wanting to come this badly before.
God, who was he kidding? This was not about needing to come, it was not about sex or hormones. It was about Bruce. It was about wanting to come for Bruce.
For Bruce, with Bruce, in Bruce, on Bruce, anything so long as it was him. Clark was practically sobbing as he thought about it. He thought about Bruce and jerked himself off harder than he ever had in his entire life.
When he came helplessly all over his bedroom floor he thought he would break or die or lose his mind or all those things at once but all he could see in his minds eye as his orgasm ripped through him was Bruce’s assessing eyes and those tempting boxer briefs.
“What was that all about?” Clark asked his empty room.
Of course there was no answer.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Bruce did not like the look Lucius was giving him, he did not like it at all. Being Gotham’s number one Play Boy, he was used to being sexually objectified. But not like this, and not by someone he trusted and respected.
Lucuis had always treated Bruce with formality laced with an air of exasperated amusement. Now there subtle sexual undertones in everything he said. It was making Bruce uncomfortable and as Lucius placed a ‘casual’ hand on Bruce’s thigh, Bruce decided it was time to get out of the office and blow off some steam.
Later that night, Batman pressed the Joker up against the wall and rasped into his face. “It’s time to go back to Arkham, Clown.”
The first odd thing Batman noticed was that The Joker did not struggle. He was not trying to get away and the gleam in his manic eyes made Batman nervous.
“I’ll go back, no trouble at all, Batsy, if you promise to do something for me.” Joker’s voice was low and breathy and Batman tried not to react to it. “You see, I’ve got this itch that I’m just dying to have you scratch for me…” Joker drawled and pressed himself firmly against Batman. He could feel the Joker’s erection through the thin material on the thigh of his suit.
Batman lifted a hand and pinched off the blood flow to Joker’s head until he fainted. Then he made a quick trip to Arkham to deposit the amorous Joker in his cell before rushing back to the Cave.
Bruce wanted answers and he wanted them now. It was pretty obvious that whatever had been effecting the other men in his life had effected Clark first. It was time to give the man a call.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
“Aw, Bruce I’m sorry, I can’t make it right now. I’m on deadline for Perry and I really need to get this article done…” Clark forced himself to give Bruce what seemed like the millionth lame excuse in the past three days. What he wanted was to say yes. He wanted to go over to that cave and hold Bruce so tightly in his arms that the man would not be able to twist away. He wanted to hold that muscled body flush against his own and-
“Clark, the Joker just came on to me.”
Clark saw red and the next thing he knew he was standing in front of a startled Bruce, who still held the receiver to his ear.
“He. Did. What?” Clark enunciated every word slowly, through tightly gritted teeth. The thought of that filthy psychopath making sexual overtures towards Bruce made Clark want to break something. Preferably Joker’s face.
Clark’s nostrils flared with the scent of Bruce and he suddenly remembered why he had tried to stay away from the man. He smelled amazing. Like everything Clark had ever dreamed of having. He wanted him. Wanted him badly.
Bruce’s cowl and belt were off, and his shirt was rucked up a little at hip so that Clark got a small glimpse of pale flesh and jutting hip bone. Clark wanted to bite it.
“That was fast.” Bruce’s normally gruff voice was light with surprise and his eyes were a little wide. They were beautiful and blue and the usual thin line of Bruce’s mouth was slack with shock. And his lips were wet.
Had he just taken a drink of water?
Had he licked them?
The thought of Bruce’s tongue making it’s slow, damp way over those soft looking lips made Clark feel a little dizzy around the eyes.
Why wasn’t he kissing him now?
“Clark? Clark what happened the last time you were here? Did you see something? Or… um… smell … something?” Bruce’s voice was barely registering. All Clark could see were Bruce’s lips moving in the dim light of the cave.
Clark had not even realized he was moving until he was standing chest to chest with Bruce, looking into those beautiful eyes. “You. I smelled you.” Clark managed to whisper before pulling Bruce into his arms and pressing his mouth firmly against those wonderful lips.
The dampness he had noticed earlier made the friction of their mouths against each other even better. Bruce’s mouth was slack and slightly open and Clark took Bruce’s lower lip between his teeth and bit down gently.
He heard Bruce’s sharp inhalation and opened his eyes to find Bruce’s wide with shock. Clark suppressed a low moan and lifted a hand to the back of Bruce’s neck to anchor Bruce’s head as Clark deepened the kiss and slid his tongue inside that hot, wet mouth.
He trailed his other hand down to Bruce’s hip to run a thumb over the soft skin over Bruce’s hipbone that was exposed by the rucked up shirt.
Clark’s eyes shot open in surprise when Bruce got his hands between them and pulled his mouth from Clark’s to gasp out, “Clark-Clark what the hell are you-“
The rest of the sentence petered off into a sharp cry of pleasure as Clark dipped his hand below the waist band of Bruce’s tights and gripped him through his boxers.
“Oh, Jesus.” Bruce hissed and rested his forehead on one of Clark’s shoulders. “Oh Jesus, this is a bad idea.”
Clark made a sound in the back of his throat. This was not a bad idea. This was a wonderful idea. Clark inhaled deeply and smelled Bruce again. God, he needed more of Bruce, more of him now. He needed to know if he tasted as good as he smelled.
He maneuvered the two of them to the nearest flat surface he could find and laid Bruce out on top of it.
It was the hood of the Batmobile. Clark lifted Bruce’s hips off the hood of the car with one had as he stripped off the tights and boxers with the other. He set Bruce back down and pushed the uniform top as high up off Bruce’s chest as he could reach, moving his hands over every inch of Bruce’s torso. Scratching and caressing and petting him everywhere until he was writhing and panting under Clark’s fingers and the smell of Bruce got stronger.
The sight of Bruce’s fingers scrabbling for purchase over the sleek, polished surface of the Batmobile’s hood made a violent bolt of lust shoot straight from Clark’s belly to his groin. Bruce’s erratic breathing and half suppressed groans only further served to heighten Clark’s passion as he renewed his efforts. Taking Bruce deep into his mouth and swallowing around him, letting his contracting throat muscles massage the tip of Bruce’s erection. Clark loved the feel of Bruce filling up his mouth, the ridges of the crown of his penis running along the roof of Clark’s mouth as he moved, catching on his teeth as he pulled up as far as he could making Bruce gasp and push his hips up, driving himself into Clark’s mouth.
Bruce chest heaved and he inhaled sharply as he threw his head back, body arching. Clark could see the sweat that had been collecting on Bruce’s forehead and temples run down the side of this face and drip onto the black paint.
Clark moved his hands from where they were massaging Bruce’s balls to shift them to the man’s hips, pulling Bruce’s tights the rest of the way down and off. Bruce gasped as the overheated skin of his ass met the cool metal of the Batmobile’s hood.
Clark stood and looked down at Bruce, sprawled wantonly on the hood of his car. Bruce’s cowl-less face, his mouth gasping and panting, lips wet with saliva, begging to be kissed and bitten. His shirt was rucked up to his armpits obscuring his bat-symbol and revealing his small pert nipples, hardened from the cool, damp air of the cave. Bruce’s bare legs splayed out as his heels rested on the bumper of his sleek machine. Perfect white hips framing a mass of dark curls in which rested an erection flushed pink with blood, shining in the dim light of the cave from Clark’s saliva. Clark’s mouth went dry at the sight.
Bruce looked up at him with half lidded eyes and made a low sound in the back of his throat. Clark nearly lost it.
He would have Bruce and he would have him now.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Bruce woke up several hours later in his own bed with Clark sleeping on top of him.
Bruce looked into Clark’s nervous face. “What happened?”
“We-uh-We had sex…” Clark said sheepishly and Bruce rolled his eyes.
“Yes, but why? I’ve never seen you like that before; it was like you were drunk.”
“It was just that-“ Clark took a deep breath, “I couldn’t help it. You smell so good…”
“I smelled good?”
“Yeah, like some sort of perfume…”
Bruce tried not to worry about the implications of it all. He had started to wonder if maybe he had somehow picked up Ivy’s pheromones after the incident with Joker. When he had arrived home scrubbed off as well as he could before calling Clark over. Clearly he had not washed well enough.
A niggling little part of him was grateful. Passing interest in Clark, physically, was much different from having a night of intense sex with him.
It made him look at Clark in a whole new light.
Bruce sighed and decided to have out with it. For some reason it seemed easier to be more open and patient with a man who, at one point, had Bruce’s penis in his mouth. Go figure. “I suspect I somehow managed to acquire Ivy’s pheromones when we were in that vat. I think it effected you so strongly because of your Super Smell. We need to figure out how it changed me, chemically, and then fix it, chemically.”
Clark breathed in deeply and gave Bruce a slow grin as he rolled over on top of him again. “Do we have to?” He nuzzled Bruce’s and neck. “You smell so good.”
“Joker.” Bruce tried to keep his voice low and firm, but it was difficult with Clark nipping little kisses across his neck. Though when Clark growled and sucked a mark possessively on Bruce’s pale throat, Bruce was pretty sure Clark had conceded the point.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Three weeks of intense love making, narrowly avoiding sexual harassment and pillow talk with Clark later, Bruce gladly stepped into the vat of chemicals. Clark looked on with a hint of regret in his eyes, but Bruce knew he understood. The memory of Clark’s stern talk with Joker, and Harvey, and the Mad Hatter of all people, made Clark’s understanding clear.
Bruce had found Clark’s protectiveness… nice. He would miss it when it was gone.
Stepping out of the vat of chemicals Bruce reached for a towel. He was surprised to be embraced from behind by strong arms.
Bruce was indignant. “It didn’t work!?”
Clark pressed his face into the crook of Bruce’s neck and chuckled. “No it worked, you smell terrible, and I think those chemicals fried your hair.” Bruce grunted in annoyance. “But, you’re still beautiful, and you’re still mine…”
Bruce leaned back into Clark, ignoring the stench of chemicals-If Clark, with his Super Smell, could; then so could he-sighed happily.
Clark was... better again. More affectionate. More open than he had been in years.
So Bruce turned and wrapped his arms around Clark as well, and mentally chanted to them both.
“See, everything will be alright. Just watch, everything will be alright.”