Interlude 4/5: Sound Affects
Title: Interlude 4/5: Sound Affects
Pairing: Clark/Bruce
Disclaimer: The boys belong to DC and to each other, but not to me.
Notes: Interludes 1-5 are set right after "Music of the Spheres," and are loosely connected short stories showing different relationships between Clark and Bruce and other characters. Other stories and notes on the series here.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Meetings are boring. Communicators are fun. PWP: As the inimitable Tom Lehrer says, "smut--and nothing but." I feel deeply uncomfortable writing smut and wanted to work on it a bit with a silly ficlet. Inspired a great deal by
sasha_anu's "S/B watch Brokeback Mountain" drabble and thinking about the effects of sound. *hides in a corner, blushing with intense embarrassment*
Word Count: 1051
Bruce Wayne woke up to the sound of Clark Kent giving a very boring status report in a very boring meeting. He listened to the Man of Steel drone nervously on for about five minutes, then sit down. Bruce tapped the receiver in his ear to pick up the environmental noise. Perry White was giving what sounded like a breakdown of circulation figures and business strategies. It sounded really dull.
Bruce stretched and winced as his torn calf protested. He'd been out of commission for two days now and was dying of boredom. Listening to the meeting at the Daily Planet go on with no relief, he felt deep sympathy for Clark, and then a spark of mischief. He'd been thinking about this for a while...
"Clark? You listening in?"
The one tap that meant "Yes."
"Sounds like a boring meeting."
Another tap and the faintest of sighs.
"Me, I'm just stuck in bed. Without you." He dropped his voice just a bit, to a velvety purr. "And I know I'd much rather be with you."
A slightly alarmed intake of breath. Hah. Boy Scout or not, Clark had spent time thinking about the possibilities as well. He was just too shy to take full advantage of them.
Bruce Wayne was many things. "Shy" was not one of them.
He shifted in bed so the sound of rustling sheets would reach Clark's ear at the Daily Planet. "It's been--what? Four days? You must be almost as horny as I am. And Clark, I am damn horny. Hell, listening to you give that boring report turned me on. I just kept remembering how you sounded the last time, panting and moaning and begging me for more. God, Clark, fucking you is like nothing else in the world. You're so hot and tight and greedy. If the other men in that room knew what an incredible lay you were, you'd be in a world of trouble."
He certainly didn't need to feign how uneven his breath was getting. In his ear, Clark's breath was short and fast. Perry was analyzing a pie chart. "And then there's getting fucked by you. That magnificent Kryptonian cock that reaches all the right spots and makes me want to scream, it's so good. The way you take me and fuck me and make me yours again every single time, and I want it more and more every time you make me come, Clark. I want you in every way possible, I want your hands on me and your mouth on me, I want you, I want you." His voice died down into a moan that was actually rather less controlled than he had meant it to be. Bastard made him lose control just by breathing in his ear.
Clark was clearly having increasing difficulty controlling his breathing. Time to close the deal. Bruce dropped his voice down to Batman's register, put in all the grit and menace he could.
"How much do you want it?"
There was a startled grunt that must have been audible to the other people at the meeting. Clark sounded like he'd been hit with a taser. Bruce briefly grinned smugly to himself and pressed the advantage, growling through the link.
"I bet you're so hot by now that you're in danger of coming right there, just from hearing my voice and the friction of your clothes on your cock. You're just that turned on, aren't you?" It was surprisingly difficult to keep the voice in the right register when he was so aroused himself. He suspected that the occasional breaks into a normal tone only heightened the effect for Clark, though. "I suggest you do something about that."
The sound of a chair being pushed back. Perry broke off his speech with a concerned, "Kent? You don't look so--"
Clark's voice, high and uncomfortable. "Sorry, Perry, little stomach flu. 'Scuse me, sorry."
"Don't even think of showing up here, Clark, I'm in no shape to give you a workout and you need to get back to that meeting." Bruce didn't even try to keep the laughter out of his voice on that line. Clark muttered something very rude. Footsteps clicking down an empty hall.
"Where are you going, Superman?" He kept it very low and dangerous, and the change in address produced a stifled groan on the other end.
"Upstairs bathroom...no one ever goes there..." In Bruce's ear, the sound of a door opening, the acoustics shifting, the door closing.
Belt buckle. Zipper. The slithering sound of cloth. A sharp intake of breath. The soft, caressing whisper of skin being stroked.
"Clark..." His voice cracked wildly upward for a moment. He forced it low again. "Not until I say so. You don't finish until I say so, Kal."
A hoarse gasp of assent that became a rumbling moan, low and throaty. "Bruce," Clark whispered huskily. "God, yes...yes. Tell me. Tell me when. Oh, please."
Bruce found, somewhat to his surprise, that he was tangled in the bedding, hips thrusting hard against silky sheets. He also seemed to be quite speechless, which was unfortunate because he was sure Kal would somehow manage to wait forever unless he managed to give him permission. He caught his breath and grasped for language before it was too late and he--"Nnn." Tried again. "Clark--Now."
A shuddering, almost shocked breath on the other end. A jumble of bitten-off sounds that might have included "love" and "fuck," eventually stammering to a halt in ragged gasps.
Bruce's own breath rattled hoarsely in his ears, in synch with Clark's, slowing gradually with his racing heart.
Clark was the first to break the silence. "That was...very unsporting."
Bruce laughed rather weakly and lolled back on the pillows.
"Keep that up, playboy, and you'll find yourself the recipient of a superspeed blowjob in the middle of some boring reception."
"I'd like to see you try."
"You think I wouldn't have the guts?"
Bruce sniggered. "No, Clark. I mean I actually, really would like to see you try."
"Oh." A slightly smug silence. "I'll make a note of it."
"You do that."
Pairing: Clark/Bruce
Disclaimer: The boys belong to DC and to each other, but not to me.
Notes: Interludes 1-5 are set right after "Music of the Spheres," and are loosely connected short stories showing different relationships between Clark and Bruce and other characters. Other stories and notes on the series here.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Meetings are boring. Communicators are fun. PWP: As the inimitable Tom Lehrer says, "smut--and nothing but." I feel deeply uncomfortable writing smut and wanted to work on it a bit with a silly ficlet. Inspired a great deal by
sasha_anu's "S/B watch Brokeback Mountain" drabble and thinking about the effects of sound. *hides in a corner, blushing with intense embarrassment*
Word Count: 1051
Bruce Wayne woke up to the sound of Clark Kent giving a very boring status report in a very boring meeting. He listened to the Man of Steel drone nervously on for about five minutes, then sit down. Bruce tapped the receiver in his ear to pick up the environmental noise. Perry White was giving what sounded like a breakdown of circulation figures and business strategies. It sounded really dull.
Bruce stretched and winced as his torn calf protested. He'd been out of commission for two days now and was dying of boredom. Listening to the meeting at the Daily Planet go on with no relief, he felt deep sympathy for Clark, and then a spark of mischief. He'd been thinking about this for a while...
"Clark? You listening in?"
The one tap that meant "Yes."
"Sounds like a boring meeting."
Another tap and the faintest of sighs.
"Me, I'm just stuck in bed. Without you." He dropped his voice just a bit, to a velvety purr. "And I know I'd much rather be with you."
A slightly alarmed intake of breath. Hah. Boy Scout or not, Clark had spent time thinking about the possibilities as well. He was just too shy to take full advantage of them.
Bruce Wayne was many things. "Shy" was not one of them.
He shifted in bed so the sound of rustling sheets would reach Clark's ear at the Daily Planet. "It's been--what? Four days? You must be almost as horny as I am. And Clark, I am damn horny. Hell, listening to you give that boring report turned me on. I just kept remembering how you sounded the last time, panting and moaning and begging me for more. God, Clark, fucking you is like nothing else in the world. You're so hot and tight and greedy. If the other men in that room knew what an incredible lay you were, you'd be in a world of trouble."
He certainly didn't need to feign how uneven his breath was getting. In his ear, Clark's breath was short and fast. Perry was analyzing a pie chart. "And then there's getting fucked by you. That magnificent Kryptonian cock that reaches all the right spots and makes me want to scream, it's so good. The way you take me and fuck me and make me yours again every single time, and I want it more and more every time you make me come, Clark. I want you in every way possible, I want your hands on me and your mouth on me, I want you, I want you." His voice died down into a moan that was actually rather less controlled than he had meant it to be. Bastard made him lose control just by breathing in his ear.
Clark was clearly having increasing difficulty controlling his breathing. Time to close the deal. Bruce dropped his voice down to Batman's register, put in all the grit and menace he could.
"How much do you want it?"
There was a startled grunt that must have been audible to the other people at the meeting. Clark sounded like he'd been hit with a taser. Bruce briefly grinned smugly to himself and pressed the advantage, growling through the link.
"I bet you're so hot by now that you're in danger of coming right there, just from hearing my voice and the friction of your clothes on your cock. You're just that turned on, aren't you?" It was surprisingly difficult to keep the voice in the right register when he was so aroused himself. He suspected that the occasional breaks into a normal tone only heightened the effect for Clark, though. "I suggest you do something about that."
The sound of a chair being pushed back. Perry broke off his speech with a concerned, "Kent? You don't look so--"
Clark's voice, high and uncomfortable. "Sorry, Perry, little stomach flu. 'Scuse me, sorry."
"Don't even think of showing up here, Clark, I'm in no shape to give you a workout and you need to get back to that meeting." Bruce didn't even try to keep the laughter out of his voice on that line. Clark muttered something very rude. Footsteps clicking down an empty hall.
"Where are you going, Superman?" He kept it very low and dangerous, and the change in address produced a stifled groan on the other end.
"Upstairs bathroom...no one ever goes there..." In Bruce's ear, the sound of a door opening, the acoustics shifting, the door closing.
Belt buckle. Zipper. The slithering sound of cloth. A sharp intake of breath. The soft, caressing whisper of skin being stroked.
"Clark..." His voice cracked wildly upward for a moment. He forced it low again. "Not until I say so. You don't finish until I say so, Kal."
A hoarse gasp of assent that became a rumbling moan, low and throaty. "Bruce," Clark whispered huskily. "God, yes...yes. Tell me. Tell me when. Oh, please."
Bruce found, somewhat to his surprise, that he was tangled in the bedding, hips thrusting hard against silky sheets. He also seemed to be quite speechless, which was unfortunate because he was sure Kal would somehow manage to wait forever unless he managed to give him permission. He caught his breath and grasped for language before it was too late and he--"Nnn." Tried again. "Clark--Now."
A shuddering, almost shocked breath on the other end. A jumble of bitten-off sounds that might have included "love" and "fuck," eventually stammering to a halt in ragged gasps.
Bruce's own breath rattled hoarsely in his ears, in synch with Clark's, slowing gradually with his racing heart.
Clark was the first to break the silence. "That was...very unsporting."
Bruce laughed rather weakly and lolled back on the pillows.
"Keep that up, playboy, and you'll find yourself the recipient of a superspeed blowjob in the middle of some boring reception."
"I'd like to see you try."
"You think I wouldn't have the guts?"
Bruce sniggered. "No, Clark. I mean I actually, really would like to see you try."
"Oh." A slightly smug silence. "I'll make a note of it."
"You do that."