Music of the Spheres Interlude: Pygmalion
Title: Pygmalion
Pairing: Clark/Bruce
Disclaimer: The boys belong to DC and to each other, but not to me.
Series Notes: Music of the Spheres is a series set in the combined movieverses of Batman Begins and Superman Returns The whole series can be found here. This story is set sometime early in Syncopation, but isn't really otherwise connected to it.
Rating: R
Summary: A cold December evening in the cave, and Bruce finds an unexpected surprise waiting for him.
Word Count: 860
Story Notes:
evangelene's scorching hot Superman stories (found here, here, here and here so far) made me wonder how it would be from the other temperature extreme. Just another fairly smutless PWP...
Cold, damp air hit Bruce Wayne in the face as he opened the trap door in the ruins of Wayne Manor to go down into the cave, and he shivered. This was his first winter in the cave, and he had started to get used to having to wear extra-heavy sweaters when he went down there to work. Unlimited steaming-hot coffee helped as well. He was sure the cold and damp were hell on the computers, and the space heaters he had going were less than satisfactory at keeping the place tolerable. It didn't help, of course, that there was a gaping hole open to the frigid December air, screened with a waterfall to add that extra touch of damp humidity.
The Christmas tree caught his eye again as he entered the cave, making him smile as usual. Clark had found a tiny artificial tree made of ebon-colored foil and hung strings of black lights on it. It looked festive, in an aggressively gloomy way.
Clark had a strange sense of humor about Bat-related things sometimes.
Bruce was about to sit down in the computer chair when he noticed something else unusual about the cave. He blinked at the waterfall, cascading in icy, glassy torrents in the moonlight, glinting silver ripples around the cave. There was something in the waterfall.
His eyes widened despite himself when he realized it was Kal, naked and white as snow, hovering in the waterfall like a star, his bright blue eyes regarding Bruce steadily. His black hair streamed about him in the pounding water, and his pale lips were slightly curved.
Bruce found that he was holding his breath, staring. He forgot sometimes how eerie and unearthly his lover could be. With a shaky inhalation he walked over to the waterfall.
Kal floated out from the cascade to meet him, ice-cold droplets raining around him. "I've been waiting for you," he said softly, lifting a hand to shake moonlit water from his hair. His skin was paler than Bruce had ever seen it, the blood entirely chased away from the surface by the frigid water. Bruce put out a hand to his shoulder. It was like touching stone.
"What the hell," he muttered, somewhat alarmed. "Let me get you a blanket." He grabbed a fluffy black blanket from the back of the chair and came back to Kal, still hovering in the gloom of the cave like some kind of alien Christmas ornament, all crystal and frost. Throwing the blanket around his lover's shoulders, he pulled Clark closer, put his mouth to Clark's lips. A human would have been wracked with shudders, but Clark was utterly still. It felt like kissing a statue at first, and Bruce felt a jolt of unease, opening his eyes to reassure himself that Clark's were still sentient and gazing at him hungrily. Under his lips, Clark's mouth slowly warmed, becoming soft and pliant again.
Starting at the neck, Bruce ran his hands over Kal's body, gleaming like a pearl in the moonlight. The blinking purple lights of the goth Christmas tree cast lilac and amethyst accents over the snowy whiteness. As he stroked Clark's colorless form, Bruce could see the blood rush to the skin's surface in his hands' wake, rosy trails of warmth and color appearing behind them. It was as if he were bringing a statue to life, turning alabaster into bright flesh. "What were you thinking?" Bruce said as he breathed on Clark's ice-cold hands, watching the nails flush from pale blue to pink.
"I was waiting, and the moonlight looked good. It felt good," Clark said, his eyes closed. "This feels better," he moaned as Bruce drew his hands along his ribcage, color flooding into his skin in response to Bruce's coaxing touch. Bruce leaned forward to put a warm tongue to a nipple almost lavender with cold, teasing and flickering until it warmed from marble to taut flesh. A tug on the blanket and Kal floated downward to be wrapped in Bruce's arms, shivering now indeed, but not with cold. They went to the ground together, the black blanket folded around them like night, Kal burning like a star now. His faerie prince, his elfin love.
Bruce's hands caressed arousal into Clark, his tongue enticed and warmed and tempted, until Clark was ardent with desire and sweet under his lips, until they were both aflame together in the unquenchable fire always between them.
When they were both finally warm and glowing, wrapped up in the blanket and radiating contentment, Clark kissed Bruce's ear a little sleepily. "I brought you an early Christmas present." A flicker of movement and Clark was back in his arms before Bruce fully noted the absence, this time holding a small package. Bruce unwrapped the bright paper and couldn't help but laugh.
Cozy, thick woolen socks.
Bruce looked a bit chagrined. "I don't have anything to give you," he said.
Clark smiled lazily, warm in his lover's arms. He closed his eyes against the moonlight and nuzzled Bruce's neck, drawing him closer. "Don't be so sure," he murmured.
Pairing: Clark/Bruce
Disclaimer: The boys belong to DC and to each other, but not to me.
Series Notes: Music of the Spheres is a series set in the combined movieverses of Batman Begins and Superman Returns The whole series can be found here. This story is set sometime early in Syncopation, but isn't really otherwise connected to it.
Rating: R
Summary: A cold December evening in the cave, and Bruce finds an unexpected surprise waiting for him.
Word Count: 860
Story Notes:
evangelene's scorching hot Superman stories (found here, here, here and here so far) made me wonder how it would be from the other temperature extreme. Just another fairly smutless PWP...
Cold, damp air hit Bruce Wayne in the face as he opened the trap door in the ruins of Wayne Manor to go down into the cave, and he shivered. This was his first winter in the cave, and he had started to get used to having to wear extra-heavy sweaters when he went down there to work. Unlimited steaming-hot coffee helped as well. He was sure the cold and damp were hell on the computers, and the space heaters he had going were less than satisfactory at keeping the place tolerable. It didn't help, of course, that there was a gaping hole open to the frigid December air, screened with a waterfall to add that extra touch of damp humidity.
The Christmas tree caught his eye again as he entered the cave, making him smile as usual. Clark had found a tiny artificial tree made of ebon-colored foil and hung strings of black lights on it. It looked festive, in an aggressively gloomy way.
Clark had a strange sense of humor about Bat-related things sometimes.
Bruce was about to sit down in the computer chair when he noticed something else unusual about the cave. He blinked at the waterfall, cascading in icy, glassy torrents in the moonlight, glinting silver ripples around the cave. There was something in the waterfall.
His eyes widened despite himself when he realized it was Kal, naked and white as snow, hovering in the waterfall like a star, his bright blue eyes regarding Bruce steadily. His black hair streamed about him in the pounding water, and his pale lips were slightly curved.
Bruce found that he was holding his breath, staring. He forgot sometimes how eerie and unearthly his lover could be. With a shaky inhalation he walked over to the waterfall.
Kal floated out from the cascade to meet him, ice-cold droplets raining around him. "I've been waiting for you," he said softly, lifting a hand to shake moonlit water from his hair. His skin was paler than Bruce had ever seen it, the blood entirely chased away from the surface by the frigid water. Bruce put out a hand to his shoulder. It was like touching stone.
"What the hell," he muttered, somewhat alarmed. "Let me get you a blanket." He grabbed a fluffy black blanket from the back of the chair and came back to Kal, still hovering in the gloom of the cave like some kind of alien Christmas ornament, all crystal and frost. Throwing the blanket around his lover's shoulders, he pulled Clark closer, put his mouth to Clark's lips. A human would have been wracked with shudders, but Clark was utterly still. It felt like kissing a statue at first, and Bruce felt a jolt of unease, opening his eyes to reassure himself that Clark's were still sentient and gazing at him hungrily. Under his lips, Clark's mouth slowly warmed, becoming soft and pliant again.
Starting at the neck, Bruce ran his hands over Kal's body, gleaming like a pearl in the moonlight. The blinking purple lights of the goth Christmas tree cast lilac and amethyst accents over the snowy whiteness. As he stroked Clark's colorless form, Bruce could see the blood rush to the skin's surface in his hands' wake, rosy trails of warmth and color appearing behind them. It was as if he were bringing a statue to life, turning alabaster into bright flesh. "What were you thinking?" Bruce said as he breathed on Clark's ice-cold hands, watching the nails flush from pale blue to pink.
"I was waiting, and the moonlight looked good. It felt good," Clark said, his eyes closed. "This feels better," he moaned as Bruce drew his hands along his ribcage, color flooding into his skin in response to Bruce's coaxing touch. Bruce leaned forward to put a warm tongue to a nipple almost lavender with cold, teasing and flickering until it warmed from marble to taut flesh. A tug on the blanket and Kal floated downward to be wrapped in Bruce's arms, shivering now indeed, but not with cold. They went to the ground together, the black blanket folded around them like night, Kal burning like a star now. His faerie prince, his elfin love.
Bruce's hands caressed arousal into Clark, his tongue enticed and warmed and tempted, until Clark was ardent with desire and sweet under his lips, until they were both aflame together in the unquenchable fire always between them.
When they were both finally warm and glowing, wrapped up in the blanket and radiating contentment, Clark kissed Bruce's ear a little sleepily. "I brought you an early Christmas present." A flicker of movement and Clark was back in his arms before Bruce fully noted the absence, this time holding a small package. Bruce unwrapped the bright paper and couldn't help but laugh.
Cozy, thick woolen socks.
Bruce looked a bit chagrined. "I don't have anything to give you," he said.
Clark smiled lazily, warm in his lover's arms. He closed his eyes against the moonlight and nuzzled Bruce's neck, drawing him closer. "Don't be so sure," he murmured.