Fic: Influence | DCU | Clark/Bruce & Michael/Ted | NC-17 | 1/1
Title: Influence
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent, Michael Carter/Ted Kord
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,809
Prompt: For Porn Battle XII: Michael Carter/Ted Kord, homecoming, comfort, shower, costume, gloves, goggles, bruises & Clark/Bruce, partnership, battle, shower, wounded, overheard, public
Summary: Booster helps Ted get cleaned up after he's hurt during a battle. Clark decides to help Bruce get cleaned up, too. Somehow, along the way, it turns into a competition.
Disclaimer: DC and WB don't deserve to own a shred of this, but they do, the schmucks.
Author's Notes: At long, long last, it's the World's Finest/Boostle fic that's been languishing on my drive for YEARS! It's done, finally, and it's my pleasure to unleash it upon you all. >:D Excerpt posted here on the PB.
Influence
Trudging back to the Watchtower locker rooms, Ted leaned into Booster's side for support, his arm slung around his partner's waist. It wasn't that bad of an injury, just a twisted knee-no thanks to that insufferable jerk, Lobo-but Booster had insisted on helping him come back to get cleaned up, with a firm insistence that they'd be hitting the infirmary next.
Finally in the locker area, Booster helped ease him down onto the bench-not that he needed the help, Ted reminded himself-and plopped down unceremoniously beside him, pulling his half-cowl and goggles off and running a hand through his blond hair. “That was the nastiest fight I think I've seen since that hell with Black Adam,” he said, shaking his head.
Removing his own goggles and cowl, Ted stared at him wordlessly, completely exhausted from the fight and unable to find the words to comment on it yet. A weak nod was all he could really muster, and he realized way back in one corner of his mind that maybe he'd needed the help getting back here after all.
“Here,” Booster offered, supporting his weight and reaching for the clasp and zipper at the back of Ted's suit when he started listing a little to the left.
Ted leaned into him, letting his lover undress him and feeling too tired to protest. And so what if the other Leaguers saw? It wasn't like they hadn't before. Swiftly, he pushed the insecure thoughts away, because dammit, it wasn't like half the League wasn't having sex with each other anyway; what right did they have to judge?
A moment later, after some shifting and shimmying, Ted was divested of his blue uniform, still too exhausted to even make an attempt to get to the shower. Propping himself up with his palms on the edge of the bench, he waited while Booster stripped as well. He couldn't help just staring as blue and gold fabric gave way to tanned skin and tight muscle.
Then he saw the bruises.
Bruises that that ass, Lobo, had left on his beautiful Booster.
Reaching out, he brushed a hand over a particularly large purpled knot near the small of his lover's back. “Booster,” he breathed, still staring in wide-eyed disbelief.
Booster winced slightly at the touch, and twisted to see what Ted was gaping at. “Oh,” he said, a sarcastic smirk growing over his face. “Yeah. Guess Lobo packed a harder punch than I anticipated. Suit wasn't ready for it.”
“Well... we're gonna have to fix that. Upgrade, maybe.”
When that smirk morphed into a grin, Ted knew his eyes must be shining with that light that Booster sometimes called his 'techie gleam'. And hell if he wasn't glad he at least had that much presence of mind left.
“Maybe,” Booster agreed, his grin softening. “But for now, let's get this Czarnian slime off.”
“No argument here,” Ted said as Booster gripped him by the arm, one arm slung around his shoulders to help him stand.
Once again letting his partner take the weight off of his twisted knee, Ted let Booster guide him back to the shower, not even noticing when Bruce came limping in behind them heavily, casting off his cowl and cape as he reached his locker, Clark immediately behind him wearing his own worried look.
~*~*~
It wasn't that Bruce was incapable of handling himself, far from it, actually. It was that Clark hadn't been able to get to Lobo before he'd torn a swath through most of the League. Bruce had just been unfortunate enough to be in the way when that psychopath had come rumbling through, all testosterone and rage.
Clark ran a hand through his hair as he followed Bruce back to the locker rooms. Half the League had almost been wiped out because he hadn't gotten there in time. Black Canary, Hawkgirl, Booster, Beetle... even Diana had taken a hard hit during Lobo's rampage. All because-dammit-he was too slow, had been busy in Metropolis, wasn't here when he was needed. He must've been hovering too closely behind Bruce as he limped back toward his locker, because he was suddenly on the receiving end of a hard-as-nails glare when Bruce stripped off his cowl.
Gulping and clenching his jaw guiltily, he fell back, unable to escape the look that made it clear that Bruce didn't want his help, his pity, his... anything at the moment.
Trying to fight down the urge to say he was sorry, again, Clark caught sight of Booster leading Ted back to the showers, the recently returned Blue Beetle limping and leaning heavily against his friend. If only Bruce would let him take the kind of care with him that Booster did with Ted. Heck, Ted's injury wasn't even that bad-thank goodness-but Bruce's.... Far be it for the goddamn Batman to admit that he'd had his ass handed to him in a fight.
What the heck had Lobo been on, anyway?
Shaking his head to clear out his jumbled mess of guilt as he found his own locker and stripped off his primary colors, Clark thought again of Booster and Ted, the epitome of friendship, brotherhood... and loving devotion. They were probably the most well-adjusted members of the League, never hiding their affection for one another, bolstering each other up when necessary, especially since Booster had gone on his one-man mission and brought Ted back whole and alive. And there was no ego-Booster's shameless self-promotion didn't count-to get in the way. No 'image' to protect. No fear of whispers or gossip.
They were good together.
So why wouldn't Bruce let him and Clark be that way, too?
Ready to hit the shower, Clark took another look at his partner, Bruce still stripping out of his own tights, and sighed. He steeled his resolve at the sight, not willing to let another moment go by without at least trying.
“Bruce,” he said as he approached him cautiously. “Let me help you. Please.”
Tension overtook Bruce's whole body with the suggestion, and he stopped struggling with the damn tights, his eyes coming up to meet Clark's with their intense ice blue, flashing all kinds of warning.
“Fine,” he snapped weakly.
Clark's heart lifted, and with a few swift moves, he finished removing the dark tights to deposit them in the locker with the rest of Bruce's armor and utility belt. “There,” he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. “How about I get you cleaned up? You're not really in any shape to―”
Another glare from the Bat. “Clark,” he grumbled in protest.
“A tendon in your right knee is torn, Bruce,” Clark countered firmly.
“I told you not to x-ray me, dammit!”
“Tough. You've also got a hairline fracture in your collarbone, and I can already see the swelling. Now would you just please....” he finished, begging for his lover to let him help. He would've felt worse for it if he hadn't had to beg to help him before, but this was just getting old.
Shakily, Bruce pushed himself up, putting all of his weight on his left leg and eying Clark warily. But when a strong arm slipped around his waist, he growled a few more curses, reluctantly accepting the crutch offered as Clark led him back to the shower.
~*~*~
Ted was more than happy to lean back against the wall of the large shower stall as he sat on the tiled bench, letting Booster scrub him down with a loofah. A little moan escaped him as his lover tended to his knee, scrubbing gently with one hand, massaging the swollen muscles in his thigh and calf with the other. “Jesus, that's good,” he breathed as Booster's skilled hands knew just what spots hurt the worst and took care of them in turn.
“I guess so!” Booster smirked teasingly at the look of bliss that Ted knew he wasn't even hiding, his head thrown back and his mouth hanging open. Still working the side of Ted's knee, he slid his hand with the loofah up the inside of Ted's thigh, his thumb stroking the more sensitive skin as he moved closer....
Tingles danced through Ted straight to his groin at the gentle caress, and he gasped, shifting into the touch involuntarily.
Another stroke on soft skin and Ted shivered with anticipation.
“Th-this is supposed to be a shower! Not a―”
His protest was cut off by the sound of grumbled curses and an utterly feral snarl that brought their attention up momentarily.
A warm voice countered the snarl, “Stop complaining. It won't do you any good.”
More irritated grumbling followed.
Ted's eyes widened as the voices passed them by, apparently headed into an adjacent stall, and the sound of the shower turning on immediately followed.
“Oh-ho!” Booster whispered, grinning wickedly as the realization hit them both that the World's Finest was teaming up for a shower themselves.
Ted rolled his eyes at his partner's mischievous look, but the motion was stopped as that skilled hand slid back up his thigh all the way to that sensitive spot right next to.... Ohmigod!
Sucking in a breath at the unexpected continuation of whatever it was that Booster had planned, Ted glared down at him, that blond hair plastered across his forehead, dripping wet as the shower spray doused them both.
Blue eyes stared back up at him, until their gaze fell to Ted's lap.
Ted shivered again at the hungry look in Booster's eyes, unable to will away his ever hardening erection. “Oh, no you don't,” he said in a weak whisper. “Not with... with Clark in the next stall! He'll hear us!”
“Oh, I think he can already hear us,” Booster grinned again, suddenly moving up to plant a firm kiss on Ted's lips.
~*~*~
Already working on cleaning the blood and grime from a few lacerations on Bruce's arms as he sat beside him on the bench, Clark couldn't suppress a smirk as Booster's words came straight to his ears. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, not by any means, but the sounds of the two men in the adjacent shower were just too insistent to ignore.
“Oh God, Booster, stop!” Ted hissed, and Clark had to stifle a chuckle as the unmistakable sound of a mouth working a cock reached him, slurping and sucking and loud.
“What are you laughing at?” Bruce grumbled at him, lathering his chest up with stiff movements.
Clark just shook his head. “Nothing. Just. Our 'neighbors' being fairly indiscreet,” he answered, not daring to say anything more than that. Oh, it was such a mistake to listen in.
Bruce grunted in reply, trying in vain to reach his own back with the loofah, and Clark couldn't help rolling his eyes. “Will you just let me finish, already? You're in no shape to even do this.” And God, his bruises looked even worse under the lights in the shower room.
Again, Bruce grunted, but with an air of defeat this time, handing over the loofah. “Fine. But make it quick.”
“Oh, I have no intention of that. Now turn a little so I can to reach.”
A glare, and Bruce complied, shifting stiffly to present his back. Clark started working in slow circles, massaging out the kinks that he could see plain as day in Bruce's muscles. He was rewarded immediately with tiny little grunts and sounds that could've been moans, and leaning over Bruce's shoulder, he dropped a kiss there, nuzzling into his lover's neck.
“That isn't exactly standard post-mission care, you know,” Bruce complained, not quite protesting enough to be taken seriously as he turned his head to catch Clark's gaze.
But Clark wouldn't be deterred, reaching around to work the soap into Bruce's front, massaging the muscles there as well. “What's your point? I'm taking care of you, that's all there is to it.” Dropping his hand slowly, he started lathering Bruce's abs, working further south with each massaging circle. And oh. Oh. “I suppose I should be taking care of that, too?”
Bruce only grunted again, leaning back enough to press a kiss to Clark's lips and arch into his touch, and when a full-fledged groan tore from his throat, Clark grinned into their kiss. Maybe there was hope for them, yet.
~*~*~
Panting as Booster worked him, a hand joining the action where that mouth was giving its full attention to his cock, Ted gasped and croaked out, “F-fuck. You have-any idea-how much trouble-we're gonna-”
But the sound of a deep groan from the adjacent stall cut off the rest of his complaining, and Booster's eyes darted up to meet his, a look of shocked surprise passing between them. Until that bright blue gaze turned so wicked that Ted just knew he was in for it, that mouth sucking him even harder as Booster's hand disappeared, and-
“Fuck!” Ted startled, the shout escaping him despite his best efforts when a finger pressed into him, wriggling and probing just right. “Shit,” he whispered. “God, Booster.”
A loud pop as his lover disengaged from his dick, and a wide grin moved over that face. “Dare you to do better, Big Blue,” Booster said conversationally, eyes glittering with mischief.
“I cannot believe you just did that,” Ted protested, but that finger pressed deeper and those lips slid back over his cock, and all he could manage from there was a desperate whimper.
~*~*~
On the other side of the partition, Clark laughed again, losing the loofah completely to devote his full attention to Bruce's unmistakable erection. At the very least, a good orgasm would help lessen the pain of his partner's injuries. Would do for Ted, too, so what harm was there in accepting Booster's challenge?
“I know you can hear them now, too,” he whispered in Bruce's ear. “Not like they're bothering with subtlety.”
Bruce groaned as he arched further into Clark's hand, clenching his teeth against a louder shout that Clark just knew was in there waiting to be set loose.
“You can let go, Bruce,” he urged him. “I'm here.”
“Can't,” Bruce panted, turning up to kiss him again, biting a lip hard. “Need. Control.”
Clark chuckled against his cheek. “Come on, what's the worse that can happen? The League finally has some proof that you're human and not a robot? Let it out. I'll take care of you.”
When another shout came across the shower partition, Ted cursing at Booster and very clearly about to blow, Bruce finally relented, his shout finally escaping. “Aaahh! Clark!” His body tensed in Clark's embrace, starting to shake as he panted, and Clark worked him even faster, thumb rolling over the end of his cock to hit the most sensitive places.
“Fffff-aaahhh!!” Bruce screamed, his throat going raw with it as he came, pumping over Clark's fist.
“That's it. Just let go,” Clark soothed him, dropping another kiss on his shoulder as he stroked him through the aftershocks.
Trying to get his breath back, Bruce caught his gaze again, trying and failing to look stern and disapproving with the bliss so clearly written across his features. “That better not come back to haunt me.”
~*~*~
Hearing Bruce's shout, Ted shivered again, Booster working him even harder, pressing that finger deep. So deep that-
His vision whited out as Booster hit his prostate, stroking over it deliberately slow, and his breath caught in his chest, the world shrinking down to a white hot point of pleasure, sparks of perfect bliss exploding outward through every nerve, every cell of his body. He was only barely aware of someone screaming again, and realized after a long moment, his body quivering, that it was him.
Finding Booster's eyes, he panted in utter shock, shuddering again as his lover gave his cock a last lick and finally left it, having swallowed Ted's release.
“You. I. Fuck, Booster,” was all he could get out as Booster stood and got back to work washing them both down, everything slowly coming back into focus.
With a start then, he realized just what had happened, and sat up straight, glaring at Booster. “Did-did we just have a come-off with Clark and Bruce?”
A nod, and Booster grinned, washing his own hair. “Oh yeah. Think we won, too.”
“Oh, God, I'm never gonna be able to look Bruce in the eye again.”
~*~*~
A little while later in the infirmary, Bruce sitting on the bed opposite Ted's as the medical staff tended to their injuries properly, the two men doing their best to ignore each other's presence, Clark and Booster just grinned at each other slyly from their respective partners' bedsides.
“Think we're gonna need a rematch,” Clark ventured after a few long minutes of silence, the staff working quietly around them.
Booster's grin practically doubled. “Same time next week?”
“But without all the fanfare of a mission, of course.”
“Absolutely.”
On the beds, Ted and Bruce finally glanced at each other, Ted's cheeks going pink as Bruce frowned. “They're a bad influence on each other,” Bruce said.
A nod, and Ted added, “But a good influence on us, I think.” A glance up at Booster, and he smiled faintly, their fingers twining together as Booster took his hand. “Even if we might not remember it all the time.”
And that, they could all agree on.
~*~*~*~
This entry was originally posted at http://saavikam77.dreamwidth.org/169734.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent, Michael Carter/Ted Kord
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,809
Prompt: For Porn Battle XII: Michael Carter/Ted Kord, homecoming, comfort, shower, costume, gloves, goggles, bruises & Clark/Bruce, partnership, battle, shower, wounded, overheard, public
Summary: Booster helps Ted get cleaned up after he's hurt during a battle. Clark decides to help Bruce get cleaned up, too. Somehow, along the way, it turns into a competition.
Disclaimer: DC and WB don't deserve to own a shred of this, but they do, the schmucks.
Author's Notes: At long, long last, it's the World's Finest/Boostle fic that's been languishing on my drive for YEARS! It's done, finally, and it's my pleasure to unleash it upon you all. >:D Excerpt posted here on the PB.
Influence
Trudging back to the Watchtower locker rooms, Ted leaned into Booster's side for support, his arm slung around his partner's waist. It wasn't that bad of an injury, just a twisted knee-no thanks to that insufferable jerk, Lobo-but Booster had insisted on helping him come back to get cleaned up, with a firm insistence that they'd be hitting the infirmary next.
Finally in the locker area, Booster helped ease him down onto the bench-not that he needed the help, Ted reminded himself-and plopped down unceremoniously beside him, pulling his half-cowl and goggles off and running a hand through his blond hair. “That was the nastiest fight I think I've seen since that hell with Black Adam,” he said, shaking his head.
Removing his own goggles and cowl, Ted stared at him wordlessly, completely exhausted from the fight and unable to find the words to comment on it yet. A weak nod was all he could really muster, and he realized way back in one corner of his mind that maybe he'd needed the help getting back here after all.
“Here,” Booster offered, supporting his weight and reaching for the clasp and zipper at the back of Ted's suit when he started listing a little to the left.
Ted leaned into him, letting his lover undress him and feeling too tired to protest. And so what if the other Leaguers saw? It wasn't like they hadn't before. Swiftly, he pushed the insecure thoughts away, because dammit, it wasn't like half the League wasn't having sex with each other anyway; what right did they have to judge?
A moment later, after some shifting and shimmying, Ted was divested of his blue uniform, still too exhausted to even make an attempt to get to the shower. Propping himself up with his palms on the edge of the bench, he waited while Booster stripped as well. He couldn't help just staring as blue and gold fabric gave way to tanned skin and tight muscle.
Then he saw the bruises.
Bruises that that ass, Lobo, had left on his beautiful Booster.
Reaching out, he brushed a hand over a particularly large purpled knot near the small of his lover's back. “Booster,” he breathed, still staring in wide-eyed disbelief.
Booster winced slightly at the touch, and twisted to see what Ted was gaping at. “Oh,” he said, a sarcastic smirk growing over his face. “Yeah. Guess Lobo packed a harder punch than I anticipated. Suit wasn't ready for it.”
“Well... we're gonna have to fix that. Upgrade, maybe.”
When that smirk morphed into a grin, Ted knew his eyes must be shining with that light that Booster sometimes called his 'techie gleam'. And hell if he wasn't glad he at least had that much presence of mind left.
“Maybe,” Booster agreed, his grin softening. “But for now, let's get this Czarnian slime off.”
“No argument here,” Ted said as Booster gripped him by the arm, one arm slung around his shoulders to help him stand.
Once again letting his partner take the weight off of his twisted knee, Ted let Booster guide him back to the shower, not even noticing when Bruce came limping in behind them heavily, casting off his cowl and cape as he reached his locker, Clark immediately behind him wearing his own worried look.
~*~*~
It wasn't that Bruce was incapable of handling himself, far from it, actually. It was that Clark hadn't been able to get to Lobo before he'd torn a swath through most of the League. Bruce had just been unfortunate enough to be in the way when that psychopath had come rumbling through, all testosterone and rage.
Clark ran a hand through his hair as he followed Bruce back to the locker rooms. Half the League had almost been wiped out because he hadn't gotten there in time. Black Canary, Hawkgirl, Booster, Beetle... even Diana had taken a hard hit during Lobo's rampage. All because-dammit-he was too slow, had been busy in Metropolis, wasn't here when he was needed. He must've been hovering too closely behind Bruce as he limped back toward his locker, because he was suddenly on the receiving end of a hard-as-nails glare when Bruce stripped off his cowl.
Gulping and clenching his jaw guiltily, he fell back, unable to escape the look that made it clear that Bruce didn't want his help, his pity, his... anything at the moment.
Trying to fight down the urge to say he was sorry, again, Clark caught sight of Booster leading Ted back to the showers, the recently returned Blue Beetle limping and leaning heavily against his friend. If only Bruce would let him take the kind of care with him that Booster did with Ted. Heck, Ted's injury wasn't even that bad-thank goodness-but Bruce's.... Far be it for the goddamn Batman to admit that he'd had his ass handed to him in a fight.
What the heck had Lobo been on, anyway?
Shaking his head to clear out his jumbled mess of guilt as he found his own locker and stripped off his primary colors, Clark thought again of Booster and Ted, the epitome of friendship, brotherhood... and loving devotion. They were probably the most well-adjusted members of the League, never hiding their affection for one another, bolstering each other up when necessary, especially since Booster had gone on his one-man mission and brought Ted back whole and alive. And there was no ego-Booster's shameless self-promotion didn't count-to get in the way. No 'image' to protect. No fear of whispers or gossip.
They were good together.
So why wouldn't Bruce let him and Clark be that way, too?
Ready to hit the shower, Clark took another look at his partner, Bruce still stripping out of his own tights, and sighed. He steeled his resolve at the sight, not willing to let another moment go by without at least trying.
“Bruce,” he said as he approached him cautiously. “Let me help you. Please.”
Tension overtook Bruce's whole body with the suggestion, and he stopped struggling with the damn tights, his eyes coming up to meet Clark's with their intense ice blue, flashing all kinds of warning.
“Fine,” he snapped weakly.
Clark's heart lifted, and with a few swift moves, he finished removing the dark tights to deposit them in the locker with the rest of Bruce's armor and utility belt. “There,” he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. “How about I get you cleaned up? You're not really in any shape to―”
Another glare from the Bat. “Clark,” he grumbled in protest.
“A tendon in your right knee is torn, Bruce,” Clark countered firmly.
“I told you not to x-ray me, dammit!”
“Tough. You've also got a hairline fracture in your collarbone, and I can already see the swelling. Now would you just please....” he finished, begging for his lover to let him help. He would've felt worse for it if he hadn't had to beg to help him before, but this was just getting old.
Shakily, Bruce pushed himself up, putting all of his weight on his left leg and eying Clark warily. But when a strong arm slipped around his waist, he growled a few more curses, reluctantly accepting the crutch offered as Clark led him back to the shower.
~*~*~
Ted was more than happy to lean back against the wall of the large shower stall as he sat on the tiled bench, letting Booster scrub him down with a loofah. A little moan escaped him as his lover tended to his knee, scrubbing gently with one hand, massaging the swollen muscles in his thigh and calf with the other. “Jesus, that's good,” he breathed as Booster's skilled hands knew just what spots hurt the worst and took care of them in turn.
“I guess so!” Booster smirked teasingly at the look of bliss that Ted knew he wasn't even hiding, his head thrown back and his mouth hanging open. Still working the side of Ted's knee, he slid his hand with the loofah up the inside of Ted's thigh, his thumb stroking the more sensitive skin as he moved closer....
Tingles danced through Ted straight to his groin at the gentle caress, and he gasped, shifting into the touch involuntarily.
Another stroke on soft skin and Ted shivered with anticipation.
“Th-this is supposed to be a shower! Not a―”
His protest was cut off by the sound of grumbled curses and an utterly feral snarl that brought their attention up momentarily.
A warm voice countered the snarl, “Stop complaining. It won't do you any good.”
More irritated grumbling followed.
Ted's eyes widened as the voices passed them by, apparently headed into an adjacent stall, and the sound of the shower turning on immediately followed.
“Oh-ho!” Booster whispered, grinning wickedly as the realization hit them both that the World's Finest was teaming up for a shower themselves.
Ted rolled his eyes at his partner's mischievous look, but the motion was stopped as that skilled hand slid back up his thigh all the way to that sensitive spot right next to.... Ohmigod!
Sucking in a breath at the unexpected continuation of whatever it was that Booster had planned, Ted glared down at him, that blond hair plastered across his forehead, dripping wet as the shower spray doused them both.
Blue eyes stared back up at him, until their gaze fell to Ted's lap.
Ted shivered again at the hungry look in Booster's eyes, unable to will away his ever hardening erection. “Oh, no you don't,” he said in a weak whisper. “Not with... with Clark in the next stall! He'll hear us!”
“Oh, I think he can already hear us,” Booster grinned again, suddenly moving up to plant a firm kiss on Ted's lips.
~*~*~
Already working on cleaning the blood and grime from a few lacerations on Bruce's arms as he sat beside him on the bench, Clark couldn't suppress a smirk as Booster's words came straight to his ears. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, not by any means, but the sounds of the two men in the adjacent shower were just too insistent to ignore.
“Oh God, Booster, stop!” Ted hissed, and Clark had to stifle a chuckle as the unmistakable sound of a mouth working a cock reached him, slurping and sucking and loud.
“What are you laughing at?” Bruce grumbled at him, lathering his chest up with stiff movements.
Clark just shook his head. “Nothing. Just. Our 'neighbors' being fairly indiscreet,” he answered, not daring to say anything more than that. Oh, it was such a mistake to listen in.
Bruce grunted in reply, trying in vain to reach his own back with the loofah, and Clark couldn't help rolling his eyes. “Will you just let me finish, already? You're in no shape to even do this.” And God, his bruises looked even worse under the lights in the shower room.
Again, Bruce grunted, but with an air of defeat this time, handing over the loofah. “Fine. But make it quick.”
“Oh, I have no intention of that. Now turn a little so I can to reach.”
A glare, and Bruce complied, shifting stiffly to present his back. Clark started working in slow circles, massaging out the kinks that he could see plain as day in Bruce's muscles. He was rewarded immediately with tiny little grunts and sounds that could've been moans, and leaning over Bruce's shoulder, he dropped a kiss there, nuzzling into his lover's neck.
“That isn't exactly standard post-mission care, you know,” Bruce complained, not quite protesting enough to be taken seriously as he turned his head to catch Clark's gaze.
But Clark wouldn't be deterred, reaching around to work the soap into Bruce's front, massaging the muscles there as well. “What's your point? I'm taking care of you, that's all there is to it.” Dropping his hand slowly, he started lathering Bruce's abs, working further south with each massaging circle. And oh. Oh. “I suppose I should be taking care of that, too?”
Bruce only grunted again, leaning back enough to press a kiss to Clark's lips and arch into his touch, and when a full-fledged groan tore from his throat, Clark grinned into their kiss. Maybe there was hope for them, yet.
~*~*~
Panting as Booster worked him, a hand joining the action where that mouth was giving its full attention to his cock, Ted gasped and croaked out, “F-fuck. You have-any idea-how much trouble-we're gonna-”
But the sound of a deep groan from the adjacent stall cut off the rest of his complaining, and Booster's eyes darted up to meet his, a look of shocked surprise passing between them. Until that bright blue gaze turned so wicked that Ted just knew he was in for it, that mouth sucking him even harder as Booster's hand disappeared, and-
“Fuck!” Ted startled, the shout escaping him despite his best efforts when a finger pressed into him, wriggling and probing just right. “Shit,” he whispered. “God, Booster.”
A loud pop as his lover disengaged from his dick, and a wide grin moved over that face. “Dare you to do better, Big Blue,” Booster said conversationally, eyes glittering with mischief.
“I cannot believe you just did that,” Ted protested, but that finger pressed deeper and those lips slid back over his cock, and all he could manage from there was a desperate whimper.
~*~*~
On the other side of the partition, Clark laughed again, losing the loofah completely to devote his full attention to Bruce's unmistakable erection. At the very least, a good orgasm would help lessen the pain of his partner's injuries. Would do for Ted, too, so what harm was there in accepting Booster's challenge?
“I know you can hear them now, too,” he whispered in Bruce's ear. “Not like they're bothering with subtlety.”
Bruce groaned as he arched further into Clark's hand, clenching his teeth against a louder shout that Clark just knew was in there waiting to be set loose.
“You can let go, Bruce,” he urged him. “I'm here.”
“Can't,” Bruce panted, turning up to kiss him again, biting a lip hard. “Need. Control.”
Clark chuckled against his cheek. “Come on, what's the worse that can happen? The League finally has some proof that you're human and not a robot? Let it out. I'll take care of you.”
When another shout came across the shower partition, Ted cursing at Booster and very clearly about to blow, Bruce finally relented, his shout finally escaping. “Aaahh! Clark!” His body tensed in Clark's embrace, starting to shake as he panted, and Clark worked him even faster, thumb rolling over the end of his cock to hit the most sensitive places.
“Fffff-aaahhh!!” Bruce screamed, his throat going raw with it as he came, pumping over Clark's fist.
“That's it. Just let go,” Clark soothed him, dropping another kiss on his shoulder as he stroked him through the aftershocks.
Trying to get his breath back, Bruce caught his gaze again, trying and failing to look stern and disapproving with the bliss so clearly written across his features. “That better not come back to haunt me.”
~*~*~
Hearing Bruce's shout, Ted shivered again, Booster working him even harder, pressing that finger deep. So deep that-
His vision whited out as Booster hit his prostate, stroking over it deliberately slow, and his breath caught in his chest, the world shrinking down to a white hot point of pleasure, sparks of perfect bliss exploding outward through every nerve, every cell of his body. He was only barely aware of someone screaming again, and realized after a long moment, his body quivering, that it was him.
Finding Booster's eyes, he panted in utter shock, shuddering again as his lover gave his cock a last lick and finally left it, having swallowed Ted's release.
“You. I. Fuck, Booster,” was all he could get out as Booster stood and got back to work washing them both down, everything slowly coming back into focus.
With a start then, he realized just what had happened, and sat up straight, glaring at Booster. “Did-did we just have a come-off with Clark and Bruce?”
A nod, and Booster grinned, washing his own hair. “Oh yeah. Think we won, too.”
“Oh, God, I'm never gonna be able to look Bruce in the eye again.”
~*~*~
A little while later in the infirmary, Bruce sitting on the bed opposite Ted's as the medical staff tended to their injuries properly, the two men doing their best to ignore each other's presence, Clark and Booster just grinned at each other slyly from their respective partners' bedsides.
“Think we're gonna need a rematch,” Clark ventured after a few long minutes of silence, the staff working quietly around them.
Booster's grin practically doubled. “Same time next week?”
“But without all the fanfare of a mission, of course.”
“Absolutely.”
On the beds, Ted and Bruce finally glanced at each other, Ted's cheeks going pink as Bruce frowned. “They're a bad influence on each other,” Bruce said.
A nod, and Ted added, “But a good influence on us, I think.” A glance up at Booster, and he smiled faintly, their fingers twining together as Booster took his hand. “Even if we might not remember it all the time.”
And that, they could all agree on.
~*~*~*~
This entry was originally posted at http://saavikam77.dreamwidth.org/169734.html. Please comment there using OpenID.