Happy Birthday, ariestess!
DC Comics/JLA

Batman/Superman


Eyes

"I thought you had a date tonight." Batman crouched on the gargoyle and looked at Clark, floating in midair.

"She canceled. Again. Bruce, never date a reporter. They're worse than superheroes." He was unaffected by the cold midwinter air. Of course.

Batman's own thermally enhanced uniform made it possible for him to ignore the subfreezing temperatures to a point, but that point was not far off. He wondered if Clark even understood.

Fries was probably walking around in a swimsuit in his Arkham cell.

"Why aren't you back in Metropolis? Surely there's something for you to do there."

"It's too cold. Everyone is safe and warm inside their homes. And I just came back from an assignment, so I don't even have a story to write. I'm bored."

If Batman believed in God, he'd have sent up prayer for strength in dealing with bored demigods. And in gratitude that Clark was rarely whimsical. The very thought would have made his blood run cold, except that it was already quite cold as it was. "I'm busy."

"You are not busy. It's colder here than in Metropolis. There's no one outside who doesn't need to be outside, and the worst of your psychopaths are locked away right now. And not even they are going to stage a break tonight." He took a look around the city, eyes narrowed. "I've never seen Gotham so empty." Clark landed on the roof, and put a hand on Batman's shoulder. "Let me take you home. Tonight, at least, the Bat can rest."

Batman looked into Clark's eyes. They were warm and honest and impossibly innocent and made him feel...he couldn't describe it. He nodded. "Why not?"

Next thing he knew, he was flying over the abandoned streets, Clark holding him up under his arms, hands firm on his chest. His cape rippled around them both, making them a strange black bird that no one noticed on that moonless night. No one ever saw the stars in Gotham anyway.

Alfred was waiting for him in the Batcave. He raised a single eyebrow when he walked in with Clark by his side.

"We'll be going upstairs, Alfred."

"Very good, Master Bruce. Welcome, Master Clark. Will you be taking a shower first, sir?"

Batman, now too warm in the thermal suit, nodded. "Excellent, sir. Master Clark, you are to be congratulated in getting Master Bruce in out of the cold."

Clark smiled at that. Batman sniffed as he pulled off his cape and cowl. Then Clark followed him upstairs into the main house, and then to his bedroom. "You know, you can wait for me in the library. Alfred can supply you with all the milk you can drink. Possibly cookies as well."

There was a rush of air. "Or I can wash your back." Bruce dropped the robe he'd taken out of his closet. Clark was naked. Magnificently so.

So was he. "Aren't you...aren't you dating Lois?" Who was a woman, and, clearly, an idiot for not being there.

"Superman is. I'm Clark." He smiled, and it went straight to Bruce's cock. "And I'm not in the mood right now for milk and cookies." There was another rush of air, and Bruce was also naked, if less magnificently so. Although Clark's eyes said something else - and how could they look so pure with everything he'd seen? Bruce's soul wasn't even his anymore. It belonged to the Bat, and the Bat was made from Gotham and dirty alleys.

He let Clark take him into the shower, knowing that if he'd resisted, Clark would have stopped. He let Clark adjust the temperature, and how a man who could withstand any extreme of cold and hot could get it even close to right was impossible to imagine, but Clark managed. He let Clark pull him behind the glass doors, and soap him down as if Clark's touch could make him clean.

And then Clark slipped to his knees and *grinned** at him as if he were a small boy about to do something amazing and wonderful and unheard of. And then, he did something amazing and wonderful and unheard of. So much so that Bruce had to grab hold of Clark's head to keep from falling.

Clark stopped what he was doing, and Bruce didn't know how he felt about that. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. I'm...that's...I've never felt anything like that before. Give me a moment." He cringed at the admission, and cringed even more when Clark's eyes widened. He waited for something - words of sympathy or disbelief, a look of disgust - something. What he got was Clark's mouth back where it had been, but gentler, and slower, and his tongue was...and his lips and his hands, and it didn't take long for Bruce to reach orgasm - he didn't have time to warn Clark, but Clark didn't seem to want a warning. He swallowed everything. And Bruce knew that happened - Bruce had seen it happen to other men but never thought it would be him.

Clark stood then, a smile of accomplishment on his face and mischief in his eyes, before turning his head into the spray and allowing the water to run into his mouth and out. Then he pulled Bruce into his arms and kissed him. Bruce could sense the control behind the passion and shivered slightly. This man could crush him without a thought, except that Clark never let that happen. And his lips were wet and his mouth tasted just faintly of salt and bitterness and his hands were gentle on his body. His naked body pressed against Clark's naked body - all that contact, all that skin and if anything, it was more unimaginable than Clark's mouth on him.

But Clark was hard and Alfred had brought him up with manners, even if he didn't show them much. So, and why was he nervous? He routinely fought supervillains and jumped between rooftops and dived off of buildings, and without powers to help. He reached for Clark's cock. And he thought his hands were large, but this filled them, and he started to stroke it. And Clark smiled at him before he began to gasp and hold on to the sides of the shower himself.

And even if Bruce wasn't very good at it, he seemed to be good enough, because Clark enjoyed himself. Thoroughly and all over Bruce and the shower, which was starting to get cold.

They finished and left, to find warm robes waiting for them in Bruce's bedroom, along with a thermos of hot chocolate and a plate of cookies. And a note from Alfred saying that Master Clark was welcome to come over whenever he wished.

"I guess he approves." Clark wrapped himself up and settled by the little table. He poured them both generous cups of chocolate before nibbling on a cookie. "Hmm. You think Alfred would trade recipes with my mother?"

Bruce, feeling like someone else was inside his skin, sat next to him. He picked up the cup, but didn't drink. "Why?"

Clark understood the question. "Because you're my friend and I thought it would be fun." Oh, God, that smile again. "It was fun, right?"

"I..." Fun? "Yes. It was. I had no idea...does that bother you?" He forced himself to take a sip.

Clark shrugged. "Well, I wonder why, but other than that - there are so many things I can show you if you'll let me. Or not." He finished his cup of chocolate and poured another. Bruce wondered if Clark would ever show any effects. "Whatever you want, Bruce."

Bruce sat back, holding his cup. He didn't know what was happening here, or why Alfred was so happy, or even why Clark was here. He just wanted the world to make sense again, and he didn't think it would for a long time.

Before he could come up with something to say, Clark's cellphone rang from somewhere in his tights. A rush of air. "Kent. What do you mean, you need me, Lois? It's my night off...yeah, I know. We had that date thing. There is no such thing as a journalistic emergency. " Long pause. "Okay, that would count. Not exactly a job for Superman, though. Okay, not funny. I'll be there in 20 minutes."

Bruce blinked. And the cookie plate was empty, as was Clark's second cup of chocolate, and Bruce's own, and Clark was back in uniform. "I have to fly. Lois' interview just dropped a bomb on her - not literally, in this case. She wants me as backup. And from what she said - Supes had better be there, too." He gave Bruce a kiss on the mouth that left him gasping. "I'll be back. Believe me." And then he was out the window and gone.

Bruce poured himself the remaining chocolate and sat there, his hand on his mouth. "And he told me never to date a reporter."