Title: A Man of Many Talents
Disclaimer: Me no own, You no sue
Warning: Slashieness
Note: ...
-z-
He knows what needs to be done and when it needs doing and always, always has the perfect plan to go about doing this thing that needs to be done.
Now, his prey has entered his sights: young, tall, broad shoulders, and ridiculous thick-rimmed glasses...
-
He likes the way the criminals fear him. How they whisper his name in fear and loathing.
He likes the way the women love him. How they moan his name in ecstasy and know nothing about who he really is, only wanting the bragging rights that come with having Bruce Wayne's cock inside them.
He likes the way he can pretend. How he can manuever his way through his crowed ballroom and remember the names and faces of those who are just as flimsy as the battles between Two-Face and Harvey.
He likes living the double life, the life of a bat and the life of a gazillionaire.
He loves when he gets his new toys: weapons, cars, jets, boats. All themed like the bat he lives by.
He loves how good Clark's teeth feel as they scrape along his jaw. Clark Kent, the best thing about being Bruce, the large arms and the warmth contrasting visciously with the cold of Gotham's dark, dark nights. Clark, the only person who could boss him around.
They had been friends at first, the playboy dilettante and the clumsy reporter who met at the opening of a surgical center. To onlookers, the two seemed unlikely friends, talking just to be polite.
But to those on the inside, they saw something else entirely...
-
Bruce never could refuse anything beautiful. And oh, Clark was the epitome of beauty and strength and power and naiveness. The almost exact opposite of his alias, Superman. Superman was the light in Batman's pitch-black world.
But stop right there, please do not get it confused, it was not Superman whom Bruce loved, it was Clark, and these distinctions must be made. Superman focused too much on the job for Bruce's taste, focused too much on the smiling and the saving of puppies from the oncoming cars and kittens from the trees.
-
Sunlight streams in and he can feel Clark stretching beside him, taking in the warmth of it all.
"Why are the fuckin' curtains open?" Bruce growls into the pillow.
"Because no one closed them," Clark answers matter-of-factly.
Bruce curses under his breath, curling his upper lip in distaste as he ambles over to the window and jerking the curtains closed before collapsing again onto the large and oh-so-very-fluffy bed.
Clark laughs aloud at Bruce's antics.
"What's so funny?" the other man demands.
"You," Clark is still laughing, though he had the decency to try and hide it. It's not working.
"Bats are nocturnal."
"And Superman needs the sunlight to survive."
Bruce only yawned and turned onto his side, presenting his back to his lover and quickly falling back to sleep.
Clark Kent pouted.
Clark Kent grinned.
Clark Kent planned...
-
"Do you know what to do?"
Tim and Dick nodded, smiling up at Clark.
"I will take no part in this affair," Alfred stated, walking in the direction of the kitchen.
"Your loss," Tim called after him. He looked back at Clark, "Let's play."
"Battle stations," Clark smiled, crossing his arms and taking off into the air toward the Master bedroom. He opened the door silently, peering around the wood. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw that the bed was empty. "Bruce?" he called, stepping over the threshold.
And that when the cold water splashed into his face. Cold, ice cold, water that was cold to the second power.
"You think you can hide anything from me in my own home?" Bruce Wayne shook his head, tsking. "Don't be stupid, Clark." Bruce set the glass down on a dresser.
"How'd you know?"
"I've been awake since the curtain thing."
"How did I not hear you?"
"I'm a man of many talents," Bruce winked and backed up slowly in the direction of the bed, wagging his finger as he said, "Come on, I'll show you some other things I can do."
-z-