Title: Pleasant Surprises
Author: Zevllyn
Words: 2,001 (count in story)
Rating: Rated T for implied circumstances
Pairings: Superman x Batman
Disclaimer: Sadly, they're not mine, nor will they ever be.
Notes: Doing some research for class on Ancient Egypt and decided to scribble out a piece.

A wave of peace washed over him as he descended to the familiar balcony, landing with a feather light touch, his cape still flowing behind him as he walked over to the large French doors that stood in between him and one of the most comfortable beds he'd ever slept on. The night was warm, thankfully not too hot as a continuous cool breeze kept the heat in check as he allowed the doors to stay open, the curtains shifting out through the opening, as if they were wishing to be swept away in the wind. He came to a stop beside the large plush chair positioned in front of the fireplace, toeing off the red boots he wore as his hands reached up to unclasp the equally red cape.

Padding over to the wardrobe in the opposite corner of the room he opened a heavy dark stained oak door to grab for his pajamas, a simple scrub design he switched in place of the bright blue spandex with the S blazoned on the front of it, also leaving the yellow belt he usual wore. Sighing as the familiar, light clothing brushed over his skin, he wandered out of the room in search of the kitchen, feeling a little snack-ish after the days' events.

"Mr. Kent!" Alfred exclaimed as the Man of Steel suddenly appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, putting down the cup of tea in his hands and slipping off of the bar stool. "I hadn't been aware you were visiting this evening."

Clark gave a warm smile, holding up his hand as the elderly man immediately started fussing about. "I'm sorry Alfred, it wasn't exactly planned."

"Can I get you something to drink? To eat, perhaps?" He inquired, already musing around in the refrigerator, setting out various items along the countertop beside it.

"Don't worry about it, I can– "

"Sit, sit! This won't take but a moment."

He did as instructed, once again impressed as the moment he relaxed, before him placed a plate a simple sandwich garnished with fruits and vegetables, a dipping sauce and a large glass of milk. "You amaze me every time. Thank you Alfred."

"It is but my job, sir." Alfred replied, his eyebrow arching at a silent red dot flashing next to the television set that had caught his attention. "Ah, I believe Master Bruce has returned – " He trailed off as he refilled his tea-cup, a sudden short burst of wind blowing through the kitchen as Clark's body – and his food – disappeared, a small smile on his lips. "But I don't really need to tell you that do I…"

[=x=x=x=x=x=x=]

He rested for a moment inside the Batmobile, thankful he was finally home after tonight's bout, before muttering the command 'open' to have the top slide back as he painfully pulled himself out of the vehicle. His side throbbed as he walked, making him take his sweet time up the stairs, one hand holding a death grip to the railing, just before he practically threw himself into the computer chair, his arm wrapped around his middle as he just sat there, his eyes closed. He wasn't aware of how long he had actually been sitting there but when his mind started to drift off, making him hear a voice calling his name, he instantly wished he had enough strength to at least get him into his bed.

"Bruce?"

Eyes snapping open, he whirled around and stood up from the chair, his positioned crouched in defense as one hand hovered over a Batarang if he needed it. His vision swam as a blurry image approached him from the shadows, knowing it wasn't Alfred by the way they called his name, his mind clicking as he was finally able to blink a few times to clear his sight, the surprise in his voice. "Cl...Clark?"

Cerulean eyes were wide and filled with worry as Clark stepped in to the light, his pace quickening and arms held out as Batman's battered form started slumping towards the ground. "Bruce…what happened?" He asked as he carefully grabbed Bruce's frame, hands moving to the covered face.

Bruce winced as he felt the large hand pull the cowl away from his face, some of the fabric sticking to the already dried blood that was on his temple. "It's nothing." He grunted as he took a breath to steady himself, pushing Clark an arm's length away as he found his footing.

"Yes," Clark frowned he softly poked the man in his ribs, obviously calling the bluff as his eyes went red for a moment, assessing damage and immediately finding at least two cracked ribs. "I can see that."

"Stop that." Bruce said with a wave of his hand and a scowl, willing Clark's x-ray vision to turn off as he somehow managed to move around the man, intent on falling face first into the bed.

He grabbed the other's arm, effectively bringing the injured man to a halt and frowning when Bruce shrugged off his grip. Using his sped, he made himself a blur until he stood right before Bruce, his arms crossed as he looked down at the man. "Where are you going?"

His eyes narrowed as he jabbed his own finger into the man's chest. "Don't puff your chest out at me, Clark. I'm not in the mood. Now move."

"Bath first. Then we'll dress your wounds."

"Fine."

Clark suddenly reached out, tucking his arms around Bruce's back and underneath his legs until he swept the man up into his arms. He felt a twinge of guilt as Bruce grunted in pain at being jostled so suddenly but instantly forgot about it as the man beat him on the chest with a fist. "Knock it off." He said as he used his speed again to return them to the ground level, rushing through the halls until they reached the bathroom.

"I'm not a child." He grumbled as Clark set him down on the vanity counter before turning around to draw water into the bath. Slipping off, he unclasped his utility belt, laying it on the counter where he was sitting before he somehow tried to peel off the rest of his suit, hissing as the wounds on his side stretched painfully and his arms felt too heavy to lift anything. He blinked at a tearing sound, frowning as Clark's face appeared and his slightly tattered suit now lay in ripped shreds on the floor. "Seriously?"

"What?" He avoided Bruce's eyes as he grabbed Bruce's arm, helping the stoic man into the steamy water.

"That's the third suit this month, Clark." Bruce pointed out, fidgeting as the water burned him at first before his body started to adjust little to the heat.

"You have lots of suits, Bruce." Clark reminded him as he reached for a wash cloth.

"I would…appreciate it…if you would stop ruining them." He said as the water rushed over the wounds that were still fresh.

"Maybe you shouldn't be wearing them then." He muttered, dipping the fabric of a wash cloth into the water before running it up along Bruce's arm.

Bruce stared at him in shock at the uncharacteristically bold statement that just came from Clark's mouth. "Have you lost your mind?" Anger began to boil underneath his skin as he pushed himself up into a sitting position, his hands grabbing at the wrists that held the cloth washing away the dirt, blood and sweat from his body. "Give up…just like that? No. I won't –"

Clark placed a finger over Bruce's mouth, giving him an exasperated look as he cut off the man's rant. "Leave it to you Bruce, to miss the innuendo."

He blinked again as his mind quickly replayed their last couple of exchanges, the heat suddenly getting to him as the back of his neck and cheeks flushed with red as he realized what the Man of Steel had referred to. Looking away from Clark's smug face, he snatched the wash cloth and began picking at his side to clean it, hearing a small 'don't fall asleep' before the other disappeared. He snorted at the unnecessary sentence as Clark almost immediately reappeared, a fresh pair of pants and underwear for him.

"Come on." Clark said after he set down the items, holding out one hand to the man in the tub while his other held up a large fluffy Egyptian towel to dry off in. Patting Bruce dry, he took a step back as Bruce grumbled that he could at least dress himself before he was reaching down underneath the sink for the first aid kit, setting it on the counter and grabbing for the antiseptic and a cotton ball. "She got your back too?" He noticed the long thin marks scratched down along Bruce's back and frowned. "What was she after?"

"A jar that held —Bast? Baset? Bastet's remains or something…" He stuttered as the pain from cleaning his wounds got to him, making him lose his focus. "Egyptian Cat Goddess."

"Ironic." Clark muttered, carefully applying the salve before placing a large square Band-Aid right between the shoulder blades.

Bruce grunted in agreement as Clark put another patch over his left side while he wrapped his right bicep with a roll of gauze, his wounds slightly throbbing but in less pain than before as they threw away the used items and returned the kit back underneath the sink. Finding himself back up in Clark's arms, he kept quiet, his eyes looking everywhere but the surprised expression on the other man's face that questioned why he was letting himself be manhandled again in the same night, only wishing for the soft comfort of his king sized bed.

Sighing as his face hit the plush goose feathered pillow; he reached, fingers tugging at the big hand as it pulled away. "Clark—"

Clark only smiled, his white teeth gleaming in the darkness from the moonlight that spilled into the room through the open French doors. Taking a moment for himself, he used his acute hearing to listen in on the world around them before he climbed into bed behind Bruce as softly as he could to not jostle his wounds any more than necessary. His breath hitched for a moment as soon as he settled himself down when Bruce rolled over, tossing an arm over his torso and a leg over his lower body.

Bruce tightened his hold, ducking his head under Clark's arm as it wrapped around him so he could rest his head on the man's shoulder, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, filling his lungs with the familiar smell of steel and earth before letting it out slowly. Clark grabbed at the sheet with his toes, pulling it up until he could grab it with his hand, draping the light fabric over both of their bodies as Bruce gave a small shudder, pleased as he heard Bruce's heartbeat finally begin to slow down.

It was moments like these he truly loved. Taking time – not nearly as much as he wanted to, but had to – to enjoy it the best he could without having to worry about giant robots storming down Metroplis's main street, burning buildings, alien invasions or collecting the old lady's cat stuck in a tree. It were nights, like these, where he could spend with Bruce, holding him in his arms knowing he was there, alive and safe not broken and defeated, dying in some godforsaken alleyway, that fully allowed him to relax and forget about his worries.

Waiting until Bruce's breathing evened out to signal he had finally fallen asleep, Clark turned his head, placing a kiss upon his lover's forehead, let out a small laugh as it caused Bruce to snuggle closer to him. He exhaled in content, submitting himself to relaxing in the wonderful plush of the bed and closing his eyes, before drifting off to sleep.