He blinked as he felt the lips tucked under his ear—his mouth opening to retort—only to be engulfed in a pit of desire that threatened his very innocence even though there wasn't much left to take. He didn't speak. He had once tried to growl, but that growl had soon died down in his throat replaced by a low grumble that wanted more than it should have.

His eyes awkwardly moved from the door to the paperwork on his desk in front of him. He had wanted to get it done before his meeting in an hour, however, as he clenched his pen in his hand, he was suddenly pulled into a fantasy that included the pen itself and the man in a compromising position. This made the pen drop from his hand and stare vigorously up front. The molestor had decided to take full advantage of this.

Placing his leg over his lap to the other side, he trapped him in his large boss chair. The boss/the molested blinked and watched the man silently who began to straddle him. The man wanted a death wish, he thought to himself. Although.. He knew this man, and he knew the kinds of risks he took. He liked them, he welcomed them, though he'd be caught dead saying it.

Even now, he hesitated. His mouth opening, but closing after a few seconds as he felt those magnificent lips at his ear again, and then his cheek and eyes, and lips and chins, and suddenly the intoxicating touch was everywhere.

He groaned and called out his name.

He blinked his eyes open. Alone, in a dark room; it was all a dream, he thought to himself. He sat up slowly as if he was trying to contemplate the situation before his hand moved to his head as if he had a headache. Well, the hangover didn't really help much.

The thought of the man in his dreams—his fast movements, his noble touches, and the way he murmured his name sexily—made him shiver in a subtle way. Only him, he thought to himself. Only that man would have made him feel like that.

Rubbing his temple, he decided that he could no longer get to sleep. How else when you were dreaming about a man you acted like you completely despised? Who was practically dating a beautiful news anchor that, he had to admit, he had once loved too.

Now he had Diana. Well not specifically, but he was slowly coming to terms with it. Though it would never work out especially if he was thinking about a man who he was practically working alongside and her too.

Who probably never even thought for a second to pursue that kind of relationship with him.

He peeled off the sheets, and blinked down at himself. Utter chaos. He sighed; this was one of the things he hated most about his dreams. He slowly placed them back over himself,

"… Alfred!"

The butler, who had been with him since childhood, poked his head through the door to look at his master's exhausted appearance. With an amused expression, he asked, "Did Superman pay another visit, Master Wayne?"

"Shut up and get some new sheets!"