Chapter Text
TITLE: In the Hothouse 3/3
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77 (Whiterose)
RATING: Adult
WORD COUNT: 2,421
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.
SUMMARY: As the spore’s effects wane, Clark and Bruce set about doing their job but it isn’t so easy.
~*~
After redressing, they entered the function room to find the police were already there, and some first responders too helping ashamed and embarrassed people out of the building. Clark and Bruce skirted around the tangles of bodies and limbs that were under the influence of the spores still. Bruce and Clark glanced at each other, they knew they couldn’t mend the emotional wellbeing of these people in the aftermath, but they could investigate the cause. Bruce crossed over to a plant pot strewn on the floor. He noticed one of the charity attendants on the floor nearby affected by the spores of the plant he had carried in to the party. It told him that the attendants were blameless, and weren’t part of the plan to cause this chaos.
He crouched down and looked at the plant and the pot, he saw in the soil tiny red crystals in the compost. He felt Clark’s approach, and he warned, “Stay back, it looks as if these plants were grown in soil contaminated by red K.”
He sensed Clark halt at his warning, though he expected Clark to be drawn to the source, and top up the high he had been on but instantly he was all business, he asked, “Do you think it was an accident or by design?”
“I don’t know, whoever set this up, wouldn’t know Superman would be here…”
“But if they thought I might turn up for the save…”
He huffed, “In Gotham…?”
Clark chuckled, “I can go anywhere I want; it’s only my indulging you that stops me.”
That blatant remark reminded him that his teammate was still under the effects of the red K, even if the needs caused by the spores had been satisfied. He glanced up and raised a scolding eyebrow. Clark smirked cockily down at him in return. Bruce wondered, “Are you capable of doing your job as you are now?”
“Capable yes, do I want to, now that’s another story.” Clark locked gazes with him provokingly, and then murmured, “But I’ll be a good little boy if you want me to be, baby.”
Bruce licked his lips, and then replied, “I want you to be a good boy.”
Clark nodded along. Bruce turned his attention back to the plant, “The most obvious candidate is…”
“Poison Ivy.” he finished the thought.
“That’s right, but what did she have to gain?”
“It was a charity event, maybe she thought it should be in aid of Friends of the Earth or something.”
His mouth kicked up at the edges despite himself. “Maybe.” He glanced around, “First we need to know if the donations, really have been stolen.”
As he spoke the words, the plant he had been examining re-fired and covered him in spores. He had moments to groan, “Oh shit.” before he crumpled to the floor.
He came to being carried within strong arms, his focus found the handsome face, that belonged to those arms. He realised what had happened, but as before his priority was that face. Befuddled, he reached up and caressed that revered face, and asked, “Where are we going?”
Clark smiled, but didn’t answer him; he set him down on his feet instead. Bruce glanced around for the first time and saw they were outside on the street, he saw police cars, medics attending the scene, and news vans, then he saw Alfred and the limo waiting there. Alfred approached, “Good lord is everything alright? They wouldn’t let me in”
It was Clark who replied, “I want you to take him home Alfred.”
Bruce’s fuzzy mind protested at the idea of leaving his teammate when there was a job to do and a crime to solve. He pawed at Clark’s chest, “No, I want to stay with you, we’ve got to find those missing donations.”
Alfred’s eyes widened at his wittering, and Clark chuckled softly, and cupped Bruce’s face in his hands, “Listen, you told me to be a good boy, so I will be, I’m going to get that stolen stuff back. I can’t do that if I have to make sure you don’t succumb to anyone else’s advances, okay?”
Bruce leaned in, and said adoringly, “It’s not okay. I don’t want anyone else. I want to be with you.”
Clark glanced at Alfred, and then returned his intense gaze to Bruce, “When I’ve dealt with this, I’ll come to you at the Manor okay.”
He was trying to fight the turmoil inside him, the need to be with his lover was overwhelming, but he could see in Clark’s eyes that he wasn’t going to let him stay. Obviously, Clark’s need for him wasn’t enough to sway him now. He grasped Clark’s head in his hands, “Promise you’ll come.”
Clark got in close, “I promise.” He vowed.
Then Bruce lunged and kissed him desperately. He heard Alfred gasp, “Oh dear.” beside them.
Then Clark growled softly into his mouth and returned the kiss ravenously. With the cool night air on his perspiring skin, Bruce wallowed in the pleasure of those lips but before he was ready to stop, Clark pulled back abruptly, and then gently pushed him towards the limo, “Now go home.”
He did as he was told, on the promise made to him and he let Alfred drive him home.
~*~
It was later; he was at home at the Manor. He paced his bedroom, the comedown from the spores was excruciating without his lustful needs being satisfied. He thought about Clark, he had promised to come to him, but he hadn’t arrived yet. He knew Clark said he would deal with the situation with the robbery, and under normal circumstances he’d trust him to do that one hundred percent but it wasn’t ordinary, because not only had Clark been affected by the spores the first time just as Bruce had, it was red K affecting him too. Ordinarily, it would be Bruce trying to contain Clark if he was affected by red K, but his teammate had promised to be good for him. Giddily, he smiled to himself imagining that his wishes could stop a red K affected Clark doing whatever the hell he wanted. He could do anything.
His mind turned to Clark being worried, wanting to make sure that Bruce didn’t succumb to someone else’s advances. He winced and went to the window and searched the skyline. What if Clark hadn’t come to him, because he was the one who had succumbed to someone else? But he’d promised him hadn’t he, and if it were within Clark Kent’s power, he would keep his promise. Bruce desperately needed him to come back. He hadn’t even had a shower yet, he’d wanted Clark to find him as he had left him and reclaim him.
He began pacing again.
~*~
It was even later; the power of the spores had waned. Clark hadn’t come as he had promised, however Bruce was kind of relieved. He winced as he left the shower, he could already tell his body was going to be punished in the morning for asking for the ferocity of Clark’s wild and intense attentions tonight. If he had come, Bruce might’ve been bed-bound after a second round.
Tired and with his strength failing him, he lifted the bedsheets, and slipped between the cool cotton. The coolness against hot skin prickled his sensitive flesh. He attempted to relax, tried to unwind. He tried to forget there was a case to solve out in the world, out in his city. He chided himself because he knew in his current state that he didn’t have the capacity for the physicality of it.
In the dark, memories of tonight came unbidden; his body remembered the liquid heat of their encounter, hot and dirty. He imagined Clark’s blushes when they saw each other again. He breathed deeply and tried to put the thoughts aside for now.
He didn’t remember falling asleep, but a presence in the bedroom woke him. He opened his eyes and stared unblinking at the wall on the far side of the room. Behind him, he heard the French windows close. He saw a silhouette on the wall. He stayed motionless as he heard clothes hitting the bedroom floor. He licked his lips as a hot strong body slipped into bed behind him.
The solid body pressed to his back, and Bruce’s eyes closed slowly as his lover murmured, “I thought you were waiting up for me.”
Bruce breathed deeply, and then sleepily asked, “Did you find…?”
A gentle caress down his bicep, and then he replied, “All done.”
“Really?” he queried.
“Took longer than I thought, but yeah it’s done, everything is where it should be.”
Bruce sighed in relief. Then Clark kissed his shoulder, and wrapped a powerful arm around Bruce’s waist. After everything today, and although he knew he had invited the amorous attention, Bruce tried to defer, “I’m worn out.”
He subtly tried giving himself some space, but Clark’s arm tightened around him, and he uttered huskily into his ear, “Let me hold you.”
He groaned softly, and with acceptance, he relaxed back into his lover’s embrace.
~*~
He woke again when there was light in the bedroom. It was a bit early for him to get up, but he knew now that he was awake he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. He hissed as his body ached, just as he knew it would this morning. He sat up in bed, and winced and then he glanced to the side and found the man who had the blame for causing his aches sleeping naked beside him. He gazed at him for a long moment, and then he pursed his lips, and then he reached out and stroked his bangs away from his forehead. He sighed, and then winced again as he got off the bed carefully. He went and used the bathroom, and then he slipped on some sweatpants and a t-shirt and then padded down to the kitchen.
As he entered, Alfred was sitting at the kitchen table. He glanced up from the reading the morning newspaper. He said archly, “Good morning Master Bruce.”
Taking note of his tone, Bruce shook his head, “I know I know.”
The older man put down the newspaper, “You remember everything that occurred last night?”
He groaned softly, “Yes.”
Alfred raised a brow, stood up, and then pointed at the newspaper on the table, and without saying anymore; he went over to the kettle and switched it on. Bruce followed the pointer, and he took Alfred’s place at the table, and then looked at the newspaper. He cringed, seeing an article about the shambles his charity event had become, and the orgy that ensued. The article revealed Superman had indeed recovered the stolen valuables, and for that, he was thankful for. It was the headline that was the cause of his cringe; ‘Hothouse Wayne deflowered’.
“Breakfast Master Bruce?” Alfred inquired.
He sighed distractedly, “No, just coffee and toast.”
Alfred echoed his sigh, and turned around to prepare his meagre choice.
Bruce continued to gaze at one of the photographs that accompanied the article, caught at the height of their hungry kiss on the sidewalk. He muttered under his breath, “Great.”
Alfred set his coffee cup next to him on the table. Bruce glanced up at his old friend, “At least he still had his glasses on.”
The older man smirked subtly, and Bruce shook his head, and picked up his coffee and took a sip.
~*~
As Bruce left a corner of a crust of bread on his plate, and went for a last sip of his coffee, he felt a presence, and glanced up and found Clark entering the kitchen, wearing a robe, looking dishevelled and tentative. Bruce met his gaze and commented, “You look worse for wear.”
Clark licked parched lips, and shrugged. “It’s what I imagine a hangover is like.”
“Well you did get double dosed.” He said lightly.
“So did you.”
“Yeah but it’s not the same is it.”
Beside them, Alfred offered Clark a glass of orange juice. Clark pinched his lips, and uttered, “Thanks.” Then he took a gulp. Then he met Bruce’s gaze again and said, “Crazy night.”
“Yeah you could say that.”
Bruce turned the newspaper and showed him the photo and the headline. Clark cringed in reaction. Bruce snorted, “Two journalists already there, but neither got the scoop, the shame.”
Clark caught the tone in his voice, and asked, “What are you implying?”
“What happened to your partner, you two looked a little close when the spores hit?”
The other man’s eyes narrowed, “What are you talking about?”
“It took you a long time to get here last night.”
“Are you really saying this? When the spores hit, I took Lois home to Metropolis, and I knocked her out so she didn’t have to go through what everyone else there went through, and then I left her, then I came back for you.”
Bruce nodded silently.
“You don’t believe me?” Clark asked in bewilderment.
Stepping between them, Alfred placed a plate on the table, “Eggs on toast with some crispy bacon, Master Clark.”
Clark glanced at the plate, and then at Alfred, “Thank you Alfred.”
“You’re welcome sir.”
Clark shot Bruce a glare and then sat down at the table, he picked up his knife and fork, and began eating his breakfast, and then suddenly he pointed his fork at him. “I can’t believe after what we did, you could think I had anyone else on my mind except you.”
Bruce smiled wryly, “I never accused you of anything Clark. I do trust my partner you know.”
Clark blinked slowly, and then a begrudging smile came to his lips. “Well so you should.”
“I do Clark.”
He remembered how Sam Ford had left the arms of his pretty young thing and rekindled his passion for his old flame, and what that had revealed. He smiled, “It’s a good thing we were both there last night or we might’ve been in the same predicament as everyone else.”
His boyfriend leaned in and kissed him with buttery lips, and smiled wistfully, “It was one hell of a ride baby.”
“Yes it was.” He confirmed.
The end