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2007-10-09
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A Taste of Pomegranate

Summary:

When Superman comes across a new kind of Kryptonite, he has to deal with some unexpected feelings for his old friend.

Work Text:

Superman was reading a Kryptonian history book when the Fortress monitor chimed softly:  Batman's signal.  "What is it, B?"

The screen filled with Batman's grim face, the walls of the cave behind framing it in darkness.  "That asteroid that fell to Earth last week.  The one from the same sector of space as Krypton," he started with no preliminaries. 

Kal smiled slightly at the familiar brusque tone and set the book aside.  "Yes?"

"Found this."  Batman held up a small dull-gray box with a stone in it.  "Matched the chemical composition of Kryptonite, but tests don't reveal anything more.  Kind of dead-ended here."

"It's been over a week and this is the first time it's crossed your mind to tell me you've found a new kind of Kryptonite?"

A grunt.  "I was going to tell you eventually."

"Uh-huh."  Kal eyed the stone on the monitor warily.  It looked rather like rose quartz:  a pale pink with veins of something sparkly running through it.  "It's pretty."

Batman snorted.  "Pretty.  Well, I'll keep it here until you see fit to pick it up and run your own tests on it."

Kal rolled his eyes slightly.  "I'll be there in a couple of minutes."

: : :

The beam of light hit the pink rock and passed through it;  the Fortress computer beeped and scrolled messages, but there was once again nothing conclusive.  From behind his lead barrier, Superman instructed his robots to stop the test. 

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and went over the last two weeks' worth of notes.  Nothing conclusive.  "Open a line to the Batcave," he told the computer.

"You're lucky I'm in.  What's the problem?"

"Nice to talk to you too, Miss Mary Sunshine."  Kal waited politely for Batman's snort before continuing.  "I haven't had any luck figuring out that pink K.  I've run just about every test I can think of on it.  I'm forced to conclude that--"

"--No.  You are not going to tell me that you're going to test it on yourself."

"Well, I thought it might be considered polite to warn you, but if you'd prefer I not tell you--"

"What if it just kills you outright?  What if it blinds you permanently?  What if it gives you amnesia?  What if--"

"Are you done?"

"No!  As a matter of fact, I'm just beginning the list of things that could go horribly wrong."

Kal tried not to let his annoyance show too obviously.  "Of course I've exposed it to living tissue samples;  they haven't burst into flame or anything so dramatic.  Plus, I've got the robots here.  They're instructed to stop me if I do anything at all irrational, or to care for me if I'm hurt.  I'm really not interested in having some new strain of Kryptonite around that I have no knowledge of."

Batman made a frustrated growling noise.  "If you aren't going to listen to reason, why did you even bother to call?"

Kal realized he wasn't sure exactly how to phrase it.  "My robots are extremely well-programmed, but they're not...human.  I would like to have you watch and make sure they're not missing something."

Batman's eyes narrowed behind the cowl.  "You do realize that if that causes you excruciating agony and I have to sit here and watch it, it would...distract me from my work?"

"Oh really?"  Kal wasn't sure if Batman was joking or not, but it seemed safest to assume he was.  "And here I thought my cries of agony would make soothing background music for you."

Batman made a noise rather like jagged bits of metal grinding together.  "If you're set on it, get it over with, Kal."

"All right, then."  Superman lifted the lead shielding. 

Nothing happened.

He took a few steps closer to the stone.  Still no response of any kind that he could discern.

"No cries of agony?  I'm disappointed," Batman's voice grated from the monitor.

The Fortress monitor beeped;  Clark went to look at the readout.  "Looks like there was just a very slight spike in heartbeat and blood pressure, and a minute rise in seratonin levels in the blood.  Huh.  Seems to effect Kryptonians like a very slight caffeine buzz."

"That's rather an anticlimax."  Batman sounded just a bit relieved.

Clark continued to scan the readout, noting a variety of miniscule chemical changes that seemed to correspond to eating chocolate or drinking coffee in humans.  "Hm," he said absent-mindedly. 

"When you have the time, Kal, I'd like to take a look at those readouts, if you don't mind."

"Huh?  No, not at all."  Kal closed the lead box and printed out the readouts.  If he was lucky and Bruce was actually in a good mood, maybe Clark would be able to stay for a cup of coffee while they went over the results together.  Talking to Bruce--when the other man wasn't trying to take Clark's head off--always seemed to make these things clearer.  "I'll be right there."  He was out the door and in the air before Batman could respond. 

He put on an extra burst of speed as he sped over Canada, reveling in the rush of wind.  It was such a shame Bruce would never lighten up enough to just go flying with him;  it would be a lot of fun to show him the joy of it all.  He hurried a little more.

He landed in the cave feeling a bit breathless.  "Hi.  Here they are." 

Batman stared at him.  "You could have just sent them via computer, you know."

Clark blinked.  Of course he could have.  He felt suddenly quite foolish.  He had been in such an all-fired hurry to get here for...no reason at all, apparently.  "Well.  Sorry to waste your time."

To his surprise, a smile flickered briefly on the grim visage.  "It's always a pleasure to see you, Kal."  The words were spoken halfway between Batman and Brucie, but Superman couldn't tell if they were mocking or not.  Batman glanced at the paper.  "Let me know if you do any more tests."

"Sure.  I've got a few more I plan on running.  I'll let you know if I get any results."

Batman grunted absently as Kal floated away, still feeling rather foolish.

: : :

A week later

Kal reached out and ran a finger along the glittering striations of the pink stone.  "What are you, anyway?"  he murmured to himself.  He couldn't quite believe that the only thing it did was raise his seratonin levels slightly, but he'd been exposed to it for a solid hour now and nothing else had happened.  It was rather discouraging, although if Bruce hadn't been able to find anything it was probably no surprise he couldn't either.

Kal's mind went back to the last time he had seen Batman as he stood there like a moron with that sheet of paper in his hands.  He felt a wave of mortification go over him.  He had looked so stupid, and in front of Bruce of all people.  He flattered himself to think that he had managed to win the prickly man's respect over the years, and he hated to think of looking like an imbecile in front of him.

Superman found himself pacing back and forth in front of the Kryptonite, unable to stop dwelling on his embarrassment.  He should have said--no, maybe he should have said--no, he certainly shouldn't have gone there in the first place.  But he had wanted to see Bruce!  Why had he balked when he had gotten there?  He'd totally wasted an opportunity to spend some quiet time with his friend.  "Idiot," he hissed to himself.

He could call Bruce.  He even had an excuse--the tests he was running.  Brilliant!  He had a channel opened to the cave before he finished the thought.  "Batman?" 

Silence answered him.  Bruce wasn't in.

Feeling distinctly crushed, Kal went back to work on the pink rock, but he kept getting distracted thinking about how he could have handled that last visit better.  Going back over the interaction, he remembered the brief smile on Batman's face.  Bruce should smile like that more often.  Not many people could make Batman smile--really smile--for even a second, so Kal supposed he should be proud of that.

The intercom rang.  "Kal?  You wanted to talk?"

Superman was at the monitor before the echoes died away.  "Bruce!  Um, I've been working on that pink K.  I just wanted to let you know I haven't made much progress."

"You wanted to let me know you hadn't made much progress." 

It sounded ludicrous when he put it like that.  Kal resisted the temptation to bury his head in his hands.  "Well, I guess I have to admit I'm starting to feel a little stir-crazy up here.  Only the robots for company.  I just wanted to hear someone's voice, I suppose."

There was a pause.  "Are you okay?"

"Sure.  I guess.  I don't know, maybe the damn Kryptonite is making me lonely.  Can Kryptonite do that?  Would you be willing to fly up and keep me company for the evening?"  He was horrified to hear himself blurt out that last question, but it was far too late to call it back.

"Hnn.  Only if you let me tinker on the Fortress computer a bit."

Kal realized he was grinning like an idiot and had to take a moment to get his voice back to casual.  "You know you're the only person besides me I trust on it."

: : :

Bruce was at the computer, cowl off, scowling at the Kryptonian symbols on the screen.  "I can switch it to English," Kal suggested.

"No.  I need the practice."

Kal tapped the pink K with a small silver hammer and checked the sonograms.  As he waited for the results he sneaked a look at Bruce, who was concentrating fiercely, a small dent between his eyebrows.  "You don't need much practice.  You've practically mastered it already."

Bruce made a small scoffing sound.  "It would take a lifetime to master that language."

Kal sat down next to Bruce, peering at the screen, leaning close enough that their shoulders touched.  "You're studying Kryptonian botany.  Why botany?"

Bruce cast him a look out of midnight-blue eyes.  Their shoulders were still touching.  Bruce could have moved his away, but Kal was obscurely glad he had chosen not to.  They were good enough friends to sit close and not worry about it being inappropriate.  He felt a surge of affection for the other man and resisted the impulse to wrap his arm around him;  he was pretty sure Bruce's trusting mood wouldn't extend that far.

"I've always been interested in Kryptonian lifeforms," Bruce said.  "There's something about studying the ecology of Krypton that's...very poignant, I guess.  Maybe it's that as long as someone remembers them they live on, and I don't want you to be the only person who remembers them."  He pointed at the screen, which showed a round reddish fruit.  "That looks almost like a pomegranate."

"On the outside, maybe."  Kal took the pointer away from Bruce and scrolled down.  "The inside was yellow and more firm, like a squash.  Good;  I can't stand pomegranates."

Bruce laughed briefly.  "That's a strong stance!"

Kal grinned at him.  "They're messy and fussy and take more work than they're worth for the payoff, in my experience."

"Ah," said Bruce, taking the pointer back, "Like me.  That explains my disastrous love life."

"Don't be ridiculous," Kal huffed.  "If your love life is disastrous, it's only because you choose women with more allure than common sense."

"Common sense?  Dating me would be common sense?"  Bruce sounded bemused.

"Sure.  You're smart, witty, urbane, and handsome as hell--"  "Beautiful" had been the word that actually sprang to mind, but Clark decided that might be a bit much.  "That Selina woman is an idiot for letting you get away so often.  Heck, if I weren't straight I'd date you in an instant." 

Bruce flicked him another look, his winged eyebrows slightly raised.  Yes, "beautiful" was much more appropriate, really.  "It isn't just her 'letting me get away,' Clark.  I do tend to push away the people I care about."

"You shouldn't."  He had such a nice mouth.  Not a bit soft, but so expressive.  "You really shouldn't, Bruce."  It was such a shame he usually kept it in such a grim line.

Bruce bit his lip just a little, worrying one side, and Kal fought the urge to reach out and soothe it.  "I ought to get going, Kal."  He stood up abruptly, nodding as he pulled on the cowl.

"So soon?" 

A whisper of cloak as Batman moved toward the plane bay.  "Thank you for having me."

"Will you come back up next weekend?  I'll make us a meal, we can get caught up."

Batman stopped at the bay door and stood for a while without looking back at Kal.  "I'd...that would be fine," he said as if it were dragged out of him.

Once he was gone, Kal wondered where that conversation had gone so badly wrong.  Bruce had sounded like Superman was practically forcing him to come back up.  And he had left so abruptly!  Well, at least he had agreed to come back next weekend.  Maybe he would stay longer.  They could have a long talk, just the two of them.  About Kryptonian.  He could help Bruce practice his Kryptonian.

Nahnohd shaop.  This is a plate.

Kypes ndivahv tiv ehlouju.  The stars are shining brightly.

Laosaohd och.  It is cold here.

Nahnohd rrup mzrhueiaoYou are beautiful.

: : :

The rest of the week went better.  When he was away from the Fortress and buried in his work at the Planet and the Watchtower Kal found it much easier to to think of things other than Bruce.  In fact, he had almost forgotten they were planning on meeting by the time Saturday night rolled around.  It was only when he was back at the Fortress, working on deciphering that damn pink rock, that his thoughts had turned once again to his saturnine friend.  However, once they did, he couldn't seem to pull them away again. 

Why didn't the man have a steady lover?  He might be broody, but he wasn't particularly more wedded to his work than Clark was.  In fact, since his civilian side didn't work half as hard as the Metropolis reporter, it almost evened out.  So why hadn't Diana or Dinah or Selina snapped him up years ago?  If Kal were a woman that Bruce had shown even the slightest interest in, he would by Rao not let the man get away.

When he heard the jet land, he continued to study the rock, but he realized most of his attention was on listening to the footsteps approaching.  He heard Batman come up behind him and turned to meet him.  "Hey Bruce," he said casually, waving. 

Batman tilted his head.  "What are you wearing?"

Kal brushed at the silky turquoise-blue tunic and gold-patterned pants.  "Kryptonian clothing.  I wasn't in the mood to wear the uniform and I made up some of these a few years ago from designs I found.  I don't get many chances to wear them, though."  He turned in a circle.  "You like it?"

The dark-cowled head tilted appraisingly.  "It looks good on you.  Comfortable and flattering."

"I've got a whole closet of them I've never worn.  You're welcome to wear one yourself for dinner."

Batman made a harrumphing sort of noise.  "I suppose I'd look ridiculous sitting across the table from you in this--like a bat dining with a bird of paradise.  I'll see what you've got."

Kal gestured nonchalantly.  "The wardrobe room is down that corridor, third door on the right."  He watched Bruce's lean form stalk down the hall and bent his head to his work again, his cheeks burning.  Bird of paradise.

He kept himself busy until he heard footsteps coming back down the corridor--no longer the harsh tread of boots but the sliding whisper of silk on stone.  Kept himself from turning too eagerly until he heard Bruce clear his throat behind him.  Then, and only then, he turned.

Bruce was wearing a long scarlet tunic with a high, stiff collar, trimmed with some kind of gold braid.  Under it were a pair of diaphanous pants, also scarlet.  Kal could dimly see the outline of Bruce's legs through the semi-sheer fabric.  Slippers of golden brocade completed the outfit.

He was staring.  He knew he was staring, but he couldn't help it.  "You never wear red," he said stupidly.

"Never say never," Bruce replied with a tiny, inscrutable smile.

Dinner was something of a blur to Kal.  There was wine, and there was food, but mostly there were Bruce's blue eyes across the table, and Bruce's long fingers holding the Kryptonian utensils with easy grace, and Bruce's voice like red silk and black velvet.

Dinner over, Kal sat down on a fluffy silver couch and watched Bruce as he settled next to him, closer than Kal had even hoped for, almost touching.  "I thought we might practice some Kryptonian," Kal said. 

Bruce looked at him.  "Nahnohd rrup mzrhueiao," he said, and suddenly it was the most natural and normal and wonderful thing in the world to kiss him.  To kiss him.

And be kissed back.

: : :

"So where did...all this...come from?" 

Kal kissed Bruce's throat, feeling exhausted and sticky and happier than he had in--in forever.  "Where did all what come from?"

"You weren't interested in me last month."

"Are you crazy?  I've always loved you."

Bruce made a small, almost startled sound that he turned into a cough.  "I can't speak for the amount of time you've had certain emotions for me, but you certainly didn't lust after me."

"Impossible," murmured Kal, kisses trailing lower over scars and corded muscle.

"I'm a detective, Clark.  And a playboy to boot.  I might be terrible at expressing myself, but I know what lust looks like when directed at me.  You've either been the best liar in history--which, my dear Kal, you are not--or until recently you weren't interested in sex with me."

A sudden stab of fear went through Kal, which he covered up by biting Bruce's hipbone until he squirmed.  Above him, Bruce's voice continued speaking, detached and distant.  "I know it won't last, Kal.  I want you to know that's okay.  I'm not easy to get along with, I know.  This can be just...what it is."

"What is it?"  whispered Kal, apprehension and desire and tenderness tangling in him, wanting the other man so much he could hardly bear it, but Bruce didn't answer, just shuddered and pulled him close.

: : :

When Bruce had gone--when Kal had been able to let him out of his sight again--Superman went slowly and heavily back to the unshielded pink rock.  He stared at it for a very long time, then ran some very specific tests.

Now that he knew what he was looking for, it was easy to find the subtle chemical shifts, the changes in brain electricity patterns.  He looked blankly at the mocking readouts, then turned and left the room.

He could have Bruce up here every weekend, he thought dully as he wandered the cold stone halls.  This could be their special place.  Or he could make a ring of the pink K and carry it with him.  But even as he came up with solutions he knew they were ridiculous.  He could never insult Bruce by relying on what was essentially a drug to find him desirable.  It would base their whole relationship on a pretense, make a hollow sham of something--he realized with a terrible pang--something that meant far too much to force with radiation.  Bruce would never accept it, would never forgive him if he found out later.

He found himself back in the dining hall, staring at the couch.  Crumpled scarlet fabric tangled with blue silk on the floor in front of it.

Kal summoned a robot.  "Put that pink Kryptonite back under lead shielding," he said, hearing his voice echo hollow from the walls.  "I'm done testing it."

: : :

The next day was bad.  He didn't know what to say to Bruce when they next met at the Watchtower for a meeting, didn't know how to answer the warmth in the other man's eyes other than by looking down wretchedly and avoiding conversation.

That Bruce seemed to take the rebuff with stolid resignation made it all the more agonizing.  The man deserved better, but it wasn't enough that Clark cherished and respected and--and loved him, yes.

Love wasn't always enough.

After the meeting, Superman flew back to the Fortress and tried to study.  But the history text blurred in front of his eyes as he thought about what he had lost.  The look in Bruce's eyes as it had slowly dawned on him that Kal was flirting with him, the cold slate-blue shifting to sapphire.  The tentative warmth in his voice, in his laugh, as he told Kal a story about Dick's latest misadventure.  The way his lips had parted, the strength of his thighs under Kal's hands, the sound he had made when--

Kal put down the book, his hands shaking.  "Damnit," he yelled at a passing robot, "I told you to shield the pink Kryptonite!"  The robot inclined its head politely and Kal was filled with shame for bellowing, filled with shame at how much he had been yearning to go and open the case himself, to feel that way again--

"Master," the robot said, "The Kryptonite is fully shielded and has been since you told us to do so."

Kal opened his mouth, then closed it again.  Then he went to the lab and stood for a long time in front of the tightly sealed lead box.  He put out his hand and touched it, very gently.

When he left the room, he was smiling.

: : :

Bruce Wayne was lying naked on Clark Kent's couch in Metropolis.  He looked a bit bemused, but...not unhappy.  From the kitchen, sounds of whistling and chopping noises.  When Clark returned to the living room, clad only in boxers, he was holding a wooden bowl filled with quartered red fruit.  He pushed Bruce over slightly and sat down next to him, holding out a dripping slice.

"I thought you hated pomegranate," Bruce said, keeping his hands behind his head.

Clark smiled and extracted a handful of glistening scarlet gems from the rind, popping half of them in his mouth.  The other half he started to drop into Bruce's mouth one by one, teasingly.  He licked his lips.  "It's a funny thing, really.  Maybe you've gone your whole life not really wanting something.  Never even thinking about it.  Then one day, for no good reason, you get a terrible craving for it."  He lowered his glistening hand to stroke down Bruce's body, anointing him with shining ruby.  "You try it and it's delicious."  Sweet, scarlet kisses across Bruce's collarbones, down the ridged muscles of his abdomen, licking and sucking.  "Then maybe the craving goes away.  But you've learned to like it anyway now.  All you needed was a reason to...taste."  Clark's mouth and hands were red, painting passion onto skin.  Honey-sweet carmine, tart crimson, never enough, never.

"Well," Bruce said between gasps, "I'm glad you decided to give it a try."

Clark said nothing, tasting and tasting and tasting again.