Chapter Text
"Show Batman some respect, Lantern, it was a tough mission.” Bruce watched on with interest as Superman moved from his seat in the League meeting room, after several heated exchanges with Hal in his defence, and approached the Lantern in an uncharacteristically confrontational manner. Clark was acting strangely, he had been quick to jump to Bruce’s defence when Hal had criticised him, none too politely, after reporting back to the Watchtower for debrief.
“Stay out of this Superman,“ Hal said, striding past Clark to confront Bruce.
“I’m sick of your double standards, we have to follow your plans to the letter, yet you carry on as you please.” Bruce stood unaffected as Hal continued to rant at him. It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last.
“Lantern, if you have a grievance with me, then you need to raise it formally,” Bruce replied wearily. Hal was an essential member of the League, and Bruce couldn’t deny he made a valuable contribution to the team, Bruce just wished he had a mute button and that he would stay out of his way.
“You might be happy to throw your life away on a whim.” Hal gestured angrily, taking a step closer to Bruce who remained stoic as ever as Hal ranted at him.
“Jordan,” Clark practically growled his name in warning, but Bruce didn’t bat an eyelid as Superman moved in front of him, arms folded, presenting himself as a physical barrier between him and Hal.
“This is just typical coming from you, Superman, always defending him even when you think he’s wrong yourself.” Hal jabbed his finger angrily at Clark, clearly not in the mood for backing down, and the usually diplomatic Superman only served to inflame the situation with his uncharacteristically heated defence of Bruce.
“I can deal with this, thank you, Superman,” Bruce interjected calmly, hoping to stop it from escalating even further, relieved when Superman moved out of his way, but noticeably stayed close to his side.
“Like I said, feel free to raise a complaint.” Bruce cut the Lantern short, as he turned on his heel and exited the meeting room. He had better things to get on with than listening to Hal’s ranting any longer, he’d heard it all before, and what was really concerning him was Clark’s behaviour.
Something was different about Clark, had been for several weeks now and Bruce was struggling to put his finger on what it was that had changed. He couldn't explain it, Clark hadn't said or done anything noticeably out of the ordinary until just now, the only evidence he had so far that something wasn't right. For the time being, he'd just have to keep monitoring Clark for any more changes in his behaviour.
****
"Bruce, you're being paranoid, I'm fine," Clark said, arms folded as he leaned back against the desk in the Batcave.
"Just let me run some tests, and if you get the all clear you get to tell me 'I told you so'," Bruce countered.
"Why can't you just trust me?" Clark sighed, adjusting his glasses, as he continued to try and reason with him. Citing changes in his behaviour and just a general sense that something was wrong, Bruce was now pushing to check Clark out more thoroughly, but Clark felt fine, as far as he was concerned it had been business as usual. He just needed to convince Bruce of that too.
"I do trust you, I'm just concerned." Bruce moved away from the med table in the cave, conceding defeat for the moment. "Something just seems off, Clark, I've been watching you and-"
"If something seems off, Bruce, it's because I'm fed up with you hounding me," Clark replied exasperated, as he casually rolled the sleeves of his plaid shirt up to his elbows.
"Look, I don't want to keep arguing with you," Clark said as he pushed himself up from the desk and walked over to join Bruce. "I'll make you a deal, if I feel sick, or that there's anything weird going on, I'll tell you straight away."
"The slightest thing, you tell me." Bruce agreed, though it was clear he was far from happy about it, but seemed to understand continuing to push Clark now was not going to be helpful in the long run.
"Good." Clark smiled up at Bruce. "So, I know I promised I'd help you with the Batwing, but…." Clark crowded Bruce against the workstation behind him. "I was thinking I might be able to help you with something else instead."
"Is that right?" Bruce smirked as Clark closed the distance between them. "I usually find you to be more of a hindrance than a help," he replied, allowing himself to be pushed against the metal table behind him.
"I'm more than happy to hinder you right now." Clark returned Bruce's smirk, he could feel Bruce's breath on his lips, the controlled heat behind the casual expression.
"Wouldn't be the first time."
"It won't be the last," Clark murmured, pressing himself flush against Bruce. "Batwing or Batcock? There's no contest," Clark rasped against Bruce's lips, before dropping to his knees.
****
Bruce stifled a sigh of irritation as Clark appeared in the corner of his eye for the umpteenth time that day, reading over his report for the Planet, as he leaned casually against the wall of the cave. Clark didn't even bother to look up at Bruce, thoroughly engaged in his proofreading, almost as if Bruce wasn't even there.
That wasn't the case though, over the past few days Bruce had noticed Clark following him around the Manor. It had started off subtly at first; and Bruce wouldn’t have given it much thought, if it hadn't been for the other recent changes in Clark's behaviour.
It started with Bruce spending time in other areas in and around the Manor, leaving Clark to his own devices, only for Clark to come and find him and then go back to whatever he was doing.
This had progressed from Bruce being able to spend hours away from Clark—allowing Bruce his much needed space—to Clark following him from room to room, often just hanging about like a bored teenager.
Then it escalated. Now if Bruce moved from one end of the cave to another, Clark was sure to follow, moments to minutes later, however long it took him to realise Bruce was no longer there. If Clark could see him, there was a better chance he'd keep his distance, but that wasn't guaranteed.
Bruce crossed the room to the furthest, darkest point of the cave and picked up a wrench he had no real intention of using, giving the appearance of being occupied by tinkering with some old engine parts, as he surveyed Clark.
Sure enough, two minutes later Clark appeared, still reading his report as he drifted across the room so he was opposite to Bruce for a few moments before making his way closer towards him. It was like Clark was drawn to him, and the fact Clark hadn't bothered to acknowledge him confirmed Bruce's suspicions that this was not a conscious decision to follow him around.
"You don't even know you're doing it, do you?" Bruce said finally, releasing the sigh of frustration that had welled up within him.
"Doing what?" Clark asked, sounding genuinely perplexed as he looked up from the report, looking around him and checking himself over, obviously trying to figure out what Bruce was talking about.
"Following me."
"I'm not following you, you haven't gone anywhere."
“You’ve been following me around the cave like a lost puppy all day, Clark.” Bruce casually twirled the wrench in his hand, cutting in as Clark opened his mouth to protest.
“Wherever I’m doing, whenever I move, it’s only a few minutes before you’re in my vicinity again.”
“Since when did you have a problem with that?” Clark shot back.
“When it’s all the time. When it’s abnormal behaviour.”
“Oh, not this again, Bruce.” Clark groaned, his hands falling to his sides, almost dropping his papers on the ground.
“Just then, when I was at the computer, you appeared, leaning against the wall reading your report.”
“Yes, and?” Clark now folded his arms, thoroughly unimpressed, slightly crumpling the report as he did so.
“And now,” Bruce said, as he regarded Clark’s demeanour. ”Now you’re standing there with an attitude-”
“Yep.”
Bruce narrowed his eyes at Clark’s curt response, placing the wrench back on the bench as he turned to face Clark properly. “I moved over here to see what would happen, and here you are. Again.”
“World's Greatest Detective, indeed,” Clark replied sarcastically, unfolding his arms as he stalked towards Bruce. “It's not because of some big conspiracy, but because I was gonna ask you if I worded this right.” Clark pointed indignantly at the text on the paper that he held up in front of Bruce’s face. “But don’t worry, I’ll ask Alfred instead.” Clark readjusted his glasses, taking a deep breath as he calmed. “This needs to stop, Bruce, or I’m going back to Metropolis.”
“Clark, wait.” Bruce panicked, reached out and took hold of Clark’s wrist as he turned away, but Clark effortlessly shrugged him off and walked towards the exit. Bruce couldn’t afford for Clark to leave, where he wouldn't be able to monitor him as closely. He couldn’t risk losing Clark, full stop, not after all they’d been through.
Clark paused and Bruce took the opportunity to catch up to him across the cave. “I’m sorry—”
“You keep saying that, but you keep doing it.” Clark’s eyes were clouded with hurt and frustration as he looked back at Bruce. “You know, it’s not nice having someone tell you there’s something wrong with you all the time,” Clark said plainly, but Bruce didn’t miss the twinge of hurt in his voice.
“You’re a private man, Bruce, and I know you need your space. So if this is too much for you, I understand. I’ll happily move back into my apartment full time again. I don’t want to risk losing our relationship.”
For a man who could comfortably keep his composure in the most trying of circumstances, Bruce felt this was the closest he’d come to tearing his hair out.
“I don’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, but I need you to listen to me.” Bruce took hold of Clark’s hand, willing him to take him seriously even for a second.
“I want to test something.” Bruce’s grip tightened uselessly on Clark’s hand as he rolled his eyes. “Not like that— Just humour me ok?”
Clark closed his eyes with a sigh. “What?”
“I’m going to leave you here, and I’m going upstairs, I want to see how long it takes before you come and find me. I know you’re going to try your hardest to prove me wrong and that’s fine, because I need to know how you feel.”
“Ok, sure.” Bruce was taken aback at Clark’s apparent sudden willingness to cooperate. “But only because this is dumb as heck and somehow despite everything, the weirdest thing you’ve made me do.”
Clark’s exasperation caused Bruce to break out into a small smile, it warmed him that Clark was willing to put up with him despite everything.
“I don’t want you to go anywhere,” he said suddenly, his grip tightening further on Clark’s hand, pulling him closer.
“I get the picture, Bruce,” Clark huffed.
“I don’t mean that. I mean, I don’t want you to go back to Metropolis," Bruce clarified. "Stay here at the Manor.” The with me went unsaid, but Bruce was sure it was still understood as Clark visibly softened and smiled warmly back at Bruce, twisting his hand in Bruce's so their fingers now intertwined.
“I don’t think I could leave you now if I tried,” Clark said, leaning in to kiss Bruce, their kiss deepening as he walked Bruce backwards into the cool metal of the shelf behind him. "For better or for worse, definitely worse," Clark teased, breaking the kiss and allowing Bruce to breathe.
"You're trying to distract me," Bruce husked, kissing Clark again.
"Is it working?" Clark asked, nuzzling below Bruce's ear.
"Don't think you're getting out of this." Bruce grabbed Clark by the front of his shirt, tugging to him closer. Clark Kent would forever be his downfall, just a few seconds of making out and he was already hard and willing to forget about tests and behaviour to indulge him.
"We're just making up," Clark murmured against his neck.
"Is that right?" Bruce groaned as Clark pressed his knee between Bruce's thighs, which Bruce readily ground against, he could feel precum beading at the top of his cock already as Clark continued to kiss along his throat.
"Seems right to me, I—" Clark pulled back suddenly with a frown, and cocked his head a little to the left, not unlike the way a dog tilts its head in confusion.
"What is it?" Bruce asked when Clark straightened up, appearing somehow confused and concerned at the same time.
"Nothing. I thought I heard something, that's all."
"You're a bad liar, Clark Kent," Bruce said, clearly unconvinced. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, but uh, maybe we should get on and do that test you were talking about." Clark pulled away from Bruce, readjusting his glasses as he put some distance between them. Well if there was proof that something was wrong that was it right there, Clark finally opting to carry out one of Bruce's tests instead of getting laid? Bruce couldn't deny he was frustrated in more ways than one, but alright, if that's what Clark wanted, he wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to prove his theory.
"Alright, if that's what you want, stay here." Bruce straightened himself out as best he could.
"Thank you." He gave Clark's hand a gentle squeeze as he passed him and made his way out of the cave.
Bruce sat in the kitchen while Alfred chopped and prepared vegetables, nursing his coffee as he occupied himself on his phone, posting tweets, and liking pictures of gorgeous women on instagram in a bid to keep his mind off of Clark down in the cave. This hollow activity kept up the Brucie Wayne persona, but was also something he could drop easily if Clark needed him.
Alfred had asked what was going on, but he hadn’t given much away, only that he was concerned about Clark and he was investigating.
Bruce arched his brow in surprise when almost an hour later a rather dejected looking Clark entered the kitchen.
“I’m surprised it took you so long… Are you alright?” Clark didn’t look right, something was troubling him, Bruce was sure of it.
“Yeah, I just got really bored down there by myself.” Clark sat down next to Bruce and seemed to immediately relax a little.
“I tried to concentrate on my emails, but I was so bored I couldn’t focus.”
“Did you feel anything unusual?”
“No, not really. Well-”
“What?”
“I don’t want you to read too much into this.”
“Clark.”
Clark sighed loudly, stealing a sip of coffee from Bruce’s mug as he started to explain. “The only thing was—This is so stupid—I started to feel, I dunno, unsettled? I don’t know how to explain it.” Clark took a longer drink of Bruce’s coffee.
“It was like I missed you, which isn’t unusual, I miss you all the time when we’re not together, and I kept telling myself, this is stupid he’s just upstairs but I-” Clark sighed again, softer this time. “I dunno it was weird and now I don’t know if I’m just overthinking things because you mentioned earlier I’d followed you around and now I’m not sure.”
“It’s ok, Clark. Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m feeling a little tired, can I just sit here with you?” Clark shifted against Bruce’s side so he could lean against him and rest his head against Bruce's shoulder, his voice was muffled into Bruce's shoulder.
“Sure, I’m just updating the socials,” Bruce reassured, as he flicked absently through the pages on his phone. He slid his arm around Clark’s shoulder, hand stroking up and down Clark's arm soothingly, while he tried to process and piece together the information Clark had given him.
****
“You said something was wrong,” Bruce said as he entered the bedroom to find Clark rapidly pacing backwards and forwards across the room, obviously agitated. The moment Clark registered his presence, he advanced on him and Bruce instinctively stepped back out of his immediate reach.
“Bruce,” Clark said, there was obvious relief in his voice, even though the agitation remained. “I’m so horny, I didn’t know what to do but now you’re here—” Clark closed in on him again, but once again he avoided Clark, still trying to assess the situation.
“Is that it? You’re horny, could you have taken care of this yourself, instead of calling me out of a meeting?”
“I tried that, it didn’t work,” Clark said, visibly distraught when Bruce put his hand on Clark’s chest keeping him at bay. “I told you, something’s wrong, this is not normal-—” Clark released a shuddering breath as he fought to control himself. “I need to fuck.”
Suddenly Clark closed in on him and Bruce didn’t have strength or inclination to stop him. The rawness in Clark’s voice that needed to fuck, had Bruce immediately aroused despite himself.
"I can't keep away from you when I'm like this. When you smell like that…" Clark sniffed once and closed his eyes with a strained noise.
"You can smell my arousal?" A statement more than a question, his nostrils flaring with his own arousal at Clark’s confirmation. This should be weird, was a little weird, but heat surged through Bruce nonetheless as Clark pressed himself closer, walking him backwards to the bed.
"You can smell how hard I am for you, how much I want you?" A rhetorical question, but the strange noise Clark made confirmed what he wanted to know, and a new spark of heat ignited within Bruce's core.
"I can still smell the underlying scent from earlier, but this fresh arousal is so strong, it's almost overwhelming. I—" Clark's voice was ragged, his pupils blown with lust, and Bruce noticed the slight dampness of his forehead with interest despite himself.
"Clark, just hold on a second, I need to know what’s happening,” Bruce said, putting his hand on Clark’s shoulder to keep him at bay while he analysed the situation, his concern growing when he noticed his flushed face. “Are you sick?”
"No! I just—I want more…God, I can smell you, Bruce," he said, lust and desperation clear in his voice.
Clark groaned and dropped to his knees in front of Bruce, immediately pressing his face into Bruce’s crotch, and if it wasn’t for his overriding concern for Clark, he probably would have been lost right then and there.
It was getting to be too much, the change in Clark's behaviour had been subtle at first, Clark himself hadn't noticed any change in his demeanour, dismissing Bruce’s concerns as fussing and paranoia, but now there was no doubt for either of them that something had indeed affected Clark, and if it wasn't taking all of Bruce's willpower not to give in to the horny Kryptonian, he would have taken great pleasure telling Clark I told you so.
"Have you ever experienced anything like this before?"
He needed to continue monitoring him, but he couldn't when Clark was like this, maybe the best thing for now would be to let Clark have what he needed, give him some relief so they could both work on figuring out the cause for his abnormal behaviour.
It may seem blindingly obvious, but was Clark just unnaturally horny? Maybe it was a Kryptonian trait, if so, it was quite possible that Clark wasn't aware. Bruce had initially been concerned about taking advantage of Clark in his current state, but it appeared that Clark was fully aware of what he was feeling and what he wanted.
"No." Clark’s hands settled on his hips, pushing him down to sit on the bed in front of him. "I've never felt like this before." Clark’s hips seemed to jerk forward of their own accord.
“Clark, I’m going to—Fuck,” Bruce gasped raggedly as Clark pressed his face firmly into Bruce’s crotch again, mouthing at this cock through his slacks.
Bruce began unbuttoning his shirt, and shrugging off his waistcoat, there was a ripping sound and looked down to see his thousand dollar slacks torn at the crotch, hissing as Clark lapped at the damp patch on his boxers, making it wetter still.
"What do you need, Clark?" Bruce asked as evenly as he could manage, while Clark looked up at with a wild mix of lust and adoration.
"Just you," Clark said, suddenly pushing up from the floor to lock Bruce in a messy kiss, all lips and teeth. Bruce moaned into the kiss and pulled Clark closer to him, missing the wet heat of Clark's mouth worshipping his cock, while a still fully clothed Clark clambered up to meet him.
“Lie back.” Clark gestured backwards to the bed, pressing gently on Bruce’s chest encouraging him to comply. Bruce simply nodded his consent, barely getting the chance to finally remove his shirt and toss it across the room, as Clark clambered over him.
"Do you know how sexy you are?" Clark surged forward burying his face in the crook of Bruce's neck, pressing the full weight of his body against Bruce, “Your face, your body, your strength, your intelligence, all of it—” Clark groaned as he rocked his hips against Bruce’s thigh.
Bruce didn’t know, not really. It still felt foreign to him, to hear those things, not from some vacuous hanger on, but someone that truly cared for him wanted to be with him, loved him. To hear it from Clark. He’d pinch himself to check he was awake if he didn’t have the full weight of a horny Kryptonian pushing him into the bed.
“Can I?” Clark asked, carefully nibbling at Bruce’s ear lobe, his hot breath ghosting across his neck.
“Please,” Bruce gritted, his breath catching at his throat as a blast of cool air swept across the lower half of his body and he caught sight of fragments of his pants scattering across the room out the corner of his eye, the tell tale signs of super speed.
Bruce moaned deep in his throat, the frustration was unbearable, as strong, slick fingers probed impatiently as his entrance. He tried to thrust into the mattress as Clark prepped him, fingers twisting into the sheets as Clark finally pushed inside him.
"Bruce." Clark wasted no time as he began earnestly fucking Bruce, and fucking it was, Clark pounded into him relentlessly his mind set on one thing and one thing only.
Bruce groaned as Clark struck at his prostate repeatedly, leaving Bruce to shift his weight so as to wrap his hand around his own cock. Clark was far too gone rutting into his ass to think about anything else.
"I can't hold back, B."
Bruce could feel the fire coiling in his belly, one hand twisting further in the sheets, holding on for dear life as Clark ploughed into him while he jacked himself off. He'd be ordering a new bed at this rate.
"I love the way you smell." Clark grunted, biting down at the base of Bruce's neck as he drove his hips forward in one last thrust.
"Shit, Clark." Bruce tensed, feeling Clark's teeth clamp down at the back of his neck, the combination of pain and pleasure tipping him over the edge, his cum releasing in thick spurts.
Bruce groaned as Clark’s release pulsed into him, he could feel Clark trembling as he pulled out and laid down beside him. Gingerly, Bruce turned onto his side, moving up next to Clark, he was still deeply concerned about him. He held Clark close, continuing to soothe him, as he recovered.
"Clark, how are you feeling?" Bruce asked finally as Clark began to stir in his arms.
"Tired."
"I'm not surprised. Here, let's get you cleaned up." Bruce gently manoeuvred Clark off of him onto the bed and made his way to the bathroom, removing his own torn slacks as he did so. Returning moments later with a couple of towels.
"Hey, B?"
Bruce grunted in response as he cleaned Clark down with the warm damp towel, and then carefully dried him off with the other.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"I think you were right and I didn't listen to you."
"Don't worry about that now, the main thing is you're alright. You had me concerned there for a moment." Bruce threw the towels on the floor and crawled up next to Clark, running his fingers delicately over his skin. Still hot, though cooler than before. Could this be some sort of virus?
"I'm sorry about that too," Clark said, gesturing to the shredded clothes strewn about the room.
"It's nothing. Budge over," Bruce said, sliding into bed next to Clark.
Clark pressed a kiss just below Bruce's ear, before moving to spoon him from behind. Bruce said nothing, but held Clark's arm tight to his chest as they drifted off to sleep.