Confused Actions

Takes place after "Twilight" and references "A Savage Time."

Clark settled into his apartment looking around to familiarize himself with his surroundings. He hated Darkseid with every ounce of his being, but he doubted that Brainiac’s destruction rid the universe of that evil force. It scared him how much he hated Darkseid, but he had reason. None of the other members really understood that, least of all Bruce. Clark tried to push that aside.

An unexpected knock at the front door shook him from the path his thoughts were taking. He opened the door, shocked. Bruce Wayne was there, minus cape and cowl, but still managing to be dark and mysterious in black slacks and a black cashmere sweater.

“Bruce?”

Bruce Wayne regarded the shocked expression of Clark’s face with mild amusement. “May I come in?”

Clark recovered and stepped aside and motioned for Bruce to enter. He felt distinctly under-dressed in shorts and a cut-off t-shirt. “Sorry. Not to be rude but what are you doing here?”

Bruce moved into the high-rise apartment, looking around before turning to face Clark. “Interesting choice of words, Clark. Seems to me that rude as become your middle name of late.”

“I beg your pardon?” Clark stared at Bruce incredulously, feeling his temper come roaring back. “I was right about Darkseid and you know it!”

“That is not what I was referring to. You and the others come back from a Temporal disturbance and you are suddenly my best friend. Three days later I had to ask you five times before you responded to me.” Bruce walked right into Clark’s personal space and pushed a finger into his chest. “Yes, you were correct about Darkseid being up to something, but that does not give you the right to destroy yourself in an attempt at revenge. You are better than that.”

Clark backed up and walked away. His rage was dissipating, but he was confused. “I fail to see how I was rude.”

Bruce laughed mockingly. “For someone who is supposed to be so damned intelligent you certainly are an idiot sometimes.” Bruce moved and sat down on a couch.

Clark walked into the kitchen and pulled out two waters. He marched into the living room and tossed one to Bruce as he dropped into a chair opposite the sofa. “You know, insulting the host is not exactly good manners either, Bruce.”

Bruce smirked and took a sip of his water. “Thank you. The truth is, I am sick of your mood swings. One day you want to be all buddy-buddy and the next you’re an Ice Prince.”

Clark could not stop his laugh. “YOU giving ME a lecture on MOODINESS?! Stop the presses folks, because NO ONE is moodier than the Prince of Gotham.”

“I’m not the poster boy for the Boy Scouts.” Bruce scowled back. Clark jumped out of his chair and paced. “Notice that is no longer the case, thanks to Darkseid. I am as much feared as I am respected now. I don’t even visit my parents much anymore. I sometimes wonder if Clark should cease to exist.”

Bruce laughed. “Stop with the sob stories. I know you have cut yourself off from most of your human friends. Clark Kent no longer works for the Daily Planet, supposed to be off writing the next Great American Novel.” Bruce stood and got in Clark’s face again. “Shit happens, Kal-El, get over it.”

Temper flaring again, Clark glared back at Bruce. “You are one to talk, Mr. 'I’m Not a People Person’ Somehow you are in EVERYONE’S business. Who asked you?”

Bruce looked into the brilliant blue eyes and smiled. “You.”

Clark stopped in his tracks. “What?”

Moving back to his seat, Bruce relaxed and smiled at the Man of Steel. “We were never friends before, but look at your recent behavior. I have NEVER had as many hugs recently as I have received of late from you.”He watched as Clark began to drift off into his memory. “You come and chat with me about little stuff, but you’ve been moody as hell, too. Tell me, Clark, what should I call it?”

Clark ran through the past few weeks. He had hugged Bruce fiercely after the League had returned through time. He'd sought out his company repeatedly. He talked to him about his childhood on the farm, reporting, everything. He did not talk to the others much. Diana and he got along well enough; J’Onn and Hawkgirl had become great friends with each other and he liked them, too. He avoided the Flash as much as possible. He liked GL, but he was too serious for him.

‘But Bruce corners the market on serious, and you still seek him out.’ Clark moved to his chair and slumped, still lost in thought. He worried about Bruce the most out of all of them. ‘He has no powers, he is the most vulnerable.’ He looked up and saw that amused smirk and he wanted to knock it off the man. ‘So damn infuriating, always thinking he is right!’

“Bruce, you really have a way of pissing me off.”

Bruce shrugged. “Comes with being one step ahead of everyone else. I’ll see you tomorrow. Just thought I’d stop by to make sure you hadn’t gone off the reservation again.”

“I thought you came to talk about my behavior of late?”

“We did. Good night, Clark.” Bruce walked out leaving the other man lost in thought.

Clark got up and paced, still thinking about his ‘not’ talk with Bruce. “The hell just happened?’


Clark crossed the Watchtower with trepidation. It had taken almost an hour, but he understood what Bruce had been hinting at. Then it had taken him another hour to stop blushing and feeling a fool. He scanned the control room and saw that Bruce was alone. Taking a deep breath he walked in.

“Hi, Bruce.”

Not bothering to look up, Bruce responded, “Hello, Clark.”

He walked up to the console and stopped next to Bruce. “I thought about what you said last night. I’m sorry.”

Bruce looked up, puzzled. “For what?”

“I didn’t realize I was flirting with you.” Clark cursed that he blushed as he said that.

Bruce, however, did not notice as he was looking at the console again. “What are you going to do about it?”

Clark froze. “Do about it? Do about what?”

Bruce stood up and looked the other man in the eye. “I don’t like being toyed with, Kal-El.” He sat back down leaving Clark standing there sputtering.

“I apologized! What do you want?”

Bruce ignored him and went back to work. Clark stared at him for a few minutes before storming off. Bruce sighed after he knew he was alone. “Idiot!”

Clark paced the landing bay, trying not to break anything! “I swear that man makes me so mad!” He stopped and stared up at the control room and started laughing. He felt foolish for being slow on the uptake. He went back up there and walked up to Bruce and placed a hand gently on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry for being dense. I have a reputation for being clueless sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

Clark heard the smirk in his voice loud and clear. “You make me crazy, you know that?”

“I still have not received an answer to my question.”

Clark scowled and hauled a temporarily astonished Bruce to his feet. The cowled crusader didn't protest, though, when Clark captured his mouth for a deep kiss that made up for in passion what it lacked in finesse. A reciprocal amount of heat flowed from Bruce into Clark and the kiss went on and on as Clark dragged the Dark Knight down to the dorm levels. He entered the room reserved for him and with blinding speed divested Bruce of his trademark suit. A second later, his own blue and red lay on top of the bat's black, and the naked heroes were a tangle on the bed.

“From clueless to 'let’s fuck' in sixty seconds - new movie title?”

'How can he be droll at a time like this,' Clark managed to wonder as he began a concerted effort to wipe the smirk off Bruce's handsome face. “Shut up, Bruce," he growled as he began to lick and kiss the hard body beneath his -- the jaw sculpted of granite; the throat corded like steel; shoulders nearly as broad as Clark's own; deep chest that was beginning to quake with short, panting breaths. Clark couldn't get enough. He worked his way lower until he was licking Bruce's hard cock. Clark thought he heard moan rumbling in Bruce's throat, and smiled in triumph at finally having pierced the Bat's droll facade.

His triumph was shortlived. With absolutely no way of determining how it happened, Clark suddenly found himself on his back, legs in the air, with Bruce about to fuck him.

“What?”

“If you have to ask, then it has been too long,” Bruce commented dryly as he drove his cock deep into Clark’s ass.

Clark lost all thought as he opened himself to Bruce’s invasion. “When did I lose control?” he managed to murmur.

“Who said you ever had it?” Bruce bit Clark’s collar bone, with driving his cock deep into the alien.

Clark could not stop his moans. ‘Been so long forgot…’ His mind drifted to Metropolis University and a baseball player who was the last to do this to him. “Oh, FUCK!”

“That is the idea.” Bruce continued his smooth, even strokes but dropped a hand to caress Clark’s dick. He pumped every few moments, but refused to establish a steady rhythm. He wanted Clark to come on his timetable.

Clark wanted more. Bruce’s hand was teasing his cockhead, but not enough to send him to the edge. Shifting ever so slightly, he screamed as the angle changed and Bruce was now hitting his sweet-spot with every up and down stroke.

Keeping his composure was getting harder. Bruce saw that Clark was fully enjoying this fuck. Bruce increased the tempo and allowed his hand to follow the same as well.

Clark bucked his hips into Bruce’s strong hand and tried to match the trusts in his ass. He held back as long as he could, but finally Clark came with a yell. White heat faded quickly to blackness, as though someone had flicked off a lightswitch. When his vision cleared he saw Bruce dressed again, smirking down at him as he tugged at the gauntlet of his glove.

“Next time, I expect dinner or something. Oh and Clark - falling asleep is very rude," he chided lightly, then departed in a flourish of rustling cape.

Clark leaned back in bed, trying to get some thoughts in order. “I hate that man sometimes.

 


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