B&H part 45
4/6/06 12:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxy"It's not that I can't stop, it's that I won't stop..."
I'm going to keep going until it explodes or something. There's nothing else to do. There's a point ot all this, I promise.
Previous Parts are here, screaming with me, only I'm not naked. Thanks, Parts. *shudder*
They were in Switzerland. The little hotel room was no bigger than a closet, but on the plus side, it managed to be bright, cheerful, cool even in the heat of the day, and Clark welcomed the sunlight that flooded it’s pocket sized balcony. When he wasn’t soaking up what sun he could, he slept, curled in the only bed. Clark slept deep; his dreams were dark, comfortless.
Night after night he woke with parts of Bruce draped over his legs, his shoulders. Some nights he’d wake with Bruce pressed into his back, little whimpers threaded through the breathy snores let him know that Bruce was no happier in his sleep than awake.
Sometimes, he woke up hard, a breath away from orgasm and trying to chase images that whirled away as soon as he opened his eyes.
Mostly, he woke exhausted, with the feeling of having walked across huge bleak gray landscapes, always only one step behind some nameless hulking thing.
One night he woke, rising from the deep well of sleep with a groan that vibrated in his chest, and even with the press of Bruce against him, he felt lost in the dark, alone. He listened to Bruce breathe, trying to soothe himself with a sound as familiar as his own breath.
Slowly he relaxed back into a doze, drifting in and out on the edge of awakening. He felt as much as heard the sound of Bruce’s steady deep thrum change to a hitch of breath that whistled against his ear, sharp, shallow breaths. He felt a growing hardness pressed against him, and breath exploding against his ear in startled bursts. Clark could feel Bruce’s thighs quiver with the strain of holding motionless, and suddenly a hot quick burst of air flowed over the back of Clark’s neck. The smallest of groans drifted on the edge of his hearing, and for a brief moment he was aware of a flood of heat against him.
Bruce relaxed at once, all over, with a tiny sound of despair and rolled as far as he could from him.
Clark imagined Bruce didn’t know he was awake and he was afraid to move, afraid to let Bruce know he was awake. He stared into the dark until his dick stopped throbbing and he could finally sleep again.
*****
Thailand, Bruce promised Clark, would be their last stop before going back home. He promised, they’d be back in Metropolis in less than a month. He asked Clark to be patient and Clark struggled to be what Bruce wanted.
Bruce worked hard at the rickety table shoved against one corner of the room; he worked like a man possessed and in a way he was--he worked on the design for a suit he’d seen in a dream. It had come out of the darkness, blackness swirling from it like smoke, thickening, coalescing into flights and flights of bats and an eyeless mask had measured him, examined and weighed him…he’d woken, sweat damp, heart racing and with the certainty it was a message. He knew the direction now.
He worked all hours of the day and night, and Clark wandered farther and father away, while Bruce told himself that he was completely safe. Bruce barely noticed that he was gone for days sometimes, or that Clark was nearly a shadow when he was home. He barely noticed that one month turned to one more, and one more….
On a night the same as ten or twenty or forty that had passed unnoticed, he lay twisted on his side, waiting for sleep in the damp narrow bed. Humid air filled his lungs, as usual ideas and problems designed to lull him into sleep filled his head. And not thinking about Clark lying next to him had long since turned into habit.
“Notice me.”
Two words, and they exploded the world Bruce managed to construct, bit by painful bit, to protect himself against Clark. He was pulled around to face him, jerked away from the hot fan of breath over his mouth. “I—I—“ he’d been hiding from it, digging himself deeper and deeper to do so and it still found him. Now, it was going to crush him...Bruce shivered.
Clark wrapped Bruce’s hand in his, so big, warm--he pressed it against his heaving chest and said again. “Please. Notice me.”
Bruce shuddered so hard the ancient bed creaked. He felt like all his will was gone, all his ability to reason. He felt like he was some other person. Someone else slid downwards, not him--curling his body around Clark, touching everything. Down until he came to rest with his mouth pressed against the bulge in Clark’s cotton boxers.
Tears squeezed out from under his lashes and he kissed and sucked at the rapidly dampening material that covered the thrashing hardness, listened to the groans that floated in the air above him. His thumbs framed his navel and his fingers fanned over the swell of muscle. He sighed, breathed in the scent of Clark, touched more skin as he peeled down the boxers, the soaking wet boxers. His lips and tongue teased the hair that trailed down to the nest around Clark’s dick. He laid his cheek against the wet hard flesh and sobbed, heard it echoed. He sucked Clark’s dick into his mouth and tears ran steadily.
He loved it all, too much, the weight and velvety smoothness on his tongue. The way the head slid across the roof of his mouth. When it nudged against the back of his throat he was desperate to feel more...and Clark’s hands flew up to wrap around his head, so tight, and pulled him closer.
It was the most perfect moment of his life.
Clark jerked against the wet sheets and cried out, Bruce cried and sucked him off, tears ran steadily as Clark held his head and fucked his mouth, crying out in pleasure or pain, or both…Bruce felt orgasm like a flash fire, burning him from the inside out until there was nothing left, leaving him shaking and moaning around the straining dick trapped in his mouth.
Clark howled when he came—filled Bruce’s mouth and pulled away, spurt the last of it on Bruce’s throat, his fist tight in Bruce’s hair as he slid his dick around in the hot, wet fluid.
As soon As Clark let go, Bruce rolled out of the narrow bed and dropped on the floor. He pulled himself into a ball, and laid there the rest of the night, ignoring Clark’s soft sobs.
*******
After that night—Clark refused to be pushed to the sidelines. He forced himself into every aspect of Bruce’s life, forced him to include him in his plan, change the focus from that of a lone man driven by the desire for vengeance to a team working to accomplish the goal. Bruce argued that what Clark wanted would twist his life out of shape and Clark laughed.
“How can wanting to be part of this ruin my life more than you already have? Don’t you get it? You already made sure I can never have even an imitation of a normal life. “
“I know. I know what I did. Every day I regret it…”
Clark made an impatient, dismissive gesture, and went on. “Fuck that. A normal life was never in the cards for me, anyway. How could it be? And at least this way, there’s a reason for me to exist. I can use this—this freakishness to lay our parents to rest. And then…have you thought about what comes after, Bruce?”
Bruce shrugged. “I didn’t plan on living that long.”
Clark looked at him and snorted, almost fondly. “Asshole. Listen…I have some ideas….”
I'm going to keep going until it explodes or something. There's nothing else to do. There's a point ot all this, I promise.
Previous Parts are here, screaming with me, only I'm not naked. Thanks, Parts. *shudder*
They were in Switzerland. The little hotel room was no bigger than a closet, but on the plus side, it managed to be bright, cheerful, cool even in the heat of the day, and Clark welcomed the sunlight that flooded it’s pocket sized balcony. When he wasn’t soaking up what sun he could, he slept, curled in the only bed. Clark slept deep; his dreams were dark, comfortless.
Night after night he woke with parts of Bruce draped over his legs, his shoulders. Some nights he’d wake with Bruce pressed into his back, little whimpers threaded through the breathy snores let him know that Bruce was no happier in his sleep than awake.
Sometimes, he woke up hard, a breath away from orgasm and trying to chase images that whirled away as soon as he opened his eyes.
Mostly, he woke exhausted, with the feeling of having walked across huge bleak gray landscapes, always only one step behind some nameless hulking thing.
One night he woke, rising from the deep well of sleep with a groan that vibrated in his chest, and even with the press of Bruce against him, he felt lost in the dark, alone. He listened to Bruce breathe, trying to soothe himself with a sound as familiar as his own breath.
Slowly he relaxed back into a doze, drifting in and out on the edge of awakening. He felt as much as heard the sound of Bruce’s steady deep thrum change to a hitch of breath that whistled against his ear, sharp, shallow breaths. He felt a growing hardness pressed against him, and breath exploding against his ear in startled bursts. Clark could feel Bruce’s thighs quiver with the strain of holding motionless, and suddenly a hot quick burst of air flowed over the back of Clark’s neck. The smallest of groans drifted on the edge of his hearing, and for a brief moment he was aware of a flood of heat against him.
Bruce relaxed at once, all over, with a tiny sound of despair and rolled as far as he could from him.
Clark imagined Bruce didn’t know he was awake and he was afraid to move, afraid to let Bruce know he was awake. He stared into the dark until his dick stopped throbbing and he could finally sleep again.
*****
Thailand, Bruce promised Clark, would be their last stop before going back home. He promised, they’d be back in Metropolis in less than a month. He asked Clark to be patient and Clark struggled to be what Bruce wanted.
Bruce worked hard at the rickety table shoved against one corner of the room; he worked like a man possessed and in a way he was--he worked on the design for a suit he’d seen in a dream. It had come out of the darkness, blackness swirling from it like smoke, thickening, coalescing into flights and flights of bats and an eyeless mask had measured him, examined and weighed him…he’d woken, sweat damp, heart racing and with the certainty it was a message. He knew the direction now.
He worked all hours of the day and night, and Clark wandered farther and father away, while Bruce told himself that he was completely safe. Bruce barely noticed that he was gone for days sometimes, or that Clark was nearly a shadow when he was home. He barely noticed that one month turned to one more, and one more….
On a night the same as ten or twenty or forty that had passed unnoticed, he lay twisted on his side, waiting for sleep in the damp narrow bed. Humid air filled his lungs, as usual ideas and problems designed to lull him into sleep filled his head. And not thinking about Clark lying next to him had long since turned into habit.
“Notice me.”
Two words, and they exploded the world Bruce managed to construct, bit by painful bit, to protect himself against Clark. He was pulled around to face him, jerked away from the hot fan of breath over his mouth. “I—I—“ he’d been hiding from it, digging himself deeper and deeper to do so and it still found him. Now, it was going to crush him...Bruce shivered.
Clark wrapped Bruce’s hand in his, so big, warm--he pressed it against his heaving chest and said again. “Please. Notice me.”
Bruce shuddered so hard the ancient bed creaked. He felt like all his will was gone, all his ability to reason. He felt like he was some other person. Someone else slid downwards, not him--curling his body around Clark, touching everything. Down until he came to rest with his mouth pressed against the bulge in Clark’s cotton boxers.
Tears squeezed out from under his lashes and he kissed and sucked at the rapidly dampening material that covered the thrashing hardness, listened to the groans that floated in the air above him. His thumbs framed his navel and his fingers fanned over the swell of muscle. He sighed, breathed in the scent of Clark, touched more skin as he peeled down the boxers, the soaking wet boxers. His lips and tongue teased the hair that trailed down to the nest around Clark’s dick. He laid his cheek against the wet hard flesh and sobbed, heard it echoed. He sucked Clark’s dick into his mouth and tears ran steadily.
He loved it all, too much, the weight and velvety smoothness on his tongue. The way the head slid across the roof of his mouth. When it nudged against the back of his throat he was desperate to feel more...and Clark’s hands flew up to wrap around his head, so tight, and pulled him closer.
It was the most perfect moment of his life.
Clark jerked against the wet sheets and cried out, Bruce cried and sucked him off, tears ran steadily as Clark held his head and fucked his mouth, crying out in pleasure or pain, or both…Bruce felt orgasm like a flash fire, burning him from the inside out until there was nothing left, leaving him shaking and moaning around the straining dick trapped in his mouth.
Clark howled when he came—filled Bruce’s mouth and pulled away, spurt the last of it on Bruce’s throat, his fist tight in Bruce’s hair as he slid his dick around in the hot, wet fluid.
As soon As Clark let go, Bruce rolled out of the narrow bed and dropped on the floor. He pulled himself into a ball, and laid there the rest of the night, ignoring Clark’s soft sobs.
*******
After that night—Clark refused to be pushed to the sidelines. He forced himself into every aspect of Bruce’s life, forced him to include him in his plan, change the focus from that of a lone man driven by the desire for vengeance to a team working to accomplish the goal. Bruce argued that what Clark wanted would twist his life out of shape and Clark laughed.
“How can wanting to be part of this ruin my life more than you already have? Don’t you get it? You already made sure I can never have even an imitation of a normal life. “
“I know. I know what I did. Every day I regret it…”
Clark made an impatient, dismissive gesture, and went on. “Fuck that. A normal life was never in the cards for me, anyway. How could it be? And at least this way, there’s a reason for me to exist. I can use this—this freakishness to lay our parents to rest. And then…have you thought about what comes after, Bruce?”
Bruce shrugged. “I didn’t plan on living that long.”
Clark looked at him and snorted, almost fondly. “Asshole. Listen…I have some ideas….”
Tags:
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
4/6/06 04:21 am (UTC)Just yes. I love the build up and intensity, then the moments when it all explodes. Gez, it felt like an explosion- of emotion no less. And I love how it strenghtens Clark to final make his move and force Bruce to listen to him.
Just yes...the last lines are perfect. :D
(no subject)
4/6/06 05:30 am (UTC)As hard as it was to get to this point, it's a wonderful pleasure to know it worked for you.
(no subject)
4/6/06 04:43 am (UTC)(no subject)
4/6/06 05:31 am (UTC)More? Whoot!
4/6/06 05:03 am (UTC)Where the hell is Lex? And what is Clark thinking about this. I'm still a complete sucker for poor Clark in this. He's pretty much got my unshakably in his corner.
Re: More? Whoot!
4/6/06 05:28 am (UTC)Lex is coming up, in fact, part of my problem with all this was that Lex and his reaction was in my head the whole time. I thought about mixing Lex and Clark and Bruce's stories together, but changed my mind.
And it really is Clark's story, I think. I feel that right now, he's just reacting, trying to survive and trying hard to understand Bruce.
I think I managed to fake the porn stuff pretty good. *g*
(no subject)
4/6/06 06:27 am (UTC)Oh my, Clark took a stand, good for him!
*pouts* I still miss my Lex, he's been gone too long again.
:D
(no subject)
4/6/06 06:57 am (UTC)See, I take care of you!
(no subject)
4/6/06 06:32 am (UTC)I couldn't believe it when I went back to find the last B&H that I'd read and it was in the 30's. Acck. They're all so intense, but this one... yay the porn is on it's way back in.
I'm still in my torture Clark mood, but Bruce is moving very quickly to the top of the list. And, this is what Bruce calls okay in his last note to Lex? Is he just not sending Clark to Lex because he's jealous? He is very very quickly moving to the top of the list.
(no subject)
4/6/06 07:00 am (UTC)Yes--thank goodness, I was able to tapdance my way through some porn. At least, it looks like porn. *G*
Bruce is very jealous, doesn't want to be, thinks he's not--but he is. Poor thing.
(no subject)
4/6/06 12:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
4/6/06 01:19 pm (UTC)*shrugs* What can I say?
(no subject)
4/6/06 01:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
4/6/06 02:00 pm (UTC)*sneaks in with keys*
Now see what you did.
4/6/06 05:47 pm (UTC)Nodding to his henchmen below, who quickly secured the stunned vigilante, the Joker turned to admire the indecently tight costume that Bats kept the boy in. The kid had a tight grip on Harley’s collar and she wouldn’t be able to escape without his help.
Excellent, what better way to keep two birds tied up with one stone.
With a well timed step back onto the balloon rising behind him, the Joker taunted lightly, “You’ll get your partner back when I get mine… Poppit, but, take all the time you need,” he paused to swing the utility belt that he’d slipped off the Batman just before the vigilante fell, then finished …”I have plenty of toys to keep me occupied all night long.”
As the balloon rose out of sight, the Joker explored the utility belt cackling with glee as each new toy revealed itself. When he reached the last pocket, the contents brought out an eeirie howl of laughter that caused even the special squadrons and swat teams below to shudder anxiously for their fallen protector.
As he reached the basket, where the Bats waited for him trussed and tied, the Joker laughed evilly and pulled out a small spray bottle from his pocket.
After spraying a few theatrical puffs of the green liquid into the air and enjoying the crowds screams as the people below tried to run from the mist, he danced around the his captive spraying the mist over the Dark Knight's head -accompanied by the anguished moans of the people below.
When he'd emptied the bottle, he tucked it into his pockets, caught the Dark Knights wrists just below his cuffs, leaned in until they were chest to chest, and watched the man's reaction.
A gleam of sweat rose on Batman's lips, a shudder ran through him as he felt his thigh slip between the Jokers leg and the preassure it created, finally a moan escaped as he opened his eyes to find the Joker's less than an inch away. The man's responding laughter racheted to unnerving levels as he slowly slipped his hand beneath the armor at batman's waist, to spread a thick gel that he'd found in the last pocket of the belt.
As he slipped his finger in, Joker closed his mouth over Batman's shocking the crowd below. The crowd, who couldn't hear the bat's needy whine. The crowd, who had no idea that his spray bottle carried only evian water and food coloring nor that the Batman's utility belt had been packed with green condoms and purple lube. The crowd, who was becoming increasingly irrelevent as his touch penetrated the Dark Knight's defenses.
Re: Now see what you did.
4/6/06 11:26 pm (UTC)Re: Now see what you did.
4/7/06 01:59 am (UTC)(no subject)
4/6/06 06:47 am (UTC)(no subject)
4/6/06 07:01 am (UTC)No. I lie. But hey--hot! *embarrassed grin*
(no subject)
4/6/06 04:31 pm (UTC)Oh man.
Okay.
Better.
The boys are still *stupid*, of course.
Heh.
But...better.
Of course, you're being mean to *Lex* now...
:)
(no subject)
4/6/06 11:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
5/7/06 05:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
5/7/06 07:25 pm (UTC)(no subject)
8/30/06 03:30 am (UTC)Clark - I expected a different explosion, and this surprised me. I loved it. That he should be quiet and still intense and finally get Bruce to see him even if it is in a twisted mirror, felt right.
I can only imagine how each has compartmentalized each action, and emotion. There's still more to come, but this layer, this connectedness, was necessary.
poor boys, taking comfort how they can.