Archive of Our Own

Clark thought it was ironic that it was Lex Luthor and the Injustice League that gave him the idea. Standing in the warehouse, rubbing his wrists, he ignored the ugly looks from Star Sapphire, Grundy, and Copperhead as they were lead away by Dan Turpin and the SCU. He vaguely heard their grumbling as officers pushed them into the paddy wagon but his focus was on the evidence bags that Maggie Sawyer was reviewing.

Not only had they given him the idea but if he could convince Maggie, they might have provided the means as well.

"Inspector Sawyer?" Touching her lightly on the shoulder, he gave her his best grin. "Do you think you could do me a favor?"

-

It turned out to be easier than he'd expected to convince her to see things his way. She hadn't fallen into line without any hesitations, of course, and the arguments that Clark had presented were all well thought out and, dare he think it, quite logical. Superman would have every right to be concerned about the little package that he tucked beneath his cape and flew away with into the night.

-

He took the roundabout route to his next destination, keeping low and out of sight of any prying eyes. Landing on the back grounds of Wayne Manor, he looked up at the building. After a moment of scanning with x-ray vision, he grinned to himself in satisfaction and let himself inside.

By the time he heard the familiar sound of the tumbler as it roared into the cave, he was more than ready. Reaching around the pole, Clark cinched the handcuffs shut and waited for Bruce.

The handcuffs began taking effect almost immediately and he groaned quietly, rubbing his cheek against the rock. The Kryptonite that the Injustice Gang had put into the metal wasn't enough to kill him, Luthor would have wanted that honour for himself, but it was enough to weaken him and that was the point.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Bruce's voice asked, surprised amusement in every word. Clark closed his eyes for a moment then looked over his shoulder to watch his lover approach. "Alfred get tired of you hanging around upstairs...in your underwear?"

Clark grinned at him and shook his head. "Alfred is out for the evening, remember? Dinner with the new girlfriend?"

Still clad in the batsuit, Bruce had abandoned the cowl by the computers and grinned at him with an almost boyish freedom. "Alfred has a new girlfriend? How do you know that?"

Tucking his chin, Clark gave him a reproachful look. "I am an investigative reporter, Bruce. When I don't know something around here? Worry."

"Ahh, somehow, I don't think so," Bruce teased, circling around the pole to get the full advantage of the image Clark was presenting. "But I'm not complaining about the surprise." He reached, one gloved hand sliding down the muscles of Clark's back.

To Clark's surprise, his body reacted with a quick shiver and raised gooseflesh. He sucked in a breath and lowered his head, letting his arms pull tight in the cuffs briefly.

"I take it these are a souvenir from this afternoon?" Bruce murmured, standing behind him so close Clark could feel his breath whispering over the hairs on his neck. "Your run in with the Injustice Gang?"

"Word gets around fast," Clark said.

"Well, I keep an ear open."

"You bugged the commissioner's office again, didn't you?"

"How else am I supposed to keep an eye on you?" Bruce teased, his gloved fingers making a return trip up Clark's spine. "Wait for Lois's write up in the Planet? You never tell her the whole truth anyway."

Clark chuckled. "Yes I do, she just doesn't report it all."

"Lois Lane working as your press agent, now that's unexpected." Bruce teased. "So, these cuffs?" He moved to examine them up close. "Kryptonite-laced?"

"Yes," Clark said. "I told Maggie I didn't want them falling into the wrong hands. She agreed and thought it would be best if I took them somewhere safe, maybe have them melted down and destroyed."

"They're not dangerous, are they?" Bruce wondered.

"No, not really. They don't contain a high enough concentration to do any serious harm, they weren't designed for that." Clark's breath caught as Bruce's hands started wandering again, gloved fingers sliding along his back and down his legs. "Luthor wanted me subdued, weak enough they could hurt me but not kill me. Oh god." His voice broke as Bruce pulled down his shorts, throwing them aside. "Bruce."

"Hmmm?" Bruce hummed, his hands curving over Clark's hips. "Something wrong?"

Clark shook his head, mute as those gloved fingers toyed with him.

"Good," came the rough whisper. Bruce was as affected as he was and Clark didn't need his abilities to tell him that. "Because this, I plan on enjoying."

"That," Clark swallowed, licking his lips. "That was the plan."

Bruce chuckled. "God, I wish I could see the look on Luthor's face if he knew what Superman was really doing with those handcuffs." His voice was gleeful as he reached around, brushing the barest of touches over Clark's cock. "If he knew what I would do with them."

"He wouldn't know what to do," Clark laughed breathlessly, his hips thrusting forward. "Wouldn't know how to, oh, Bruce."

"I love hearing you say that," Bruce murmured, lips brushing Clark's shoulder. "You have no idea what it's like, seeing you this way. God, Clark, you need to come up with ideas like this more often."

Clark groaned, thrusting into Bruce's gloved hand, "Let's keep the cuffs in the cave," he suggested. "Safest place." He rested his forehead against the rock and closed his eyes again. God, he was so hard. He couldn't think straight and the fact that Bruce stood behind him still in the suit wasn't helping. He couldn't look behind him, he didn't dare.

He moaned Bruce's name, fingers gripping the rock tightly as he held on. The awareness that he was almost powerless and totally within Bruce's control was intoxicating. He could do nothing to stop Bruce if he wanted to and his body's reaction to that was to moan and arch backward, seeking out the feeling of Bruce's body armor against him.

His lover's name fell from his lips in a plea and Bruce pressed close, hand closing around his cock and holding it carefully. "Something I can do for you, Clark?" he teased, whispering the words into Clark's ear. "Something you need?"

"You," Clark managed. "Just you. Oh god, Bruce!"

Brushing one thumb over the head of Clark's cock, Bruce was moving slowly. It was a deliberate choice of pace, Clark knew, meant to prolong the sensation and make him beg.

It was working. Under Bruce's ministrations, he groaned, begged, pleaded, and - in the end - came with a cry of pleasure so loud he was sure all Gotham heard him.

When he could think again, the first thing Clark felt was Bruce's laughter as it radiated through his shoulder. Bruce's mouth was pressed against his skin, lips moving over it as he laughed. "You are amazing," he said, controlling his chuckles enough to speak. "Just, amazing."

"Funny," Clark said thickly, "I was just thinking the same thing about you." He hesitated and then turned. "Bruce?"

"Hmmm?"

"My wrists hurt and I, uh, I don't have a key."