bradygirl_12 (bradygirl_12) wrote,
bradygirl_12
bradygirl_12

Fic: Rainbow's Freedom (RobinSong Arc) (2/41)

Title: Rainbow’s Freedom (RobinSong Arc) (2/41)
Author: BradyGirl
Pairings/Characters: (this chapter): Clark/Bruce, Alfred
Series Notes: In the 23rd century, Earth is a technologically-advanced society that practices the ancient institution of slavery. As Bruce and Clark try and adjust to being lovers as well as Master and slave, on a warm spring night a new member of the Wayne Household is added: a little boy whom Bruce sadly identifies with. Dick Grayson further pushes Bruce along the path of Abolitionism as the child brings further Light into the Manor. The entire series can be found here.
Genres: Drama, AU
Rating: (this chapter): NC-17
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Bruce and Clark ring in the New Year in their own special way.
Date Of Completion (First Draft): August 11, 2007
Date Of Posting: March 27, 2008
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1645
Feedback welcome and appreciated. 

And the Starchild played
In the season’s snow,
His Heart’s Keeper
Now to know,
That a Starchild’s love
Is rainbow-bright,
That against the Darkness
Shines the Light.
 And the one who wins
The Heart of Light
Will never again
Be lost
In the endless
Night.

 

 Marion Zimmer Grayson

“Tales of the Starchild”

2106 C.E.

 

 

II

 

SNOWBOUND

 

Snow fell softly, blanketing every feature of the estate.  Two figures pushed through the snow hand-in-hand, bright shapes in a world of white, enjoying muffled silence.

 

Clark stuck his tongue out to catch snowflakes.  Bruce laughed and squeezed his hand, Clark looking at him with joy in his eyes.

 

“Taste good?”

 

Laughter. “Delicious.  You should try one.”

 

Bruce thrust his tongue out, the flakes melting on it with cold sweetness.

 

“You’re right, they are delicious.”

 

Clark smiled happily, squeezing Bruce’s hand.

 

They forged through the snow in silence, then Clark, asked, “Master?”

 

“Mmm?”

 

“Am I under a House Veil?”

 

The question was almost timid.  Bruce looked at him. “Yes.” At Clark’s distressed expression Bruce assured him, “Not because of anything you did.  Actually, I’m the one I don’t trust.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Well, I have to work on my glowing.”

 

“Glowing?”

 

“Yes, every time I look at you, I glow like a lovesick bride.”

 

Clark laughed. “I understand.”

 

Bruce touched his cheek. “We both have to be careful in public.  It’ll be easier for you because of your dark glasses hiding the love in your eyes and people not caring if a slave falls for his Master, but for me…”

 

“I know.” Clark squeezed his hand again.

 

Society was contemptuous of a Master who fell in love with his slave.  Ridicule and loss of respect was his lot, as well as less ability to protect the slaves in his care.

 

I’ll protect Clark and Alfred with everything I have.

 

It was a vow he had no intention of breaking.

 

“What about tonight’s party?”

 

“Well, New Year’s Eve or not, I’m sending my regrets.  A land car can’t get into town, and a hovercar is out.  They’ll probably be canceling it, anyway.”

 

“I heard they’ll be showing fireworks from all over Earth.”

 

“Yes, we’ll watch that tonight.  There’ll be muted celebrations in Gotham because of the storm, but maybe Metropolis will be able to live it up.”

 

Bruce would have never guessed that the old year would have brought such a change to his life.

 

Maybe I should send Silas Bracken a little gift.

 

The slave dealer’s invitation to the private auction last fall had brought Clark into his life, and for that he would be forever grateful.

 

Mischief sparkled in Bruce’s eyes.  He slipped out of Clark’s grasp and scooped up some snow, packing it into a ball.

 

“Oh, no, you don’t!” Clark quickly fashioned his own snowball and the battle was joined.

 

Both men laughed as they were pelted, feinting and taunting, Clark yelping as he tripped and fell on his back, Bruce falling on top.

 

Cheeks flushed pink from the cold, sapphire-blue eyes sparkling, Clark looked achingly beautiful.  Bruce kissed him, the taste of snowflakes on his tongue.

 

& & & & & &

 

Alfred paused as he dusted the foyer.  He watched the snowball fight, extremely pleased.  Clark was excellent for Master Bruce.

 

He went to the kitchen, checking to see if they had hot chocolate and miniature marshmallows on hand.

 

& &  & & & &

 

“Ready to go in?”

 

Clark considered. “What, you don’t want to make more snow angels?”

 

Bruce laughed as he nuzzled Clark’s neck. “I already have my Angel.”

 

Bruce helped Clark up, Clark noticing a cardinal blood-red against the snow.  The bird stood out, a beautiful creature with grace and style.  The stark contrast somehow seemed to work.  He led Clark back to the Manor.

 

Inside the kitchen was the heavenly smell of baking bread.  Alfred set out plates on the table.

 

“Hot chocolate with cookies, sir?”

 

“Excellent, Alfred.”

 

After the snowy clothes and boots were placed in the mudroom, the happy lovers sat at the table with Alfred, devouring chocolate chip cookies warm from the oven.

 

“I’ve planned a light repast for tonight, sir: roast chicken, a pasta salad, some sesame seed crackers and cheese.”

 

“Sounds good, Alfred.”

 

“A pity that the sumptuous banquet you would have enjoyed tonight is cancelled.”

 

“Oh, I don’t know, Alfred.  The company is better here.”

 

Alfred and Clark smiled.

 

Bruce’s cellphone rang.  Flipping it open, he said, « Hello?” delight lighting up his face. “Hello, Ollie!  Yes, Happy New Year!  How’s Dinah?  Wonderful.” Bruce picked out a cookie and laid it on his plate. “So how’s the weather in Star City?  Mmm, hmm.  So you’ve got snow there?  We’ve got a blizzard here.  Yes, I’m snowbound here at the Manor.” Bruce laughed. “Yes, not a hardship!  Thanks for your call, Ollie.  It was a great year, and I’m hoping for another one.  I’ll see you next week, that is, if I can dig out of here.  Again, Happy New Year!”

 

Bruce flipped the phone shut. “Ollie and Dinah send their well wishes.”

 

Clark felt warmth at the thoughtfulness of the Master and Mistress of Queens’ Castle.

 

& & & & & &

 

The evening was quiet, the trio enjoying the supper that Alfred had prepared.  They watched celebrations from around the world on television, and by ten o’clock Alfred said goodnight.

 

“Believe me, sir, I’ve seen many New Years.  I’m just as happy at my age to get a good night’s sleep.” Bruce and Clark grinned. “Good night and Happy New Year, Master Bruce, Clark.”

 

“Good night, Alfred, and Happy New Year,” Bruce said.

 

“Happy New Year, Alfred.” Clark cleaned up the remains of supper, Bruce helping, and then they returned to the living room.

 

The tree glittered in the glow of the fire, Bruce directing Clark to sit next to him on the couch, slipping his arm around his companion’s shoulders.

 

Bruce knew this idyll would end, but he was going to enjoy it while it lasted.  He refused to worry about what the future might bring, determined to revel in the present.

 

He was going to play the game of Master who was merely fond of his pleasure slave in public while secretly in love with that slave, who loved him.

 

What was another secret in his life?

 

The Batman would be on hiatus during these snowbound days.  Crime would be down, as it was difficult to mug someone in a snow-filled street, if someone was out on the street at all.

 

Bruce felt drowsy, a combination of good food, the warm fire, and contentment.  Clark’s head rested on his shoulder.

 

& & & & & &

 

Bruce came awake slowly, noticing the time on the mantel clock: 11:40.  Clark was sound asleep on his shoulder.

 

Bruce’s free hand slipped down to rest lightly between his slave’s legs.  He liked the gesture of ownership as he nuzzled Clark’s neck.

 

Clark awoke, his breath hitching as he registered the placement of Bruce’s hand.

 

Bruce felt slightly guilt for highlighting Clark’s slavery, but even in the romantic idyll Bruce had to occasionally assert his ownership.  It would help Clark to remember it, not that Bruce believed he could ever forget.

 

Still, they had to do their best to navigate this unique relationship.

 

Clark’s eyes sparkled.  He widened his legs slightly, Bruce smiling with predatory glee.  Bruce leaned over and kissed Clark, who responded enthusiastically.  In a very short time Clark was on his back with Bruce on top of him, the kisses deep and heartfelt.  The television was on low volume, still chronicling the world’s celebrations.

 

Bruce sat up and held out his hand. “Rug.”

 

Clark took the proffered hand and they both sat in front of the fireplace, kissing and divesting each other of their clothes.

 

Clark’s rainbow manacles and collar sparkled wildly in the firelight, his eyes a startling blue behind his glasses.  His stubborn curl dangled over his forehead.

 

Bruce caressed the golden skin, immensely proud that he owned such beauty, not just physically but in his heart.  He kissed every inch of glorious flesh, Clark’s soft moans spurring him on.

 

Bruce gently pushed Clark to the rug, kissing the flat stomach and smooth inner thighs that would not be scarred by the branding iron now.  Bruce blew lightly over his slave’s cock, Clark spreading his legs wider.  Bruce grabbed his legs and pushed them back, exposing well-muscled buttocks.  Bruce kissed the underside of a knee, then briefly left the rug to dig out a tube from his discarded pants pocket.

 

“Thought this might come in handy tonight,” Bruce smirked.

 

Clark laughed. “I never knew you were a Boy Scout.”

 

“You’d be surprised how prepared I can be.”

 

“Somehow, I don’t think so.” Clark’s eyes closed as his Master’s fingers prepared him.  His body quivered with anticipation, then shuddered as Bruce slowly entered him. 

 

“Beautiful, my love, my Starchild…” Bruce murmured.

 

Bruce loved the tightness around him, the heat and pleasure enclosing his cock as waves of pleasure rolled over him.  His lover’s ecstatic face increased that pleasure, his thrusts tearing cries of lusty joy from Clark, and the rhythm was pure ecstasy.

 

Fireworks boomed as Bruce thrust a final time, the mantel clock striking twelve, the ancient grandfather clock down the hall majestically announcing the arrival of yet another year.

 

Seconds later, Clark’s cock spurted over Bruce’s belly, and Bruce ground out, “Hear bells and whistles?”

 

“I hear…fireworks…” Clark gasped.

 

Bruce chuckled, sliding out of his lover and cleaning them up the best he could with a clean paper napkin he’d grabbed from the kitchen earlier.

 

As the world celebrated another New Year, Bruce snuggled against Clark, wrapping his arms around his companion and kissing his shoulder as the fire crackled in the fireplace, its light dancing off the ornaments on the tree.

 

May the New Year bring us joy.    

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

 

 


 

Tags: alfred pennyworth, clark kent/bruce wayne, rainbow's freedom, robinsong arc, superman/batman
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