Pairings/Characters: (this chapter): Clark/Bruce
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): PG-13
Summary: Bruce has an accident while on patrol.
Date Of Completion (First Draft): August 12, 2007
Date Of Posting: March 29, 2008
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 853
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
We don’t even know
What we need.
Dr. Charles Renshaw
“Psychology Of The Human Race”
The Batman slipped silently over icy rooftops, hard-packed snow sticking to the tarpaper and piled up against the buildings below.
Gotham had dug out of the snow a few days after New Year’s, and a light dusting since then obscured the dirty grime of city snow. The night was cold, very few people out past midnight.
Gratified that crime seemed to be taking a night off, Batman considered cutting his patrol short.
Clark had eagerly soaked up what Bruce had taught him about the Batcave computers. Clark was saving him dozens of man-hours in research, an invaluable asset in the Mission. Now when his slave had no direct orders to be waiting for him or wasn’t chained to the bed, he was more likely to be found tapping away on the computer keys if Batman came back before 1:00.
Batman smiled to himself. It was about time to chain Clark up again, keep him spread wide open and ready, think of him as helpless and vulnerable and aching for Bruce to take him…
Batman shook his head, his groin tingling. Really, he needed to focus!
A noise alerted him and he gazed down into an alley. He frowned as he saw a shabbily-dressed man skulking around the garbage cans. He appeared to be carrying something in an old rag…
A curse flew out of him as his boot slipped on a patch of ice, sending him over the edge of the roof. He grabbed for the edge, grunting as he jerked his shoulder. He fumbled at his belt for his grapple hook, his body swinging as pain lanced up his arm.
For one agonizing moment, Batman thought he was going to fall several stories, but he found the hook, shot it upward, and painfully pulled himself up and over the roof’s edge.
He sat in the snow, gasping for breath.
& & & & & &
Clark saved the file he had been working on all evening for the final time and pushed his chair back. The computer would stay on in case Batman needed to check something or wanted to write the evening’s report.
It was 12:30 A.M. and Clark was tired. He wanted to get some sleep before Bruce came to him in bed.
The roar of the Batmobile’s engine startled Clark. It was early for Batman to be back, but perhaps the weather had kept people indoors and made crime less inviting for one night.
The engine cut and the door opened, Batman coming out and limping to the computer.
Clark’s astonished question stopped Bruce in his tracks, a slight grimace on his face.
“Are you all right?”
“Hurt my leg and shoulder.” The voice was the Bat-rasp, but Clark was not intimidated.
“Should I get Alfred?”
Bruce shook his head. “Just some bruising.”
“I slipped and…fell off a roof.”
Clark’s face registered his fear and put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder.
“You need a partner,” he said softly.
He knew Bruce was looking at him despite his eyes hidden by the white lenses. Clark was not offering himself as a partner. He was all too aware that his illness prevented him from that role, but wasn’t there someone Bruce could trust to take on as a partner?
“The Bat works alone.”
The growl wasn’t angry, merely stating a fact. Bruce even allowed Clark to escort him to the small infirmary.
Clark bit his lip at the bruising on Bruce’s left thigh and shoulder. No doubt he would be very sore tomorrow, especially the wrenched shoulder. Clark applied some liniment, Bruce hissing through his teeth as his shoulder was rubbed.
“Please, come up to bed.”
“You’ll kiss it and make it better?” Bruce teased.
“I can,” Clark said with a smile, grasping Bruce’s hand.
Bruce brought their joined hands to his lips and brushed over Clark’s knuckles. “Go upstairs and be ready for me.” Bruce leaned in to whisper, “Bed, on your back,” then kissed his slave.
“Yes, Master,” Clark said, the smile still on his face, and he left Bruce, who headed for the showers.
As Clark climbed the stone steps, he worried over Bruce’s lack of a back-up. He didn’t have a superhuman power like the Flash of Central City, or the invulnerability the Kryptonians enjoyed under a yellow sun. He was merely a man, albeit an incredibly skilled and determined man.
Clark emerged through the clock and shut it behind him, heading upstairs.
His mind still pondering the dilemma of who could watch Batman’s back on the streets of Gotham, he pulled off his robe and pajamas. He was allowed to wear the pajamas because of the coldness in the Cave but otherwise they had to be discarded in order for him to be open and ready for his Master.
As he settled on the bed, he stretched out his arms and spread his legs wide, closing his eyes as he waited for his Master and lover with a smile playing around his lips.