Summary: Clark and Bruce celebrate their first anniversary in the Fortress.
Date Of Completion: July 7, 2008
Date Of Posting: July 7, 2008
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 2219
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: This is my first attempt at movieverse Clark/Bruce, but I thought it would be fitting since saavikam77 requested this for her first LJ anniversary, seeing her love for that ‘verse. :)
I did cheat a little by mentioning Dick, but I just can’t see movieverse Bruce not winding up with his cheerful little partner at some point, TPTB notwithstanding! That scene in Batman Begins after the Scarecrow doses Bruce pointed out that fact that he needs a partner in heartbreaking fashion. Wasn’t that a great scene? The music was so perfect! Bruce never looked more alone than while desperately fighting the fear toxin. I figured Saavi wouldn’t mind if I added at least a few mentions of our favorite Little Bird! :)
Bruce slipped on the warm dark-blue sweater, aware that Clark had dialed up the temperature here in the Fortress, but as long as he was wearing civvies, this seemed appropriate.
He never tired of gazing at the crystalline architecture, pleased at its beauty and otherworldiness.
Just like its owner.
He smiled, glancing over at the large bed that he slept in whenever he resided here. The room was pretty cozy, pictures of the farm and Metropolis on the walls, and a small framed photo on the dresser of Clark with his parents when he was still just a child. Now it also held photos of him and Dick and a picture of the Manor gardens as they sloped down to the seawall, the ocean sparkling as the backdrop, Alfred puttering around the roses.
The furniture in this room was slightly jarring: maple dresser, nightstand, and rocker instead of the Kryptonian style, and the bed was a four-poster. The sheets were a light-blue cotton, and a red-yellow-and-blue quilt made by Martha was draped across the bed.
Bruce quickly combed his hair and walked out of the bedroom, heading for the dining room.
It was always a little surreal away from that warmly-colored room, his footsteps echoing slightly as striations of color swirled through the crystals and ice. He could smell dinner cooking and arrived at the dining room, the crystal table laid with a white tablecloth and crystal candlesticks, white candles already lit.
Clark came out of the kitchen with a silver tureen in his hands, setting it on the table. A bouquet of crystals shimmered in the middle of the table.
“Very beautiful.” Bruce looked over his companion. Clark was still wearing his glasses, something he usually didn’t do in the Fortress. He wore a red sweater over a white shirt and dark-blue pants. “Smells good.”
“Have a seat.”
Bruce sat down and Clark disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a silver bowl of salad and another of mixed vegetables. The Kryptonian set them down and took his own place at the table.
Bruce lifted his crystal goblet emblazoned with the House of El symbol, Clark pouring a sparkling wine from a bottle that he placed back into the silver ice bucket on the table.
“Mmm, one of my best vintages. Alfred help you pick this out?”
“He’s the master at it.”
Bruce smiled and sipped the wine. It was a 19th-century French wine that was exquisite.
“Did he or your mother contribute any of the food?”
“No, it’s all my cooking.”
Clark laughed. “It’s safe, Bruce. Unlike you, I have some talent in the kitchen.”
Bruce stuck his tongue out and Clark laughed again. “I had to use Earth ingredients, but these recipes are Kryptonian.”
“Yes. The vegetables, for instance, were cooked with fruit that I picked up from all over the world. The oranges come from Florida, and give a special tang to the mixed dish.”
Bruce scooped out the fruit/vegetable mix onto his plate and tasted it. “Mmm, you’re right! I can taste the orange but it doesn’t overwhelm all the other ingredients.” He looked at the tureen. “And that is…?”
“Chicken, but I cooked it with some unusual herbs and spices. I mean, technically this isn’t Kryptonian cooking without the actual ingredients, but the taste should be new to you. Though you’re such a world traveler, maybe not.”
Bruce put some of the chicken on his plate. “No, my palate during my world travels during my seven-year sojourn did not include gourmet meals, I can assure you.” He thought of the wretched prison food in Tibet. “I’m all for the exotic mixed in with a little of the familiar.”
Clark’s eyes were very blue behind his glasses, and Bruce felt his heart swell with love. He sampled the chicken and praised the taste, impressed by Clark’s cooking skills while his own were so woeful. Thank God for Alfred!
Classical music began to play, piped in by the AI, and Bruce relaxed even more. The lights were dimmed and the candlelight flickered, Clark’s shy smile endearing as he and Bruce discussed their day.
Bruce had never dreamed of knowing peace like this. Tormented for so many years after his parents’ deaths, he thought he was doomed to walk the earth like some vengeful wraith, love strangled by grief and rage. Alfred had kept his link to humanity, and Clark had widened that link, ironically because of his alien heritage, but Bruce had recognized a lonely soul. And now he had Dick, another soul damaged by cruelty, though somehow remaining bright.
And what kind of loneliness must Clark have known? The last living member of his race? Fortunate to have been raised by the Kents, he still was well aware of his difference. Bruce understood difference.
Clark was shy and warm and Bruce felt indescribably happy.
The dinner went well, and Clark brought out some light cakes that were sweet and frosted. Bruce didn’t eat too many sweets because of his training regimen but thought it would be okay tonight.
Because it was a special night.
Bruce wasn’t quite sure how he could have lived his life before Clark was in it, and he didn’t want to find out how.
“A toast,” Clark said, raising his wineglass. Bruce copied him and Clark said, “Happy First Anniversary, Bruce.”
Bruce smiled. “Happy First Anniversary, Clark.”
They drank and Clark’s eyes sparkled as he reached behind the silver bucket and drew out a small package, wrapped in light-blue paper and bow. Shyly, Clark handed the gift over to Bruce, who took it and smiled at his lover.
Bruce opened the present, awe tingeing his face as he lifted out the tiny star-shaped crystal, a silver chain trailing.
“It’s beautiful, Clark.”
“I’m so glad you like it! It’s a replica of a Kryptonian wedding necklace. See, our initials are intertwined within the crystal, and the words in Kryptonian, Forever.”
Bruce’s hand trembled slightly. “I…I don’t know what to say, Clark.”
“Say that you’ll wear it, at least on special occasions.”
Bruce immediately put the chain over his head and let the crystal glow against his dark sweater.
“You look beautiful in it.”
Bruce blushed, then said, “Wait here.”
He returned to the bedroom and fished out a small package from his cape. He walked back swiftly to the dining room and presented it.
Clark eagerly took it, unwrapping the white satin bow and paper.
“Oh…this is beautiful, Bruce!”
The gold chain held a golden star-shaped pendant, and Bruce chuckled. “Seems like we had similar ideas, though my necklace was made at Tiffany’s.”
“It’s perfect.” Clark lifted it out, admiring the play of light on gold, then turned it over. He smiled. “It seems we were once again on the same wavelength. Initials entwined, but the word is Love.” He slipped the chain over his head. “Forever and Love sound about right.”
Bruce laughed. Clark stood and gently kissed him. “Go back to the bedroom. I can clean up here quickly.”
Bruce nodded, watching as Clark turned on the super-speed.
Back at the bedroom, he undressed, resting his hand on the crystal. He decided to keep it on.
He put his clothes and costume away in the dresser, then climbed up on the bed and sat atop the sheets, resting against the pillow. He waited, fingers twining around the necklace.
Suddenly Clark appeared, but not in his human garb. He was wearing elaborate Kryptonian robes, light-blue and silver, nearly blending in with the room as it changed to white, the sheets on the bed turning silver. Alien eyes glowed with an ethereal beauty, and Bruce was mesmerized.
Clark was floating, not walking.
He floated into the room, the folds of his robes billowing out behind him. Bruce noticed he had the star necklace on. He smiled.
“Is it Clark or Kal tonight?”
“Whatever you desire, my love.”
Bruce felt excitement build up in him and he held out his hand. “Come to bed, Beloved.”
Clark smiled, shedding the lightweight clothes and floated above the bed gloriously naked. He descended to the bed, fitting his body to Bruce’s.
Bruce slid his arms around his lover, still awed that this man was his to claim. He kissed Clark, warm lips meeting his own with enthusiasm. He kissed Clark’s jaw, throat, and shoulders, a wave of tenderness overtaking him.
Clark’s hands were in his hair, kissing his cheeks and brow, equally tender. The world of silver-and-white made Bruce feel a little dizzy, but he happily continued his exploration of Clark’s chest.
Clark’s fingers tugged on his hair, Bruce mentally smiling as his ministrations were having an effect on his lover. Clark’s legs were entwining with his, and Bruce’s mouth found a nipple, Clark gasping softly. He squirmed as Bruce continued his suckling, Bruce deftly rolling them over so that he ended up on top, slowly moving his hips, their cocks grinding together as he lifted his head and saw Clark’s blissful face, the Kryptonian’s eyes closed.
Clark was such a sensualist, not surprising considering his enhanced senses. Bruce loved finding out what pleased him and he gently bit the other nipple, the body beneath him jerking in reaction. The gold necklace glowed against his tanned skin, Bruce overwhelmed not for the first time at his lover’s beauty.
“Bruce…” Clark whispered.
“What is it? What do you want, love?”
Bruce felt the shiver go through his loins and he rained kisses down upon Clark’s face and neck, hand sliding down to caress his hip. He was gentle as he stroked smooth skin, slipping his hand under to cup a buttock. Clark’s eyes were starlit blue, drawing Bruce in, and he whispered, “Are you ready for me?”
Clark’s eyes grew even more starry and he nodded, Bruce straightening up and Clark rolling over, trembling slightly as he anticipated what came next.
Bruce lovingly caressed the buttocks presented to him, teasing the thighs and bending down to slide his tongue in hot darkness. His lover shivered, groaning as Bruce explored leisurely, then straightened up once more and kept one hand caressing and stroking as his other hand opened the small nightstand by the bed, taking out the jar of cream and briefly leaving his lover’s body, using two hands to prepare himself and Clark, then he began sliding his cock up and down the backs of Clark’s thighs, intrigued by the shimmering silver beneath the golden skin.
He bent down and kissed the small of Clark’s back, then slid inside his body.
Hot, tight, and welcoming.
A jolt of pleasure went through him, his own body obeying his desires while Clark writhed beautifully beneath him. Silver sparkled as perfect flesh glowed, all his.
To have and to hold, he thought with a touch of amusement.
Fitting for an anniversary.
Clark gasped so prettily, then started to urge Bruce to go faster, harder. Bruce obliged, knowing that he couldn’t hurt Clark, giving him a freedom he’d never known with any other lover.
He grasped Clark’s hips, thrusting in hard, and pleasure tingled along his nerves as he increased his speed, touching deep into Clark, who groaned incoherently with pleasure.
Bruce grinned. Reducing Superman to a pleasure-wracked, gibbering beauty was well worth it, wasn’t it?
He gently caressed Clark’s hip as he thrust in again, never wanting Clark to doubt that love was mixed with sex.
Bruce’s senses were alive with silver and white and blue, silk caressing his skin and heat caressing his cock. He heard his lover’s soft gasps and heartfelt groans, tasted love on his lips, felt the thrumming of his own blood.
The Fortress was always cold, except where it was warm, at its heart, and he thanked whatever deities there were who had given him this special man. Fallen from the stars, blessed with beauty and a good heart and courage, he had chosen Bruce as his Beloved.
The necklace was warm against his skin in reminder.
Bruce felt himself coming, spilling his seed into the body of the man he loved, Clark echoing him and Bruce sealed himself to Clark, loving the sensation of skin-on-skin.
They lay quietly for several moments, then Bruce nuzzled Clark’s ear. “Why the silver?”
Clark smiled. “I wanted both sides of me to show tonight. The meal was Kryptonian, but I was Clark. Then I came to you as Kal, changing the décor of my room, but I was still Clark.”
Bruce kissed his lover’s shoulder. “Aren’t you the clever little Kryptonian?”
Clark laughed and Bruce slid out and off him, their bodies arranging to face each other as they lay on their sides. Bruce couldn’t stop touching his lover. He loved Clark surrounded by warm reds, yellows, and blues, but this silver, blue, and white background was making him look exotic, blue eyes reflecting the stars.
Bruce wondered when he’d gotten so poetic.
Must be from making love with a star-borne lover.
Clark’s (Kal’s?) eyes were watching him, soft affection letting the stars fall.
“I love you, Bruce. Happy Anniversary,” he said, sliding his fingers through Bruce’s hair and then cupping his face.
“Happy Anniversary, Clark. And Kal.” At Clark’s sunshine smile, Bruce smiled, too. “And I love you, too.”
They kissed as silver shimmered and mixed with starlight and shadows.