Pairings/Characters: Clark/Bruce, Vala
Genres: Challenge, Fluff, Humor (With a touch of Crack)
Rating: Mild 'R'
Claim: For the dcu_freeforall Challenge (Clark/Bruce)
Prompt: T 12; P 3: Naked
Prompt Count: (13/15)
Summary: A diplomatic mission strips down to the bare essentials for the World’s Finest. :)
Date Of Completion: May 22, 2010
Date Of Posting: July 1, 2010
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 2520
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
“A nudist colony?!”
“That’s right.” Bruce smirked. “What’s the matter, farmboy? Modest?”
They were in the conference room of the Watchtower, Bruce sitting and Clark pacing in agitation, his cape fluttering out behind him.
Clark’s face was flushed pink. “I’m not used to walking around naked in front of people!”
“I do not!”
“I’m talking about in the JLA locker room.”
Clark’s mouth twisted into a pout. Bruce liked the look of that, and he was eager for the chance to see Clark in all his glory. Purely for scientific purposes, of course.
“J’onn says the Valerans are unaware of this part of the Galaxy and don’t know about Superman and Batman, except that they are aware of us being heroes. Our identities will be safe, though we will have to disguise ourselves to some extent. Eventually the Valerans may get to know us, and I don’t think I could explain Bruce Wayne on an intergalactic junket.”
“I don’t think wearing the cowl will go with nudist camp style,” Clark said tartly.
Bruce smirked. “Just a dye job and a subtle change of nose and mouth with some strategically-applied make-up.”
“What about the scars?”
“A Warrior’s badge of honor.”
“I thought this was supposed to be a diplomatic mission.”
“It is, but it doesn’t hurt to parade the equivalent of medals.”
“Got all the answers, huh?”
Clark crossed his arms with a scowl. “Smug suits you, Bruce, but someday that arrogance of yours will trip you up.”
Bruce merely smiled.
The Valerans were humanoid, so Clark and Bruce were able to blend in to some extent. It beat tentacles! They were taller than most Humans, and had skin tones of copper, peach, and rose, with darker shades for their hair and eyes. Clark and Bruce’s blue eyes utterly fascinated them.
They were a beautiful people, Bruce thought, tall and slender and graceful.
He had successfully transformed himself enough to protect his identity. His hair was now dark-red, and as promised, subtle applications of make-up changed his appearance just enough that there would be no connection to Bruce Wayne, Prince of Gotham.
Bruce had also been correct about his scars being a badge of honor. The Valerans were fascinated by them, running their long fingers over the ridged flesh when Bruce gave permission. He was eagerly awaiting Clark’s first nude appearance as he sat by the pool, a ring of alien admirers around him.
Just like home, he smirked to himself.
He smirked again as he remembered the Kansas farmboy blushing as they were escorted to their cabin by a naked Valeran. Once at the cabin they were expected to get naked and remain that way unless leaving the resort.
Bruce had unpacked and undressed while Clark took a shower. Once done, Bruce went out to the pool.
The Valerans were perfect hosts, though a little intrusive. Still, they were respectful and Bruce was enjoying the attention. The people were beautiful and intelligent, an interesting combination, and Bruce was entertained by both facets.
He was deep in discussion of interstellar travel with a young woman from the Space Administration when a stir went through the crowd. Heads turned, people gasping and trilling a strange little musical sound that indicated joy, as close as Bruce could tell.
The crowd around his chair parted, and Bruce saw what had captured the Valerans’ attention. His pulse speeded up and he almost dropped his jaw.
Yes, he’d seen Clark naked in the locker room of the Watchtower, but only fleeting glimpses, never this full-on glory.
Clark was smiling, the ‘S’ curl falling over his forehead, broad shoulders and chest smooth and unmarked, tapering to a narrow waist, strong thighs and calves, and elegant feet. Oh, yeah, and an incredible package.
The man was a god.
“Kal! Over here!”
They’d decided to use other names to protect their identities. Clark was Kal-El and Bruce was using the name Richard, much to his ward’s delight.
Clark walked around the pool, the Valerans awed. They were all thin, and a build like Clark’s was unusual. They had been fascinated by Bruce’s physique, but of course Clark was exceptional.
Bruce had been noticing Clark’s physique for awhile now.
Vala, a tall, coppery-skinned woman, detached herself from Bruce’s side and approached Clark.
“Kal-El, you honor us with your presence.”
Clark blushed slightly but smiled. “Thank you, Ms., uh…”
“Vala.” She tossed her tawny hair, her coppery eyes intense as she smiled back. “We are very honored to have such fine Warriors here on Valera.”
“We’re honored to be here, Vala.”
Bruce sipped his drink, a mild tangerine flavor accented by a sprig of mint. As far as he could tell, it wasn’t alcoholic, but one could never be sure with alien food or drink, so Bruce kept an eye on his physiological reactions. As long as nothing was Kryptonite-laced, Clark would have no worries.
“Have a seat, Kal.”
Clark sat in one of the chairs, a waiter bringing him a drink just like Bruce’s.
Bruce could see little knots of tension in Clark: the set of his shoulders, the wariness in his eyes, the slight tapping of his fingers on the table. He was still somewhat uncomfortable.
Bruce was completely relaxed, or as completely as the Bat could ever be. He was accustomed to spending time at ‘health’ resorts, and half the Gotham parties he went to ended up with drunken, half-clothed revelries, and sometimes not half.
Clark, on the other hand, had grown up in small-town Middle America, and while Bruce wasn’t fooled by Midwestern facades, he knew that sometimes what you saw was what you got: modest, wholesome people like Clark, who might have gone naked down at the ol’ swimmin’ hole on a hot summer day with his buddies but nowhere else.
“Mmm, good drink,” Clark said, using a straw to sip.
“Comes in all rainbow flavors.”
“Really? That’s interesting.” The Valerans had dispersed to swim in the pool or chat at other tables, though frequently cast their eyes the World’s Finest’s way. “Tell me again, Richard, why hanging out at a nudist colony is good diplomacy?”
Bruce smirked. “Because our hosts like to see their guests ‘stripped-down’, so to speak.”
Laughing, Bruce nodded. “They have a philosophy of not wanting diplomats to hide behind their trappings of rank and wealth. Nudity reveals the essence of the true person, or so they believe.”
Clark looked thoughtful as he sipped his drink. “That’s a pretty savvy philosophy.”
“Of course, we’re used to all kinds of disguises, eh?”
Clark stirred his drink. “I still think that Dick would have been better suited to this mission.”
Bruce laughed again. Thinking of his exhibitionist younger partner, he couldn’t argue with that!
As they sat in companionable silence, Bruce thought that considering that Clark used only a pair of glasses for his disguise on Earth, this ‘open’ philosophy probably suited him just fine.
They spent a pleasant afternoon by the pool, and were treated to a luau-style dinner under the stars as honored guests.
Clark seemed to be more relaxed, enjoying the crisply-barbequed meat and fresh fruits and vegetables. This time the drinks served were alcoholic and Bruce kept an eye on how much he consumed. Clark drank liberally but the drinks didn’t affect him, though he did seem more animated.
Vala approached their table and laughed, resting her hand on a broad shoulder. Clark smiled his dazzling smile at her, skin flushing pink as she rubbed up against him.
Bruce frowned. Vala was pretty forward! Wasn’t it a diplomatic faux pas to hit on a representative from another part of the Galaxy? And why wasn’t Mr. Shy Guy blushing harder and needing rescue?
Bruce got his answer. Clark’s eyes were glassy! He was drunk!
Great! This was a fine kettle of fish!
Bruce smiled at Vala. “Now, my fine lady, how about showing me the beach on your lovely planet?”
Vala smiled, piqued at Bruce’s interest. “Of course.”
Bruce whispered as he leaned down, “Go to our cabin, Clark. I’ll meet you there in a little while.”
Clark’s eyes sparkled as he grinned goofily. “All right.”
Bruce headed toward the beach with Vala, looking to see that Clark actually went to their cabin. Satisfied, he turned his attention to Vala.
An hour later, Bruce slipped into the cabin, hearing a soft snore.
Good, he’s safely in bed.
He slipped into his own bed, which was only separated from Clark’s by the nightstand. He fell asleep with a smile on his face.
“Apparently you can be affected by alien booze.” Bruce sipped his juice. It tasted like apples.
Clark lay in bed, arm slung over his eyes. Bruce was enjoying breakfast at the table by the window, watching the Valerans up at this hour as they swam in the pool, some eating breakfast at the tables.
It was a sunny morning, perfect Clark weather, if he wasn’t currently moaning.
“Would you care for a little hair of the dog?”
“No, why would I want hair of Krypto?”
Bruce smirked. “You’d better stay inside until you feel better. I’ll play Sir Diplomat today.”
Clark groaned as he buried his face in his pillow.
Bruce smiled as he headed back to the cabin. He’d see if Clark was up to having some lunch. They could eat it in the cabin. Tonight was a dinner they’d have to attend with their hosts. Bruce preferred a more intimate setting.
He entered the cabin, stopping short as he saw Vala leaning over a sleeping Clark in bed.
She jumped back. “Richard! What are you doing here?”
“I live here. What are you doing here?”
“Checking on Kal_El.” She recovered her aplomb quickly. “He is ill.”
“Yeah, too much drink.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but he won’t be waking up any time soon.”
Vala pouted. “Should I get a doctor?”
“No, he’ll be fine. Thanks for your concern.”
Vala flounced out, Bruce’s smile Bat-like as he watched her go.
Clark awoke with only minimal lingering effects, and after a dose of sunlight, he was fully recovered.
Later that day, the dinner with their hosts went well, and Bruce made sure he was between Clark and Vala and any other admirers. Clark was just too damned innocent, surrounded by these sharks! He also made sure that the drinks Clark consumed were non-alcoholic. A drunk Superman he didn’t need. A drunk, vulnerable Clark was worse!
Beautiful, stirring alien music began to play, courtesy of talented musicians, and Bruce enjoyed dancing with several Valeran women, who were excellent dancers. Clark did his share, Vala draped over him during one dance, and Bruce noticed Clark stumble. What the…? He went over to their table after the music ended and sniffed Clark’s drink. Booze! He’d given the waiters strict instructions to keep their drinks on the fruity side. He scowled and looked up just in time to catch Vala’s triumphant smirk.
He slammed the glass down, nearly shattering it, and the musicians started playing again. He stalked over to Clark and Vala and said, “May I cut in?” The Valerans had a similar custom, for which he was grateful. It would make this much easier.
“Of course,” purred Vala, turning her body toward Bruce, a look of shock on her face as Bruce swept Clark up into his arms instead and danced away.
“You’re drunk, Clark.”
Clark giggled as if this was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. Oh, well, Bruce thought, at least he’s a happy drunk.
“You were slipped a mickey.”
Bruce huffed. “Looks like you need rescuing!”
Clark smiled beautifically and tilted his head. “You’re my Dark Knight, Bruce.”
Bruce rolled his eyes. “Try not to step on my feet, Kal-El.”
He was glad when he was able to click the lock on their cabin door and they went to sleep when the dinner was over.
When Bruce awoke, he was dismayed to see the other bed empty. The bathroom door was open, and no sounds were coming from the room. Grumbling, Bruce dragged himself out of bed and stumbled outside.
There was no one beside the pool, and Bruce went to the gardens, the exotic flowers pungent in the early morning air. He walked along the dirt path in slippers, stopping at the edge of a small area enclosed by tall hedges and an inner border of yellow, pink, and red flowers.
Clark was in the center, bending down to touch a gaudy yellow flower that resembled an Earth sunflower.
Of course, Bruce thought with a fond shake of his head. Clark was totally absorbed in the flower.
Great back view!
Though the front view would be pretty darned delicious, too. Still, those lush buttocks…
The alien sun kissed perfect skin that seemed to sparkle as Clark poured his attention onto the sunflower. Strong hands delicately cupped the flower, inhaling its scent.
What would it be like, to have that attention lavished upon me?
Bruce began to back away, and Clark looked up. Smiling brilliantly, he straightened up.
“Join me, Bruce.”
Bruce came forward, aching to touch that incredibly smooth skin. The ‘S’ curl tumbled over his brow, bright blue eyes sparkling like sunlight-on-the-sea. Full lips curved upward into a smile.
“Beautiful morning,” Bruce said.
“Very.” Amusement twinkled in Clark’s eyes. “What are you doing up so early?”
“I guess you’ve rubbed off on me.” I only wish! “I suppose you’ve been up for hours,” Bruce grumped.
“Just since a few minutes before dawn.”
Bruce’s heart was pounding. Clark was so beautiful!
“Everything all right, Bruce?”
“You seem distracted.”
“Yes, well, I’m not used to taking a stroll though the garden while stark naked.”
“I thought you were the sophisticate who was right at home in a nudist colony.”
“This exposure philosophy is a little too exposed for me.”
Clark smiled. “You always prefer a mask, don’t you?”
Bruce could hear the unspoken in Clark’s voice when it came to him and masks, hiding more than just his identity.
He suddenly felt naked in more ways than one.
Clark’s smile was all he needed to take a step forward, laying his hands on Clark’s broad shoulders. He lost himself in unearthly blue eyes and Clark pulled him in for a kiss, deep and soul-searing.
Their bodies crushed together, electricity sparking between them as their skin touched, warm and pulsing.
“I guess we’ve been exposed for sure now.”
Clark nuzzled his friend’s neck. “I’d call it a bit of naked truth.”
“How witty,” Bruce said sarcastically as he ground his cock against Clark’s, cupping his companion’s buttocks.
Clark laughed as he lifted them up and flew them to the beach, stretching them out on the sand as the waves crashed over their bodies.
The Naked Truth met From Here To Eternity.