Pairings/Characters: (this chapter): Clark/Bruce, Dick, Barbara Gordon, Alfred
Series Notes: In the 23rd century, Earth is a technologically-advanced society that practices the ancient institution of slavery. New superheroes appear on the scene as the Abolitionist Movement gathers strength. Meanwhile, Lex gets his heart’s desire while long-held secrets begin to spill out of the Manor. Nothing will ever be the same again.
The entire series can be found here.
Genres: AU, Challenge, Drama, Slavefic
Challenge Category: Section E (Slavefic)
Rating: (this chapter): NC-17
Summary: A quiet respite at Wayne Manor is disturbed.
Date Of Completion (First Draft): November 5, 2009
Date Of Posting: April 2, 2011
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1051
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author's Note: Written for my 2010 DCU Fic/Art Bondage Challenge.
Do you hear
Before the storm?
Before the end
"The Coming Of
BEFORE THE STORM
Clark smiled as he nibbled at Bruce’s neck, his lover purring. They were both in the master bedroom, silk sliding on silk.
Bruce ran his hand down Clark’s bare chest, warm and smooth and delicious. His hand brushed over Clark’s nipples, Clark gasping as he shivered.
Bruce winked, warm lips latching onto a nipple, sucking gently. Clark writhed, pressing Bruce’s head closer to his chest, smiling and moaning.
Bruce kissed his way down Clark’s chest and stomach, his tongue flicking over his lover’s cock.
“Bruce…” Clark gasped.
“Mmm, you taste so good.”
Clark gasped again as Bruce swallowed him whole, splayed out as he welcomed Bruce’s lustful attentions. Warm, wet, wonderful…
Clark orgasmed, throwing his head back, Bruce swallowing every drop of his essence.
Bruce licked his lips, looking like a cat who had swallowed the canary. Or something.
Clark ran his fingers through his lover’s hair. “Delicious,” he purred.
Bruce laughed and kissed Clark’s hip.
“Come up here.” Clark’s eyes glittered.
Bruce scooted up and snuggled with Clark.
“You are a wonderful relaxant.”
“Relaxant?” Bruce pouted.
“Yes. You bring the excitement, but my nerves are calm with you.” Clark’s fingers combed through his partner’s hair. “I don’t feel stressed with you, Bruce.”
Bruce kissed Clark’s shoulder. “Glad to hear it.”
They both relaxed, falling asleep.
Dick worked with Barbara, the two of them in perfect synch. Dick was teaching Barbara tricks of the trapeze, and she was a natural.
“Good flip,” he praised as he swung off the net onto the floor.
“Thanks.” Barbara wiped herself down with a towel.
“You’ve really got a talent for flying.”
“Speaking of flying, how about Batwoman? Isn’t she the coolest?”
Dick grinned. “She’s really awesome.”
The children giggled. They decided to quit for the day.
“Where’s Bruce and his Prize?”
“Upstairs.” Dick wiggled his eyebrows.
Barbara laughed. “Well, we’ll leave them to it.”
Dick grinned. “Want some cookies?” He sniffed. “Alfred’s made a fresh batch of chocolate chip.”
They toweled down and went upstairs, Dick showering in his private bathroom while Barbara showered in one of the guest room bathrooms. Both tossed on casual clothes and went down to the kitchen, Alfred greeting them with a plate of cookies.
“Lemonade or buttermilk, Miss Barbara?”
“Lemonade, please, Alfred.”
Dick and Barbara sat at the kitchen table, chattering and eating against the backdrop of classical music drifting out from the radio on the counter.
“Sit with us, Alfred,” Dick asked.
“I believe I shall.” He sat down and bit into a cookie. “Mmm, quite good, if I do say so myself.”
“Agreed.” Barbara took another warm cookie.
“You’re quite candid, Miss Barbara.”
“Just a fan, Alfred.”
The butler smiled.
The music stopped and the announcer said, “Breaking news. A riot has broken out at the Gotham Courthouse. Protesters are attempting to enter the building.”
“Another riot?” Dick exclaimed. “Don’t they ever give up?”
“Darn, the Mayor will be on Dad if there’s more trouble.”
“You’d think after Green Lantern took care of things, they’d have learned their lesson.”
“I’m afraid fanaticism doesn’t learn many lessons,” Alfred observed.
“Maybe Batwoman will show up this time.” Barbara’s eyes sparkled.
“Ha! You like her because she’s a redhead,” Dick smirked.
“Why not?” Barbara grinned.
“There’s not even the trial in session today.” Alfred frowned.
“The pro-slavery nuts can cry and scream all they want. Kathy Kane will get Old Man Caldwell convicted.” Dick bit into another cookie.
“She’s a smart woman.” Barbara nodded definitively.
Alfred glanced at the clock. “The post should have been delivered by now.” He started to rise.
“I’ll get it, Alfred.”
Dick popped up and dashed to the foyer. Most mail was electronically delivered, but there were still paper documents that were necessary.
Dick went out to the mailbox and gathered a handful of papers. He glanced at the stack. Quickly sorting, he was delighted to find a genuine letter. He brought the mail to the study and put the letter on top, returning to the kitchen.
Bruce smiled, kissing Clark on the lips. “You always taste so good.”
Clark’s eyes sparkled as he brushed the hair back from Bruce’s eyes. “I can say the same.”
Bruce grasped his hand and kissed the palm.
They settled together under the covers, Bruce sobering as he sighed, “I have to see Dr. Allston.”
“Are you sick?”
Bruce shook his head. “I need to find out if his security was compromised at the lab. Dick’s blood sample was supposed to be under lock-and-key. It should have been altered or destroyed, and yet someone found out about his Romany heritage.” He frowned. “I can’t let this get ahead of us. The trial is important, but Dick is more important.”
Worry clouded Clark’s eyes. “Bruce…”
“We’ll protect Dick. He will not be executed for just being who he is.”
Clark swallowed and nodded.
After resting for awhile, Bruce got out of bed and put on his robe, heading downstairs to his study.
He saw the mail stacked on his desk. He reached for it, freezing as he saw the envelope on top of the pile: pale yellow, inked in blue. The handwriting was scrawled, the same as the last letter.
He carefully slit the envelope open.
Leave five million dollars in unmarked bills in a suitcase and stow it in the old oak in St. Angus Cemetery. Leave it tomorrow at midnight.
If there are police or anyone nearby, I send the evidence that will see your slave executed under the Roma Hunt Decree.
Bruce felt ice spread along his limbs. He put the note down and picked up his cellphone.
“Dr. Allston, I know that you had to cancel our last meeting, but I really need to see you. Call me back immediately.”
Bruce locked away the note in a desk drawer and headed back upstairs, pausing on the staircase. Dick’s happy laughter spilled out of the kitchen. His fingers tightened on the balustrade, then he continued up the stairs.