Chapter Text
With a roaring engine, the batmobile sped down winding roads and into the batcave. On the platform, Bruce deftly hopped out and stomped towards the computer to log his report, taking off his cowl as he walked. After the report, he’d take a quick shower, wait for Damian, Tim, Cass and Duke to return, and then he’d go up to bed for another sleepless night without Clark.
Clark had been gone for almost a month now, on a space mission with the Lanterns. Soon, he’d run out of vacation days at the Daily Planet, and Bruce would run out of patience. Stupid, stupid, stupid space mission. Bruce was weak. He couldn’t even sleep without Clark next to him in bed anymore. Clark practically lived at the manor now, missing barely any night to spoon Bruce until he slept, keeping the nightmares at bay. Bruce rubbed at his eyes, exhausted, and not looking forward to another night of tossing and turning. This was exactly what he’d meant when he told Clark a relationship would make him weak. He couldn’t even do something as simple as sleeping on his own anymore.
Not to mention the constant worry about his boyfriend when he was away like this. Updates had ceased when they left the solar system’s section of space, which was to be expected and nothing to worry about in and of itself, but anything could happen out there. Estimated mission and traveling time had been three weeks. They should have been back already. For the past 5 days, Bruce had checked every monitor and sensor he could, waiting for a sign and ignoring the worrisome pit in his stomach.
And on top of all that, he missed Clark. That’s what made him weakest. He was easily distracted, thinking about Clark’s arms, his thighs, his hips, his lips, his smile, his eyes. His everything, really.
And god, he needed to get laid. He’d promised Clark not to touch himself while he was gone, so that the reunion sex would be earth shattering phenomenal. But now, he was starting to think it was a stupid promise, made in the throes of passion when Clark had whispered so sweetly into his ear, while stroking his cock and vibrating a finger against his prostate. That stupid promise had been his true weakness.
All these thoughts had made Bruce’s blood rush south, and his cock was straining uncomfortably in the cup of his suit. That shower was going to have to be a cold shower again. He filed the rest of his patrol report haphazardly and saved it. Nothing of note had happened anyway. Then he made his way over to the showers, undressing as he went to get out of his constricting armor and undersuit. He dropped his belt on the work bench, boots underneath it, cape on the floor, and the rest of his suit in the change room adjacent to the showers. Finally, he sat down to take off his socks. His briefs were tenting, and hissing, he pressed his palm against his erection, trying to will it away.
“Stupid fucking promise,” he mumbled.
“What promise? I hope you don’t think that of any promise you made me.”
Bruce whipped his head up so fast it could have easily resulted in whiplash. There he was. There he fucking stood, in the door to the change rooms and the showers with his bright smile and his red cape and – “Clark!” Bruce yelped, and - damn his reputation - jumped into his boyfriend’s arms. He didn’t care. No one was home, Alfred was asleep, and Clark was in his arms. And he was in Clark’s.
“Hi,” Clark said in the inches between them. “You didn’t hear me coming? I flew straight here when we entered the solar system. Hal and Guy are gonna tease me about that for days if not months by the way.”
“I was distracted,” Bruce said between kisses on Clark’s cheeks and chin and nose. His crotch rubbed against Clark’s hips, putting more agonizing strain on his boner. Surely Clark understood exactly what he was to do.
But Clark made no inclination to speed things along. He smiled, looking into Bruce’s eyes. “With what?”
“Thinking about you…promise… made me weak.” Bruce admitted. At that, he definitely felt Clark’s cock stir to life, even through the kryptonian fabric of his suit. “Fuck me, now. Shower. Sex.”
Clark gripped his chin with one hand possessively to kiss him deeply. “Yes,” he practically growled. He undressed quickly, stripped Bruce of his final item of clothing, and kissed him against the cool tiles until the spray was hot enough to step under.
“I missed you so,” Clark licked, breathed, whispered into his ear. “So much.”
“I missed you too,” Bruce said, closing his eyes. “Too much.” He took Clark’s cock in hand behind himself, pushing it against his crack. It was a glorious cock. So big, it mads Bruce scream every time, and he was planning to ride it all night. Clark pushed languidly, running his tip slowly along the cleft of Bruce’s ass as he whispered filthy things into his ear.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby. That promise was worth it.”
Clark always liked to take his time, even if that didn’t really fit with their demanding lifestyles. But they had all night tonight. At least, Bruce wasn’t planning on sleeping much anymore. So they could go multiple rounds. And he really wanted to cum right now. So he turned around and crushed his mouth to Clark’s, pushing him back against the tiles. He took both their cocks in hand, stroking with more intent, wringing moan after moan out of Clark.
“Bruce…” Clark kissed his neck, making Bruce whimper pathetically and stutter his movements. “Let me, baby. You close?”
Bruce nodded. He was ready to burst. Clark took his cock in hand, and guided Bruce's hand to take Clark’s, so they could jerk each other off.
“Wanna cum with you,” Bruce warned Clark against vibrating his hand along Bruce's shaft. They stroked at human pace, panting, working up, and –
Multiple roaring engines sounded through the cave expanse, quickly coming closer. “Shit,” Clark breathed. He pushed Bruce back a little, hands at his shoulders, halting his movements.
“They won’t come in here when they hear the shower.” Bruce continued feeling Clark up, but Clark shook his head.
“You better… we better get out there.” There was fear in his eyes, too much of it, and Bruce’s stomach twisted with the same worry he’d felt for Clark the entire past month.
“Dad– Bruce!” That was Tim’s voice, panicked, scared. He never called Bruce that. From the gust of air next to him, he knew Clark had supersped past him, into his suit, into the cave. Bruce yanked a towel from a shelf and wrapped it around his hips, stepping into the change rooms.
“Tim?” he yelled, running over to the boy and cupping his cheeks. “What’s wrong?”
“Not me. It’s Damian. He got shot.”
Bruce’s vision went white, his throat dry. He ran out into the cave, where Clark had already helped Duke and Cass get Damian onto a cot. His shoulder had been wrapped into a torn piece of fabric - most likely from one of their capes. “What happened?” He placed a hand on his son’s forehead. His eyes were closed, his breathing ragged. He turned to Clark. “Go wake up Alfred!”
Clark nodded, and shot up.
“He was breaking up a fight. One guy had a gun and got lucky,” Tim explained as he moved around, setting up antiseptic, gauze, tweezers, and everything else they'd need. He was trained well, remaining calm enough to rattle down the specifics of the location, the perpetrator - who Duke and Cass had already dealt with - and where exactly the bullet had entered. But his hands betrayed his nerves and fear.
“That's not like Damian to let someone surprise him,” Bruce said. He could barely hide the tremor in his voice.
“It was my fault,” Duke said with guilt. “I made a mistake and distracted him.”
“Not your fault.” Cass touched her brother’s arm. Bruce pushes the thoughts of training and teamwork and reliability to the back of his mind for now, focusing on what was most important in the moment. He stroked Damian’s hair out of his face, feeling his temperature rising.
A few minutes later, Alfred came rushing down the stairs dressed in his sleepwear and robe. Clark zipped back as well, helping Alfred get ready.
“Do not worry, sir,” Alfred said, snapping on a pair of gloves. “I have extensive experience removing bullets. How many are there?”
“One. I can see it,” Clark announced.
“Then what are you waiting for,” Bruce nearly growled. He removed the bandage from his son’s shoulder to give Clark access and held his arm to steady it. Alfred handed clean tweezers to Clark. In record time, Clark got the bullet out, depositing it in a tray, and Alfred cleaned the wound before stitching up.
“Father?” Damian croaked weakly. “I’m sorry.”
“Shhh. I’m here,” he called, holding his son's hand. He shivered. It turned out, when adrenaline left your body, the batcave was in fact quite cold dressed in just a towel.
After a while, and on pain meds, Damian was asleep and Bruce was dressed in a spare set of sweatpants and t-shirt he kept down in the cave. He carried Damian up the stairs to his room, pressing the child against his chest the entire way to make sure he was okay. The others followed, going to sleep in their own bedrooms. As Bruce walked into Damian's room, Clark lingered by the door.
“Hey, B,” Clark started. Bruce knew that tone.
Bruce tucked Damian in under the blanket, still stroking down his hair. He just wasn’t quite ready to leave him alone yet. Still, he turned around to his boyfriend, who looked very sorry. “Something’s come up in the Pacific. I’ve gotta go help Arthur deal with a kaiju,” he explained, pointing a thumb over his shoulder as if the Pacific ocean was just around the corner. Though to him it pretty much was. Bruce nodded in understanding. In their lives, everything could change at a moment’s notice.
“It’s okay. Go. I think I’m gonna sleep in here tonight.”
Quietly, Clark floated over. “He’ll be fine.”
“I know. It’s still scary.”
“It is.” Clark knelt down, joining Bruce’s hand stroking Damian’s forehead. He kissed the side of Bruce’s head. “I love you,” he said.
“Love you too. Be safe,” Bruce said. Their earth shattering reunion sex could wait, Bruce thought as he got comfortable next to Damian. This was more important.