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My Pure, Innocent, Children, aka How to Keep Your Teenage Son a Virgin - A Parenting Guide by Bruce Wayne

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Alfred loved having a full house. With the Kent Farm undergoing renovations due to a freak hailstorm, Jason, Roy, and Kori's apartment having burned down because, well, Gotham, and Wally coming over to help run forensic analysis on some samples, Wayne Manor was full to the brim. Everyone was generally happy, had paired off with bunkmates, and all seemed to be well.

Reality was a cruel mistress, though.

Currently, Reality had tied Bruce down and was whipping him with his own belt, in a scene straight out of "Mistress Aurora: Dominatrix Extraordinaire - The Spanking".

Bruce frowned, remembering to have a word with Jason about watching pornography in the house.

The Dark Knight and his brood had just returned from their nightly patrol, and most of them had retired for the night, leaving Bruce to brood alone in the cave. He pored over the floor plan of the manor and flinched, considering the rooming arrangements.

Mr and Mrs Kent were in the guest bedroom, Alfred in his own quarters, while Clark was taking up precious oxygen and space in Bruce's room. This left his children and their roommates.

Dick was rooming with Wally, whom he was probably having sex with.

Jason was rooming with Roy and Kori, both of whom he was definitely having sex with. Bruce shuddered, remembering the groans and moans as he walked in on Kori and Jason tag teaming a very naked Roy.

Jon was away at space camp, which meant that Damian was alone, and being ten years old, was most certainly not going to have sex for at least another decade, not if Bruce had anything to do with it.

That left Tim, who was rooming with Connor, where the possibility of sex was most certainly on the table. Dick and Jason were adults, and were thus beyond Bruce's considerable parental authority, but Tim was sixteen, and still within his power. Bruce growled, thinking of the times that he had caught the half-Kryptonian horndog eyeing his delicate, unsullied, Tim like he was a piece of juicy meat. Bruce leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily, trying to formulate a plan to keep his third son pure and free of Kryptonian spunk.

Just then, Damian pottered into the cave, clad in the pinstriped pajamas and nightcap, complete with pompom, that Alfred insisted on for all "young gentlemen of proper standing, Master Damian. It will not do to wander down the hallways in the morning dressed in...underwear," he had said, shuddering at the last word and glaring at Dick and Tim, who had ambled in in their undershirts. Bruce considered his son for a second before reaching down to scoop his youngest into his lap.

Damian fidgeted angrily, but settled down. "Enjoy this while you can, Father. I'll be a hulking teenager before you know it," he declared bitterly. Bruce grinned, reveling in the feeling of having a child small enough to cuddle.

"It doesn't matter. Once you're grown, I'll just get another child," Bruce teased.


"Just kidding," Bruce said flippantly. "Dick or Jason would have spawned or procured a grandchild for me by then," he said, hope coloring his words.

"I would place my money on Todd," Damian snorted. "There is a female in his relationship. Grayson is fornicating with another man."

Bruce frowned, his mood crashing like a blimp with a puncture. "Speaking of your fornicating brothers, I need you to go on a mission," he said. "I hope you won't refuse me," Bruce hummed, petting Damian's head, causing the boy to purr contentedly and nuzzle closer to his father.

"Name it," he said happily.

"We have to protect your brother."

"Grayson is in danger?" Damian gasped, jumping to attention.

"No," Bruce shook his head. "Tim."

"Tt. What about him?"

"Conner Kent is showing a...less than savory interest in Tim. We need to make sure that nothing...sexual happens between them."

"I thought that people enjoyed such things," Damian mused. "Todd is always moaning or groaning when he does it with his two partners."

Bruce panicked. "That's's groaning because he's in pain," Bruce improvised.

Damian lapsed into quiet thought before sitting up. "That means Grayson is being hurt as well!" He cried. "I've heard him scream!"

Bruce felt his soul shrivel at the information on his sons' sex lives. "Yes, yes, he is. We have to save Tim from the same fate before he gets drawn into it as well."

"And then we can save Grayson?" Damian asked.

"Yes, yes, then we can save Dick," Bruce agreed hurriedly, noticing the clock striking 4:00am. Almost bedtime for Tim. "Let's go."

"But Father, what about a plan?" Damian asked, as Bruce tucked him under his arm as they made their way up to the manor.

"Don't worry," Bruce smirked. "I have a plan."


"Goodnight, Kon."

"Goodnight, Tim," Kon replied genially, rolling into Tim's bed. He eyed Tim as he did the same, his heart speeding up at the sliver of exposed ankle as Tim got into bed. "You know-"

Kon's next words were cut off as Bruce barged into the room, carrying Damian on his hip. "Ah, good, you're still awake," he said, smiling at Tim. "The roof of Damian's room is leaking," he said, dropping Damian onto the bed, between Kon and Tim. "He'll be staying with you for the night."

"Um..." Tim said, eyeing the scowling boy, "why us? Why not Dick? He's his favorite brother."


"Come again?"

"Grayson is my favorite person. That he is my brother is a bonus."

"Right..." Tim trailed off slowly, and looked back up at Bruce. "So, why can't he stay with Dick?"

"Dick is rooming with Wally," Bruce informed him. "I don't want Damian to witness any...unsavory action."

Kon gulped. "What about Jason?" He asked, as Tim nodded frantically at the suggestion.

Bruce simply *looked* at the pair, who mumbled something along the lines of, yes Mr. Wayne, we're sorry for our stupidity, of course you know best.

"Wait, what about you!?" Tim asked, pointing accusingly at Bruce.

"Clark takes up a lot of space," Bruce grumbled. "I don't want Damian being crushed by one of his SuperLimbs."

"Ma and Pa?" Kon asked in his Smallville drawl, making it sound like "Maw and Paw". Bruce shuddered at the hickness, and glared at Kon.

"They're probably doing it too," he said vindictively, watching Kon shrivel into a husk of his former self, thinking about his parents doing the do. "That leaves the two of you, and I know that you won't be engaging in any, ahem, adult activities," Bruce said menacingly, glaring at Kon, who shivered under the full intensity of the Batglare. Tim didn't reply, having been watching bemusedly as Damian crawled in between Kon and himself, and pulling the covers around him. Bruce smiled at his youngest, and patted him on the head. "Goodnight, Damian, Tim."

"Goodnight, Father," Damian replied. "Goodnight, Drake, Clone," he added, nodding to either of them in turn, before lying ramrod straight and closing his eyes, looking not unlike a tiny Dracula in his coffin.

Tim allowed Bruce to ruffle his hair before going to sleep himself, leaving Kon and Bruce the only ones awake. "Goodnight, Kon-El," Bruce whispered menacingly. Somehow, he timed the words so that he spoke just as lightning flashed outside, bathing the dark room in harsh, white, light, which illuminated only a sliver of Bruce's face.

His menacing, evil, bat-like, face.

Kon ducked underneath the covers in fright, and Bruce went back to his own quarters with a serene smile adorning his face.


Breakfast was a raucous affair the next morning. Bruce had shown up with a lovely shiner on his eye, courtesy of Clark, who had flailed about in his sleep. The Man of Steel kept looking at his friend with guilty cow-eyes, like a dog that knew that it had deposited a doodoo on the Persian carpet, which was likely where Clark would be sleeping later that night.

Having successfully preserved Tim's virginity, Damian had shifted his focus to saving his favorite brother from the clutches of the evil redheads speedster, and was shooting poisonous looks at a confused Wally from where he was situated on Dick's lap. Dick was oblivious to all of this, of course, and cuddled and fed Damian jam sandwiches with not a care in the world.

Kon was doing his level best to avoid looking at Bruce, while simultaneously trying to catch Tim's eye, the latter of whom only had eyes for his coffee. Kon settled for watching Tim's blessed out expression through the haze of steam rising from the coffee, thinking that the younger boy looked like a caffeinated angel.

Just as Bruce was contemplating breaking his Code and committing murder, Roy and Kori ambled in, with Jason in Kori's arms, bridal style. Roy hurried about setting out a cushion which Kori gingerly placed Jason on, before tousling his hair and floating away. Jason shifted slightly and winced, and turned to grin at Dick, who was looking at him bemusedly. "Do you need me to have a word with Roy?" He asked seriously.

"Don't bother, it's a good hurt," Jason groaned. "If you need to talk to anyone, talk to Kori. Tamaranean physiology is pretty amazing. All kinds of surprises under there."

Dick burst into nervous giggles as Bruce blanched. Clark gasped and clutched his pearls like the maiden that he was, and Tim didn't register anything, not having gotten through his first coffee of the day.

Damian clicked his tongue in annoyance before wriggling off of Dick's lap and stalking away, grumbling about masochistic fools who reveled in pain. "Just don't let your injury affect your performance on patrol, Todd," he scowled. "I'm going to go and call Jon. He's the only one who may have retained his brain cells." Damian walked away, but paused at the door and turned around, leveling a cold glare at Wally. "And don't you try anything, West," he growled. "I'm watching you." Having said his bit, Damian flounced off to go and talk to his friend.

Wally sat quaking in his seat, while Dick tried to get him out of his stupor. Bruce grinned after Damian and sat back, happy that for the time being, all his children were happy and accounted for. Suddenly, a thought hit him, and Bruce sat upright. "Where is Cassandra?"

"Miss Stephanie came by this morning intending to treat Miss Casandra to breakfast," Alfred supplied, while tipping six eggs onto Bruce's plate.

"Ah," Bruce breathed, relaxing once more. "Nothing like a good, friendly, breakfast to strengthen a bond. Where did they say they were going?"

"They have balcony seats at The Kiss Kiss Café," Alfred replied, with just a twitch of his moustache. "I believe that Miss Stephanie has similar views of strengthening and forging new relationships as you, Master Bruce. After all, what better way to the heart than through the stomach?"

Bruce sat stunned, cursing the purple menace that frequented his house. "...and Cassandra?"

"Well, Miss Cassandra does love her pancakes," Alfred said mildly.

Bruce's subsequent rage fest could be heard all the way across Gotham.