Chapter Text
TITLE: Partial 1/5
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77 (whiterose)
RATING: Anyone
WORD COUNT: 3,105
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.
SUMMARY: Clark has an unexpected crisis and Bruce must deal with it.
~S~
The metal from the manacles was biting into his already bruised wrists. The tension from hanging from his arms for hours was killing them, and his back. Intense pain wasn’t a new experience for him he’d had worse. He’d been in battles and bled. He’d been powerless before and been hurt. He’d cried in agony as his body had been under attack from particles from his home world. Today wasn’t as bad as any of those but it sure as hell wasn’t a picnic either.
His assailant wasn’t unfamiliar to him he’d faced him before. The last time he’d stolen his powers, Clark had gained a certain cruel satisfaction by seeing his own Achilles heel used against the thief. If the Parasite wanted his powers, he could suffer the drawbacks too. Actually, Clark had believed that dose of Kryptonite had cured Parasite of ever wanting to steal them again, obviously, he had been wrong.
God, he hated this. He hated feeling helpless, waiting for someone to save him. Oh, he knew he would be saved, he had no doubt about that, the question was when. When would he be missed? When would someone find him? How long was he going to be trapped here, with his arms killing him?
He was literally drained, and he was exhausted. As the time passed, he lolled his head against his chest and managed to fall into a fitful asleep. When the door was kicked open with a bang, he woke up with a jerk. He gazed bleary eyed at the doorway and then he grumbled, “Took you long enough.”
His rescuer glowered, “Oh I apologise sincerely.”
Superman rolled his eyes. Then Batman made his way over and then he came to a halt and gazed up at him. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry. Superman huffed, “I’m in pain here.”
He saw a flicker of sympathy in Batman’s gaze, just before he reached up and worked on releasing him from the manacles. He gazed down at him and he told him softly, “Thanks for finding me, B.”
His teammate glanced from the manacle he was working on to his eyes, his lips quirked at the edges and he uttered quietly, “You’re welcome.”
Then Batman released his sore wrists from the manacles. He dropped to the floor, and his legs collapsed from under him from disuse. Batman grasped him and held him up. Superman held on to his shoulders and whispered, “Thanks.”
His best friend asked, “Can you walk?”
He nodded and made a wobbling attempt and they stumbled a few feet. Batman hissed with frustration and then he steadied him and said, “Wait there.”
Then he left the room. A few minutes later, he re-entered dragging a tied up screaming Rudy Jones, who had a new glowing accessory. Batman came to a halt next to Superman and threw him down. Rudy Jones was bawling, “Please for god’s sake, you’re killing me.”
Batman sneered, “You know what to do to make the pain stop.”
Rudy reached out and grasped Superman’s leg, and suddenly he felt the power return to his body. He smiled as he felt like himself again. Then all of a sudden, he felt a severe pain across his chest, he clutched at it and then he lost balance and everything went black.
~B~
Batman watched in dismay as Superman crumpled to the floor. He rushed and grabbed the piece of Kryptonite away from Parasite. He put it away back into its lead lined case in his utility belt. However, Superman didn’t come around. He tensed his jaw. He sneered at the villain, “What the hell have you done?”
Rudy Jones was shaking his head frantically, “I don’t know what’s happening, man. I mean it.”
He cuffed the villain to a pipe nearby. He sent a message for the Parasite to be picked up and be returned to Belle Reve. Then he hauled Superman up and then headed to where he had parked. In the early hours of the morning, he returned to the cave.
~*~
He laid the unconscious form of his friend on a bed in one of the guest rooms. He turned away towards the door and found Alfred at the doorway. He was wearing his pyjamas and tying his robe closed. There was concern in the old man’s eyes as he asked, “Is he alright?”
He smiled grimly and pulled his cowl from his head. He sighed, “I’m not sure yet, he doesn’t seem to be in any danger, he’s just unconscious.”
Alfred glanced at the figure on the bed, “It is unusual for him to lose consciousness…”
“It is. When Parasite returned his powers, it was as if he had been overloaded, and his body couldn’t handle it.” He sighed and walked to the door, “I’m going to get changed, and then I’m going to run some tests and find out what’s going on.”
“Do you think you should let his loved ones know?” Alfred wondered.
Bruce glanced at the bed, and then back to his guardian, “I don’t want to upset his mom unnecessarily. Let’s see what happens.”
They both left the room. Bruce suggested, “It’s still early why don’t you go back to bed.”
Alfred glanced at the grandfather clock in the hall. “It is not that early. I shall get up.”
“You don’t have to.”
“You might need help with him.”
Bruce half smiled, “You’re not going to take no for an answer are you.”
Alfred raised a brow at him and then he made his way back to his bedroom while Bruce went to get changed out of the Batsuit and into a shirt and slacks.
Afterwards he returned to the guest room. He found that Superman was still unconscious. He ran some tests. The results told him nothing. He frowned and wondered out loud, “What’s going on with you Clark?”
He took an inventory of his friend, he didn’t know how long he would be out of it, and so he decided he should make him as comfortable as possible. He reached for a red leather boot and then the other. He unclasped the red cape from his shoulders. He had to drag the material out from under him, but still Superman didn’t stir. Then he studied the blue portion of the uniform. He wasn’t sure how it came apart. It wasn’t a subject that had ever come up during their friendship; they’d discussed many things but never that. Bruce smirked to himself. He imagined bringing the topic up. ‘Oh that’s how you defeated Darkseid that first time, and oh by the way how does your uniform come off, you know just in case I ever have to undress you.’
He leaned over and ran his hands over his friend’s body frisking him. When he found the hidden clasp he murmured, “Oh there you are.”
Then he proceeded to remove the uniform. He glanced over his friend’s naked physique. He wasn’t surprised by the lack of underwear under the tight material because really it would’ve been obvious to anyone looking that his friend never had a visible panty line. For a split second, he considered providing some boxers but then he shook his head at the mad idea.
He covered him with the sheet, tucked him in. He leaned over and whispered, “Wake up soon.”
~*~
Afterwards he entered the kitchen. Alfred glanced up and asked, “Any change?”
“None.” he replied with chagrin.
He caught the look of sympathy from his guardian. He knew Alfred knew how dear Clark was to him. They’d been in so many situations since their first team up. There had been so many times he’d questioned the wisdom of getting close to someone. But the positives outweighed the negatives, and he couldn’t imagine not being friends with Clark anymore. He was reliable, and his motives were doubtlessly good. He took crime fighting seriously enough not to grate Bruce’s nerves but he had a niceness and gentle humour that offset Bruce’s own sombre single mindedness.
What was happening didn’t worry him exactly; he didn’t have enough information to be worried.
He told Alfred, “Will you make me a hot drink please? I’m just going to get some work from downstairs.”
“Of course Master Bruce.” Alfred said, before turning towards the kettle.
~*~
Bruce returned to the guestroom, cup of tea in his hand and some files under his arm. He put his drink down on the small table. He glanced over at his friend and noticed he had changed position on the bed slightly under the sheets. Bruce nodded to himself, ‘that was a good sign’.
He took a seat on a chair in the corner with a view of Clark’s head resting on the pillows. He had a sip of tea and then he began studying some casework, all the while holding his vigil.
~*~
Ten minutes later, there was more discernible movement from the bed. Bruce glanced up and waited, he saw Clark turn his head on the white fluffy pillow. When nothing much else happened Bruce reached for his cooling tea and took another drink. Then he went back to his paperwork.
A few hours later, he heard a soft groan and he glanced up and saw aquamarine eyes gazing at him. Bruce met his gaze. He placed his papers on the table beside him. Those eyes never left him. Bruce asked, “How are you feeling?”
Those eyes continued to gaze at him; they seemed to be weighing him up. Then Clark raised his hand and ran his fingers through his hair ruffling it slightly. Then he smiled at him, “This must be a first, it’s never happened to me before.”
He seemed fine, apart from his odd statement. Bruce sat back in the chair, and crossed his arms and asked, “What’s never happened to you before?”
Clark grinned slowly, and then he replied explaining, “Waking up the next morning and not knowing whose bed I’m in.”
Bruce frowned deeply in response to that statement.
Clark chuckled huskily, “Oh don’t be offended I’m sure you were fantastic.”
Damn he couldn’t believe this situation could go downhill so suddenly. What the hell was Clark thinking and why was he being so flippant about it. He asked, “You don’t know who I am?”
Keen eyes glanced over him, then around the bedroom. Then he smirked, “Did we exchange names?”
Bruce tensed. This was getting worse and worse. Luckily, his whole life was about thinking on his feet, so he played along. He hoped he could get a bearing in this unknown territory. He shrugged nonchalantly, “The introduction might’ve been a bit rushed. I’m Bruce, Bruce Wayne.”
He replied with a flash of a smile, “Kal.”
Shit. He nodded along, he inquired, “Just Kal?”
A slow cocky smile grew on his face and he lay back against the pillows and he curled arm behind his head, showing his upper body off to its best advantage and he met his gaze again, “Yeah just Kal do you need to know anything else?”
This was so strange. In all the time that he and Clark had been friends, he’d never seen an overtly sexualised side to him. But obviously just by the fact that Clark was using a portion of his birth name meant Clark was still there somewhere. Bruce threw a little Brucie at him and chuckled charmingly, “No I don’t need to know, I know everything about you I need to.”
Clark licked his lips and complimented, “You have a nice bedroom Bruce.”
“This isn’t my bedroom, this is a guest room.” He revealed.
Clark rolled his eyes, and smiled and said archly, “Oh you’re one of them.”
“One of whom?” he questioned.
“You’re the kind of man who likes to keep his real life and his desires separate.”
Bruce raised a brow. “If I was one of those I wouldn’t have brought you home with me would I.” he tossed back.
“So I guess your wife is probably away at the moment?” he said condescendingly.
He chuckled, “No I haven’t got a wife.”
“No?”
“I’m not the marrying kind.”
This strange version of his best friend shrugged and distractedly ran his fingers over the cotton sheets. Then something caught his attention and he frowned at his hand. He glanced up and saw him watching. He sat up in bed, the sheets pooling around his waist, his fingers tips caressed his chest. Then Clark slipped out from beneath the sheets. He walked naked across the room brazenly. Although he had been the one who had undressed him, he found himself unsettled by Clark’s self-assurance and brazenness right now.
He observed closely as he sauntered over to the full length mirror. Once face to face with his reflection, Clark ran his hand over his own chest gently again. He swallowed, and then took a deep breath. Then he seemed to start checking himself out, turning and flexing slightly. Then he got in real close and gazed at his face. He reached up and touched a faint smile line next to his eyes. He frowned again. Then through the mirror, he saw him watching again. Then he smiled at him cockily through the reflection, and asked, “You didn’t get enough last night?”
Bruce coughed, he glanced at his watch and he stood up, “I’ll go and get our brunch…”
Clark smiled, “That would be very nice. You know how to look after your…” he glanced around the guest room, he grinned, “…guests.”
He headed for the door and went downstairs.
~*~
He entered the kitchen. He leaned forward against the worktop on his elbows and groaned his frustration. Alfred asked alarmed, “What is the matter, is it bad news?”
He grumbled, “It’s bad, oh shit.” He heard Alfred tsk at his bad language. He glanced up at him, “Sorry, Alfred.”
“What has happened?” his guardian asked.
He pushed himself up. He shook his head wishing he could be in denial. Then he explained, “There’s something wrong with him, he’s acting strange, somehow I don’t know how or in what way, but he’s not Clark.”
Alfred’s eyes widened questioningly.
“He doesn’t know me…”
“Amnesia?” Alfred suggested.
“Maybe but it’s not that straight forward…” he cringed on the word straight, “…he says his name is Kal, not Kal-El just Kal. Alfred he’s like a stranger.”
Alfred gave him a tight smile, and coaxed, “However, he is not a stranger. He is your friend and we will help him work through this won’t we?”
He reflected that tight smile, “You are right Alfred, as always.”
His faithful guardian asked, “So how can I be of assistance?”
Bruce revealed, “I told him I was getting us some brunch.”
“Now that is something I can help you with.”
He reached out and clasped Alfred’s shoulder, “Thanks Alfred.”
“You are welcome Master Bruce.”
As Alfred began cooking, Bruce took a seat at the kitchen table. He really had to think things through. None of the tests had shown anything wrong. As Alfred said it could be amnesia but it was the personality it had revealed which was the concerning thing. He still had the option of calling Mrs Kent, but where would that get him apart from worrying her with no hope in sight so far. No, it was best for all parties to keep the situation contained as much as possible. The question was, how was he going to do that when Clark could fly off any second if he really wanted to do so.
His attention was diverted from his musings when the person who yesterday was his best friend and today was something else entered the kitchen. He complimented, “That food smells great.”
Alfred turned to gaze at him. Both of them were surprised to see Clark wearing some of Bruce’s clothes, a dark blue silk shirt, and black pants. Bruce commented, “You’re wearing my clothes.”
“Well I couldn’t find mine…”
“You went into my closet.”
Clark laughed lowly, “Don’t worry I found my way out again. You have some really nice clothes.” he turned around in a circle, showing off. He drawled, “Don’t you think I look good, Bruce?”
Bruce gazed at him stunned; he didn’t know what to say. Alfred came to his rescue, “You look quite dashing sir.”
Clark smiled widely at Alfred, “Thank you.” He glanced back at Bruce and said, “I like him.”
The funny thing was, Clark really did like Alfred anyway, as Alfred had always been fond of him. Bruce introduced, “Kal this is my butler Alfred. Alfred this is Kal. He’s going to be our guest here for the time being.”
Clark’s gaze darted to him and his eyes glinted at him, “I don’t remember receiving an invitation.”
Bruce murmured, “There are lots of things you don’t remember about last night.”
His best friend’s leering gaze swept over him, “I can’t wait for you to refresh my memory.”
He glanced away and saw Alfred’s reaction to their interactions. He cleared his throat and said, “Breakfast first.”
Clark took a seat, and Bruce went over to Alfred and said quietly, “That’s what I meant earlier.”
Alfred nodded sagely. Then Bruce took a seat at the table, while Alfred served them brunch.
It was a weird experience playing along pretending to be your best friend’s… he didn’t even know what the word for it was. Inviting a man to stay with you, letting him wear your clothes, him flirting with you and believing he was there for some kind of sexual tryst between you…
Clark saw him watching him again, and then this new person this Kal pursed his lips smugly taking pleasure in Bruce’s attention.
…the only name he could up with for it was sugar daddy.
He choked off an almost hysterical laugh at that thought. Clark raised an inquiring eyebrow. This version of Clark that was eating brunch across from him seemed to have no qualms about waking up and spending time with a stranger he assumes picked up somewhere last night. Bruce gave him a Brucie smile. God, it was funny because he’d played the part for certain women in his life quite a few times, but he never would’ve ever believed he’d have to act the part for his best friend.
But if it would keep Clark here until he figured out what had happened to him, he would do it.
To be continued