To Kiss a God

Chapter Three: The Rescue

It took him 30 minutes to reach the warehouse. A combination of the Batmobile and likely the breaking every speed limit from Metropolis to Gotham. The need to get to Clark pounded in his gut. It was an old building from the 60's, complete with a spot adjacent to the docks. His scanner showed that there were heat signatures from 13 individuals. He took the less obvious route into the warehouse and came in through the broken window along the steel skyline. As far as he could discern, the men below him were human and hired mercenaries.

Clark was nowhere to be seen but there was a panel on the center of the floor. He quickly and ruthlessly dispatched of the men and opened the panel along the floor. A singular ladder descended into the ominous darkness. It led to a darkened room highlighted by an almost iniquitous green hue. Climbing down his eyes immediately spotted a massive glass  tank of green liquid, with Clark inside. He was suspended in the liquid, cuts covering his normally flawless body. Bruce swore furiously and with everything he did and lunged for a metal pipe off the ground, desperately trying to get to Clark. He repeatedly slammed it into the tank. Cracks splintered across the glass but it didn't give. One more solid frantic hit and the water exploded, pushing him backwards.

After the tank's contents emptied, Clark lay between the glass and the cement floor, drenched in the liquid. Bruce dropped to his knees, heedless of the glass shards digging into his knees, and pulled him into his arms."God, Clark", he whispered as he stared down at the man. His bare chest was shredded by the glass shards and he was wearing nothing but his stupid striped boxers. He knew Clark didn't need to breathe but that didn't make seeing him stationary and unconscious any more reassuring. The Kryptonian juice had to be washed off his body Bruce decided and he gently picked Clark up. Settling him into his car, he sped to the Wayne Manor. Halfway there, Hal commed, "We've taken care of most of the situation here but there's still a lot of stuff left to do. Have you found Superman?"

"Yes, but he's in critical condition. I'm taking him to the Batcave- I don't know how long he'll be out." Not for the first time he thanked the warping device in his suit so Hal couldn't hear the waver in his voice.

"That's fine, we should be alright here. I'll tell the rest of the team." Good, one less thing to worry about Bruce thought to himself as he stole glances at the unconscious God beside him. He reasoned that Clark's regenerative healing abilities would be restored once the liquid was washed off of him. What concerned him was if he had ingested any of it.

When he arrived at the Cave, the lights automatically flickered on, highlighting his life's work. Alfred was out on errands so he was forced to carry Clark up the stairs to the shower room by himself. If there was one thing Clark had no lack of, it was muscles and Bruce's knees were undoubtedly feeling that. Carefully setting him down on the marble tiles, Bruce flicked on the water and took off his own mask. Clark was still unconscious but water slid down his chiseled jaw, to his rock hard chest, to his soak in his underwear. He was almost beautiful, in the way that only men could be; dark lashes and crystal blue eyes. Bruce stared at his embarrassing boxers for a moment. Red and pale green. It was mid August, why was he wearing Christmas colors- understanding dawned on him and he quickly dragged the boxers down Clark's legs. Lifting up the Kryptonians waist to pull them down. They were tinted green from the Kryptonian liquid, and were probably hindering Clarks regenerative healing, which is why he hadn't woken up in the car. He flung the boxers outside the room and returned his gaze to Clark- who was now completely naked, by Bruce's own doing. The cuts on his chest immediately started to heal- the shards of glass, tinkling, as they were pushed out of the wounds.The alien's dark lashes fluttered open slowly, "Bruce?" Relief and catharsis that he had been holding back for hours rushed through him like adrenaline. He leaned forward and encircled his fingers around Clark's neck.

The water drenching them both completely. "It's me." His eyes were already becoming more alive, he always forgot how quickly the effects of Kryptonite wore off on him. Clark's sky blue eyes flickered to Bruce's face and then down at his own body. He knew it was illogical but he moved closer to the Kryptonian - his knee shifting between Clark's toned legs. Clark lifted his chin and and moved closer. "Bruce" he hissed, this time it was said with more need than question.

And then they were kissing. It was stupid and illogical and pointless because the relationship could never go anywhere beyond the physical but Bruce couldn't help himself. Clark was perfection personified. And perfection had risen to his knees while his hands pulled off pieces of Bruce's suit. It was hard to tell whose tongue was who's with the rate of which they were in each other's mouths. Clark had peeled off his wet shirt and was working on his belt when Bruce was slammed into the tiles on the other side of the room. Forcefully enough that he would probably have tile bruises splattering his back. "Sorry," muttered Clark into his neck. Clark's kisses had gone from soft and tender to passionate and desperate as he pinned Bruce to the wall. His hands vigorously working to remove Bruce's pants while he sucked at the skin on his neck. They were both standing now and he could feel Clark's erection pressing against him.

"God Bruce, do you have any idea how long I've wanted to fucking do this?" He was finally able to get the suit's pants down and he dropped to his knees. Tugging the pants down to his ankles and lifting up one of his legs to undo the boots. The boot dropped with an audible thump and Clark began kissing his way up his legs - starting at his foot and licking up a scar along his tibia. He meticulously began moving higher, pulling himself closer until he was sucking on the flesh inside Bruce's inner thigh. He bit down just enough to leave marks and slid upwards to his navel - tongue tracing over his trembling abdominal muscles. They were both stripped bare their sweaty bodies trembling with every caress. Clark's skin was surprisingly soft as Bruce ran his hands and tongue over it, like velvet steel. "We need to get to a bed.."

Bruce hissed as Clark bit down on the sensitive skin around his neck while his hand wrapped around something further south. "Bed. Clark." He managed to grunt out while Clark began pumping him back and forth at an agonizingly slow pace.They locked eyes - Clark's sky blue focusing on his slate grey. And then they were in Bruce's bedroom, Clark pushing him down on the obsidian silk sheets and crawling on top of him just as fast. His full lips curving into a smirk as he pulled back for a second to admire him. Now it was his turn for impatience. Using his momentum he forced Clark over so he was on top of them both. Clark's smirk transformed into a full fledged grin as he leaned up, flexing his toned abdominal muscles, so that they were at a similar height. "God, that fucking boy scout smile," and Bruce crushed his lips against Clark's; allowing his legs to simultaneously fall to either side of Clark's hips. One arm encircled his head while the other slid down to stroke his erection...

"Damn super speed," was the last coherent thought he had before he was overwhelmed with pleasure.