To Kiss a God

Chapter Eleven: Antithesis

Lol, finally wrote another chapter and when I counted last, Oliver won 💚

"Well, well, well" Oliver said, a sardonic smirk writhing on his lips. A pleasant expression was painted over his handsome face but his eyes were cold as he assessed the room. His sharp blue eyes flickering from Bruce's crumpled suit, then deliberately to Clark's state of undress.
"I'm happy we're all so focused at the task at hand."
Clark blushed, hastily rushing to don his discarded clothes. Bruce simply met Oliver's gaze, the warning in his stare conveyed perfectly.
Back the fuck off, Oliver.
Oliver broke first, turning to the complimentary bottle of wine waiting on a small coffee bean brown table, his back abruptly turned to them. He twisted the bottle open with a sharp pop while Bruce finished dressing.
Clark watched Oliver take a swig, purple staining the corner of his mouth.
"I fuckin hate Merlot."
"Is there a particular reason you barged in here?" Bruce inquired cooly, his long calloused fingers working an obsidian silk tie around his neck. He was staring into a floor length ornate mirror on the wall, his powerful back to Oliver and Clark.

Oliver's eyes were on Bruce's back,
"Diana says she spotted a women fitting the description of Queen Bee making her way toward the Shvliar Building." Oliver eyes slid to Clark, almost competitively.
"Did she have any attendants with her?"
"Six, including the ones we spotted at the party."
Clark wondered if he should say something but decided to keep his mouth as Oliver tossed the half-empty bottle back on the table. It landed with a clack.
"Well," Bruce said, turning to face them "let's go stop a multimillion  dollar arms deal."
Nothing about him looked like he had been laid bare just a few moments before. His suit looked almost immaculate and critically inspected himself in the mirror before running his fingers through his dark hair, matching Oliver's artfully messy style.

Oliver who stood opposite to Bruce, leaned back against a lilac lovers seat, his body tense. He had gained a rosy flush and his fingers clenched around a pen.

"Is there a problem, Oliver?" Bruce looked unforgiving. Oliver let out a loose, wild laugh. Clark could hear his heartbeat accelerate, and he couldn't help but wince.
"No, no problem." The insincerity couldn't have been more obvious.

"Then feel free to lead the way."

Clark shifted uncomfortably and slid up from the chair, his leather dress shoes laced. He had no idea what to make of the situation. He had assumed that Bruce and Oliver weren't together when Bruce had practically professed his love to him. But here Oliver was, acting like a jealous lover, and Bruce hadn't looked at Clark since he had come in. Uneasiness and insecurities oozed through his gut like thick Azalea's honey.

They hadn't made any plans, or promises. What was to stop Bruce to going right back to how it had been before? From going back to who he had been with before. Clark followed behind them as Oliver led the way. The glossy black siding along the walls reflected his face, nervous and uneasy. He twisted his fingers in abstract patterns, wondering if Bruce and Oliver were actually together and he had just had an affair. It would certainly explain Oliver's rigid shoulders and Bruce's stoic expression.

He took a deep breath as they rounded a narrow hallway to enter the library. It was empty and lit poorly by lamps along a cathedral like ceiling. Clark ran a finger along a book spine while Bruce and Oliver went to the windows. The library was the closest room of the main house to the Shivliar Building. The windows providing ample ways to watch the garden while not being watched by cameras. Clark studied the glass ceiling above them, wondering how they were going to spy on the meeting without being seen.

He had read the reports. The Shivilar building had no windows and was heavily insulted. He recalled it having been a steel or rubber factory before it had been reformed, the muddy red brick siding encased the outside like dried blood was one of the few garish things left on the premise.

Inside, the walls were lined with lead and iron, complete with a lead lined ceiling. They had even put heavy sound conductors and static makers on every side of the building.
It all accumulated into a building that was perfect for keeping the Justice League in the dark, metaphorically, because huge strobe lights had been installed to the side of the building. He flicked off his X-ray vision, glancing to the others.

On their knees, Oliver and Bruce were staring through a scope.
"Three henchmen by the front entrance," said Bruce, his voice cold and calculating. Clark watched Oliver take a look through the scope, his shoulder bumping into Bruce's.
"Two snipers on the greenhouse."
He sounded strained, reaching into his jacket to pull out a jagged knife.

There were at least seventeen guards patrolling the garden and four lookouts on the roof.

"Six guards at the back entrance." Clark decided to say, knowing they couldn't see it. Oliver jerked his head to look back at him, his various shades of blonde hair mussed. He may have been across the room but Clark didn't miss the brief flicker of animosity in his gaze.
"Can you hear anything through the walls?"
"No," Clark and Bruce answered simultaneously. Oliver frowned,
"I wasn't sure if you would be able to hear through the static disruption."

It was Bruce who answered,
"I tried using my equipment to monitor the area last week and I was unable to penetrate the static." He was attaching something to his belt, "I modeled my equipment after Clark's auditory system."

That was news to Clark.

"So what's the plan then?" Oliver asked flatly, casually pulling a piece of metal from his back, it extended into a bow.
"Any of us could take these guys out in our sleep but discreetly taking them out is another thing."  Oliver grumbled, eyes still on the garden.
Bruce slowly pulled a lighter from his pocket, casually waved it in front of the window, and slid it back into his jacket as if nothing happened.
"Discretion is optional," he mused, "I'll create a suitable distraction then you, Clark, and Diana, get close enough to identify the buyer and stop the deal."
"How will Diana know-" Oliver started as the library doors flew open to reveal Diana. She strode confidently to where they crouched, crimson dress flying around her elegantly
"What's the plan?" She asked, gracefully folding her legs so she was at their level.
"Bruce will distract. We'll take out the guards and stop the deal," Clark flatly said.

"Lets go."