Fic: Come Fly With Me
Title: Come Fly With Me
Pairings/Characters: Bruce/Clark
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own them, blah blah...
Summary: Flight (with a little bit of super-hearing). Part of the Strengths series.
Word Count: 850
Bruce stood in the Batcave, adjusting his cape and cowl. Glancing at the clock on the Batcomputer, he hurried to the plane, not wanting to be late.
With their dual lives, he and Clark were both very busy, but they made it a point to have a special dinner together at least once a month. This time Clark was cooking and they were eating in the Fortress.
Bruce allowed himself a small smile when he saw the beautiful dark blue sweater and black slacks that Alfred had folded lovingly and left in the backseat of the plane for him. Just because Bruce Wayne couldn’t very well fly to the Fortress of Solitude didn’t mean he couldn’t take off the uniform and slip into proper romantic dinner attire once he was safely inside.
He heard a beeping in his ear and pressed the communicator lightly.
“Hi, B. Are you almost ready?”
Bruce smiled. He could hear the grin in Clark’s voice.
“Yes, I’m about to get into the plane now.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’ll pick you up.”
“No, I don’t need you to-”
There was a gust of wind, a flash of red and blue, and then a grinning Kryptonian standing in front of him.
Bruce scowled at him. “I hate it when you do that.”
“Well, like I told you Bruce, the second you stop doing your ‘I’m Batman and I disappear into the shadows in the middle of conversations’ thing, I’ll stop.”
“Touché, Kent. Touché.”
“Well, shall we go?” Clark asked, holding out his arm. Bruce quickly grabbed his evening clothes, slipped his shoulder under the outstretched arm, and then slipped his own arm across Clark’s back.
Even though he knew Clark was flying a bit slower for his benefit, the first moments of flight always jarred his senses. Jumping off of a Gotham rooftop was one thing, but to actually be in flight like this was nothing short of exhilarating. And seeing Clark in flight… he often thought it not possible for the man to seem even more beautiful, but moments like this always proved him wrong.
As the cold wind whipped at their capes, Clark grinned at Bruce and pulled him closer. Bruce scowled at him, but he leaned into the embrace.
It was a sort of game they played; Clark grinning because he obviously enjoyed it, Bruce scowling and pretending that he didn’t. He rarely let Clark fly him anywhere unless it was absolutely necessary. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy it, but rather that he enjoyed it a little too much. It made him forget. It made him relax his carefully-constructed sense of control.
Suddenly, Clark dipped and turned in the air, beginning their descent and pulling Bruce out of his reverie. And despite himself, Bruce’s heart raced as he resisted the urge to smile and laugh out loud.
Snow began to fall as they reached the Fortress, little specks of white on black and blue and red.
Clark pressed his hand against what appeared to be a simple ice wall, but was really part of the Fortress’ complex defense system. A glowing light formed around his hand as it read his DNA and then allowed them entry. He reached for Bruce’s hand and led them inside.
“I’m going to go finish up dinner. You can go ahead and get changed.”
Bruce headed off to the bedroom to do just that. When he returned, he found Clark sitting at a beautifully made table for two. He was clad in red and black Kryptonian robes.
They smiled at each other from across the room, eyes filled the promise of the evening to come. Bruce sat down and they began to eat, enjoying the delicious food and each other’s company.
“This chicken is delicious,” Bruce said as he took another bite.
“Thanks,” Clark said, “I got the recipe from Alfred. I’ll have to thank him when I fly you back to Gotham tomorrow.”
“No. I’ll put the plane on auto-pilot and have it come pick me up. And for the record, I was perfectly capable of flying myself here tonight.”
“Yes, but you wouldn’t have had nearly as much fun,” Clark said, smiling.
Bruce scoffed.
“Oh come on, Bruce. Just because you don’t grin from ear to ear like Dick used to doesn’t mean you don’t enjoy it,” Clark teased. “I can hear the change in your breath and your heart rate. You’re usually the master of masking them, but when we fly together, you can’t quite keep it together, can you? Just like when we - ”
“Enough.” Bruce rose and reached for his lover’s hand.
“I can see that your mind is clearly in the gutter. So why don’t we retire to the bedroom and find out just how much control I have.”
Clark’s eyes twinkled. “Why don’t we then?”
They walked off towards the bedroom to complete their special evening. In the morning, after a leisurely breakfast, Clark would fly Bruce back to Gotham.
Bruce might never admit it out loud, but he was looking forward to it.
Pairings/Characters: Bruce/Clark
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own them, blah blah...
Summary: Flight (with a little bit of super-hearing). Part of the Strengths series.
Word Count: 850
Bruce stood in the Batcave, adjusting his cape and cowl. Glancing at the clock on the Batcomputer, he hurried to the plane, not wanting to be late.
With their dual lives, he and Clark were both very busy, but they made it a point to have a special dinner together at least once a month. This time Clark was cooking and they were eating in the Fortress.
Bruce allowed himself a small smile when he saw the beautiful dark blue sweater and black slacks that Alfred had folded lovingly and left in the backseat of the plane for him. Just because Bruce Wayne couldn’t very well fly to the Fortress of Solitude didn’t mean he couldn’t take off the uniform and slip into proper romantic dinner attire once he was safely inside.
He heard a beeping in his ear and pressed the communicator lightly.
“Hi, B. Are you almost ready?”
Bruce smiled. He could hear the grin in Clark’s voice.
“Yes, I’m about to get into the plane now.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’ll pick you up.”
“No, I don’t need you to-”
There was a gust of wind, a flash of red and blue, and then a grinning Kryptonian standing in front of him.
Bruce scowled at him. “I hate it when you do that.”
“Well, like I told you Bruce, the second you stop doing your ‘I’m Batman and I disappear into the shadows in the middle of conversations’ thing, I’ll stop.”
“Touché, Kent. Touché.”
“Well, shall we go?” Clark asked, holding out his arm. Bruce quickly grabbed his evening clothes, slipped his shoulder under the outstretched arm, and then slipped his own arm across Clark’s back.
Even though he knew Clark was flying a bit slower for his benefit, the first moments of flight always jarred his senses. Jumping off of a Gotham rooftop was one thing, but to actually be in flight like this was nothing short of exhilarating. And seeing Clark in flight… he often thought it not possible for the man to seem even more beautiful, but moments like this always proved him wrong.
As the cold wind whipped at their capes, Clark grinned at Bruce and pulled him closer. Bruce scowled at him, but he leaned into the embrace.
It was a sort of game they played; Clark grinning because he obviously enjoyed it, Bruce scowling and pretending that he didn’t. He rarely let Clark fly him anywhere unless it was absolutely necessary. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy it, but rather that he enjoyed it a little too much. It made him forget. It made him relax his carefully-constructed sense of control.
Suddenly, Clark dipped and turned in the air, beginning their descent and pulling Bruce out of his reverie. And despite himself, Bruce’s heart raced as he resisted the urge to smile and laugh out loud.
Snow began to fall as they reached the Fortress, little specks of white on black and blue and red.
Clark pressed his hand against what appeared to be a simple ice wall, but was really part of the Fortress’ complex defense system. A glowing light formed around his hand as it read his DNA and then allowed them entry. He reached for Bruce’s hand and led them inside.
“I’m going to go finish up dinner. You can go ahead and get changed.”
Bruce headed off to the bedroom to do just that. When he returned, he found Clark sitting at a beautifully made table for two. He was clad in red and black Kryptonian robes.
They smiled at each other from across the room, eyes filled the promise of the evening to come. Bruce sat down and they began to eat, enjoying the delicious food and each other’s company.
“This chicken is delicious,” Bruce said as he took another bite.
“Thanks,” Clark said, “I got the recipe from Alfred. I’ll have to thank him when I fly you back to Gotham tomorrow.”
“No. I’ll put the plane on auto-pilot and have it come pick me up. And for the record, I was perfectly capable of flying myself here tonight.”
“Yes, but you wouldn’t have had nearly as much fun,” Clark said, smiling.
Bruce scoffed.
“Oh come on, Bruce. Just because you don’t grin from ear to ear like Dick used to doesn’t mean you don’t enjoy it,” Clark teased. “I can hear the change in your breath and your heart rate. You’re usually the master of masking them, but when we fly together, you can’t quite keep it together, can you? Just like when we - ”
“Enough.” Bruce rose and reached for his lover’s hand.
“I can see that your mind is clearly in the gutter. So why don’t we retire to the bedroom and find out just how much control I have.”
Clark’s eyes twinkled. “Why don’t we then?”
They walked off towards the bedroom to complete their special evening. In the morning, after a leisurely breakfast, Clark would fly Bruce back to Gotham.
Bruce might never admit it out loud, but he was looking forward to it.