Fic: Gotham Nocturne, Chapter 2/9 (Music of the Spheres)
Title: Gotham Nocturne: Chapter Two
Pairing: Clark/Bruce
Disclaimer: The boys belong to DC and to each other, but not to me.
Series Notes: Gotham Nocturne is part of The Music of the Spheres, a combined Superman Returns/Batman Begins series. The whole series can be found here.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Jim Gordon has a visitor among the trash cans, and Bruce forgets a very important date.
Word Count: 1700
Jim Gordon lifted the lid from the trash can behind his apartment and dropped the black plastic bag in, startling a few rats.
"What happened at the bank last night?"
Jim was pleased that he hardly flinched at all at the sound of the hoarse, gravely voice. He looked up to see the Batman crouched on a fire escape, peering down at him. He shoved his glasses up on his nose, squinting a little in the dark, painfully aware that it made him look rabbitty. "If my daughter ever notices that Batman is showing up to chat with me every few weeks, I'll never hear the end of it, you know."
One corner of the grim mouth--didn't lift, but looked for a moment as if the possibility of lifting were not entirely out of the question. "The bank," Batman prompted again, patiently.
Jim swung the hand still holding the round metal lid in a vague motion. "Robbery. But you already know that."
"Where were the guards?"
Jim sighed. "They were on duty. A masked man walked in and dropped some firecrackers on the floor. The guards panicked and ran away."
"Ran away. From firecrackers."
"We interviewed them. They said the noise startled them. Well, they said it scared the hell out of them. They couldn't explain it. They dropped their guns and ran away."
A growling noise that sounded more ruminatory than threatening. "And the man just walked in and took the money."
"He didn't bother to blow the safe; he seemed content with the cash that hadn't been locked up yet. Not a very thorough job." Jim replaced the trash can lid with a metallic bang.
"Lygerophobia. Fear of sudden loud noises."
Jim glanced sharply up at the figure above him. "I know. We gave the guards the anti-toxin you came up with last year and it didn't seem to help, although the fear seems to be starting to dissipate now. Seems to last six, seven hours. And yes, the man on the security tapes seemed about the right height and build."
This time the growl was threatening, if not directed at Jim. "We always knew he'd be back."
"We don't know for sure it's him."
"Not yet."
The interview seemed at an end. "I'll spare you the trouble of disappearing and head inside," Jim said wryly.
"By the way, Lieutenant Gordon." He turned to look back--and this time he did start; Batman was on the ground and right next to him, his voice pitched even lower. "Your daughter is well aware of the fact I stop by. I'm sure you know about the webcam in her room, but there's one tucked in the eaves that you might not be aware of. That one was a bit tricky to deactiovate." This time the corner of his mouth did lift.
Jim Gordon buried his face in his hands for a moment. "I'm sorry," he muttered. When he looked up again, he was alone.
: : :
The Fortress was never warm, exactly, but Kal had instructed it to raise the temperature enough that Bruce could remove the cowl, the better to squint at the readouts from the computer. "So it's saying...lost, medicine--oh, it means anti-toxin--lost potency..." He frowned. "It's saying the anti-toxin has lost its potency over time?"
"No, you've missed the modifier, it's saying that it's clear it hasn't lost any potency over time," Kal noted, pointing to the key symbols.
Bruce harrumphed slightly, then sighed. "So Crane has a new formula of toxin."
"Maybe it isn't him at all. That isn't how his toxin worked when you last encountered him, right?"
Bruce nodded and absently ran a hand through his hair. "The toxin based on al-Ghul's formula triggered a sort of panphobia--a generalized terror of all things. If this is his work, it's a triggered phobia--a very different kind of thing."
"Maybe he's managed to bottle the essence of Gotham this time around. That would do it." Bruce shot Kal a glare and Kal grinned sheepishly. "Can you make a new antidote?"
"Not without a sample to work from, and there hasn't been any to go on yet." Batman stepped away from the crystalline readout and paced absently back and forth across the icy platform. Above him the shining, slanted spires of the Fortress rose in silent beauty against the black sky, stars peeking through the crystal lattices. The looming crystals glowed softly, hints of blue and violet and amber at their hearts. "I need more data. If it is Crane, he'll strike again. He'd never be content with just a few isolated experiments." A pivot, his boots crunching on frosted crystal. "More data. I hate waiting."
Kal shifted from his own computer readout to hover in front of Bruce, just out of reach of the platform. He rarely hovered in either Gotham or Metropolis, but here in the Fortress he always seemed more willing to indulge his Kryptonian side, a butterfly spreading its wings to catch the starlight, strange and exotic. Beautiful.
"Bruce. Do you know what today is?" Kal's smile was sweet and guileless, his eyes limpid. Bruce felt his mouth go suddenly dry.
"Today is...it's..." He shook his head wordlessly, staring at the face like cut-crystal, eyes the cool blue of glaciers. "What's today?"
A hint of disappointment on his lover's face. "Bruce, it's Valentine's Day. How could you forget?" The hints of light in the Fortress crystals were a low indigo, throbbing faintly.
Bruce swallowed hard. "I'm sorry."
Kal's smile was serene. "I got you something." He held it out: a crystal on a loop of some impossibly fine silk, about as long as his hand. Bruce took it and held it against the violet light; something at the center of the crystal glinted at him. He looked closer to find, deep in the heart of the crystal, his symbol and Kal's etched into the depths. The two symbols were connected, twining in an endless loop that spiraled as the crystal turned in Bruce's hands. The symbols glimmered faintly, like threads of starlight.
Bruce stared at it for a long time, caught by its beauty, aware at a visceral level of Kal's bright eyes on him, watching his reaction. "Thank you," he whispered. "It's perfect."
"Yes." Kal's voice was low and intense.
"I have nothing for you," Bruce said softly, meeting Kal's eyes.
The dim purple light sparked for just a moment into an incandescent white, but Kal's face stayed perfectly still. "I suggest you think of something appropriate to give me in return, then, Bruce."
Bruce stared at him, feeling the pulse hammering in his body. Then he slowly sank to his knees. "I have only myself," he said, bowing his head and spreading his hands. He was hard, so hard already, aching against the constraints of the armor.
"That will do," said Kal, his voice full of laughter, and Bruce looked up to find him floating naked, pale and burning against the crystals and the black night sky. Kal lowered himself against one of the huge, slanting crystals, coming to rest against it, nearly standing. It glowed white as he touched it, then subsided back into indigo. "Come here to me."
Bruce jumped from his platform to stand in front of Kal, who smiled sweetly again and made an imperious gesture with his hand; Bruce dropped to his knees once more and kissed the inside of Kal's thigh, the skin cool against his lips. Kal shivered and buried his hands in Bruce's hair, lines of ice against Bruce's scalp. "Pleasure me, forgetful one," he whispered, and Bruce smiled and brushed his mouth over silky balls, enjoying the way they shifted with Kal's arousal, a throaty moan echoing among the crystals, coaxing the light upward into sparkling blue.
"Bruce, Bruce...cruel love, thoughtless love, give me your mouth..." Bruce pressed kisses all around Kal's cock, licking and teasing, until the crystals were shining turquoise and Kal was repeating "Give me...give me..." as if he had forgotten any other words. Then he slipped Kal's cock into his mouth in one swift motion, savoring the stuttering cry that made the crystals ring around them, sucking fiercely, Kal's fingers clenching in his hair, his own arousal a red veil that turned everything to fire.
He lost himself in the rhythms of Kal's body, the shifting, leaping tides of the act, lost himself in the feel of the soothing weight in his mouth and the pressure of his own desire. He could hear Kal talking, his voice sweet and dreamy, fragments of sound among the increasing brightness of the light around them: "...My Bruce, my hope, my everything, all I need, the only gift I'll ever need...your mouth, your tongue, yes, like that, like that...how could I need things from you, talismans and trinkets, ah, Rao, when I have all that matters, this--" his voice was tight with lust and approaching climax, the crystals around them sparking gold and silver light, "--this, right now, this--"
Kal's voice shifted into wordless rapture, hips bucking, and Bruce held his strange angel against a pillar of blazing light, sucking greedily, joy and salt sweetness in his mouth. All the crystals of the Fortress chimed in unison with Kal's voice, light flaring and blazing around them, the heart of the aurora.
As Kal's shudders subsided, Bruce slid upward, pressing kisses along the pale body. Kal's face was flushed, his hair wild with static, clinging to the crystal behind his head like a dark halo. Bruce brushed Kal's hair away from the smooth surface, hearing the crackle of energy, and Kal pulled him close to kiss and taste and laugh into his mouth.
"It's not fair," Bruce murmured.
"What isn't?" Kal said, his voice lazy and low as it always was after they finished this game.
"That I always get two gifts on Valentine's Day," Bruce said against Kal's throat, tasting the pulse of his laughter. "My birthday is next week, and I say it's your turn to be the errant lover." Bruce dropped his voice to a husky purr, "I promise I'll be very inventive with my punishment."
The crystals around them hummed contentedly; Kal's voice echoed the sound. "If you punish as delightfully as you apologize, I'll be looking forward to my turn."
Pairing: Clark/Bruce
Disclaimer: The boys belong to DC and to each other, but not to me.
Series Notes: Gotham Nocturne is part of The Music of the Spheres, a combined Superman Returns/Batman Begins series. The whole series can be found here.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Jim Gordon has a visitor among the trash cans, and Bruce forgets a very important date.
Word Count: 1700
Jim Gordon lifted the lid from the trash can behind his apartment and dropped the black plastic bag in, startling a few rats.
"What happened at the bank last night?"
Jim was pleased that he hardly flinched at all at the sound of the hoarse, gravely voice. He looked up to see the Batman crouched on a fire escape, peering down at him. He shoved his glasses up on his nose, squinting a little in the dark, painfully aware that it made him look rabbitty. "If my daughter ever notices that Batman is showing up to chat with me every few weeks, I'll never hear the end of it, you know."
One corner of the grim mouth--didn't lift, but looked for a moment as if the possibility of lifting were not entirely out of the question. "The bank," Batman prompted again, patiently.
Jim swung the hand still holding the round metal lid in a vague motion. "Robbery. But you already know that."
"Where were the guards?"
Jim sighed. "They were on duty. A masked man walked in and dropped some firecrackers on the floor. The guards panicked and ran away."
"Ran away. From firecrackers."
"We interviewed them. They said the noise startled them. Well, they said it scared the hell out of them. They couldn't explain it. They dropped their guns and ran away."
A growling noise that sounded more ruminatory than threatening. "And the man just walked in and took the money."
"He didn't bother to blow the safe; he seemed content with the cash that hadn't been locked up yet. Not a very thorough job." Jim replaced the trash can lid with a metallic bang.
"Lygerophobia. Fear of sudden loud noises."
Jim glanced sharply up at the figure above him. "I know. We gave the guards the anti-toxin you came up with last year and it didn't seem to help, although the fear seems to be starting to dissipate now. Seems to last six, seven hours. And yes, the man on the security tapes seemed about the right height and build."
This time the growl was threatening, if not directed at Jim. "We always knew he'd be back."
"We don't know for sure it's him."
"Not yet."
The interview seemed at an end. "I'll spare you the trouble of disappearing and head inside," Jim said wryly.
"By the way, Lieutenant Gordon." He turned to look back--and this time he did start; Batman was on the ground and right next to him, his voice pitched even lower. "Your daughter is well aware of the fact I stop by. I'm sure you know about the webcam in her room, but there's one tucked in the eaves that you might not be aware of. That one was a bit tricky to deactiovate." This time the corner of his mouth did lift.
Jim Gordon buried his face in his hands for a moment. "I'm sorry," he muttered. When he looked up again, he was alone.
: : :
The Fortress was never warm, exactly, but Kal had instructed it to raise the temperature enough that Bruce could remove the cowl, the better to squint at the readouts from the computer. "So it's saying...lost, medicine--oh, it means anti-toxin--lost potency..." He frowned. "It's saying the anti-toxin has lost its potency over time?"
"No, you've missed the modifier, it's saying that it's clear it hasn't lost any potency over time," Kal noted, pointing to the key symbols.
Bruce harrumphed slightly, then sighed. "So Crane has a new formula of toxin."
"Maybe it isn't him at all. That isn't how his toxin worked when you last encountered him, right?"
Bruce nodded and absently ran a hand through his hair. "The toxin based on al-Ghul's formula triggered a sort of panphobia--a generalized terror of all things. If this is his work, it's a triggered phobia--a very different kind of thing."
"Maybe he's managed to bottle the essence of Gotham this time around. That would do it." Bruce shot Kal a glare and Kal grinned sheepishly. "Can you make a new antidote?"
"Not without a sample to work from, and there hasn't been any to go on yet." Batman stepped away from the crystalline readout and paced absently back and forth across the icy platform. Above him the shining, slanted spires of the Fortress rose in silent beauty against the black sky, stars peeking through the crystal lattices. The looming crystals glowed softly, hints of blue and violet and amber at their hearts. "I need more data. If it is Crane, he'll strike again. He'd never be content with just a few isolated experiments." A pivot, his boots crunching on frosted crystal. "More data. I hate waiting."
Kal shifted from his own computer readout to hover in front of Bruce, just out of reach of the platform. He rarely hovered in either Gotham or Metropolis, but here in the Fortress he always seemed more willing to indulge his Kryptonian side, a butterfly spreading its wings to catch the starlight, strange and exotic. Beautiful.
"Bruce. Do you know what today is?" Kal's smile was sweet and guileless, his eyes limpid. Bruce felt his mouth go suddenly dry.
"Today is...it's..." He shook his head wordlessly, staring at the face like cut-crystal, eyes the cool blue of glaciers. "What's today?"
A hint of disappointment on his lover's face. "Bruce, it's Valentine's Day. How could you forget?" The hints of light in the Fortress crystals were a low indigo, throbbing faintly.
Bruce swallowed hard. "I'm sorry."
Kal's smile was serene. "I got you something." He held it out: a crystal on a loop of some impossibly fine silk, about as long as his hand. Bruce took it and held it against the violet light; something at the center of the crystal glinted at him. He looked closer to find, deep in the heart of the crystal, his symbol and Kal's etched into the depths. The two symbols were connected, twining in an endless loop that spiraled as the crystal turned in Bruce's hands. The symbols glimmered faintly, like threads of starlight.
Bruce stared at it for a long time, caught by its beauty, aware at a visceral level of Kal's bright eyes on him, watching his reaction. "Thank you," he whispered. "It's perfect."
"Yes." Kal's voice was low and intense.
"I have nothing for you," Bruce said softly, meeting Kal's eyes.
The dim purple light sparked for just a moment into an incandescent white, but Kal's face stayed perfectly still. "I suggest you think of something appropriate to give me in return, then, Bruce."
Bruce stared at him, feeling the pulse hammering in his body. Then he slowly sank to his knees. "I have only myself," he said, bowing his head and spreading his hands. He was hard, so hard already, aching against the constraints of the armor.
"That will do," said Kal, his voice full of laughter, and Bruce looked up to find him floating naked, pale and burning against the crystals and the black night sky. Kal lowered himself against one of the huge, slanting crystals, coming to rest against it, nearly standing. It glowed white as he touched it, then subsided back into indigo. "Come here to me."
Bruce jumped from his platform to stand in front of Kal, who smiled sweetly again and made an imperious gesture with his hand; Bruce dropped to his knees once more and kissed the inside of Kal's thigh, the skin cool against his lips. Kal shivered and buried his hands in Bruce's hair, lines of ice against Bruce's scalp. "Pleasure me, forgetful one," he whispered, and Bruce smiled and brushed his mouth over silky balls, enjoying the way they shifted with Kal's arousal, a throaty moan echoing among the crystals, coaxing the light upward into sparkling blue.
"Bruce, Bruce...cruel love, thoughtless love, give me your mouth..." Bruce pressed kisses all around Kal's cock, licking and teasing, until the crystals were shining turquoise and Kal was repeating "Give me...give me..." as if he had forgotten any other words. Then he slipped Kal's cock into his mouth in one swift motion, savoring the stuttering cry that made the crystals ring around them, sucking fiercely, Kal's fingers clenching in his hair, his own arousal a red veil that turned everything to fire.
He lost himself in the rhythms of Kal's body, the shifting, leaping tides of the act, lost himself in the feel of the soothing weight in his mouth and the pressure of his own desire. He could hear Kal talking, his voice sweet and dreamy, fragments of sound among the increasing brightness of the light around them: "...My Bruce, my hope, my everything, all I need, the only gift I'll ever need...your mouth, your tongue, yes, like that, like that...how could I need things from you, talismans and trinkets, ah, Rao, when I have all that matters, this--" his voice was tight with lust and approaching climax, the crystals around them sparking gold and silver light, "--this, right now, this--"
Kal's voice shifted into wordless rapture, hips bucking, and Bruce held his strange angel against a pillar of blazing light, sucking greedily, joy and salt sweetness in his mouth. All the crystals of the Fortress chimed in unison with Kal's voice, light flaring and blazing around them, the heart of the aurora.
As Kal's shudders subsided, Bruce slid upward, pressing kisses along the pale body. Kal's face was flushed, his hair wild with static, clinging to the crystal behind his head like a dark halo. Bruce brushed Kal's hair away from the smooth surface, hearing the crackle of energy, and Kal pulled him close to kiss and taste and laugh into his mouth.
"It's not fair," Bruce murmured.
"What isn't?" Kal said, his voice lazy and low as it always was after they finished this game.
"That I always get two gifts on Valentine's Day," Bruce said against Kal's throat, tasting the pulse of his laughter. "My birthday is next week, and I say it's your turn to be the errant lover." Bruce dropped his voice to a husky purr, "I promise I'll be very inventive with my punishment."
The crystals around them hummed contentedly; Kal's voice echoed the sound. "If you punish as delightfully as you apologize, I'll be looking forward to my turn."