Stranger in a Strange Land: Heroes (8/8)
Title: Stranger in a Strange Land: Heroes
Pairing/Characters: Clark/Bruce, Dick, Tim, Barbara, the League
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Continuity: Justice League Unlimited
Summary: Kal continues to find his place in his new world--both as a hero and as a man in love.
Word Count: 3900
Notes: For a prompt on the
worlds_finest birthday thread: "Krypton doesn't explode until Kal-El is an adult. He arrives on Earth still the last son, but having seen his planet die. To the JLA's surprise, Batman is the one to volunteer to help him." All chapters can be found here.
The square of morning sunlight was making its way across the coverlet, inch by inch. Bruce watched its progress as it slipped toward Kal's sleeping face. As the sun touched Kal's lips, still cracked and bloody, the wounds seemed to fade away at the touch, leaving his mouth unbattered. Bruce watched in fascination as the sunlight gently erased the bruises and scrapes from the night before, a caress bringing healing in its wake. When the last marks were gone, Bruce couldn't resist dropping a kiss on his forehead, where that unruly curl of hair fell so invitingly.
Kal stretched like a cat at the touch, opening sleepy blue eyes that shifted from happy into surprised at seeing Bruce there. "What--" he started, pulling away, then relaxed slowly as remembrance came into his eyes. "Brainiac. We saved Gotham," he said slowly. "And...I kissed you," he added, looking embarrassed and smug and nervous all at once.
It seemed the quickest way to quell that nervousness was to kiss him again, so Bruce did so. Kal sighed into the kiss, his hands sliding down Bruce's back, stopping at his hips with the fingers splayed just a little lower. "What do you want me to do to you?" murmured Bruce into his ear as the kiss ended. "What do you want to do to me?"
Kal made a muffled sound and his hips bucked a little. He bit his lip, looking at Bruce. "I learned all the words for these things, but I don't know which ones are right to use," he said. "And some things...well, I'm not sure I exactly understand what they are. I stayed with text-only after looking at a few pictures made me, well--" he broke off with a small, nervous laugh.
"Embarrassed?"
"I think the word is 'horny,'" Kal corrected. "Or is that too rude? It was so hard to tell which words had which nuance."
"That's not too rude," Bruce said. "It sounds just about right to me." He ran his hands down the Metropolis Sharks logo on Kal's t-shirt, coming to rest on the waistband of his jeans. He flicked the zipper lightly with one thumb and Kal shuddered. "The only way to learn proper usage is to use it, I believe. So...what would you call this?"
Kal took a ragged breath as Bruce's fingers traced along his fly. "Um, I assume 'dick' is out of the question?"
Bruce chuckled. "It would be a little jarring, don't you think?"
"Mm. Maybe." Kal seemed to be having a hard time concentrating. "How about 'prick'?"
"It's a little old-fashioned," said Bruce, "But not bad." He pressed a little harder and Kal groaned. "Have you ever touched yourself?"
"Ah," said Kal breathlessly. "Touched my...my manhood?" Bruce nodded, managing to keep a straight face. It wasn't that difficult, considering that listening to Kal talk dirty--even by Victorian standards--was making him hard as well. "When I went into kielneth, I did it all the time," Kal said in a low voice. "It felt so good, I never wanted to leave kielneth because I knew the urge would go away. And then I--didn't." His face was flushed, and although his voice was embarrassed his erection continued to push insistently at the front of his jeans. "I just kept wanting to touch myself and make myself--um. Um," he stammered, at a loss for words for a second, "--Climax. But I didn't once I realized it was perverted to still want to. I didn't often," he amended.
Bruce continued to run his thumbs along the jeans-covered length of Kal's erection, almost soothingly. "It feels good, doesn't it?" He was trying to keep his voice fairly level, but he could feel the tremble in it as he thought about how good it was going to feel, how good he was going to make Kal feel. "When was the last time?"
"The last time I, um...what's the right word for it? Jacked off?" Bruce nodded, kissing the heated, flushed skin at his temple, still stroking. "Yesterday," Kal said, a tremor that hovered between laughter and embarrassment in his voice. "I've done it...almost every day since I got here. Thinking about your voice, telling me that I could just...let go and enjoy--" Kal broke off, biting his lip as Bruce ran his thumb over the top of his hidden erection. "Thinking about your hands. Rao, Bruce, your hands."
Bruce's smile, which might have been on the verge of slightly smug, slipped abruptly as Kal's hand found its way to the front of his pants; there was the sound of a zipper being undone and Bruce suddenly bit down on the smooth flesh of Kal's neck to stifle a delighted curse.
Kal murmured something extremely pleased on Kryptonian as his fingers crept warmly past the zipper, and without warning everything seemed likely to slide completely out of control for Bruce. Not acceptable, he sternly informed his rioting, rampant body. Kal's first experience was not going to involve some besotted, sex-crazed Terran ripping his clothes off and--
Okay, Bruce amended a few moments later, it might involve a sex-crazed Terran ripping his clothes off, but that wasn't entirely Bruce's fault, he had some super-speed assistance. Kal was on his back with his jeans and underwear down around his ankles, his sweatshirt rucked up to expose gleaming abdomen muscles, and there probably was no way to ask if the average Kryptonian male were hung like that without breaking the mood, but-- "You're beautiful," he contented himself with, and let his thumb and index finger circle the base of Kal's erection, tightening just enough that Kal's back arched.
Bruce shifted to kiss Kal's stomach, glad that he was still fully-dressed, even though the friction was almost unbearable. Trailing his way down, he moved his circled fingers just a fraction of an inch in a quick stroking motion, leaving most of the taut ruddy skin untouched, and he heard Kal's breathing get more and more erratic. "Mmm," he murmured just a breath away from the tip, and Kal's hips jerked upward toward his voice with blind urgency.
"Oh Bruce," gasped Kal. "Please--I don't know what--Please--" He shuddered and made a strange, keening, beautiful noise as Bruce ran his tongue along skin that was much warmer than human.
Then he went entirely still for a second as Bruce slipped his mouth around the tip and let his erection plunge deep.
Bruce savored the soft, shifting sensation for a moment, the salty-sweet taste that was almost imperceptibly different. Then Kal dragged in a sudden gasping breath and Bruce realized he'd stopped breathing..
Kal gasped something that didn't sound coherent even in Kryptonian, and there was a real edge of alarm to it that brought Bruce's head up quickly. "What's wrong?" he asked, trying not to lick his lips too obviously.
"That's--" Kal's eyes were wide. "What was--what are you--"
"It's called a blowjob," Bruce said, unable to stifle a grin.
"That was not blowing," Kal stated emphatically.
"It is a rather inaccurate name," Bruce reflected. "Do you mind if I continue? I was enjoying myself," he added.
"But--" Kal's hands caught in his hair as he bent again. "Bruce, if you do that, it's so good--I don't know if I can keep from--"
"--That's the point, dear," Bruce murmured before losing himself in the joyous work again.
Far too quickly--he'd only gotten started and still had some special techniques he'd been looking forward to using--Kal's back arched and he cried out, hoarsely. Bruce held onto his powerful thighs and savored the abandoned sounds he made, swallowing until Kal's back went limp and he lay panting against the sheets.
"That was--" Kal shook his head slightly, staring at him. "Is it always so good?"
Bruce chuckled, curling up next to him, letting the heat that radiated from his body soak into him. "You tell me after we've done it a few dozen more times."
"A few dozen," Kal said wonderingly, his voice shot through with glee like light. Then he sat up so abruptly that Bruce was dislodged with a thump. "I want to try," he said. "I want to make you feel like that."
He wasn't as polished as Bruce, of course--clumsy with eagerness, a little unsure--but Bruce soon concluded that a supernaturally sensitive tongue, the judicious use of super-speed, and the ability to hover more than made up for any beginner's jitters.
It was his last coherent thought for an ecstatically long time.
: : :
"--hereby formally induct Kal-El of Krypton, also known as Superman," into the Justice League." J'onn J'onnz's voice was formal and resonant; only Batman caught the slight grimace on Kal's face at the superhero name. He still hadn't quite accepted that he was going to be saddled with something so simultaneously grandiose and juvenile.
The other heroes crowded around and shook his hand as Kal beamed and told everyone how gratified and humbled he was to be among such company.
"I have to say, I didn't think you'd be the best person to teach him how to fit into the human race," said Green Lantern at Batman's elbow. "But I wouldn't be surprised if he became the most popular member of the League. And he seems--not just resigned to being among us, but content. Happy. Good work."
"All his doing," said Batman.
In mid-conversation with Wonder Woman, Superman caught sight of Batman and his face lit up in a smile. It took him a moment to remember that he was supposed to be talking to someone else and turned back to the Amazon, looking flustered and happy.
"Yes, I can see you had nothing to do with it," said Green Lantern, his voice dry. He clapped Batman on the back. "Congratulations. And be careful--Hawkgirl might just smack you with her mace out of sheer envy."
Batman considered sardonically dismissing Stewart's implications, but he was in too good a mood (Kal had asked what "sixty-nine" was last night) and frankly (after a night spent demonstrating) too tired to bother.
: : :
"You don't have to do this."
"I want to," Kal said.
"Some people just don't like it. Some couples don't do it at all. We haven't even exhausted all the possibilities with hands and mouths, not to mention a wealth of props and toys--nipple clamps, cock rings--and then there's roleplaying and bondage--"
"--Bruce, I don't even know exactly what some of those are, but no matter how tantalizing they sound, I'm not getting distracted. So stop stalling," Kal said tartly.
He was stalling, Bruce realized. He had a gorgeous, nude Kryptonian floating in mid-air in front of him, demanding to be debauched, and he was stalling.
Kal flipped forward in the air like an astronaut in zero-G to bring himself face to face with Bruce, reaching out to cup his face in gentle hands. "I promise I'll tell you if I don't like it, okay? I trust you; you need to trust me to be honest with you." He flipped backwards again until he was lying on his back in the air, an alien odalisque on an invisible couch, smiling invitingly.
Bruce reached for him and pulled him close.
It was awkward at times--Kal made a face at the feeling of the lube that made them both laugh, and Bruce almost lost his nerve (and his erection) at Kal's initial look of discomfort, but Kal murmured, "It doesn't hurt. Just...odd," and shifted slightly in the air, a twisting, liquid motion that made Bruce gasp. It felt so good that Bruce almost lost himself in the heat and the sensation, almost missed the moment when Kal's expression shaded from unease into a slow-dawning, languid pleasure. "Ah," Kal whispered, his eyes half-lidded, looking inward. "That's..."
"Touch yourself," Bruce said, more brusquely than he had intended, pleasure rippling around and through him, and Kal lifted a hand to stroke himself, his gaze shifting to Bruce's face with a hungry intensity. "Yes. Like that." He held himself still with some effort, resisting his body's demands for more, for faster, for release, letting Kal find his own pace, relishing the look of pleasure on his face. When Kal wrapped his legs around him and pulled him closer, it was all he could do not to come right then as he sank deep into yielding heat.
Kal whispered something in Kryptonian, his hand's motions no longer smooth but sharp and jerky. "Please. Please move a little," he breathed, and Bruce shifted his hips to set up a gentle friction, nothing demanding, a slow sweep of motion that seemed to become his whole world. He couldn't try to hold back any longer, could only luxuriate in the feelings, letting his climax build, a sweetly insistent pressure that would soon--soon--
"Bruce," gasped Kal, and threw his head backwards, his body shuddering. Like a shock wave of pleasure, Bruce felt Kal's climax catch him up in its wake, carrying him along over the edge of his own, and he surrendered control in one of the few ways he ever allowed himself.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Kal said later, when their bodies were disentangled and his eyes had lost the faraway haze of rapture.
"Isn't that supposed to be my line?" murmured Bruce.
"You were the one who was worried," Kal pointed out with a smile as he floated into the bed like celestial thistledown. "I had no doubt that you would be the greatest lover in the galaxy."
Bruce snorted. "As if you'd know."
"Mmm. I can go do some comparisons, if you'd like. Would you like?"
Kal's arched eyebrow was anything but serious, but Bruce felt a sudden pang. "No," he said hoarsely. "I wouldn't like that at all."
"Good," said Kal, looking immensely pleased with himself and the world as he curled up around his lover and fell asleep.
: : :
"Is it going to work?" Tim was practically hopping up and down; Dick put a hand on his shoulder and he subsided reluctantly. Barbara accepted a mug of cocoa from Alfred with a grateful smile and sipped at it, steam rising into the damp and chilly air of the cave.
"I think so," Kal answered Tim, tapping two wires together. Instead of a shower of sparks, a surprisingly sweet, piercing chime filled the cave. "Just a few more adjustments..." A hand appeared from somewhere beneath the machine; Kal put a wrench into it and it disappeared. "If you'd like to stay, Alfred, I don't think it will be much longer until we can test it again."
"It would be my pleasure," Alfred said, setting down his tray and watching the proceedings with interest.
The rocket Kal had arrived in had been reconstructed and repurposed into something more closely resembling a computer than a spacecraft. Kal picked up one of the two glimmering crystals Bruce had stolen back from Brainiac's ship and took a deep breath. "Ready?" he asked.
Bruce emerged from beneath the machine, a smudge of sparkling dust leaving an incongruous stripe in his hair, and nodded, dusting off his hands. "Give it a try."
Kal bit his lip. "What's the English saying? The third attempt is the lucky token?"
"The third try is the charm, yes," said Bruce, with only the barest hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.
Kal slid the crystal into what had previously been the dashboard of the ship, and everyone held their breath.
There was a burst of crystalline static, a flicker of snowy light--it faded, dimmed, and just when everyone had started to sigh with disappointment, strengthened again into a three-dimensional image: a planet hanging in space, alien lettering across it.
"Krypton," Kal breathed. "Ah." There was was depth of joy and grief in his voice, and Bruce reached out and put a hand on his shoulder; Kal leaned briefly into the touch, still watching the glimmering ghost of a planet turning gently in the dark air of the cave.
After a moment, he turned back to the dashboard and the makeshift keyboard attached to it. "Let me see what's on the crystal," he said, touching the keys.
The planet melted away into lattices and fractals of symbols that swirled in the air. Kal seemed to know what he was doing as he manipulated the data, moving through it in ways that were not intuitive to Bruce's Terran mind. "Oh," he exclaimed, "This has instructions on how to crystallize a Kryptonian building. And--" a brief chuckle, "--a recipe database. Good in theory, but my father's favorite recipe for grilled Fire Fall fish-snake is hard to make without the actual fish-snakes. Let's see..." The pillars of pure information gave way to images: jeweled forests, horned beasts, cities that seemed to be made of glass and light.
"It's so beautiful," Barbara said softly, gold and violet light playing across her face.
"It's got the birth registries," Kal said, and Bruce could hear some sudden, suppressed excitement in his voice. "I wonder if--maybe--" There was a storm of typing, and the images dissolved and reformed into--
A string of Kryptonian letters spiraled through a column of space, and the light solidified into the forms of a man and a woman, their hands linked together, smiling. They both wore formal robes like the ones Kal had arrived in, but made of many shifting colors. There was much familiar in the man's strong chin; even more familiar in the woman's kind eyes. An unseen voice asked a question, and the man said "Kal-El don Jor-El."
"Kal-El va Lara Lor-Van," said the woman at his side. They turned as one and lifted something outside of the field of vision into the light.
Everyone caught their breath as a baby wrapped in red cloth, the distinctive shield picked out in gold, came into view. Chubby fists flailed against the light; the woman put out a finger and the tiny hand grabbed hold. Bruce heard a crowing laugh, and the two adults smiled fondly.
Kal's eyes were brilliant in the light of the vision. His hand was outstretched so the radiance fell across it, a cascade of shining memory. "The day I was admitted to the family register," he said. "My parents." As Jor-El and Lara held their precious baby up to be recorded and admitted, Kal pulled his hand back into the shadows and reached up to clasp Bruce's, still on his shoulder. "Thank you," he whispered.
Kal's parents bowed to the unseen authority and the vision went dark, the gurgling laugh of their son the last sound on the record.
There was a beat of silence, and then Barbara jumped forward and threw her arms around Kal in a fierce hug. "I'm so glad," she said, "So glad you can hear their voices again. So glad you're with us." Kal hugged her back, and it quickly became a group hug when Tim and Dick joined in.
Bruce got caught up in the whole tangle somehow because Kal wouldn't let his hand go, but it didn't seem worthwhile to complain--or to let go of Kal's hand, either.
: : :
"I've been working on adopting a specific American English dialect for my new identity," said Kal that night, propping himself up on Bruce's bare chest to look into his eyes.
"Mm?" Bruce pulled himself back from the brink of sleep. "What are you going with?"
Kal cleared his throat and said, "Youse guys had better all listen up when I'm talkin', y'hear?"
Bruce blinked. "I'm not sure a Jersey accent really suits you," he said as diplomatically as possible. "Although you do replicate it very well."
Kal shrugged. "It's just a matter of watching enough television featuring it. You think it doesn't suit me? Tim said he thought it would be cute."
Bruce made a mental note to talk to Tim later. "I think maybe you might want to look for something a little more standard. Midwestern, perhaps."
Kal kissed his collarbone thoughtfully. "Maybe." He sighed. "You really think I need a second identity? I don't like to deceive people."
"You need to be able to meet and mingle with humanity without them treating you with fear or reverence," Bruce said. "Plus," he added, "Bruce Wayne can't really date Kal-El of Krypton openly without risking people asking dangerous questions."
"You want to date me openly?"
Bruce made a huffy sound. "Of course I do," he said. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I couldn't go out in public and show you a good time? You'd ditch me for someone more interesting within a month."
Kal's smile was amused. "I sincerely doubt that," he said. There was a thoughtful pause. "So...Midwestern?"
"Maybe. We'll have to construct a paper trail for you--birth documents, social security cards. Find a job that you can do without native knowledge of American culture, assuming you don't want to be my kept man."
"Whatever that is, it sounds delightful," grinned Kal, "But yes, I would like to earn a living somehow."
"And we'll have to find a name that's close to Kal but not so close as to be suspicious."
"Clyde? We watched that fascinating movie about that gangster named Clyde."
"Not Clyde," Bruce said categorically.
"Clemence? Clifford? Cleveland? Clud?" Kal looked like he was going to continue and might have memorized a baby name book, so Bruce decided it was best to distract him with a kiss.
Yes, he decided somewhat later, that really was best.
"It's a small thing, but there's something I still don't understand," Kal said much later, as they lay tangled in each others' arms. "About Brainiac." When Bruce nodded, he went on: "That day, when I broke into his ship, he was going to hold Gotham hostage against me. But he couldn't find Gotham, because some gloriously sneaky thief had stolen it," he said, kissing the corner of Bruce's mouth. "But couldn't he have grabbed any of the other worlds? There were hundreds. Any of them would have worked. I don't understand."
"That's because you don't know how beings like that think," said Bruce. "Brainiac assumed that you'd only care about a civilization you felt possessive of. He took for granted that you'd respond only as a Kryptonian or a Terran, instead of as what you are."
"And what am I?" asked Kal. His tone was light, but there was a question in his eyes. "My birth home is gone, and I'll never be fully Terran. So what exactly am I?"
"You're a hero, of course," said Bruce, pulling him close again, watching the doubt in Kal's eyes warm into happiness once more. "A hero and my love."
Pairing/Characters: Clark/Bruce, Dick, Tim, Barbara, the League
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None
Continuity: Justice League Unlimited
Summary: Kal continues to find his place in his new world--both as a hero and as a man in love.
Word Count: 3900
Notes: For a prompt on the
worlds_finest birthday thread: "Krypton doesn't explode until Kal-El is an adult. He arrives on Earth still the last son, but having seen his planet die. To the JLA's surprise, Batman is the one to volunteer to help him." All chapters can be found here.
The square of morning sunlight was making its way across the coverlet, inch by inch. Bruce watched its progress as it slipped toward Kal's sleeping face. As the sun touched Kal's lips, still cracked and bloody, the wounds seemed to fade away at the touch, leaving his mouth unbattered. Bruce watched in fascination as the sunlight gently erased the bruises and scrapes from the night before, a caress bringing healing in its wake. When the last marks were gone, Bruce couldn't resist dropping a kiss on his forehead, where that unruly curl of hair fell so invitingly.
Kal stretched like a cat at the touch, opening sleepy blue eyes that shifted from happy into surprised at seeing Bruce there. "What--" he started, pulling away, then relaxed slowly as remembrance came into his eyes. "Brainiac. We saved Gotham," he said slowly. "And...I kissed you," he added, looking embarrassed and smug and nervous all at once.
It seemed the quickest way to quell that nervousness was to kiss him again, so Bruce did so. Kal sighed into the kiss, his hands sliding down Bruce's back, stopping at his hips with the fingers splayed just a little lower. "What do you want me to do to you?" murmured Bruce into his ear as the kiss ended. "What do you want to do to me?"
Kal made a muffled sound and his hips bucked a little. He bit his lip, looking at Bruce. "I learned all the words for these things, but I don't know which ones are right to use," he said. "And some things...well, I'm not sure I exactly understand what they are. I stayed with text-only after looking at a few pictures made me, well--" he broke off with a small, nervous laugh.
"Embarrassed?"
"I think the word is 'horny,'" Kal corrected. "Or is that too rude? It was so hard to tell which words had which nuance."
"That's not too rude," Bruce said. "It sounds just about right to me." He ran his hands down the Metropolis Sharks logo on Kal's t-shirt, coming to rest on the waistband of his jeans. He flicked the zipper lightly with one thumb and Kal shuddered. "The only way to learn proper usage is to use it, I believe. So...what would you call this?"
Kal took a ragged breath as Bruce's fingers traced along his fly. "Um, I assume 'dick' is out of the question?"
Bruce chuckled. "It would be a little jarring, don't you think?"
"Mm. Maybe." Kal seemed to be having a hard time concentrating. "How about 'prick'?"
"It's a little old-fashioned," said Bruce, "But not bad." He pressed a little harder and Kal groaned. "Have you ever touched yourself?"
"Ah," said Kal breathlessly. "Touched my...my manhood?" Bruce nodded, managing to keep a straight face. It wasn't that difficult, considering that listening to Kal talk dirty--even by Victorian standards--was making him hard as well. "When I went into kielneth, I did it all the time," Kal said in a low voice. "It felt so good, I never wanted to leave kielneth because I knew the urge would go away. And then I--didn't." His face was flushed, and although his voice was embarrassed his erection continued to push insistently at the front of his jeans. "I just kept wanting to touch myself and make myself--um. Um," he stammered, at a loss for words for a second, "--Climax. But I didn't once I realized it was perverted to still want to. I didn't often," he amended.
Bruce continued to run his thumbs along the jeans-covered length of Kal's erection, almost soothingly. "It feels good, doesn't it?" He was trying to keep his voice fairly level, but he could feel the tremble in it as he thought about how good it was going to feel, how good he was going to make Kal feel. "When was the last time?"
"The last time I, um...what's the right word for it? Jacked off?" Bruce nodded, kissing the heated, flushed skin at his temple, still stroking. "Yesterday," Kal said, a tremor that hovered between laughter and embarrassment in his voice. "I've done it...almost every day since I got here. Thinking about your voice, telling me that I could just...let go and enjoy--" Kal broke off, biting his lip as Bruce ran his thumb over the top of his hidden erection. "Thinking about your hands. Rao, Bruce, your hands."
Bruce's smile, which might have been on the verge of slightly smug, slipped abruptly as Kal's hand found its way to the front of his pants; there was the sound of a zipper being undone and Bruce suddenly bit down on the smooth flesh of Kal's neck to stifle a delighted curse.
Kal murmured something extremely pleased on Kryptonian as his fingers crept warmly past the zipper, and without warning everything seemed likely to slide completely out of control for Bruce. Not acceptable, he sternly informed his rioting, rampant body. Kal's first experience was not going to involve some besotted, sex-crazed Terran ripping his clothes off and--
Okay, Bruce amended a few moments later, it might involve a sex-crazed Terran ripping his clothes off, but that wasn't entirely Bruce's fault, he had some super-speed assistance. Kal was on his back with his jeans and underwear down around his ankles, his sweatshirt rucked up to expose gleaming abdomen muscles, and there probably was no way to ask if the average Kryptonian male were hung like that without breaking the mood, but-- "You're beautiful," he contented himself with, and let his thumb and index finger circle the base of Kal's erection, tightening just enough that Kal's back arched.
Bruce shifted to kiss Kal's stomach, glad that he was still fully-dressed, even though the friction was almost unbearable. Trailing his way down, he moved his circled fingers just a fraction of an inch in a quick stroking motion, leaving most of the taut ruddy skin untouched, and he heard Kal's breathing get more and more erratic. "Mmm," he murmured just a breath away from the tip, and Kal's hips jerked upward toward his voice with blind urgency.
"Oh Bruce," gasped Kal. "Please--I don't know what--Please--" He shuddered and made a strange, keening, beautiful noise as Bruce ran his tongue along skin that was much warmer than human.
Then he went entirely still for a second as Bruce slipped his mouth around the tip and let his erection plunge deep.
Bruce savored the soft, shifting sensation for a moment, the salty-sweet taste that was almost imperceptibly different. Then Kal dragged in a sudden gasping breath and Bruce realized he'd stopped breathing..
Kal gasped something that didn't sound coherent even in Kryptonian, and there was a real edge of alarm to it that brought Bruce's head up quickly. "What's wrong?" he asked, trying not to lick his lips too obviously.
"That's--" Kal's eyes were wide. "What was--what are you--"
"It's called a blowjob," Bruce said, unable to stifle a grin.
"That was not blowing," Kal stated emphatically.
"It is a rather inaccurate name," Bruce reflected. "Do you mind if I continue? I was enjoying myself," he added.
"But--" Kal's hands caught in his hair as he bent again. "Bruce, if you do that, it's so good--I don't know if I can keep from--"
"--That's the point, dear," Bruce murmured before losing himself in the joyous work again.
Far too quickly--he'd only gotten started and still had some special techniques he'd been looking forward to using--Kal's back arched and he cried out, hoarsely. Bruce held onto his powerful thighs and savored the abandoned sounds he made, swallowing until Kal's back went limp and he lay panting against the sheets.
"That was--" Kal shook his head slightly, staring at him. "Is it always so good?"
Bruce chuckled, curling up next to him, letting the heat that radiated from his body soak into him. "You tell me after we've done it a few dozen more times."
"A few dozen," Kal said wonderingly, his voice shot through with glee like light. Then he sat up so abruptly that Bruce was dislodged with a thump. "I want to try," he said. "I want to make you feel like that."
He wasn't as polished as Bruce, of course--clumsy with eagerness, a little unsure--but Bruce soon concluded that a supernaturally sensitive tongue, the judicious use of super-speed, and the ability to hover more than made up for any beginner's jitters.
It was his last coherent thought for an ecstatically long time.
: : :
"--hereby formally induct Kal-El of Krypton, also known as Superman," into the Justice League." J'onn J'onnz's voice was formal and resonant; only Batman caught the slight grimace on Kal's face at the superhero name. He still hadn't quite accepted that he was going to be saddled with something so simultaneously grandiose and juvenile.
The other heroes crowded around and shook his hand as Kal beamed and told everyone how gratified and humbled he was to be among such company.
"I have to say, I didn't think you'd be the best person to teach him how to fit into the human race," said Green Lantern at Batman's elbow. "But I wouldn't be surprised if he became the most popular member of the League. And he seems--not just resigned to being among us, but content. Happy. Good work."
"All his doing," said Batman.
In mid-conversation with Wonder Woman, Superman caught sight of Batman and his face lit up in a smile. It took him a moment to remember that he was supposed to be talking to someone else and turned back to the Amazon, looking flustered and happy.
"Yes, I can see you had nothing to do with it," said Green Lantern, his voice dry. He clapped Batman on the back. "Congratulations. And be careful--Hawkgirl might just smack you with her mace out of sheer envy."
Batman considered sardonically dismissing Stewart's implications, but he was in too good a mood (Kal had asked what "sixty-nine" was last night) and frankly (after a night spent demonstrating) too tired to bother.
: : :
"You don't have to do this."
"I want to," Kal said.
"Some people just don't like it. Some couples don't do it at all. We haven't even exhausted all the possibilities with hands and mouths, not to mention a wealth of props and toys--nipple clamps, cock rings--and then there's roleplaying and bondage--"
"--Bruce, I don't even know exactly what some of those are, but no matter how tantalizing they sound, I'm not getting distracted. So stop stalling," Kal said tartly.
He was stalling, Bruce realized. He had a gorgeous, nude Kryptonian floating in mid-air in front of him, demanding to be debauched, and he was stalling.
Kal flipped forward in the air like an astronaut in zero-G to bring himself face to face with Bruce, reaching out to cup his face in gentle hands. "I promise I'll tell you if I don't like it, okay? I trust you; you need to trust me to be honest with you." He flipped backwards again until he was lying on his back in the air, an alien odalisque on an invisible couch, smiling invitingly.
Bruce reached for him and pulled him close.
It was awkward at times--Kal made a face at the feeling of the lube that made them both laugh, and Bruce almost lost his nerve (and his erection) at Kal's initial look of discomfort, but Kal murmured, "It doesn't hurt. Just...odd," and shifted slightly in the air, a twisting, liquid motion that made Bruce gasp. It felt so good that Bruce almost lost himself in the heat and the sensation, almost missed the moment when Kal's expression shaded from unease into a slow-dawning, languid pleasure. "Ah," Kal whispered, his eyes half-lidded, looking inward. "That's..."
"Touch yourself," Bruce said, more brusquely than he had intended, pleasure rippling around and through him, and Kal lifted a hand to stroke himself, his gaze shifting to Bruce's face with a hungry intensity. "Yes. Like that." He held himself still with some effort, resisting his body's demands for more, for faster, for release, letting Kal find his own pace, relishing the look of pleasure on his face. When Kal wrapped his legs around him and pulled him closer, it was all he could do not to come right then as he sank deep into yielding heat.
Kal whispered something in Kryptonian, his hand's motions no longer smooth but sharp and jerky. "Please. Please move a little," he breathed, and Bruce shifted his hips to set up a gentle friction, nothing demanding, a slow sweep of motion that seemed to become his whole world. He couldn't try to hold back any longer, could only luxuriate in the feelings, letting his climax build, a sweetly insistent pressure that would soon--soon--
"Bruce," gasped Kal, and threw his head backwards, his body shuddering. Like a shock wave of pleasure, Bruce felt Kal's climax catch him up in its wake, carrying him along over the edge of his own, and he surrendered control in one of the few ways he ever allowed himself.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Kal said later, when their bodies were disentangled and his eyes had lost the faraway haze of rapture.
"Isn't that supposed to be my line?" murmured Bruce.
"You were the one who was worried," Kal pointed out with a smile as he floated into the bed like celestial thistledown. "I had no doubt that you would be the greatest lover in the galaxy."
Bruce snorted. "As if you'd know."
"Mmm. I can go do some comparisons, if you'd like. Would you like?"
Kal's arched eyebrow was anything but serious, but Bruce felt a sudden pang. "No," he said hoarsely. "I wouldn't like that at all."
"Good," said Kal, looking immensely pleased with himself and the world as he curled up around his lover and fell asleep.
: : :
"Is it going to work?" Tim was practically hopping up and down; Dick put a hand on his shoulder and he subsided reluctantly. Barbara accepted a mug of cocoa from Alfred with a grateful smile and sipped at it, steam rising into the damp and chilly air of the cave.
"I think so," Kal answered Tim, tapping two wires together. Instead of a shower of sparks, a surprisingly sweet, piercing chime filled the cave. "Just a few more adjustments..." A hand appeared from somewhere beneath the machine; Kal put a wrench into it and it disappeared. "If you'd like to stay, Alfred, I don't think it will be much longer until we can test it again."
"It would be my pleasure," Alfred said, setting down his tray and watching the proceedings with interest.
The rocket Kal had arrived in had been reconstructed and repurposed into something more closely resembling a computer than a spacecraft. Kal picked up one of the two glimmering crystals Bruce had stolen back from Brainiac's ship and took a deep breath. "Ready?" he asked.
Bruce emerged from beneath the machine, a smudge of sparkling dust leaving an incongruous stripe in his hair, and nodded, dusting off his hands. "Give it a try."
Kal bit his lip. "What's the English saying? The third attempt is the lucky token?"
"The third try is the charm, yes," said Bruce, with only the barest hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.
Kal slid the crystal into what had previously been the dashboard of the ship, and everyone held their breath.
There was a burst of crystalline static, a flicker of snowy light--it faded, dimmed, and just when everyone had started to sigh with disappointment, strengthened again into a three-dimensional image: a planet hanging in space, alien lettering across it.
"Krypton," Kal breathed. "Ah." There was was depth of joy and grief in his voice, and Bruce reached out and put a hand on his shoulder; Kal leaned briefly into the touch, still watching the glimmering ghost of a planet turning gently in the dark air of the cave.
After a moment, he turned back to the dashboard and the makeshift keyboard attached to it. "Let me see what's on the crystal," he said, touching the keys.
The planet melted away into lattices and fractals of symbols that swirled in the air. Kal seemed to know what he was doing as he manipulated the data, moving through it in ways that were not intuitive to Bruce's Terran mind. "Oh," he exclaimed, "This has instructions on how to crystallize a Kryptonian building. And--" a brief chuckle, "--a recipe database. Good in theory, but my father's favorite recipe for grilled Fire Fall fish-snake is hard to make without the actual fish-snakes. Let's see..." The pillars of pure information gave way to images: jeweled forests, horned beasts, cities that seemed to be made of glass and light.
"It's so beautiful," Barbara said softly, gold and violet light playing across her face.
"It's got the birth registries," Kal said, and Bruce could hear some sudden, suppressed excitement in his voice. "I wonder if--maybe--" There was a storm of typing, and the images dissolved and reformed into--
A string of Kryptonian letters spiraled through a column of space, and the light solidified into the forms of a man and a woman, their hands linked together, smiling. They both wore formal robes like the ones Kal had arrived in, but made of many shifting colors. There was much familiar in the man's strong chin; even more familiar in the woman's kind eyes. An unseen voice asked a question, and the man said "Kal-El don Jor-El."
"Kal-El va Lara Lor-Van," said the woman at his side. They turned as one and lifted something outside of the field of vision into the light.
Everyone caught their breath as a baby wrapped in red cloth, the distinctive shield picked out in gold, came into view. Chubby fists flailed against the light; the woman put out a finger and the tiny hand grabbed hold. Bruce heard a crowing laugh, and the two adults smiled fondly.
Kal's eyes were brilliant in the light of the vision. His hand was outstretched so the radiance fell across it, a cascade of shining memory. "The day I was admitted to the family register," he said. "My parents." As Jor-El and Lara held their precious baby up to be recorded and admitted, Kal pulled his hand back into the shadows and reached up to clasp Bruce's, still on his shoulder. "Thank you," he whispered.
Kal's parents bowed to the unseen authority and the vision went dark, the gurgling laugh of their son the last sound on the record.
There was a beat of silence, and then Barbara jumped forward and threw her arms around Kal in a fierce hug. "I'm so glad," she said, "So glad you can hear their voices again. So glad you're with us." Kal hugged her back, and it quickly became a group hug when Tim and Dick joined in.
Bruce got caught up in the whole tangle somehow because Kal wouldn't let his hand go, but it didn't seem worthwhile to complain--or to let go of Kal's hand, either.
: : :
"I've been working on adopting a specific American English dialect for my new identity," said Kal that night, propping himself up on Bruce's bare chest to look into his eyes.
"Mm?" Bruce pulled himself back from the brink of sleep. "What are you going with?"
Kal cleared his throat and said, "Youse guys had better all listen up when I'm talkin', y'hear?"
Bruce blinked. "I'm not sure a Jersey accent really suits you," he said as diplomatically as possible. "Although you do replicate it very well."
Kal shrugged. "It's just a matter of watching enough television featuring it. You think it doesn't suit me? Tim said he thought it would be cute."
Bruce made a mental note to talk to Tim later. "I think maybe you might want to look for something a little more standard. Midwestern, perhaps."
Kal kissed his collarbone thoughtfully. "Maybe." He sighed. "You really think I need a second identity? I don't like to deceive people."
"You need to be able to meet and mingle with humanity without them treating you with fear or reverence," Bruce said. "Plus," he added, "Bruce Wayne can't really date Kal-El of Krypton openly without risking people asking dangerous questions."
"You want to date me openly?"
Bruce made a huffy sound. "Of course I do," he said. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I couldn't go out in public and show you a good time? You'd ditch me for someone more interesting within a month."
Kal's smile was amused. "I sincerely doubt that," he said. There was a thoughtful pause. "So...Midwestern?"
"Maybe. We'll have to construct a paper trail for you--birth documents, social security cards. Find a job that you can do without native knowledge of American culture, assuming you don't want to be my kept man."
"Whatever that is, it sounds delightful," grinned Kal, "But yes, I would like to earn a living somehow."
"And we'll have to find a name that's close to Kal but not so close as to be suspicious."
"Clyde? We watched that fascinating movie about that gangster named Clyde."
"Not Clyde," Bruce said categorically.
"Clemence? Clifford? Cleveland? Clud?" Kal looked like he was going to continue and might have memorized a baby name book, so Bruce decided it was best to distract him with a kiss.
Yes, he decided somewhat later, that really was best.
"It's a small thing, but there's something I still don't understand," Kal said much later, as they lay tangled in each others' arms. "About Brainiac." When Bruce nodded, he went on: "That day, when I broke into his ship, he was going to hold Gotham hostage against me. But he couldn't find Gotham, because some gloriously sneaky thief had stolen it," he said, kissing the corner of Bruce's mouth. "But couldn't he have grabbed any of the other worlds? There were hundreds. Any of them would have worked. I don't understand."
"That's because you don't know how beings like that think," said Bruce. "Brainiac assumed that you'd only care about a civilization you felt possessive of. He took for granted that you'd respond only as a Kryptonian or a Terran, instead of as what you are."
"And what am I?" asked Kal. His tone was light, but there was a question in his eyes. "My birth home is gone, and I'll never be fully Terran. So what exactly am I?"
"You're a hero, of course," said Bruce, pulling him close again, watching the doubt in Kal's eyes warm into happiness once more. "A hero and my love."