The Code (497 words) by
mithenChapters: 1/1
Fandom:
Batman v Superman: Dawn of JusticeRating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Characters: Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne
Additional Tags: Angst, Oral Sex, Light Dom/sub, Mind Games, Guilt, Punishment, this one is on the dark side
Summary:
Bruce has found ways to deal with his regret and guilt since Clark has come back from the dead.
Clark steps into the room and smiles at Bruce. It’s the smile that lets him know it’s time to slip into code.
It’s a secret code, in which words stand for other words. It’s a private cipher which lets Bruce understand what Clark really means. It’s been this way since Clark came back from beyond, since they began this thing that’s between them now, this thing that gives them both what they need.
When Clark says “I’d like that,” what it means is On your knees. Now.
When he says “Please,” Bruce knows to hear You deserve nothing. You don’t even deserve to serve me like this.
Bruce feels his condemnation like a weight on his shoulders, shoving him to the ground. Clark doesn’t even need to push him down. He only needs to close his eyes, to touch Bruce’s hair--so lightly, so gently, the threat of punishment could almost be in Bruce’s imagination.
Clark’s breath comes faster as Bruce takes him in his mouth. “That’s so good,” Clark murmurs, which means Choke on it or I’ll take your throat in my hands. Bruce feels himself shuddering as the memory of Clark’s gasping, retching breath is replaced by his own.
Hands that could snap his neck without effort tangle in his hair, tugging. Take it all, prove yourself worthy to live. “You’re so good,” groans Clark, and Bruce knows it means You’re worthless. He leans into the task, losing himself in the rhythm of it, letting himself be penetrated and violated (as he had pierced Clark, grinding him into the dust and grime as he tried to ask for help). The code makes this possible, the code is the only thing that lets Bruce feel pleasure in this, that changes it from simple meaningless affection to repentance.
Clark is beyond words now, gasping and sighing, and each broken syllable of delight is a slap across Bruce’s face, a stinging reproach that leaves him hot and burning with a shame so intense it’s close to ecstasy. He lets it roll across him, lifting his mind out of regret and into a sort of white-hot exaltation that he embraces with joy, until his fierce tender ministrations make Clark cry out wildly and spill into his mouth. For a moment there’s nothing but bliss and catharsis far beyond any physical release (he knows later he will remember this moment and the physical release will be there too, but not now, not now). For a moment everything is right.
Clark says his name and Bruce translates it: Betrayer.
Clark whispers “I love you,” and Bruce hears--more precious, more impossible--Someday I may forgive you.
He lies down next to Clark and listens to his breaths deepen into sleep, feels Clark’s arms around him as if he’s cherished. The code makes this all possible, lets him hear the truth beneath Clark’s words.
The code.
Someday, he thinks as sleep claims him too, maybe someday I’ll even tell Clark about it.