Fic: Catalyst | Nolanverse/Iron Man/SR| Bruce/Clark/Tony | NC-17 | 1/1
Title: Catalyst
Fandom: Batman Nolanverse/Iron Man/Superman Returns
Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent/Tony Stark (w/past Bruce/Tony and future Bruce/Clark)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,081
Prompt: For Porn Battle XII: sex tape, masturbation, jealousy, public, playboys; For this prompt on the S_B Birthday Prompts Post: A sex tape makes Superman rethink his stance on his crush on Batman (Bonus if tape is Bruce/Harvey Dent, Bruce/Tony Stark or Bruce/Tommy Elliot)
Summary: Clark really shouldn't be watching this video.
Disclaimer: DC, WB, and Marvel own everything. Bah.
Author's Notes: Originally posted here at PB XII.
Catalyst
He shouldn't be watching this. Of all the things to click on, on the entirety of the internet, this is the last thing that Clark should be looking at. Especially considering how well he knows one of the 'stars' of the video.
Bruce. His partner, his friend, his-
But Clark refuses to think about it, even as he clicks on the 'play' icon, takes a deep breath, and sits forward in his chair. At least he's at home, and not watching this in the bullpen. Now that would be awkward, not to mention inappropriate. Still, how will he be able to face Bruce tomorrow when they get together for their customary Wednesday lunch, having seen this, having seen-
Bruce's ass, sticking up in the air as Tony Stark-goddamn Tony Stark!-works two, three fingers into him, their skin glowing greenish-white in the night-vision setting on the camera Tony had used to record their encounter. Holy God.
Clark's breath quickens, despite his resolve to look at this objectively and consider whatever damage control might be possible. His eyes lock on the place where Tony's fingers keep disappearing, more of his friend than he'd ever wanted to see-denial, part of him shouts from the recesses of his brain-and he can't help the little shudder that moves through his body, his cock twitching with-oh, hell-sudden want.
On the video, Tony moves over Bruce's back, leaning close to drop kisses along his spine as he maneuvers himself into place, and Clark bites his lip, hips aching now as he watches Stark sink slowly into Bruce's ass.
This shouldn't be making his muscles tense and bunch with desire, it should be clinical, an examination of a train-wreck so he can help Bruce mitigate the damage, but... but he can't help it. Can't help the way his hand moves down to undo his pants and shove his underwear out of the way, freeing his cock. Can't help the way he wraps his hand around his surprisingly full erection and squeezes, gasping as the Bruce in the video arches his back, pressing back into Tony's thrusts, both of them grunting and growling and trading snarky barbs that leave zero doubt that it's really them.
Honestly, at this point, he doesn't even want to stop, even when an increasingly smaller part of him tells him this is a bad idea. Twisting and stroking, he works himself, while Tony reaches down to grasp Bruce, and after a moment, he's stroking himself in time to Tony's movements, Tony working in time to his own thrusts. Clark feels all of a sudden like he's there with them, moving with them, his dick buried somewhere, the three of them pushing and pulling all together, thrusts and strokes all synchronized. The thought shouldn't make the coil of desire low in his belly wind even tighter, but it does, and-
On the tape, Bruce shouts, his cock pumping his release over Tony's hand, and Clark can see the way his hips twitch, Tony stiffening above him almost immediately with a shout of his own, and it's too much. His body shaking, Clark gasps as his orgasm washes over him, his cock pulsing, making a mess of his hand and his clothes.
He doesn't quite see the next few moments of the video, his senses temporarily whited out with pleasure, but when the room stops spinning, he sees Tony and Bruce sprawled together on the large bed, trading lazy kisses and sliding together, slippery and shining with their come.
And that's enough to snap Clark out of his daze, his vision going momentarily red, though he suppresses the urge to melt his computer monitor just in time. This... this is unacceptable. He knows Tony and Bruce are yesterday's news, over and done with after a very public break-up that TMZ and Access Hollywood just wouldn't let go of for weeks, but just the sight of them together, blissed out and very much together, makes Clark's blood start to boil. Worse even is the knowledge that the tamest parts of this video would be played on an endless loop on celebrity gossip shows for at least another month, the images of them tangled together out there for the world to see, for Clark to have to endure.
Dammit, Bruce should never have been with that spoiled brat in the first place. He should've been with-
The realization that he's been living in such deep denial for so long hits Clark like a rogue planetoid crashing through Earth's atmosphere, his chest aching with the intensity of it. Has he... has he really been this far in the dark about his feelings for Bruce for this long? Has he really not seen how-despite everything else he's been through, with Lois and Richard and even Jimmy-Bruce has been his anchor, grounding him and bolstering him up at the same time, giving him everything he otherwise needed? Has he really been so distracted by the tangle of his other relationships that he hasn't seen that what he's wanted most over the last few years was to be by Bruce's side alone, to be in his arms?
A glance down at where his hand is still wrapped around his now soft cock, and that does it. After cleaning himself up quickly, Clark closes his browser window, not willing to watch even another millisecond of Bruce and Tony's tryst. Forcing himself calm, he grabs his phone and hits the speed dial for Bruce's private cell. Two rings, and a sleepy voice answers, “Clark? What's wrong? It's seven a.m. for God's sake.”
Clark takes a deep breath, shoving away the unwanted mental images of Bruce and Tony curled sleepily together. “Um, nothing, sorry. I just... I want to move lunch up to today. It's kind of important.”
A moment's pause, and Bruce replies slowly, “It's about the tape, isn't it? Shit, I knew Tony was an idiot to let that get leaked. I'll meet you at noon.”
“Thank you,” Clark says, relief spreading through him. “I'll be there.”
Hanging up, he runs a hand through his hair and heads to the bathroom to get a shower, and wonders to himself whether he should've even watched the video. Damn Tony Stark and his absolute lack of propriety.
But no. No, he knows he was right to watch it, no matter the outcome; that had to be step one in dealing with the fallout. And maybe... maybe he should be thanking Tony instead. Shaking his head, he makes a mental note to send him a card.
~*~*~*~
Fandom: Batman Nolanverse/Iron Man/Superman Returns
Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent/Tony Stark (w/past Bruce/Tony and future Bruce/Clark)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,081
Prompt: For Porn Battle XII: sex tape, masturbation, jealousy, public, playboys; For this prompt on the S_B Birthday Prompts Post: A sex tape makes Superman rethink his stance on his crush on Batman (Bonus if tape is Bruce/Harvey Dent, Bruce/Tony Stark or Bruce/Tommy Elliot)
Summary: Clark really shouldn't be watching this video.
Disclaimer: DC, WB, and Marvel own everything. Bah.
Author's Notes: Originally posted here at PB XII.
Catalyst
He shouldn't be watching this. Of all the things to click on, on the entirety of the internet, this is the last thing that Clark should be looking at. Especially considering how well he knows one of the 'stars' of the video.
Bruce. His partner, his friend, his-
But Clark refuses to think about it, even as he clicks on the 'play' icon, takes a deep breath, and sits forward in his chair. At least he's at home, and not watching this in the bullpen. Now that would be awkward, not to mention inappropriate. Still, how will he be able to face Bruce tomorrow when they get together for their customary Wednesday lunch, having seen this, having seen-
Bruce's ass, sticking up in the air as Tony Stark-goddamn Tony Stark!-works two, three fingers into him, their skin glowing greenish-white in the night-vision setting on the camera Tony had used to record their encounter. Holy God.
Clark's breath quickens, despite his resolve to look at this objectively and consider whatever damage control might be possible. His eyes lock on the place where Tony's fingers keep disappearing, more of his friend than he'd ever wanted to see-denial, part of him shouts from the recesses of his brain-and he can't help the little shudder that moves through his body, his cock twitching with-oh, hell-sudden want.
On the video, Tony moves over Bruce's back, leaning close to drop kisses along his spine as he maneuvers himself into place, and Clark bites his lip, hips aching now as he watches Stark sink slowly into Bruce's ass.
This shouldn't be making his muscles tense and bunch with desire, it should be clinical, an examination of a train-wreck so he can help Bruce mitigate the damage, but... but he can't help it. Can't help the way his hand moves down to undo his pants and shove his underwear out of the way, freeing his cock. Can't help the way he wraps his hand around his surprisingly full erection and squeezes, gasping as the Bruce in the video arches his back, pressing back into Tony's thrusts, both of them grunting and growling and trading snarky barbs that leave zero doubt that it's really them.
Honestly, at this point, he doesn't even want to stop, even when an increasingly smaller part of him tells him this is a bad idea. Twisting and stroking, he works himself, while Tony reaches down to grasp Bruce, and after a moment, he's stroking himself in time to Tony's movements, Tony working in time to his own thrusts. Clark feels all of a sudden like he's there with them, moving with them, his dick buried somewhere, the three of them pushing and pulling all together, thrusts and strokes all synchronized. The thought shouldn't make the coil of desire low in his belly wind even tighter, but it does, and-
On the tape, Bruce shouts, his cock pumping his release over Tony's hand, and Clark can see the way his hips twitch, Tony stiffening above him almost immediately with a shout of his own, and it's too much. His body shaking, Clark gasps as his orgasm washes over him, his cock pulsing, making a mess of his hand and his clothes.
He doesn't quite see the next few moments of the video, his senses temporarily whited out with pleasure, but when the room stops spinning, he sees Tony and Bruce sprawled together on the large bed, trading lazy kisses and sliding together, slippery and shining with their come.
And that's enough to snap Clark out of his daze, his vision going momentarily red, though he suppresses the urge to melt his computer monitor just in time. This... this is unacceptable. He knows Tony and Bruce are yesterday's news, over and done with after a very public break-up that TMZ and Access Hollywood just wouldn't let go of for weeks, but just the sight of them together, blissed out and very much together, makes Clark's blood start to boil. Worse even is the knowledge that the tamest parts of this video would be played on an endless loop on celebrity gossip shows for at least another month, the images of them tangled together out there for the world to see, for Clark to have to endure.
Dammit, Bruce should never have been with that spoiled brat in the first place. He should've been with-
The realization that he's been living in such deep denial for so long hits Clark like a rogue planetoid crashing through Earth's atmosphere, his chest aching with the intensity of it. Has he... has he really been this far in the dark about his feelings for Bruce for this long? Has he really not seen how-despite everything else he's been through, with Lois and Richard and even Jimmy-Bruce has been his anchor, grounding him and bolstering him up at the same time, giving him everything he otherwise needed? Has he really been so distracted by the tangle of his other relationships that he hasn't seen that what he's wanted most over the last few years was to be by Bruce's side alone, to be in his arms?
A glance down at where his hand is still wrapped around his now soft cock, and that does it. After cleaning himself up quickly, Clark closes his browser window, not willing to watch even another millisecond of Bruce and Tony's tryst. Forcing himself calm, he grabs his phone and hits the speed dial for Bruce's private cell. Two rings, and a sleepy voice answers, “Clark? What's wrong? It's seven a.m. for God's sake.”
Clark takes a deep breath, shoving away the unwanted mental images of Bruce and Tony curled sleepily together. “Um, nothing, sorry. I just... I want to move lunch up to today. It's kind of important.”
A moment's pause, and Bruce replies slowly, “It's about the tape, isn't it? Shit, I knew Tony was an idiot to let that get leaked. I'll meet you at noon.”
“Thank you,” Clark says, relief spreading through him. “I'll be there.”
Hanging up, he runs a hand through his hair and heads to the bathroom to get a shower, and wonders to himself whether he should've even watched the video. Damn Tony Stark and his absolute lack of propriety.
But no. No, he knows he was right to watch it, no matter the outcome; that had to be step one in dealing with the fallout. And maybe... maybe he should be thanking Tony instead. Shaking his head, he makes a mental note to send him a card.
~*~*~*~