FIC: Pink Ribbons (with Rai_Daydreamer)
Title: Pink Ribbons
Challenge prompt: "13. half accidental, half painful instrumental" --
20_inkspots(Dark set-- full table here)
Which came first: Art
Pairing: Clark/Bruce
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2100Disclaimer: The boys belong to DC and each other, but not to me.
Summary: Superman finds himself tangled up in magic yet again.
Notes: From a series of challenges designed to help artists and writers work together--Rai did the art and then I wrote the story!
If it had been Gotham, Superman might have been less surprised to find himself face to face with Klarion the Witch-boy. As it was, he was investigating a lead at one of Luthor's mansions halfway between Metropolis and Gotham, and thus he hadn't been expecting to run into a magician in the library.
"From your startled expression, Kryptonian, I gather you are nonplussed to find me here," Klarion said smugly, floating into the air to hover a few inches higher than Superman. The cat in his arms purred down at the superhero.
"I didn't know you were working with Luthor," Superman said warily, eyeing the exits. It wasn't that magic made him nervous or anything...but the last time he'd run into the witch-boy he'd ended up a variety of very embarrassing ages. //J'onn? I might need a little backup. I've run into Klarion.//
//Understood. I'll see who's available.//
Klarion snorted. "I don't 'work with' mortals. But Luthor had something I wanted. This patch of land is the nexus of several ley lines of great power. Luthor agreed to give it to me...if I helped him with something." His smile was predatory.
Superman crossed his arms. The witch-boy was a capricious creature; maybe he could be distracted, if not cowed. "Klarion, you should know better. I'm sure Luthor has no intention of actually giving you this land. He's probably preparing to double-cross you as we speak. Shouldn't you check on him?"
He could see immediately from the spark in the boy's eyes that it had been the wrong tack. "Oh, you!" hissed Klarion, echoed by his cat. A flick of his pale hands and suddenly slate-blue ribbons materialized out of thin air to snap around Superman's body, pinning his arms to his side and tying his legs together. He fell out of the air like a rock, smacking his head painfully on the floor.
Klarion glared at him petulantly. "Those won't come off except at the hands of someone you love," Klarion huffed. "And since you're condescending, patronizing, and--and a selfish, inconsiderate, arrogant boor, I'm sure that means they won't be coming off!" He stamped his foot angrily in the air and disappeared.
Superman lay trussed up on the floor of the mansion's library. The wide ribbons locked his limbs together, and apparently--he focused his eyes to no result--blocked his abilities. His head ached. His arms were crossed and tied behind his back with--it seemed to be a very large bow. He managed to get the end of one of the ribbons between his fingers and tug, but the bow remained immobile. //J'onn?//
//Yes, Kal? Are you all right?//
//I seem to be...tied up in some kind of magical ribbons.//
Anyone else's mental voice would have reflected amusement. //Most of the League is busy right now, Kal. And the magic seems to be jamming the teleporters. I'll send Batman to see if he can undo the bonds.//
//No!// J'onn waited politely for him to explain his exclamation, and Kal squirmed in his bonds. He didn't want Batman to see him like this, certainly. The Bat would never let him live it down. But that wasn't the real reason he didn't want Bruce to come and try to help him.
The real reason was he wasn't sure he could deal with it if Batman was able to untie him.
Sure, Bruce wouldn't know what it meant that he could undo the magical bonds.
But Clark would.
He didn't want confirmation of his greatest fear, didn't want to have to look across that conference table at meetings and know that he was in love. Much easier to keep it shoved into the most private corners of his psyche, a jewel taken out to look at only when he was terribly tired and miserable. Perhaps once a month, when the Fortress of Solitude seemed a terrifyingly apt name, he would call up one picture on his monitor, a different one each time: maybe Batman leaping from a roof, maybe Bruce Wayne smirking at a party. Kal would study it, memorizing each detail.
And then he would put it--and the emotions the image had evoked in him--away.
It was his secret, kept even from himself as much as possible, and he didn't want to be faced with it right now.
J'onn was waiting for his answer. Clark was about to come up with something--any second now--when Klarion suddenly re-appeared in a puff of sulphurous smoke. "Oh, I almost forget," the witch-boy said casually, and with another flick of his hands the curtains of the library were ablaze, the fire spreading immediately to the bookcases. "I prefer my property to have some scenic burned-out ruins anyway. For atmosphere," the boy said cheerfully, and vanished again. Various explosions indicated fires breaking out in other rooms of the mansion.
//J'onn? Can't you send anyone else? And...fairly quickly?// The flames were licking at the ceiling, and Clark wasn't sure if he was invulnerable at all at the moment. The ringing in his ears and the growing discomfort of the heat of the room would seem to indicate no.
//Batman is on his way.//
Clark considered his options: be humiliatingly rescued by his secret crush or burn to a crisp...//Are you sure there's no one else, J'onn?// There was a popping noise from the bookcases and a cinder landed on Clark's hand; he winced away from it as best he could. Definitely not invulnerable.
Pounding footsteps on the stairs. "Superman?" He could hear Batman entering the first room down the hall. Superman struggled desperately with his bonds in silence: useless. "Superman!" Batman's footsteps entered the next room.
Clark bit his lip. Don't find me, please don't find me. He could take the chance that some other miracle would save him. It always had before, right? A shower or sparks landed on the Persian rug under him, tiny char-marks worming into the fabric. Give up, go away.
"Kal!" Bruce's voice was only slightly closer. Clark heard a crashing noise as a part of the roof in that direction collapsed. Had Batman been caught under it? Suddenly panicked, he struggled against his bonds with renewed fervor. Get out of here! Stop risking your life!
"Kal, damn it, where are you?" Batman's voice was hoarse. The man would never give up, it wasn't in his soul. The flames were spreading, and every moment Bruce was in here the risk to him grew.
That Bruce might be in danger because of his pride was not acceptable.
"I'm here, Batman!" His voice hardly carried over the roar of the flames. The smoke was getting thick, burning Clark's throat.
Batman loomed out of the smoke, taking in the situation in the room with a glance. The doorway was almost entirely in flames now; Batman grabbed a heavy chair and threw it through the bay window with a huge shattering of glass. The rush of fresh air made the flames leap higher hungrily, and Batman reached down to scoop the bound Kryptonian up in his arms as the roof started to come down.
At his touch, the dark-blue ribbons suddenly brightened to incandescent bubble-gum pink, glowing with an eerie internal light that cut through the smoke and suffused the whole room. Clark heard the twang of a grapple over the clamor of flame and then he was soaring through the broken window clutched in Batman's arms. His surroundings spun and he hoped his cry of alarm seemed to be because of that, and not at the sight of the ribbons around him glimmering rose and fuschia, blushing pink, revealing his heart to himself.
He closed his eyes and hoped Batman would just drop him somewhere and disappear.
There was cool air on his face and the sound of the burning building fell away behind them as they swung from arc to arc. They seemed to be in the woods surrounding Luthor's mansion now. Batman lowered him to the ground; Clark could feel soft grass at his back and the scent of crushed clover filled the air. He kept his eyes closed. Apparently he'd gotten some smoke in them as he could feel them watering a bit. The ribbons were warm around his body and he could almost see the pink glow against his closed eyelids. His eyes stung some more.
"Clark?" Batman's voice sounded concerned. Clark opened his eyes just a little and found that he was indeed lying in a bed of clover, pink flowers nodding all around him. Batman stood above him, looking down at the pink ribbons, which had subsided into a gentle shimmering. "Do you know why those are glowing?"
Clark shook his head vehemently. "Klarion stuck me in them, but they were blue--maybe the fire made them start glowing? I have no idea!"
Batman's eyes narrowed dangerously. The man was like a walking lie detector. Or it could be Clark was just very, very bad at lying to him. "You have no idea?"
Clark swallowed. "None." He looked away, feeling clover leaves brushing his cheek.
Bruce took one of the danging ends in his hand. "Do you think I could--"
"That's fine!" Clark yelped and swung his bound wrists away from the black glove. "I mean, they're magic...it might be dangerous to mess with them." The warm bands around his chest pulsed just a little, and Clark knew with a sinking feeling that if Bruce didn't get him out of these ribbons, he was never going to get out of them.
For a long moment, Bruce just stared at him. Then, to Clark's astonishment, he started to chuckle. "I'm sorry," he said, covering his mouth with a hand and not looking at all repentant, "It's just...you look like a present, all tied up with a big pink bow." He suddenly leaned in close to Superman, putting his hands on either side of Clark's body. The smell of clover was very heavy in the air. "All wrapped up for me, perhaps?"
Bruce's mouth was extremely close to Clark's, curved very temptingly. "...for you?" Clark echoed weakly.
"Do you really have no idea why those ribbons started glowing when I touched them?" Batman sounded honestly curious.
"Do you?"
There was a long moment of silence, broken only by the singing of some bird in a tree nearby. Batman wetted his lips, his face so close to Clark's that he was nearly licking Superman's lips. And then Bruce kissed Clark.
It was a slow, gentle, velvety kiss, almost tentative. Clark knew he should probably pull away from it and protest, but it seemed...easier...to just relax into it, sighing slightly, relishing the feel of Bruce's lips on his. The small, broken sound he made when Bruce pulled away faded into contentment as Bruce transferred his attention to his neck and ears.
"Tim ran into Klarion last week," Bruce murmured against the space just below his left ear. "These ribbons are apparently the witch-boy's latest project. We couldn't get him out of them until...Spoiler showed up to check on him."
Clark's feeling of foolishness was mitigated slightly by having Bruce delicately nibbling his skin. "You knew?"
"Mmmm." The affirmative was muffled against Clark's hair. Bruce moved so his mouth was right at Clark's ear, his voice a bare whisper. "So if I tried to undo those ribbons...could I, Clark?"
Rather than answer, Clark pulled his head back to kiss Bruce again.
After a long, happy, clover-scented time, Bruce chuckled lightly into the kiss again. "I'm...glad. But maybe I'm in no rush to get you untied."
"What?" Clark was torn between outrage and a very different reaction as Batman's hands began to brush over the warm, sparkling ribbons, exploring the spaces between them with delicious results.
Bruce kissed his throat. "Such a pretty present for me," he murmured. Then his head came back up suddenly, his face concerned. "Do they hurt?" His voice was all business. "They didn't hurt Tim, but maybe you--"
"--No," said Clark hastily. He cleared his throat. "No, they...they don't hurt. At all."
Bruce's worried look melted back into a rather predatory smile. "Good." His hands traced along the edges of a ribbon that looped across Clark's hips. "It's not often I'm given a gift this appealing. It would be a shame to unwrap it too quickly."
The dark-gloved hands' exploration was a rather overwhelming sensation, and Clark couldn't help but squirm in his shining pink bonds, but his struggles only seemed to encourage Bruce to further enthusiasm.
After a moment's thought, Clark squirmed a bit more.
Challenge prompt: "13. half accidental, half painful instrumental" --
20_inkspots(Dark set-- full table here)
Which came first: Art
Pairing: Clark/Bruce
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2100Disclaimer: The boys belong to DC and each other, but not to me.
Summary: Superman finds himself tangled up in magic yet again.
Notes: From a series of challenges designed to help artists and writers work together--Rai did the art and then I wrote the story!
If it had been Gotham, Superman might have been less surprised to find himself face to face with Klarion the Witch-boy. As it was, he was investigating a lead at one of Luthor's mansions halfway between Metropolis and Gotham, and thus he hadn't been expecting to run into a magician in the library.
"From your startled expression, Kryptonian, I gather you are nonplussed to find me here," Klarion said smugly, floating into the air to hover a few inches higher than Superman. The cat in his arms purred down at the superhero.
"I didn't know you were working with Luthor," Superman said warily, eyeing the exits. It wasn't that magic made him nervous or anything...but the last time he'd run into the witch-boy he'd ended up a variety of very embarrassing ages. //J'onn? I might need a little backup. I've run into Klarion.//
//Understood. I'll see who's available.//
Klarion snorted. "I don't 'work with' mortals. But Luthor had something I wanted. This patch of land is the nexus of several ley lines of great power. Luthor agreed to give it to me...if I helped him with something." His smile was predatory.
Superman crossed his arms. The witch-boy was a capricious creature; maybe he could be distracted, if not cowed. "Klarion, you should know better. I'm sure Luthor has no intention of actually giving you this land. He's probably preparing to double-cross you as we speak. Shouldn't you check on him?"
He could see immediately from the spark in the boy's eyes that it had been the wrong tack. "Oh, you!" hissed Klarion, echoed by his cat. A flick of his pale hands and suddenly slate-blue ribbons materialized out of thin air to snap around Superman's body, pinning his arms to his side and tying his legs together. He fell out of the air like a rock, smacking his head painfully on the floor.
Klarion glared at him petulantly. "Those won't come off except at the hands of someone you love," Klarion huffed. "And since you're condescending, patronizing, and--and a selfish, inconsiderate, arrogant boor, I'm sure that means they won't be coming off!" He stamped his foot angrily in the air and disappeared.
Superman lay trussed up on the floor of the mansion's library. The wide ribbons locked his limbs together, and apparently--he focused his eyes to no result--blocked his abilities. His head ached. His arms were crossed and tied behind his back with--it seemed to be a very large bow. He managed to get the end of one of the ribbons between his fingers and tug, but the bow remained immobile. //J'onn?//
//Yes, Kal? Are you all right?//
//I seem to be...tied up in some kind of magical ribbons.//
Anyone else's mental voice would have reflected amusement. //Most of the League is busy right now, Kal. And the magic seems to be jamming the teleporters. I'll send Batman to see if he can undo the bonds.//
//No!// J'onn waited politely for him to explain his exclamation, and Kal squirmed in his bonds. He didn't want Batman to see him like this, certainly. The Bat would never let him live it down. But that wasn't the real reason he didn't want Bruce to come and try to help him.
The real reason was he wasn't sure he could deal with it if Batman was able to untie him.
Sure, Bruce wouldn't know what it meant that he could undo the magical bonds.
But Clark would.
He didn't want confirmation of his greatest fear, didn't want to have to look across that conference table at meetings and know that he was in love. Much easier to keep it shoved into the most private corners of his psyche, a jewel taken out to look at only when he was terribly tired and miserable. Perhaps once a month, when the Fortress of Solitude seemed a terrifyingly apt name, he would call up one picture on his monitor, a different one each time: maybe Batman leaping from a roof, maybe Bruce Wayne smirking at a party. Kal would study it, memorizing each detail.
And then he would put it--and the emotions the image had evoked in him--away.
It was his secret, kept even from himself as much as possible, and he didn't want to be faced with it right now.
J'onn was waiting for his answer. Clark was about to come up with something--any second now--when Klarion suddenly re-appeared in a puff of sulphurous smoke. "Oh, I almost forget," the witch-boy said casually, and with another flick of his hands the curtains of the library were ablaze, the fire spreading immediately to the bookcases. "I prefer my property to have some scenic burned-out ruins anyway. For atmosphere," the boy said cheerfully, and vanished again. Various explosions indicated fires breaking out in other rooms of the mansion.
//J'onn? Can't you send anyone else? And...fairly quickly?// The flames were licking at the ceiling, and Clark wasn't sure if he was invulnerable at all at the moment. The ringing in his ears and the growing discomfort of the heat of the room would seem to indicate no.
//Batman is on his way.//
Clark considered his options: be humiliatingly rescued by his secret crush or burn to a crisp...//Are you sure there's no one else, J'onn?// There was a popping noise from the bookcases and a cinder landed on Clark's hand; he winced away from it as best he could. Definitely not invulnerable.
Pounding footsteps on the stairs. "Superman?" He could hear Batman entering the first room down the hall. Superman struggled desperately with his bonds in silence: useless. "Superman!" Batman's footsteps entered the next room.
Clark bit his lip. Don't find me, please don't find me. He could take the chance that some other miracle would save him. It always had before, right? A shower or sparks landed on the Persian rug under him, tiny char-marks worming into the fabric. Give up, go away.
"Kal!" Bruce's voice was only slightly closer. Clark heard a crashing noise as a part of the roof in that direction collapsed. Had Batman been caught under it? Suddenly panicked, he struggled against his bonds with renewed fervor. Get out of here! Stop risking your life!
"Kal, damn it, where are you?" Batman's voice was hoarse. The man would never give up, it wasn't in his soul. The flames were spreading, and every moment Bruce was in here the risk to him grew.
That Bruce might be in danger because of his pride was not acceptable.
"I'm here, Batman!" His voice hardly carried over the roar of the flames. The smoke was getting thick, burning Clark's throat.
Batman loomed out of the smoke, taking in the situation in the room with a glance. The doorway was almost entirely in flames now; Batman grabbed a heavy chair and threw it through the bay window with a huge shattering of glass. The rush of fresh air made the flames leap higher hungrily, and Batman reached down to scoop the bound Kryptonian up in his arms as the roof started to come down.
At his touch, the dark-blue ribbons suddenly brightened to incandescent bubble-gum pink, glowing with an eerie internal light that cut through the smoke and suffused the whole room. Clark heard the twang of a grapple over the clamor of flame and then he was soaring through the broken window clutched in Batman's arms. His surroundings spun and he hoped his cry of alarm seemed to be because of that, and not at the sight of the ribbons around him glimmering rose and fuschia, blushing pink, revealing his heart to himself.
He closed his eyes and hoped Batman would just drop him somewhere and disappear.
There was cool air on his face and the sound of the burning building fell away behind them as they swung from arc to arc. They seemed to be in the woods surrounding Luthor's mansion now. Batman lowered him to the ground; Clark could feel soft grass at his back and the scent of crushed clover filled the air. He kept his eyes closed. Apparently he'd gotten some smoke in them as he could feel them watering a bit. The ribbons were warm around his body and he could almost see the pink glow against his closed eyelids. His eyes stung some more.
"Clark?" Batman's voice sounded concerned. Clark opened his eyes just a little and found that he was indeed lying in a bed of clover, pink flowers nodding all around him. Batman stood above him, looking down at the pink ribbons, which had subsided into a gentle shimmering. "Do you know why those are glowing?"
Clark shook his head vehemently. "Klarion stuck me in them, but they were blue--maybe the fire made them start glowing? I have no idea!"
Batman's eyes narrowed dangerously. The man was like a walking lie detector. Or it could be Clark was just very, very bad at lying to him. "You have no idea?"
Clark swallowed. "None." He looked away, feeling clover leaves brushing his cheek.
Bruce took one of the danging ends in his hand. "Do you think I could--"
"That's fine!" Clark yelped and swung his bound wrists away from the black glove. "I mean, they're magic...it might be dangerous to mess with them." The warm bands around his chest pulsed just a little, and Clark knew with a sinking feeling that if Bruce didn't get him out of these ribbons, he was never going to get out of them.
For a long moment, Bruce just stared at him. Then, to Clark's astonishment, he started to chuckle. "I'm sorry," he said, covering his mouth with a hand and not looking at all repentant, "It's just...you look like a present, all tied up with a big pink bow." He suddenly leaned in close to Superman, putting his hands on either side of Clark's body. The smell of clover was very heavy in the air. "All wrapped up for me, perhaps?"
Bruce's mouth was extremely close to Clark's, curved very temptingly. "...for you?" Clark echoed weakly.
"Do you really have no idea why those ribbons started glowing when I touched them?" Batman sounded honestly curious.
"Do you?"
There was a long moment of silence, broken only by the singing of some bird in a tree nearby. Batman wetted his lips, his face so close to Clark's that he was nearly licking Superman's lips. And then Bruce kissed Clark.
It was a slow, gentle, velvety kiss, almost tentative. Clark knew he should probably pull away from it and protest, but it seemed...easier...to just relax into it, sighing slightly, relishing the feel of Bruce's lips on his. The small, broken sound he made when Bruce pulled away faded into contentment as Bruce transferred his attention to his neck and ears.
"Tim ran into Klarion last week," Bruce murmured against the space just below his left ear. "These ribbons are apparently the witch-boy's latest project. We couldn't get him out of them until...Spoiler showed up to check on him."
Clark's feeling of foolishness was mitigated slightly by having Bruce delicately nibbling his skin. "You knew?"
"Mmmm." The affirmative was muffled against Clark's hair. Bruce moved so his mouth was right at Clark's ear, his voice a bare whisper. "So if I tried to undo those ribbons...could I, Clark?"
Rather than answer, Clark pulled his head back to kiss Bruce again.
After a long, happy, clover-scented time, Bruce chuckled lightly into the kiss again. "I'm...glad. But maybe I'm in no rush to get you untied."
"What?" Clark was torn between outrage and a very different reaction as Batman's hands began to brush over the warm, sparkling ribbons, exploring the spaces between them with delicious results.
Bruce kissed his throat. "Such a pretty present for me," he murmured. Then his head came back up suddenly, his face concerned. "Do they hurt?" His voice was all business. "They didn't hurt Tim, but maybe you--"
"--No," said Clark hastily. He cleared his throat. "No, they...they don't hurt. At all."
Bruce's worried look melted back into a rather predatory smile. "Good." His hands traced along the edges of a ribbon that looped across Clark's hips. "It's not often I'm given a gift this appealing. It would be a shame to unwrap it too quickly."
The dark-gloved hands' exploration was a rather overwhelming sensation, and Clark couldn't help but squirm in his shining pink bonds, but his struggles only seemed to encourage Bruce to further enthusiasm.
After a moment's thought, Clark squirmed a bit more.