Ficlet: Coda to a Tango | Burtonverse/Reeveverse | Bruce/Clark/Lois | R | 1/1
Title: Coda to a Tango
Fandom: Batman Burtonverse/Superman Reeveverse
Characters/Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent/Lois Lane
Rating: R
Word Count: 689
Prompt: For Porn Battle XIII: flirting, dancing, laughter, silk, truth
Summary: Clark is in awe of how the night has unfolded.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own everything, the schmucks.
Author's Notes: Originally posted here. A possible sequel to Tango, finishing out the trio.
Coda to a Tango
Clark isn’t quite sure how they ended up this way. The three of them. Together. Tangled up in the silken sheets of the enormous bed in Bruce’s very expensive hotel suite, sweat-and other things-drying on their skin as their breaths mingle in the air.
He supposes Bruce cutting in to dance with Lois at the charity gala was the catalyst, his quirky flirting catching her attention after Clark had managed, through the magic of Bruce’s dancing lessons, to sweep her off her feet to the Tango. Her head must’ve been spinning, he thinks, watching her breasts rise and fall as she catches her breath, settled between them.
And Bruce. Well, Clark had never realized just how easily he could charm a woman. Of course that should’ve been obvious, but this is Lois, and Lois is, to quote her own assertion, nobody’s fool. That Bruce managed to charm the panties off of her-literally, wow-is quite the feat.
Clark can’t help the bit of awe he feels as he grasps Bruce’s hand across Lois’s belly, twining their fingers together. It seems like something of a miracle, as if the stars have all aligned to bring them together. He’s wanted them both for such a long time. And of course Bruce has wanted Lois. And … and him, as well. God, that Bruce wanted him is still making Clark’s head spin-what could a country farmboy like him possibly have to offer a billionaire playboy like Bruce, anyway? Oh wait. Superpowers. A mind that works faster than those computers that the government has filling whole rooms. Access to the media.
No, no, that’s not right. Bruce has been his friend for years. He’s not the shallow Brucie that people think he is. If he’s wanted Clark, then it’s genuine want. Desire. Even love? Maybe. The thought is enough to throw Clark for a continual loop. If he could get dizzy, he probably would be, with all the self-doubt at the back of his mind warring with triumphant joy in his chest. Who would’ve predicted that one day Batman would have Superman in his bed, bent over and-
Well, there are the talk show hosts that drag out the speculation every once in a while. And the ladies that write those stories and send them back and forth in the mail. Lois showed him one once, that someone had sent her on a whim. What a strange afternoon that had been. He still isn’t sure that some of the contorted positions in the one story are even possible, let alone advisable, if they don’t want to dislocate a hip. Maybe he’ll find out now.
But that’s all beside the point. Which is … that Lois seems to be taking this whole arrangement in such stride that Clark is sure that she must’ve wanted them both. He can’t help but suspect that she’s known this was coming all along. Her wry smile when they laid out their idea to her certainly said enough. As did the way she took both their hands and led them to the elevator afterward. And practically shoved them to the bed when they reached Bruce’s suite.
Isn’t that quite the revelation?
Even more so than when he and Bruce took her aside after their dance and told her about their alter-egos, to get the worst part out of the way. Of all the possible reactions, he didn’t think either of them had expected her to laugh in their faces, then shake her head and confirm that she knew, that she’d known for a long time, and was just waiting for them to get with the program.
After that, their proposition to her was a breeze.
And now here they are.
Tangled together-is that Bruce’s foot or Lois’s? No matter, it’s all the same-in this huge bed.
Happy and sated and sore in all the right places and in all the right ways, and in need of a long shower, and possibly a very large order from room service.
Clark can’t imagine a better way for this night to have gone.
~*~*~*~
Fandom: Batman Burtonverse/Superman Reeveverse
Characters/Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent/Lois Lane
Rating: R
Word Count: 689
Prompt: For Porn Battle XIII: flirting, dancing, laughter, silk, truth
Summary: Clark is in awe of how the night has unfolded.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own everything, the schmucks.
Author's Notes: Originally posted here. A possible sequel to Tango, finishing out the trio.
Coda to a Tango
Clark isn’t quite sure how they ended up this way. The three of them. Together. Tangled up in the silken sheets of the enormous bed in Bruce’s very expensive hotel suite, sweat-and other things-drying on their skin as their breaths mingle in the air.
He supposes Bruce cutting in to dance with Lois at the charity gala was the catalyst, his quirky flirting catching her attention after Clark had managed, through the magic of Bruce’s dancing lessons, to sweep her off her feet to the Tango. Her head must’ve been spinning, he thinks, watching her breasts rise and fall as she catches her breath, settled between them.
And Bruce. Well, Clark had never realized just how easily he could charm a woman. Of course that should’ve been obvious, but this is Lois, and Lois is, to quote her own assertion, nobody’s fool. That Bruce managed to charm the panties off of her-literally, wow-is quite the feat.
Clark can’t help the bit of awe he feels as he grasps Bruce’s hand across Lois’s belly, twining their fingers together. It seems like something of a miracle, as if the stars have all aligned to bring them together. He’s wanted them both for such a long time. And of course Bruce has wanted Lois. And … and him, as well. God, that Bruce wanted him is still making Clark’s head spin-what could a country farmboy like him possibly have to offer a billionaire playboy like Bruce, anyway? Oh wait. Superpowers. A mind that works faster than those computers that the government has filling whole rooms. Access to the media.
No, no, that’s not right. Bruce has been his friend for years. He’s not the shallow Brucie that people think he is. If he’s wanted Clark, then it’s genuine want. Desire. Even love? Maybe. The thought is enough to throw Clark for a continual loop. If he could get dizzy, he probably would be, with all the self-doubt at the back of his mind warring with triumphant joy in his chest. Who would’ve predicted that one day Batman would have Superman in his bed, bent over and-
Well, there are the talk show hosts that drag out the speculation every once in a while. And the ladies that write those stories and send them back and forth in the mail. Lois showed him one once, that someone had sent her on a whim. What a strange afternoon that had been. He still isn’t sure that some of the contorted positions in the one story are even possible, let alone advisable, if they don’t want to dislocate a hip. Maybe he’ll find out now.
But that’s all beside the point. Which is … that Lois seems to be taking this whole arrangement in such stride that Clark is sure that she must’ve wanted them both. He can’t help but suspect that she’s known this was coming all along. Her wry smile when they laid out their idea to her certainly said enough. As did the way she took both their hands and led them to the elevator afterward. And practically shoved them to the bed when they reached Bruce’s suite.
Isn’t that quite the revelation?
Even more so than when he and Bruce took her aside after their dance and told her about their alter-egos, to get the worst part out of the way. Of all the possible reactions, he didn’t think either of them had expected her to laugh in their faces, then shake her head and confirm that she knew, that she’d known for a long time, and was just waiting for them to get with the program.
After that, their proposition to her was a breeze.
And now here they are.
Tangled together-is that Bruce’s foot or Lois’s? No matter, it’s all the same-in this huge bed.
Happy and sated and sore in all the right places and in all the right ways, and in need of a long shower, and possibly a very large order from room service.
Clark can’t imagine a better way for this night to have gone.
~*~*~*~