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Bruce doesn’t ask for help.
It’s not a thing he does, it’s not a thing he knows very well how to do.
Perhaps he’s too stubborn, perhaps his “villains” have rarely shown him reason to do so. Or maybe he was always just waiting for the correct moment to ask someone for some sort of assistance. A hero. Someone that wouldn’t get hurt in the process and whose death would never fall on his plate.
At least that’s what he told himself the first time he asked Kal for help.
Superman came to Gotham for the first time many years ago. Back then, Joker was a bigger threat than he currently is. Be it for his size or his evilness, Bruce is not sure. But he was something Bruce needed help to fight with. And Superman came around at the right time.
Bruce asked him to be there the first time around. Hell, Batman nearly begged to have the man guide him through some of the situations Joker was putting him through. It was… Intense, to say the least. But it was one hell of an excuse to have Superman around.
Kal and Bruce kept in contact ever since.
Sometimes he would be the one doing the traveling part ── even if he isn’t able to fight and relocating to wherever Kal was slowly became a detriment to his bank account. Sometimes Kal would show up before Bruce even had the chance to call for backup.
Honestly, he is not even sure how. But a friendship grew.
Not only that, something else seems to linger too close to the surface when it comes to his relationship with Kal.
To be completely candid, Bruce finds him attractive. As someone who barely has time for himself, much less for a full on relationship, Bruce has never had to question his sexuality or what he would find enticing to be around. It simply isn’t something that ever came to the forefront of his mind until Kal-El.
Kal is beautiful, to say the least.
Bruce doubts anyone could ever come in contact with Kal and not desire him somehow. Even if that thought leaves him immensely jealous ── which seems to be another feeling he shouldn’t have, but that still lingers when he’s not paying any attention to his own beating heart. It’s simply a human reaction, wanting the kryptonian man. Nothing more, nothing less.
But Kal slowly became Bruce’s friend. A friend that Bruce never asked for, one that he would question most of the time ── if not all of the time. Yet a friend nonetheless.
And that friendship, despite how complicated it may be, seemed to create space for other feelings to fester. Some that go beyond attractiveness and far beyond what a friendly behavior should hold as clear boundaries.
Feelings that seem to leave Bruce dizzy most of the time.
See, with the life he led, he never had time to process if he’d look at a man the same way he would a woman. Not that it matters, honestly. His concept of sexuality was never something set in stone or something that would worry him much. He never felt like his masculinity meant that much for him to be afraid of even looking at a man the wrong way. But him not minding it and him coming face to face with those feelings are two completely different things.
Yet, Kal seems to bring it all to the surface.
Be it when they fight together or when they are around each other. Bruce always finds himself looking at him, analyzing each inch of his body, more often than not. He feels his palms get sweaty with the anxious need to hold Kal at any point. And, when he’s by himself, he catches himself hard at the thought of the kryptonian. To the point that he constantly has to… Do something about it.
Honestly, Bruce is sure he can live with that. They rarely spend time alone outside important matters. Be it because Kal needs help or because Bruce calls out for him. So, those feelings can be bottled up and swallowed with little to no problem.
He is sure he can handle this.
Truly, he is.
Even when Kal, leaning against a wall, looks at him with that crooked smile and asks him to go out. “Let’s celebrate,” he says. As if the concept of the two of them alone anywhere won’t destroy some of Bruce’s perfectly crafted plan.
“What do you have in mind?”
“Any good bars around Gotham?” he asks. “I could use a drink.”
“You don’t drink,” Bruce reminds him.
“I drink,” Kal argues. “I just don’t get drunk.”
With that statement, Bruce is left with no other choice but to tell Kal where to meet him in a few minutes, since both still have to change into normal clothes and leave the industrial area of Gotham.
If Bruce stalls as much as possible to get to the bar, that’s not here nor there. He needs a few moments to breathe, to accept the idea of being with Kal in a scenario that has nothing to do with the crime fighting portion of his life. And has everything to do with the friendship they’ve been growing for some time. A place where Bruce’s feelings can even decide to come to the forefront of his mind more than they should.
Seriously, Bruce should just give up and go home. Find some excuse not to be alone with his friend. Especially when Kal can’t get drunk, but Bruce doesn’t have that luxury ── well, his body weight has gifted him with a high tolerance when it comes to drinking, but that’s not the same as not getting drunk at all under any circumstances. Kal has the upper hand here. And all Bruce can do about it is sit and watch as it unfolds.
Still, he shows up.
Because he doesn’t know how not to do it.
Because, despite knowing it is a bad idea, his entire body aches for a chance to be alone with Kal outside their work. A moment where they can just exist and be there for one another, that doesn’t involve someone else’s life being at risk. Nor does it hold the fate of the entire world.
Kal is waiting for him in a booth in the back of the bar.
He smiles when Bruce shows up and sits in front of him. Even if he has some difficulty, considering the size of the booth and his own size. Something that clearly amuses Kal to some extent.
“It’s nice to see you in, you know, human clothes,” Bruce points out. His way of telling Kal how unfairly attractive he looks, but without outright saying anything remotely close to it.
Kal chuckles, “You like it? I’m leaning in more into the farm boy aesthetics.”
“I didn’t know farm boys even had an aesthetic.”
“Oh, we do, that’s for sure.”
The first round of drinks doesn’t do much to Bruce. Honestly a couple of drinks can go down like water for him on a good day. And now, talking to Kal and laughing about any topic they can find, is a good fucking day.
Kal tells him more about himself. His life in Krypton, his family, his story. There isn’t anyone sitting close to the two of them, and the bar is quite empty, so when Kal asks him about his life ── and about what led him to do what he does ── Bruce is honest in each turn.
It’s both nice and profoundly infuriating that Bruce enjoys getting to know the kryptonian more.
On one hand, Bruce is glad to have a friend that understands what he does. A friend that doesn’t question his methods and his morals. One that seems to find it quite fitting for him, and his journey, what he does with his life now. And one that clearly understands his reasoning behind it. One that is not afraid to talk about his own reasonings and what else he is able to bring to the table because of it.
On the other hand, the one that Bruce would very much like to chop right off, it confuses him. Not Kal per say. But what finding out more about him seems to do to Bruce’s heart. Desire is easy to comprehend, Kal is breathtaking. Everything about him is desirable in ways Bruce has never desired anything before ── that led him to imagine things being done to him that he never once thought he would want done. But his heartbeat growing stronger with each word Kal lets out, his mind giving the feeling a whole new name as he understands more about the man in front of him. That is horrible.
He can’t fall in love with Kal. He can’t.
But he feels himself doing just that. And he feels himself desiring Kal even more because of it. The second it leaves a simple fling, a simple desire, the second it becomes more… Bruce needs him in concerning ways. It’s no longer a simple want.
The more his feelings grow, then, the more he drinks.
He starts picking up the pace. Downing tequila shots with Kal and chasing them with whiskey. It’s a mess and a half, and he quickly feels the effects it has on his body.
He is laughing easily now, he is smiling and blushing. And… To his surprise, so is Kal. Both of them seem to find the most absurd things funny. Under the table, Kal’s foot is slowly going up and down Bruce’s leg. And, even in all the laughter, Kal looks at Bruce more intently. Like there is something else there.
“Rao,” he lets out a sigh. “You look cute when you blush like that.”
“I’m not blushing,” Bruce argues, even if he can, in fact, feel his cheeks burning up. “I’m… Drunk.”
Which isn’t a lie. He clearly is drunk. He feels slightly lightheaded and his body is more relaxed than it’s been in years. But he is, in fact, also blushing. Simply because of the way Kal is looking at him. As if he could bite Bruce and chew, until he has devoured Bruce whole.
“Fuck…” Kal says. And that sound, the way he says it, hits Bruce straight in the crotch. His cock fucking twitches as he imagines Kal panting that word close to his ear. “So am I.”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugs, “I feel drunk.”
“How would you know? You don’t get drunk.”
Kal eyes Bruce up and down slowly, “You are beautiful, Bruce. Did you know that?”
Bruce nearly chokes on his whiskey, “What?”
“I’ve thought about it ever since we first met,” he bites his lower lip. Bruce is about to lose his goddamn mind. “You are so beautiful.”
There it is. A word no one has ever used to describe Bruce Wayne before. Handsome? Yes, a few times he has heard it, even if not said directly to his face. Big? For sure. Buff? On too many occasions to count. Strong? Yes. But… Never beautiful. And never with that much sincerity in their eyes. Almost as if it’s important that Bruce knows it. As if it’s the greatest truth ever told.
“Your heart is beating so fast,” Kal says, matter-of-factly.
“Why are you listening to my heartbeat?” Bruce says, but does, in fact, try to calm his heart down.
The smile Kal gives doesn’t help his case at all, “I like to see how nervous you get around me.”
“You know,” is all Bruce lets out.
“I’ve known it from the day we met.”
Bruce is not sure what to do with that information. And clearly his body doesn’t either. His hands shake, and that results in his whiskey glass falling onto his lap then shattering on the floor. He sighs, letting out a small: “Shit…”
He gets up, excusing himself to go to the toilet.
Being up does change his entire perception of everything. The room spins a little, and he nearly falls when trying to walk. But he goes get to the toilet intact.
There, he doesn’t go straight into cleaning his clothes as he was supposed to do. Instead, he puts both of his hands on the sink, trying to catch his breath. Kal knows. He has been hearing Bruce’s heartbeat run marathons in his chest all this time. He watched, heard, knew, as Bruce’s feelings grew. Was it fun for him? Was it some sort of kryptonian game he was playing? What even was this?
The door to the bathroom opens. Bringing him more questions than it does answers.
Kal steps in, locking the door behind him.
Bruce is facing him now. They simply stand there, looking at each other. Until Kal moves.
Their height difference forces Kal to hold Bruce by the nape of his neck. Tilting the taller man’s head down until their lips are able to finally meet. It all happens in a fraction of a second. And, when Bruce comes to his senses, they are kissing.
It tastes like tequila, whiskey and whatever was that drink Kal had been getting all night. It’s sweet, sour and slightly tingly. All at the same time. It’s all lips, tongue and teeth. It’s urgent, passionate, unlike anything Bruce has ever experienced before.
Not only are his feelings clearly reciprocated, but Kal makes it a point to show it with each movement of his tongue. He devours Bruce in the most beautiful way possible, drawing small whimpers out of him ── a man, his size, fucking whimpering in the bathroom. And it feels like the most sensual thing Bruce has ever been a part of.
Kal raises his body, throwing him on the sink as if he weighs nearly close to nothing.
Bruce allows himself to be thrown around, honestly liking the way it feels to be manhandled while his size. He opens his legs so Kal can fit in between them, and he presses his big thighs against the kryptonian’s hips, pulling him in closer as the kiss deepens.
Kal moves one of his hands down Bruce’s body, while the other keeps him steady by the waist. He feels each and every muscle down Bruce’s torso, letting out small sounds of approval with each new one he finds. The kiss turns more passionate with each inch Kal moves lower. It grows needy, and so does Bruce.
Carefully, the kryptonian opens Bruce’s pants. At the same time, he moves his lips down towards Bruce’s neck and starts to kiss, suck and bite. Leaving his pale skin covered in marks as he uncovers Bruce’s already painfully hard cock.
“Fuck,” Kal says, after one particular hard bite he left behind, “You are so big, baby.”
“Kal…” Bruce moans. Because what else could he do? Kal slowly wraps his hand around the man’s length. Leaving him dizzy on the toilet sink.
“Yes, baby,” Kal murmurs, lips still pressed to Bruce’s neck, as he starts moving his hand up and down slowly. “You sound so pretty moaning my name.”
“Fuck…” he lets out as Kal starts to pick up the pace. “Look what you’re doing to me.”
“I can feel what I’m doing to you,” Kal says, raising his head to look Bruce in the eyes as his thumb rubs against Bruce’s slit. “So hard, just for me right?”
Bruce nods, and Kal moves his hand up and down again. Leaving Bruce no other choice but to let his body go against the mirror, the surface cracking under his weight. He doesn’t care. Not when he is able to move his hips against Kal’s hand, creating a bigger friction. One that has him whimpering again.
“Look at you,” Kal smiles. “So big and manly. But deep down you’re only a needy whore, aren’t you, baby?”
Dumbly, and without fully taking in what those words mean, Bruce nods.
Kal lets out a chuckle, “Am I making you feel good, baby?”
The only coherent answer Bruce’s brain is capable of mustering is a moan. Perhaps it’s because he hasn’t been touched in a long time ── only by his own hand. Perhaps it’s because it’s Kal touching him. Perhaps it’s because he’s drunk. Perhaps it’s all of the above. Bruce isn’t sure. All he knows is that he has never been in that spot before. Where each sensation feels heightened. Each move feels better than the last.
“What do you want, baby?” Kal asks.
And, well, that is the question, isn’t it?
Bruce has never been with a man before. And he has never given too much thought into what he’d like to do in case he were to be with a man. But since meeting Kal, the thought seems to pop into his head more often than not.
He has a clear scenario he found himself envisioning many nights in a row.
As someone who has held on to control for as long as he could remember, as someone who is in charge of things from a very young age, as someone known for being dominant in many aspects of his life, Bruce wonders what it is like to let go. What it is like to allow someone else to take that spot for once.
From the get go, he knew Kal would be the one responsible for it.
If anyone was to take control away from Bruce, if anyone was to dominate him in return, it would have to be Kal. It couldn’t be anyone else. Bruce would never want for it to be anyone else.
“I want you…” he says, dumbly, as Kal adds more pressure to his movements. Bruce throbs in his hand, begging for more. “I want you inside me… Fuck, Kal. Please.”
“You don’t normally beg, do you?”
Bruce shakes his head no, “Just for you.”
“Good boy.”
The way Kal says those two words alter something deep within Bruce. Something he has never known could be altered.
Kal only stops touching him when he is so close to the edge it hurts.
Again, he manhandles Bruce as if it means nothing, pulling him down from the sink and spinning him around as if he weighs just as much as a feather. Still their height difference makes the kryptonian completely disappear behind him. Kal either doesn’t see it or doesn’t care, he simply uses his new position to pull down Bruce’s pants.
Then and there, Kal falls to his knees.
He starts by kissing and biting the back of Bruce’s thighs. He licks the point where his thigh and ass meet, biting one of Bruce’s cheeks with enough strength to leave a big mark. Bruce tilts his head back, letting out a moan.
See, Bruce is the most hyper aware person he knows. He both fears and hates being perceived by others. To the point that he doesn’t even like making noise or talking in public, just to avoid someone looking his way.
Inside the bar toilet, in his drunken state, he can’t exactly care much about it.
He whimpers and moans as if no one could possibly hear him. And, honestly, with the music blasting in the other room, chances are no one does. But the place is still public, someone could come knocking at the door any moment now. And he still doesn’t care.
Not when Kal keeps biting him, kissing him, not when Kal promptly separates his cheeks. Not when he feels that warm tongue playing with his hole.
Bruce holds on tighter to the sink, leaning his body forward in a way that his ass is higher up. And, because of that, a way that forces Kal’s tongue inside a little bit more.
As someone who has never done anything even remotely close to this, Bruce finds himself weak in the knees by the feeling alone. Unaware that this part of his body could carry and cause this much pleasure, even with the softest of touches. Even with the flick of a tongue. Still, there he is. Whimpering as Kal moves deeper inside, as he plays with Bruce’s sanity and makes that spot wet enough for a finger to move easily in.
Kal doesn’t stop working with his mouth, not even when his finger starts going in and out of Bruce’s hole. Kal licks around the edges, making sure to always keep the spot wet and slippery. Something Bruce imagines must be so that he doesn’t feel any amount of discomfort.
Honestly, it is somewhat painful. But Bruce is so high on desire and so incomprehensibly horny that it doesn’t matter. The pain, in fact, adds to how badly he wants this. Each time it stings, all Bruce is able to do is moan. Especially once the second finger is moving inside him as well. Both in and out and doing some opening motions to create more space for Kal to be let inside.
“Kal…” Bruce calls out. “It’s…”
Kal, who has just inserted the third thinger, raises his head, “Is it hurting?”
Yes, but that’s not the point, “It’s not enough…” is what comes out, Bruce moving his hip back so the fingers go in further. So he feels that jolt of electricity once Kal hits one specific spot. “More, please.”
“I’m too big and you are too tight, baby,” Kal says. “It’s going to hurt you.”
“Please,” he begs. “I need you.”
“Be a bit more patient,” Kal asks. “I promise I’ll make it good.”
Bruce nods, leaning further towards the mirror. To the point that his forehead touches the cold surface as his ass goes up a bit more. Kal lets out a noise, one that shows Bruce he is equally as impatient. He wants it just as bad, if not even more than Bruce himself. And the idea, fuck, the mere idea that Kal could want him just the same makes his cock throb and his hole tighten around Kal’s finger. Begging him to go further inside.
When Kal puts in a fourth finger, Bruce all but screams.
It’s both a noise of pleasure and contemplation. Because how big could Kal possibly be? His anatomy is mostly human, but would that part be any different? The answer is able to scare and excite him at once.
Kal plays with him a little more. Going in and out rapidly now, creating a pace that makes Bruce’s entire body burn in anticipation. He moves his fingers in a way that they keep hitting that sweet spot inside Bruce, the one that gets him to see stars even in the public bathroom.
It takes longer than it should, and yet not long enough, for Kal to remove his fingers.
Before getting up, he outright spits in Bruce’s hole. Just for good measure. And then, finally, Bruce is able to hear the zipper being open.
Curious, he looks over his shoulder. And, fuck… “You are so big,” he whimpers.
“Can you take it all, baby?” Kal asks, stroking himself. “Are you going to be a good boy for me?”
Bruce nods, “Please, I need you in me.”
Kal uses one hand to hold Bruce in place by the waist. He adjusts himself behind him, and uses the other hand to guide himself inside.
It hurts. That’s the first thing Bruce feels. It fucking burns, even. But it is, at the same time, the best feeling he has ever felt. He is slowly getting open by Kal’s length as he moves his hip back ── at the same time Kal thrusts forward. And, once Kal bottoms out, Bruce lets out a sound that feels close to a cry.
But he takes it. In fact, he demands it.
As Kal thrusts, Bruce moves his hip back and forth just to accompany his pace. In a way that each movement seems to go deeper than Kal had intended. It’s excruciating how much more Bruce wants, how deeper he would like Kal to go. How much he’d like to defy logic and science, just to have more of that man.
Then and there, all caution is thrown out the window.
Bruce doesn’t care that there are other people out there. He is even sure he hears someone knocking on the door at some point. Still, nothing else matters. Nothing could ever begin to matter when he is moaning that loud, and when Kal is letting out the most sinful of noises.
“Fuck, baby,” Kal all but roars. “You are so tight.”
“Open me up,” Bruce demands. “Leave me all used up just for you.”
Kal does just that. He pounds into Bruce with such force that the sink starts to visibly shake. a reminder of all the strength that man has cursing through his veins. He is violent with each thrust, and nearly sends Bruce over the edge with it.
With his free hand, Kal moves it to the front of Bruce’s body. While with the other he forces Bruce to fully stand up and look at himself in the mirror, “Look how hot you are,” Kal tells him. But Bruce is not looking at himself. No. He is staring at Kal’s moving hand. The one going for his cock. The one that starts touching him.
Bruce’s legs shake. Truly, he is sure Kal is the only reason he doesn’t fall to his knees then and there.
But Kal doesn’t seem to matter. In fact, he seems to enjoy being the one thing preventing the man from collapsing as he strokes him eagerly. With the same pace he uses to thrust inside Bruce. In and out, up and down.
Bruce is not sure what does it, what sends him over the edge. But when he comes it’s a messy and violent thing. He comes all over the sink and the mirror, leaving the entire place dirty with the memory of that moment.
Kal still doesn’t let go of him. He keeps Bruce riding that high up until the last possible second, stroking him with the same amount of pressure as before. Making his legs give up once and for all, but still holding him in place.
His hole tightens up, and Kal’s movements become erratic until he is able to feel something warm flowing inside him.
Kal presses his forehead against Bruce’s back, letting out a noise.
“You are so good,” he tells the taller man. “I could have you all night.”
“You still can…” Bruce says, breathing heavily. “Let’s go to my place.”