Work Text:
Batman was in a foul mood as he strode from the Watchtower’s hangar bay, trailed by Wonder Woman and Hawkgirl. The two women were completely ignoring his brooding and were carrying on a conversation as they walked.
“How could I have known that giant space squid was a fertility goddess?”
Diana scowled. “Maybe if you had stopped to think before initiating an attack we might have had more information.”
“It ate the Javelin! That is an act of aggression, I merely retaliated.” Hawkgirl replied, waving her hammer wildly. Bruce ducked slightly to avoid being clobbered in the head.
Wonder Woman rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath. “Thanagarians…”
Bruce steadfastly ignored them. He didn’t give in to joining the League to spend his time gallivanting around the universe getting sucked into every war, planetary disaster or cosmic cephalopod. His role here was taking him further and further away from his city. His bones ached for Gotham; for shadowed rooftops, fetid alleys and the wail of police sirens along crowded streets. He snarled to himself, wallowing in his black mood. Quickening his pace he walked away from the women, leaving them arguing in the corridor, and headed towards his quarters.
His scowl deepened as he saw the Big Blue Lump waiting for him outside his door. Bruce mentally sighed. They’d been lovers for almost two years and Clark still wouldn’t enter Bruce’s quarters without him being there. This had become a ritual for them by now when Bruce was offworld or deep in the bowels of Gotham for extended periods of time. Clark would wait for him then play Twenty Billion Questions until Bruce finally got him into bed and shut him up. He was mentally composing the first answers (I’m fine. Long. No. Yes, I missed you too…) as he approached the other man, but something in Clark’s eyes slowed his thoughts. Clark opened his mouth as Bruce stopped before him but nothing came out. Instead strong hands gripped him by his armoured breastplate and Bruce felt the Kevlar twist under the pressure. Clark pulled him roughly up to meet his mouth, drawing him into a passionate kiss. There was a clash of lips and teeth as Clark drove his tongue into Bruce’s mouth, plundering. Bruce responded with enthusiasm, his gloved hands clinging to Clark’s biceps. The kiss seemed to go on for hours - an endless slide of tongues. Bruce had just relaxed into it and started to lean against Clark, dark mood entirely forgotten, when Clark stepped backwards sharply into the doorway. The door automatically slid open and Bruce was dragged into his own room, faltering slightly as Clark still held him up on his toes. He was released as soon as the doors closed behind them. Bruce took a deep breath, a smile forming on his face.
“Well that’s-“
Clark had disappeared into the small bathroom, but was back on him in seconds, profile blurring through superspeed. He grabbed Bruce again and pushed him face first onto the bed. Bruce landed with a gasp, instantly turning to face Clark. “Hey-“
Clark didn’t speak a word. He placed a large hand on the back of Bruce’s head and pushed him back down into the mattress, climbing onto the bed and straddling his waist. Okay, no talking, Bruce mused. Another hand gripped the back of his suit and simply pulled, ripping away the reinforced Kevlar and leather like it was paper. Clark tossed it on the floor behind him, dark silken cape fluttering as it fell. Bruce’s armoured pants didn’t survive much longer and soon he was almost naked, only his cowl and heavy boots remaining. Bruce gasped at the sudden cool air against so much skin and the weight on his back grinding his suddenly very hard cock into the mattress. He barely had time to savor the sensation before Clark was pressed down against him, his skin piercingly hot against Bruce’s back and his own erection very noticeable against Bruce’s arse. A shower of kisses and bites covered Bruce’s shoulders. Clark then turned to lap at the pulse point on his neck through the cowl. Bruce moaned wetly and tried to turn his head to entice Clark to remove the cowl, but the hand was still heavy on his head, holding him down. He writhed against the weight covering his body, trying to regain a slither of control, and earned a sharp bite on his shoulder for his efforts. Bruce moaned loudly and felt Clark’s lips smile in response against his skin. Clark still didn’t utter a word, using his tongue for much more intimate purposes.
Suddenly that world of warmth and pressure disappeared and Bruce whined at the loss. Strong hands moved to grip his bare hips, pulling them upward, then one arm wrapped around his waist just too high to touch his painfully hard cock. Bruce was suspended, resting on his knees and cheek, arse in the air. A pause and then a cool, slick finger stretched him, quickly followed by another. Bruce hissed at the burn, fingers curling into the sheets as he struggled to relax his body. Clark slowly withdrew his fingers then thrust them in sharply, making Bruce yell. Another finger was soon added and Bruce found remembering to breathe a challenge. He panted and moaned as the solid digits thrust into him, opening him up and stretching him wide. Bruce’s cock bounced in time with the movement, aching for friction and finding none. He lost himself in the sensation and the rhythm of being fucked by Clark. When Clark stopped abruptly and withdrew his fingers Bruce almost went mad. But the absence was brief and soon he felt the hot press of Clark’s slicked cock against his hole. Bruce closed his eyes and groaned as Clark pressed forward, sliding deep in one slow movement. His whole body trembled. Clark was maddeningly still within him. Bruce pushed back against him, muscles flexing. Clark’s head tipped back and his other hand gripped Bruce’s hip again, hard enough to bruise. He started to move, slowly at first, then building speed. Bruce relaxed completely, held up only by Clark’s arm around his waist. Clark’s breathing was loud even above his own moans and the wet, slick noises where their bodies joined. He shifted slightly, changing angle, and started to hit Bruce’s prostate on each stroke. Bruce yelled and rose up on his hands, pushing backwards against the cock deep within in. Clark pushed his head back down against the mattress with one hand then shifted his other arm to form a fist around Bruce’s cock, using the motion of his thrusts to slide it between his fingers. Five seconds later Bruce’s world exploded into a million points of light. He came hard, body spasming and sending hot spurts of come against his stomach. Bruce collapsed as the world slowly ebbed back into focus. Clark continued to thrust into his limp body, striving towards his own climax. It seemed like hours, Bruce boneless and gasping with each strong thrust. When Clark finally came he broke his silence, screaming Bruce's name into the ceiling. He collapsed beside his lover, legs tangling, and both were asleep within minutes.
Bruce awoke hours later sticky and aching. His legs were numb from the weight of Clark's own laying across them. He hissed and wriggled out from underneath their warmth, wincing as his body protested at the movement. Oh god he ached. Everywhere. It was glorious. He gingerly rolled off the bed and staggered into the small bathroom. He caught sight of himself in the small mirror, and barked a laugh at his appearance – disarrayed cowl, boots and sticky skin. He removed what little he was still wearing and hit the shower taps. The stream of hot water was breathtaking, washing him clean and ebbing away the aches and pains. He took his time under the pounding water. When he did finally emerge from the steaming room Clark was awake. He eyed Bruce nervously from where he was sprawled on the bed.
“B, I'm so sorry.”
“Don't. God, Clark that was amazing.” he walked to the bed, clad only in a towel around his hips, and climbed up to straddle Clark. He captured his lover's face with both hands and leaned down to kiss him. Clark looked up at him stunned, guilt still in his eyes. “We should do that again. Soon.”
Clark didn't look convinced. Bruce threw off the towel and grabbed Clark by the arms, dragging him back into the shower.
---
Despite Bruce's earlier misgivings about interstellar missions he actually volunteered for the next Javelin trip, just to see if he could elicit a similar response from Clark upon his return. Sadly, it didn't work, although the resulting questions from Clark led to a conversation on pulsar formation was quite stimulating and gave Bruce a few ideas for increasing the range of the Batsignal.
The next three trips also failed to produce the desired results, but Bruce tried anyway. For, you know, scientific repeatability.
---
After a few months Batman eventually gave up, and started focusing exclusively on Gotham again. A number of villains, new and old, had started acting up in his absence. The villain he was currently trailing was certainly new... but he was getting old fast.
“You'll never catch me, Batman!” the Dodo cackled as he stood in the centre of the street. He turned and walked briskly down the middle of the road, cars squealing and honking as they swerved around him. Batman, from his perch among the gargoyles atop Gotham Bank, rolled his eyes. This new adversary, and he used the term loosely, didn't seem to want anything other than give him a headache. He had thousands of henchmen scattered across the city but none of them had any weapons or indeed any notion of all of fighting. All Batman had to do was walk up and restrain them (okay, so maybe he'd punched a few out... but just a few), then secure them for the police to pick them up. Admittedly this wasn't very strenuous, but he was being run ragged all over the city catching them all and was starting to run out of zip strips for handcuffs.
The leader was still merrily walking down South St, causing chaos with the traffic. Batman shot off a grapple hook and swung over to a low building ahead of the Dodo's meandering path. The move was simple enough Batman could do it with his eyes closed, but mid-swing the world seemed to just turn. His head spun and his stomach roiled and he lost all sense of direction. He let go of the line too early and fell sharply to land in an alleyway, cushioned by piles of garbage. He rolled out of the stinking mess to his hands and knees, breathing harshly. The noise of his impact had caught the attention of the Dodo, who ran over to him and started hitting him over the head with a bat. It was a small foam one designed for kids, and it was damn annoying.
“Stop it.” he growled in his best Batman voice, but the effect was ruined when he was on his knees. “Stop it!”
Mercifully, the Dodo suddenly disappeared in a blur of red and blue. Bruce sat back on his knees in the stinking alley, not trusting his legs or his aching head. He closed his eyes, focusing on the beat of the city around him. A few minutes later another sound appeared much closer by, the sudden scuff of boots on concrete. And something big and warm standing in front of him.
“Bruce?”
He ignored the voice.
“Bruce?” A solid hand landed on his shoulder and shook him gently.
“Don't call me...”
A sigh. “Batman? Are you OK?”
Batman's mouth twisted. “I'll be fine, just give me a minute.”
“C'mon, I'll get you home.”
“No, I need to...”
Clark gently shook his shoulder again
Bruce's stomach did one final backflip and he puked all over Superman's shiny red boots.
---
This was demeaning, being carted through the Watchtower like an invalid. However, Clark had been insistent that Bruce go to the infirmary so here they were. Bruce was feeling perfectly fine now and had wanted to continue his patrol, but Kryptonians could be quite persuasive. And stubborn. And stupid. Bruce sighed and shifted the arm Clark held draped over his shoulder. He considered punching Clark in the face to let him go, but a broken hand would only compound matters really. Thankfully the corridors were desert-
Damn it, he jinxed himself.
Wally was walking towards them, his face brightening as he spotted them. “Heya Supes, Bats. Man, you don't look so good B.”
Bruce snorted.
“Hi Wally. Can you help me get Bruce to the sick bay? He's a little... under the weather.”
Bruce almost swore. Clark certainly didn't need help moving Bruce. Hell, Bruce didn't need help moving Bruce. This was one of those stubborn you-need-to-learn-to-let-people-help-you deals Clark had been going on about lately. Bruce sneered and tried to pull away, but felt Clark's hand tighten on his arm. He changed tactics, giving Wally his best I-am-going-to-make-you-die look. The redhead looked between the two men nervously, then carefully took up Bruce's free arm. Damn it. The three of them stumbled down the corridor to the infirmary.
The room wasn't empty when they arrived. J'onn, Shayera and Diana were all present, looking at readouts on the screen. The three new arrivals paused at the doorway, and Bruce frowned beneath the cowl.
“Superman, Batman, Flash. Is something wrong?” J'onn asked.
“Uh, Bruce is ill. Is something wrong here?”
The two women shared equally cryptic glances and J'onn shifted on his feet. The tension in the room was unmistakable.
“Please, Batman, take a seat.” J'onn gestured to an empty medical bed. Bruce grudgingly sat down, Clark and Wally hovering nearby. J'onn pointedly looked at Diana, before walking over and initiating a medical scanner over Bruce's bed. The scan took a few minutes to complete.
“I am glad you're here, Batman, as I was about to call. It appears there might be some... side effects from one of your missions.” Bruce scowled, eyeing Diana and Shayera. They didn't appear sick, but neither looked particularly happy either. Clark was standing beside him frowning, arms crossed over his expansive chest.
“Is something wrong, Diana?” Clark asked.
The Amazon smiled tightly. “I appear to be... pregnant.”
Bruce froze. Wally dropped the bandage he was fiddling with and swore. Clark blinked.
“Wow, that's, er... Congratulations!” Clark stammered.
“Cool. Steve's one lucky guy.” Wally chimed in.
Diana nodded in return, but there was something about her eyes that made the gesture forced. Batman's brain suddenly kicked into overdrive despite his woozy stomach – something wasn't right. Shayera was studiously avoiding the conversation, staring out a window into space.
The scanner beeped as the scan finished and attention was diverted to Bruce. J'onn frowned deeply when he saw the readout, Clark peering over his shoulder.
“What?” Batman demanded.
“Hmmm. This is certainly unusual.” the Martian replied cryptically.
“What?”
J'onn eyed Bruce warily, and took a step backwards from the bed he was sitting on.
“There are some anomalous readings in your physiology.”
Bruce gave him his best deadpan glare. J'onn took another step backwards, and bumped into Clark who was still peering over his shoulder. The medical readouts mustn't have mad much sense to him; he gave Bruce a helpless shrug.
“According to this scan here, you also are,” J'onn's voice dropped to almost a whisper, “pregnant.”
It felt as if the entire world just crashed around Bruce's ears. Because that's just... what? Impossible. Clark's eyes were wide and his eyebrows had disappeared into his hairline.
“Dude, that's not possible. Bats is a dude. Right?” Wally said.
Nobody moved in the slightest.
“Right?” Wally repeated nervously.
“Yes, of course I am!” Bruce snapped at him, but kept his eyes fixed on J'onn. The Martian was looking decidedly uncomfortable.
“So how...?” Clark asked.
“That stupid squid.” Shayera finally joined the conversation from her position by the window. “That damn, stupid squid.”
“She was a goddess.” Diana countered.
J'onn cleared his throat to interrupt. “It appears the entity you encountered altered your biochemistry in some way.” He glanced over to the women in the room. “Both Hawkgirl and Wonder Woman are also with child.”
“Woah, really? Who's the lucky guy, eh?” Wally sped over to Shayera and nudged her with his elbow. He blitzed away again just in time to avoid receiving a hammer to the head.
Diana took a deep breath. “Shayera and I are pregnant to each other.”
Every pair of eyes in the room looked at her. “We were arguing after that mission, and then we... it... it doesn't matter! We've been compromised by an external force, and we need to fix this.” Wonder Woman leaped to her feet, standing tall. The authoritative pose elicited no reaction at all from anyone else in the room.
Bruce watched with detached curiosity as every thought in his head ground to a halt. Diana and Shayera...? Together. Together together. In the hallway? Why hadn't he known about this? Okay, so he was a little preoccupied at the time. But still... Wally's jaw was hanging open. Clark looked stunned, his eyes unfocused and obviously contemplating something.
“Whu, how, but, what? ... How does that even work? You're girls! You don't have... the, y'know. Stuff!” Wally was making superfluous and slightly obscene gestures. Diana's eyes narrowed.
“Nothing of this situation makes biological sense, Flash.” J'onn interrupted.
“Huh.” Clark finally spoke, but was clearly still dazed.
“So now what?” Batman demanded. His eyes met Diana's across the room. “This is an intolerable situation.” The Amazon nodded in agreement. “Get rid of it.”
“What? No! Bruce!” Clark yelled and leaped to his side. “Don't I get a-”
“No.” The Bat snapped. “Get rid of it.” He looked pointedly at J'onn.
The Martian looked between Bruce, Clark and Diana beseechingly. Batman's eyes were hard, Diana looked less cold, but equally adamant. Shayera was still holding back in the background, looking decidedly undecided.
“Right, it's decided. J'onn arrange for-” Batman's commanding rasp was drowned out by the Watchtower's alarms suddenly blaring into life. As one the room full of heroes turned and ran to the door, reaching the Monitor Room in less than a minute. Green Lantern was in the monitor chair, but was staring open mouthed up into the transparent ceiling. Above the station a giant, sprawling creature hung in space. An endless cascade of colour streamed across its skin and down it's many long tentacles; the reflection of the Watchtower hung in its large round eye.
“It's that thing!” Shayera yelled, pulling her hammer out of her belt and launching into the air. Lightening fast Diana grabbed her by the ankle and yanked her back to the floor with an exasperated air. Hawkgirl glared at her, but the fire in Diana's eyes kept her mouth shut. The squid turned a dark shade of red, swinging two long tentacles to lash at the Watchtower. The entire structure shook violently to the sound of twisting metal. John's fingers danced across the control panel as he gathered information on the station's new visitor. Batman strode over to start scans of his own on a free console.
“It's, um... It's a giant squid. In space. And it appears to be pissed.”John announced. He glanced over his shoulder to cock an eyebrow at Bruce. Bruce was passive underneath the cowl.
“We should arm defenses!” Shayera yelled. John's hands were already hovering over the controls.
“No.” Diana stepped forward, hand raised. “Do not harm the goddess.” The last statement got a number of blank and quizzical looks from the rest of the League.
She stood apart from the group and addressed the creature above. “We will not harm the lives you have bestowed upon us. We promise. Please, go in peace.”
The squid hovered above, pulsing slowly through shades of gold and green. Everyone below held their breaths. Slowly tentacles were collected below the huge body and it stately sailed off into space.
There was stunned silence below.
“Well that was... weird.”
Wally chuckled. “Ixnay on the bortiona-ay then, eh?” Diana sneered and left, Shayera following in her footsteps. J'onn watched them depart then left also, with a sharp look at Wally. “What?” Wally shrugged and sped off to the kitchen. Clark walked over to the monitors, standing close behind Bruce. He reached to touch the Kevlar clad shoulder but the Bat snarled and pulled away, abandoning his scans. Clark sighed sadly and took to the air, spiraling slowly up into the high domed room and then slipping out of sight.
“Okay,” John said to the empty room, “I really wish someone would explain what just happened.”