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Fuck or Marry? (Kill is not at option)

Summary:

What happens when you accidentally listen in on a game of fuck, marry, kill and you’re one of the options? Not as Bruce Wayne-but as Batman.

—-

Based off a tiktok I saw that I believe was just narrating a tumblr post.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

It’s when Batman steps out of the zeta tube, computerised voice loudly announcing his arrival, that he suddenly pauses at the sight of three members of the Justice League standing within the next room.

‘Recognised, Batman, 02.’

Superman. Wonder Woman. Green Lantern. Stood in the formation of a circle. Clark has his arms crossed before him, finger tapping quietly against his arm as Hal speaks. Diana rolls her eyes, hands moving from relaxing by her sides to stilling at her hips.

Hal’s voice is almost a whisper-quiet enough that Batman cannot hear from where he stands. Batman steps closer quietly, staying hidden behind the wall. He strains to listen in-the initial plan of looking through security footage forgotten-curiosity overtaking his priorities for a moment.

None of the heads turn towards him, seemingly having not heard of his arrival. However, he notices how Clark seems to twitch. His head turns only the slightest bit, eyes shifting towards where Batman stands behind the wall for a moment, before he turns to Diana.

Batman stands still, breath stolen by the words that next leave Clark’s lips.

“No. I mean, if we’re playing, I’d fuck you.” Clark’s hand raises and gestures at Diana, a smile on his lips. “It would be a wonderful night-”

“And all the way into the morning, obviously.” Diana interrupts, trying her best to hide a smirk. Hal rolls his eyes but urges Clark on.

“Obviously,” Clark agrees with an easy grin, “And I’d marry Batman. Sorry Hal, you’ll have to go.”

Clark has the cheek to look sheepish, shoulders raising in a half-hearted shrug when Hal’s mouth drops in shock.

Hal sputters for a moment, hands raising in outrage. “You’d marry him? Over me?!” His voice grows louder, nearly shouting by the end.

Clark’s face straightens out, a small frown between his eyebrows and a small tick in his lips to show his displeasure. “Well yeah? Have you seen him?”

Diana nods where she’s stood at his side, looking at Hal with her face half covered by a hand, amused smile hidden from view. Clark brings a hand before himself, all fingers lowered as he stares down at his closed fist.

“You take the chance to fuck Wonder Woman if you get it.” He opens his pointer finger, starting to list off his reasoning. “Marrying Batman guarantees some cool gadgets.” He opens another finger. “Some awesome nerdy banter and awful coffee.” Two more fingers come down before he looks up at Hal with a wide grin, eyes crinkling with pride.

“And obviously I’d get to use the little ears on his cowl as handles when I bend him over the breakfast table every morning.” He holds up an open hand, chest out proudly, five reasons listed and laid out simply-there’s no questioning his decision. Clark hears Batman take in a sudden deep inhale.

Hal only looks at him in shock as Diana laughs, hand over her mouth and the other clutching at her stomach. It’s Batman whose reaction Clark cares about, and he listens in to the Bat’s heartbeat as it quickens, almost stuttering within the man’s chest, before it levels out to its normal pace.

Batman makes his appearance known then, stepping foot in the room. His shoulders are tense, fists clenched at his sides as he stiffly makes his way. Three heads turn towards him quickly and he ignores them all as he walks past them and into the computer room, suddenly remembering the reason for his visit to the Watchtower to begin with.

“Spooky! Hey!” Hal tries to call out for him, huffing when his greeting is ignored. Diana sighs and shakes her head, looking at the closed door of the room Batman had disappeared into.

Clark stares at the door longingly for a moment before looking away, almost ashamed, regretful of his words when he had known Batman was there. A bad reaction to his words is obviously what Batman had just shown.

“He heard, didn’t he?” Hal huffs, looking up at Clark curiously. Clark only nods, finger coming up to rub at his jaw nervously. Diana’s head snaps up towards him at that, eyes widening. She steps forward, hand on Clark’s arm.

“He won’t be upset. He’s heard worse from Hal. Not to mention the fact he’s smart enough to realise we were playing a game.” Hal lets out a loud “Hey!” at Diana’s jab at him but is ultimately ignored when she continues speaking. She smiles at Clark softly and he relaxes, arms falling by his sides as he nods.

“I know. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so…vulgar.” He winces and looks toward the door again curiously, listening in and hearing Batman’s heartbeat speed up once more before it levels out. He hears loud breathing, a small voice cursing him out, and then a groan. Clark’s eyes widen, mouth opening slightly in surprise and decides to stop listening in-giving the Bat the privacy he so clearly wants. He looks down at Diana and shrugs at her frown.

“Humans are such prudes.” She huffs out, brushing a hand through her hair and looking at Hal accusingly.

“Why are you looking at me like that? What did I do?” He looks at her exasperated, a groan leaving his lips as he looks up at the ceiling.

There’s a sudden loud bang! and then Diana is rushing toward the closed room, opening the door quickly. Hal follows seconds later, curiosity pushing him to almost jog after Diana. Clark hesitates behind, his steps slower but no less urgent. He can hear Batman’s ragged breaths, his heartbeat a lot faster than it should be-almost like the Bat can barely control it.

Batman is standing bowed over the computer, chair lying on the floor behind him, and papers crumpled in his hands which are set on the desk. He’s breathing deeply, a slight flush on his cheeks, hands shaking just the tiniest bit, and somehow Clark is the only one who notices. Diana walks forward to pick up the chair, setting it in place and checking on Batman, hand on his lower back. She whispers to him softly, asking if he’s okay, and Batman nods quickly with a grimace on his face.

Hal stands by the door, arms crossed as he looks on curiously. He rolls his eyes once he notices the crumpled papers. “Spooky. The hell happened?”

“Nothing.” Batman answers gruffly, standing up straight and cracking his knuckles. “Leave. You should be training.”

Hal rolls his eyes. “Sure. Whatever. I’m off.” He mutters and pushes past Clark, not wanting to deal with the tense energy within the room.

Diana stays put, frown on her face, as her hand shifts to Batman’s shoulder and grips tightly. Batman shrugs her arm off, standing straighter and crossing his arms over his chest, gaze on the computer before him.

“I’m sorry. For what I said. If that’s what upset you.” Clark tries to apologise, a meter away behind Batman. He rubs his neck nervously, eyes meeting Diana’s briefly before he looks once more at Batman’s back. There’s only silence in reply, almost piercing within the room, and Clark feels the regret bubble in his throat once more.

“Diana.” Batman whispers. “Leave us.” She hesitates, hand tightening before she sighs and lets go, pinching at her nose bridge for a moment.

“Fine. Don’t kill him.” Her gaze narrows on Batman. Diana turns around stiffly, making her way out. She slaps Clark on the back lightly when she passes him, a comforting smile on her face. He tries to smile back and knows the expression on his face is more a grimace.

Diana closes the door behind her.

Suddenly, Clark feels his back hit that same door and he startles at the feeling of Batman’s-no, Bruce’s-hands gripping at his collar. Bruce looks up at him with narrowed eyes, lip between his teeth.

“Did you mean it?” Bruce asks rushed, words leaving his mouth in one breath. His lips ghost over Clark’s, his nose brushing against the other’s, and all Clark can see is the endless blue of Bruce’s eyes.

“Depends.” Clark whispers, hands covering Bruce’s where they stay clenched at his collar. Bruce pulls him forward and slams him back against the door.

“On what?” He growls and the only thought in Clark’s head is ‘How cute.’ His silence is not appreciated however, and Bruce’s patience turns thin.

Lips crash together, teeth against teeth, and Clark’s eyes widen as his brain takes its time to process. Bruce tries to pull away and Clark refuses, gripping at the other, pressing deeper, pushing him back against the desk and settling between his legs.

Bruce groans softly and Clark swallows it, eats up every noise made like it’s his last meal-a man on death row. He grips at Bruce’s waist enough he hears the bones creak and only pauses when the Bat hisses in pain. Clark pulls away immediately, looking down at the other and loosening his grip. They both take deep breaths-despite the fact Clark knows he has no need to breathe. Bruce stares up at him in a slight daze and Clark wants nothing more than to pull off the cowl, to brush his fingers through the black hair he’s only ever been able to see from afar.

His fingers slide up Bruce’s side, up his chest and pause at his neck-pulling at the edge of the cowl, a small whine asking to be released at the back of his throat. He’s close to getting onto his knees and begging for Bruce to take off the cowl, to promise to pull his own eyes out the sockets as long as he can at least trace along the features of the other. There is no need for such violence, however, as his prayers are answered when Bruce’s hands cover his own and guide him to pull off the cowl. It falls behind Bruce and Clark can’t help but let his eyes look at every feature before him.

He drinks in the smudged black around Bruce’s eyes, imagines it dripping down as tears fall, imagines helping wash it off after a long day, and his fingers trace along the man’s cheekbones longingly.

Bruce leans forward and captures his lips once more, tangling his fingers within Clark’s hair. Clark stumbles, hands landing on the other’s thighs to catch himself, and he takes the opportunity to grip at the muscle and pull. To pull himself further between Bruce’s legs, closer together. Bruce moans into his mouth, fingers pulling at the hair on the back of Clark’s neck.

Clark pulls them closer, gripping at the bottom of Bruce’s thighs and pulling him up. He presses the outline of his cock against Bruce, groans leaving his lips as he grinds against the Kevlar plates.

One leg hooks over his shoulder and he takes the opportunity to press Bruce back, lips following after him as he’s laid down on the desk. The kiss is softer though just as hurried, small bites and licks rather than the painful press it was at first.

Clark pulls away from Bruce’s lips and grinds down, enjoying the sound of the groan against his ear. He smiles against Bruce’s neck, pushes down once more and revels in the arch of Bruce’s back.

“Harder.” Bruce grits out, his fingers pulling at Clark’s hair to reveal his neck, leaning forward to bite against the junction between neck and shoulder.

Clark abides-pressing down harder, turning more hurried as Bruce’s groans turn into gasps.

It’s within that rush that Clark feels Bruce tense up, a loud moan echoing within the room as he arches, leg muscles clenching under Clark’s grip. He cums, mouth slightly open as his eyes clench shut. Clark moves faster, pressing wet kisses against Bruce’s jaw until his own groan vibrates within his chest and against Bruce’s neck.

They stay still, only loud breaths heard within the room. Bruce groans when he feels discomfort at the wetness at his crotch and Clark moves only enough to look down at the other’s face.

The black has smudged around his eyes, patchy along the areas where tears threatened to fall. Clark only smirks in response and pulls away, looking down at their hips.

“Shower?” Clark whispers.

“Yes.” Bruce grunts as his leg kicks out.

And then neither of them even twitch, staring into each other’s eyes. Clark leans down to press a soft kiss, longer than the others but nowhere near as rushed.

“Thought you wanted to fuck me with the cowl on?” Bruce murmurs against Clark’s lips, a teasing smile spreading quickly as he flutters his eyes open. He’s breathing deeply, chest rising and lowering faster than when in the most intense of battles.

Clark startles, blush spreading to his ears. Their foreheads come together, looking softly into each other’s eyes.

“That’s after I marry you.” Clark whispers, pressing a soft kiss-too soft after what just happened-onto Bruce’s nose.

Notes:

First posted fanfiction kinda nervous :>