Well, I stumble through the dark and light a candle...

[silver_lined]

Leaving their younger versions behind, he gave Bruce's hand a soft, careful squeeze before tugging him the rest of the way through the warp hole. He wasn't about let him lose a limb to being a smart ass, after all. And it was hell to replace the pieces of the exo-suit.

"I ought to kick your ass for that, Bruce," he said with a sigh as they made their way back into his own Fortress. It was a bit darker, a little more full, and dustier. Definitely dustier. He'd never quite be able to undo the damage that eight years of neglect had done on the place.

Comments

[beyondthebat]

He moved away only to immediately start getting out of that damned suit. He needed it, but he resented needing it - even now - and frankly the fucking thing was a pain in his ass. "Do I?" he asked, with utterly false innocence. "I don't remember. My mind's going."

[silver_lined]

Clark walked over to start pulling off the pieces of the suit it'd practically become instinct to remove: the feet, the ankles, the legs, some of the back.

"Ass."

He pressed a kiss to Bruce's shoulder, since he was at the right spot.

[beyondthebat]

It had been more than half a century with the guy, and Bruce was still an ass, but he was pretty well used to Clark helping him undress. Needing Clark to get him out of that suit and needing the suit -

He wasn't ever going to get used to, but he'd learned to have a little grace about both. It wore thin sometimes, but now wasn't one of those times. For lots of reasons.

He leaned back against Clark once the suit was more or less gone. Gravity fucking hurt at this stage of the game. For the time he was likely to stay up, it was fine and Clark made it worth it.

He closed his eyes briefly, and gave a very, very soft snort. "That's my shoulder, Clark. You sure your mind's not going?"

God, he loved this man.

[silver_lined]

"My mind's been going since that boat too," he answered as he carefully lowered and positioned Bruce in the bed. "After all, I kissed you back."

Clark had made the bed according to Bruce's specifications for the most amount of mobility and the greatest comfort. It, and it's duplicate at the manor, were where Bruce spent most of his time these days when he was out of the suit.

"Let me know when you're settled and I'll put on the antigrav."

That was only available up in the Fortress which was why they'd been spending more and more time up north.

[beyondthebat]

Bruce adjusted his own pillows and settled in a sort of semi-reclined position with a flicker of - something indistinct across his face. Discomfort, annoyance, side of thinking seriously about snarling and snapping at Clark.

Then he just leaned back and sighed. "I'm fine, Clark. Just turn the damned thing on and come to bed."

Clark couldn't just stay in bed with him all the time, of course. Clark was still Superman. Bruce would enjoy the company while he had it, though.

[silver_lined]

He turned it on and settled in the bed beside Bruce, leaning up against the pillow that Bruce was reclining against as he reached over to put his hand lightly over Bruce's heart.

"I was coming, you grumpy old bastard," he said before leaning up for another kiss to his shoulder.

[beyondthebat]

Bruce grunted in acknowledgement and put his hand over Clark's, resting against his chest. "I resent the implications that my parents weren't married when they had me," he said, quietly.

He squeezed Clark's hand a tiny bit, but also closed his eyes.

"We're spending too much time here...." He hadn't meant to say that aloud. The Manor wasn't... what it had been in some ways, maybe, and it was certainly more empty, but.

[silver_lined]

"You transcended married parents to become a bastard on your own merits," he said as he leaned up and pressed a kiss to Bruce's cheek, right near the corner of his mouth. He was quiet for a moment before--

"You shouldn't have spent so much on that. I got here, didn't I?"

[beyondthebat]

Bruce turned his head and kissed Clark properly - or, well, maybe not properly by the standards of a much younger man, but better than a kiss on the cheek. He let go of Clark's hand, curled it around his cheek and kissed him firmly on the mouth.

"That isn't what I meant." He didn't think. He waved it away and curled his fingers around Clark's again. "It isn't important. Yes, you got here."

[silver_lined]

"I meant the trip to the past," he said once the kiss was done. "I'm not a complete idiot."

[beyondthebat]

"Yes, you are." It was totally automatic, and utterly without heat. Yes, he was tired and he was sure he'd scared the hell out of Clark. "That was worth every bit of it, and I'd do it again." No regrets there, none at all. "You needed a kick in the pants." And then his hand went to Clarks shoulder, since grabbing his own was both awkward and not nearly as effective.

[silver_lined]

"You just wanted a good look at me when I was young and pretty," he teased back before leaning down to kiss that hand so gently.

[beyondthebat]

"I did not," he protested, in a dry tone that left no doubt as to his opinion of that. "You weren't young and pretty. You looked about twelve."

He accepted the kiss then eased his hand free and maybe he was kind of restless, maybe he was just using one hand to compensate for not moving anything else, but he slid his fingers lightly through the silver streak in Clark's hair. Gently. Lovingly.

He'd learned a thing or three over the years.

[silver_lined]

"I'm sad we didn't get to see you then," and his eyes were closed as he spoke, leaning into Bruce's fingers.

"If I was twelve, you were probably still in shortpants."

[beyondthebat]

"You'll have other opportunities," he murmured, almost absently. "Feel free to mock me soundly for being an uptight, pretentious, ass."

Not that he wasn't still all of those things, of course.

He kept his fingers moving through Clark's hair. He still enjoyed - no enjoyed and appreciated so much more - the fact that Clark would just yield and give and relax when Bruce touched him. That he could still give that to Clark.

[silver_lined]

"Why would I do that when I can spend every one of those moments kissing you?" he asked with a slow purr as he leaned into the touch and turned carefully to press a few kisses.

[beyondthebat]

Because sooner or later spending moments kissing him was going to be both creepy and gross, Bruce's not at all really going mind, and still dark sense of humor supplied.

He left it alone. He couldn't force that on Clark and it wasn't all that urgent, anyway.

"To mock him. Pay attention."

He simply made a low sound in his throat and took advantage of the lowered gravity to hoist himself over onto his side. That - hurt, fairly badly actually. His body reacted to that pain and Bruce just - pushed it aside as best he could.

It was worth it for the ability to properly get his hand into Clark's hair. More importantly it let him kiss Clark back, sweet and soft.

[silver_lined]

He wanted to reach out, reach over, put him back in the right position. He knew how much pain Bruce must be in, could see his nerves screaming, but to tell him the danger would be to tell him other things. Things he wouldn't tell Bruce. Not when he was kissing him. Not when his hand was in his hair.

He always paid attention to Bruce. Always.

[beyondthebat]

Bruce didn't stop kissing Clark until he was good and well done kissing him, but then he put himself back in a position that didn't make a body he'd broken and abused for decades try and exact revenge on him.

He left his hand in Clark's hair, anyway, closed his eyes and waited for a second or two for the protest to stop and to catch his breath.

And pretended to be completely diverted while he did it. In truth, he more or less was.

[silver_lined]

Clark let him lose his fingers in his hair and shifted his head the tiniest amount to move his fingers without his own effort.

He'd let his eyes close, but he peeked one open to see Bruce's eyes. He loved Bruce's eyes. They were still the most beautiful ice blue. Always had been, always would be.

His hand reached up and stroked Bruce's cheek. The skin was soft, papery, but it was Bruce's. And he could still see the faint sheen of rainbow light around Bruce that he'd loved to watch for years.

[beyondthebat]

Bruce was exhausted. He wrote it off as a result of his trip into the past, and that was a large part of it. The minimal effort involved in rolling over and kissing Clark - and the pain caused by it - played a role, too.

It frustrated him, anyway. It frustrated him enough that even as exhaustion and the warmth of Clark's fingers on his cheek eased him toward sleep (if only because they were warm, Clark's, and soothing), Bruce fought it like hell. Actually growled through his teeth, just a bit.

"You know I can tell when you fake it."

[silver_lined]

"Who's faking anything?" he asked as he opened the eye a little further.

"I'm just seesawing between one pleasure and another. I like looking at you."

[beyondthebat]

"Sleeping with one eye open to watch me?" he asked, sounding impossibly fond as well as a little exasperated. He tightened his fingers and gave Clark's hair a gentle tug - even by old man standards. "You're allowed to sleep, Clark. Look at me later."

He spent time here. There would be a book and reading glasses around for him in reach.

[silver_lined]

"I'm allowed to sleep when I'm tired," he huffed back before turning to give that arm a kiss to the inside. "I'm going to grab a book and settle in for a bit. Nothing pressing."

[beyondthebat]

"I promise not to make another unsolicited trip until at least tomorrow," he said, a little drily. He let go of Clark, though, and switched hands to reach for his reading glasses and book.

In truth, by the time Clark made it back he'd almost certainly be asleep, no matter how fast Clark moved.