Restoration: Kal

by 'rith

Well. *blinks* I'd been meaning to do this one eventually, and it ambushed me out of nowhere. Is it "creative" or "cheesy" to rewrite your own fic from another point of view? It's an interesting exercise, anyway.

Archive: Ask first, please.
Fandom: Modern comicverse. Batman/Superman. (Sorry, Lois. Call this one-universe-over, and she's in the waiting room.)
Warnings/Summary: M/M sex, yep. Kal-El gets something he needs. Mirror-POV fic to "Restoration." Read that one first:
Disclaimer: All characters property of DC Comics. What I have done with them is mine.
Original fic based on a discussion and imagery by Carmen Williams. This version's for J.C., who encouraged it.

He'd been feeling it for weeks, the subtle change in himself building slowly and inevitably. Something he'd always been, always needed, finally reaching the surface and breaching his controls. Controls that never really had been necessary after all, as it turned out. He'd feared the alien in himself almost reflexively, buried it beneath the Kansas farmboy and the hero.

But Kal-El was no less *him* than Clark Kent and Superman, and it was long past time to give that part of himself voice.

The distinctions were really much less than he might have supposed. He wasn't Bruce, after all, to so firmly divide himself that Batman and Bruce Wayne almost might be two different people altogether. Clark and Superman had their separate roles, it was true, but they weren't as far apart as all that. He was still Clark when he wore the blue-and-red suit. He was still Superman when he propped his feet up on the coffee table at night to make notes about his current story for the Daily Planet. Now he was long-denied Kal-El as well. The part who, freed of Clark's and Superman's inhibitions, might go after what he needed without any hesitation whatsoever.

Kal-El had a darker sense of humor, too. It was a dangerous game, teasing the Batman, and doing it so subtly the other man had to wonder if there was really something going on at all. Though of course he'd realize soon enough, even if he didn't believe it. One could read anything into a smile, or a touch on the shoulder. But no one touched the Batman without reason, and so....

J'onn noticed too, attuned nearly empathically to those around him. He'd felt the change as Kal-El emerged, sent a careful questing telepathic probe that Kal acceded to without question or resentment, and withdrew, satisfied. Surprised, perhaps, but nothing shocked J'onn and his innate unhuman understanding of humanity.

Even those humans who weren't, quite.

Anyone else he might have confronted and been done with it. But Bruce was a special case. There was a certain irony in the idea that it would require the efforts of two of the Earth's most powerful metahumans to ensnare the Batman...a tribute to the man's competence. And paranoia. Kal wasn't really surprised when J'onn told him Batman had already been wondering about Kal's change of demeanor. "He decided he was imagining things, and did not ask," J'onn said, sounding amused. "I should not have known what to say, if he had."

"The truth," Kal said quietly. "But it's time, J'onn. If you can, keep him here after the next meeting. And make sure...we're not disturbed."

J'onn's eyes, so deep, looked into him. "Are you certain of this? If you begin...."

"It won't end. I know. It's taken me a long time...but I'm sure, now. This is what we need."

The Manhunter regarded him silently for a moment and then nodded, a simple motion of assent. Approval, too? Maybe. But Kal-El, once decided on this course, didn't require it.

He'd done a good job, he thought, of keeping the tension thrumming through him from leaching into his voice during the JLA meeting. Now he waited while J'onn distracted Batman with necessary modifications to the monitor systems, which would conveniently disable the internal sensors. It needed to be done in any case; he was merely taking advantage of the situation.

He heard Batman moving down the hall back toward the meeting room--only because he was listening for it, since the man was more than capable of evading even Kal's senses if he wasn't paying attention--and detached his cape, throwing it aside onto one of the chairs. He moved to stand near the clear window-panels, staring out at the Earth below. Posing? Oh, yes. And also taking time for a last deep breath, preparing for what came next, knowing the next few minutes would change everything. Wanting what would come next without any reservation whatsoever.

He couldn't help smiling when he turned to see Batman entering the room. Couldn't help calling him by name, like a summoning. "Bruce."

Kal could almost smell the other man's uncertainty. That in itself was a rare enough condition, and he knew he hadn't been imagining it when Batman replied, evenly but with hesitation underneath, "Clark."

Because who else would he be, really? Superman and Clark had sufficed until now. It was Kal's darker humor that made him draw it out, telling Batman to guess again. Watching the *understanding* bloom on the other man's face, followed by disbelief and the faintest shadow of fear. But despite that his innate trust in Superman kept Batman there, unmoving, as Kal-El began to walk toward him. Kal could almost see the battle taking place under his skin, Batman's intrinsic paranoia at war with that faith.

If he'd had any doubt about this, it would have vanished with the proof of that trust. But there was no reason to push his luck.

"Kal," the other man said softly, almost desperately, and then Batman's mouth was under his.

He'd known, instinctively, this was the way it had to be. Forcing the issue in the most direct way possible, no room for equivocation, no chance for Batman to refuse. He hadn't been afraid Bruce wouldn't want this; he'd only feared he wouldn't allow it. But the body under his hands wasn't pushing him away. Kal took that for tacit permission and leaned in closer. And then, miraculously, he was being kissed in return. Desperately, frantically, gloved hands clawing at his back and tongue reaching to touch his own.

Kal broke off, barely remembering the limitations of human lungs. Though the way Batman had held onto him, he might have passed out before letting go. Stubborn, just like in all things.

Batman--no, Bruce--was *blushing.* Unbelievable.

He *felt* it happen, the fall of the indefinable mask separating Batman from Bruce. Bruce said his name again, and Kal smiled and swept away the physical disguise as well. "Bruce. Nice to see you. Finally."

He pulled Bruce in close again, feeling the man's willing surrender under his hands. Kal never, ever thought it would be this...easy. It'd had always been a battle with them, the superhuman and the iconic "merely" human, the light and the dark. But for all his ironclad discipline Bruce was moaning, rubbing against him like he was starved for the contact.

Such an enormous contrast from the man's usual reserve, Kal couldn't help chuckling a little even though his own control was beginning to slip. He needed restraint here, one of them needed to maintain it. But the sight and sound of Bruce relinquishing his discipline, abandoning his masks, had a far stronger effect on him than any anticipatory fantasy.

Focus. He could focus on Bruce. Kal let his hand drift down, stroking at Bruce's erection, still restrained in the costume. He wanted to tear the suit away, knew Bruce would prefer he didn't, and settled for stripping tights and groin protection and boots away with one hand while positioning Bruce against the table with the other. Bruce groaned into his mouth, and Kal wondered if he liked the idea of being helpless under someone else's strength. Not that Batman would ever admit to such a thing, but Bruce...maybe that's what Bruce had needed, all along.

Without giving Bruce the chance to react Kal bent and ran his tongue down Bruce's length, tasting him, and then swallowed him completely. Bruce cried out, completely oblivious to his surroundings now, as Kal had expected. Aside from the obvious stimulation, Kal-El's solar-powered Kryptonian physiology kept his body temperature slightly warmer than human. He generated enough unexpected, stimulating heat to weaken even the most stubborn lover's resistance. It was a side effect he had been willing to use mercilessly, if necessary, to bring Bruce to this point. Obviously Bruce had needed it too badly to offer the expected defiance. But they both needed more. Kal straightened, hand replacing his mouth, and whispered in Bruce's ear. "Let go. Now."

And Bruce did, spilling into his hand on command, shaking with the physical and emotional release.

Kal-El lifted him from the table, kissing him again. Bruce made a tiny noise when Kal's slick fingers entered him, wordless submission echoed in the way his fingers tightened on Kal's shoulders. That was all the acquiescence Kal needed, given his own impatience. He turned Bruce, bending him over the table, the position mirroring the image from his daydreams. 'Batman, on table, in the Watchtower' -- except that the man under him said his name again, voice filled with need, and he remembered who they both were. Not Superman and Batman, at all.

Kal leaned over, whispering the name like a mantra. "Bruce." He slid forward as gently as he could, knowing that Bruce would never admit to discomfort, if there were any. Kal felt Bruce clench under him, open to him, letting him in. Bruce, not the Batman. An infinitesimal and infinite difference.

He stroked a hand down Bruce's back in rhythm with his thrusts. Bruce rocked under the motion, his breathing matching Kal's, moving under Kal's pace. Absolute surrender in his every motion.

Kal felt the shock of that revelation run through Bruce's body. So many years of control, discarded so 'easily'...he wondered if Bruce found that enormously frightening, or exciting, or both.

"Pay attention, Bruce," Kal murmured in his ear to focus his attention, and turned Bruce so they were face-to-face again. Bruce hooked his legs around Kal's waist and this time *he* initiated a kiss. An implicit promise that this was more than simply physical, that Bruce understood and welcomed just how deeply Kal-El was a part of him now.

And then there wasn't any thinking at all, just the movement of their bodies together, and the sounds they made, and finally the way they shuddered against each other and held on even after the wave had crashed over them, and subsided.

Kal was content to sit on the floor where they'd ended up, Bruce curled catlike in his lap. Bruce, apparently, needed to talk. "Kal-El. Kal. Why-- How did you--"

He was more pleased than he could say by the use of his Kryptonian name, Bruce's innate understanding of the play between alter egos. The same way he understood what Bruce was asking. "I've spent enough time around you, did you think I wasn't paying attention?"

" you set me up, is that it?" Underneath Bruce's exhausted acceptance, Kal-El could hear the faint outrage of the Batman. But the Bat was very far away now.

"Are you complaining?" Kal teased, and then said more seriously: "You needed this. We needed this."

"Yes," Bruce said, and laid his head on Kal's chest, and rested.


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