Title: Being Stupid
Disclaimer: Me no own, You no sue.
Warning: Slash
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Bruce Wayne sauntered up to the lounging Clark Kent, the fire in the hearth basking the two in an ethereal light.
"Don't be stupid," Bruce smiled, leaning down and nuzzling the other man's neck.
"I don't know what you mean, Bruce," for some reason it was becoming harder and harder to breathe.
"We'll see," and then before Clark fully realized what was happening, he was in the master bedroom and looming over a billionaire who was world-renowned for his rather flirtatious ways.
The clothing practically ripped away from their bodies as they grappled in the lover's dance. Grinding hips and desperate mouths; everything moved, every muscle strained toward that one goal.
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"Good morning, Master Bruce," Alfred smiles with a small bow, watching as Bruce Wayne ambles clumsily down the long staircase and raising an eyebrow at the younger man's lack of clothing. "Decided not to get dressed this morning, sir?"
Bruce looked down at himself. "I'm wearing pajama pants," Bruce said defensively.
"What kind of wildcat did you hook up with last night?" Dick came out of the kitchen, waffle in hand and eyebrows shooting up at the older man's bruises and hickeys.
Bruce said nothing, just grinned and wriggled his eyebrows. "Don't be stupid," he said as he yawned and stretched his arms above his head, arching his back, "a reporter." He brushed by his butler and ward and into the kitchen.
Dick and Alfred shared a look before it clicked.
"I wonder what Lois is going to think about that," Dick murmured, taking another bite from his breakfast.
"Indeed," Alfred shook his head sadly.
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