The Woes of Injury

As Clark enters the cave he hears this whirring sound. He draws closer to it and what he finds is Bruce propping his encased leg up on a table, holding some kind of saw. A saw normally used for cutting off casts. "What are you doing?"

"Getting this thing off," Bruce answers.

Clark rushes up to him. "No, don't!"

"Yes, do." Bruce starts to bring the saw towards his leg and Clark grabs it, shuts it off, and places it to the side.

Bruce huffs in annoyance. "Bruce, you said you would keep that cast on for at least four weeks. It's barely been two."

"Four weeks, Clark?" He looks exasperated. "That's a month, a month of not being Batman. That won't do." He goes to reach for the saw again but this time Clark grabs a hold of his wrist and pulls him away enough that he has to set his leg back onto the floor.

"Come one Bruce, you're not even going to be able to stand on it," Clark says.

Bruce crosses his arms and looks away in defiance. "I have my ways."

Shaking his head in amusement, Clark huffs a laugh. "Bruce." He cups the sides of Bruce's face and starts to kiss the pout away. "Just keep the cast on a little longer. Then after four weeks I can x-ray it myself and tell you whether or not the broken bone is healed enough to stand on." He pulls back and smiles at his boyfriend. "Then and only then, if you decide to risk braking it again by going out kicking evil doers' butts," Bruce rolls his eyes. "I will let you without complaint."

Bruce pushes away from him and starts to hobble back to his computer. "You'll still complain."

Clark smiles and holds back a chuckle. "Where are your crutches?" Bruce points over to where they are leaning against the cave wall, about twenty feet away from Bruce. Clark retrieves them and sets them closer to the grumbling man. "Bruce, come on, cheer up. It's really not that bad."

"Says the invulnerable alien who has never broken a bone," Bruce mumbles under his breath.

Clark sighs and leans down. He starts to pepper kisses along Bruce's cheek and jaw. "It could be worse. You could be bed ridden." Bruce tries to push Clark away by shoving at his face but Clark stands strong. "Although, if you were bed ridden it would give us plenty of time to do," He brings his mouth to Bruce's ear and whispers, "Other things."

Bruce turns his head to look at him. "If I was bed ridden then that would mean I would hurt badly enough to not be able to do those 'other' things."

Clark pulls away and gives him a mock smile. "Always have to ruin the mood." Clark then pulls Bruce up by the arm, ignores the protests, and carries him bridle style — because he knows Bruce hates that position — to Bruce's bedroom. He then promptly deposits Bruce onto his bed.

Clark crawls over him and Bruce groans in conflict. Clark knows just from that sound that the man underneath him is almost ready to surrender. Clark attacks his exposed neck with his mouth and tongue. "Clark, I have work to do."

"You can take a break," Clark says in between nips.

"That's what cutting this damn thing off was," Bruce says.

Clark laughs. "Some break." He then kisses his boyfriend's mouth and feels exactly when Bruce gives up.

Bruce relaxes his body and melts into the kiss, finally starting to participate. Bruce's arms go around Clark's shoulders and pull him closer, slipping his tongue into Clark's mouth. They kiss like this for a long time but soon Clark starts to remove Bruce's clothes. He starts with the button up shirt that Bruce is wearing, popping each button slowly and trailing kisses down the newly exposed skin. When all the buttons are free, Bruce shrugs the shirt off as Clark shucks his own shirt off. Bruce grabs for Clark's pant buckle before Clark can get to Bruce's and unbuckles it. When the zipper comes down, that's Clark's cue to do the same to Bruce. He grabs a hold of Bruce's slacks, plays a little with the hem by dipping his fingers underneath ever so slightly, and then unbuckling them and unzipping them. By now Bruce has abandoned his work on Clark's jeans and has removed Clark's glasses, placing them on the side table.

Clark then begins a slow decent of the slacks, pulling them down inch by inch in a way that he knows is agonizing for Bruce. When Clark gets past Bruce's hips and then his butt, he makes sure to nuzzle Bruce through his boxers and listens to Bruce's glorious moan. He then continues his decent, once again placing kisses to whatever skin he exposes by pulling Bruce's pants down. He frees one leg and journeys over to the other, treating that leg the same as the other.

At least until he hits a snag. The cast blocks the pants from going down any further and slipping off his leg. Clark looks up to Bruce, who has his eyes shut to enjoy the sensations, and pretends nothing is wrong. He continues to kiss his thigh as he tries to wrangle the pants off. How in the world did he get them on in the first place? Pulling them isn't working and trying to get them past the top of the cast by going around each side of the pant hole isn't working either. Clark is almost tempted to rip the darn things off.

He keeps trying to tug the pant leg down, finally abandoning his kissing, and putting his full concentration on removing the offending cloth. But he's been at it for too long and Bruce has finally started to notice. "What's wrong?"

"I can't," Clark gives another pull. "I can't get your pants off. How did you get them on?" Clark looks back to his boyfriend and his eyes grow wide at seeing the annoyed, angry, contemplative look that is set on Bruce's face. "Oh no, you don't!"

Clark tries to grab a hold of him by lunging at him but the man is a step ahead of him. He dodges Clark's attack, pushes himself off the bed, and stalks out of the room, yelling, "That's it, this thing is coming off!"

Clark leans back into the bed and sighs.

A/N: Hope you all liked it and thanks for reading. :)

P.S. Title might change but might not.