Buss Killer
These aren’t kisses. He might simply eat the other alive, and funny thing is, he feels he is allowed to do so. The same way, hugging him feels like holding on his dear life.
Clark cannot think straight in this dream, or in these dreams. Some part of him knows this is a dream but it for sure doesn’t feel like one. It’s too real to be surreal. The hot and sweaty skin he is touching, the wanton and broken moans he is hearing, the gorgeous and filthy face he is staring… the glassy pale blue eyes or the wet tightness wrap around his member and milk him dry, Clark is not sure which one actually drives him insane. Could be both.
Why this kept happening is beyond Clark, but oh Rao he could deny it feels good. Tonight’s lewd wild imagination might just be the final straw to break Clark’s sanity. Everything he is dreaming upon this point feels so real like he has already lived through it.
Not once, but a million times.
There is confidence and familiarity in repetition.
Probably the trip to Gotham provokes this dream. Bruce Wayne is and will forever be the favorite son of this doomed and dark city, though more people may argue Batman should be the night and dark side of it. You cannot walk into Gotham without recognizing Wayne’s name even once the entire time. It’s engraved into the core.
As if it’s the cue, any thought traced back to the Bats sends chills running down his spine and unfortunately wakes Clark up. Too fast, he is forgetting all the vivid details of another man he has seen more on television and internet than in real life. Wayne in his dream only left a faint impression of desperation and self-sacrifice before completely gone. Clark doesn’t want to be the bad wolf manifesting on a helpless lamb, but he cannot undo what he’s already done.
The strength he was using undoubtedly left nasty black and purple bruises lingering all over his partner. It’s a wonder in these dreams Wayne never seems to be bothered by pain.
Like if any of this is real. Clark reminds himself.
There is no one he could apologize to if all he experienced was just dreams. Though they’re very inappropriate ones. No real harm done. Just super awkward celebrity crash, Clark broods, even he knows truly nothing about this man.
Wayne does have a good face. His traitorous mind whispers. And a pair of pale blue eyes you couldn’t dare to look at.
Nonetheless, Clark tries his best to clean all the physical trace of evidence his horny dreams left and forgets every bit of it, like taking a good ten-minute frozen cold shower to clear his head, but only got backfired when he walks into the Daily Planet at eight o’clock with his morning coffee.
The sudden mentioned name punches Clark in the guts, hard. He chocks on his coffee. The bittersweet dark liquid does not necessarily hurt him but does leave a very unpleasant feel in his mouth and airpipe, which leads Clark unintentionally holding his breath to ease his discomfort.
Very bad choice. He must look more suspicious and anxious than he already feels.
“A penny for your thought?” And here goes Cat who has some kind of superpower about digging up gossip materials and never misses a hint. Safe to say Daily Planet only hires best of the best. No matter what kind of the best here goes.
“You hear the lady, Smallville.” Lois is next to Cat, leaning at one nearby desk, chuckling at Clack’s clumsiness. When Clark grabs his drink, reluctantly turns around and tacitly shoots his rescue signal to her, Lois simply ignores but mischievously adds her two cents: “You know him right?”
“Yeah, remember the commercial you watched thousands of times? The weird one kept shifting from color and black and white. “Jimmy chimes in. “He is in it. Like, he is the only one in it. Couldn’t miss that.”
As a photographer, Jimmy has a taste which currently is not totally align with Gotham producers. That’s a touch of crazy and unearthly generally never align the bright and optimistic vibe of Metropolis very well. But what can Clark say, people are drown to mysterious and absurd things. The cologne sells, even the price makes Clark stood in front of the shiny showcase of a high-end perfume store and winced.
There is a big, nice check sent to some kind child protection fundraiser just a while ago after the commercial was released to the market. This is also the reason Wayne agreed for acting, for some reason the director really, really wanted him. Whatever he earns directly goes to that check.
Shame they don’t advertise this fact as much as the product.
“Yeah, yeah, I saw the clip and recognize the face.” Clark surrenders, “it’s hard to not know him. He is practically everywhere.” Even the subway Clark took for work is built with donation from the Wayne.
The man truly is everywhere.
“He was practically everywhere.” Cat corrects. She savors Clark’s confusion before continuing. “Brucie has been unnaturally quiet these days.” She talks about him like good old friends if Clark doesn’t know better.
“How long ago Brucie broke something big and landed himself on the cover of tabloid? What’s the last time you saw him show up in a gala fashionable late and with two flings in his arm? Where are the pretty girls and boys he used to date right now? Where is our favorite Gotham Prince in the past couple of months? Where did he go? What is Brucie Wayne doing except getting lost?”
“Bruce Wayne’s gone missing?”
Over a decade, this man is plastering all over the press and social media. In some way he is embedded in normal people’s lives so much his name becomes a constant. The sudden unbalance due to a small missing piece strikes feral anger in an unfamiliar way deep down of Clark.
Likely sensing Clark sudden changing in mood, Lois speaks up, “What Cat saying is there is not many sightings of Wayne and the gossip section’s started losing business.” She is giving him a curious look and Clark can only return a sheepish smile.
“It couldn’t be that bad,” Clark murmurs.
He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him for a second and why mentioning Wayne’s name pushes his buttons in such wrong way.
Totally oblivious Cat questions: “What’s the last time dear Brucie been so quiet for extended period of time?”
“Broke his leg and too many ribs and almost got himself killed in a horrible skiing accident? It’s ‘bout couple years ago.”
“But that accident didn’t stop him attending galas Jimmy. Nothing truly stops him having fun. I’m wondering what kind of fun you could’ve by playing died.”
“Then the incident his adopted son died oversea or something.”
Jimmy speaks before he double thinks, and he winces at what comes out of his mouth. There is a fleet moment of silence falling down on this small gossip circle.
“Wayne did not show up in Wayne Enterprise Christmas and New year gala last year,” Lois thoughtfully adds,” I couldn’t think of last time he misses something this big.”
“Like never,” Cat agrees, “he may very well not attend the Easter one, I’m afraid, if we don’t find him now.”
It’s questionable whether Cat really likes Wayne, but his presence seems to make her job easier since anything Wayne does sells, may it be another scandal or Wayne Enterprise’s newest product info release he reads from cards. However, if Clark remembers correctly Wayne probably only showed up in half of the galas he’s supposed to attend and the ones he did show up, he is fashionable late, both makes it hard to drive anything useful from Wayne even you’re lucky to catch him before he gets too drunk.
There’re ups and downs in the consistency of Wayne’s public appearance, like the incident of Wayne’s second son, although the entire story is somehow vague about what’s the boy really did where he went, and if he truly ended up dead and what role Wayne’s playing. Too many mysteries to even keep the narrative straight for Clark’s like. The only thing for sure is the boy is gone.
Thinking about it leaves a bad taste in Clark and from what he heard through the years this might be another skeleton in Wayne’s closets. Superman or not, it’s simply impossible to discover all the rich people’s dirty secrets.
But Wayne always managed to attend his “important” galas, no matter if it’s bad weather, criminals running lose in downtown or supervillains come in, busted the parties, abducted him and demand for money. So, on second thought it seems odd for Wayne starts gone missing now.
Whatever.
“Is it that long?”
Christmas was two months ago and now is the beginning of March. The commercial plagued Clark’s dreams came out early February. Then there are short video clips took during the filming of the commercial and had Wayne talking about his acting and other irreverent gossip materials randomly released to the internet over the next couple months.
To Clark, Wayne seems always being around.
He somehow has this ghost feeling of always connecting to him. Wayne is always around.
At least, in dreams.
“Yep.” Cat announces. “I believe it’s perfect time for our world best investigators gathered a team to unearth and exploit what secret Brucie Wayne is hiding from the world. It’s the next Pulitzer Prize material. I declare a hunting competition!”
“Whoa, it’s so exciting.” Lois teases and finishes her morning coffee and throws the paper cup in the trash can hidden under the nearby desk. She straights her posture and says: “Unfortunately I got some bigger fish to fry but good luck on your prince hunting Cat.”
She turns, “And you, big boy, are going to help me catch them.” Lois smiles, fierce and determined, beautiful forever.
“What a shame.” Cat lets out an exaggerated sign and grabs a yelping Jimmy by collar before makes her exit. “You won’t know what’s you missing Lois!”
“Oh sure I won’t.” Lois purrs.
After Lois and Clark get back to their desks, which is quite a walk considering Clark bumped into their unconventional group gossip in the break room at far end of the hall, and where other people either busy with their own work or don’t care about their small talks, Lois causally asks. “Someone occupies your mind?”
A statement rather than a true question. Leaving no room for hiding and impossible to deflect.
“I am good, and you?” Clark tries anyway.
Lois is not swayed. “I’m used to think that’s your prickly friend from reading club starts killing you these days, but I could be wrong, couldn’t I?”
“I won’t say you are wrong.” Clark sheepishly replies.
Batman has remained as a main cause of Clark’s brooding moods for past few months because they didn’t part on good terms before Batman completely dropped off the grid and Clark still deals its consequence till today. He is going to deal with the missing Bats tonight and few foreseeable nights, in which just to think about what’s he is going to face for the incoming League meeting is slowly killing him inside. What Clark really needs right now is flying to Gotham and finding Batman and demanding answers even if it means tear the entire city apart or turn it completely upside down to achieve his goals.
But that’s mad man talking.
The old lead painting and other horrendous old architectures are shielding their vigilante under their wings. There is a reason Superman doesn’t show up in Gotham sky so frequently despite the fact that Gotham has its own kind protector.
And what’s worse than pulling Batman out of Gotham and talking to him (if by any luck they don’t land with yelling contest or something even worse)? It’s NOT finding him there.
The possibility of finding him and never finding him are both so dreadful is hurtful to think about.
Something the hero community kept thinking all the time but never felt enough is about retirement. When should they stop? How can they stop? Where are they going to stop? All these questions just are to answer, if not thinking about it. This line of work could be bright as is dangerous and dark. Countless times not only toying with the possibility but facing the horrible facts that his teammates were actually dying, Clark is still not immune to the angst these questions bring.
He knew people could die and he saw people died.
Sometimes he does wish his heart is bullet proofing too. Maybe too much to ask.
But thinking Batman is dead feels like a bizarre reality. This man is made of sheer will power and determination and fueled by spite and vengeance, as Lantern would like to ramble, he is unstoppable. Like a hurricane. There is nothing that could stand between him and justice.
If it means to cheat the death to achieve his goal, Batman for sure will find his way.
Then comes the secretive and seclusive. Clark never knew how many tricks he had hidden in his sleeves and no matter what desperate situations the League and the world got themselves in, Batman has a plan.
Yes, he always has a plan to save the day.
Clark thinks that’s really some points tore people apart and make them mad when it comes to Batman’s plans are the undeniable causes for an almost destruction of the League and endanger the world.
So many levels of betrayal, in another words.
People don’t deal with betrayal kind. It’s something that shake their core and shatter their worlds.
But Batman is only a man. A man could die, and would die, given time. Nothing lasts forever, even a Kryptonian under yellow sun has their limits. This contrary is something Clark constantly struggle to balance and without any certainly if Batman is alive or not is slowly killing him. He couldn’t image B has died. Like how? A sunken island is not something they have not seen in the past and hardly ranked top 10 most deathly situations they ever been in.
“You’re worried about him.”
Lois whispers, the hand she is wrapping Clark’s arm radiating warmth and safety. The faint omega scent she pushes out converting sincere kindness, love and care smooths Clark’s nerve.
“It’s okay to worry about another man even if he hurt you. You are allowed to do so, and you are such a good man. But sometimes you need to let him go to do you own good.”
“Lo.” Clack signs. The last thing he needs now is his best friend acting as his personal therapist.
“I’m not saying he didn’t deserve this.” Lois pauses for a second, mischievously adding. “Not yet.”
“Things are complicated.” Clark murmurs while pinching the bridge of his nose.
Lois knew he was attacked and injured in the last crisis since she was the one to help to cover Clark’s track when he was missing in action and took care of him after the crisis ended. There are not enough thanks Clark could pay her for going this far helping him.
Sometimes Clark wishes he could hold her, kiss her, build a life and family around her like old stories of alpha and omega do. Very selfish thoughts, but.
There was no lack of trying. Just failed. Some itches cannot be scrab the right way, so they kept things open back then till they faded into background.
They are family. Just some small piece missing in their relationship to make the entire thing really work out doesn’t mean they will forego everything they built till today. They’re still family in the end.
“Do tell.” Lois laughs. “What’s the matter with Bruce Wayne then?”
“Wha-what?”
“I just heard some interesting facts about you keep going over some Brucie Wayne’s clips like five minutes ago.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Last time I checked, Mr. Wayne is still ranked as most eligible bachelor among the country, so if somebody wants to try his luck, he could always help himself.”
Tip of his ears is burning, Clark gasps, “I’m not in his league.”
“I would say it’s actually another way around.”
“I have a kid.”
“He has more.”
“Doesn’t he own this place?” Clark dramatically gestures everything around him and exclaims. “He is our Boss.”
“Yeah, like he would remember he bought Daily Planet in last decade. I wonder if he remembers what he got last week.” Lois chucks. “It’s not like you are asking Perry out.”
“Don’t say it. You are giving me most horrify nightmare in my lifetime.” Clark grimaces.
“Come on, big boy. You are free of parenting duty for this week and may also be the next if I feel generous. And you know what, I am feeling very good now.”
You should take this opportunity to see someone. Her undertone says.
Nothing could stop Lois setting him up. She probably waits forever for this moment. Lois is seizing Clark up and bold enough to not hide her wandering gaze. “I would say you may not be in his typical type, but what’s the fun to be a rich guy if not to try out all the best things the world could offer.”
“I thought I just heard he is kind of out of town.” Clark counters drily.
Right now, a real headache starts to build behind his eyes. Being Man of Steel but not immune with jokes your best friend throws at you, what a crude world. “Come on Lo, I never really speak with that man before. Don’t even know him at all.”
“Better stay that way, Smallville. He’s just your average mindless billionaire with a pretty face.” Sounds like speaking with experience, then Clark starts to recall she has met Wayne a few times for interviews. “Well, a very attractive face.” Lois contemplates.
Clark grudgingly finds himself agrees.