Work Text:
“Bruce Wayne embraces his feminine side!”
“Gotham playboy has affinity for wearing women’s lingerie” - inside source tells Gotham Gazette
The headline screams at him from beside his breakfast plate, he narrows his eyes at Alfred’s back, “You’re not funny!”
“The amount of panties I find after one of your galas beg to differ.”
Bruce can hear the amusement in Alfred’s voice, he scrunches up his nose, “I have nothing to do with those.” He mutters, those are left behind to either claim a one night stand with him or as an excuse to come back to the manor.
An alert from his phone tells him he has another hour before the monthly JL meeting, he sighs, Oliver and Hal are going to have a field day with this.
*
Almost four and a half hours later Bruce sinks down onto his couch, he lays back and closes his eyes. That had been exhausting.
Hal had spent two hours throwing every innuendo his way, granted some of them had been creative and somewhat funny, but Bruce just wanted him to let it go.
Oliver, on the other hand, had silently placed a box in front of Bruce. Despite the constant prodding for him to open it, he hadn’t, because he knows Ollie and it would have been embarrassing.
Now, he’s alone, nobody to laugh at him, so he picks up the box and shakes it. It doesn't make a sound, he carefully opens it and stares blankly at the contents for a second. He takes it out of the box and holds it up, he blinks and then blinks again, it’s a fucking lace trimmed pantie. Specifically, a black satin one with yellow bats printed on them. There’s a soft ping and he reaches for his phone, ‘Congrats on embracing your kink, publicly.’
Bruce scoffs at the text and then immediately eyes the package suspiciously. Then shakes his head, Ollie just has good timing, he puts the phone away and doesn’t reply.
There are footsteps approaching in the hall, Bruce stuffs the lingerie into his pocket and turns toward the door, “Alfred.”
“Master Bruce.” Alfred steps into the room and picks up the empty box, “Presents?”
“No, no, just Oliver’s idea of a joke.” Bruce tells him as he stands up. Alfred raises his brow and glances at Bruce’s pocket. Damn Alfred for being all knowing, he looks away, feeling heat creep up his neck, “Right, I uh, might lie down for a minute, I’m exhausted.”
“I’ll wake you up in time to get ready for your dinner with mister Hill.”
“Right, thank you.” He says, feeling like a sixteen year old again, as he slinks away, fast walking up to his room.
In his room, he plants himself face forward onto the bed. He lays there for a moment before he rolls over, he pulls the pantie out of his pocket and holds it up over his head. It’s made for a man, he can tell by the extra fabric at the front. For a minute he just stares at it, imagines himself wearing it. Softly caressing the smooth fabric, he wonders how it will feel against his cock. Said appendage stirs at the mere thought of wearing the sexy boxers. No, he shakes his head, nope, he’s not going there.
Ten minutes later he’s shivering at the sensation of satin sliding over his legs as he pulls on the panties. He walks over to the mirror and turns around a few times. Then he poses like fifties bombshell Marilyn Monroe and he feels sensual, provocative and hot.
After admiring himself for an indecent amount of time he goes to sit on the edge of the bed, scooting backwards until he can lean against the headboard.
He rubs himself through the fabric, shivering at the sensation, he slips his fingers inside the panties and wraps them around his cock. He jacks himself once, twice before sighing, it’s not enough. He shimmies out of the boxers and kicks them up, catching them midair.
He covers his hand in the fabric and reaches down again, wrapping his fingers around his cock. He adjusts his grip and rolls his hips up. He slowly starts to fuck his cock into his fist. He loves the smooth slide, he changes his pace, squeezing a little tighter, flicking his thumb over the head.
Not even five minutes later he’s arching his back as white hot heat explodes along his spine. He shivers as he comes down from one of the best orgasms he has had in quite a while.
The satin is covered in cum as Bruce opens his fist but he can't be bothered to care, he’ll wash it later. He lets out a satisfied sigh and closes his eyes, yeah he’ll definitely wash them later.
*
It’s funny how a stupid rumour has become a reality. Because over the past two months Bruce has been stealth ordering sexy lingerie from a website that caters specifically to men. Hiphuggers are definitely his favourite, with high waist lace trimmed panties a close second because he can wear those under anything.
There is a certain thrill in wearing his lingerie while out fighting crime.
*
Bruce wakes up slowly, he glances at the alarm clock and sighs, he only got to bed a mere five hours ago. He picks up his phone and scrolls through his to-do list, not much going on today.
After a moment of deliberation he slides his hand down his chest and wraps his fingers around his morning wood in a firm grip. He lazily jacks himself off for a few minutes before he rolls over and grabs the lube from his nightstand. The slick slide is infinitely better. He pulls up a leg and rubs a slippery finger against his hole, the angle is not ideal so he returns to his cock. He starts flicking his nail against the head with every downward stroke, slowly teases himself into a shuddering orgasm. Sighing he closes his eyes, allowing himself to bask in the afterglow of a great start of the morning.
He checks the clock again, twenty five minutes passed. So he still has a full day ahead, sighing he gets up, cold cases it is.
After a thorough shower he slips on a hot pink, high waisted, lace trimmed, satin pair of cheeky panties. With nowhere to go he figures he can indulge himself.
Alfred left him a breakfast plate, he picks it up on his way to the cave.
He’s examining a piece of evidence from one of his cold cases when a shrill alarm goes off, he switches screens and is greeted with a message from the tower. ‘Superman compromised - immediate back up requested at Metropolis bay’
Bruce flicks on the radio, listening to the reports while he types out a, ‘Batman on route’ back at Green Arrow, who is currently at the comms.
He hesitates for a second before pulling the bat-suit over his lingerie.
No one would know.
*
Batman seals the last lead lined container, handing it off to the Flash, who salutes him and zips away with it. Bruce turns around and stares at the spot where his cape is supposed to be. He dropped it to fish a kryptonite affected Clark out of the water. He scans the area and finally spots his cape in Superman’s hands, who is talking to the harbour police.
He waits for Clark to finish up before he approaches him, “Superman.”
Clark’s whole face lights up, “Batman! Thanks for the assist.”
“You need to think before you act.” He holds out his hand and Clark gives him his cape.
“I didn’t know Luthor was involved, it seemed like a robbery gone wrong.”
Bruce scoffs and pivots only to grunt in pain as his calf cramps up. Clark immediately steadies him and when Bruce looks up he can tell Clark is using his x-ray vision to check for injuries. Oh fuck, with no lead-lined cape, Clark is sure to see everything, “Superman.” He snaps and Clark breaks his scan, “Just a cramp.”
“Right, but you know why I had to check.” Clark grins at him, “It’s because you lie about injuries, all the time.” he continues as if Bruce asked for clarification.
Bruce rolls his eyes and walks away, he feels Clark’s gaze on him as he dons his cape and vanishes into the shadows.
When he’s halfway back to Gotham he finally lets himself breathe, he knows Clark, he wouldn’t have been able to hide a reaction, right? Somehow that’s both disappointing and a relief.
*
A week later he enters the watchtower for their annual budget meeting, when he sits down he meets Clark’s gaze. Oh. Maybe he shouldn’t have worn his lingerie today.
He honestly thought he’d gotten away with it, which is why he is wearing bright red, satin lace trimmed panties, but now Clark is giving him this look. A hungry look.
He shakes it off, Clark is as straight as an arrow. Which is a stupid analogy because Ollie is a lot of things but straight isn’t one of them. So looks away, because Clark probably doesn’t realise he’s looking at Bruce in any sort of way. It has to be wishful thinking, because he wants Clark to look at him like that, he wants Clark to mean it and then act on it. Ignoring it is for the best, as long as Clark is unattainable he won’t be tempted.
But ignoring Clark is not an easy feat, he manages, unfortunately not without a few raised brows from their teammates.
Luckily, the meeting is short and to the point, just how he likes it. It means after a mere hour and ten minutes he’s free of Clark’s gaze. He’s seconds away from escape when J’onn calls out to him.
“Batman, do you have a moment? Lantern gave me an update on the Glgrdsklechhh case.”
“Of course.”
Two hours later, J’onn, Clark, Hal and Bruce are on their way to prevent a hostile takeover.
Six hours later they are on their way back, suits covered in green mucus.
When they arrive back at the tower Bruce tries to make a beeline for the Zeta-Tube, but is stopped by Clark, “Where are you going? We have a protocol for contamination.”
“There is no contamination risk, we dealt with the Glgrdsklechhh before and I’m late for patrol.”
“It is still protocol, we have decontamination showers for a reason. Hell, you insisted on them, Spooky.” Hal adds.
“I have one of those back in the cave. As I said, I’m late.” Bruce dismisses Hal, who rolls his eyes and follows J’onn towards the locker room. He steps forward again, only to be halted by a broad slime covered chest, “Really?”
“I don’t know why you’re being so difficult over a protocol you insist upon for everyone else. It’s not like you have something to hide, right?” Clark asks him with a raised brow.
Oh God, the fucker knows. He feels himself flush. He clicks his jaw shut and narrows his eyes, “Fine.”
He stalks off towards his own rooms to grab his emergency bag. He stands there for a few minutes, trying to get his bearings. Eventually he sneaks back out but Clark is still lingering in front of the zeta room and he stomps off towards the locker room. When he enters, J’onn and Hal are already finishing up. So he parks himself on the bench nearest to the showers. Slowly taking off his cloak, folds it and then takes off his belt and shoes in the slowest way possible.
Hal and J’onn say goodbye and Bruce grunts one back. Finally alone, Bruce stands up, hurrying now, he needs to be out of his clothes and into the shower before Clark comes in. He has his gloves and top off in seconds, but the zipper of his legging keeps slipping away from him. Just as he gets it down there is a soft click of the door. He freezes and looks at the door, Clark is leaning against it with a bag slung over his shoulder.
They lock eyes as Clark steps towards him.
Bruce sucks in a breath, something panic-like claws its way up his throat. Clark knowing and Clark knowing are two different things.
Clark walks all the way over and drops his bag onto the bench next to Bruce. He pulls his cape off and drops his suit, picking them up and placing them into the decontamination box, “For someone so vocal about being in a hurry, you’re sure taking your sweet time.” Clark states, while cocking his eyebrow at Bruce, looking ridiculously at ease in just his boxers.
Bruce sighs. Fine, if Clark wants to play, Bruce will play. He slowly unzips his suit, keeping eye contact with Clark, and lets them pool around his legs. He sees Clark’s eyes drop to his crotch and hears a sharp intake of breath.
“Can you, uh…” Clark clears his throat and starts again. “Can you turn around for me?”
Bruce opens his eyes, unable to keep the grin off his face. He turns around slowly, showing Clark his satin and lace clad ass. A soft groan sounds behind him and his grin widens, because that is a familiar noise. It’s a I’m-so-turned-on-right-now sound and he can work with that. He bends over, picking his suit off the ground, knowing the silky material will stretch obscenely over his ass. Straightening, Bruce looks at Clark over his shoulder and lets his hand slide over his ass.
“You okay, Smallville? You look a bit overheated,” Bruce asks teasingly.
Without a word, Clark surges forward and Bruce barely has time to face him before Clark is on him. Clark kisses him hard, almost punishing. Bruce holds onto him, getting lost in the kiss. After a while, it turns slow and filthy, open mouthed and with way too much tongue. When Clark’s hands slide down his back to cup his ass cheeks, Bruce pulls back and lets his head drop against Clark’s chest.
“Fuck, Bruce. I’ve been trying to convince myself that you weren’t wearing lingerie, that it was a kryptonite induced hallucination. Because Rao knows I imagined you in every possible pair of panties. But actually seeing it.. Well, fuck,” Clark slips one his hands down, resting it just above his panties line, “I just.. Can I, please?”
Bruce briefly contemplates the consequences of having sex with his best friend, who might not be so straight after all. And maybe not as unattainable, which isn’t ideal, because now Bruce is tempted. A second later he smiles, in the end he wants what Clark can or will give, and if that is a one-off, then fuck it, he’ll take it.
“Yeah, you can have anything, everything,” Bruce tells him quietly.
Clark doesn’t need any further encouragement. He swoops down and kisses the breath out of him. He moans quietly when Clark moves his assault to his neck and then to his chest. Clark’s lips trace a scar down to his belly button, dipping his tongue inside before he follows his treasure trail further down. Clark nuzzles along the silky outline of Bruce’s straining cock. Bruce groans at the sight, his cock twitches and Clark grins up at him as he slowly tongues the wet spot on the lingerie.
Fuck, Bruce’s legs feel shaky and he leans heavily on Clark’s shoulders. Clark mouths at the head of his cock before he pulls back. He straightens and kisses Bruce again before reaching into his bag, fishing out a tube of lube.
Bruce raises a brow, “Why Clark, that is so boyscout of you.”
“I was never a boyscout, thank you.” Clark tells him with a grin. Sitting down on the bench, Clark pulls Bruce into his lap and rolls his hips up, they both groan. He slides his hand into the back of Bruce’s panties.
Bruce sucks in a breath the moment Clark’s finger rubs against his hole. He pulls Clark into a deep kiss. Keeping him in place with a hand at the nape of his neck. When the dry tip of Clark’s finger pushes in, he tightens his grip on Clark’s hair and groans into the kiss.
Clark pulls him higher up in his lap and Bruce can feel Clark’s erection pressing against his ass. He grinds down and Clark moans, breaking the kiss.
Clark pulls his fingers back and drops Bruce onto the bench. As Clark stands up, Bruce can see the wet spot at the front of the grey boxer shorts.
Without thinking about it Bruce leans forward, pressing his lips against it. Clark’s cock jerks under his lips and he hears a groan above him. Bruce smirks, he draws back and slowly pulls down the elastic, just enough so he can press a openmouted kiss to the leaking head of his cock. Then there’s a hand on the back of his head, lightly pressing him forward. Bruce goes with the motion, sliding his mouth around the head, hollowing out his cheeks. The hand in his hair tightens and Bruce pulls back, licking his lips as he looks up.
“Rao, Bruce.” Clark’s pupils are blown wide and his voice is rough with desire. He rips his boxers off and Bruce huffs out a laugh at the impatience. Then he has an unobstructed view of Clark’s cock and, fuck, it looks perfect. Thick and long, with a curve to the left.
He can’t wait to have it in him.
He stands up, shoving his thumbs into the waistband of his panties, wanting to pull them down but Clark’s hands stop the motion.
“Leave them.” Clark orders.
Bruce shivers, filling his reaction to that order away for another time, and nods.
Clark grabs the lube and steps in close. He kisses Bruce again before picking him up and walking into the last shower stall.
His cock jerks between them at the casual display of power and Bruce files that away too.
Clark drops the lube onto the soap tray before putting Bruce back on his feet. He steps in close, forcing Bruce up against the cool wall inside the stall.
Bruce hisses when his back hits the cold tiles. Clark murmurs an apology just before catching his mouth in a filthy kiss. Bruce slides his hand into Clark’s curls and tilts his head so he can deepen it.
Eventually he breaks away, Clark follows him but Bruce catches his face with his hand. His fingers splayed over Clark’s cheek, thumb resting on his chin. He purses his lips, looking at Clark, searching for a hint of hesitation or discomfort but all he can see is desire, want, need and hunger. He nods and swipes his thumb over Clark’s bottom lip, “Okay, we’re doing this.”
“Yes, we are,” He answers as he leans in and captures Bruce's lips in a soft kiss.
Bruce shivers and moans quietly when Clark’s hands slide down his side. Clark drags Bruce’s left leg up while he slips his other hand around his hip to cup his ass-cheek. His now slippery fingers resume their earlier exploration, for a second he wonders when Clark got the lube but then a slick finger presses against his hole. The thought slips away when it immediately pushes past the rim and straight to his prostate. Clark must have peeked, “That’s cheating.”
“Is not.” Clark tells him with a smirk as he brushes the spot again before he adds another finger. Before long, Clark is lazily scissoring two fingers into Bruce’s slick hole.
Bruce starts pushing back, trying to get Clark to move faster but he smirks at him and doesn’t comply. Bruce growls in frustration, Clark just kisses the sound out of him and Bruce bites down on his lip.
Clark draws back, chuckles and finally pulls his fingers free, “Alright, alright,” He grabs the lube and catches Bruce’s eye as he slicks up his cock, “Ready?”
“Get on with it, Farm-boy!” He growls out, impatiently.
Clark’s eyes darken, “As you wish.”
In the next moment he’s lifted up, forced to clamp his legs down just above Clark’s hips. Clark slips the lingerie down, just enough to get his cock in position. He hitches Bruce up and he can feel Clark’s cock slide over the rim of his hole. Shuddering he grips Clark’s shoulders. A second later, the head slips past the tight muscle. Clark is big, bigger than two fingers and the sudden stretch and burn is almost too much. Bruce lets his head fall back against the tiled wall, moaning out loud. Clark’s grip on his waist tightens for a second before he lets gravity do its work. When Bruce finally bottoms out, they’re both panting.
Everything is still for a moment.
“Fuck, Smallville, move.”
“B,” Clark grounds out, his voice strained. “Give me a second.”
For once, Bruce is the impatient one, he clenches down. Clark curses and grabs Bruce’s thighs, pulls back and drives forward, hard. They both groan at the feeling. After a few long moments of trying to work out a rhythm Bruce has had enough.
He drags Clark into a hard kiss before urging him to pull out. He drops to the ground and takes a moment to get his bearing before he turns around and faces the wall. He looks back over his shoulder but Clark’s focus is on his ass. Bruce clears his throat.
“Rao, Bruce. If you could see yourself.” Clark grabs his cock and gives it a few strokes before plastering himself against Bruce’s back. He lets his hand slide over Bruce’s thighs with possessive admiration. He pulls Bruce’s hips away from the wall, kicking his legs apart, there is a light tearing noise but they both ignore it. Clark positions his cock and slowly pushes back into Bruce’s tight, slick hole.
He draws back and drives back in. The force shoves Bruce against the wall, with not much room to move, all he can do is brace himself as Clark sets a brutal pace.
Clark shifts behind him and suddenly Bruce has sparks running up his spine. His stomach muscles ripple and his hole tightens. Every time Clark pulls out, Bruce clenches down. Their movements are getting frantic. Another shift, the sparks explode into a white hot heat and then he’s coming, completely untouched.
Clark grips Bruce hips, his thrusts become erratic. A moment later Clark groans, pushing in deep and stills. Bruce can feel Clark’s cock pulsing inside of him and his own cock twitches valiantly.
Clark lets his head fall between Bruce's shoulder blades. Both are panting, trying to get their breath back. After a few minutes Clark slowly pulls back. Bruce hisses at the feeling, with every inch he can feel hot cum sliding down his balls. Clark turns Bruce around, leans in and catches his mouth in a lazy kiss.
Bruce allows it for a moment before he pulls back, he turns on the shower, “We need to hurry or someone will come knocking.” He tells a dazed looking Clark.
“Right.” Clark answers and takes a step back, “As much as I love the sight of you in bright red, I don't think I’m willing to share this image with anyone else.”
Bruce's post orgasmic fog is suddenly lifted, “Clark, please tell me you locked the door.”
Clark’s eyes widen, then he abruptly zips away and Bruce just stands there under the hot shower blinking hard, staring at the spot Clark just vacated.
A few seconds later Clark is back, tipping Bruce’s head to give him another kiss, “The door is locked.” Clark answers him calmly. He squirts shower gel onto his hands and starts rubbing it down Bruce’s shoulders.
That snaps Bruce out of his stunned poise, “Did you just ..”
Clark kisses him again, “Mmmm I think kissing you is going to be my favourite thing from now on.”
“You’re an ass.” He pushes against the broad chest and slips the torn panties down and off.
He picks up the shower gel and starts cleaning up. After a moment Clark does the same.
“I’d like to explore this lingerie wearing side of you.” Clark pulls Bruce under the warm spray and they both rinse off. He turns off the shower and picks up the discarded, torn panties, wringing the water out of it, “This one is ruined.” He grins and Bruce rolls his eyes.
“Also we should talk about how we are going to tell the kids that we are dating.” Clark throws out casually.
Bruce narrows his eyes, “Since when is dating on the table?”
“B,” Clark says with an exaggerated sigh “We’ve been dating for over ten years? My wife knew it, your girlfriend knew it. Hell Bruce, the whole Justice League thinks we’re already married. They have bets about it. So yeah, dating.” Clark gives Bruce a towel and ties one around his own waist. He walks out of the shower area into the locker room with the red panties in his hand.
“Fine, but I expect to be wined and dined and you owe me a new pair of panties.” He tells Clark as he follows him out.
*
A week later Bruce walks into his bedroom after a late night patrol. There’s a package on his bed, he immediately scans the room but there is no one there.
He approaches carefully and opens the card attached to the package, ‘Maybe wear it tomorrow? CK’
Inside the package is a blue, lace trimmed, satin pair of panties with tiny red and yellow Superman logos printed on them.
Fin