Vogue le magazine by metropolisjournal needs a sequel so bad
Like so so bad
I need the sequel to be in Clark's POV about what he had noticed of Bruce's behaviour during the whole of the fic or even missing scenes
Vogue le magazine was Bruce in a self destructive mode (as usual) and grappling with his attraction to Clark, the man who gave Bruce his faith in humanity back
Bruce thinks Clark would never do the most depraved thing he wanted done to him JUST YOU WAIT BUDDY
Bruce having self deprecating thoughts about the scars on his body, what must the people in Gotham think huh? The rags all say Bruce Wayne doesn't know his age anymore, still acting as outrageous as ever, half naked or fully naked with a coat barely covering all the scars on his body, Batman's identity known to the world just like that if Bruce gave a fuck anymore
Clark on the other side of this spectacle, he wants to worship Bruce's body if only he would let him.
The things that could have killed Bruce just made him more determined to not surrender in the face of all the bad things in the world. Clark wants Bruce to know that he's so so good, he's not irredeemable, even if he's made mistakes
He would hold Bruce down and give him all he ever wanted, if he would just ask
Cue Bruce finally gets his shit together to apologise to Clark for the way he's been behaving, just because he has feelings for Clark doesn't mean anything. Doesn't mean he can't keep it under wraps and keep everything else professional.
Clark comes to the lakehouse to put his plans into action.
Bruce doesn't even get to say anything before Clark says in a stern commanding voice telling him to stay still and close his eyes, only moving when he is moved.
Clark blindfolds Bruce, lists out the rules of their game, cataloguing the reaction Bruce has to what's happening: the clenched jaw, the barely there hitch of a breath that most people wouldn't hear, the fine tremors running through his body.
Bruce doesn't know what's happening. Is he dreaming? Hallucinating? He can feel the gentle hands unbuttoning his dress shirt, one button at a time, unhurried, seemingly enjoying the act of unwrapping him. He can feel the overly warm hands caressing his body reverently, he doesn't deserve that type of attention, memorizing all the scars on his body as if it's important to know where each mark is
It's torture for Bruce to imagine all the ways Clark is touching him, how would Clark look as he's memorizing and caressing his body? Would he look at Bruce with that heat in his eyes that Bruce occasionally catches and chalked it up to wishful thinking?
And Clark is here, trembling with overwhelming feelings, being able to finally see all of Bruce without needing to use his x-ray vision. Being able to appreciate Bruce's body, a weapon honed to its peak physical condition. He's seen Bruce's naked body before, half changing out of the body armor, when he's injured in the field and needs emergency first aid.
But never like this, not getting ready for a mission, not bleeding out on the battlefield. Just being able to finally hold Bruce Wayne like the fragile thing that he is, but the face he puts out to the world is cool, aloof, unwavering, unstoppable unless he wanted to be stopped, so determined and stubborn for the thankless job of protecting his city.
Clark kisses the scars on Bruce's body, the obvious ones, the shallow ones, the faded ones, the ones that can't be seen by the naked eye. The first kiss made Bruce gasp out loud involuntarily, and then the clench of his teeth as he tries so hard to be unaffected.
Bruce is doing so well for Clark, not moving unless moved. Clark knows Bruce wants to push him away sometimes, but instead clenches his fists and lets Clark lead.
And then Clark fucks Bruce silly, edging him a few times until Bruce is a limp noodle and can only let Clark manhandle him, take care of him. Clark breaking Bruce into pieces and then molding him into something gentler.
Sorry, lost my steam after finishing the worshipping part. But that's the gist of it. Thanks for reading.
