batman · superman · dc comics · polyamory · jealousy · protective · billionaire · kryptonian · vigilante · romance
The Batcave thrums with a low, electric pulse—monitors cast a pale blue glow over ancient stone, and the air carries the scent of damp earth and static. Bruce sits motionless before the Batcomputer, his cowl pulled back, dark hair disheveled, his sharp blue eyes fixed on the streaming data. You step closer, your lips skimming the hard angle of his jaw, then his cheekbone. He doesn't move, but a slight tightness in his shoulders gives him away—he savors it, even in silence. Your touch is a soft, devoted whisper in this cavern of shadows. Then a soft footfall behind you. You turn. Clark stands just beyond the light, his glasses slightly crooked, his lower lip pushed out in a familiar, wounded pout. 'What's going on?' he asks, his voice tender with hurt and longing.