dceu_kinkmeme | DCEU Prompt Post #1

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DCEU Prompt Post #1

Welcome to Round One of the DCEU Kink Meme!

Please have a look at the extended rules here.

The important rules in short:

Post anonymously.
Negative comments on other people's prompts (kink-shaming, pairing-bashing etc.) and personal attacks of any kind will not be tolerated.
One prompt per comment. Warnings for common triggers and squicks are encouraged, but not required.
Prompts should follow the format: Character/character, prompt.
Keep prompts to a reasonable length; prompts should not be detailed story outlines.
No prompt spamming.

Please direct any questions to the Ask a mod post. For inspiration: list of kinks .

Prompt, write, draw, comment, and most importantly have fun! Please link to your fills on the fill post.

Here's the discussion post for all your non-prompt/fill needs.

We now have a non-DCEU prompt post for any prompts in other 'verses (comics, animated series, other movies or TV shows etc.).

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"So. Gotham National put in a security maint request with WayneTech today," Bruce says, one heavy thigh leisurely wedged between Clark's. His hair is a mess, licked up at the side. "They reported some anomalies on their system logs. Nothing as serious as a breach, but definitely some activity beyond the usual."

Clark can forgive Bruce's unusual idea of pillowtalk, just for the way he turns keen when he talks shop--gets that sharp, analytical look to his face. "Like someone's testing it?" he asks.

"Mm. Probing in order to calibrate their own device. I got a technician on it immediately, patched in a new layer of security protocols. Next time they try, they'll find themselves back at square one." He pauses. "I should be running the data. I want to be out there tonight."

"So what's stopping you?" Clark says.

"Beats me." Bruce swings out of bed and onto his feet. He glances back at Clark, one corner of his mouth drawn up. Clark can't help but smile back, and maybe surreptitiously appreciate his back muscles when he rolls his shoulders and pulls on some pants.

*

"There you are," Bruce mutters, "amateurs." He rattles off some keyboard commands and a stream of data overflows into a new window; he scrolls through it quickly and then pushes back off the desk, chair wheeling. "Nothing I didn't already know. The patch I deployed will hold up fine if this is the level they're operating at."

"So what now, stake the bank out until they show up to give it their best shot?" Clark leans back against the desk, crosses his ankles. He can sense the ambient temperature of the cave is on the cool side, but it's not bothering him despite the lack of a shirt. He feels luminous. Bruce seems similarly unaffected, and Clark wonders if he's accustomed to stalking around down here half-nude.

"I already have surveillance up, but--" Bruce frowns, taps at his mouth with one finger, then turns back to his keyboard. "I have an idea." More machine-gun typing, Bruce's face set in a narrow scowl of concentration as he composes a page full of raw code apparently out of thin air.

"What's this?" Clark leans in and tries to make some sense of it, but it's all gibberish to him. He can't even pick out anything that might be an array or a variable string. He doesn't doubt that the entire language is custom, though at this point he wouldn't put it past Bruce to be able to hammer out machine code on a whim.

"Sh." Bruce's typing slows, but he addresses Clark without pausing or even sparing him a glance. "Find me a sequencer."

Right. Bat mode engaged, evidently. Clark pokes around the workbenches--some of Bruce's toys are laid out with all their complex guts unraveled, along with a half-empty coffee cup forgotten in a nest of wiring and a spare pair of glasses. For all his air of disapproval, Alfred is one hell of an enabler.

Near that, he spies a number of the smooth black cases similar to the one Matches handed over to Alfred a few nights ago, stacked next to a stripboard prototype and few boxes of electronic components. He grabs one of them.

"Hook it up," Bruce tells him. "Turn it on."

Clark has an exciting premonition of all the fights they are going to have in the future, and how many of them are going to start with Bruce bossing him around like this. In this instance he's not sure if he wants to take Bruce down a peg or if he wants to be ordered right back into bed again, but that's beside the point.

(If Clark hadn't seen Bruce genuinely undone by his hand, he might be a little worried about that whole control-and-manipulate thing he'd been considering.)

As it is, Clark decides that he's stubborn enough that he won't let it pass without comment, and adopts a deferential tone, all office intern. "Right away, Mr. Wayne." It earns him an entertainingly scathing look, and he didn't even lay it on that thick. He volleys with a placid smile. Passive aggressive, sure. Effective? Debatably.

"Sorry," Bruce says, sounding anything but. "Please, and thank you." He gives his keyboard a final strike on the return key, then laces his fingers and turns his palms outward in a long stretch that pulls at the sinewy muscle of his forearms.

It's absolutely calculated. Clark gravitates to him anyway. "Jerk," he says, quiet and fond.

"I've been called worse things by more polite people." Bruce's screen begins a stop-start flurry of output, compiling the program. He tilts his head a fraction and his eyes glint in the sterile glow as he reaches to extract a USB cable from somewhere behind the monitors. He hands it to Clark. "Hook it up," he says. The please is still silent, but more present--he doesn't pass up the opportunity to let their fingers brush.

And, of course, Clark's aware that Bruce doesn't need his help to plug in a cable. Terseness aside, he appreciates Bruce's effort to loop him in. He slots the connector home and a blue LED blinks on, recessed into one of the bevelled edges. When he flips the device open it lights up with a slick GUI, dominated by the WayneTech logo. "Okay," he says.

Bruce's profile is limned by its bright display. On his screen, he drags the executable, glances at Clark. "Tell me what it's doing."

"Not much." Clark twirls his finger, a mime approximating the idle animation in the corner of the screen. "Thinking, I guess."

Bruce grunts. He looks over his code, amends it while he mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like semicolons, every damn time, then sets it compiling again.

"Okay," he says, clicks and drags. "Now?"

The sequencer's screen dies.

"Oh. Uh-oh," Clark says, and swipes his fingers over it in an attempt to wake it up. No luck, so he runs his fingers around its edges in search of a button that might do something. Unplugs and re-plugs the cable. Shakes it a little. Even after this full extent of his technological troubleshooting, it remains resolutely dead. "Bruce, I think it might be--"

"Bricked?"

"Yup." Clark turns the device over to Bruce; tens of thousands of dollars worth of useless plastic and glass. It makes him feel a little sick. "Sorry."

Bruce observes it blankly for a moment, then breaks into a grin, sharp enough to cut. "Excellent."

*

As far as Clark understands it, the plan is this: Batman will break into Gotham National Bank's main server room, update the firmware on their security, and anyone attempting to interact with the system at any branch using a WayneTech-branded device will find it rendered inoperative. His computer will log when it happens, intercept the nearest municipal CCTV feed, and leave him free to round up the perpetrators at his leisure. Added bonus: no further risk of a heist going off with WayneTech's electronic signature left all over it. His reputation has suffered more than the requisite, lately.

Unsurprisingly, Clark doesn't factor into these proceedings at all.

"No," Bruce says.

"You need me to watch your back," Clark says. "I know you've done your fair share of B&E but come on, it's a bank--"

"I don't need you to do that."

"What if they decide to rob the place while you're inside? If I'm there to give you a heads up--"

"I can handle it." Bruce flattens his hand to the palm reader; the Batsuit is revealed, looming in the downlit alcove, cowl a hollow void. Clark stares at it, momentarily derailed. He's acutely conscious of the second empty costume at his back.

He gives himself a quick shake. "I know, but--"

"Clark," Bruce says. "No."

"Okay," Clark says, sighing. "Alright. At least--just let me take a walk around the block while you do your thing. It feels like forever since I was in a city." If he sounds wistful, he doesn't mean to. Gotham would never be his first choice, but he does miss it--being among other people, part of a teeming whole. To listen to the buildings around him and hear a hundred heartbeats echoing back.

Bruce turns to him, incredulous. "You're going to take a stroll around Gotham. Alone. In the early hours. I thought you wanted to help, not give me more work."

"I won't get into trouble," Clark tells him. "It's a good neighborhood, right?"

Bruce actually pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Besides," Clark says, sensing weakness. He plays his trump card while he still has the chance. "We had a deal."

Bruce takes a long breath through his nose, lets it out. "Get out of here," he says. "Get dressed."

*

Clark's back in the cave in fifteen. Bruce is in uniform from the neck down, and Clark vividly remembers his first night here, the surreality of seeing Bruce like this, how it had made him want--

He reaches out and strokes his thumb across Bruce's neck, and over the dense weave of the Bat's skin. The cave lights throw his face into stark shadow, but Clark senses his eyes drift closed. His heart thrums, chest rising steadily in even breaths.

Then Bruce curls his fingers around Clark's hand; cool, dry leather and a steel grip. He turns it palm up, drops a tiny device into it. "Communicator," he says, voice like a landslide. "Only use it if you need to."

Clark slots it into his ear, watches dry-mouthed as Bruce pulls on the cowl.

*

The Batman drives like the devil is on his tail--exhilaratingly reckless but with such fine precision that Clark can almost enjoy it. Almost. He keeps a very careful grip on the upholstery either side of his knees as Bruce downshifts and floors the accelerator, engine roaring, and they're catapulted down the roads into Gotham proper.

They burn over the island's bridges, deep into the heart of Diamond. If Clark hadn't already suspected that Bruce might be showing off, the completely unnecessary handbrake turn into a side alley would have clued him in fast.

"Well," Clark says once his bones have rattled to a stop, a little breathless. "Thanks for the ride."

Bruce smirks. The door locks pop open. He grabs Clark's arm when he's halfway out of the vehicle. "Watch yourself," he says in his modulated growl. "Metropolis on a bad day has nothing on Gotham when she's good."

"I hear you," Clark says, straightening up. The night is warm, stored summer heat radiating from the city's sooty brickwork. He can smell ozone and burning rubber, fast food somewhere. There's the low, steady drum of a nightclub beat, percussive jazz from someplace else. He can hear the fizz of a neon sign as it flickers through its rainbow colors. Bruce smells sharp, like adrenaline.

Bruce hops out, advances on him where he stands. "I mean it," he says. "If you find trouble, call it in." He pauses. "Don't be a hero."

"That," Clark says, and pushes subtly against the bounds of gravity until he is a few inches from the gravel-strewn sidewalk, a few inches taller than Bruce. "Will be difficult."

*

:D How is it that I'm just as thrilled about getting to see Bruce and Clark collaborate as I was about them banging?!? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME. I love everything about this, from Clark deciding he loves how Bruce's face gets when he's starting to Batmode to every bit of dialogue, Bruce's focus and Clark gently trolling him, from their bargaining over Clark helping out to that pitch-perfect description of Bruce's driving. And that last exchange of dialogue! Anon, HOW ARE YOU SO GREAT. I'm so excited at the way the plottiness is coming together, and I can't wait to read the next part!

I am always here for Clark gently trolling Bruce. Always poke the Bat!

Haha as far as plot goes it's paper-thin, but it's not like I even started with any in mind to begin with, so! Contrivances to make them work together and banter/bicker a little will do just fine :P

(I know we have sex-on-the-Batmobile prompts but oh hey, it turns out that Clark 'appreciating' Bruce's driving has just as much appeal for me :DDD)

Eeeeeeeeh, Bruce in Bat mode. SO here for that. :D And I love that Clark gets to help a little.

For all his air of disapproval, Alfred is one hell of an enabler.
I feel like this sums up Alfred perfectly in one sentence.

Clark has an exciting premonition of all the fights they are going to have in the future, and how many of them are going to start with Bruce bossing him around like this. In this instance he's not sure if he wants to take Bruce down a peg or if he wants to be ordered right back into bed again, but that's beside the point.
Bruce bossing Clark around is great, not like Clark doesn't love it. Also thanks for the mental image of Clark as Bruce's intern, haha.

the Batsuit is revealed, looming in the downlit alcove, cowl a hollow void. Clark stares at it, momentarily derailed. He's acutely conscious of the second empty costume at his back.
I love this, such a great image. And of course it'd freak Clark out a little. And Bruce showing off while driving, haha. :D

And oh boy, Clark is so going to get himself in trouble, isn't he. *facepalm*

He might sigh and he might grouse, but Alfreds always gonna have Bruce's back <3

Also thanks for the mental image of Clark as Bruce's intern
You're welcome ;D Where's that prompt for them screwing in Bruce's office gone...

And oh boy, Clark is so going to get himself in trouble, isn't he.
With Bruce, maybe :D

Thank you for your lovely comment, anon <3333

NGL, Clark hovering just slightly off the ground might be sexier than any other thing they've done together at this point, just casually showing off his powers as Bruce is playing the Bat. It's like the start of every homoerotic moment in Superman/Batman comics ever, and it's probably definitely maybe a slight actual kink.

This fill has been amazing from the very get-go. I never thought it'd end up with Bruce and Clark being all casually domestic while working a case in the Batcave. The sparring has been AMAZING, the porn SUPER-HOT, but my god, its just so heart-smashingly intimate for them to solve crime together.

Clark hovering just slightly off the ground might be sexier than any other thing they've done together at this point, just casually showing off his powers as Bruce is playing the Bat

http://i.imgur.com/A7PzC4X.jpg y/n? ;D

Thank you, anon <33 Trust me, nobody is surprised as I am at what this turned into, but I can't say I'm sorry :D

O: OH YEP THAT'S IT, THAT'S THE STUFF.

I am 100% glad that you are not sorry. The kinkmeme would be poorer for it if you were. *offers kinkmeme cookies*

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DCEU Prompt Post #1

Fill: Whoever Falls First -- Bruce/Clark, sparring (16/18ish)

Re: Fill: Whoever Falls First -- Bruce/Clark, sparring (16/18ish)

Re: Fill: Whoever Falls First -- Bruce/Clark, sparring (16/18ish)

Re: Fill: Whoever Falls First -- Bruce/Clark, sparring (16/18ish)

Re: Fill: Whoever Falls First -- Bruce/Clark, sparring (16/18ish)

Re: Fill: Whoever Falls First -- Bruce/Clark, sparring (16/18ish)

Re: Fill: Whoever Falls First -- Bruce/Clark, sparring (16/18ish)

Re: Fill: Whoever Falls First -- Bruce/Clark, sparring (16/18ish)