Fourth Time's The Charm

The fourth time, he really mucked up

Clark was fuming.

They were at the Watchtower. Conducting a meeting of what has transpired within the months that Batman went missing.

His usual easy smile and friendly presence was replaced with a deep - edged scowl and an intense "fuck off" demeanor that even Arthur was hesitant to approach him. The source for his dark state lies ahead of him.

Bruce.

Bruce went on a one - man mission behind the League's back. Behind HIS back. Resulting in a life - threatening injury in his side. While he said that he stopped the bleeding and was fine now, it wasn't enough for him. He refused to speak to Bruce while he was healing. He hadn't wanted to rage at him for fear of reopening his wounds. Clark bided his time. Waited until Bruce has an all clear.

Today is the day.

"The mission proved to be successful as I have regained valuable intel that the League will have of use for, for future reference." Bruce concluded his speech.

"Alright, if there isn't more additional information. This meeting is dismissed." The team flinched at Clark's hard voice. Bruce's white lens - covered eyes narrowed at him. One by one, they left the room, clearly sensing Clark's tension. Diana, even in his state, approached him anyway.

"Kal, I know how you feel, but go easy on him. He has just recovered." She whispered putting a hand on his shoulder. He wanted to shrug off her touch. Diana has no idea whatsoever of how he feels. Without another word, he left.

He found Bruce, limping through the hallway. Unable to contain anymore, he stalked to Bruce. Grabbed him and pressed him against the wall. His arms on the either side of his head, caging him.

"Are you so completely arrogant that you thought yourself to be invulnerable?!" Clark bit out. Bruce stared at him, grim. Silence answering him. He shook in anger. Clark pulled back Bruce's cowl, exposing his face. He immediately wrapped a hand around his throat and squeezed. Not hard but enough for him to make a point.

"Well, tough shit! You aren't like the rest of us. You can't deflect bullets, your body isn't made of steel, you can't destroy an entire planet and you can't heal within minutes. You're only human!"

"..."

"You know I'm this close to having you locked up in my fortress. If it meant keeping you safe from yourself. Then so fucking be it!"

"..."

"What if the knife had gone deeper? What if it hit a vital organ? What if you had died?" His voice trembled as all the possible scenarios plagued at him. He loosened his grip on his neck. Closed his eyes and placed his forehead to Bruce.

"Tell me you won't do it again." He asked softly. Pleading.

"If given the same situation, without regret ...I'll do it again." Clark's eyes flew open. A new wave of anger rushed through him. He moved away from him.

"You are so full of yourself. Always thinking you could do it alone! You could have asked for help. For MY help! You know I would've done anything for you!" Clark shouted at him. Frustrated that the man couldn't understand his pain. His love for him.

"I don't need help. Not anyone's and especially not yours."

Hurt burst through his veins, making him see red. He slammed himself into Bruce's body and took his mouth. Clark's tongue delving inside his mouth so deep, he heard Bruce groan in pain. But he couldn't bring himself to stop. He felt Bruce trying to tear his mouth away from his. He wrapped a hand back his throat, halting his movements. Taking a deep breath, he pressed his mouth deeper, sucking his tongue.

Feel me, Bruce. Feel how much I--

He was suddenly pushed back. So hard, he bounced off the wall, creating an indent. He looked at Bruce catching his breath. His lips swollen, bruised, red.

Clark touched his lips and felt wetness.

Blood.

Bruce's blood.

Clark felt all energy leave his body at what he had done.

"...Bruce..."

"Stay the fuck away from me." Bruce bit out with gritted teeth. His posture was tense, his arm on the back of his utility belt. He knew what he held in there. Bruce's eyes full of menace.

Defiance.

Wrath.

Clark felt his eyes watering. He hung his head in sadness, unable to look at Bruce any longer.

"I'm sorry."

He will never forgive himself.

With a choked sob, he left the Watchtower.

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