The First Handshake Fic of Many...
Hello,
@joekitsu @murmeloni and I have come together and shaken hands. Over six months ago, the three of us made a pact where we would each write a fic about compromised somnophilia for superbat, where one party is drugged and/or otherwise made unable to wake up.
Today, that pact shall be upheld.
(Since then, there have been many other handshakes, all to be completed at a later date. Such handshakes, if you are curious, include: Mermaid AU, Cafe Shop AU, Professor/Student AU, Heatwave/Sweating, Accidental d**k pic, Demon/Priest AU, and Bullriding. Await our fics with great anticipation.)
But before then...
Behold, our long-awaited pieces. Please, enjoy.
My fic:
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
The walk up the stairs to their shared bedroom takes a while. Clark lags behind watching Bruce the entire way, who trails a steadying hand along the wall and stumbles over nothing every few feet. At the top of the stairs, Bruce feels a sudden bout of dizziness so strong he has to grip onto Clark’s arm to steady himself. He shakes his head to try and clear his swirling vision. Slowly, stubbornly, Bruce staggers towards their door, looming only a scant dozen feet away.
Just lift one foot…in front of…the…oth—
Darkness engulfs the world, and Bruce falls.
Clark takes one step and easily catches him, a small smile still present on his face.
“Oh, Bruce.” The Kryptonian chuckles with a bit of mirth at the now unconscious man in his arms. “You never do anything by halves, do you?”
He cannot believe he did this: slipping sleeping pills into the bowl of soup during dinner without anyone noticing. And now Clark’s got an arm full of sleeping Bat nestled safely in his arms, his body relaxed in artificial sleep.
-
Bruce falls asleep thanks to a couple of pills. Clark has some fun with Bruce's sleeping body. (Everything is all going according to the Bat's plan)
Mel's fic:
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Bruce gets cursed to eternal sleep. The cure? Getting fucked by his one true love. Too bad only Clark is available - or is it?
Kit's fic:
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
For now, he had Bruce. For now, he wouldn't be rejected for what he does. He wouldn't be turned away if he never asked, so why ask? He would contend himself with the scraps of affection Bruce gave him, and he would bury the ocean of agony underneath his skin until nobody could see it. He curled around Bruce, and felt the other man shift in his sleep, moving closer to Clark and huddling against his body heat. Bruce looked a little like a kitten, skittish and shy, testing out the limits of what it was allowed to do. Clark smiled into Bruce’s black hair, and closed his eyes. This had to be enough, it had to be.
Aka., The phrase 'Communication is Key' somehow slips from two of the greatest minds in the planet. These are the (stupid) consequences.
Written as part of a Handshake agreement: Compromised Somnophilia