A/N: Ty to our host @squealing-santa (this year @hypahticklish) and anyone else involved in making this a tradition every holiday season. It's always a tough spot to be put in to not be able to write someone's first choice of fandom characters, but I hope this compromise was worth it. It was especially hard for me to obtain inspiration for this fic, but still, I hope it doesn't come off that way.
Happy Holidays, @6phantom6angel6 !
Characters: Bruce Wayne (Batman) x Clark Kent (Superman)
Their sleeping habits were about what you'd expect from the Dark Knight and the Man of Steel. One spent his nights awake and fighting crime, so Bruce tended to sleep in. Clark was the one with the day job and normal nine to five working hours, so he was up at a reasonable morning hour. He also grew up on a farm where the roosters woke him up at the crack of dawn, so yeah, one could say Clark was a morning person.
And often Clark would wake before Bruce and lay in bed an hour extra just to see if he could be there when Bruce would naturally wake. Most of the time, he got too restless and couldn't wait it out, having to get up and make himself coffee. On the rare occasions where he did catch Bruce waking, he'd test that mood of the Batman's. Was he in the mood for Clark to be a cuddle bug? Did he want morning sex? Did he just want to lay there and not speak?
Today was one of those 'lay there' mornings. There was snow outside, as the wintertime air had chilled the entire manor. The chill, Clark would blame, caused him to snuggle close to Bruce overnight. But now he was laying there, apart from Bruce but head tilted on the pillow to watch the man closely. His breathing pattern had changed, Clark could pick up, so he was no longer asleep. It was almost like the man was feigning sleep so he wouldn't have to interact, laying there motionless as can be.
Clark slid a hand over under the covers and scratched at the base of Bruce's spine to give him a 'hello, I'm here' message. He felt Bruce's back arch in the opposite direction of his fingers and a small huff of air come from the man. Next, Bruce rolled over onto his stomach completely and stuffed his hands under the pillow beneath his head.
Clark smiled softly, now turning fully onto his side to face Bruce. The hand that slunk under the covers to reach his partner's side remained there and slid back up Bruce's back, now rubbing it. He felt Bruce tense at first and then sink further into his expensive sheets. Clark could never tell the difference and that always boggled Bruce's mind. You could melt into this cotton-silk hybrid by sight, he'd always say to him. Clark never cared much for the fancy things of human life, anyway.
The Kryptonian curled his fingers against the fabric of Bruce's shirt and dragged them up from the bit of fat and muscle by his neck, straight down his spine back to the base of his back. Bruce tried so hard not to jolt, and Clark caught every twitch.
"Feeling ticklish this morning?"
Those were the first words to leave Clark's mouth all morning, breaking their shared, sleepy silence for them. And hey, he was proud of it. He watched Bruce bury his face into his pillow and sigh, not giving him a verbal response. Typical.
Clark smiled and he scooted himself closer to Bruce's very prone, very open body. He didn't like so much that Bruce was wearing a shirt to bed lately. He was normally shirtless, but the winter cold that blew in had forced him to take on extra layers. Once the superpowered man was right beside Bruce, he wrapped his arm around Bruce's back fully and gingerly set all five fingertips against Bruce's side.
-- Was all that came out of Bruce's sleepy state and gravelly voice before he grunted when Clark dug in sharply to those pinpointed areas. The arms under his head twitched down and his elbows neared his own sides.
"Why not? I like it when you're like this," Clark teased. His thick arm remained fastened like a belt across Bruce's back, but now he traced those fingertips up, up, up, until he threaded his hand and arm through Bruce's still raised one. And Clark pulled back only a fraction to have Bruce prone before him with no effort on his part. Clark's chest was in contact with Bruce's back and he had Bruce's right arm pinned beneath their melded bodies, and the other he was keeping still in its naturally raised position with his free hand. They were also partially laying on their sides now, so Bruce wasn't flush against the mattress.
"Clark," Bruce warned because, oh yeah, Clark recognized his warning voice, all right. But he was in a cuddly state this morning that couldn't be quashed by Bruce's 'don't touch me' state.
"Good morning," was the response Superman gave to his Batman.
Clark hooked that arm tight and grabbed Bruce's other arm, creating an arm brace and handcuff all in one. Now he had his one hand completely occupied pinning his partner, but the other was free and limber and ready to deliver some tickles.
Clark positioned said hand at the dip in Bruce's side and that hand went under the loose-fitting shirt. Bruce's breath hitched. Clark gently wiggled his fingers against that sweet little dip in the side and he felt Bruce's bare heel collide into his shin and strain on his arm bond. But Clark was using his super strength and no way was Bruce going to get out of the hold until Clark was good and ready to release him.
But Bruce wasn't laughing, Clark noticed. Just huffing and grunting and squirming. He wasn't worried, he'd get him soon enough. Bruce wasn't one to outright belly laugh, even with friends. Even with provocation, as it turned out.
Clark applied more pressure and he scratched his fingers up to Bruce's ribcage, getting to the low ribs first and tickling his way up top. Up and down he went a few times. Bruce broke here, a quick burst of a laugh coming when Clark stuck his thumb just so under his bottommost rib and vibrated it there.
"Fuck," he heard Bruce curse.
Clark smiled, "My, you're cranky today.."
"You're a piece of work," Clark smirked and he lifted his hand off Bruce's body. Bruce was forced to watch as Clark brought his hand up near his face and then dropped it slightly down again, touching the bare tricep with silky soft skin. Skin without scars or callouses like much of the rest of his body. Which made it extra sensitive. Clark ghosted his fingertips onto this skin, knowing exactly what to do to make Bruce want to crawl out of his skin.
There they lay, flicking and caressing that tender, pale skin right above his armpit.
Bruce tried hiding his face into his raised arm, either of them the more he tried. He just needed to muffle the laughs that were sure to come from him soon. He let out small giggles and huffs of breath when they would come so close to bursting into full-blown laughter, so he'd have to let it out in small bits to avoid that embarrassing scene.
"Sensitive, sensitive," Clark whispered into Bruce's ear. Well that didn't help, the big jerk.
Clark had his hand poised in such a way that Bruce could not see where his hand was, just being able to feel the fingers when they'd make contact. Thank god Clark didn't keep his fingernails long or this would be unbearable. Or so Bruce thought, because the torment was soon turning unbearable anyway.
"Let's see what we've got under here..." Clark mused, just as Bruce whined,
Thick, calculated fingers slithered beneath the already loose short sleeve of Bruce's shirt and wiggled against the very exposed armpit. Clark's fingers were barely even tickling the hair hidden beneath the shirt at this spot before Bruce was laughing.
Clark smiled wide behind Bruce's head, tilting his back to avoid being headbutted in the nose. It wouldn't have hurt him, but he didn't want to end up leaving Bruce with a bump on the back of his head from the impact.
Clark's devious fingers did not cease their wiggles and skitters and spidering, right in the hollow with equally soft skin as the tricep. Once you'd get past the hair, it was soft. Bruce was laughing, hard. Clark loved it, he loved every second of this. To get the usually ornery man in a vulnerable position like this was a rare opportunity, and could only happen if he was waking from a slumber.
One finger in this spot was enough to rip a snort from Bruce's lips and Clark had to chuckle into the back of Bruce's neck. He removed his fingers from the armpit skin and resumed their tickling on the shirt covering the area. This did not seem to affect Bruce's reactions in the slightest. Clark stroked from Bruce's highest rib, all the way up past the armpit and tricep to the inside of his elbow, before wiggling back down. He liked the up and down patterns, as they kept the laughs coming from Bruce and it was exciting for him to administer.
Clark stopped tickling Bruce for a few seconds to let him relax before he let his arms free from their bond. Bruce lowered them completely and hunched himself over, pushing at Clark with his butt and back with the motion.
"Been awake, Clark, thanks for checking."
Clark grinned and he leaned over to kiss the back of Bruce's head. The man was adorable in the mornings, when he shouldn't have been awake, when he was all Clark's to toy with.
