Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/776160.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Batman_(Comics), Superman_(Comics), Batman_-_All_Media_Types, Superman_-
      All_Media_Types, Superman/Batman_(Comics)
  Relationship:
      Clark_Kent/Bruce_Wayne, Superman/Batman
  Character:
      Clark_Kent, Bruce_Wayne, Superman, Batman
  Additional Tags:
      Underage_-_Freeform, Dubious_Consent, dub-con, Alternate_Universe_-_No
      Powers, Blowjobs
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-04-27 Words: 936
****** The Wayne Scholar ******
by littlechinesedoll
Summary
     Bruce didn't date. He had flings and one night stands, not
     relationships. but when a Wayne Scholar who went by the name of Clark
     Kent was sent to live with him, he might reconsider.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
“So you’re the Wayne Scholar they sent to live with me,” Bruce eyed what looked
like a farm boy, backing up into the room so he could let the master of the
house enter. He closed the door gently, and two faint clicking sounds were
heard; one from the door closing, and the other from the lock of the knob.
“Yes,” the farm boy nodded, nervously. He had no idea why he was nervous when
the boy in front of him was obviously younger than him. Maybe it was because
his boy, at his age, already had so much power. “My name is–”
“Clark Kent, yes, I know,” Bruce went forward, observing Clark from head to
toe. Clark was taller by a few inches, and Bruce thought that would indicate
also that he was a few years his senior. He had short black hair that was
combed to the side, glasses that hid his bright blue eyes, the usual farm boy
plaid shirt and jeans with what looked like work or safety boots. The young
billionaire raised a brow. This dude needed a wardrobe change.
“Um…well…good afternoon, sir,” said Clark, unable to say anything else.
“Drop the ‘sir.’ I assume you’re older than me.” said Bruce, moving forward
once more, “Call me Bruce,” he whispered as he circled Clark, once again
looking at him from head to toe.
Bruce stood about two steps before Clark, and put a finger to his chest, then
trailed it gently down to his navel. His eyes followed his finger. Clark had no
idea what Bruce was doing. For some reason, Clark thought Bruce was judging–no,
that’s not the right word–more like, evaluating him. But for what?
The young billionaire’s smirk widened just a bit more as he felt Clark’s chest
and abs from under the plaid shirt. Clark reddened at the quick touch of his
finger. “Well aren’t you well toned.” He said, moving his hands to the farm
boy’s biceps. “Well toned indeed,” he withdrew his hands and further inspected
him, wondering what to do to him and with him for the next year of his stay.
“Let’s get rid of this, and this,” Bruce took off Clark’s glasses, and pushed
him onto the bed so he could ruffle his hair.
“Wh-what are you–” Clark tried to speak, but Bruce didn’t let him. Then he
realized he couldn’t take his eyes off the person who had given him the
opportunity to study at a good school. He was slim, and he looked amazing in
the smart casual get up. Clark found Bruce’s eyes pulling him somewhere deep,
somewhere he hadn’t gone before. His hands were soft and warm; they felt like
the hands of someone who didn’t do any work at all.
Wait, why were his pants tighter all of a sudden?
“Giving you a very much needed make-over,” said Bruce, combing Clark’s hair
back with his hand so it would look more natural, or at least a bit windswept.
It looked better. Clark looked better. Clark looked more than better. He looked
handsome. “I’ll see you at dinner, Clark,” Bruce winked at him and turned
around, headed for the door.
Clark stared at him. How could someone that young have so much confidence? How
could someone so young have the power to intimidate people who were older than
him? He stood up, and went after him, putting a hand on Bruce’s shoulder before
he could open the door. “Um, Bruce–”
Bruce grabbed a hold of Clark’s hand, and slammed him onto the door. “Are you
really as thick as you look?” he asked, moving closer to him. He could tell
that Clark was already uneasy.
“I beg your pardon?” Clark looked down at the younger boy whose hands kept him
up the door.
Bruce smiled a bit, then lifted Clark’s shirt so he could see his belt. “My,
my,” he chuckled, “Aren’t you excited,”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–!” Clark gasped when Bruce started to fumble with
his belt. “Wh-what are you doing!”
The younger brunette undid the jeans and released what was begging to relieved.
“You’re quite the big boy, Clark,” another chuckle escaped Bruce’s lips, then
started stroke the erect length. “Haven’t you ever tried masturbating before?”
he whispered.
“Stop that!” However, despite all Clark’s begging for him to stop, Bruce didn’t
stop, and even got down on his knees to take the farm boy’s length into his
mouth. He couldn’t even take all of him. Clark winced. Bruce’s mouth was so
hot, and he felt like he was going to blow his load any second with the force
of the sucking Bruce was doing. Was he experienced? “No–! Get off–!” he put his
hands on Bruce’s shoulders, wanting to push him off, but his body didn’t
listen.
For a while, the only sound in the room was Clark’s heavy breathing. Clark
didn’t know what to think, only that what Bruce was doing was definitely
immoral. But then again, he was, too, since he let Bruce do it.
Bruce bobbed his head faster. He could feel Clark tense, and he knew very well
what that meant. A few more moments later, Clark released, and the seed was
forced down Bruce’s throat. His knees buckled, and he joined Bruce on the
floor. “What the hell did you do that for?” he panted.
Bruce wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. “That was fast,” Clark
didn’t seem to like that remark. Then he kissed Clark’s cheek. He was so
breaking up with Oliver Queen. He was boring. “You’re cute. Let’s date,”
End Notes
     Originally posted on tumblr.
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