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The Birthday Present	By : Kip Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 8478 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Batman series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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"This neighbourhood is creepy," Sandy moved a fraction closer to Bruce. "Especially at night."
"Yes. It was a real stroke of bad luck having two flat tires in the one evening." Bruce agreed. "And plain annoying to lose cell-phone coverage at the same time. We should be able to pick it up again once we get to that corner though." He wasn’t worried about walking down the alley; he spent enough time patrolling this part of the city, at night, alone, in his 'other suit'.
Why can't I get a signal? It was unusual to say the least, his not being able to raise anyone, not that he was going to let Sandy know that: the blond was uneasy enough already.
Coincidence is one thing; but this is beginning to look deliberate.

As they were walking, Bruce detected the sound of a car engine gradually gaining on them.
Doesn’t sound like the driver's about to run us over, more like he's trying to catch us up… I don’t like it, not one bit.
"Sandy, stay close to me. Whatever happens, I'll protect you. You know that, don’t you?"
"Yeah." Sandy smiled. "You always look after me, Bruce; but now I can help too."
Before Bruce could make any comment about Sandy using his 'gifts' to help them, their uninvited company arrived.
The car swished to a halt, spreading the remains of the earlier rain across the cobbles. With a low purr, the window wound slowly down.
"Evening gents. Need a lift?" The voice was unfamiliar; but the tone was not; nor was the muzzle of the automatic that nosed out from the interior.
"No thanks." Bruce replied, "I make it a habit never to get into cars with strange men."
"Very wise of you," The man inside smiled, his teeth a white crescent against the velvet dark of the car interior. "And you may certainly opt to remain here if you wish; however, I must insist that your charming companion accompanies me."
"Why?" Sandy asked.
"Oh come now, surely no one is that simple; not in this day and age?" The polished tones of the gunman queried.
It was on the tip of Bruce's tongue to mention that the blond at his side was exactly that simple at times; however, someone beat him to it...

"Why do people keep assuming that I'm daft?" Sandy sounded really annoyed. "I'm not! And I'm not going anywhere without Bruce!"
"Then my employer will have the pleasure of both of you as company." The man in the car decided. "Men, show them that we are not in the mood to be trifled with."
The other windows in the car slid down, and a series of unpleasantly effective looking weapons pointed out into the cool air of the alley.
"No way." Sandy point-blank refused.
"Our orders specify not to harm you, Mr Smith; however, we are not operating under similar restrictions where your friend is concerned." The man in the car warned. "One move and Mr Wayne will acquire a new set of perforations… Holes." He added.
The shadows shifted, darkening ominously, and the night seemed just that little bit more unfriendly. Sandy pressed tight against Bruce.
"Before you even think about messing with them, ask yourselves this, do you really want to tangle with me?" A baritone growl rumbled out of the concealing blackness at the base of the adjacent building.
It can't be! Bruce stared at the familiar silhouette. It can't …

Cut from the Night itself, the ends of the cloak flapped in the breeze like wings. Lit from behind, the pointed cowl, rising from impressively broad shoulders, concealed any hint of expression; despite that, the white-lensed eyepieces fairly blazed with menace. A thickly gloved hand lifted.
"You two; move away from the vehicle." The finger pointed at Bruce and Sandy. "Get over here, away from that car, and then STAY put."
"Come on, Bruce!" Sandy tugged at Bruce's hand.
Bemused, Bruce let himself be led.
"It can't be!" One of the men in the car groaned. "It can't be the Bat!"
You're right about that … because I'm right here… Bruce thought. Not that that fact seemed to be making any difference right at this moment.
"It is!" His comrade groaned. "It’s the freaking Batman!"
"How could you even know we were here?" The first man queried, less certain now.
"If you know who I am, then you must have some idea of what I can do?" The Dark Knight replied, his tone low and menacing. "My advice is that you leave these people alone. Now and in the future."
"So the rumours are true?" Their would-be abductor sounded interested. "You do have some connection to Bruce Wayne! Is he your financier?"
Rumours? Bruce focussed his full attention on the conversation.
"There are always lots of rumours." The Batman aired his teeth dangerously. "But the thing I'm most interested in right now, is what business you have with Mr Wayne and his companion?"
"I was employed to locate and retrieve the blond." The man in the car had evidently decided to co-operate. "Naturally, intervention by any sort of costumed entity automatically invalidates the contract." He sniffed. "People really should read the small print more closely…"
The Batman ignored that. "What interest might your former employer have in this particular blond?" He asked bluntly.
"I wasn’t told, and I didn’t ask."
"You didn’t ask?" Batman's voice dropped a notch colder. "You admit that you agreed to go out and abduct someone, and you seriously expect anyone to believe that you didn’t bother finding out why?"
"It makes things easier in the long run." The other replied indifferently.
"You're lying." The door of the car was suddenly wrenched off its hinges. Recoiling the monofilament line and swiftly replacing the batarang in his belt, the Batman leapt.

Landing deftly on top of the ruined door, the Dark Knight had the struggling man out of the seat and spread across the bonnet before anyone else in the vehicle could react. "Now, tell me that last part again…" He growled. "From the top."
"Easy, okay?" The man struggled against the unyielding armour. "Don’t break my back!"
"Lack of spine is the least of your worries at the moment." The Batman assured him.
"I'm telling you the truth."
"Maybe you are. I don’t know and frankly I don’t care; but that doesn’t matter."
"It doesn’t?" There was the beginning of real fear in the gunman's tones. "What are you going to do with us?"
"I'm going to offer you one chance. I have a new assignment for you. Return to your natural habitat and make sure that the word gets out that Mr Wayne and his companion have protection the likes of which the average mind cannot begin to comprehend. Should there ever be a next time," Batman leant forward, looming over the trapped criminal like the predator that he was.
"Which I do strongly advise against, the next set of unfortunate miscreants will not be so lucky: THEY will be found in very small pieces… always assuming that they are ever found at all." Finally, the grim vigilante set his shivering captive down on the wet ground. "Do we understand each other?"
"Y.y.yes." The man blinked. "Yes, sure… anything you say."
"Just pass on my message. Tell Mr Luthor and any other of his little friends who might come calling, that they aren't going to get what they want; but that they certainly will get what's coming to them." Batman eyed the man coldly. "Be sure and tell Luthor all of that … I'll be most displeased otherwise."
"I'll do it!" The man scrambled to his feet and leapt back into the car. "Let's get the hell out of here!" He barked. "MOVE, you fuckwits!"
In a screech of tires, the car accelerated wildly down the narrow alley and was gone, sans door.

"Batman?" Bruce stood and gaped openly at the figure standing just in front of him. Same height, same build, same almost imperceptible bump on the lower lip where there was a small scar... Except for the armour, Bruce could have been looking in a mirror.
A mirror?
"Sandy?" He turned to his companion.
"Oh, did you see their faces!" Sandy was jubilant. "And yours!" He grinned, and reached out, obviously intent on pulling Bruce toward him.
“I thought at first it must be Kal wearing some of my armour; but it isn't, is it?” Sliding free, Bruce eyed him coolly. "You're doing this, aren't you?"
"Oh, don’t be mean!" Sandy pouted. "Well, if you don't appreciate me I won't be nice to you. Maybe I'll take up with the Batman instead?" He grinned over at the silent figure. "How about it, Big Boy?"
The cloaked vigilante took a step forward. "Better yet," The deep voice purred. "Why don’t we do both?"
"Yeah!" Sandy laughed, and catching hold of Bruce's hand again, he leant against him, gazing up at him cheekily from under the curtain of his fringe.
"You need a hair cut." Bruce told him, making an educated guess at why Sandy was talking one minute and silent the next.
"I don’t." The Batman replied, the tones wavering just a fraction. "Oh… bugger."
"You little devil!" Bruce caught the normal Sandy up and, spinning him rapidly around, pressed him up against the brick wall. With an almost inaudible pop the false Batman was gone, leaving the two of them alone in the alley.

"Ewww! Wet!" The blond protested. "Bruce!"
"I knew it was your doing!" Bruce didn’t know whether to hug him or spank him. "But you had me going for a while! How did you do that?"
"I suddenly thought that if I could make Other Me look and sound like this me, then I might also be able to make Other Me look and sound like … Other You." Leaning forward Sandy breathed the last word across Bruce's ear, which made Bruce's skin tingle and started him thinking about more interesting ways to get damp than standing around in a cold wet back-alley.
"Let's get home." He said firmly. "Before you get a chill. You're soaked."
"You did that!" Sandy reminded him. "That wall was icky."
"Icky?" Bruce injected as much disbelief into the word as he could manage. "Wet, moist or damp, certainly; but not 'icky'."
"How would you know? It wasn’t your back that got pressed against it!" Sandy countered. "And I like you getting me wet, or moist, or even damp in patches… but not icky." He added shamelessly. "And I didn’t like that. So that was icky."
Faced with that sort of logic, Bruce had no choice but to capitulate.

* * * * *

"What was all that stuff about Lex Luthor?" Bruce recalled one part from the conversation in the dark alley, as he scrubbed contentedly at his left foot with a soapy sponge.
"It was in that man's mind. Someone from LuthorCorp hired him to come after me." Sandy answered readily. "This me, I mean."
So that mind reading talent can still be put to good use at times? Well, that's… interesting…
"Which, while it doesn’t prove anything, almost certainly means that Lex is involved in this somehow, or knows who is…" Bruce said grimly.
Which tallies perfectly with how fascinated Luthor's been all along…
"Exactly." Sandy said with a sudden air of barely-concealed irritation. "But I'm not as helpless as I used to be. In fact, if it is Lex, and he persists in chasing this, then next time we meet I'm going to make it a personal point to make him very, very sorry."
And you would do, wouldn’t you? Not that the bald bastard doesn’t more than deserve it… It occurred to Bruce that it would almost be worth the hassle, just to see Lex Luthor get his arse royally handed to him by the Moonshadow… almost…
Of course, if Luthor ever got an inkling of what Sandy can do now, he'd never rest until he'd found a way to turn that to his advantage.
"So that other form can look like anything it wants to?" Bruce lay back in the hot water, and listened to the sound of bubbles popping, while he watched his energetic companion rinsing himself.
"You missed the bit behind your ear." He pointed out, nearly laughing when Sandy misinterpreted him and went for the left instead of the right. "No… the other ear."
"How do I know which ear you meant?" Sandy protested. "I can't see out of the side of my head. And my other isn't here, so I can't see my other ears."
Bruce sighed. "You really are blond all the way through, aren't you?" He asked patiently. The gesture that was sent his way only made him smile. "It won't work. I'm not going to do it for you. I'm comfortable and I'm not moving." Closing his eyes he lounged in the tub, feeling justifiably smug.
"'Kay."
That was too easy. Bruce was instantly suspicious. Far too easy… Automatically he opened his eyes.
Oh shit!
There were now three people in Bruce’s bathroom.

Sandy and the moonshadow smirked at each other. The other self, seemingly a perfect copy of the original this time, nodded and scooted along the outside of the bath.
Bruce suddenly felt hands press on his shoulders. "No!" He yelled; but it was too late. There was nothing to hold onto and he had barely enough time to grab a breath and close his mouth before he was summarily dunked. Scrubbing foamy water out of his eyes he sat up and glared. "You little…"
"Now,"
"Now," The two Sandy's said in unison.
"There may only physically be one of me." Bruce growled dangerously, letting the Bat out just a little. "But one of me is more than a match for the two of you; assuming you play fair."
"Play fair?" The moonshadow asked. "Where's the fun in that?"
"What are you going to do, Sandy?" Bruce was immediately suspicious.
"Just having a nice bath," The moonshadow told him, not bothering with the appearance of clothes and looking every bit as pink, human and naked as the original Sandy, "It looks lovely in there: far too good to waste."
“There’s loads of space!” The original self chuckled and held out a hand. "Come on in!"
"Don’t mind if I do…" Grinning, the moonshadow rested a foot on the edge of the tub.
"No! Don’t!" Bruce still didn’t know what that energy was, or how it held together, and getting himself or Sandy electrocuted in the bathtub was definitely not on his 'To Do' list for today; or any other day, come to that. Not being designed to move through water though, he wasn’t quite quick enough to prevent the double joining in. Not that he had any concept of what he would have done had he gotten there any sooner.
We're dead! As the moonshadow slid in with them, Bruce very nearly had a heart attack on the spot.

"Jesus Christ!" Bruce gasped, once the expected sizzle failed to manifest and he felt able to stop holding his breath, and other things; though why he was doing that, he had no idea. It wasn’t as if it would have made any difference anyway.
"No." They both told him in unison. "Sandy."
Bruce groaned; one of the blond wasn’t enough, he had to have two?
"Yeah?" The original asked.
"Yeah!" The double answered, and ducked under the water.
"No way!" Bruce tried to jump to his feet, and leap out of the bath, all at the same time. The water was still slowing his progress.
"Way!" Sandy yelled happily.
Bruce never had a chance, both he and the tub were slippery with foam, and four hands working in perfect unison locked onto him and dragged him back. Added to that, was the fact that neither of the pair was anywhere near as bothered about touching Bruce as he was about touching them: the giving or receiving of pain not being on his 'To Do' list either.
The struggle was brief, energetic, and very soapy.

Good job I have a really big bathtub… Sulking slightly, Bruce lay there; not that he had all that much choice at that moment.
"Mmmm! Isn't this nice!" One of the Sandy's said smugly, holding Bruce in a reasonably well executed neck lock, while the other one looked on in amusement.
"You taught me how to do that." The unencumbered Sandy reminded him.
"I remember." Bruce promised. Of course, he could have broken free of the hold at any time had he really wanted to; but this was still Sandy, and Bruce really didn’t want to hurt the blond: the flesh currently touching his felt perfectly human and therefore vulnerable.
If I do leave any visible bruises, Alfred will never let me hear the end of it… Bruce reminded himself grimly, Plus I'll probably never get another shag as long as I live. And since neither of them is hurting me, I can't exactly claim self-defence … Besides, the other one might decide to defend this one, and we really don’t want that: not if the moonshadow version turns out to be 'live' in the electrical sense...
Although if it was, then shouldn’t the bath already be electrified?
Don’t think about it … maybe it'll all go away?

"Are you okay, Bruce?" The version Bruce had just about decided must be the moonshadow asked.
"Just perfect," He muttered tartly, hoping that it wouldn’t be much longer before the pair abandoned this particular game for something new. Ideally before he started to wrinkle.
Thankfully Sandy usually has a fairly short attention span…
"Yes," Something foot-shaped slid along Bruce's leg. "Yes, you are perfect…" Sandy agreed. "Wanna fuck like bunnies?"
"What?" Bruce tried to concentrate on being outraged; but the sensation of toes currently delicately exploring his groin area was making that a little difficult. The touch was inviting and remarkably gentle. It was also arousing as hell.
"Wally says that to Kal." The blond explained.
The neck lock softened into a definite cuddle. "Kal likes it. A lot." Fingers started to play with Bruce's hair.
Bruce wasn’t going to be sidetracked by that either. "Wally can say what he likes to Kal," He said tersely. "But personally I'd rather not hear you using that particular phrase again," He brought out the metaphorical big guns, "Unless you want to explain it to Alfred?"
"Sorry." The other Sandy said, and leaning forward, pressed a tender kiss to the side of Bruce's face. “Really.”
There was no explosion. At least nothing that anyone outside the room would have noticed.
Bruce hoped that his heart might gradually resume something like a normal rhythm, although he wasn’t counting on it happening anytime soon.
"Yes, sorry, Bruce." The Sandy holding him agreed.
"I wouldn’t upset you for the world." They both told him, assuming identical expressions.
"Don’t." Bruce closed his eyes and waited. "Do not give me the 'puppy dog' eyes!"
"Awww!" Two voices chorused in flawless synchronisation.
"Can I have just one of you?" Bruce pleaded, eyes still tight shut.
"Wouldn’t you rather have both of me?" Came the soft suggestion. "I really want you… right now."

Bruce realised that he still had no idea which of the Sandy's was currently squeezing him, what with the intervening pandemonium and the distinct lack of distinguishing differences; though he was rapidly coming to the conclusion that right now it simply didn’t matter.
They've both touched me… and it didn’t hurt. Suggesting that Sandy's control was improving all the time...
Not that I ought to rely on that. He can be pretty ditzy at times…
Someone nibbled lightly at his ear, while someone else investigated his navel with what felt like the tip of a tongue.
Then again, he is getting really in the mood …
Bruce tried to mentally distance himself from what was happening with a little logical exercise: not because he wasn’t enjoying it now; but because that way he should be able to make himself last quite a lot longer: by this point his level of arousal wasn’t that far behind Sandy's.
If we take the statement 'blonds have more fun' as true…
Bruce shivered slightly as his ear was explored with wet enthusiasm.
Then would two versions of the same blond have twice as much fun?
Something bypassed his very interested cock and lapped at his balls.
Or would it be measured on a logarithmic scale?
Apparently whoever it was down there did not need to breathe, as the gentle exploration continued far beyond the time when most people would have had to resurface.
Who cares how he's doing it? Bruce gave up holding his own breath as the tongue dipped lower and did something incredibly naughty and unexpected.
That is fan-bloody-tastic! Does it matter which one of them it is? By now Bruce was no longer inclined to offer any complaints, not after the result set off what felt like fireworks all the way to the ends of his hair.
Oh god … That was intense!
It was at that stage that Bruce decided that, purely in the interests of scientific investigation, he really ought to get them all out of the bath so that the three of them could field test his new theory about the pleasure generating capabilities of identical blonds…

Afterwards Bruce wasn't quite sure exactly how they had got to that point; but somehow, during the kissing and mutual petting that both Sandy and hid duplicate were so amazingly talented at, the moonshadow had gone, and around about the same time a tube of lubricant had appeared in Sandy's hand.
Seems like a fair exchange… Before Bruce knew it, one well-slicked finger was sliding into Bruce's equally well-slicked posterior and feeling surprisingly welcome there.
Better than the way the other one gets up my arse, anyhow… If the lead up was a mystery, Bruce was perfectly clear about what came next…
"This time I want to make love to you." Sandy told him, "If you'll let me?"
"Do it." Bruce murmured, and when the hand dipped back down, he spread his legs willingly.
The minutes Sandy spent preparing him felt like the longest in his life; but Bruce held out, and Sandy held back, waiting, until finally Bruce was shivering in anticipation and not discomfort.
"Go on, Sandy," He lay there, impaled on three fingers. "Do it!"
Withdrawing his fingers, Sandy positioned himself with care. "Sure?"
"Yes." Bruce was hot and so willing that he was beginning to shake with need: it was now or never.
"Now…" He urged his partner; this was either going to be the best decision of his life, or the worst mistake Bruce could ever have made.
With no way to predict which, until it's far too late…

Leaning forward, Sandy gently pressed his weight onto him. Bruce felt both head and pressure in one. He automatically tightened; but Sandy was careful and patient and very slowly Bruce was able to relax enough to let him in.

A few seconds longer and the burn gradually transmuted into the most delirious pleasure. Of course he'd read about it; but the reality was like nothing Bruce had expected. Who would have imagined a simple gland could make you feel like that?
"Ready?" A last tentative push and Sandy was sheathed snugly, ball-deep in him.
All the way in… The weight was perfect, filling him, claiming him.
Oh god, he's fucking me… It was the closest Bruce ever expected to get to heaven, at least in this lifetime, and, from the sounds his lover was making, Sandy was in complete agreement.
"You feel so big." Bruce marvelled, unable to resist the urge to wriggle. "Is that how it is when I do this with you?"
"Guess so." Sandy chuckled, the heat of his breath making Bruce's neck tingle. "You really like it?" He whispered, cradling Bruce with exquisite care. "I hoped you would."
"God, yes!"
"Not hurting?"
"No… feels wonderful… Want you." Bruce pulled him down, loving the solidity of the other man laying on him.
"I'm not squashing you?" Sandy was asking.
"I like it. Do it more."
"Bossy…" The blond laughed, and pumped his hips slowly.
Oh god, that is bloody marvellous! Bruce was discovering that having Sandy take charge was quite the turn-on.
And having him take ME is even better!

For a few seconds they both took it slowly, breathing heavily and exchanging fevered kisses, the urge to move faster building within both of them, until finally, Bruce couldn’t hold out any longer. Becoming desperate, he rocked his hips. "Fuck me, hard," He pleaded, not caring what that might sound like. "Just do it…"
"Love to." Sandy complied, thrusting gently into him at first, building speed and power with every stroke, uttering short groans of pleasure which Bruce swallowed with great delight.
"Harder." Bruce whispered, breaking the kiss momentarily "I won't shatter." He hoped he was right about that, because the sensations were just about shorting out his nervous system.
It was tricky at first; but they soon found a rhythm that suited both: the sensation was phenomenal, and that only got better, particularly when the tip of Bruce's finger found what it was seeking in the cleft of Sandy's arse. He loved the way Sandy jerked and moaned when he touched him there, thrusting harder into him.
"Can't hold out…" Sandy warned.
Bruce groaned, feeling his balls begin to draw up. "Then don’t…"
Sandy gasped and moved faster. "Take it sweetheart, all of it!"
Wrapping both arms around him, Sandy pistoned down onto him, the heat building between them until Bruce thought he would melt from wanting.
Oh yes! So nearly there! Bruce's arm remained wrapped around Sandy's back, fingers digging into the ridged muscles, the other hand clasping the blond's rear as the tip of one finger unerringly located Sandy’s prostate.
"Yes!" Crying out, Sandy jerked and came, hard.
"Fuck!" As liquid heat jetted out of him the rest of the world exploded inside Bruce's head, whiting out in a climax so absolutely overwhelming that it took a while before his overloaded senses reluctantly began processing again.

Like all good things it was over far too quickly. As they lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, Bruce luxuriated in the sensations of afterglow, warm Sandy, and soft cotton sheets; as far as he was concerned, only one of those had any possible scope for improvement.
"Next time," he whispered to his golden lover. "We'll do it in my bed…"
"Mmmm?" Adorably sleepy blue eyes opened and gazed at him. "Why?" Sandy frowned for a moment, before taking a guess at what his lover was thinking. "Bigger bed?"
"No. Silk sheets." Bruce reminded him.
"Can't get cum stains off silk…" Sandy muttered. "Got it on a shirt once… marks never came off…" He added, snuggling unashamedly into Bruce's neck and giving it an affectionate nip.
"So?" Bruce remembered one of the other worthwhile reasons for having money, apart from allowing him to be the Batman. "We're both billionaires, remember?" He grinned languidly at his equally drowsy lover. "We'll take turns buying new sheets."
Hell, if it was going to be THIS good each time, then he might start thinking about buying a whole damn factory…
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The Birthday Present