It takes him a moment as the cuffs are pulled free, the proximity still meddling with him until he gets a handle on them and throws them to the other side of the library. Once they're gone, the color returns to his face and a certain sparkle comes back to his eyes.

"How silly, Wayne," he says with a slow, sly grin. "After all, I'm not a fool. Why, oh why, would I waste the opportunity for something as sweet-smelling as you by hurting you?"

He moved and Bruce was held up against one of the bookshelves, mostly by the press of Clark's body.

"You wanted me to stay here, after all. Right here? Or would a bed work better?"