Bruce’s back was leaning on the mountain of pillows behind him, comfortably sitting in the middle of his and Clark’s bed. He turned the page on the baby names book he was holding, scanning the names listed under ‘C,’ because for some reason he really wanted their new baby to have a name that started with ‘C.’ He also thought double alliterations with names were adorable.
Sometimes, he liked to lift his shirt up, and let the fabric scrunch up at the top of his belly, and stroke the taut, firm skin, which had been itching lately. He looked it up and it was because his skin was stretching so much so fast with how quickly the baby was growing. He had been uncomfortable for a while, but just a few more pages and he was going to buy something from Amazon.
Clark entered the room quietly, and put something on the bedside, then interrupted Bruce’s reading by sitting behind him, and carefully positioning Bruce in between his legs.
“Clark. What are you doing?”
Clark opened a tub of sweet smelling, good enough to eat cream, put a generous amount onto his hands, and slathered it all over Bruce’s belly. He lightly rubbed and let Bruce’s skin absorb the cream.
“Oh, that feels good,” Bruce leaned back on Clark’s chest, and rested his head on Clark’s shoulder.
“Thought you might like some belly butter,” Clark smiled, loving every moment of relief Bruce was showing.
“I love it,” hummed Bruce as he put the book down. He closed his eyes and relaxed into Clark’s arms. “I love you. You’re good to me,”
Clark traced the dark, vertical line in the middle of Bruce’s belly, then went back to spreading a bit more of the cream.
“It’s ugly, I know,” said Bruce quietly.
“Huh?” said Clark, stopping with genuine confusion.
“The linea nigra, the stretch marks,”
“Oh,” said Clark softly. Honestly, the dark line wasn’t really that dark, and the stretch marks weren’t that bad. “I think it’s beautiful,” he said sincerely as he resumed the light massage. “It is the proof of life, a little someone who is part of you, and part of me,”
“Stop that,” Bruce said with a little frown. “You know how easy you turn me on and how much I gush, and it’s going to ruin the sheets again and I don’t think Alfred likes that his 1020 thread count Egyptian linens are being soiled every night,”
“We should get cheaper sheets then,” Clark continued giving Bruce gentle rubs even if the cream had already been absorbed. “And we should probably maximize the bathroom now, since it’s the easiest place to clean, now that you admitted just how much of a squirter you are,” he licked Bruce’s earlobe, and his hands slowly snaked down Bruce’s beautiful hips.
“Now,” Bruce sounded a little pained as he shut his legs together. “Get me to the bathroom now or I’ll wet the bed,”
Clark shifted Bruce into a bridal fashion he floated to the bathroom, and didn’t waste any time in kissing and lightly biting the skin on Bruce’s shoulder and neck. He set Bruce down in front of the counter that was attached to a wall with a huge mirror, then locked the door.
“God forbid you fuck twins into me,” Bruce cupped the underside of his belly. “It’s like there’s a sixteen pound bowling ball in there—hnnhhng!” he gasped, holding tightly onto the lime countertop as Clark started rubbing him through the wet underwear.
Clark pressed a light hand on Bruce’s belly. “Now that you mentioned it,” he pulled the underwear down. Oh, how beautiful Bruce would look heavy with children.
“Don’t you dare—” Bruce wheezed when Clark pressed fingers into his sopping wet cunt. “D-don’t curl it, I won’t be able to hold myself up!”
“I’ll hold you up,” Clark withdrew his fingers from the wet cavern, got down on his knees, with his hands gave Bruce’s thighs some support, and ate him out.
Bruce let out a sound that was between a gasp and a choke. “Fuck!” he growled. Since he got pregnant it never really took long before he could orgasm, it wasn’t a surprise when the air was knocked out of him, his leaking, twitching cock spurted onto the cupboard under the counter, and when his knees gave out, his nether lips pressing onto Clark’s. And then there was a big splash, as if someone had tipped over a pitcher of water onto the tiles under them. He didn’t even have time to tell Clark he was coming.
His husband didn’t really need air, so Clark continued lapping him up, his inhumanly hot tongue licking every outer crevice of him so sinfully, Bruce swore he wasn’t going to stop coming if Clark didn’t pull away either.
“Stop!” the omega heaved, and Clark caught him just as he let go of the counter. He laid in Clark’s arms, both of them on the floor, breathless, then started laughing, his belly moving with together with this laughter. “Oh my god,” he said in between the laughs, “It’s like someone threw a bucket of water onto you,”
Clark chuckled. “Further into your third trimester, I think I’m just thankful that was an orgasm, and not your water breaking. I'm too afraid of you prematurely giving birth,”
“Well, I for one, do not want my water breaking in the middle of sex,” said Bruce. “Fuck me in the tub?”
“Thought you’d never ask,”