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He had been thinking about it.
Of course, he had; it was impossible not to.
It was filthy. It was hot. It was uncomfortable. It was revealing. But most importantly, it was intoxicating.
The first time he thought about it, he tried to dismiss it as a result of being stressed or under pressure from his work. However, the second he tried to will the thought away, it only grew with every time he pushed it lower.
It was like a horrible explosion that he was trying to nail down with steel plates. The enforcement of the idea only led to it spiraling more and more. No matter how he tried to guard it, he knew very subconsciously that his repeated affirmations against it were only so he could think about it more.
Simply, he wanted to fuck his friend.
Also, his colleague, of sorts.
But mainly, as Clark put it, his friend.
But it wasn’t that simple.
It was deeper.
Like their friendship.
But Bruce didn’t want to believe it.
Their friendship was something Bruce often debated when trying to suppress his urges. Sometimes, he felt like Clark wasn’t his friend. After all, they only saw each other every once in a while during Bruce’s patrols. Clark was fortunate to have a city whose criminals, also mainly un-human, operated mostly by daylight. Bruce worked night shifts in his city, full of humans filled with such malicious intent that they could only work by night.
But they always still saw each other in the in-between.
The schedule was perfect, but Bruce knew, against his agonizing fantasies, that Clark had better things to do than visit him after a long day of work.
Because once… or maybe three to four times a week. Clark would come to Gotham with his tight and pressed work clothes on to maintain images, and meet Bruce outside his cave's entrance with a smile.
The care and attention behind the action made Bruce’s chest feel tight.
Clark always brought Bruce food from his city. It was nearly always cold because Clark always underestimated the time Bruce would return home. So over the course of, maybe a year, the food became food enjoyed best lukewarm or just by the handful.
Before these visits, Bruce would always just enter his space, undress, review his footage, and collapse, maybe upstairs or maybe in his chair until eleven.
But when he nearly crashed his car when he saw Clark outside his entrance for the first time, looking guilty as the pizza in his hand went colder and colder…
Bruce tried to stay up later just to savor the moment… and also the time with the man he felt was his friend.
Friends cared deeply about one another.
Bruce affirmed his friendship with Clark in those moments, but justifying his own care for Clark on a deep… deeper level.
Or maybe care wasn’t the right word.
But the right word came with the atom bomb that Bruce was trying to cover with millions of pounds of sand.
He liked to dub the thought the name of a bomb because it went off first silently. Started, or set off, by something that should have been minor but sent him into a sensation he hadn’t wanted to ever experience again.
It had gone like this…
Three months after Clark had regularly been bringing food and good conversation to Bruce’s after hours, Clark touched Bruce.
It wasn’t a touch that was inherently sexual or affectionate in Bruce’s eyes. But it left him dazed and confused after his stomach had gone hard and his pulse had shifted over one hundred.
He had been falling asleep.
He usually was during their meetings, but not this much. Usually, he was aware he was falling asleep, and he usually could hold his head up, but that night was different.
It turned out his tiredness was actually his body shutting down from lack of sleep. He had forgotten that he had not slept for thirty hours before their meeting, as he had an intense game of detective with Gordon, which lasted for far too long. Clark had soothed his exhaustion long enough for him to realize he was falling asleep watching his friend smile and pick berries out of the supermarket cut fruit he had brought them.
By the time he felt his body pulling forward, though, he tried to fight it, out of a dreadful sense of embarrassment that came across him as he suddenly, and irrationally, feared judgment from collapsing from exhaustion.
That was when Clark touched him.
As his body shut down, it slumped forward and slightly to the side, and his head fell like a child’s. He prayed as he fell slowly to the sound of Clark’s voice, which was so deep and so so powerful in its purpose and truth behind every word, that he would die when he hit the floor.
But then he felt his entire body go light, but secured as Clark snapped forward and scooped him into his lap, on his own chair, and pressed his face into his neck so he could fall asleep.
What he said next…
With that beautiful voice…
And mouth-watering cologne with Bruce’s eye makeup leaking onto his neck…
“I got you, Bruce. You can go to sleep… I got you. I’ve always got you.”
It made him first fall asleep.
As suddenly it seemed the only right thing in the world to do, as Clark had told him to.
But…
It also made him shudder….
With Clark’s arms wrapped around his back and left shoulder, which was sore from a punch he took, and his right hand crossed over Bruce’s legs, resting just above his add in his lower back dip.
The grip was soft and assuring to his needs and his fading consciousness…
The soft comfort and warmth of his voice, accompanied by the hymn of his heart that was beating in Bruce’s ear like a lifeline…
It made Bruce crave.
It made him desire.
It made him hot in his pants and stiffened in his bed, where he awoke the next day with a note from Clark.
‘If you need to sleep, I’ll be here just to sleep if that’s what you need.’
It made Bruce purse his lips.
And fight down an obscene noise that he couldn’t be making now that he was thirty.
Need.
What did he need?
He didn’t need Clark.
He wanted him.
Which was worse than needing him.
Because wanting got him nowhere.
He wanted a lot of things.
He wanted to have no crime in Gotham. He did not want to be Bruce Wayne with the strings attached. He wanted to lead a normal life. He wanted not to get kicked, or shot, or stabbed, or terrorized on his limited nights on earth. He wanted peace. He wanted to protect people who would one day never need him again.
He wanted Clark.
Bruce wanted him even more, as in the following week, the touches came more frequently. From brushing his shoulders as the other passed him in the cave, squeezing them in the slightest way. To his hands somehow snaking into Bruce's as he leaned over him to guide his mouse across the screen that Bruce himself had designed. Finishing every night with something more powerful than those strong hands and thick arms that wrapped around Bruce's body and head...
Clark's eyes.
Every night, the most unreadable stare met Bruce as Clark looked him over before leaving the cave. The way his eyebrows pinched and his eyes narrowed, but only with a hint of a smirk.
Bruce felt awkwardness stick in his throat like a candy when Clark looked him over like that. It made him want to almost hide himself. He felt like Clark, although he knew better, was looking into his chest and counting the speed of his heartbeats and the tightness of his every breath. Clark always held his hand in his pocket during this last look before the sun broke through.
Bruce wanted Clark to hold him.
Just before he left him for another day...
He wanted so much to happen in those silent moments before goodbye.
He wanted to sleep with Clark. He wanted to wake up from their conversations where they discussed everything from current affairs, to journalism, to cooperate monopoly, to dogs, to music, to food, to each other, and then keep talking more. He wanted to see him during the day. He wanted to go out to dinner with hot food with him.
He wanted to kiss him.
He wanted him to hold him like he did that night.
He wanted Clark to fuck him.
Even though he hasn’t been with another person in eight years.
He felt practically inexperienced as his fantasies spiraled out of control.
Thinking to himself in the silence of his dark room during the day, clenching his sheets and trying not to masturbate at the thought of it…
Clark would fuck him good…
Slowly and gently, like his hands were when they held the small of his back and supported his whole weight like nothing. With passion and careful touches that could make him cry and whimper when they were not continued or affirmed with kisses.
He wanted to wake up from those nights…
And see Clark next to him in bed sleeping as peacefully as he did.
Those thoughts.
They were debilitating.
Bruce could not want Clark.
Clark was wanted already.
By his life.
His job, his hero name, his friends, his family, his…
His everything that Bruce could not interfere with.
The only thing wanting something that Bruce knew he couldn’t have would get him was anguish.
So he tried to push it down.
But once again, under pressure, the explosion only grew with the desperation and growing love that Bruce threw on the fire.
Which was why the reinforcements finally blew.
It happened like this.
Bruce arrived home early.
It was a shock to him as well.
The night was cool in Gotham, and the city was preparing for the beginning of fall and also for the Halloween spooks. Children, however, had little concern over such matters as they cut out leaves and apples to hang and the city school, which Bruce observed with fondness. Those drawings had followed him throughout a shockingly peaceful patrol across the city section that was typically active. Bruce almost found it odd when he could not pick up any new reports of crime on his shift.
His signal even went off around one in the morning, and Gordon explained at the building that the evening was so quiet that he might as well hang up the cape. Bruce gave a small huff at the notion, but drove home silently as thoughts of what he might do with himself with his early arrival.
Part of his stomach curled at the thought that Clark might have come to see him…
He tried to shake off the thought as usual.
But his brain was so alive and so much harder to turn down.
The thought of Clark greeting him at the door, smiling at his smudged eye when he took off his gear, looking him up and down as they ate, and continuing to speak in his incandescent voice…
Bruce closed his eyes and allowed, just a moment, of pleasure to cascade over his crotch as he clenched his steering wheel and relished in the heat of his fantasies. Sweat beaded on his forehead as his mouth seemed to open at the thoughts flooding his mind. He grew harder and harder as the places he imagined Clark’s hands on him grew more real and vivid as the bomb threatened to blow over in his own fucking car…
But then his headlights caught Clark standing in front of the cave's entrance, and he really did crash into the side of it.
The whiplash sent his head forward, and all the blood from his lust disappeared, and embarrassment and fight or flight took over as he tried to spring out of his car foolishly to run to a nearby cliff and kill himself…
But good, sweet Clark had already met him with a hand on his sweaty face when his car's back wheels had come back down on the ground.
“Bruce! Are you okay?”
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Bruce, you just crashed into the side. Did something happen?” Clark asked in a skippy, nervous tone that made his voice high and rough at the same time. “I know it’s not a usual time for you to be driving, but-“
“Fine. I’m fine.” Bruce ground out like a punch of words he could muster up. Turning his face away from the warm, soft calluses on Clark’s hands that slipped over his cheekbones like a tracing blond man. “Meet me inside.”
Clark called something out as Bruce reversed and shot his car inside at the max speed before the explosion. Bruce couldn’t hear in between letting out a roar of frustration and grasping at his forehead for hair to pull. When his car was parked and he threw himself out of the car and stomped to his desk, he first checked to see if Clark had seen him rage.
He had not.
Because he had left.
It sucked any emotion that was happy from Bruce like a drain.
He at first tried to rationalize that Clark would be back momentarily, because they were friends. But Bruce was feeling cynical and humiliated as he yanked off his mask and threw it across the cave without a care for where it went. He tore off his armor and threw himself into a chair, as his exhaustion was not there to regulate his humiliation and self-hatred.
Crashed his car fantasizing about his friend, pushed his friend away, and threw a tantrum like a two-year-old…
He was suddenly broken by anger and filled with shame at his actions.
How could he not push this away?
Why was it so hard?
Who cared if Clark was affectionate to him?
They weren’t together.
Clark didn’t want them to be.
Clark didn’t want him.
The thought made his chest squeeze, but he affirmed it over and over as he tried to steady himself and push down the damage once again. Yanking off his undershirt and starting to squeeze out his contacts with great annoyance… until he felt a soft and deliberate squeeze on his shoulder.
The turn around he made to face his companion was awkward and made his breathing stop.
Clark didn’t seem to notice as he smiled and scrunched his blue eyes, and held up a bag of fried chicken and all that came with it.
“You like chicken, right?” He asked, opening his eyes wide as he scanned Bruce’s face for the answer before the man gave it.
All Bruce could do was stare.
“You… didn’t… go home?” He forced out, trying to keep his tone even but sounding even more petrified and insecure.
“Home? What? No! You’re finally home early, so I got some better food to celebrate!” Clark affirmed as he raised the bag again and shook it slightly. “I wouldn’t go home without telling you. Plus, what if you had a hemorrhage from your crash?”
“It wasn’t a crash.” Bruce said, finding a calm voice after Clark’s reassurance. It made him squirm slightly, the way the man could calm him in an instant. “I didn’t expect you.”
“Expect me all the time, I like coming here.”
“You work early.”
“I work when there’s a problem. And no one in my city is a morning person.” Clark said with a laugh as he passed a fork to rest next to Bruce’s mouse, as the other man tried to seem relaxed as he clicked through his recordings. “Anything to really look for in footage?”
Bruce swallowed. “No, probably not.”
“Did you get hurt at all today?”
“… No. Did you?”
“No, nothing major.”
“Did you have a lot to do today?”
“Hmmm, I helped a few people with some normal things… it was a pretty quiet day.”
“In a hospital, you’re never supposed to say it’s quiet.”
“Do you like medical shows? I don’t love them personally.”
“They’re not bad.”
“Did you watch that new one?”
“The new new one?”
“Yeah,” Clark said as he took a bite of a leg, chewing and revealing his jaw, light and flushed cheeks to Bruce’s heart's delight.
“I’ll watch it on my next flight, maybe…”
“I think you’ll like it. They have a character like you.”
“Don't you have work in a bit?” Bruce tried to deflect.
“I go in at ten usually.”
“Aren’t journalists supposed to get an early start?”
“Good ones. I only really interview myself and try to make the third page.”
“You made it first a few weeks ago.”
“That was because I provided a great answer to write about.”
“It was good.”
“You like my writing?”
It wasn’t perfect grammatically as Bruce had been taught, but it still made a good point across the subject material. “Yeah. It’s concise.”
Clark gave a soft laugh as Bruce looked down and tried to hide his eyes from Clark’s. “That’s a compliment.”
“I mean it…”
“No, thank you, it is a nice thing to say.” Clark said with another smile and a pat to Bruce’s shoulder. The hot touch of his finger tips on his skin made Bruce nearly jump to his feet, as he became aware that he was still shirtless and sitting around like a freak in front of his friend.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you were coming back-“
“Did you get hurt tonight?” Clark asked as he also stood to place his fingers, again very soft fingers, on Bruce’s shoulder to tip it forward the slightest bit to observe the man’s back. “This bruise looks really painful, Bruce…”
“It’s fine, I got that a night ago, I think.” Bruce murmured as the heat of Clark’s gaze made him pray his skin wasn’t flushing as he felt the man's eyes trailing over his scarred and littered back. He felt exposed in the way that his feelings could be read or revealed, not in fear or violation.
“You think?”
“Yeah, or maybe last night, or morning, I suppose.”
“You need to keep track of your injuries. You need time to heal them if they keep stacking up like this.” Clark hummed as his fingers trailed away from Bruce’s shoulder, which made him wince as they connected with the skin between his shoulder blades.
Tracing tantalizingly arose the scars that had been left from stabs to the back. Marking them with Bruce’s following blush as he seemed to measure the ridges they created and build on his muscular skin.
Bruce was trying not to moan as he felt each of his back hairs stand up with goosebumps and flush.
Did he know what he was doing to him?
Or was the concept of sweet torturing lust unfamiliar to him?
Bruce wanted to believe he was deliberately teasing him. That he wanted to pin him down and hold his entire body like a lover and make Bruce feel the strong hold he had denied himself so long…
But he pushed the idea off as Clark being friendly and simply concerned.
He was his friend, and wishful thinking got him nowhere.
That was until Clark pressed his thumb into a knot lower in Bruce’s back with his right hand, finding purchase in Bruce’s waist to grip him when Bruce shot forward and away from the hot touch.
“Hold on… hold on… let me do this for you…” Clark whispered as his left arm seemingly sneaked across Bruce’s collar bones to hold his shoulders almost still and against Clark’s chest. He was trapped with the anchoring hands of his best friend as they began to move softly against the cramps in his lower back.
The sensation of pain and relief at their release was like drugs to Bruce as his heart hammered over and over again that Clark was his relief and service provider.
He was so carted up with his fingers as he kneaded Bruce’s skin like soft dough, and he soothed the muscles by rubbing his thumb up and down after the knot wore out…
His breath was hot and heavy next to Bruce’s neck. He smelt so good, and the press of his muscular arms on Bruce’s body was intoxicating as he held him steady and searched for more and more tight spots, mapping Bruce’s bruised and battered back.
It made him bite his lip as he tried not to tilt his head back in complete surrender to pleasure. He tried to pull away and not rest back on Clark’s strong and centering chest. He tried not to let his head rest in Clark’s neck again like he had the first time that Clark had held him like they had been together for years and years…
But when Clark came so close to his ear and softly cupped his upper ass with his large hands after every knot had been removed…
“Feel better?”
Bruce’s attempted grunt of yes mixed with the incentive for Clark to let him go came out as the softest broken whimper he had ever known.
The sound seems to echo as even the damned bats in the cave seemed to be captivated by the terrible scene below them.
Bruce was as hard as a rock in his sweatpants. Standing straight up as his abdomen seemed cramped with the hope and prayer of release by Clark’s thick hands. The sensation was hazing and made him feel lightheaded as suddenly everything in his body seemed too tight and too alone and without touch.
He could barely breathe as the horror at his sound set in, and he saw with his desires a hundred lonely nights before him without Clark by his side, even as a friend…
But he stood like a deer in headlights when Clark squeezed his body once more and backed off.
This was it.
He was leaving.
Bruce had blown it.
The atom bomb hadn’t even gone off.
Everything just died anyway.
Because Clark was going to leave and never return.
Bruce felt the pit in his stomach clench now with despair at the thought as he tried to turn and face Clark like a man and lie and say he didn’t feel anything or was just caught in the moment.
But the second his gaze met Clark’s with watering and desperate eyes, Clark’s warm blue eyes held no regard for disgust or hate for the man. Only a soft, unreadable expression that Bruce could not pinpoint in his panic.
The only thing that Clark said as he slid his hands into his tan work pants and shifted to adjust his white collar shirt was…
“Do you want to go to your room?”
Bruce’s brain stopped working, and his heart had a palpitation at the question.
He felt his body put up a wall instantly.
“Why?”
Clark smiled at his reserve.
“I don’t know, why shouldn’t we? It’s early and I’d like to hang out with you outside your… work.”
Bruce forced himself to raise an eyebrow and turn away to hide his crotch.
Clark tilted his head to the side with a small smile as he observed Bruce’s movements. There was no judgment in his eyes, only quiet patience to hear what Bruce would be willing to get.
The quiet care broke Bruce’s exterior as the words spilled from his mouth like someone pulled them out.
“I’ve never had anyone in my room.”
Clark looked slightly surprised.
“Never?”
“Not… for years.”
“Not even… in school?”
There was a metaphor forming that Bruce tried not to read into as he clenched his fist and twisted his arm over his chest slightly to shift his unwavering cock.
He couldn’t hope.
He couldn’t do it.
“A couple times then, but, um, no, I haven’t. Not since school.” The awkwardness of his wording made him cringe as his eyes began to sweep the room, desperate for a shirt that was long enough to cover his hips. The heat and marks on his back remained as his body flew through everything they had done to try and make him hope. “But if you’d like to come up… we can have a… drink.”
Clark re-centered his head and laughed, and Bruce’s throat clenched when he saw the shine of his teeth. “You know I can’t get drunk.”
“I wasn’t trying to get you drunk.”
“I know, I know, just kidding.”
Bruce huffed out a small, tight laugh at Clark’s smile at his teasing.
It felt hard to laugh, because his cock was restless and his skin was still on fire from the other's touch. But once again, Clark’s soft assurance showed through Bruce’s doubts about their relationship.
Bruce tried to steady himself as the pair traveled up towards Bruce’s room. Counting his breaths as he tried to assure himself of a few things.
One, that Clark hadn’t noticed how he had moaned after the massage.
Two, that Clark was still his friend and did not care about half the things he worried about.
Three, that it was perfectly normal for him to have Clark in his room to relax, as they were grown men and he did not need to overcompensate.
Fourth, his room was impeccable and clean.
And five, that he needed to put out the fire spreading through his head, that Clark’s actions were actually an advance.
His brain screamed against multiple possibilities that Clark might have been coming onto him with his repeated touches and firm holds. Clark’s attention and care for him shown through food, time spent, and even help during very dangerous patrols actually was done out of more than friendship.
Maybe Clark liked Bruce more than that…
Maybe Clark also wanted Bruce…
No!
Bruce wanted Clark to like him.
He closed his eyes and then cursed himself again as he realized he still was not wearing a shirt even as he left the way into his bedroom. The air felt freeing on his skin, and a lewd part of him almost wanted to remain shirtless so Clark’s eyes would fit over his body and let him hope.
The thought made his cock stand strong again, so when Bruce pushed open his bedroom door, he made for his bureau. Hoping that Alfred had left a normal, casual, but also well-framed t-shirt, Clark interrupted his search.
“You don’t have to put a shirt on.”
Bruce looked up in shock and tried to formulate a sentence, but found himself coming short.
Clark still had his hands in his pockets. It was incredibly attractive as his eyes once again began to trail over Bruce’s chest as it rose and fell far too fast to appear calm.
“Sorry?”
“You don’t have to put a shirt on, I don’t mind at all.”
“You’re a guest in my house, why shouldn’t I?”
“Well, maybe because I like seeing you without a shirt on.” Clark replied. Smooth as ever, with that effortless charm that earned him trust and regard just from observation alone.
The frankness made Bruce’s throat constrict as that ever so painfully good sensation of a throbbing pleasure took hold of his stomach. It burned from his abdomen down, and his cock pushed painfully against the fabric of his underwear like a plea. Biting his tongue, he tried to steady his breathing and his heart rate.
He was Batman.
He could fight for hours on end and be shot, stabbed, tricked, and wounded, but he couldn’t control his feelings for a single man.
A man who was beyond a man.
A man who was so perfectly wonderful in every way.
A man who shone in the world like an inkling of hope to live by.
A man who would do anything for anyone, despite never knowing them.
A man whom Bruce realized, no matter what, would do anything for him.
As he would do anything for him as well.
It made his chest feel tight and also warm as the pair searched each other's eyes for the next step after Clark’s comment. Clark seemed grounded in his resolve and continued to look into Bruce’s stained eyes with that look of unconditional appreciation as well as attention. Bruce couldn’t tell what his own expression was, but he felt it revealing as his face burned and his mouth was agape.
Clark raised his eyebrows, and his smile turned into the slightest grin as he broke their stare and began to look around Bruce’s room.
The man felt as though Clark was giving him the floor to make a move.
And although every doubting part of his body told him to stop dreaming and back away from getting hurt by something that would never work out…
Bruce took a step forward toward the bed in the center of his room and tried to find some relaxation at the end of the blankets.
Clark turned back to Bruce after his survey of the room and smiled at the invitation.
Crossing over to the bed slowly, but fast enough for Bruce’s tongue to feel heavy as his friend joined him at the end of the bed.
And fell backwards.
“Your bed is so soft! Do you not sleep on a firm mattress?”
It was a very stimulating comment.
Bruce wondered for a second if Clark was nervous.
“I don’t like hard mattresses. I have to sleep on them when I travel, and it kills my back.”
“You know, in Asia, they usually only sleep on wooden boards.”
“I haven’t had that happen to me. I wouldn’t stay if I had to sleep on a board.”
“When was the last time you went to Asia?”
“Hmmm… maybe a year ago.”
“Where did you go?”
“Japan. I didn’t really do much; I was just there for appearances.”
“Did you do anything outside of dinner venues?”
“No.”
Clark laughed.
“You should have gone to the mountains. It would have been enriching.”
“Have you been?”
“I try to go everywhere. And yes, it’s beautiful. We could go sometime.”
“We could?” Bruce murmured as he let his eyes follow down the tightness of Clark’s bent legs, avoiding his crotch, and up his perfect chest.
Stopping just before his eyes because the embarrassment was setting in.
“Yeah. Apparently, no one recognizes you with eye makeup, and me with glasses. It could be a fun trip.”
“Hmm.” Bruce hummed as he turned his face away, as the sentiment gave him a new set of delusions.
“Bruce.” Clark said with a slight tease in his tone. “Do you want to go?”
“Sure…” Bruce murmured softly as he brought his hand up to cover his face.
“Bruce…”
“Yeah…?”
“Are you tired?”
Always.
“Not… really.”
“Do you want to lie down?”
Bruce did want to lie down.
But he didn’t.
Clark took this with a quirk of his lip as he shifted himself to rest on his hand as his arm flexing on the soft bedding. The shift in his position made Bruce look back, and the view was even more sinful. His veins poked from his forearms as they held the weight of his perfect head.
Clark’s hair was messy and slightly aloft from the travel to the store. Bruce thought of the fried chicken he had bought himself, left sitting on his desk after Clark had taken the trouble to fly all the way back out to the city to buy him food. He suddenly thought as his eyes traced over every flopping curl on Clark's head that he truly hadn't thanked his friend for all he had done for him. It hadn't been something Bruce had asked for. Everything Clark did accommodated to him and his messy sleep schedule and improper execution of justice. Bruce felt suddenly, as he sank lower and lower into his soft and custom-made bed, that he hadn't once even considered buying Clark anything.
The thought of not giving back to Clark was more gutting than any infatuation he had.
Because how could he if he didn't even provide for him?
"Bruce?"
"You do a lot for me." Bruce said, though it sounded harsher than apperceptive and apologetic.
Bruce hated the sound of his voice.
Clark's eyes narrowed slightly at the sudden shift. But his smile remained as he seemed to sense Bruce's regrets. "Yeah, I like to do a lot for you."
Bruce swallowed at the words. "I don't do anything for you."
"That's not true."
"Clark, you should be asleep, you should be lying down, you have a job."
"I want to lie down. And I want you to lie down with me." Clark responded, instantly flowing to finish Bruce's sentences with ease. "Can you lie down? Your bed is comfortable."
God, it is.
Bruce knew because he spent all day in his bed. All day thinking of what it might be like to have Clark in it as well.
Why did he deny himself so?
Bruce let his hand squeeze the soft sheet before forcing himself to breathe as he turned his eyes away from Clark and lowered himself to bed. Admittedly, he looked like a corpse as he lay with his knees bent over the side of the bed and his arms snapped tight by his side.
His tension made Clark laugh gently, but not with judgment.
Within the second that Bruce rested his body back, though, Clark met him already with that exhilarated but conflicting touch. His hand sneaking around Bruce's bare arm like an automatic. It made Bruce freeze at the sensation of a warm palm cupping his arm. With Clark's god forsaken thumb tracing his muscles and rubbing his hair up and down.
The sensation was enough to make Bruce shiver with the warmth as he found himself unable to keep his eyes open, as the pleasure of warmth once again spread over his bare chest. Trickling down into his abdomen as his poor cock began to whine for purchase or release again. All senses in his brain fought against the pleasure, trying to reanchor Bruce to the thanks he was trying to give to Clark when the man could seemingly not stop making Bruce feel.
"I don't... do anything for you... Clark..." Bruce hissed as he felt the bed dip and his stomach swoop and his cock twitch.
Clark's figure had changed position to rest fully next to Bruce as he resumed his propped elbow and let his wandering hand trace Bruce's chest like a sculptor. It made Bruce's stomach clench as he tried not to shift into the warmth of his finger tracing from his bicep to his lower chest with a slight tease. Wandering like a pair of legs to meet his sternum and slipped to his collar bones and rest around his Adam's apple, which trembled under their soft touch that he could not decipher in his panicked and desperate state.
"But you would."
I would.
I would.
"You don't do anything for yourself, though, Bruce." Clark whispered. His voice was low and husky, like it had been the night he had first held him. It made Bruce fight a hum as those fingers began to trace around his jawline despite the offense of the statement.
"Clark." He stated, trying to defend himself but finding his words unfocused as he realized how his body had begun to press into Clark's fingers as they took hold of the roots of his black hair. Gently massaging his scalp as they traveled from his cheekbone to his undereyes.
Staining their tanned surfaces with black eyeshadow...
"You don't, Bruce. You think what I'm doing when I come to see you is a lot. It's not." Clark hushed as his eyes went more and more glazed, as his forehead brushed Bruce's eyebrows.
"You have no idea how much more I want to do for you..."
This made Bruce's eyes fly open as Clark's hand fully rested to cup his face.
His jaw was locked open as he tried to speak, but was rendered dumb by Clark.
The view was dreamlike.
Clark's leg had begun to curl over Bruce's bent one like an encroaching beast. His knee was inches away from the weeping head of Bruce's cock, just about to brush his opposite hip bone. His beautiful eyes seemed to have tracked over everything on Bruce's body before they found purchase in his face. Bruce felt his stomach was red and the hair leading to his crotch stood with goosebumps and tension from his erection. His nipples were perked, and even his chest was red, and most pink in the lines that Clark's fingers left over his body.
He knew how he looked, and the shame overwhelmed him until he snapped his eyes to try and plead with Clark.
In Clark's eyes, he found something he only saw in his fantasies...
Lust.
Hunger.
And care.
Bruce for one instant.
Dared to dream.
"... What else do you want to do?"
It came out like a plea.
Clark's eyes narrowed as his jaw worked in place at Bruce's question. They traced over every detail on Bruce's face before Bruce heard a slow crack as Clark lowered his neck and rested his forehead flush against his.
"I'd like to make love to you."
There was a hint of begging in his wish.
Bruce's heart couldn't take it.
The moan that broke from his throat as everything he had ever desired came flooding through like a tsunami.
The steel plates blew off.
The atom bomb blew.
The mushroom cloud echoed throughout his heart, head, and body.
The sound rang through his body like a cloth being squeezed of water. It freed him of all his tension as his body finally came free from its own shackles. It made his knees go loose as he let himself buck up into the air in pure desperation.
Clark met him the second the sound gave its first echo across the room.
Pressing his lips over Bruce's and slotting their tongues together in a collision that knocked another unresisted moan from Bruce's body.
Clark kissed him ferociously but carefully as his legs swung over Bruce's waist and he pulled his partner fully onto his soft, sinking bed. He ran his lower lip between his two and began to suck ever so gently. As he shifted from side to side... lip to lip... cheek to cheek as Bruce just moaned. The taste of their spit mixing made a filthy thought manifest in Bruce's head. The squeeze at his waist became stronger, and his hands shot up to grasp hold of Clark's shoulders. They were firm and flexing over and over again as Clark ran his hands through Bruce's hair and under his eyes.
Bruce thought between his throbbing cock, bursting heart, and messy tongue that Clark might like his makeup.
The thought struck him dumb with even more moans as Clark broke the kiss from Bruce's mouth to fully attack his face.
He kissed the corners of his mouth and up and down his right cheek, and then into his left and across his nose. Each kiss became more and more sloppy as Bruce was washed seemingly with the praise of Clark Kent. It drove him wild with the notion as his hips continued to shamelessly cant and beg for orgasm as Clark painted his entire body over again with affection.
Those strong hands found hold on the back of his neck as he lifted Bruce's flopping neck to meet him in another locked and steady kiss that made Bruce whine at the tenderness.
Never had those noises left him.
Never for anyone.
Not even for himself on those few nights he caved and let himself come.
Clark brought out all of him in the safety he gave, like breathing.
"Bruce..."
Bruce could barely speak as kisses continued to dot his body. Shifting from his peppered and smudged face to his jawline, this time with even more force behind the lock on his skin. Particularly on the side of his sweating neck.
"Bruce..."
The bruises would be his proof for a week to come that Clark had wanted him.
"Bruce... how long?"
"When... when..."
"Tell me..."
"When you let me... sleep on you..."
Clark let the skin he had been working a thick hickey into fall from his mouth as he met Bruce's hazey eyes and held them steady with his perfect expression.
"Do you like it when I hold you?" Clark whispered against Bruce's neck. "Because I want to... I want to."
The meaning... It made Bruce start to shiver as the heat in his body reached a boiling point as Clark's hands slotted tight around his waist... and finally... finally... he settled his weighted... clothed, fat cock over Bruce's bursting cock.
The sensation made Bruce nearly heave as his body began to cant like an animal.
The pressure was perfect as his body cried out for release at the pleasure. The sensation was maddening as he tried again to move up, but found himself unable under the weight of Clark's body. His legs were locked to his stupid soft bed when suddenly the hands on his waist flew up to shift him and his partner up. Bruce's pillows sank down at the weight of his head as he turned his nose into them to hide his moans.
Clark's legs had spread his into a V with his thick and muscular thighs. The exposure of his spread legs made him shiver and try to conceal his erection. Once again, though, Clark met him in the middle as he trapped their cocks together and pushed down against Bruce's bucking as his lips attacked his neck again.
Black smudged the pillowcase. Spit as well as Bruce drooled at the burn and pulsing of Clark's heart against his. The feeling of his heartbeat tracing lower as Clark trailed to Bruce's collar bones, leaving nips and wet kisses over his skin. Every scar received attention as Bruce tried to hide the noises coming from his mouth. Never had another person drawn such noises from him, and he wanted to blame the dry spell, but he knew it would be the same if it were anyone else.
But it was Clark.
He was good.
Better than he had dreamed.
Because it was real.
His tongue dragging over his abs and over his chest was so real and hot. It was tantalizing as it traced and sucked over his nipples like he had done it a thousand times before. Maybe he had. In his dreams when Bruce also dreamed of such things. Had Clark thought about it? Thought about him? Thought and dreamed about him grinding his dick into his blanket after Clark brushed his hand that morning.
Bruce hoped he had.
It felt good to be wanted.
It felt good to be touched.
It felt good to have his dreams come true.
Clark knew how good he was and how good Bruce felt as he touched him. His skill at teasing grew stronger as he pressed his nail into the point of Bruce's hip as he continued to shift down Bruce's body. His chest was flushed against Bruce's cock, resting it between his pecs as the rest of his body held down his leg. Bruce forced himself to sit up and try to watch the scene unfold below him, and his head swayed side to side with the daze of his hard cock and bruised lips.
Clark continued to work kisses into his abs and into the hook of his hips. His fingers held the back of his body, digging so slightly into his ass. Bruce let out a moan as he fully started to understand how thick and big Clark's fingers were. How they would open him up and brush his deepest parts that hadn't been awakened in years...
Suddenly, the feeling of Clark's cock resting on his thigh caught up to him as he felt the heat, the length, and the girth of him. It made his jaw work back and forth as his own jumped in addiction at the thought of what was to come.
His partner sensed this anticipation and, in an instant, sprang forward to knock Bruce down onto his pillows again with another ferocious kiss. At first, in his overwhelming greed for Clark and desire, Bruce let a whine squeeze from his body at the return to his mouth.
The complaints were shortly lived as Clark seemed to give that smirk as his hands finally left Bruce's ass... and met the arching curve of his cock.
The first grip against cock sent Bruce into the stars.
His eyes rolled back as the shock of the pressure left his spine going slack, but his every muscle seized. Everything burned as his crotch pulsed, and he felt his underwear go wet as Clark's hand began to trace the length of his erection like it was a subject. His fingers were tracing the outline as his thumb found the head and began to circle it like the tease he was. Obscene noises spilled from Bruce as he felt his body rolling desperately into every stroke, but he felt unshamed to moan as his every sound was met with a strangled hum from Clark.
"Bruce..." Clark whispered as his pace halted, and Bruce let out a cry as his hips shook for purchase. "Bruce..."
And then he slipped his hand fully into both Bruce's pants and underwear.
Nothing compared to it.
The feeling of Clark's hot and strong hand gripping his hard cock. Dripping with pre as his hands immediately found purchase around the middle of Bruce's shaft as his thumb adores the head. Squeezing his cock in a way that made Bruce's hips fly off the bed with all his strength, and his hands shot to the side to grasp hold of his bedsheets.
Clark laughed in adoration as his wrist began to twist and flick at a deliberate pace.
Letting his lips leave Bruce's as his head fell to meet Bruce's fist in the white. Nudging his hand to release the sheets and find a home in his hair, which Bruce accepted with a choked scream. The echo of his pleasure crossed over the entire city as he felt his stomach tightening and his entire body coming to a peak.
He begged for his body to hold on a little longer as Clark's lips took his again and his other hand hitched his hips and spread his legs around Clark's thighs. Clawing at Clark's as he tried to squeeze his eyes shut to tune out the burn and sweet tightness in his body.
Words came to him in strings as Clark continued to stroke his entire length, circling his palm over his tip for only a moment to collect more pre and travel the sweet wetness down again.
"Clark..."
"Hmmm?"
"Clark... I..."
"Do you want to come?"
"N-No..." Bruce begged as his cock twitched and throbbed in Clark's hand.
"You don't want to come?" Clark whispered as he pressed his thumb into his balls, which made Bruce scream and nearly white out. "You can... I want you to."
"N-No... I want..." Bruce tried desperately. The pressure in his stomach seemed to choke him silent. It burned like a spreading fire across his body as the tingle in his cock grew more and more intense with every stroke...
"Want me to stop?"
"No!" He yelled.
Clark smiled and kissed him again with a particularly good twist around his shaft.
The final steps up the mountain almost came.
Clark faltered just before the surfacing came.
"Then what do you want, baby?" He said, his tone revealing his desperation in the cant of his own hips against Bruce's thigh. He seemed unashamed, though, as his eyes found Bruce's.
Although Bruce's jaw was locked in the motion of his previous shout, after the slowing of his pleasure came to a sense of desperation. Need and ravage took over his mind as his cock seared with agony and his body felt so empty of Clark.
"Fuck... me..." He spat out with great difficulty.
"Fuck you?"
"Yes!" He begged. No intensity or conviction in his plea, just pure wreck and pleasure. His cock jumped in Clark's hand, which made the others' eyes crinkle as he kissed Bruce again.
"Okay... but I'm gonna go slow." Clark said with assurance in his tone as Bruce's breath picked up at his acceptance.
"Why...?" Bruce gasped as Clark's hand trailed down his cock.
"Because you're so beautiful." And then the hand on his cock left and slipped between his tightened thighs. Clark then, without breaking eye contact with Bruce's lidded eyes, reached for his shirt's buttons.
Each one he popped open with methodical care and significance as he held Bruce's gaze without falter. Slipping off his shirt and revealing the beater he was wearing underneath, along with his shocking muscles... Bruce's cock dripped as the beater came off, and Clark, just for show, stepped off the bed.
He centered himself as he let Bruce lift himself to get a better view of Clark's intermission. The clink of his belt made Bruce cross his leg over himself to provide himself with pleasure, which Clark noted by stepping close while pulling off his belt and pulling Bruce's leg back to its deemed place.
Slipping out of his work pants, and finally, his boxers... Bruce's fingernails ripped into the blanket.
Clark was born perfect by his heritage. Strong and sturdy to serve as well as provide for those he loved. His body told this story in the most arousing, wonderful way as Bruce took in every detail of his flawless skin and sculpted figure. His fat, long, and perking cock stood proud as a heated reminder of his desire and desire, it was as perfect and ideal as him in all his forms. From the tips of his fingers to the curve of his shoulders, to the creases of his abs and chest, Clark was there before him. The very image of inhuman perfection that Bruce could not believe wanted him.
Clark placed his arm on the bed, and it sank briefly before he pulled it up and crawled to meet beside Bruce's head. Both of them as he leaned his head down again to meet Bruce with a kiss. Bruce hoped he was a good kisser more than ever as Clark rubbed his tongue against his. The burn of Clark's cock on his stomach made him moan like a madman as he imagined the heat inside him...
He hoped he would not disappoint...
Spit connected their mouths when they were apart as Clark smiled and whispered...
"Lift your legs, baby."
Every part of Bruce's brain had to work for him to manage a deep breath, relax his thigh muscles, and let them fall open for his cock to spring to full height and his hole to be seen. Embarrassment caressed his entire body, and almost as soon as he had exposed himself, he tried to hide again. He felt inadequate and pathetic in his state, but the gentle hands that came to hold his thighs open made him freeze.
"So beautiful, Bruce." The other whispered as he settled between him.
His heart could barely take it.
He felt his chest tighten like an iron coil.
"From when I first saw you... That first time." Clark whispered as he stroked Bruce's waist. "I swear... I think I liked you before I even saw your face.
Bruce thought back on why he had allowed Clark to see him then.
He had dismissed it originally as a co-worker being honest with his co-worker.
But he knew, as he felt Clark's fingers threading his hair and holding him tight, that he did it because he wanted to be known by Clark.
Selfishly.
And ridiculously.
"I didn't think... I didn't think you felt that way..." Bruce whispered as his heart began to hammer uncontrollably and he felt his body tightening to hide from the emotion creeping over him.
"Bruce... what did you do to yourself to think that I didn’t?"
Bruce swallowed and tried to form an answer, but words failed him, and he felt so foolish for multiple reasons. Suddenly forgetting his hard cock and naked body.
"Bruce... you don't allow yourself anything. Do you know how much you deserve?"
"People... don't deserve people." Bruce tried to reason as a hand left his hair to join his cheek as he felt emotion licking his chest. An emotion more vulnerable than his like for Clark. More intense and more carnal, which he had concealed in the deepest core of his soul, that was the core of the bomb.
"No... but people need each other. You need people." Clark whispered as he kissed Bruce and erased all his fear of holding back. "And I'd like to be the person that you want to be with..."
It made Bruce squeak at the acceptance he had never had. His lip started to tremble at the reveal of the feeling he had begged himself never to address. He felt his arms springing up for purchase, and he felt them filled instantly by Clark as he settled his body fully over Bruce's in a covering hug.
Clark sensed all of these microemotions like he knew them for years...
Bruce felt the tears starting to explode from the corners of his eyes, no matter how he willed them to vanish.
He hadn't cried in so long.
How could he cry during sex?
How could he cry before sex?
Had he really lost it?
"Bruce..."
"I'm sorry..." Bruce gasped as his tears leaked from him like an after explosion. Nuclear waste was leaving his body like a volcano as sobs ripped through his body. As he found, despite it all, Clark only squeezed him tighter.
He released all pressure in his chest, much to his humiliation.
"Oh... God... I'm sorry..." He heaved as he tangled his fingers in Clark's curls. A deadly grip as he prayed it would not be the last time he would.
He loved those curls...
"Bruce... how long has it been?"
"... Years."
"How many years, baby?" Clark whispered as he rubbed the tears from Bruce's temples.
"Oh god... eight..." Bruce gasped with shame that was eased instantly by Clark's soft kisses and complete assurance. "Not since college..."
"Eight years?"
"I had to work... I had to..." He hiccuped as he felt his chest going lighter by the second that the idea that even with his sheets going black with his tears...
But.
Clark still held him.
Clark still liked him.
Clark still wanted him.
Clark still...
"I know... I know..." Clark hushed as he wrapped his arms around Bruce's neck and shoulders. Squeezing the air out of him and steadying his rapid breathing as it burst back and forth in his panic and exposure.
It was almost all too much for Bruce to handle. His body was so sweaty, and his hair was sticking to his tears as Clark kissed him and accepted his every broken out anguish as months... no... years of pressure and shame left him like a bird taking flight.
Bruce could not stop the explosion anymore as it tore down the city that he had built around himself...
"I love you..." Bruce gasped through his release.
The words made his heart hammer and his entire body begin to shake as his brain finally connected to his behavior and screeched to a halt.
Oh god.
His body froze at the realization of what he had just said.
What had he done? Why had he confessed to Clark's adoring eyes and strong resolve? Why did he allow for the shame he thought he had freed himself from to come to stab him in the chest?
He felt he had leaped over the step Clark had laid down. Clark had only said he liked him. And that he wanted to sleep with him.
He said nothing of love.
The shame and the fear paralyzed Bruce as his chest refused to take in air, and his heart beat so loud he could feel it press against his rib cage like a bat. How could he say such a thing? How could he say something like that when, the thought returned, he hadn't done anything to even show Clark that he loved him?
It was something he couldn't have even admitted to himself.
It was something he shouldn't have admitted to anyone.
The fear of Clark's withdrawal made Bruce's body lock up and his vision go blank as he tried to suffocate himself with the humiliation at his overstep.
A kiss to his temple brought him back to blinking.
Another kiss to his right temple let him draw breath again.
"Bruce?"
His voice was so deep and so sure.
"Bruce, breathe."
He did.
Clark commanded him to, so he did.
"Another one, baby."
He drew in air like it was his first time breathing.
His heart begged...
Clark was so warm...
The gentleness that radiated from Clark was like a salve. There was no hate in his eyes or disgust as Bruce cracked his eyes open and continued to breathe tightly. Searching for evidence and clues of hope that his heart begged to find in his exposure. He felt his eyebrows pinch upward and his eyes begin to go dry from his bout of release.
Clark hadn't said anything to shut him down...
Bruce felt his chest swell as Clark's thumbs continued to smudge his makeup clean from the stream.
The hair on his head was passed between his ring and his pinky as he wore the simplest smile of pure affection. Bruce took in all the details, for once not clouded by his own insecurity and rigid beliefs.
All the facts and beautiful things about Clark's face provided him with...
Bruce's breath hitched as his puzzle piece clicked.
The conclusion short-circuited him.
Clark noticed immediately as he sprang forward with another kiss to his center brow.
Bruce stopped breathing.
"Breathe, Bruce, I love you too."
The conclusion.
The red ties led to the center of the bulletin board that Bruce had almost torn down.
Words found him as his heart broke open and his brain begged for the affirmation.
"... You do?" He choked.
"Of course, Bruce. How could I not?" Clark whispered with the smallest and earnest laugh. "I love you."
"You do?"
"Yes, I do."
"Say it."
"I love you, Bruce." Clark said again. Annunciating every syllable and letting his tongue click against his teeth as the shortest and most relieved laugh broke from his lips. "I love you, Bruce. I love you. I love you..."
The rest was lost between kisses.
So many kisses that the last of Bruce's tears dried and then began again softly as he breathed through the husk of Clark's mouth on his. Everything felt overwhelming with the truth being revealed, but he felt like even if he fell apart from pure shock, it would never be received with malice. The feeling of Clark kissing him with all the love he, too, had been cautious to express in the fear that Bruce, Bruce, would not feel the same.
And as Clark began to bruise his lips with earnest and adoration with his hands mapping his body and his firm cock pressing into Bruce's, relighting the kindle, Bruce felt ridiculous.
Of course, Clark loved him. Like he had said, how could he not?
Unless he was the dimmest person to ever walk the earth, or perhaps the most toying and selfish person who delighted in the teasing of his friend, how could he not?
Bruce felt almost silly as his body began to return to a state of preexisting arousal as the reminder that Clark was still willing and hoping for more began to accumulate with the knowledge that...
Clark loved him.
"We don't have to have sex, Bruce," Clark whispered as he broke his lips just a fraction away from the others. "We can just have this."
"Do you..." A kiss interrupted him. "Want to?"
"Yes. But you were just crying a second ago."
"You're sweet."
"You don't usually talk like this."
Bruce cursed himself.
Clark sensed it instantly.
"I like it."
"I... I didn't want you to be put off."
"You never put me off for a second."
"I'm sorry for being so short, with the way I speak."
"You weren't short, you just say what you want to say."
"I wanted to say more."
"Say it now."
"I... I like being with you." Bruce whispered, his voice going soft and weak as his heart settled with a warm hum. He felt himself going red and feeling giddy as Clark began his mapping of his skin. It was another thing Bruce noticed with a flush of heat in his abdomen. "Do you like being with me?"
"I do."
"Do... you like the makeup?"
"I do. I like it a lot, actually."
Bruce let out a small laugh as he turned his face away in happiness.
"Don't turn, I want to see you."
"Why? Do you like to kiss me?"
"Yes, over and over."
"Clark?"
"Bruce?"
"I would."
"Me too."
"I love you."
"I love you too."
It was so easy.
As well as hot and sweet.
Bruce realized this with an added flow of pleasure as his cock began to fully harden again, and he felt his body being pulled up to the pillows again. The sensation of control from Clark's hunger and reverence towards him made him squeeze his thighs again. Clark smiled at the shyness as he let his chest fall against Bruce's, and his kisses began again.
Clark shifted his body between Bruce's legs and distracted Bruce from the embarrassment by sucking a deep hickey into Bruce's jawline. It made him moan out loud as he felt his pulse being captured by Clark's mouth like a bird. His arms finally released the bed sheets and found a lasting hold on Clark's back and shoulders. He tried not to cut his nails into Clark's back, but as the coursing spike of Clark's mouth and trailing hands down his chest, and then to his groin... he couldn't help it.
The moan Clark let out at their contact made Bruce's eyes go hazy as he felt Clark's hand grasp his cock.
Bruce had almost forgotten the sweet relief and torture Clark's hands offered him.
White hot and steady, Clark stroked him slowly, bringing him to a wetness with mere ease as his other hand reached for Bruce's nightstands and began to kiss Bruce's collarbone. The sound of pens and pill bottles rattling made Bruce smile as his body was served attention and love. Clark let out one huff of annoyance before he finally reached the small tube that Bruce kept in the back of his drawer. All other eyes would see it as hand cream, but the sticky residue on the tube told otherwise. It had been a good deal of time since Bruce had pulled it out, when he had caved and fallen apart in his sheets, thinking of Clark.
The shiver that took hold of him as Clark pulled back with his hands cupping Bruce's knees made him realize he would never spend a night alone again.
It was a wonderful feeling to discover.
Clark looked back at him with his breath coming out low and his cock standing, and seemed to make the same connection.
They held this understanding between them with great care before Clark smiled and Bruce felt himself unable to contain his.
"You have a beautiful smile."
"So do you."
Clark let his teeth break through as his face went red.
The cap of the tube screwed off with ease.
"Spread your legs again, baby."
Bruce did with a moan.
Clark once again covered Bruce with kisses as he held his body up and let his hand, covered in lube, travel down. He had taken careful care to rub the lube between his fingers before touching them to Bruce's hole, and Bruce sighed with anticipation. Clark took careful care of introducing himself with the slick, circling Bruce's hole and pressing it slightly as he rested his body slightly to the side of him so Bruce could breathe at the trille. And so he could see his face as he pushed his finger in for the first time.
The feeling was foreign.
It made Bruce slam his eyes shut as pressure touched his every cell.
Clark's single finger was warm, solid, slippery, and real as Clark turned Bruce's head to kiss him for the process. Their lips slotting together perfectly as Bruce began to hum as the finger seated deeper and deeper inside him, and then began to pump. Burning slightly as Bruce's cock twitched and begged for attention, and Clark ignored it for more kisses. When Bruce began to whine with familiarity, he was then greeted with the finger pulling out, and Clark's middle finger entered him after some wiggle.
This finger was colder and made Bruce buck as it settled into his warmth and then left to be accompanied. Clark, ever a gentleman, told Bruce silently what he was going to do by pressing the tips of his fingers against his hole before pushing softly but surely into him. Bruce gasped at the stretch and prayed for more like a deprived creature as the fingers filled him and took pleasure as Clark twisted his wrist for a better angle.
After a few pumps and a curl, Clark discovered the correct position as Bruce screamed.
The curl of Clark's fingers against his prostate left him hoarse from moaning and wet on the dip of his stomach. At the first touch of electrical spasm, Bruce's body nearly flew off the bed. It was startling to experience someone else's hand, and even more sickening as Bruce's eyes flicked down to his partner's cock and found a promise of more. Clark worked his fingers through as he swung his body back over Bruce's and began to scissor his fingers and hook them carefully with every stroke. He hooked up Bruce's legs with his left hand and pushed them forward while continuing to fuck Bruce.
Bruce felt his eyes water with the hot and growing pleasure that coursed through his veins. Clark's head brushed his thigh, and Bruce nearly broke into tears at the hot and wet brushing of his thigh. Begging to take purchase in him, and to claim him. It was possessive and also sick, but Bruce mewled at the thought, and his cock began to pulse and twitch at Clark's continued denial.
Clark slowed his fingers, but curled again just to see Bruce squeal.
"Where are the condoms?"
"Don't have any." Bruce gasped as a fresh wave of pleasure pulsed inside his cock, and his ass burned at the stretch of Clark's fingers.
"No?"
"No. I told you..."
"I know, I know. Are you...?" Clark whispered softly as he squeezed Bruce's thigh and pushed up against Bruce's prostate like a tease.
"Gah!"
"I'm clean, would that be okay?"
"Yes!"
"Okay, are you ready?" Clark asked, very softly. His voice had been husky and slightly teasing before, but the moment had caught up to them again. Slipping his fingers out of Bruce as he shifted to meet Bruce's gaze. "I love you."
It felt almost more pleasurable to repeat the words. Bruce noticed this as his heart melted and became like gold trickling throughout his body as he looked up deeply into Clark's eyes. They were earnest and very blue as well as watery. They made Bruce beg for a photographic memory as he tried to commit every detail of the expression. The way Clark looked at him made even the scars littering his body level in equalness.
He felt no insecurity or doubt as he lay naked under Clark's eyes.
It seemed unreal to be beheld in such a way, and Bruce wished for a way to show the same reverence. But he knew his face was always hard and stony, as he had made it so for years.
So he expressed his love by reaching his hands to Clark's cheeks and lifting himself from the crowns of his pillows to kiss him.
It was a soft and held kiss. Bruce didn't open his mouth, and neither did Clark. They only held their lips together and breathed softly as Bruce stroked Clark's hot skin. Fanning his fingers across his head and cupping the back of his neck as he brought them back down to the pillows.
Sinking even lower as Bruce tilted his lips with a wet release and brought Clark's face to his cheek, and gave a shaky nod.
He prayed that Clark knew he owned Bruce's heart.
Clark always did seem to know, though.
As he kissed Bruce's cheek and finally slid his right hand to spread Bruce open once again.
"I love you too." Bruce whispered as the cold air struck his hot hole. It was another time the words tore from him like a punch to the gut. But he smiled as he said them this time, as he felt no fear at his constant admission.
"I love you."
And then Clark pressed his head against Bruce's hole.
The feeling of white and red returned as Bruce let out a whimper at the glorious size and heat.
He let his body go slack as the pressure delighted his aching cock. He felt as though he could come simply by watching Clark's face. Squeezed tight and full of control to try and not hurt Bruce as he tried to level his urges. His jaw was locked as he pushed himself in slowly and carefully, inch by inch, as Bruce gasped and cried out with agony. The pressure and curve of Clark's cock was enough to make Bruce pass out as he finally felt Clark's hair brush his perineum.
Clark was all that he had dreamed of.
Warm and full as well as sweet and loving throughout.
He gasped and heaved as he settled himself in Bruce, as Bruce bit his lip and tried not to come. They both made a mess of each other.
Clark held him tight against his body like a lifeline as he held his hips still and moaned into Bruce's ear. Rubbing his chest as he sucked his hickeys darker and whispered praise into his ear as Bruce shook and scraped his shoulders. It was understood that they would not last long, but neither cared in the slightest.
"You okay?"
"Y-Yes..."
"Is it good?" Clark asked with a need for confirmation as he shifted his hips slightly for the faintest hint of movement.
"Yes!" Bruce cried as his eyes welled and his prostate pulsed, and his cock went nearly purple. "Yes!"
"God... Bruce." Clark gasped as he pushed back and pulled. "It's good..."
"Hnngh!" He cried as he tried to bite down on his lip and center his brain on one single feeling to ground himself. It was nearly impossible to do as with every pull back and every trust ten new feelings seeped into his heart as well as his cock.
Clark's hands had found a tight hold, looping around Bruce's cheeks and cupping around the base of his neck. His arms were locked tight behind Bruce's shoulder blades, supporting himself off Bruce as he shifted back and forth with his teeth clenched together. Bruce could feel the tension behind his back as he felt his insides being shifted and stroked deeply. It made him sick with greed as he fought against Clark's efforts to keep himself off Bruce by wrapping his arms around Clark's shoulder blades and pulling him back down.
The other seemed to love Bruce's pull, but he fought it as he slapped his body against Bruce's ass at a very deep and pushing pace while still keeping a distance. Bruce knew he just wanted to watch Bruce as he fucked him, and the thought made his cock pulse. Slick warmth had begun to corrupt his body as the lube became deliriously hot, and Clark's cock only seemed to grow more and more with every trust.
He knew it would never be the same.
He knew it would never be the same for him, at least.
He hoped it would never be the same.
Nothing had ever compared.
The feeling of Clark holding him steady while he fucked into him. Trying to contain himself as Bruce felt himself tightening the second Clark slipped out, just to entice him back in. Clark gave and gave as he kissed the side of Bruce's temple and hiked his hips up to angle his cock deep inside him. Nudging his prostate into his core as his cock went purple from his restraint.
Begging himself not to come as he held the sweat on Clark's skin and squeezed his eyes shut and drank in the pleasure like fine wine. Sick and glorifying as his heart pulsed gently but deeply, as the sound of Clark's moan harmonized with his own.
He had never been loud in bed. Never felt like it was gratifying, or like the sex was good enough. But even when the sex was good, but not as good as sex with Clark, and he never felt like the sound could leave him. It was too revealing, too obvious, and shameful.
Clark loved him loud.
Both ways.
It soothed Bruce as his chest contracted and tears slipped from his eyes as security gripped him like Clark settling over him like a second body. Never had he cried during sex, not even when he lost his virginity. The emotions were restrained to a tight hold over him, but he felt as though Clark had unlocked him with a key. Emotions he hadn't even acknowledged came to him like pleasure as he began to scratch at Clark's back like a cat.
His body was coming undone, and his heart cracked into a stronger piece.
A full sob overtook him.
"I love you!"
"I know, I know, baby," Clark whispered as his hips took a faster pace. Diving into Bruce with desperation to drive him to his brink and float him down. "I love you too."
"M' gonna come."
"Can you come alone?"
"Yes... Yes..." Bruce gasped as the air was lifted from his lungs with an explosion of a moan as Clark scratched an itch in his soul. His cock was seeping wet on his stomach, and he felt his balls tightening with a familiar peaking. "I'm gonna come.. I'm gonna come... Clark... I'm gonna come..."
Clark kissed him and locked him in place as Clark slammed into him ruthlessly with the perfect thrust and caught the scream in his lips as his vision whited out.
"I love you, Bruce. Come for me... I've got you... I love you so much, baby."
The feeling felt like a delirium as come shot from his cock and burned him like a brand as his entire body caught the sensation.
Dizzying and sensational as his jaw locked and his whole body jerked with each spill. The feeling of Clark thrusting blindly into him as the tightness of Bruce's ass drove Clark into a similar delirium. Clark seized hold of Bruce's head as he ground out his final trust and came deep into Bruce's sensitive and overstimulated ass with a shout.
Trusting the last few shots out like a robot as he groaned and caught Bruce's gasps and whimpers at the continued fullness of his ass. Overstimulation gripped him as Clark took hold of his face and kissed him through pulling out as Bruce's ass spasmed and his come dried against his stomach.
The feeling filled all the old cracks in his soul as Clark rested himself next to Bruce to avoid his soft cock. Kissing was a wonderful thing Bruce learned he hadn't appreciated enough during his previous relationships. But they didn't carry the emotional warmth that Clark's did.
He looked lovely and so beautiful in the afterglow of sex. Sweaty and flushed, and Bruce only hoped he thought the same. It seemed mutual as he returned to kiss Bruce again and again. His kisses were sloppy and a bit tired from his own exhaustion. Bruce could tell with a smile as Clark's body shook slightly from exhaustion and bliss, so he stilled his own excited nerves and met Clark halfway. Pushing him down to rest on his back for once and kissing him to a near sleep for what felt like eternity.
He felt reborn as well as renewed. So comfortable in his bed despite being sore all over and whipped from his orgasm. Bathing in the bliss of all the emotions and sensations coming over his chest as Clark took hold of his shoulders again and stretched them once again to rest on their sides. This motion broke the kiss, and they lay beside one another and simply stared.
Clark had beautiful eyes.
Bruce observed this with tear stains across his cheeks.
Clark also had a beautiful smile.
And beautiful hands as he took Bruce's face and held his eyes like they were another version of him.
"I love you."
Bruce knew it without a doubt.
"I love you too."
"Go to bed?"
"Later."
"I'll still be here, Bruce."
"...Okay."
And he did, with Clark following not a minute after.
His hand never left his cheek until they both awoke in the later hours of the morning.
The day truly began then.