Chapter Text
Their lips crashed together, hands running over each other’s bodies. Clark is dizzy with excitement while heat is roiling in his gut.
He couldn’t even begin to explain how he even achieved the current present but the way Bruce swiftly takes off his glasses to kiss him even deeper sends his mind blissfully blank.
They stumbled to the leather chaise lounge that’s pushed off to the side of the cave, knocking into a rolling cart of tools and batarangs on the way. The impact made Bruce trip over himself slightly, but he immediately tries to lock his mouth onto Clark’s once more, who huffs a fond laugh.
"Careful.” He whispered, smiling into the next kiss.
Clark collapsed back into the couch with Bruce straddling him slightly. He ran his hands over the other man’s ass and thighs, but the sensuality of it is a little obstructed due to the stiffness of the suit.
“How about we get these off?” He grins, squeezing his thighs. The smaller man twitches in his lap.
“Right. Yeah.” Bruce answered. His voice is quiet like always, but now there’s an undeniable note of sultriness in his tone.
It makes Clark giddy.
He gets off his lap to unlatch his cape. He’s mirrored by Clark who takes the time to hastily shuck off the top of his suit while Bruce begins to fiddle with the latches on his suit.
Clark watches, transfixed. Hidden switches and buckles he had never dared use his X-ray vision on all become unlatched in a matter of seconds under Bruce’s swift hand.
First, are his bracers and gloves. Once off, they reveal pale hands with muscled forearms adorned with slashes and starburst scars. Next, was the chestplate. Clark watches with both rapt attention and horny impatience as Bruce takes his sweet time with the clasps.
While on the outside he’s resolutely stone-faced and focused on his task, Clark can hear the rabbit-quick pace of Bruce’s heart. Every once in a while, his lidded eyes will flick downwards towards Clark, and towards the obviously tented bulge in his suit.
While his senses drink it all in, he barely notices himself hunching further over in his seat, his breaths coming in heavier and eyes never leaving Bruce’s pale, scarred fingers. Though, upon closer inspection, he can see his hands shaking with the most minute tremble.
He leans back then, willing his gaze into something less intense. Bruce allowing Clark to finally see him so unguarded, figuratively and literally, made something swell inside of him. Something unexplainable, yet so wonderful.
His thoughts sing in his head with the trust that Bruce was now giving him with shaking hands. He knew the reclusive man wouldn’t even think about doing this without considering the potential outcomes or repercussions for his secret identity. Not that Clark could even bear the thought of doing anything with or to Bruce that might end up with the other man’s regret or ire against him.
And, well, there was also the fact that his trust also mixed in red-hot with his arousal; the pressure of his tented cock was nearing painful now. God, he could just-
Reluctantly, he tore his eyes away from the man’s pecs to meet his gaze. Bruce was staring at him, the sharpness of it accentuated by the eyeliner smudged dark around his eyes. Only his pants remained, except now they were unbuckled and peeled away just enough to reveal a happy trail leading down to the visible hard-on straining through his boxers.
Oh, fuck.
Clark wanted to pounce on him and kiss him silly right then and there, but the inner sounds of Bruce’s anxieties were still loud and clear. Instead, he rose slowly from the chair, and approached the shorter man. Bruce didn’t hesitate in putting his hands on Clark’s waist, making his heart skip a beat.
For now, Clark kept his hands away from any of their sensitive areas, and rested his arms over Bruce’s shoulders, interlocking his hands.
“Clark-”
“How do you wanna do this? I’m up for anything you got,” he said. He littered some kisses up and down Bruce’s neck, savoring the other man’s fingers raking down his back in response.
“I’m- I’m- oh, fuck - I’m not sure.”
Bruce started muttering other things under his breath, dark eyes fluttering closed as Clark moved on to kissing his collarbone. His arms shifted to wrap around Clark’s waist instead and pulled him flush against him.
They both sucked in sharp breaths as both their erections made that first delicious contact and pressed together. He let out a breathy chuckle against Bruce’s neck, not even bothering to hide his grin.
“Alright, let’s start there.”
“You, ah, you-”
Bruce was interrupted by Clark roughly palming his bulge. A full body twitch wracked his frame as he gasped loudly in the wide expanse of the cave, his slight moan echoing throughout. His open mouth and sweaty face only served to make Clark harder and squeeze Bruce harder.
“There we go,” he said huskily, and got to work.
By the time they get settled on the couch, Bruce is down to his underwear, and Clark is stripped down to only his pants and boots. Their hands explore every inch of each other, both refusing to be apart for even a second.
As Clark captures Bruce’s mouth in yet another deep, filthy kiss, he thinks to himself that he would actually die if the friction between their clothed cocks stopped for even a single moment.
Bruce unlatches his mouth from his, taking a few heaving breaths. Breathing similarly, Clark leans further back and savors the view he’s greeted with.
He’s kneeled above him, staring down through smokey eyes filled with want . His mouth is slightly swollen and reddened from their kissing. His sculpted chest heaves with exertion, even though Clark has seen the guy carry out way more exhaustive feats without even a change in his breathing. A picture couldn’t do him justice. He’s a painting .
Only some making out and light grinding, and this is what I’ve turned you into?
Clark’s giddy thoughts come to a screeching stop when Bruce suddenly pushes him into a lying position and comes to straddle him on top. His hands find their way to grabbing his waist without even thinking about it, to which Bruce’s own hands come to latch on his wrists immediately after, their grip tighter than normal.
Clark stops himself from where he was about to grind up into the other man.
“Bruce?” He questions, eyes searching the other man’s face.
Despite how hard the both of them are breathing, it’s a moment of stillness. Bruce’s heart still thunders in the background, and his erection seems to grow harder by the second, but he searches Clark’s face too. Something sharp and - hesitant? peeks out through his expression of dark-eyed lust.
“Bru-”
“It’s nothing,” he says roughly. “Let’s keep going.” Bruce leans down over him then, and gently rolls his hips downward.
But Clark doesn’t move, not quite yet. His broad hand comes up to gently grasp the nape of Bruce’s neck, bending him closer to his face. His lank, dark hair tickles his fingers, and Clark temporarily resists the urge to let their mouths meet again.
They meet each other’s gazes, wholly focused on the other. Despite his current debauched look, Bruce’s expression has become unreadable now. He hasn’t receded back into the Batman, not even close, but there’s something intense in his gaze that’s completely separate from their heated exchange. He’s waiting.
Clark leans in closer, close enough to feel Bruce’s hot breath ghosting his face.
“It’s alright,” he says, a little breathy, but without losing the firmness in his voice. “I have you.”
A beat. Then two, that turns into three-
A near imperceptible nod from Bruce. He closes his eyes, and their lips meet. Clark’s heart sings as Bruce sighs against his mouth gently when they briefly part.
Thank you. I’ll protect this, I swear.
And once again, Clark’s warm thoughts are put to a halt; this time, when Bruce abruptly grinds down.
Hard.
And he grinds down again. And again. And again -
Every roll of Bruce’s firm hips punches a gasp out of him, sending sparks flying in his vision. Clark’s hands return to his scarred waist, kneading into the muscles there for any kind of leverage.
He drinks in the feeling of Bruce placing his hands onto his pecs, squeezing them involuntarily to keep his balance. His heart pounds a drumbeat against his pale hands. God, he hopes Bruce can feel it.
“Ho-ly, pretty eager aren’t we?” he manages. Bruce says nothing. He just grinds down once again, only this time, a small, breathy moan escapes his lips.
“Oh, I think we can go louder than that.”
Grabbing Bruce’s hips harder, he thrusts his cock up against the other. He doesn’t even let the second moan fully leave Bruce’s mouth before he does it again, and again, and again .
The couch creaks loudly from the force of Bruce bouncing in his lap, their tented cocks rubbing together obscenely. Smears of precome are visible on the fabric against both their bulges, and the sight of it only makes Clark drive his hips up faster.
Clark’s eyebrows are downturned, eyes squeezed shut as he savors the hot friction, but he shoots them open immediately upon a new, louder sound in the air.
“Ah, ah, oh fuck-, ah, ah, ah!”
Clark’s hips stutter once, but only once.
He closes his eyes again for the briefest second, thanking his lucky stars that gave him the opportunity to experience this very moment.
Bruce is quickly unraveling above him, hair growing messier and face growing pinker the longer he’s forcefully thrusted against Clark’s cock. One hand grabs his pec even harder, nails involuntarily digging into the meat there and pulling at his chest hair, while the opposite forearm holds the back of the chaise to keep his balance from how hard Clark’s going with him.
Clark can’t help himself. “Hey, honey?”
Bruce gasps again, bowing down over him. His eyes meet his half-lidded stare, but flicker away just as quickly in apparent bashfulness.
“W-what is it?” he asks, voice gravelly.
The sight of his makeup smeared around his eyes and his heaving chest are enough to make Clark’s cock grow even harder. Evidently, Bruce must notice, because his eyes roll slightly in his head, whispering the quietest fuck that he’s ever heard.
Bless this man.
Clark grabs Bruce’s ass, which ends up dragging the smaller man further along the expanse of his erection (Clark doesn’t miss the near whine coming from Bruce. He then leans up as close as he can to his face. The other man is holding his breath and biting his lip to keep quiet; his heart is punching his ribcage even faster in anticipation. He can practically feel the vibrations of it in the air.
The moment between them is quiet, but red-hot; the need to move is urgent and desperate, but Clark can’t pass up the chance to look the Batman in the eye before he does this.
“Just hold on to me, alright?”
And before Bruce can make another sound, Clark grips him more firmly, and fucks up into him, with deep rolls of his hips that strain the fabric of their boxers. Bruce lurches forward with a punched out moan, and attempts to meet his fast rhythm with small circles of his own.
Not fast enough, in his mind. Clarks ruts up deeper, as if he’s trying to fuck Bruce already. His cock burns hot and hard as he fights to breach the layers between them.
Bruce whines, louder and higher than any sound he’s made him so far.
Oh, god. The sound of it is downright filthy, and just- intoxicating. He needs more.
Clark’s babbling before his mind catches up to his dick. “Louder, c’mon, I know you can do it. Just a little louder, honey-”
He keeps up the rough pace, to which Bruce gifts him with more high-pitched moans. Bruce’s cock throbs in time with their rhythm, more of his precome getting slathered against his own.
“Ah, ah, oh, ah, oh my- oh fuck, fastergodpleasefaster-”
Clark is practically jackhammering his hips now. The chaise beneath them has scooted several centimeters from its initial position from the sheer force in which he’s humping up into Bruce like a goddamn dog. Clark’s head feels five miles behind from his body, with nothing but floaty thoughts of bliss to join the rest of the delicious heat and slick.
“Augh, oh fuck, FUCK-!”
Bruce stifles the rest of his guttural moan with a hand, eyes rolling up in his head and neck straining as he tilts his head back. The sudden abundance of warm come spurts slightly through his boxers, oozing onto Clark’s waist. He rolls his hips again once, twice -
Starbursts explode on the inside of Clark’s eyelids, dragging a deep groan out of his mouth as he climaxes hard against Bruce’s cock. His entire body locks for a single wonderful second of pure ecstasy, before the shuddering starts.
The world is blurred around him, and his senses have let themselves go in a soupy aura. Muffled sounds tease Clark’s ears, and he slumps down in a slick daze, his cock twitching sporadically.
However, he gathers enough awareness to reach out a hand in search of Bruce’s. He interlocks them both and squeezes. He smiles a little goofily when he feels him squeeze back.
The both of them breathe heavily in the echoing silence of the cave. The surrounding dimness serves to make an even hotter picture of Bruce, as the small lights from his workbench illuminates the glistening sweat sticking to his torso, as well as his half-lidded, almost sleepy expression. His mouth hangs slightly open, trying to pant more quietly.
Clark’s eyes roll as another glob of come spurts out his cock just at the sight.
Bruce makes a noise of surprise, and shifts in his lap-
“Ah!”
A sensation verging on painful blitzes up his crotch, sending an uncomfortable shudder across his spine. Bruce freezes from where he had been trying to get off his lap, his eyes instantly lasering in on Clark’s face.
“What’s wrong? What’d I do?” he asks rapidly, voice quiet.
He doesn’t- can’t respond with words. His cock pulsates again in a familiar pattern as he scrabbles to get the rest of the restricting fabric off of it -
Another set of hands reach for his boxers and pull them down in a single tug, which then get to work on taking off his suit pants too.
Clark lets Bruce work as he soaks in the blessed feeling of cool air hitting his overheated dick, which stands against his belly, still twitching and rock-hard.
Geez, when was the last time he’d had a sequence burst? Autumn? But it couldn’t be his heat yet , right? But Clark still didn’t really know if it - ngh - if it worked the same way on Earth as it might’ve on Krypton. The difference between red and yellow suns probably changed a thing or two about whatever “mating season” he was supposed to experience but- ah, holy shit-
Bruce’s soft tone breaks through his rushing thoughts, bringing some needed clarity into his head. “Clark.”
He fights to keep his attention on the details of Bruce’s pale, luminous face and his quiet words, trying to distract himself from the persistent throbbing down below.
“Yes?” he answers, and is slightly shocked at how fragile his voice comes out.
Bruce reaches out a hand, but it halts in midair, unsure. “Are you alright? Is this- are you…?”
He trails off, a muscle working in his cheek as he looks over Clark’s strained muscles and bobbing dick with a mix of concern and arousal.
“Yeah, yeah, this is - ah - normal. For the most part. Pretty sure.” he grounds out. He reaches down and fists the base of his cock, breathing a little easier as some of the unwanted pressure releases.
“A Kryptonian thing,” Clark clarifies, trying to adjust his position to sit up better. Bruce had pulled his costume down to about mid thigh, but the heat, sweat and come trapped between his legs and was quickly becoming unbearable.
“Here, I just-“ his cock twitches angrily again- “ ngh, ow- I just needa spread my legs a bit.”
But before Clark can do so much as begin to kick off his boots, Bruce wordlessly shifts off of the couch and gets on one knee before him. He reaches a hand towards Clark’s pants, and tilts his head at him. A silent request.
He smiles stupidly at the smaller man, who quickly glances away and starts tugging off his boots. Clark gives himself a few lazy pumps, and silently admires the way that Bruce’s scars ripple in the light when his back muscles move. It also doesn’t escape his notice the way that his come drips down onto the floor while he’s kneeling.
Together, they finish stripping Clark out of the rest of his suit, leaving him completely naked in the coolness of the cave. A part of him feels a little bashful at getting buck-ass naked so abruptly in someone else’s home for the first time, but the relief on his dick combined with the way he can hear Bruce’s breathing getting heavier again quickly throws most of the embarrassment out the window.
Bruce is back in his previous position of sitting next to him, knee brushing his thigh. Clark makes sure to meet his eye. He gives him a small smile and strokes himself a little more. “Thanks. Ah, shoot . That- that really helped.”
“Mm-hm,” is all Bruce says, watching, enthralled, as Clark starts toying with his slit. He stifles a smirk as he notices the man’s dick subtly hardening back up again in his boxers.
“So what happened?”
He faces him, smudged eyes burning into his own.
Clark huffs a laugh. “Wanna see?"
Bruce blinks owlishly. Then his gaze immediately flicks down to his crotch, eyebrows downturned and expression focused.
He angles his cock slightly to give him a better view of its side. “Here, look,” he says, voice slightly wavering. “See the colored parts?”
His dick, while pretty long, is definitely on the thinner side, with four purplish lines spaced evenly along the shaft. Raised along all of them are fat ridges that pulsate uncomfortably.
Bruce leans in closer. “Yeah,” he answers hoarsely.
“I guess Kryptonians are only fertile during certain parts of the year or something, so during that time, I can only come in - mphm - something that the Fortress databases call “a sequence burst”. It basically means that I, uh-,” Clark stutters as feels his face heat up a little. He’s just now realizing that since Bruce is the first person to get frisky with both Clark Kent and Superman, he’s never actually told anyone else this before.
He risks a glance at him. He’s now staring fixedly at a random spot on the stone floor, but his posture indicates he’s listening intently. Clark can almost hear his thoughts tossing this new information inside his head.
“It means if I wanna get someone pregnant then I gotta finish inside a couple times to make it stick- or well, maybe that rule only applies to Kryptonians, I’m not really sure. I mean, I’m sure there’s fancier science that explains it better than what the Superman robots were able to tell me, but anyways, I- I gotta let the bursts pass regardless, or, ah, or -”
His cock takes that moment to throb again, shifting into an angrier, darker hue. “It’s just not healthy to keep it in,” he gasps, head bowing forward.
Clark’s breathing picks up again as he returns to stroking his cock, eyes squeezing shut. Almost immediately, a spurt of semen shoots out, splattering his stomach. Through his own strangled gasp, he wouldn’t have heard Bruce’s sharp intake of breath were it not for his superhearing.
“And that?” He hears him ask lowly.
When he opens his eyes, Bruce is suddenly closer, breath ghosting his cheek. And though his tone is aroused, there’s also an unmistakable curiosity underlying it.
His cock, while still stuck in its stiffness, sports a new change. A section of the shaft directly beneath his tip has swelled into a more bulbous shape. And speaking of his tip, it’s now flared slightly, having lost its usual mushroom shape when he came.
“I think,” Clarks swallows hard. “I think that’s for locking inside whoever I’m-”
“Can I?”
He blinks. Bruce offers no other explanation or elaboration. He only reaches a hand out.
So, the next reasonable course of action to take is nodding vigorously, his breath leaving his lungs in a rush.
Bruce’s chapped lips meet his. Clark enthusiastically reciprocates, deepening the kiss and slipping in tongue. Bruce moans softly, licking into his mouth and running a hand through his floppy curls.
Before he knows it, Bruce’s hand replaces his own, and gets to work on pumping his cock. At first, his grip is a little awkward and too tight, but he soon finds a steady pace that increases every moment. Clark groans into his mouth, a pleasant, heated shudder rippling across his back.
He reaches down to palm Bruce’s freshly straining bulge, eliciting a surprised sound that Clark so badly wants to call a whimper.
The sounds of slick fill up the space around them, seemingly getting wetter and wetter in the passing seconds. He barely notices, still too caught up in the fact that this is happening, and that this is happening with Bruce.
In between gasps of needed air when they part lips, Clark smiles against his mouth, giddy and his head fuzzy.
Bruce pumps even faster, rolling his wrist as he goes. The come from his three previous orgasms squelch against his skin. It’s all filthy, in the best way possible.
His own ministrations get rougher, massaging the outline of Bruce’s thick cock with the heel of his hand. The other man frantically bucks up into it.
“Ah, just like that, Bruce, just like that, justliketha -”
And just like that, another stream shoots hot and heavy out his dick, the bulb expanding even more and quivering in the open air. Clark is temporarily rendered speechless as he groans into Bruce’s straining neck. His legs twitch sporadically, sensitive nerves reignited all over again.
Crushed beside him, Bruce is red-faced, panting with small whines and nearly unintelligible whispers.
“Please, please, pleasepleaseplease-”
C’mon Kent, stop being a tease.
He tears the stupid boxers out of the way in one rip, and Bruce’s cock springs forth. It’s much thicker than his, slicked all over with come from both himself and Clark, and features a prominent vein throbbing on its underside.
Clark wraps his hand around its heavy weight, and starts stroking. Fast.
At this point, he’s quiet with concentration on servicing Bruce, now facing him fully. The man in question is looking away, pale neck straining with a knuckle in his mouth to bite back the sounds fighting to escape him.
The only notable sound echoing through the cave is the furious fapfapfap of Clark rapidly jerking him off.
Good lord.
Soon, he comes with a muffled, throaty gasp. Hot seed spills over Clark’s fist in rivulets, and Bruce’s thighs shake violently as he tightens his grip on the couch. Though, when his head drops to his chest, it accidentally knocks against the wooden frame of the chaise, eliciting a slightly plained hiss.
Clark instinctively goes to cover the spot with his hand. “Oh, hey, careful, careful.”
“Who gives a fuck,” Bruce slurs slightly, “oh my god.”
He shivers as he rides out the rest of his orgasm, chest stuttering.
Bruce slumps further into Clark’s side, who doesn’t hesitate in wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. Drying sweat and come both begin to stick uncomfortably to his body and pubic hair, but for now, he’s more than content to share this moment of warm, hazy quiet between them. He sighed, burying his cheek in Bruce’s sweaty strands of hair.
The other man’s heart is gradually winding down from its full gallop in his chest, and Clark keeps a near absentminded ear out for any irregularities in its rhythm. It’s a habit he’s acquired ever since Pa had that health scare way out in the barn while he and Ma were baking inside the house. Lois sometimes pokes light fun at him for it, but has never told him to stop, so Clark quietly covets it as his method to keep an eye on those he loves.
He’s the first to break the quiet. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the whole, uh, anatomy thing.” He gestured vaguely to his cock, which by this point has softened and reassumed the appearance of a completely normal human dick.
“No, no it was-,” Bruce tilts his head, tone considering, “Fascinating.” He runs a hand across Clark’s pec, tangling his fingers slightly in the hair there.
But for a second, he pauses.
His tone then lowers into something more suggestive, more confident. “You’ll have to show me more later. I have questions I want to see answered.”
“Later, yeah.” Excitement bubbles up in Clark’s gut, the now familiar heat simmering in his groin once again.
Later, they can get up and mop themselves off with towels before a quick rinse in the shower. Later, Bruce can go meticulously re-organize whatever gadgets and do-dads they dislodged in their passion. Later, Clark can hopefully fire up some eggs and toast in the kitchen for them both as a re-energizer. And later, they can do it all over again.
But for now, he listens to Bruce’s breathing even out as he falls into a light doze. Clark just holds him closer, smiling to himself in the dim light like a fool.