Chapter Text
“I thank you all for your patience while I was unavailable,” Bruce said, standing at the head of the table in the main Watchtower meeting room. An ominous black silhouette in a crowd of technicolour.
“You go anywhere fun?” asked Booster Gold, his chair tipped back and his feet propped on the tabletop.
Bruce just stared. After a moment Booster dropped his feet back to the floor, grinning sheepishly but generally unrepentant. Blue Beetle laughed and patted Booster on the arm sympathetically. After another moment Bruce said, “I didn’t do anything relevant to the League.”
“So you finally took that vacation,” Ollie said, sounding surprised but pleased. Now it was Green Arrow’s turn to be stared at and he threw up his hands, grinning. “Right, right. I forgot who I was talking to. Sorry for implying you might be a human being.”
Bruce, clearly unimpressed by this friendly ribbing, continued on to League business with no other mention of his time away. Two months in all, the six weeks in the casts and two weeks of the month he was supposed to take off afterwards. Clark had no idea how Alfred had managed to keep Bruce down even that long.
Bruce had texted Clark “Freedom!” as soon as the casts were off. Clark had replied, “Lol congrats :)” And that had been all the contact they’d had since then. This meeting was actually the first time Clark had seen Bruce since. Since the last time.
By the pool, the sun radiant, Bruce’s tongue in his arse. Clark felt himself flush. He really shouldn't be thinking about this during a meeting. Or at all. Bruce had given no indication that he wanted to continue utilising Clark’s services , as it were, now his casts were off. Clark had wanted to ask but in the end he hadn’t.
Clark knew himself and he wouldn’t have been able to continue a sexual relationship with Bruce without eventually demanding things that Bruce couldn’t give. Whether he would mean to or not. And that wouldn’t be fair and it would definitely drive Bruce away.
And more than sex, more than romantic love, Clark wanted Bruce with him. He wanted Bruce in his life for as long as he had. Clark wasn’t going to mess that up by pushing their relationship to a place Bruce didn’t want it to be.
So Clark resolved to simply let it be. If Bruce wanted to talk about it he would bring it up. Until that point Clark was just going to go back to how things were. In all honesty Bruce would more than likely be relieved. Bruce hated platitudes, hated unnecessary conversation. Rather than make a big deal out of anything he prefered for things to simply run smoothly. So Clark was going to run smoothly.
As he watched Bruce return with such easy grace to his position as team strategist Clark was filled with love and pride for his friend. He could do this; Clark could move on.
Bruce heard himself speaking but knew he was going through the motions. Most of his attention was on Clark. He was sitting there smiling in that same warm way he always had. As though nothing were different. As though they hadn’t fucked. As though the fact of their physical intimacy hadn’t completely changed his world.
And obviously it hadn’t. It was very apparent that, for Clark, their sexual encounters had been a momentary break from the norm, a temporary insanity to help Bruce deal with his injuries. And now it was time to return to their friendship as usual. This little blip on the radar behind them, nothing more than yet another shared experience.
Bruce had no idea what to do. He wanted to follow Clark’s lead, he wanted to be able to move forward with him. He never wanted to make Clark uncomfortable. But he would. Bruce knew he would. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself from pushing Clark, it was just how he was. Without even meaning to, he would push until he got his own way. Which was a one way ticket to Clark hating him.
Bruce could never live with that. He was going to have to keep himself from fucking this up completely. He was going to have to keep his distance.
After the meeting Clark approached Bruce, smiling in what he hoped was a friendly, and not completely lovesick, way. “Hey, did you want to grab a coffee? Catch up?” he asked, reminding himself not to stand too close.
The chorus of The Police’s famous song briefly played in his head and Clark smiled at his own dorkishness. But Bruce merely looked at him, his typically expressionless Batman face even more blank than usual.
“Actually, I’ve got to,” Bruce paused. Clark felt his heart clench. Was Bruce coming up with an excuse not to hang out? No. That couldn’t be what he was doing. They were friends. They were still friends. Right? “I’ve got a lot of stuff to catch up on here.”
“We can just have a quick one in the breakroom. I won’t take up too much of your time,” Clark said. He was starting to sound desperate to his own ears. But all he could think was please. Please don’t be avoiding me.
“I’d really like to get it all done as soon as possible,” Bruce said apologetically.
“Okay,” Clark said, holding onto his smile as best he could. “Another time then.”
Bruce nodded in a distracted way, moving off quickly. Clark watched him go, a sense of worry wanting to grow in the pit of his stomach. He was just being paranoid. Overly sensitive. It was fine. They were fine.
“What’d you do to piss him off this time?” Booster asked, his tone only partly joking.
Clark grinned wanly. “Oh you know, the usual.”
Booster Gold laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. Clark barely remembered to move so Booster wouldn’t bruise his hand.
Bruce fought the urge to go back and accept the coffee offer. He couldn’t give in to his own weakness. Until he could act like a real friend again, he had to keep himself from taking advantage of Clark’s kindness. Again.
He did have a lot to catch up on in the Tower, that hadn’t been a lie. It didn’t need to be done immediately, but Bruce needed the distraction. And as it always was, the work was there to help keep him from hurting those around him.
***
Clark saw Bruce at the Tower the next day, and asked again if he wanted to grab a quick coffee together. Again Bruce said he was busy. Then it seemed that Clark and Bruce were never there at the same time. Were never anywhere at the same time.
They were never scheduled to work together anymore either. It happened at times, Batman and Superman weren’t always teamed up. But it was generally acknowledged that they complemented each others’ work styles. That and the fact they lived so close to each other made them a fairly obvious and consistent team up.
So it was weird that they hadn’t been matched for a few weeks now. It was weird for them to not at least see each other at the Tower. Clark was fairly sure he wasn’t being paranoid now. Bruce was avoiding him.
Clark wasn’t certain what he had done wrong. He had suspicions. But he was hoping to god that Bruce wasn’t avoiding him because they had had sex. Because if that was why…
Clark couldn’t handle it if that was why.
Generally, Clark tried to respect the privacy of others. He avoided eavesdropping as much as he physically could. But he was starting to feel pretty desperate. The worry had grown into full blown anxiety. He needed to talk to Bruce.
Bruce had been working hard to not run into Clark. Because every time he saw Clark’s face his heart would begin to trip over itself, his stomach would tie into knots and he would generally become such a mess that it was painfully obvious how pathetically not over Clark he was.
So Bruce was deeply unprepared when Clark started showing up seemingly everywhere. He would appear with that kind, loving smile asking Bruce how he was, if he wanted to grab dinner.
“I feel like we haven’t seen each other in ages,” Clark said, his smile growing small and brittle looking. “Not since…”
Clark had to be hearing Bruce’s heart rate immediately stumble into triple time. He had to escape. How do you keep a secret from a human lie detector?
“I like keeping busy,” Bruce said quickly, turning back to the Watchtower monitors, utilising his breathing to calm his heart.
“But we usually make time for each other,” Clark said, moving closer and ruining all of Bruce’s hard work to calm down. Bruce shuffled, attempting to distract himself from Clark’s hand, resting so near his own on the monitor bank. “Is there anything I can help with? Lighten your load?”
Why the fuck did Clark have to be so goddamn kind? Bruce felt frustration almost eclipse his longing. He felt his jaw clenching tight as he tried to keep from screaming at Clark to just please, please leave him alone. Until Bruce could control his traitor heart. Until Bruce could keep himself from ruining their friendship with his selfishness.
Silence stretched out between them, trembling and fragile. Like Bruce’s heart. That thought, so scarily vulnerable, pushed Bruce’s frustration ahead of everything else he was feeling. He stood abruptly.
“I have to go,” he said, trying (failing?) to keep the irritation out of his voice.
Despite his shift on monitor duty not ending for another hour, Bruce fled the room, hoping that the dramatic swirl of his cape made it look more like a powerful stride and less like a scared run. He might have fooled Clark but he certainly wasn’t fooling himself.
Bruce hid from Clark in one of the smaller meeting rooms, hating himself for so many reasons.
***
“Clark! For the love of whatever gods watch over journalists in the era of the 24 hour news cycle, can you please stop.” Lois was clenching her ballpoint so hard it was amazing that it hadn’t broken already. It had happened before.
“What?” Clark asked distractedly. Then he realised he was bouncing both of his legs so hard it was as though he had pins and needles. He stilled them. “Sorry.”
“What is up with you lately?” Lois asked, partially genuine concern, partially genuine annoyance. “You’ve been more distracted than I’ve ever seen you.”
Clark sighed, scrubbing his face with a hand, pushing his glasses up to his forehead. “I’ve just. There’s this friend of mine,” he said slowly.
“The one you’re in love with?” Lois said casually. Clark flinched.
“I never said-” he began.
“You never had to,” Lois interrupted. Her smirk was not unkind as she said, “If it’s that same guy you’ve been talking about for years now, you’ve never had to say anything. The look on your face is obvious.”
Clark felt his heart clench. Lois was at least as perceptive as Bruce and if she had noticed then Bruce must have as well. Fuck. No wonder Bruce was avoiding him.
“So what happened with mister tall, dark and irksome?” Lois asked with a smile.
Clark couldn’t even attempt to smile back. “I think I’ve screwed up,” Clark confessed, feeling tears in the back of his throat.
“In what way?” Lois said, tucking the pen behind her ear and giving Clark her full attention.
“I think he’s avoiding me,” Clark said.
“You think? You haven’t asked?” Lois said, sounding more surprised than Clark thought that deserved.
“Well, he tends to be more subtle about things,” Clark said, trying not to sound too defensive.
“So?” Lois asked.
“So?” Clark repeated, confused.
“So, why are you playing to his strengths and not to yours?” Lois said, smiling warmly. “The direct approach is basically your pièce de résistance.”
Clark blushed a little, not knowing if he should be flattered or insulted. “Well I-”
“Seriously Clark, just ask him what’s wrong. You’ll find out faster that way.” Lois turned back to frown at her computer, the issue already resolved in her mind.
And Clark supposed it really was. If he wanted to know what was wrong, if anything was wrong, the best way to know was to ask. Even if the idea scared him more than any villain, monster or intergalactic threat he had ever faced.
After work Clark headed straight to the Manor. Alfred answered his knock and informed him that Bruce was in the Cave. His look seemed to demand, in that polite Alfred way, what had taken Clark so long. Clark gave him an apologetic smile in return.
Coming down the stairs Clark didn’t bother calling ahead. He found Bruce already in the Batsuit, checking something on the monitors. Rather than come up beside him like normal, Clark stood back. Whether he wanted to give Bruce space or himself, he didn’t know.
There was silence, interrupted only by the soft click of the mouse. Bruce didn’t turn, didn’t speak, didn’t acknowledge Clark at all. Clark felt his hands shaking and curled them into fists.
The only way to know was to ask he reminded himself, before taking a long, steadying breath and speaking.
“Why are you avoiding me?” Clark demanded, proud of himself for not letting his voice break.
Bruce still didn’t turn around, didn’t stop clicking. Clark felt his fear start to mutate into frustration. “Is it because we’ve had sex? Are you just. Done with me now? Do you not-” he hesitated, hating the cliche but needing to ask, “Do you not… respect me anymore?” His voice grew quiet as he said it.
Bruce stiffened, his clicking stopped. Slowly he drew his hands into his lap, seeming to recede into himself. His cape settled around him like a protective barrier.
“Or do you think I want too much now?” Clark kept hammering, hoping to find a crack in Bruce’s armour. A point of entrance that would let him into Bruce’s head. “I worked so hard to make sure everything went back to normal, to make sure I didn’t make you uncomfortable. I would never do anything to risk our friendship, I would never ask you for something you didn’t have to give.”
“Do you think that I’m going to demand you love me romantically? That our friendship is somehow not enough now? It’s enough, Bruce. It will always be more than enough. Because I love you in every way you can love a person and as long as you’re in my life, I’m satisfied.”
Clark ran a hand through his hair, frustrated at his rambling. Frustrated that Bruce still hadn’t moved, hadn’t turned, hadn’t done anything other than retreat even further into himself. “I didn’t want to push you away. I want you to be a major part of my life, for the rest of my life. I want everything you can give me.”
“But somehow I have pushed you away. I’ve done something to make you uncomfortable or angry or disappointed.” Clark gave a dispirited laugh. “Or all three. But I can’t fix it if you won’t talk to me.”
“Please Bruce,” and now his voice did break. After all he had managed to say, it gave out in this last plea, “Please let me fix it. I need you.”
The silence was huge, heavy, absolute. The last echo of Clark’s voice was teased out of the molecules of air until nothing of them remained. And still Bruce sat silent and unmoving. Still Bruce hadn’t turned to look at Clark.
Clark felt his heart breaking. Whatever he had done, there was no fixing it. There was no going back, there was nothing left for him to save. Clark was going to have to live without Bruce. The impossibility of it was more than he could stand.
Then Bruce hitched a loud breath and Clark realised he had been barely breathing throughout the entire tirade. He had been sitting motionless, huddled into himself, almost holding his breath. Something like hope started to curl in Clark’s chest.
“I didn’t know how you did it,” Bruce said, his voice low and almost stunned, as though the sound of his own voice was surprising, “How you could go back to how we were before so easily. I didn’t know how to just. Unknow how you sound. How you taste.”
Clark felt a shiver of desire travel up his spine. He heard Bruce’s heart rate pick up.
“I couldn’t move on, but you did. Straight away. You were so ready to get back to our friendship as it had always been. And I was stuck. I didn’t know how to. To be around you. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship by being stuck on a hookup. I didn’t want to pressure you by being so obviously,” Bruce’s voice hitched as he said, “So obviously in love with you. I didn’t want to take advantage of your kindness.”
“But it was hard. Too hard.” Bruce let out a watery sounding laugh. “So I distanced myself. I couldn’t trust myself not to manipulate you into a sexual relationship, a romantic relationship, even though I knew that’s not what you wanted. I pushed you away so you wouldn’t end up hating me.”
Finally Bruce turned around. His cowl was down and his eyes were misty, much as Clark’s were. Clark studied that well loved face and saw the raw honesty there. He sniffed hard, breath hitching. Bruce blinked rapidly.
Then Clark giggled.
He felt the laughter welling up in him and didn’t stop it. It felt like a lifetime since he had been able to laugh. Bruce caught it as well. Then they were giggling together like children. It grew and grew until they were laughing outright. They laughed together, long and relieved. The tears spilled, a mix of humour and sorrow and disbelief that it had worked out this way.
“We are such idiots,” Clark said, between gales.
Bruce wiping his eyes said, “How did we even manage this?”
They calmed, smiling and shaking their heads in disbelief.
Clark moved towards Bruce, feeling his heart rate pick up, hearing Bruce’s do the same. He stopped in front of Bruce’s chair, merely watching. Knowing they were together in this, there was no urgency.
Bruce stood. Chest to chest they leaned into one another, feeling the combined force of their heartbeats, almost perfectly in time. Bruce brought one gauntlet to his mouth, pulled it off with his teeth, let it drop to the floor heedlessly. The other was removed the same way. Clark licked his lips, anticipating. Barriers removed, Bruce's hands were bare.
Finally free to touch.
Bruce reached up, cupped Clark’s face between both hands. He rubbed thumbs over Clark’s cheekbones, watching the movement as though amazed he was actually, finally , touching. He ran his hands down Clark’s neck, feeling the pulse thundering there. He continued down, cupped and squeezed Clark’s pecs, teasing the nipples through the fabric of his shirt.
Clark gasped, pressing forward into the touch but Bruce was moving on. His hands travelled down Clark’s stomach, slotted into the cut of his hips. They dragged around to grope and tease Clark’s arse, making him moan. Bruce brought one hand around to rub at the growing hardness at Clark’s crotch while the other pressed a finger into the dip of his crease as much as his slacks would allow.
Clark whimpered, desperate to feel the touch on bare skin. Bruce grinned wickedly. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to feel you,” he said, bending slightly to grip Clark’s thigh, hooking it over his hip. “These fucking legs .”
He squeezed Clark’s thigh savagely, still massaging his cock through his pants. Clark circled his hips at the stimulation, reaching up to grip Bruce’s hair, tilting their foreheads together. “I think I’ve got some idea. If it’s anything like how badly I’ve wanted to kiss you.”
Bruce’s breath hitched. His eyes flicked down to Clark’s lips. They moved at the same time, tilting to press their lips together. Soft, wet, mouths open, tongues twining. Clark clutched desperately at Bruce’s hair, the feeling of Bruce’s endlessly caressing hands making him moan into the frantic press of their mouths.
“Bedroom,” Bruce growled between kisses.
Clark felt his knees actually weaken. Grasping Bruce under the buttocks -it was going to be hard to fly with Bruce any other way now- he flew them both up to Bruce’s bedroom, slightly slower than super speed.
Clark stood them beside the bed, giving Bruce a minute to regain his breath. Once he did Bruce grinned wickedly and yanked Clark’s mouth against his again. Clark felt hands scrabbling at the clasps of the Suit and pulled back, stepped back. Bruce frowned a little but didn’t stop stripping.
“I’ve had so many fantasies of watching you take off that suit,” Clark confessed, watching breathlessly as Bruce’s skin was bared to his hungry eyes.
Bruce grinned again, still stripping. “I wonder if it’s as many as I’ve had of you peeling me out of it with your teeth?” he said as the final pieces fell away.
Clark whimpered, at the idea and at Bruce yanking him close to rub his naked body against his clothes. Bruce reached to Clark’s buttons, began to slowly open his shirt. Clark reached up to help, to hurry. Bruce slapped his hands away.
“I haven’t had a chance to do this yet,” he said, as he undressed Clark with excruciating slowness.
As each part of Clark was exposed Bruce touched. He caressed each piece of skin, pinched and teased. Mouth followed, teeth and tongue, but mostly Bruce touched. He touched each piece of Clark as though it were something precious, as though it were something holy. His expression was one of quiet awe and Clark’s heart felt like it would overflow. His skin hummed under Bruce’s hands, a low song of love and wanting.
Once he was naked Bruce pulled Clark against him, their cheeks pressing close. Clark buried his nose in Bruce’s hair, inhaled deeply. He sighed out his breath and felt a sense of contentment that was almost spiritual. That felt like coming home.
Bruce tugged him to the bed. As Clark lay down, Bruce rummaged in a draw, pulling out a tube of lubricant. The sight of it, and of Bruce’s smirk, made Clark’s heart trip into double speed.
“I’ve wanted to fuck these legs since I met you,” Bruce said, moving over Clark, squeezing his thighs.
Clark moaned, squirmed, nodded. “Do it,” he said.
Bruce slathered Clark’s thighs with the lubricant, sweeping up to stroke his hard cock with the slick. Clark let out a sound that was mostly air as Bruce tugged, smirking down at Clark. Apparently Bruce had been paying very close attention when Clark had masturbated for him. He played Clark like an instrument, coaxing the music of his lust with impeccable certainty.
“You seem to be enjoying having the upperhand ,” Clark said breathlessly.
Bruce paused, his face somehow looking annoyed and amused at the same time. “I am going to kill you,” he said with dry humour, making Clark laugh.
“You really are,” Clark said, still squirming under Bruce’s relentless hand.
Bruce leaned down and kissed him. Clark thought that there could be no better response to his puns.
Bruce lay down beside Clark, grasping himself and pressing close. Clark gasped as he felt the tip of Bruce’s dick trail along the seam between his legs. As Bruce pushed in, he rubbed along Clark’s balls, teased at his crack, made Clark moan.
Pressing their lips together fiercely, Bruce gave a slow thrust. Clark clutched Bruce’s hair, humming into desperate kisses as he squeezed tight. Bruce groaned long and low in his throat, massaging Clark’s thighs, panting against Clark’s lips.
Clark couldn’t stop his hips from rocking as Bruce fucked, grinding his aching dick against Bruce’s abdomen. The flexing of his thighs coaxed hitching gasps out of Bruce as it massaged his cock, gliding through the lube so smoothly.
The tease of Bruce against his crease was driving Clark insane. “God, Bruce,” he gasped frustrated, “I need you inside me.”
Bruce whimpered and nodded, reaching a hand behind Clark to give him the more focused pressure he needed. Quickly, not quickly enough, Bruce slid a finger inside him. Clark groaned gratefully, pressing back against the intrusion, already needing more.
“Please, god Bruce, please,” Clark was muttering, grinding between Bruce’s abs and his fingers.
“Shit,” Bruce cursed. Pushing Clark onto his back he spread Clark’s legs as wide as they would go.
Clark flopped bonelessly, willing and eager to be spread open. He moaned delightedly as Bruce added another finger and a third in quick succession. The press and spread of Bruce’s talented fingers turning Clark into little more than whimpering jelly.
“Fuck, Clark,” Bruce breathed heatedly, “Look at you.”
Clark moaned and stretched, twisting his hips on Bruce’s fingers, grinding down onto his hand.
“I knew you’d look good spread out on my hand.” Bruce gave an almost vicious twist of his wrist making Clark’s eyes roll back.
“Would look even better on your cock,” Clark gasped, wrapping a hand around himself and beginning to tug slowly.
Bruce licked his lips and bent over to suckle at the tip of Clark’s dick. Clark swore at the concentrated suction around the sensitive head. Skillful fingers sought and found his prostate, grinding mercilessly and Clark was gone.
He came thickly into Bruce’s willing mouth, moaning almost helplessly. Bruce leaned back up, swallowing everything, chasing the taste off his lips with his tongue, looking immensely pleased with himself.
“Please fuck me now,” Clark gasped, feeling strewn across the bedspread like wet laundry.
Bruce didn’t say anything, only swiped up the excess lube from Clark’s thighs and coated himself with it. Then he pulled Clark into his lap and pressed forward, a slow and unrelenting slide. Clark let out a breathy moan, clutching at the pillows beneath his head as he was finally breached.
Clark was already half hard again by the time Bruce was settled balls deep inside him. He clutched at Bruce’s back, dragging him down, pressing their lips together in insistent wet kisses. With his tongue buried in Clark’s mouth Bruce began to thrust.
Deep and hard, the sound of Bruce’s hips slapping against Clark’s arse seeming to fill the room, Clark could feel each thrust in his toes. Bruce broke away from the kiss to pant brokenly, tilting their foreheads together, unwilling to give up the closeness.
Bruce circled his hips, grinding against Clark’s sweet spot relentlessly. Clark whimpered, grasping his own nipples and tweaking harshly, needing something to ground him. Bruce hummed appreciatively, pulling back to watch Clark play with his chest, to watch his cock twitch and throb at each twist.
His thrusts speeding up Bruce gasped, “Don’t come yet.”
Clark nodded tightly but he wasn’t sure if he could last as Bruce’s pace grew frantic. As he felt the pulse of Bruce’s release he was sure he was going to lose it.
Bruce crashed their lips together once more, his kisses desperate and almost longing. He shuddered through his orgasm, the gasps between kisses sounding something like Clark’s name. Hips slowing, kisses growing more languid, Clark had managed to hold on through the surge of Bruce’s high.
Clark trembled around Bruce as he gathered his breath. The press of their bellies on either side of his cock was a maddening tease. Bruce lifted up slightly, kissing Clark and teasing his nipples, tweaking and flicking. Clark almost writhed under those talented hands.
“I am so glad your casts are off,” Clark gasped between kisses.
Bruce grinned and ducked down to suck on one nipple, while one of his hands wandered off into the bedsheets. Clark pouted at the loss but couldn’t complain when there were teeth closing gently around his swollen flesh.
When Bruce’s hand came back it held the lubricant. He pulled away completely, grinning some more at Clark’s pathetic whine. He squeezed a generous dollop of lube over Clark’s cock. While Clark gasped at the chill Bruce spread the slick around before climbing from between Clark’s thighs to straddle him.
Realising his intent Clark bit his lip and grasped Bruce’s hips, helping to guide him down onto his cock. Apparently Bruce either didn’t need or didn’t want any preparation and he slid Clark into himself with a pleased hiss.
“You look amazing inside me too,” Bruce said with a self-satisfied smile once he was flush to Clark’s hips.
Clark could only nod helplessly, the tight heat of Bruce’s body stealing his breath away. Unable to keep still he surged up under Bruce, grinding deeper, making him moan deeply. Bruce leaned back on Clark’s thighs, riding him in tight waves.
Clark was so ready to come. He met Bruce’s thrusts with quick snaps of his hips but Bruce just kept to his even, indulgent pace. “Please, Bruce,” Clark begged but Bruce just smiled some more.
Digging his hands into Bruce’s thighs, his hips, his waist, Clark felt his frustration mounting. Then he gave in to Bruce’s pace, letting the urgency unmet add to the growing wave of his orgasm. At his acceptance the pleasure seemed to surge higher immediately.
Bruce laughed, pleased as Clark grew compliant beneath him and began to roll his hips, twisting and circling, determined to drive Clark insane. His own cock was semi-hard. It was too soon for him to grow completely hard again but he chased his pleasure along with Clark.
Reaching up Clark pulled Bruce down into a kiss, the angle giving him a little more control of the pace. Bruce moaned into the kisses, gripping Clark’s nipples again. Clark whimpered as he was so perfectly assaulted by Bruce’s body.
“Pound me,” Bruce gasped against Clark’s lips.
Grabbing around Bruce’s waist Clark thrust up mercilessly, driving into Bruce with heated relief. As Clark reached his peak he felt Bruce clench tight around him. Still not completely hard Bruce reached another climax as Clark reached his.
Clark gasped, his hips snapping into Bruce as he came in deep golden waves into Bruce. Humming his approval, Bruce plucked at Clark’s nipples, kissed him with soft wet lips. The two of them slowed and writhed together, kissing and running hands over sweat soaked skin.
As they came down Clark was awash with so much love he felt as though he were glowing. The way Bruce was smiling into their kisses Clark thought he felt the same.
As Clark softened he slipped free of Bruce’s body, making them both shudder, hitching gasps of disappointment and pleasure. They lay together panting, not willing, not wanting, to move. Then Bruce pushed himself up slightly to look down at Clark, simply wanting to see his face.
Clark smiled up at him and Bruce realised that the smile hadn’t changed. They had confessed to each other and Clark’s smile was still that same warm radiance he had given Bruce almost from the first. And Bruce understood that Clark had loved him for as long as he had been giving him that smile.
His heart swelling in his chest, blocking his throat, Bruce choked out, “I love you, Clark.”
Clark almost melted. To hear Bruce, a man of action over words, speak his love aloud was something Clark treasured almost as much as Bruce himself. “I love you so much, Bruce. I think I always have.”
Bruce gave a short nod and tucked his face into Clark’s neck, sliding his hands under Clark’s shoulders to grip tightly. Clark hugged back just as fiercely, pressing his cheek to Bruce’s. The sun had sunk, leaving them in early evening twilight. Bruce would need to head out for patrol soon.
“You really took charge now your hands are free, huh?” Clark said, not without humour. Bruce grunted but didn’t move. “Is that your preference?”
Bruce grunted again. “That was built up frustration. Anytime you want to spoil me again, please feel free,” he confessed. With a kiss to Clark’s cheek, he added, “I’ll always return the favour.”
Clark grinned and said, “That sounds perfect.”
Bruce smiled at him and settled back down, tucking into Clark’s neck. Their cheeks pressed together again, fitting perfectly, just as they had almost always done.
“Is it bad of me to say I’m happy you broke your arms?” Clark asked without much guilt.
Bruce chuckled and shook his head. “I’m happy you didn’t run away at the sight of my hard-on,” he said.
Clark laughed. “After how long I’d been imagining it? How could I have?”
Bruce laughed and shook his head again, as though he couldn’t believe that Clark had actually wanted him. Still wanted him. Like he couldn’t believe his luck. Clark couldn’t either and he found himself laughing too.
They laughed together softly. Surprised it had turned out this way. Surprised it had taken them this long. Limbs entwined, lying together in the deepening twilight, they listened to each other breathe quietly.
***
“Did you want to go for coffee after this?” Clark asked Bruce as soon as the meeting ended.
Bruce gave a single nod, turning back to shutting down the monitor he had been reading off. Clark smiled at the back of his head and knew by the set of Bruce’s shoulders that he could feel it, that he would have a smile tucked into the corner of his mouth as well.
Clark moved away to wait for Bruce to be finished. As people started filing out Booster Gold stopped next to Clark. Grinning crookedly he commented, “Back in his good graces?”
Clark smiled back and shrugged. “Seems that way,” he said.
Booster grinned, giving him a double thumbs up. “Good for you, Supes. I hate seeing our Work Dads fight.”
Clark laughed with him and waved as he moved off. When he turned back Bruce was approaching. Everyone had left, leaving just Clark, Bruce and the view of Earth spread out before them through the glass wall of the meeting room.
“Ready?” Clark asked as Bruce reached him.
“More than,” Bruce responded, taking Clark’s hand and dropping a casual kiss on his lips.
Clark couldn’t keep the massive, no doubt ridiculous, grin off his face. Bruce’s smile in response was more indulgent but just as pleased. Pulling Clark in by his hand Bruce kissed him again. Clark wrapped his arms around Bruce, humming happily into the press of their mouths.
“Come on,” Clark said with one last peck. “Let’s get that coffee.”
Bruce hummed agreement, entwining their fingers again and tugging Clark towards the door. They headed out that way together.
Hand in hand.