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Bruce couldn’t get that unnerving grin that Lex shot them after the Justice League once again took down his biggest super villain endeavor that week.
Clark dogging at his heels like a neurotic pug with separation anxiety issues as he walked around cataloging the damage the battle wrought on Metropolis did not help his nerves either.
If not for his frequent exposure to Dick’s teary pouts that bore the same if not more emotional potency, Bruce would have let his ridiculous alpha detract him from all necessary work.
He is more than half convinced if they photographed how teary Clark’s baby blues looked each time he tried to put some distance and space between them, Lex and any other rogues operating in Metropolis who saw the photograph would immediately renounce their criminal ways.
He walked around photographing, and videotaping all the sites damaged in the fight he could identify. Then, he returned to the Watchtower to review HD footage of the fight to cross reference to compare them. After what seemed like eons of revisions, he had finally drafted out a satisfactory preliminary budget report for the damages on the Watchtower computer. He stared into Clark’s eyes and tilted his neck, exposing his bonding bite. The speed that Clark closed the distance between them and leaned in for his mandatory post battle scenting would have given poor Wally, an inferiority complex.
Clark dove into his bare neck like a parched man finding an oasis, rumbling happily as he pulled Bruce into his lap as he started typing out reports..
3 hours later
Bruce had finished typing out his report and was only sitting there while Clark nuzzled his neck.
He swore he'd come out of his heats with a much less potent scent of Clarks scent than this one scenting session. His neck was also starting to itch from the repetitive friction of Clarks wrist gland and nose against his neck.
His legs also felt more dead than the time he broke his leg bones into more than 20 pieces and Leslie had him on the most potent pain killers known to men.
The last straw was his bladder giving a warning twinge.
Enough was enough.
He dislodged Clarks arm that was pinioning him to his lap and stood up. He eyebrows furrowed as he heard Clark honest to god whine as he walked away
There had to be a limit right?
The distinctive red boots he spied at the gap below the toilet cubicle door.was everything he needed to confirm his suspicions that something was afoot.
When he came out there was Clark reeking of distress as he shifted his weight from one foot to another.
“I’m so sorry, I just feel like there’s dozens of centipedes crawling under my skin if I can’t touch or see you.”
Bruce swallowed a lump down his throat, his underpants growing wetter at Clark’s raw husky tone. Clark’s eyes appeared almost black, his blue iris contracted to a thin ring of blue that was barely visible to the naked eye. Clark’s usual earthy scent had thickened and gained a hint of musk spreading around the small public toilet visibly heralding his arousal.
Thank god the Kryptonian tech on Clarks suit effectively compressed visual signs of his arousal, the last thing the Justice League needed was the sight of Clark’s fist sized knot.
This almost was similar to…
No, but Clark and him just spent a rut less than a month ago and it should have synced with his heat that was due in the next quarter…
Wait didn’t the footage show Clark being sprayed with a red substance that Bruce had already analyzed? But it didn’t emit the signature electromagnetic frequency of kryptonite but it was close…
Bruce stepped forward as Clark’s arms reached out, Clark was so near that he could feel the intense heat radiating from his body when….
Flash broke in with blood streaming profusely from his nose.
“Where were you? I’ve been running around the whole Watchtower trying to find you two. I ran so fast that I even hit my nose against a door. We need an urgent meeting for unidentified alien spaceships that were flagged by the Green Lantern patrol on the route to earth.”
Bruce shivered as he clenched his teeth and stepped away from Clark, the air in the Watchtower felt practically glacial.
It seemed that against all logic and known facts about kryptonian physiology, Clark was entering into a rut at the best timing possible …
Bruce gave a sigh of relief as he entered the meeting room seeing only Hal, and Shayera in the meeting room.
It seemed like the god he had stopped believing in the presence since that night was looking out for him. It almost made him want to call his old rabbi after 30 years.
Shayera was unable to detect omega and alpha pheromones due to her alien biology. Neither could Hal, even though he was an omega, since he had irreversibly damaged his olfactory nerve during a test flight accident. While Bruce was never one to revel in his teammates injuries, Flash’s temporarily broken nose would at least prevent him from unwillingly taking in the olfactory equivalent of a porn film.
Hal rolled his eyes as Bruce took his seat but started presenting his slides immediately. Bruce was reluctantly impressed by the level of detail Hal put into the presentation. There were detailed pictures and schematics of the alien ship. Even data that the Green Lantern Corp scanners had picked up as the ship passed them by was included.
This wasn’t good, Hal only got this serious when situations were dire.
Bruce tried his level best to pay attention, but all he could focus on were the soft whines Clark kept releasing. The minute motions, imperceptible to anyone but Bruce as he shifted in his chair.
That hint of tears beading at Clark’s eyes, the swollen red lip that he’d bitten to muffle his whines. He wanted to use his tongue to follow that bead of sweat dripping down a loose tendril of hair that escaped from Clark’s usually impeccable hairstyle.
His empty cunt clenched, releasing another glob of slick at the sight of the tendons in Clark’s neck bulging. He pushed his thighs tightly together, trying in vain to relieve the throbbing pressure on his pussy as he watched Clark grind his teeth. Bruce almost whimpered, his omegan cock twitching as he saw Clark's nostrils flare and minute spider cracks spread out from where his hands clutched at the reinforced conference room table.
Bruce's mouth turned dry, he won't blame most alphas for reverting to their most primal instincts by now, except for his lovely mate.
Bruce did not know what he did to deserve such a wonderful partner
Only Clark, only his respectful composed mate can stand to stay still. Even when he was consumed by lust and the inescapable physical urge to pin Bruce down, mount and breed him until he was well and fully swollen with half Kryptonian progeny.
Bruce could almost laugh at the one time he wanted a sparse stripped down vague situation report characteristic to Hal. He had for once prepared enough information that more than adequately met Bruce's usual exacting need for detail.
"Superman, are you ok?"
Clark did not look good, his normal healthy sun bronzed gained a worrying gray undertone.
Bruce fought the urge to fidget as the holograph of his father in law gave him a once over.
"As the omega that my son has chosen and mate bonded, there's something you need to know."
The next few hours Bruce spent sifting through pathology reports of Kryptonian Alphas that entered Musth. A rare rut state where bonded alphas would die if they were deprived of essential contact with their mate.
Ignoring his teammates, Bruce vaulted over the table landing on Clarks lap. Clark immediately stirred his hands grasping Bruce's waist lightly.
That self sacrificial idiot…
Bruce nearly growled out of frustration, instead he took a deep calming breath to center himself. He leaned forward exhaling over the shell of Clark's and lightly nipped it.
"Come on Clark, don't you want to satisfy me?"
Clark panted, his eyes glazed over before he shook his head and turned around to look at all the League member's pale faces in the room before rasping out.
"Not in front of everyone. I won't disrespect you like that."
That foolish martyr
Bruce grinded their groins together, grinning as Clark's heady musk thickened in the air.
Just a bit more
"Clark, you've been holding yourself back for me for so long, now's the time to let go."
Clark roared with that and surged forward. A ripping sound later, Bruce found his thighs bared to the air and his head pressed down on the meeting table.
He tilted his head around huffing a sigh when he did not see anymore League members.
He really hoped someone had the presence of mind to lock the meeting room.
The relief was short lived as Clark thrusted straight into him, bottoming out immediately, tearing a yowl from him.
He shivered, inhaling deeply, despite the copious amount of slick gushing out of him. Clark was simply too well-endowed to enter him painlessly without any preparation.
But what was a slight burn in his groin compared to the hours of discomfort Clark sat through.
"I'm so sorry baby. I just can't control myself."
Even now, his selfless halfwit still…
He reached up, encircling Clarks neck with his hands.
"I'm ok, just go take what you need."
He could only bite his lips as Clark jackhammered into him mindlessly. The initial burn had since subsided and all that was left now was an overwhelming heavy heat that filled him. He jerked, gasping just as Clark's cock grazed his G spot.
That movement caught Clarks attention and he stilled, calm momentarily settling in his wild eyes. Then, Clark shifted and re entered. This time, he could only scream, howl and curse as each purposeful thrust pummeled his G spot.
He could only lock his ankles at Clarks back and cling on for the ride .
With the frenzied pace Clark had set, it didn't take long before Bruce felt the familiar stirrings of his climax set in. He whimpered softly as the pleasure radiating from his cunt built up to a fevered pitch before he finally came.
Clark bent down, clamping his teeth around the bondbite as he forced his swelling knot in.
That bite utterly undid, Bruce as his omegan cock spurted. He sobbed utterly lost in the pleasure so intense it bordered pain as Clark stroked his spent omegan cock.
Finally an obscene pop , and Bruce wailed as the knot breached his bruised slit. He could only sit there quivering, the aftershocks from the orgasms he just had hitting him harder than that time Bane punched him.
His toes curled as warm come filled him. He could only lay there, panting raggedly as Clark lapped the blood dripping from the bondbite.
"Musth might take several days up to a week to peter off."