Chapter Text
A/N: I blame all of you for this, I used to be normal. If you enjoyed, feel free to visit my other works, they’re all just as crazy as this one…god I hope no one here knows who I am.
If you want to consider this as cannon to my series, what the hell, why not. You either die young or live long enough to see yourself become George Lucas and never stop editing your stuff in the background. There are just so many ideas to pull from on this site.
I present to you: the obligatory crazy ass, plotless, over the top, close encounters alien sex scene where all fetishes come to die in a glorious mess…
*********
To say they had been dancing around one another as just acquaintances would be an understatement. To say they had been dancing around each other as partners in every sense of the word would be too. Putting aside politics and procedure and even the safety of the world they fought so hard for in favor of their growing bond was beyond selfish as far as either of them were concerned. This made it all that much more difficult to ignore and their collision all the more inevitable.
Lois was gone, had been for so long after all that had happened; moved on alongside him, no matter that he saw her every day at work. Maybe it was really just better that way, he couldn’t imagine how Lois would have reacted to- well; him. Selina had been Bruce’s foil and by now she was convinced he was insane, his day job alone had ruined the rest of it…let alone his gaggle of nervous Robins.
So here they sat, side by side at the head of one of Wayne Manor’s many guest beds, Clark mesmerized by bright silver irises just over a thick line of black greasepaint.
It was large room, deceptively opulent in every way that Bruce’s real bedroom wasn’t and framed by the rising sun through massive ornate glass windows. Bruce leaned on the pillows next to Clark, a long night’s patrol finally over, one more near death experience to add to his collection. Clark had been adamant about patching up his minor wounds… and, well, one thing led to another as it often did.
A touch bled into a shy kiss and whispered self-recriminations, kissing led to wanton making out, and that led to out-of-control frottage which had led them all to the here and now. To time spent staring at acres of pale skin, the warzone that was Bruce’s body, all scars and old stitchwork; it was a testament to Bruce’s mission, to his life’s work. Every square inch of it was a gift to Clark himself. Bruce was naked from the waist up and Clark eyeing him like a teenaged virgin with a crush. It was endearing but it was also indicative of insecurity, and Bruce was tired of watching Clark isolate himself from the rest of the world.
“Well then, out with it, what are you hiding Kent?” The question was unavoidable, he knew it. He wanted Bruce, truly, and knew that to do so he would have to be truthful. There were only so many times you could bail on the world’s best make out session with a raging erection the second your partner eyed you below the belt. “It’s um… it’s not normal B’.” Bruce just stared at him. He had a way of saying a lot without ever actually speaking a word.
With a hitching breath Clark bared himself completely, pushing his pants and boxers down and off, red in the face with shame and an atavistic terror of rejection. He’d known that Bruce wouldn’t miss something like this, known that he would be measured and judged in ways he’d tried so hard to hide from. When flaccid Clark’s dick was unremarkable save for his large size and a bit of color and shape… but when erect the differences became unignorable. Bruce looked up at him from the bed, eyes begging to touch as Clark nodded his assent. Long scarred fingers full of calluses traced the flared, overlarge head of it, dribbling some kind of thick, clear precum from his messy slit and hole. It was long, ridged, a startling combination of purpling reds and blues, and so much of it clearly not human.
And he was massive.
-Oh-
Bruce licked his lips.
Clark was no stranger to sex but until now he had always hidden himself with a condom; it was always a rather lackluster affair for him anyway, and never once had he pursued someone he might- Bruce was looking at him like he’d been given some kind of gift, marveling at the tensile strength of its upward curve and the veins and folds of skin along his base, leading to his impressively sized balls. Clark shuddered, hiding his face in his shoulder as his partner, the only partner that ever mattered, watched him with naked curiosity.
With all that it could cost him, Clark wasn’t all that eager for the spasm of a decent orgasm.
Blue nodes of light fluoresced beneath Bruce’s fingertips, constellations and fishbone patterns shining turquoise with expectation. It was what Bruce had named the ‘Constelliatory Network’, a system of ducts and nodes designed to capture, condense, and transport light energy through his body. It flared along his hips and golden-tanned skin, trailing down to his cock into dim specks of light. Bruce could only ever think of it as beautiful and openly gaped with awe whenever it shone for him. Clark couldn’t help but turn all the colors of sunset, fidgeting under Bruce’s blank scrutiny.
“.....That's it?”
“What do you mean 'that's it'?”
“What on god’s green earth made you want to hide this? What, is it radioactive or something? Does it peel down like a damn banana or work as a prehensile appendage? Nothing of the much speculated tenta-cock?” Bruce was smiling, forcing a laugh out of Clark. Here he was freaking out over being a freak, yet somehow it just wasn't freaky enough to unsettle Bruce, the freaking Batman. He should have known better. “I’ve done some reading since I found the Fortress, so no, it’s not radioactive.” Bruce hummed, his interest piqued as he took hold of Clark's cock. “Whole internet forums the world over will be so utterly disappointed.” It was supple yet muscular, plush beneath his blunt fingers where small dimples became more exaggerated with its slow stiffening. “Wait- nternet forums? Speculating about my dick? What the hell B'?” Bruce scoffed, he was a long time lurker on every media by job description and sometimes he just got masochistic with whiskey and surfed. So sue him. He'd cracked quite a few cases doing that... They were pretty close to accurate on the size estimate though. “I almost wonder if there are more prominent nodal clusters connecting into your primary nervous system… I’ll have to get that blacklight back up and running to see…” Bruce trailed off, rubbing some of the thin secretions between his fingers as they seeped from his dimpled cock in earnest. “I’m guessing even Kryptonians didn’t escape the backwards cultural cockblock about sex.” Clark nodded, blushing as Bruce’s ministrations made him thicken, dick twitching. “I, um, c-condom? I mean-” Bruce snorted. “You’re not hiding this gem from me. Unless you’ve picked up some alien STD or there’s some appropriately vague brute-forced pseudoscience that means you can knock me up?”
Only a Gothamite could look at alien biology and only be concerned about that. Clark snorted again, this time full out laughing, the tension seeping out of his shoulders. “No, I don’t think I have, and I can’t get you pregnant either. We were all practically sterile.” Bruce responded by capturing his mouth into another long bout of kisses, god he was terribly good at them, pushing him down onto the mattress and into the tangle of silk sheets below. Fisting his cock, Bruce pulled back for a breath and watched him harden further. “God you’re big. I’m going to need more lube- I want samples of this too. It’s definitely a surfactant and probably either protein-rich or maybe oil based…” He cut off his own rambling, Clark too frazzled to follow what he was saying. If the son of a bitch started focusing on analyzing him now of all times- really though, what the hell was he expecting. Rao knows, he was probably getting off on it if the bulge in his ridiculously expensive slacks was anything to go by.
Bruce leaned over the bed, reached into the middle drawer of the nightstand, and pulled out a fancy bottle of expensive lube as a roll of condoms spilled out. Clark could feel the tips of his ears going red, giving his partner an embarrassed look. For once, Bruce actually looked taken aback. “I, I try to only screw around when I have to for my cover.” He sighed, for the first time, showing his regret on his face.
Clark wondered jealously, just how many people had been afforded the height of luxury that is Bruce Wayne. The zenith that was Bruce, outside the persona of the Bat and Brucie.
“By the way, yes, Cat’s right. I’m bi… just, gotta keep up with appearances, you know.” Sex was dangerous when you had too many scars to explain and were strong enough to do lasting damage. Bruce let go of his cock to sweep an arm to encompass the room they were in. It really did fly in the face of Bruce’s more private, spartan preferences. Clark chuckled ruefully; the part of mild-mannered pushover was a pain, he couldn’t imagine managing the ‘Brucie’ persona for any length of time. He smiled genuinely and gladly, all sense of dread removed from his features as he pulled Bruce down into another searing kiss. The sound of a cap opening and the squelch of lube got him somehow harder.
Clark could feel the man reaching behind himself, following his scarred hands with his own, his erection nested next to Bruce’s between their bodies as the kisses deepened. “Are you- are you sure you want to-?” The feel of Bruce undulating on top of him, stretching himself impatiently, had a way of pushing his thoughts straight out of his head. “No way, I want that thing in me, Kal.” Bruces response was a growl and a thrust of tongue, pushing his slacks down farther as he fingered himself open. “B’ you can’t say stuff like th-hat-” Several minutes of seemingly endless fondling and lewd open-mouthed kisses finally ended with a gasp. Bruce had gone from one finger to two, hissing into Clark’s mouth and working himself up to three fingers.
“God it’s been a while.”
Clark felt, under such circumstances, even Superman did, in fact, need to breathe. His cock felt heavy, flush with color and slick with that viscous something, Bruce parting from him to pull back and fit his hands around him. The man was a panting mess, chest flushed red, naked and looking like the front page of a porno magazine. His body was on fire with the sunlight streaming in from the windows, all sculpted muscles and old scarring. It made Clark’s mouth water at the sight and his heart squeeze with want, easing a finger, then two, into Bruce’s entrance as he shivered in the morning light. His fingers felt as though consumed by an inferno and crushed together no matter how much the other was trying to prep himself.
Yes, Clark wanted very much to be inside that.
For a long few moments, Clark watched Bruce lubing himself up on his alien dick, running the slick hardness of it between his cheeks to tease him. Clark couldn’t help but press the fluid into his hole, the fear of rejection, for the first time in ages, set aside in favor of pleasure.
What happened next had Clark’s brain melting out of his ears.
Bruce took Clark’s alien cock, thick as four fingers from all his teasing, lined himself up, and sank down with an absolutely gutted groan. The man was fucking huge, the stretch unkind and unrelenting, an intrusion enough to hurt and leave him begging for more.
“Jesus fu- gah- B’!” Clark grabbed him by the hips, helping to control his descent and cussing a litany with him. The slide down was pretty smooth all things considered, Clark’s cock easing the way with thick secretions that prickled on his skin. Slowly, Bruce hilted himself on his cock, sweat dripping down his back, god the man was tight, hot as a furnace on him. It took every part of Clark’s control not to buck up into that decadent heat, throwing his hands out to tangle his fists in the sheets. “Now, now. None of that Sunshine.” Bruce smirked down at him, bending down to reach out and run slick palms down his arms and gather Clarks hands in his. He used that forward motion to raise himself up for a quick bounce on Clarks cock that had them both seeing stars. Bruce shuddered from head to toe, Clark trapping his hands in his own and resting them both back on Bruce’s hips to still him. “You’re going to hurt yourself B’ and then you’re going to snap my dick off. Take it easy, g-got it?” Bruce struggled a bit before conceding, pain was all fun and games until the stitches came out. He rocked petulantly, enjoying the other’s fullness inside him, until he could move more freely. Besides, Clark releasing his hands to run his own reverently up Bruce’s chest was entertainment enough.
For now.
As the sun rose above the horizon their movements became more frantic, kisses made sloppy as Bruce bounced on his cock and rutted his balls against his pelvis. It was messy, their cries getting louder, fueled by urgency and impending orgasm, and everything Bruce had ever hoped for or dared imagine. Before he even knew it, Clark had flipped him onto his back, his hands clutching at the muscles of his shoulders and giving in to physical want. Not long after, the Kryptonian was finally beating into Bruce’s ass with abandon. Thank fuck, such a service top, he almost snickered at the thought, too caught up in raucous sex as the pace picked up and nailed him to the mattress in all the best ways. Clark must have finally given in to the chase for release, neck and neck with Bruce. The obscene sound of skin on skin filled the room, the rising urgency behind each jackhammer thrust slapping his ass red. Clarks cock seemed to thicken inside him, warm fluids turning deliciously hot, and it wasn’t long before Clark hit him dead on in the sweet spot, Bruce groaning and clenching and panting. “Fuuuuck, r-right- ah- there-”
It was marvelous.
The world, for Clark, was a heat haze of a kind of neediness he just wasn’t used to. It felt like he’d been basking in the glow of a newborn star; all electricity and biological urges he couldn’t pin down. Bruce was his great enigma; the one man that could make him feel as tall as mountains or as small as an insect pinned to a board. For Bruce, Clark was an unobtainable ideal walking in human shape, someone that made the impossible slog of his life feel like something that might actually work out. Now, with Bruce beneath him, Clark felt like he’d caught up to the horizon and had the moon itself in his hands. Their friendship was tentative, their relationship as lovers was entirely new and with Bruce finally in his grasp; to touch and kiss and love and- it made his heart pound and his guts roil like-
Clark looked completely wrecked, almost disassociated, like something important had been knocked loose from his brain mid thrust-
Something was happening, he could feel a swell in Clarks cock rutting up against his hole, watching the man go wild eyed and crimson, as if he’d realized he’d made some kind of awful mistake. He was sweating, pupils wide, and breathing hard as he seemed to hunch over and draw into himself.
Clark could feel his abdominals clenching, feel the molten heat of his insides coalescing just above his navel. It was intense, ripping a cry straight from his breast, the most visceral thing he’d felt in years. That heat poured downward through his pelvis, soaking into his cock as his balls drew up in the spasms of his thighs, mindlessly rutting into Bruce; he couldn’t have stopped if he’d tried. He felt it traveling down, down, down past his hips as something swelled in him, scraping its way through a muscular passage to join with the urethra just under his bladder. It expanded further, gouging its way through his prostate and sending bolts of pleasure straight up his own asshole. It was indescribable, he’d never felt anything like it, and it was impossible to stop, more small shapes prodding at that strange passage. If he’d been more able to actually think beyond what had to be the world’s longest electrical shock, he would have recalled the Fortress’ data crystals and medical texts, would have recalled the names of those leftover structures. As it was, there was nothing Clark could do but hold on for dear life to the sheets as his body convulsed and ultimately betrayed him. Like some part of him had given way, that mass dropped down as fiery heat and poured through him, determined to cut its way through his dick and dragging the hooks it had seeded into his guts with it. Finally, cradled just below his cock, the thing squeezed up and in.
The sensation was extraordinary.
Clark had taken many lovers but never once had it happened during a coupling.
It wasn’t supposed to be possible with an unapproved external caste, let alone a non-Kryptonian mate!
Clark couldn’t even see straight, his abdominals undulating, reduced to mindlessly bucking his hips and panting, breath a heat haze in the morning sun. Bruce, on the other hand, was fairly certain something unusual was happening. Years of dealing with Poison Ivy predisposed one to knowing when something was going wonky below the belt.
That thing rutted up against Bruce’s rim, whatever it was, forcing itself through his hole and into him with a thrust and a jerk to continue on its way- its way up through Clarks engorged cock- how was he so big!? It felt like his hole was on fire, electricity shooting up his lower back as wave after wave of undulating muscle pushed some kind of growing intrusion through the cradle of his pelvis. It burned, he felt his hips might crack open, and it was the best damn thing he’d ever felt in his life!
Clark had to do something, anything that might distract Bruce from the obscene violation that his own body was gearing up for. He just had to-
Bruce looked at his belly, watched the muscles and skin clench and ripple and- glow? Jesus, he could see himself bulge with every thrust, feel something oozing into him in hot viscous gushes that zinged pleasure across every nerve. Clark moaned long and bucked hard, pressing into him desperately, rambling nonsense in broken Kryptonian words that made no sense. The man’s gaze was fixated onto his abdomen, into his abdomen.
With his vision, Clark could see the mass of the thing, the culmination of his alien unbelonging, press divinely up to his cockhead and rut its way across Bruces prostate. The poor man probably had no idea what was happening. He finally gets Bruce in arms reach and his disgusting alien heritage was going to rip it away from him!
This shouldn’t even be possible; the organ systems were decommissioned from the standard genotypic templates centuries ago!
Just a little further, he just had to make it too good to- to realize what was happening. Clark was in full desperate control, pushing Bruce into the bed, the man folding over into a mating press and holding onto Clarks shoulders for dear life. Every thrust punched the breath clean out of him, Clark kissing and tonguing at his lips to devour every sound. He couldn’t stop; he couldn’t stop-
“Ah, ah…” One thrust, then another…almost there… almost… “ Ah…ah, C- ah…”
The thing lodged in Clarks cock exaggerated the ridged texture of it, adding a kind of girth to it that scoured and stretched Bruce’s insides with every thrust. Clark tried to stop it, tried to deny the things path inside him, that awful bump only ever swelling as he clenched to forbid it. Finally, the thing pushed its way out from the tip of his cock with a hot gush of something that had Clark knotting up, rigid with pleasure and digging his fingers into himself- fuck, it was so intense, he’d never thought a contraction could feel this good. He shook with it, the mass popping out of him fully and into the warm tight depths of Bruce’s body as he moaned hoarsely and sobbed.
That heat, that- cum?- tingled as something big fucked its way into him, Clark going wide eyed and rigid above him. His insides seemed to ripple, a solid lump nestling in his core with a splash of magma and extasy. It was hot and heavy and made him moan and squirm on Clark’s cock. He was oversensitive; had he come already and not realized it? Whatever it was made the room spin, made him dopey with lust as his body let go, muscle melted and loose in strange ways, and he could swear he saw some kind of light. His gut swelled a bit, warm satisfaction lighting him up as his eyes rolled up with pleasure. It was the best thing he’d ever felt and he needed Clark to do that to him for the rest of his life. His erect dick bounced against the bump forming in his abdomen, trailing precum as the thing inside him jostled and knocked into his prostate. He rocked his hips drunkenly, actively seeking out the strange stimulation inside him, hilting himself on his partners overlarge cock like he belonged there.
“B’, I’m- I’m gonna-” Bruce forced him onto his back, grinding himself onto his lover’s inhuman cock, feeling the size of it in his guts and the girth split him open; it was so good. He curled his thick thighs around Clark with a snarl, holding him deep inside as he felt the man’s swollen cock pulse in him.
There would be no pulling out.
Heat filled him from top to bottom, thick and sultry as he moaned long and loud and came all over himself. He was all but insensate, bouncing on Clark’s cock with abandon as he watched the man writhe and sob, delirious with release. “Oh god- oh Rao- oh- oh!” Clark looked somewhere between mindless bliss and electrocuted mess, cum turning sticky and blue. Bruce didn’t look that much better, cumming hard and seed spilling in spurts as that thing in him thudded into his prostate and Clarks ridged, gushing cock messily rutted into every nerve along his walls.
It felt like it would never end.
Eventually, their orgasm tapered off, the both of them messy as they lay together, Bruce leaking bright blue despite being stuffed full on Clark’s cock. The brightness all but glowed and the faint outline of something could be seen in Bruce’s abdomen. They were both just too fuck-drunk to think about it at this point.
His back and hips were sore, his belly was full, as though he’d eaten the most delicious hot meal at some point; he felt five shots of whiskey into a long night and loved every second of it. Bruce hummed to himself as they lay together, the whole thing was bizarre… even more so with how thoroughly arousing the foreign process had been. His hole ached, slick with Clarks strange cum all but plugging him up, dribbling in an arc across the bed as they separated and he rolled to lay on his side.
He rested there for a bit, watching the ceiling spin as his bones turned to rubber.
Eventually, spurred on by drunken curiosity, Bruce leaned over despite the bump of his belly and the strange sensation of Clarks release still sloshing in his guts. Clark was still pretty out of it, a boneless sweaty heap, and Bruce took shameless advantage to further examine him. Bruce laid himself across his thighs, nose nudging into the man’s still-erect shaft. The ridges had flared out further, secreting some kind of natural lubricant that buzzed and tingled where he touched it, effectively cleaning him off. He could almost hear Kelex admonishing him in the back of his mind; sex having become all but taboo for Kryptonians after the cloning initiative.
Damn shame.
The strangely big slit of his cock was still messy with release, tasting sweet and sticky like honey on his tongue as he explored with small licks. All things considered, it wasn’t all that alien really; a larger and more flexible urethra, with exaggerated musculature and girth. It was most definitely connected to the Constelliatory Network, vestigial nodes appearing as small, bright blue specks of light. No wonder Clark turned into a living flashbang when prodded enough, he was lit up like the night sky as it was. Bruce could feel the electric charge on his teeth for heavens sake. It made the dusky colors of his dick all the more beautiful for it.
They’d have to do this again sometime… with a stopwatch and an EMG…
Bruce eyed his insensate partner deviously, a grin spreading across his drunken features. He leaned down, moaning unashamedly as whatever was still inside him weighed heavily on his prostate. Thrusting mindlessly never felt so good and his cock throbbed a thin arc of cum, the pressure on his bladder making his movements more urgent.
Somewhere in the ether of his mind, Bruce felt he should be more worried about this…
He started sucking, sloppy, and swallowed the man in one searing gulp, his dexterous tongue finding every ridge and vein and texture, adding pressure and running his teeth along the top. Clark’s eyes popped open, bright cobalt blazing as he came back to his senses with a cry of surprise. Clarks breathing picked up into a gallop, writhing with nothing but Bruce’s name on his tongue. He grabbed the sheets with one hand, ripping them clumsily, and dug his fingers into Bruces hair with another.
The sweetness of Clark’s spend and that lubricant, he decided, indicated a nutrient dense secretion of some kind… He puzzled, tonguing along the shaft in his mouth, a dozen hypotheses already jockeying for what was left of his thoughts.
Bruce, nose pressing into the man’s dark bushel of hair, greedily took him deeper, like he’d never even heard of a gag reflex. He snaked his arms under Clark to take hold of his ass, digging into the muscle and manipulating the cant of his hips to take him deeper still. Clark was thrusting on instinct alone now, the muscle of his body rippling in spasms and knocking against Bruce’s teeth with each press into him.
“Bruce- I- ah- wait!” The planes of his chest had flushed all the way up his neck to his cheeks, his nipples hard despite warm bedsheets and sunlight. Clark had a beautiful body, something Bruce knew he would never get enough of. Watching that body move was enough to make him come for days, turned his spine to water and his skin hot. He felt knots forming in his belly, his own cock pushing at his thigh at the sight, vaguely surprising him as it was normally too soon for him to get hard again. Clark pulling his short-cropped hair had goosebumps racing up his arms, and the depth he’d taken the man made his spine tingle. Finally, Clark gave in completely to the urges of his body, thrusting with a sobbing moan, fucking Bruces throat hard with that ridged monster of a cock that felt better than any sex toy ever made.
Took him long enough.
There it was again, a throb and a bulge and then the sensation of heat pouring down his throat like hot syrup. Something pressed against his lips as he sucked over Clark’s cock, forcing his jaw open further as the swell of it bullied its way past his teeth and into his mouth. His pallet ached as some great gelatinous bulge spilled over his tongue, Clarks cum pooling with his saliva, overflowing to dribble down his chin. The mass of it pushed into the back of his throat to be swallowed, popping out of Clark's cockhead with a decadent moan. Bruce, unable to reject the thing, swallowed hard, painfully, luminous cum dripping from his mouth as the muscles of his throat engulfed the fleshy intrusion whole. The sensation was unmistakable this time, definitely not imagined, as the muscles of his neck worked to swallow it down completely. There were tears in his eyes, the thing must have been massive, its form compressed by the confines of Clarks cock and his own throat. It moved down his esophagus in lurching waves, a lump that wormed its way down his neck and tumbled from the tubular passage into his stomach in one great heaving gulp. The bump of that strange mass of light settled into him, choking him with viscous slickness that oozed its way over his tongue and into his guts until his very belly bulged and bloated. Bruce gasped for air through his nose, gagging, Clark still all but oblivious to the situation.
With a long absolutely gutted groan, Clark finally came down his throat in spasms, his throbbing cock swollen with want. It was a surprising amount of cum, choking him further, spilling past his lips in hot spurts as he pleasured the man through his orgasm.
Swallowing and swallowing, tasting salty sweet and intense heat, Bruce made sure to get every drop he could. It was delicious, Ivy herself would have been proud, and it filled him with heat, like hot bourbon after the coldest night’s patrol, causing a full body shiver in all the best ways.
Bruce let go of his ass and pulled off of his cock teasingly, slowly, with a messy pop. The intrusion nestled in his stomach turned its contents bright and hot, warming his chest like alcohol and making his fingers and toes tingle.
Clark, opening his eyes, saw the mass and despaired.
“Oh god…”
Bruce was looking at himself curiously, playing with Clark’s spill between his fingers with a drunken smile. Clark’s… quirks had often been a problem throughout his life, making staying hidden among humans difficult. He had super strength, super hearing, didn’t feel pain or get injured or get sick… and his cum goddamn glowed in technicolor.
And apparently… he laid eggs…
Looking down at his neck and chest, Bruce could see a shimmering opaline shine beneath his skin, snaking along his neck and shoulders and even his chest like a veil of liquid gold. His lips and tongue were messy with it, his stomach full with it, and his esophagus a bright line of blues and golds. Bruce glowed with all the colors of dawn; he was on fire with them.
Even worse, Clark could see the golden glow of a bright… egg. Bruce, had an egg in his stomach and another nestled deep in his intestines.
If someone had stopped Superman one day to tell him that Kryptonians were like oviparous hermaphrodites, he’d have hand delivered them to the nearest psych ward… That it had been a holographic projection of his father, Jor-El, to finally give him that talk hadn’t been in the least bit comforting.
Bruce raised an eyebrow at him with a tilt to his head, massaging his much-abused throat as the endorphin laced acid trip began to subside.
“Fucking hell, Bruce- I-” Clark had turned beet red to the point that Bruce could almost have laughed. But he couldn’t, because he’d definitely swallowed something very different from semen. “I- it’s an El-Ehl… I’m so sorry ‘B, it never should have happened. Shouldn’t be possible…” The look on Bruce’s face was not one of condemnation, carefully blank yet beseeching in nature. He wasn’t exactly up for talking just yet, that lone eyebrow raising higher. “I’m, I’m an alien…” Those words had never been so painful before. “We um, before the cloning process, we implanted our genetic material within the host body of our mate. It should only be possible with our own kind and our own caste, the implanted material combining with our chosen mate’s DNA before gestating in a temporary, self-made womb.” Bruce’s other brow went up now, he was being startlingly patient all things considered.
His partner, though, looked about ready to burst into flames.
Clark somehow managed to turn even redder, waving his hands frantically. “NO! -no, it can’t get you pregnant or anything and it’s not radioactive or whatever. The- the things aren’t even viable without an approved Kryptonian template’s input, they’re infertile and they just break down over time. God ‘B, I am so sorry this happened, I tried to stop it- I- it shouldn’t be possible!” Clark covered his face with his hands, utterly miserable as Bruce lowered his gaze back to the orb of light in his stomach, shining through his skin as he pressed his hand to himself. “I… I understand if you want me to leave- if-” Clark had to stop himself, red faced and scared, he still didn’t miss Bruce’s expression.
“I like it.”
For a long moment, Clark couldn’t believe his own ears.
Eventually Clark just did the only thing he could think of and surged forward to kiss him silly, crying tears of relief, Bruce cutting off any further apologies with his amazing tongue. It was an amazing thing, after all, to be so wholly accepted in every facet of his being. He could taste himself on Bruce, the electric buzz of his spend marking the man as sure as any hickey would. “Besides, would have enjoyed a few more birds in my empty nest…”
Clark could have gotten hard again right then and there, but he’d have to find a way to speak with Jor, to make sense of how this happened. Was it because of Clark, his being non-standard?
Or was it Bruce, who was just too perfect on so many levels?
Bruce on the other hand, was far too invested in this as it was; it had no right to be so hot but Bruce had never been normal about much of anything really. Gotham had a way of doing that to a man.
From a glance, he would guess the egg was about the size of a small grapefruit when fully decompressed, comprised of albumen-like proteins used to protect the genetic material inside. That copious blue cum-like fluid was probably a growth medium designed to help with genetic cross exchange. The clear, sticky sweet mucus-like ‘precum’ he’d seen must function as a surfactant and then a plug, to keep the implanted material inside to be processed into an embryo and a womb. Not to mention, it most definitely had sensitizing, aphrodisiac-like qualities. It puzzled him that, without whatever stimulation had prompted this turn of events, nothing too different from normal human copulation had happened during Clark’s previous trysts. Bruce ached for a microscope, for the Fortresses data crystals and his very own egg to study. Preferably outside of his body… with several others nestled inside of him in a nice little clutch to keep warm.
Even with the unusual results, this had been hands down the best sex of his life. An additional scientific quandary was just icing on the cake as far as he was concerned.
“I want to see them.”
It fascinated him endlessly, Clarks palms spread over that bump of his belly as if to feel that he’d been successfully bred, to make sure there was no chance their union hadn’t taken. “And that clear secretion of yours.” Bruce smiled at him, a blush dusting his cheekbones like Clark’s clutch was all he ever wanted.
“I-it’s, it’s some kind of- of, oh god-” How could Clark explain what was happening without sounding like some kind of freak; especially with Bruce putting his hands on his cock - “-a mucus. Stops you up- ah ah- makes a place for it all-”
“Hmmmm… be good and give it to me Kal-” Bruce pushed him back down on the bed, running his messy hole over Clark’s shaft, teasing his cockhead with his entrance before sliding home.
If that wasn’t enough to drive him crazy, nothing would.
“W-want me so bad huh? Want me to fill you up and make that beautiful belly so tight in that suit of yours no one could think you belonged to anyone but me-” He bucked up, both of them quickly losing coherency again.
“Want to be so stuffed? Want to keep my clutch in you, keep them warm for me as you’re stuck in one of those damn business meetings of yours? Watch them eyeball Brucie Wayne, all fucked out and red in the face. I’ll sit under that desk in your office and suck on you, cork you up on my thumb and my cum while you rock on your asshole and shiver.” God help him if he knew where all these obscenities were coming from. He could swear he was fucking his own brains out.
“I can feel you in me, Kal, feel your heartbeat in me, feel- in me, in me- ah- ah! Please Kal!”
The crest of his hips flushed with the bulge of his drawn-up balls, hot and throbbing as bright blue trickled up to bead messily at the head of his dick in hot sticky streams where it sat in Bruce. “F-feel me in you every step you take?” It wasn’t just cum, that pearlescent clear substance slowly turning all the blazing colors of labradorite as one climax bled into another. It was a growth medium, Kelex had said as much, a byproduct of the Growth Codex seeping out to seed life despite a barren genome. It was thick, enhanced Bruce’s pleasure with every orgasm, and was rich in hormones that made his insides burn and his clutch glow golden; awaiting the catalyst that would make him fertile.
Bruce could tell Clark was chock full of it and desperate just by the shape of the swollen muscle below his cock and the enflamed crests of his adonis belt. God, the feel of him, feeling that thick thing pumping load after load into his ass, as if it would somehow stick.
Clark could feel that little bit of pressure in the center of his hips and that final demanding burn, feel his abdominals begging for that last release, god he was so full and he had to- he needed to- Nothing was more important than that bump forming in Bruce’s abdomen and the brightness that set every last one of his nerves on fire. “Please, Kal, give it to me, C-Clark, ah, I can take it, please-” It had been a long time since he’d produced so much and Bruce was all but pregnant with it, moaning and begging as Clarks’ hips stuttered with bruising force against his cheeks. He was gripping hard and there would be evidence of it in the morning, if not outright injuries.
That great mass developed again, bulged its way down, grinding through Clark’s prostate as he cried out, and then up and through to his cock. Bruce moaned as he felt it push against his asshole, slowly being fucked in by his lover’s cock. The ridges of his alien dick once again became exaggerated by the process, scratching and itch Bruce even didn’t know he’d had. Clark sobbed below him, that blue medium trickling from his mate’s overstuffed hole. He fucked in again hard, the bulge of that egg finally popping through Bruce’s abused entrance to continue moving up. Bruce spread his hips wide, the ovoid shape of golden light pressing up thickly through his pelvis in all the best ways.
It wormed its way into him through Clark’s cock, butting up against the messy seal of that tight little something he’d woven into Bruce. Wide eyed, he realized it was working its way into the mass to form a bigger clutch, rearranging and stretching his insides wide. Bruce’s thighs were a mess of strange cum, electricity winding its way up his spine, it was like he could feel the egg in his lungs! Looking down, he could see Clark watching the egg as it moved, enraptured, fucking it in further and further until he felt they both might die. With a convulsion, it squeezed out and into him, expanding as it was freed of the man’s cockhead to nestle in with its twin. He saw his belly form a true bump and the thought of his egg, their eggs, made his legs fall open with a howl and an orgasm.
They lay there panting for a while, wordless, a tangle of limbs and sweat and slick and luminous spill. Clark was all but purring, a heady sound that vibrated in tune with Bruce’s breaths as they kissed each other senseless.
A post-mating reaction designed to cause beneficial vibrations and the release of bonding hormones? Further study would be required to determine the full effects.
They were a total mess, splattered across the bed and tangled together in the bedsheets, clinging to each other like they could never let go. Bruce looked almost three months pregnant and it sent a jolt straight up Clark’s dick, already starting the process of prepping more eggs. It settled in the bowl of his hips, just below his navel, a delicious cramping that left him drooling and moaning even as his erection flagged.
Two eggs glowing in his guts and a third slowly degrading in his stomach, Bruce lifted himself off the other’s cock, his hips hovering over his bulging dick as Clark keened. “That looks painful…” Bruce said with a loopy smile, that thick blazing blue medium dribbling down his thighs to intermingle with his spend and that viscous mucus. “Let me help you with that.” Clark couldn’t get a word in edgewise, and with Bruce bending over his distended belly to take hold of him with both hands there was no reason to even try.
The man was an expert, calloused scarred fingers working in tandem with the strength of his grip, thumbs digging in to tease up a quickly growing lump at the base of his cock. Clark had only ever seen it happen once, crying in the hayloft as a teenager at his parents’ farm, scared by just how alien his body really was. Bruce looked at it like a marvel, pulling away to look at him like a marvel. “Oh Rao-” Bruce licked the strange, flared head of his purpled swollen cock, teasing out more medium and massaging his cock with strong dexterous fingers. Clark could feel some kind of tugging sensation just above his groin, lacing fire up his spine as he spasmed and shouted with impending orgasm. Bruce continued to study him and the emerging egg with that self-satisfied grin that always drove him mad, placing one of his hands on Clarks lower abdomen and kneading his fingers into the mass of- of forming eggs-
The bulge of an egg butted up against Bruce’s slick hand, pushing at his fingers as he changed his grip and worked it upwards through the shaft. Devious as ever, the man leaned in and down to suck at the skin of his perineum and overlarge balls, encouraging the process to move more smoothly. “I’m willing to bet.” He said, between cheeky licks and sucking. “Your prostate and testicular tissues are what makes for that gold coloration and the blue medium.” Clark just scrunched his eyes shut, the once clunky, foreign and inexperienced processes of his body losing their ragged painful edge. “Fuck B’.”
The opening at Clarks slit began to gape, almost as wide as a dime, getting larger and leaking that sweet precum again. Curious, Bruce eased his grip on the others cock, watching the mass move further up, and dipped the tip of his index finger into the hole. Clarks legs jerked out, the muscles of his cock gripping onto Bruces finger before the curve of an egg forced it back. He played with the damn thing, using his finger to push in and work the egg back down his shaft, in and down hard, up and out with a flick to the head. Clark was practically begging at this point, his dick felt stuffed, filled with eggs and cum and his own hot blood. The son of a bitch was going to kill him!
Bruce chuckled low, pushing his index finger all the way in, up to the knuckle, feeling the spasmodic contractions as the other bucked up hard. Clark flung his hands out to grab hold of the mattress again, squeezing his eyes shut, the thing was practically ruined. He didn’t really have the slightest idea what Bruce was doing at this point, in fact, he hadn’t had a coherent thought since this whole thing started.
So no complaints on his part.
Bruce pulled out his finger, took him in both hands, pumped the egg free from his half-hard dick, and watched it pop into his palms with pure scientific glee.
Clark was on a whole other plane of existence at this point, shrieking with release as the egg was finally pushed out.
The egg was supple, fitting easily into his palm, and was slick with blue and gold secretions, making the ovoid shape smooth, warm and tingly to the touch. A rush of hot, bright blue followed the egg, much to Bruce’s delight; about 50mls per contraction if he estimated correctly. He examined the egg with blatant interest, utterly unbothered by what it was, let alone what it meant.
Alien
Though, to be honest, when Clark’s father had warned him about mad scientists and being kept as a specimen… neither of them had kept this in mind.
The egg slowly unfurled and decompressed fully in his palm, gelatinous and gleaming like a gemstone, eventually settling out to the size of a large apple. The sight of Bruce lifting the brilliant golden thing, dripping in his precum and medium, to examine its chemistry the old-fashioned way, would be burned into Clark’s mind until the day he died. Bruce brought it to his mouth, pressed it to his lips and tongue, and hummed with interest. “Salty, the medium is probably built to hold an electric charge.” Clark stared at him, wild-eyed and laid out across the mattress. “Not bitter either, so no alkaloids, but dense and fatty with hints of proteins… quite interesting.” A thin trail of secretions stretched from his lips and tongue to the membranous egg before breaking and dribbling down his chin. “I'm also thinking these processes were developed so as to allow the eggs to be fertilized and incubated technologically without a host. That would greatly increase your collective birth rate. Rather ingenious really.”
“Why does any of this surprise me?” Clark said hoarsely. As punishment, Bruce jacked his fist on his cock and kicked him into an immediate, almost painful orgasm. The man squeezed his oversensitive balls meanly, purring with content when he saw an increased load of blue medium, as though confirming something in his mind. Digging his index finger into that space below earned him an almost pitiful whine as his palm cupped an expanding, sac-like structure below the root of his cock that swelled with every egg. “That sac isn’t your scrotum; it must be where an egg gathers and prepares for implantation….” He could practically visualize it; some organ that produced eggs, muscled ducts that moved those eggs through his prostate, past his testicles and into that sac, and then up his cock. God he’d missed scientific fieldwork; he should have jumped Clark’s bones years ago.
The noise Clark made in response was a very poor attempt at speaking.
It felt like he’d been cumming for days by the time it started to taper off. By the end, there were three more eggs to add to Bruce’s growing collection and Clark, fucking Superman, was utterly exhausted.
But not, damn it all, utterly spent.
“You’re pure evil.”
Clark cracked open his eyes again, stars dancing in his vision and his cramping abdomen a mess of his own spill. Bruce had taken advantage of his lapse and was now back to kissing him stupid, something Clark was very much unopposed to. “Looks like the last of the batch.” Bruce palmed his navel as Clark wriggled on the bed, his oversensitive cock swollen at the base again with what had to be the last eggs of his clutch.
“I’m dead, you killed me for real this time.”
It felt like his dick was going to break off.
“Think you can give them to me starling? I know just where I want them, Kal…” Dusky half-lidded eyes and bright silver irises gleamed at him, his smile lecherous, and Clark decided exactly where those last eggs needed to go. It was like his libido had hit a restart, Bruce sheathing himself to the hilt on him in one go. “You just can’t play fair can you? Gotta play with fire- fuck- swear to Rao-” Clark grabbed at his shoulders, something raw and uncontrollable in that strength, thrusting up into the furnace heat of his partner. “Now why would I do that, Kal?” Listening to Bruce thoroughly abuse his birth name was more than enough to get him fully hard again and Bruce moaned as he felt the other stiffening inside him. One last go, one last egg for his clutch, it felt like the most important thing in the world and it all had to go into Bruce, into his mate- had to-
“Give me everything you’ve got, give me everything Kal…”
Clark moved his hands from Bruce’s hips again to grip the mattress, ripping expensive fabric between his knuckles as he tried feverishly to control himself. That task alone was monstrous and the amount of damage he could do haunted him. Bruce’s voice was practically hypnotic as he rode him, some base thing in him clawing at every scrap of his awareness.
“B-B- it’s dangerous, I’m n-not in contr- ah!” He would not harm his partner, his mate, no matter how determined his spasming body was to grasp and buck and bite and fuck. Bruce eyed him heatedly, running scarred hands up Clark’s flanks and along his arms to rub his wrists. “Oh starling, I want your hands, want your hands on me…”
Clark twisted and writhed on the bed, crying out as his hips jerked, causing Bruce’s small bump to bounce just that little bit. A look of pure lustful deviance spread across his face, Bruce moving his hands up to clutch his plumply muscled pectorals and bunch them together to form actual cleavage. Bruce lifted up from his partner’s hips to show the other where they joined and how the bump of his belly distorted his frame. The display was downright sinful, Clark unable to look away from the sight of Bruce friggin Wayne the goddamn Batman speared open on his swollen alien cock, rocking back and forth just above those last eggs with exaggerated motions that emphasized his curves. “Kaaaa-aaaal…” he complained airily “H-how’re you gonna put a baby in me if you won’t touch me?”
Not playing fair, indeed.
Clark needed no further beguiling, something snapping in his brain again. Eyes going red, he coiled and struck with a growl, biting into Bruce’s shoulder, drowning in his scent, and fucking with abandon.
It was pure extasy and his partner- his mate- welcomed it in ways he’d never thought possible.
Clark thrust hard, Bruce crying out as that monster cock and the bulge of those last eggs rutted up into his perineum and prostate. Bruce’s own dick was back in action now, small jolts of pleasure making him smear precum across his abdomen where it slapped his belly with every thrust. Bruce rode him like a prized bull, bouncing on his cock like a pro and taking both of Clark’s twitching hands in his to place them on the swell of his clutch in Bruce’s guts, that faint golden glow burning brighter. He pulled away from sucking a line of bruising hickies and bleeding nips down Bruce’s neck and chest, enraptured by that beautiful light.
“I-I’d guess- ah- the blue medium and the DNA p-p-ha-ckets-” Only Bruce could be lecturing him on xenobiology at a time like this. And only Clark could get off on it this hard, when he couldn’t even understand a word of it. “They must combine and suffuse into the peritoneal space to- to- form a kind of supercell- ah!”
He could feel the bulge of an egg, fucked back and forth, in and out of Bruce’s hole, lodged in his too-hard cock, fuck, he was doing this on purpose- Bruce smirked down on him, gaze darkening as more of that slick precum lubed him up and the lust-drunken effects of it muddled his thoughts back into mindless pleasure. Clark went cross-eyed as Bruce worked the mass of them in his cock with the muscles of his hole, there was no sex toy on earth to match that deviant bastard.
“I’d bet tha’s where- where genetic cross-eschange occurs- uh god Kal- forms an embryo and- and-”
Clark pulled him down hard with a growl, practically vibrating with need, kissing him harder and thrusting in deeper. Damn him, he had to have planned it- a whole mass of his thrice-damned eggs had knotted up together in his cock and was pushing at his insides, butting up into that one egg Bruce refused to let him pass. “C’mon Kal, I-I wan you to- to fill me up- fuck- think you can do it Kal?” His hips jolted up off the bed as he bucked up, the stuck egg finally popping in past Bruces tight rim with a shout.
It was a chain reaction; every egg Bruce had denied entry pushed out in a series of full body spasms. His cock bulged, pumping in load after load as egg after egg worked its way inexorably out of him and into Bruce, who shuddered as his abdomen distended further and he came like a man possessed. With every thrust the eggs jostled, rearranging his guts and bumping his prostate and bladder, toppling him into oversensitivity and raw orgasm. “J-just a little more B, just-” Clark was incoherent and his frame pouring heat in waves, begging, desperate to finally eke out that last few as Bruce’s belly got bigger and bigger. “G-god, B’ you’re taking them so well. Taking me- my eggs, just one more, can you do it for me? Just- ah- one more?” They came again together, an absolute mess, Bruce groaning long and loud. Semen and urine dribbled from his cock and, one after another, six more eggs joined the cum soaked nest between his hips in spastic pumping jerks. Clark came so hard it hurt, grabbing onto his own arms again as the last of the eggs popped free to form a full clutch.
A different kind of swell caught Bruce’s attention, not like the eggs, it was more solid and expanding just inside his hole to fill the space with pulsing heat. It pushed at his pelvis, catching at his insides beyond his rim, Clark’s eyes rolling up with a high keen and body tensing until his muscles twanged and his fingers dug bleeding furrows into his own biceps. Eventually the engorged mass of his cock caught, locking them together and sealing him up tight. A final rush of hot cum let loose, it was like a dam breaking, submerging the eggs in his guts and filling him to the brim as Clark screamed a death knell and emptied himself completely into the other.
Well… now he knew what a real orgasm felt like… holy shit.
If Bruce had thought the other produced a lot of cum before this, it was nothing compared to that last hurrah. It felt strange, a heady flow of sticky heat that throbbed electrically in his belly, making his organs and muscles tingle all the way from his spent balls and up to the tips of his ears. It felt like breeding, like claiming and pregnancy, like all the things he’d set aside so long ago were now pooling between his hips and it just might work.
With one last tremulous moan of relief, Clark went completely limp as heat rolled from his shoulders, spent in every sense of the word, panting like a dog. Bruce, absolutely incoherent, luxuriated drunkenly and lost himself and the world around him, basking in the afterglow of it all for what felt like hours.
God, he felt so full…
Sometime later, Clark groaned dazedly under Bruce, blinking up hazily to see blown pupils, a filthy blush, and the remnants of tears in the corners of his eyes. The man looked absolutely fucked out as he rocked on his cock, jostling the eggs, and tremors working their way up his spine. “We… we sssshould do this ‘gain sometime…” Bruce slurred, slowly coming back to himself. The eggs themselves must have had some kind of psychotropic effects as well, his bones felt like they were melting and his chest felt warm; no arthritis or strictures or stress, just delicious syrupy heat centered on the mass of them that throbbed with his pulse and into his blood. His thoughts felt thick and he could feel electric bliss in every nerve all the way in his teeth. Clark couldn’t help but laugh, still breathless. “Only you, B’, Rao, you’re too good for me.” Bruce purred, about to lift himself up when his hole caught painfully on the others cock, a gasp and grunt escaping them both at the tug.
Still a bit addled by the experience, Bruce gave Clark a look, raised eyebrow and all, as hands grabbed his hips to pull him back down. Clark flushed bright red, though all things considered, this wasn’t the weirdest thing to have happened today. “Um… it’s my- um- it swells up at the base sometimes. Hasn’t happened since I was a kid.” Clark tried to avert his gaze, Bruce having none of it and putting his hands to the man’s chest to brace himself. “I take it this was designed to make sure the host has adequate exposure to your ‘data packets’ and such?” Bruce was smirking at him, clarity returning to his gaze as another attempt to dislodge his partners cock stung them. “Pretty much… it should, ah, go down in a bit… I think it’s called a Union Tie, the language was pretty evasive.”
Bruce leaned down for a quick, chagrined kiss with a smile, bringing Clark’s gaze back to him. “Define ‘a bit’ if you please.” He spoke into the other’s lips, earning a smile from the other and looking like he’d won a prize for it.
Fifteen minutes later, Bruce was lifting himself up after another brief spate of kisses and rolling off of him to rest on his side. A long string of mucus and cum arched from his hole obscenely, Bruce testing the weight of their clutch in his pelvis and palming his pregnant belly. The man looked six or seven months knocked up and, Rao, the sight of it drove Clark mad, him drawing the man in for another series of messy open-mouthed kisses.
Finally, they parted fully and Bruce sat up with a groan of pure pleasure. Still tingling with endorphins and the lingering effects of Clarks cum, Bruce reached over into the bedside drawer with a positively salacious grin. Clark knew he was done for, then and there, and his eyebrows rose as the man pulled out an oddly shaped silicone toy. It was small, blunt and unmistakable, and Clark could feel the tips of his ears going red and his face heating up. “Well, we do have a meeting on the Tower soon… and you did offer.” Bruce took the plug, a soft blue thing, popping it into himself with a brief shudder and moaning as he moved to stand up.
“You were right, I can feel them. You’re too sweet to me Kal.” Clark couldn’t help but watch, nine eggs in total, his golden clutch glowing, buried in his lover’s warm body. He groaned at the sight, at the thought of sitting in a room full of their comrades with Bruce, his insides dripping and stuffed full of his clutch.
“Fuck I’ve gotta piss. You really are a deviant, aren’t you?”
Clark was too exhausted to do much more than cuss, watching Bruce leak light down his legs like an aurora despite the plug. He swaggered his way through the bedroom, providing Clark with a front row seat to his raw hole, stopped up with thick mucus and that bright blue plug. His backside and thighs were a fucking mess, paraded for Clark as he sauntered into the bathroom and the clutch in his belly settled in further, utterly indecent in the cradle of his hands holding his middle.
Clark stood, fawn-like and unbalanced, debating whether or not to burn the sheets before Alfred could catch sight of them. He could hear the shower turn on and the long sigh of relief that came from Bruce emptying his bladder. “Holy shit Clark. That’s one way to fix a bad prostate.” Clark stared dumbly at the door, steam pouring out.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me…” Stepping into the bathroom, bow legged, Clark could see all the colors of the horizon turning Bruce’s skin golden. The glow was absolutely mesmerizing, turned the tiled walk-in stall into an aurora, making his dick twitch back to life. Every solid gold egg shined back at him from inside Bruce like a jewel, the azure cradle of his cum a shallow bowl of glacial light and midnight oceans. It was as if a Van Gough deigned to walk in human form, wearing the frame and beauty of Bruce, his silver eyes gleaming in the morning light. The man, cut like Adonis despite his scars, shivered gladly under the spray, making the light refract through water droplets like a distant storm or a moonlit lake. The image of Bruce, a creature of light bowed as if in supplication to the deluge and mist as technicolor neons ran down his body to the drain in rivers was somehow more explicitly pornographic than anything he’d seen so far.
Clark gulped, shaking his head hard to clear it. He was finding things out about himself that he didn’t quite know how to deal with…
Bruce seemed to be sobering up, exempt from his daily aches, tossing him a washcloth as they got to work cleaning themselves up. Eventually, the surreal nature of the affair caught up to him and Clark couldn’t help but ask. “How are you not freaked out about this? I’m freaked out about this.” Bruce just gave him a side-eyed stare before taking ahold of the showerhead. “I once spent 36 hours dealing with Condiment King. And yes, I know I have no one to blame for that idiot’s existence but myself.” Clark spared him a wince. “I’ve dealt with everything from pseudo-werewolves to a criminal mastermind that manifested in a diseased man’s ventriloquist dummy.” Bruce stared him dead in the eyes. “Mind me for enjoying a good buzz and a damn decent fuck.” With that, Bruce sprayed him down with the showerhead before stepping out. “Besides… it’s quite beautiful. I’ve learned to accept beauty when I find it… dawn never lasts long in Gotham.”
And what could Clark say to that?
The shower eventually turned off, mist pouring out as Bruce scrubbed himself down with a towel and then tossed it to Clark. Bruce pulling his undershirt on, down his perfect body and over the bump of their clutch, was downright enrapturing. The man looked like the sunrise, inundated in Clark’s own scent; marked.
Bruce chuckled, for once perfectly content, prepping the leather-like undersuit that was the precursor to his armor. It concealed the lewd bump, pushing his figure back into alignment as he shuddered. The line of his spent cock pressed into his thigh, Bruce hunching over with his hands on his knees and rocking his hips to feel their clutch moving in his insides. It was a buzz of pure pleasure that sang in every nerve from the neck down. “Going to be an interesting meeting with these knocking me around. So, how long until I have to worry about crumb snatchers?” Clark stopped short, huffing a laugh, his face bright red yet so far beyond embarrassment it was insane. “Um- uh- four… four hours before they start to break down... at least they did on the, um, outside. After that, they reduce into a small transparent slurry.” Shameless as ever, Bruce just snorted and smirked. “Well then, I’ll expect you to help with the delivery after the meeting then, though I do want to try and preserve a few… and that slush might have some interesting insights into the Constelliatory Network.”
If that didn’t sum up their relationship, nothing would.
Clark watched him, caught between awe and exasperation; two things that came part and parcel to their relationship. A smile formed on his face, standing in mist and sunbeams, watching Bruce stretch as thin underlayers of black Kevlar obscured their glowing clutch. Walking to the bed, looking at the sheets where several of the golden eggs sat… Clark could almost admit that they really did look kind of beautiful.
“Sure thing B.”
It was going to be a long meeting….