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The next morning, Clark wakes first—a rare occurrence—and he stretches out slowly, not wanting to accidentally startle Bruce awake. It’s not as if the man ever gets enough sleep and unlike the Kryptionian, he’s not powered by sunlight, so he does actually need it. Clark turns his head to look over at Bruce, taking a moment to just drink in the sight of him. After everything they’ve been through together, it’s still somehow novel that he gets to wake up next to this gorgeous man every morning. That despite the initial rejection, he was chosen. Wanted. This was, quite literally, everything Clark had ever dreamed of and more.
Bruce stirs next to him, eyes blinking sleepily for a moment before focusing on Clark with the same laser intensity that colors everything the man does. Or at least everything he does when he’s not putting on his ‘Brucie’ act for the public. There’s an overlap, now that the cowl has been pulled back, between Bruce—the real Bruce—and Batman that Clark can’t believe he never saw before.
“Good morning.” Clark smiles and reaches out, running his fingers through the silky strands of Bruce’s hair and gently smoothing it into place. The fact that it’s more disheveled than usual this morning is, after all, Clark’s fault. He flushes as he thinks back on the events of the previous night, absently biting his lower lip as he curls a lock of Bruce’s hair around his finger.
“Mm. Good morning.” Bruce’s voice is rough with sleep, the words coming out a little more like Batman’s than they usually do. His gaze drops from Clark’s eyes to his lips, and Clark thinks that if Bruce was the one with laser eyes, the entire room would be going up in flames right now from the heat of his gaze. “Penny for your thoughts?”
Clark squirms a little under Bruce’s attention, his fingernails running lightly over the man’s scalp as he curls his fingers into Bruce’s hair. From the look in his eyes, Bruce already has a pretty good guess about what Clark’s thoughts could be. The man is, after all, the World’s Greatest Detective for a reason. “I…I was thinking about last night.” he manages to get out, feeling his face warm further.
“What about last night?” Bruce practically purrs the worlds as he presses closer, his fingers curling around the back of Clark’s neck as he pulls the Kryptonian in for a heated kiss, gently catching Clark’s lower lip between his teeth.
“Last night?” Clark pants dazedly, unable to think about much of anything other than what’s happening right now and the fact that he is suddenly, painfully hard.
“Yes.” Bruce smiles is self-satisfied, like he knows he has Clark exactly where he wants him. “What are you thinking about, Clark?”
“About you.” how could he be thinking about anything else after last night? After Bruce had gone to Hell to bring him back. After he had finally confessed his love in words. After they had consummated their relationship and taken the connection of their soulmate bond to the next level.
“What about me?” the words are murmured against Clark’s lips, Bruce’s tongue darting out to wet his lower lip.
“Everything.” it comes out as a breathy moan. “Bruce.”
“Clark.” he kisses him again, softly, with a tenderness that contrasts the building heat between them.
“Bruce. Please.” he’s not entirely sure what he’s even asking for anymore, but Clark knows Bruce will take care of him. Will give him everything he needs.
“Fuck.” the word is a growl that sounds more Batman than Bruce, and Clark can’t stop the whimper that slips from his lips. “Kal.” Bruce reaches up and winds his finger around the single curl that has fallen onto Clark’s forehead, tugging it lightly.
“Bruce.” Clark pants his name, his fingers sliding out of Bruce’s hair and digging lightly into the other man’s shoulder, careful not to apply too much pressure.
“Kal.” the curl is still twirled around Bruce’s fingers, but his other hand cups Clark’s jaw, holding him steady as Bruce licks into his mouth, swallowing down the soft keening noise that he makes. “I’ve got you.” his hand moves lower, fingers trailing over Clark’s shoulder and down his chest to tease at first one nipple, then the other, alternating between rolling the sensitive nubs between his fingers and lightly flicking them.
“Oh—” he gasps, arching into Bruce’s touch. Everything is at once too much and not enough. Each touch feels electric, sensation skating down Clark’s spine and making him throb. “Please, Bruce. Please.”
Bruce presses Clark onto his back, tangling their legs together and sliding his thigh between Clark’s as he leans over the Kryptonian, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Do you want my mouth?” he brushes his lips over Clark’s jaw and nibbles on he earlobe, earning a gasp from his lover. “My fingers?” Bruce nips lightly at Kal’s neck.
“Bruce. Bruce.” the name is a prayer on his lips, anything else he might think to say lost in the pleasant static of the moment.
He chuckles—soft and low—against Clark’s skin, moving to kiss along his collarbone and down his chest to suck lightly at one nipple, swirling his tongue around it while teasing the other with his fingers.
“Haah—” Kal squirms beneath him, moaning softly, his fingers curling into the sheets as he arches into Bruce’s touch.
Bruce kisses his way down Kal’s body, his fingers wrapping around the Kryptonian’s cock and slowly stroking him. Their world narrows to the points of contact between them and everything else falls away. Bruce lifts his gaze, looking up at Clark. He wraps his lips around Clark’s cock, slowly sinking down around him as they get lost in the moment and each other.