If you don't remember, I suggest you look back at Chapter 4 before reading this cause it starts back off right there.
Warning: Smut
Bruce breaks away, and gently removes the cowl from his face. Clark stares, entranced in pale, icy blue eyes. His breathing is slightly ragged, and he holds Bruce's gaze, locking them together.
It isn't until what seems like whole minutes have passed that Bruce finally looks away. It is as if they were trapped in a cage and he had just found the key. He presses forward once more, capturing Clark in a lip-locked frenzy.
His tongue moves along Clark's lower lip, practically begging entrance. Although their eyes are closed, Clark can see the lust in Bruce. The heat and need and intensity building up inside of him.
Clark has barely opened his mouth, before Bruce is thrusting his tongue in hard. Clark moans into Bruce's mouth, and allows him inside, running his tongue along Bruce's and taking in the whole of him.
Bruce pulls away just long enough to open the glass door his his bedroom, before his tackling Clark again at full force. They push and tug at each other, willing their clothing to come off faster, but it does not obey. It seems to take an eternity before they are able to remove even their capes.
Bruce moves to his gigantic bed, lying on his back, and pulls Clark on top of him.
Sweat begins to build on his forehead, but he ignores it. The only thing on his mind is Clark. Clark's mouth and the way it moves in symphony to his. The way Clark is so similar to him, from their build all the way to their facial features. Everything about him is just so sexy and full of everything Bruce needs that he can no longer think straight.
Clark begins to grind against Bruce, and it is only now that he realises the full need for each other that they both share in this moment.
Clark is hard, Bruce notices, and pushes away only enough to speak, keeping the rest of their bodies intertwined.
"Clark." He whispers, struggling to regain at least some of his breath. Clark stares at him, impatiently awaiting whatever it is Bruce needs to say so that they can get back to kissing.
"You're just rubbing against armour." He finally says with a smirk. Clark smiles back, and moves backward enough to help Bruce out of his suit. Then he removes his own.
With Bruce in nothing but his under armour, and Clark in only his breifs, they can finally see the full effect they have had on each other.
Both have an erection that is straining against the little fabric they have on, ready to spring free. They share almost an equal amount of sweat trickling down their faces and necks, and both of their breaths hitch unevenly.
"Bruce," Clark whispers. Not needing the entirety of his plea, Bruce nods. Immediately, Clark pounces again, ripping the remaining cloth from Bruce and himself until they have nothing covering either of them.
Without a second thought, they are grinding against one another. Pelvis against pelvis, cock against cock.
Pre-cum is leaking from both men as they rub, lubricating each other and causing more friction. Which, in turn, is causing more pleasure.
Bruce leans upward, wrapping his arms around his Kryptonian lover's neck and pulls him down. Their stomachs and chests now rub against each other, and their mouths are in a sloppy, never-ending spasm of tongue, heat, and spit.
Both Clark and Bruce feel their climaxes nearing. "Bruce," Clark pants. "I can't-"
Thinking that Clark can't hold himself any longer, Bruce shifts, and begins to thrust furiously against the other man's hips. He lowers one hand, and grasps both of their cocks, stroking hard and fast, bringing them both closer to the edge.
"B- Bruce, n- no. No." Clark stutters. With his orgasm nearing, he struggles to break free from Bruce's death grip on his neck and cock.
"B- Bruce. I- I can't." He breathes. "I- I'll hurt you."
That is what shocks Bruce. He pounds fiercely against Clark, allowing a deep-throated groan to slip free.
He's going to make Clark come tonight, if it is the last thing he does. Even if Clark does hurt him-. No. He wouldn't. Clatk cared. He could control himself for one night, right?
Clark was a ticking timebomb tonight. At some point, soon, Bruce hoped, he would detonate. Explode right into Bruce's waiting arms; and when he did, Bruce would be ready. He would catch him and hold on and never let go.
Finally, Clark lets out a high-pitched moan, then a small squeak, and comes onto Bruce. Bruce follows his lead and does the same, coming with an untangible growl all over himself and his sheets.
The warm, sticky white substance now covering the two men runs down Bruce's sides, and seeps into his bedspread. They're both panting now, and Clark pulls away, sitting on the edge of Bruce's mattress.
"I, uh-. Sorry." He says quietly. At first, Bruce believes it is about the pleasure they just shared. He was ready to tell Clark it was nothing to worry about. That he had wanted it just as badly as Clark had.
He would have said that, if he hadn't seen the wood sitting in Clark's hand. He looks up, to see that a chunk of his headboard is missing.
Without a word, Bruce nods and begins to sit up. Cum runs down his chest and abdomen into his lap. Clark turns to look at him. "Sorry about that, too." He says, gesturing toward the stringy liquid on Bruce's body.
"Stop it." Bruce growls. Startled, Clark asks, "Stop what?"
"Apologizing."Bruce spits out. He's tired and dirty and sticky and all he wants to do is lie down cuddled next to Clark and go to sleep.
" Sor-" Clark stops himself before finishing the word. "Alright. So, what now?" He asks.
Honestly, he's never done anything like this. All of the sexual encounters he's ever had were with women. Women that he cared about. Women that he had planned something with.
With Bruce, everything was different. This is someone that he's known for years. Someone whom he's trusted countless times with not only his life, but the lives of others as well.
What if this ruined our friendship? Clark wonders. No. He refuses to think like that. If it jeapordized the relationship they once knew, Bruce could shut it all away. He could turn off his feelings like a switch and make everything return to normal. To how it used to be.
"Come here." Bruce says, sharply breaking Clark from his thoughts. Clark complies, slowly moving toward Bruce, only to stop mere inches away.
"Lie down." Bruce demands. Again, Clark does as he is told, and lies down next to his Caped Cruisader.
Bruce extends Clark's arms, making room for himself, and lays down wrapping Clark around him.
"Uh, Bruce?"
"Hush. Go to sleep."
"But-"
"Stop it, Clark."
"Don't you think you should clean up?"
Bruce sighs, and turns around in Clark's arms so that they're facing each other. "No, I don't. I'm tired so go to sleep."
"Bruce,"
"Clark, say one more word and I'm kicking you out."
Clark shut his mouth. He didn't say another word as Bruce twisted in his arms again and settled down. He didn't make a sound as Bruce drifted off to sleep clutching onto him, or when Dick emerged from the Batcave and headed to bed. And he made sure not to wake Bruce later that night when he left.
*******
When Bruce gets up, he's surprised to find himself clean. He wakes with a blanket wrapped tightly around him, a pair of boxers from his dresser on his body, and any evidence of last night gone. Almost as if it had never happened.
~~~~(A/N)~~~~~~~~
Okay, so the updates should be pretty normal now, and hopefully quicker. It's coming to me pretty easily now so I can probably get these up every couple of days or so. Thank you all who are still reading, and goodnight! Love y'all!
