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"I made something for you."
The sentence itself sounds innocent enough but the look in Bruce's eyes say otherwise. And Clark knows better than to expect a simple gift from him. The last time he said he'd made him something it led to Clark nearly burning the manor down.
They've been together for a while now but things like this are still new and exciting. Bruce often shows affection in ways that Clark isn't as familiar with and one of those ways is understanding Clark's needs without asking. Sometimes Clark swears he can read his mind.
"Are you going to tell me what it is?"
Bruce responds by kissing his jaw and whispering, "Only if you promise to behave."
So that's how tonight's going to go. It isn't often that Bruce wants Clark to submit like this. But god does he love it. To let Bruce do whatever he pleases with him. To see the look in his eyes as he watches Clark fall apart. The sound of his voice describing how good Clark feels against him. The thought alone has Clark wanting to tear his clothes off. Now.
Clark complies immediately, "I promise I'll be good." Bruce hums in response and goes to retrieve the mystery item. Clark stays put, going along with Bruce's request even though he so badly needs to close the distance between them.
Bruce comes back holding what looks to be a collar. There's something off about it but Clark doesn't get the time to figure out what before Bruce starts talking.
"I want you completely to myself. Without any distractions." He pauses for a moment giving Clark time to process what he's implying. "Do you understand?"
Clark feels the heat rushing to his face, "I understand."
Bruce steps closer bridging the gap between them. Lifting the collar closer to Clark's face, letting him get a good look at it. "This will help you focus."
"How is that going to help me-"
Bruce cuts him off by putting a hand over his lips. "I made this special for you remember?" His voice is dangerously low and he knows Clark can't argue when he speaks like this. "There's a small amount of kryptonite lining the inside. Just enough to shut your powers off while you are wearing it. Just enough that you can't think of anything but this. Can't focus on anything but me." He raises his eyebrows slightly, silently asking, is this okay? Clark nods and Bruce removes the hand from his mouth.
Clark misses the pressure on his lips but he will get more soon enough.
Suddenly Bruce's lips are brushing against his ear, his breath hot on his skin. "Now, be a good boy, and strip for me."
He's never seen Clark act this way before. He looks shy and small even though no one could look at a man his size and call him small. He's handed all of himself to Bruce. He trusts Bruce enough to be this vulnerable with him. It distracts him for a moment but he has plans and he isn't going to waste anymore time.
Clark strips down to his boxers. Bruce carefully puts the collar around his neck. He can practically feel Clark's nerves on his fingertips as he secures it in place.
"You…" Clark hesitates for a moment. "You can tighten it more."
Bruce's hands stop in their tracks and his eyes meet Clark's. "Is that what you want?"
He nods. Bruce complies with his request and tightens the collar. Clark is a strong man even without Superman's strength. A collar isn't going to hurt him unless he wants it to.
Bruce steps back a bit to observe how the kryptonite is affecting him. He doesn't seem to be in any pain or discomfort. If anything he seems relaxed.
Clark responds as if he could hear what Bruce was thinking. "I feel fine, B. Everything is just…quiet?"
Interesting. "How else is it affecting you?"
Clark takes a deliberately slow step forwards as he responds. "It makes me feel weak but…human. My strength and defenses are down." He pauses and wets his lips. "The only thing I can focus on is the sound of your voice. I can't hear anything else even if I tried."
The last sentence came out as more of a whisper as he leans down to connect their lips. Bruce can tell immediately that he's holding himself back. While it's sweet that he doesn't want to hurt him, tonight isn't about that. He grabs ahold of the collar and leads Clark to sit down on the bed. Bruce steps in between his knees and kisses him tantalizingly slowly. Putting as little pressure as possible on his mouth. Purposely spurring Clark on to feel him work for more. But for once, Bruce is stronger than he is. So he continues gradually pulling the man apart with his lips.
After a few more moments of this Clark pulls away out of impatience, opening his mouth to complain and Bruce makes quick work of shutting him up by deepening their kiss. A small noise escapes Clark's mouth and Bruce chases the sound with his tongue. Tasting Clark's sweet whines like he's been starving without them.
Bruce's hands find themselves intangled in his hair pulling at the curls to bring him closer. A broken moan escapes Clark's throat to both of their surprise. He rarely ever acts this needy.
Bruce pulls back slightly, hooking one of his fingers under Clark's collar pulling it tighter. "Is something wrong?" He asks with faux concern clearly teasing the other man. God, the look on his face. Clark looks wrecked, desperate, hungry. Like this is the only thing he wants. The only thing he needs. Just from a kiss.
"No, no, I just- this is so…much. It's overwhelming."
Bruce trails his lips up Clark's neck, his jaw, feeling his breath hitch at the contact. Bruce pauses for a moment to softly mutter, "Do you want me to stop?"
Clark lets out a small, satisfied, sigh and tilts his head back slightly, giving Bruce more room to work with. "Please don't."
Bruce responds by sucking on the sensitive skin of his neck. Fascinated that he was finally able to mark Clark as his. That his flesh can't erase the proof before he could see it. Bruce has complete control over Clark's body and it is exhilarating. He takes his time leaving marks down his jaw, neck, along his collarbones. Hearing Clark become more and more eager the lower he goes. Until Bruce is on his knees pressing soft lips against his abdomen. He looks up at Clark to see him shivering with want, his skin covered in those beautiful bruises, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him.
While holding eye contact with him, Bruce scraps his teeth on the waistband of his boxers biting down on the thin material. Already damp with Clark's anticipation. He sees pure, unadulterated, desire flood Clark's eyes as he slowly pulls the fabric down his legs. Bruce's fingers wrap themselves around Clark's ass and he pulls him to the edge of the mattress. Clark lets out a short gasp of surprise but doesn't protest to the position they've found themselves in.
"You are being so, so, patient." Bruce purrs the praise against Clark's inner thigh before pressing another kiss into his skin. Clark bites his bottom lip muffling a whimper that's fighting to spill out. "But I need you to do something else for me, okay baby?"
Clark nods, breathing heavily. "Anything you want."
"Don't come until I tell you to." Bruce's voice is firm. This was an order not a request. Without giving Clark time to respond Bruce takes all of him into his mouth.
The sudden pleasure tears through Clark's body harshly. He's never felt like this before. The kryptonite allows him to be more sensitive than he thought possible. It's dizzying. He has to grab a handful of Bruce's hair to ground himself. Which seems to only encourage Bruce to keep up his brutal pace.
His thighs are already shaking, squeezing around Bruce. And just when he feels himself getting close to the edge, Bruce pulls off of him, a string of saliva the only thing still connecting them. Clark wants to protest but he fights the urge, knowing it would only lead to Bruce using it against him later.
Bruce is studying him. Watching how he's reacting to every little thing. Pulling him apart with his eyes.
"How do you feel now?" He says feigning curiosity, but the innocence in his voice appears no where on his face.
"God, I feel-" He takes a breath trying to focus on making words come out of his mouth. "I need more. Please."
He knows how much Bruce loves to hear him beg and he gets the reaction he was hoping for. Bruce stands up, rips his own suit jacket off, and sits in a chair beside the bed.
Clark begins to get up, wanting to feel the heat of Bruce's skin against his. Needing to feel his pleasure alongside his own.
But Bruce signals for him to stay where he is. He sits back down but not without a sigh of complaint.
"Lay back." Another order. Clark complies without hesitation. His back against the multitude of pillows, he makes a show of spreading his legs just enough Bruce can see everything.
Bruce leans down putting his elbows on his knees. "I want you to show me how you touch yourself."
Heat spreads across Clark's skin like wildfire. His face turning a deep shade of red. "Bruce that's- I wanted to- I need to touch you."
Bruce smirks, he clearly has exactly what he wanted. "You need to earn that, Kal." His Kryptonian name. Hearing Bruce say it makes him shiver. Bruce leans back and shifts his hips so he's more on display than before. "Show me."
Clark swallows thickly, raining in his embarrassment. He wraps his fingers around himself, still slick with pre-come and Bruce's saliva. The thought alone makes his dick twitch. His strokes start slow but it doesn't take him long to lose control and start thrusting into his own hand. The pure sensation is almost too much to bear.
He can feel Bruce's eyes watching him. Watching him fuck his own fist while he fails at biting back moans. It's driving Clark crazy not having Bruce's hands on him. He needs to feel something besides his own flesh.
He slows down his movements, makes them less erratic and desperate. He turns to look at Bruce. If he didn't know Bruce as well as he does it would look like he's simply observing him. With the same amount of interest one would have looking at something small and mediocre. But he can see the micro expressions in his face. The way he's gripping the arm rests a bit too tightly. The furrow in his brow and the light flush reaching his ears. He's as starved as Clark is, he's just better at hiding it.
Bruce stands up not breaking eye contact with him and starts unbuttoning his shirt. Clark makes a low pathetic noise in the back of his throat and Bruce's hands freeze where they are. A soft smirk spreads across his face.
"Oh darling, do you want to help me with this?" His tone is gentle, condescending, and Clark can't get enough of it. Clark nods maybe a little too eagerly.
Bruce leans down, pulls Clark's face up to meet his, and kisses him deeply. It catches him off guard but his hands are already making quick work of the rest of Bruce's clothes. Once his suit is undone and on the floor, he takes a second to admire Bruce. He's settled himself between Clark's spread thighs, grinding against him, the thin fabric of his boxers the only thing keeping their skin apart.
The feeling of Bruce touching him is dizzying and he's getting sick of the friction of fabric on his skin. Clark puts his hands on either side of Bruce's waist and rips the boxers down the middle. Bruce is already painfully hard and leaking down his thighs. He seems amused by how anxious Clark is for his attention.
Bruce slows his hips and presses the pad of his thumb to Clark's lower lip. He instinctively parts his lips and takes his thumb into his mouth. Sucking like he's the one getting pleasure out of this. He'll never get enough of Bruce's taste on his tongue.
"Good boy," Bruce coos. "You look so beautiful like this."
Clark lets out a shaky whimper and Bruce slips another finger into his mouth. The wet heat of his mouth is utterly filthy. His tongue not leaving one spot untouched. Slicking Bruce's fingers with his saliva, satisfied with the faint twitch of his hand as he gives his attention to a particularly jagged scar.
Another finger. A normal man would have gagged at the sudden intrusion but Clark welcomes it. Drool spilling down Bruce's hand in a way that would seem obscene if they weren't both distracted with other things at the moment. With his other hand, Bruce strokes Clark's neglected cock. A stifled moan escapes his throat, his eyes wet from the overbearing need of release. He strokes him softly using little pressure. His hips jerk up into Bruce's palm, the sensation fighting to spill over. And Bruce gently takes his hand away, silently communicating that he needs to wait a bit longer.
Bruce sits back on his knees, drawing his fingers from Clark's mouth. He starts slowly opening himself up while Clark watches. His fingers wet with Clark's saliva sliding inside himself perfectly. A low whine leaves Clark's lips as Bruce adds another finger. Touching himself in a careful, teasingly slow way, just to watch Clark squirm. He's been so patient and he'll get his reward for it soon.
Eyes never leaving Clark's, Bruce lets out a short moan as he sinks his fingers deeper. He wants to see how long Clark will stay quiet before he gives in. They both might be stubborn but Clark desperately needs a release. And he can't go on much longer without help.
Again and again. His fingers going deeper and deeper each time. He's thoroughly stretched himself by now. He slows his movements, watching how Clark's eyes never leave him. How his lips are quivering with want and his eyes are out of focus. Bruce completely stops what he's doing and refocuses his attention.
"Clark."
Clark blinks and looks at him, his eyes glassy with his arousal.
"You can use your words, can't you sweetheart?" His voice is smooth as silk, and breaks the tension perfectly. He'll always know exactly what Clark needs and right now it's him.
Clark whimpers in response clearly struggling to gain control of his tongue. That's fine, Bruce can wait.
"If there's something you want, you have to use your words Kal."
"I need you." He's panting struggling to force the words out. "I need to touch you."
Bruce leans closer but waits. Wanting to hear more. He looks down at him expectantly.
He swallows hard, his lips quivering. The wetness in his eyes getting in his lashes. "Please. I'll do anything you want. I just need to feel you again. Please Bruce."
There he is.
"Anything?" Bruce whispers it against his lips before straddling his lap. Not quite touching him, just hovering teasingly.
Clark rests his hands on Bruce's waist supporting him. "Anything."
Before responding, Bruce wraps a hand around the base of Clark's shaft, carefully lowering himself onto him. Clark makes a soft hum of approval and helps guide his hips down until they are flush against each other. They stay like this for a moment. Giving themselves a second to adjust. Bruce starts moving his hips as he open his mouth to continue their conversation.
"I think you deserve to receive something for your good behavior." He's trying to keep his breathing steady, to remain in control. But Clark has stretched him so far already, it's exhilarating.
He can practically see Clark's eyes light up from the praise. "Yeah?"
He hums in response. He loops a finger under the collar and pulls Clark up against him. He mutters his next words softly. The hot breath leaving his lips working as half of the talking. "How does fucking me until you can't think sound?" Clark shivers and his grip tightens on Bruce's hips.
He lowers himself down, kissing at Clark's jaw as he continues to mumble against him. "Hm? You want to fuck me so hard I can still feel you for days?" He sucks another mark into his skin, relishing driving him crazy with his words. "You want to come inside me, fill me up and watch as it runs down my thighs?" Bruce nips at his ear. "Or fuck me slowly and feel every little breath, every twitch, every time you make me clench tighter around you." He slows his hips as if to give him an example. Clark's shaking and the grip he has on Bruce's hips is far past hard enough to bruise.
"Jesus." Clark groans under his breath. He flips them over so he's finally on top of Bruce.
He starts carefully thrusting into him. They are both well past feeling sensitive and he wants to take his time. Trying to give pleasure more than receive it. He changes the angle of his hips and lifts one of Bruce's legs onto his shoulder. Spreading him wide open and reaching deeper inside him. Bruce's hands grip the sheets as he fights to swallow back a moan.
"Harder. I can take it." Bruce hisses through gritted teeth. The "don't hold back" was very much implied.
Clark does what he's told, pushing Bruce's thigh down further so it's against his chest, leaving less space between them. The pace he's set is brutal, and with each thrust he pulls Bruce's hips into his. Making sure to hit his prostate with every hard drive of his cock.
Clark moves his hand to reach for Bruce's shaft wanting to stroke him through his release but he swats his hand away.
"Don't need it." Bruce huffs out between groans. "Just keep going."
Clark's vision is going blurry, his eyes and face wet with tears from the overstimulation. The kryptonite around his neck effecting his senses, begging him to let go. But he promised he would be good so he'll wait for Bruce's word.
Bruce tugs on the collar pulling their faces closer together. He cups Clark's face gently wiping his tears away with his thumbs.
"My sweet boy, you are making me feel so good." He purrs into Clark's jaw before leaving a soft kiss on the sensitive skin. "Come for me baby. I've got you."
The sound of his voice was enough to send Clark over the edge and he comes hard. Continuing to fuck Bruce through his orgasm. It's so intense it's almost blinding. Apparently seeing stars isn't just a myth. He feels Bruce tighten around him, his breath stuttering as he has his own release. Coming untouched across both of their abdomens. Bruce's thighs are shaking, Clark is still filling him up, his orgasm seeming to last hours.
When he finally collapses into Bruce, his body still going through the aftershocks, Bruce wraps his arms around him. Running his fingers through his hair, mumuring sweet nothings into his ear. Saying how proud of him he is and how well he did.
Bruce carefully takes the collar off of him without disturbing the position they are in. Bruce makes a quick note to himself to continue using kryptonite like this in the future. They both doze off soon afterwards. Exhausted and deeply comfortable in each other's arms.