Work Text:
The hustle and bustle from Metropolis drifted up through the open windows of the daily planet. Inside, it was somehow even worse. Papers falling, people chatting, coffee brewing, and rapid tapping on keyboards everywhere. Though, all of this was not what Clark was focused on.
Grunting, rhythmically, in intervals, coming all the way from Gotham. A huff every time Bruce came up on a pull up. A heavy breath out every time he went down for a push up. He had already discarded the weights in the cave, and was finishing up his workout. His heartbeat was steady but elevated. If Clark concentrated, he could hear the drops of sweat running down his lover's back. He chewed his pen.
Through all of this, Clark had still kept typing, reading from his notes next to his laptop on the desk, salivating his dry mouth, and trying to focus on work.
The distracting sounds stopped. Clark remembered to breathe again, continued typing. Maybe he was off the hook. Jimmy threw a couple of photographs on his desk in passing, Emma walked by with a handful of letters.
Back to normal.
Until the sounds started up again and Clark's hands stilled over his keyboard, unable to remember what he was going to write. It was more like sighs now, swallows, open mouthed whimpers and that oh so familiar grunt.
Clark peeked. Shouldn't have. Regretted it instantly.
He heard the sopping of lubed up fingers disappearing in Bruce's ass before he saw him. On his side on the bed, stroking his cock, one hand behind himself. Clark felt heat rise to his cheeks and blood rush to his rapidly hardening cock.
He'd tried to tune it out, tried to go back to work, succeeded for a bit. But then Bruce had gotten up on his knees on the bed, leaning on one elbow on the head board, three fingers of his other hand knuckle deep inside of himself, and he'd taken them out and reached for the toy laying on the sheets beside him.
Clark slammed his laptop shut, mumbled something to Lois about grabbing an early lunch in passing, and made his way through the busy office. Meandering through the sea of desks, he held his hastily grabbed messenger bag half in front of himself to hide the tenting in his pants. He left all of his stuff in the supply closet in the wake of a sonic boom starting suspiciously close to the daily planet building. Behind him, he still heard Perry slam the door of his office open and yell “Kent? Where is Kent?”
In Wayne Manor's master bedroom, the curtains were closed. The balcony door had been left open, for Clark. He closed it with a quiet click behind himself. discarded the top half of his suit while walking over to the bed, floated out of his pants and boots, and landed on his knees behind Bruce on the bed. He gently slid the toy out of his lover's ass, felt the slick of lubrication trail between them.
"There you are." Bruce exhaled heavily back at him over his shoulder.
"Here I am." He shuffled closer to Bruce, one knee between his legs. "How is it you always get what you want?"
"Because I'm batman?"
Clark shook a laugh away. "You're insufferable."
"I've heard that before."
The toy, still in Clark's hand, got flung to one of the far walls, hit the floor with a thud, and stopped vibrating. “Hmm. Sorry?”
“You’re not.” Clark shook his head in agreement with Bruce, kissed him then.
Bruce was wearing nothing but a pair of his white sports socks that drove Clark crazy, soles up and toes curling. Their smell was thick, hazy, making Clark impossibly more hard.
He looked down between them. Bruce's puckered hole was gasping for something, anything to fill it up again. He bent down and licked a long stripe from Bruce's hole over his right ass cheek all the way to the back of his neck.
The shudder didn't come until Clark whispered in his ear: "Can I fuck you?"
Bruce recomposed himself quickly. "I thought that was obvious."
Then, Clark gathered some of the lube from around Bruce's ass and coated his own painfully hard cock with it. He slid in, bottoming out in one smooth move.
Bruce clenched the head board tighter as he did, holding still and rigid, but Clark heard more blood rush to his cock. Good. Hand on the back of Bruce’s head, he guided him into a kiss.
"Okay?"
Bruce nodded. "Yeah."
They kissed again. Clark started moving, a slow pace and his thumb playing with the head of Bruce's cock. His other hand he held still on Bruce's hips, steadying both of them.
Bruce already started clenching around him, moving with him, milking him, but Clark wanted it to last so he used the hand on his hip to keep him in place, letting him know what he wanted.
Their paces often clashed. Clark liked to take things slow, whether that was topping or bottoming. He wanted to feel every inch of Bruce, while Bruce liked things rough, fast. Hurting. And most of the time, Clark couldn't bring himself to do that, even though it was probably the biggest display of Bruce's trust in him. Sometimes it worked though. Bruce knew just which buttons to push to get Clark to do exactly what he wanted. And then it was fast, messy, and loud. Not right now, though. Right now he just wanted to make Bruce feel how he deserved to feel, treat him how he deserved to be treated.
He just… needed to take time to commit it all to memory. Slow.
"Take it slow,” he mouthed into Bruce’s ear.
"Thought you were on a short break." Up. Bruce's breath hitched.
"I'll just say I was out talking to a source."
Out. Clark reveled in Bruce's warmth and tightness around him.
"I'll be your source. Ask me"
"Okay." Up. A moan. "Mr. Wayne, any comments on the accusations of regulatory arbitrage tactics deployed by your company?"
"Ohhh," Bruce moaned. "Talk dirty to me some more, reporter."
"You like that?" Clark punctuated with a thrust. "You find and exploit loopholes in regional laws, to push your products."
"To get our products… to more countries…" Bruce made eye contact with him. "Are you going to expose me?"
"All of you, yes"
"Like this?"
"Just like this" Clark was whispering in his ear now, punctuating the last word with another thrust. They kissed. Bruce's hand joined Clark's on his dick, and started stroking where Clark had still only been thumbing the head. He grabbed Bruce's wrist and pulled his hand away again.
"Wanna make you cum untouched."
"Try harder then, babe," Bruce said smugly, but obeyed and put his hand back on the headboard.
Clark looked down between them, located his prostate using his x-ray vision, and pushed at it dead on. Bruce gasped, his strong back momentarily faltering, shaking.
Clark lined up better, only pulling out an inch or so every time before pushing back in, massaging him. He wanted to do better. Make Bruce completely forget where he was and how they got there.
"I'm gonna vibrate, okay?" A whisper and a lick in Bruce's ear, to which Bruce nodded, gripping the headboard tighter, knuckles turning white.
Still, as soon as he started up, Bruce buckled back towards him, they fell back a bit. Clark caught him.
"Better if I lie down," Bruce whimpered.
He rearranged them, Bruce's face in the pillows, one underneath his hips, and Clark covering him top to bottom. He slid back in easily. "Let's try that again, shall we?"
Bruce moaned affirmatively. Then he started up, bucking in and out of Bruce slowly at first, increasing the speed little by little, until he was sure he felt better than that damn toy. His longitudinal movements were less than an inch, but he hit Bruce's prostate every time.
"You like that, babe?" He needed to hear it. Needed to hear Bruce say it.
"Y-yeah…"
He mouthed at the back of Bruce's neck, his hair, still sweat-soaked from his workout. Not a single puff of air fit between their bodies, and Clark used his weight on Bruce, which he knew he liked. Keep him in place, just to take it and let Clark do everything. This was Bruce completely surrendering to Clark. He still wanted to be closer, somehow.
"I love you," he whispered. Bruce used his free arm to grab the back of Clark's head, closer. Closer.
He felt Bruce's toes starting to curl, the muscles in his legs trembling. Almost there. Just a little nudge to get him to where he wanted him. "Love it when you're all ready and opened up for me…"
"Y-you were jealous of a toy, Clark. That was an expensive one by the way."
"What do you mean," Clark asked innocently, slowing down for a second and pulling back out fully before thrusting back in, hard. He started vibrating again. " I am your toy. You can do whatever you want with me."
"What do you mean? That's what I'm doing right now."
"Got me right where you wanted me, huh?" Clark needed to slow down, didn't want to make Bruce cum quite yet. He moaned angrily at the loss of pressure on his prostate.
"You want me to make you cum?"
"That's the point, isn't it?" It clearly cost Bruce some effort to talk back like that, but he was still talking back.
"You want me to make you cum?" He asked again, speeding up. Not quite deep enough. Not quite right.
"Y-yeah"
"I still don't hear the magic word," Clark said as he levitated up slightly, pushed his hands onto Bruce's shoulder blades.
"Make me…" Bruce's voice reverberated through the layers of muscles, fat, and skin under Clark’s hand, his usual rumble not so composed anymore.
Clark made long strokes, in and out, hitting his target every time, but not enough, not quite milking Bruce. That didn't stop Bruce from trying on him though, clenching and releasing. Pushing back. Clark didn’t let him reach it.
"Please… Clark.." And there it was. Still coherent but good enough for today.
"Yes, dear," He replied calmly, kissed his ear. "Why didn't you just ask?"
"F-fuck…yeah" Bruce moaned. It disappeared into a series of cries, in tandem with Clark's grunts and long, hard, and punctuated strokes hitting just right.
Bruce shuddered and came, clenching down on Clark. His seed spilled onto the pillow he was humping into, the sound of it rushing through his cock pushing Clark over the edge as well.
This was what made Clark cum the hardest, pleasing Bruce, making him feel ways he'd never felt before. He often dreaded pulling out after and preferred to stay sheathed inside. They had tried with Clark pulling out and coming on Bruce's back exactly once but it had been such an obscene amount that Bruce had asked him to "never do that again please" and that he "much preferred feeling you fill me up and keeping me stuffed" which of course had made Clark so hard again that he'd still done that afterwards anyway, dried up cum on Bruce's back and all.
Regardless of what or how they did though, it always led to one of Clark's favorite activities, granting they had enough time, like now. Cleaning Bruce up.
He laid still on top of Bruce for a moment, after the last wave of his orgasm receded, and enjoyed feeling his own cum seep out past the base of his cock where he was still flush with Bruce's ass. Bruce's breathing and heartbeat slowed down. Better to pull out now, before everything dried up too much.
Bruce grunted annoyedly at the loss of contact but didn't show many other signs of life. Clark sat back on his haunches, admiring how ravished Bruce looked for a moment, before pulling him gently up on his knees a bit, his ass more exposed this way. Clark's cum trickled out.
He kissed him there. Licked a stripe from the inside of his leg, where a single drop had landed, up to his gaping hole. Parted his cheeks.
He licked all across the rim, loosened and red and swollen from Clark's work. Then he dipped inside, his tongue not filling Bruce up all the way anymore, tasted himself there. A low long moan escaped Bruce, into his pillow and fading into sighs as Clark continued dipping in and out, careful not to abuse his hole more than it already had been. "Clark .." he croaked, voice hoarse, muscles trembling under Clark's hands. Sensitive. Good.
"Almost done, honey."
Bruce just tasted so good. He tasted so good in Bruce, on him. If there were time, Clark could do this for the remainder of his lunch break, until Bruce was ready again, and make him cum just like this, with his tongue. Then end with a long lick up his cock and that would do it.
Not today, though. Bruce was fading off into sleep and if Clark still wanted some quality pillow talk time with him before going back to work he should stop now.
Some well placed open mouthed kisses on his rim had Bruce moaning again. Clark sat back, admired his own work, his lover comfortably on the bed. He decided Bruce was clean enough, and kissed a long and slow trail up his sweaty back, ending almost the exact way he'd started earlier.
"Hey," he said, flopping down on the soft pillows next to Bruce.
"Hey," Bruce mumbled. He had his eyes closed, arms around the pillow and straightened his legs again. Relaxed in a way they rarely achieved.
"Got exactly what you wanted?" He asked.
"Hmm. Enjoyed your lunch break?" Bruce replied groggily. Still, not missing a beat.
"Tremendously. Food was good."
Bruce breathed a muffled laugh.
They kissed. Open mouthed and slow and at an awkward angle. Perfect. Clark wished it could always be like this.
"Ready for round two?" Bruce asked, having felt Clark's boner, which had not really diminished after his orgasm. It almost never did after the first one.
"Don't worry about it, it'll go away."
"Not like this." They kissed again. Bruce tasted so good. His hand drifted down to Clark's cock, started stroking lazily, slowly. Clark grabbed his wrist and pulled him away.
"It's okay, B. You did so much already. You were so good."
Bruce frowned, and fuck if that didn't look adorable on him right now, and if Clark didn't want to face fuck him, just like this. But he had to get back to work at some point.
"Please tell me you're not going to blue ball yourself."
"I'm not. I'm saving it for tonight. Have to keep you here somehow on your weekly night off."
"My forced weekly night off.” He closed his eyes. “Does that mean you'll take tonight off too?"
"You know I try," He whispered apologetically. "And, I just came. That's not exactly blue balling. It was good.”
Bruce hummed in agreement. "I'm glad you enjoyed your present."
"I'm glad you enjoyed your toy." It was just… so easy with Bruce.
Clark started getting up from the bed, and planted another kiss on Bruce's hair as he did. "Will you take a shower before you fall asleep?"
"Hnn." That was a no. After, then. Or he could come back here right after work and have Bruce again in the shower.
“Are you actually writing about WE’s dealing with international laws?” Bruce turned over on his side, to get a better look at Clark while he was looking for all the parts of his suit. One boot had ended up under the bed. And damn him and his quick to reboot mind. “Because we should set-up an actual appointment for that. I’ll let you see some papers, numbers. Do it formally.”
“Yeah,” Clark answered his first question, smiling cheekily at Bruce as he fished the bottom half of his suit off the floor. "I am. You’re right. we've got to stop meeting like this, Mr Wayne."
"And whose fault was that? You've got to learn to resist me doing a simple workout better, Clark. I say that all the time."
"Hey, I was doing fine during your workout." Bruce frowned. "Okay. I was doing okay. But you had to go and shove a vibrator up your ass afterwards. You try to work and listen to that."
"I deal with the urges all the time, too. Get a grip, Kent."
"Like you did when you fucked me in the watchtower after the meeting last week? Excuse me," Clark added and lifted the bed with Bruce on it to get his boot.
"I at least had the decency to wait until after the meeting."
Clark sighed, sat down on the bed and put his boots on. "You're insufferable."
"I've heard that before."
Bruce sat up more on the bed now, Clark twisted his torso to face him, fully dressed in his suit again. "I wonder where," Clark smiled into the kiss.
When he pulled back, Bruce ran a finger through Clark's hair, placing the curl back just right.
"I'll see you tonight?"
Bruce nodded sternly. A promise. His fingers lingered on Clark's cheek.
Another kiss with tongue. “Hmm,” he grimaced. "You really need to brush your teeth before talking to anyone at work."
Clark smiled, nodded, and got up. By the time he opened the door and looked back, Bruce had nestled himself into his blankets, and started to drift off.
Maybe he had been successful after all.
Flying back to Metropolis, Clark tuned his hearing to the daily planet again. The rustling papers, the printing press in the basement, tapping on keys, phones ringing and spilling of coffee drowned out Bruce’s slow breathing again. Several people were saying his name, Perry was tapping his pen impatiently.
At least he hopefully had some quiet time with Bruce to look forward to tonight.