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It’s late in Gotham, the Batcave is softly illuminated. The air feels thick and tense. Clark is on edge, seeing Bruce bruised, injured, and exhausted after their mission today.
Still, Bruce tries to brush off his injuries, “I’m fine. I’ve dealt with worse injuries on a regular basis.”
Clark’s internal conflict is bubbling inside of him. He wants to maintain professionality with his coworker, but he also has an overpowering desire to claim Bruce as his own. His alpha instincts get stronger every time he works with Bruce on missions. However, Bruce isn’t just any omega - he’s made it very clear to many people that he wants to be independent and not have a claiming bite. While Clark helps Bruce into the medbay, his inner alpha is already simmering below the surface of his skin.
Clark helps Bruce onto the examination table, telling him firmly, “We need to examine your injuries.”
Bruce reminds him, “I can do that by myself.” Clark is used to being in control - but with Bruce? He’s restraining himself, and his inner alpha is frustrated. Bruce looks annoyed by Clark’s subtle hovering, “You’re being paranoid about my state, Clark. I’m not made of glass.”
Bruce reaches to the side to grab a bottle of antiseptic when Clark reaches out and grabs Bruce’s wrist, gently but firmly. Despite Bruce wearing a scent patch, the subtle power play sends a shock of heat through Bruce, causing him to look irritated. Clark takes the antiseptic bottle and begins to clean Bruce’s wounds for him. It doesn’t take long for Bruce’s omega scent to respond to the affection that Clark is giving him.
Bruce tries to pull away, but Clark is firm. Based on his scent, it's clear that he’s just being stubborn for show. It causes Clark’s inner alpha to preen happily - Clark’s attraction isn’t just lust; it’s a deep and primal need to claim the man. To mark Bruce in a way that leaves no question about the nature of their bond.
Finally, once the bruises are cleaned, Clark moves to help Bruce out of the damaged chest armor. It's a slow process, as many pieces have broken off, causing Clark to take his time pulling them off. When Clark gets to the largest piece, he takes it off gingerly - his fingers linger longer than necessary on Bruce’s skin-tight shirt below the armor. Bruce noticed and shot him a glance, but Clark continued to feel over Bruce’s chest and shoulders. It was clear that Bruce’s omega instincts were responding to Clark’s alpha proximity.
Bruce’s voice is softer now as he almost whimpers, “Clark.” Clark looks up, realizing that their faces are mere inches apart. Both of them hold their breath, afraid to exhale. Clark kryptonian senses pick up on the slight changes in Bruce’s body language - the weight shifting to move just slightly closer, his heart pounding in his chest, his eyes are half-lidded, the faint scent of arousal underneath the usual indifference. Bruce…wants this, at least his body does.
Clark knows that he’s dangerously close to crossing a line that he can’t uncross, but the possessiveness of his inner alpha demands that he acts before he loses his chance.
Clark’s fingers move to brush Bruce’s dark locks away from his neck, exposing the pulse point on his neck. Bruce’s breath hitches as Clark moves closer, kissing the pulse point below Bruce’s ear. Clark covers the spot with affection, gentle and tender, but with an underlying sense of urgency to claim. The air is thick with sexual tension as Clark opens his mouth and bites down - not too hard, just enough to leave a claiming mark.
Bruce hisses at the pain of being claimed; he feels a mix of pleasure and shock, even as his inner omega relishes the feeling. He can feel the mark clearly as it cements their bond. Bruce feels conflicted - he should be fighting, he should hate the feeling of losing his freedom, but…there’s something innate intoxicating about being claimed by such a sweet, powerful alpha. Clark makes his body hum in a way that he can’t ignore.
Clark moves his lips away from Bruce’s neck, looking carefully at the mark he left behind. His fingers trace it over as he feels the connection between them - it’s not about control; it’s about making Bruce feel wanted, protected, and special beyond something purely physical.
Bruce becomes more lucid, realizing that he let his omega desires take control. He feels confused, mixed with a hint of rage and tenderness. He’s quick to tell Clark, “This…changes nothing between us.”
Clark’s voice is heavy and breathy as he asks, “So…the arousal you feel for me isn’t something you want?” Bruce is blushing at the sound of that. Clark almost begs as he asks, “Can…I claim your body? Gently, of course…I will never push you past your comfort zone.”
Bruce looked away, saying, “Preposterous…that you would even ask.” However, there was a growing blush on his face. Bruce looked back at Clark, saying, “You can’t have my body this time, but…if you want to use your mouth, I…wouldn’t be opposed.”
Clark didn’t hesitate - he pulled down Bruce’s trousers, exposing his slightly hard cock. Oh, Clark would love to breed Bruce right now, but he respected the man’s autonomy. If he was allowing Clark to suck his cock, Clark wasn't about to complain.
Clark opened his mouth and took Bruce in, savoring Bruce’s musk and taste. Bruce hissed - he hadn’t had any type of sex in a while, and Clark was worshipping his cock like it was the most delicious thing in the world. Clark’s eyes met Bruce’s as he bobbed up and down - the message he was giving was clear: Bruce was HIS omega, and he was going to cherish him.
Even as Bruce came, Clark didn’t stop meeting his gaze. He swallowed every drop and pulled off of Bruce’s cock with a soft ‘pop’. Clark emanated a possessive growl, one which Bruce returned - most omegas would quiver at an alpha’s growl, but Bruce was not that kind of omega.
And Clark loved that about him.