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p> When they made love….no, when they had sex it was all fire and passion. The heat of it dug through Bruce like a branding iorn on flesh, boring Clark’s possession over him through his body and into his soul. It scared him. Not much could scare the Batman, but this….this was terrifying.
It wasn’t even just the sex. When ever Clark was around, Bruce felt like he was lighter than air, that if he were to breath out to heavily he would fly away. It might be better that way, he supposed, save him the pain of losing Clark, because that’s what this fear was. He was afraid to lose him, to lose this.
It wasn’t just sex, not anymore anyways. It hard started like that. Clark got under Bruce’s skin just right, and it left the stoic man wondering if those strong hands would bruise his hips, or gently stroke up his back in fear of hurting him. The answer was both. But no, sex was no longer the glue holding them together. They had seen too much, done too much for their relationship to be as flimsy as that.
They were brothers at arms, soldiers fighting to save the world from certain doom. They were co-conspirators, the two of them actively hiding their true selves from the world, adopting personas and going to great lengths to keep them. The were fathers. They had each raised children and watched those children grow and prosper, and sometimes suffer for their father’s neglegence. In those times they comforted eachother with soft touches and gentle words.
No, Superman and Batman could no longer exist with out the other. True their lives often meant that they were towns apart, unable to see or hear from eachother for days, but Clark would always show up at Bruce’s door, flowers in hand, a soft smile splitting his too perfect face. It left Bruce euphoric and joyful.
Bruce was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. There was no way this was meant for him, no way he’d get it that easy. Bruce kept waiting for an enemy to make the connection and bam, that’s it, no more Superman. They would find a way to kill the unkillable, and it would break Bruce like no other death had, because no other person made him feel this way. Without Clark he was just Batman, without Clark he was a tool.
Clark roused next to him and grumbled softly “Stop acting so pensive in the middle of the night.” He pressed a soft kiss to Bruce’s neck “I can feel your brooding over here…there’s no need to be so dramatic Bruce.” Bruce chuckled softly and ran his fingers up Clark’s back “Oh, you have no idea.”