clark kent who’s pretty inexperienced with men but really wants to explore his options—except he’s embarrassed about his naïveté and goes to the only person he knows won’t judge or make fun of him for help: bruce wayne.
now—is it a smart decision to start fucking your best friend, whom you've started to develop feelings for, under the guise of experimentation? absolutely not. but clark just has to get through it for a while so he can use his new skills on other men to get over bruce.
it's a sound plan. there's no way it could go wrong. at all.
and bruce—who hasn't had genuinely meaningful sex in forever and often uses it as a tool to maintain his reputation—agrees without protest. sure, clark is his friend who's trusting him, so bruce will definitely put more thought into how he approaches things to ensure comfort, but it's just another hookup to him. he genuinely has no romantic feelings for clark, which is why he sees no harm in helping him out.
and anyway, clark has been all mopey around the cave lately, sticking around bruce more often than not. bruce figures if he helps clark gain confidence in the bedroom, clark can go and find a partner, and then he won't be distant or sad on patrols anymore, or hang around the cave all the time when he thinks bruce doesn't notice how long he's been there for.
cue a horrifically complicated swirl of emotions on both ends, and by the time bruce is satisfied with clark's proficiency and confidence, clark knows with dreadful certainty that bruce has ruined him for anyone else. the mere idea of bringing another man to his apartment and smelling the wrong cologne or grasping a different hand has clark's skin crawling.
but he has no plausible reason to continue the arrangement he has with bruce. not without giving himself away, at least. and despite how gentle and kind and careful bruce has been with him, clark is almost positive that's how he treats everyone in bed; bruce is just that considerate.
which means there's absolutely no proof bruce reciprocates his feelings, and despite not wanting to, clark has to try and move on.
on the other side of things, bruce is slowly spiralling into madness.
the more they fuck—the more he sees clark panting beneath him, slick lips parted to let out the most obscene noises, eyes glossy with unshed tears, gripping at bruce as hard as bruce grips at him—the more bruce realizes how absolutely screwed he is.
he can't let clark go. he can't survive seeing clark happy and satisfied with another man when bruce knows what he feels like and sounds like and tastes like.
but clark came to him in a moment of extreme vulnerability and asked for his help. bruce would be a horrible kind of man if he took advantage of the trust clark put in him to handle things safely and amicably. he can't act on it. he won't.
it all comes to a head on a long, boring patrol.
they're perched together on a roof, gotham surprisingly silent beneath them. bruce asks clark if he's found anyone yet. he isn't sure if he's honestly curious or just interested in torturing himself.
clark shyly admits that no, he hasn't. nobody's felt right yet.
bruce ignores the spike of hope in his chest. he already resolved not to do anything. he can't go back now even if it has been a few months. he asks through a firm jaw what the "right" person might feel like.
"like you," clark says immediately, and bruce's head whips around so fast to meet his eye his neck cracks. clark slaps a palm over his mouth, his face darkening under the moonlight.
"like...me," bruce repeats, his eyes wide, heart pounding against his ribs.
"i shouldn't have said that," clark says in a rush. "i'm so sorry. please, just ignore me—" he lifts off the roof, drifting away. "i'll—i'll just go."
bruce wraps his fist up in clark's cape and yanks him back down before he even registers what he's doing. clark blinks at him with cautious eyes, sandwiched between bruce and the door leading to the top floor of the building, his chest heaving.
"tell me the truth," bruce begins, tilting his head downward, closer to clark's. "do you want someone like me, or do you want me?"
clark's eyes flicker between bruce's, clearly trying to gauge his intent. more than once, his gaze strays lower, to bruce's mouth.
bruce slides his free hand up clark's back, letting his fingers drag into the hair at the base of clark's skull. he feels clark shiver. "tell me the truth," bruce says again, tugging on the strands.
"just you," clark pants, wetting his mouth. he grips at bruce's cape and tugs him closer until they're flush. "only you."
bruce surges forward, crashing their mouths together in a desperate, relieving kiss. clark responds beautifully, opening his mouth and making those noises bruce has missed sorely.
they grapple on the rooftop, landing in a heap with bruce on top. they don't get far enough to need lube—just grinding hard against each other, filthy and wet and together.
it's different than any other night they've shared, and better for it.
2087
titsay
gracieabrams
germansingergirl
