Bruce’s lips tasted like cherries and black coffee. It was intoxicating to a man that couldn’t even get intoxicated. Clark’s heart bet rapidly in his chest as his hands grasped on Bruce’s hips tightly so they wouldn’t roam.
Bruce bit at his bottom lip, wanting more of a taste, but Clark’s skin was impenetrable. So he did the next best thing: he tugged at his hair and swallowed every sound.
“Bruce,” he moaned, pulling him closer so that their hearts beat as one. “Bruce, Bruce, Bruce,” he repeated like a hymn—like he was praying and begging all at once. “Clark,” he said back, his suit jacket half off and crumpled.
“We shouldn’t be doing this, it’s wrong.” Clark whispered into Bruce’s neck and he peppered kissed all over his exposed skin. He wanted more—needed more. He’d held back for so long that it felt like he had a live bomb just under his skin. Bruce grasped the sides of his face, making him look at him. “Why is it wrong if you were mine first?” His voice was ragged as it wavered with agony and irritation.
“I’m a married man now, Bruce,” Bruce shook his head, connecting their foreheads as he shook his. “That doesn’t change anything. You’re still mine—you have to be.” He whispered more to himself. Clark pecked his pouting lips once, then twice, then another before Bruce finally kissed his back.
“You’re all mine, Clark. She can’t have your heart the way I can.” He spoke in desperation. Bruce liked Lois, he’d pushed Clark towards her for years before this. But now having it work it, it pained him. Clark had always been just his.
The puppy at his heels waiting for attention. The man at his window waiting to be let in.
The man in his bed that kept the terrors away.
Now he belonged to someone else, and that someone else was kind, smarter than anyone in the field, and beautiful. Bruce couldn’t be mad at anyone but himself because, truly, she was perfect for his Clark.
“She can’t.” Clark spoke, breaking their kiss. “My heart will forever be yours.” He kissed his temple before kissing his neck and moving down words.
As Clark sat on his knees unbuttoning his dress pants, he looked out one of the windows. They were far enough away in the barn on the Kent farm. From here he could see the party and everyone enjoying themselves.
He watched as Lois looked around for Clark, asking others where he was just as Clark stuck his cock in his mouth. A feeling of triumph raising bumps on his skin as Clark’s hands grips his ass and pushed him further into his mouth.
Clark’s before neatly styled hair was a mess in his hands. This was just how it always shall be. Clark entirely his for just a moment before they had to return to reality.
But even then, in the shadows, it was truth.