serendipity. [superbat]

discovery i.

a/n: might need editing. sry. xo.

Bruce had an effect on people. He was aware of it. It was something that came with practice along with the star power his name held. He made men fall to their knees so easily, made women swoon so effortlessly. The charm he managed to manufacture to perfection worked wonders. That combined with the fact that he usually held no actual interest in a person and he was able to hold their interest in almost any scenario. He didn't fold. He didn't get overwhelmed like some overly excited teen. He knew how to be patient.

Though, this was different. It was clearly going to be different. He couldn't prepare for this. Clark feels like he's trying to consume Bruce. He's relaxed with every new sound he's able to pull from Bruce's lips, clearly logging each one in his head. If he nipped at the shell of Bruce's ear, what did that get him? Biting a nipple? Squeezing his thighs? Clark's mouth is eager, his hands are roaming Bruce's body as if he's trying to commit it to memory, and his body is radiating enough heat to keep a small country warm. He seemed to be everywhere all at once. Bruce feels like he's going to combust at this rate.

It's enough to have him sputtering for air, panting so hard he could see the concern momentarily flicker in Clark's eyes. His brows furrow and edges of his mouth turn down in a frown as Bruce presses his palms against his chest and gives a weak shove. 

He's thinking over the words carefully in his head, how he can delicately explain that he's got a good three minutes left in him before he embarrasses himself.

"Sensing overstimulation..." The computer buzzes. 

Something about the comment seems to answer Clark's unspoken questions as his brow smooths and he leans up to give Bruce some space. 

"You should finish eating." Clark hums, pushing further off of Bruce and moving so that he can peel himself off of the bottom of the shallow pool. 

He pulls himself up, ignoring the sharp smell of arousal that's in the air and the weight between his legs and hoists himself up to stare into the macaroni and cheese he'd abandoned. He pretends to have a renewed interest in the food while Clark hovered over his back like he was afraid to get too far away. 

Bruce takes one bite and Clark's back to having his hands on him, large palms running up and down his sides as he presses his chest up against Bruce's back. Eventually, by the time the plates cleared, he's back to pressing kisses against Bruce's neck, cock hot against Bruce's back even through the thin layer of his boxers.

Though, he keeps it at that for the time being. The pause without any pain or anger gives Bruce time to think. His mind immediately wanders to Diana and how she's going to rip him a new one for not even thinking to shoot her a text to let her know that he's not dead. He sighs at the thought and can basically feel Clark's ear perk up with the proximity.

"What is it?" A muffled mumble comes from somewhere behind him.

"Diana..." he mutters without thinking.

It was like the man had turned his brain into putty. Bruce isn't great at a lot of socially related things. He'd had to basically practice not being a recluse for most of his childhood and teen years. Though, he was very good at thinking things over before they came out of his mouth. He knew how to calculate risks.

He realizes his mistake instantly as Clark freezes in his ministrations. He waits the same way he would if he were listening out for screams in the distance as a natural disaster hit somewhere in the world. 

"If I don't tell her where I am every couple of hours, she thinks I'm dead in a dark alley somewhere." He quickly explains, eyes searching the room for his pants.