Thighs trembling, Bruce rested limply on the floor as the last few drops of cum were milked from his cock. The coils slowly slipped away, sinking back into the murky pool. Clark curled in on himself after he was released, arms wrapped loosely over his abdomen. However, he kept his head turned, blearily watching Bruce though he did not have strength enough to go to him.
Bruce lay still after he was released, his chest heaving. The retreat of the tentacles left him gaping. Creamy ejaculate seeped between his thighs, clinging to his skin.
The console chirped. “Breeding compatibility results available.”
“Shut up.” Bruce kicked weakly at the console. Laboriously, he rolled over onto his knees, fingers fumbling along his belt, which miraculously still hung at his waist.
“First specimen appears to be Kryptonian, with some modified physiology.”
“Clark?” Bruce glanced at him and Clark squeezed his eyes shut. Bruce dragged open the compartment of his belt and crawled into the pool.
“Second specimen is of unknown origin. Physical anatomy is similar to that of a Kryptonian male. Neither is a suitable candidate for carrying offspring. However, both demonstrated enough flexibility to suggest their bodies could host--”
Bruce slammed a flat metal disk against the surface of the console. It sputtered momentarily, before falling silent.
“What did you do?” Clark mumbled.
“I disrupted its power supply.” Wincing, Bruce dragged himself back up onto the ramp.
Then he noticed Clark’s distress. “Clark?” He approached him, touching his shoulder lightly. “Are you hurt?”
Clark did not know what to tell him, not when he scarcely understood what had happened himself. He clutched at his stomach as his insides seemed to spasm, cramping.
“Can you sit up?”
With Bruce’s help, Clark sat up on his knees. He still refused to meet his gaze, hands folded over his stomach.
Bruce stared for a moment, before reaching out to touch his swollen stomach. “Is there-” he started, then began again, “It left something inside you?”
Exhaling shakily, Clark nodded. “Yeah,” he breathed.
“Can you push it out?”
“I’ll try.” Clark bowed his head.He was exhausted, barely able to summon the strength to be ashamed of himself as Bruce leaned over him, eyes intent on his naked body. He pushed, trembling as the object stretched him, before finally slipping out.
For a few seconds, they both stared at the small, round sac that rested on the floor. It was light pink, translucent and utterly foreign-looking despite its innately organic form.
Clark whimpered and swayed as another round of cramps hit him. Hands at his back, Bruce caught him, lowering him gently to the floor. He remained at his side, one hand tight on his forearm as Clark pushed another half-dozen orbs from his body.
When it was over, Bruce let him rest, head pillowed on the remnants of his cape. Turning towards him, Clark watched as Bruce planted charges to blow the door open. “Are we going to talk about this later?”
Keeping his back to him, Bruce replied, “I’d rather not, unless it’s to agree that Kryptonian technology is best left alone.”
Clark choked out a laugh, then put his fingers to his sore throat. Bruce turned back to him, tapping at the detonator. With a muffled bang, the door was blown away, individual sheets clattering down in the hallway outside. Clark breathed in deeply as fresh air flowed in.
Bruce offered a hand, pulling him upright. However, Clark did not let go when he found his feet. “Bruce,” he gripped tightly at him, keeping him close. “I hope you know I won’t think any differently of you after this.”
Shifting restlessly, Bruce inhaled and met his gaze. Absent his cowl, his face seemed unusually open, emotions accessible. “The same for you, Clark.”
“Thank you.” Clark let him pull away. He trailed after Bruce as he stepped out the door. “And um, can I get a ride?”
****
Hey, this is my first kinkmeme post. However, it was criminal that this prompt never got a fill. I hope I'm doing this right!
FILL Bruce/Clark, tentacles, noncon [1/2]
Bruce lay still after he was released, his chest heaving. The retreat of the tentacles left him gaping. Creamy ejaculate seeped between his thighs, clinging to his skin.
The console chirped. “Breeding compatibility results available.”
“Shut up.” Bruce kicked weakly at the console. Laboriously, he rolled over onto his knees, fingers fumbling along his belt, which miraculously still hung at his waist.
“First specimen appears to be Kryptonian, with some modified physiology.”
“Clark?” Bruce glanced at him and Clark squeezed his eyes shut. Bruce dragged open the compartment of his belt and crawled into the pool.
“Second specimen is of unknown origin. Physical anatomy is similar to that of a Kryptonian male. Neither is a suitable candidate for carrying offspring. However, both demonstrated enough flexibility to suggest their bodies could host--”
Bruce slammed a flat metal disk against the surface of the console. It sputtered momentarily, before falling silent.
“What did you do?” Clark mumbled.
“I disrupted its power supply.” Wincing, Bruce dragged himself back up onto the ramp.
Then he noticed Clark’s distress. “Clark?” He approached him, touching his shoulder lightly. “Are you hurt?”
Clark did not know what to tell him, not when he scarcely understood what had happened himself. He clutched at his stomach as his insides seemed to spasm, cramping.
“Can you sit up?”
With Bruce’s help, Clark sat up on his knees. He still refused to meet his gaze, hands folded over his stomach.
Bruce stared for a moment, before reaching out to touch his swollen stomach. “Is there-” he started, then began again, “It left something inside you?”
Exhaling shakily, Clark nodded. “Yeah,” he breathed.
“Can you push it out?”
“I’ll try.” Clark bowed his head.He was exhausted, barely able to summon the strength to be ashamed of himself as Bruce leaned over him, eyes intent on his naked body. He pushed, trembling as the object stretched him, before finally slipping out.
For a few seconds, they both stared at the small, round sac that rested on the floor. It was light pink, translucent and utterly foreign-looking despite its innately organic form.
Clark whimpered and swayed as another round of cramps hit him. Hands at his back, Bruce caught him, lowering him gently to the floor. He remained at his side, one hand tight on his forearm as Clark pushed another half-dozen orbs from his body.
When it was over, Bruce let him rest, head pillowed on the remnants of his cape. Turning towards him, Clark watched as Bruce planted charges to blow the door open. “Are we going to talk about this later?”
Keeping his back to him, Bruce replied, “I’d rather not, unless it’s to agree that Kryptonian technology is best left alone.”
Clark choked out a laugh, then put his fingers to his sore throat. Bruce turned back to him, tapping at the detonator. With a muffled bang, the door was blown away, individual sheets clattering down in the hallway outside. Clark breathed in deeply as fresh air flowed in.
Bruce offered a hand, pulling him upright. However, Clark did not let go when he found his feet. “Bruce,” he gripped tightly at him, keeping him close. “I hope you know I won’t think any differently of you after this.”
Shifting restlessly, Bruce inhaled and met his gaze. Absent his cowl, his face seemed unusually open, emotions accessible. “The same for you, Clark.”
“Thank you.” Clark let him pull away. He trailed after Bruce as he stepped out the door. “And um, can I get a ride?”
****
Hey, this is my first kinkmeme post. However, it was criminal that this prompt never got a fill. I hope I'm doing this right!