dceu_kinkmeme | DCEU Prompt Post #1

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DCEU Prompt Post #1

Welcome to Round One of the DCEU Kink Meme!

Please have a look at the extended rules here.

The important rules in short:

Post anonymously.
Negative comments on other people's prompts (kink-shaming, pairing-bashing etc.) and personal attacks of any kind will not be tolerated.
One prompt per comment. Warnings for common triggers and squicks are encouraged, but not required.
Prompts should follow the format: Character/character, prompt.
Keep prompts to a reasonable length; prompts should not be detailed story outlines.
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Please direct any questions to the Ask a mod post. For inspiration: list of kinks .

Prompt, write, draw, comment, and most importantly have fun! Please link to your fills on the fill post.

Here's the discussion post for all your non-prompt/fill needs.

We now have a non-DCEU prompt post for any prompts in other 'verses (comics, animated series, other movies or TV shows etc.).

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Clark moved so the dildo could slide out of his body, and he lay back down to catch his breath. He didn’t even bother to turn the machine off, since he knew he was gonna need it in a matter of minutes.

He glanced at the door, and his heart skipped a beat when he noticed it was ajar. Bruce really had been here; it wasn’t some fantasy his lust-addled brain had come up with.

And the knowledge that Bruce had been here, and had seen him get fucked by a machine while jerking off and moaning, really should make him feel ashamed and embarrassed instead of turned on and disappointed that Bruce hadn’t stayed.

He tried to drag his mind away from what could’ve happened if Bruce had stayed, if Bruce had smirked at him, looking him up and down slowly, then reaching out to wrap one of his big hands around Clark’s cock, joining in. Clark would’ve come hard, then tried to explain what was going to Bruce even while he was still being fucked by the machine.

Bruce would’ve hushed him, telling him they could discuss that later, that they had better things to do. Bruce would’ve taken his clothes off, revealing muscle and bare skin, maybe there’d be bruises and fading scars, and Clark would worry about him all over again. Bruce was human – an extraordinary human, yes – but still human and they hurt so easily, even covered in kevlar.

Bruce would’ve moved the machine away, slowly, until it slid out of Clark, and he’d give the machine an interested look, as if he was already working out how to improve it, and then he’d settle between Clark’s thighs, smirking down as Clark lay there, still a little dazed from his orgasm and Bruce’s presence, but already feeling hot and needy and desperate and Clark would grab Bruce’s shoulders and pull him closer – trying to be careful and not hurt him, and Bruce would move with him, lie on top of him, a warm body against his own, and he’d enjoy that for a moment before pulling back so he could slide his thick, hard cock inside Clark.

He wouldn’t need any prepping, still open from the machine, but Bruce would feel so much better, he would be bigger and stretch Clark a little, and he would slide in slowly and pull back every now and then, teasing Clark, and then he would push in hard, balls-deep, making Clark scream with how good it felt to be filled by a real cock, not the cool metal one. Bruce would take him hard, thrusting in deep, a different rhythm from the machine, and it would feel good, so good, and maybe then the itch inside of him would finally be sufficiently scratched.

Clark whimpered, feeling the lust take over. Bruce was already gone, disgusted no doubt by what he had seen, and all Clark had was a machine that could only just take the edge off. Oh, the machine had multiple settings, there was even a hole for him to fuck, but he had tried that and it wasn’t as satisfying. There was nothing to touch or caress or hold.

He moved down the bed, lifting his head so he could get the dildo back in. He groaned as it pumped inside of him. Bruce’s dick would’ve felt so much better. Or maybe Bruce wouldn’t mind switching it up and getting fucked. He could straddle Clark, lowering himself and letting Clark penetrate him.

Clark wrapped his hand around his cock again, closing his eyes and imagining that, imagining Bruce gasping as Clark’s cock filled him, Bruce riding him and loving every second of it.

The orgasm cleared his brain for a moment, and the guilt slunk back in. He wasn’t supposed to jerk off or fantasise about Bruce, he was supposed to figure out why his body had decided that what it needed was sex, and lots of it, never enough. Had he gone into heat, like some animals did? Nothing in his database had mentioned that, but then there were lots of things that the database didn’t mention, like this machine that Clark had stumbled across months ago and after figuring out what it did, had put away, glad he hadn’t had company.

Maybe it was a side-effect of being on Earth? Maybe it was a new type of Kryptonite? A poison? If only his mind would focus on something besides sex and how good it felt to lie here and be fucked.

Clark sighed, hoping this would be over soon. He needed answers in order to stop this from happening again. He couldn’t go through another round of this.

*

When he returned to the Daily Planet, Perry yelled at him about sick leave and five days without hearing from him and then put him to work on some puff piece about a bakery that had been in the same family for a hundred years, and Clark figured that it could’ve been worse and if he played his cards right, he might get some free donuts out of it.

He went to work, both on the article and his side-project of figuring out what was wrong with him, but even after spending a week sifting through the database and other information available to him, he wasn’t any closer to finding an answer. He did consider asking Kara if she knew anything, but the idea of calling his cousin and going ‘so, have you ever felt the need to have sex for five days straight?’ was a mortifying one.

Surely he could figure this one out himself?

Or. Well. There was one other person who knew about it. Or at least, knew a little bit about it, and had the resources and intelligence to help him find an answer.

The thought of telling Bruce and asking him for help was even more mortifying than the thought of asking Kara, but he knew that if anyone could help him find an answer, it was Bruce. Maybe it was something that only affected male Kryptonians, and if it had something to do with the Earth’s sun, Kara wouldn’t know anything about it anyway.

He hadn’t heard from Bruce since his visit – and once Clark’s brain was able of rational thought, the evidence was even more damning than a door that was ajar. He definitely needed a word with Bruce about breaking into his Fortress. Sure, he had agreed that Bruce could visit to make use of Clark’s resources, but breaking in was ridiculous.

Perhaps that was the key to getting Bruce to help him. Anger was better than shame, and if Clark explained things clinically, they could both put the awkward moment behind them and work together to find a solution. He couldn’t stand the thought of never being able to work with Bruce again just because of something to stupid.

Hopefully, Bruce wouldn’t be too disgusted with Clark to help.

*

Arranging a meeting with Bruce took another week, and a lot of reminders from Clark and eventually Alfred, until Clark could finally see him in Wayne Manor, late at night.

Bruce was still in one of his well-tailored suits, sitting behind his desk and glaring at Clark as if Clark had just punctured all the tires of the Batmobile.

It was a tempting thought.

Clark gave Bruce an awkward smile, trying to ignore the nervous squirming of his stomach. He was here for Bruce’s help, and Bruce would surely enjoy lording that over Clark, and Clark would take Bruce’s smugness happily if it meant talking to the other man again.

“So, you broke into my Fortress.”

There was the tiniest of flinches from Bruce, but he quickly got back to glaring. “I called. You didn’t pick up.”

“You still broke into my Fortress.”

“If all you want to do is yell at me, you could’ve done that over the phone. Same if you needed security advice.” Bruce got up. “If that is all, I have better things to do.”

“Wait.” Clark jumped up as well, licking his lips nervously. “About… the other thing.”

Bruce’s shoulders stiffened. “What other thing?”

“The other thing in the Fortress. That you saw.”

“I didn’t see anything.” The denial came too fast, too hurried, and Clark could hear Bruce’s heartbeat speed up.

“I can’t figure out why it happened,” Clark told him, deciding to bite the bullet. “It was the first time that happened to me, and I need to know how to prevent it.”

Bruce frowned at him. “Prevent it? But you were…” He gestured vaguely at Clark. “I mean, I have no idea what was going on, since I didn’t see anything.”

Well, if Bruce wanted to go with denial, Clark could work with that. It was better than disgust and sneers. “It seems to have been a biological response to an unknown trigger,” he explained, folding his hands in front of him. “It lasted for five days, although the week before it started, I was already feeling restless and on edge.” Which he had noticed, but could only explain now.

Bruce stared at him, his posture stiff and awkward, but he nodded. “Biological response?” he asked.

“One of, er, increased arousal,” Clark replied, and he knew his face was red. He glanced out the window. “Unusually increased arousal.”

“Like a heat,” Bruce muttered, and Clark nodded again. “And you want to know how to stop it from happening again?”

“Yes,” Clark replied, relieved that Bruce was looking a little intrigued now.

Yay, a second part! I love Clark's POV as much as Bruce's, the embarrassment and shame and confusion. And haha, of course getting angry at Bruce seems clearly like the way to start a conversation, they're such idiots. I also love the ending with Bruce being intrigued. Is he now? :D Love this fill so much!

*waves pompom at you*

Hmmm, good, tell me more about this heat, tell meeeee.

\o/ So thrilled to see this fill, anon! Just sorry I was too slow to comment on the first part (since I think if I reply to it now, that'll appear below and kind of throw off the subthread), because I LOVED desperate Clark and SO GUILTILY AROUSED Bruce, yessssssss. :D And now a second part! And Clark also feeling guilty, plus just grateful Bruce wasn't disgusted - MY HEART. YES.

Thank you so much for this fill, and I'm so excited for more parts!

Oooh. I'm not OP, but thank you for filling this. Quite lovely and delicious.

It was mostly the guilt that made Bruce offer Clark his help to figure what caused his, well, heat, for a lack of a better word. Guilt that he had gone into Clark’s Fortress of Solitude and then watched, but especially guilt that he still thought about that moment and jerked off over it.

He had tried not to, but the memory kept coming back to him. Clark moaning in pleasure, his skin on display, his thick cock, his muscles glistening and making it obvious Clark had been like this for a long time, how desperate he had sounded for relief, the way he had pleaded.

He had hoped that by seeing Clark regularly to take blood tests for analysis, the memory would fade and be replaced by dull, regular, every day memories of Clark, but being around him only made it worse. He would be carefully inserting a needle into the vein in Clark’s elbow, and suddenly he’d remember how Clark had used that arm to jerk himself off.

“Bruce?” Clark asked, frowning slightly at him. “If you’re getting bored with this, that’s fine. It’s been two weeks and there’s nothing different in my blood.”

Bruce harrumphed. There was nothing that could explain Clark’s heat. Not yet, anyway. “I’m not bored.”

Clark eyed him. “But do we still need to do this every day?”

Bruce eyed the blood in the vial. Clark obviously had better things to do than visit him on a daily basis just so Bruce could do another analysis of Clark’s blood that wouldn’t tell them anything. He should’ve known. “Maybe once a week will be sufficient to monitor your blood.”

Clark nodded. “I will let you know if anything changes with my…” He gestured vaguely.

“Of course.” He tried to sound clinical and calm, and tried not to think about Clark changing and becoming desperate for sex again. Part of him wanted to see Clark like that again, and he squashed that part of him down. What kind of asshole was he? Bad enough that he was still using it as jerk-off fodder.

After Clark had left, Bruce spent some time working on his blood, but there was nothing new there. He sighed, running his hand through his hair. What were they missing?

*

He didn’t see much of Clark after that, although he and Superman worked together on a few things. Somehow, asking Superman if he was feeling fine was a daunting idea and Bruce didn’t even try. Superman was in control of himself, and didn’t need to lie back on silk sheets while pleading to get fucked.

Bruce only just about managed to get out of the way from a falling beam that Superman had pushed over to stop a mook from escaping the factory they were in, and he cursed his brain. He bet Superman didn’t have that problem.

*

It was about a month later, and Bruce only worked on the problem of Clark’s heat when he needed a distraction. He managed to get his hands on data from NOAA and another couple of space weather monitoring centres from around the world, because obviously the sun had to be the cause behind this somehow.

He’d been staring at a spreadsheet for about an hour, putting in various variables and getting nothing, when he got a message from Alfred that Clark Kent was at the door.

Bruce might have run off to greet him.

*

“I feel warm,” Clark muttered, when Bruce led him into the Batcave. “Do I feel warm?”

Bruce briefly rested the back of his hand against Clark’s forehead. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a fever.”

Clark closed his eyes, leaning forward. “Maybe.”

He pulled his hand back quickly. “Do you think it’s because of…”

“Maybe,” Clark murmured, and he smiled at Bruce. His eyes seemed to be a darker shade of blue.

Bruce took a deep breath. If Clark was going to go into heat, Bruce would do the responsible thing and monitor him throughout without – without assisting him. “I’m gonna take a sample of your blood. Just sit down, okay?” He pointed Clark at one of the stools next to a lab bench.

While grabbing some equipment, he took a moment to calm himself down. He had to be careful and not get carried away. Clark needed someone right now who would help him, not someone who would just stand there and watch.

When he came back, Clark was sitting with the top two buttons of his shirt undone, and Bruce did not look at the skin on display and remember what the rest of Clark’s bare chest looked like.

He had to touch Clark’s muscular arms to get the blood, and he kept his eyes firmly on the inside of Clark’s elbow, and did not listen to Clark’s sharp intake of breath when Bruce’s fingertips brushed his skin. “Maybe we should get you to your Fortress,” he suggested.

“That might not be a bad idea,” Clark admitted.

Bruce looked up to him. His eyes looked their normal, bright blue self now, and it was strange to see Clark looking so worried. Maybe even scared? “If you’re sure, we can fly there right now.” Although maybe letting Clark fly himself was not the best idea. “I can monitor you there as well.”

Clark was silent for a long moment. “Yeah, if we want to figure out what the cause is and make sure it doesn’t happen again, it is better if you’re there.”

Bruce tried not to resent the resigned tone in Clark’s voice. He didn’t blame Clark for not wanting him there, not after last time, but he vowed to do right by Clark and control himself.

*

By the time they got to the Fortress, Clark was already hard and visibly struggling not to rub himself. Bruce tried not to look or remember what Clark’s erect cock looked like, and once they were inside, Bruce tried not to think about where Clark ran off to and what he was going to do once he got there.

He groaned as he sat down, and felt his own half-hard cock press against the fabric of his trousers. He couldn’t jerk off, not now, even if he knew he wouldn’t be disturbed by Clark, because Clark was probably busy jerking off himself. Or maybe he had found the fucking machine and was already being filled by it, moaning as it pumped in and out.

He shook his head, and pulled his hand away from his groin. No. No jerking off. He had self-control, and Clark was suffering through a heat-like thing, and Bruce would help him figure it out.

*

Clark was panting and naked and fully hard, looking up at Bruce hungrily from where he was sprawled out on the bed.

Bruce had only come here to take a blood sample to compare to the control samples, but that was proving to be more difficult than he had expected.

He had knocked, of course, before entering, and then promptly stepped back and closed the door when he saw Clark was being fucked by the machine again. He had waited for the loud groans of orgasm, hoping that a sated Clark would be cooperative.

It hadn’t entirely turned out like that.

First, Bruce had had to turn off the machine himself, and had gotten an eyeful of it stretching open Clark’s asshole as it pumped back and forth. Second, Clark had smirked at him, his blue eyes dark as he reached for Bruce’s wrist. “Good timing,” Clark had said, pulling Bruce closer.

Bruce had managed to slip out of Clark’s grip, and it had taken some convincing that he was only here for a blood sample, not for anything else, no, really, Clark, just lie still and let me do this, okay?

Clark had sulked for a moment before lying down, and there he now was, looking at Bruce like he was starving and Bruce was a feast.

Bruce reminded himself that Clark was only looking at him like that because of the heat and that he was only here to prevent this from happening again.

“Bruce, why don’t you stay?” Clark asked, pushing himself up on his elbows when Bruce gathered the vial, the needle and the other supplies once he had finished. “You’re supposed to monitor me, aren’t you?”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “Yes,” he said, and opened his eyes to look at Clark’s face, trying not to look elsewhere, but dammit, every gorgeous inch of Clark was on display, his cock jutting out proudly and inviting. “But I should analyse your blood. I will return in a few hours.”

“Do you have to do that right now?” Clark reached down to wrap his hand around his cock, and Bruce’s eyes traveled south as Clark pumped his fist slowly up and down. “You should stay, Bruce. C’mon, you’re here to help me out.”

He was, and that was why he had to go. If Clark remembered this once it was over, he would hate Bruce for not leaving. This wasn’t the real Clark; this was hormones and chemicals. The real Clark would never look at Bruce like he was the only thing that mattered. “I will return in a few hours,” he managed, then quickly walked out.

Once he felt he was a safe distance from Clark, he leaned back against the wall and shoved his hand down his trousers, seeking his own achingly hard cock. Fuck, how the hell was he supposed to deal with a horny Clark without going mad otherwise? He shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be biting back a groan while thinking about Clark all desperate for sex.

Clark had probably gone back to using the fucking machine. He was probably getting fucked by that thing right now, writhing on the bed in pleasure as his ass was being filled. Bruce closed his eyes, unable to stop the mental images, and he came after only a couple of firm, fast strokes.

He sunk down on the floor, swearing at himself for not being able to control his libido. He glanced at the vial of blood. Time to do some work.

I love Bruce's POV so much! How he's trying to be objective and clinical and helpful, how guilty he feels for wanting Clark, how he assumes that Clark doesn't really want to spend time around him.

The real Clark would never look at Bruce like he was the only thing that mattered.
RIGHT IN THE FEELS. Horny Clark is so hot, but also kind of sad, poor thing, and poor Bruce for having to resist him. (Did Clark hear him jerk off after Bruce left? ;D)

This is really great, I'm so happy you're continuing to write this. :D

You go with that iron will Bruce! I so love his inner thoughts here. And ugh the sex is so hot! Hope to see more of this!

Yeeeeeeeeees, ugh, anon, this is just such a great balance of HNG OMG and FEELINGS, so so many feelings. I'm repeating one of the other anons but it's worth saying again: I LOVE Bruce trying so ridiculously hard to stay objective and TOTALLY FAILING, and Clark so desperate, and everything about this is just awesome. THANK YOU.

Clark groaned when he came. He couldn’t stop fantasising about Bruce coming into this room and fucking him, or letting himself be fucked, or jerking Clark off, or giving him a blowjob, and why the hell had one of those fantasies been of Bruce in his Batsuit sucking him off? Clark wasn’t even into the suit, although it was so very tight, emphasising Bruce’s muscles, only revealing his mouth…his dick twitched eagerly at the thought of those stern lips wrapped around Clark’s dick.

He was panting, torn between guilt and desire. Bruce was right here in the Fortress, monitoring him and helping him figure out what was going on. He shouldn’t use him as fantasy fodder. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Bruce had last visited him to take some blood, but Clark felt a stab of guilt when he remembered how he had pawed at Bruce, trying to get him to help Clark in a different way.

If Bruce hadn’t been disgusted by him before, he certainly had to be now. He had certainly been uncomfortable, his posture stiff and his eyes barely meeting Clark’s as he drew Clark’s blood. He owed Bruce an apology.

His mind conjured up some images of how exactly he could apologise to Bruce and make things up to him. He could get on his knees and suck the other man off, Bruce would certainly like that, wouldn’t he? He wondered what Bruce’s cock would feel and taste like.

As lust clouded his brain, the guilt grew fainter and fainter as Clark lay back and let the machine fuck him. Oh, he would make it up to Bruce, any way Bruce wanted.

*

It was five, maybe six orgasms later when Bruce returned. Clark, having just come again, wiped his hand on the sheets – he really should ask Bruce to get some new sheets, these were covered in sticky white substance – and leaned up to turn the fucking machine off.

He curled his hands into fists, fighting the urge to reach for Bruce and throw him down next to him and rip his clothes off. He could do that; he could do that so easily, but it would be wrong to use his strength like that.

He took a deep breath, in through his nose, focusing on that instead of Bruce, and was hit by the smell of come. But not his own, he was pretty damn familiar with how that smelled by now. His eyes widened when he looked at Bruce, who was already prepping the needle. Had Bruce been jerking off? He let out a soft whimper at the thought of that, of Bruce wrapping one of his big hands around his dick, and moving it up and down, groaning in pleasure. Humans didn’t go into heat, so why would Bruce be jerking off as well? Was Clark’s heat contagious?

He considered that while Bruce took his blood. The other man apologised, but Clark didn’t even notice it. If his own heat was somehow contagious, he owed it to Bruce to help him out and assure him that Clark understood what he was going through.

When Bruce was clearing his needle away and putting the cap back on the vial, Clark sat up and put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. He could feel the heat from Bruce’s body, sending a spike of arousal through his own, but he resisted the urge to pull Bruce closer. He had to explain why he was going to do that first. “You jerked off, didn’t you?” Clark said, smiling when Bruce’s eyes widened.

“How did you – I didn’t – I mean – how?” Bruce spluttered, nearly dropping the vial, then clutching it to his chest.

Clark’s smile grew. “Smelled it,” he admitted. “But I know why you did it, Bruce, and it’s fine. I know what you’re feeling.”

“I’m not feeling anything,” Bruce snapped, getting up. He put the vial back in the bag, along with his other supplies. “I was just…I needed my own blood. After orgasm. As a – as a control to yours.”

“Bruce, it’s fine,” Clark repeated. Bruce was clearly feeling ashamed of being heat as well, and Clark didn’t blame him. “I’ve got the same feelings you do.”

Bruce stared at him, and the frown slowly faded. “You do?” His voice was surprisingly quiet, a little wistful, even.

Clark grinned and stood up, only a foot between them now. “Yes, you’re in heat too – it’s probably contagious somehow, I can’t believe we didn’t think of that before.”

“In heat,” Bruce muttered, hanging his head. “Clark, that’s not – I’m not in heat.”

“Of course you are,” Clark insisted, moving towards Bruce, and Bruce stepped back. “Why else would you need to jerk off?”

Bruce opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. “I told you, I needed a control for blood after orgasm.” His eyes narrowed as he watched Clark move closer again and he moved back. “I’m not in heat!”

“But I’m Kryptonian and you’re human, it wouldn’t be a good control at all,” Clark said, feeling proud he had thought of that even through the haze of desire and need and grab him grab him now get him naked feel his skin thrumming through his head. “We should consider the possibility it’s contagious.”

Bruce licked his lips, Clark following the moment of his quick tongue. “How about I look into that in the lab?” he suggested, backing away once more. His eyes widened when he realised he had his back against the wall and that the door was six feet to his left.

Clark moved closer, his chest brushing against the fabric of Bruce’s shift. “Why don’t we look into it here?” He put one hand on Bruce’s shoulder. Bruce wasn’t pushing him away or yelling at him, but he still looked a little scared. Well, of course he was by the prospect of going into heat. But Clark would help him if Bruce let him. “I’ll help you.” And then he leaned in, and kissed Bruce.

Bruce managed an odd yelp, his entire body freezing against the wall, and his two hands came up to rest against Clark’s bare chest.

Clark didn’t move, keeping his mouth pressed against Bruce’s, waiting for Bruce to push him away, but while Bruce’s hands were trembling, they didn’t push. They just stayed where they were. Clark pulled his head back, leaving barely an inch between their faces. “You’ll be helping me too, Bruce,” he said. “It’ll feel so much better with you than with the machine.” He pressed his body closer, his own hard cock against the hard planes of Bruce’s stomach. And, if Clark wasn’t mistaken, Bruce’s cock hardening against his thigh. “I’ve been thinking about it,” he admitted, running his hand down Bruce’s chest. He couldn’t wait to get that shirt off him. “About you fucking me, or me fucking you. I think it would be great either way, don’t you?”

Bruce’s fingers dug into his flesh, gripping his shoulders. “This is a terrible idea,” he muttered.

Clark was sure that if he could think properly, without the distracting thoughts of fucking and sex and having Bruce so close, he would agree, but right now it seemed like the best idea in the world. “But you want to, yes?”

It was a long second before Bruce finally nodded.

Clark grinned, then grabbed Bruce by his shirt-collar and used both his hands to rip the shirt off him. Bruce was rich enough to buy more. He almost laughed at Bruce’s indignant ‘hey!’, then ran his hands down Bruce’s chest, down his stomach. He traced one of the older scars. Yes, Bruce was exactly as Clark had imagined, covered in the evidence of his humanity.

His fingers made swift work of Bruce’s belt, and the trousers were ripped off as easily. Despite Bruce’s protests, the way his cock tented his tight boxers told Clark that Bruce didn’t exactly mind. “Careful!” Bruce grumbled.

“I’ll try,” Clark promised, wrapping one arm around Bruce’s chest and leaned down to wrap his other arm around the back of Bruce’s thighs so he could pick him up and carry him over to the bed. That led to more grumbling from Bruce as he was dropped onto the sheets.

“I can walk, Kent!”

Clark joined him on the bed, crouching over him on all fours. “I know.” He looked down at Bruce, who was still looking a little nervous. “So, shall I fuck you first and then you can fuck me?” He couldn’t wait to sink into Bruce, couldn’t wait to touch and kiss and lick him everywhere.

Bruce swallowed hard, closed his eyes for a moment, and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s do that.”

ANON. How is it possible to be this delighted and this agonized at the same time??? I absolutely LOVE all Clark's heat-hazy lustful thoughts (and who could blame him for them, lbr), and yet OH BRUCE. OH BRUCE YOU ARE GOING TO BE SO UNHAPPY WITH YOURSELF D: (AND YET WHO COULD BLAME YOU EITHER, BECAUSE DAMN)

In conclusion: I'm dying over here, send help!

This continues to be so awesome. I love how hazy and fucked up Clark's thought process is, he's going to be so mortified when he comes to. And ouch, Bruce having that hopeful little moment of thinking Clark shares his feelings before he realises what Clark meant, my heart. And, of course, this is still so smoking hot. :D

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DCEU Prompt Post #1

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