Summary: During a Metropolis heat wave, Clark and Bruce turn it to their advantage in the bedroom.
Date Of Completion: July 11, 2016
Date Of Posting: July 15, 2016
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 824
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
The Brave and the Bold,
Fire melts ice,
Isn’t that nice.
Clark brushed Bruce’s cheek with his thumb, watching his lover smile at his touch. Bruce’s eyes were closed and his left hand stroked Clark’s right hip. They faced each other on the bed, close and tender.
“Are you hot for me?” Clark teased.
“How can I not be hot for you? It has to be a hundred degrees in here!”
Clark laughed. “The heat wave isn’t my fault.”
“But having an apartment with no air-conditioning is.”
“Can I help it if the a.c. isn’t working?”
“You haven’t got any a.c.!”
Clark grinned. “I don’t need it.”
“Oh, darling, you need it.” Bruce opened his eyes. “This is not the Fortress of Solitude up in the frosty Arctic, you know.” Bruce wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “I’m sweatin’ my balls off here!”
“Oh, dear, we can’t have that.” Clark reached between their bodies and touched Bruce’s cock. Bruce twitched as he arched his back. “Relax.”
“Riiight. Your hand is on my cock and I’m supposed to relax.”
Clark’s smile was pure sweetness. His fingers were kneading, stretching and petting overheated skin.
Bruce squirmed and huffed. “I should tell you to cut it out.” Clark began to withdraw his hand. “But I won’t.”
Bruce’s face was flushed, his black hair sticking to his head and his skin sheened with sweat. Clark thought he looked absolutely beautiful. As one hand played with Bruce’s balls, the other brushed back the strands of damp hair. He nuzzled Bruce’s neck, nibbling on salty skin as he brushed his lips against his lover’s. Their kiss was deep and satisfying as Bruce pressed closer.
“Mmm,” Bruce groaned. His body was shifting as Clark applied gentle pressure to his cock.
They broke the kiss and Clark began nibbling along his lover’s collarbone, dipping into the hollow of his throat with his tongue and lapping down his sternum. He latched his mouth onto Bruce’s right nipple and suckled vigorously.
Bruce cupped the back of Clark’s head and encouraged his lover. “More,” he gasped.
Clark moved to the other nipple and quickly had Bruce squirming. His hand was still working his companion’s cock, its heat hinting that Bruce was close to the edge.
Clark suddenly rolled them over, lying on his back and Bruce got shakily to his knees. Clark bent his legs and grabbed the headboard. “Take me,” he whispered.
Bruce applied lube quickly to himself and Clark, wasting no time in easing into his lover’s body. Clark thrust up to meet him as Bruce pounded into him, pleasure spiraling through every sensitized nerve.
“Yes, yes, harder!”
“Your wish is my command.”
“I’m…not even…royalty,” Clark gasped.
“You’re my consort. Close…enough.”
Clark keened in a unique way that Bruce had long ago classified as Kryptonian. He granted Clark’s wish and thrust harder. The lube was merely a courtesy as Clark did not need it.
Clark was so beautiful. Whether in a stifling Metropolis apartment or in a frosty Arctic Fortress of Solitude, he gleamed like Grecian marble in his perfection but the living flesh was even better, warm and golden like summer sunshine.
Growing up surrounded by golden corn…huh, there’s so many layers to that.
Bruce’s coherent thoughts dissolved as he surrendered to pure sensation: blood singing along his veins, engorging his cock as his heart raced and the smell of sweat mingled with sex. The cotton sheets rustled as their joined bodies moved, and Bruce gloried in Clark’s blissful face thrown back onto the pillow. His lips parted slightly in the throes of ecstasy as his eyes were closed.
“I love you,” Bruce whispered as he made one final thrust, going over the edge into sexual bliss. Clark joined him seconds later.
344 Clinton Street’s apartment building was sold a week later. The new owner decreed that air-conditioning units would be available for anyone who wanted them, and those who already had units could turn them in for new, state-of-the-art, energy-efficient units.
On one of the hottest days of the year, Bruce and Clark lay in Clark’s bed in his apartment. The bedroom window was open as they relaxed in the afterglow of grappling, sweaty sex.
“You didn’t turn on my brand-new air-conditioning unit?” asked Clark.
“There’s something to be said for heat wave sex.” Bruce licked Clark’s neck.
“And here you bought my apartment building just to make sure I’d have cool air.”
Bruce mumbled sleepily as he dropped off. Clark kept a strong arm around his lover and blew out a breath. The temperature slowly dropped several degrees as icicles formed on the window and rays of sunlight sparkled in a chaotic collage of crystal.
“Good night, Frosty,” Clark murmured as he kissed Bruce’s temple, relaxing into slumber as rainbows sparkled around their private Fortress of Solitude in the heart of sweltering Metropolis.