Pairings/Characters (this chapter): Clark/Bruce
Rating (this chapter): NC-17
Warnings: Sap alert! :)
General Summary: The perfect day turns into a perfect evening.
Chapter Summary: The time on the wharf was well-spent. ;)
Date Of Completion: July 20, 2008
Date Of Posting: July 26, 2008
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1251
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: Written for my 2008 DCU Fic/Art Endless Summer Challenge.
All chapters can be found here.
“I GUESS IT’S TRUE WHAT THEY SAY ABOUT SEAFOOD”
Clark and Bruce walked leisurely along the streets of the town, dusk beginning to settle as the day waned.
Bar Harbor, Maine was still a popular summer vacation spot, a legacy of the height of its popularity in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries as the wealthy from Boston and New York had traveled up the coast by train to summer in ‘cottages’ away from the stifling heat of the cities.
Bruce glanced up at the mountains surrounding the town. A large, baronial house was nestled high up the nearest mountainside.
“Wayne Cottage,” Clark smirked.
Bruce smiled. “AKA Harborside. The Breakers was already taken.”
Clark laughed. “A cottage with two dozen rooms?”
“Give-or-take.” Bruce brushed a lock of hair from his eyes. “The Wayne legacy continues. After I donated it to the town, they made good use of it as a women’s shelter and free clinic. Besides, I still have the oceanfront cottage in Hyannisport. That’s closer to Gotham.” Bruce smiled at his companion. “We’ll get there. It’s located right on the bay and still private enough.”
Clark squeezed Bruce’s hand. “I like being on vacation with you, especially by the sea.”
“The sea’s in my blood, just like endless waves of grain are in yours.”
“Is that a farmboy crack?”
Bruce smirked. “Maybe a little.”
Clark shook his head but smiled.
The town was quiet, a lull before the band concert starting later that evening. Clark and Bruce walked to the beach, taking off their shoes to walk in the water. Bruce slipped his hand into Clark’s, and the Kryptonian gave him a look of pure love.
Bruce needed this peace, this quiet, hell, what could be considered sappiness. His mind needed rest from constant pressure and calculating and responsibility. As a child, Dick had taught him the need for pure play, and now Clark had re-taught him that lesson. He no longer fought vacations quite so hard, and now even schemed to get them time together that wasn’t sandwiched in between civilian work and patrol. He considered it a worthy challenge.
The sun began to set, streaks of rose, orange and gold ribboning through indigo sky. The waves soothed with their eternal sound, and Bruce’s hand tightened.
Clark looked at him, blue shining through plastic lenses, the most beautiful sight in the world. His lover cupped his face and gently kissed him.
They left the beach and headed back to their cottage.
This was truly a cottage, small but comfortable. The pine paneling matched the yellow paint, giving the kitchen a sunny atmosphere that Clark loved. Bruce harrumphed but was secretly pleased. He loved to surround Clark with cheerful settings. He looked so natural in them!
The living room offered a magnificent view of the sea. Bruce and Clark stood by the window, silent but comfortable.
Bruce turned and kissed Clark’s cheek, the reporter smiling. They entered into a proper kiss, then headed upstairs to the bedroom.
Disrobing was slow but sexy, interspersed with gentle kisses. Bruce pushed Clark onto the bed, yanking off his lover’s pants as he climbed up on the bed.
“Mmm, Bruce,” Clark said between kisses. “You’re so beautiful.”
Bruce cupped Clark’s face, tenderly regarding his lover’s beauty. “I could say the same, Clark.”
The kiss was gentle, then grew more passionate, Bruce lowering his naked body on top of Clark, whose arms slid around his back.
Each man kissed and stroked warm skin, Bruce kissing Clark’s shoulder.
Bruce wanted this slow and romantic. He had once declared that he ‘didn’t do romantic’, but that had changed when he had fallen in love with Clark Kent.
Clark did romantic. He did romantic very well.
And he expected his lover to do it as well.
Oh, Clark would never come out and say it, or show disappointment at a lack of romance, but it would be there.
And Bruce had discovered that he wanted to do romance: hearts and flowers and candlelight dinners.
He wanted to glory in the beauty of the body laid out for him, the sound of the ocean singing in his veins. Moonlight shimmered on the water, framed in the bedroom’s large window, and Bruce kissed Clark on the lips.
Clark stroked Bruce’s face, eyes shining with love. Bruce slowly began moving his hips, cocks rubbing together as he kissed Clark’s brow.
Nerve endings tingling with pleasure, Bruce continued a slow, steady rhythm, Clark moaning softly beneath him. Bruce kissed his lover’s chest, flicking his tongue over both nipples, blowing gently.
Clark shivered. “Bruce…”
Bruce smiled. His mouth closed around a nipple, Clark gasping as he cupped his lover’s head. Bruce responded by increasing his attentions, transferring his lips to the other nipple.
Bruce kissed all the way down to Clark’s groin, taking his time as he savored sweet flesh. Clark’s moans were music to his ears, and he blew gently on his lover’s bobbing cock.
Clark squirmed. “Please…” he breathed, face contorted in exquisite agony as his hips thrust up, seeking Bruce, who rested his hand on the Kryptonian’s stomach.
“Aren’t you eager?”
“Stop teasing!” Clark pouted.
There were few things more beautiful than Clark Kent in full pout mode, and Bruce enjoyed the show.
“You’re beautiful,” Bruce murmured.
Bruce laughed at Clark’s smug agreement. He kissed Clark’s thighs, brushing his cheek against his partner’s cock.
“Bruce, if you don’t…!”
Bruce smirked, then began licking the underside of the impressive column of flesh, Clark squirming again. Bruce’s tongue swirled around the head, grateful not for the first time that Kryptonian physiology was so close to Terran.
His mouth took in Clark’s cock, his eyes gleaming as he pleasured his Beloved.
Bruce brought Clark to the brink…
Clark’s hips thrust up, orgasm rippling through him as he gasped, “Bruce, I’m coming!”
Bruce’s hands cupped his lover’s buttocks, drinking in Clark’s seed. When he was finished, Bruce released him, gently lowering him back to the bed.
Clark lolled bonelessly until he felt a rather insistent poking in his thigh. Smiling, he slid his hand down and curled it around Bruce’s cock, rubbing his thumb up and down the hard flesh.
“Seems you’re ready,” he said with a lazy grin.
Bruce growled and pounced, Clark laughing.
“C’mon, baby, do me!” the Kryptonian demanded.
Bruce grabbed the jar off the nightstand and prepared himself and Clark. His lover really didn’t need it but Bruce liked to give him the courtesy of preparation.
Easing into Clark’s welcoming heat sent thrills of pleasure along Bruce’s nerves.
So beautiful…so beautiful…
Moonlight silvered Clark’s perfect body, Bruce setting a slow, languorous pace. He wanted to savor every moment, every touch, every sight, ever sound…every taste.
Clark’s hands slid up and down his thighs, eyes starlit as he smiled at Bruce.
Bruce’s orgasm washed over him like the moonlit waves, his back arching as Clark’s gasps of pleasure matched his grin.
Deliciously sated, Bruce slid out of Clark, the faint sounds of the band concert carrying over the clear night air.
“Mmm, that was great,” Clark murmured. His eyes twinkled as he said, “I guess it’s true what they say about seafood.” Bruce slapped his shoulder as he laughed.
He kissed Bruce and put his arms around him as his companion curled up around him, resting his head on his Beloved’s broad chest. Clark kissed the top of his head and settled under the covers, the eternal crash of the waves lulling both lovers to sleep.
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