Bruce's breathing shifts, and Clark does that again. Where he has arguably lacked in an extensive amount of experience, he makes up for in attention, in tireless repetition, in the strong desire to please wrapped up in his own very real desire to be pleased back.

And an ability to multitask. He sighs a little as Bruce touches him, and holds his breath when Bruce touches his cock in particular, locking down against the instinct to grind out more satisfaction. Instead, he slowly, gradually works his fingers deeper, palm pressed warm to perineum and thumb digging into the soft flesh of his inner thigh. And he is kissing him by the time he moves his hand, gripping around the base of his own cock. It feels like it's been a long and careful process; it feels like it's been no time at all.

Clark shifts so he can see Bruce when he presses the head of his cock to his ass, and is slow going to sink in, pushing from the hips. He holds onto the other man's leg, pulling knee up and forward even more, that hand still pinning Bruce's arm down. Slow but no effort at all, save to be slow.

Multitasking doesn't quite cover off what his face is doing, mouth half open, eyes hazy.