Clark may feel like he's being self-indulgent, but Bruce feels like he's the one being spoiled. That meditative quality is catching, even as he's driven crazy by the relentless pace. Bruce feels transported, shuddering and leaning his head back, letting his spine and shoulders and arms go slack and just taking it. The kind of lack of self-management usually only seen when he's asleep (and not every time he's asleep, either).

"I meant," it doesn't matter how breathless and quiet he is, Clark will hear him, "Will you keep fucking me if I come."

Doesn't sound like a worry. Sounds nearly like pre-emptive begging; please do that, I'm so close, and I don't want you to stop. Clark said he'd fuck him as long as he wanted, but Clark has a tendency to err on the side of human comfort. This isn't about that. Pleasure is great, having his entire brain erased for an hour is better.

Speaking of pleasure. Bruce is not the best at achieving orgasm purely through penetrative pressure, no matter how much of that is aimed correctly (and Clark is very good at it, to the point where Bruce has wondered in the past if he hasn't used x-ray vision to decide exactly where), but it's been so long as his cock has spent so much of it being rubbed between two sets of abdominal muscles he feels like he could be, and soon. If only Clark will pick up the past just a little.