Clark gives a low moan at that first hint of penetration, having withstood the teasing up until that point in relative silence—besides the deep breathing, the shift of muscle between tension and relaxing. It feels ridiculous that Bruce could possibly want to go this slowly, and a little like they're sharing the effort, even if there's not much Clark can do about it but let himself get rocked backwards.
And then it happens, and that vague too much feeling that comes with this kind of thing pushes towards a painful point. Not an under-prepared kind of pain, but a muscles locked in an effort against unravelling kind of pain. There is a deep, prolonged internal shiver when he feels that point of connection, of being pulled flush against the other man. Goddamnit, indeed.
Bruce hitches forward, and the sound Clark makes is undignified, and not very much like the taunt around Bruce not going too easy on him at all.
He leans forward, almost pulling himself to do so, just so that he can push backwards. It's barely anything, except from the perspective of tight skin and clenching muscle. "I know," he says, in a tight voice, as if pre-empting something, which is; "I'm breathing."
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And then it happens, and that vague too much feeling that comes with this kind of thing pushes towards a painful point. Not an under-prepared kind of pain, but a muscles locked in an effort against unravelling kind of pain. There is a deep, prolonged internal shiver when he feels that point of connection, of being pulled flush against the other man. Goddamnit, indeed.
Bruce hitches forward, and the sound Clark makes is undignified, and not very much like the taunt around Bruce not going too easy on him at all.
He leans forward, almost pulling himself to do so, just so that he can push backwards. It's barely anything, except from the perspective of tight skin and clenching muscle. "I know," he says, in a tight voice, as if pre-empting something, which is; "I'm breathing."