They're on a precipice, because Bruce knows that as soon as he starts fucking him, his self-control will be toast, and the impact on Clark's abused skin will propel him towards real pain. Which is the point, twofold. Those are not bad things. Just things to be aware of, before either of them slip over the edge and find the brakes have been cut.
Bruce rolls into him slow, lazy almost, something without somewhere, little more than enjoying his body, twisting them both around the ache of it.
"Maybe I want to keep you right here forever." He rubs at a point in Clark's hipbone with his thumb. Soothing, or a pressure point. Who can tell. "In this room, in this light. Let everything else about reality fade away, except making you come."
Bruce gets a grip on him, fucks into him. Holds there, not letting him move. And then he does it again. There— he can feel it, the slip of the leash. Enough to make his breath hitch, really give it to him, hands gripping almost too tight.
no subject
Bruce rolls into him slow, lazy almost, something without somewhere, little more than enjoying his body, twisting them both around the ache of it.
"Maybe I want to keep you right here forever." He rubs at a point in Clark's hipbone with his thumb. Soothing, or a pressure point. Who can tell. "In this room, in this light. Let everything else about reality fade away, except making you come."
Bruce gets a grip on him, fucks into him. Holds there, not letting him move. And then he does it again. There— he can feel it, the slip of the leash. Enough to make his breath hitch, really give it to him, hands gripping almost too tight.