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Wind billows through the hanging, fabric umbrella overhead. Bruce watches it idly past the tint of his sunglasses, and brings the mimosa up to his lips as he feels the sand warm his toes—the only part of him not covered by his shade.
Sweet citrus floods his tastebuds, and Bruce feels something like peace settle in on his shoulders as they relax.
In the distance, Kal-El is letting the ocean waves lap over his skin, coating him like a blanket all the way up to the backs of his thighs before the water recedes back to start again.
Bruce watches as the ocean foams and leaves little bubbles along the inner parts of Kal's thighs, especially when the latter seems to part them so that it can rush through across his mound. He was always overheated these days, especially between his legs. Many nights Bruce spends gently prying Kal's legs apart and fanning, or gently rubbing a chilled terrycloth against his sensitive labia. More often than not, Kal needs Bruce to follow up by licking and suckling the pink of him until he finally cums a few times, thus abating the heat.
It reminds Bruce of an omega in heat. Burning hot all over to the point where they can't help but present, wagging their hips in the air to dissipate some of that endless stimulation on their most sensitive spots. Bruce doesn't mention it, not just yet, but he knows the idea of Kal being sent into heat just for Bruce, just for his alpha…
Bruce is certain he wouldn't allow either of them to leave the den until Kal got pregnant again.
He glances away from the free show, just for a moment, as the breeze kicks up again, bringing with it a rush of gentle, warm heat—and the scent of his mate down the shore. A deep breath in to let it fill his lungs.
Then, almost as soon as he looks away, Bruce is back to staring at him again.
Kal-El is absolutely glowing, skin darkened and tanned though they've only arrived on the private island two days ago. Their honeymoon present, six months after they'd actually been mated. Though it had been a while (nearing two years) since Kal had become a resident of Earth, the two of them had wanted to take it slow. Their meeting and subsequent betrothal had been abrupt—Bruce wanted to spend time properly courting his partner, as a good alpha should.
Though… perhaps one could argue that they were moving fast.
Bruce's eyes travel down Kal's body as the omega kicks his feet a little at the ocean waters. Water that must have sprinkled onto him from his kicking sparkles like starlight. Some drops land on the rounded part of his belly, slowly rolling their way down the curve of it until they drip onto his thighs.
More than halfway through pregnancy, Kal is absolutely glowing with it.
His stomach has grown heavy and round, though he still has a few months to go. He looks nearly at the end, though Leslie assures him that there's only one pup in Kal's womb. Just a very high percentile one.
Stretchmarks, dark and wavy like flowering vines, adorn his lover like tattoos. They crest up his lower belly, far past his bellybutton, a testament to how quickly he's grown their little one. Bruce loves to drag his tongue along each one, feeling the grooves of them in his skin until Kal, flustered, will pull him up to kiss him instead.
Kal seems to feel Bruce's eyes on him.
He perks up excitedly, would have wagged his tail if he had one, as soon as he spots Bruce right where he left him some thirty minutes prior. It takes some effort, but he rolls first onto his hip and then up onto his knees, having to pause to place a firm hand on his underbelly and lift so that he doesn't end up pancaked flat into the sand with the weight of it. Bruce can nearly hear him huff from where he sits. Even with the new superpowers he's gained from the sun, he's ever so careful not to overexert himself.
Besides, he knows that Bruce will gladly carry him everywhere if Kal so much as thinks the thought for longer than a minute.
Bruce is just about to stand to do just that, or at least meet him halfway and carry him back up to their cabana perhaps for a late lunch, but Kal is quicker. He's been much better at controlling his speed these days, and always uses it to keep Bruce on his toes. Sometimes literally, lifting him from his seat in the Batcave and speeding him up to bed when he's being especially obstinate.
All at once, though not unwelcomed, Bruce has a lapful of Kryptonian.
"Hi."
Kal blinks at him, his pretty blues glancing back and forth between Bruce's own.
"Hello, love."
Bruce places his palms flat on Kal's hips and pulls him up higher, until they're groin to groin. It makes Kal chirp, surprised, which quickly evolves into a full moan as Bruce dips forward to kiss his neck.
His skin hasn't been able to take a mating bite. Too indestructible, though Bruce can't say it upsets him. Knowing that Kal-El has an inherent measure of built-in safety far outweighs anything else. Logically, Bruce couldn't be happier that Kal won't ever break, or bleed.
Instinctively, he pouts like a scolded puppy every time he sees Kal's unscarred neck. He wants others to know that this omega, this wonderful, kind, beautiful man, has been claimed and is being well adored.
He settles in other ways. Leaving hickeys nearly daily along the slope of his neck and shoulders. Dowsing Kal in his scent nearly every day, though Kal can't smell the exact pheromones considering his lack of designation. Others can though. The intense aroma of Bruce's dedication drips off of Kal-El daily, something that every tabloid loves to comment on, insisting that his new mate (publicly an omega who suffers from a very rare disease wherein they emit no pheromones of their own. Dick came up with it.) is simply a broken toy for Bruce to 'dress up' as he pleases.
If only they knew how readily Bruce would rend himself apart if it was for Kal.
"You're thinking very heavily," Kal murmurs. "Not having a good morning?"
"It's wonderful. I get to see you in your element, how could I not be enjoying myself?" As he says this, Bruce gestures up to the sky where, even through the beach umbrella, they can see the outline of the sun's vibrant rays. "You paint a beautiful picture, my love."
Kal flusters, a soft sounding building in his throat. He leans forward, leaning all of his weight in Bruce's lap until they're pressed stomach to stomach.
"Careful," he murmurs, though it's obvious he's all too pleased, preening under the weight of his omega relying on him entirely. Kal kisses him, if only to quiet his fussing before it begins.
"I'm careful," Kal responds. "You flirt."
"Simply being honest, beautiful," Bruce argues, a small smile tugging at his lips when he notes how Kal turns red at the compliment nonetheless.
Kal is very soft in his grip. A pleasant heft, the entirety of him following Bruce as he shifts himself, pointedly ignoring the way he begins to harden in his trunks. This close, Bruce can tell that he's been thoroughly warmed by the sun by the way that it radiates from his very being, like a small star has ignited in him. And the scent of him, ocean and whatever coconut shampoo they'd packed and pleasedomega…
Can anyone blame him? There's nothing more satisfying than having a satisfied omega in your lap.
"She's kicking," Kal hums. "Feel it?"
Bruce's hand hovers immediately over where Kal is pressed against him. He won't be able to caress properly like this, something that he frowns about. It makes Kal, seemingly reading his mind, laugh.
"Here. Like this…" Kal sits up. It's slow, and Bruce places his hand on the small of his back so he doesn't feel like he has to go too far away. As soon as the roundest part of his stomach has been revealed, Bruce slides his fingers across the mound of it. Right above the bellybutton, just because it makes Kal huff out a small laugh, then lower.
At twenty-six weeks, their pup is quite active. Usually rolling from one side to another as their home gets smaller and smaller the bigger they grow. Oftentimes kicking out whenever Bruce speaks to them, low in the quiet of their bedroom back home. Kal describes them as a fluttering feeling, even when the jabs are more sharp. He jokes that they know they're the next child of Batman, practicing their punches to match their papa's fighting prowess.
Surprisingly, Damian has taken to the little one very well despite this running joke. He sees 'her' (and he is certain that the pup is female despite both Bruce and Kal declining to know the gender) as a fledgling Robin, someone he looks forward to mentoring the same way that his brothers mentor him… however rocky that start had been when Damian showed up years ago, at only five years old.
Perhaps he hopes that he can welcome her into the family in a way that he hadn't been welcomed, not by the Robins, at first. It… had been a rocky start. Bruce is glad they've all (including himself) grown and are much more forthright with their affection for the young boy.
Bruce is also glad that they'd welcomed Kal-El just as easily. Though there had been many jokes about Kal somehow overloading him with alien pheromones like 'love pollen', all of the Robins have quickly developed their own positive relationships with Kal.
Damian is spoiled rotten by him. Somehow, despite insisting that he is mature and much too intelligent for toys and being carried around, he allows Kal-El to hug him and lift him all at the same time, usually whenever he has new art supplies for Damian to try. It isn't often that they aren't cuddling if they're ever sitting in the same room together longer than five minutes.
Tim appreciates Kal's fresh perspective. As someone who is neither a hero nor a human, Kal is usually able to help Tim see things from viewpoints he didn't even realize existed. Both socially and scientifically, both of which he seems to appreciate. Bruce had noticed them practicing with botany from some of the books Kal had tugged out of his old ship. They'll surely give Poison Ivy a run for her money if they really set their minds to it.
And Jason. He doesn't often go out as Robin, not after the accident that had nearly killed him some years ago now, but he spends much of his time in the cave. Perhaps as much as Bruce does. He kept to himself so much when Kal first arrived, that Bruce had to check on him nightly to ensure he hadn't actually run away into the night. After a bit of wheedling, courtesy of Kal-El himself, Bruce found out that his son had been worried they'd be replaced. Something about being able to have a 'normal' family now that he was mated.
Bruce isn't sure what Kal told him, but one day Jason had been despondent and the next, Jason was following after him like a freshly hatched chick, always calling for Kal's attention (even more than Damian) or offering him new books to read to learn about Earth culture.
Cassandra likes Kal-El. It's something she says often. Though she comes to Bruce for most of her worries and frustrations, she isn't shy about going to Kal-El for other things. When she's angry, she admits she likes to sit next to Kal and allow that serenity that emits from him effortlessly to flow into her and calm her down. Bruce can understand the desire; though Kal can get overwhelmed at times himself, he never allows it to ruin him. He simply… steps away. Regroups. (Sometimes, cries in Bruce's lap until he's calm enough to stop catastrophizing). Though Cassandra can keep calm and quiet her mind, she has difficulty letting go. It's something Bruce wishes he could have taught her himself, but it's something he still struggles with as well. He's grateful that Kal-El can be her steadying rock when Bruce can't.
Of everyone, though, Dick is the closest with Kal-El. When he and Bruce argue, it's always Kal's nest that Dick retreats to. Whenever he has feelings of inadequacy, it's Kal-El that he looks to for guidance. That curiosity he had in him at the appearance of the alien in the basement had quickly morphed into admiration, quicker than Bruce had even been able to notice. And whenever Dick feels alone—something he feels often as the oldest, the one who had had to bare the brunt of Bruce's weaknesses for so long all on his own as Robin, the one who had lost his family and was terrified that he wouldn't be enough to protect his new one—he always has Kal to follow in the footsteps of. Bruce tries not to pry into their relationship too much, but he knows that they've both cried together very often about not being good enough—for some reason. Bruce can never properly express how much the two of them have been such big motivators for him to be better, especially Dick, but he is glad that they have the comfort of knowing that they'll always have each other.
They'll all always have Kal-El. They've grown as protective over him as Bruce has. Especially with the sudden announcement of the pup growing in his belly.
None of them had known it was possible at all; Kryptonians weren't known for their compatibility with other species. Yet, somehow, despite Bruce insisting on condoms, Kal's biology was more… persistent than any of them could have ever guessed. It was quite fascinating. Even through birth control, the fact that Kal-El wanted him as badly as he had (and Bruce had wanted him in turn) meant that it was only an inevitability and not a chance that Kal would get pregnant. Not to mention how often they made love.
"She stopped," Kal says softly. Bruce can tell that he's sleepy, his eyelids have grown heavy and he leans his cheek in very close against Bruce's chest as he lays down flat again, something he does when he wants to focus on nothing else but Bruce's heartbeat.
"Damian is influencing you," Bruce teases. "Certain they're a girl now?"
"He's very persuasive, your son," Kal sleepily mumbles back.
"Our son, darling. You're practically his dam, and I know he thinks of you as such."
Another soft breeze kicks up, and Bruce lifts the gauzy shawl he'd hooked over the back of the wicker beach chair to lay over Kal's head and back, to keep any sand from getting in his eyes. Kal usually giggles at him for it, citing that he's 'invincible, even to sand', as he's done for the two days they've been here.
This time, he stays oddly quiet.
"Kal?"
"Our son," Kal agrees, clearing his throat. He sits up, legs outlining Bruce's on either side before he dips in to kiss him very suddenly. Before Bruce can truly enjoy it, Kal clambers off of the chair and wraps the shawl around him as if it isn't entirely see-through. "I'm… going back in the water. It's very nice right now—do you want to join me, ah…"
Kal struggles for a moment. Lips forming around a few different syllables before he ducks his head and finishes with a soft, "Bruce."
"Of course," Bruce says, masking any of his confusion. Kal had, maybe, felt Bruce's erection. He had been a bit nervous about doing anything more than kissing outside of the beach house, though Bruce had insisted they had the utmost privacy. He bought the island just to ensure it. Still, of course, he would respect Kal's wishes.
Besides, the ocean does look tempting. Though not nearly as tempting as Kal does with his body wrap slowly slipping from his shoulders and revealing an unfettered view of his neck.
"C'mere," Bruce hums, his only warning before he lifts Kal with one hand and cups the back of his neck with the other, to pull him in for a proper kiss. When he twirls, he can feel Kal-El's startled laugh vibrating across their joined lips.
"First one in gets to choose lunch?" Kal asks, as if Bruce wouldn't travel halfway across the world to get him whichever lunch he could possibly think up.
"Mm," Bruce agrees. "Alright. But you're in the mood for salmon. With lemon."
Kal laughs again, a full-bodied one this time. "You cheated."
"I'm a detective," he denies, carrying his omega toward the water. "I'll always know what you need, darling."
This time, when Kal blushes, it's under the full brilliance of the sun. It only makes him look even more beautiful.
The next day finds the two of them enjoying a quiet morning together.
Everything is slower on the island, with his omega, Bruce finds. They wake up late, though still before noon, and spend most of the morning gradually coming back to consciousness until Bruce notices Kal's stomach rumbling with hunger.
But almost nothing can fully wake his partner before he's truly ready, especially not when he's being warmed by rays of sunlight filtering in through thin curtains which wave and dance with the gentle breeze of the open window.
Bruce doesn't mind. It gives him time to admire the beauty of his mate before he gets up to feed him properly. It hadn't felt right to hire any help for their honeymoon; it was a time to show Kal-El that he can dote on him with his own skills, provide for him so that he wants for nothing. Besides, something about being able to wake Kal up so pleasantly just makes him even more eager to do it himself.
By the time he comes back with a tray of light breakfast pastries, juice, and a few sausage links and patties, Kal is still half-dozing in the same position he'd left him in.
"Sweetheart," Bruce calls gently. "It's time to wake up."
Kal groans, though it's more of a petulant whine than anything. He shifts under the bedding, hips twisting one way though his stomach pulls him the other direction. Bruce hovers a hand nearby, in case Kal needs help, but his omega gives up quickly and flops back in the same position he'd started in, if not a bit more tangled in sheets.
His hair has gone messy with sleep, curls half flattened on one side and fluffed up on the other. When Bruce thumbs at his cheek, Kal leans into it and kisses at the offered palm before he even realizes he's doing it.
"Cold," Kal mumbles, eyes shut.
"Sit up for me, darling, let me take care of you."
Somehow, Kal finds the insurmountable strength to sit up from the warmth of their bed—their nest for as temporary as their vacation is—so that he can be doted upon.
Kal-El prefers to sleep in the nude, especially now that he overheats so easily. Bruce observes the plush curve of his chest, which has gotten fuller over the last six months. Which will, definitely, only continue to grow in size. Sometimes, they'll wake in the morning and find little wet spots where colostrum has leaked from his puffy nipples during the night.
Sometimes, Bruce licks them up while Kal is still between asleep and awake, ever so forthright with his moans when he's that sleepy.
For now, though, Bruce holds back. Instead, he works on unbuttoning his satin sleepshirt, tugging it down his arms before he hooks the article of clothing around Kal's back.
Though the material is thin, Kal moans at the new source of warmth to soak up. He lifts his arms obediently when Bruce prompts him, and even blinks his eyes half open when Bruce leans in to lay a kiss against his crown.
"There we go," Bruce hums. "Warm?"
"Warm," Kal agrees, shoulders relaxing.
The shirt fits him a bit tight. Not enough to cut off circulation or restrict his movement, but enough that it's obvious he fills out the sleeves a little more than Bruce does. If he were to button it up, Bruce doubts he'd get past the third button. Even before he'd gotten pregnant, Kal was simply… bigger than Bruce.
He ignores the flare of arousal in his gut so that he can stand and reach for the tray of breakfast he'd brought. He'd prepared those cheese danishes that Kal seemed addicted to, the ones with a layer of honey in them, and he is entirely unsurprised to note that Kal perks up as soon as he smells the dish.
Bruce waits patiently as Kal unfurls himself from his beautiful nest. Kal insists it isn't a proper nest, because he doesn't have the innate instinct for it, but Bruce wholly disagrees. After all, why else is he so obsessed with keeping Kal-El in it, bringing new soft things nearly every day to see if he'll approve adding them to their nest.
Kal sits up on his knees so that he can grab for Bruce and steal a proper mouth-kiss before he does anything else, and then crawls onto the edge of the circular bed so that he can plant his feet in the plush rug there.
When Kal stands, it's with a hand on his back and a soft huff. Bruce wonders if Kal would mind if he didn't have to move at all for the final few months of his pregnancy, if he'd like being adored without having to leave the nest at all.
He also wonders if his sudden fetish is a bit too obvious. By the look Kal gives him, yes.
"Thank you," Kal sighs contentedly. "How did you know I was hungry?"
"Mm."
Kal takes a step forward to steal the tray from him. Bruce allows it, if only because it frees up his hands. He hovers as Kal crosses the room to the little sidetable the rests between the two large, overstuffed armchairs by the bay window.
Before he can sit, Bruce slides against him from behind.
When his large hands make contact with Kal's belly, the latter sighs blissfully, already anticipating the relief. Bruce strives not to disappoint, carefully lifting with equal pressure on either side and pulling in, just slightly, so that he is the one bearing the entire brunt of their pup's weight.
"Thank you," Kal moans again, leaning back so that that weight, too, is leaning against Bruce. It's something Bruce had insisted on when they first began to cuddle—he wanted to feel Kal entirely, wanted to be a steady wall for him to rest against when he feels weary. It brings him the utmost joy to see Kal like that, and he's grateful that Kal had, though shyly, agreed.
Right now, bearing the weight of his omega and their pup, Bruce finds himself smiling.
He nuzzles his nose in against the back of Kal's neck, snuffing at it just to see if he can still smell the ocean on him (yes), or the faint scent of barbecue that they'd cooked last night (also yes). But, above that, he smells the alien scent of his lover and is filled with so much love he can hardly contain himself.
"Good morning, honey," Bruce greets, belated as it is. "You can nap after this, if you like. I'll leave the curtains drawn for you."
When the offer isn't immediately met with Kal's pleased agreement, for Kal loves nothing more than late-morning naps, Bruce glances up from the warm skin of his nape.
Only to be surprised by the full blush that has taken over Kal's cheeks. It makes him look cherubic, no less handsome than he's ever been of course, but Bruce takes a moment to survey Kal again, to assess the cause.
It isn't too warm, the breeze is making sure of that. And there's no full-body flush to hint that Kal is feeling too warm. His hands tremble a bit as he lifts them from the handles of the tray, only to carefully fist one over his mound.
Bruce lifts his belly just a bit more and—
Ah. Bruce had accidentally rutted his hips forward. He feels the way his cock has pressed against the little dip at the base of Kal-El's spine, though he hasn't fully hardened just yet. It seems Bruce is primed at a moment's notice, if only to please his darling as he deserves. Still, the sensation must have set off Kal's sensitive nerves, body seemingly always awash with the desire to be licked and sucked and kissed and fucked until he's calmed again.
Before Bruce can offer, Kal hums shakily and, after Bruce slowly lowers the weight of his belly from his palms and back to Kal, turns so that he can offer Bruce a kiss to his cheek.
"Good morning," he says, finally, peeking at Bruce from between his lashes.
When he turns to eat, the back of his neck is still red with the force of his blush. Hm.
"Good morning," Bruce repeats, just as softly as he had the first time. Still, he is rewarded when Kal smiles at him, cheek dimpling in, before he takes a bite of his favorite danish.
By the time they finish breakfast, Bruce has set his confusion aside so that he can simply enjoy the presence of his husband. The sun recedes beneath fluffy, cumulus clouds in the distance, which leaves it just a bit more bearable to go out onto the terrace.
Outside sits a large canopy couch, though it's more like another bed with how wide the cushions are. Kal loves to lounge against it and rub at his stomach until Bruce calls for him—or joins him.
Bruce glances over his shoulder as Kal gets himself comfortable, immediately stealing all of the cushions so he can lay across them without feeling like he's being crushed by their baby.
Quickly, Bruce returns with their well-loved bottle of cocoa butter lotion. Though not painful, Kal-El had admitted that sometimes his new stretchmarks itched unbearably. It had taken a while to find the best solution, but as soon as they had, Bruce had stockpiled.
"Oh," Kal breathes, unable to hide the immediate relief he feels just from being offered. "Yes, please."
They lay together.
Bruce lays himself so that he is closest to Kal's waist, already lathering his palms up with a generous helping of the lotion before he massages small, gentle circles into Kal's skin. This part of his body is the softest, perhaps due to the lotion itself, but Bruce loves to feel how the plush skin firms up more and more the further along Kal gets. Being able to take note of each change in him, to think about how it's only growing their pup more and more… it makes Bruce happier than it should, perhaps. He'd never thought he'd be allowed to have a partner that allows him to be a part of the process from conception. It's… nice.
Bruce leans in and kisses the part of Kal's belly that he's just lotioned. Then, he moves onto the next. Sometimes, he nuzzles in and feels how their little one makes a flurry of movement inside, right against where they must feel Bruce pressing into them.
Hesitant fingers tangle in Bruce's hair by the time he's halfway done. Encouragingly, he purrs and leans into the touch, until Kal begins to card his fingertips through and scratch at Bruce's scalp.
"I don't think I've ever been this happy," Bruce admits quietly. He thumbs a small circle into Kal's skin, before following the touch up with yet another kiss. "You're so beautiful, love. So perfect."
Kal takes in a shuddery breath, always so easily overcome by his emotions when Bruce himself is. He tries not to, but sometimes the happiness floods him so totally that Bruce can't help but hug himself tight to Kal and promise to never let go.
"Me too," Kal says, voice thick. "I'm happy, too."
When he tugs Bruce up so that he can cuddle him close, Bruce doesn't resist. Though he does keep one palm against Kal's tummy, he is always all too happy to kiss and be kissed by the love of his life.
Kal hugs him, reclining back so that their legs can freely tangle even while they're comfortably swaddled by the tsunami of pillows he'd sequestered. Bruce's thigh ends up between Kal's from the front, but the latter simply moans at the shift in position which stretches out an ache he hadn't even noticed in his hips.
The spread also brings forth the scent of Kal's arousal all over again. Notomega, but Bruce can practically taste the want that radiates from Kal whenever it does. And, this close, with a firm thigh between his legs for him to idly rub against before he even realizes he's doing it… Kal wants for it.
Who is Bruce to resist that call?
"May I, sweetheart?" He hovers a hand over Kal-El's cunt, so close that he's sure Kal can feel it anyway, ghosting across his skin. He's entirely naked from the waist down, still only dressed in Bruce's shirt.
Eagerly, motions flurried, Kal thrusts his hips up to meet the touch. His eyes search Bruce's, almost frazzled as he struggles to find his voice. The need must be so overwhelming for him, something that Kal is often shy about admitting. Today, though, Kal moans and wraps his arms around his alpha, pulling him in and spreading his legs wider.
"Mhm," Kal moans. "Please, Bruce—"
Bruce cups his fingers against Kal's pussy and pulls him in close so that he can slowly grind their bodies together, until the omega has taken all that he has ever desired and more.
They don't finish until well into the evening.
The fourth day of their honeymoon finds them on a new part of the beach.
The sand is softer and white, and Kal has busied himself drawing little bats in the sand for some reason. He has one of the cushions from the cabana chairs under him, supporting his hip, but he's running out of clear sand to draw in without moving positions.
Which is perfect. Bruce rounds from the grill he'd toted out this far onto the beach, carefully cupping his hand around the small plate in his grip so sand doesn't kick up into it.
"Darling, you'll love this. Come taste."
Kal fumbles with the little seashell he'd been drawing with, and it rolls out of arms reach. When he glances up, Bruce is already kneeling and offering a bite. Grilled lobster topped with soft, light cheese, heaps of butter, and a few ropes of pasta. Kal opens his mouth, reflexively it seems, and moans as soon as he tastes it.
"You're—" Kal chews methodically, but his face has gone red. "You're going to kill me one of these days."
Bruce blinks owlishly.
It seems like the palpable confusion on his face is the final straw for Kal. He sits up, carefully cradling his belly with one hand, and tips his head down until he's hidden his face from view.
"You keep calling me these… these sweet words. You've never called me them before, and it's—well, it's…!"
Kal glances up at him, and he looks so beautiful that Bruce wants to kiss him.
"What do you mean?" Bruce probes gently, sliding the plate to the side so that he can properly sit next to his husband and comfort him.
"Honey… sweetheart, darling. You keep calling me these names—but you've only called me omega before. They're all very… it's…"
"You don't like the petnames?"
With a groan, Kal tips forward until Bruce embraces him, hugging him close.
He isn't actually upset. Simply flustered, hiding a smile against Bruce's neck as he seemingly giggles at himself. Bruce smiles with him, leaning back on his haunches until he ends up sitting properly in the sand, Bruce pulls Kal onto his lap, uncaring of the way sand grains itch at his thigh.
"Petnames…" Kal tries the word out on his tongue. He's still hiding, breath warm against Bruce's scentgland. "I like them… I like them too much. They make me feel very… warm, between my legs."
That sends a zap of pleasure down Bruce's spine.
"Mm."
Kal is, once again, a delicious weight to be cradled in Bruce's hold. He leans his head until his lips brush against the curve of Kal's ear.
"I'm not sure I know what you mean, pretty thing. I've always thought of you like this. My sweetheart," Bruce teases him, voice a low and quiet rumble like a panther on the hunt. "My darling."
He kisses his silly husband, one soft little peck for each name he calls him.
"Bruce…" Kal leans heavier into him, until Bruce's back is flat on the sand. "My husband."
As he says this, he nibbles along Bruce's neck in a way that inwardly has Bruce melting. His voice grows so soft that Bruce strains to hear him, though he is all too happy to do so. The tickle of Kal's lips against the soft of his skin might just make him worship Kal-El's body for the next hour or three.
"My omega," Bruce responds, just as softly. "I am yours."
Kal bites. A little nip, one that's more of a pinch than anything, though the skin doesn't break at all. Still, stars burst in Bruce's vision as he leans his head in to leave a mimicking bite on Kal's own shoulder again.
He needs a taste of him. As soon as possible.
"I should let you get back to what you were doing," Kal says. His speech is quick, words tripping over each other from nerves. Shy, as if suddenly aware of the power he holds over Bruce. "Thank you for being so… so kind to me. I really like these petnames."
"Let me have a taste of you before you go," Bruce finds himself mumbling. "Just for a moment."
"Ah—" Kal can hardly argue before Bruce gathers him up and stands, already mapping a route to the nearest, semi-flat surface he can push Kal against so he can have his way with him.
First, he rushes them to the outdoor shower, tongue heavy with need to slip out of his mouth and lap up all that slick that must have built up in Kal's swimtrunks. He smells as though he's dripping for it—or maybe that's just Bruce wanting an excuse to lick him clean.
They make it, somehow, bodies tangled by the time Bruce has pressed himself to the stone tile wall, ignoring the chill of it in order to lift Kal by his hips and lift him up.
Thick legs wrap around his middle, ankles locking behind him. Kal is already focused on his lips, a soft and needy sound built in his throat when Bruce doesn't kiss him fast enough for his tastes.
Obediently, Bruce provides.
One of them must reach out to turn on the shower, finally, because soon cold water is bursting out between them from overhead. It makes Kal squeak, back arching to escape the sharp bite of cold, until he feels how nicely it soothes the burn under his skin.
Already sucking Bruce's tongue into his mouth, Kal relaxes quickly as the sand and the ocean water is thoroughly rinsed from him. Bruce breathes heavily as Kal curls their tongues together, carefully closing his soft lips around the thick appendage before he pulls back and lets his own hang out of his mouth, connecting him back to Bruce with a thin trail of saliva.
"Bruce. Can I… also call you those words? Are they special only for an alpha to omega?"
"You can call me anything," Bruce groans. "Anything you want at all, I will be overjoyed to hear it. My love, you still don't know the effect you have on me, body and soul.
Kal hides, again, at the declaration. He'd never had a long-term partner, Bruce had learned quickly into their relationship. No one to hold him at night and promise him the world, no quiet mornings where they proved their word.
Bruce hadn't realized his slip when it came to gentle utterances and petnames. It had simply clicked in his mind that he is allowed to be verbally affectionate with his husband—loves it very much, actually. He loves knowing that Kal gets so overrun by pleasure at each one that he can't help but feel hot, needy.
"So perfect," Bruce groans, just as Kal begins to grind himself against Bruce's groin.
"My husband," Kal whispers. "Alpha."
Fuck. Bruce pulls Kal into him with a noise that is, admittedly, feral. He can't be expected to control himself when Kal-El says it like that, that's much too unfair.
He begins to lower himself to his knees, carefully planting Kal-El's feet down flat so he doesn't slip on the tiles. Then, stone digging into his knees, he closes his mouth around the thick pocket of fat along Kal's hips, just to desperately leave little hickeys there.
"Wait!" Kal calls, voice trembling. "We shouldn't—"
"Want to." Bruce bites down on the waistband of his swimsuit and pulls. Kal's hand comes to rest against the top of his head, and Bruce takes it as permission to tug the little suit down so he can have unfettered access to Kal's pussy.
When the fingers in his hair tighten, especially when he breathes out a harsh breath and grinds his palm into his own cock, Bruce has the wherewithal to pause.
"Kal-El," he groans. "You'll be my death if you tease me any longer."
"You'll be uncomfortable," Kal argues, as if Bruce wouldn't lay on a bed of nails if it meant being allowed to lick up the arousal slowly dripping down his legs. "C'mere, up up. Follow me."
Bruce stands again, eyes attached to the nape of Kal's neck as he turns away, surveying for somewhere nearby they can hide so that Bruce can get back to worshiping his body.
With a hand around Bruce's wrist, Kal tugs him towards the pergola that leads from the beach to the grassy area of the island. It would almost be a gazebo, except the only thing acting as walls were the thin, mesh bug nets to keep pests away.
Kal can barely slip away from Bruce's grabbing hands as he reflexively reaches for the tied up curtains, to give them privacy. He bites back his moan as Bruce's hand cups between his legs, finger purposefully tapping against his hidden clit. Stubbornly, Kal stays still until he's unlatched at least one curtain and allowed it to flow down and try to wrap around them with the current of the wind.
"Mine," Bruce purrs. "Come lay with me, my omega. I still need to taste you."
Kal gasps when the one finger becomes two, gently parting his lips so that Bruce can play with the girth of his clit between the two of them.
"Mnn—Bruce…!"
Bruce takes one step backwards, then another. Kal is helpless but to follow him, swaying with each rub against his sensitive flesh. Soon, the backs of Bruce's knees hit a lounger, and he doesn't even hesitate before he's turned Kal around so that he can try to tug him onto Bruce's face at the same time he lays back.
Kal resists, but only so that he can undress properly. When he bends over he makes a soft sound of exertion, like an 'oof', something he's begun to do now that their little one is getting heavier. Bruce's cock throbs where it's still confined in his own beachwear.
But finally, there is nothing else holding him back from his prize.
"Are you sure I should—?"
"Yes," Bruce rumbles. "No more waiting."
Kal doesn't torture him any longer. With a fond huff, he follows Bruce onto the reclined chair. Though his thighs part shyly, it takes too much effort to lower himself slowly. With Bruce's insistent hands back on his hips, pulling him down, Kal-El is quickly sitting all of himself directly against Bruce's tongue, already wriggling its way out of his mouth.
The pleased groan that sounds from Bruce's chest is echoed by the moan Kal makes, hands planting themselves on either side of Bruce's legs as he leans forward, to at least give Bruce some avenue to breathe by.
Bruce digs his thumbs into Kal's upper thighs and uses that leverage to pull Kal back and forth across his tongue.
The taste is just as lovely as always, Bruce unrepentant as he swirls his tongue around the outer labia kissing his lips. When he slips it in between, swiping through the thick build-up of arousal, he physically feels the way Kal's clit throbs with need.
Bruce's eyes blink open. If Kal had been facing the other direction, all he'd be able to see is the swell of his heavy belly, perhaps feel it against his forehead as he nuzzles his tongue in deeper.
He stores the idea in the back of his mind for another time. He isn't sure he won't snap if he's taken away from this delicious cunt before he's made him cum properly.
Kal's hips buck against him as Bruce suckles the length of his clit into his mouth. The nub itself is quite small, something that Bruce has to tease with the very tip of his tongue, gently so that the direct stimulation doesn't make Kal ache. But it's surrounded by a layer of foreskin, giving Kal a bit of a reprieve from Bruce's insatiable tongue.
He licks at it eagerly in wide, lapping strokes. Letting Kal feel the texture of his tastebuds, teasing himself as he feels Kal get wetter and wetter from the attention.
When he feels Kal nuzzle his mouth in against his clothed erection, Bruce sucks his clit into his mouth again and flicks at it with his tongue properly.
"Ohhgosh," Kal whimpers. He thumbs at the cock before him, but he has to pause to fist his fingers in Bruce's trunks as Bruce purposefully spreads his ass so that he can begin to slide his tongue directly into the heat of him, to lap up all the precum drizzling out of him like nectar.
"Bruce…!"
Kal spreads his thighs wider, tucking his knees so he can lower himself even more and fit more of that tongue inside of him. "Bruce, Bruce, Bruce—!"
Bruce answers reflexively with a hum, the vibration making Kal clamp down on the appendage in him. Rhythmically, his hips thrust downward to follow the sensation, until he is soon grinding himself against every part of Bruce's face that he can.
Pleased, Bruce uses his free hand to feel along the curve of Kal's back. He follows the planes of it up, from his spine to the curve of his ass, and then greedily slides his arm around his waist so that he has even more leverage to pull Kal onto his tongue. He feels against his bicep how Kal's thighs tremble, feels against his chest how Kal moans for it, words lost to him.
Like this, he urges Kal to cum directly against his palate. Riding his tongue as if he owns it, Kal loses himself to the rhythm and humps humps humps until Bruce groans from the mind-numbing pleasure of it all.
Kal's voice stammers out of him, halted each time he fucks his hips down again. When he tries to muffle his voice by mouthing at Bruce's tip through the trunks, Bruce curls and twists his tongue until he finds the pleasurable little g-spot inside of his omega and laps at it as if he's a starving man before an endless bowl of fruit.
Kal's thighs tense and tighten. His belly digs into Bruce's abs, the muscle there going taut as he gets closer and closer to that edge. Bruce is sure that his toes are curling, even, something he does when he cums really really hard. God, Bruce wants to taste it.
He slurps loudly, trying to catch the glob of slick that spills before it ends up wasted and dripping down his chin. It pulls his tongue from inside his lover, the loss of which causes Kal to cry out.
"Nngh—ah, Rao—!" Kal dissolves into a verbal tangle of Kryptonese and English, though most of it is muffled to Bruce's ears. Both by the thighs bearing down on him, and the frantic, excited pounding of his own heart.
Mine, echoes through his brain. Mine, mine, mine.
For the rest of his life, he gets to have Kal-El, and gets to be his in turn.
Bruce spears his tongue in and out in quick succession, right against that soft, spongy part of Kal's pussy. He feels a short of cum spurt out in a thick pulse, tastes it like wine on his tongue.
Kal tries to speak, maybe, or is still sobbing in Kryptonese and Bruce can't parse the words. Either way, soon Kal has sat up and pressed his entire weight on Bruce's face, trying to force that tongue deeper and urge out another spurt.
Bruce wouldn't dare dream of disappointing him. He leans up into the pressure of it, holding his breath as another burst of slick acts as his reward. Then another, and another until, finally, Kal gasps as the pleasure crests in him and he cries out freely, up at the sky.
It's so wet that Bruce isn't sure if it's cum or drool dripping off his chin. Either way, Bruce doesn't stop wriggling his tongue and lapping at what he can until Kal's voice breaks and he's twisting his hips in little circles to milk the rest of his orgasm out.
Yesyesyes, be greedy for it. Bruce wants him to take what he needs; anything he wants.
Kal flops forward just as Bruce growls, loud and thumpy from deep inside his chest. He almost opens his mouth to bite down on Kal's inner thighs, to add a claim mark there until he remembers the issue of Kal's impervious flesh.
Instead, he laps at the buildup of sweat there, in the juncture between thigh and mound, breathing in deep.
His head feels hazy. Bruce notes this as if from second person, head limply falling onto the cabana chair as he loses his strength. Being drowned can do that to a person.
Bruce's tongue lolls out of his mouth as Kal tries, and fails the first two times, to lift himself fully from Bruce's face so he can breathe. Purposefully, Bruce drags his tongue across the twitching, swollen nub of nerves right in front of him, halting Kal's progress each time.
But, unfortunately, Kal regains his composure sooner rather than later, and soon as his knees back under him. Still on either side of Bruce's head, granting him the wonderful sight of Kal's cunt from an eye-level perspective, but no longer blocking all the oxygen from his lungs.
Sitting up to give it one last kiss, Bruce sighs. Content, aroused, perhaps even a bit smug. He can't go far, but he wouldn't want to anyway. He just ends up closer to Kal again, until Kal huffs and begins to lift himself up and off.
"Bruce," his omega calls for him sweetly, another hint of desire seeping out of him, almost in mimicry of the slick trickling from his wet pussy.
Bruce opens his mouth to reply, or to at least beg to eat him out again, but Kal interrupts first. He crawls forward a few paces, ass swaying as he tries not to crush Bruce with his legs, before he reaches back as best he can to feel along his own hole. His fingers pull back with a wet, sticky line attached to the tips just from a two-second touch.
"I need you in me," Kal pleads, breathing heavily. "I'm so—it's so empty in me. Please, Bruce—My Bruce, I—"
Bruce sits up the entire way, bodily lifting Kal so that he can reach, and with little fanfare, shoves his swimsuit down so that his cock can bob into view.
It lands heavily against his lower belly, but Kal doesn't let it stay there for long. He reaches for it and thumbs at the tip, carefully circling the urethra until Bruce makes a helpless noise.
He's about the hardest he's ever been, one leg falling off of the lounger so that Kal has more room. But when Kal doesn't immediately crawl down and take what he needs, Bruce nips at him. A soft little bite, a playful reminder for his omega not to forget what his alpha is here for: pleasing him however he so desires.
Like the little minx he is, Kal dawdles for just a moment longer to lap up the sticky precum that has built on the tip, before he quickly lifts himself. He twists, purposefully floating so he doesn't have to stand entirely, and then plops himself back down atop Bruce's thighs.
Like this, he can see the needy little tears that have built up on Kal-El's lashes. He sometimes cries when he's near orgasm, so overwhelmed by the pleasure that it bursts out of him in more ways than one.
Bruce coos at him regardless, briefly lapping at his chops like a dog that has just gotten a treat, before he reaches forward to kiss his love.
"Mmh!" Kal makes a soft noise as he tastes himself on Bruce's lips. Or, perhaps, it's the way that he feels Bruce hump forward, cock getting caught in the fold between his lower belly and the mound of his cunt.
"Take what you need, darling," Bruce urges. "Every inch of me belongs to you."
The look Kal gives him is enough to drive him to be a useless, horny mess for the rest of his days. Eyes lidded, pupils dilated, mouth ajar as his tongue slowly slides across first his top lip, then his bottom. Admiring Bruce like he wants to eat him whole.
Kal reaches down between their legs, reaching around his stomach, until he has wrapped Bruce's cock in his fist.
"Mine," Kal whispers.
Carefully, Kal drags the tip of Bruce's cock between the wet and soft of his pussy lips. Coating it with his essence until Bruce swallows heavily, feeling a drop build up and drip its way down his shaft.
When Kal begins to sink down on it, purposefully slow, Bruce's leg thumps like an excited animal. He digs his fingers into the fat of Kal's hip, though he doesn't even remember grabbing on, and moans so whoreishly that Kal shushes him, flustered by the noise.
When Bruce moans again as the next inch is slowly swallowed up by the heat of his omega, Kal hides. His entire body trembles as he presses his ear directly against Bruce's heart, breath puffing out of him in ragged, needy mewls.
Bruce can't stop himself as Kal continues sinking down, he slowly lifts his hips to meet him halfway. Slow enough that Kal can pull away if he chooses, but fast enough that it satisfies the inner beast in him. The part of him that wants to cum so much in his omega that he balloons out despite the pup in him and looks even heavier.
Kal nods along with each barely-there thrust, silent in his encouragement. His voice has entirely left him the more he gets filled up, until, finally, Bruce feels that little clit of his rub right against his groin.
It's then that Kal gasps, the noise broken. Bruce kisses his temple, a gentle comfort, before he pulls out. Just an inch or so, so that he can thrust it right back in.
Kal meets him halfway this time, just as eager as he is to never part again.
His cock throbs inside of him, enveloped so entirely by undulating walls eager to make him spill before it's the right time. Bruce knows he must look a mess, cupping his hands along Kal's waist, up to the planes of his back, scratching against his shoulderblades, before he wraps both arms entirely around Kal so that he can hold him close and fuck up into him.
He feels the sharp of his canines against his lip each time he growls too loud. Wanting to scruff his omega when he cums next, to show him the next summit of pleasure he can bestow upon him.
"My love," Bruce groans.
"Alpha," Kal responds beautifully. He reaches down, and Bruce meets him. Their palms press flat together, acting as leverage as Kal sits up fully, showing off the roundness of his stomach, the thick of his thighs, the bounce of his tits as he begins to lift and drop himself with that same handhold.
From this angle, with this position, Bruce's cock slides in slow and deep. Usually Kal's legs are big enough to keep him from sliding in too far. Now, spread open as he is, they have to be careful not to thrust in too quickly lest they want to hit the hypersensitive ring of his cervix. They get close like this, Kal's voice catching every time it so much as glances him inside.
But he doesn't stop, eyes rolling back as he drinks in the pleasure. Intense, but not bad. Deep, but not painful. Bruce is careful as he begins to take over the pace of the thrusting, especially when he feels Kal beginning to tremble from the exertion. Too much pleasure and having to thrust against it himself when he should be laying back and demanding his alpha do it for him.
The mental image of Kal brattily telling him to thrust deeper has Bruce laughing. One short, ragged laugh that is more of a heady moan than anything. Still, it catches Kal's attention.
He squeezes down on Bruce's palm, leaning over so that he can look Bruce in the eye as he takes his cock. It makes the thicker curls at the top of his head fall forward, tickling at his forehead all the way down to his eyelashes. Especially when Bruce twitches inside of him, prompting him to curl in on himself and try to get him to do it again.
It shows off his neck, being like this. Each bounce makes his head tip, the muscle in his neck tense as he increases the pace of his bouncing. Bruce has to look away from the unmarked skin before it drives him insane, lifting his hands higher so Kal has more of him to use as leverage, so he can thrust from tip to knot if he so pleases.
Kal does. He moans thankfully, lifting one leg so that he can fuck himself even harder onto it.
"Ahh…. a-ahh, d—" Kal swallows heavily. "Darling… you feel so good inside me. So big."
As he says this, he purposefully takes the slowly swelling knot inside of him and bears down on it, knowing how it drives Bruce crazy to have any pressure at all around it. Often, Bruce will knot his own hand as he eats Kal out, happy to just be doused in his omega's scent.
Now, it takes all of his concentration to hold himself back. With a hiss, Bruce tries to pull his own hips back to recede from the intense pleasure, but Kal chases, greedy.
"Darling," Bruce repeats, head emptying. "My love."
The partially popped knot slips back out as Kal rises again, all the way to the very tip. When it nearly slips out, Kal clamps down so that he can aim it directly against his g-spot, using the rounded tip the same way he does when he rides Bruce's fingers. Rubbing purposefully against his insides, smearing around the natural lubrication leaking from Bruce's tip until he's satisfied himself.
He stays obediently still as Kal plays with his cock like a toy, but he doesn't realize he's gripping Kal's hands with all his might until Kal speaks next.
"I can feel how much you need me, my Bruce. As much as I need you," he moans. "Deep inside. Filling me up again, always overwhelming me with the pleasure of your love… always making me yours."
He can't hold himself back any longer.
Bruce thrusts in roughly, Kal's body jumping at the sudden jolt of stimulation inside of him. When he loses balance and falls forward, Bruce is there to hold him, digging his heels into the chair so that he can fuck him the way he deserves.
"Too deep?" He asks, voice all alpha-growl.
Kal shakes his head, voice lost all at once. He lifts his hips up a few inches, until they sound of their fucking is an audible 'plap, plap, plap' and Bruce pounds into him from below. It perfects the angle, allowing Bruce to hit that spot inside of Kal with pinpoint accuracy.
Fingers cling onto his shoulders as Kal hangs on for the ride. They might leave little bruises when all is done, marking Bruce another way. Yet another claim that Bruce can't properly reciprocate.
A needy whine builds up in him. He wants to. He wants Kal to be visibly his, wants Kal to find comfort in knowing that Bruce is happy to have him sport his mating mark.
"Bruce," his omega cries out for him.
Bruce almost gives in, resigned to letting his teeth shatter if only for the chance of feeling Kal's heartbeat against his molars. He needs Kal to know how much Bruce wants him, needs him to know that he'll spend the rest of his life devoted to bringing him pleasure just like this every day henceforth.
"Kal-El," Bruce moans. "Kal, hnng—"
"I'm so close," Kal replies beautifully, hands a flurry all across Bruce's skin as he tries to find the perfect place to hold onto him. "You feel so good, 'm gonna—I'm cumming, ggosh…!"
Bruce's mouth opens, hovering over the pulsing jugular beneath them.
Kal-El bites him, first.
The teeth don't pierce, but they bite hard, just as his slick gushes from him in a thick squirt, coating the both of them in his cum.
He digs his teeth in purposefully against Bruce's gland on his neck, panting wetly as he does. It makes Bruce's own mouth drop open as he whines uselessly into Kal's ear, head lolling to one side as his omega reclaims him, then and there. Each time another wave of his climax hits him, another bit of slick gushes.
It's the best thing he's ever felt. Immediately, that feral need in him has been tamed, and he is only too happy to allow Kal to bite him again, beg for it if he must so that he can have as many marks bearing Kal's claim as he can fit on his skin.
His knot balloons out before he can even begin to think of the words to warn him. He's helpless as Kal pulls his teeth away, licking fully across them as if the taste of Bruce against them brings him the greatest pleasure. When he lifts up next, Bruce's twitching fingers still clamped onto him like a vice, he nearly pulls the knot all the way out, leaving Bruce to knot the air.
But, just before it gets too wide, too thick and stretching, Kal squeezes back down and grinds, little circle after little circle, until the entirety of it has caught in his cunt and Bruce is spilling heavy globs of cum directly against his cervix, where the tip of his cock just barely rests, just enough to stimulate the sensitive muscle.
His omega clamps down on it perfectly, the pressure of the knot against every single part of him only serving to elongate his orgasm.
When he goes limp, it's purely by reflex that he catches him. His brain is so empty that he, truthfully, doesn't remember either of their names. All he knows is omega, and mine, and mate and anything in between.
He laps at his omega's jaw with his tongue, licking away the sweat there.
"Yours," Bruce mumbles, kissing Kal's neck.
"Mm," Kal agrees, the post-orgasm haze hitting him in the form of drowsiness. "My alpha."
Bruce's cock, half-hardened and still deep inside of him, twitches with interest.
The laugh that bursts out of Kal-El is like the sun rising over the horizon.
"You're insatiable," he mumbles, idly rocking his hips so that the both of them can focus on the way they're locked together. There's a slick noise from the build-up of cum between them.
Bruce licks his lips, and Kal-El laughs.
"Bruce," he sighs, joyful. Every time he calls Bruce's name, it's like the rest of the world melts away.
Bruce kisses him, if only to distract himself before he gets hard again without even pulling out of his partner.
Kal meets him with another little giggle, all too comfortable being cradled by Bruce's solid arms which keep him from wiggling away too much. It keeps him exactly where he needs to be, his round, pregnant belly supported between them as he drinks down Bruce's little chirruping noises, lost as he is in loving his omega.
It's only inevitable that he does, in fact, get hard again. It's difficult to deny himself when his lover is just as delicious as he looks.
"Just like that, sweetheart," Bruce mumbles as he fingers Kal-El right in the comfort of their nest.
Night has fallen by now, the two of them having spent the remainder of the day in as close of an embrace as two lovers can get.
Kal gasps sweetly, leg lifted to make room for Bruce's insistent hand. It had begun with Bruce simply trying to clean him out of all the loads of cum that had been stuffed in him, trapped by the knot that kept locking them together over and over.
It quickly devolved into another session of Bruce trying to make him cum until Kal squirts on him again.
"Honey," Kal whines freely, no longer shy with the affectionate nickname. "I can't take anymore, please—in me again, please."
Bruce shushes him as he uses his hand, the one dripping with Kal's slick, to stroke his cock off just a few times before he's slowly pressing into the searing heat of him.
From behind, Bruce can fuck him nice and slow. And, because they're reclining, he has the added pleasure of being able to properly caress Kal's stomach. God, he's so perfect.
"Yes," Kal moans. "Just like that, love. My love."
The possessiveness has Bruce shivering. When he sneaks his hand again between Kal's thighs, he can feel himself thrusting in and out. Kal's clit has gone thick, muscle taut as he nears his umpteenth orgasm that day.
Bruce has no doubt, after this one, that Kal will fall asleep. He's already mumbling sleepily, head bowed forward as if he can watch the way Bruce thrusts in and out of him.
It leaves his nape bared. Bruce hardly pauses his thrusting so that he can kiss the number of hickeys there, lined there like a necklace. They fade quickly, thanks to Kal's power, but he seems all too happy to feel Bruce suckle on them again and again, just to make each mark last longer.
Happy to be claimed, just as Bruce is.
"Oh…" Kal breathes in deep, legs twitching. When he grabs for Bruce's hand, he places it firmly along the middle curve of his belly, where their pup has decided to thump against over and over to capture their attention. "She's…"
Kal struggles to find the words, sleep-addled as he is. He's limp and relaxed, practically melting into the plush blanket stuffed underneath to act as a mattress topper. Kal loves a bed he can sink into.
"Perfect," Bruce whispers for him, right against his skin.
"Mm," Kal agrees, in the comfort of his alpha's embrace. "Perfect."