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Clark woke in the middle of the night craving Asian food. Why? He had no idea, but he had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with the two gremlins which were already making him look much rounder in his fourth month than their big brother had in his sixth.
He tried to make do. He went downstairs and looked the fridge top to bottom, even tried the deep-freeze where he kept a stash of Cappuccino frozen yogurt, but, nothing. Nothing at all was appealing to him. He wanted wonton soup and sesame seed chicken, and probably a bottle of that amazing aloe juice they served at…
Oh, he wanted that restaurant. The one he and Bruce had gone to when Conner had been stung by a wasp. They had returned a few times during the day, even taking the family with them, and everyone loved it.
But it was nearly one a.m. and Clark wasn’t sure how he felt driving the long stretch into town by himself at night. If it was just him, he wouldn’t worry so much, but he had two pups to worry about. And he couldn’t wake Bruce for this, that wouldn’t be fair. Bruce had come in from a long flight to China earlier that day, and had been incredibly jetlagged; Clark had practically felt it through their bond.
But he wanted that food …
Oh, no. Here came the tears.
There’s no sense crying over Wonton soup, dammit! he scolded himself, but it made him feel worse. It was like the world felt wrong unless he could find a way to fix his predicament, and he knew it was just the stupid hormones, but that didn’t make him feel any better. It made him feel worse , knowing that there was no reason to feel this way over some damn food that happened to be out of his reach, but that he couldn’t make himself feel any better trying to reason with himself.
And so, sobbing like a pup, Clark was sitting on the floor against the fridge at one in the morning when Bruce came down to find him, lured out of sleep by his mate’s distress.
“Hey, sweetheart, what’s the matter?” Bruce pet his hair as he spoke softly to him, his voice a little raspy from his broken sleep.
“I didn’t wanna wake you.” Clark sobbed, tears falling to his lap, then exclaimed all at once: “I wanted something to eat, but we don’t have what I want, and I didn’t want to drive by myself all that way, but I know you’re tired from your flight, and I know it’s stupid to cry over wonton soup, but I-I-I- just couldn’t hold it! ” he covered his mouth with one hand, a fresh wave of sobs making him shake.
Bruce knelt beside him and held him close, waiting for the sobs to quiet a bit before speaking.
“Clark, my sleep is kind of messed-up from the time zone change, anyway. Let’s get t-shirts and sweats, and then we’ll go get some wonton soup.”
Clark dissolved into fresh sobs at this, but Bruce managed to help him stand and they went back upstairs to start getting ready for their late-night excursion.
Damian and Conner were both woken, as well, sensing Clark’s distress through the parental bond, but, once the situation was explained, Damian helped get Conner back to bed.
As they sat in the backseat of the car eating, Clark kept making these little satisfied sounds, amusing Bruce.
“Clark, are you eating that, or are you eating that?” he grinned when Clark was about halfway through.
Feeling better now that his food craving was being tended to, Clark was starting to feel a bit of a different craving, and so winked at Bruce as he brought another spoonful of soup to his mouth, this time pulling the spoon out slowly, deliberately, letting his eyes fall half-shut, watching Bruce react.
Bruce swallowed, and made to finish his food quickly. Clark saw the manic look in his eye, and did the same, washing everything down with the aloe juice.
The containers were quickly discarded into the back hatch, and then Bruce was on him, kissing him hungrily, the taste of wonton soup and aloe juice still fresh on both their breath.
Clark suddenly had an idea, and he wanted to pursue it before he lost it, again. They’d occasionally try to work up to him sucking Bruce, but they didn’t work on it consistently, and, so far, it hadn’t worked.
But right now? Clark wanted to have his Alpha’s cock in his mouth.
“Bruce…” Clark panted as he gently pushed him back. “Sit forward. I wanna try something.”
Bruce obeyed, and then Clark was able to stretch himself over the rest of the backseat, and started pushing down Bruce’s pants. Bruce lifted his hips to help, and then his cock sprang free of the cotton.
“I need you to talk to me, okay?” Clark said, looking him in the eye. “Just, to remind me that it’s you.”
Bruce’s eyes widened momentarily when he realised what Clark meant.
“Whatever you need, sweetheart. I gotcha.”
Before continuing, Clark sat back up for a moment and peeled off his t-shirt, then laid back to be level with Bruce’s cock.
He took hold of the warm, pulsing prick, leaning in to breathe in his Alpha’s musk. The scent was different enough, and it had been long enough, that he didn’t feel scared. Clark smiled at the realisation, and then licked the tip, grinning further when this brought out a spurt of precome. He licked again, testing the taste, and then sucked the glans into his mouth, his eyes rolling back.
He could feel the difference through the bond, doing this for Bruce versus Lex taking his pleasure this way. There were nonstop waves of love and appreciation and Clark felt so wonderfully cared for as Bruce ran his fingers through his hair, tugging just so, sometimes scritching his scalp.
“Oh, Clark…” Bruce said, breathless. “You feel so good, darling. I love you, sweetheart. My sweet Omega. Love you so much.”
Bruce kept one hand on Clark’s head, but used the other to cup one breast, thumbing at the nipple, making it pert and taut.
Clark was torn between wanting to get Bruce to come in his mouth, or to find a way to get him to fuck him in the small space. He was loving the feeling of Bruce in his mouth, and really wanted to try getting him to come this way, but his own arousal was demanding attention, and he could feel his sweatpants sticking like crazy.
With a pop, he let go of Bruce’s cock.
“Think we got enough room for you to fuck me?” Clark asked.
Bruce helped Clark sit up again, then had him sit in one corner while he reached between the two front seats to pull the levers so he could push them forward. He then helped Clark off with his pants, and Clark got into position in the middle of the back seat, facing the rear window, kneeling up against the seat. Bruce got behind him, guiding him to push his ass out, and then slowly slipped inside him, earning a long, high whimper.
Clark held on to the top of the seats while Bruce fucked into him, the upholstery a nice, different sort of feeling against his cock. Bruce had one hand under Clark’s arm to hold the seat for balance, while the other was around Clark’s middle, just above his puppy-pocket; his cheek was against Clark’s shoulder.
“Oh, fuck, Clark.” Bruce growled into his ear. “You feel amazing.”
“ You feel amazing.” Clark panted back. “You’re so deep inside me, Bruce. Gonna pop another puppy in there?”
Bruce growled again, a primal, possessive sound that had Clark on the point of giggles.
Bruce used his teeth at the bond mark, then lowered one hand to stroke Clark’s belly.
“My sweet Omega, full of my pups.” he breathed in Clark’s ear. “You’re so beautiful, darling. Can’t wait to taste your milk, too.” he cupped his breast and gave it a light squeeze.
Through the lusty haze, Clark got an idea.
“Bruce, if you can make me come, first, then I want you to come in my mouth, okay? I wanna taste you, Alpha.”
“Fuuuuck…” Bruce whined, then tried to adjust the angle of his thrusts, using both hands to caress his breasts, now, and then snaking his right hand down to take hold of Clark’s leaking cock. Bruce didn’t jack him roughly, instead using tight, slow tugs, sometimes thumbing the tip, but always using the kind of pace he knew Clark liked best.
It was when Bruce started nipping at his scent gland that Clark felt the edge coming towards him in a rush, and then all of a sudden he was making a mess of the upholstery in front of him, smearing it with his come.
Bruce held him until he had no more to give, and then pulled out, sliding over to a corner. Clark eagerly took him in his mouth again, tasting his own juices all over his mate’s cock, and began bobbing his head while pumping with his hand, trying to get Bruce to come.
He didn’t have to wait long before Bruce was moaning loud and deep, and then his mouth was flooded with the salty, somewhat bitter come.
Clark swallowed all of it, and then pulled back, laying his head in Bruce’s lap, his Alpha’s still-hard prick mere centimetres from his face, the knot keeping it erect.
Clark smiled.
“When we get home,” he said quietly. “I think I’ll want you to fuck me again.”
Bruce started laughing, pulling laughter out of Clark with it.
“Sure thing, darling.” Bruce told him while petting his hair.
***
“Kent! Get in here!”
Clark jumped as he heard Perry shout for him.
“Right away, sir.”
Jimmy shrugged, giving him a thumbs-up for luck as Clark made his way to the editor’s office. Perry was standing facing the window, overlooking the sprawling city.
“Shut the door, Kent.”
Clark did so, standing near the front of the desk.
Perry turned around and turned his monitor around for Clark to see.
Photographs taken by a long lens through a rear-passenger window of two people in the back of the car, clearly in the middle of--
Oh, shit… that’s us… Clark swallowed as he felt his face burn hot.
“There’s also a video confirming that to be Bruce Wayne’s car by way of the license plate number. At first, I was worried that he was cheating on you, as that’s what the person who sent these in seemed to think. But then I recognised you, right here.” he clicked on one of the photos to enlarge it, where Clark’s face was turned almost in the direction of where the photographer was.
“If we don’t buy the photos, they’ll take them elsewhere, but the amount they’re asking is absurd, especially as I have no intention of publishing them. I thought you might wanna sic your mate on them.”
Clark looked up at Perry.
“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
“I’ll put them on a jump drive and delete them from my hardrive.” Perry told him, which was actually Perry-talk for: I’ll have Jimmy put them on a jump drive and have him delete them from my hardrive.
***
The person who’d taken the pictures turned out to be a nervous pup, sixteen years old, who thought that he’d struck gold with them. He was a nervous wreck when Bruce, Clark, Jimmy, and Commissioner Gordon visited his house, especially with his mother right there to be properly ashamed of him.
“But-- it’s proof that you cheat on your mate! The world deserves to know the truth!” his voice was cracking even as he tried to sound brave.
Clark cleared his throat.
“No, he was not cheating on me, because I was the other person in the car.”
The pup looked confused.
“You’re not his mate, you’re a journalist.”
“Kevin!” his mother chided, looking for all the world like he didn’t want to be in the room.
Four years… Clark thought, exasperated, as he brought his hand to his face. Been married four years, made plenty of public appearances with Bruce, and people still don’t know we’re married.
“Son,” Bruce told him, clearly at the limits of his patience. “When I saw those pictures, and learned the asking price, I thought to myself, ‘this pup’s pretty smart, being able to organise this.’ But apparently, you’re actually just a dumb mutt who happens to be good with a camera. If you even know how to use that fancy smartphone of yours, try searching our names together and see what comes up.”
The teen scrambled for his phone, operating it with shaky hands, and emitted a pathetic squeak as soon as the results appeared before him.
“So, we have attempts at smearing my reputation, which would have dragged my mate into the mess once word got out that we were both in the pictures.” Bruce said. “Pretty sure libel law protects me there. Unless you’re willing to submit your camera, computer, phone, and any back-up drives you have to the police--”
The teen squeaked again.
“And then Jimmy, here, will be sure to delete only those photos which affect my mate and myself. We will leave everything else alone, unless there are things of an illicit nature.”
“But-- but--”
“It’s this, or you get a record.”
“Oh, he will turn everything in, mr. Wayne.” the boy’s mother broke in. “I’ll make sure of it.”
The teen swallowed and nodded.
“Also,” Jimmy stepped forward. “As a professional photographer, I have some pointers on how to get you started without trying to threaten people. The work on those photos was good, you clearly have a good eye. But let’s see if we can get you making money without committing felonies, shall we?”
“He’ll be ever so grateful, right, Kevin?” the mother said sternly, crossing his arms.
“Yes, sir.” Kevin gulped.
***
A couple of weeks later, when another late-night craving struck, Bruce and Clark were sure to park the car in a more secluded area before eating. Unfortunately, they had to deal with coitus interruptus when an over-eager cop thought he’d found a sex worker servicing a client. If Bruce hadn’t been so frustrated with the interruption, he might have found humour at the sight of Clark letting full pregnancy-driven Omega fury out at the cop, a green rookie who, Clark and Bruce were later assured, was later given a full dressing-down by Gordon, as well.
“I thought he’d learned his lesson when I heard from Barbara that he’d interrupted her and Dick while they were winding down from their date!” Gordon had sounded exasperated when he told them the news. “But the idiot’s some self-righteous moron who thinks it’s his duty to catch hookers. I can’t wait for the day Dent manages to help bring legalisation to the state. I know it’s something he’s working on; he’s been looking at New Zealand’s model for sex work regulation.”
Even though the food would be cold when they arrived, Clark and Bruce stopped trying to have sex in the car, waiting until they got home, instead.
After parking the car in the driveway, they’d push the seats forward, have sex, then go to the kitchen to heat the take-out.
Whatever it took for Clark’s cravings to be satisfied.