Archive of Our Own

Bruce stared. He stared and didn't blink, but the time was passing, and he was still seeing double.

Next to him, Barry opened his mouth to make a groundbreaking observation.

“This is weird." 

If this was the level of eloquence he wrote his forensic reports with, Bruce wondered how Barry managed to hold a job for so long.

“I don't know,” Hal commented, leaning towards his best friend. “It has its perks." 

“Such as?" 

“Now we have two Supes on our team!" Hal concluded excitedly, pointing at two Clarks standing in front of the whole League.

Spitting image. There was no way to tell which one was real, and which one was the clone the magic spell that hit Clark created.

They had the same suits, same postures, same eyes. Even the same, cute locks over their foreheads.

And the same confusion written on their faces - just as clueless about the whole situation as the whole team.

"We have no idea if he even has the same powers,” Diana pointed out, arms crossed over her chest.

One of the Clarks looked down at his hands, closing them into fists, testing the strength. "I feel normal,” he said, his other self mimicking his actions.

Bruce watched both closely, not being anywhere close to figuring out which one was which.

The spell hit Superman with a cloud of blue smoke. He put himself in harm's way to protect Diana. When the smoke dissolved, there were already two of them, staring at each other in surprise.

Thankfully, the magic clone or whatever it was, wasn't aggressive like they initially thought, and no fight broke out.

"So, uh…" Barry spoke again. “Which one is our Superman?” he asked, pointing at one, then at the other.

"I AM!” they answered at the same time, and immediately glared at each other, muscles flexing in a threatening manner.

The fight was still on the table. Bruce was both concerned and slightly aroused.

"Hey, Bats, he's your husband," Hal redirected his attention. “Can't you tell which is which with your freaky husband powers?”

Bruce turned his gaze away from the two Clarks and looked at Hal.

"I don't know what you think marriage is, but it's just a paper, Hal, not some superpower,” he explained with annoyance.

"Just a paper?" one of the Clarks, hopefully the real one, gasped in offence. “Bruce!” he whined with hurt in his voice.

Bruce turned again and was met with not one, but two sets of puppy dog eyes looking at him sadly. It made him feel twice as bad for saying what he said.

"You know what I mean,” he murmured to both of them.

He valued their marriage. He was the one that proposed after all, he was just making a point to Jordan.

"At least in Mortal Kombat the same character has slightly different colors to tell them apart,” Barry said, still looking for that one difference that could tell the two Clarks apart.

There was none. Bruce didn't have "freaky husband powers", as Hal put it, but he knew his husband well. He would notice if something was amiss or wrong.

“J’onn?" Bruce asked the Martian, hopeful.

J’onn narrowed his eyes as he stared at two Clarks. They both winced when he got into their heads.

“I can't tell the difference,” he informed after a couple of seconds, cutting the mental connection. The two Clarks breathed out in relief, then gave the Manhunter an annoyed look. "Their minds are the same. It seems it's not an illusion or a different consciousness. More like a perfect copy." 

Bruce's jaw clenched. That wasn't helping. Without knowing which Clark was which, they didn't know what to do with the copy. They were facing a possibility of having to leave both in the Watchtower for the night.

Bruce wasn't thrilled. He forgot how it felt to sleep alone.

“Let me try," Arthur suggested.

He approached the two Clarks, stopping right in front of them. They watched him with the same, adorable tilt of their heads as he placed palms in the center of their chests.

Bruce held his breath. Arthur was the only one among them right now who wielded magic. He wasn't the best at it and rarely used it, but he at least knew it and had a vague idea what was going on.

It felt like forever before he removed his palms.

“This one is Superman,” he said, patting the shoulder of the one on the left.

The air escaped Bruce's lungs with a quiet, relieved sigh.

“I told you, guys," the apparently real Clark said with triumph. 

The other one looked around in confusion and with a slight hurt in his eyes. 

A sting cut through Bruce's chest. It wasn't his Clark, but the pain on his face looked just the same, and it was enough to flare up Bruce's natural protectiveness towards his husband.

Even if it was just a clone.

“What am I then?" he questioned Arthur.

“An exact magic copy,” Arthur answered. “Thoughts, emotions. Everything." 

“Bruce, quick!” Barry panicked. "Put something on the right Supes so you don't mistake them!" 

Huffing, Bruce walked to his husband, the real one, and pulled a pair of spare glasses from his utility belt, putting them gently on Clark's nose.

Clark smiled at him with gratitude, pushing the glasses higher, and Bruce's heart skipped a beat.

"What do we do now?” real Clark asked, turning his gaze to his clone, looking at him with sympathy.

"Can you break the spell?” Diana asked Arthur.

The Atlantean shook his head. "I'm not touching that," he refused strongly. “I don't want to mess something up. We better wait for Zatanna.”

It was a smart thing to do, leave this to an expert. Only there was a problem with that.

"She won't be back until later tomorrow,” Bruce pointed out.

That meant they were stuck with Clark's magic clone for 24 hours.

"The spell could wear off on its own," J’onn suggested.

“Until then-" Hal said cheerfully and patted Bruce on the shoulder. “- looks like you have two husbands, Bats." 

Bruce went rigid under Hal's hand. “What?" 

“We can't leave the magic copy here,” Jordan elaborated, nodding at the clone.

The copy glared at Hal, arms crossed defensively in front of him. "I have a name, Hal,” he recalled, offended.

"And why not?” Bruce asked his teammate, ignoring the clone’s protest.

He really was a perfect copy, reacting just like real Clark would. It felt almost wrong to refer to him just as a clone.

"What if there's more to the spell?" Hal suggested. “It's better he stays with you guys.” A smug grin appeared on Jordan's face, and he nudged Bruce with his elbow. "Come on, Spooky. You can't tell me you want to complain. Instead of one hunk, you get two!”

Bruce turned to him with his whole body, making the Lantern step back with hands raised in surrender.

"This is a serious matter, Jordan,” he growled, face heating up from Hal's comment.

Hal tskd. "You're no fun."  

As much as Bruce hated to admit it, Hal was right. They had no idea if separating the clone from Clark wouldn't harm him. Or make the clone go insane. They needed to be careful until Zatanna could get there and fix this.

"Fine, we'll take him home with us,” Bruce agreed.

"We will?” Clark asked, surprised.

Bruce nodded. "Hal is right." He ignored a smug “ha!" that Jordan made after this admission. “It's better not to separate you two. The spell seems harmless, but we can't be sure until Zatanna is back.”

"She's always away when needed most," Clark sighed tiredly, then turned to look at his clone with a friendly, inviting smile. “All right, come on, other me.”

The clone smiled back, following Clark to the door. "You could call me Kal," he proposed. “Other me is kinda mouthful.”

"Fine by me." Clark stopped by the door, bowing slightly and pointing at it with his hand. “After you.”

The clone - Kal - did the same. 

"No, after you.”

"I insist.”

"No, no, please, go first.”

"Oh god, two immovable, polite objects met each other,” Barry commented with a horrified expression. “We gonna be here forever.”

The others didn't look any better, watching Clark and Kal argue who should go through the door first.

"No, they're just being little shits on purpose,” Bruce informed the team.

As on cue, Clark and Kal stopped. They straightened up with impish grins on their faces. 

"Busted,” Clark chuckled, and Kal followed with the same sound.

Bruce sighed. This was going to be a long 24 hours.

The zeta tube took the three of them to the Batcave. As they stepped out, Bruce headed straight to the empty case for his suit, already taking his gauntlets on the way.

Clark began to undress too, his own case installed next to Bruce's while they were still only dating.

Kal followed. No hesitation, no moment to think what he should do, he just did everything that Clark normally did after coming back from superhero work.

Both Bruce and Clark watched him in a slight surprise, and that made Kal stop.

“Sorry," he apologized, pink dusting his cheeks. “I just…”

"You think you're real," Bruce finished for him.

He didn't think he was a clone, he felt he was a real Clark. Arthur confirming that he was made of magic probably confused and hurt him.

“I am real," he insisted, slightly panicked, slightly angry. He looked at his faint reflection in the case. “I feel real."

"That was some powerful magic,” Clark noticed. "The spell seems harmless, but it must've been strong if it transferred my whole consciousness to you.”

Kal nodded in agreement. "If Arthur didn't say which one of us is real, I don't think I would've ever known,” he admitted and sighed. “I feel like I'm imposing but at the same time, I belong here." 

A painful squeeze occurred in Bruce's chest, and the sympathy he already felt for Kal skyrocketed. 

He wasn't just a clone, he was Clark. Made of magic, but still Clark - his husband, his best friend.

Bruce looked at him, at his sad expression, and wanted to comfort him like he would Clark. Embrace him, kiss his cheek, the corner of his mouth. Brush his hair and tell him everything would be okay.

It didn't matter if it was a clone, he felt the need to do it but was afraid of Clark's reaction.

Kal was him, but at the same time, he was his own person. Showing comfort wasn't necessarily cheating, but it still had a potential to be weird. Especially if the comforted person is the perfect copy of yourself.

Bruce curled his fingers into a fist to stop himself from reaching out.

“You kinda do," Clark pointed out with a gentle smile. “I mean, you are me." 

Bruce hummed. “Until Zatanna shows up tomorrow, make yourself at home." 

Kal smiled, and Bruce felt the same pull in his chest he felt whenever Clark smiled at him. His heart sped up just slightly, and he hoped Clark wasn't listening just now.

Explaining this reaction would be a nightmare.

Hal's joke earlier was never funny, but suddenly it became even less so.

He really had two husbands now.

“I should have some spare clothes laying around," Clark offered, already moving to search for them.

“I know where they are," Kal assured him quickly, stopping him with a hand on his collarbone. “I got this." 

Clark nodded and continued to undress from his suit. When Kal returned with clothes, he started doing the same.

Bruce had to look away. Watching Clark undress was distracting enough on its own, but seeing two of him doing that?

He felt a blush creeping up his face. Focusing on taking off his own suit, Bruce ignored the two almost naked Kryptonians and their perfect bodies next to him.

Thankfully, Clark's suit was always easier to change from, so it didn't take him and Kal much time to put on regular clothes.

It should've been easier to look at them now, but Bruce had a soft spot for Clark no matter what he was wearing. Even his ugly, work suits. So when he looked at him and Kal now, both in shirts - one white, one baby blue - and two pairs of dark, comfy linen pants, Bruce wanted to walk to both and smooch them.

Clark must've expected that because he watched Bruce in earnest. But Bruce didn't want to kiss him and make Kal feel bad being left out. 

And he would feel left out, because he was Clark and looked at Bruce with the same anticipation. Waiting for their usual kiss after patrol or a mission. Knowing it was supposed to happen.

A little reassurance of theirs.

We're home, we're safe, I love you.

He disappointed both, simply walking past them towards the stairs leading out of the Cave.

Alfred waited for them in the grand living room. He watched Bruce climb from behind the grandfather clock first. Then Clark, then Kal.

He barely raised an eyebrow at the clone.

"Welcome home, sirs," he greeted Bruce and Clark, then looked at Kal. “And…" 

“Magic spell," Bruce explained vaguely. "Don't ask." 

Both Clark and Kal smiled sheepishly at Alfred. The exact same smile. At the same time. It was both endearing and creepy.

Alfred assessed them calmly.

“I won't,” he promised. "I will ask however if I should prepare three servings." 

“I wouldn't mind eating," Kal admitted shyly. 

It reminded Bruce of the first time he invited Clark to dinner at home. Despite meeting Alfred plenty of times back then, he was still nervous during an official “meet the parents" dinner.

Alfred's gaze moved from one Kryptonian to another.

“Which one is which?" 

“This is Clark, this is Kal," Bruce pointed at each.

Alfred folded his hands behind his back. “Well then. You three go wash up and I'll serve dinner." 

After a nod from Bruce, the butler turned around swiftly and walked out of the room.

Bruce looked at his… At Clark and Kal. “You heard him. Wash your hands," he told them.

“I'm not a child," Kal protested, but obediently began to leave the room, Clark right after him.

"Yet you pout like one,” Bruce pointed up with a smirk.

Kal pouted harder, Clark just grinned, delighted.

They joined Alfred in the kitchen a few minutes later, and Kal went straight for Clark's spot. No thought, he just claimed it as his. Which kind of was.

Clark stopped, perplexed for just a second, before shrugging and taking the seat opposite of Kal at the kitchen island.

Bruce slowly sat down on his, feeling more than surrounded by two Kryptonians on both his left and right. 

Alfred served them soup. First Bruce, like always, as the man of the house. Then Clark, then Kal. 

It went normal, quiet. They never talked during the first course, too hungry for chitchatting. Unless the kids were visiting, then dinner was anything but quiet or normal.

By the time second course came in, Clark and Kal became lively chatterboxes. 

Clark always talked more between the two of them. He had a lot to say about his day. Not in an annoying way, and Bruce liked the sound of his voice.

Now however it was coming from two directions, and Bruce, sensitive to sound since he was a child, quickly got overwhelmed.

Just as quickly, his husband noticed the discomfort. Both of them.

“Shoot! Sorry, honey, am I speaking too loudly?” Clark asked with worry.

"I sometimes forget how annoying it can get for you," Kal added, as if he had previous experience with it.

They both looked at him apologetically.

“I'm fine," Bruce assured, gently rubbing his left temple.

Clark was up in a flash, replacing Bruce's fingers with his mouth, kissing the hurting place.

It shouldn't have helped, but it did.

“Sorry," he said again, whispering so quietly Bruce wouldn't have heard him if Clark was just a few inches farther away.

Bruce smiled reassuringly at him. “I'm fine," he repeated, squeezing Clark's hand that held his.

Clark returned the smile and sat back down. When he and Kal started to talk again, they did so in a quieter manner.

The ache in Bruce's temple lessened over time, but didn't vanish, replaced by a gnawing realization that Kal almost comforted him too, stopping himself at the last moment.

To anyone else it could've looked as simply shifting in his seat. But Bruce knew all the tweaks and ticks Clark performed. He could write a book on those. And he knew Kal, a perfect copy, wanted to help with his husband's pain.

As the dinner progressed, Bruce kept noticing more of those behaviors.

And he reacted to them just as he would if Clark made them. Clark was making them. They both were, and Bruce was flooded with the need to brush Clark's hair that he dissolved when running his hand through it. Or wipe the crumb from the corner of Kal's mouth.

To Bruce's brain there was no difference between the two, it released the same boost of serotonin from looking at both.

It should weird him out. It did, but at the same time, he couldn't find himself to care and just… enjoyed the company of both.

Their chuckles, their smiles, their loving gazes.

Their lips.

Would kissing a perfect clone of your husband be cheating?

Bruce glanced at Alfred, sitting on a chair by a little table in the corner of the kitchen, drinking a cup of tea and reading a newspaper he didn't get to enjoy earlier.

He wasn't even looking at them, yet Bruce felt like the butler was judging him for his thoughts.

They weren't normal. Who in their right mind, upon seeing a clone of their husband, would think about kissing it?

Just because Kal looked and acted like Clark didn't justify it. He was just a magical copy that wouldn't even be there tomorrow, and his actual husband was right there. He should want to kiss him, not the clone.

Why not both? - his consciousness supplied him with an idea. 

Immediately, his mind was flooded by images and scenarios he definitely shouldn't have. 

Clark and Kal touching him. Kissing him - one on the neck, the other on the chest. He wouldn't even be able to tell which was which because Clark would lose the glasses like he almost always did for sex.

It wouldn't matter, because Bruce would moan the names of them both while one would hold him against his chest, spreading Bruce's legs wide open for the other to fuck into him. 

Bruce grabbed a glass of wine and downed it in one go. When he put the glass back on the table, a little more forcefully than intended, both Clark and Kal looked at him with the same concern. 

Alfred looked up from his newspaper as well, one eyebrow raised.

Bruce's face heated up, but he had wine as an excuse for that.

“Sorry,” he said, apologizing for disrupting dinner. "Cramp in the shoulder.”

He rolled it for emphasis, to ease the tension that wasn't there.

“Want me to massage it?" Clark asked in earnest.

Clark's touch was the last thing Bruce needed right now. And at the same time, one he wanted the most.

Once again, Kal was just a fraction of a second behind Clark with his reaction, masking it behind a seemingly natural shift in his seat. 

Bruce wondered if his husband was aware his clone was just as eager to help Bruce as he was.

And if he noticed, was that his subtle way to remind Kal of his place? That while looking and acting the same, he wasn't Bruce's husband and had no right to try to act like it? 

“It's okay," Bruce assured Clark, rolling his shoulder again. “I can feel it letting go." 

Clark wasn't the only one relieved by this information. Kal smiled at him, worry gone from his blue eyes, and Bruce couldn't stop his heart from jumping with fondness at the sight of it.

Or his gaze from staying locked to it.

“I'll prepare a guest room for Master Kal,” Alfred announced suddenly, folding the newspaper loudly and scaring Bruce out of his dazed state.

Both Kryptonians looked away from Bruce to focus on Alfred instead.

“Thank you, Alfred," Clark said in his clone’s place.

“Yes, thank you, Alfred," Kal chorused right after, smiling at the butler.

Bruce didn't say a word, wishing he had some wine left because of how dry his throat was right now.

After a nod at the three of them, Alfred left the kitchen through the side door. Clark and Kal both returned their attention back to Bruce. They both smiled at him, and Bruce was glad he was sitting, because his legs went weak.

By the time they finished dinner, Bruce got the feeling back in his legs and Alfred prepared one of the many guest bedrooms for Kal to use.

It was in an entirely different wing than where the master bedroom was located, so when retreating to their respective rooms for the night, Bruce and Clark separated from Kal on the grand staircase splitting into two directions.

“Do you even need to sleep?” Clark curiously asked Kal, the three of them standing in the midsection.

Kal chuckled, the sound tickling Bruce’s skin with goosebumps. “I guess I will find out in a moment," the clone replied, halfway turned to walk away. "See you guys in the morning.”

If he was even going to exist still in the morning. The spell that made him could wear off on its own like J’onn suggested. The thought of it happening causing an unexpected, painful clench in Bruce's chest.

"Goodnight, Kal,” Bruce told him.

"Night, sugar,” Kal replied with a soft, loving smile and turned around fully, climbing up the stairs.

Bruce, frozen where he stood, could only look at the clone walking away.

He didn't expect it. The pet name. One that Clark used frequently, along with many others. 

He didn't expect Kal to use it. To feel brave enough to do something like that in Clark's presence.

Maybe he didn't. It probably was second nature like it was to Clark. He didn't think, he just did because that's what Clark would've done when saying goodnight to Bruce. 

He just kept being Clark.

Bruce glanced at his husband, checking for his reaction. Clark had a puzzled look on his face, like he was figuring something out.

Hopefully, it wasn't anything involving ripping Kal to shreds. The clone didn't deserve it. It wasn't his fault that whatever magic made him alive, also made him act like the one he was copied after.

Surely Clark understood that.

“Come on." Bruce touched Clark's biceps and turned him around, his husband following without any resistance. "Let's go to bed too.”

Pulled out of his trance, Clark grabbed Bruce's hand with an easy smile, and they climbed the stairs together.

At first, Bruce was relieved Clark didn't comment on Kal's usage of a pet name. Not on the way to the bedroom, not inside it, where they fell into their nighttime routine like hundreds of times before.

They both took quick showers separately, checking on their civilian jobs while the other was showering. 

When they were both dressed for bed and stood side by side in front of a bathroom mirror and separate sinks, washing their teeth, Clark still didn't say a thing about Kal.

The longer the quiet went on, the worse Bruce's anxiety was getting.

He felt like he was hiding an affair from Clark and waiting for the shoe to drop any moment now. Which was ridiculous, because nothing happened, except the unguarded moment in his head.

He would've preferred if his husband was at least a little bit concerned or jealous that his doppelganger was fond of Bruce. At least that would've been an expected and reasonable reaction.

Instead - nothing.

Until Clark spat out toothpaste and finally spoke.

“I hope Zatanna can break the spell,” he admitted, looking at Bruce through the mirror. "It's like having a twin, only freakier."

Bruce hummed in reply around his toothbrush.

"How strange is it to look at a spitting image of yourself that isn't on the other side of the mirror?” he asked after rinsing his mouth.

"Eh, ain't even the strangest thing I experienced,” Clark said, waving his toothbrush around. “Not even in the top ten.”

Bruce wiped his face with a towel, watching his husband bent over the sink to clean the remains of toothpaste from around his mouth.

“What's the strangest thing you witnessed?” Bruce continued to ask, curious about Clark's list.

Clark straightened up, showing almost all of his perfect, white and freshly brushed teeth in a big grin.

“You going to sleep at a reasonable hour. Unprompted.”

Bruce huffed, throwing Clark's towel at his smiling face.

"He wants to do the same things as you but he's always one step behind you,” Bruce pointed out, leaning with his back against the counter.

"Because he keeps hesitating," Clark explained, patting his face dry. He hung away the towel and looked at Bruce. “But I saw how he wanted to comfort you at dinner. Twice.” 

Bruce went rigid. Why did he mention Kal doing the same as Clark? 

Clark, turning with his whole body to him, continued. “He isn't sure if he's allowed.” His husband stepped closer, trapping Bruce between himself and the counter, arms on both sides of him. Bruce's pulse quickened. "But you would allow him.”

Bruce closed his eyes in shame.

This was it. The confrontation he was afraid of since they arrived at the Manor. Maybe even since he first felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of Kal.

Part of him was relieved it was finally happening. He didn't have to hide it anymore, but that didn't make it any easier to face.

"Clark…" he began his confession, but a tender palm on his cheek stopped him, breath hitching.

He opened his eyes and saw Clark looking at him with understanding and love that never seemed to fade away, even when they had arguments.

“It's okay,” his husband assured, his thumb brushing Bruce's scarlet cheek. "I saw how you look at him. I hear your heartbeat when you do." 

So, he knew from the beginning. 

“He's you," Bruce justified himself, shame still swirling violently in his stomach, making him feel sick. Mostly at himself.

Clark's gentle smile didn't falter. “I know. Like I said, it's okay,” he promised again. "You're attracted to him because he's me. You want him to touch you because he's me.” 

The hand on his cheek moved lower, stopping above his racing heart.

“You thought about it, honey?” Clark purred, his touch hot like a branding rod, eyes dark and intense. 

With interest, with hunger.

Bruce licked his dry lips, unable to look away. "Yes," he admitted, and a painful sting flared up inside his chest. 

He still expected Clark to react with anger or disgust, so Bruce began to soften up the blow right away. Rationalize the whole mess. Or try to, because there had to be a reasonable explanation for this.

He would never cheat on Clark, he never wanted anyone else but him, and they made it clear at the beginning of their relationship that they were exclusive.

This… whatever it was, was just a confusion caused by a perfect clone.

“I don't know where it came from,” he said in a rush. “I love you, I don't want anyone else. I would never…”

Clark shut him up with a press of lips to Bruce's. No heat, no passion, just a calming presence.

Bruce gripped the counter for support, legs shaking.

"Bruce, it's okay," Clark assured one more time when he pulled back. “It's just a kink. You find it hot,” he chuckled with ease. His face was slightly pink with blush. “So do I.”

Bruce's lips parted in surprise. "You do?”

"Mmm,” he confirmed with a nod, pressing closer to Bruce with his body. "If it was anyone else, I would be jealous and you would be in trouble, Mr. Wayne-Kent,” he teased, leaning down and giving Bruce's ear a nibble. 

Bruce's hands flew to grip Clark's biceps, fingers curling around steel hard flesh. "I never thought I wanted something like that,” he breathed out, Clark's mouth just a bit lower now, placing kisses on Bruce's stubbled jaw.

“Neither did I.” Clark left one last kiss and straightened up, smiling again. “But if I was to ever share you with someone, it could only be with myself,” he joked, but his next words were serious. "So if you want it, I'm in."

Lust erupted in Bruce's abdomen like a supernova. 

He was offering. Clark was actually offering to invite Kal to their bed. To let him have his way with Bruce. To share Bruce with his own clone that didn't even exist in the morning.

It was wrong.

It was crazy.

It was the hottest thing Clark ever said to him.

And he said a lot.

Bruce's hold on Clark tightened.

"I want that," he admitted quietly, voice shaking. “You. Him. Both of you.”

He felt safe saying that now, admitting it out loud, shame gone. Because Clark wanted this just as much, his eyes darkening with desire.

Clark leaned closer, one hand splayed on Bruce's bare chest, the other seizing his cheek in a possessive hold.

"Greedy little slut,” he whispered against Bruce's lips.

Bruce trembles, bearing his neck for Clark's lips. "Just for you,” he swore breathlessly, pulse going wild under his husband's touch.

He hissed when gentle lips were replaced by a bite.

"It better stay that way,” Clark warned in a low growl that Bruce felt deep in his bones.

"Should we go to him?” he asked, trembling with anticipation.

He felt Clark smile against his neck. "No need." He raised his head and looked at the bathroom door. He didn't call out, he just spoke in a normal tone. The person he was speaking to, would hear him even from the other side of the globe. 

“You heard him.”

Bruce first registered the bedroom door opening, and then, over Clark's shoulder, he watched the one to the bathroom open as well, and Kal stepped in, still in Clark's borrowed clothes. 

He looked tense, unsure, despite the invitation. Despite what he no doubt just heard.

"How long was he outside the bedroom?” Bruce asked Clark.

Clark stepped to Bruce's side, wrapping an arm around his waist. “He followed after us,” he answered, amused.

Bruce was so worried about Clark getting angry he didn't even sense Kal following.

"It felt wrong to sleep alone, Bruce," Kal explained, with the same soft, vulnerable expression that Clark got whenever he didn't feel confident. “I know I'm just a clone, but my feelings towards you are real. I love you,” he confessed with desperation, looking at Bruce with the familiar devotion that Bruce married once already.

Leaning heavier into Clark's side, the arm around his waist tightening - not possessive, grounding - Bruce extended his hand towards Kal.

"Come here," he coaxed his other husband, smiling when Kal eagerly complied, barely holding back superspeed.

Just before reaching Bruce, before taking his hand, Kal hesitated. He looked at Bruce one last time for confirmation that what he was about to do was okay.

Bruce nodded once with a smile. Almost a grin because of how giddy he felt in the moment.

Returning that smile, Kal took Bruce's hand and let himself be pulled closer. The moment he did, he also let go fully, letting instincts take charge.

He pressed closer, pushing Bruce against Clark's chest. A surprised gasp left Bruce's lips as he was trapped between their broad, hard frames. Between the heat of their bodies.

He shuddered with anticipation, legs already giving out under him, but he didn't fall, because his husbands held him together.

Clark's hands were on his hips - heavy and familiar. He leaned down with a hum and began to kiss Bruce's neck just the way he liked it, sending shivers down his spine and straight between his legs.

Kal was more tentative, still so sweetly unsure if he wasn't overstepping. He ran his hands all over Bruce's chest, following the trail of scars covering it, but staying shy away from his nipples that begged for attention.

His eyes were locked on Bruce's face, searching for any hint of doubt, expecting to be rejected any second now.

“Come here," Bruce repeated his words, now breathless, and with fingers buried in Kal's dark locks, he pulled him in for a kiss.

Kal shuddered and moaned, instantly kissing back with vigor, as if it was something he wanted to do since he came into existence.

It probably was.

Bruce made his own sound in the back of his throat. 

Needy, delightful. 

His other hand wrapped around Kal's torso, feeling the ripple of the strong muscle underneath his palm as Kal breathed heavily.

When Kal's palms framed his face tenderly, holding it steady, deepening the kiss, Bruce melted, once again standing only thanks to the two powerful Kryptonians squeezing him between each other.

Sharing him.

They were both already hard, gently rocking against Bruce from both sides.

Bruce moaned shamelessly into Kal's mouth, his body growing hotter with each second, overtaken with tremors of pleasure. 

It all felt too much and not enough at the same time. Clark's mouth was hot as iron on Bruce's skin, and Kal’s tongue dominated the kiss, stealing Bruce's breath away.

Shuddering, he clung to Kal desperately while leaning back into Clark's chest, feeling how fast and hard his heart was beating.

It matched his own. It matched Kal's, thundering under Bruce's palm. They were in sync as if that's how it was always supposed to be.

And they barely even started. They had the whole night of this and most of the next day.

Until Zatanna would come and take Kal away.

Bruce decided not to think about that. He focused on the present instead. On the two men he was trapped between, desired by both equally.

Nothing else mattered right now but the three of them.

“Take me to bed," Bruce requested against Kal's lips, voice trembling with desire.

Kal's eyes darkened, and the hold Clark had on Bruce's hips tightened.

“Gladly," he felt Clark's response whispered against his neck.

Kal dipped in for another kiss, holding Bruce's face between his palms like it was something precious. “Your wish is our command," he purred in addition.

Bruce expected to walk to the bedroom, still trapped between his two, devoted husbands taking turns kissing him. 

What he didn't expect was for Clark to pick him up and throw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Let's take care of our man, hmm?” Clark asked Kal with a smirk over his shoulder and patted Bruce's ass.

Grinning, Kal followed them out of the bathroom, floating out of excitement.

Bruce got tossed onto the soft bed, right in the middle, placed there like a prize for Clark and Kal.

They watched him lay there like a prey to be devoured, completely at their mercy. The feeling of utter helplessness that he felt while being stared down at was overwhelming. He could hardly breathe with it. An exhilarating experience that had Bruce's body growing tense with involuntary fight or flight response.

But without an aid in the form of a kryptonite or red solar energy, Bruce was already completely helpless against Clark. Not to mention two of him.

There was no fighting or escaping that, there was only submission. And that's exactly what Bruce did, offering himself even more to the two of them - pliant and spread like on the altar.

He heard their breathing hitching in response, and they moved at the same time, Kal no longer hesitating, but with purpose behind his actions.

They crowded him from both sides, running their hands up his body - from the hem of his pants and up to his belly that jolted under their fingers.

His chest was next to be explored. Slowly, methodically, curve after curve, scar after scar. 

Bruce moaned when wet heat enveloped his right nipple, Clark's lips wrapping around it gently. His tongue nudged the bud playfully before he hollowed his cheeks, sucking on it.

Another moan left Bruce's mouth, and he tangled his hand in Clark's hair, pushing him closer to his chest.

Kal laid down on his side next to Bruce, wrapping his arm around his waist and mirroring Clark, taking care of Bruce's other nipple.

Bruce arched into their mouth with a strangled moan, never before having both his nipples sucked at the same time.

It was new and oh so good! And when they stared up at him with those gorgeous blue eyes, looking completely innocent while driving him crazy with their mouth, Bruce almost cum on the spot.

Kal let go first, despite Bruce's attempt to keep him at his chest. He kissed his way up to Bruce's neck, sucking on his pulse point, feeling under his tongue how blood rushed through the vein in lustful haze.

Clark soon joined him, a string of saliva connecting his mouth to Bruce's nipple for a moment before it broke when his husband reached his face.

“You good, darlin’?" he drawled, fingers skimming over Bruce's jaw with electrifying touch as he looked down on him.

"Yes,” he gasped out in response, looking back into Clark's caring eyes.

His husband hummed in approval and leaned down. “Good," he whispered, pleased, and placed a sweet kiss on Bruce's lips.

Bruce sighed into it and cupped Clark's cheek, returning the affection with tender. He protested with a quiet whine when Clark pulled away much too soon.

With a smirk, Bruce's husband placed a single finger on his jaw and turned his head around. Kal was already waiting for it, and gladly recaptured Bruce's mouth with his own.

Bruce circled both of his arms around him, pulling him closer as their tongues tangled together again.

Kal tasted just like Clark, kissed like him too. Breathtakingly. 

"He'll keep you busy while I get you ready, honey,” Clark told him, hooking his index fingers under the hem of Bruce’s pants, an embarrassingly wet patch already at the front.

Clark slid the pants down Bruce’s hips slowly, revealing his rock hard and leaking cock. The piece of clothing was tossed carelessly onto the floor of the bedroom and soon after, Bruce felt his legs being spread by a pair of big hands.

He moaned into Kal’s mouth when Clark kissed and bit the inside of his thighs, leaving red spots and teeth marks leading to the center of Bruce’s pleasure.

Grabbing Bruce by the fullness of his asscheek, Clark lifted his hips off the bed with one hand, the other keeping Bruce’s right leg spread. 

Not breaking the kiss, Kal assisted with the left one, fingers digging in the flesh of Bruce’s thigh and pulling it open to the point of ache in the joint.

Bruce jerked his head to the side with a pained groan and looked at himself, face heating up with blush because of how lewd he looked, spread open like a whore. 

Clark grinned at him from between his legs before he dipped, running a long lick with his wet tongue - from Bruce’s puckered hole, through his perineum and to his heavy balls.

Tossing his head back, Bruce let out a shameless moan, immediately followed by another when Kal took advantage of his bared throat and latched onto it - kissing, sucking, biting. Anything to force Bruce to make another broken sound.

“Clark,” Bruce gasped when his husband took one of his balls inside his mouth, toying with it with his tongue. “Kal,” the other name slipped from Bruce’s lips just as easily, praising the way Kal mouthed the column of his throat, covering the pale skin with love bites.

“We got you, sugar,” Kal whispered softly into his ear before biting it, pulling a pitiful whimper from Bruce. “Just enjoy.”

Clark hummed in agreement, releasing one ball to move onto another. 

Bruce flailed his hands, desperate to grab onto something, to anchor himself through the overwhelming pleasure he experienced at the hands of both Kryptonians. Both palms landed in the thick, soft locks of his two husbands, pulling with all his strength, knowing he would never be able to rip them out. 

“Oh god,” he panted, legs trembling in Clark and Kal’s holds, pain mixing with pleasure as they kept him open for Clark. 

His husband let go of his balls and kissed his way lower again. He reached Bruce’s hole, giving it its own kiss, and Bruce gasped, feeling his opening clenching under Clark’s lips. “Baby, please,” he begged, desperate to feel something inside. 

A tongue, a finger, a cock - anything as long as he would be filled.

For a brief second, he thought about Clark and Kal filling him up both at the same time, and Bruce’s entire body flooded with burning need for this to happen. 

“Don’t be impatient, doll,” Kal drawled, giving Bruce a scolding bite.

The entire left side of Bruce’s neck felt like it was on fire from all the bites Kal already placed there, and Bruce’s only response was to arch his head further, offering more skin to be marked. 

Kal accepted the invitation with a possessive growl, teeth on a verge of breaking the skin but never piercing.

The amount of makeup Bruce would have to use to cover it all up tomorrow before showing himself to Zatanna would be enormous but, oh so worth it! He already felt like in heaven, shared between the two men of his dreams. He didn’t even have to do anything, just take whatever they were giving him. 

Clark’s tongue finally slipped inside, and Bruce’s hips jerked helplessly in his hold, the sensation sending a spark up his spine and through his thighs.

The tongue opened him up slowly but thoroughly, petting his sensitive walls - fucking him too shallowly to really give him release, but just enough to have Bruce’s cock drip constantly over the abs of his stomach. 

At some point, Kal lopped an arm under his back and reached for Bruce’s right nipple, still sensitive from the attention Clark gave it earlier. Now Kal continued, playing with it, smiling against Bruce’s neck whenever Bruce whimpered from the stimulation. 

Sometimes his ministrations were gentle, just rolling the bud between his thumb and index finger, just making Bruce's breath hitch with his warm touch. Other times he squeezed and tugged without a warning, causing pain to flare up through the right side of his chest. 

Bruce yelped. Every time - body tensing and with it, his hole was clenching too, right around Clark's long tongue lapping inside it.

The sudden tightness was making his husband moan in delight and press his face closer, trying to reach deeper, and Kal quickly picked up on it.

He timed every painful pinch perfectly with the thrusts of Clark's tongue. Used Bruce’s nipple like a remote to his body, turning his hole so impossibly tight that every lick, every caress was twice as intense.

Bruce squirmed and arched in his husbands’ hold, moans of pleasure leaving his parted lips in waves. What wasn't enough just seconds ago was now too much, the pressure and heat both growing, churning in his lower belly. 

Release brewed with a pulsing rhythm between his thighs.

The mouth and teeth on his neck, the tongue inside him. The hands that could turn coal into diamonds holding him both securely and like something precious.

It was bringing him to orgasm fast - skin buzzing with it, toes curling, voice cracking. 

The heat pooled in his abdomen and released all at once, rushing through his body, locking it with tension as the climax hit, cum splashing onto his stomach.

Bruce moaned, convulsed, holding onto his husbands when the pleasure reached its peak. First of many, he already knew.

Kryptonian stamina. A wonder and a terrifying force both.

The orgasm faded slowly, cum already cooling down on his heated skin, body losing its tension. His nipple, burning from the previous treatment, was being soothed now by gentle, circular strokes of Kal's thumb.

With a heavy exhale, Bruce leaned into him, into his secure embrace, while Clark lowered Bruce's hips back onto the bed.

Hands splayed on the inside of his thighs slipped off at the same time, leaving behind bruises and a pleasant ache. Bruce didn't bother closing his legs when Clark's curly mop of hair still peeked from between them. 

His husband licked Bruce's spent cock clean, making it twitch with renewed interest before he moved to Bruce's stomach. 

Giving it long, sensual strokes of his tongue, Clark quickly dealt with the mess, humming with delight at the taste. The entire time he watched Bruce's face over the rim of his fogged glasses.

Lust stirred in Bruce's belly from that one, hungry look.

Sitting up on the heels of his feet, Clark reached for the glasses and took them off, making his face instantly unrecognizable from Kal again. Once they get naked, there would be no way to tell, and Bruce doubted he would be able to keep track of which was which.

“I won't be able to tell you apart," Bruce pointed it out to his husband.

Clark glanced at Kal, then at his glasses, dangling from his hand by the earpiece. He tossed them away with a smirk.

"I have an idea,” he said, more to Kal than to Bruce, who watched his husband move and straddle his hips to be closer to the other Kryptonian.

Kal didn't seem surprised when Clark suddenly grabbed a fistful of his hair and tilted his head to the side.

Clark's eyes glowed red and a streak of heat vision hit the side of Kal's head, vaporizing the hair there and giving him a one-sided buzz cut.

Letting go of his clone's hair, Clark admired his work before looking at Bruce with a grin.

“Better?” he asked.

Bruce smiled back at both. "Better,” he said, and pulled Clark into a short kiss, shivering from the hint of the salty taste of his own cum still lingering on Clark's tongue.

He felt Clark slip a hand under a pillow where the lube was. His husband took it out and pulled back, their lips parting with a shared, blissful sigh.

“Do you wanna do the honor?" Clark asked Kal, already tossing him the bottle.

Kal caught it effortlessly, grinning with excitement. “With pleasure," he purred, eyes locked on Bruce when he said that.

It sent a thrill of anticipation through Bruce's body.

“Would you like that, Brucie?" Clark questioned, letting his hands wander over Bruce's chest. “See if he's really just like me? If his cock feels just as nice?" 

Clark leaned down, his lips just inches from Bruce's ear where the echo of his pounding heart resided. Making it almost impossible to hear his husband's husky voice whispering filth into it. 

“If he will fuck your ass just the way you like it?" 

Bruce let out a groan, heat of lust slipping back into his veins, spreading through his body.

“Please,” he begged Kal directly, voice trembling with need. "I want that. Please, Kal, fuck me." 

Kal's eyes darkened with his own desire. He surged down, claiming Bruce's lips in a heated, bruising kiss that had them both moan.

“I love when you beg me like that," Kal growled against Bruce's mouth. 

Giving it one more peck and a playful bite, Kal pulled away, he and Clark already in motion to take their new positions.

“Hey,” Clark said softly, fingers curling around Kal's biceps, stopping him from taking a place between Bruce's legs.

Bruce tensed, his two husbands staring at each other over him. He worried Clark changed his mind. That his possessiveness prevented him from sharing Bruce, even if just with his clone.

But Clark's expression was relaxed, playful even, and Kal looked back at him curiously, without worry. They looked like they communicated through minds alone.

Without sharing a single word, they understood each other perfectly. 

Stunned, Bruce watched how Clark reached out with his hand to Kal. How Kal leaned closer, and Clark's hand rested on his nape.

They met in the middle, right in Bruce's line of vision. Their mouths connected without a hint of hesitation, and they began to kiss just as confidently, not pausing even at Bruce's surprised gasp.

Bruce barely found his own voice to speak.

“What are you doing?" he asked, astonished by the view in front of him.

Clark and Kal parted with identical smirks.

“You don't like it?" Clark asked back. Bruce was entranced by the way his thumb stroked up and down Kal's neck. “Don't like me kissing myself? Touching the other me?" 

Kal's hands came to rest on Clark's chest, caressing it, touching his nipples. Clark's body arched under his touch with a pleasant groan.

Bruce said no word, he just kept staring, trapped in a state of complete shock and burning arousal.

Both his husbands noticed.

“Don't be shy, we can see you do," Kal chuckled, glancing down at Bruce's cock, standing up against his stomach again, the pearly drop of precum forming at the slit.

Clark followed Kal's gaze.

“Got you hard as a rock just seeing us kiss, huh?" he mocked, and Bruce's face got inflamed by shame.

They both chuckled at his blush.

“Come on, Clark,” Kal encouraged, tenderly framing Clark's face with his hands. "Let's put on a little show for him." 

And so they kissed again. With heat, with lust. Teeth biting, hands roaming the hard muscles, undressing each other slowly, freeing their erections from the containment of their clothes.

Their mouths made wet and filthy sounds, joined by muffled groans and moans as their tongues tangled and battled almost in the open. Just so Bruce could witness every second of that erotic display.

They put on one hell of a show. One that had Bruce gaping in wonder and pure ecstasy, gaze jumping, unable to focus on just one detail.

Kal scratching Clark's chest. Clark tugging Kal's hair and baring his neck for his mouth that bit and sucked.

And because they were both Kryptonians, both with the same powers, they were actually leaving marks. 

There were red streaks where Kal's nails raked down the golden skin. Teeth marks where Clark bit with enough strength that would've crushed Bruce's neck and killed him.

Bruises and injuries on Clark usually didn't mean anything good. But in this case, Bruce ogled them with ravenous, memorizing them.

He reached for his cock with his hand and started touching himself while watching his husbands make out. 

It wasn't just for him. They were both into it, heat and lust behind every move of their lips, every touch of their hands enjoyed.

Bruce never saw anything hotter in his life than this, seeing his own husband kissing himself. Sucking on his own tongue with a lewd moan, craving more.

Something like that should've made Bruce jealous, but he only felt lucky that he could witness a sight like this.

It was enough to make him cum. Spill all over his hand embarrassingly quickly. His length already throbbed in his grasp, precum gathering at the tip. Bruce scooped it with his thumb, spreading it for smoother movement.

He jerked himself fast, ignoring the pain from not enough lube he didn't dare to search for. He was too desperate to reach another climax of the rapidly growing pleasure.

And that's when his husbands decided to stop, pulling away, a trail of spit still connecting their mouth a second longer before it broke as they moved further apart.

Bruce swallowed down a groan of disappointment, the hand on his cock slowing down but not stilling. He kept stroking himself as Clark and Kal came down from the high of their make out session, their own erections hard and heavy between their legs.

“Damn, I'm a good kisser," Clark joked, making himself and Kal chuckle.

"And apparently, good performer too,” Kal added, turning to Bruce with a dangerous glint in his eye. "Did we say you could touch yourself, baby?”

Bruce froze, hand curled around his length but not moving anymore. He slowly let go, even though he wanted nothing more but to keep going.

"No,” he replied, placing both of his hands on the sides of his head - open, submissive.

"I think we can forgive it,” Clark decided, running a single finger up Bruce's cock.

The touch was gentle, featherlight, yet Bruce's hips jerked under it, and a whimper escaped his tightly pressed lips.

“Yeah, he clearly didn't expect what we did," Kal agreed, grabbing the abandoned lube and moving with it between Bruce's legs.

Clark shifted as well, sliding behind Bruce. He manhandled him as if he were just a doll and put him in his lap. 

Bruce obediently leaned into the muscular chest behind him when Clark pressed a hand to his sternum. He made Bruce lay against him, their bodies flush together, Clark's erection digging into his backside.

Sliding his hands down Bruce's sides, Clark took a hold of his wrists, fingers locking around them like shackles, pinning them to the bed.

He felt like on an altar. Presented for Kal's lustful gaze. His hands. His cock.

“So you're not tempted to touch yourself again," Clark explained his actions, licking the shell of Bruce's ear. “You'll cum just from Kal fucking you, are we clear, honey?" 

Bruce swallowed, hole clenching on nothing. His eyes drifted to the massive length between Kal's legs, and his mouth watered. 

"Yes, sir,” he replied, breathless just from the silent threat behind his husband's words.

Clark smiled against his temple. "Good boy,” he purred, the praise washing over Bruce with a shiver.

The popping sound of the lube bottle being opened rang like a gunshot in the quiet bedroom. Bruce watched with a pounding heart how Kal squeezed the clear liquid onto his hand, spreading it over his fingers and warming it up.

“Open your legs for me, love," he requested, tossing the bottle to the side.

Bruce obeyed without hesitation, legs falling open, displaying his empty hole to Kal. Clark rimming him earlier didn't satisfy the aching need to be filled, only made him want more.

And Kal was about to give it.

His pupils dilated at the sight Bruce presented him, swallowing the blue of his irises. He shifted closer, and Bruce could feel the heat of his body without direct contact.

Kal was burning with desire coursing through his veins. He put the dry hand on Bruce's thigh, making his breath hitch, muscles trembling under the warm fingers.

The other hand reached to his hole, and Bruce jerked in Clark's hold, a hiss slipping from between his teeth when the cold finger rubbed his entrance, circling it teasingly.

Bruce's hips kept twitching, trying to avoid the uncomfortable sensation.

“Easy," Clark whispered into his ear.

“It'll get warm soon enough," Kal promised, slipping in the tip of his index finger.

Bruce's mouth felt open with a quiet moan, Kal's finger quickly warming up in contact with his smooth walls.

The hips that tried to escape just seconds ago, now tried to thrust forward, swallow the finger deeper, but Bruce's movement was limited. He could get only what Kal would give him.

And Kal wasn't in a hurry.

He thrusted his finger in and out slowly, stroking inside of Bruce's hole like he was trying to memorize it. Its walls clenched around the digit, desperate to keep it inside. But no matter how much Bruce tried, it kept slipping away, leaving him empty for a long, painful second, before filling him up again.

Kal watched his desperation with delight.

“I can see your hands twitching," he chuckled.

Bruce looked down at his own hand, locked in Clark's grasp. He tugged at them, testing the hold, and wasn't surprised when it didn't budge.

Clark smiled against his neck where he showered it with kisses, following the trail of bites Kal left earlier when the two Kryptonians were in similar positions.

"You want to touch yourself, ain't you?” Kal asked mockingly, moving his gaze to Bruce's cock, leaking all over his stomach again. "You can cum, but I advise from doing it too early,” his husband warned.

He pushed his fingers up to the knuckle and curled it, pressing against Bruce's prostate.

A spark of pleasure so violent rushed up Bruce's spine that his body went taut, arching above Clark's muscled frame. 

Kal's hand on his thigh seized it and dragged Bruce's body back down, making him shout when he pulled him right into his finger, nudging the prostate again.

“Because," his husband continued, leaning closer over Bruce, his breath tickling Bruce's lips. “The moment you cum, is the moment I fuck you," he said, his heated words making Bruce's cock throb and his hole clench. "I want to feel your pretty hole flutter when I sink into it.”

Bruce groaned, a sound interrupted halfway when Kal kissed him, his finger thrusting with that painfully slow pace again.

The next sound Bruce made was muffled by the kiss he eagerly returned. Kal swallowed each and every moan, claiming his mouth ravenously.

Clark was gentler, his lips featherlight on the skin of Bruce's neck. As if soothing the damage Kal did to it earlier, still burning with the heat of pain his teeth inflicted.

The fingers curled around Bruce's wrist loosened, pressing gently to the veins there that pulsed with Bruce's rapid heartbeat.

The heat, the combined scents of his two husbands clouded Bruce's mind, putting him in a euphoric daze he never felt before.

When having sex with Clark, it was always either passionate or gentle. Sometimes something in between, switching from one to the other.

Now it was both at the same time and it was deliciously overwhelming. His mind didn't know what to focus on, which sensation to follow, and Bruce was never so happy to be this confused.

His body trembled with pleasure, lost in it completely. He wanted to use the opportunity and free his hand, to wrap his arms around Kal. Hold him. Worship his perfect body.

Clark's hold tightened instantly. Bruce whined in disappointment and Kal pulled away, their kiss coming to an end.

“What's the matter, sugar?" he asked, circling Bruce's hole with another finger. 

“Want to hold you," Bruce confessed, turning his head to Clark. “Please, baby, let me hold him," he begged.

Clark chuckled, placing a kiss on the corner of Bruce's parted lips. “Do you promise not to touch yourself?” he asked.

Bruce nodded, small moans and gasp leaving his mouth, created by the sensation of Kal's second finger sliding next to the first one.

He filled Bruce with them to the knuckles, and Bruce moaned louder, hips bucking.

Clark nuzzled Bruce's stubbled cheek with his nose. "Say it or it doesn't count,” he reminded sternly.

"I won't touch myself,” he promised and turned his face back to Kal. “I'll be good."

His husband shared a look and nodded at each other.

Clark released his right wrist, trapping Bruce's waist with his arm instead, its heavy weight bringing warm sensation to Bruce's chest.

The moment Bruce's hand was free, he sank his fingers into Kal's hair and pulled him down to another kiss, moaning eagerly when Kal's tongue slipped inside his mouth.

Bruce shivered, once again lost in the feeling of his husbands' mouth on him. 

They switched their approach this time. Kal's tongue was gentle and sensual, stroking Bruce's slowly, tenderly. Clark was more aggressive, biting already sore spots and exploding them in pain again.

Bruce's whimpers got lost in his and Kal's kiss, every burn of pain immediately countered by the breathtaking ecstasy of their tongue rubbing together in Bruce's mouth.

By the fullness of Kal's fingers moving inside him, stretching him, preparing him for Kal's cock. For Clark's too.

Bruce wasn't leaving this bed until he would have them both in him. Maybe even at once.

The thought made him moan and twist, Clark's arm wrapping tighter around him, pulling Bruce closer into his body.

Kal tilted his head and kissed him deeper, stealing Bruce's breath while he didn't need his own. 

Bruce inhaled through his nose, surrendering himself to his husbands as they took him apart between each other.

Third finger joined the two others, and Bruce spread his legs further, showing his eagerness for more.

Kal pumped them in and out just as slowly as previously. Taking his time, driving Bruce crazy, lighting his every nerve of fire with just simple strokes.

Bruce's cock was throbbing painfully, aching to be touched, but Bruce fought the temptation, digging his nails in Kal's back to keep his hand busy.

He wanted to be good for them.

A whine escaped his swollen lips when Kal broke their kiss. Clark didn't pause with them, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin as if he wanted to eat Bruce's throat out.

“Want to get me ready, sweetheart?" Kal asked with a purr that traveled straight to Bruce's erection, making it twitch.

Pulling away, Kal reached for the discarded lube. "Show me your hand,” he ordered, and Bruce obeyed, presenting his hand palm up.

Kal squeezed a generous amount of lube onto it.

"Now touch him,” Clark said unexpectedly, right into Bruce's ear.

Kal shifted closer for better access.

With a shiver, Bruce reached for Kal's length, slick fingers wrapping around the thick shaft. Kal was just as big as Clark, every vein, every ridge so familiar under Bruce's touch as he ran his hand up and down.

His rhythm was messy, uneven. Bruce's hand was shaking because of tremors running through his body. Caused by Clark's mouth sucking on his pulse point. By the fingers still stretching him.

Preparing him for the massive cock he stroked, coating it in enough lube to not hurt once it would slide in. 

He couldn't wait for it to fill him. He watched it with hunger, with impatience - hole spasming and heat pooling low in his abdomen.

Kal noticed the look in Bruce's eyes and smiled.

“You're getting close, ain't you?" he asked, pressing his fingertips into Bruce's prostate.

Bruce's hips bucked with a gasp and the hand on Kal's cock stilled, his grasp slipping. Clark caught his wrist immediately, locking it in his hold again.

Kal kept pushing that bundle of nerves, sending constant sparks of pleasure through Bruce's body. Tears gathered in his eyes, the sensation both pleasurable and painful, and it only fueled the fire inside him.

"Yes,” he croaked, gasping for every breath of air. He closed his eyes shut, body squirming in Clark's unbreakable hold. Pushing back into him to escape Kal's fingers thrusting in and out without mercy.

But there was nowhere to go. The squelching sound of lube blended with Bruce's shouts of overwhelming pleasure.

The pressure was building, fast, with every jab to his prostate. Kal gave him no time for break, no time to breathe, just pushing Bruce towards the edge.

And he watched it happening. The satisfaction on his face, the intensity of desire in his eyes were almost terrifying. And just the right type of push Bruce needed to stumble into climax.

He cum with Kal's name on his lips while arching in Clark's grip, eyes rolling back into his skull. Every muscle in his body tensed as the orgasm overwhelmed him.

The heat and tremors still ran through him. He wasn't even allowed to savor them when Kal pulled his fingers out from Bruce's clenching hole.

The gnawing emptiness they left behind lasted for just a second before it was fulfilled again, Kal's cock ramming into him fast and hard, all the way in in one go.

Bruce screamed, feeling almost like he was cumming again, pain and ecstasy mixing in a delicious swirl.

His body jerked from the violent shove, and Clark wrapped both arms around his middle and torso, holding him still as Kal set up the pace. 

No build up, he just fucked Bruce through his orgasm, thrusting fast and hard, his hands holding Bruce open.

He grunted in pleasure when Bruce's hole kept spasming and tightening around him.

“Rao, you're perfect," he sighed, ramming his cock over and over like a desperate man. "Always so tight for me.”

Bruce moaned, leaning back into Clark's chest. Pushed into it. Kal's thrusts were rocking his body, making it rub into Clark's erection trapped under him.

Clark rutted against him in return, panting like a dog into Bruce’s ear.

“How does it feel?” he asked suddenly, his voice heavy with lust. “Does it feel like when I fuck you?”

Bruce closed his eyes, head thrown back in ecstasy, taking in every shove of Kal’s cock into his tight hole.

Its curved girth and fat head stretched him in a way he came to know well over the years of dating and being married to Clark.

Every popped vein was exactly where it was supposed to be, stroking Bruce's smooth, trembling walls with every thrust.

Bruce's eyes fluttered open and he looked at Kal, smirking down at him, brows furrowed with focus.

If it wasn’t for the buzz cut differentiating him from Clark, Bruce wouldn’t be able to tell who was fucking him now. 

“Yes," he moaned out a reply and lifted his hips, angling them to feel that massive cock just a little bit deeper. 

Even when it was already pounding into him without mercy, Bruce still couldn't get enough of the stretch and that delicious fullness that had him moan like a whore.

Kal adjusted his grip on Bruce's thighs and in one smooth movement, folded him practically in half, driving his cock deeper just like Bruce craved.

The head hit Bruce's prostate dead on, ripping a strangled cry from his throat. And then another. And another, as Kal set a rhythm against the sensitive bundle of nerves, 

He hit it over and over, sending jolts of pleasure through Bruce's body. 

Bruce choked on his own moans. He gasped for air, every thrust punching the air out of his lungs. 

He clawed desperately at Clark's arms, trapping Bruce to his chest, stopping his body from being pushed forward like a ragdoll that Bruce basically became. 

His legs flailed uselessly in the air with every snap of Kal's hips against his. The slap of their bodies meeting each second thundered in the bedroom. So loud Bruce feared Alfred could hear it all the way from his room.

“You're taking Kal so well, baby," Clark husked into his ear. 

Holding Bruce with one hand, he let the other roam Bruce's body, not planning on being passive while Kal had all the fun. 

He pinched and pulled Bruce's nipples, adding to already overwhelming pleasure and making Bruce squirm in his grasp.

When he moved his hand lower, placing it above Bruce's belly, Clark's cock twitched with arousal when he felt Kal's own erection bulging the stomach.

"He's so deep inside you, Bruce,” he marveled, his voice vibrating in every cell of Bruce's body. "You feel it?”

"God yes,” he moaned back, watching through Clark's fingers how Kal stretched the skin of his belly.

Bruce's hole clenched and heat pooled in his abdomen from the sight alone. 

Clark pressed his hand down against the length, and Kal moaned, head thrown back. He returned his gaze to Bruce quickly, eyes flashing white rapidly as he used his x-ray vision. Watching himself fuck into Bruce.

He moaned again. "If only you could see how well you take me, Bruce,” he said, giving a particularly strong thrust into Bruce's ass. "You wrap around me so perfectly.”

"Like you were made for us,” Clark added, sliding his palm back up. He placed it on Bruce's bruised neck and squeezed, cutting the air off.

Bruce choked, a powerful tremble shaking his body. His cock throbbed with the new wave of arousal, bobbing up and down to the rhythm of Kal's hips.

"He was made for us,” Kal insisted, his own words exciting him to the point he pounded into Bruce with more vigor. Bruce's vision swam from the lack of air as he looked into Kal's possessive gaze. 

"Made to be our little slut,” Clark purred, losing his grip on Bruce's neck.

Bruce's desperate gulp for air was interrupted by his own broken cry when Kal sheathed the entirety of his length in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt.

He didn't withdraw. He grinded, the head of his cock pushing and rubbing Bruce's prostate.

Bruce's body tried to coil. Escape the overstimulation, but his attempts were fruitless when immobilized between two powerful Kryptonians who could snap him in a second. 

"Ain't that right, Brucie?" Clark asked with a chuckle. “You just can’t get enough of my cock because you were made to take it,” he drawled with satisfaction. "You're so hungry for it you started to drool the moment Kal showed up." 

Shame settled heavily in Bruce's stomach at Clark's words. Because they were true, and he couldn't even deny them. 

Clark's hand began to squeeze around his neck again, cutting off the pathetic whimpers Bruce was making because of Kal rutting into him.

The air could still pass through, but barely, filling Bruce with dread and liquid fear, burning in his lower belly like a molten lava.

“You want us to fuck you at the same time, don't you?" Clark asked, biting the shell of Bruce's ear. "But you were too ashamed to ask." 

“He always loved to deny himself,” Kal noticed, rolling his hips in small circles, drilling his cock into Bruce's prostate without a break. "Good thing you took over.”

"I couldn't deny my beautiful Prince the pleasure of being full of two cocks,” Clark said, losing his grip once more. Bruce swallowed the air greedily, shaking with the impending orgasm and Kal's torturous pleasure. "Would you like that, honey? Would you let us fuck you together?”

Bruce didn't hesitate.

"Please,” he croaked, looking desperately at Kal. "Please, fuck me. Both of you. I need it.”

He needed to know how it would feel. He dreamed of nothing else now but to have his husbands claim him at the same time.

A gleeful smile slowly formed on Kal's face. "Anything for you, baby,” he responded, withdrawing slowly.

The lazy drag of his cock caused Bruce's jaw to go slack with a wanton moan.

Kal pulled almost all the way out before pushing back in so hard Bruce saw stars, and the scream he produced sounded almost animalistic.

His screams and squeals didn't stop as Kal rammed into him, controlling his strength just enough to not shatter Bruce's bones.

Bruce thrashed in Clark's grip, lost in the sensation of Kal's length fucking him fast and hard. In the pleasure of it. His prostate was being hit every single time, making him screech helplessly.

His body wasn't his anymore, it was theirs, submitted to the pleasure they were generously giving him. 

He took it all - shamelessly, greedily, letting ecstasy consume him till he fell apart in their arms again.

The cry that escaped him as he cum cracked, trembled just like the rest of him. The pleasure hit its peak and Bruce tensed, clenching on the cock still moving inside him while his own spilled all over his stomach, chest and Clark's arm.

The increased tightness didn't slow down Kal's movement. It speeded it up. His husband grabbed his shaking thighs more firmly and started pounding him with inhuman speed, taking advantage of Bruce's tightening hole.

Bruce cried out again, jerking in Clark's embrace while Kal chased his own release.

“Goddamn," he panted, snapping his hips fast but without any clear rhythm. “Fuck, you always get so tight when you cum. Never gets old." 

“Never had a tighter hole," Clark grunted behind him, rubbing his cock against Bruce's back, his movement just as desperate as Kal's.

Bruce laid there between them, whimpering, trapped in the endless loop of pleasure he couldn't escape while his husband sought their own.

Clark reached his first, moaning into Bruce's ear and holding him just a bit tighter as his hot cum splashed between them.

Kal followed shortly, stilling deep inside Bruce and pumping him full of his seed till it squirted from around his cock.

"Fuck,” he sighed, slowly pulling out from Bruce, his cum following after, trailing down Bruce's thighs Kal gently lowered back down.

Bruce let out a pained groan as his body slowly uncoiled from the folded position Kal held him in.

Every muscle burned with ache, but the pain felt distant when pleasure still coursed through his veins, and tender hands caressed the strained flesh.

"So good, sweetheart,” Clark sighed into his ear, stroking his sides lovingly. "You did so good.”

"You deserve a reward,” Kal added, doing the same to Bruce's thighs. Bruce looked up at him - panting, dazed. Kal smiled down at him. “Are you ready to take us both?" 

Bruce trembled with anticipation, the reaction that made Kal's smile grew. 

“Yes," he answered, voice barely working after all the cries he made earlier. “Water?" 

Kal's hungry gaze softened. “Of course, sugar," he said. Leaning down, he placed a sweet kiss on Bruce's dried lips. “Stay with Clark while I fetch you something to drink." 

Bruce nodded, relaxing into Clark's embrace, sinking into it while Kal stood up from bed and headed to the bathroom. 

He couldn't help but watch his husband’s cock, still fully hard, bobbing as he walked. Bruce's dry mouth watered a little.

He got distracted by Clark pressing his lips to his temple. "Good boy,” he praised. "You don't always ask for a break, so I'm glad you did now.”

Bruce didn't answer, his throat feeling like it was full of needles. But he squeezed Clark's palm, letting him know he's grateful.

"He knows what awaits him,” Kal chuckled, returning with a glass of water. He sat down on the edge of the bed and helped Bruce drink.

Clark kept holding him, reminding him to drink slowly to not get himself sick.

The cool water slowly soothed the sore and dry throat, and Bruce felt coming back to himself.

Kal put away half emptied glass onto the bedside table and climbed back into bed, crawling over Bruce's and Clark's body. 

He claimed Bruce's lips again, humming into a kiss that Bruce returned weakly. Kal slipped a tongue inside his mouth, exploring it with lazy strokes till Bruce's lungs began to ache from the lack of air.

Kal didn't have such a problem. Not even slightly out of breath, he kissed Clark next, the two of them making out right next to Bruce's ear.

He heard every blissful sigh, every pleased moan and wet caress of their tongue.

Bruce's breath got heavier again, but for an entirely different reason. The blood in his body grew hotter, pooling in his groin, his cock giving a weak little twitch of interest.

It shouldn't be this arousing. But it was and he didn't even feel ashamed of himself for finding it hot.

His husbands separated with blissful sighs, licking their lips in the exact same manner, at the exact same time.

They both looked at Bruce, aware of the effect their kissing had on him, and smiled.

“Maybe next time we can magically clone you," Clark suggested, running his palm up and down Kal's chest. “I would love to see you making out with yourself, Bruce." 

The idea flashed in front of Bruce's eyes, and he shivered, the reaction making his husbands grin.

“I think he likes that," Kal chuckled, grabbing a lube and returning between Bruce's open legs with it.

Clark let out a little laugh as well. "Of course he does,” he said, tilting Bruce's face towards himself and placing a loving kiss on his lips. “What do you say, baby? Would you make out with yourself for us?” he purred, his hand smearing the mess of cum on Bruce's stomach.

Bruce's trembling breath washed over Clark's handsome face. “Anything for you," he replied, aching for another kiss his husband granted him generously.

"How did I get so lucky?” Clark pondered out loud, his fingers tenderly brushing Bruce's stubbled cheek.

Bruce leaned into the touch with a sigh, body going limp in content.

"How do you want to do this?” Kal asked Clark, tossing the bottle of lube from one hand into another.

"We can stay like this,” Clark responded, not taking his admiring eyes from Bruce's face. "I know you're comfortable just laying there, sweetheart, but lift your hips for me?" 

With a little effort, Bruce placed his feet on the bed and raised his hips like Clark's requested. His legs were shaking, but he managed to hold himself in the air long enough for Clark's cock to enter him.

Bruce only gasped, the slide smooth and with no resistance. His hole opened itself for the intrusion, Kal's cum acting as lube.

Clark moaned, loudly, his arms tightening around Bruce as he buried himself deeper inch by inch.

“Damn," he grunted, rolling his hips to ensure he was as deep as possible in this position. "I love getting inside you when you're so wet and loose," he admitted, voice gravely with desire. “Makes your ass feel like a pussy." 

His words made Bruce squeeze around him, heat spreading through his chest and up to his face, casting it in blush.

Clark rutted into the increased tightness, groaning in pleasure again. “And what a good pussy it is," he hummed in marvel, and Bruce trembled from the lust in his voice.

He shuddered again when Kal pressed the first lubed finger to his stretched rim. His husband circled it gently, spreading the slick and mixing it with his own cum that leaked out of Bruce's hole when Clark penetrated him.

Bruce whimpered, his sensitive hole fluttering around Clark's girth.

“Easy,” Kal shushed him and slowly gave a little push.

The very tip of his finger made its way in, sliding next to Clark's cock and stretching Bruce's rim even further.

Bruce took a deep, shaky breath, forcing his body to stay relaxed and not make it harder.

He was rewarded for his efforts by Clark's palm wrapping around his cock, slowly returning to the erect state.

"There you go, good boy,” Kal cooed, pressing his finger deeper. “You're doing good." 

Bruce's breathing sped up, both from the motion of Clark's hand on his length and Kal pumping his finger in and out.

It already felt so achingly tight, and it was only one finger. Bruce was used to Clark's enormous size, something Kryptonians were apparently known for, but fitting two cocks like that seemed impossible.

But Bruce knew he was in safe hands, and he wanted to at least try. To fulfill this fantasy of his while he still could.

So he stayed relaxed as best as he could, controlling his breathing like he was taught, and enjoyed the stretch.

He was moaning softly as Kal prepared him thoroughly, only with one finger at first, then two.

Bruce bit into his lower lip when the second one slipped in, the pain flaring up briefly before it was replaced by the delicious fullness.

Kal scissored his fingers, stretching Bruce's rim impossibly wide with the motion, letting it adjust to the intrusion.

Beneath Bruce, Clark groaned as Kal's fingers stroked his cock along with the walls of Bruce's hole. His hips were giving desperate little thrusts. No rhythm or coordination, just pure want. 

The head of his cock brushed against Bruce's prostate every now and then, making Bruce moan and squirm.

The sounds of pleasure flowing out of his mouth got interrupted by a surprised gasp when Kal squeezed more lube onto his hole and base of Clark's erection, spreading the slick around.

It was cold, causing Bruce to tremble, but it quickly warmed from the contact with their heated bodies.

Kal added in the third finger, pushing it in with another two, and Bruce's mouth dropped open with another moan. The pain and pleasure kept mixing in a perfect way.

He felt so full, overwhelmingly. Heat pulsed stronger in his abdomen every time Kal's fingers filled him completely alongside Clark's thick cock.

Every push caused the mess of lube and cum squirt out of his hole and drip down his ass, sending burning shivers through his body.

“Fuck, you're tight like that," Clark grunted, grinding into Bruce's ass. "You gonna feel like a vice when we're both inside you.”

Bruce couldn't even imagine it. He already felt so stretched he could tear, but his body kept pushing the limits further and further just to get more of his husbands.

He wanted to beg them to get on with it. To stuff him full of their cock and ruin him for anyone else.

Again.

He knew they wouldn't budge. They wouldn't hurt him.

He still begged because that was all he could do.

“Please," he whined and grabbed Clark's arms in a tight grip, body arching. “Please, more. I can take it." 

Clark chuckled. "We know you can,” he agreed, playing with the head of Bruce's cock. He ran his thumb through the slit at the top, pulling a pitiful moan out of Bruce's throat. "You were made to be fucked.”

Kal smirked, watching down at Bruce's debauched face. "A cock and three fingers and you still don't have enough,” he commented, spreading all of his three fingers at once.

Bruce made a strangled sound when the ache lit up his nerves on fire. It burned so good, pain shooting up his spine like a lightning.

“Never," he choked out, followed by a moan when Clark rutted into his prostate.

“I wish you could see yourself right now," Kal admitted, pulling at Bruce's rim further.

It opened around Clark's length that moved with squelching sounds though the wet mess inside.

Bruce trembled. From pain, from pleasure. Aware of his husband's eyes admiring his stretched-out hole. "You're so full, baby,” he purred, all but drooling at the sight in front of him.

Bruce felt exposed. Not like a person but as an object to ogle, and it only fueled his already burning arousal.

“We're switching for the second round," Clark told Kal, grunting with each thrust, and Bruce felt a spark of excitement igniting at the prospect of this not being the only time thing. At least tonight. "I need to see it with my own eyes.”

“His hole keeps trying to close," Kal described, eyes completely black with lust. “Shit, Clark, it's so hungry for more."

“Yes!” Bruce whimpered, trying to clench on Clark’s cock and Kal’s fingers that held him gaping open. “Please, more,” he begged again.

Kal’s eyes lightened up with a mischievous glint. “More? You want me to fit my entire fist in your greedy cunt, doll?” he questioned, letting Bruce’s hole close itself back around the cock and fingers inside it, before fitting the fourth one in. “Jerk Clark off from inside of you?”

He wrapped his fingers around Clark’s length as best as he could and did just that - slowly stroking the cock buried inside Bruce’s body. His knuckles pressed against the rim with every move, just on the verge of pushing in.

Bruce’s eyes rolled into the back of his skull and his body went tense with the sudden orgasm. He released a shrilling cry, cock jerking weakly in Clark’s grasp, barely any cum leaving it.

He almost blacked out from the intensity of it, his body coming out of its tense coil completely limp and shaking like in fever. Not enough oxygen filled his lungs, causing his chest to raise and fall heavily, air coming out with irregular gasps.

Clark continued to stroke his spent cock, not stopping even when Bruce began to whimper and wiggle to escape the overstimulation burning his every nerve ending.

“I think he liked that idea,” Clark noticed with amusement, pushing one last drop of cum from Bruce’s cock before finally letting go. 

He scooped the fresh seed from Bruce’s stomach and brought it to his parted lips, feeding it to him. Bruce closed his mouth around the digit without prompting, sucking on it and his own cum, eyes closing blissfully. 

“So did I,” Clark admitted in addition, giving Bruce’s ass a short thrust and sending another uncomfortable jolt of arousal through him when he brushed Burce’s prostate. “Almost cum when you stroked me like that,” he told Kal, who slowly slipped his fingers free from Bruce’s abused hole.

Bruce moaned at the loss, hole clenching in a useless attempt to stop the withdrawal.

“We could do just that next time,” Kal suggested, coating his erect cock with more lube.

Next time.

As if it wasn't just a one-time situation caused by a magic spell. As if Kal was planning to stay and, together with Clark, keep spoiling Bruce both in and out of bed.

Bruce watched those elegant fingers slowly stroke the swollen flesh and couldn’t stop a shiver of excitement from shaking him to the core.

It was about to happen. He was going to be fucked by two cocks at once. By his two husbands.

He spread his legs wider without even thinking about it, and his hole gave another hungry clench to show its desperation.

“Do you want some more water before we start?” Clark asked, removing his fingers from Bruce's mouth so he could answer.

He had to lick his lips before doing so. “No,” he responded hoarsely, a new wave of arousal pooling in his abdomen already. “I need you now, please.”

They both chuckled at his desperation.

“Such a greedy slut," Kal hummed and slipped two of his fingers back inside Bruce.

Hooking them, he spread Bruce's hole, making an opening for his cock.

Bruce's breathing quickened. From excitement and a bit of fear, both mixing in his lower belly.

Clark ran his palms up and down his sides soothingly.

"Relax,” he instructed, letting his palm rest just above where his cock bulged Bruce's stomach. “You gonna be so full in a moment, but you need to stay nice and lose so it doesn't hurt." 

Kal shifted closer, the fat head of his cock resting against the trembling hole of Bruce's ass. 

“Can you do that for us, honey?" he asked, teasing the sensitive rim with the tip.

Bruce nodded, not trusting his dry throat to produce words. 

He wanted it. He wanted it so badly it hurt.

"Good,” Clark whispered into his ear. "Just let us in and we'll make you feel so good,” he promised, rubbing the outline of his erection.

He slipped his other hand into Bruce's, who immediately squeezed it tightly. 

Bruce made no sound when Kal finally pushed in. His jaw dropped open but there was no gasp, no moan, not even a whimper. Just silence as he was slowly filled by that giant cock.

It pushed in next to Clark's, stretching Bruce's hole wider than ever. It burned. Even with the amount of lube used, it was a tight squeeze, just on the verge of unbearably painful. But the feeling of fullness he experienced with it was beyond anything he ever felt before, be it with Clark or any other previous partners.

The sounds finally began to appear - soft whimpers and breathless moan falling out in endless waves as Kal's cock made a space for itself inside Bruce. Inch by inch.

Bruce felt every single one of them. The way his husband's length brushed against the fluttering walls of his hole and throbbing length of Clark's own erection.

The slide in was so agonizingly slow it felt like it lasted forever before Kal finally stilled with a groan, his hips almost flush against Bruce's ass.

Bruce held his breath when it happened, dizzy with the overwhelming fullness. Two thick cocks - hot and pulsing - were crammed side by side inside his tender hole.

His husbands. Both inside him, together. 

He felt like he was about to either burst at any moment or tear, and it was the most amazing, sexual experience of his life. His cock was swollen hard again, resting in the pool of its own cum on Bruce's stomach.

A stroke to his side made Bruce release a quivering gasp and breath again.

“You did it, baby," Clark praised him in a sweet voice, trembling just slightly with desire. It was his hand that caressed Bruce's flesh, helping him relax. "You're taking us so well.”

“Ready for more?" Kal asked, damp hair plastered to his sweaty forehead. He looked utterly beautiful. 

Bruce could only nod, too lost for words for a proper answer. He gave Clark's hand a squeeze as well, a silent signal to keep going.

He felt and saw how his husbands braced, getting ready to give Bruce the fucking of his life.

Kal grabbed Bruce's thighs firmly, nails digging into the soft flesh, and began to move first, slowly pulling back.

A guttural moan escaped Bruce, a shockwave of pleasure shooting up his spine. Somehow, when squeezed together like that, his husbands felt even bigger than they already were.

Once again, Bruce felt like he was going to be split in half, pain and ecstasy blending so much together he couldn't tell them apart. And he wanted more.

Kal continued to pull out till only the head of his cock remained inside, and thrusted back in, choking out another moan from Bruce's gaping mouth.

It was the beginning of a rhythm, unhurried one and joined by Clark, who started rolling his cock into Bruce's willing ass. 

They moved in perfect tandem, the combined force of their thrusts jerking Bruce's body like it weighed nothing.

Bruce trembled, gasped, squeezing Clark's hand so tight he would've broken bones if it was human.

“Fuck, you feel amazing," Clark growled next to Bruce’s ear, his and Kal's cocks rubbing against one another as they fucked him together.

They were pulling out and sliding back at the same time, filling Bruce to his fullest each thrust. The lube and cum squelched wetly around their shafts with every move.

"Look at your stomach, baby,” Kal instructed, voice raw. "Look how good you're taking us.”

Bruce obeyed, watching how the skin of his belly budged and moved, stretching around the shape of Kal's cock. More prominent now when it had to share Bruce's hole with Clark's own erection.

Clark touched it like before, feeling himself and Kal moving inside. "You're so full, sugar,” he groaned in wonder, arousal dripping from every word. "We gonna fucking ruin you.”

He already felt ruined, reduced to nothing but a body to be fucked. He couldn't even speak right now, just moaning and whimpering as his husbands shared his ass. 

His body rocker with their thrusts - limp, shaking, burning from within with lust. His jaw hung open, spewing sound after sound of pleasure, drool dripping down his chin.

Bruce's senses went into overdrive. Every single one of them tuned to the wonderful sensation of being full. Of being desired and used.

There was not a moment of break for him to catch his breath. With each snap of their hips, Clark and Kal fucked him faster, reshaping his insides with their cocks.

Bruce could swear he was feeling them in his lungs, in his throat. The thick lengths throbbed hot and heavy inside him, veiny flesh rubbing the walls of his hole.

It clenched on them. Squeezed them right and snug. Hungry to keep those cocks in. It was making them moan and fuck Bruce with just a bit more desperation and vigor, hips bucking uncontrollably.

“So good for us," they praised.

"Such a nice hole.”

Bruce couldn't even tell who was speaking anymore, their voice unrecognizable and the rush of blood too loud in Bruce's ears to distinguish where they were coming from. His vision too blurry with tears of ecstasy to see Kal's mouth moving.

As long as they kept talking, calling him good, Bruce didn't care who was speaking. He surrendered himself completely to the pleasure given to him by his husbands, taking it all. 

Like a good boy. 

His prostate was constantly brushed and pressed at. Sometimes by just one cock, other by two at the same time. He squirmed and whimpered helplessly, the slit of his erection burning, trying to push out a precum that wasn't there anymore.

Clark and Kal's pounding grew relentless with time. They switched their rhythm - one thrusting in while the other was pulling out. 

Bruce's hole was convulsing around them. Squeezing them impossibly tight, greedily sucking them in deeper. And the tighter he was becoming, wrapped around them like a glove, the better he felt the curves of their cocks - the veins, the fat heads that hit his prostate dead on.

The fullness that seemed to have no end.

They were all moaning shamelessly now, lost in ecstasy and each other's bodies, chasing sweet release while joined together.

Bruce couldn't tell which of his husbands climaxed first, just that he felt a sudden flood of heat inside him when one of those monstrous cocks spilled inside. 

Either Kal or Clark stilled, buried deep and moaning Bruce's name like a prayer. With a needy roll of his hips, one of Bruce's husbands pumped him full of seed.

There was so much cum it quickly started to leak out, pushed out of Bruce's stretched hole with the thrusts of the other husband, still ramming into him in desperation.

And then he went still too, Bruce's name on his lips. His cock pulsing and releasing a stream of cum against Bruce's prostate where it rested, filling him up even more.

Bruce's stomach bloated with it. All the seed slouched inside when his body was still being shaken with his husbands' desperate rutting, dragging out their release.

The pleasure of being so full, so thoroughly fucked and used, resulted in an orgasm so strong Bruce blacked out for a few seconds, the world going completely dark. 

When he came back, he was still shaking from the climax. The ecstasy still coursing through his veins like second blood, broken cries spilling from his parted mouth.

Buzzing heat was spreading through his body like wildfire, pooling in his groin. His cock gave a weak little twitch, but nothing came out. 

He was completely dry.

Kal and Clark both groaned at the same time, like an echo, when Bruce's body tightened with his orgasm.

“That's it, sweetie," one of them growled.

“Milk us nice and good," the other added in his drawl.

Bruce only whimpered in reply, slowly coming down from his high, no energy left in his spasming body, not even enough to lift a finger.

Tears ran down his cheeks, wetting his lashes, covering it like a dew. He felt like he was looking at the world through a kaleidoscope.

And through this wet vision, he saw a handsome, smiling face looking down at him. Soft hands wiped the tears away, cleaned his eyes, and Bruce could see Kal fully.

“You with us, baby?" he asked sweetly, not a sign of tiredness on him.

Bruce gave out a quiet hum. The chest he was still laying on shook with a gentle laughter.

"You did good, darlin’,” Clark told him, giving Bruce's hand a comforting squeeze. "You did so wonderfully.”

A warm, proud feeling bloomed in Bruce's chest at the words.

“Such a good little slut,” Kal purred, kissing him. Bruce only released another little hum, his lips trembling.

“And all ours,” Clark added, pressing his mouth to Bruce’s cheek, hands stroking his bulged stomach.

He was still so full of them, of their cum. Their cocks didn’t get soft like his, they were ready to go again and again if they pleased. 

Even after all those orgasms, Bruce’s used hole twitched at the idea.

When Kal ended the kiss, he pulled out of Bruce as well, his meaty length stroking the overstimulated walls of Bruce’s hole. Bruce squirmed with discomfort and then moaned right after when his husband slipped free, the head catching on the sensitive rim briefly.

Clark pulled out next, lifting Bruce’s hips and taking him off his cock, letting the cum dumped into him by the two, flow freely from his abused hole. It clenched and squeezed, trying to keep it all inside, but no matter how hard Bruce clasped his muscles, he was still gaping open, leaking seed all over Clark’s body and then the bed when his husband gently laid him on it.

The sheets were damp with sweat, but Bruce sank into them all the same, completely exhausted and dazed, the remnants of ecstasy still flowing through his body. His legs were spread open, limp like the rest of him. He did not have enough strength or care to close them.

Kal shifted to the side, making a room between Bruce’s legs for Clark too, and they both admired their work, eyes glistening with renewed lust. 

“Oh, honey, look at you,” Clark cooed, touching Bruce’s used hole. Bruce’s thighs shook from the sensation, and a pitiful whine escaped him. “You’re gaping so much. Like a well used whore.”

“You should take a picture,” Kal suggested, touching Bruce as well. There was no resistance when their thick fingers pushed in together, moving through the mess of cum and lube inside, stroking and pulling at his sore hole.

With a whimper, Bruce tried to clench on them, but he still felt nothing unless his husbands deliberately touched his walls.

Clark actually did get up and grabbed his phone, snapping a few photos of Bruce’s gaping, leaking hole. “So you can see it later,” he explained, putting the phone away.

Bruce shivered, already excited to see himself ruined.

Grabbing the glass with the remaining water on his way back, Clark climbed back onto the bed and helped Bruce drink, the cold of the water soothing his sore and dry throat. Bruce sighed after the last sip and let his head sink into the pillow, eyes closing. 

He opened them again when his body was manhandled.

“We’re not done with you yet, sugar,” Kal explained, chuckling at Bruce’s confused expression.

They moved him so his head hung from the edge of the bed, on the perfect height for Kal’s cock to push inside his mouth.

Clark stayed on the bed, already rubbing the head of his cock against Bruce’s sore hole, ready to plunge in when given the permission.

He gave it to both by opening his mouth wide and finding enough strength to hump the air eagerly.

They grinned at him. “Good slut," Clark purred and started pushing in.

Bruce relished in the sensation of the fat cock sliding down his throat and the other filling up his ass. 

He gave in to both completely, wishing for this night to not be the one-time thing. That Kal could stay with them forever.

The morning came with soreness. The pleasant kind. One that reminds you how good the night before felt. That makes you sigh and feel closer to blissfulness than actual discomfort.

And the pleasure didn't end there. As Bruce's senses slowly came out of sleep, he realized he was squished between two warm, strong bodies on both sides of him.

The magic didn't wear off through the night, Kal was still there, curled against Bruce's back while Clark laid in front of him, both of their arms wrapped protectively and possessively around his body.

They were still asleep peacefully, embracing him like something precious and Bruce's heart ached for both.

He didn't care that Kal was a clone born from magic. He was real enough. His emotions and thoughts were real enough.

Bruce thought he knew romantic love. 

Clark's love was unlimited. He loved fiercely and freely, and Bruce, even with his low self-esteem and self hatred, not even for a second doubted if his husband loved him.

And now it has doubled. They both loved him, cherished him. Desired him. They would do anything for Bruce, completely devoted to him.

Bruce never experienced anything like it before and he wanted it to stay. 

The warm feeling in his chest when they held him both or kissed him. Sleeping safely tucked between their bodies. Eating together, getting ready to bed. The touch of their big, warm hands breaking him apart and putting him back together with immense pleasure.

It wasn't just about mind-blowing sex. It wasn't just some kind of novelty of having two lovers. It was about the connection.

Because just as Kal's feelings were real, so were Bruce's. He loved Kal as much as he loved Clark, and it pained him to think Kal, his husband, would disappear by the end of the day. 

He didn't deserve that just because some magic user created him.

They could make it work. Bruce was convinced they could. Kal was an exact copy, knowing everything Clark did. The two of them could take turns appearing publicly. One as Superman, the other as Clark.

Their friends and families would probably have things to say about this. 

Alfred would raise an eyebrow, but he was too loyal and professional to really oppose. 

Bruce kids would probably be shocked, but they would get over it the fastest, most likely.

The Kents were pretty open people. They adopted an alien baby that landed in their fields after all, but even them would probably need time to adjust before fully adopting Kal into their family as if he always belonged there.

And then there was the League. Their reactions were the hardest to predict because of how diverse their team was. 

One thing was certain, Hal would have a field day with the whole situation and would not shut up about it for weeks.

Bruce's thoughts must've been too loud. Or Clark, always the early riser, decided he rested enough, because he woke up with a deep inhale, his chest rising then falling with content hum under Bruce's head.

He nuzzled the crown of Bruce's hair with his nose, letting out a deep purr as he scented the smell of shampoo.

Bruce wasn't really aware of what was happening to his body since the middle of the night, but he was sure Kal and Clark brought him into a bath at the end of it. Washing him from all the cum they covered and filled him with.

They changed the sheets too because they were nice and dry underneath them.

Clark stretched his long, toned body, careful to not disturb the peace in their bed too much, even though he must've been aware Bruce was already awake.

Kal stirred too, slowly coming out of sleep. His arms around Bruce tightened. He pulled Bruce closer into his chest and rubbed their legs together.

Bruce sighed. He could stay like this forever, entangled in their warmth and love.

“Morning, everyone," Clark spoke eventually, his voice still scratchy from sleep. He ran his hand down Bruce's shoulder and to his hip, stroking it softly.

"Morning,” Kal replied with a yawn, caressing Bruce's chest tenderly. He kissed the back of Bruce's neck, sending a shiver down his spine with his hot lips. “How did you sleep, our dark Prince?" 

Bruce turned so he was on his back, able to look at both of his husbands. Every muscle screamed with effort from the movement.

"Good,” he said, barely above the whisper. His voice wasn't quite back yet. 

Both Kal and Clark hummed, pleased. 

“We weren't too rough, were we?" Clark asked with concern.

With another effort, Bruce raised his hand to Clark's face, grasping his chin gently, stroking the sharp jaw. 

“You were perfect," he told him, pulling him into a tender kiss. When he moved him away, leaving Clark's lips craving for more, he turned to Kal, and repeated the gesture. “You too," he whispered against his husband's lips before kissing him too.

When they parted, Kal's lips turned into a beautiful, loving smile. “You were perfect too," he told Bruce, grabbing his hand and lacing their fingers together.

He brought Bruce's palm to his lips and pressed a kiss to the bruised knuckles.

Clark hummed in agreement, taking the other hand and mirroring Kal's gesture. "Absolutely marvelous,” he breathed out, his voice full of admiration, love and wonder. 

All directed at Bruce.

How could he not want that for himself? Could anyone blame him for being selfish like that?

"We should probably get up," Clark suggested after a while. “Get some food into you,” he told Bruce.

"I don't want to," he mumbled in return and closed his eyes, sighing deeply. "I want to stay like this,” he admitted.

He wanted to enjoy this bliss while he still could. Everything else could wait.

"Bruce," Kal said in a scolding tone, taking Clark's side. Bruce should've expected that double the Clark also meant double the stubbornness. "We fucked you till 4AM,” he reminded Bruce. "You need to eat." 

Bruce cracked one eye open, looking at the clock hanging on the wall. It was only 7AM, he only slept three hours. Plenty enough for him to rest, he was used to it.

“I want breakfast in bed,” he demanded, turning with a quiet groan onto his stomach and burying his face in the pillow.

Kal and Clark sighed.

“Fine," Clark finally gave in. Bruce turned his head just the right way to catch the sight of his amused smile and get a kiss on the forehead. “I'll tell Alfred." 

Bruce watched him climb out of bed, hungrily following the flex of his muscular, naked body. 

Fishing a pair of boxers out of the dresser and a robe out of the wardrobe, Clark dressed himself quickly. Before he went to find Alfred, he returned to bed, kissing Bruce again and, to Bruce's surprise, Kal too.

It wasn't just a quick peck, it was a tender press of lips, moving together with anything but innocence.

“I'll be right back," he promised them and left the master bedroom, the tapping of his bare feet on the Manor floors slowly fading away.

Bruce stared after him, shocked.

When Clark and Kal made out in bed last night, he thought they were just indulging in his fantasies. He never expected them to kiss after when the passion and lust had died out.

It seemed Bruce wasn't the only one wishing Kal could stay. And Clark left them alone too. Not because he was trusting them to not do anything when he was gone.

But because he didn't mind if they did.

Because Kal was Bruce's husband too, in Clark's eyes.

Bruce's heart began to beat faster, rising blush to his cheeks. 

Maybe he could keep them both after all.

Kal noticed the blush covering his face and smiled, kissing the warmed-up skin. Bruce shuddered, lips parting with a sound of content.

“You should still get up,” Kal pointed out, replacing his lips with his palm, cupping Bruce's cheek. “Alfred won't appreciate seeing you like this.”

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows, glancing down at his covered body. A few bruises peeked out at him from under the blanket, and he could only imagine how much worse the rest of him looked.

Rolling himself to the empty side of bed, still warm from the presence of Clark's body, Bruce got onto his feet. They wobbled the moment he put all of his weight on them, stumbling a bit forward.

Kal was by his side before Bruce even registered he was falling.

“You're like a newborn calf," his husband chuckled, wrapping an arm around his waist for support.

Bruce leaned into him without even thinking about it, the shape and warmth of the body next to him so familiar it felt natural.

"I'm fine,” Bruce told him, keeping his eyes forward to not look at his body just yet.

“You're not and that's okay," Kal said in return, stubbornly staying by Bruce's side as they made their way around the bed.

Slowly, with every step shooting a burning pain up his back and through his thighs, Bruce limped to the adjacent bathroom.

In a full body mirror, he finally looked at himself.

He looked like he came back from a battle or a very hard and long patrol. Only the origin of marks covering his body was much more pleasant and consensual than a brawl with alien gods or the entirety of Gotham's criminals.

They weren't left by fist or blunt weapon. By knives or tasers. 

They were left by hands gripping him tightly, mouths sucking on, hips thrusting against him and teeth sinking into his flesh.

He was covered in bruises from head to toes. His ankles looked like they were in shackles. Hand shaped marks were left on his hips and hickeys dotted the inside and outside of his thighs.

The other side of his body didn't look any better, his ass and the back of his thighs marked with red from brutal pounding.

Trails of bite marks ran all through his chest. All fresh. The shape of teeth was pressed into the skin around his nipples. A new set of marks right next to old scars.

He touched some of them, still warm under his fingers because of how sore they were. How young.

They led him to his neck. Oh god, his neck. 

Red and purple bruises covered the entire left side of it. The same one Clark and Kal bit and sucked relentlessly as if obsessed. As if they were vampires thirsty for blood.

The huge mark bloomed all the way from the base of his neck to under his ear. A colorful splash of evidence of Clark and Kal's passion.

Bruce stroked the bruises, feeling many teeth marks underneath his fingertips. Like a topographic map.

Instead of being horrified by the damage done, he was enchanted with it.

"I should at least cover this," he mused, skin tingling under his touch.

Only no amount of make up would cover the bright purple and red of his bruises - a striking contrast to his otherwise pale skin.

He would have to wear only turtlenecks for the next few weeks.

Kal wrapped his arms around him from behind, his hands fitting the shape and size of red marks on his hips. 

“Yeah, you probably should," he agreed, kissing the bruised neck gently, as if apologizing.

His lips soothed the ache.

Clark found them like this, still admiring Bruce's marked body.

“Alfred will bring food soon, he already started it before I got to the kitchen," he informed and stood beside them.

He placed his palm on Bruce's lower back, in the narrow space between it and Kal's body - including himself in their presence, but without disturbing their embrace.

“I thought you wanted to stay in bed,” he pointed out in amusement, watching Bruce through the reflection in the mirror. His gaze followed the bruises with appreciation.

“I needed to see what you two did to me," Bruce replied, touching another mark on his body. “I don't even remember how the majority of them came to be." 

His husbands flashed him with the same, smug smirk.

"Then we did a good job last night,” Kal concluded, nosing Bruce's neck and making him shiver.

"You did,” Bruce agreed. He was going to feel that night for the next week. On patrols, at work, in League meetings. And he was going to cherish every ache and sting. “You really did." 

He turned in Kal's arms and brought him into a kiss, hand in hair, the other cupping his husband's jaw.

The kiss was short, just long enough to show Bruce's appreciation and stir a pleasant heat in his lower belly. 

When he pulled away, Kal chasing after his lips for half a second, Bruce immediately turned to Clark and dragged him into one by the lapel of his robe as well.

He could really get used to this. To having them both to kiss. To having them look at him like he was the most important being in the universe.

Bruce and Clark's lips barely parted when there was a knock on the bedroom door.

"Breakfast, Master Bruce, Master Clark,” Alfred announced from the hallway. "Ready to be served in bed, as requested.”

“Coming, Alfred!" Clark replied for the three of them. Mostly for Bruce, who feared any raise in volume would end with a coughing fit for him.

“Fetch me my robe," Bruce asked Kal. He wanted to cover not only his nakedness, but the bruises as well. Unfortunately, the one upon his neck would be in plain sight still. Just for Alfred to see it.

And judge it.

“Grab yourself something as well," he added in reminder while Kal made his way outside the bathroom.

Bruce hooked his arm with Clark's and with his husband's support, they followed after him.

Kal helped Bruce slip the robe on and Clark tied it for him. The silky fabric felt nice and cool against his warm, aching body.

When Kal was dressed as well, a pair of Clark's sweatpants hanging low on his hips, Clark opened the door for Alfred. 

He walked in with a big tray holding everything needed for breakfast, going with it straight to the little table in the corner. He placed it carefully on the top and turned around to survey the room.

Alfred's gaze didn't linger any longer than necessary on Kal, or even on the state of Bruce's neck. He was the picture of perfect professionalism as always.

“How was your sleep, sirs?" he asked, hands folded behind his back. The question was directed at the three of them, but he looked only at Bruce.

"Good.”

"Great.”

Kal and Clark responded, respectively. 

Bruce cleared his throat. "Fine,” he replied too.

Alfred nodded. “While doing my rounds around the Manor before sleep, I couldn't help but notice Master Kal wasn't in the guest room,” he pointed out, walking to the curtains and drawing them open for the morning sun to fall in. "For a moment I was concerned he vanished, or the magic started acting up and he was up to no good.”

"We figured out it would be safer if he wasn't away from Clark,” Bruce explained, his husbands nodding along. 

It was a pathetic excuse, one that wasn't even needed, because anyone would've figured out what went on during the night.

They weren't fooling anyone.

Certainly not Alfred.

“I see," the butler responded simply, assessing all three of them. "How fortunate you switched the king size bed to Alberta king after the wedding, Master Bruce, or sleeping arrangement would've been difficult.”

Bruce felt the tips of his ears getting warmer. 

"I would've just slept floating next to the bed,” Kal informed earnestly.

Alfred shifted his gaze to him. "New haircut, I see,” he commented on the buzz cut. "It suits you, sir.”

Kal beamed, running a hand through his locks and shaved off spot. "Thank you.”

“I'll leave you to your breakfast, gentlemen,” Alfred announced. “You in particular look like you need it, Master Bruce." 

His ears felt like they were burning now.

"Thank you, Alfred,” he replied steadily.

Alfred nodded, heading to the door. "Oh, I almost forgot,” he said, stopping in the doorway. "Miss Prince called. She said Miss Zatara will be here in an hour." 

Bruce narrowed his eyes. Next to him, Kal visibly tensed. “She was supposed to come back later today." 

That was cutting their time with Kal short by a few hours. It made Bruce's stomach churn in an extremely uncomfortable manner.

"I assume the League contacted her and made her hurry up,” Alfred concluded. "I'll call you when she arrives.”

"Thank you, Alfred," Bruce repeated, watching the butler leave.

The silence fell upon the room with the click of the door closing. Bruce already wasn't up for eating, but now even less so.

Kal would be gone in an hour. Zatanna would come and undo whatever magic gave him life. Like he didn't matter.

But he did. He mattered to Bruce.

Clark stepped closer, touching his shoulder.

"Hey," he said softly. “You okay?”

Bruce didn't answer right away. He looked at Kal first, seeing concern on his face that only deepened his despair.

"I don't want him gone,” he admitted, turning to Clark.

He didn't know what reaction to expect.

Clark made it clear he didn't judge him for desiring his clone. That he had a soft spot for him too.

But agreeing to Kal joining them in bed to spice things up for one night was different than inviting him into their life permanently.

Bruce was foolish. He had hoped. Let himself dream it could be permanent when nothing was certain yet.

The expression Clark gave him in response to his words was soft, eyes understanding. "You got attached.”

"Didn't mean to.”

It just happened. 

It was kind of fitting. He didn't mean to fall in love with Clark either, but it happened.

Standing next to Bruce, Kal shifted nervously, uncertainty radiating from him in waves. Clark glanced at him and gave him a reassuring smile before returning his gaze to Bruce.

"Yeah, me neither,” he admitted, the comforting smile turning sheepish.

The heart in Bruce's chest leaped, sudden joy pushing him forward into seizing Clark's face and kissing him deeply.

Every time he thought he knew him, his husband kept surprising him in the best way possible.

How did someone like Bruce get so lucky?

"You both want me to stay?” Kal asked shyly.

Bruce and Clark turned to him together, hand in hand.

"If you want to," Clark replied.

Kal's face lit up, practically glowing. "You kidding? Of course I want to!” he exclaimed, but the doubt already started creeping back in. "But… you really don't mind? I'm just a clone, no matter how perfect," he reminded them.

"You're not just a clone," Clark told him, scolded almost. “Not to me, not to Bruce.”

"And maybe with enough time, you can be your own person," Bruce suggested, smiling at him. “You already look different enough.”

Kal laughed, cheerful and hopeful.

"It was nice to take care of Bruce with you,” Clark continued in that gentle tone. “Wouldn't mind permanent help. He's quite a handful.”

Bruce huffed, glaring at his husband. "Divorce me then.”

Clark shook his head. "Never," he swore solemnly, lifting Bruce's palm to his lips. “Besides, that wasn't me complaining.”

Bruce smirked, leaning for another kiss.

"What about the others?” Kal questioned, still not entirely convinced this arrangement could work. “Our friends and family. Won't they think it's weird?”

"We'll handle that as we go," Clark decided simply.

There was really nothing else they could do. Except coming up with ways to soften the news. But that was something Bruce would worry about later.

With each argument, Kal's body began to lose its tension.

"Do you think it's even possible for me to stay?” he asked.

They didn't know. That's what worried Bruce too. But magic was capable of a lot of things. If it could make a perfect copy of his husband, maybe it could make the copy stay too.

"I guess we'll find out," Clark replied, hopeful as always, and patted Kal on the shoulder reassuringly. “Let's eat and cuddle before Zatanna comes.”

Kal let out a relieved chuckle.

“Okay,” he agreed, and turned with a smile to Bruce. He grabbed his free hand and tugged gently. "Come on, sugar, you wanted breakfast in bed. We'll feed you." 

Bruce eagerly followed them into bed, laying in its center. He was handfed like some royalty, warm fingers brushing his lips with every bite. Two pairs of impossibly blue eyes looking at him with love and adoration.

Shortly after the breakfast was over and they dressed up for the day, with Bruce covering the blooming bruises on his neck with a fashionable scarf, Zatanna arrived. 

Alfred opened the door to the sitting room for her and she walked in with the same confidence she had on stage, her face sporting a dashing smile.

A striking contrast to how the three of them felt upon seeing her.

"Hey guys,” she greeted them cheerfully. “I heard you had a run with magic.”

"Clark got cloned,” Bruce explained blankly, nodding at Kal sitting on his left.

Zatanna’s gaze landed on him instantly and Bruce’s husband tensed. As if he was going to cease to exist just from Zee looking at him.

"Oh, it's this type of spell,” she recognized immediately. 

She walked up to them and sat on the couch opposite to the one the three of them were occupying together - Bruce in the middle, flanked by his husbands.

"Is it reversible?” Clark asked her.

"Oh yeah, quite easily,” she answered, throwing one leg over the other and leaning back comfortably. “You know, you guys are lucky. Someone only casted the first part of the spell and just cloned Clark, but it could've been worse.”

Bruce's eyes narrowed. "What's the other part?”

"It fills the clone with rage and puts him under control of the caster,” she explained. “You would've had evil Superman on your hands." 

Bruce had expected this much. Why else clone someone, especially someone this powerful, if not to use the clone to fight?

To think they were just one spell away from having to fight Clark’s evil clone instead of having him in their bed.

“Good thing Hal contained them before they could finish the spell," Kal chuckled nervously.

He probably regretted speaking when it brought Zatanna's attention back to him. He went rigid next to Bruce and squeezed his hand.

“Okay, I know it will be scary because you feel real, but I promise you won't feel a thing," she promised him as she got to her feet, remembering why she came here in the first place.

“Hold on, Zee," Clark stopped her with a raised hand, making her plop back on the couch. "Do we have to make Kal disappear?” he asked innocently. "I mean, the world could use another Super on its side, and he's a nice guy, you know?" 

“Nice guy?” she repeated, staring between three of them. “Clark, he's not real." 

“He's real enough," Bruce snapped at her.

Zatanna looked at him in surprise, searching his face for a reason for this outburst of protectiveness. When she didn’t find any, her gaze landed on his and Kal’s joined hands, noticing the detail for the first time.

“Oh.” It dawned on her. “I know what's going on here.” A mix of amusement and sympathy appeared on her face as she looked at the three of them. “Sorry, boys, even if I don't do anything now, he'll disappear on his own in a few days when the magic he's built off runs out.”

Bruce’s heart dropped to his stomach, cold slipping in. Part of him expected to hear this, but he allowed himself to silence it. For once, he tried to stay hopeful like Clark, and it stabbed him in the back.

Feeling him tense up, his husbands squeezed his hands in an attempt to comfort him. Bruce wasn’t surprised Clark did it. But Kal shouldn’t be the one doing any soothing. He was about to stop existing in a few moments. Or days, max.

Bruce should be comforting him, not the other way around. Yet even faced with his own demise, Kal put himself second, prioritizing Bruce first.

It only made the pain he felt sting so much more.

"There's nothing you can do to stop it?” Bruce asked.

If not her, then maybe Constantine. Zatanna’s father. Raven. Anyone. Someone had to know a way to keep a magic clone from vanishing.

Bruce refused to lose his husband like that.

"Nothing I know of,” Zatanna said.

Kal nodded, body relaxing in a devastating acceptance of his fate.

"It's okay, guys,” he reassured them, squeezing Bruce’s hand again. He tried to keep his voice steady, but it trembled just enough to show he was scared. “I'm glad I came to life, even if only for a short while.”

He smiled, trying to soften the situation, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

"Can you give us a moment, Zee?" Bruce asked their friend.

“Sure,” she nodded in understanding and got up. “I'll be outside."

Zatanna left, closing the door behind her. For a long while, none of them spoke, they just sat there, still holding hands as if it would stop them from being separated.

“We tried," Clark eventually said with a frustrated sigh.

“There has to be a loophole,” Bruce insisted. He let go of their hands and stood up, pacing back and forth in front of them. “It's magic, there always is." 

Usually, it frustrated him. He hated how magic was turning everything upside down, no matter from what angle he looked at it. Now he really wanted it to flip his expectations.

Bruce walked between two couches, thoughts running hundred miles a minute before Kal standing in his way made him stop.

"But Zatanna doesn't know one,” he reminded Bruce with another sad smile. “Yet. Until she knows, I guess, this is a goodbye.”

The squeeze in Bruce’s chest felt like a knife stab.

"You don't have to go now,” Clark said, standing up to join them. He put a hand on Kal’s shoulder, thumb drawing soothing circles. “You heard her, you have a few days.”

They didn’t even know how many. Could be two, could be a week. Either way, they would have to say goodbye eventually. If they would get a chance even. Kal could disappear overnight or in a blink. His hand in Bruce’s one moment, then gone the next.

"Saying goodbye will only get harder,” Kal pointed out, leaning into Clark’s touch.

"It won't get any easier either,” Bruce countered, putting both hands on Kal’s chest. He could feel how fast his heart was beating. “But it's up to you." 

He didn’t want to say goodbye yet. Or ever. But if that’s what Kal wanted, if he didn’t want to drag it out to only hurt them more in a few days, then Bruce would respect that.

It was his life after all.

Kal watched them both, thinking for a long while, weighing his options. The clock ticked, precious seconds passing.

Finally, Kal reached for Bruce’s hand, then Clark’s, and smiled.

“If you two will have me, I'll stay as long as I can," he decided, giving their palms a squeeze.

Bruce squeezed Kal’s hand back, smiling, while Clark beamed at him.

It wasn’t an ideal solution, but it was giving them a few more days to enjoy this unusual and surprising arrangement. But most importantly, it was giving Bruce more time to figure out how to make Kal stay permanently.

He would contact every magician and sorcerer on the planet if he had, until one could make it possible.

And if it really wasn’t, well… Bruce had another solution to the problem. Or so he hoped.

“Zee?" he called out.

Zatanna poked her in through the door.

“So?” she asked, stepping in completely, smiling at their joined hands. She was taking it surprisingly well. “What's the decision?" 

Bruce ignored her question entirely. “Can you replicate the spell?” 

If all would fail, they could just keep bringing Kal back every now and then. It wouldn’t be the same as having him permanently, but it was better than losing him forever.

“Oh yeah, it's easy,” she replied smugly. “Very basic."

Bruce and Clark shared a knowing look.

Zatanna snorted. “Freaks,” she declared, shaking her head fondly. “I have a feeling I'm not needed anymore,” she figured out and turned around to leave them alone. “Call me when I am.”

They would. Maybe soon. They still had to make Bruce's clone after all. Hopefully, they wouldn't get attached to it like they did to Kal.

Once again, Zatanna closed the door behind her as she left, leaving the three of them to themselves.

"Even if she replicates the spell, the clone she will make won't be the same as me,” Kal pointed out the moment they were alone. "It won't have my memories.”

"But it'll have mine of this day," Clark countered immediately, pulling Kal's hand and bringing him a step closer. “Of how much we want you here. And it will have my love for Bruce.”

“That's all we need," Bruce concluded, and pulled Kal closer as well. "Come here,” he invited him in a sweet, tempting voice, a seductive smile curling his lips.

Grinning, Kal eagerly fell into them both, and Bruce once again found himself trapped between his husbands, already short on breath.

Bruce brought Kal into a kiss - sweet and sensual. Letting him know exactly how much he wanted him to stay. How much Kal meant to him.

And when he was satisfied and had Kal make a soft, moaning sound at the back of his throat, Bruce let Clark deliver the same message. 

He watched how their mouths moved together in the same, passionate motion, Clark's hand cupping Kal's jaw tenderly.

When they parted, equally blissful expressions on their faces, their eyes instantly landed on Bruce squished between them. 

There was only one place he would rather be right now than here, and luckily, he could combine them.

"Take me to bed,” he requested, breathless.

He didn't need to tell them twice. In less than a second, he was back in their bedroom, being stripped carefully, every revealed piece of skin worshiped with gentle hands and greedy lips.

Calls to sorcerers could wait a few more hours.