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Clark arrived that day with an annoying twitch on his left shoulder and a tired sigh fleeing his mouth, he wasn’t getting any younger it seemed and it weighed on him how a few years ago a few weeks of planet-hopping and then article-writing would have been nothing, but now…
… Now he was tired.
He left his keys in that ridiculously expensive glass bowl Bruce had sent over once as a prank that he had been too self-conscious to throw away - despite the stupid pattern of flying monkeys and witches that had Lois huffing and the rest of the League laughing until tears were pouring out of their eyes - because the thing was worth a few thousand dollars and that was more than Clark made in a year.
Also, his lover had taken one look at it, smiled that little not-smile of his before muttering how Bruce was trying to be passive-aggressive without actually being rude and wasn’t that cute?
And thus the cute bowl of Bruce’s passive-aggressive…ness stayed.
And so did Clark’s current lover.
“I’m home,” he called to the darkened hallway, his eyes eagerly roaming his massive apartment.
He heard more than he saw the hurried footsteps on the hardwood floor as his lover flung himself from his high-backed chair and wrapped his arms tightly around Clark’s neck, his smile wide and eyes bright.
“Welcome home!” the younger man beamed as he nuzzled his cheek against Clark’s skin. “Daddy.”
Clark’s eyes widened, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. His lover was sucking on the tender skin behind his ear, legs wrapped around his waist as he made up for their difference in height.
“Tim…” he whispered as he finally realized his lover was wearing those naughty little cut-off jeans he had stolen from one of his adoptive sisters - the blond one who he refused to learn the name from, since she was also Tim’s ex and Clark was Superman and he had the right to be petty and jealous sometimes, right?- and a red and black hoodie that, for some reason made his face look rounder, his eyes bigger, his hair fluffy.
He was also wearing those childish stripped thigh-high socks that made his legs look long and slender and trippy.
His cock rose with interest instantly as his arms wrapped around his lover’s small waist to hold him in place.
“Did you miss Daddy, Baby Boy?” he asked, his voice low and throaty, his hands cupping his baby’s ass as he steadied him.
Tim grinned, his lips pink and wet and soft like a flower.
He had apparently been planning this for a while.
“I missed you very much, Daddy,” the teen whispered against Clark’s ear, licking and nipping at the shell shamelessly. “So, so much.”
“How much, Baby? Tell Daddy how much you missed him,” he hissed as he allowed his hands to massage Tim’s ass cheeks, enjoying how soft and perky they were, how the powerful muscles the teen had, never diminished their roundness.
Tim’s smile turned shy and small, more his usual smile.
He then thrust his heavily erected cock against Clark’s muscled stomach, moaning wantonly.
“This much, Daddy. I missed you this much.”
Clark locked his eyes with his beautiful Baby Boy, silently wondering what he had done to deserve a lover that understood his needs and his wants so completely, so utterly as Tim did, and yes, he had to pretend he didn’t notice Kon-El’s condemning looks and his whispers of ‘pervert’ that seemed to float around whenever the three of them met.
And he had felt guilty that first night Tim decided to climb on top of him and wrap those flower-like lips around the tip of his cock, but by the following morning, his young lover had looked at him, petted his hair and made him realize that it was okay to be sexual, that he didn’t have to feel guilty because he was a consenting adult and so was Tim…
… Emancipated minor was legally a consenting adult, apparently.
“My poor Baby Boy,” Clark cooed, flying them both towards their shared bedroom and into the massive bed one of Tim’s brothers - Jason, because the sociopath thought he was funny - had given them as a housewarming present. “Let Daddy take care of you, my sweet.”
He slowly let his lover onto his back on the bed, allowing himself a few moments to memorize the image before him, the way Tim’s chest rose and fell with each breath, how his eyes were half-lidded and yet so bright they rivaled stars, the way he could hear the pulse under his baby’s skin flutter like the wings of a hummingbird.
“Such a beautiful boy,” he whispered, surprised his voice didn’t catch, as he ran a hand over Tim’s jaw, the sharp lines of his chin and down the delicate column of his throat.
“Am I, Daddy?” the teen whispered, his smile small, once more, his cheeks flushed a dusty pink. Clark doesn’t use words like ‘beautiful’ and ‘pretty’ very often, despite how much he thinks about them, he knows Tim is a man and therefore doesn’t feel it should be adequate.
… now, however?
“Yes,” Clark smiles back. “Daddy’s beautiful boy.”
Tim giggled, his petite hands covering his mouth shyly, his lanky seventeen-year-old body seemed smaller, somehow, his graceful slenderness transposed into knobby knees and pointy elbows - an impression only heightened by his childish wiggling, his schoolboy blush, the way his hands skated restlessly over the sheets as if desperate to reach out for Clark yet not sure if he should.
Using the tips of his fingers and barely any force, - despite how much Clark wanted to tear at Tim’s clothing - he lowered the zipper of Tim’s hoodie, grinning when he realized the boy was wearing nothing underneath. Clark ghosted his hands over the very tips of Tim’s nipples, only to hear him whimper out from the tease.
It was all the encouragement the older man needed to get rougher.
With his thumbs and forefingers Clark started to stroke faster, loving the feeling of his lover’s nipples getting hard. He continued to pinch them and pull them, he dragged his thumb nail carefully over their peaks, drinking every sound Tim made and feeling his blood roar against his ears.
“Do you like that, Baby?” He leaned down to pant into Tim’s ear. “Do you like when Daddy plays with you?”
Tim only nodded his head in response, his still clothed hips thrusting upwards towards Clark in an effort to get his attention.
Clark immediately decided it was time to get rid of his shirt and pants – no time for his tie, too little time on his underwear – and slowly lean over his lover’s smaller boy, sheltering his pale skin from the moon and the night and the sky that so often deprived him of his beauty.
Tim’s eyes shut tightly as Clark brought one of his reddened nipples into his mouth.
He nipped at it sharply and ran his free hand over his lover’s flank as he arched and cried out.
“Please Daddy.”
And Clark knew it was sick how the high, broken pitch of that word went straight to his cock. He knew it was sick to relish how small Tim felt beneath him and how young he looked flushed and begging.
“What do you want Baby? Want can Daddy do?” He panted against his heaving chest, moving over to bite at the teen’s other nipple. Tim whined and clutched at his hair.
“Please.”
“Come on Baby, you have to tell Daddy what you want. How can Daddy give you what you want if you don’t tell me?” he whispered, leaving his teasing to whisper against the shell of the boy’s ear, feeling how Tim continued to grind himself against his thigh and yet not willing to give up his torture so easily.
“Touch me Daddy please.”
There it was.
Clark moaned himself, feeling about to burst as he made his way down Tim’s chest and abdomen, licking and sucking a thin trail of kisses until he reached his lover’s shorts, wet and straining from his arousal.
“Oh, Baby Boy,” he whispered in awe. “Look how wet you are for Daddy.”
And since Tim’s thighs twitched in response, he decided he might as well mouth at the clothed erection for a little while, bring his usually cool and controlled lover over the edge. The scent of precum and sweat and male nearly drove him wild, the moans and groans Tim emitted almost had him coming himself.
Acting quickly, he sat up and hooked his fingers on the sides of the teen’s shorts and dragged them down Tim’s lovely legs. His cock sprang up and slapped his stomach, wet and flushed.
Clark couldn’t resist licking a stripe from base to the tip just to hear his Baby moan, again.
Running a gentle hand up his sock-clad bare leg, Clark decided to take things a little further.
“Has anyone ever touched you here before, Baby?”
Tim shook his head.
“No, never. No… oooh - no one has, Daddy.”
Fuck.
“Oh, sweetheart, that’s so good—such a good boy. Only Daddy gets to touch you here.”
The boy nodded again, still wide-eyed and so innocent it nearly hurt to look at him. “Only Daddy.”
“Then why are you so wet down there, Baby?” he mocked, his finger teasing Tim’s pink entrance and the glistening liquid slowly sliding out of it, the way the muscles relaxed under his touch and almost convulsed in their urge to swallow him.
He raised an eyebrow.
Tim stared at him for a moment, flushed with arousal and a mock approximation of childish shame. He finally lowered his eyes towards Clark’s massive erection and muttered a soft.
“I missed you too much, Daddy.”
Clark’s finger entered him immediately, knowing his lover was thorough whenever they played, yet needing to make sure the boy was ready. The wet, squelching noises were loud to his ears, as loud as his own heartbeat, and he felt he was going to implode if he wasn’t inside his Tim soon. He hastily added a second finger, scissoring them as best as he could, if only to make absolutely sure Tim could take him, before pulling out and grasping the teen’s hips with both hands.
Tim whinned and whimpered, his hands reaching for Clark’s shoulders, trying to pull him closer.
Clark touted.
“My poor, Baby Boy, Daddy wants to help you. Daddy wants to make you feel so good, baby.” he whispered. “You want that don’t you? Want Daddy to fill you up? Come on, tell Daddy.”
Almost delirious and on the edge of climax Tim spread his legs wider to make room for the older man
“Yes, Daddy,” he panted, “Need you.”
Clark teased his twitching hole with his cock, sliding it up and down and slapping it gently. “You want Daddy’s cock in you, Baby?”
Impatient Tim hooked a leg behind his lover’s back and pulled with all his might - not that it made any difference to Clark, but he could guess in his desperation, his lover had forgotten that fact. “Daddy, I need you cock in me now. I’m so empty. So lonely!”
Unable to handle any further delays, Clark lined himself up and sunk inside Tim’s tight wet hole. Driving forward until he was ball deep he tried to wait for his baby to adjust but couldn’t help rocking into him.
“Oh, Baby Boy. Daddy’s gonna fuck you. Because he loves you. You know that, baby?” Clark said as he continued to thrust, slicking the remaining lube on his fingers around Tim’s bouncing cock.
“Yes, yes, Daddy loves me, he loves me so much,” Tim babbled, shaking his head back and forth, shivering and incoherent with pleasure. “Oh, oh god, Daddy, you’re so big.”
“Beautiful boy—beautiful, sweet, precious, wonderful boy,” Clark chanted back, the praise falling off his tongue without thought, mindless, adoring praise showering over his lover’s skin.
Tim moans, thrust harder back, and the older man didn’t know how long this could possibly go on. Tim was tight and perfect beneath him, writhing and desperate, and so fucking perfect.
"Oh fuck you feel so good around Daddy’s cock, Baby.” Clark said, losing himself in the feeling. “Fuck! You’re so perfect. Want you to come just like this. Just from Daddy’s cock fucking you!”
Clark felt Tim clench around him as he came, the impossible tightness of his hole and the desperate moans escaping him set the man off as he felt himself swell and came shot after shot deep inside his baby’s spasming body, still trusting with each spurt of come he thought he might die if his orgasm didn’t abate.
When Clark felt finally strong enough to regain his breathing without blowing their wall away – it had happened, and it was not one of his proudest moments – he raised himself on shaking arms over his lover, his eyes misty, his vision still a little blurry.
“Are you alright?” he asked, running a soothing hand over Tim’s sweat-soaked hair, doing his best not to let his body language betray his nervousness.
He had gone a little overboard this time and the words that spilled out of his mouth. The perversions.
What would Tim think of him now…
The teen opened wet blue eyes, his skin still flushed, his breathing short, hoarse.
He smiled, placing his own hand on Clark’s cheek and staring straight into his eyes.
“Of course I am, Daddy,” he whispered back, his tongue running over his lower lip. “This was fun.”
Clark felt his heart soar.
He didn’t feel old or tired anymore.