To Kiss a God

Chapter Ten: Confessions

Clark slowly runs a hand over Bruce's face, his thumb brushing against the soft tissue of his lower lip. Their faces are mere inches apart, naked bodies twined together in the soft darkness of the room. He moves his hand to the back of Bruce's head, running his fingers through the raven black hair. Clark gently pulls Bruce's head down to him, initiating a tender kiss. Delicate and loving, something that would be found between two lovers or friends.
Only to find Bruce's lips unresponsive.
He hears Bruce sigh, watches those dark eyes flash to the ceiling, and feels the loss of warmth as Bruce abruptly moves off of him.

Clark jerks into a sitting position, pulse racing.

"Are you going to run away again?" His voice sounds unnaturally loud in the sanctuary of the room, frantic. He sounds like someone who's desperate and berates himself for his stupidity. For hoping this time would be different.

Bruce doesn't even look at him.

Clark watches as he snatches his crinkled shirt from the ground, trepidation building inside. The dejavu of the moment setting in, he's just someone to fuck.
"So this is how it's going to be?" He demands, aware of the angery flush rising to his cheeks. He rises to his knees on the bed.
"You fuck me and then leave me." He spits the words out like poison, venom on his tongue. Bruce doesn't turn to look at him as he deliberately dresses. Clark can almost feel his heart cracking.

"Am I not even worth your time?" Clark desperately craves to feel rage, righteous fury instead of the sadness and emptiness that echo in his chest. He's, pathetically, almost in tears.
"Did you ever care about me?

Silence.

Christ, it's all in his head, Bruce never cared about him.

In a split second of desperation, he can't help himself, his fingers wrap around Bruce's muscular shoulders pulling them face to face. It forces Bruce to look at him and for the first time, Clark actually sees the other man.

There's something wounded about his look and suddenly, he meets Clark's eyes.
"Clark..." his voice is barely a whisper, hopeless and broken.
Bruce takes a deep breath, as if trying to seal away his emotions and compose himself.
"Of course you're worth my time... But I'm hardly worth yours." He drags himself out of Clark's bruising grip. Moving viscously to grab his suit jacket, body whipcord tight and eyes bright with anger.
Suddenly he stops, facing Clark again.
"Fuck Clark! You have no idea what I'm like, how fucked up I really am! You deserve so much more then me! You have no idea how much I've fantasized about that! How long I've craved to do that." He swears dangerously. His voice softer.
"Of course I care about you. How could I not? You're intelligent, selfless, kind, and beautiful." Bruce laughs mirthlessly,
"Inside and out. How could anyone not fall instantly in love with you?"

They stare at each other, both at a loss for words. Both breathless with emotion.

"Bruc-" Clark started, then froze as the bedroom door blew open.

Okay Question Time (since I can't make a decision to save my life)
Who should be the one to open the door?
A. Oliver Queen
B. Wonder Women
C. Lois Lane
D. Some enemy
E. Other?