Quietindulgence



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    “To be clear,” Bruce says, “you don’t have radioactive cum?”

    This is what finally gets Clark to look at him. His hand goes slack as he squints up at him in confusion. “No?”

    “And you don’t have a ten-foot tentacle for genitalia?”

    “Bruce.”

    “Clark,” he says, with the same amount of exasperation. “I thought it was going to be something serious. I was prepared to wear a hazmat suit.”

    “It’s been a problem in the past!” Clark protests, raising himself up to a sitting position. Then, incredulously: “You’d wear a hazmat suit just to have sex with me?”

    (Clark has a—well, you could say, "little"—problem. Bruce just wants to bone.)

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    28 May 2026