Title: Affection [FanFiction.Net | Archive of Our Own]
Category: Justice League
Character(s)/Relationship(s): [Diana of Themyscira (Wonder Woman), Clark Kent/Kal-El (Superman)]
Disclaimer: Clark/Kal and Diana belong to each other as much as they belong to DC Comics.
Summary: An intimate moment and a conversation between lovers.
There was a soft rustling of sheets, the wet sound of the slapping of flesh, and the feeling of an increasing intensity manifested by rapid breathing. These noises filled the room, as if a scent, as if a perfume, quickly spreading itself throughout the oddly shapped chamber surrounded by walls of crystals.
“Oh, Clark, Ka-ahh,” Diana attempted to say her lover’s name, only for her words to meld into an incoming gasp, as her own movements increased in pace, almost rocking the bed, the legs of the bed making a high pitched squeak as they scraped the cold, hard floor. She moaned, closed her eyes tightly, arched her back, and threw her head back, all the while not stopping her ministrations, and she breathed as if she was running out of air. If he was another man, she could have broken her lover’s pelvis.
The man underneath her watched as she panted and lost herself in the sensations they have been relishing in the few minutes they managed to steal away from work. It was a day without rest; they always needed to be on alert. Superheroes never rested. They had so little downtime. And so, when it happened that after teleporting to the Watchtower separately, they found themselves alone together, and there was no call, nothing, except of two lovers just wanting to spend some time together. It had been a long and tough time for the two of them and many others. Situations were forcing them to choose and make hard choices.
They needed to have a moment to themselves.
He reached up, one arm reaching around her neck, pulling her back down. His other hand tried to free her impeccable face from her raven waves. The roots were slick with sweat. He wanted to see her face, to look at her flushing cheeks that made her all the more beautiful. He held her close, forcing her to bend down, aligning his forehead with hers. He ambushed her parted lips with his own. She reached down for him and let her hands slip under his arms to his back, to his hair, as their mouths fought. She paused in her movements to revel in the kiss. Her fingers were buried in his hair as she pulled him against her.
When she paused, he slid his hands to her back and rolled their bodies, so that her back was pressed on the bedsheets, and he was above her. His mouth travelled from her lips to her jaw, slowly going down to her neck, nipping on the smooth olive flesh. His teeth left marks, but they would fade soon enough. His hands massaged her breasts. He pinched the taut nipples, and she gasped. His right hand moved lower, grazing her flat stomach, and the pinching fingers were replaced by his lips. The hand that moved lower reached down and pressed against a nub, and a loud moan came from her lips. If his fingers moved any lower… it would be right where they connected.
He pulled himself back slowly, teasing her entrance. When he plunged into her, there was a sharp intake of breath. And when she wrapped her arms around him, he began moving in and out of her, first slowly, pacing his movements, and gradually increasing in speed. Wet sounds of flesh meeting filled the room once again, faster and louder this time. Moving his lips from her left breast, his lips climbed towards her open lips, meeting them, more forcefully this time than the last. He continued to thrust into her while caressing her lips and tongue with his own; his own passion being met with her own and totally equaled. They were joined in any way possible, and their bodies melded as if one. It was like a dance, and like a battle, but of the passionate kind, of lovers: all contenders won.
“Diana,” he breathed into her ear, his cheek against hers.
“Oh, Gods… Kal...!”
Her breathing became erratic and so did his. He quickened his movements. Her nails raked on his back, scratching, leaving red trails on invulnerable steel, matching his rhythm, as she wrapped her legs around his waist, as if either to encourage him or to simply sate the need to hold on to him, to something, as she bucked uncontrollably under him.He could feel her blindingly reeling towards the edge. Hearing her moan his name between her desperate panting made him follow.
And she gasped her loudest, then she stiffened; he could feel her shudder beneath him, but the bite of her teeth on the space between his neck and shoulder – in an attempt to silence her own cry of pleasure – and the feeling of her arms tightening around him outweighed the sensation. If he was a lesser man, his ribcage could have broken from her hold.
But it was the warmth and wetness of her convulsing around him, the sensation of her massaging him that sent him over the edge, too, to follow her. With a final thrust, he groaned, and she could feel a hotness gushing inside of her, and him.
And when she came back down and when he did, he sank to the bed to her side, and they pulled themselves towards each other, embracing and quietly relishing in the afterglow.
They were facing each other, each with a tired smile on their faces. Their foreheads were touching, and their sapphire eyes cooling each other from the burn of their passion with simply a tender gaze.
“I missed you,” she whispered to him. There was still a trace of what had occurred a few moments before in her breathing.
“We were never away from each other, Di,” he teased, one brow higher than the other.
She slapped him softly on the chest. It was a gentle touch that he liked. “You know what I mean.”
He smiled. “I know.” He dropped a kiss on her nose. “I love you, too.”
She traced her fingers on the contours of his face. Her touch lingered on his lips, and then on his jawline. She really liked the beard. Now there was merely a subtle hint of a stubble. She smiled. Maybe next time if she gets the chance. Her eyes dropped on a bruise near his neck. Her fingers moved to it almost immediately.
“Oh, Clark, I’m sorry.”
He felt her agitation, and he caught her hand on his neck and smiled. “It’s fine. It’ll heal soon.” And playfully, “Besides, it was a favorite moment.”
“Clark!” She didn’t know whether she should be embarrassed or if she should be chuckling with him. Still, there was an unmistakable tinge of pink on her cheeks, whether from his remark or from before, she remained undecided.
The spark of playfulness in his eyes turned into fire. “Hmm,” he said, resting his chin between his index finger and thumb and brows creasing as if in serious thought as he looked to his side, “now that I think about it, I haven’t heard you speak in Ancient Greek yet for tonight.”
When he shifted his gaze back to her, she was willing to admit that the blush was from his remarks after all. Every time she spoke in her mother tongue in the throes of passion, he always brings it up afterwards, and for some reason, it always embarrasses her, too. She knows she shouldn’t be. And even with the lack of it now, he still managed to tease her about it. Clark himself couldn’t figure out why she felt embarrassed about it, but it was a part of Diana that made her adorable. He loved that part of her, too.
He smiled mischievously. “Well, you did call me Kal.”
“It’s not my fault you have so many names,” Diana retorted.
Clark only tightened his arms around her. He brushed his lips on her forehead. “Really?”
He chuckled. “Now, who said something about missing me?” He kissed her brow. “I think it was a very beautiful woman, the sexiest woman I have ever seen. I’m colleagues with her, you know. We see each other every day. We’ve known each other for, oh, I don’t know, some five years. Her name starts with a ‘D’ and ends with an ‘A’.”
Diana smiled. Clark can be so silly.
“Should I be?”
“Yes, you should be. In fact—” He kissed her cheek. “—I am actually thinking of asking her out to dinner some time soon.”
She laughed. She reached up and kiss the silly man on the lips. If Clark has someone, she has someone, too. “Well, someone also asked me out to dinner.”
“Yes,” she replied, her eyes twinkling with mischief, “in fact, I think I really like him. He has the bluest eyes, and he treats me really well: an equal. He has been a very good friend for, um, five years, was it? Plus, he can handle my punches.”
“He sounds handsome.”
She laughed. “Yes, he is. Oh, let me tell you: there was one time I saw him unshaven. I really liked the way he looked then. When I asked him to keep it, he actually did.”
Clark faked a serious look and said, looking at Diana straight in the eye, “You know what, Di, I think you really should stay away from that guy. I can’t believe he went to you unshaven! He sounds like a barbarian. I bet he looks like one, too.”
Diana laughed in his embrace. He loved the sound of her laughter.
He rested his forehead against hers once more. All suggestions of mischief disappeared. He kissed her on the lips again. “I can’t believe you really liked the beard.”
“Hmmhmm.” She kissed him back, briefly, a peck.
There was a silence that followed. He loved moments like this with her, and she with him. It was almost as if nothing else mattered, as if there were only two people in the world, as if there were no villains to fight or decisions to make. They were just there, just two people, finding themselves in the kind of an almost complete serenity that they could only find in each other. And as heroes, these moments were few and far between. Sometimes. But as lovers, every chance, they take.
“I love you, Clark, Kal,” Diana said, and her eyes were open, the color of the ocean boring into his soul.
He returned his gaze with the same affection and more. “Of course you do.” He lowered his lips to kiss her, but paused. “And Superman, too?”
She whispered, “Superman, too.”
“Even without the beard?”
She smiled. “Even without the beard.”
He pulled her closer and met her lips with his own. It started with a small spark, and then passion rekindled, until he rolled on the bed, and she was under him. His hands were at her sides, his legs between hers. He pulled back, but only after leaving her a little breathless, her breathing ragged, and her hair in a tangled mass. She looked absolutely breathtaking. He looked down at her eyes as she looked at him with the same tenderness and intensity, and in his eyes kindled a red flame, speaking his feelings for himself.
“You are beautiful, Kal.” She smiled at him, the sincere kind, expectant.
Of all the people in the world, only she called him beautiful.
“Did I say something about not hearing you speak in Ancient Greek yet for tonight?”
This time, she laughed.