[Comprehensive British and American] Bats never lose their horses

"Snapped"

With difficulty, Clark pressed a switch on the wall with his elbow and turned on the living room light.

Bruce in his arms was still sleeping soundly.

The head of the black-haired Omega rested on his shoulder, even breathing evenly.

Clark puts Bruce on his bed and helps him take off his shoes and coat—it's really not easy, Bruce's sleep is so bad that Clark has to take a lot of hard kicks to succeed.Then he turned around and went to the kitchen to pour a glass of water. When he came back, he was not surprised to see that someone had rolled to the ground, and his favorite blanket was still on the ground.

"...just like a child."

Clark looked at Bruce angrily and amusedly, picked up the drunk who was as soft as a bone from the ground, forcefully poured him two sips of water, although most of it spilled out, and then half hugged and half hugged him The man was carried back to the bed.

After doing all this, he straightened up and looked around.

The sofa in the one-person apartment was pitifully small, and Clark really didn't want to sleep on it.

So he lay down next to Bruce with peace of mind.

It's his own bed anyway, so what does it matter, he thought.

But Clark was not used to the feeling of being surrounded by more people. He tossed and turned for more than two hours, and the hour hand pointed to the early morning, but he still couldn't fall asleep.

In the end, he simply gave up, and just opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling in a daze.

Until a slight sound sounded from beside him.

Clark came back to his senses, he turned sideways, and asked softly, "Bruce, are you awake?"

But he didn't get a response for a long time.

Clark frowned, propped up half of his body, turned over Bruce who was curled up beside the bed, and found that the other party seemed to be haunted by something.

The black-haired Omega closed his eyes tightly, hugged Clark's blanket tightly in his arms, his back was stretched into a bow, his brows were tightened, his mouth was slightly opened, his chest was heaving up and down violently, and he was desperately panting like he lacked oxygen.

"Bruce? Bruce!"

Clark called him several times but there was no response. Bruce's face was pale, his forehead was covered with hair wet with cold sweat, and his whole body seemed to be fished out of the water.

Something is wrong.

Clark sniffed the gradually increasing concentration of pheromones in the air, and suddenly came up with a thought: Bruce, he could be... didn't take the inhibitor, right?

Although the interval between marked Omega crazes will be greatly extended, it is even likely that no related symptoms will appear for two or three years.

But the premise is that he has a regular schedule, good health and mental stability.

Obviously, none of these blues are relevant.

Clark pursed his lips, looking at the person lying next to him smelling like a ghost with a ghostly face, and for the first time felt angry with Bruce from the bottom of his heart.

——How could he not cherish his body so much? !

"I finally know why Martha is so angry every time Jonathan goes out drinking."

He muttered, leaning over, ready to deepen the mark to make the other person feel better, but he overheard Bruce's dream talk:

"Jason, no..."

Who is Jason?

Clark froze for a moment, and then his heart sank slowly.

He remembered.

When Batman lost Robin, Zhenglian hadn't been established yet. The unpleasantness they had when they first met was largely due to Batman's poor state.But Clark didn't remember until today that Jason is also Bruce's adopted son.

On the day Batman lost Robin, Bruce also lost his son.

Clark thought he probably understood why Bruce was so weird today.

It should be that after seeing Damian, he fell in love with the scene.

The little reporter carefully hugged Bruce into his arms, let him rest on his lap, and imitated Martha's position of coaxing him to sleep, and patted him on the back twice.

Bruce frowned slightly.

But still closed his eyes tightly, did not wake up.

His subconscious mind told himself that he was safe, that Batman was on vacation today, and the only thing he wanted to do was to drink a few glasses of wine and forget everything about Gotham for a while.

But damn it, he wouldn't let him go even in his dreams.

"I'd rather die than me," Bruce murmured unconsciously.

Clark's movements jerked.

He lowered his head, watching the eyes of the person in his arms gradually changed, becoming gentle and sad.

"No, Bruce," he said softly, "no one deserves a damn. I'm sorry I wasn't there before, but this time, Superman will protect you."

This "you" includes Batman, Robin, Bruce and Alfred.

After speaking, he pulled away Bruce's neckline and bit the gland on the side of his neck.The tingling sensation spread throughout the body like lightning, followed by another tingling feeling on the scalp. The fusion of marked AO pheromones was like the most beautiful spark collision. The black-haired Omega grunted, hard/ He struggled patiently twice, but was quickly suppressed by Clark with superhuman strength, and the hand around Bruce's back became more and more forceful.

at this time.

Bruce's eyelids trembled, as if he was about to wake up, but the moment he opened his eyes, the original clarity was replaced by another force in the dark, making him fall into a semi-coma status.

His cheeks were still flushed, his head hung weakly on Clark's shoulders, and he called softly:

"Carl."

Clark wasn't surprised that Bruce would know the name, it wasn't a secret, a lot of people knew it.

He just doesn't understand why Bruce suddenly calls himself, or rather, Superman.

But Bruce yelled again quickly.

Over and over again, from light to heavy, from fast to slow, as stubborn as if wanting to melt this name on the lips and carve it into the flesh and blood:

"Kal, Kal-El..."

Clark looked at him helplessly.

When they were Superman, except for that time in the Avengers Building, they had no interaction at all, but Bruce even talked about him when he was talking in his sleep... The chairman of the alliance thought guilty, could it be that the recent alliance suffered too much damage? High, causing Wayne Group cash flow difficulties?

But B didn't mention it at the meeting either.

After thinking about it again and again, Clark decided not to argue with a drunk.

"Bruce," he puffed up his chest slightly, replied in Superman's usual voice, and boldly reached out to touch the head of the person in his arms, anyway, these Bruce will not remember when he wakes up, "Relax a little, take a good rest .”

Bruce's lips twitched, and finally fell silent.

Clark breathed a sigh of relief, and just as he was about to put him back on the bed, he heard a heavy sigh in his ear.

Immediately, a drop of ice fell on the back of Clark's hand.

Bruce... crying?

Now, Clark was really at a loss.

Bruce fell into his arms, his eyes closed tiredly, his voice was intermittent, weak and indistinct.

Like a message from another world.

"Carl, you won."

"I love you."

"……Just kill me."

Bruce didn't know how much the sleep talk he unconsciously said had shocked Clark.

But when he sat up from the bed clutching his hangover head the next day, he found that the little reporter who was supposed to go to work was huddled on the sofa, with a pale complexion and empty eyes, staring blankly at the Snowflake's TV was in a daze.

Like big mushrooms that only grow moldy in the corners.

Bruce was a little amused, he walked over and patted Clark on the shoulder: "Hey!"

Unexpectedly, the little reporter jumped up from the sofa instantly like a frightened quail, and uttered a high-pitched cry in horror: "I... I didn't do anything!"

"No one said what you did," Bruce frowned suspiciously, "What happened to you today? You were startled." Through his clothes, he touched the glands on his neck and said clearly, " You darkened the mark? No wonder."

Clark nodded casually.

His eyes wandered around the room for a while, and his two big hands, which had no place to rest, went in and out of his pockets repeatedly. Finally, he finally gave up on himself and said, "I'll go to the kitchen to make you breakfast."

Bruce looked at the back of the little reporter who was running away, and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

Something odd, he thought.