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He should feel guilty.
Something like this would ruin an alpha’s reputation if it were to get out. Giggles would follow them through rooms, sneering smirks and sly snorts would haunt their conscience until they’d be a broken shell of what was. Their inner alphas would turn on them, and the shame would send them into an inescapable depression.
At least for a typical alpha.
Whatever the case may be, the masquerade of an Alpha is pathetic at best. At least in Bruce’s eyes.
He knows what they really want. Deep down, even the most powerful yearn to be dominated and taken. It started with fellow omegas- until his taste intensified. His past rendezvous with alphas ended with sneaky digits, premature knotting, and newfound desires. It was a known secret that Brucie liked to partake in such activities, but nobody with pride would admit to it, and Bruce never kissed and told.
When his relationship with Clark Kent was publicized, those who knew about his past proclivities could not pretend to snicker, for then they’d be scrutinized themselves.
Taking an alpha gives Bruce a thrill he can’t seem to find anywhere else. Taking the self-appointed leaders of society and breaking them down until they’re nothing but clenches and whimpers fulfills his unorthodox desires. The more powerful the alpha, the more exciting.
Even now, shivering and gushing with the most powerful alpha on the planet, he’s floating on Cloud 9.
————————————————————
Everyone knows of Superman. Some are aware of Kal-El. Few know Clark.
The Man of Steel, The Last Son of Krypton, Earth’s Champion.
If only they could see him now, on his back, snapping his teeth at his omega. However, that back is arched, that big knot is currently useless, and his hole is filled. Panting, shaking. He truly is Bruce’s perfect Alpha.
Bruce almost wishes he didn’t have the silicone around himself, but he knows his omegan penis won’t satisfy his dumb needy alpha the way he deserves to be.
“Does it feel good, baby?” he cooed, greedily taking in the sight of his alpha’s flushed chest and dripping cock. A roll of his hips renders his poor mate speechless, a squeeze of his muscular thighs causing a choked gasp.
Bruce ignores his slick dripping down his thighs, lifting his hand to grasp the massive knot presented before him. The thigh that ceremoniously falls down sends a slight disappointment through him, knowing his mate must’ve felt so much tighter after that.
Gently shushing his alpha, who can’t decide between growling and moaning, he tightens his grip as much as possible, settling the dilemma with a piercing wail of pleasure. He would’ve been thrown off by the bucking if he didn’t incorporate that special blue gem they both love in the bedroom. On his neck, it was a beautiful contrast to reddened chest.
Bruce almost wishes he had a third arm to grab onto those perked nipples. Would they leak sweet milk? He’d lap it up so quickly he wouldn’t have time to be surprised. A shiver rolls down his spine at the impossible thought of his alpha carrying his child. He’d go out and protect Gotham, protect the Earth, protect his alpha. People would wonder where Superman went, but Batman would make it all better.
He can’t, of course. He wouldn’t be fast enough. Ugh, even during sex, he can’t help but to be a contrarian.
He’s finally snapped from his thoughts when his alpha wiggles under him, nudging him to move. Wet eyes blink up at him, causing another round of cooing. He gently strokes a thigh as he slowly slides out, a hitched breath blessing his ears.
Removing the straps from his hips, he’s about to stand up and place the contraption into the sanitation bucket nearby when it’s suddenly taken from him and shot into the bucket with terrifying precision by his once-again revved-up lover. He’s almost tempted to make a basketball joke. Not the time, but he can’t help it. He could be in the throes of pleasure, and his mind would still wander.
“Sit,” a gruff plea disguised as a command.
“Oh, back to the basics now, are we?” Bruce teased, but wasted no time guiding his alpha’s cock into his pussy, a full-body shiver rendering him still once he’s fully sheathed. He’s flexible. He can do both. They both love it.
Grabbing the chest under him, he gleefully squeezes as he bounces and grinds on the hot rod he’s speared upon. It’s his turn to whine and moan as his cunt is stretched, busy perverted hands groping his man.
“I won’t last very long, Clarkie,” he purred in his Brucie voice, before being temporarily jolted into the air by his alpha’s lifting hips. Bruce giggles. For all that talk about Brucie being an annoying airhead, Clark sure loves fucking him…and being fucked by him.
The thought is enough to send him over the edge, tilting his head back and notifying the world of his alpha’s competence.
Lowering his torso to kiss Clark, he knows his mate can feel his smirk as a throbbing knot cements him in place.
“Fuck, Bruce…that was amazing,” Clark gasped out.
“Another performance well done. I love making you curse.”
“And I love you.”
Bruce smiled.
“I love you too, alpha.”