Clark didn't know how long they kissed. Clark's perception of time had gone straight to hell and with everything going on in his head, the overarching fear ripped away with clawing hands and harsh yanks of hair and snarling growls. Unrestrained, unused to restraint anymore, he took and Bruce bled and they kissed and scrounged and clung to one another under the spray.

He was nowhere else but here. He never wanted to be anywhere else but here.

He'd never look at a mark on Bruce that he'd made as anything less than a gift, given to him by Bruce himself and the universe at large. He'd never miss the chance to pull Bruce out of his own head, hold him close and light him up inside.

Every time. Every time.