Clark's release stung, but it also soothed. It mirrored and echoed his tongue licking away the blood from the bite mark he'd left in skin, and even the few kisses against the other side of his throat. The steady rise and fall of Clark's breathing, the warmth where they touched....

If this were a normal night (day), he'd get restless, start trying to move on and just move in fairly short order. Lingering with someone inside him wasn't... something he usually did, even with Clark. Today was different. They had needed this. He needed to love Clark and believe he was back.

So today he simply rested, caught his breath, let his pulse slow and let himself be held. Kept Clark in him, and counted the beats of Clark's heart - and felt the rough scratch of his beard, and counted it as one more bit of evidence that Clark was back home.