He doesn't think he has ever wanted anything more in his life. All it takes, all it takes, is Clark issuing him that invitation and breath against his skin and possibilities are flickering through his mind. He can even feel the ghost of those possibilities in his skin.

His breathing is too shallow and fast. His pulse sounds loud in his ears, even if it can't pick up the way it should and his entire body is aching for what Clark's offering. Desire thick in his throat and strangling him and -

"Clark."

He can even rationalize it. Think of ways it might be good for Clark, right now. Learning to control himself (does he even really want Clark to control himself - no), having someone trust him.

He's being played. He knows he's being played. That should matter to him more than it does. He's like some kind of addict with his fix in reach. He leans back, pushes back hard, trying to make Clark give him something.

"We're going to regret this."