Bruce gradually caught his breath and stared at Clark. Yes, he saw the smile, saw the bright blue of Clarks' eyes and knew, but he- wasn't really thinking. Some track in his brain running on autopilot, processing it and almost recording for further review but there wasn't a whole lot of conscious, deliberated, thought happening in the moment.

He shuddered hard, gulped air and then.

And then he answered the question not verbally or lovingly but in the way he'd been trained to answer it - not trained by Clark, but from his life to this point.

He peeled his lips back away from his teeth in a snarl, and fought. Fought Clark's grip on him, fought away from the wall, fought to get closer and just generally tried to make things happen. Didn't just ask for more or for Clark to come to him but came damned near breaking his own wrists to make that happen for himself.