Clark smiles at the accusation, and at the little duck of his head. Then his eyes are closing as leans back to let Bruce kiss him, tease him, love him with a poetry of his own. As Bruce goes lower, he groans, shifting at the intensity of sensation and there is not a power in the universe that could make him move his hands from behind his head. Not when Bruce is being so unrestrained in his affections, not when he has the most gorgeously erotic view he's ever had. And Rao help him, he's almost shaking as Bruce seats himself. He can't hold still, though; Bruce can certainly feel it as his hips rock unconsciously a few moments after Bruce takes him in.

"You feel so good," slips out of him like a moan. His eyes slip open and he gives Bruce a smile. "Lucky for your balance too."

The cot IS small, after all.