Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/866170.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Superman_-_All_Media_Types, Man_of_Steel_(2013), Smallville
  Relationship:
      Clark_Kent/Original_Male_Character
  Character:
      Clark_Kent, Original_Male_Character(s)
  Additional Tags:
      Bondage, Mirror_Sex, Costume_Kink, Secret_Relationship, Superhero_Fetish,
      Cosplay, Puns_&_Word_Play, Bad_Jokes, Established_Relationship, Plot_What
      Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Irony, I_REGRET_NOTHING
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-07-05 Words: 2904
****** O Captain! My Captain! ******
by Leafling
Summary
     Colin has a superhero fetish. Clark obliges.
Notes
     Captain Incredible and everything else that's unrecognizable is that
     way for a reason... I made that shit up for the sake of this story.
     Happy Fourth, everyone!
Clark arrives at Colin’s house at half-past four. His aunt’s not home and
neither is her fiancé; Clark finds this out when he knocks several times and no
one answers. Colin is notorious for his bad hearing; Clark knows that even if
he rings the doorbell, the other won’t be able to hear him.
It’s cold outside; the ground is ashen from freshly fallen snow. Not that the
temperature bothers Clark—he knows that Colin has this thing about leaving his
window open, especially when it starts snowing; something about collecting
snowflakes on his windowsill.
Clark walks around the side of the house, trying not to look suspicious with
his hands in his pockets as he surveys the area for onlookers. Standing
underneath Colin’s window, he strains his hearing to figure out whether or not
the teen’s in his bedroom. When he hears nothing, Clark furrows his brows.
At this rate, Clark’s going to be standing out here all day; or at least until
Colin’s aunt gets back.
Deciding he likes neither of those options, Clark makes the daring decision to
climb through Colin’s window. It barely takes a minute to do, all things
considered, but Clark still is wary of witnesses and closes the window as soon
as he’s in.
Toeing off his boots because he knows how Colin’s aunt is about guests wearing
shoes in the house, Clark looks around the room while he waits for Colin to
appear from wherever he’s gone. Colin’s walls are covered with clippings of
comic books—correction, not comic books, a comic book; his favorite comic book
of them all, "The incredible adventures of Captain Incredible."
Clark isn’t the biggest fan of Captain Incredible (or any comic books really)
but he knows a lot more about the renowned superhero than he would like to
thanks to Colin and his obsessive devotion to the series. From lunchboxes to
figurines and t-shirts; Colin had more Captain Incredible memorabilia than most
kids had clothes.
When Clark was first invited into Colin’s room, he was somewhat disturbed by it
all. Only somewhat because after Colin locked the door behind them, he pounced
on Clark and the two of them went tumbling to his bed—which, surprisingly,
didn’t have Captain Incredible on it.
Afterwards, he really didn’t give any of the keepsakes a second-thought. He
couldn’t actually because it didn’t take long for his mind to become
preoccupied with the fact that, wow, he’s never gotten head before!
Clark paces around Colin’s room for the moment. Passing Colin’s desk twice,
Clark can’t help but notice that, underneath piles of text books and trash,
there are heartfelt letters to and from Colin’s younger brother and sister.
Colin usually never talks about them past basic information: their names are
Georgina and Will; they’re twelve and nine; and they live in Metropolis with
Colin’s estranged father and his second family since their aunt didn’t have the
means to take them in.
Without fully reading the letter, Clark can make out that Colin has agreed to
visit them during the summertime. Clark feels his skin prickle with anger
because why hasn’t Colin told him about this trip yet? He decides, however,
that maybe it wouldn’t be best to bring it up to the other teen because he’s
not supposed to know about it in the first place.
Turning his attention to Colin’s closet, Clark finds that the door has been
left ajar and the clothing within has been disheveled; it’s a departure from
the usual state of organization. Clark wonders if it’s because Colin’s been
packing for his trip, but there are no bags half-stuffed with clothing to
support his theory.
Clark perks up when he hears the bathroom door open, followed by the sound of
footsteps proceeding up the hallway towards the room. Colin’s footfall is
different than usual; it’s lighter and more practiced than normal. Clark
wonders why Colin is sneaking around in his own house when the door is gently
pushed open.
Clark’s eyes widen as he stares at Colin in the doorway. He can’t decide
whether to be shocked or not.
Colin’s mouth twitches as though he’s blushing; Clark can’t really tell because
Colin’s wearing a black cat-burglar mask that covers a good majority of his
eyes and cheeks.
Out of all the things you could catch someone doing, and out of all the things
you could catch someone doing that is awkward; Clark doesn’t know where to
place finding Colin dressed as his beloved superhero.
Colin, true to Captain Incredible’s costume, is clad virtually from head-to-
foot in a form-fitting, intricately designed black and white nylon-bodysuit
that’s embellished with the insignia of Captain Incredible, a pair flimsy-
looking knee high boots that look better suited for a stripper than a crime
fighter, a chunky utility belt hanging from his hips, and of course the plat de
résistance, a shiny black mantle that hung from one shoulder. His hair is
parted to the side, shiny from gel, styled in a way that defied gravity. The
area around his eyes where the mask doesn’t cover is painted black.
He certainly looks like Captain Incredible… well, a tiny, skinny,
unintimidating Captain Incredible, but the point still stands.
Colin feels Clark’s eyes giving him the once over; he fidgets embarrassedly.
"Well? How do I look?" He asks when he finds his voice. Turning around to give
Clark a full view of his costume, his voice almost cracks when he speaks. "Is
it good? I mean, it’s still a work in progress; I haven’t finished the utility
belt or the accents on the cape—"
Colin’s babbling. Clark interrupts him by taking his hand and leading him to
the mirror, where they both stand and stare at Colin’s nearly complete costume.
Colin’s flush stains the uncovered portions of his face. He avoids eye contact
with his own reflection and Clark. He barely catches Clark’s appreciative
smile, "you look… incredible."
Colin doesn’t know if the pun is intentional; it makes him laugh regardless.
"Really," he asks hopefully. Relaxing visibly, Colin finally looks at himself.
He finds that it’s not that bad; in fact, it actually looks fucking incredible,
as Clark so aptly put it.
Turning side to side to really take in the full effect of the costume—the
contrasting shine of the white material against the matte of the black creating
an illusion that he had a sleek frame; the way the fabric hugged his wiry frame
like a second-skin, it looked as good as it felt.
Colin grins from ear-to-ear. Shrugging his cape off his arm and watching how
the fabric flutters as it settles behind him, Colin meets Clark’s eyes through
the mirror. "I feel fucking… super." He announces still sounding like he's in
awe. “My aunt says that clothes don’t make the man, but… damn, I feel like I
can move mountains.”
Clark laughs incredulously. "Move mountains? You’ll freeze if you go outside
like that."
"Shh, you’re ruining my moment." Colin chides, though his tone lacks any heat.
Following the thick red seams that serve as a border between the two different
materials of his costume, Colin’s grin widens. “Come feel this. Isn’t it super
smooth?”
Clark lets out a longsuffering sigh. Crossing the divide between them, he
reaches out a tentative hand and rolls his eyes when Colin takes said hand and
pulls it to him.
Clark has to admit, the fabric underneath his fingertips is soft despite the
scaly-decal. Smoothing his hands out along Colin’s sides as he too becomes
distracted by the rubber closures of the costume, Clark feels Colin’s dull
nails press in his wrist hard.
Through the mirror, their eyes meet; the heated look Colin fixes Clark with has
the larger teen hardening in his jeans.
Colin’s tugging Clark’s hand down until together they relieve Colin of his
utility belt. It slips from his narrow hips without much of a fight.
CLUNK! It hits the floor with a deafening thud.
The tension in the air is palpable. Colin breathes deeply as he fights to keep
eye contact with Clark. “This is going to sound totally weird... but... I’m
incredibly turned on, right now.”
Well, this escalated quickly...
Clark clears his throat before he speaks, "you… want to have sex in-costume?"
Colin flushes. How come it didn’t sound as absurd when he was thinking about
it? Pressing his forehead against the chilled glass, he stares down at his
feet. "Hey, if YOU have any weird, kinky sex-fantasies I’m all ears."
Clark rakes his fingers through his hair, exhaling deeply because he knows he
can’t say no. At least, not when Colin’s dressed like he is.
When Clark steps in closer, Colin spreads his legs and damn it if it isn’t the
most tempting thing Clark’s ever seen.
Colin sighs heavily against the mirror, warm breath fogging up the glass. His
eyes flutter as he feels Clark pulling his tight black pants down his thighs.
The nylon is too tight to yank down so Clark peels it off slowly. Too
slowly.Almost as though he’s unwrapping a present.
Colin stops breathing altogether when Clark pushes his upper body flat against
the glass. Clark’s familiar weight and the cold of the mirror making his skin
prickle with goosebumps.
Hot hands roam his body; smoothing out the wrinkles in the fabric that covers
his lower abdomen, making him shudder as Colin eagerly anticipates what they’ll
do next.
Clark digs his fingers between the subtle dips in Colin’s abdominal muscles,
making the teen squirm all the more before he lifts the material altogether to
caress the skin that lay beneath.
Colin’s stomach is smooth, but as Clark’s fingers travel downward he feels the
beginnings of fine hair. He stops short of Colin’s erection in favor of teasing
the sensitive skin around it. Colin breathes heavily.
Pressing closer to the unyielding mirror, he closes his eyes and rocks his hips
urgently against Clark’s hands; willing the other to do something.
His impatience leads Clark to continue his touches elsewhere. Colin whimpers
but doesn’t object because Clark’s hands are snaking their way up his
diaphragm. When he receives a sharp pinch to both of his nipples, Colin
shudders and wriggles against Clark. This abuse continues until Colin’s nipples
are thoroughly hard, chaffing against the fabric of his top as Clark removes
his hands; the friction sending little shocks of pleasure up his spine.
Colin’s leaking pre-cum. It’s trailing down his leg, pooling in the fabric
bunched around his thighs. He knows it’s going to stain if he doesn’t attend to
it immediately. However, despite how much effort went into making the getup;
Colin finds that he doesn’t really care if it’s dirtied by this tryst. Even if
it means ruining expensive material, Colin wants some sort of proof that he got
Clark to fuck him while he was in his Captain Incredible costume.
Clark unbuckles his belt loudly, knowing that the sound puts Colin on alert. He
also knows that the teen can’t anticipate what he’s going to do next. This in
mind, Clark pulls the belt free from its loops and quickly captures both of
Colin’s arms. Before the teen can fully comprehend what’s happening, Clark
secures the belt around his wrists.
Colin’s pressing uncomfortably against the glass because he can longer hold
himself up. His eyes fly open. So close to the mirror all he can see is
himself; the look of raw lust in his eyes. Colin gasps.
Clark pulls the belt tighter to make sure there isn’t any slack; the leather
almost cuts into Colin’s skin. Clark knows he can always pull it tighter—that
Colin wouldn't fuss or resist because he has a thing for being tied up—but
Clark is nothing if not careful and resolves not to bruise Colin anymore than
absolutely necessary.
Colin’s heart is beating so hard that Clark can hear it; can feel the slighter
teen’s pulse pounding as he holds onto the belt with one hand and rubs
teasingly at the inside of Colin’s thigh with the other. The staccato rhythm
would almost be alarming if Clark wasn't so used to the sound.
Colin can see that Clark is moving in his peripheral vision, but he can’t look
away from his own eyes. When Clark presses a slick finger inside of Colin
without warning, it catches the slighter teen completely off-guard. His body
stretches to accommodate the intrusion within; it isn't anything he isn't used
to by now, but Colin squirms all the same when he feels Clark tease at his
prostate. Panting as Clark’s sly finger edges around his sweet spot, Colin
grits his teeth. He wants to whine—to tell Clark to stop messing around—but
Clark doesn’t let him give him the chance to.
Pressing two more fingers inside, Clark revels in Colin’s steady stream of
fragmented pleas. Since no one else is home, Clark takes his time drawing this
out.
Gripping Colin by his hip with his free hand, Clark presses down until Colin’s
whole torso is pressed against the mirror. Colin lets out a long hissing moan
as the entire length of his cock meets the cold glass, smearing the reflective
surface with pearlescent fluid. Colin’s hands flex into fists behind his back;
his whole body pulsating as he struggles against his bindings.
Clark twists and fucks his fingers into Colin with practiced precision;
stretching Colin and pleasuring him at the same time without over doing it.
Colin can barely see. His eyes are filled with tears that haven’t yet made it
over his waterline. He can’t blink them away; can’t blink at all because he
doesn’t want to miss a moment of what’s happening.
When Clark’s fingers assault his prostate all at once, the trance Colin has
himself in breaks and he’s scrunching his eyes closed before he can stop
himself. A shrill sound escapes him as those unshed tears finally stream down
the corners of his eyes, mixing in with the black maquillage he’s wearing,
leaving dark streaks on his mask.
Clark doesn’t let up. Pulling his fingers out only a fraction of an inch, he
drives them back in punishingly. Each thrust driving Colin closer to his end.
He’s getting louder and louder, his breath becoming harder and harder to catch.
Even with his eyes closed, Colin still sees a dizzying array of colors dancing
in his vision. He feels like he’s losing his mind.
Clark removes his fingers altogether right when Colin feels as though he’s
going to come. Shushing the slighter teen when he sobs his protest, Clark pulls
Colin’s hips back towards him. Colin shifts against the mirror. By then, the
glass is dirty and ruined; too murky to see through. Colin is unable to see any
more than his and Clark’s silhouettes.
Clark takes advantage of this. He breaches Colin when the slighter teen stops
bracing for it, and doesn’t give him a chance to get accustom to the intrusion
as he grips Colin’s hip tight and sets a hard pace. He wraps the belt taut
around his other hand to keep Colin’s arms completely immobilized.
Pain blossoms where Clark’s holding his hip, numbness seizing Colin's arms as
the belt constricts the flow of blood to his fingers. No matter how
uncomfortable it feels, however, it pales in comparison to the overwhelming
pleasure that he’s drowning in.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Colin knows he’ll be bruised when everything
is said and done. He doesn't cares. He'll wear the bruises like badges of
honor, Colin thinks.
Clark’s hand releases his hip, moving instead to grip Colin’s thigh. Colin is
given no warning before Clark lifts his leg and presses his knee hard into the
wall; spreading Colin wider and offering Clark a better angle to fuck him at. A
new pace follows this change of position; it rougher and faster than before.
Colin’s body is singing with pleasure. He doesn’t know how much more he can
take. Clark can tell that Colin’s on the edge. Pressing his lips to the shell
of Colin’s ear, he purrs, “Captain.”
A broken sound that’s not quite Clark’s name tears itself from Colin’s throat.
He comes all over his mirror, vision going dark as he loses it.
Colin rouses when Clark moves him to the bed. There’s a towel laid out over the
sheets; Colin doesn’t try to give it a second-thought as he lets Clark pull the
rest of his costume off. Colin's exhausted and sore, his body seeming to buzz
all over. Ahh, this is satisfaction.
As soon as Clark is done tending to him, Colin curls up on the bed like a
contented cat. Clark joins him soon after. Nuzzling against Colin's back, he
breathes in the other's scent. “So... when were you going to tell me about your
superhero fetish?" Clark asks right when Colin's on the verge of drifting off.
The slighter teen startles a bit, not expecting Clark to speak. When he
settles, Colin chuckles tiredly, "well, technically, it's a costume fetish
since superheroes aren't real. And even if they were, even if Madam Cross came
onto me," Colin interrupts himself with a yawn, "I think I'd still have to
stick with my mild-mannered country boy..."
Clark smirks against the nape of Colin's neck. "I'm that much better?"
Colin nods, "of course... I don't think I could deep-throat anyone who's got
superhuman strength... I can barely manage you, as is."
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