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Summary
“Clark,” Bruce says in alarm, wary at the unusual sight of him.
He’s unable to recall a moment where he witnessed Clark stumble, yet here he trips over his own feet like a newborn doe. He’s in complete disarray, his clothes frumpy and glasses askew. Hands claw at Clark’s shirt collar like he can’t breathe, his throat a blotchy, deep crimson mess.
Clark goes into heat.
