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    Summary

    "You want to fuck me," Bruce says, crude. He looks away as Kal's eyes start to widen. "To… to get me pregnant, put your eggs in me. Your robot told me."

    Sol isn't there to correct him. Bruce doesn't bother with the semantics anyway. It's much too late for that.

    "It'll fix you," he whispers instead, voice quiet with his lover.

    "I do…?" Kal asks breathlessly.

    For some reason, he looks at Bruce as if he has gifted him his soul. As if the declaration only sounds entirely right to him, though Bruce is sure he hadn't even had an inkling of the thought before this moment. He has such a bright look in his eye that Bruce is being burned by it.

    It's as if, when granted the idea that he and Bruce will start a family, it is the only correct answer in his brain. It makes Bruce pull his hand from Kal's, clinging onto the way his palm cools down as if it's a penance for the half-lie.

    "Mm." Bruce pauses only for a moment. "I want that. If you're ready."

    ---

    Or, Kal-El has imprinted on someone, and will die if he doesn't find a host for his eggs.

    Bruce won't let that happen no matter the cost.

    Language:
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