He was asleep, his reading glasses drooped on his nose. Clark reached over, pulled them gently off of his face, and put it over onto the dresser. The book hadn't even made it into his hands but he put Bruce's hands back together in the antigrav field so he could cradle him properly.

Bruce had his own book but he never read the book when Bruce was asleep. Instead, he laid down beside Bruce and watched him, running his hands up and down the other man's arms, his chest, along his sides. There was a feel to a touch, something unique and special, when it came to every single person. Every person was an experience and Bruce...

He'd take every bit of Bruce he could get.