Sparring Session (Patreon)

This was a story commission for one of the top tier patrons - hope you all enjoy!

Things hadn’t exactly been stress-free in Metropolis as of late. Clark was thankful that he didn’t require much sleep or rest to operate because the recent crime spree was keeping him busy at all hours of the day. The consequences of a prison breakout in nearby Gotham City had flood through the City of Tomorrow and Superman found himself rounding up Batman’s problems, something which was only exaggerated by the fact that Bruce was off somewhere in Asia on a mission and had left behind Nightwing and Robin to protect Gotham. Dick and Tim were fine young men but even they struggled to contain the madness of Gotham. Thankfully the Justice League were on hand to help out so the burden was shared among them, although it led to quite a few weary faces every time the emergency alarm rang.

Arthur Curry, better known to the world as Aquaman, had recently returned to the Justice League’s base of operations in Metropolis after dealing with a situation in Gotham’s waters. He was pumped up with adrenaline and seeking a way to get some of it out which was what brought him to the advanced training gym that the League’s heroes made regular use of. Burning the midnight oil, Clark had chosen to do much the same after dropping off a few more criminals in cells at Metropolis’ police department, and was delighted to see his teammate join him.

“Bruce better hurry back or I’m gonna flood Gotham’s streets just to clean them up a bit,” Arthur grunted, his lips pulled into a smirk as he rolled his broad shoulders. 

Clark chuckled and shook his head. “Now, now, Arthur. I know Gotham’s hardly the finest place but we promised Bruce we’d keep it in one piece,” he reminded the other, ever the diplomat of the Justice League. With so many egos and hot-headed tempers populating the team there needed to be somebody who was good at keeping the peace and that role naturally fell to Clark, not that he had any issue with it.

“Hmph, I suppose we did. Now how do you feel about sparring with me, Superman? I’ve got to work out some of this tension or I’ll never sleep,” the bronzed king of the seas suggested. He stripped out of his shirt, leaving his tattooed chest with its cobblestone abs and meaty pectoral muscles on display. 

Clark considered the offer for a moment before shrugging and accepting. While they both knew that Superman was physically stronger than Aquaman, there was still some fun to be had in a good grapple if Clark pulled his punches a little. Besides, it wasn’t often that the two heroes had the chance to spend time together that wasn’t during the middle of a battle against some supervillain or other, so it offered that chance too.

The two paced around each other for some thirty seconds, each trying to find an opening and work out a plan of attack, before they finally charged and met in a collar-and-elbow tie-up. At the moment of impact the lights in the room seemed to flash massively brighter for all of a second before returning to their normal levels. Both heroes were quick to dismiss it as an electrical oddity and thought nothing more of it as they began grappling for control, Clark soon managing to flip Arthur over his hip and pin him against the ground.

“I’m playing nice and light, by the way,” the Kryptonian teased, a playful grin decorating his boyish good looks. “Wouldn’t want an army of Atlanteans chasing me down for breaking their king.” Anybody who liked to say that Superman didn’t have a sense of humour was straight up wrong. Clark could have just as much fun as the next superhero, thank you very much.

Arthur was quick to take advantage of Clark’s temporary distraction though, tugging on the other’s short hair to help him reverse momentum and force Superman onto his back. “I’ll try and not give Lois any reason to complain too,” he fired back, flashing his own confident smirk down at the Man of Steel.

The two superheroes continued to tumble on the mats for a further ten minutes, working up a light sweat as control alternated between the two. At various points one would end up on their back with the other straddling his waist and wearing a victorious expression, only to have the balance shift in the other’s favor. It was a cat-and-mouse game they rather enjoyed playing and as their strong masculine bodies were pressed up against each other with increasing frequency it was therefore unsurprising that both men found themselves tenting their pants with rock-hard arousal. Clark was quite comfortable not addressing the matter at hand but Arthur had other ideas.

“You might be stronger, Clark, but I daresay that I’m bigger where it counts,” he remarked, raising his eyebrows and grinning at his friend. A stunned laugh escaped Superman’s lips at that and once again Arthur used it to his advantage, getting Clark pinned down to the mat underneath him. “Gotcha.”

In a moment that surprised both men, Clark pushed himself up into a seated position and stole Arthur’s lips in a kiss. The lights in the room once again flashed brightly and as they pulled back, all Arthur could think about was how beautifully tanned Clark’s skin was. Similarly Clark found himself admiring the Atlantean’s ivory complexion, neither man recognizing that their own skin colours had reversed within a moment.

Their next kiss - lasting longer and feeling hungrier than the first - prompted Clark’s dark hair to gain golden streaks while it grew out and down around his shoulders. Arthur’s own flowing locks retreated towards his scalp, leaving him with short slick ebony hair. 

By their third kiss the two muscular men were all but grinding their bodies against each other, Arthur remaining on top as he pressed the bulge in his pants against Clark’s, a vulnerable whimper escaping the Man of Steel’s lips in response. During this their clothing changed: Clark’s torso being exposed to show off a heavily-inked chest while his blue tights turned emerald green and the iconic blue and red suit of Superman covering Arthur’s light skin while still highlighting his extreme musculature.

“We don’t tell Lois,” Clark grunted, moving his hands around to grab at the round globes of the other’s firm ass. “Or anyone.” Arthur moaned in what Clark understood to be agreement. “I want this… Fuck, I want it bad.” The curse rolled off of the normally well-mannered superhero’s tongue so naturally that he didn’t think twice about it. Indeed, he didn’t even notice how much deeper his voice sounded, nor the gravelly tone each word seemed to take on as it left his lips.

“So do I,” Arthur moaned in agreement, surging forward to steal another hungry kiss from the other’s lips. In the process their facial features shifted - Arthur’s jawline smoothing out and taking on a squarer appearance while Clark grew a beard along his own - until the two men had completely taken on each other’s physical appearances.

Clark stared up into his own face and saw only the ravenous eyes of a man desperate to have his way with him. He was just as confident in the knowledge that he wanted it too and without any hesitation, whispered a simple command: “Fuck me, Superman.” 

The two men tore off their costumes to allow skin to meet skin and their lips traveled indiscriminately across their bodies as they consumated the lust that had all too suddenly enveloped them. Neither chose to question it, they simply wanted to act upon the emotions and sensations that had gripped them and taken their minds hostage. After teasing and tormenting his way down the other’s beautiful bronze body, Arthur finally found his way in between Clark’s gorgeous cheeks and began to enter the Man of Steel, keeping him steady with a strong grip on the other man’s hips as Clark writhed in delight at his first time being fucked by another man. He wasn’t used to being submissive to another man’s control but he was most certainly enjoying the experience.

With each pump inside of the other their memories began to shift - Arthur remembering being raised on a farm by Martha and Jonathan Kent while Clark experienced being trained as a warrior in the open seas of Atlantis - and soon their powers followed suit, ultimately completing their exchange at the moment of climax. Both men shot their loads and in doing so sealed themselves in their new identities forever, their memories of being their true selves evaporating in every passing second.

The new Arthur Curry let out a deep laugh as his teammate and friend relaxed against his broad chest. “Quite the training session,” he mused, tracing his fingers up the other’s back. The new Clark Kent merely grunted in return and placed a kiss against the Atlantean king’s shoulder, feeling absolutely content and most certainly ready to rest, but not before he had vocalized the one thing that their encounter had made crystal clear to him:

“We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

Arthur quickly agreed.