Chapter Text
Kent Farm
Smallville, Kansas
April 1993
Clark had been finishing up his chores when he saw the root cellar door uncovered and open. A sinking feeling grew in the pit of his stomach, and he’d hoped he was wrong about who was down there.
But he hadn’t been. Ryan had found his secret, and Clark’s mind whirled. His surprise and confusion, the momentary flash of betrayal, must have shown on his face, because the terrified twelve-year-old had begged him not to be mad. Clark realized he did sound angry, and probably looked it, even though it was just his own fear coming through, and had done his best to reign it in. There was no way he could be seriously mad at the younger boy. It had only been a couple of days, but Ryan had grown on them all so much, like no one Clark had ever met. He was nervous and secretive, and yeah, maybe a bit ‘weird,’ but well-meaning, none of it hid his earnest heart, or the smile that lit up the room, or the look of faraway longing in his eyes that shone whenever they weren’t turned away in fear. It was like that line from an old Fred Astaire musical his parents loved – “there was something about this kid that made you want to protect him. For life.” – and it was true, but it was so much more than that.
And then Ryan had told him about how he could read minds. Just surface thoughts, those stray things that come and go through people’s minds, whatever they’re thinking in the moment. But he couldn’t read Clark at all, which was how he’d known the teenager was different, and seeing the spaceship, now he knew why.
The boy had promised never to tell, and Clark had said it wasn’t that simple. Ryan’s desperation had made him ache inside, and the boy’s teary confessions – from his bearer’s death to why he was running, and from whom, and what they’d done to him -- did rouse the Superboy’s anger. The tall, broad-shouldered teen had balled his fist, fingernails digging into his palm, and shoved it into his coat pocket to hold on to his control. He’d wanted nothing more than to find Ryan’s stepfather and put an end to all the boy’s pain.
“You have to protect me, Clark,” Ryan had pleaded, while tears spilled down his freckled cheeks. “You’re the only who can.”
It was then that Clark had pulled Ryan into a hug, holding him close, tucked under one strong arm, while the boy cried softly, finally letting go of everything he had bottled up since arriving in Smallville. If Clark hadn’t already come to think of the kid as a little brother that first day he’d spent at the farm, that moment would have sealed the deal. Clark had felt it from Ryan the moment they’d met, and even without being able to ‘read’ him, Ryan had felt the same from the older boy. Their emotions, desires, and deepest wishes were reflections – Clark’s need to care, Ryan’s longing for family and love – they were each a mirror into the other’s soul that no telepathy or any superpower could equal.
Clark rubbed Ryan’s shoulder, gently reassuring him. Moments later, he felt something wet on his chest and looked down, expecting Ryan’s tears, but it was more than that. Clark was only a few weeks shy of fifteen himself, but his body was well-toned and more developed than any “normal” human boy his age, especially in the arms and chest. Now, his pecs ached in a way he’d never felt before and his deep blue T-shirt was nearly soaked through from the inside, wetting the plaid button-down he wore overtop.
And that was how Clark Kent came to be here in this moment, arms around a kid he had barely known three days but cared for more than life itself, when he realized his goddamn nipples were leaking. The instinct to comfort was so strong that his body responded in the most powerful way it could, and so Clark Kent was lactating for the first time in his life, outside of a few intense masturbation sessions.
Ryan must have felt the dampness because he pulled his head back from Clark’s chest, looking up at the boy his heart said was his big brother, puzzled eyebrows shooting up under chestnut bangs. Then the boy inhaled the aroma of Clark’s milk, or perhaps more accurately, the pheromones it produced, and he smiled, sliding his hand up where he’d been hugging Clark’s waist, to cup underneath the teen’s left pec, thumb brushing the wet fabric over his leaking nip.
“Clark? Wow.” Ryan gulped, licking his lips, and tried to shake off the glaze that had fallen across his eyes. “I’ve never… I never got to…” The preteen’s tongue wet his lips again and he let out a whimper.
The young Superboy felt another pang of deep empathy for his friend; Clark had never known succor from his biological parents either, though Jonathan and Martin had more than made up for it when he’d come into their lives. Nursing, taking in daddy’s milk, it was a basic need for every boy when they were little, from infancy on, not only for nourishment, but reassurance, comfort and love, fundamental to a boy’s wellbeing. It soothed hurt and eased away fear and brought fathers and sons closer together. That Ryan had never felt the comfort, the love, of nursing from his dads, made Clark’s heart break for his new ‘little brother’ all over again.
“Oh,” was all Clark could muster at first. He blushed heavily, but then chuckled as he scooped Ryan up, one arm still around the boy’s shoulders, the other supporting his knees. “Come on, kiddo. Let me take care of you, huh?”
Ryan blinked, but smiled and nodded, burying his head against Clark’s shoulder, soft little lips planting kisses there before moving down towards his chest.
Grinning, Clark ran them up out of the cellar, kicking the doors closed behind him, and over to the barn, and the big bed in the loft where he’d spent countless sleepovers growing up with friends like Pete Ross, Landon Lang and Colin Sullivan.
Late afternoon sunlight streamed into the barn, casting long shadows in an orangey haze. Clark ruffled Ryan’s hair as the boy recovered from the whirlwind, and bent to brush their cheeks together, another bit of brotherly bonding, which made Ryan giggle.
Walking up the steps to the loft, the teenager laid his younger charge on the king-sized bed amid a pile of fluffy, warm blankets that would shelter them against the growing chill as the sun went down. Not quite twilight, yet, but almost.
Ryan leaned back, rubbing his face in the fuzzy blankets while he stared at Clark in awe. Super-strength, super-speed, the body of a god, and the sweetest smile, kindest eyes, and most handsome, adorable face the twelve-year-old had ever seen in his life. How could he be so lucky for someone so good to have found him, caring for him from the first moment? It was enough to make his eyes well up again, and he blinked the tears away.
Clark was shrugging out of his jacket, but saw the look on Ryan’s face and reached a hand to cup his cheek. “Hey, it’s okay, kiddo. You’re safe now.”
Nodding, Ryan pressed his cheek against Clark’s palm. “I know. Happy tears, don’t worry.”
“Oh,” Clark said again, smiling softly. “That’s okay, then.” He reluctantly withdrew his hand, giving one last brush over Ryan’s cheek with his thumb. Then Clark practically ripped open his shirt, pulling it and the tee underneath off in one quick motion. His tanned, toned torso was on full display to the other boy for the first time, nipples erect, and drooling their milk, thicker, creamier and sweeter than a normal human’s.
At the boy’s awestruck expression, Clark couldn’t help but feel proud of his body; he didn’t usually like to show off, nor did he get the chance to, but the unabashed adoration from this boy that had so suddenly and completely filled a whole in his heart meant more to him than he could say. He flexed his biceps, making a few cheesy bodybuilder poses hoping to make Ryan laugh, which worked. Then he put his hands on his hips, and puffed out his chest, popping his pecs like they were dancing, which only made them spill more milk.
Laughing so hard he had to clutch his sides, Ryan pouted in mock horror, eyes wide. “Nooo! Don’t waste it, please!”
It was said jokingly, but Clark could see the genuine longing on his face, and it made his cock twitch. But this wasn’t going to be sex, at least Clark didn’t think so. Just comfort. Just love. He moved to get in bed, ready to tuck the smaller boy against him and let nature take its course, but Ryan put a hand on Clark’s arm, stopping him.
“Wait… I, uh, wanna do it the right way. And…I’m glad you’re my first, Clark.” His cheeks flushed, and he looked down. “For this, anyway.”
Stunned, Clark just nodded, waiting for Ryan to give the okay. The praise hit him like jolt, making him swell with another surge of pride that caused his cock to lengthen and throb, a tingle starting to build in his pussy. But at the same time, he wondered at Ryan’s words “for this.” Had the abuse gone deeper than he’d let on, or was there someone special in Ryan’s past who had made love to him? Clark hoped it was the latter, but strongly suspected the former.
Ryan unzipped his grey hoodie jacket and shrugged it off, pulling his striped shirt over his head, exposing his own smooth torso, covered in still-healing bruises from the car accident, and the beating he’d taken before it, along with a few old scars on his back and arms; the signs of what he’d endured from his stepfather, and perhaps others. Otherwise, the boy’s body was perfect for his age, though even just two and a half years younger than Clark, he was dwarfed by the older teen.
For a moment Clark thought that would be it, but Ryan just smiled at him, kicked off his sneakers, and then shucked his jeans, pushing them down along with his briefs in one smooth motion. The boy lay naked on Clark’s big bed, cock half-plump against his smooth leg, the boypussy below peaking from behind hairless balls, his labia just a bit moist and puffy. Definitely aroused from the situation, it seemed, but not craving sex yet. Clark knew the feeling, though the sight of his little buddy like that was bringing him a bit closer to the other side of that equation.
“Naked’s better, right? Skin-to-skin contact bonding and all that?” At Clark’s fumbling nod, Ryan giggled. “Plus it’s just more fun. Guess you like what you see, big guy. I’m glad.” He ran his fingers up Clark’s arm and across the teen’s bare chest, biting his lip before shyly asking. “Can I see you, too?”
“’Course, lil guy,” Clark replied, shaking off his stunned, amorous stupor, and ruffled the boy’s hair. He had a feeling those nicknames were going to stick. “You’re perfect, Ryan,” he said, leaning down to kiss the boy’s forehead while he unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down, having gone commando as usual.
Clark’s now fully hard dick flopped out, springing up between his legs, the slit drooling a bit of precum that oozed down until it was caught by the edge of his foreskin, hanging there like a bead of dew. The Kryptonian teen’s boyhood was a sight to behold, and Clark blushed at Ryan’s gasp. At nearly fifteen, it was a cock that would put any adult to shame, almost as many inches long, and nearly half as thick around, the thick foreskin still wrapped tightly around his dickhead despite Clark’s incredible erection. Full, virile balls hung below that amazing, super cock, and Ryan could see Clark’s own boycunt glistening and dripping between his muscular legs. The fact that the super-stud’s pert, brown nipples drooled streams of milk which fell down Clark’s torso and ran along his abs and cum gutters before reaching the point of that vee and dripping onto the base of his cock only added to the sheer perfection of the unearthly handsome boy.
“Holy cow, you’re so fucking hot,” the twelve-year-old breathed, eyes big as saucers. “Superboy in every way, Clark. And, plus, you’re like me,” he added, indicating the older teen’s dick and pussy, rather than just one or the other. “So cool.” If he’d had to bet, he would have guessed Clark was a cock-boy only, but he was glad he was wrong. Even more fun this way, and something else they shared.
The teen hero blushed, suddenly more bashful than he had been since Colin had given him his first romantic kiss from another boy. He fought the urge to say something corny like “aw, shucks,” and was extremely relieved when Ryan tugged on his arm and patted the bed next to him.
Climbing in, Clark moved to spoon against the younger boy, cradling him in his arms as he leaned back on the oversized pillows propped up on the headboard. Clark nuzzled into the hollow of Ryan’s neck and shoulder, kissing softly, still brotherly in its intimacy.
The preteen gasped and sighed happily, turning his body so his head was against Clark’s chest, his mop of chestnut hair falling over the older boy’s warm skin. Ryan spread his legs a little, giving Clark’s cock room to slip in between them and rest against his smooth, soft thighs; the shaft was long enough that the head poked out behind Ryan, brushing against his ass crack, which made him giggle even as slick began to drip, mixing with Clark’s precum.
“You’re the perfect one, Clark,” Ryan said, kissing the older boy’s cheek. “I… love you. Like my big brother. Like…you’re in my heart in a way I didn’t know I needed all my life.”
Clark kissed the lad’s cheek, feeling his heart swell at Ryan’s words, already glowing with the same affection, from the same moment. “You sure you can’t read my mind?” he asked with a chuckle, rubbing the boy’s nose with his own. “’Cause I was thinking the same thing, Ry. You’re my little brother. In here.” He took Ryan’s hand and held it to his chest, over his heart, where the boy could feel how hard it was beating. “And I love you, too.”
It was Ryan’s turn to blush, but he kept eye contact with Clark while licking suddenly dry lips. “I want to make love to you so bad, but… I want… I want this even more, right now. Just to be close with you.”
Clark nodded. “Me too, lil guy. So let me show you how family’s supposed to feel, ok?” Clark’s pecs were swollen even more now, aching with the need to release their burden. “Drink as much as you want, k? Whatever feels good, I’m here. You’re safe. I’ve got you, little brother.”
At the boy’s smiling nod, Clark gently cupped the back of his neck, and guided his head down towards his chest, where Ryan licked at the trails of milk, lapping them up and making Clark giggle. “Eager beaver,” the older boy chuckled, only to let out a desperate gasp when Ryan’s lips finally wrapped around his left tit and began to suckle. It sent a jolt of pleasure through him that went straight to his dick, while he knew the sweet, creamy, honey-like milk would bring Ryan his own pleasure, warming him from the inside and carrying with it the sense of deep love and care Clark held for the boy.
Ryan nursed, greedily and happily, remembering to breath through his nose while he suckled, letting out instinctive, childish burbles, alongside horny moans of pleasure. All the while, Clark held him close, cradled like a babe-in-arms, rubbing his shoulder and back and down his arm, while the boy’s hands roamed every inch of Superboy’s body he could reach.
“Mmm,” the twelve-year-old murmured after a few long moments, as he detached from Clark’s peck to take some deeper breaths. His face was smeared with the milk, like a kid who’d tried to pour himself a glass like the grown-ups but held the cartoon backwards and spilled it all over himself. “So good, big bwudda.”
Clark blinked, noticing Ryan’s voice had gone… younger? He wasn’t surprised exactly, knowing that boys who had been deprived might mentally regress temporarily while sating the needs they had been denied. It was very cute, and made Clark feel all the more protective of this incredible boy who had come into his life. At the same time, Clark knew that such denial of basic needs could have a detrimental effect on a boy’s mental and physical health, and he hoped that he had come along in time to help Ryan heal from the neglect. If the boy’s dripping, preteen cocklet was anything to go by, it was at least very pleasurable for him, too.
“Drink up, little guy,” he urged, gently rocking Ryan up and down with his shoulder. “Plenty more for you, it’ll help you grow up big and strong.”
“Jus’ like you,” Ry said with a little giggle and burble, eyes dopey and glazed, but clearly happy. “Love you, Clark. Fanks!” And with that, his lips found Clark’s other nipple and began to suckle again.
Clark just grinned and kissed his little bro’s forehead, brushing his fingers through the boy’s hair, and held him like that and rubbed his gently growing tummy until he’d had his fill, by which time Ryan’s cock had erupted in not one, but two boygasms, from the sheer pleasure of bonding with another male through nursing for the first time; Ryan’s preteen cum was thin and watery, but there was a lot of it, spurt after spurt landing on Clark’s own chest and belly. Not only had he cum so intensely, during the succor, Ryan seemed to regress even more, past the slight speech impediment he'd had at about ten to the innocent, rambling curiosity of a six-year-old or thereabouts. Clark had indulged him through it all, answering questions as best he could, and gently rubbing and caressing the boy until Ryan drifted off into a peaceful sleep, belly full of brother’s milk. His mind would slowly catch back up to his body while he dreamed, all Clark had to do was hold him close and keep him safe.
Superboy’s own erection pressed between Ryan’s legs, and he was content to leave it alone, knowing it would either go down eventually or still be there when they both woke up and could deal with it together if they wanted. But as he cradled Ryan, he felt the boy’s legs tighten around his dick and begin to rock. He glanced down, and saw a sweet little smirk, and half-lidded eyes staring up at him. “I had two cummies, you gotsta at least have one, big brwo.”
Clark groaned and shuddered, grateful for this incredible boy in his arms, with or without sex. Sometimes, it felt like Ryan was pracitcally made of love itself and had only been waiting for someone to share it with and to love him in return. In this moment, though, the need for comfort and safety sated, boyish horniness was about on par with brotherly love, the two mixing together in the best ways, just as they should. Ryan rubbed his thighs over Clark’s shaft, sliding back and forth, and dragging his wet, puffy cuntlips over the teen’s dick, coating it with slick. They frotted like that for a while, Clark’s arms around the boy as he kissed him properly, tongues sliding together, probing each other’s mouths. Clark wouldn’t last much longer with the love Ryan was lavishing on him, he knew.
Then Ry broke the kiss, his smaller hand moving to Clark’s head and guiding him down towards puffy little boy tits, as if saying “your turn!” Clark didn’t want to disappoint, so he bathed Ryan’s chest with his tongue, clamping his lips around one nipple at the boy’s insistent nudging. “It tingles. Itches,” Ryan said, and Clark raised an eyebrow in surprise. Maybe his milk had triggered something in Ryan. Clark suckled, nothing came out… then he gave a little nip with his teeth, which made Ryan yelp, and then sigh, as milk began to flow into Clark’s mouths. Sweet in its own way, but purely human from all he could tell. He was so glad, thrilled beyond words, to share this with Ryan, and please his little brother in this way, too.
Clark groaned as Ryan squeezed his thighs tighter around the super-shaft, rocking and dry humping on it faster and faster as Clark nursed. It wasn’t nearly as much milk, but it was amazing nonetheless, and Clark happily suckled both of Ryan’s tits until the boy was cooing and gasping and squirming in his arms, butt cheeks clenching and clamping onto Clarks’ dickhead, which finally set the Kryptonian teen off, sending a dozen spurts of thick cream shooting into Ryan’s butt crack and splattering against his puckered boyhole. When they were both spent, Ryan gently nudged Clark’s head away, little boy nub falling from the teen’s lips with a pop.
They clung to each other, panting heavily, a cool evening breeze drifting in through the window past Clark’s telescope, the sun having fully set during their gently, brotherly lovemaking. They had both needed this, needed each other, in ways even they didn’t understand. And what they had shared tonight, no one could ever take from them.
Clark hugged Ryan tight, and kissed his forehead when he blurted out “That was amazing. Don’t know why I went all, uh, Muppet Babies on you, but oh my god you’re incredible.”
Chuckling, Clark explained, glad to see the boy was back to being himself, or close to it by this point. “The way it got explained in health class…sometimes, when your body is getting what it’s needed but been missing out on for a long time…sometimes it’s so intense, your brain responds by, hmm, going back to a safe place. Just in your head, and just for a while. It’s a mix of self-defense and pleasure enhancement, shielding your mature mind from being overwhelmed by something too intense, but also intensifying the sensations to make up for lost time. It, er, might keep happening from time to time until your system adjusts. But it’s natural, so don’t worry, nothing to be freaked out about. You’re a cutie, no matter what, kiddo. One counselor I know said it was a way your brain heals your inner child.”
Ryan tucked his chin against Clark’s shoulder, resting his head there while the older boy gently stroked his hair. “That makes sense,” he said at last. “My inner child needs a lot of healing.” His eyes shifted up to meet Clark’s gaze. “But just being with you is making it so much better on its own.” Then he sighed, turning glum. “I wish I didn’t have to go to a foster home. I want to stay with you guys, if your parents will let me.”
“Let you? Can’t you tell? They want to adopt you, Ry, if that’s something you want, too.” Clark squeezed his shoulder and rubbed his back gently. “It just takes time. They already adopted me, so taking on another boy is going to be easier, but all the paperwork and stuff still takes a while, and child services is going to try and find blood relatives first, most likely. They’ll want to make sure you’re in the best place.”
“I know how it goes,” Ryan said. “It’s just… I’m worried about what could happen in the meantime. He’s still out there. But more than that… I don’t want to leave you, big guy.” The boy snuggled closer against Clark, wrapping his arms around the bigger teen in a tight hug, while Clark’s fingers rubbed slow circles on his back, soothing as best he could.
Ryan yawned then, the excitement and exertion finally catching up with him, and Clark followed suit. The older he got, the less sleep he actually needed, but he still did need some, and with Ryan in his arms, now was the perfect time. They huddled close, and Clark pulled one of the lighter blankets over them, the thicker, fuzzy ones still warm beneath them.
“No matter what happens, I’m going to keep you safe,” Clark said. “Promise. You’re my little brother, Ryan. Now and forever.” He kissed the boy’s temple, and they rested their heads together.
With another yawn, Superboy and Stray fell into a dreamless, peaceful sleep, comforted by each other’s presence.