Clark is happy to accept the nuzzled affection, presses in to cup the line of Bull's jaw a little more firmly as the remaining hand settles along the other side. Both slowly slip back, thumbs tracing down the side of Bull's neck as a feather-soft kiss presses against the back, just below his hairline.

"I suggest nothing. Want... nothing. But if you choose to acknowledge my claim on you, understand exactly what it means..."

Clark runs the side of his nose against the side of Bull's neck, and there's warmth just above it, too warm even for his skin. Fire, the sun itself, behind his closed eyes, death itself just behind his ear if Clark so much as looks at him.

Not a threat, never a threat.

A reminder of exactly who, and what, he belongs to.

"You're more than welcome."