It is expected and anticipated that Bruce will have more than one donut, if not all tonight. Clark just doesn't mind helping himself first to his food gifts, the last of his donut disappearing behind his fangs, followed by the sprinkles that had fallen into his hand, shotgunned like pills.

'Uh huh' says a nod as he finishes his bite, listening, and swallowing before speaking, "Can I help?"

His tone makes it a real question as opposed to seeking permission to hang out or something: can he help, or is it too fiddly and he'd just be breathing down Bruce's neck.