It's easy to watch Clark. Bruce likes watching people in general, and there are few people who can contend with a Kansan-Kryptonian when he's keen on something. He doesn't mind being pulled behind like a kid holding kite string; it's grounding, though he isn't sure why.

(He is, actually. Sure why.)

"Oh, huh." We're doing this, are we tone of monosyllabic voice. Bruce's sunglasses are already clipped into his shirt, 'indoors' like they are, and so he pops his hat off and shakes his hair out a bit, patiently sidling up beside Clark.

"I bet you're actually just taking a picture of that fish," he observes mildly. Bruce is not enthusiastic about photos, but after a lifetime of being in the public eye, his good angles are on the kind of auto-pilot that would please Tyra Banks. For given value of good, anyway, he's a weird old guy taking up way too much space next to Superman.