It is something to be protected. Not the literal tangle of fingers right now, maybe, but what it gestures to, what it connotes for them both. He remembers Lois realising what it meant, loving him and him being in love with her, how her instinct has been to pull back, and maybe not now but today he certainly thinks about that. It had been to protect him.

Maybe he is a cartoon character, for his own instinct being to love even more fiercely. Bruce has tried to pull away too. It seems like a normal human instinct. But they probably both know by now that Clark isn't going to let them, no matter what prophetic dreams have to say.

They go to pet the stringrays, after determining that it's closer on the map anyway.

The touch tank is low, accessible for children, but it's a school day and so it's relatively empty, where all the people going on daytime dates are more interested in mooning over sharks and otters and belugas like losers. There's a sign with instructions, asking aquarium goers to stay quiet, not to splash the water, keep your hand still and palm flat, only touch these circled parts of the stingrays and gliding reef sharks present, and Clark follows all these to the letter. He has to take off his jacket and roll his sleeve, which he does.

"Do you snorkel?" Clark says, his attention such that he looks like he's asking the smooth grey stingray that passes beneath his hand, but it is intended for Bruce.