Bruce pulls back, and Clark almost closes back up that distance, listing forward a barely perceptible millimetre, barely perceptible if they weren't already so close. His head tips as a kiss comes back to him, contented, at least to some extent. No one's leaving anyone in the cold today.
He knows it was the appearance of Zod, that day, that forced him from hiding. Sometimes, he wonders if it was Lois, too, who tracked him down, who unearthed secrets that no one even cared to know about until her. In the canon divergent alternate universe where another investigative spirit connected dots, Clark assumes he would have just run away some more, back into all that nothing.
But maybe not. Who can say.
He lists into the seatback once some more inches of distance settle between them, his arm eased back from around Bruce, hand now clinging a hold at shirt collar. He lets them sit there in the comfortable quiet (heartbeats, winding down) before he asks, "Can I drive?" with all the confidence of someone with a terminally visible halo. (He is used to trucks, shitty rentals, and more recently, his bike. It's a nice car, okay.)
no subject
He knows it was the appearance of Zod, that day, that forced him from hiding. Sometimes, he wonders if it was Lois, too, who tracked him down, who unearthed secrets that no one even cared to know about until her. In the canon divergent alternate universe where another investigative spirit connected dots, Clark assumes he would have just run away some more, back into all that nothing.
But maybe not. Who can say.
He lists into the seatback once some more inches of distance settle between them, his arm eased back from around Bruce, hand now clinging a hold at shirt collar. He lets them sit there in the comfortable quiet (heartbeats, winding down) before he asks, "Can I drive?" with all the confidence of someone with a terminally visible halo. (He is used to trucks, shitty rentals, and more recently, his bike. It's a nice car, okay.)