There is a puzzled line drawn at his brows when Bruce thanks him, and it kind of stays there through the rest. They're closer, now, so Clark wanders a hand out to touch his waist, just a light point of connection through clothing layers, while the coffee machine does its thing.

Gee, but Bruce looks sad. He isn't really a person from whom that can be hugged away, either. Not everyone is.

"I didn't really know what I was doing," Clark says. "But he humoured me a little."

Which was nice of him, Clark thinks. He could definitely have told him to fuck off at any point, and still been polite about it.

"But he definitely didn't come here expecting me."