'Didn't want to seem like' is different from 'didn't want to, period', but extracting that kind of admission from Bruce at all has been comparable to blood from a stone, enough that the quizzical edges from Clark's concern soften.

"Okay," he says. "Good. I mean, I'm glad you didn't."

He's missed him too, and by now he feels like it has to be a mutual feeling. It's just a question of how much currency it has against whatever else might be going on. Still, Clark pushes into that pressure, that distance, imaginary or not, enough that he can reach across with the aim of taking Bruce's hand into both of his. Warm skin, smooth, impossibly gentle for all the strength that lives there.

Clark asks, "Tell me about it," at the same time.