Oh, that's good or oh, that's interesting or something similar might have been a reply that Clark's mouth begins to shape around but he is far more interested in kissing even more, too privately enamoured with (and maybe just a little giddy about) the idea that Bruce would rather be doing that than talking. (On reflection, later, that may make sense, but here and now, the slight clumsiness of words mumbled into kisses is charming.)

He, too, is settling into the way their bodies fit together, a hand laying now on the back of Bruce's neck and the other keeping him anchored with a handful of shirt.

The snow comes down harder. That Martha has not interrupted them indicates to Clark that she knows not to, but this thought is shelved firmly before he can weigh in on it or act on it. What he does react to is the sound of the dog door suddenly swinging as Shelby gives up on these losers, turning to look.

Let's go to Tibet and find a yurt to make out in.

"We should probably go inside now."

It's a stilted way to say that. Specific. Maybe Bruce's way of saying words is catching, transferable via open mouthed kisses. Maybe Clark just wants to find a phrase that can't be loopholed into meaning that they should go inside and never so much as make eye contact again. But there is humour, crinkled at the corners of his eyes, present in ever-ready smile. He doesn't let go, but he does open up his embrace so that it's not an accidental man of steel cage.