Bruce resettles; Clark breathes out a sigh. Doesn't move.
Does listen to the sounds of his mother putting the coffee on, and opens his eyes, suddenly aware of the hour, and for having -- in Smallville time -- slept in. He rolls a look down the end of his nose where he can see Shelby, and deduce that the door is ajar, and then feel the strange shape of a man in his bed. Not his bed. A bed. None of this inspires him to do more than just
lie still, dazed and content, maybe curl his arm up into a more comfortable position. Blunt fingertips touching bed-mussed hair, dark and grey with neat ends, drawing fingers through it with idle, he doesn't know, something. Not affection, even if he feels affection, but more curious than that.
He's pretty sure they're both awake, now, although Bruce does a good impression of unconsciousness.
"Merry Christmas," he says. The smell of coffee is a good rousing agent.
no subject
Does listen to the sounds of his mother putting the coffee on, and opens his eyes, suddenly aware of the hour, and for having -- in Smallville time -- slept in. He rolls a look down the end of his nose where he can see Shelby, and deduce that the door is ajar, and then feel the strange shape of a man in his bed. Not his bed. A bed. None of this inspires him to do more than just
lie still, dazed and content, maybe curl his arm up into a more comfortable position. Blunt fingertips touching bed-mussed hair, dark and grey with neat ends, drawing fingers through it with idle, he doesn't know, something. Not affection, even if he feels affection, but more curious than that.
He's pretty sure they're both awake, now, although Bruce does a good impression of unconsciousness.
"Merry Christmas," he says. The smell of coffee is a good rousing agent.