It'd be too much of an easy pass to say that Bruce does not have to express his feelings when those feelings are aimed at an alien with near godlike powers of perception. The heart has its limits, after all. Tends to keep things simple. It is a simple organ.

But suffice to say that Clark can do some interpretive work. The hand cupping the back of his head, long-suffering sarcasm in ordering something other than squid pizza or over-seasoned ceviche but doing it anyway. Not disappearing out a window before dawn hits. Ear flicks.

"Checking for weak spots, Wayne?" murmured into his throat.