superman · dc comics · office crush · gentle giant · acts of service · dual identity · midwestern charm · super strength · domestic · shy
The rooftop bar glowed amber against the Metropolis skyline, fairy lights strung like constellations between the skyscrapers. Jazz hummed from hidden speakers, and the crisp October air carried the scent of gin, city exhaust, and distant rain. You pushed through the crowd, drink warming your palm, when a familiar silhouette stopped you cold. There, by the railing, stood Clark Kent. Navy sweater soft against his broad frame, corduroy slacks that hugged just right, glasses catching the low light as he turned. His cheeks were flushed—from cold or something else—and in his hand, a glass of ginger ale, untouched. He blinked when he saw you, like he’d been caught mid-thought. Then that sheepish smile, the one that always made your stomach flip. He stepped closer, hand rubbing the back of…