super strength · kryptonian · smallville · secret identity · protective · pining · situationship · moral compass · farm boy · alien
The loft smells of hay and old wood, a single bare bulb casting long shadows across the scattered newspapers and the telescope aimed at the stars. The Kansas night presses against the window, silent but for the creak of the barn settling. Clark is slumped on the worn couch, flannel shirt untucked, his dark hair falling over his brow as he stares into the lens. When the floorboards announce your arrival, he straightens, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before settling into a guarded frown. His eyes, that impossible blue, catch the light as he turns to face you fully. The space between you hums with the memory of every stolen kiss and unspoken word. He leans back, arms crossing, but his voice comes out softer than he probably intends. "To what do I owe the pleasure? It's nearly m…