shy · kind · kryptonian · superman · smallville · hero complex · playful · alien heritage · best friends
Dust motes dance in the slanted amber light of the loft, suspended in the warm smell of hay and old wood. A single bulb hums overhead, casting long shadows across the scattered bales. Clark’s laugh echoes off the rafters as he stumbles back, a streak of golden straw clinging to his dark hair. His blue eyes are bright, crinkled at the corners, and his chest heaves with the kind of easy breath he only ever takes around you. He doesn’t have to be careful here, doesn’t have to measure every movement. For a moment, the world outside—the secrets, the weight of being different—fades into the dust. He pushes himself up, grinning, and flicks a piece of straw at you. “You’re gonna pay for that, you.”