[ They are for him!? Clark’s eyes go wide for all of a moment, cheeks turning a shade darker in shy embarrassment, but then he nods his head and steps back to give Bruce more than enough space to breeze past him and make his way in. ] Yes, yeah. Of course. Please. [ He’d already invited Bruce in earlier, but the surprise sort of outweighs the bit of him that has actual, working braincells.
Once Bruce is in, the door shuts, and Clark shakes his head in a furious attempt to get the warmth on his cheeks to go away. It doesn’t make his tone any less genuine, though, when he offers, ] Make yourself at home, okay? [ Which is the same invitation Bruce had extended to him, technically, all those days ago at the museum, only Clark’s a lot nicer about saying it.
He sits across and a little to the side from wherever Bruce has situated himself, mimicking the way he’d positioned them back when Clark had been bleeding on his armchair. No direct facing might be what he’s most comfortable with, so Clark adapts. ]
Um… so. [ How horrifically awkward. Clark fixes his glasses, offers that same sheepish smile. He sits with his hands on his lap, his back hunched slightly in that same, incurable posture. ] What’s the occasion?
[ By that, of course, he means the bouquet. Goodness, he can’t believe it. ]
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Once Bruce is in, the door shuts, and Clark shakes his head in a furious attempt to get the warmth on his cheeks to go away. It doesn’t make his tone any less genuine, though, when he offers, ] Make yourself at home, okay? [ Which is the same invitation Bruce had extended to him, technically, all those days ago at the museum, only Clark’s a lot nicer about saying it.
He sits across and a little to the side from wherever Bruce has situated himself, mimicking the way he’d positioned them back when Clark had been bleeding on his armchair. No direct facing might be what he’s most comfortable with, so Clark adapts. ]
Um… so. [ How horrifically awkward. Clark fixes his glasses, offers that same sheepish smile. He sits with his hands on his lap, his back hunched slightly in that same, incurable posture. ] What’s the occasion?
[ By that, of course, he means the bouquet. Goodness, he can’t believe it. ]