jealous clark kent that doesn't understand that he's jealous.
ββββββββββββββββββ
he was already used to noticing things he didnβt mean to. it came with living in a city that never really went quiet and with being someone who was always, in some way, aware of more than he said out loud
you were beside him, not in front of him, because you both had walked there together from his apartment like you always did on slow mornings. you had grabbed his jacket off the hook near the door without thinking, and he hadnβt corrected you because it had started feeling normal in a way he didnβt fully know how to describe yet
your apartment now was his apartment and his apartment was yours, even if you still occasionally argued over which mug belonged to who
you leaned slightly forward in line, deciding what to order, sweater sleeves pulled over your hands the way they always were when you were thinking. clark stood just half a step behind you, close enough that his shoulder almost brushed yours when he shifted
he was listening to you talk about wanting something sweet, something you were pretending you didnβt already plan on ordering
the barista looked up when it was your turn and his attention lingered on you a moment too long
βwhat can i get youβ he asked
you gave your order easily, familiar and comfortable in the space
clarkβs eyes stayed on your face instead of the counter. the small movements you made when you spoke. the way your expression softened at the edges when you were being polite. the ease in your body when you didnβt feel watched the way you sometimes were
βthatβs a good choiceβ the barista said after you finished, smiling a little too knowingly
βitβs mostly sugar so i hope soβ
clarkβs eyebrows drew together faintly. not enough for anyone else to notice but enough that he felt it happen
the barista leaned forward on the counter slightly
βyou come in here a lot rightβ
βyeah sometimesβ you said
clark felt something settle uncomfortably in his chest even though nothing had really happened yet
βi think iβve seen you aroundβ the barista continued βyouβve got a nice vibe. kind of hard to forgetβ
you blinked once, then gave a small polite smile
clark shifted his weight, jaw tightening briefly before he let it go again. he could feel the familiar internal argument starting before he even fully formed it
youβre allowed to talk to people
that last thought landed heavier than it should have
the barista slid your drink forward
βif you ever want something different i could make you something custom. on meβ
you shook your head gently, still kind, still easy
βthatβs really nice but iβm good with this thank youβ
βsureβ he said, already moving on
clark exhaled slowly through his nose and only then realized his shoulders had been slightly tense
you turned toward him with your drink in hand, your face softening immediately when you saw him like your attention had just been waiting for him the whole time
his expression changed right away, subtle but clear. whatever tension had been there eased just a little just from looking at you
you tilted your head slightly as you both stepped away from the counter
you didnβt fully believe him but you didnβt push. you just walked with him toward a small table near the window like you trusted he would talk when he was ready
that was something about living with you that still caught him off guard sometimes
you didnβt demand answers from him. you just stayed close enough that silence never felt like distance
later, you went home together like you always did
there wasnβt really a distinction anymore between βhis placeβ and βyoursβ in practice. there was just the apartment in metropolis that had slowly started accumulating your presence in ways neither of you had formally discussed but both of you had quietly accepted
your shoes were by his near the door
your jacket was on the chair he used most often
your voice echoed lightly from the kitchen while you talked about something unrelated as he set his keys down
it felt normal in a way that still sometimes surprised him
you were already on the couch when he came back into the room, legs tucked under you, scrolling your phone with the relaxed comfort of someone completely at home
βyou left your mug in the sink againβ you said without looking up
you glanced at him briefly
he gave a faint look that was almost a smile but not quite
βweβre still arguing about thatβ
then you looked up properly at him
and the small softness in your expression shifted slightly
βsomethingβs bothering youβ
he had been trying to let it pass. it was small. it always felt small until it didnβt
βthe barista was flirting with youβ he said finally
you blinked once, then leaned back slightly
that reaction alone made him feel like he had misjudged the weight of it again
he ran a hand through his hair, slower this time, more tired than tense
βiβm not madβ he added quickly βi just noticed it and it stuck. and i didnβt really know what to do with it so i just kept thinking about itβ
you watched him for a second, expression steady
βclark i can handle someone flirting with meβ
βi know you can. i do know thatβ
his gaze dropped briefly to the floor then came back up
βi just didnβt like itβ he admitted
the part he didnβt usually say out loud because it sounded too close to something he wasnβt sure he was allowed to feel
you shifted on the couch, opening space beside you without asking him to come closer
he sat down, shoulders still a little tense, hands loosely clasped for a moment before relaxing at his sides
βwas it just that you didnβt like him saying itβ you asked gently
βit wasnβt him specificallyβ he said carefully βit was just the way it felt like i wasnβt part of the situation even though i was standing right thereβ
you studied him for a moment
βyou are part of itβ you said simply
he gave a small, almost helpless look
βi know that logicallyβ
you raised an eyebrow slightly
βi know that emotionally it didnβt feel like that in the momentβ
that earned a small quiet nod from you
his hand shifted slightly before settling again, like he was catching himself from fidgeting too much
βi shouldβve said something instead of just letting it sit in my headβ he added
you leaned into him slightly and he immediately adjusted, arm going around your waist without hesitation like muscle memory
βyou can just tell me when it happensβ you said
βi donβt want to make it your problemβ he replied automatically
βclarkβ you said softly βwe live togetherβ
you didnβt say it like it was a correction. just a fact
his expression softened in response without him meaning to
βyeahβ he said quietly βwe doβ
βiβm still sorryβ he added out of habit
you sighed, but it was warm
later that night the apartment was dim and quiet in that familiar way it only got when both of you had fully settled into it
you were pressed into his side on the couch, your weight relaxed against him, his arm resting around you at your waist like it had been there all along and would probably stay there for a while
his thumb moved slowly over your sweater without him really thinking about it
you tilted your head up slightly
βyouβre still thinking about itβ
you gave him a look that was patient without being indulgent
βyou donβt have to compete with anyone for meβ
his brow furrowed faintly
βi know that logicallyβ he said again
you reached up and lightly touched his cheek, turning him toward you
his expression softened immediately at the contact, tension easing out of his face in small visible stages
βyouβre hereβ you said
he looked at you for a long moment
then leaned in and kissed you
this time there was less hesitation in it
just him returning to something he already knew was real
when he pulled back he stayed close, forehead nearly resting against yours
βiβm still sorryβ he murmured automatically
you gave a soft exhale that almost sounded like a laugh
and this time he finally let it go
just held you closer in the apartment you shared in metropolis, like it had always been yours together and he was finally learning how to believe that too
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