Jon wished he could say something to little Jon. He tried to stay calm, forcing his pulse steady through long practice even though his dad was the one who could nearly always see through him.
"Would you come here, son?" Superman asked.
Jon kept his body very still.
Hesitantly, little Jon glanced back at Jon before jerkily flying forwards. His shoulders were tense with nerves.
Superman waited patiently, then moved all at once when little Jon got close enough. He enveloped him in his arms, pulling him to his chest and curling slightly around him.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"I- I just- I don't-" Little Jon sounded choked up. His arms, which had been limp at his side at first, flew up to grab at Superman, clutching at him almost desperately.
Superman rubbed at his back, making quiet soothing sounds.
Jon felt like he was intruding on a private moment. It was one he'd experienced before, sort of, but neither of them knew that. But if he said anything or slipped awayā¦ that would be worse, right? He felt the awkwardness combine with longing in his chest, wishing that his dad were hugging him, too.
"What happened?" Superman asked quietly.
"I don't know," little Jon said wetly. He sniffed loudly, clearly trying to collect himself even as he clung to Superman. "It was really confusing. I don't remember how I got there."
"My wha-" Thankfully little Jon cut himself off before finishing that. "I lost him. I don't know. I'm sorry, but I-"
"It's okay," Superman said, like it was. And when he said it, you always believed him. Jon still didn't know how he did it. "Take a breath."
Little Jon inhaled, still pressed tight to Superman.
Jon felt his own throat grow tight. He took a deep breath, too, in through his nose, trying to focus on the warm air and the sound of wind blowing through the fields beneath them.
"Let's get you home first, then we'll talk about it," Superman decided, patting little Jon's back before straightening and facing Jon. One of his hands lingered on little Jon's shoulder. Jon felt a curl of envy in his stomach, one he viciously suppressed. Little Jon was the one who needed Superman right now.
"Thank you," Superman continued. "Do you have a place to stay?"
"You don't need to worry about me," Jon said.
"That's not what I asked."
"Please," Little Jon said, voice low, "Can he come home with us? Dad?"
Superman paused, tilting his head.
"Alright." He turned due south, and Jon pressed his lips tightly together. Little Jon didn't understand that sort of acquiescence, nor that Superman's public home was tucked away in Antarctica. That wasn't a good place for him. He needed people.
"You don'tā¦ need to take us to the Fortress of Solitude. If you don't want to, sir," Jon cleared his throat. "In the future, you know that your identity isn'tā¦ Well, it's not famous. But it's not a secret, either. So if you want to call your wife and askā¦"
He could feel the weight of Superman's gaze, studying him. Hopefully the material of his suit was still enough to pass musterā¦ and prevented the kind of x-ray identification that had gotten his father to accept him when he'd returned seven years older three years agoā¦ or a few weeks from now. Rao, was this confusing.
"I just mean that your wife isā¦ from what I've heard, she's veryāshe's someone whose opinion you really respect. Since. You, uh. Married her." He sounded like a lunatic. Jon wished he could bury his head in his hands.
"Give me a few minutes, then." Superman nodded at Jon, then squeezed little Jon's shoulder before floating a little ways away and tapping at his ear.
If it were anyone else, now might be a good time to talk. But Superman was keeping an eye on little Jon, obviously, and he'd hear anything they said. Jon tried to convey a sense of confidence towards little Jon. Little Jon looked at him, then back at Superman. He wiped at his eyes and sniffed loudly again.
