santa doesn't know you like i do
christmas in smallville, best friends in love, and clark kent finally realizing what he’s been missing. 6k words.
i have no idea what this even is like this plot js came to me in a vision while listening to santa doesnt know you like i do by sabrina carpenter, so yes it's LOOSELY based off of that. this is my first fanfic so please please please reblog it if you like!!
The Talon was alive with the glow of soft fairy lights, their twinkling reflections visible in the steam rising from countless cups of hot cocoa. The warm, inviting aroma of spices and freshly brewed coffee swirled through the air, mingling with the soft Christmas carols playing in the background.
And of course, as you were most days of the year, you were with Clark Kent.
Obviously.
“Oh my gosh, it’s so cold out there!” You shivered, brushing a bit of snow off your pink puffer jacket as you walked into the small coffee shop.
“Yeah, well, that’s the thing about winter,” Clark shrugged, giving you a soft smile as you walked over to a table. “It’s cold.” He chuckled, pulling out your chair for you to sit, like a real gentleman.
That was one of the things you loved about Clark— He was always so caring.
Well, of course, it was normal to be nice to your best friend, but there was something different about the way he did it. Clark was the kind of person who always wanted to help everyone, no matter who they were. He always saw the good in people.
You quickly snapped out of your love-sick daze the moment he started talking again. “So, do you have any plans for Winter break? Wanna come by the farm perhaps...?” Clark grinned at you in a way that was practically begging you to say yes.
“If you’re not busy, of course.” He added, not wanting to pressure you into agreeing.
Quite the opposite, actually.
“Uhm, no.” You laughed a bit awkwardly, wringing your hands in your lap to warm them up while scrunching your nose slightly.
“As embarrassing as it sounds, I have nothing on my itinerary till next year.. My parents kind of had to take an impromptu trip to Metropolis for uh... business. And they won’t be back till the day after Christmas, so I’m kind of on my own.”
Clark raised his eyebrows at that. He knew your parents often went away for long periods of time like this, but for Christmas? “Oh.. Well, you can stay with us if you want. My mom would love to have you around, y’know!” So enthusiastic, so sweet...
“Aww, that’s sweet, but I really can’t stay. I have to take care of Milky.” Milky was your adorable baby kitten, whom you and Clark had rescued earlier that year. Rescued from Lex Luthor running it over, actually. Lex really needed to start paying more attention to the road...
“But, I will be coming over a lot!” You clarified, watching how his eyes immediately lit up like a kid on Christmas—which was somewhat fitting. “Oh, and,” You set your little purse on your lap and began rummaging through it for something.
“Here.” You pulled out a somewhat crumpled piece of paper with a picture of an ice rink on it. “Look, an Ice rink. We can go ice skating!”
Ice skating had been one of your favourite hobbies as a child. You spent all of your pre-teen years in Metropolis, and the rink had been your escape from the busy world—something you really hadn’t needed since you moved to Smallville.
Because Clark had become your escape instead.
“Oh, wow, ice skating...” Clark nodded, lips parting slightly the way they always did when he was trying to think of what to say. “I... I don’t really know how to skate, though.” He said bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck with a slight blush spreading across his face.
That’s what he was shy about?! You couldn’t help but giggle at that. “Aww, Clark, you can’t skate?” Wow, you’ve actually found something that Clark can’t do. “Don’t worry, I can teach you! It’ll be lots of fun, trust me—”
“Hi guys!” A familiar voice chirped, causing you to shut up immediately. Lana Lang. She stood there, a small smile on her face, balancing a tray with mugs in one hand and a pot of coffee in another.
When you looked back at Clark, he was just... awe-struck. You know that look he gets, where his eyebrows furrowed together, but in a cute way, and his eyes got all big and innocent. “Hey, Lana.” He said softly, his lips curling into a little smile the longer he stared.
“I’m so sorry to have kept you guys waiting,” She sheepishly apologized, nodding towards the almost empty coffee pot in her right hand. “It’s just, with school out and the weather, we’ve been getting so many more customers, and we’re very understaffed right now.”
It was so ridiculous that you were actually jealous. Of course, Clark was talking to Lana, I mean, this was her cafe. And she was your friend. Besides, it’s not like every little interaction he had with her had some hidden romantic significance to it... Right?
Clark stood up, as if he was going to help her or something. “No, don’t worry, Lana. It’s fine!” He quickly said, looking around the place like he was searching for something to do. “You know... maybe I could help?”
Oh, who were you kidding?
Of course, Clark still liked her.
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“Aww, this baby is just SO cute!” Chloe Sullivan squealed, picking up Milky under her front legs, raising her in the air like baby Simba, and spinning her around. “You’re such a good girl!”
You looked up from the mountains of files you were rummaging through on the floor and gave her a deadpan look. “She’s a baby kitten, not a puppy, and she needs to be treated as such. Or she’ll throw up on you.” You warned with a small chuckle, resuming your work.
Since the school was closed for the end of the year, Chloe needed help moving some of her more important files to her house because journalism can’t wait for the new year, apparently. The only problem was that she was more focused on playing with Milky than actually packing.
Chloe scoffed dramatically, “You wouldn’t throw up on me, now would you?” She cooed, finally setting the small white kitten down and walking over to where you were. Chloe sat on her now-empty desk, legs dangling near your head.
“Sooo,” she smirked, cheekiness practically oozing out of her tone. “How are things with you and Clark?” Chloe gave a crooked little grin, making you roll your eyes.
Is this what you get for telling her all your feelings about him? But it only made sense for two girls in love with the same boy to confide in each other about this kind of thing.
“As good as things are going with you and Clark.” You retorted, finally standing up and setting a bunch of files into a cardboard box marked The Torch. “Ouch,” Chloe pouted, “That bad, huh?”
“I...” You stopped, taking a deep breath. Honestly, you didn’t even know what your relationship with Clark was. I mean, to him it was proabably 100% platonic, but to you it was 100% not.
“It’s worse than that. I wish I could just... tell Clark and get this over with. A no would be easier to live with than just... not knowing. But then again, I’m sure he’s still in love with Lana—you should’ve seen the way he acted around Lana at the Talon yesterday.”
Chloe raised a brow skeptically, “Do tell me more.” You looked back at her with a slight frown, but continued. “Fine. Lana mentioned that she was working double-time basically because they’re understaffed and over-crowded, and Clark got all... You know, ready to help and stuff.”
“y/n... Are you sure you’re not looking into this too much?” Chloe asked, standing up and following you as you just paced around the room. “I mean.. Clark acts that way with everyone. And besides, we all know Lana won’t hire him again after what happened last time.”
“You mean when he got fired after working there for one day?” You snorted, turning to look at the enthusiastic blonde. But in all honesty, Chloe did have a point.
“Look, I’m practically Lana's sister now, so trust me. She is totally over Clark. She has Jason now. And remember, you’re the one he’s going skating with. Not her.”
You sighed, running your hand through your hair and chewing on your bottom lip. “But what if Clark isn’t over her?”
“Well... Then you’re just going to have to get over him the way I did.” Chloe shrugged as if it was that simple, causing you to roll your eyes again.
“Oh, right, because saving your prom pictures with him from 2 years ago and still having his adoption records is ‘getting over him’. Yeah, sure, Jan.”
Chloe wanted to pout, but couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Hey, that’s mean.” She whined playfully, closing up the box of files and grabbing it as you both left the room.
“But I get it,” she suddenly said, voice softer for a moment. “It’s hard watching someone look at someone else the way you look at them..... Just stop worrying your pretty little head over this. Go on your ‘platonic’ date with Clark and have some fun for once, please.”
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The next morning came with clear skies and the kind of cold that bit your nose but looked beautiful anyway. Clark had picked you up in his truck earlier, smiling like yesterday hadn’t made your chest ache at all.
But for now, you’d have to push your feelings away and just... Live in the moment! Or whatever it had been that Chloe said.
The rink sparkled under strings of white lights, the kind that made everything look a little more magical — or maybe that was just him. The air was cold enough that your breath came out in clouds, but your heart was pounding too fast for you to really feel it.
“Catch me if you can!” You called out, laughter spilling from your lips as you skated backwards, watching Clark finally inch away from the railing. It was adorable. He was like a toddler learning to walk. “Are you okay?”
He looked so determined — brows furrowed, arms out like he was negotiating with the ice. “I-I’m fine!” Clark gasped, flailing his arms back in an attempt not to fall straight on the ice.
“Clark, you’re going two miles an hour,” you teased, skating toward him and taking his hand in yours. “It’s really not that hard.”
“I told you, I wasn’t built for the ice,” Clark grinned sheepishly, that adorable dimple showing, cheeks already turning red from the cold, probably.
“Look, you just need to bend your knees a little and push off, see?” You demonstrated, skating backwards, his hand firmly in yours as he tried to mimic your movement.
“Just relax.” You giggled, feeling him tighten his grip on you. “I am relaxed!” Clark mumbled, although his current disposition said otherwise. “Now you try.”
You let go of him for a moment, trying to show him how to push off with his feet— but the second you released his hand, he panicked. Clark, not wanting to fall, grabbed onto your waist to balance himself... tightly.
“Clark—!” you gasped, but it was too late. He slipped forward, pulling you down on top of him in a tangle of laughter and the cold kiss of ice.
Now you were both on the ground, your arms on either side of his head, your knees barricading him in, your lips so close to touching. It was straight out of a movie scene...
For a moment, it was like everything in the world stopped, and it was just you and Clark. You could feel his heartbeat— steady, heavy, impossibly close. His minty breath fanned across your cheek, fogging in the air between you.
You looked up, eyes locking with him finally, and suddenly, the laughter died in your throat. From this angle, you could really see the finer details of his face—the way the light hit his brown hair just right, almost creating a halo around him like an angel, or the way his eyes widened just a bit when he noticed the lack of space between you.
He was just so beautiful like this...
“Sorry,” he whispered, his voice low and sincere, but he didn’t move away yet.
No, he stayed there, hands still on your waist, thumb brushing against your bare skin in the softest, most absent-minded way. It really made you wonder—
Did Clark have any idea how he made you feel?
You should’ve kissed him. You had the perfect opportunity—the most convincing excuse, no one could’ve blamed you for it—but sadly, you didn’t take it.
Your eyes welled up with tears, your heart beginning to hurt. Were you just a coward? Scared of rejection? Whatever it was didn’t matter much right now.
The truth was—Clark Kent was never going to love you the way you loved him.
You swallowed hard, the whole world narrowing to the space between you. The air smelled like snow and peppermint and him. Your voice came out barely above a whisper. “You’re fine, Clark.”
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“Wow, this is a big tree.” You sighed, finally finished putting the last ornament on the giant Christmas tree in the middle of the Talon. “What is it, nine, ten feet tall?” Lana had mentioned needing extra help with decorations and just everything last week, so, as her friends, you and Clark came over to help.
“Twelve actually,” Lana giggled as she walked over to hold onto your hand, helping you get off this tall ladder you had to stand on to barely reach the top branches of the fresh evergreen tree. “Lex brought it in straight from Metropolis!”
“Oh really now?” You raised a brow, stepping back to admire your decoration for just a moment before getting back to work. Lana grinned. “Yep! He insisted that the Talon just needed some ‘big city holiday spirit’, whatever that means. Honestly, I think he just wanted to show off.”
You laughed, but then glanced around at the remaining piles of tinsel and boxes of lights. “Well, if he’s going to bring in a twelve-foot tree, then he should’ve sent a twelve-foot ladder too...”
Just then, Clark walked out from the back carrying a box full of pastries and goods that Martha had baked. “You two aren’t planning on decorating the rafters next, are you?” He asked, raising a brow.
Lana raised her hands in mock surrender, “No promises.” Honestly, it wasn’t hard to see why Clark had fallen for her in the first place. Lana was kind, always sweet, charming, effortlessly beautiful and a million other things too.
“So where do I take all of this?” Clark asked, gesturing to the stack of pies and cakes and whatnots he had in his arms. “Oh, I’ll show you, it’s right back here...” Lana took Clark into the back area of the Talon, leaving you there alone. Well, you did have a lot more decorating to finish.
You glance up at the rafters, eyeing the dusty beams above you. There was a lonely strand of garland and a few shiny ornaments peaking out of a closed box on the floor, practically begging to be used. You really shouldn’t.. But the Talon would look so much more cozy!
You eyed the ladder again, realizing it was not tall enough to reach the rafters. But, there was always the upstairs balcony—the one right outside Lana’s apartment—and maybe, just maybe, you could reach.
Despite all your self-preserving senses telling you to stop, determination and perfectionism won out, and there you were, stupidly dragging the box up the spiral stairs.
The balcony railing was only waist-high, and the drop to the cafe below made your stomach flip, but it was for aesthetic purposes, right? You swung one leg over, balancing your heel on the narrow edge, before climbing up to stand, gripping the garland tight in your hands.
You began wrapping the garland around the rafter beams quite easily, actually. It wasn’t long before you were nearly done. Then you decided to look down... The view from up there quickly became dizzying, but you were almost finished, so you couldn’t stop now.
You hooked one last strand of lights over a beam, balancing slowly as you carefully planned on how to get down safely—
And then, your balance slipped.
There was a sharp jolt, and the room spun in a fast blue-green and gold as you fell straight down, a loud shriek leaving your lips as you shut your eyes, bracing yourself for the impact—
But instead of feeling the cold, hard floor hit your head, you felt... warmth.
And suddenly, you weren’t falling at all. Strong arms caught you, solid and warm. For just a second, you blinked rapidly, breathless, heart beating out of your chest as your brain tried to catch up with what was happening.
When you finally did open your eyes, all you saw was Clark, holding you steady as if he’d just appeared out of thin air, watching you with a frown on his face. You stared at him wide-eyed, “Clark—how did you—?!”
He didn’t answer, instead choosing to scold you as he finally set you back down on your own feet. “Why would you do that, y/n?? It’s dangerous! You could’ve gotten seriously hurt up there—” Honestly, you weren’t even listening to a word he was saying.
“uh-huh...” You nodded blindly, already lost in your own fantasies again. “Clark,” You whispered, taking his hand to get his attention, “Look up.”
A mistletoe. Of Course.
“Oh...” Clark's eyes widened as a slight blush began to creep up on his face. “I.. I don’t know if we should do that y/n—”
You unexpectedly grabbed his hands and placed them on your waist, causing him to stumble forward nervously. “Clark, it’s tradition. We can’t break tradition!” You insisted, looking up at him with wide eyes and batting your long lashes at him just for effect.
“Please? Please, Clark.” You begged, cupping his face to pull him down closer to your height. “I know you want too...” You hummed, close enough to feel him breathe against your lips as your lashes fluttered shut.
You felt his fingers dig into your waist tightly. His other hand slid up your spine, threading into your hair and tugging you closer til you were pressed flush against him, heat rolling off his body.
The sudden closeness made you gasp, your breath hitching as your bodies moulded together in a way that left no space between you—and no question about what he wanted.
This was it, the moment you’d been dreaming of for the last 5 years.
Clark's eyes flickered down to your mouth, then up again, searching your face for any sign of hesitation before parting his lips against yours. He held your chin between his fingers as your noses brushed each other, and for just a moment, the world belonged to the two of you.
Your lips were just barely a breath apart, and the moment was perfect. Your heart was thundering in your ears, lips parted in invitation, so close you could taste the anticipation. And then—
“Hey, has anyone seen Lana—oh?” Someone’s voice cut through the moment like a sharp blade, the spell snapping as quickly as it had formed... Jason Teague.
Clark startled, stepped back from you so fast that you nearly lost your balance again. Your cheeks burned, heat flooding your skin as you tried to regain your composure. “Lana’s right in the back,” Clark mumbled hastily. “I-I need to go.” He said suddenly, turning away from you and walking out of the Talon.
Your eyes widened in irritation, although you weren’t exactly sure who or what it was directed at. But for now, Jason would be dealing with the repercussions of your anger. “Good job, Jason!” You growled, shoving him back into the staircase before grabbing your jacket and just storming out of the small cafe, tears threatening to fall.
You were so tired of this—every time you got close to Clark, something tore you apart again. It felt like the universe was conspiring against you or something, twisting the knife a little deeper each time you reached for him, only to have him slip through your fingers all over again.
Just then, Lana came out of the Talons' stockroom, frowning as she realized everyone else was gone. “Where’d everyone go?” She asked her boyfriend, raising a brow.
Jason chuckled with a cocky grin, shoving his hands into his jacket's pockets with a small shrug, “Let’s just say your mistletoe here is working overtime.”
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“Hi, Mrs Kent!” You grinned as you walked into the Kent house and took off your jacket and mittens. “What’s the emergency?” Clark had called, saying that you were ‘urgently needed’ on the farm and nothing else, so of course, you showed up without a second thought.
After the two almost-kisses last week had gone horribly, you’d kind of just been ignoring each other—so when he called you like that, you’d assumed it’d been something dire. Not baking.
“Oh, y/n, thank god you’re here,” Martha Kent smiled, whipping around to look at you. Your eyes wandered over the current state of the kitchen, which had practically become a bakery at this point.
The sweet, buttery scent of muffins baking in the oven mingled with hints of sugar and peppermint, filling the entire house. Swirls of flour dusted the counters, and thick globs of cookie dough dotted nearly every available space, making the place look like a delicious, beautiful mess.
And Clark was there too, of course, holding a tray of cupcakes straight from the oven—bare hands, no oven mitts, like he didn’t even notice the heat. For a split second, you wondered if your eyes were playing tricks on you. Steam curled up from the cupcakes, and Clark just grinned, completely unbothered—as if this was the most normal thing in the world. You had to fight the urge to blink twice.
How did he do that?
“I only have until Christmas Eve—which is tomorrow by the way— to get all these orders completed,” she continued, worry in her tone, “I have to finish the pies for Sheriff Ethan, and the cakes for the Rosses and—” Her voice trailed off as she listed the numerous people whom she had to bake for.
Clark walked over to you with a little smirk, taking his Walkman headphones off of his ears before saying, “What my mom is trying to say is that she wants your help with all the Christmas baking.” He flashed you that goofy, adorable smile, and suddenly you felt butterflies.
“Oh, of course!” You nodded quickly, already walking over to the countertop, looking at what you had to work with. “Hi.” You whispered, a small smile tugging at your lips as you looked up at him. “Hey,” Clark whispered back, eyes gazing over you with intent.
Your eyebrows furrowed together, confused. “What?” you mouthed, wondering why he was staring at you so intensely. “Nothing.” He shook his head, looking away from you with a little crooked smirk. Weird.
“You are a lifesaver, y/n,” Martha praised, placing an already-decorated set of little cakes into a box and tying it with a ribbon. “I need to go deliver this package to the Millers. You two get started with the gingerbread cookies in the meantime, okay?” Before you could blink, she swept out the door, the scent of cinnamon and vanilla trailing after her.
Your eyes darted to the cookie dough on the counter, then to Clark, then back to said cookie dough. “So....” you mumbled, biting your lip gently. You really hadn’t spoken to him much—or at all—since that day at the Talon, and you were at an all-new high for being conflicted about your feelings today!
“So,” he mimicked, picking up a rolling pin to get started on the dough, “do you have any idea how to do this because I don’t—” He chuckled, the warmth of his voice breaking the tension in the room immediately.
After that, the awkwardness melted away, and you both slipped back into your old rhythm. Side by side, you mixed dough and talked for hours, laughter bubbling up between you as if nothing had ever gone wrong. For a while, it felt like the world outside of him didn’t exist at all.
As you two began to decorate the gingerbread men, your thoughts couldn’t help but drift to what tomorrow would be like. Yes, it was Christmas Eve, you knew that—But it was also something more special.
Every Christmas Eve, ever since you both were twelve, you and Clark had something like a tradition. Basically, you two would go up to his loft at night and watch some Christmas movie together. For some reason, it’d always been the nightmare before christmas. And after the ‘incident’, you weren’t sure if you’d be doing it this year.
“Uh, Clark.” You turned to look at him, setting down your piping bag. “Yeah?” He hummed, eyes staying very focused on his cookie right now, trying his best to be precise with his piping.
“Are we like...” You sighed, closing your eyes and hoping this didn’t sound needy to ask, “Are we doing the thing tomorrow night?” You finally asked, opting for the word ‘thing’ instead of ‘tradition’ because, well, you didn’t wanna make it sound like you cared that much about it... Even though you did. A lot. Maybe too much.
“Oh.” He raised his eyebrows, glancing over at you as he straightened, the gingerbread man now forgotten as he focused his attention entirely on you.
“Well, I was planning to...” Clark watched your face carefully, trying to gauge your expression for any sign of disapproval, “Unless you don’t want to—” He quickly added for clarification, “Because I wouldn’t want to force you too...?”
You shook your head almost immediately. “Nonono—Clark. I want to.” You said earnestly, looking up at him with your big, pleading eyes, subconsciously holding onto his arm without even realizing it—but he did, of course. “Trust me, I do.”
“O-Okay...” Clark stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He rubbed the back of his neck, face flushed, as if your touch short-circuited whatever he’d been about to say. He tried to hide his face from your eyes, but you noticed the redness spreading across his cheeks anyway.
“Are you okay? You look really red all of a sudden...” You frowned, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead to check for a fever. “Wow, you’re burning up—”
“Yes—Yes, I’m okay!” Clark said all too quickly, practically jumping back from you as he turned away from you. He shut his eyes as he groaned in pain, a little gasp leaving his lips. “Clark, do you want me to call a doctor?!” You asked, worried at his sudden change of mood.
“No! No, don’t call a doctor, just...” He whipped back around, eyes wide and wild—
In an instant, a flash of searing heat burst through the kitchen. You barely had time to gasp before flames erupted across the curtains, burning the fabric to a crisp almost immediately.
“Oh my god!” You shrieked, stumbling back from the sudden fire. Instinctively, you clung to Clark's arm, heart racing. “How did that happen?!”
Clark stared at the fire, wide-eyed and mortified, his cheeks somehow even redder now. Holding onto you as if he could shield you from the fire, he whispered, “I don’t know—”
Before either of you could move, a door upstairs slammed open. Heavy footsteps came running down the stairs as Lois Lane burst into the kitchen, hair a wild mess from being asleep, as it seemed, still in her pyjamas and fluffy bunny slippers on her feet, eyes blazing.
“What the hell is going on down here, Smallville?!—” She stopped dead at the sight of the flames.
Without missing a beat, she grabbed the fire extinguisher from by the pantry, yanked the pin off with her teeth, and unleashed a cloud of white foam all over the burning curtains.
Lois had never been one to back down at the sight of danger or wait for someone else to do something about a situation. She probably got her intrinsic sense of initiative from growing up on a Military base.
The fire sputtered and died, leaving the curtain a dripping, smoking mess. Lois whipped back around at the two of you, putting her hands on her hips with a glare. “You two trying to cook the whole place or just yourselves?” She deadpanned.
Clark stared down at his shoes, cheeks flaming for an entirely different reason now.
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The next night, you showed up at the loft, all dressed up because... Well, it was Christmas Eve.
You were wearing a short, deep crimson velvet dress that hugged your curves and fell at your thighs, the soft fabric catching the light with every movement. Your legs were clad in sheer, black lacy stockings with a delicate floral pattern that peeked out just above the hem of your dress.
On your feet were kitten-heeled burgundy shoes, elegant and playful with a subtle bow at each ankle. To top it all off, a matching velvet headband nestled in your hair, giving you that perfect balance between festive and flirtatious.
You slowly climbed the stairs of the dimly lit barn, bracing yourself for another evening spent with him, unable to confess how you really felt.
When you reached the top of the stairs, you found Clark fiddling with the little old TV that you’d both used for movie nights since you were kids. As you stepped into the light, he looked up—and froze.
For more than a moment, Clark just stared. He stared, mouth parted slightly as if the words had just slipped right out of his head. It took him a few seconds to regain his thoughts as he finally spoke, “Wow, you look beautiful...”
“Thank you.” You blushed as you tried to bite back a grin, failing miserably. “You know,” You walked over to the couch and sat down right beside him on the floor, leaning your back against the sofa.
“You look quite handsome yourself...” You whispered, a spark of mischief in your tone as you pressed your lips to the edge of his jaw. Clark's lashes fluttered shut for a moment as he tilted his head back in pleasure before snapping out of it.
“What?—” He gasped, startled, as he looked at you with wide eyes, suddenly scooting away from you a bit to put back some distance between you. “L-let’s just put the movie on..” Clark mumbled, almost fumbling around with the remote before pressing the play button.
Over an hour passed, and honestly? You should’ve been watching the movie because... that’s what you were here for, duh. But no, you were more focused on watching Clark instead.
It was a lie if anyone said he wasn’t watching you, too. You caught the way his gaze lingered when he thought you weren’t paying attention, those little glances that made your heart flutter. With the way he looked at you, you knew now that this just couldn't be a one-sided crush.
And suddenly, you had an idea. “Clark,” You whispered, rubbing your arms as you shivered slightly, biting your lip for dramatic effect. “It’s so cold.”
“Oh—uh, do you want me to go get a blanket?” Clark offered, as he immediately sat up straighter, ready to do whatever you wanted him to. You shook your head, “No. I just wanna..” You sighed, leaning your face into the crook of his neck and wrapping your arms around his torso. “Mmm, s’warm.”
Clark's body visibly stiffened at the unexpected contact, but then he melted into your embrace, arms wrapping around your small body as he pulled you closer into him. He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your hair before tucking your head under his chin.
You could hear the sound of his heart beating against your body—that’s how close you were. Nuzzling closer, you grinned against his neck. “You’re like a human furnace, you know that?”
Clark laughed softly, voice rumbling in his chest. “Well, at least I’m good for something, huh?” You looked up at him with a slight frown, noses almost touching. “You are good for a lot of things, Clark Kent.” You teased, pressing a finger to his chest and dragging it down his tan skin.
“Oh yeah?” He raised a brow, watching as you began to unbutton the top of his blue flannel shirt. “Like what?” Clark asked, curious to see where you were going with this, though it made him blush furiously.
You bit your lip hard, suddenly feeling shy yet still unable to look away from him. “Like.. Making me feel safe.” You hummed, throwing one thigh over his lap and pulling yourself up to straddle him.
“And always being there for me...” You continued, throwing your arms around his neck and pressing your forehead to his. “O-Oh yeah?” Clark pushed, grabbing onto your waist tightly to steady himself.
“Oh yeah...” You whispered, pulling back from him again, just for a moment as you ran your fingers through his dark hair, tugging at the locks lightly. “And the way you make my heart race just by looking at me...”
Clark's eyes widened, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise when you said that. He swallowed, Adams's apple bobbing in his throat. “You do the same thing to me.” He admitted, unable to take his eyes away from your piercing stare.
“Yeah?” You asked, yanking his head back to reveal the soft, supple skin on his neck. Your lips hovered over his so close you could feel his shaky breath trembling against your skin. His hands tightened at your waist, and he nodded, eyes flicking to your lips. “Please, y/n.” he breathed, voice barely above a whisper.
Right now, the room felt smaller, warmer, and the outside world had faded until it was just the two of you—and that was all the confirmation you needed.
You closed the distance, pressing your mouth to his—a gentle, searching kiss at first, both of you having been pent up like this for ages. But then Clark’s hand slid up your back, pulling you impossibly closer, letting your weight tip him back until he was lying flat on the barn floor, the movie in the background long forgotten.
“Clark, mmm...” You gasped as the kiss deepened, hunger and relief mingling as his lips parted under yours, and you felt him sigh into your mouth. His fingers threaded through your hair, holding you to him as you melted against his chest, your bodies moving in perfect sync. You lost track of how long you stayed like that, tangled up in each other.
“Y/n,” Clark finally rasped, breaking the kiss with effort. He caught your wrists and pinned them gently above your head with one hand, eyes dark and wild with need. Then, with a shaky breath, he sat up, sweeping you into his arms and carrying you over to the couch.
“I think we should take things slowly...” He hummed, settling you in his lap before burying his face against your throat, nuzzling and breathing you in, trying to memorize every part of you.
You blinked rapidly, pressing your cheek against his hair and closing your eyes shut tight like you wanted to savour this moment forever. “Y-yeah?” You whispered, fingers absentmindedly, nervously playing with the buttons of his shirt.
Clark pulled back for a long moment. He just stared at you, drinking in every detail of your face. “Yeah...” He murmured, thumb stroking your cheek. He tipped your chin up, his mouth brushing yours. He whispered against your lips, “You’re the only one I’ve ever really loved y/n...”
Your eyes widened as your eyebrows scrunched together into a little frown on your face. “But what about Lana—” You began, doubt flickering in your tone, but he quickly silenced you with another kiss, the words immediately dying on your lips. You held his face in your hands, crawling into his lap again.
“I don’t want Lana, I want you.” He promised, his voice a low growl against your mouth as he looked up at you with those big puppy eyes of his. “It’s always been you... It just took me a while to realize it.” Clark tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes dark with longing, then leaned in for another kiss—this one deeper, slower, his hands roaming your body.
A small, blissful smile crept onto your lips as he kissed you again and again, hands tangled in his hair. “Merry Christmas, Clark.” You breathed, lips brushing against his as he cradled your face in his warm hands.
“Merry Christmas, y/n...” he whispered, his voice trembling with feeling as he pressed a lingering kiss to your lips. “I love you.”