Friends Don't Kiss
Summary: Clark Kent x fe!Reader -> When your family is in town, Clark offers to be your fake-boyfriend. Only, things take a slightly stressful turn (for you), and a shocking twist (for both of you).
Disclaimer: light swearing, fake-dating, friends to lovers, might do a part two, platonic!jimmy, fake-dating but also not...sorta, fluff, rom-com vibes, sitting in Clark's lap, reader loves their family but they can be...a lot.
You gasped, quickly, before jumping behind Jimmy who seemed confused and concerned as ever. “Quick! Hide me.”
“W-What? What’s happening?” Jimmy stuttered, turning around, but standing in front of your desk.
From across the bullpen, near the elevator, a woman dressed in a loud blouse and a neutral pair of trousers was looking around the place.
“Pretend to be working,” you whispered, before reaching for a random file and thrusting it into Jimmy’s hands.
“Who is she?”
“My mother.”
“That’s your mom?”
You nodded, though he couldn’t see you. “My family are in town.”
“You don’t sound happy about that.”
“Of course, I’m happy,” you whispered, packing up your things to try and make it look like you hadn’t been at your desk all day. “They’re my family. I love them.”
“But?”
“But they’re a lot, all at once. And I’ve been avoiding their…questions.”
“Questions?” Jimmy asked, looking over his shoulder. “Questions about what?”
Looking up, you almost squealed and pushed Jimmy’s face away from you. “Don’t look!”
“Sorry. Questions about what?”
“Where do you wanna start? My city life, my love life, my career, my choice of colour in my living room?”
Jimmy chuckled, pretending to pay attention to the file in his hands. “That’s usually what families are like. My sisters do the same-”
“No,” you whispered. “No, no, no. Not like mine. They are relentless. So, just– if anyone asks where I am-”
“I don’t know you and you don’t exist?”
Jimmy heard you take a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Jimmy smiled. Placing a kiss against your fingers, you touched his shoulder.
As you scooted away, trying to avoid your mother, you managed to make it to the elevator successfully before you saw your mother almost accost Jimmy.
You made a silent prayer for him as you watched the doors close on the bullpen and you were sent to the ground floor of The Daily Planet.
Managing to make it as far as two blocks, it wasn’t until you reached a small diner and found a corner booth that you managed to take a breath.
And ran into someone you knew.
“Clark?”
Seeming just as shocked as you, Clark turned around and looked at you.
“What are you doing here?” You both asked.
“I’m…getting food.” Clark seemed a little shifty, but he was almost always like that. Fixing his tie, he walked closer to your booth.
“I’m…also getting food.”
“Really?” He asked.
You sighed. “And avoiding my family. I left my mother with Jimmy.”
Clark gave you a warm smile and slid into the other side of the booth. “Why are you leaving your mother with Jimmy?”
“Because I’m avoiding her.”
“And why are you avoiding her?”
“Because I don’t want to answer any more questions.”
A waitress appeared at the end of the booth, a pad and pen in hand. “Can I get you folks anything?”
You and Clark looked at each other. “Uhh. Sure. I’ll have the lunch combo and an iced tea, please.”
She wrote it down and then looked at you.
“I’ll have the same, please.”
“Coming right up.”
As the waitress walked away, you and Clark turned back to each other.
“What questions?”
Over the next hour, you told Clark about what had occurred in the last forty-eight hours since your family had landed in Metropolis.
They had heavily judged your choice of colour in your living room: you didn’t take offence, but it was annoying to listen to.
They continued to tell you the difference between the city and home, constantly repeating that it was too fast, too loud and too much. They told you stories of home that you had already heard about several times before in the same sitting.
Then they questioned your love life.
Which was the worst of all.
To them, if you still lived closer to home, you would have time to find someone nice. Someone you could have a white-picket fence dream with. They might have grandchildren from you. You would be happy.
“I thought you were happy here,” Clark said.
“I am! I really am. Does it get hectic? Yeah. But there isn’t a thing I would change about it. And sure, maybe it would be nice to have that whole nuclear family dream. But…I don’t like the standard. I like my job. I like…my life.”
Clark chuckled a little as he watched you, visibly more stressed than you were when it came to interviewing criminals and billionaire psychopaths.
“But they’re stressing you out?”
You nodded, tired. “Yes. Very much. I love them. But…I needed an afternoon away from the questions and the random strangers my family say they’ve met during the day and showed my picture to.”
“They actually do that?”
“They’re really desperate for more grandkids.”
“Have you asked them to lay off?”
You just gave Clark a stare. Your face said everything your mouth didn’t.
“Right.”
“Is there anything that you could do that could get them to lay off?”
“Have someone,” you mumbled. “Not that I’d subject anyone to that kind of torture. Plus, fake dating leads to fake break-ups. So, it really just postpones the ‘why are you still single?’ questions and brings forward the ‘see, I told you, you would be happy if you found someone’ and the ‘when are you getting married?’ questions.”
“What if I did it?”
“Clark. No.”
He shrugged. “Why not?”
“First of all, you’re my friend. I do not want to ever subject you to that kind of torture. Secondly…no.”
Clark chuckled. “I’d make a great-fake boyfriend.”
“I don’t disagree. But, no.”
“It would get them off your back?”
“Clark, I’m not forcing you to be my fake boyfriend just to make my life a little easier. If you don’t hate me now, you will once they finally leave.”
Clark smiled, warmly. “I could never hate you.”
“Clark,” you said, your tone serious. “I’ve had boyfriends break-up with me after they’ve met my family. My high school boyfriend – the day he broke up with me was the day before he moved away for college. He told me that he wanted to break up twelve months earlier but was too scared because of my family.”
“That they would…kill him?”
“No,” you shook your head as you took a sip of your drink. “Just that they would pester him into getting back with me. They really laid it on thick about the whole picket-fence family thing, when they met him.”
Clark frowned a little. “Did you love him?”
You shrugged. “It was young love. I do wish he had told me, though. We were good friends outside of our relationship, before it. Last I heard he was getting married to his college sweetheart.”
“I’m guessing your family…”
“I never mentioned anything to them. I liked the relationship we had and, other than at the end, I don’t think badly about it. He was nice.” You shrugged. “My point is, I’m not introducing you to my family as my…fake-boyfriend.”
“But they wouldn’t know it’s fake.”
“No, they’d think it was real. Look, Clark, I love you. And I appreciate the thought but…I’m not putting either of us through that.”
Clark nodded. “Fair enough. But, if you change your mind-”
“I won’t.”
“If you change your mind, just tell me,” Clark smiled.
Although your mind didn’t change much on the matter; Clark was your friend and, despite whatever other feelings were lurking inside the locked room where you kept them, you cared for him too much to subject him to your family’s interrogation strategies.
It was three days later, however, that you found out neither you or Clark had much choice in the matter.
“My mother thinks we’re dating,” you said, quickly, your voice coming out panicked as you reached Clark’s desk.
Clark chuckled. “Did you finally tell her?”
“No! She told me.”
“What’s going on?” Jimmy asked as he approached the desk. “You’re…dating?”
“No.”
“No. But I offered to be Y/n fake-boyfriend whilst her family’s in town.”
“Really?”
Clark nodded, and Jimmy just accepted his answer. Then they both looked back at you.
“My mother, told me, that we,” you gestured frankly between yourself and Clark. “Are dating.”
“She told you?”
“She told me.”
“She told you?” Jimmy asked, to confirm.
“She told me!”
“Okay, okay. Take a breather. What do you mean she told you?”
Jimmy rolled a seat over for you and you sat down, letting Clark reach out and roll you closer to him and Jimmy.
“She’s been acting strange for, like, the last two days. Stranger than usual. Then, this morning, at breakfast, she blurted it out. She wanted to know when I was finally going to tell her that I was seeing someone.”
“And…she thought it was-”
“Clark.”
“Why?”
“Hey!”
Jimmy panicked a little. “Not like…eww why you? Just, like, why?”
“Because someone told her Clark was my partner, but didn’t clarify which kind.”
That was when realisation washed over Jimmy. “Oh.”
“What ‘oh’?”
“When she was here, she asked if anyone would know where you are. I mentioned you and Clark…I didn’t think I had to clarify. I’m so sorry.”
You nodded, a little relieved to find out who had told her.
“Okay, okay. Right. Okay.”
“What did you say to her?”
“That we just worked together,” you told Clark. “But she wouldn’t believe me. She’s convinced I’m lying and now she wants to meet you.”
“Do you want me to be your boyfriend?”
“Clark – you don’t know what they’re like.”
“Do you want me to play your boyfriend?” Clark asked, once more, keeping his gaze fixed on yours.
Your mind was running a million miles an hour. He was your friend. Your friend. Friend.
“I-I don’t know.”
“You guys better agree on a solution.” Jimmy said, his gaze fixed on the bullpen.
“Why?” You asked.
Barely two seconds later, you heard your mother and sister’s voice.
“Mom-”
“There she is! Y/n!”
Trailing after your mother, your sister shot you an apologetic look.
“Mom,” you stood up quickly and accepted her hug. “What are you doing here?”
“Can’t a mother visit her daughter at work? It’s such a lovely building- hello again, Jimmy.”
“Mrs Y/l/n,” Jimmy smiled. “I-I uh, I think I can hear- yep. Coming, boss!”
Coward, you thought as Jimmy ran away.
“And you must be…Clark,” your mom gave you a knowing side-glance which everybody saw. “My daughter’s ‘partner’.”
Clark looked at you, a little uncertain, but he laughed along. “Yes, ma’am. Y/n and I work-”
“Oh, don’t worry, honey,” you mom whispered. “I already know.”
“Know…what?”
Your mom chuckled before bringing Clark in for a hug. “You’re family, now, honey. It’s so lovely to finally meet my daughter’s partner.”
“Mom-”
“So, tell me, Clark. Where did you grow up?”
As Clark told her, you stood beside your sister.
“I did try and pull her away, but she was determined,” your sister whispered to you. “Have to say, though…he’s cute.”
“We’re not dating.”
“He’s still cute,” your sister said. “Even better looking than you described. I can see why you like him so much.”
“I don’t-”
Your sister shot you a look and your voice died away. You hadn’t ever said it outright, but she knew. You knew she knew.
“Shut up.”
“Just saying,” your sister whispered before she nudged your shoulder lightly.
Your mom’s voice suddenly grew louder in her excitement. “Are you free tonight, Clark? I would love it if you’d join us all for dinner. I’m cooking.”
“Where are you cooking?” You asked.
“We can use your apartment, sweetie. I’m sure Clark knows where it is.”
Clark chuckled. “Yeah, I know where it is.”
“See! Then it’s set. And, since most of us are here, you can meet the family.”
That was how, despite your disagreement with the arrangement, you were practically yanking Clark into your apartment.
“Please save me,” you whispered. “I think if I have to endure any more this evening, I might explode.”
“We’ll be fine.”
“How’s your appendix?” You asked him, as he removed his coat. “Inflamed? Those need to be checked out, you know.”
“My appendix is fine. Or so I hear. It was removed when I was twelve.”
“Fever?”
“I'm at a normal temperature.”
“Feeling nauseous?”
“Nope.”
“Really? I am.”
Clark chuckled, hanging up his coat and pulling you into a hug. “We’ll be fine.”
Then it began.
From round the corner, your mother broke out into a loud cheer. “Look who’s here, everybody!”
Credit where credit was due, Clark was an excellent dinner guest and, after giving up on correcting your family for the seven thousandth time, played an excellent boyfriend. He was kind, had manners, and kept you calm.
Though, the part he played wasn’t a far cry from his usual actions when he was around you. Or most people, really.
But then came the time for sitting down at a place that wasn’t your dinner table.
Returning from the bathroom, you found no seat available. Your parents were sitting together, side by side, on your sofa. Your sister and her husband were together on the arm-chair, their two children were on the floor, playing together surprisingly well-behaved. Your other sister was lounging on the beanbag she’d pulled from your hallway closet – and Clark was sitting in the final armchair which was just a little too small to completely fit his large frame.
“Darling, it’s okay. You can sit like your sister does,” your mother said, gesturing to your sister and brother-in-law. “It won’t be awkward.”
Yeah, maybe not for you.
Clark looked at you, trying not to laugh out of nerves and your reaction to your mother’s statement.
“Your mom doesn’t think it’s awkward, sweetheart.”
You glared at Clark whilst your sister, who was sitting in the beanbag, held her laughter back.
Thankfully, whatever conversations had been taking place when you were in the bathroom started back up again.
But your internal awkwardness remained.
Finally reaching Clark, you let him take your hand.
“Go on, Y/n,” your sister chuckled. “Sit with your boyfriend.”
“I hate you, both.”
Clark pulled you round and opened his legs a little, letting you slide between his lap and the chair before hooking your legs in between his.
“Comfortable?”
You hummed, trying to avoid the awkwardness. Then, quickly, Clark’s hand came to your hip and pulled you into a slightly more comfortable position.
“You okay?” You felt Clark’s breath on the shell of your ear.
“Tired,” you answered, honestly. “You’re more comfortable than I thought.”
You felt Clark’s chest under your hand as he chuckled. “Thank you.”
“How are you feeling?” You asked him, your eyes finding his gaze.
“Good,” he told you, his eyes landing on yours. “Happier, now.“
“Really? How?”
You watched as Clark’s eyes took in every inch and curve of your face as you spoke.
“You’re here,” he said, his voice soft and his gaze landing back on yours.
Unable to hold his eye contact in fear he’d realise those buried feelings – the ones you kept locked away, and for good measure – were banging, trying to knock down the door. You looked away.
But he didn’t let you go.
As the sun set, and night started to creep into your apartment, your family started disbursing. Eventually, it was just you and Clark, alone in your apartment.
“Thank you, for today,” you smiled at him, tiredly. He’d already got his coat on and you were sending him home with leftovers.
“You’re welcome, but you don’t have to thank me. Good food, good company. Nothing to complain about.”
“Really?”
Clark shrugged. “Well, I guess your mom could have tried to be a little more subtle but– I’m kidding. You can tell she’s doing it out of love. They love you. They just want to see you happy with someone, too.”
You smiled, a little, and nodded. “I know they do. And, just so you know, even if she does eventually accept our fake-break-up, you will still be receiving an invite to my sister’s wedding as my date.”
“I’m sure you’ll have someone real, by then.”
“I doubt it, but thank you for the hope.”
Clark chuckled. “You’re welcome. I guess, goodnight and see you on Monday?”
You smiled, watching as Clark opened the door. “Goodnight and see you on Monday.”
Sharing a quick kiss, then a hug, and another kiss, you and Clark said goodbye to each other and you closed the door behind him.
It wasn’t until you were walking back towards your kitchen, to put the rest of the leftovers away, that you stalled in your tracks.
Kiss. Hug. Kiss again.
Kiss. Hug. Kiss again.
Kiss. Hug. Kiss again.
“Oh, fuck.”
Turning back quickly, you rushed towards your door. But then stopped. Maybe Clark hadn’t noticed. It was innocent. Friendly.
But you and Clark never kissed.
You hugged. You didn’t kiss.
Kiss. Hug. Kiss.
“Don’t be stupid,” you mumbled to yourself as you turned away from the door.
Then you turned back.
Only to turn away again. Clearly, Clark hadn’t noticed. And what would you say to him if you did open the door, when he didn’t notice? No. It would just end up awkward.
You were friends.
Kiss. Hug. Kiss.
It was innocent.
Kiss. Hug. Kiss.
It meant nothing.
Kiss. Hug. Kiss.
Someone knocked on your door.
Deep down, you knew who it was. But you still tried to convince yourself it wasn’t him. Maybe it was your neighbour, coming to ask to borrow a cup of sugar?
Taking a breath, you opened up the door to find Clark standing on the other side.
“Hi,” he said, a little out of breath.
“Hi,” you replied.
“Am I…I’m sorry.”
He walked away, quickly and in a state of confusion.
“Clark?”
He stopped in his tracks before turning, slowly, to face you.
Neither of you said a word. You didn’t have to. It was what made you both such good work partners. You didn’t have to communicate using just words. Most often, a look would do the trick.
Within seconds, Clark’s hands were cupping your face and his lips were kissing yours. A small, breathy moan came from the back of your throat; and it made Clark weak at the knees.
“Oh, my god.”
You didn’t realise until Clark pulled back for a moment that you were both back inside your apartment, the door closed, and the small of your back was braced against the back of your sofa.
“Please tell me we can do that again?” Clark asked, his hand running from your hair and down your neck.
You nodded, a little breathless. “Yes. Yes, we can do that again.”