serendipity. [superbat]

domesticity.

a/n: sorry if there are mistakes but i had to rush to post this before my internet dropped again.

He needs to fix Bruce a plate. It's the first thought that enters Clark's mind after stepping into his apartment and placing the stack of Tupperware on his kitchen counter. Though, first he needs to check on Bruce. Clark makes his way into the bedroom and flicks on the lamp on the bedside table. 

It takes him a solid minute to realize that he's stepping on something and another to come to the conclusion that it's Bruce's lounge pants. Inside those lounge pants, are his underwear. Clark glances over at the still sleeping man. Maybe he'd gotten up at some point and switched to his silk pajama bottoms. Clark yanks the duvet back and is met with Bruce's bare ass.  The shirt he'd borrowed has migrated up to rest almost under his armpits. 

The display allows Clark to see Bruce's stomach. The bump has gotten a little bigger since Clark had last laid eyes on it. It's still not much compared to what it will be, but Clark can't help but smile at the progress. 

Clark wants to just leave and pretend like he hadn't seen anything, but Bruce needed to eat. So, Clark tosses the duvet back over him and jostles him a little until he finally peels his eyes open.

"Hey, Ma made dinner." Clark whispers to the sleepy man and watches as he quietly grumbles to himself.

He watches Bruce sit up, the duvet pooling in his lap before, based off of the look on his face, something seemingly dawns on him. Clark can see the moment Bruce realizes that he's lost his pants and underwear at some point during his nap. His eyes scan the bed as if looking for them and it takes everything in Clark not to laugh. 

"I'm gonna go fix your plate, give you time to wake up a little." He mumbles, placing a kiss to Bruce's forehead and watching as his nose wrinkles.

By the time Clark's done fixing his plate, Bruce is settled on the couch in a pair of silk pajama pants that are being drowned by the giant t-shirt he's wearing. He doesn't look anymore awake than he had a couple of minutes prior. Clark places the plate on his lap and watches as Bruce goes from very little interest to practically inhaling mac 'n cheese without stopping to take a breath. 

Clark pokes at his own plate, trying his best to feign interest in eating, but he can't take his eyes off of Bruce. Mainly, due to the fact that he's noticed a bit of a difference in Bruce's cheeks. They've gone from being slightly gaunt to fuller, chubbier. 

He'd managed to steal a glance earlier, but Clark really hadn't had the chance to truly look at Bruce in a while, to take in the little differences, the small changes his body was going through. He got minute glimpses when Bruce needed to do an ultrasound, but other than that, Brice tended to hide away from Clark. Though Clark's sure, just like the clothing tantrum earlier, this wasn't exclusively about his body. 

He doesn't push it though, not wanting Bruce to pull away and curl back up into himself where he feels safest, so he quietly watches the man eat until he's done. Then, he takes Bruce's plate and places it into the sink before putting the rest of the food away. 

To his surprise, Bruce is still on the couch when Clark returns. He's staring at the TV that Clark had switched on as background noise and watching some news segment. It's nothing startling or even interesting, but Clark has the suspicion that he watches it out of habit. Clark makes his way back to the couch, slipping out of his shoes on the way, before plopping down next to Bruce. He's almost startled when Bruce shifts to get closer, leaning into Clark's side. 

Eventually, somehow, Clark ends up stretched out on the couch with Bruce on top him. He can hear some movie playing in the background, but his ears are focused on Bruce's breathing as the man slowly begins to drift again.