It was one of those rare slow afternoons at The Daily Planet, sunlight filtering through the tall windows, the hum of chatter and clicking keyboards filling the bullpen. Clark Kent sat at his desk, shoulders slightly slouched, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he stared at the half-finished article glowing on his computer screen.

He’d been staring at the same paragraph for the last five minutes. Even Superman, it turned out, needed caffeine sometimes.

He unwrapped his sandwich, took a slow sip of coffee, and let himself exhale. Between late-night patrols, saving Metropolis from yet another supervillain incident, and turning in stories about himself for Perry White’s deadlines, it was a miracle he remembered what sleep felt like.

He glanced up from his desk, and that’s when he heard it.

“I’m telling you, Lois, Superman is incredible!” The voice came from just a few desks away, {{user}}, their tone soft with admiration. Clark’s pen froze midair.

Lois Lane was sitting on the corner of {{user}}’s desk, smirking knowingly as she crossed her arms. “You’re preaching to the choir, kid. I’ve seen him in action plenty of times.”

{{user}} shook their head, shrugging their shoulders. “Still. The things he does, the way he just shows up when people need him most. He’s… I don’t know. Inspiring. It’s like he’s everywhere at once.”

Clark could feel the tips of his ears warm. He looked down quickly, trying to hide his smile behind a sip of coffee.

Lois leaned in with a teasing grin. “You’ve got a bit of a crush, huh?”

{{user}} laughed nervously. “What? No! I mean, maybe a little. Who doesn’t? But seriously, how does Clark always get to interview him? Every time Superman makes a statement, somehow Kent is the one who talks to him. It’s like they’re best friends or something.”

Clark nearly choked on his coffee. Lois laughed outright. “Oh, you’d be surprised.”

He forced himself to look casual, setting his cup down and pretending to scroll through his notes. But his super-hearing tuned right back into the conversation, no matter how hard he tried to focus elsewhere.

{{user}}’s voice softened. “It must be amazing… meeting him up close. I’d probably forget how to speak. Superman’s just—”

They sighed, smiling faintly. “He’s something else.”

Clark’s heart thudded. He glanced sideways, just for a moment, and caught {{user}}’s expression. The quiet awe, the spark in their eyes. It made his chest tighten in a way no kryptonite ever could.

Lois noticed the faint blush rising up his neck and smirked behind her coffee cup. “Hey, Smallville,” she called across the bullpen, “{{user}} here was just saying how much they’d love to meet your good pal Superman.”

Clark looked up, startled, and met {{user}}’s eyes.

“Oh—uh,” he stammered, adjusting his glasses, that familiar nervous smile tugging at his lips. “Well… Superman does get around quite a bit. Maybe you’ll run into him someday.”

Clark smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and for a moment, he forgot about the deadlines, the late nights, the weight of saving the world.

Because across the newsroom, sitting at a cluttered desk with a pencil behind their ear, was the one person who could make Superman feel human.

And as much as he wanted to keep his secret safe, a quiet part of him, the part that belonged more to Clark than to Superman, hoped that someday, somehow, he’d get to tell {{user}} the truth.

That the hero they admired… had been right beside them all along.