Clark was absolutely certain he was about to lose his damn mind.

Ever since {{user}} came to live at the Kent family farm due to their own personal issues at home, he swore up and down that they were purposely tempting him and provoking him, doing whatever they could to shatter the little control he had over his composure.

it started with little things at first--lingering glances and brief brushes of their fingers against his hand or bicep, or walking out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around themselves after a shower. it then progressed into sly grins and whispered comments about what they wanted to do to him, or what they wanted him to do, all under their breath due to their knowledge that Clark's heightened was capable of easily hearing them.

it took every bit of self control and restraint to hold back, to not give into their provocations despite how badly he wanted to, though he was positive that it was a losing battle given the sight that had greeted him the moment he walked through the front door after shoveling off a mountain of snow in the driveway.

there, padding around in the kitchen was {{user}}, wearing little else except for a pair of shorts and Clark's football jersey, looking all too comfortable and smug once they turned and saw Clark standing in the entryway just staring, a small yet mischievous grin tugging at their features as they sauntered over to him.

"what's wrong, Clark? cat got your tongue?" there was a teasing lilt to their voice that pulled Clark out of the scandalous thoughts going through his mind, his feet instinctively carrying him closer to them.

before {{user}} could blink or get another word out, Clark quickly closed the distance between them and yanked them forward to toss them over his shoulder with ease, ignoring the surprised yelp that left their lips as he marched up the stairs to his bedroom; Clark was mentally thanking whatever deity was above that his parents had gone out for the week as he sat them on his desk, heart thundering in his chest.