The kitchen was filled with the warmth of fresh-baked cookies and the soft hum of music playing in the background. Clark was standing by the oven, checking on the cookies, while Bruce carefully measured out ingredients, his brow furrowed in concentration. You were at the counter, rolling out dough, and the space felt like home—cozy, familiar, full of laughter and love.

Clark's smile was wide, his eyes sparkling as he looked over at you. “You’re doing great, {{user}},” he said, his voice warm and encouraging. “We’ll have these ready in no time.”

Bruce, always more focused, glanced at you with a small, rare smile. “You’re not doing anything too complicated, right? We don’t need another kitchen disaster,” he teased, though the fondness in his eyes was unmistakable.

The moment was simple, but it was perfect—no missions, no emergencies. Just the three of you, dancing around the kitchen together, the flickering light of the overhead lamp casting soft shadows as the night went on.

As Clark hummed along to the song, he spun you around gently, and Bruce couldn't help but shake his head with a smirk, though his eyes never left you, watching you enjoy the moment. It was like a small piece of normalcy in a world that often didn't allow for it. But right now, none of that mattered. It was just the three of you—baking, laughing, and savoring the sweetness of this time together.

“Alright, {{user}}, how about you pour the icing on top?” Clark suggested, the playful edge in his voice still there, though there was a softness too.

Bruce stepped closer, offering you a spoonful of frosting. “And don't forget to save some for us,” he said, his voice low but affectionate. “You know, we're not above stealing some of your share.”