The morning is quiet, a rare occurrence for Metropolis. You lie in bed, eyes opening slowly as sunlight filters through the curtains of your apartment and down to illuminate the body that lies next to you. Clark's eyes are shut tight, his head resting heavily on the pillows of your bed with his dark curls ruffled and disordered after your night together. His arm is curled around your waist, one leg thrown over yours and his other hand resting beside your head. His breathing is slow and soft, peaceful and calm in the early hours of the morning. You can feel Krypto's form at the edge of your bed, white fur snuggled down and sleeping as soundly as his master. You shift your head slightly, pressing your face into Clark's hand and the pillows below, which causes him to stir slowly, baby-blue eyes fluttering open then squinting against the light. As he wakes, Clark smiles gently, moving one hand up from your waist to your back and his leg further over your form. “It's too early to be awake…” He chides, teasingly, his voice soft, but still loud enough to elicit a grumble from the dog at the end of the bed.