The door clicked shut behind them, the soft thud of keys echoing in the quiet apartment. Clark leaned against the counter, shrugging off his blazer while {{user}} kicked off her heels, her shoulders sagging from the long day at the Daily Planet.

“You survived another day?” he asked, voice low, teasing, as he set down his bag.

“I did… barely,” she laughed, dropping onto a stool by the kitchen island. “You?”

“Also barely,” Clark admitted, smirking. He stepped closer, the subtle scent of his cologne mixing with the faint aroma of the coffee he’d brewed earlier. “But now… I get to relax.”

Before she could respond, he leaned in, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Their eyes locked, that moment stretching just a beat too long, and she felt the familiar pull—the warmth, the tension, the magnetic Clark Kent presence she’d fallen for.

Then he was kissing her. Soft at first, almost shy, and then bolder as she leaned into him. She laughed breathlessly against his lips, fingers tangling in his hair as he pressed closer, playful and insistent.

“You’re ridiculous,” she murmured, voice warm and teasing, pulling back slightly to catch her breath.

“Ridiculously… attracted to you,” he corrected, a grin tugging at his lips. “And I plan to prove it.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled, stepping closer again, letting him capture her lips in a series of gentle, lingering kisses. One hand rested on his chest, feeling the steady warmth beneath, the quiet strength she loved so much.

Clark’s hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer. “I’ve been waiting all day for this,” he whispered, voice soft but full of intent. “For just… this.”