Clark, for as long as he can remember, has always known he was different.

He’d always have to be careful playing with the other kids, second thinking all of his actions before he did anything. He had to learn how to make up excuses for some of the unexplainable things he did, lying to everyone around him except for his parents.

Not that he wasn’t grateful for his friends — he loved them. But it was hard, keeping such a big part of himself hidden. His parents were always open to him talking about it, but they couldn’t understand. Not really.

Clark still remembers when you were new to town, how quickly the two of you had clicked. He still remembers catching you hovering in your room after he snuck up to surprise you, and the panicked look on your face until he just grinned and did the same.

If the two of you were close before you’d found out what each other were, you were damn near inseparable now.

Clark didn’t need to keep anything from you, didn’t need to hold back his strength when you both fought over stupid things like the last cookie in the pack. For once, Clark could wholly be himself without worrying about hurting somebody or having the whole world find out about his secret identity.

He never asked to be different, but he finally feels like he has a place in the world with you.

Another day of you two hanging out in the loft above the barn ends up with Clark on his ass. Clark isn’t entirely sure when playful bickering over who gets to pick what to watch led to the two of you tussling for the honour.

“Hey! Watch it!” Clark says between laughs as he gets shoved into one of the hay bales, hair and clothes now covered in the stuff. “If you break anything, it’s me that’ll end up getting killed.”

The barn is already a mess. He’s dead as soon as Jonathan steps foot in here.