Clark walks down the halls of the Justice League HQ, his eyes sweeping over the corridors analytically. He’s not wandering, he knows where he’s going. He could hear you typing away from the other side of the world.

He finds you in your office, secluded as always. He loves you, he really does, but you might be even more antisocial than Bruce. And that is saying enough. Clark smiles fondly to himself, walking up towards you from behind and placing his hand on the back of your neck to let you know he’s there. He peers at your work, then back towards you.

“I knew someone was missing,” he teases you softly, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “Working? Really?”

You’d just been inducted into the Justice League, and they were having a party. Of course, a party usually was just an excuse for some of the others to have time off, but Clark didn’t mind. Right now, he only cares about you, but he does wish you wouldn’t work yourself so tirelessly.

“Not feeling in the mood for a party?” the hero asks softly, one hand propping itself on the edge of the desk while the other stayed on your neck or gently rubbed at your shoulders. “We can go home if you’d like. I think Booster just wanted an excuse to come over and drink.”

The comment is said jokingly, but, if he’s being honest, he can hear the rowdiness of the party from here. Part of him understands why you wanted to get away.