home takes the form of a physical space and our own relationships.
for clark kent, home means smallville. the place which shaped him into the well-mannered, hardworking, empathetic, and passionate man meant to change the world as both a journalist and superhero.
but home also means you. the first person who he sees when he wakes up and the last when he goes to bed. who he looks forward to hear you laugh at his silly puns. who holds him accountable when he slacks at work and throws himself into danger unnecessarily.
and after the longest month of putting his body through the ringer, clark needs to go back to the two things that always recentre him. and that means bringing you to visit smallville for the first time.
the long drive to the kent house was soothing quiet with only your playlist cutting through silence. clark is staring straight ahead on the long winding road cutting through smallville's wheat fields. he's tense and you notice. you gently place your left hand onto his lap, soothing him in the process. he gives you a gentle squeeze as a thanks before slowing down to your destination.
as you pull into the driveway, the kents wave gleefully at your presence. they pull you into a tight embrace, saying how excited they are to see you. and after helping you with your bags, you and clark are treated to maās homemade dinner.
slow-cooked chicken, mashed potatoes, pan-fried vegetables, corn on the cob, freshly baked apple pie āand donāt forget the strawberry lemonade. you would not be upset with gaining a few pounds with how much ma has reached your heart and stomach.
yet clark is still tense as if he is holding the whole world. he shooed off his parents from doing the dishes and clearing the table. while heās scrubbing the pot, you sneak behind him and wrap your arms around his back.
come on babe. itās time to go to bed.
he turns head slightly to give you the same soft smile in the car. his eyes light up at seeing you, in his childhood house, in this domestic setting.
yeah, he says with long drawl in his voice, let's.
he dries the last remaining dishes and guides you to his bedroom, a hand placed softly on your lower back. he feels comforted, safe, warm with you here. as you reach towards the bedroom door, you turn to look at him in the dimly lit hallway.
i noticed you, you whisper, you're tense. it's worrying me.
clark's hands find your waist as he slowly soothes you. he notices you are trying to keep a smile on your face but your concern for him waves over your composition. he kisses your forehead and smiles.
darling, i'm fine. y'know that's how life gets. through thick and thin right?
you smile at his response. he does have a way with his words but not enough to convince you for just this second. you noticed the twinkle in clark's eyes, almost as if you hold the same stars that he stared at growing up.
through thick and thin, babe. but just know you need to relax. let me take care of you, you turn to open the bedroom door and yourself in. clark follows behind as he still keeps his hands softly around your waist and closes the door with a little kick behind him.
you turn around in his arms once again and placed a soft kiss on clark's lips. he's receptive, moving his hands up and down again to soothe but himself this time. you place your hand on his cheek to deepen the kiss slightly, yet not intensely. clark pauses his hands on your lower back and holds you as if you were about to blow away.
clark pulls back just to look at you once again, how about we head to bed? he gives you a dopey smile, the one that made you fall in love with him. he heads towards the bed, leading you both to lie down.
you place yourself on top of clark as you straddle his hips. you begin to rub your hands up and down his chest. massage? you questioned, looks like you're in need of it. clark looks up at you and nods with a smile. you then begin to move your hands towards his shoulders as you knead them gently. calm rushes over clark's face as the tension of literally carrying the weight on his shoulders slowly fades away.
come on, turn around, you lift your body to give clark some space for him to open up his lower back. you straddle his hips again as you work your way to massage his upper back and shoulders. clark sinks further into the bed as he begins to physically relax. you slowly work your way down towards his lower back, still maintaining a level of comforting pressure. you rub out all of the tense muscles and tendons that are missed by quick stretches.
after a few minutes of massaging his back, you try to tell clark to turn around but he does not respond. you peer over to see that he fell asleep, a soft snoring falling from his lips. you laugh at the sight of him as you lift yourself off to turn off the overhead lights and join him in bed.
just as you enter the sheets, clark automatically finds your body and holds you against his chest ā almost as if it is second nature. you reach to pet his hair as he likes to wind him down once more for some much needed sleep.
when the morning arrives, you hear a faint sound of clark slightly struggling to get up: darling, whatever you did with your hands, it is like a drug, good god. you laugh at his slight innuendo as you apologize for his inabilities. it's domestic. it's home, as needed for clark, and for you.
