Chapter Text
“Hey,” Clark calls out as he pulls the door shut behind him. “I’m home!”
No answer, just the clang of Clark’s keys as he hangs them on the hook, dropping his bag by the side table.
“Bruce?” he tries, shrugging off his coat. “Hm.”
Clark’s apartment is remarkably quiet. Not that Bruce is a noisy man by any means, but Clark is at least expecting an answer from him, especially after the mysterious text message he’d received earlier today.
Surprise for you at home, the text read.
That message brought all sorts of interesting and suggestive images to mind, and Clark already feels the heat rising to his cheeks as he scours his home for Bruce’s “surprise”, having thought about this moment all day at work.
Except that he can’t hear Bruce’s heartbeat in his apartment. Disappointment flickers in Clark’s belly, and he turns into the kitchen with a sigh, then stops short at the display on the dining table.
A bouquet of crimson roses flourishes in a crystal vase that Clark most definitely doesn’t own. Next to it there’s two glasses and a champagne bottle from a vintage he deliberately pretends to overlook, knowing it will have cost more than his monthly rent. Between the flowers and the wine sits a heart shaped velvet box, deep red with a pink silk ribbon. The label on the box reads the name of a chocolatier in downtown Metropolis that Clark has passed numerous times before, but never shopped from due to their luxurious prices.
“Oh,” Clark says. “How sweet.” He smiles, brushing his fingers over the petals of the flowers. His hand drifts down towards the box of chocolates. If only he had someone to share them with.
He wonders what game Bruce is playing with him, setting up this display and not even showing up for Clark’s reaction. Maybe something came up. He’ll ask Bruce later, when–
Clark freezes with the lid of the box in his hands. He stares down at the chocolates.
“Hi,” Bruce says, short-circuiting every neuron in Clark’s brain. He’s lounging on a velvet pillow in the middle of the box, propping his head up on a hand to look up at Clark from underneath his lashes, a sultry expression on his face and a keen smirk on his lips.
He’s also very tiny. And very, very naked.
Clark tries to swallow, mouth gone suddenly dry.
“Happy Valentine’s day,” Bruce murmurs, his voice low and dark with lust. The tone sends Clark’s blood into a hot simmer. “Fancy a chocolate?”
A smile pulls wide on Clark’s lips. “Don’t mind if I do,” Clark says, and reaches into the box.