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One of the things Clark hates most about being Superman is knowing that he can’t save everyone. He can’t keep every single person safe, can’t stop them from being in pain. It hurts something in his soul, chipping away at him to know that no matter how invincible people think he is, it’s just not the case. He’s not some god sent to save everyone, he’s just Clark Kent, a boy who grew up on a farm and just so happens to have superpowers. Some days, it’s a blessing. On days like today, it’s a curse.
Case in point, his boyfriend, Buck.
Five years ago, Buck’s leg was crushed by a firetruck, and it took the help of the crowd around him to lift the truck off of him. Clark hadn’t been Superman at that point, nor known Buck, but he’s seen the news reports and the footage of everyone banding together to help Buck. It’s one thing to watch an event like that unfold on a screen, and it’s another to see the remnants in front of his eyes.
Buck has his good and his bad days. The chronic pain is still there, even on good days, but he’s able to go to work and ignore it for the most part, even if Clark finds himself overanalyzing every single one of Buck’s movements. He procured an arsenal of pain-relief medications when Buck first started coming around, even before they moved in. It was the least he could do, and it gave Buck a bit of relief, even if it was accompanied by embarrassment at first. Now they live together, and Clark memorized exactly which brands work for Buck.
Bad days are easy to spot, especially since Clark knows the signs. Clark’s always been a light sleeper, on account of his super-hearing. It was one thing going from a farm with mostly animals for company to a small school to LA and he had to learn to tune out the background noise. With Buck, though, it feels as though Clark is attuned to his every movement.
Today’s a bad day.
When Buck gets out of bed in the morning and grunts softly as he can, Clark can hear the fabric shift. Buck lets out a huff of minor annoyance and Clark can imagine the grimace on his face. Still, Buck keeps going, pushing the comforter to the side and shifting his legs to put weight on his good one. Clark admires Buck’s tenacity, but sometimes he really wishes he wouldn’t test his limits.
“Hey,” Clark says softly, turning over to look at Buck. He’s sitting on the bed, facing away from Clark, hands fisting the sheets as though he’s preparing himself for a great feat. Clark supposes it is appropriate. “You don’t have to go anywhere today, if your leg’s bothering you.”
Buck huffs. “I know, but I promised Bobby I’d make lunch for everyone today. He’s supposed to teach me a new recipe.”
“Bobby will understand. You’ve called in before,” Clark says gently. “This isn’t a last minute thing, and you’re not faking.”
Buck’s body is angled toward Clark, but he doesn’t seem convinced, fiddling with the slightly frayed edges of their sheets.
Clark throws the comforter off of himself and half-crawls until he’s slotting his chest against Buck’s back, only cottony fabric separating them. He reaches a hand down and starts massaging Buck’s upper thigh, drawing out a slight gasp of pain. The sound gives him pause, but Buck squeezes his hand, letting him know it’s okay to keep going.
“We can just stay in, eat ice cream and watch Love Island. I know you’re dying to know who wins,” Clark offers, mumbling into the side of Buck’s neck. “Besides, I’ve been told I give excellent massages.”
He can see the hint of a smile on Buck’s face, tinged with disappointment at the thought of letting his team down. It takes a few beats for him to make a decision.
“Okay. I’ll call Bobby. But only if you get me the Superman-flavored ice cream,” Buck compromises.
Clark rolls his eyes, not daring to stop kneading Buck’s upper leg. He can feel the tension start to relieve, and Buck relaxes further into him. “Of course you want that.”
“What can I say? I’m a fan of the big guy,” Buck says, a teasing lilt to his voice.
“Careful,” Clark warns. “Your boyfriend might think you’d rather be with Superman over him.”
“Maybe I like that my boyfriend’s a little jealous,” Buck says with a grin.
“Can’t really be jealous of myself, now, can I?” Clark shoots back.
“I dunno, Superman’s pretty hard to beat. That outfit? That cape?” Buck does his best imitation of a wolf whistle that gets cut short when he inhales sharply.
Clark rolls his eyes and shifts around, stepping out of their bed to grab pain-relief gel from the night stand. After only three months of dating, he told Buck his secret. That he was Superman. People might say that it was too soon, too big of a secret to tell. But Clark wanted Buck to know all of him, because every part matters. And he had to admit, he was getting a little sick of Buck pining over Superman. It’s become a bit of a joke between them, even though Clark will never admit that he’s jealous of himself. Because he’s definitely not.
Buck offers up his leg and Clark gets to work, rubbing the cool liquid in the areas he knows hurt the most. Buck groans lightly when Clark touches on a particularly painful spot. It’s the moments like this where Clark is grateful he’s able to help, even without his powers.
When they first got together, Buck had been a little hesitant about displaying his scars, but Clark hasn’t been able to see them as anything but part of Buck. He loves every thing about Buck and would love him with or without the scars.
“I think I got everywhere,” Clark says, standing up. “I can get started on breakfast. If you want, you can call Bobby while you’re waiting. Or I can do it.”
Buck looks up at him with those adorable blue eyes, curls all mussed from sleep. His voice comes out slightly cracked. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Of course you do, sweetheart,” Clark says, leaning down to kiss Buck’s curls. “You deserve everything I could ever give you.”
“I love you,” Buck says, like it’s easy as breathing.
“I love you, too,” Clark says back, because it is. Loving Buck is a facet of his life that is so deeply ingrained in him, he wouldn’t be surprised to find Buck’s name tattooed across his heart. Clark thinks himself lucky to have found someone with a big heart and that he gets to cherish Buck the way he does.
Buck smiles, a small, little thing, but there nonetheless, despite his pain. “I think the kiss is helping my pain.”
Clark laughs. “You need another one?”
Buck nods, and Clark plants another kiss on his forehead.
“Not there,” Buck pouts.
Clark keeps moving across Buck’s face, kissing him on his cheeks, birthmark, and nose before finally landing on his mouth. It’s a sweet little kiss, the perfect way to greet each other in the morning.
“That’s it.”
They spend the rest of the day curled up together, eating Buck’s favorite ice cream, which Clark does have to admit isn’t half bad. Clark lets himself rest easy, listening to the sound of Buck’s breathing as it evens out. Buck’s leg pain isn’t fully gone, but he feels significantly better by the end of the day, ready for whatever comes next.