Chapter Text
It was still the most comforting sound in his world. The gentle rhythm blocked out the cacophony of noises which wildly enveloped him-ones which his sensitive hearing picked up easily, ones that sometimes got too much to bear and ones which disrupted many of his dreamless sleeps; the variety was countless- ranging from the honking of horns from the early traffic below to the ringing of bells ten blocks away. But, every single time- she managed to conquer it without ever knowing.
Clark smiled at the fond memory from all those years ago.
"You-what?" her tone was of blatant surprise.
His, on the other hand was of instant panic. "It's just.." he gazed up into hazel eyes which took all the words away. "I tune into your heartbeat, Lois. When I'm away on rounds" It's the one thing which keeps me sane- he wanted to add, but no... he wasn't going to make this any more difficult for her.
Her face somehow became unreadable after that. And he couldn't do anything except wordlessly ponder on how much of an idiot he had been. He knew he shouldn't have indulged into her sense of privacy like that. He knew he shouldn't have alarmed her. He knew he should apologize that instant before it became worse, assure her he wouldn't ever do that again- he couldn't mess up now...not when he had to go round and round for three years before she finally agreed to go out with him. But no words came. The next were one of the longest two minutes in his entire life.
"Lois..." he tried weakly.
"Oh!" she seemed to snap out of her haze then. "I'm sorry- I was...." she raised her hands, she looked uncertain for a moment. "You're saying you listen into my heartbeat..uh- you can hear it when you are-" she made a swooshing gesture.
"Yes?" he said, tentatively.
She fixed him with a awed gaze.
"Wow!" she paused to revel on it. "That's- deep, Smallville." she was smiling now, and he was at yet another loss of what to say. She leaned back on her chair to stare at him from the opposite booth.
"But next time you decide to let me into Clark Kent's stalking adventures...work on that poker face of yours." she grinned from ear to ear, teasingly, and then whispered, loud enough for him to hear. "It's terrible."
She winked.
He could now sense the change in rhythm, though. In a minute, he would hear her curse the blanket tangled around her, then him- for intentionally not waking her up, and then the loud commotion as she made her way into the bathroom to get a head start on the morning. Typical, but still- bringing out a wide smile on his face, without fail.
And- Sure enough, as soon as he put the kettle to boil, he heard her mutter, "Damn quilt! I swear one of these days-". He smirked.
__________
Don't you think you would've liked if I had learnt to cook?" She asked abruptly as she took a sip of the morning coffee, shamelessly ogling him busying himself over the stove.
Clark turned to face her with a bemused expression, wondering what brought this on again and again.
"Don't you think we have experimented that enough, honey?" he reminded, a slight raise of his eyebrows illustrating his point. The last time she decided she wanted to assist him, the session concluded with burnt omelettes, a smoking kitchen and a frustrated Lois. He was willing to bet they wouldn't fare any better this time. It never stopped her, though.
Lois put the coffee mug down, rolled her eyes and made her way towards him from the far end of the dining table.
"Yeah, you tease me now, Smallville. I'm sure putting together the ingredients for a few silly pancakes is not as hard as you make it seem to be."
He bit back the smile. "Oh yeah?" he challenged.
"Why not?" She asked dismissively. "You waste a whole hour..." she searched for the right words ".... perfecting the crust- for heaven's sake!"
"Hm. Let's see...How many helpings do you take anyhow? Don't you think you should be giving me more credit on perfecting the crust, Lo?"
She shot him an unamused glare. "Very funny. But I'm sure I wouldn't take as long, anyhow. Maybe I can teach you to mix with a spatula? Plus point is- you'll get it done under half hour." she mocked.
And then, she snatched the mixing bowl from him and started whipping the flour, milk, eggs, cocoa and powdered sugar furiously.
"What do you think you are doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing? Try and Keep up, farm boy!"
"Lo!" he faked mild irritation now. "You're not doing it right!"
"There isn't a right way of mixing a bowl of pancake batter, Clark!" she told him, exasperated.
"Yes. There is." he said, very seriously. "And you are doing it- right now!"
She didn't bother to reply. But he could sense the determination in her eyes: Try and stop me
Two hands made their way around her waist. She nearly squealed as he effortlessly lifted her and placed her far away from the bowl. And before he knew it, they were fighting like dumb kids over a bowl of batter. Not that he minded. Not one bit. In fact, he thanked the universe for letting them have the moment to themselves. It was a rarity when she was in a playful mood- that early or when earthquakes, floods and muggings did not interrupt their morning routine.
He couldn't point out how they ended up on the floor, the packet of all purpose flour currently raining on them all over as they laughed idiotically.
"Hm....Good morning." she said closing in to kiss him.
"Good morning!" Clark nuzzled her gently.
"We really are a mess now huh?"
"I dunno about me. But you are the most beautiful mess I've come across."
"Cheesy, aren't we?"
She looked at him for a second and then asked thoughtfully- "But, jokes aside- wouldn't you have preferred if I had been able to whip up meals for you? If I wasn't a walking disaster as soon as I stepped into the kitchen threshold?"
"Why?"
She hesitated, looking anywhere but him, and answered, softly: "I don't know. There are times when I really wanted to. But I guess it doesn't come to me that easily." she then laughed dryly, shaking her head, tangling her fingers through his dark locks.
"I'll tell you what I prefer. I love you exactly as you are, walking disaster zone or not." he said, voice low, eyes giving her that same tender look reserved just for her and her alone, and she couldn't help but melt. "And I really don't see the need of you cooking when I signed up for a lifelong pact to do it. Would it have helped if I added that in a really cheesy way to my wedding vows?"
And just like that, the spell was broken. She gently slapped his chest. Hand it to him to make her smile in two seconds flat, however put out she appeared to be.
"Shut up, Kent!"
He laughed again and she couldn't help hers, either. "Hm...I could get used to this!"
"What? A food fight?"
"Oh no, honey." he shook his head "This wasn't a food fight!"
"True. But we still have a chance-" she stopped, sniffing the air. "Do you smell smoke?"
Clark's smitten profile immediately rearranged to the "Superman look" she adored. He bolted up pulling her with him. The pan left without pancakes on the stove was now letting off puffs of smoke. She coughed, and it distinctly sounded like giggles.
He picked up the burning utensil with his bare hand and threw it under the running cold water from the kitchen sink. Lois couldn't hold back her giggles anymore, and burst into another fit. She was feeling vaguely lightheaded and giddy at that point.
"And you tell me you are the one with the 'super-smell' Smallville!" she said once it subsided.
Clark Kent-her husband, the most powerful man on earth, stood in the middle of their kitchen, blushing.
"Yeah well, I was kinda distracted!" he ran a hand over his dark hair.
"I know! I'm irresistible."
"You better keep that in mind, Miss Lane!"
He felt her heartbeat skyrocketing, as he pulled her close, leaned down, trailed his hand under his jersey and up the bare skin of her back. He smiled into the kiss: coffee, pancakes and the mess which was now their kitchen, forgotten