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Clark keeps his glasses on during sex. Admittedly it's not the strangest thing Buck's ever seen in the bedroom, he has his Buck 1.0 days to thank for that, but it still amuses him. If he's being perfectly honest, he kind of likes it.
The glasses add to the charm.
But Buck just assumed due to his insistence on never ever taking them off that Clark must struggle without them. And that's why when he wakes up in Clark's bed, two months into their relationship, to see those black glasses on the bedside table, his first thought is to bring them to him. There's soft humming coming from the kitchen and the entire apartment is filled with the scent of bacon.
Clark must be making breakfast.
The scent has Buck salivating as he gets up and makes his way through the apartment. There's something about breakfast foods that Clark just seems to nail every single time. They're just about the only thing he can cook properly but he's eager to learn. Buck can't wait to teach him some of Bobby's recipes. No one other than Eddie knows about their relationship yet but Buck knows they will at some point. Even though their connection is still blossoming, Buck can really see a future with Clark.
He yawns, glasses in hand, as he enters the kitchen and- oh.
Who the hell is that?
Standing in the kitchen, humming and flipping pancakes with absurd ease, is someone else. A tall man with perfectly tousled black hair, a sharp jawline, and bright, blue eyes that pierce straight through Buck.
Not Clark.
“Who the hell are you?” Buck shouts, trying to sound intimidating but it comes out sounding a little too scared.
The humming stops abruptly and the stranger jumps, eyes widening. “Buck. It's-”
“How do you know my name?" His heart is in his throat, adrenaline coursing through every inch of his being. The stranger is a lot bigger than him, like a lot bigger, and Buck doubts he could beat him in a 1v1 but he still tries to make his posture as intimidating as possible. "Where's Clark?"
"Buck just calm down okay. I need you to listen to me."
"Where's Clark!" He shouts. It sounds every bit as desperate as he feels. Because Clark is a big guy but Buck's not so sure he'd be able to beat this mysterious man in a fight either. His countenance is gentle, he could throw a punch if he needed to but without his glasses he'd be at a massive disadvantage. "I swear to God, if you hurt him. Where is Clark?”
Buck is already scanning the room for weapons. Spatula? Useless. Mug? Maybe. Frying pan? There's nothing on it but left over grease. It's heavy and hot enough to do some dangerous damage. Buck inches closer to it, getting ready to attack.
He'll grab the frying pan, knock the living daylights out of this guy, call Athena, and then call the cops.
In three...
Two...
“Evan it's me.” The man steps forward, palms up. “I'm Clark.”
Buck shakes his head slowly, eyes narrowing. “No. No, you’re not. I know what Clark looks like and you're not him.”
“I know. But it’s still me.” He smiles softly, showing off his dimples. “I’m just... not wearing my glasses.”
Buck’s hand clenches around the glasses. “What are you talking about? That doesn’t even make sense, glasses don’t change your entire face.”
'Clark' lets out a small laugh. “You’d be surprised. Just hand them to me so I can show you.”
Yeah this guy must think he's a fucking idiot. When Buck reaches out to give him the glasses he'll grab him and do whatever he did to the real Clark. Buck won't let that happen. He slowly angles himself toward the stove.
The guy's face falls a little when he realizes Buck isn't handing over the glasses. “Buck. Come on. It’s me. It’s just- there’s something I haven’t told you. I was going to, I promise. I just- I didn’t think it would happen like this.”
And then, in a blink, the man floats two inches off the floor.
Buck’s jaw drops.
“What the-"
A low whoosh, barely audible, echoes as Clark lifts fully into the air, hovering there, blue eyes locked with Buck’s, hands still raised in surrender.
“It’s me,” he says again, quietly. “I’m Superman.”
Buck stumbles back, nearly bumping into the kitchen counter.
“You’re... no.” He shakes his head violently. “That’s- that's impossible. Clark Kent is not Superman.”
Clark descends gently, landing without a sound. “He is. I am. I’ve always been. I kept it hidden to protect people, my parents, my friends...you.”
Buck looks down at the glasses in his hand in disbelief. He's not sure why but he believes him. There's something in his eyes, a softness in his voice, and Buck just knows. This is Clark.
And Clark is Superman.
“You’re serious,” he whispers. “You’re really...”
“I am.”
He hands him the glasses wordlessly and watches as Clark turns back into himself. The silence that settles over them is thick and heavy, neither of them sure how to break it. What do you say when your boyfriend reveals that he's a superhero, a superhero he's watched you geek out over countless times? Buck doesn't know.
"I- I need to go brush my teeth." He says the exact same moment Clark starts to say something.
"Buck I-"
"Yeah of course," Clark says, an awkward hand scratching at the back of his neck. "Go ahead. I'll just finish up breakfast."
There's too many thoughts going through his head for him to make sense of anything. So he tries to just focus on brushing his teeth, the minty taste in his mouth.
It's not even that he's hurt Clark didn't tell him. They've not been together long; Buck's only had a toothbrush here for a week or two.
He's just embarrassed.
Because Clark has watched him ramble on and on about superman just about a dozen times. He knows all about the 'brief' period about a year ago that the hero had been his hyper-fixation, and even though he's had a handful of others since then, it's still embarrassing.
It's not even embarrassing- it's mortifying.
When he finishes, he briefly considers staying here forever, staying safe in this bathroom, far away from Clark and his knowing eyes. He's going to laugh at him. If the roles were reversed Buck knows he'd laugh too. Oh this is so humiliating.
A soft knock on the door pulls him out of his shame spiral.
"Buck, you okay in there?" Clark's voice rings out from the other side of the door, quiet and a little tense.
"Yeah, I'll be out in a sec," he says back, bracing himself for what awaits him when he leaves. He stares at himself in the mirror and takes a deep breath and then he wonders if Clark could hear that. If he heard that what else has he heard Buck doing before? Nope. He's not going to follow that particular train of thought.
Buck opens the door to see Clark sat on the carpet across from him. He doesn't look any different, just the same old sweet Clark, with his perfectly curled hair and nerdy little glasses.
"Can I show you something?"
They're standing on the rooftop minutes later, wind rushing around them. Clark still hasn't said where they're going- he wants it to be surprise.
“Hold tight,” Clark says, arms wrapping around Buck’s waist. Before Buck can respond, the ground vanishes beneath them.
They're flying.
Buck lets out a startled yell that quickly turns into a laugh, loud and unfiltered as the city falls away beneath their feet. He's been an adrenaline junkie for most of his life and this tops everything he's ever tried. Here, safe in Clark's arms as they soar through the sky, he feels all the shame leave his body.
Clark flies low at first, weaving between skyscrapers, dipping low over tree-lined parks and bridges. Then higher. And higher. Until they're just below the cloud line, the world below them muffled and small. He's so fast it almost feels like they're chasing the sun, crossing countries and continents, watching the sky around them change colours.
"It's beautiful," Buck says, mesmerised. He still doesn't know where they're going but he doesn't care anymore. He could stay here forever, absorbed in the blues and pinks and oranges of the sky around them.
Clark makes a satisfied noise, placing a quick peck on the crown of Buck's head. "I'm glad you like it. We're nearly there."
It's freezing, but Clark’s body is warm against his.
They finally land on a mountain somewhere Buck doesn’t recognise, maybe South East Asia.
"I've wanted to take you to watch the sunset here for a while now," Clark says shyly, hands fidgeting. He wont meet Buck's eye so he supposes they're going to talk about it now.
“It's beautiful,” Buck whispers, wind whipping at his hair. “Thank you.”
Clark looks at him, eyes shining with something he can't quite place. “Are you upset with me?”
Buck blinks. “What?”
“For not telling you.”
"Of course not," Buck shoots back almost immediately. "You had every right not to. We've not been together long. I just wish you'd felt comfortable showing me your true self on your own terms but it's okay."
Clark is silent for a moment, contemplating.
"I did though," he says softly. "I did feel comfortable. That's the only reason I forgot to wear my glasses. I guess on some subconscious level I feel safe enough around you to not have to hide."
Somehow Buck thinks that might be the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to him. Clark looks at him now, really looks at him, both dimples on display. There's something in his eyes that makes Buck feel like the most precious thing in the world.
They haven't said any 'I love you's yet and this is starting to feel more and more like the perfect moment. A gorgeous sunset, so peaceful it feels like they're the only two people on earth. He thinks he might say it, heart in his throat. His eyes are locked on Clark's and when his boyfriend's face starts to inch closer and closer to his, he follows his lead almost on auto-pilot.
"But if you weren't upset with me..." Clark says, stopping centimetres away from his face. His voice is low and teasing and Buck immediately knows what is coming next. "Why did you go hide in the bathroom?"
Buck pulls back, nervous laughter bubbling in his throat. He knows his cheeks must be pink, his birthmark a shade darker than usual. "I did not hide."
"Buck you were in there for twenty minutes."
"Okay so maybe I was hiding. But you would too if you were me."
"Oh yeah? Why's that?" There's a glimmer in his eye like he already knows. He just likes to see him squirm.
"I was embarrassed." It comes out kinda whiny and his boyfriend immediately lets out a giggle. He rolls his eyes. "Yeah yeah laugh all you want."
"Why were you embarrassed?”
"Because... you've listened to me ramble on and on about superman so many times. I didn't want you to think I'm a super-fan."
"What?" He sounds genuinely shocked. "I like that you're a fan though, that you like me as Clark and as Superman. That's kind of how it works, we're both each other's biggest fan. I, for one, am a massive fan of Firefighter Buckley."
"Oh come on." Buck chuckles, hitting his boyfriend’s shoulder. "Being Superman is so much cooler than being a regular old firefighter." It feels a little odd to say. His job is his pride and joy but pulling people from burning buildings is nothing in comparison to literally saving the world time and time again.
"How so?" Clark's looking right at him again with those piercing blue eyes, a slight furrow in his brow.
"You could easily do my job without all the gear, without even breaking a sweat. You're so much cooler than little old me." He goes for a playful tone at the end, trying to pass it off as a joke because Clark is clearly not a fan of this comparison.
"I think that makes what you do cooler if anything. The fact that it's not easy, that you're not indestructible. It's hard for you yet you still give your all to save people who need you. That's a beautiful thing in my opinion."
Maybe he’s right.
The praise has Buck grinning. If he was a dog, his tail would be waging. It's hard not to feel like the most precious thing in the universe when Clark is talking about him like that and looking at him like he is now.
"I- Clark," he can't find the words. "Thank you."
"You don't need to thank me. It's my honour to show you how I see you." Clark shrugs, looking out at the horizon once again, savouring the last moments of their sunset. "Even this morning in the kitchen, when I knew you were scared, watching you ask where I was, it meant a lot to me."
"I couldn't just leave not knowing where you were," he shrugs.
"A lot of people would have. I just appreciate it, y'know?"
He nods, nervous when Clark looks back at him. It's like something from a movie. Tension thick like a knife, his curls falling perfectly over his forehead, eyes darting between Buck's eyes and lips. This time when Clark leans in, Buck connects their lips before he gets the chance to pull away and tease him more.
They kiss, passionate and warm. Buck's not sure how but he ends up with his back pressed flat against the earth below him and Clark above him but he likes it. He thinks he knows where this is going and couldn't be happier.
"I just have one question," Clark says, pulling away and giving Buck a chance to catch his breath.
"Mhmmm," he hums.
"You were gonna hit me with that frying pan weren't you?" He can hardly get the words out through his giggles.
“Obviously!” Buck laughs. “I thought you were a stranger that kidnapped my boyfriend and it was the only weapon within reach.”
Buck has never smiled this much while making out with someone in his life, but he's smiling when Clark's lips find their way back to his, and he's smiling when Clark's hand tugs at his the waistline of his pants, and he's smiling when he breaks the kiss, nudging Clark's shoulder back.
"Now I have a question for you," Buck says. "Can we do it without the glasses this time?"