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“Could I sleep here tonight?”
Lois is instantly dragged from her sleep-induced haze, and concern rocks her body as she looks at the weary face of her boyfriend. The fear of rushing into a domestic living arrangement had led to an agreement of at least one night apart, spent at their respective apartments. The nights spent together are his most restful, even when he reluctantly departs the comfort of her sheets in the middle of the night when duty calls. Clark didn’t object to her request. She made it worth his while each time they reunited, and his body responded even more intensely, if that were possible. So she’s surprised to see him when they’d said goodnight on the phone just thirty minutes before. Three longing kisses after they left the office, and a final peck - “to hold me over until tomorrow” - and they’d parted ways.
“W-yeah, yeah, of course you can sleep here,” she steps back from the door, ushering him in. They walk silently to the dark bedroom, her hand on the small of his back, and she pulls the covers back on his side of the bed. It eases her, to watch the heaviness of whatever is weighing him down leave his body. She snuggles up next to him, laying her hand over his broad chest while his hand covers her.
“Everything okay? You had a bad dream or something?”
He pulls her closer to him, his other hand resting at the small of their back. They’re face-to-face, and she brushes a stray curl from his face.
“No, he breathes, “I just needed to hold you.”
She knows there must be more on his mind. It can’t be easy, carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. Despite all, he tries to be a dutiful partner to her. Lois understood the pressure when this thing between them started, and she’d unmasked his identity. But Lois Lane has never backed down from a challenge. She presses a soft kiss to his jaw.
“Sleep, I’ve got you.”
That’s all he needs.