Chapter Text
Lois never thought having a boyfriend would be this weird.
Well... to be fair, she never thought she’d have a boyfriend in the first place. Not one that involved exclusivity and deep love, anyway. But then she got one, and for a while, she mistook him for one of the strangest human beings alive. Between his obvious strength, strange flightiness, his endless appetite, and his uncanny ability to be everywhere at once while still managing to be the most wholesome, loyal, impossibly sweet guy on the planet, Clark Kent was something else.
And then she found out the truth.
Clark wasn’t just strange. He was from another planet entirely.
That little fact explained... a lot, actually. Suddenly, all the quirks and impossible moments made sense, or at least, there was an excuse for them. But that didn’t stop his behavior from weirding Lois out in (usually) the most adorable way possible.
Most recently, she’d had a sleepover at his place. Not the icy, creepy Fortress, thankfully, but his city apartment, which, frankly, wasn’t that much warmer. Cold walls, barely any furniture at all, and the emotional warmth of a museum lobby. The only thing that made it feel remotely human was the mantle, which held his pride and joy: a fully constructed LEGO Death Star.
Every time she saw it, Lois just had to laugh. Out of all the responsibilities Superman had to tend to, he still played with toys in his spare time.
Well, everyone needs a relaxing hobby to wind down with.
But other than his LEGOs, the lack of personality within the apartment made sense, she supposed. He hardly spent much time in the apartment, and he tended to get his best rest at the Fortress. That also happened to be where the rest of his LEGOs were stored. Yes, there were more of them. Mostly Star Wars sets, but also the full Justice Gang collection. His most recent addition was the brand-new Superman minifigure, made in his image.
Lois had never seen him so excited as the day he opened the box and found a tiny version of himself in the instruction booklet. Apparently, Guy had demanded a real brand deal between LEGO and the Justice League, but Clark wanted nothing to do with the proceeds. He was just thrilled to be included.
And as Lois watched him hold up that tiny minifigure with all the joy of a little kid opening their first Christmas gift, she couldn’t help thinking that no matter how strange or otherworldly he was, Clark Kent was still the most wonderfully human man she’d ever known.
But, on one particularly cold occasion, she’d stayed overnight at his place after what was supposed to be a movie date night. They had spent hours going over notes and files sprawled across his living room floor, half-working, half-procrastinating. Eventually, they made it to his bed and cuddled up with his laptop balanced between them, streaming some cheesy ‘90s rom-com he’d insisted on. Clark loved those. Lois… tolerated them.
Somewhere between the meet-cute and the big misunderstanding, she’d fallen asleep in his arms, completely exhausted after the week she’d had. Usually, sleeping beside him was the most restful thing in the world. He was warm, steady, and always made sure to hold her tight. But tonight, something was off.
Hours after falling asleep, Lois woke up shivering. The room was so freezing that her nose felt cold, and she wrapped her arms around Clark’s homemade quilt from Ma Kent. She blinked blearily into the dark, reaching across the sheets for her personal space heater... but Clark was gone.
Her first thought was that he’d been called away for a super-emergency. But before panicking, she also realized he could’ve just left to do something as normal as take a trip to the bathroom. She tried to close her eyes and wait, but a faint noise from outside the bedroom made her eyes jolt back open. It didn't sound like someone just wandering about the apartment. In her sleepy delirium, she'd managed to convince herself that someone was up to something no good.
Her heart picked up speed. Of course, the rational part of her brain knew that anyone unfortunate enough to break into Clark Kent’s apartment, of all people, was basically signing their own death warrant. But still, she wasn’t about to just lie there. Lois Lane didn’t do helpless. She scanned the nightstand for anything she could use as a weapon. Her options were her phone, a radio alarm clock, and one of those massive reusable stainless-steel water bottles Clark kept around (her cute, eco-conscious king). Well, that would have to do.
Bottle in hand, she crept down the hallway in her socks, moving slowly, and listening hard. The closer she got, the weirder things became. The room felt at least five degrees hotter, and a dim reddish glow shone from the kitchen. Her pulse skyrocketed.
Please don’t be a supervillain, she begged silently. Please don’t be some glowing monster thing. But as she rounded the corner, she saw it... Two burning red eyes staring straight at her from across the dark kitchen.
Her brain didn’t even have time to process Clark’s voice, low and startled, “Lois—” before she screamed and hurled the bottle straight at the intruder’s head.
The thing caught it midair. The glowing eyes blinked away. And in the harsh light of the overhead fixture that Lois had just turned on, she finally saw what was going on.
“Oh my god,” she huffed, clutching her chest.
Clark sat there, completely human again, perched at the kitchen counter in flannel pajama pants, holding the water bottle she’d just weaponized. His hair was a sleepy mess, and his expression was terribly guilty. Next to him sat a steaming cup of instant noodles and a plate with two half-eaten donuts.
“I’m so sorry,” he said softly, blinking at her. “Did I wake you?”
Lois just stared at him, jaw slack, heart still pounding. “Clark,” she managed, “I swear to god, one of these days you’re gonna give me a heart attack. What the actual fuck are you doing?!”
Clark blinked at her, wide-eyed and sheepish. “I got hungry…” he said, holding up the container of cup noodles in one hand and a donut in the other, as if that explained everything.
Lois sighed, stuck somewhere between amusement and exasperation. “I understand that part, but what exactly were you doing with your eyes? And why does it feel like a sauna in here?” After her body warmed up from the adrenaline rush, it honestly felt like someone had been blasting the heat. She started to fan herself with her hand.
“Oh—uh, sorry,” Clark said, putting down the donut to scratch the back of his neck. “I didn’t wanna wake you with the microwave, and at this time of night it’s easier to just… heat the food with my lasers.” He gestured vaguely toward his eyes.
"Oh... kay?" Lois was still just as confused. Was it really easier? Either way, that didn't exactly seem to line up with the glowing-eyed monster she'd originally seen in the kitchen.
Thankfully, Clark continued. “But, sometimes I only heat them just enough to glow and provide some nice, ambient warm light without actually firing a beam."
Right. Well, that made more sense. As much sense as an alien with laser eyes can really make...
Clark grew adorably excited as he continued to explain it all, "Not only does it do the trick for midnight snacking, but it's absolutely perfect for reading, too. I used to do that as a kid when I’d stay up past my bedtime to read my comics,” he admitted with a sheepish grin.
“Ma and Pa never suspected a thing. Well… maybe they did, but I like to think I saved them a lot of energy on heating the house during those cold Kansas nights.”
Lois stared at him. Her boyfriend, the literal Superman, used to use his heat vision to stay up past his bedtime and now, years later, make cup noodles. She hugged her arms to her chest and laughed. “You are so weird.”
Clark only smiled, completely unbothered, and took another bite of his late-night snack. It wasn’t until she got closer that Lois realized he was dipping the donut into the noodles. The weirdness continued. She just had to know more.
“Can I ask about your weird fusion situation here? And why are we having donuts after midnight?”
Clark swallowed another bite, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “The sweetness of the donuts actually really complements the spiciness of the noodles. Plus, I didn’t get my donut fix this morning. The second I left Donut Land, I had to fly off for an emergency with barely any time to drop the box off at home. They've been sitting here all day... and they’ll undoubtedly be stale by tomorrow, so…” he shrugged. “Better to have 'em now.”
“Stale donuts,” Lois said dryly. “That’s where you draw the line? Kinda rich, coming from someone who constantly consumes inedible objects. You still owe me a new pen, by the way. I didn’t exactly appreciate the chunk you took out of my Gel Sharpie when you were taking notes on that string of robberies last week.”
Clark winced, and he adopted that infamous guilty expression yet again. “Sorry. I get snacky when I’m focusing. Sometimes the closest thing just... gets sacrificed.”
Lois rolled her eyes. “You’re like a teething puppy sometimes. Just ready to gnaw on whatever you can get your paws on.”
She couldn’t help but grin, though. She knew all about his habit of consuming office supplies. For months now, Perry's been convinced that they have a thief among the office. But, nope, it's just Clark and his super-metabolism, able to digest just about any element known to man as he takes chunks out of notebooks, sticky note pads, file folders, pencils, and more... and subsequently either eating the evidence up entirely, or throwing it away in order to avoid arousing suspicion. Funnily enough, a notebook with bites taken out of it would probably just make their coworkers spread rumors of paper-eating varmints rather than make people suspect his super-identity. But, Clark is weird. If eating pencils made him feel more secure, then fine. It was quite shocking how the man was powerful enough to save the world and still manage to be this adorably hopeless.
Clark seemed to sense her frustration as he scrambled to change the subject. He gestured toward the counter, pointing toward the remainder of the donuts, “I saved you a chocolate glazed,” he said hopefully. “I can heat up some noodles for you if you want, too.”
He looked so eager, so sweetly proud of himself, that Lois couldn’t resist. She walked over, put her arms around him, and leaned in, giving him a kiss right by his dimple. She wasn't much of a midnight snacker in terms of waking up to raid the kitchen, but she was feeling a bit peckish that night. Having a little snack with her boyfriend sounded quite nice. She certainly wasn't going back to the cold bedroom without her personal heater, either.
“I'm already up... and the night can't get any weirder. Sure, why not? I could use a snack," She eventually said. "But I’m keeping my donuts and ramen separate... and I'm using the microwave, alright? Keep those laser eyes to yourself.”
Clark chuckled, utterly smitten as he got up to fetch a cup for her. “Yes, ma’am.”
And as she shared a midnight snack with him, Lois realized it wasn’t even the first time they’d had a meal under equally as strange circumstances.
Just a couple of days earlier, she’d been running late for work and was being forced to skip breakfast. She could've popped some bread in the toaster, but she'd run out the previous night after Clark had suddenly gotten a craving for peanut butter sandwiches. Luckily, her super-boyfriend came to the rescue. Typically, she could count on him to quickly replenish any groceries he'd drained, but this time, rather than offering her a loaf of bread, his repayment was fortold in the form of a text that made absolutely no sense.
'Breakfast hot dogs?' it read.
Lois blinked at her phone. She had to read it at least twice before it started to register. Then came another.
'Breakfast hot dogs, hun?'
“Oh my god,” she muttered under her breath. He’s such a weirdo.
She replied with a string of question marks, and within seconds, he texted back with a rambling half-explanation. Something about just finishing an early morning mission, scaring off an interdimensional imp, as he often does, right by one of his favorite hot dog vendors. The guy always came early to set up before the competition arrived, and now, as thanks for Superman’s imp-deflecting services, Clark had been offered free hot dogs.
Before Lois could even process all that, another text popped up.
'They’re fresh. Getting toppings now. Be there in a jiff.'
She just stared at her phone, unable to decide if she was entirely okay with the whole thing. Hot dogs. At eight in the morning.
But then she started thinking about it. Hot dogs were sausage links... right? Something like that. And they were made of beef, plus some kind of byproduct of turkey and pork processing, probably. She shook her head as she tried not to think about the manufacturing process too much. But people eat sausage for breakfast… and bacon was also typically made out of pork or turkey. So technically, hot dogs could be breakfast, right? And mustard, her only acceptable topping, because ketchup was for monsters, was a plant-based seed. That sounded almost healthy. A balanced breakfast, really.
Good enough for her. She's eaten worse.
When Clark finally showed up, he was juggling a bundle of five and a half hot dogs (one half-eaten), a cup of lemonade, and his work suit in a dry cleaning bag, awkwardly slung over his shoulder. He must've zoomed by and picked up on the way.
“Morning, Miss Lane. Got you some nice hot breakfast,” he said, as though bringing fast food before 9 a.m. was a completely reasonable thing to do. He set everything down and continued to munch away on the rest of his breakfast hot dog, completely unbothered.
That’s when it hit her.
Oh god. She was starting to think like Clark. Maybe Cat was right. Maybe couples really did start to blend together after a while. It was terrifying… but also kind of sweet.
Clark handed her a hot dog (mustard only, just the way she liked) and offered the lemonade.
She looked up at him, shaking her head in disbelief as she received her meal. “I think your eating habits are rubbing off on me. I'm starting to believe that hot dogs are an acceptable breakfast food.”
Clark broke out into his earnest, dimpled grin and laughed, “Hey, its not the most outlandish thing in the world. They're made out of the same stuff as bacon, right? Sorta. Sounds like a good balanced breakfast to me."
“God help me,” she said, smiling to herself. The parallel thinking would be a bit terrifying if she hadn't found herself so charmed by it.
----
Food would always be a strange subject for Clark and Lois, it seemed. It even had the power to push Lois into situations she never thought she might find herself. The truth is, she had never been the type to jump into casual hangouts with coworkers. She liked her people in carefully measured doses, preferably with a buffer of caffeine or at least ten feet of personal space. Clark, on the other hand, was a certified social butterfly in a flannel shirt, always ready to accept an invitation... especially the questionable ones.
Which was exactly how the two of them ended up at a sushi restaurant surrounded by way too many people for her liking. Steve, Cat, Jimmy, and… Eve.
Eve, as always, looked like she'd been personally invited to the Met Gala. She'd also excitedly hollered "Jimmy’s friends are my friends!" about a thousand times on the way over. Lois didn’t mind her truthfully. She was sweet, bubbly, and had helped save the world, so that earned her permanent entry into the 'acceptable humans' category. Lois just wished Jimmy would be a little nicer to her. Or at least stop pretending he didn’t hear her when she asked him a question.
The group gathered around a long table near the back. They ordered a couple of appetizers to start, gyoza and sashimi for the table. Lois placed her menu aside and glanced at Clark, who leaned in to murmur, "I, uh… haven’t really eaten much Japanese food before."
She blinked. "Seriously? You? But you eat everything. Whatever happened to your little city food-tour?"
Clark shrugged sheepishly. "Haven't reached Japan just yet, I guess."
Lois could understand that, and she was excited on his behalf for him to be trying a new food. But, dinner began exactly the way Lois should've expected... with Clark being a full haphazard of a man.
He could absolutely not figure out those chopsticks, and it ended up being a little more drastic than she ever would've expected.
Lois tried to show him, gently adjusting his fingers while the rest of the table chatted about work drama and weekend plans. But the chopsticks kept slipping out of his hands. The gyoza was cooling rapidly, and Clark’s frustration was growing.
Finally, he managed to grip them somewhat correctly. But the amount of force he was applying out of sheer desperation was just a tad strong.
"Okay, okay, I think I’ve got it this—" SNAP.
The chopsticks broke clean in half between his fingers, and the sound echoed loud enough that three nearby tables turned to stare.
Clark froze with pieces of wooden chopsticks in his hands. "Uh… sorry, everyone!" he called out with an awkward laugh.
Lois covered her face with one hand.
Clark leaned down to gather the broken pieces, but the moment he pushed his chair back, disaster struck again. He bumped straight into a waitress walking behind him.
She wobbled dangerously. Clark shot up and caught her arm just in time.
"Gosh darnit!" he blurted. "I’m so sorry, ma’am. Goodness, I don’t know what’s gotten into me today." His shoulders hunched, embarrassed.
Thankfully, the waitress hadn’t been carrying anything and just brushed it off with a kind smile.
Lois hurried to guide him back into his seat before his mass could cause any property damage. "Sit," she muttered. "Please. Before you knock out the entire staff."
Clark sank down obediently with flushed cheeks.
Sometimes Lois wondered how he could possibly be this clumsy. Part of her suspected it had to be an act, but no, he’d explained it to her once before. Superman was confident on the outside, sure. In the suit, he wanted to be noticed, to be strong, to help people with everything he had. But when he was Clark Kent, the regular ol’ reporter, he got so caught up in not wanting to be noticed that he sometimes forgot his own strength entirely.
It was hard to fit in when you were a six‑foot‑five secret alien with anxiety. Poor Clark got so nervous trying to seem normal that he turned himself into a walking disaster. For that reason, Lois was always quick to forgive his haphazardness.
She offered him a reassuring smile and flagged down a waitress for another pair of chopsticks.
A great idea… until it happened again.
Clark barely had them in hand before—snap. Another clean break.
Steve didn’t miss a beat.
“Wow, Kent,” he scoffed loudly, stabbing both of his chopsticks straight down into a gyoza like it was perfectly acceptable. “Is this your first time in a restaurant that isn’t your redneck backhouse moonshiner diner back home? Jesus. Have some culture, much?”
Lois’ jaw clenched. She was about two seconds from ripping into him, because who the hell used chopsticks like that, but Clark beat her to it.
He leveled Steve with a flat, no‑BS stare. “Steve, you and I were at a Mongolian restaurant last week,” he said calmly. “And I paid when you ‘forgot’ your wallet. Again. So maybe you should be a little nicer to me, considering the odds you’re gonna ‘forget’ it today too.”
The table erupted into various oohs and a few chuckles, causing Steve to go bright red and promptly shut up. It was always way too satisfying when he got his ass handed to him.
Once the excitement died down, the waitress returned. This time, wisely bringing Clark a pair of chopsticks with one of those little kid training-holders clipped to the back.
Clark accepted them with the reverence of a man handed a second chance at life, and with his new weapon of choice finally under control, it didn’t take long before the appetizers disappeared. Clark tore through them with enthusiasm, eyes sparkling as realization set in.
He absolutely loved Japanese food, and he needed much more of it.
As he flipped through the menu, Lois watched the gears turning, already bracing herself for whatever chaos was about to follow.
Clark wanted to try nearly every sushi roll listed on there. Lois, on the other hand, preferred sticking to her usuals. Just two were enough for her, a shrimp tempura and a spicy tuna roll. She doubted she’d finish everything anyway, not after she'd eaten what was left of the appetizers that Clark had yet to inhale.
But when it was time to decide on their entrée orders, came yet another strange, uncanny moment they’d been having more and more often lately. Parallel thinking.
Lois spotted the platter on the bottom right corner of the menu. A gorgeous board loaded with shrimp tempura, spicy tuna, salmon, California, rainbow, and more, basically everything Clark had been eyeing, plus the two that Lois wanted for a reasonable bulk price. It was enough food to satisfy a Kryptonian appetite without breaking the bank.
She opened her mouth to suggest it, and Clark looked up at the same time, tapping the exact same picture with one finger.
“You wanna share The Harmony Platter with me?” he asked, smiling.
She laughed. “Great minds think alike.” She leaned in, brushing her shoulder against his.
No one else seemed to care about their joint decision except for Eve, surprisingly.
“Really, that whole plate just for you two? But that’s enough for a small party!”
Lois shrugged, and Clark nodded along, clearly excited about their meal choice.
Cat chimed in next, swirling her Sake. “Clark’s a big eater. You should see him at the office. Nothing goes to waste with him around. In fact, I predict he’s gonna want to take home everyone’s leftovers.”
Eve giggled, genuinely impressed, as always, which immediately made both Steve and Jimmy puff their chests out like insecure roosters.
“It’s just their thing," Jimmy muttered. "Like… Clark’s a moose or something that eats a lot, and Lois is a guinea pig that... doesn't… I guess.”
And then Steve, of course, had to take it further with his voice too loud and his laugh too manic. “Yeah! Lois is a hamster and Clark is a big dumb stupid cow who eats everything!”
Clark looked… unamused. And a little wounded.
Eve gasped, positively delighted by the adorable couple. “Oh my gosh, that is the cutest thing ever!” She grabbed her boy-toy's arm with both hands. “Jimmy! We should share a plate and have animal nicknames too!”
Jimmy looked like he’d rather be hit by a bus.
But Eve was already kissing him all over his face, peppering spots rapidly like she was trying to reach each and every one of his freckles. Lois watched him squirm, but she also saw the little hidden smile on his face that said he secretly loved the attention.
Eve pulled back dramatically with hearts in her eyes. “You’re like my sexy, sly little fox, aren’t you? You’re hot and you sneak around and hide from me…” She cupped his cheeks. “Now what am I? Give me one.”
Jimmy looked her up and down with a scowl that was 90% panic and 10% annoyance.
Lois saw it coming. He was about to say something awful. So she shot him the most threatening warning glare she had in her arsenal.
Jimmy swallowed hard and delivered an answer that had everyone a little confused.
“Uh… a giraffe?” he blurted.
Eve's face fell slightly as she cocked her head to the side. “A... giraffe?”
Jimmy nodded stiffly as he scrambled to come up with an explanation. “Because you’re… tall. And you have those long… long legs… and uh… your neck—” Uh oh. Where was he going with that?
“What about her eyes?” Cat cut in, adding her own detail before he could make it worse. “You’ve got beautiful eyes, Eve. Doesn’t she, Jimmy?”
Jimmy nodded quickly, grateful for the save. “Yeah... yeah, beautiful eyes. And giraffes have… really long eyelashes. And I heard the girl ones are strong… and fierce. Or something.” He shrugged. “So… yeah. You can be a pretty giraffe. A pretty giraffe who can split this couple’s plate of nigiri with me.”
Crisis averted. Eve melted instantly and smothered him in more kisses. Thank god... Lois didn't know what she'd do if Eve broke out into tears at that table.
With that done and over with, everyone was finally ready to place their orders. The waitress paused when Lois and Clark requested the Harmony Plate for just the two of them, but she wrote it down without questioning them.
When the food finally arrived, everyone else got dishes of perfectly normal, human proportions. A few rolls here, onigiri there. Reasonable meals for reasonable people.
And then came their order.
The Harmony Platter was… enormous. It was a huge plate with sushi, rolls layered in overlapping rows, looking more like a celebratory feast rather than a dinner for two. Lois was a little intimidated and began to wonder just what they'd gotten themselves into. But Clark, meanwhile, appeared spiritually moved.
The waitress had barely set the platter down before Clark had a piece in his mouth. He made a tiny, happy sound that was the same one Lois swore she’d only ever heard when he discovered a new food he instantly loved.
After Clark set out to conquer that platter, Lois let herself relax as she ate her tiny portion by comparison and socialized. It was only a little while longer into the evening before Lois had to admit to herself that, as annoying as these group coworker outings could be, it was… nice having all of them together. It was only a shame Ron couldn’t make it. But knowing Clark, he’d already be invited to the next after-work hangout before he reached his next roll.
For a while, everything was calm... Until Steve, who’d clearly had too much sake, decided to stir up trouble.
“Hey, Clark,” he pointed at the untouched mound of wasabi on the edge of the platter. “You should totally try that stuff.” He said with a wicked grin. “You don’t know what that is, right? It’s so good. A real subtle topping. You should put a lot on your next bite. It complements the salmon or whatever.”
Clark actually paused to consider it.
Lois watched him grab a nice, generous glob of wasabi with his chopsticks. She thought briefly about stopping him, but decided against it for two reasons. One, wasabi wasn’t strong enough to give a Kryptonian any hell. Two, Clark loved spicy food. The more intense the better.
So she watched as he popped the entire bite, wasabi mountain and all, straight into his mouth. She felt just a bit bad for not warning her boyfriend ahead of time that he was about to be sniped, but the chances were that it would probably turn out to be a pleasant surprise rather than anything else.
But her calm demeanor didn’t stop anyone else from panicking. Cat gasped once she realized what was happening, and for fear that Steve had successfully killed their poor Clark, she hurriedly flagged down a waitress and asked for a glass of milk to tend to the aftermath. Jimmy and Eve had similar reactions as Eve begged for Clark to spit it out before he regretted it, while Jimmy leaned over to threaten Steve for tricking their good friend into his own demise.
But there wasn't any pain or any crying, or anything to regret, really. Clark just chewed thoughtfully, and everyone held their breath until he swallowed.
And then, bright as sunlight, he declared for all to hear, “Cheese and crackers, that’s good stuff!”
Lois snorted, unable to hold back a laugh. Oh, Clark, and his adorable vocabulary. She was just glad that he was enjoying himself.
“Anyone else want theirs?” he asked cheerfully, already targeting everyone else's portions.
Steve blinked. “Wait… what?" His confusion was palpable. "But, don’t you feel like your mouth is burning? Or like your head is gonna explode through your sinuses?”
Clark paused, startled, as though he realized that his lack of a reaction might've outed himself. “Is it supposed to feel like that?” He turned to Lois for help.
Lois shrugged casually. She didn't want to freak him out, but still wanted to help him look a bit more normal. “It depends on the person. For me, it makes my nose run. But, it's not so bad.”
Clark nodded slowly, adjusting his posture as he sniffled just for show. “O-oh, yeah. Well, now that you mention it… my sinuses do feel like they’ve been cleared. That wasabi is impressive stuff.”
Steve was turning redder than the tuna nigiri, absolutely steaming at the fact that his stupid little ploy hadn't worked. “Wait—Hey! I’ll bet it’s not even real wasabi, then! It’s probably just horseradish dyed green! Stupid, dumb fake wasabi, let me try!”
Before Lois could warn him not to copy a Kryptonian, Steve scooped up an equally massive glob and shoved it in his mouth.
It took approximately three seconds for regret to hit.
His eyes watered. His face contorted. He made a strangled noise that had her fearing that he'd caused his own demise right there at that table.
Despite what an asshole Steve could be, Clark did his best to help out. He handed over the untouched glass of milk, looking very apologetic while patting Steve’s back with a little too much force.
After a couple of minutes of suffering, Steve finally recovered. And only after they'd confirmed he wouldn't drop dead, Lois had to admit… it was incredibly satisfying. What a complete dumbass. What was his deal, anyway? Why was he so insistent on bugging Clark so much? Lois didn't have the energy to psychoanalyze him at the moment.
By the time the spectacle with the wasabi finally died down, Clark had returned his full attention to the Harmony Platter. It didn’t take him long to finish what remained of it, nor did it take him long after that to quietly collect any leftovers that were still up for grabs around the table. Nothing escaped him. Lois watched the whole thing with mostly admiration. And maybe… just a teensy bit of lust.
The way that flannel was fitting him was frankly ridiculous. The sleeves were rolled up just enough to show off his forearms, and it stretched tight against his biceps when he leaned forward. It was buttoned up and tucked neatly into his blue jeans, cinched at the waist in a way that made his entire shape abundantly clear.
Lois caught herself staring more than once at his chest, his arms, even the soft curve of his 'tummy' when he shifted in his seat. She had to look away before someone noticed. Part of her wondered if he chose that shirt on purpose, maybe after realizing just how much she loved that one button-down he wore to work that fit him the exact same way.
Then again… the flannel looked old and well-loved. Maybe he really had just outgrown it a bit.
Either way, she was doomed.
Eventually, Clark’s endless appetite had successfully conquered dinner. The platter was officially empty, along with everything else on the table. Lois had long since reached her limit and leaned back in her chair, pleasantly full. Clark, meanwhile, was using a spoon to carefully scrape the inside of a small container of wasabi like it was pistachio ice cream.
When a waitress finally approached the table to ask how they’d like to split the bill, Clark perked up immediately.
“I can get you two, Cat and Steve,” he offered quickly, already reaching for his wallet. “And Lois, of course.”
Such a gentleman, but Lois probably wouldn't let him do it. It was only fair that if they were treating their friends for the night, she could pay for her half of the platter plus Cat... if Clark was so damn insistent on paying for his 'friend' Steve for some reason. That was a dynamic she could never come to understand.
But, before anyone could respond, another waitress appeared beside the first, and the two exchanged quiet words while glancing pointedly at the empty platter in front of Clark and Lois. Lois frowned, confused, suddenly wondering if they’d done something wrong.
After a moment, the second waitress cleared her throat and gestured toward the two of them. “Excuse me,” she said politely. “We were watching during your meal, and I just have to ask… did you two finish the Harmony Platter entirely on your own?”
Clark hesitated. He looked a little sheepish now, adjusting his glasses nervously. But he nodded anyway, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “Yes, ma’am. It was really good.” He glanced at Lois, dimples appearing as his smile widened. “It was mostly me and my big appetite, though. But it was the perfect amount for us to share. We’ll probably be back to order it again sometime. Next date night, maybe.”
Lois smiled at him despite herself. But privately, she was already thinking she didn’t love the idea of returning to a restaurant that monitored how much its customers ate.
That concern evaporated almost immediately.
The two waitresses exchanged excited looks before one of them hurried off. Moments later, they returned with a third woman, clearly a manager, who clapped her hands together with delight.
“Congratulations!” She beamed. “You’ve officially completed our Harmony Plate Challenge.”
Lois blinked, completely stunned.
Clark stared. “Wait—what?”
“We run a sushi challenge,” the manager explained. “If a pair finishes the Harmony Platter in under an hour, the entire platter is free. You also get commemorative t-shirts and your photo on our Wall of Fame.”
Lois’s brain snagged on one phrase in particular. Free food. Her face lit up instantly. Clark’s did too, the excitement adorably blooming across his features.
Their friends erupted into congratulations. Cat laughed openly, declaring it poetic justice that Clark’s appetite had finally paid off. Steve, for once, kept his mouth shut, likely still clinging to the hope that Clark might cover his bill and his ill-advised sake binge.
Normally, being put on display like that would’ve made Lois want to crawl under the table. But the way Clark was so absolutely delighted changed her mind.
So she said yes.
They pulled on the cheesy t-shirts, stood shoulder to shoulder, and smiled as the photo was taken, immortalized forever as the couple who conquered way too many pieces of sushi together… even though it was mostly Clark. But she helped.
And as strange as that dinner had turned out to be, Lois had a feeling it was only the beginning.