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Clark tried to pretend he hadn’t noticed how Lois tried to cover up the way she winced whenever she’d call him ‘Clark’. He didn’t want to notice it, but he did.
She’d try getting his attention without using a name — “hey”, or “so I was thinking”, or something of the sort. Clark could tell she wasn’t used to calling anyone besides her husband that name. The husband who’d been missing ever since he’d saved the universe and stopped Darkseid. The husband who she was worried sick about. Superman. Clark Kent.
So, as he helped her unpack groceries in her kitchen, he decided he’s going to bring it up. Right now.
“Say, Lois, about the whole ‘Clark’ thing…” He saw the way her shoulders tensed over the jug of milk she was about to put into the fridge. “I think it’d be easier if you just called me CK, y’know? Since this universe already has a Clark Kent and we don’t need them confusing me with him, since we look so similar and stuff.”
For a moment she doesn’t move. Clark’s heart is in his throat. He just wants to make sure she’s comfortable. He just wants her to trust him. To see that he can be accommodating and considerate and good.
He just wants to prove he's changed for the better.
And then she turns to him, her expression twisted into something between sour and contrite and longing at the same time. “I – um. I’m used to saying it, my husband – my Clark –“ she cuts herself off.
Clark doesn’t know what to do, so he just stands there dumbly, watching. Lois takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders. “I really don’t mind calling you that, I’m used to it, but maybe you have a point,” she says, a slight tremor in her voice.
He nods once and turns to unload the rest of the groceries at super-speed. Lois seems like she needs her space right now. And he doesn’t know if he can bear to watch her break down. Doesn’t know if he can bear failing to step into Superman’s shoes yet again, because surely, the real Clark Kent would know how to comfort someone on the verge of crying.
Once he’s done, standing at the threshold, ready to leave, he tries to come up with something comforting to say, but just ends up standing there awkwardly floundering for a minute.
Lois just sighs and shakes her head, “I’ll see you tomorrow, CK. Goodnight.”
Clark stands frozen for a minute before waving, “Yep, see ya, Lois. Take care. Lemme know if you need anything.”
After she shuts the door, Clark just stares at the wood for a moment. CK.
It’s fine. He hasn’t gone by ‘Clark’ for a while now anyway.
__
That night, like many others, he thinks about Laurie.
He hadn’t seen her in a long time.
He thinks about this one time they’d been at the beach together. They’d both been reading, Clark had had his comics and she’d had a couple magazines and a book she’d been reading. Pride and Prejudice, he remembered fondly.
They’d had to read it for school, and nearly everyone he knew had hated the assignment, but she hadn’t.
Long after they’d moved on to the next book, he’d find her thumbing along the pages, some ear-bookmarked and annotated.
So there they were, reading. Clark with the newest issues that had come out that Wednesday, and Laurie with her well-loved copy of Pride and Prejudice. He’d turn and show her a funny panel and she’d turn and show him a paragraph she really liked.
And he doesn’t exactly remember how, but eventually, she’d playfully disagreed with him about something, which had resulted in him tickling her relentlessly.
She’d squirmed from side to side, giggling until she was breathless. “Clark,” she’d spoken between laughs, “Clark, please,” before she broke into another fit of giggles.
Clark had laughed and given in to her request, and the moment he’d stopped, she’d shoved him away, “Not funny, Clark Kent. Not funny at all,” she’d huffed.
And Clark had merely leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, “If you say so, Laurie Lemmon. If you say so.”
Laurie loved calling him Clark. Kids in school would always mock him and call him names, Superboy was one of them. But not Laurie. Never Laurie.
Laurie had loved Clark, and Clark still loves Laurie.
He misses her.
And he hasn’t gone by Clark for a while now.
__
So now, everyone in this universe either knows him as Superboy Prime or CK.
For instance, his employee tag at the comic book store says CK — his manager had asked him for his full name but he hadn’t pushed when Prime had insisted on using his initials. That, and the only thing that had come to mind had been Condiment King, and well, he couldn’t put that down as his full legal name, now could he?
He’s mostly gotten used to it, really. It doesn’t bother him too much, and when it does, well, he thinks he’s become better at hiding it.
At least, until his birthday rolled around.
His coworkers had bought him a little cupcake with a singular candle, a card, and a free comic book. He was almost overjoyed despite how small the celebration was. He hadn’t gotten to celebrate his birthday properly in some time, so this was nice, even if it was only 10 minutes in the back of the store before opening time.
He asked if anyone wanted to share the cupcake, because, well, that’s the nice thing to do, right? But nobody took him up on his offer.
Once they'd sung a shorter rendition of the happy birthday song, they all slowly started filtering out of the room to prepare for customers, leaving Prime behind in the room for a couple moments.
His boss patted his back and told him he could go home an hour earlier today if he wanted to, since it was his birthday.
Prime just smiled at him, “Thanks. And thanks for the comic, too.”
Once everyone was gone, he set the cupcake and comic aside in favor of looking at the card.
It was then that his smile faltered.
‘CK’, scrawled out by multiple hands, punctuating the end of every sentence, of every wish.
He doesn’t know why he expected anything else, after all, everyone he worked with only knew him as CK, it was only logical they’d sign his card the same way. Of course.
__
When Prime went home later that evening, he wasn’t expecting to do much, really. Maybe read a couple comics, save a few lives if his super-hearing picked up on something; perhaps he'd go flying for a while to look at the stars.
He wasn’t expecting Lois to drop by. And he definitely wasn't expecting her to bring him cake.
She’d brought him a small cake! She even got Martha and Jonathan on FaceTime! Prime beamed at the gesture and thanked her profusely.
And then he opened the box of cake.
Inscribed in neat pink frosting, ‘Happy Birthday, CK!’. Right. Obviously. He isn't Clark to them.
And, well, he had told them to call him CK, hadn’t he?
He’d done this to himself. He’d tarnished the title of Superboy, and now even Clark was becoming a distant memory.
So he plastered on a smile and shared a slice of cake with Lois while talking to Martha and Jonathan about their day.
It’s fine. It’s alright, really. He hasn’t gone by ‘Clark’ for a while now, anyway.
He doesn't think he's going to go by that name ever again.