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In Clark’s humble opinion, Lois Lane is always a sight to behold.
She has been from the moment he first saw her, really, but as of late, Clark can’t quite look at her without feeling like he’s looking directly at the sun. And he’d know, really, because Superman has always been very familiar with the yellow sun and how it makes him feel. Nowadays, his heart feels like it’s grown ten sizes too big for the space between his ribs and his lungs can’t quite fill properly—a delicious irony, for someone able to hold his breath for over an hour.
It’s not even the way Lois dresses—which is always nice of course, because she is dedicated to all things in her life, even her looks. She has never been one to leave her outfits to last minute thoughts, and Lois Lane makes damn sure she dresses in a way that makes her feel both comfortable and confident. Clark especially loves her Doc Martens covered feet, loves that it makes her look just the tiniest bit taller, yet still so small next to his frame. Her outfits suit her, her personality, her body.
But it’s deeper than any outfits or smudge of makeup, really.
Clark has always been very aware of his soft side. He’s got a mushy heart like his Pa, Ma would say with a shake of her head and a spike of affection piercing through her tone. He’s not afraid to admit it, nor is he bothering to look away when Lois catches him looking at her, rolling her eyes at him affectionately. He’s the kind of man who would lay his body down for her to walk on if the floor was in any way uncomfortable, and they both know it. So really, it’s not that surprising for him to find himself choking up with how much he feels for her on a random Tuesday.
Currently, Lois is asleep on the couch, snuggled under an old blanket of his that he brought back from his parent’s last time he was visiting. It doesn’t smell like the old couch in his parent’s living room anymore, completely drowned out in the soft smell of Lois’ perfume and the oil from her hair. Clark has taken to applying it to her curls at night right before bed, loving the way the smell seeps into her pillow and burrows itself in his nose at every hour of the day.
From the other side of her tiny living-room, Clark looks at her.
Her face is soft and relaxed, deep exhales leaving her parted lips. There’s movement behind her eyelids—he wonders if she’s chasing a story in her dreams too. Lois Lane’s brain never seems to stop working full time, even when she’s exhausted. There’s no makeup on her face, because she never does bother with it when it’s just the two of them during lazy days. Lois is on her side facing him, knees brought up to her chest as much as she can with the swell of her pregnant belly in the way.
It’s six months into her pregnancy, and Clark still has to pinch himself when he thinks about the current state of his life. The woman of his dreams not only loves him back, but puts up with him and Superman, and is now carrying their child. The rapid thrum of their heartbeat mirroring Lois’ slower one is a melody to Clark’s hypersensitive ears, day and night and through everything from hazy evenings to anxious ones. From the moment he’s heard the first flutters of this life they have created together, Clark had been hit with how different his life would look from there on.
He’s stepped back from being Superman all the time, first and foremost. He has learned to delegate to the Justice gang more, and he spends more time with Lois and the Daily Planet gang. Sure, Superman will always be a part of him and there are threats in Metropolis he needs to handle himself, but learning to let go of the tiniest of emergencies has been a progress for him. His priorities have changed, too. Before, it was him and Lois against the world—now, they have someone else to worry about.
Their child is the first human-kryptonian hybrid they know of, as Mr Terrific would bluntly put it, and the pregnancy has not been easy for Lois. If Clark focuses his laser vision on the swell of her belly, he can see the little lump that is their child sleeping soundly, their fists clenched around tiny thumbs. But he can also see the outline of the bruises littering the underside of Lois’ belly, witnesses of a child that’s slowly growing stronger than Lois’ human composition will ever be.
The marks are lighter now, and Lois promises it doesn’t hurt, the kicks powerful but somehow more of a dull ache than real pain, but Clark feels guilt nagging at him all the same. They’ve recently found that the sound of his voice calms the baby down from their acrobatics, and the bruises have lestened significantly in the last couple of weeks. It’s a trial and error kind of time, but Clark hates feeling so useless.
Ever and always, he worries.
He worries about Lois and the longing looks she tries to hide, worry draped all over her features. He knows she thinks about the ramifications of having a metahuman child, and all the things they will need to protect them from. He senses that she stresses out about her family and the idea of having to tell them—a subject they don’t bring up much, because Lois is firm in her need to keep this child a secret from the general at all costs. Sometimes, her motherly instinct surprises even Clark.
Lois has told him before that she was not the maternal type, and the question of children was not something they’d breached seriously until the pregnancy test that sat on the bathroom counter between their awestruck and slightly panicked gazes.
But since that day, Clark has watched Lois grow from sceptical in her ability to care for a child to full mama-bear, writing down lists after lists of things they need to babyproof and furniture they need to get. He catches her absentmindedly talking to herself and their child when she writes, rubbing her belly under the shower spray and smiling to herself when they walk past baby furniture in the store. Clark is more than happy to let her take the lead, looking in awe at the woman who’s changed his life in every way imaginable.
Clark Kent was aware that Lois Lane would turn his life upside down the moment he first saw her, fierce and grumpy in that open space on his first day at the Planet. But even back then, he had no idea how much happiness she would bring him, and how grateful he would be every day for the universe to have put her on his path. Hell, he’d even be ready to thank his birth parents for their sick idea if it meant doing things the exact same way and walking into that open space three years ago.
He once told his Da in confidence, hushered in the depth of the night on the bench near the porch that he wanted no part of the world if Lois was not in it. It felt dramatic then, maybe a little silly in his father’s eyes, but it was true. Clark Kent was in love with humankind, devoted his life to it without a glance back, but Lois Lane was the one who taught him what it meant to be alive.
Tearing himself away from dark thoughts, Clark looks back at Lois when she stirs, groaning lightly in her sleep. He knows the weight of her belly doesn’t allow her to sleep comfortably on her back anymore, but Clark is always ready to ease the knots in body at any given time with lenghty massages. The other day, he stood behind her in the shower and held the weight of her belly for her—and Clark isn’t driven by his ego, but the groans of relief she let out was enough to make him feel like the most powerful man on Earth.
Superman be damned. Clark Kent is Lois Lane’s true superhero.
“Clark?” Lois mumbles, her eyes opening in fractions.
It takes her a few seconds to find him, her face softening at the sight of him hunched over on the chair opposite her.
“Are you watching me sleep? That’s creepy.”
“I’m not watching you sleep. I was just… thinking.”
Lois reaches out to rub her belly, a lazy smile on her face. “Hmm. Sure. Analysing our heartbeats, more so.”
“Maybe.”
It’s a familiar yet foreign sight, to see Lois wrapped up in her own little world. Clark has seen her hunched over scoops and stories, he has seen her put her life in danger more than once and he’s seen her soft and moisturized in their bed, laughing at his terrible jokes until her cheeks hurt.
He loves every version of her. But there and then, he thinks and not for the first time, that he’s never been more in love with her.