A panfandom roleplay

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Breakfast in bed for his best girl :')
lois ⋙ i wanna bathe you in the light
clarklike wrote in paradisa

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[Even if he promised Lois nine hours, he was a bit generous; no rush, and all. At the door he listens in for her heartbeat to see whether she's up or not, and he's pleased to find she isn't. Enough time for him to slip in and set up, then.

He lets himself in, quiet as can be, and sets down the breakfast tray on her desk. There's pancakes and mounds of fresh fruit and whipped cream, and juice and coffee and all the fixings, just how she likes it.

He opens the blinds and lets the sunshine in, then moves to her bedside and kneels down to be eye-level with her sleeping face.

Gently, he touches a hand to her shoulder. Clark feels a twinge of longing at the fact that he can't just climb into bed with her with so much time between them, but the happiness he feels at just having her around surpasses that.]


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[She's had this dream before. The pleasant drifting scents of the food mingle with the imagery floating through her head, and she doesn't register when the touch against her shoulder is in reality rather than the dream world that's got that little smile curving up her face. Her hand reaches out and searches across the empty half of the bed beside her in response to his voice.]

Mmm. [The hum escapes her lips, her eyes still closed, but the smile widens as she mumbles sleepily:] Clark?

[He lets his hand slide down her arm to meet her hand, and he can't hold back a big smile.]

What kind of fruit do you want with your pancakes?

[Definitely a dream. Her fingers loosely curve around his, thumb absently stroking against the back of his hand. It takes a second to register that there was an actual question asked there.]


[He laughs, quietly.]

I made pancakes. What do you want on them?

[Cracks start to break through the fog of waking, and she hears him with much more clarity this time, the feeling of his hand in hers changing into some very real and grounded and--

Oh God.

One eye peers open first, tentatively, and lands on his softly smiling face, where she can't help but stare for a moment, blinking until it comes into better focus. Then her eyes travel down to their hands, and she slides hers away, clearing her throat slightly, as she slides up to something of a sitting position and brushes her somewhat mussed hair back.]

... Talk about service. [There's humor there, but a sort of nervous edge too, as her eyes skitter between him and the spread already laid out. She can't help if her heart sort of leaps to her throat at all the effort (effort for her even), but that moment of vulnerability when she woke up first makes her worry. What if she'd been talking in her sleep? Or drooling?] Surprise me.

[He sits back on his heels, and suddenly he feels a bit self-conscious, when she pulls back. Maybe he should have knocked, rather than inviting himself in.]

Can do.

[He gets up and moves to the desk to fix her some pancakes.]

Sleep well?

[When he turns around, her fingers rake more quickly through her hair, trying to yank out the tangles quickly while he's not watching.]

I'd say 'like the dead' but I don't want the castle getting any ideas.


[He picks up the finished plate and carries it back to her, unfolded breakfast tray in other hand. He sets it down on the bed next to her and places the plate on it, then goes to grab utensils and her coffee and juice.]

Good to hear, though.

[She smile as she looks over the tray, shaking her head slightly.]

Are you trying to spoil me or butter me up?

[he pulls up the desk chair and smiles.]

Little bit of both.

[Her eyes sparkle a bit at that, so she averts them to pick up a glass and grab a fork.]

What's the occasion? [She tries to keep her tone neutral. Tries.]

[he thinks on that for a second, because there are a million reasons, but he smiles]

Just for being Lois Lane.

If this is to make me forget about how you didn't bother to tell me I was here before...

[She stabs her pancake stack.]

It's probably working.

[That and so much more. He nods, still smiling, although sheepishly.]

I thought it might. And I wanted to apologize for that. It wasn't very fair of me.

There was a lot to tell. But it seems like that part would have been important.

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