Clark reached up and ran his thumb along the side of Bruce's smile. He stroked against the cheek, as if willing the muscles to relax. He couldn't say 'don't', even the single word was too much. But he could try to tell Bruce in the gentlest way possible that he didn't have to smile if he didn't feel it. He was too tired for masks right now.

"I'll go in the sun."

Then his hands were moving across Bruce's skin, just... needing to touch. Needing to remind himself. Needing to make it real. The water weighed down his hair, his beard, flowed down along the crevices and for now, the scars. He was tired and he was empty and he was covered in marks but he still loved. He still had that.

"Will you kiss me?"

Soft. Tenuous. High in his range, the bottom portions choked off from, well, everything.