That laughter was another one of those things that Clark was grateful for. Sharp, bright... honest. Honest amusement. It made something in his chest practically buzz every time he heard it and that delight transferred into the kiss.

He was still too twitchy by half, some portion of him having to fight off the idea that all of this would disappear when he woke up. But he could pull up the taste of Bruce's blood in his mouth, the feel of him under his hands. The scent of pie wafting out of the closet, another ridiculous move that made everything real for being so ridiculous that he could never imagine it.

He was still not well, but he was happy. And thankful. So very very thankful.