[ Clark stops at the touch to his knee, and for a moment that-- along with the way that Bruce says his name-- is a sobering gesture. Some innate part of him responds to it instantly; Clark's head turns briefly to catch Bruce's gaze, dark as it is in the already low light, and the surprised expression melts away into some kind of gentle (if not awkward) understanding.
Rationalising is a good thing. It makes the part of Clark's brain responsible for logic fire synapses to tell the stubborn part of him to calm down. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but the word selfishness makes him laugh instead, all shaking shoulders and moving torso... before he mutters an 'ow' and sits as told. ]
"Selfishness". [ He takes in a deep breath, stiffly sinks further into the backrest of the seat, and shuts his eyes briefly. ] Funny thing from a man who spent so much time to fix a stranger up.
[ But here he is, seated again. Down because Bruce insisted. Now it's imperative that Clark keep a debt to him, and when he opens his eyes again he uses them to find the thermos he'd put aside. Reaching is kind of an ordeal, and Clark still asks a brief 'may I?' like Bruce might say no, but at least this time, with both his hands free, it's a touch easier to open.
(Even if he has to exert some effort, still, to twist it. Golly.)
He considers the dried blood on his hands, and then the dried blood on Bruce's, and after he's taken another few gulps of water he pours another serving out. Bruce's hands are dirty with him because he'd worked so hard. Clark feels sort of stupid, offering water that Bruce himself had gotten, but the sentiment is there as he holds the cup out. ]
You should have some too, m-mister. [ Then, he realises: ] Ah, I promise I'm not sick.
GOD
Rationalising is a good thing. It makes the part of Clark's brain responsible for logic fire synapses to tell the stubborn part of him to calm down. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but the word selfishness makes him laugh instead, all shaking shoulders and moving torso... before he mutters an 'ow' and sits as told. ]
"Selfishness". [ He takes in a deep breath, stiffly sinks further into the backrest of the seat, and shuts his eyes briefly. ] Funny thing from a man who spent so much time to fix a stranger up.
[ But here he is, seated again. Down because Bruce insisted. Now it's imperative that Clark keep a debt to him, and when he opens his eyes again he uses them to find the thermos he'd put aside. Reaching is kind of an ordeal, and Clark still asks a brief 'may I?' like Bruce might say no, but at least this time, with both his hands free, it's a touch easier to open.
(Even if he has to exert some effort, still, to twist it. Golly.)
He considers the dried blood on his hands, and then the dried blood on Bruce's, and after he's taken another few gulps of water he pours another serving out. Bruce's hands are dirty with him because he'd worked so hard. Clark feels sort of stupid, offering water that Bruce himself had gotten, but the sentiment is there as he holds the cup out. ]
You should have some too, m-mister. [ Then, he realises: ] Ah, I promise I'm not sick.