[Don't chuck things at people's heads, Dean, it's rude. And chucking a handcrafted medal your lover has made you is also ROOD! Take the medal, blush, and thank Clark like a normal person, not like a person named Dean 'Fuck my brains out, I'm so gorgeous' Winchester. The sad thing is, Clark just might take Dean to bed after getting a medal chucked at his head. They're both sad idiots pathetically in love with each other it's sick.]

We'll do it again tomorrow, I promise. I won't be able to go a full day without having you while you're actually here. [It was just those long weeks when Dean was away that Clark had to depend on the pictures Dean sent or that salaciously gruff voice over the phone instructing him how to touch himself to get off at night.

The following reunion is always electric, no, explosive. Either Dean walks through the door and Clark has him pinned to a wall or Clark goes to pick him up from the firehouse and the first discreet spot they can find they're fucking in the car.]

Dean... [Clark utters quietly and airily as Dean draws that wicked tongue across each of his fingers and palm, a delightful chill causing him to shudder against his lover. Things suddenly become intense when he finds his fingers suddenly wound around Dean, those heavy lidded green eyes watching him and Clark would be horrified at himself but he trusts Dean, and that's enough to trust himself not to hurt the love of his life. He holds his fingers in place, leans in again to kiss him chastely.]

Even the darkest parts of you.