His gaze cuts back to Clark, undiluted in its lack of filter this early.

"It's not mistletoe. It's a spontaneously-appearing thing. And besides, it's not your self control I'd be worried about if it was." That last part is grumbled, but he doesn't even consider trying to muffle it. It is what it is.

Bruce slipped into his apartment in the dead of night and crawled into bed with him. Subtle, it was not.