Bruce eats about a third of his lemon bar, liking the lack of traditional sweetness. Coffee's better, though. He lets his eyes slip shut as Clark rubs his neck, enjoyment clear.

"Mm, well enough. Refitted all the windows, a couple were letting in weather which wasn't helping." He tilts his head back to encourage Clark's hand into a particular sore spot and makes a low noise. This doesn't suck at all.