Oh yes! A Best Overall Kerth-winner! This is Erin Klingler's
What It Means to Love You. 
Okay, here's a new one:
Superman," she whispered. Lois stared into his eyes, unable to look away. Her mind whirled and her words came out in an incoherent jumble. "Your eyes." They were Superman's eyes. "Your voice." Clark's voice. "How?" They were in Clark's bedroom, and she had immediately assumed she was sleeping with Clark, but those steely muscles had to belong to Superman. She reached out to touch his hair. His dark, thick, silky, sleep-mussed hair. Superman could get bed head? "Your hair. It moves. I thought it was stuck to your head." He flew at speeds faster than a speeding bullet without one hair falling out of place. "Bed head. How can you get bed head?" She shook her head wildly. Then she abruptly stopped, surrendering to the pain coursing through her skull, stopping her thought process. "But Clark. Clark can get bed head."
She blinked, trying to merge the images of two separate men into one. They eyes. The hair. The body. The voice. Everything began to fall into place. Clark and Superman. Superman and
Clark. Each man was someone she knew so well, but didn't know at all. Or did she know them both all too well? "Oh my god," she breathed. "You're Clark. And Superman." And she needed to get out of there. She was humiliated, frightened, betrayed, yet intrigued. With him so close, she had no time to digest everything that had happened in the last few seconds.
"Lois . . ." Clark stared at her blankly, frozen in place. After staring at her speechless for what seemed like an eternity, he found his voice. "Yes," he said simply in a voice no louder than a whisper. "I am Clark. And Superman."
Wendy
