Title: Handcuffs and Tight Ends
Author: Carrie Rene
Rating: PG
Summary: Set in the final stretch of Season 2, nestled between Whine, Whine, Whine and And the Answer Is. When a college friend reaches out to Lois for help, old loyalties resurface—and new tensions emerge. Could this derail her growing connection with Clark, or deepen it in unexpected ways?
Note: This story hasn’t been beta-read yet. I’ll be posting updates every other day for now.
Part 1
Lois was floating. Last night, Clark had finally let his guard down—and so had she. No declarations of love, not yet, but the way they kissed said everything words couldn’t. They’d curled up on his couch, tangled in each other, until the knock at the door announced his parents and dinner.
She’d stayed late, past eleven, reluctant to leave the warmth of his apartment and the quiet certainty blooming between them. Now, stepping into the bullpen, she moved slowly. She was sleep-deprived but glowing. As she stepped into the bullpen, her eyes swept the room—no Clark.
Maybe he’d taken his parents to the airport. After all, he wasn’t quitting the Planet anymore, not after last night. Everything had shifted the moment she showed up.
A few minutes later, just as she settled at her desk, a voice called from behind.
“Lois?”
She turned—and froze.
Jonah Scott. A blast from her college days. Former Metropolis University football star. Briefly hers, once.
“Jonah? What are you doing here?” Lois stood slowly, her voice steady but cool. Her eyes flicked across the bullpen, searching for Clark.
Before Jonah could answer, Jimmy bounded over, practically vibrating. “Wait—Lois, you know Coach Scott? No way!”
Jonah gave a shy smile. “Hey. Great to meet a fan.” Then, turning back to Lois, his tone shifted. “I need your help. Can we talk somewhere… private?”
Lois hesitated. The last time Jonah had said those words, it ended with her tutoring schedule in flames and a bruised heart she never admitted to anyone. She’d been nineteen, brilliant, and stupidly hopeful. He’d been charming, struggling in calculus, and very good at pretending he cared.
He stood there like the past didn’t still sting. Like it hadn’t meant anything to him.
“I don’t cover sports, Jonah,” Lois said flatly, arms crossing. “That’s Enrique’s beat.”
“It’s not exactly about football,” he said, voice low. “Please. I know you probably still hate me for… how I handled things.”
“Hate’s a strong word,” she replied, cool but not cold. “Let’s just say I learned my lesson.”
Jimmy, still hovering like a kid at story time, leaned in. “Wait—what did he do?”
“Jimmy, not now,” Lois said sharply, turning back to her desk. Her tone wasn’t cruel, but it left no room for curiosity.
Jonah stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Lois, if you won’t help me… I’ll have to find someone else. Another reporter I can trust to expose what’s happening in the Athletic Department at Metropolis University.”
She stilled. That word—trust—landed harder than he probably meant it to.
He hadn’t trusted her back then. Not with the truth, not with his pride. And now he was asking for her help like none of that mattered.
“Clark won’t like it,” Jimmy muttered, retreating to his desk with one last curious glance.
Lois barely registered the comment. The elevator dinged, and when she looked up, there he was—Clark, stepping out like the morning light belonged to him.
Their eyes met instantly. And just like that, they were both smiling.
Clark stepped out of the elevator just in time to see a man reach for Lois’s hand.
His smile faltered.
He didn’t recognize the guy—tall, athletic build, too familiar with Lois for comfort. Clark’s instincts flared. It wasn’t just proximity; it was the way the man looked at her. Like he knew her. Like he used to know her.
Clark’s gaze locked on Lois. She wasn’t pulling away. Not exactly. But she wasn’t leaning in either.
After everything they’d shared last night—the closeness, the quiet laughter, the way she’d looked at him like he was finally hers—this felt like a crack in the glass.
Dan Scardino had barely cleared out of their lives, and now here was someone new. Or old. Another man vying for Lois’s attention. And Clark didn’t even know his name.
But he knew the look. And he knew how easily the past could rewrite the present.
Lois looked at Clark, her eyes catching his with a quiet urgency. The corners crinkled—not from amusement, but something closer to pleading. A silent ask.
She didn’t say a word, but he could read it in her face: I need you here.
Clark rushed over, instinct overriding caution.
“Hi,” he said, extending a hand toward the stranger. “I’m Clark Kent. Lois’s partner and—”
He hesitated, the word catching in his throat. Boyfriend? Not yet. But more than just a friend.
“—her best friend,” he finished, voice steady.
He stood close beside her, the quiet certainty in his posture saying everything the label couldn’t.
Clark placed a steady hand on Lois’s shoulder. It wasn’t possessive—just grounding. A quiet signal, meant more for her than for Jonah.
I’m here. You’re not alone.
But there was something else in the gesture too. A subtle claim. Not ownership, but presence. After everything they’d shared last night, after all the waiting and wondering, he wasn’t about to stand back and let someone rewrite her story.
Jonah’s eyes flicked to Clark’s hand on Lois’s shoulder, then back to Clark himself. His jaw tightened, but he forced a polite smile.
“Best friend, huh?” he said, voice light but edged. “Didn’t realize Lois had a partner at the Planet.”
He glanced at Lois, searching her face for something—permission, maybe. Or reassurance. “I’m not here to stir anything up,” he added quickly. “I just need help. And Lois is the only one I trust to tell the story right.”
But the way he said trust felt deliberate. Like a challenge.
“Jonah, meet me in the conference room. We’ll be right there,” Lois said, her voice composed but clipped.
As he walked away, she turned fully to Clark and caught his tie, tugging him gently toward her. Her eyes searched his.
“Last night mattered to me, Clark,” she said, steady and sincere. “But don’t go all caveman on me, please.”
She took his hand, grounding them both. “Jonah coaches the Metropolis University football team. I tutored him in college—briefly. We went out a couple of times. Nothing serious.”
Her tone was calm, but there was a flicker of vulnerability beneath it. She needed Clark to hear her—not just the facts, but the reassurance.
Clark let out a breath, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of Lois’s hand.
“I know,” he said softly. “I’m not trying to stake a claim. I just…”
He looked toward the conference room where Jonah had disappeared, then back at Lois. His voice dropped, threaded with something raw.
“Every time we get close—really close—someone shows up. Luthor, Mayson, Dan, now Jonah. It’s like the universe keeps testing us, trying to see if we’ll flinch.”
He gave a small, crooked smile. “I didn’t flinch last night. I don’t plan to now.”
His eyes searched hers, steady and open. “Just… don’t shut me out, okay?”
