Work Header  One Wedding and an Admission  Work Text:  Clark
felt like a fool standing in front of the church with his
invitation clutched in hand, a life preserver. He was welcome
here: the invitation was proof.  But the invitation was
addressed to Clark, not Superman. He knew that Superman would
never be welcomed here, and his suit (his real one) constricted
tighter and tighter around his form the more he thought about
going in.  It wasn't as if he'd never made up excuses to
disappear before. He could go save every gazelle from every lion
in Africa and he'd still probably make it back in time for the
reception—it was ironic how the vagaries of fate always assigned
him duties when he was least prepared for them and gave him none
when he most prayed for them.  But he didn't want to make or
create an excuse this time; he couldn't. He needed to go into
that church. He needed this wedding to be real. Because it
certainly didn't feel that way when he thought about it; the
notion skittered around in his brain like