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In Conner’s well-ordered, little world, the rules were simple:
He had a Dada. Dada smelled like clean suits and paper. Dada was inside and in the office… He knew how to make the lights change colors with his voice and always had the right toys for him. He was steady and safe.
He had a Papa. Papa smelled like sunshine and cookies. He was also inside (mostly). He gave the best hugs and always knew how to make the tickle monster appear. He was warm and joyful.
And he had the Blue Man. Conner loved the Blue Man.
The Blue Man was different. He was an outside thing, like the clouds and the birds. He was on the big screen, flying and saving people. Sometimes he would land on the balcony and wave through the glass. He was big and strong and had a bright smile that made Conner feel happy. Conner would always press his hands against the glass and coo back at him. The Blue Man was amazing.
The rules were clear. Inside was for Dada and Papa, for Auntie Loi, who would drop by sometimes with gifts. Outside was for the Blue Man.
Until one day, the rule was broken.
Clark had been out helping after a storm. It was easier to just come home as Superman than to find a place to change. He landed softly on the balcony, slid the glass door open, and stepped inside, expecting an empty living room.
He didn't expect to see a pair of wide, blue eyes staring at him from a fortress of pillows on the floor.
Conner froze, a block clutched in his hand. His mouth was a perfect little 'O' of shock. The Blue Man was inside . This was not the rule.
– Hey, little guy – Clark said, his voice soft. He kept his movements slow, careful not to scare him. – Just passing through.
But Conner didn't look scared. He looked… fascinated. He dropped the block and slowly got to his feet, taking a hesitant step forward. Then another.
Clark knelt down, making himself smaller, less intimidating. Conner stopped right in front of him, his head tilted. He studied the bright red 'S', the blue suit and the cape.
He reached out and poked Clark's knee.
The Blue Man was Real.
Emboldened, Conner took another step. The Blue Man smelled like outside air and rain. But underneath that, he smelled like something else. Something warm and familiar. Something that made Conner feel safe.
– Did you have a good day with Dada? – Clark smiled.
Conner nodded, mesmerized. The Blue Man knew about Dada.
– Want to see something cool? – Before Conner could respond, the Blue Man's hands were gently around his waist, lifting him up. Then, a wonderful, familiar feeling washed over him, the floor drifting away beneath his feet.
He was flying.
It was just like when Papa Clark flew him around the penthouse before bed, making airplane noises. Or when Dada Lex held him high in the air, his strong hands never letting go.
The Blue Man floated a few feet off the ground, holding Conner securely.
The room looked different from up here. He could see there were things on the top of the shelf. Weird. How come his Dada never offered to let him play with those things?
But then the Blue Man turned them into a gentle, slow circle and Conner's initial surprise melted into joyful recognition. He laughed, a sound of delight that echoed in the quiet room. This wasn't strange or scary. This was a feeling he knew. This was a feeling of home .
And just like that, a new, brilliant idea bloomed in Conner's mind. It was so simple, so obvious.
The Blue Man was inside. The Blue Man was fun. The Blue Man made him feel safe and happy, just like his parents did.
Therefore, the Blue Man must also be his father.
He beamed up at the man in blue, all hesitation gone. Conner snuggled in, patting the emblem on his chest. "Blue Dad" he stated, as if announcing a scientific fact.
Clark's breath caught in his throat. Blue Dad. He held his son tighter, his eyes suddenly wet.
– Yeah, buddy – he whispered into soft hair. – Yeah.
Lex walked in ten minutes later, holding a fresh bottle. He stopped short at the sight before him: Superman was sitting cross-legged on the floor, with Conner perched happily on his knee, examining the material of his cape with intense curiosity.
Conner looked up and spotted him. He pointed a triumphant finger at the man holding him.
– Dada! Look! New Blue Dad – he announced, as if presenting a fascinating new discovery.
Lex set the bottle down and walked over, kneeling in front of them. He met Clark’s gaze, Clark chuckled and looked extra guilty for not having corrected the boy. Don’t let me ruin his join. Lex sighed. Of course he would have to be the adult of the situation.
– He’s not a new dad, partner – Lex said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. He reached out and gently tapped Conner’s nose. – He’s your Papa.
Conner’s proud smile faltered and his brow furrowed in confusion. He looked from the strong blue chest he was leaning against to Lex’s face.
– No – he stated, his little voice firm. – Papa Clark. – He pointed toward the kitchen, where he was used to seeing Clark. – Blue Dad. – He patted the symbol on Superman’s chest.
Clark’s heart ached. He shifted Conner so he was facing him.
– Hey, buddy. Look at me. – He waited until Conner’s full attention was on his face.
He took one of Conner’s small hands and gently placed it on the bright red ‘S’ symbol on his own chest.
– This is just a suit, Conner. Like your pajamas. – He then guided Conner’s other hand to his own cheek, letting him feel the familiar skin, the stubble, the warmth – This is Papa.
Conner’s brow was still furrowed, his little mind struggling to reconcile the two images: the Blue Man he saw and the Papa he felt.
Seeing his confusion, Clark made a decision.
– Let me show you.
Still holding Conner securely, he flew them both slowly towards his bedroom. Lex followed silently, a watchful guardian. Clark landed by the closet, never letting go of Conner.
With his free hand, he reached in and pulled out a simple, familiar flannel shirt, the one he always wore on weekends at home. He held it up.
– See? Papa 's shirt.
Conner stared at the shirt. He saw that. He’d fallen asleep on that soft fabric countless times.
Then, moving slowly and deliberately, Clark began to change. First, he let the cape drop to the floor. Then, he unzipped the top of the blue suit just enough to pull his arms free. He shrugged the flannel over the suit’s blue sleeves, leaving the red ‘S’ now framed by soft plaid.
He wasn’t fully Clark Kent. He was something in between.
The mythic Blue Man was being covered up by something warm, soft, and deeply familiar.
Conner’s eyes went wide. He just stared, his brain finally, finally connecting the two images. He reached out and grabbed a handful of the flannel shirt, bringing it to his face and inhaling.
Sunshine. Cookies. Papa.
Conner’s confusion melted away, replaced by a look of awe-struck wonder.
– One Papa – he breathed out, as the discovery of a miracle. – Papa strong and nice.
– Yeah, buddy. – Clark nodded, a tear finally escaping and tracing a path down his cheek. – Just one Papa. Who loves you more than anything.
– Magic Papa!
From the doorway, Lex let out a soft, incredulous chuckle. He had watched the entire revelation in silence, his arms crossed, a single eyebrow arched.
– So the world’s most closely guarded secret is blown because you couldn’t be bothered to change in a phone booth? – he drawled, though his tone lacked any real bite. He was fighting a smile.
– Dada! – Conner turned in Clark’s arms, beaming at Lex. – Papa is magic!
Lex’s feigned sternness melted away. He walked over, his hand coming to rest on Conner’s back.
– I know, partner – He looked at Clark over Conner’s head, his expression one of such open fondness it made Clark’s breath catch. – It’s terribly inconvenient, but yes. Your Papa is… magic.
Conner reached out, grabbing a fistful of Lex’s sweater, trying to pull him into the hug. Lex didn’t resist. He let himself be pulled into the circle, wrapping his arms around both of them, completing their family. He pressed a kiss to Conner’s head and then, to Clark’s delight, another into his husband's temple.
– Don’t let it go to your head, Kent.
Clark laughed, a wet, happy sound.
– No promises.
From that day, Conner became his father’s most enthusiastic accomplice and Lex his most amused commentator.
The baby would watch giggling as Clark would put on his glasses, becoming his cozy Papa. He’d gasp in delight when Clark would take them off and wink, changing into the suit, becoming his strong Papa for a moment before scooping him up for a hug.
Lex would often look up from his work.
– Your clandestine identity is being turned into a circus by a two-foot-tall critic – he’d remark dryly, as Conner pointed and giggled at the transformation.
But he was always watching, a proud smile playing on his lips. Clark Kent could make even the most skeptical of men enjoy a little magic in their lives.