"I did not," he protested, in a dry tone that left no doubt as to his opinion of that. "You weren't young and pretty. You looked about twelve."

He accepted the kiss then eased his hand free and maybe he was kind of restless, maybe he was just using one hand to compensate for not moving anything else, but he slid his fingers lightly through the silver streak in Clark's hair. Gently. Lovingly.

He'd learned a thing or three over the years.