The bend makes him sit up a little in his seat, swallowing down at first before his eyes settle on the stool again. He reaches down, blocking the general populace with his body before using a bit of heat and his hands to bend things pretty much how they came and by the time he's put the stool back, you almost wouldn't be able to tell it'd been warped. After all, whatever the other guy is doing, it's for his benefit and he doesn't want to leave the barman with a bum stool because of him.

Then he looks up.

"Yeah." But after a moment, he finally adds- "Clark. And you are?"

He's a little confused at someone whose name just seems to be the kind of thing you read about in a comic book, but he nods and lets his mouth settle around-

"M. All right."

He glances around the room before taking his seat again.

"I wasn't really looking to run into anybody anybody, to be honest. It's, um... my first time here. Or, uh, anywhere like here." He tips his chin towards the bar stool. "I didn't really figure... is it a place for people like that too?"

What the hell did he tell Steve?

He shakes his head.

No, he doesn't really- that's not what he's looking for. He doesn't want to separate himself out like that. At least not for-

He blushes, just a little.

"Here's fine. I mean, this is- I've never been to a place like this before either. Probably best to go with baby steps, you know?"

But he catches on what M said, the important part.

"Super human?" He won't call him a freak. Not really fair from his standpoint.

"Really?"

He's a little skeptical, mostly because he's pretty sure he hasn't really put anything out there that's all that interesting. He's just kind of sitting here, being flabbergasted. But hopefully, he can change that.

"So, um, how are... things?"

Or not.

Unsubtle is probably best. Mostly because it means it couldn't be mistaken for something else.

"A 'gene' pirate?" Sorry, he needs a moment to wrap his brain around that. But the question has him ducking his head a little, some color coming to his cheeks.

"I mentioned it to a friend that, um..." how did he explain this exactly? There'd been an open beer and it did nothing to him but Steve had had a few and he'd started telling him about all kinds of stuff, his feelings, his dreams, and Clark had felt the need to share in kind. There'd been a bit of a scramble to find something that wouldn't get him in trouble, but eventually he'd admitted he was... well... not so much with the 'straight', not that he'd done anything about it.

There were more ways than one that Smallville had been alienating.

BadumCHING.

"My, uh. My friend Steve said I should come. Said it might make me feel more... comfortable about stuff." The whole 'being bi' thing. Though after he'd done some research, he was pretty sure he was pan? It was all just a little confusing to deal with.

But he realizes after a moment that might have made it sound like he was some sort of- that is, he wasn't gawking or anything, it wasn't- he didn't-

"Me stuff. Stuff about who I... like."

He'd been about to shrug, but then M taps his foot and the blush gets a little redder. Okay so-

"I don't know, are you flirting with me or messing with me?"

The swallow is almost audible. By which the narration means that it is audible, just a little, as he looks up at M.

"I wouldn't mind if you were flirting with me. It... might even be kind of nice. First night here and a hot guy flirts with me." He can't help that it brings a crooked smile to his lips. "Pretty lucky, right?"

He shrugs, because it's a convenient way to answer things when he's awkward, very hard to put your foot in your mouth that way... but after a sip of his coke, he decides to actually use his words.

"Well, uh, not much to me. I'm in my second year in the veterinary program. This is pretty much my first real time in a city other than like, heading into Town to go to the Walmart sometimes. I'm from Kansas originally, as small as towns get really, and my family have a farm that I help with during the summer."

And otherwise, but the guy doesn't need to know about that.

"Um... how'd you... know about the-" he glances over at the barstool, "that? I don't really tell people about that." He's thinking of his studies when he adds- "Is there something about how I smell or something?"

He doesn't think he looks weird.

He looks a little sheepish at the laugh, because well, he deals with animals! They do so much with smell! It made sense in his head, anyway. But when M tucks in a little closer and starts talking, his eyes just get wider and wider.

Kidnapped? Experimented on? Computer in his-

He can't help a moment, a flicker up to try and look through his head, see where that computer is, if there are... scars. It makes him hurt, in his chest. After all, it wasn't as if he hadn't been afraid of that very thing his entire life: being taken from his parents, being made into a perfect soldier, a weapon, really, for someone's war. And he doesn't pity M, who clearly's made a life for himself, who's comfortable enough in who he is to do something like this. But he's angry on his behalf, he can't help that.

But that doesn't help M, now, does it? And he can be angry on his own account. It's the kind... well, the kind of thing his mother warned him about as a kid, after his ill-fated attempt to take on a gang of hoodlums by himself where he'd gotten a faceful of buckshot for his trouble and had ended with someone's arms being literally burned straight off.

Not one of his better moments.

So he swallows all that nonsense down and looks over at M, lips tight before he can finally speak.

"I appreciate that." And once he's sort of gotten past the anger and the Feelings, he can actually be curious. And kind of intrigued.

"My brain waves? Really?"

...he knows how much goes through his head most days. All the things he technically sees and hears and smells and tastes that he filters out to keep himself from going bonkers. Not to mention all the things he actually does think about.

"...I'm not giving you a headache, am I?"

Clark likes his voice. It's rough, but... oddly elemental. Like the ground shifting in an earthquake. Maybe it's even a little hot? He's not going to say anything but he does duck his head again at the laugh.

"That's kinda what I meant. It's... definitely more than normal. I know I'm a lot, um, different from normal."

But he does tilt his head a little in a crooked smile to add-

"Not that different is bad. It might be nice to... spend time with someone who's different too. I've never met anyone like me before."

He glances around for a moment before nodding and putting his glass back on the bar. He'd liked being here, and it was a nice place. He might even be back. But having found someone who seems to share more than most people do... that feels like a sign. And he'd much rather talk than shout about this kind of stuff.

He uncurls from his seat at the bar, taking a moment to stretch as he stands since he'd been tucked against a wall. He's taller and broader than he'd looked before; M will almost certainly notice that he tends to 'make' himself smaller than he is. But when he's properly on his feet, he'll hold out a hand for M.

It's quaint, maybe, but genuine.

"Okay. I'm assuming you know someplace?"

His whole life. He's been hiding... pretty much forever. Which is why he finally laughs at the mugger comment. Yeah, not really something he worries about, other than a mugger maybe hurting themselves trying to hurt him.

And it's nice, not to have to pretend to worry about it.

"That sounds nice."

He tilts his head to the door.

"Lead the way?"

Clark watches the whole exchange and he can't help a mildly apologetic look at the bartender before they make their way out. The question gets a scrub to the back of his neck.

"Yeah, that's the plan." He looks over at M. "...is it that surprising?"