[ WP ] You are secretly a super hero working a desk job . You are terrible at suppressing your powers in the office .

Clark stared at the full-size vending machine he ’ d just carried across the entire office. He ’ d done it again, unintentionally displayed his superpowers while not in his disguise. This time he was surely busted, there was no way they wouldn ’ t realize what he ’ d done. It wasn ’ t exactly typical for a middle aged man to single-handedly carrying what amounted to hundreds of pounds of dead weight over a hundred feet. With one arm. 
 
 “ All right, ” Steve from account said, strolling into the kitchen. Clark turned toward him and the several people following behind. “ I ’ ve rounded up the gang. Let ’ s move this vending mach— ” He paused, glancing over at where the vending machine had been beforehand, and where it was now. “ Oh, looks like we ’ re already done. Good job, gang.'' He turned toward Clark. `` You do this on your own, Kent? ” 
 
 Clark glanced around the room, looking for anything that might make it seem less like he ’ d just performed an act of superhuman strength. All he saw was a folding chair and several cardboard boxes. He'd have to be talking to an idiot for them to believe those things would've made the feat possible. Still, it was better than admitting to the truth. “ Yeah, ” he said. “ Just used a folding chair and some cardboard. Easy enough. ” 
 
 “ Nice, ” Steve said, “ that ’ s what I was going to do. Looks like we ’ re all done here. ” He folded his left hand into a finger-pistol and fired it at Clark. “ Good job, team. You guys are rockstars. ” 
 
 The group that had followed Steve into the room all turned and wandered back out, talking softly amongst themselves. Steve watched them for a moment before spinning back to Clark and making his way over. 
 
 “ Clarkster, ” he said, “ my man. Thanks for taking care of that, didn ’ t want to break a sweat. ” He nudged Clark with his left elbow. “ You ’ re a real go-getter, you know that? I might give you a rec to the uppers if you keep it up, see if I can get you a nice promo. How's Manager Kent sound? With any luck, you could end up like me in three to five. Nice cushy job at the senior manager level, raking in that $ 75k per year. ” He again nudged Clark with his elbow. 
 
 Clark smiled and lowered his left hand into his pants pocket. He didn ’ t want or need a promotion, he made plenty on his side job as Superman. Still, it wouldn ’ t hurt the façade if he put a little more effort into his non-super identity. A promotion might make him seem less like a man in disguise. “ I ’ d love that. ” 
 
 “ Fantastic,'' Steve said. `` Being a manager has some serious perks. Speaking of, could you do me a fave and reheat my coffee?'' He nodded toward the mug in his hand and then to the microwave over the sink. 
 
 “ Sure, ” Clark said, glaring at the mug. His vision turned red as two beams propelled out from his eyes, almost instantly boiling the liquid within. He blinked, smiled at Steve, and then immediately realized what he ’ d just done. He was now was busted for sure, there was no way Steve had n't noticed his blatant use of superpowers. His identity would forever be ruined. He'd have to move away, find a new town, leave Lois and the life he'd built. But how could he? They'd all be at risk now, everyone he'd known and loved as Clark. The world would know he had been Superman all along. 
 
 “ What was that? ” Steve said, staring down at the boiling coffee in his hand. “ Laser vision? ” 
 
 “ N-no, ” Clark stammered. “ Laser eye surgery. Side effect. They accidentally left the lasers inside. ” 
 
 “ Nice, ” Steve said, glancing back up at Clark ’ s face. He nodded softly, and then bent his left hand into a finger gun. He fired it at Clark ’ s chest. “ Nice, real nice. Thinkin ’ bout getting that myself. Tired of these glasses. Maybe time to do some laser surgery, you know? ” 
 
 “ Yeah, ” Clark said, tilting his head slightly and squinting. “ Sure. ” 
 
 “ Shame about the lasers, though. Hopefully they can fix that up. You ’ re a real outstanding guy, hate to see you have to go on leave for health reasons. Might hurt that chance at a promo. ” Steve lifted the mug to his mouth and took a sip, his face immediately squishing together in discomfort. “ Ooh, that ’ s hot. You got some damn efficient eyes, bud. Maybe not such a bad thing. Plus, laser pointers are pretty cool. We have one in the main conference room, I like to shine it at the people in the building next door. ” 
 
 “ Right, ” Clark said, still unsure of why Steve wasn ’ t in the middle of calling Lex Luther to claim his multi-million dollar reward, or anyone else who might like to hear about who Clark Kent really was. 
 
 “ Anyway, I got ta get back to my desk. Big report due tonight. Hate that stuff. Take it easy, my man. ” 
 
 Steve turned and wandered out of the kitchen, mug clutched in his right hand. Clark made a mental note to try his best not to shoot lasers out of his eyes while in the office anymore, lest one of his less dumb coworkers notice. 
 
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