Superman is one thing. Well, not a thing. An *icon* maybe, but... yeah.
Not so much someone to be filed under "guys you perv on," as opposed
to "guys you perv on and then spend the next three days sure that
every little old lady, priest, and innocent child is looking at *you* and
knowing you're awful and bad and terrible and need to scrub your mind
out with lye because you're also going to hell."

Wally takes the hero-worship thing seriously. So, yeah. If anyone
asked -- not that they would, but if they did -- he'd have to tell them
"no, I *haven't* really thought about it," and it would even be true.
Mostly true. Because "thinking about it" means "okay with it," and he
really just wasn't.

But then there was that thing, and the other thing, and both of those
things were kind of messed up, but they meant that he knew that
Superman was *also* Clark Kent, and that was pretty cool, because,
hey, *Smallville*. And pie. Pie of the *gods*.

And also *Clark*. Who is... okay, pretty dorky. And strange. But
also just a guy. A really -- *really* -- big guy, with blue eyes, and
big -- really big -- hands that just *do* things to Wally. Even when
they aren't doing *things*. Even when they're just, you know, on
his shoulders, and not really keeping Wally from vibrating -- though
they could -- so much as *feeling* him vibrating, and those blue
eyes are smiling at him and he knows it's only been about five
seconds -- if that -- but he also knows that he's going to get kissed.

He likes Clark kisses. Because really? They're *super* kisses.

And that's just fine with him.