Jason Todd is quite a bit shorter than him, with a slighter build, and, well, human. But it was the suddenness of the attack that made the teenager able to overbalance Clark, leading them both to land against the wall.
The Red Hood grabbed fistfuls of the red cape, yanking the elder down harshly, and leaned up for a rough kiss that would’ve surely left bruises had Clark not been Kryptonian. It was hot and angry, and Jason growled deep in his throat and he demanded attention from the Kryptonian, his lips roughly claiming every inch of the alien mouth, and one hand reached up to grab at Clark’s hair, pulling him closer until he was pressed down against the teen, too shocked to fight, and scared he would hurt the boy if he did anyway.
Eventually, the kiss softened, anger draining as he seemed to beg. For attention, for understanding—something, anything like that from someone so important as Superman. And he was shaking by the end, upset with himself that he let the angry mask off for a few seconds, and he wrenched free, reaching for the helmet.
And Clark caught his wrist. Gentle as always, pulling him back.
"Why are you leaving?" He asked. "I didn’t say no."