Archive of Our Own ^beta

The drawing is stuck to the fridge with a ladybug magnet. On the left is a woman with midlength hair and three thick eyelashes on either eye. On the right, a dark haired and blue eyed man with a collared shirt and tie. Between them is a boy with the same dark hair and bright blue eyes as the man. He’s holding one of the woman’s hands and one of the man’s in with hand, his smile–a thick black line of crayon–takes up his entire circle face,

“ –And if he wants he can watch one hour of tv. If you two watch a movie together, the one hour doesn’t apply, but it’s one or the other,” Kon tears his eyes off the drawing to bob his head at Lois. She only has one earring on and the zipper of her dress isn’t fully zipped up. She and Clark have gotten invited to a full-day Wanye Enterprises event that’ll end with a gala that goes on late at night. Getting ready for it has left her… Disheveled. But Lois is a smart woman. She knows what a mess everything is, but she just has too much to do to fix it. This only seems to frustrate her more.

“Only tell Jon about these options if he asks, though, because I’d rather he doesn’t spend the whole time focused on watching something. Also–” The toast pops out of the toaster and Lois takes it out, spreading butter and strawberry jam on it while trying to put one of her heels on. “–Make sure he doesn’t bribe you into giving you a third cookie if asks for some. Two is the max, it’s not just unhealthy for him, but that much sugar will create a little hyper monster that I promise you, Conner, you don’t want to meet. Also, you remember what I told you about the blinds?”

Kon does not remember what she told him about the blinds.

“Okay, good. We’ll be back no later than ten, just try to keep him out of trouble for the day,” Lois pinches Jon’s check affectionately as she says this, which earns her a full–toothed smile (or almost full-toothed, Jon’s lost a few baby teeth recently) and sets down the plate with toast and scrambled eggs. “Not the easiest job.”

Jon starts to complain, but Clark shoots him a knowing look and smile. At this his son pretends to make a grumpy face. As much as Kon would hate to admit it, it’s adorable.

“But anyways, you’ll be fine, won’t you, Conner?”

Kon blinks, “Um, yes, ma’am.”

“What have I told you, Conner? Just call me Lois!”

“Yes, ma’– Lois,” Kon says. 

“Just like Clark,” She mutters to herself, shaking her head and smiling. Goosebumps prick up on Kon’s skin as he desperately prays Clark wasn’t listening.

“Anyways, we should be going,” Lois grabs Clark and starts pushing him to the door, looking down at her little wrist watch. “We’re already going to be late.”

Jon finishes scarfing down his breakfast as Lois gives him a hug, “Bye, sweetie. Be goodQ!” 

“Bye, mom,” Jon chirps.

Then she gives one to Kon, less tight, less casual. Her perfume smells like citrus. 

“Bye, honey.”

“Bye,” Kon says. Clark moves to where Jon is sitting.

“Ukiemodh W Rrup ,” He whispers to his son, gently planting a kiss on Jon’s messy mop of black hair. In that moment Kon is hyper aware of himself. Him, standing alone in their house. A guest, a visitor, a stranger, an invader. After hearing the weird phrase enough times Kon once asked Kara what it meant. I love you in Kryptonian, she said her eyes flat, emotion and judgements hidden behind them. Kon really hates super hearing sometimes.

“Ukiemodh W Rrup,” Jon repeats, the words sloppily, but comfortably said. They’re words he’s used to saying, but not necessarily correctly.

Then Clark moves to the door pausing to look at Kon who he had mainly avoided eye contact with as soon as the boy–as soon as his clone , Kon bitterly reminds himself–had gotten there. 

“Bye,” Clark says.

“Bye,” Kon says again, dumbly, looking down at his shoes as the door opens and shuts.

Now it’s just him and Jon.

“So,” Jon says, cheerfully. “What do you want to do?”

They decide to go to a science museum per Jon’s request, heading out a few minutes later. Kon packs one of Jon’s backpacks with sandwiches Louis left them and water. The museum is only a few blocks away from the house, yet Jon insists on taking the bus so that he can gaze out the window.

“Don’t you already get the same view when… In uniform?” Kon asks as the younger boy points out a particularly cute pug that they can see from the window. Jon has his knees on the hair and his body pressed against the glass.

“Exactly,” Jon says, which Kon admits to himself is a pretty darn good answer.

In the museum (which Kon pays passes to with his allowance) there’s a big dinosaur exhibit on display which the two go into. Jon runs from display to display pointing things out and yelling things such as, “Wow, it could fly!” or “Look at how big it was!” or “Remember that big fight with that alien with the weird teeth, didn’t they look just like those?”

Kon isn’t much for science–he associates it too much with Cadmus–but he has to admit the  exhibit is well throughout, the visuals simple and engaging, the descriptions concise, but detailed. He lingers a few steps behind Jon, taking a few pictures to send to Tim. It’s the kind of thing his total nerd for a best friend would find interesting.

Finally, at the end of the exhibit he finds Jon fixated, taking things off and on a scale.

“What Could A T-Rex Eat In A Day?” the display reads in a bright font. On one side of the scale is a mini T-Rex while on the other Jon is stacking different figurines of smaller creatures that are scattered throughout the table.

“I’m supposed to make the two sides equal,” Jon says, frowning. “But it won’t work.” Kon considers just using his TTK to push one side up and getting it over and done with but instead he bends down to take a closer look at the scale. “The best way to do this would be to start with the heaviest one that isn’t heavier than the T-Rex and then the heaviest that isn’t too heavy when combined with the first one and then on.”

“Oh,” Jon says simply, reaching for a brachiopod. He puts one on the scale and it sinks, then he tries another. Then another. He goes as carefully as a kid his age with that amount of energy possibly can. Finally Kon bends over to look at the scale at eye level and declares it a perfect match. Jon cheers. His hands up in the air, his eyes crinkling to make room for a full-toothed smile. Then begs that they at least quickly check out another exhibit. 

“Superheroes and Vigilantes,” reads one of the entrances the hallway at the exhibit leads off to. Jon’s eyes light up.

“Please, Conner, please?”

“Sure,” Kon says, biting his lip. The walk right behind a family. She checks her watch while brushing a piece of her hair back, her heels clicking against the floor. The father is leaning towards the daughter, whose hair is in neat plaits, whispering something in her ear. A boy walks at the front, almost jumping with excitement. 

“Do you think we’ll see Superman?” The boy asks.

“Well, I’m sure there will be pictures of him at least,” The mother says, shaking her head and smiling. “But, Mausi , remember we just moved, I’m sure you’ll meet Superman at some point.”

“Actually, considering the reasons why most people meet Superman, I’m not quite sure it’d be a good thing,” The father says.

The family laughs. Jon shoots Kon a look, smiling mischievously. There’s a secret we share, it says. Kon tries to smile back. He succeeds, but a part of him wishes he hadn't. He misses Jon’s frown.

The room is full of recreations of old and current superhero’s uniforms, clippings from old newspapers and magazines, photographs, and merchandise from over the years. Displays talk about the science behind Beast Boy’s animal transformations, what’s known about the planet Tamaran, evidence for and against the idea that Batman isn’t human. In the middle is the main attraction: the big three’s classic uniforms. Wonder Woman, Batman, and Superman's suits are displayed on faceless mannequins. Kon can easily tell that they’re recreations. There’s no way any of the suits would withstand a single explosion, but then again, most museums don’t have pockets as big as Bruce Wanye’s willing to give them money. 

He reaches out to touch the glass panel in front of Superman’s suit. It’s the one right in the middle, the center, because of course it is. The “S” in the middle is polished and shiny, the suit’s blue, reds, and yellows are bright and bold. This is the suit Jon is going to inherit one day, the emblem shining on his chest as he punches evil villains (not too hard, never too hard–just enough to knock them out) in alley ways, emerging victorious to kiss babies heads and pose for photos, his hair glossy in the sun. It’s perfect. So, so terribly perfect.

Will that inevitable, perfect ever think about Kon, who will be who knows where doing who knows what as who knows who by that point? Will he be stuck as a forever Superboy? Or will he be that no-good-doer in the alley way? Kon imagines Jon’s full-toothed smile on the mannequins in the suit. Jon’s full-toothed smile in the newspaper clippings. Jon’s full-toothed smile as he saves the world. Jon’s full-toothed smile as he knocks Kon out cold.

“Conner!” Jon calls and Kon finally unfreezes, turning to see where Jon is. There’s a big photo of Superboy (Kon’s version), Wonder Girl, Impulse, and Robin which he quickly snaps a photo of for the group chat. Then he turns to see what Jon is looking at, a photo of Kon during his Hawaii days–piercings, leather jacket, sunglasses, and fingerless gloves. The boy in the photo smirks slightly at the camera. Smirks right at Kon. 

“Is that you?” Jon asks.

“Um, well, it was from a while ago,” Kon says. “You know, people have… Phases.”

Jon doesn’t say anything, he’s still engrossed by the picture. Kon slams his hand down on it, Jon jumps up a bit in surprise, hovering a few inches off the ground for a second before noticing and quickly flying back down. Kon lifts his hand, eyes wide.

“Sorry,” Kon says. “I didn’t mean to… I don’t know… The photo’s just a bit embarrassing, forget about it.”

“But why?” Jon says, turning to look up at Kon. “It’s so cool!”

“What?” Kon asks, blinking. Cool is definitely not the word Clark would have used and definitely not one of many ones he did.

“The leather jacket and the gloves and the sunglasses and your hair–” Jon says, waving his hand excitedly. “It looks so cool! Like you ride a motorcycle or like you’re the main character in one of those action movies! Or both!”

“Oh, um,” Kon looks back at the photo of a time he’s come to think of as reckless rebellion and pointless attention-seeking for so long now. A period of time he’s now also realized was not the best in terms of mental health. But there’s a certain nostalgia to it. Thrifting for the leather jacket and getting medicine for his ear after it got infected since he had to pierce it himself with kryptonite (nothing else would actually go through his ear). The one time he hotwired a car only to realize later that it was a criminal’s car and having to race through the streets followed by both the police and a gang. It was chaos, but he kind of likes chaos. “Thanks.”

Jon simply smiled back. Then he ran over to look at the current Robin’s costume. 

“Jon, do you have to be so loud when you drink it?” Kon asked as the two walked down the street with brightly colored slurpees in hand. After eating their sandwiches on some benches near the museum Jon had convinced Kon that they should get a treat. Kon picked blue raspberry like a civilized human (or half-human) being while Jon had, instead, decided to make a monstrous blend of the flavors that was quickly turning into a brown mush.

“Yes,” Jon said, slurping even louder. The drink was already staining his mouth all sorts of colors that Kon hoped would fade away before Lois found out. Kon rolled his eyes, but smiled despite himself.

“I’m half-convinced your drink is alive, you know,” He said.

“It’s actually delicious,” Jon says, making another obnoxious slurping sound that at this point was probably for the sole purpose of annoying Kon. “You’d know if you’d just try it.” 

Kon puts in a hand in front of Jon’s drink while the younger boy is angling out towards him. “You can do whatever you–I mean, not really, but you get what I mean–I just don’t want that poison in my mouth. I’m not interested in being in the news, thank you very much.”

“In the news?” Jon asks, titling his head.

As Kon moves his hands, his drink swirls in its cup dramatically, “‘Early Death By Slurpee.’”

Jon laughs, or, more like giggles, Kon decides. 

“If it’s really that weird maybe it’ll give me more superpowers,” Jon says, his voice dropping slightly at the word “more”.

“Yeah, you’ll be able to walk through walls. All ghosts can do that,” Kon says, in return Jon tries to attack him with his straw.

They stroll through the streets for a few more minutes until Jon points out a park with a playground in it that he really likes.

“Can we go?” The younger boy begs. “Pleaseee?”

“Sure,” Kon said. “Just throw your cup away.” Jon then proceeds to hand Kon the empty cup which the older boy takes automatically without stopping to realize his mistake. Then Jon runs over to the park.

“Jon! I’m not a trash can,” He complains, throwing both cups away himself and feeling rather like a mom.

Then he goes to the park to watch Jon who seems to have found (or maybe made?) a friend. It’s a girl who looks around Jon’s age with overalls on and dark brown locs.

“Jon, tie your shoes!” He calls, squinting, as Jon runs around, blissfully unaware of anything else.

“Oh, kids their age sure can be a hassle,” A woman next to him says. She’s sitting on one of the benches surrounding the playground, rocking a baby in her hands. “I would know, that one’s mine.” She nods to the girl Jon’s playing with.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Kon says. “Do they know each other from school?”

“Mhm,” The woman says. “I’m always hearing about Jon's little misadventures, although I’m sure you know more about that than I do, he seems like a boy that talks a lot.”

“Yeah –h, I do know,” Kon says, looking straight ahead. And in some ways it’s true. But it’s not his baking adventures or his… What do kids do? …Attempts to free his class hamster that Kon sees, but it’s Jon’s escapades to go off and fight villains with Robin that Kon hears about–either witnessing them or from other capes who’d joke about it with each other. The mundane part of Jonathan Samuel Kent feels like something Kon shouldn’t be privy to, the life of the bright son of two reporting growing up in a big city. Despite it all it remained perfectly untouched by alien invasions and super villains. What right does Kon have to mess it up?

“Are you two brothers?” The woman asks, breaking off his thoughts. Kon pauses, saying they’re brothers might lead to her asking Clark and Lois about “Jon’s brother” later. Then she might wonder why no one has ever mentioned him. Not to mention that Kon didn’t want Lois and Clark analyzing him claiming to be Jon’s brother if they ever found out.

“No, cousins,” Kon says. “I live in Smallville.”

“Oh, I think I went to the pumpkin patch there once, nice town,” The woman says. “I’m Meryl.”

“Conner,” Kon says. 

“Oh, wait, Conner?” The woman asks. “I’ve heard about you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, at Annie–my daughter–’s birthday party Jonathan was telling all the kids about you stopping some bad guy? I thought it was from a cartoon, but I suppose Jon just embellished the story a bit. He’s a great storyteller, you know. And he seems to look up to you a lot.”

Kon froze, not sure what to say. She doesn’t know that. She’s just saying that to be nice. Jon was just using the story to look cool. He doesn’t know what any of it means. Does Clark know about Jon’s stories? 

“Anyways, I’ve got to get going,” The woman said, standing up and placing her baby in a stroller. “Annie! We’re going!”

“But me and Jon–” Annie started to say.

“Sorry, honey, but we’ve got to go.”

“Actually, Ww should get going too, Jon, ” Kon says and although Jon pouts, he’s soon content to walk home with Annie. They talk loudly about teachers, TV shows, and random facts they’ve collected.

“This is our stop,” Meryl finally says when they reach a red-brick building. “It was nice to see you, Jonathan and nice meeting you, Conner!”

“Bye!” Jon says waving and Kon waves too. Then it’s just the two of them walking down the street again.

“What’s for dinner?” Jon asks and Kon groans hadn’t Lois said something about buying something to eat or making something simple? Only they didn’t have enough money for an actual meal left though and Kn had been raised (sort of) by Ma Kent, “making something simple” was just out of the question.

“What do you think about Chicken Pot Pie?” Kon asks. Jon brightens.

When the two of them arrive at the Kent's apartment Jon opens drawers and cabinets until he finds the binder of recipes Ma gave Clark years ago. Kon leaves through it until he finds a Chicken Pot Pie. They have a good amount of the ingredients, but are missing a few so they go to a nearby grocery store. 

Like in the museum, Jon zips from one aisle to the next, yelling “Conner!” Excitedly if he thinks he’s found something they need. Unfortunately he reads “celery” as “calorie” and points out cereal boxes with their calorie counts written on the sides and yells out “Conner!” even if he’s just met a cute cat or found a carrot that looks like Abraham Lincoln. 

They buy red potatoes, egg wash, celery, and corn. Everything is wrapped in plastic and sealed away in metal unlike in Smallville where they buy from friends, farmers markets, and stands, or simply eat the food harvested off their own land; it's something Ma complains about after returning from her visits to Metropolis.

“Your little brother is so cute!” The cashier tells him as Jon jams the items into a bag excitedly. His tongue is slightly stuck out as he shoves the bag of potatoes with the speed of a professional bagger and not nearly the same amount of precision. 

“Thanks,” Kon says, hoping Jon is too distracted to correct her.

When they get home Kon shows Jon how to massage the dough for the crust while he starts chopping up vegetables. 

“It’s like play-doh,” Jon says while trying to flatten it a bit with a rolling pin.

“Yeah, except you can eat this one,” Kon says because he shall turn Jon into a cooking enthusiast.

“But of course you can eat play-doh.” 

“Well, as a sane human being, haven’t,” Kon says, his voice hitching a bit as he saws “human”.

“See, that’s why you don’t get it,” Jon says, waving his hand like a scientist making a conclusion.

“Get what?”

“No, sorry, only play-doh eaters can know,” Jon says.

“You really eat play-doh?”

“When I was younger. Everyone eats it when they’re young,” Jon says. Kon rolls his eyes and doesn’t even both point out that Jon is young.

“Not everyone , I don’t think they had play-doh when Damian was growing up in the League of Assassins,” Kon points out.

“Well, they probably had toxic chemicals and poison and stuff. It’s the same thing.”

“...Does it even taste good?”

“Yeah, really good,” Jon says, and then almost like an afterthought adds, “but then I threw up.”

They make the sauce and the filling in separate saucepans. Then all the pieces are put together on a pie plate. Jon insists on making the little “X” on the top of the crust himself. Then Kon pops it in the oven.

They play a round of Spit with Justice League themed playing cards (Batman is the jester which Kon really wants to share with his friends, but the fear of an early death stops him from taking a photo). Then Uno (Jon wins both and while Kon was going easy on him for ‘Spit’ he never even had a chance of beating Jon at Uno).

The oven then beeps and Jon sets the table (or, in other words, tosses forks, knives, and unfolded paper towels in the area around the plates) and serves water (which seems to drip everywhere but the cup). Finally the oven beeps and the two sit down to eat. There’s a short silence between them as they dig in, a product of both hunger and awkwardness.

“It’s so good!” Jon says, shoving more in his mouth.

“Yeah, and you made it,” Kon says, feeling quite accomplished with how he’s match-made Jon with veggies. 

“Not really,” Jon says. “You’re the one who knew how to do everything, even what wasn’t on the recipe. I didn’t know you were good at cooking!”

“Well, living with Ma has taught me some things.”

“What’s it like living on the farm?” Jon asks. Kon blinks, surprised it’s him Jon is asking and not his farmboy for a father. He’s Ma and Pa’s original son anyways, the real one.

“Calm, much calmer than here. Everyone’s friendly. It’s nice, but it can be lonely sometimes.”

“Oh,” Jon says. “Ma says you’re good at milking the cows. Could you bring milk next time so that the next Chicken Pot Pie will be even more homemade-y?”

“Uh,” Kon puts a spoonful of filling in his mouth to buy him a few seconds. Next time? The words feel almost electric. “Yeah, sure.”

Jon hums happily, finishing off his water.

“You know, next time you visit the farm I could teach you how to milk the cows and everything, if you want. It’s not that easy, but it can be kind of fun,” Kon adds.

“Yeah!” Jon says, he skids around with socks on like a skater as he goes to put his plate away. “That sounds so cool.”

“Wait, Jon, don’t do that with–” There’s a loud crash. “...A plate in your hands.” 

Kon stays at the kitchen counter for a few seconds longer, finishing the little bit left of his food and contemplating life before dealing with the mess.

“Conner!” Jon calls.

“Coming,” Kon says and it strikes him how weird it is that Jon calls him Conner. Well, it isn’t really, it’s what most of the world calls him, what his friends at school call him, what Lois and Clark do too. But Tim, Cassie, and Bart have always just called him Kon –not short for Conner Kent, but Kon-EL. And so do Ma and Pa when asking about his day and showing him how to do this and that and when telling him the cows seem to like him an awful lot. It’s not Conner that milks the cows, really, it’s Kon.

There’s some people who call him Conner that he cares about when it comes to those who call him Kon…

“I’m really sorry,” Jon says, starting to cry a bit. There’s different sized plate shards scattered on floor of the kitchen

“It’s okay,” Kon says, pulling Jon back a bit softly. “Find some shoes and put them on, your cleanest ones please, I don’t want Lois coming after me.” Jon nods and Kon goes to put on his own shoes one and find a broom. Kon tries to shoo Jon away from the accident when the younger boy comes back, but he insists on helping so the two of them scoop up plate shards together. 

“I’m really, really sorry, Conner,” Jon says. “I didn’t know that would happen.”

“Well, next time,” Kon says as they scoop up the last of it. “Maybe don’t skate around the house with a ceramic plate in your hands. But really, Jon, it’s fine. It happens. Especially with our powers.”

“Oh, what have you broken?” Jon asks as Kon goes to find a vacuum.

“There’s one time I knocked down the pole that holds up the shower curtain,” Kon says, smiling at the memory. “And the time I accidentally burned a hole right through a fish tank. Like, both sides.”

Jon giggles and swings his legs a bit from the stool he’s sitting on next to the kitchen counter. “How do you accidentally do that?”

“Hey, this isn’t about me!” Kon jokes as he finishes up and starts pouring the milk he started heating up into a mug. He hands it to the younger boy. “And um… Jon?”

“Yeah?”

“You can call me Kon.”

Jon peers up at him with his wide eyes, the mug held tight between both hands.

“Erm– you know, only if you want, Conner’s fine too–”

“Thanks, Kon,” Jon says quietly.

“No problem.”

They play a few more rounds of Uno and card games, Kon actually winning some this time. Kon also teaches Jon how to play Blackjack and tries to teach him how to shuffle. Finally Jon yawns and Kon declares it time to get into his pajamas.

Kon cleans up the kitchen (some things were still left from cooking) as Jon takes a bath. As he stands there alone he scans the fridge. There’s a photo of Lois and Clark at their wedding day. A picture of baby Jon at the beach, looking confused and wide-eyed. Then there’s spaghetti art signed in big loop handwriting. One of the photos reads “Happy Father’s Day” above a laughing little Jon and smiling Clark who looks down at his son fondly.

The younger boy then emerges hovering in a fuzzy Superman (or Superboy, maybe?) onesie.

“Nice pj’s,” Kon notes as he turns on the dishwasher.

“Thanks!” Jon chirps. “Can we watch a movie?”

Kon checks the time, it’s not too late yet and Jon will probably fall asleep during the movie anyways. 

“Sure, what do you want to watch?” The two sit down on the sofa. Jon brings blankets and pillows from his bed. There are fairy lights on the windowsill behind them. Both are wearing fuzzy socks as Jon declared them, “the best thing ever” and demanded Kon try them, to which the older boy has no regrets. Then Jon decides on a movie about a family of koalas and the two watch in gentle silence.

“That one looks like you!” Jon says sleepily, pointing to a koala with a giant mustache.

“Well, that one’s you.” Kon points out a bald one. Jon’s giggle, but his smile is small, pulled down by the drowsy weight of sleep. It’s starting to get Kon too, but he reminds himself that this isn’t his home. 

This place of pillows, blankets, fairy lights, and fuzzy socks isn’t his. It’s not his home to fall into blissful sleep in. To wake up when the sun is rising in and watch movies in.and cook in and laugh in. Kon is a guest, a visitor, a stranger, an invader. He’s not the one who gets to have Jon’s full-toothed smiles on his face. Or receive them. Never will be. Kon shouldn’t forget that. He can’t.

But then Jon’s sleepy little head of black hair falls onto his shoulder, only a big heavy and ever so warm and the thoughts pause, just for a second.

“Good night, Jon,” Kon whispers.

“Ukiemodh W Rrup, Kon,” Jon whispers back. 

And for a moment they’re the only ones in the world.