Chapter Text
The ocean crashed against the rocks. A siren perched, her long green hair cascading around her outstretched wings. She sang a beautiful melody that danced through the air.
The sea around her was stained red from her latest victim. A whole beach full of people rushed into the water, straight toward their own demise.
Robin stood perfectly still.
He was prepared, and made sure his team was prepared, too. Their comms had sound canceling capabilities, though unfortunately there hadn’t been time to change into their waterproof suits.
“Bart and Cassie, shut her up. Kon and I will clear the beach.”
“What?” Bart said, a hand tapping his comms as he adjusted the volume.
“Come on,” Cassie grabbed his hand and flew them both to the rock.
Stopping the stampede wasn’t going to be easy. Kon could stretch his TTK, but a surge of beachgoers were out of his reach. Tim used his grappling hook as a rope, but by the time he restrained three people he knew he wasn’t going to be fast enough. He swiped someone’s speaker and blasted it as high as it could go. If he held the speaker close enough, he could stun a few people at a time, long enough for them to stop running and let him stuff their ears with some rubber ear plugs.
Once Robin got the last of them, Kon flew to his side. He was smiling that smile.
“Of course you had ear plugs. What else you got in that utility belt?”
“Can we just focus on the mission, please?” He said, tersely. Kon blinked, then followed his line of sight to the siren.
“Oh, shit,” Kon said. Bart and Cassie’s comms must’ve been compromised, because they were throwing themselves onto the rock, ocean spray hitting their backs, climbing right into the creature’s trap.
Robin dove into the sea.
“Not you too,” Kon exclaimed. He shook off his surprise and flew at the siren, fist first. Her whole face transformed with an ugly snarl. Her pearly whites were replaced by razor sharp fangs and she ducked just in time to avoid his punch.
She sang a single note so piercing, his comms cracked. Kon tried to cover his ears and scream la-la-la, but it was too late. He was zombified, crawling toward her just like Bart and Cassie.
The siren stretched her wings and leaned back, jaw unhinging as Bart reached her first. Just before she could bite his head off, she froze and screamed. It was a far cry from her beautiful song and finally, the spell was broken. Kon, Cassie, and Bart winced in pain.
The siren collapsed to the ground.
Robin, dripping wet, held a broken shell in one hand.
“She’s just stunned,” he said, dropping the makeshift weapon. “You have to stab them in the wings. We can hold her at the tower until Aquaman can come and pick her up.”
Kon looked at him with something like admiration. Tim had to look away, and resist the urge to push him off the rocks.
Bart groaned and rubbed his head.
“Ugh,” Cassie made a face. “I’m gonna have that song stuck in my head all day.”
They always debriefed after a mission. Tim stood at the screen, while everyone else took a tall swivel chair at the sleek table.
Tim was the only one still in uniform, though he’d towel dried his hair. The salt and sand still stuck in his suit was uncomfortable, but not unbearable. Kon, on the other hand.
“Just change. Come on. Your kevlar is cracking—” said Kon.
“I’m fine—”
“You sound like a glow stick,” said Bart, unhelpfully.
“Exactly,” Kon agreed, never taking his eyes off Robin. “I can lend you some clothes.”
“Can we just get through this report?” Tim snapped.
Bart and Cassie shared a look. Kon smiled like this was still a joke.
“Come on. Sweatpants aren’t gonna reveal your secret identity. And admit it, you’ve been dying to steal one of my shirts—”
“I said I’m fine,” Tim said, turning to face the touchscreen. He scrolled on the report and asked all the right questions. Bart and Cassie answered simply, but Kon got creative with it.
“She wasn’t my type. Make a note of that,” Kon said.
Tim clenched his jaw, but his back was still to the table.
“Not what I asked.”
“Okay, but I’m just letting you know. I’m into sexy, mysterious brunettes—”
Tim whirled around.
“Can you just shut up? No one thinks you’re funny.”
Cassie and Bart stared, wide eyed. Kon didn’t say anything for a beat. Then he frowned.
“I’m not being funny.”
“Well, it’s distracting.”
“Oh, I’m distracting—?” He started, with a lilt in his voice. Tim wanted to punch him.
“If you’re not going to be helpful, why don’t you just leave?”
Kon stood, crossing his arms.
“Are you mad at me or something?”
“Oh my god,” Tim said, like he couldn’t believe his stupidity. Kon narrowed his eyes, and Tim continued, “I’m not mad, I’m annoyed— because you can’t go five minutes without begging someone to give you attention! It’s getting old.”
For a second, everyone held their breath. Kon glared.
“I don’t know what this is really about, but I’m gonna leave. Not because you told me to! Because I want to. By the way, you smell like fish.”
He left.
Tim cleared his throat.
“We have to finish this report,” he said. Bart and Cassie were slowly unfreezing.
“Did Kon, like… go too far—?” Bart asked.
“No,” said Cassie. “He’s been in a mood all day.”
“I’m not in a mood,” said Tim, cloud of anger finally clearing from his vision. “I’m just— stressed. Family stuff.”
“Well, there’s no need to take it out on him,” she said. “You’re being a dick.”
But he wasn’t Dick. That was kind of the problem.
Still. Robin probably owed Superboy an apology.
But a part of him was worried that if Kon smiled at him, with that one, slow, syrupy smile, he’d shove him away and say, “wouldn’t you rather ask Nightwing for his number?”
It was stupid. It was so stupid to be jealous, but he was. He knew, despite flirting with other people, Kon liked Robin. At least a little. But he didn’t want anything to happen between Superboy and Robin, until he was sure his secret identity wouldn’t be a dealbreaker. He’d gone over the medal ceremony a lot, and he’d reached a conclusion around the 18th replay of events. He should’ve stepped up his game. No one was going to be impressed by his looks alone, unlike certain members of his family. But Tim could be charming. He just needed a re-do— a chance to flirt with Kon until he flirted back. And once he knew Kon didn’t find him completely unattractive, he could put this whole insecurity to rest.
Tim opened up Instagram.
Tim followed Lisa, his student tour guide, into the Metropolis University library.
“Our library holds six million volumes— and 2.3 million e-books! We provide students and staff with access to the world’s scholarship.”
“Hm,” Tim said, feigning disinterest. Lisa’s smile tightened, and he felt a little bad. He knew as soon as he name dropped the Wayne Foundation the university higher ups would give her strict orders to woo him, and woo him hard. But he had to pretend to be bored, make her desperate to please, for everything to go according to plan.
“Would it be possible for me to… I probably shouldn’t even ask—”
“No, no,” said Lisa, “Please. Ask. I’m here to help.”
“Well…I was wondering if I could sit in on a communications class.”
“Oh,” she perked up. “Absolutely! What a great idea, actually. I can reach out to someone and find a good time to—”
“I have a pretty tight schedule, so I was hoping I could sit in on a class now.”
“Right now?”
“Right now,” he confirmed.
“Of course,” she said, with so much pep her eye twitched. “Let me just find out if there’s one we can go to real quick.”
Tim let her frantically text someone, probably her boss. He didn’t tell her that he already knew there was a class currently happening, in a lecture hall in the Elderwood building. Lisa eventually figured it out, and she lead the way.
They ducked inside and took a seat in the back.
Tim scanned the classroom while the professor droned on.
His heart dropped to his feet.
Kon was skipping class. He should’ve known.
Fine. It was fine; he would regroup and figure out another way for their paths to cross. Maybe he could trick Lisa into introducing them somehow. The whole reason he requested her as a tour guide was because a certain someone tagged her on instagram.
The class continued. Ten minutes later, the door opened. Tim didn’t even turn around, until the guy he’d been waiting for dropped into the seat on the other side of Lisa.
“Hey,” Conner Kent whispered to her. His gaze landed on Tim.
Superboy was attractive. He’d dealt with that for the past two years. Conner Kent looked just different enough to completely bypass all his well-crafted defenses. He wore glasses, really cute ones, that contributed to the problem in a major way. The oversized flannel didn’t help. While it successfully hid his impressive arms and torso, it did nothing to disguise his height or cologne. Superboy never smelled like this, like a sexy, amber forest. His hair was different, too. It wasn’t gelled, and his curls fell forward, fluffier than normal. Just a few changes made him look like an entirely different person, one Tim had the strangest impulse to take out for milkshakes and a drive-in movie.
“I’m Conner,” he held out a hand. Tim shook it on instinct and did not think about the perfect weight of his grip or the fact that this was technically his third time making a first impression.
“Tim,” he said, and took back his hand.
The lecture lasted about a year, but Tim used the time to brainstorm excuses to keep talking to Conner. The professor finally wrapped things up, and the rest of the students packed their bags. Tim, Lisa, and Conner stood, and Tim realized he didn’t need an excuse at all.
“So,” said Conner, cool and casual. “Is the tour over? Because I could show you some, uh,” he smiled dangerously and concluded, “unofficial places.”
Unbelievable. This time around, it took two seconds for Kon to pull out the charm. This was perfect. Tim proved he didn’t find him utterly repulsive, and now he could leave, and one day when Kon found out his real identity they could laugh about that time they sort of took a communications class together.
“Oh, gosh— we’ve got tons more on the itinerary,” Lisa rambled. “You haven’t seen the dining hall. We better get going.”
Superboy was the one with the heat vision, but Conner Kent’s gaze felt just as powerful. It was almost like stepping into an alternate reality, getting a chance to see a version of his best friend he’d never seen before. He wanted to learn everything about him. He wanted to know how the light caught on his glasses, and how his dorm looked, and what it felt like to walk down the street with him without the rest of the world staring.
“Actually, Lisa,” Tim said, “I think I’d rather just walk around alone. Get a feel for the campus. But thank you, so much, for your help. I’ll be sure to leave a good review.”
She said her goodbyes, then pulled Conner aside to whisper something. He laughed, which she didn’t like, then he whispered something that seemed reassuring. She left and then, they were alone in an empty lecture hall.
Kon swiped his backpack off the floor.
“I don’t know how committed you are to walking around alone, but if you want, I’d be happy to join you. I could show you something better than the dining hall.”
“Like what?” Tim asked, meeting his gaze.
This was the first time they were alone, without Kon knowing who he was.
A part of him wanted to break character, grab him by the shoulders and say it’s me. But another part of him wanted Kon to keep looking at him like that, like he was interested, and not just because he saved the day or stabbed a siren.
“It’s a surprise,” said Conner, like a challenge that Tim was happy to accept.
Conner took him to a hole in the wall restaurant called the Taco Stand. It was a tiny place, tucked between brick walls, and even the air seemed greasy. In the back, there was a courtyard with tables, string lights, and a lovely view of the street. By the time they sat down with their food, Tim realized this was a terrible idea.
“So, where are you from, Tim?” Kon asked, then took a big bite of his taco.
Suddenly, the flirtatiousness from earlier was gone. Kon sounded oddly polite. It felt like rejection, which was stupid. He wasn’t expecting this to be a date or anything— he didn’t even want it to be a date. He couldn’t date Conner Kent. That was a life-ruining disaster waiting to happen, once Kon knew the truth.
Tim had to tread lightly.
“Gotham,” he said, picking up his burrito but not biting it quite yet.
Kon’s eyebrows shot up, like he was soooo surprised. He swallow and wiped his mouth with his napkin.
“Cool,” he said, “Wait a minute… I thought you looked familiar… Are you—”
No. No way.
“— Dick Grayson’s brother?”
Tim dedicated hundreds of hours to perfecting his reflexes. Still. He set down his food so he didn’t accidentally strangle it.
“Yeah, I am,” Tim said, so chill. Downright pleasant.
“Wow,” said Kon, like an idiot. Then, an explanation. “I’ve seen his gymnastics stuff online. Very cool.”
Tim smiled, hoping none of his bitterness shone through.
“He’s really talented.”
“He is,” Conner was quick to agree. He leaned forward. “Do you think, maybe he would—”
“— he’s actually going through a really hard time right now.”
Conner’s eyebrows furrowed, a familiar expression even behind the glasses.
“He is?”
“Yeah,” Tim said, sympathetically. “He’s involved in some pretty messed up stuff.”
Conner’s expression shifted, and Tim backpedaled.
“Nothing illegal or anything like that. He cheats.”
“Like, on people?”
“Yeah,” said Tim, briskly. “He’s a cheater. Cheats on everyone. He even cheats on the people he’s cheating with. It’s a huge problem. I mean, I love him, but honestly, he’s just not a good guy.”
Conner looked over his shoulder, suddenly a million miles away. The feeling of victory fizzed like popped champagne. Tim took a bite of his burrito. It was delicious. Conner came back to Earth.
“Do you know who he’s dating now?”
Tim swallowed. It went down like lead.
“No.”
“I was just curious,” Conner said. He seemed nervous, like maybe he finally realized how little Tim wanted to talk about this.
“Whoever they are, I feel sorry for them,” said Tim.
“Yeah. Me too,” said Conner. It rang so sincere, it made Tim feel like he was missing something. He hated that feeling.
“You seem really interested in my brother,” said Tim. He spoke matter-of-factly.
“Oh,” Kon’s shoulders rose, “No. Not—” he forced his shoulders down and the charm was back. “I’m just, a fan. Are you a gymnast, too?”
“I trip over flat surfaces.”
Kon chuckled. “Guess it doesn’t run in the family.”
“I’m adopted.”
He let his annoyance show, but to his surprise, Kon didn’t awkwardly backtrack.
“I am, too,” he said, sincerely. “And your dad is Bruce Wayne, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Look. Just, tell me to fuck off if you don’t want to talk about this— but how crazy was it, getting adopted by a billionaire?”
Tim thought about the last five years of his life.
“Super crazy,” he said.
“You must meet celebrities all the time.”
“Yep.”
“Do you ever meet superheroes?”
Tim feigned enthusiasm. “Yeah. I was just at this big ceremony with Superman and his assistant Superboy.”
“Oh, really? Nice. Nice,” said Kon. Tim bit his burrito so he wouldn’t smile.
“What about Batman? You know, because all those rumors about him and Bruce Wayne. That they have a thing or something….Because Bruce Wayne donates a bunch of money to the Justice League….And I guess people think— because Bruce is kind of a— uh— I mean, he’s known to…. Are you just gonna let me keep talking?”
Tim was having a delightful time.
“You were on a roll.”
Kon chuckled, all this strange nervous energy. “Forget I asked. Please.”
“Done. But for the record, I don’t know and I don’t particularly want to find out.”
“No, yeah, that makes sense. Sorry. I swear, most people who go to M.U. are much smarter than me.”
“So, how’d you get in?”
“I didn’t. I just walk into classrooms and nobody says anything.”
Tim smiled, a familiar pull on his heartstrings. One of the first things he’d really liked about Kon was his sense of humor. Months before he admitted they were friends, he secretly thought he was funny.
Tim leaned forward. “Is that why we’re not eating in the dining hall?”
“Believe me, if you’re not sure about M.U. the dining hall will scare you off for good. But we can go back to campus. I did promise you an unofficial tour. If you’re up for it.”
“I’m up for anything,” Tim said.
Kon showed him the statue you can’t touch until you graduate, the printer that worked except when you needed it most, and finally, he led him through a door marked staff only.
They climbed several flights of stairs, with the promise of something amazing waiting at the top. Finally, they arrived at a door.
Tim pushed it open, and stepped onto the roof. The concrete surface had been transformed into a garden. The lush greenery looked especially beautiful against a gorgeous view of the river. The sky was a vibrant orange, and the twinkling lights of the city looked like stars desperate to jump into the sky.
“No one ever comes up here. Because we’re not allowed. I think it’s some biology professor’s project— but I’ve never seen anybody around.”
Tim took in the view. The wind was messing with his hair. He turned to Conner, and now at least his hair was blowing away from his face.
“Why do you come up here?”
Conner put his hands in his pockets, even though Tim knew he didn’t get cold.
“It’s quiet,” he said, so honestly, Tim expected him to follow it with a joke. He did. “And the smell of manure always reminds me of home. I’m from Kansas.”
“Is there a rooftop that smells like cigarettes and coffee?”
“Probably,” Kon smiled. “Or we can make one. Are you going to miss Gotham?”
“Parts of it.”
“Like your girlfriend or… boyfriend…”
He tried not to look too pleased, but the way his heart skipped a beat probably gave him away.
“No, actually. I was hoping to find one of those at college.”
Kon moved closer and Tim thought about closing the distance entirely.
“Then M.U. is definitely the place to be. What’s your type? Just so, you know, I can keep an eye out.”
This was definitely flirting. Stuff like this usually felt like a precarious tightrope walk, but with Kon, Robin had been walking this line for years. It never got any easier, the ground seeming farther away with every inside joke, movie night, fight, compromise, and bone crushing hug after a mission they almost didn’t survive.
But Tim and Conner— there was nothing to risk. They could kiss. Tim could finally know what it was like. And if Conner decided he wasn’t actually interested after all, he’d never have to see Tim again.
Until he found out. And Superboy was stubborn; he’d keep pushing for the truth. How much longer could the secret last? Tim could keep it forever, but how long until someone else slipped up? Or before Superboy got too impatient and went digging. He was smarter than people gave him credit for.
Tim walked over to the vegetables.
“I don’t really have a type,” Tim said to the tomatoes.
“Smart. Keep your options open,” Kon said, walking over to him. They both looked at the plants for a moment, before Kon turned to him and said, “Listen. You seem really cool, and funny, and well, you look like that— so you probably get asked out all the time. But I was wondering if I could give you my number?”
There it was. Definitive proof that Tim Drake was enough.
If he had one less iota of self-restraint, he would’ve kissed him right there.
Instead, flushed and happy, Tim heard himself say, “Sure.”
He handed over his phone and Kon texted himself.
Of course, nothing could actually come of this. But when Kon offered, Dick turn down his phone number. A petty part of him wanted Kon to have his. Even if “Tim Drake” never texted him back, he liked the idea of Kon thinking about him, hoping for a message, longing through a screen.
Walking down the stairs took no time at all. He was practically floating. He couldn’t stop smiling, lost in a daydream where Robin rips off his mask, and Superboy says I secretly hoped it was you.
The very next day, Robin nearly drove off the side of a cliff.
“Hey,” he said, shoving Kon away from him, eyes glued to the TV.
“Wins from cheating are invalid,” Cassie reminded, smashing her controller harder, as though that made a difference.
“I’m not trying to win,” Kon said.
“Oh, you’re trying to lose. That makes a lot more sense,” she said, with a smirk. Kon opened his mouth to reply, but he stopped short with an, “—oof” when Robin elbowed him, hard.
“No TTK, either. I’m in second, anyway. We should all be ganging up on Bart.”
“Try me,” Bart said, bouncing in his seat.
“Mario Kart is boring,” Kon complained. “Come on, Rob. Come with me to get snacks.”
“Yes!” Cassie cheered at something on screen, the same time that Tim groaned.
“Attack her,” Tim said.
“You can’t sic me on people,” Kon said, falling on top of him. Tim valiantly kept playing, even while Kon spoke from his lap, “Why do you like video games more than me? I’m just as fun. I have buttons. I have a stick.”
Tim snorted a laugh while Bart shook his head.
“You have no game,” Bart said, “On or off the switch.”
“I have game,” Kon protested. He tried to put an arm around Robin, but got shoved off the couch.
“He likes to be mean to me,” Kon explained to Bart. “That’s how he flirts. I’ve got plenty of game. I dated Cassie.”
“Briefly,” she said.
“You’re saying I have no game? How’d I get you then?”
Cassie narrowed her eyes.
“First of all, you didn’t get me, like a sandwich at the deli—”
“Oh my god, you know what I meant—”
“Wow,” Tim said with a bright grin. “And I thought you were bad at Mario Kart.”
“I’ll show you bad at Mario Kart,” Kon wrapped a hand around his ankle, and with the help of his TTK, pulled him onto the carpet. Tim tried to twist out of his grasp— still watching the TV, fighting for second place— but Kon grappled him until Tim dropped the controller and fought back. They rolled further from the TV, locked in a full-out wrestling match.
“Why does every other night end with them on the floor?” Bart said to Cassie.
“No game,” she replied.
One second Tim was straddling him, the next he was flipped onto his back, head gently cushioned by TTK. He took a second to appreciate the view, a triumphant Kon haloed by the lamp, but then he hooked his legs around him to escape.
Before he could complete the move, Kon leaned closer.
“Hi,” he said.
One stupid word and suddenly, escape was the last thing he wanted. The places where they touched became extra sensitive. The slightest shift of his leg started an entire forest fire, burning him up inside.
“Say it back,” said Kon, who always wanted more, more, more. No one ever really wanted more before. Tim was so used to trying to be less. When Kon looked at him like that, it warmed him up inside— not a fire, but a hand around a steaming cup of tea.
“Hi.”
Kon smiled and his gaze softened and for a second, Tim let himself be happy.
Bzz bzz. Bzz bzz.
It was his phone.
“I should get that,” he said and Kon sat up and floated off him.
His screen said: Nightwing. He went into the kitchen and took the call.
“What’s up?”
“What’s up is I just checked my voicemail. My Dick Grayson voicemail.”
He could tell from Dick’s tone that was he smiling sarcastically.
“And I got the most interesting message from Superboy!”
Tim forgot how to exhale. Dick continued.
“He wants to quote, meet up. I don’t even know how he got my number, but if B finds out Superboy is calling me, he’s gonna get involved with this mess, and nobody wants that—”
When did he get Dick’s number?
The rooftop garden. He’d given Conner his phone, without a second thought. He must’ve pulled up Dick’s contact and memorized it. That whole day— he’d actually thought— but no. He talked to Tim as a means to an end. He probably thought Tim was just a kid with a crush, one he could gently use to get who he really wanted.
“I’ll take care of it,” Tim said.
“Good. And can you find out how the hell he got my number, because—”
Tim hung up.
He looked at the door. He could feel his anger around his ears, like he was swimming in it. But what was there to say? Technically, they weren’t— anything. He didn’t owe him an apology. He could do whatever he wanted.
Tim grabbed popcorn and threw it in the microwave. He took a knee to find the right bowls, so busy rummaging around he didn’t even notice Kon float in.
“Need help with the snacks?” Kon asked.
Tim popped his head over the counter. “No.”
“I think you do,” Kon said, using his TTK to open the cabinets over the stove and float the right bowls down over to the table.
Tim yanked one out of the air and set it aggressively on the counter.
Kon’s feet hit the floor, as his eyebrows scrunched.
“Bad phone call?” He guessed.
“It was personal,” Tim said, dropping his shoulders. He visualized putting his feelings in a box, and then duct taping that box, and then dropkicking that box into a volcano. And suddenly he wasn’t just wearing his domino, but another type of mask. He smiled at his friend.
“But I’m fine,” he said. “Thanks for the bowls.”
“No prob, Rob,” he said, using his TTK to open the microwave, saving the popcorn before it burned to a crisp.
“Do you want extra salt?” Kon asked.
“Sure.”
“Cool.” Then asked, just as causally, “Do you want to go on a date?”
Tim’s smile dropped.
“What?”
“I just think— I kinda like you. You kinda like me. What are we waiting for?”
For a moment, Tim just stared.
“You don’t even know me,” Tim said, hollowly.
“Well, I know you a lot better than— some people,” he said. Tim noticed the weird pause, but his mind was already divided, a part of him wanting to shove him off the ledge and the other part wanting to pull him into a kiss and fall off together.
“I don’t think we should do anything until I tell you.”
“So tell me.”
“I can’t.”
Kon was more frustrated than he expected him to be, all the easy fun from earlier long gone. He scrubbed a hand over his mouth, then squared his shoulders.
“I know you. You can’t tell me I don’t. You’re my best friend. You have to know that. No one is ever gonna understand me like you. And you talk over movies and you hate the rain and I saved your life today. And you’ve saved mine, again and again. So, I’m sorry, but I don’t care about the name on your birth certificate. I don’t need to know that to know that I want you.” Kon studied his face, and he didn’t like what he saw. He took a step closer. “Why don’t you even want to try?”
Tim closed his eyes. The movement was lost behind the domino, anyway.
“Because it wouldn’t work,” he said. His tone was stretched thin, barely concealing a broken heart. Kon didn’t accept his answer.
“Just tell me if there’s someone else—”
Tim couldn’t hold back a bitter laugh.
“Yeah, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”
Kon’s eyes went wide.
“You’re talking about Dick Grayson,” he said, in a low voice.
There were a million things he wanted to say, but he took a second. He took a breath, before he said anything that might be incriminating. Now that knew how Kon really felt about Tim Drake— that he was nothing but someone to use— Kon could never, ever know his real identity. He’d maintain this cover until his dying breath, no matter how many people he might have to blackmail along the way. So, he had to choose his words very, very carefully.
“Yes. I am.”
“I— I was going to talk to you about it,” Kon said, hastily. “But—”
“There’s nothing to say.”
Kon’s eyes flashed with hurt. He swallowed, jaw tense. “I guess not.”
Tim knew he should walk away, but his anger was like an anchor.
“I can’t believe you called him. How could you be so stupid? This is why I can’t even trust you with my name.”
“He’s the one you can’t trust,” Kon shot back, “He’s cheating on you!”
Tim blinked. Everything he thought he knew shifted to the left.
“What?” He said, incredulous.
“That’s right. His brother told me.” Kon said, crossing his arms. “That’s why I called him in the first place. And by the way, I can’t believe you’d go for someone like Dick Grayson when his brother was right there. Way hotter— and he has a personality, Jesus—”
“Wait, wait, wait. I’m not dating Dick,” Tim said, so desperate to get that through his thick head, he couldn’t focus on anything else, “Why would you think that?”
“I heard you.”
The mind reeled.
“Heard what?”
“The other day.” Kon said, slightly self-conscious. “You weren’t answering my texts, so… Look, I wasn’t trying to uncover your identity. I just wanted to see if you were okay. And so I listened— and I heard you. You were on the roof of his house— or should I say, creepy castle. And I heard you talking to him and… well, I’m not an idiot.”
Tim pivoted, lost in thought. He remembered that night— Dick was benched. Sprained ankle. They were supposed to come back from patrol through the tunnels, but that night, Tim saw him sitting alone on the roof. Knew he was in a bad mood. So he climbed up there to talk to him, just for a second.
One mistake. One stupid slip up, and he exposed the secret he’d been keeping for a decade.
He looked back at Kon. But the secret wasn’t really out, was it? But— he couldn’t let Kon think—
“Dick and I are not together.”
Kon chewed his lip. “You told him to go to bed—”
“Our separate beds!”
“You have a bed at his house?” He said, like Tim was the idiot.
Tim took a deep breath.
“Kon. Take off my mask.”
“What? Why?” He tensed. “Is this a test?”
“It’s not a test,” he said, softly. “You’re… You’re my best friend, too. And you can’t tell anyone— especially Batman— but… I know you won’t. Just take it off.”
He thought he might use TTK, but he didn’t. His thumb brushed his cheek as he slowly peeled away the domino.
Kon inhaled sharply.
Tim Drake smiled back at him. He had black makeup rubbed around his eyes, but it just made them brighter. Kon stared, frozen in place, utterly thunderstruck.
“Oh my god,” he said, in a hush. “He’s your brother.”
“Yeah,” Tim confirmed. He stepped even closer. “Don’t call him again.”
“Tim,” he said. Then he smiled, like he was tasting it. “Tim.”
“Conner Kent.”
“Oh my god,” he said, eyes lighting up. “That was you! You were at my school. You were so into me.”
“Okay,” said Tim, looking away, “who asked for who’s number?”
Kon ignored his embarrassment, too busy joyfully putting the pieces together.
“Wait— did you go there just to see me?”
“I… wanted you to like me without the mask. When we first met, I thought you were into Dick.”
“What?” He made a face. “I just wanted him to break up with Robin! If you thought he was my type, I take it all back— you don’t know me at all—”
“Here’s some good news. I think I finally figured out my type,” said Tim, stepping closer.
“Is it me?”
Tim laughed, and then shifted into sincerity. “Yeah. It’s you.”
They stood there, smiling at each other. He tried to avoid getting his hopes up whenever possible, but at the moment they were sky high.
In the blink of an eye, Bart zoomed into the kitchen.
“I thought you were getting snacks—”
“Don’t look!” Kon screeched, tackling Tim behind the counter. “Bart! Get out of here!”
“Ahh!” Bart screamed, and slapped his hands over his eyes.
“It’s fine!” Tim said, shouting to be heard over the chaos. “Bart already knows.”
Kon stopped panicking, going still on top of Tim. Bart was still screaming.
“Bart,” Tim said.
He stopped screaming, and peeked through his hands. “Is someone naked?”
Tim rolled his eyes and shoved Kon off him, who rolled to the side.
“No. I just took my mask off.”
“Bart knew,” Kon said, voice dripping with betrayal.
“Dick told Wally,” Tim explained, offering hand and pulling him to his feet. “And you know how they are.”
“Wait— how the hell does Dick Grayson know Wally?”
Tim didn’t let go of his hand, and gently broke the news.
Kon’s jaw dropped. “Nightwing?! I— with Nightwing! Oh my god. I’m never gonna live this down. And Jesus, I knew Bruce Wayne was stupid— no offense— but how do you not know two of your own kids are superheroes?”
Bart shook his head. Tim took a kinder approach.
“Maybe you should sit down when I tell you this next part.”
“Thank you. Thank you,” said Mayor Marshall. He stood at his podium in a charcoal grey suit. With a gracious nod, he accepted the polite applause. Once it died down, he cleared his throat.
“Since its founding in 1838, Metropolis University has been an innovator in higher education. This shining example of an educational institution promotes interdisciplinary studies and draws the brightest minds from not just around the country, but around the world. One such transplant was unfortunately kidnapped and held for a hefty ransom last month. Luckily, as most of the world saw, this bright young scholar was rescued by Metropolis’ very own Superboy!”
The crowd applauded. Mayor Marshall extended a hand.
“Please join me in welcoming Metropolis University honor student, and son of Bruce Wayne, Timothy Drake—”
The crowd applauded, more feverishly than before. Tim stood from his table, acknowledging the applause with one hand, and made his way toward the stage.
“— and the hero behind the rescue mission— Superboy.”
The applause was thunderous and punctured with cheers. Superboy came out on stage, with a smile like a movie star as he greeted the crowd.
He turned toward Tim and extended a hand. The mayor rambled on.
“It’s good to see you again, Superboy,” said Tim. No one could hear them, but he was always paranoid about lip-readers. He kept up a perfect charade.
Kon was enjoying this a bit too much. They were still shaking hands.
“You too, Mr. Drake. Sleep well last night? You’ve got a certain glow.”
Tim let go of his hand, with a warning look. “That’s not—”
“— and a few words from Tim Drake,” the mayor concluded, stepping to the side. Tim tore his eyes away from Kon, hoping he wasn’t as pink as he felt, and stepped up to the podium.
He cleared his throat.
“Thank you, Mayor Marshall, for giving me an opportunity to thank this great city which has been my home this past semester. I want to thank my professors, for their invaluable guidance and my fellow students, who have welcomed me with open arms. I wouldn’t be here today at all without the love and support of my adoptive father, and my entire family.”
“That’s my boy!” Bruce shouted from the bar.
Tim smiled. He continued, “But of course, we’re all here today to celebrate the immense bravery of Superboy, who saved my life, along with countless others. I am eternally grateful.” He glanced back at Superboy, who was already looking at him. The look in his eyes made Tim’s heart skip a beat. He was glad. He hoped he heard it. “The world’s a better place with him around.”
The mayor led the audience in another round of applause. Superboy got his medal. The mayor smiled, standing between Tim and Superboy.
The picture was snapped.
Afterwards, people stood up to mingle and network. Tim stood in front of the cake, yet to be cut. Superboy appeared at his side.
“Mr. Drake, glad I caught you. I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t thank your boyfriend.”
“He’s the one who didn’t bother showing up.”
“Wow. That’s a shame, with you looking so pretty. If I was your boyfriend, I’d never leave you alone.”
Tim pretended to be annoyed. “Can I help you?”
“Yeah,” Kon smirked, checking him out. “I bet you can.”
Tim glared. “Last I heard, you were dating some vigilante from Gotham.”
“Robin, actually. But don’t worry about him, baby. We’re open.”