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Bernard was so regretting that decision to go to the gas station late at night. In his defense, the flat was running out of hot chocolate. Hot chocolate! There was no way he could survive the rest of winter without a cup of it.
Instead of hot chocolate, he was being mugged in an alleyway. Just his luck.
“Where's your wallet?” Yellow hissed as Red gripped his collar tighter, almost shaking him. Their names probably weren't Red and Yellow, but he'd started calling them that inside his head based on the color of their shirts.
They seemed to be only a few years older than Bernard was, which was new since he'd always thought that muggers tended to be middle aged men. Maybe they were college students that needed to repay student debt.
Their color combo of ketchup and mustard might've been funny in any other circumstance, but he could hardly focus on colors because Bernard had a gun to his head.
Yellow pressed the gun harder against him, messing up his hair and the thought of a single click ending his life in this alleyway of all places made it hard to breathe. He almost regretted leaving Children of Dionysus–dying a cool cult death would've been better than going down, as many people put it, Wayne-style.
His breath hitched. “Jacket. Front pocket.”
Red let go of his collar, and Bernard slumped a little as the guy reached for his pocket. Yellow elbowed Red, easing on the gun and he exhaled in quiet relief. “Just take the whole jacket. Looks like it's worth a shit ton.”
Oh, come on.
Unfortunately, it's not like he was wrong. It was one set of clothes that he'd brought from his house, which meant his parents bought it, which also meant that it was probably and unnecessarily expensive.
The cold air hit his skin as Red practically yanked the fabric off his body, and Bernard shivered as he swore in his head. Unlike that time with the cult, his boyfriend wasn't here to come to his rescue.
Because woah, Red Robin was Tim.
He’d found his boyfriend passed out and bleeding in his Robin suit a few months ago in their shared flat. At the time, he’d thought, aw man, I was wrong about him being a gang member, and, oh fuck my boyfriend’s dying on our couch.
It was supposed to be a quick run, out then in. A normal night to end a normal day. He should’ve known that nothing right would go down in Gotham. It was one of the reasons that Bernard suspected that Gotham secretly had dark powers that lured people in by her shadowy claws because why else would anyone–including himself–choose to live in this city.
It's not like he hasn't gotten robbed before. Heck, he'd even been in a hostage situation when he was younger. After all, despite not having a reputation of money like the Waynes or Kanes, his parents were still rich enough to get attention like that. Bernard had agreed with Tim on the phenomenon that every rich kid around their age had to have been in a hostage situation at least once up to that point.
He scrabbled as fingers grabbed at his hair and pulled. What the hell?
“He's kinda pretty, isn't he?” Yellow said. “Blonde and blue eyes, aye.”
Red looked him up and down, actually thinking over Yellow's words. Bernard didn't like the way they were looking at him. Made him feel like a piece of meat.
There was a click. Yellow was unbuckling his belt, and someone else was whimpering in fear.
It took Bernard a moment to realize that the terrified noise was coming from himself.
Red grabbed him by the shoulders, and before Bernard could even attempt to make a run for it, he slammed back into the wall. Except this time his face was pressed against it. Red–he could tell because Red was wearing gloves–reached down. Instead of maybe checking the pocket of his jeans for more money, he felt a groping sensation.
Suddenly, the gazes…no, leers from earlier made a lot more sense along with that comment.
“Wait–” Bernard choked out, cutting himself off as the gun started against his head again. This couldn't be happening, right? Not to him. This was a nightmare, it had to be–maybe he’d wake up in his boyfriend's arms if he just tried a little harder. He flinched as Yellow pushed him further against the wall, the two larger bodies crowding him up against it. He could still feel the cold steel of a gun against the backside of his head.
Two sets of hands were on him now, trailing under his clothes and caressing places they shouldn’t. A hand squeezed his thigh and bile built up in his throat. Bernard whimpered, closing his eyes as fingers reached around his zipper.
No, no, no.
Please, no.
He prayed that Tim would save him, that Red Robin would come to his daring rescue like so many times before, even if he knew it wouldn't happen. Tim was void of any vigilante duties tonight of all possible days.
“Help.” Bernard gasped, muffled against the hard brick of the wall in front of him. “Help, please.”
It was useless. There wasn't anyone to save him this time.
He was trying his fucking hardest to stop himself from breaking down into sobs but it wasn't going to work and he wanted Tim to hold him, hold him after they…they–
Bernard's not so sure of what happened after.
The next thing he knew, the touches stopped. And with it, came a whole lot of noises. He could feel himself shaking, whether it be from shock or coldness as the sounds continued. It sounded like…fighting?
What?
It wasn't until the rapid drum of his heart went down alongside the noises did Bernard finally gain the strength to turn around from his wall's safe place.
Holy shit.
The two guys were absolutely pummeled. A mess of black and blue, a limp pile at the bottom of the alleyway. His gaze moved upwards, and…oh.
“Are you okay?” Superboy asked him. He wasn't even in his get-up, wearing the same outfit that Bernard saw him in this afternoon when Tim invited his friends over.
He'd beaten them up in that leather jacket and Nirvana t-shirt, all while looking handsome and perfect. While Bernard was a rumpled mess.
Superboy, also known as Conner Kent. Or Kon?
Kon, who he'd conspired was Superboy after looking at pictures on Tim's phone and newspapers of Superboy halfway through dating Tim, had been sure of after finding out about Tim being Red Robin, then confirmed after meeting him in his Superboy get-up after stumbling in on Young Justice in the flat. Gods, was that a mouthful.
Even without knowing Superboy was Kon after first meeting him, Bernard could immediately tell right away that the guy didn't like him. It was evident by the angry, jealous cat vibes.
Kon had a crush on Tim. It was clear by the way his cheeks would pinken slightly whenever Tim was close-by, along with the very not-hidden hatred for Bernard’s relationship with him. For the Gods’ sake, his boyfriend was oblivious to the moon and back. Even from his own feelings. Tim would sometimes look at Kon with the exact same expression he looked at Bernard with. If Bernard was going to be honest, it kinda hurt.
He knew Tim would never cheat on him, but it made him feel kinda down when one of his favorite superheroes looked at Bernard like he wanted to laser him into the ground. But now Kon's usually constipated expression that he wore in front of Bernard didn't look so constipated. He looked worried. Worried, because Bernard had just been…he'd…
He couldn’t respond, any possible words dying in his throat. He felt so lame and pathetic right now. In front of his savior, Bernard couldn't help it–he curled against the wall and cried.
The lingering feeling of hands on his skin made him want to throw up. They'd been so close to taking his pants off. His cheeks were becoming wet now with every tear that dripped from his eyes.
“Oh shit, not okay. Fuck, I mean–it'll be fine, Bernard.” Kon was saying, sounding panicked. Great, now he was freaking Superboy out. “You're safe now, promise. I called Tim, see?”
Kon waved his phone nervously, and Bernard sniffled.
He took a few wobbly steps forward, another round of shivers enveloping his body now that he was in the open of the alley. Before he could react, a warm weight landed on his shoulders and in his hand. Bernard blinked, grabbing the fabric that was blocking out the cold and glancing down at his hand. He had his wallet back, but no jacket. Good. He wouldn't be able to look at it the same, reminding him of the smell of metal too much.
Huh. He looked at Kon, now devoid of his leather jacket. His leather jacket, which was actually really comfortable. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Kon continued to say something that Bernard didn't expect. “Mind if I carry you?”
“What?” He blinked.
“To Tim.” Kon clarified. “I uh, I understand if you don't want to be touched. I can find another way to–”
“You can touch me.” Bernard mumbled.
Kon stepped forward "Cool.”
The next thing he knew, Bernard was being picked up. It was an ever-so famous bridal carry, and Bernard knew the types of carrying thanks to days of looking at superbat fanart on twitter. Kon's arms are strong, muscles pronounced now that they're not hidden under his jacket.
Bernard heard a groan come from one of the men on the ground, and instinctively curled against Kon. Kon, who proceeded to swiftly kick the guy in the stomach with a furious glare. The pissed off expression was gone in a split second as he gave Bernard a comforting smile, before reaching into the pocket of his jeans and putting his Superboy sunglasses on.
“Police should be here soon.” Was the last thing that Kon said, before the ground wasn't…ground level anymore.
Bernard couldn't help the squeak that left him.
He was flying. Well, not himself. Kon was flying, but that was practically the same thing, wasn't it? Woah. He was Bernard Dowd and he was flying with Superboy while wearing Superboy’s jacket. This quite literally used to be one of his fantasies he'd had before dating Tim, and maybe a little bit during dating him. In the moment, looking at all these buildings from up above in the air, he could pretend like nothing bad just happened.
It wasn't until they finally reached the ground that Bernard realized that they were on the balcony of the apartment. What he does next is a mix of his blurry consciousness thanks to being up late, and an instinct from being carried by Tim like this so many times before.
In mute horror, he pulled back from Kon's face…who he'd just give a kiss on the cheek to. Bernard half-expected Kon to drop him on the floor and be done with.
Instead, Kon blushed. The same way he did around Tim.
…Huh.
Before he could say something, Bernard flinched as he heard a bang, only realizing it was the sound of the sliding door being rapidly opened.
"Bernard!" Tim panted, his black hair a mess and pajamas terribly wrinkled. Still looked like he came out of someone's dream.
"Tim." He managed weakly.
"Shit, babe." Tim murmured, pulling Bernard out of Kon's arms and into his. In his boyfriend's hold, Bernard melted as per usual.
And then, reality came crushing in and he started to cry again. Tim rubbed his back, and he let himself cry freely, because Kon and Tim were here to protect him.
He was safe.