Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I win.”

Tim looks up from his cards as Kon slaps down a draw 4, a smug smirk proudly displayed on his perfect face. His wet curls stick to his forehead, the scent of curl product engulfing the room, coconut wafting over to Tim from where he sits across the living room floor. 

“Winners pick what we watch tonight, and since the lucky winner is moi , I chose Star Trek.” Kon declares as he turns around to search for the remote between the couch cushions. 

“You can’t finish on a special card.” Tim grumbles, his eyes lingering a little too long when Kons shirt rises up with the stretch, showing a hint of skin and toned abs. He glances away before it could be considered staring, ignoring the burning sensation on his cheeks. He doesn’t know why he gets so flustered, he had seen Kon much more naked in the locker rooms before at Titans Tower. It's not like a slip of skin was any different. 

“Uh, yes you can.” Kon raises an eyebrow with a frown. “Since when?”

“I will pull up the uno rule book right now.” Tim retaliates. “We are not watching Star Trek again.”

“Oh, come on!” Kon throws his hands up in the air. “What’s your problem with Star Trek?”

“I didn’t have a problem. Until I moved in with you and now it’s everything I watch. It’s too much.”

“You can never, ever have too much Star Trek.” Kon insists, leaning forward seriously.

“You can, and I have.” Tim bites back. “There is only so much homoerotic pining I can tolerate, Kon.”

Kon mumbles something under his breath and gets up from the floor. “I have to pee. Do not think this is over.” He points a finger in Tims face before turning and walking away. Tim has to stop himself from watching him go, knowing where his eyes would land. Instead, he leans back on his palms, looking idly up at the roof. 

Tim moved to Metropolis for two reasons.

The first was obvious, Metropolis University had the best engineering course on the East Coast. Even though it meant he was moving to Gothams rival city, he would gladly do so for the second reason that was whistling “California Girls” as he walked down the hallway to the bathroom. 

Tim releases out a sigh as he hears the door click, letting gravity overtake him as he flops back onto the floor. He had been unsure about moving to Metropolis, startled when Bernard had asked him about it. 

They were lying together in the bed in his house boat, his hand idly tangling through those blond strands as he curled up into Tims chest. Bernard reached up, curling a hand around the back Tims neck and stroked the charred skin that rested there. 

He had always admired his scars, treating them as something he shouldn’t hide, encouraging Tim to cut his hair even though Tim knew the looks he’d get, the questions it’d raise about what had caused the back of Timothy Drake-Wayne’s neck to turn into a burnt, raw mess (He knew that Steph wouldn’t be able to look him in the eyes anymore, knew that the guilt would drown her and drive an even bigger wedge between them. He didn’t even want to think about Bruce’s reaction).

“What about Metropolis?” Bernard asked as his thumb rubbed circles on the back of his neck.

“What about it?” Tim asked, stifling a yawn with the hand that wasn’t in his boyfriend's hair. 

“University. Darla used to say that they had the best science programs.” His voice went quiet then as it always did when he talked about anything, or anyone , from high school. “Apparently their engineering course is good too.”

Tim hadn’t gone to college straight after he got his GED, opting to take a gap year while he wrapped up things with the Neon Knights program and transferred it to Tams control. Bernard had taken a gap year because he joined a pain cult.

“I thought you wanted to go to Gotham?” Tim frowned, his gaze drifting down to scan over that tan skin and meet his soft brown eyes. Bernard wanted to study nursing. He told him one night that he wanted to stop what happened to Darla from happening to anyone else. Tim didn’t tell Bernard that the bullet pierced her heart, that she died in his arms almost immediately. One pale hand squeezing his arm, a few gasping breaths, and she was gone. The CPR he performed for the next five minutes was a futile, pointless attempt to save someone long gone. 

“I want to go with you .” Bernard had whispered, leaning up to kiss Tims collarbone, then his jaw, before lingering on his lips. He tasted like honey and chamomile tea. 

A month later they broke up. Tim never cut his hair. 

Now, Tim feels his hair trail down his neck, overgrown and long enough to tie back into a short ponytail. He should probably cut it, but he just can’t find the effort to care. His eyes trail down the hallway to where he knew that Kon was in the bathroom. 

Kon. Beautiful, perfect Kon. To think that barely two years ago he lost him was a thought that was never going to leave the back of Tims mind. ( Green swirled around him in the basement under Titans Tower. He heard himself tell the machine to start again. He blamed his irrational behaviour on the loss of most of his friends in that time period. It wasn’t just Kon. It was Darla, Steph, his Dad, Dana, Bart. It was easier than that bigger weight sitting on his chest that told him exactly why he reacted like this, exactly why he felt this way about Kon . )

Tim hadn’t let himself think about why Kon was so important to him, he just always had been. Even in Young Justice where he got on his nerves all the time with his constant desire to piss Tim off, he knew that Kon was important and that he’d do anything for him. After losing him and getting him back, that idea was reinforced more importantly than before. 

“I was right!” A voice shouts from the hallway, followed by a gust of wind and Kon was suddenly standing over Tim. He shoves a phone in Tims face with glee, too close for Tim to actually see what’s in front of him. 

“No superspeed in the house, dude.” Tim frowns, taking the phone from Kon. 

“You’re just jealous that I have powers and you don’t.” Kon grumbles, flopping down on the floor next to Tim, sprawled out like a starfish. “What are you, my mom?”

“We already established you’re the mom friend, like, five years ago.” Tim rolls his eyes before looking at the screen. His brain freezes for a moment as he tries to comprehend what he was seeing. “Is this… the uno rulebook?”

“Yeah and look, you can finish on a wild card, including draw fours.” That smug smirk reappears on Kons face as he turns to look at Tim. His head was close, so close that their noses were almost brushing against each other with the movement. “Therefore, we are watching homoerotic pining tonight.”

Tim lets out a small groan, covering his eyes with his hands as if it would stop the torture he is about to go through. Kon just lets out a laugh, the sound soothing and light and making Tims heart skip a beat. 

“C’mon,” Kons voice is impossibly close and he feels hot breath tickling his ear. “Get up.”

Tim lifts his hands from his face so that he can shoot Kon an inquisitive look. “What will you do if I don’t?”

Kons plush, pink mouth shifts from a smirk to a way too familiar mischievous grin that always happened before he had a bad idea. Tim barely has time to register what’s happening when Kon scoops him up, tossing him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Tim lets out a yelp as he gets thrown down onto the couch, a heavy weight plopping down after him. 

“Hey– oomph !”

Kon looks up from where he has arranged them so that his head was resting against Tims chest, the rest of his body sprawled out over the couch as Tim leans against the armrest. Tim notes that he’s being physically held down to the couch, trapped under Kons warm weight, unable to escape the perils of watching Star Trek. 

“I will kill you.” Tim grumbles as Kon aims the remote at the TV, turning on the familiar opening tune. From this point of view, he can see how soft Kons hair looked and he feels the urge to trail his hand through them. Instead, he attempts to worm his hands under Kons solid back to cross them over his chest. 

Kon looks up through his long lashes and Tim freezes. His gaze is so genuine in his affection that Tim almost believes that he could have this. Almost. 

“You won’t. You love me.” Kon says, fully confident in his trust in Tim. Tim gives in and extracts his fingers from under Kons back, finally sinking them into those soft ringlets, brushing them back from Kons forehead. He’s only human, after all. The ringlets are still damp, but dry enough that Kon wouldn’t grumble about him messing up his curl pattern. 

“Yeah, I guess I do.” He admits with a soft sigh. 

Kon wriggles deeper into Tims chest and Tim wraps an arm around him. Kon just doesn’t know how deep that love runs and what type of love it was. Affection, adoration, devotion would all be closer than love and yet the words still couldn’t encompass the exact feeling. Would Kon still let him hug him like this, touch him like this if he knew? 

Instead of thinking about that, Tim tunes back into Spock on the screen and his funky eyebrows, rhythmically trailing his hands through those soft curls. He feels a blanket fall over them, Kons TTK tucking them in, and he bites back a small smile. 

He’d cherish these moments for as long as he could have them. 

***

“Tim!”

Tim looks up from his phone as he hears his name. The cafe next to the campus is littered with people and he leans against the wall waiting for his drink. His eyes meet the girl crossing the campus and although her hair is longer than the pixie cut she wore when they dated, she still had the same determined expression, the same pink phone case and zip up hoodie over flared leggings and chunky earrings. 

He straightens up, grinning as she approaches and looks him up and down. 

“Zoanne! God, I haven’t seen you since… since…” He starts, before trailing off awkwardly as memories from their last interaction wash over him. Right. They broke up, Ives joined their school, Steph shortly after, they almost got back together and then Tim had called her to tell her that it was over and then he ran off to almost get killed by Lady Shiva and then save Bruce from the time stream. 

That was two years ago. Now, she looked less pissed then he thought she would. But if he knew Zoanne as well as he used to, he knew that it didn’t mean that he was off the hook that easily. 

“Since you dumped me and fucked off out of nowhere?” She raises an inquisitive eyebrow and Tim just shrugs sheepishly. Her face turns more solemn and she leans in a little with a frown. “Seriously, Tim. If you hadn’t popped up in those magazines with Tam Fox I would’ve– look. You already got kidnapped in front of me. How was I supposed to know it hadn’t happened again or– or– or something worse?” 

Fuck. Tim forgot about that. He really had been a crappy friend to Zo, and probably an even crappier boyfriend. Her eyes stern, but still sympathetic in that way that she had always looked at him, like she couldn’t let herself ever get fully angry with him, like she knew way too much and yet so little. 

“We may not have been dating, but we were still friends .” Tim winces and she softens a little, patting his arm awkwardly. 

“I know, Zo. Trust me, I know. And I wasn’t...” 

How do you say your adoptive father ‘died’ but no one knew that he died because he was replaced by a cheap imposter in the public eye and you were the only one who knew that he was really alive? How do you say that your girlfriend had come back to life and then struck a deal with a guy that blew up a warehouse that you were in? How do you say that you broke your weird adoptive-brother-kinda-thing out of prison because you thought he deserved another chance and he ended up murdering a bunch of people? How do you say that your two best friends died and you went through five titans teams while leader and none of them stuck? How do you say that you kinda cheated on her with your dead-best-friend's-girlfriend and tried to stay in a relationship with her because you thought that if you didn’t, you’d turn into evil gun batman and try to kill everyone? How do you say you clung onto the one thing you had left, your mantle, and when that was taken away, you isolated yourself from everyone who loved you?

“I pushed everyone away, Zo. I was a dick to everyone and that doesn’t make what I did to you any less worse but it's true.” He lands on, running a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t going through the best time and it was easier to isolate myself than reach out. It was wrong, I know that, and I’m still shocked they decided to stick around. But Zo…” He reaches out, grabbing her hand and giving it a little squeeze. “I missed you. I still want to be friends. That is, if you want to. If you want me to fuck off and leave thats fine–”

“Dude, stop.” Zoanne laughs, squeezing his hand back gently. “If I hated you, I wouldn’t have come over to say hi.”

He hears the barista call his name, and he leaves briefly to shoot her a small grin as he picks up his coffee.

“What are you doing in Metropolis anyway?” Zoanne asks Tim as he takes a sip, wincing as the heat burns his tongue. 

“I could ask the same for you. Last I heard you had your heart set on Harvard?” He asks. She shrugs a little, tucking her hair behind her ear. 

“I’m not going to turn down a full ride because of prestigiousness. Besides– well– okay, promise you won’t laugh at me?” If Tim didn’t know Zoanne any better, he’d say she was blushing. “Okay, so literally the worlds best geneticist is working at S.T.A.R labs in Metropolis and they’re funding Metropolis University and there's an upcoming conference talk thing that she’s going to be at and… sorry, I’m rambling.”

“Don’t stop,” Tim grins at her. “I’m pretty sure my friend knows someone in the genetics field at S.T.A.R labs. Maybe I can get you two introduced?”

“Really?” Zoanne literally lights up like a lightbulb and Tim returns her enthusiastic grin. 

“I don’t see why not. Besides, he owes me.” Tim shrugs nonchalantly. The barista calls out Zoannes name and she leaves to get her own coffee before coming back, smiling at Tim eagerly. 

“This has been nice. I’m glad you're not dead or kidnapped. We should do this again sometime.”

“Like old times? You could tutor me again and I’ll try to hide my crush when you say I got something wrong.” 

She laughs, a bit too hard for his joke but okay. He probably deserved that, he wasn’t a great boyfriend or tutoree. He shrugs it off with a slightly awkward chuckle. 

“Oh yeah, by the way Tim. I’m a lesbian.”

Tim blinks awkwardly. Safe to say, he didn’t see that coming, although he is starting to see a pattern in his dating history with Steph and Cassie and now Zoanne… he wonders how Arianna’s going. 

“Good for you.” He says, a little awkwardly. He’d never been good at this, dealing with people coming out other than offering support in the form of understanding. “Uh, I’m bi. So,” But Zoanne just looked a little surprised. 

“Oh, I thought you– I thought you already came out in highschool. Everyone did.” Tim blanked. What? “Wait so you actually didn’t know when… oh this makes so much sense. Anyway, I have to go. It was nice to see you again, really. You still have my number?”

“Yeah.”

“Text me. We’ll hang out sometime.” Zoanne smiles as she walks off, leaving the coffee shop and making her way to the bus stop across the street. Huh. 

Tim takes another sip of his coffee, wincing as it was still too hot on his tongue as he leaves the coffee shop behind and continues his trek back to campus.

***

Tim is not moping. 

Just because he was staying wrapped in a bundle of blankets and barely leaving the apartment and watching Star Trek reruns on repeat didn’t mean that he was moping. Bart didn’t know what he was talking about. And Cassie should focus on her own problems instead of inserting herself into his. 

“You are moping.” Cassie says, throwing a handful of fries at him. She’s sprawled across his couch carelessly, her hoodie oversized and reaching halfway down her thighs. He thinks it might’ve been one of Kons from when they dated but he was unsure. Although she was taller, his broader shoulders and arms and… well everything made everyone drown in his clothes. 

Her hair is cut choppily into a pixie that he remembers from her bursting into the apartment at 3AM two weeks ago, crying because she ruined her hair and realised that she was a lesbian. Kon had handled the situation better than Tim did, sitting her down in the bathroom and reassuring her that she was okay, cleaning up the cut into something manageable and reassuring her that she hadn't had a mental break.

Tim… Tim had freaked out and gave her a chocolate bar. 

And then Kon and Cassie hung out in his room for a bit alone and when Tim checked in on them, Cassie had fallen asleep in Kons arms, peacefully, with her hair fanning out over his chest. He was smiling at her as he stroked her messy pixie cut back, not seeming to mind that she was drooling over his shirt, and Tim decided to leave them alone. 

The next day, Kon left for an emergency space trip with Clark. Which meant Tim had two weeks without Kon. Two very long weeks that he was definitely not moping about. 

“I’m not moping.” He grumbles, wrapping himself tighter in his blanket. “You weren’t even invited here. What are you doing?”

She raises an eyebrow at him before taking a bite into her burger. “You said I could come over any time.”

“Yeah but that was, like, gay solidarity. Not meant to be taken genuinely.” 

She pauses a little, like she wants to say something but she doesn’t. “You are moping though. Having Kon withdrawals?”

Tim snorts, leaning back against the couch away from her. If only she knew how true that was. “I am not.”

“Sure, Tim.” She takes another bite, sauce getting on her lips. They sit in a comfortable silence for a second before Tims reluctantly takes a handful of her fries. She grins like she’s achieved something, but all she’s achieved is making Tim hungry. 

“I miss Kon.” He admits after swallowing. Her grin deepens with success, dimples poking into her cheeks. 

“I know you do. But are you aware you have other friends? Like, this is gonna sound crazy, but me? And this is even more crazy but… Bart? Or get this, you could see your family?”

Tim frowns. He left Gotham for a reason. Two reasons. Three, if you included him also getting sick of the grime and slime and gloomy weather, not to mention the constant drama in his family. Metropolis just lifted a weight off of his shoulders, made him more relaxed and at ease, like there was less pressure to be one of the best. He’ll always go back, he always knew he would. But it was nice to have a break from the constant dramatics and daddy issues and mommy issues and relationship issues. There was always something new, some new problem, some new situation. Sometimes he just needed a break.

“Imma keep moping.” He curls further into his blanket. Cassie just sighs knowingly and stretches out. 

“Of course you are.” 

Tim dozes off on his couch surrounded by the stench of greasy fast food and the noises of Cassie typing on her phone. When he finally comes to, his apartment is cleaner and Cassie is absent, meaning she probably left a while ago. He checks the date. A week until Kon’s back. A week without him. 

He sighs and gets up, flicking through his texts with Kon before he had left the atmosphere on his way to the bathroom. 

I know this sucks but yk how it is. I’ll miss you

I wish you didn’t have to go.

Aww you do love me. 

I love you too, man.

Even now, looking at that final message made Tims heart flutter in his chest like a thousand butterflies. He knew what Kon meant wasn’t the same as what Tim felt but God, it was so good to imagine that for just a second Kon felt an inkling of what Tim did. 

Tim set his phone down, picking up a toothbrush to scrub away the feeling of fuzzy teeth in his mouth. But even without looking at his phone, Tim still found himself thinking back to Kon .

Sweet, kind, perfect Kon. Dorky but unbelievably nice. Heart of gold, always trying to save everyone no matter the cost. Stupidly self-sacrificing, never realising how bad life would be– how bad life was without him. 

He spits, rinsing his mouth out with a cool stream of water before picking up his phone again, Kons text staring back at him, taunting him with what will never be.

I love you too, man. 

Man, a platonic nickname usually used to signify close friendship. And that’s all there ever will be between them. 

A selfish, ridiculous part of Tim wondered what it would be like if Kon felt the same way, if there was some possibility of Kon even liking guys. He was always so adamant about his attraction to the opposite gender, even when they were kids that argued with poorly masked envy and wearing too big gloves, finding the opportunity to flirt with everything with boobs that he saw. It was hard for Tim to see him as anything but straight. 

Tim had shot down the idea of Kon liking him back before he realised just how deep he was in love with him. Before he realised that his feelings had long ago crossed the line of your average friendship. Before he even considered the idea that he himself wasn’t straight. 

But it couldn’t hurt to wonder.

Suddenly, Tims screen is replaced with a picture of Dicks up close nostrils as his ringtone echoes throughout the bathroom. Reluctantly, he answers, turning his brother on speaker as he leaves the bathroom and moves to his bedroom. 

“What do you want?”

“Hello to you too Timmy.” Tim can hear Dicks smirk over the phone, the sound of chatter in the background. He tosses the phone down on his unmade bed, opening his wardrobe to pull out fresh clothes that didn’t feel like distress and despair. “I heard you were a little down in the dumps–”

“Who told you?”

“That’s irrelevant–”

“No, it's very relevant. Was it Cassie? I bet it was. I’m right, aren’t I? Tell me I’m right.”

“Tim–”

“Am I right? That’s just like her, the little snitch.”

“ Tim. ” Tim scowls, but doesn’t continue, discarding his shirt to the pile of clothes already thrown about the floor. “Look, I have a case that I could use your help in.” Tim pauses, an invitation for Dick to elaborate. “A stakeout. Could be like old times.” Tim waits. Dick lets out a dramatic sigh, speaking his next words in a barely audible murmur. “We can take the Redbird.” 

Bingo.

“Okay, send me the details.” Tim can’t keep the grin out of his voice as he pulls on a pair of jeans and one of his old t-shirts. It's an oversized Green Day one that he remembers wearing on a trip to Paris with Dick when he was around fourteen. 

Looking at it brings back memories of when it was just them two. Cass was still wandering around cities, Steph didn’t know his identity, they didn’t even know Damian existed yet. It was them, Bruce and Babs, and occasionally Helena. He winces at the memory of that weird time where Dick and Helena were doing some weird hook up thing. He still remembers when he had broken into Helenas house only to find them half naked in her bed. Not fun. He wishes to burn it from his memories. Maybe he should ask Zatanna or Doctor Fate or he’ll even talk to Zachary again. He’d have to grovel a little first, he was sure of that, but maybe…

Dick was still talking, so Tim tunes back into the conversation. 

“I’ll pick you up at like eight tonight, okay?” 

“Why don’t I pick you up, since we’ll be taking the Redbird anyway.” Dick doesn’t quite stifle his groan well enough and Tim scowls, scooping up his phone to yell into the microphone. “Hey. Take that back.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“That my baby you're bitching about.”

“I didn’t–”

“No, I heard you–”

“It’s a car , Tim–”

“She’s a precious baby and I won’t have you–”

“An inanimate object–”

“She has feelings too–!”

There’s suddenly a crash from Dick’s end and his brother lets out a strangled gasp. Tim jolts up, alert, immediately switching into his vigilante mode. 

“Dick? What happened? Are you–”

“ Little fucker. ” Dick hisses under his breath amongst a string of other curses. “Yeah. Someone snuck in here and moved all my furniture, like, half an inch to the right. I’m stuck between Roy being pissed at me or Gar thinking he’s funny.”

It wasn’t either of them, considering that he just got a text from Cass asking whether or not Dick had fallen over yet. Tim bites back a grin as he messages a thumbs up back at her. “Definitely more of a Gar thing.” 

“Just how do I get him back…” Dick trails off as Tim types out a question asking for Cass’ motivations.

“Let me know when you figure out what you’re gonna do,” He pipes in, a smirk splayed across his lips. Honestly, Gar deserved it from the time he convinced Tim into letting Bart drive the batmobile. He still remembers Bruce’s bewildered face when he answered the call to find three distressed teenagers and one of their only forms of supervision in San Francisco upside down in one of his most prized possessions. “See you tonight?”

“Love you!” With that, he hangs up, Tims screen fading to a familiar black for a few seconds before lighting up with a text from Cass vaguely about something to do with Babs. Ah. 

When it came to Babs and Dick, Cass always fought tooth and nail for her mentor's honour. He still remembered when Cass witnessed her first breakup between the two and kicked Dick through a window on sight. Sure, other things were going on and she was a little drugged, but still, he hadn’t been able to contain his laughter when Dick had complained to him about bruised ribs. 

Cass is an all or nothing type of person, when she loves, she loves with every bone in her body. That’s something that Tim had in common with her, their loyalty. He wonders if that’s what made him fight so hard for her when she had supposedly betrayed them, what made him still believe in her when the odds were against her. Or maybe it was just because he didn’t want to lose anyone else.

Tim pockets his phone, pulling on his shoes and leaving the apartment. Thinking about that time made him also think about green basements and bad decisions. It just made him miss Kon all the more. 

He checks his phone again as he locks the door. One more week. 

Chapter Text

“I just don’t get it.” Tim declares, throwing his pen down on the table dramatically much to the librarian's dismay. Zoanne raises her eyebrow over her textbook, peering over to see what he was looking at. 

“You forgot to carry the four.” She points out, her nails tapping against the book gently. Tim groans, hanging his head in his hands. The librarians actually shush him this time, to which Tim just shrinks down in his seat. 

He looks up, meeting Zoannes amused eyes as she stiffles a laugh. “Not funny.”

“You are funny.” She insists, leaning forward to get eye level with him. “Y’know, there's this girl in my physics class and she’s really good. Like really good. Especially with explaining things. I told her she should be a teacher, but everytime I ask her what she’s going to do after uni she builds onto this weird story.”

Tim offers a tired smile, sitting up more. “Like what?”

“She told me she was a sorceress and her magic teacher told her that she needed to gain a basis in science to use magic properly.” Zoanne says, like it’s the craziest thing ever. To Tim, it doesn’t sound that otherworldly, especially after hanging around Ragman and the Shadowpact. “She gets even weirder if I ask anything about what she did before she got here. Like, she told me that she was the daughter of a mob boss who got murdered in a gang war and brought back to life. Like, how weird is that?”

Tim straightens up immediately. That wasn’t weird. That was eerily familiar. Way too familiar. “Is her name Darla? Darla Aquista?” Zoanne shakes her head slowly, a little perplexed. That’s right, she changed her name after she came back to life. If only he could remember…

“Her name is Laura.” Zoanne frowns.

“Fell?” She nods. Tim stands up, his chair scraping against the floorboards in a way that made the librarians hiss at him this time.

“Tim, what is this? Why are you acting weird again?” Zoanne frowns. Tim shakes his head, grabbing his stuff haphazardly and pushing it into his backpack. 

“I’ll tell you later, I promise Zo. We’ll do this again, okay? I’ll call you.” He strings out a few words before he hurries out of the library. 

What would Darla – Laura, fuck, – be doing in Metropolis? He had made sure she was safe with the Shadowpact, made sure that she would be okay and that Ragman didn’t take her soul or whatever he did to his victims. But after Blüdhaven was blown up and everything that happened with Kon and then Bart, he hadn’t checked up on her after the Shadowpact returned from their year trapped in time. 

Is he a bad friend? To be fair, she did cause his breakup with Steph and she also tried to kill him. And Kon. The attempted killing him part was okay, many of his friends had tried to do that before, but Kon? Maybe it was okay that he didn’t check up on her all the time. 

Tim hurries to his apartment, throwing open the door and immediately making his way to the secret compartment behind his wardrobe. With a few clicks, he was able to open it up, revealing his own Metropolis nest. It was shiny and gorgeous and like his one in the old Gotham theatre but better . Also, Redbird had her own area where she was hidden away from any other cars so that was good as well. He was still traumatised from that time when car-jackers stole the Batmobile. If he could stop that from happening to his baby, he would. 

He walks over to the computer, a beauty in itself but still nothing compared to Barbara's database, searching for Laura Fell. He takes a deep breath in anticipation and clicks on her file. 

There is a picture of Darla as he knew her, one from his camera roll. He can tell because it's been poorly cropped, the shoulder of his t-shirt still in the frame and Bernard's tanned hand hanging off her shoulder. She’s wearing one of her graphic t-shirts and low rise jeans, her hair pulled back into a messy bun. She always had dramatic makeup, wearing big eyeliner and brown lip liner every day to school. 

Most of all, she’s smiling. A genuine smile with dimples and all. He has to tear his eyes away from her face, so familiar yet so long ago. 

There’s another picture next to her, one that Tims never seen before. When Tim last saw Laura, she was falling apart, with greasy hair and a crazed look in her eyes. This photo… She looked happy. 

Her skin was a pale grey, her eyes a radioactive yellow. Her hair was silky and big and her voluminous curls could rival Starfires. Her arm was slung over the shoulders of a tall woman, a disgruntled look plain on her face, but there was a glimmer of affection in her eyes as she gazed down at Laura. The woman wears a long green gown, similar to the red jumpsuit and hooded cape that Laura wears. 

He scans the file with his eyes, skimming over the part with him in it. She was working with the Shadowpact under apprenticeship by the Enchantress, no small feat. She seemed to have made a name for herself in the magic world. 

There was an address at the bottom, a means by which to contact her team. Tim sighs, powering off his computer and moving to his suit. Seems like he’s going back to Gotham. 

***

“No.” Zachary turns away from Tim, adjusting the cuffs of his tuxedo. The bustling noise of the theatre drowned out the sound of Lady Gaga playing through the dressing room speakers. 

“Oh come on, Zach.” Tim complains, leaning forward, his chin resting on his hands. He sits on a plush purple couch on the opposite side of the room, the other boys top hat next to him. “I can’t get into the Oblivion bar without you. Please, you’ll be doing me a huge favour. From one ex-titan to another.”

“Please.” Zach snorts, fixing his eyeliner in the mirror. “You hated when I was there.”

“You know I didn’t.” Tim frowns. Zach turns to him, his eyes flashing with anger. 

“Everyone knows how you blew through, like, fifty teams in a year of being leader.” He snaps, his lips curling back with a snarl. “You were trying to replace your old friends, but no one fit. Aren’t they back now? Can’t you leave the rest of us alone?”

“Zach–” Tim starts, but Zachs not finished, crowding up in his space. 

“Everyone on that team went through shit, but you kept recruiting more. We were kids, man. Even when your best friends died, you didn’t take it as a sign to stop.” He hisses through gritted teeth. “Well guess what? Not everyone's best friends came back. Eddie’s still dead. He joined that team for you, and you treated him like shit. Everyone did. And he’s gone and– and–”

“Zach,” Tim trails off as the other boy turns away, hiding his red eyes.

There's an empty silence as Zach looks at himself in the mirror. When he speaks, it's quiet, barely more than a whisper. “You made me ruin my makeup.”

“I suck.” Tim admits, standing up from the couch and moving over to the dressing table. He leans against the vanity next to Zach, letting the other boy avert his gaze. “I know I was too harsh on Eddie. I know you have every right to hate me. I have so many regrets that I quit the team when I did.”

“Hey,” Zach says, looking Tim in the eye then. His makeup is a little smudged, but it still looks good. “Z said that everyone thought Batman died except you, and you brought him back. Also, didn’t your girlfriend come back to life or something? I feel like you get a free pass for that.”

Tim offers a tight lipped smile, looking at the wall across from him. There's a framed picture of Eddie in his Red Devil getup, bike shorts and all. Zach stands next to him, their arms thrown around each other's shoulders in a side-embrace, grinning like idiots. He lets out a low, resigned sigh. “I left Cassie to run a team by herself. Then Eddie got depowered and then the explosion… I can’t help but think if I was there…”

“You couldn't have done anything.” Zach admits. “I guess I’m just projecting. I just… I miss him. That’s all. And you mentioned the Oblivion Bar…” He takes a deep breath. “You left before Eddie told everyone. He made a deal with Neron, a devil. That’s how he got his powers. The catch was, if he lost his trust in his mentor, he’d belong to Neron on his 20th birthday. I told him where the Oblivion Bar was. He lost his trust in Blue Devil that same day.”

“You mean…”

“Yeah. If he wasn’t depowered, if he wasn’t dead , he’d be worse off anyway.” Zach smiles, a bittersweet thing. “It was his 20th birthday last Sunday.”

“Shit, Zach.” Tim lets his hand rest on the other's shoulder. There's a rapid knocking on the dressing room door. 

“Showtime in five!” A feminine voice yells out. 

“Then where's my tonic water, Bunny?” Zach yells back. Heels clipping against the floor fade away as Zach turns back to Tim, running a hand through his black hair. “Look, if I tell you how to get in, will you promise not to do something that can damn you to a life of eternal hell?”

“Sure, Zach.” Tim grins, straightening up. He pulls the top hat down on Zachs head, far enough to cover his eyes. Zach grumbles in retaliation, perfecting his looks before opening the door. 

“Don’t get yourself turned into a toad or anything, Robby.” He grins over his shoulder.

“I’ll try not to.” Tim smirks back. The door clicks shut behind Zach and suddenly the audience roars with cheers as Lady Gaga fades out. 

***

The Oblivion bar looks like a normal shady restaurant in downtown Gotham, if it weren’t for the suspicious people entering through the back alley door. Seriously, sorcerers and devils and witchy people of all sorts had no idea how to dress normally. The dramatic capes were a dead give away. 

Tim perches above them, watching them go in one by one. He’s still perched there when Babs hacks his comms. 

“You're in Gotham and you don’t even call?” 

Tim looks around for the security camera, finding one hiding behind a neon bright sign advertising for a karaoke bar. He offers it a small wave. “Sorry, Oracle.” 

“We tend to leave the magic stuff alone, y’know. Or send someone with experience.” She says, and he can practically hear her question. Tim shrugs, eyes back on the people. 

“Seriously? Who has experience with magic in our circle?”

“Jason has magic swords.”

“What?” Tim blanks at hearing that, shaking his head as he sees a familiar face duck into the bar. “Look, I gotta go. It’s nothing serious.” He clarifies as he jumps off the building, following a group of witches into the bar. “Just checking in on an old friend.”

“Tim–” He turns off the comm. 

Upon entering, the landscape is lively, with people fluttering around, most not human. He makes his way to the bartender at the front, a man with… flipper limbs. Huh. 

The man looks him up and down, his backwards cap sitting low on his blonde hair. “Dude. No bats. Besides, I doubt you're twenty one. You look seventeen.”

Tim just sits on a barstool and leans forward. “I’m not here for a drink. Have you seen Rory– uh. Ragman?”

The man raises an eyebrow. “Who’s asking?”

“Former boy wonder.” A smooth voice says. Tim turns around to find Ragman standing there, his mask and hood discarded but otherwise in his uniform. A smile is spread across his face, along with a purplish bruise on his jaw. “What do you go by now? Red Robin, right?”

“The fast food chain?” A woman slips in next to him, her face convoluted into a scowl. Tim recognises her from the picture with Laura. “Not very original, are you.”

Ragman rolls his eyes and turns away from the woman. “Ignore June. She doesn’t like anyone's names.”

“Not my fault I’m stuck hanging out with people like Raggedy Ann over here. Or what about Detective Chimp? A monkey who’s a detective. Or get this. Blue Devil. You’ll never guess what he is. Originality is dead .” Tim ignores the sinking feeling in his chest at the mention of the guy after what he did to Eddie. 

Even before he talked to Zach, Blue Devil had stood up Eddie, been cruel and dismissive way too many times for Tim to like him. He understood it was easy to snap at Eddie, God knows he did himself, but Eddie always took it in stride. Probably because he was so used to being walked all over by others.

“Now you’ve got her started, she won’t stop.” Rory sighs, slumping into a barstool on the opposite side. 

“What about Warlock's Daughter? Laura Fell?” At that, June groans, slumping forward in her seat and resting her head on her hands. 

“I hate that kid.” She mumbles.

“No, you don’t.” Rory insists, turning back to Tim. “She was your friend from Blüdhaven, right?”

“ You did this to me?” June hisses. Tim wonders if he’ll break Zach’s promise of not turning into a frog sooner rather than later. “I’m a babysitter . 24/7. And worse, she grows on you. Like a fungus.”

“What do you want with her?” Rory asks. June sits up, pointing a finger at Tim in the face. 

“You better not hurt her, that’s my apprentice.” She scowls, before turning away. “Or do. I don’t care.”

Something clicks in Tims head and he looks June up and down. “Wait, you’re the Enchantress?” 

June just gives him a shrug as she downs three consecutive shots. Rory is looking at her with something mixed between awe and adoration, which is a little fucked up but okay.

“Look, Laura’s my friend. Or was my friend. I just want to see how she’s going.”

“Yeah, I don’t really trust college boys around her. She tends to have bad taste.” June speaks as she leans over the bar to pour herself another shot, much to the bartender's annoyance.

“That was your fault.” A familiar yet somehow completely different voice sounded from behind them. Tim turns around. 

Darla grins back. 

At least, she looks like how Darla would if she had never died, no trace of the ghostly pale skin, no neon yellow eyes. She even wore a similar low rise jeans and graphic t-shirt in lime green, lips lined and eyeliner and all.

“Robin?” She asks, cocking her head in confusion. Tims words get lodged in his throat, which June seems to take as an invitation to fill the silence. 

“It's Burger King now.” 

“Rook.” He manages to say. “Is there somewhere we can talk in private?”

“No,” Enchantress stands up, her barstool scraping against the floorboards. “Anything you have to say to her, you can say in front of us.”

“June, really.” Laura says, rolling her eyes dismissively. “He’s not gonna possess me and take me into his army of female sorceresses. That was once.” Which was just… what? She grabs Tims arm and pulls him through the back rooms of the pocket dimension. Tim peeks in a room as they move past. 

Detective chimp is in one room talking to– to Titus? And Krypto? Tim shakes his head as he gets dragged past, making a mental note to ask Damian or Kon or someone about that later. 

He finds himself in a room that mimics the likes of his teenage girlfriends. Posters on the walls of various bands, textbooks on physics, biology, and chemistry thrown about the desk, piles of clothes on the ground. She even had a signed poster of Superboy on the wall from his days of being a child star, leather jacket and glasses and all. 

“Yeah, my dad hadn’t taken anything down before… well. Anyway, I broke back into my old house and I was able to steal this bad boy back.” Laura grins, flopping down on her bed. “Probably worth a lot now. Was worth more when he died, though.” Tim masks his wince masterfully, turning back to her. She swings her legs idly as they just stare at each other for a bit. “Why are you here, Robin?”

“I’m proud of you.” He blurts out. Her eyes widened in surprise. “I should’ve checked up on how you were going when you got out of the prison, but… Well, I’m here now. You’ve really turned your life around.”

Laura averts her gaze, staring at a stray sock lying near her rubbish bin. “It’s because of you.” She says after a pause. “If you hadn’t taken a chance on me, I would’ve never been able to do as much. I still need to apologise to so many people I hurt, like the other Robin I attacked or Bernard or Tim. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

Tim sits down next to her. She still doesn’t look at him, focussing on the stray sock. “Sure, I gave you the chance. But you’ve left a real impact. You’ve saved countless lives and Enchantress said that your control on your powers has increased so much you may even rival hers one day.”

“She said that?” Laura blinks. 

“Well, she wrote it in the file on you. Trust me, Laura. You’re a good person.” 

She looks at him then, her eyes turning from a dark brown to a bright yellow. Even so, they showed so much expression in them. Tim suddenly decided what to do. 

He grabs her writing pad and a pen, scrawling down two phone numbers.

“What–”

“Tim Drake and Bernard Dowd’s phone numbers.” He answers, pressing it into her hands. “They will want to see you, trust me.” 

“You’ve talked to Tim?” She blinks those big yellow eyes. 

“You can talk to him yourself. He goes to Met U. Friends with Zoanne Wilkins in your physics class.”

“How do you–”

“Just trust me, okay?”

She pauses, before her hands tighten around the notepad, nodding in affirmation. 

“Thanks, Robin. Shit , Rook.” She swears under her breath. “I know I tried to kill you before so this means a lot.”

“You also saved my life.” She ducks her head, hiding behind one of the bombshell curls on her head. “You’ll do great, don’t worry.”

When he leaves the club, he hears Babs sigh in his ear. “Well that was a waste of my time.” Tim frowns, looking up at the security camera. 

“I told you what I was doing.” He grapples up out of the alleyway, onto another roof. She just sighs again. “Why were you eavesdropping? I don’t like that you don’t respect my boundaries.”

“When you're in Gotham, your free game.” He can practically hear her smirk. “Are you sure about Bernard?”

“How much did you hear?”

“Enough.” She frowns. “You ended on weird terms, Tim. I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

“You’re one to talk about messy relationships.” Tim frowns as he swings to the next building. “How many times have you broken up with Dick?”

“This is different. It's a civilian. A civilian who knows your identity.” 

“I’ve broken up with civilians before, Babs, and so far none have come back to haunt me. And the identity thing? You know about Tam.”

“She’s a Fox, Tim. It’s a little different with them.” He can hear Babs’ disapproving frown.

“Look,” He says as he lands on one rooftop, perching over a dark street. There's barely anyone out aside from a few street kids scurrying along the ground. “I’m not gonna get back with Bernard.”

“You said the same thing about Steph,” Babs points out, something sour in her voice. Tim resists the urge to roll his eyes. 

“Believe it or not, Bernard and Steph are two different people.” 

“ Ha ha. ” 

“I should hope we are.” This voice came from eerily close behind him, causing Tim to jump out of his skin and almost fall off the building. A strong hand encased around his wrist pulled him back up. “Or I’m gonna have to let you fall because we broke up three times.”

Batgirl stood there, her black and purple suit leaving only her blonde ponytail and confident grin. Tim straightened up, pulling himself to his full height. If he slouched and she wore the elevated soles of her boots that she refused to admit were heels, she was taller than him by a whole inch and Tims ego couldn’t take the hit right now. 

“Why are you talking about me behind my back?” Steph accuses him, leaning in with an arrogant smirk. 

Tim steps back, his hands raised in surrender. “Babs started it.” Conveniently, Babs had also left his comms as soon as Steph appeared. He didn’t know if they were in another argument or if the previous Batgirl was just busy. He hopes it was the latter, he doesn’t have enough energy to put up with all the arguments and perils of Gothams vigilantes.

“Sure.” She sounds skeptical, but the twinkle in her blue eyes showed that she wasn’t taking it personally. Steph slumps down next to him on the roof, watching the little street kids run around in circles. They shouldn’t be playing outside this late at night, but Tim doesn’t have the heart to break it up, the joy on their faces is enough to light up the whole street.

“Well, Timmers . What are you doing in Gotham? Thought you up and left because you were too good for us.” He frowned at the name slip and she just rolled his eyes back. “Oh, please. Like you didn’t yell out my identity in the field every time we went out as Robin and Spoiler. Also, like, three seconds ago.”

Tim smirks back at her, before letting his eyes avert her gaze. It was easier not to look too hard, not to focus too much on what could’ve been before them if he never quit Robin, if she hadn’t taken up the mantle without Bruce’s full trust, if Bruce had actually communicated with her, if she never ‘died’, if she never went behind his back with Uylesses. There was too much history between them for some part of him to ever be able to stop loving her. “I could never think I was better than you, Steph.” 

She lets out a snort of laughter, tipping her head back casually. “I always had the better ass.”

“And hair.”

“And charming personality.”

“I had better jokes, though.” 

“In your dreams, boy wonder.” She elbows him in the ribs, gently enough so it didn’t hurt. He smirks back at her. It was so easy to fall back into old habits with her, racing through rooftops, saving each other from peril, late night talks that faded into the early hours of the morning.

“But seriously,” she says, her posture straightening in the little way it did when she was trying to seem more mature, more responsible. She pulls it off now, the balance between the jokes and the responsibility. “Why’d you come back?”

“Kons in space.” He can’t help the frown that forms on his face. He doesn’t pay any attention to her trying to fight off a knowing smile, choosing to ignore it instead. “And… and I wanted to check in on a few friends.” She waits patiently for him to continue and he realises that there’s no way out of avoiding mentioning Darla. 

“Okay. I had a friend at school, Darla Aquista. She died right before you did.” Steph nods solemnly. He didn’t mention that she was the girl who Steph had seen kissing him. He didn’t mention that she was the daughter of a mob boss. He didn’t mention how she died because of Steph’s actions. She didn’t need the guilt. “Remember Johnny Warlock?”

Stephs hand subconsciously trails down to her knee, right where her bone was shattered in the fight. Sometimes Tim hears the sound it made as it shattered at night, sometimes he hears the sound of his own fists ripping through Johnny's body and the final cry that left his lips, sometimes he hears the bystanders saying that it was over, that he killed him. He blinks back the memory, focussing instead on Steph now. 

“The one you…?”

“Yeah. I thought I killed him but he didn’t die. He came back and he brought Darla back from the dead with him and used her to try to kill me in Blüdhaven.” She makes a sympathetic sound, her hand resting on his shoulder. “We freed her from Johnny– me and the Shadowpact, that is. And now she works with them. She’s really turned her life around. I just wanted to check up on her, see how she is.”

“And she’s…”

“She’s really good.” Tim grins up at her, a genuine one. She smiles back, before gazing back down at the kids.

“I’m glad you're here, Tim.” Steph speaks low, slowly, but with a kind look in her eyes. 

“Me too.” 

There was so much history between the two of them, so much that everytime he looked at her he would remember all the good moments and the bad. For every rooftop chase and adoring nickname, there was a warehouse explosion, a deal with a deranged general, an argument where he would hurt her (‘ Don’t let me catch you wearing that costume ever again.’ ) or she would hurt him (‘ He asked me – ordered me – to make sure you got better, stronger, independent, able to handle more.’ ). And still, he would always love her. She’s like a drug, impossible to unhook from, addictive, something he would always fall back on. But he could acknowledge that the love he felt for her was different, deeper, rawer, but not necessarily romantic anymore, those feelings long gone and replaced with something truer.

A shout from below tears Tims attention from his thoughts. A man approached the street kids, a knife extended towards them. Immediately, Steph stands, pulling Tim to his feet as well. She extends her grapple gun, shooting him a cocky smile as she aims. 

“Just like old times?” The line flies from her gun, attaching to the lamppost. Tim grins back, as more men emerged, readying himself to jump down. 

“Just like old times.”

Chapter Text

It was the early hours of the morning when Tim climbed back through the window of his apartment, scaling from the outside. He immediately stripped out of his suit, rolling it up and stuffing it in the washing machine before heading to the shower and letting the sweat and grime of the night wash off him and down the drain. 

The hot water soothes his sore muscles as he lets a sigh of relief leave his mouth. The business of the night, from seeing Zach and Laura and Steph, left him without time to think about Kon. But seeing Kon’s fifty bottles of curl shampoo and conditioner and body wash and exfoliator made his thoughts trail back to him. 

He was in space. Did they even have showers in space? He was supposed to come back last night, but with their line of work it was always give or take a week between the approximate day. That means that Tim could see him in the next five minutes or five days. 

He sighs, shoving away Kons various products and reaching for his 5 in 1 to scrub his hair clean. The only good thing about no Kon was that he could put his hair product (singular) in the shower instead of hiding it in the cabinets away from Kons unsuspecting sight. He couldn’t help that it was more efficient, and Kon has known Tim long enough to know that he has and always will be a sucker for efficiency. It was just in his nature.

When he finishes, he reluctantly turns the water off and grabs a towel to dry himself off enough before wrapping it around his waist to go to his room. His hair was still a soaking mess, trailing down his neck in a way that made him feel every drop on his skin. He passes through the hallway, opening his door and grabbing clothes from his drawer, letting the towel drop from his hips. He manages to pull on a pair of boxer shorts before he hears his door get flung open.

Immediately, Tim grabs for the nearest object to hurl at the intruder, his body instantly shifting into a defensive stance. The object in question was Cass’ hairbrush that she left at her last visit, a sparkly, hot pink, plastic thing tangled with thick black hair. 

It hits the S shield on a broad chest and immediately clatters to the ground. Surprisingly, the intruder wasn’t intimidated by the hairbrush attack. Tim’s eyes trail up from the chest to a familiar face, sharp jaw and brunette curls that were almost too long. Unnaturally, electric blue eyes met his own, crinkling up at the corners with the bright grin on his lips. A face he’d never forget, a face that Tim would always love.

Tim launches himself across the room, tackling Kon with a hug. The other boy lands on the ground with a loud oomph , followed by a trickle of earnest laughter.

“Did you miss me?” He grins. 

Tim looks up from where his face is buried in the little nook where his neck meets his shoulder and raises a questioning eyebrow. He attempts a scowl, but the effect is ruined by the fact that he’s clearly holding back a smile. “No, I just like tackling people. What do you think?”

Kon ruffles Tims wet hair, water spraying his blue and red uniform. It’s dirty and Tim just showered and Tim can smell the sweat on Kon but he can’t find it in him to care because it’s Kon.  

Kons eyes flitter down briefly Tims torso and dart back up immediately to his eyes, his cheeks darkening a little. Tim stares back, confused, before he realises that he’s basically straddling Kons hips while being almost completely naked. He feels his own face burn up as he sits there, his brain flat screening for a moment before scrambling off of Kon and onto his feet.

He offers a hand to help Kon up, turning around to avoid Kons eyes on him under the guise of walking to his dresser to pull on a shirt. He turns back around once he pulls his faded old Oasis t-shirt over his head, watching as Kon blinks and looks up from his torso to his face. 

He feels a sinking feeling in his stomach, painfully aware of where he knows Kons eyes were. His body isn’t pretty or perfect, coated in scars and bruises. He knows the messy stitches on his back and abdomen from where he was impaled, he knows the bullet scar just below his ribs, he knows all the markings he has gotten from over his years of vigilantism. 

He sees something unreadable in Kons eyes for a split second before it flickers away, replaced by a joking grimace as he inhales. 

“Ugh, I feel so gross. I’m gonna take a shower, you can order tonight.” Kon smirks, making his way out of the bedroom. 

“Hey,” Tim says, latching onto his wrist before he leaves, pulling Kon back in. He looks into those bright blue eyes, giving him an earnest smile, dropping his hand. “I’m really happy you’re home.”

Kon beams back, grabbing his palm as it falls and giving it a squeeze. “I know.”

He hears the shower run as he orders pizza from the place down the street, tensing as he hears a shout from the bathroom from Kon.

“Five in one?!”

Tim smirks, letting the tension leave his shoulders to the sounds of Kons loud curses drowned out with the sound of water releasing from the showerhead. By the time he comes back into the living room, smelling of curl cream and dressed in a simple compression shirt and sweatpants that left nothing to the imagination, the pizza guy has arrived. Tim collects the pizzas, tipping generously, and dumps the food down on the coffee table. There were three pizzas, one extra cheese, one pepperoni, and one half hawaiian and half canadian bacon and artichoke hearts. Kon turns up his nose as he plunks down on the floor instead of the couch. 

“I don’t know how you eat that shit.” He leans over, grabbing a piece of hawaiian before folding it in half and downing it in two bites. 

“I don’t know how you can have pineapple on pizza, it’s revolting.” Tim takes a piece of his beloved canadian bacon and ravishes it, watching as Kon downs three before he can finish one. Sauce is dripping off his lip and Tim resists the urge to lean over and lick it off. “Uh, you’ve got something here–” He taps his mouth. Kon swipes but misses. When Tim shakes his head, he tries again. “No, no. Still there. Still there. How do you not feel– right here. Kon. Look at me. Conner. Here– no. Just let me–”

Tim leans over before thinking, swiping his thumb across Kons bottom lip, the rest of his hand cupping Kons cheek. Kons eyes widen and he can feel his breath against his thumb come out hot and shaky and– Tim freezes, realising what he must look like. God , he’s so stupid. Kon’s done nothing but be perfect and Tims just gone and made him stupid, pointless crush his problem.

This– combined with the tackle before– must make Kon feel like Tim is coming onto him or something. Leave it to Tim to fall for his straight best friend and make everything awkward and uncomfortable. Tim leans back, grabbing a handful of napkins to get rid of the evidence of Kons lips on his fingertips. Napkins. He could’ve at least grabbed them before he leaned over and made himself the creepy queer best friend coming onto the straight guy.

Kon makes a weird noise before clearing his throat and shuffling a little in his spot. He picks up a piece of extra cheese, looking at it instead of Tims face. Tim just wanted him to look at him and maybe then he would see if he fucked everything up, if something was wrong. “So… what’d you do without me?” Kon turns back to Tim, a bright smile like nothing ever happened. Tim wonders if the tight feeling in his chest was relief or disappointment. “I know, you were practically jumping with joy about not having to watch Star Trek.”

Tim frowns around his next slice of pizza. How could he ever be happy about not being around Kon? Besides… “I kinda… watched Star Trek without you.”

“What?!” Kon snaps and suddenly he is in Tims space, staring very angrily down his nose at the other boy. “Dude. You could not have betrayed me more.”

“Just the episodes that we’ve already watched! You’ve already got it all downloaded in your brain anyway.”

“I can’t believe you, can’t even trust my best friend.” Kon shakes his head sorrowfully. 

Tim just nudges Kons ribs with his foot. When he gets no response aside from mutters of betrayal and revenge, he creeps his toes up until they are under Kons nose. Kon reacted then, grabbing Tims foot and suddenly he was on his back, being dragged forwards until Kons head was positioned right above his. He wrinkles his nose at Tim, but his eyes betray him, creasing upwards around the corners. That, and the smile spread broad across his face is also a dead giveaway.

“You’re a gross little freak, you know that right?” Kon asks, no malice around the question. Instead, he looks at Tim with pure and utter affection.

Kon has always been so blatant in his emotions, his heart worn on his sleeve. He has always been easy to read, never even seeing the point in secrets until he had one of his own. He remembers once during Young Justice while they were in that weird period where Kon lost his powers, before they met Lil' Lobo and knew Anita's identity, he had walked into the bathroom at the rundown hotel they called their base to find Kon grumbling as he tried to get rainbow paint out of his hair from a Bart attack. 

In the midst of helping scrub it out, they had started talking about secret identities. 

“I trust you guys with my life every day,” Kon had said, looking up at Tim through his lashes as his hands massaged his scalp. “Why would I bother to hide who I am? If I want you to know me, I want you to know all of me.”

Tim had hummed in response. Of course, at this time, Kon hadn’t even had a secret identity to fall back on, had been living with Cadmus and just gotten a Kryptonian name. But Tim had always agreed with him. 

Hiding his identity was what he had to do, not what he wanted to do. The hours he spent slowly chipping away at Bruce just to let him show his face were countless. It was only natural that by living a half life in both Young Justice and his home life, he would hide his emotions away as well. Maybe a part of it had started back then, maybe it sparked from hearing his dad casually complain about the fags that were ruining society over breakfast, like it wasn’t a big deal.

It had taken enough out of Tim to come out to his friends. It would take more to constantly show his emotions as freely as Kon does.

“I know,” he responds with a smirk, kneeing Kon and flipping them in one move so that Tim was looming over him instead. He leans back immediately, helping Kon sit up. He wasn’t going fuck things up as much as he already had with more long, tense, moments followed by awkward silences. 

Something flashes over Kons face as he gets off him, too quick for Tim to make out, before his face is contorted into a frown, his eyebrows scrunched up and facing downwards. The shift is immediate and Tim can instantly tell something’s not right. He leans in, his hand resting on his shoulder with concern. 

“Hey,” He says as Kon averts his gaze. Fuck. He overstepped, he did something wrong, he fucked up and Kon knew how he felt and he hated him. He was going to lose the one good thing that happened in his life and– no. Tim needed to just calm down. This wasn’t about him. His other hand trails up to grab Kons jaw and gently coax him to look at Tim. “What’s wrong?” Kon glances at him before darting his eyes away. “Did I–”

“No!” Kon snaps his gaze back to Tim earnestly, his TTK latching onto Tim, grasping the nearest thing for security. “No, no. You did nothing. You’re–God, Tim– you’re amazing, I don’t– I can’t–”

“Conner?” Tim finds his fingers caressing Kons cheek as his eyes cloud over. He moves forward– to hell with his overthinking brain, this was not weird– practically climbing into his lap. He feels the TTK hold grow stronger despite Kons hands remaining planted firmly on the ground. “You can tell me anything, you know that right? I love you, man.” He hopes the man will platonify his words. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just emotional.” Kon says, leaning into Tims palm, his electric eyes meeting his own and God. He looked like a kicked puppy, so open, so vulnerable and Tim had never felt his heart hurt so much. He feels something dark twist in his head. Whoever did this to Kon was going to have to pay .

“We don’t have to talk about it, Kon.” He speaks low and soothingly, letting his hand on Kon’s bicep grip a little firmer, offering him support in the only way he could. Kon just shakes his head, wiping his tears away with a hand. 

“No, I need to say this. I can– I can do this.” Kon insists, like he’s hyping himself up. “Okay, okay. When I was off the planet, I was in space.” He snorts, shaking his head. “Sorry, that was dumb.”

“No,” Tim smiles gently, his hand still caressing Kons cheek in what he hoped was a soothing effort. Considering Kon kept leaning into his touch, he supposed it was. “Don’t apologise.”

“Well, obviously. I mean, where else would I be?” Kon chuckles lowly, before sobering up a little and leaning away from Tims hand. “I guess, we shouldn’t be… not for this.”

Oh. 

Tim lets his hands drop away, unable to hide the flinch of hurt on his face quick enough. Kon’s eyes widen and Tim watches him internally panic, scrambling to fix it. 

“Not anything to do with you! Tim, I swear. It’s me. It’s all me.” To prove this, he grabs Tims hand in his own, offering it a light squeeze.

“Kon, it’s okay. I understand.”

“No, you don’t. Just… listen.” Kon takes in a deep breath, his eyes trained on their intertwined hands. Tim waits, watching Kons face as he prepares himself to talk. When he finally does, he speaks so low that Tim almost thinks he misses it. “While I was off planet, I was thinking a lot. There was this plant and… well. Long story short, basically I figured some things out. About me. Um, a lot of things, actually. The big one I wanna tell you about is that I. Am. Gay.”

Oh. Oh .

Tim knows he’s not finished, knows there’s more Kon wants to say, but now he knows why. Tim remembers his own coming out, remembers how he was convinced that Bruce, Dick, everyone would hate him. That he would see Jack’s disappointing face whenever Tim wasn’t interested in football or action movies. That he wouldn’t be the perfect All American Son TM anymore. 

That he was a failure. 

He couldn’t imagine what Kon would be feeling, with the million tons of extra baggage he knew he was carrying. He squeezes Kons hand, gently encouraging him to continue.

“Uh, I also realised that I’m not… Well, I’m not attracted to girls at all . But also,” He takes in a shaky breath. “ Tana –” He breaks off, burying his head in his hands.

Oh, Kon.

Tim moves immediately, his hand latching around Kons torso and pulling him into an embrace. His left hand trails up to cradle the back of Kons neck, his right rubbing circles on Kons back. Kon freezes for a moment and Tim worries that he ruined everything before he melts, his arms coming up around Tim, his TTK pulling him closer until he sits in Kons lap. 

Tana had been off limits the whole time Tim’s known Kon. She’s been something that if anyone mentioned, he’d shut down completely. So this, the sheer vulnerability , meant so much. 

Kon pulls his head from Tims shoulder where he had buried his head, his eyes glassy with tears. Tim smooths his hair back from his forehead, his heart speeding up as Kon leaned into him, his hands gripping the back of Tims shirt like he’d run away at any moment. 

“I think I really did love her, Tim. I really did. But I was sixteen and she was twenty three, and I’m just nineteen and I’d never look at a sixteen year old that way. It was… it wasn’t right. And I can’t– I just–” He breaks off again, but before Tim says any reassurances, he continues. “I knew what I had with Knockout was wrong. It wasn’t until now I realised– I found out– It was rape . And I was so stupid , I didn’t– I couldn’t– I thought I loved her and she did that to me. How could– I don’t get it.”

Kon’s words fade out near the end, but Tim still catches every word. A pool of rage stirs up in Tims gut and he feels his feelings sour. He moves his hands from Kons back and cradles his face instead. Leaning in, he knocks their foreheads together, letting himself look Kon directly in his eyes.

“Don’t ever talk to yourself like that,” Tim says, combing Kons hair back with his hands. “You were never stupid. You were a kid. You didn’t deserve any of that, there was nothing you could have done. I’m so sorry, Kon. I wish I had done something.”

Kon snorts, close enough to a laugh that Tim still took it as a win. “You were a kid too.”

“Still,” Tim insists. They sit there for a moment, just looking at each other and hugging and breathing in harmony. “Sometimes, I think about building a time machine and going into the past to beat up everyone that hurt little you.”

“Tim,” Kon says with a glimmer of life in his eyes. It was dull, barely anything, but Tim latched onto it like a lifeline. “Imagine the paradox’s. Please, talk to Bart first.”

“Oh, I have.” Tim smiles as he continues to run his hands through his hair. “We’re planning on stealing the Cosmic Treadmill next week. Wanna come?”

“Does Cassie agree?” Kons hands move up from Tims back to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. 

“Cassie brought up the paradox thing too, but I think we can find a way around it.” 

Kon is looking up at Tim with such affection, such adoration that Tim can’t help his heart rate speed up and skip a few beats, can’t help his sudden desire to hold Kon and protect him from the rest of the world, can’t help his need to make sure Kon was safe. 

“This, uh.” Kon starts, his eye’s laser focussed on where one palm rested on Tims shoulder, the other on the small of his back. “You’re not gonna stop, like, being close right?” Tim just blinks back at Kon and the other boy lets out a small huff of hot air. Tim can feel it on his mouth and it should be gross but it’s just Kon. “Nothing’s gonna change between us?”

Tim blanks a little. Why would it change anything at all? Like, Tim wasn’t going to treat him like he’d break at any slight inconvenience, it would be very hypocritical of himself. But Tim’s brain, a little belatedly, reminded Tim of the first part of the conversation. Kon. Liking guys. Still, if anything would change because of that, it would also be very hypocritical.

“Kon, did anything change when I came out?” Tim asks. When Kon shakes his head slowly, he lets a gentle smile fall over his face as he strokes his hair back. “I’ll always love you, dude. Even if you suddenly grew two heads.”

Kon smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He looks almost disappointed, like he wanted something to change. And Tim ignores it, tucking it away in the back of his mind to think about later. 

Instead, he focuses on Kon. Beautiful, perfect Kon who was looking at him like he hung up the world and Tim has never been so overcome with an urge to kiss him. He settles for hugging Kon even tighter and detangling his hair with his fingers. He has the time. 

***

Tim wakes up to the sound of his phone ringing. 

He groans and moves to lift his arm to rub at the sleep crusting over his eyes, only to find his limb trapped. In fact, his whole body is trapped. A sense of panic overwhelmes him, but a familiar, low grumble makes Tim pause before he does anything too rash. 

Groggily, he opens one eye, confirming his theory. He’s in Kons bead, Kons head pillowed on Tims bicep and partially his chest as they lay almost face to face on their sides, one of Kons legs thrown over Tims. He can feel his TTK stretch around them, an invisible force holding him in close. Kon makes a small noise like a sigh and nuzzles further into Tims chest. 

Tims heart thumps so loudly in his ribcage that he’s almost certain Kon can hear it. Well, if he was awake, that is. His mouth is open, drooling slightly. His eyelashes are thick and long and tickle the skin of Tims exposed arm. He’s… beautiful. Tim is able to move his arm that isn’t being squashed up from where it lay splayed across the others back to brush a stray curl away. Kon leans into his touch subconsciously, sighing sleepily again, and Tim wishes he could just stay here in this moment forever. 

But the phone is still ringing. 

And Kons TTK still has an iron grip on him. Tim moves his finger to boop Kons nose, light but firm enough that he could try to wake him up. Kon keeps drooling. 

“Conner.” Tim says, his throat rough and hoarse with the morning mucus. Kons pink lips twist downwards a little and his brow furrows, like he’s trying to cling onto a few extra minutes of sleep. Tim can’t help the smile that twitches at the corners of his mouth. “Kon. Buddy. My best bro. Broski. Brochacho. Brotato. Bro–”

Kon groans, finally waking up. Blearily, he blinks, looking up at Tim through those long lashes, his brow furrowing further. “Brotato?” 

“You don’t like it?” Tim grins, running his fingers through those curls. Kon leans a little into his touch, furrowing his brow when he picks up on the phone ringing. 

“How long has that been ringing?”

“Well, you’ve been holding onto me like I’m your personal teddy bear for a while so I can’t get it.” Tim smiles as he says it, so Kon knows he isn’t complaining. 

“Timmy bear,” Kon says groggily, rolling out of Tims arms and relinquishing his TTK hold. Tims heart does something embarrassing in his chest and he hopes that Kon is too sleepy to tune in. The absence of the TTK makes Tim feel a little colder, a little less warm, but he ignores the feeling, sitting up to answer his phone.

“Finally!” Zoanne says, annoyance seeping into her tone. “What took you?”

“Why are you calling so early?” Tim grumbles, rubbing a hand at his eye sleepily. 

“Tim, it’s 2 in the afternoon.” Oh. Right. He had spent the better half of his night tracking down Laura and patrolling with Steph. When he got back at, like, three am, he had talked to Kon until the sun started rising and they drifted off. Although Tim remembers falling asleep on the couch, he wasn’t sure how he got here.

Kon stands, busying about pulling clothes from his drawers. Tim watches, a little more intently than he should. Did Kon carry him here? To his bed? His cheeks heat at the thought and he immediately has to look away, focussing on the soft carpet beneath his feet. They had slept in the same bed plenty of times before, more frequently after Kon came back and they were both less than okay. Why was this any different?

Belatedly he realised that Zoanne was talking. “-- Left your physics textbook. Why did you rush off? I’m not, like, offended or anything. Well. I am a little. I think I deserve an explanation so can you just open your door?” 

“Like… my apartment?” Tim blinks. It was too early for this. Kon looks over at Tim, as he pulls off his t-shirt, raising an eyebrow. Tim just shrugs back, forcing his eyes to stay on Kons face instead of the ripple of muscle below, his sharp cut torso, broad shoulders trailing down into a smaller waist, v-line dipping beneath his sweatpants– 

“I mean, I knew you were rich and all but like. Tim. This is rich .” Zoanne is saying. Tim looks away from Kon, hiding his smirk at her words. He wonders how she’d react if she knew he owned the whole building. “You own an apartment building, Tim. That is rich .”

Tim blinks. So she did know. “How did you–”

“Tim. Just open up and let me give you your textbook back.” 

Right. Okay. That’s smart, he’ll do that. He gets up, pulling on a pair of sweats so that he doesn’t open the door in his boxers and scare her. Shoving his hair out of his face, he walks down the hallway and opens his door. 

Sure enough, Zoanne is standing there, pink phone held to her ear, the other hand clutching his big textbook. She looks him up and down, her big hoops swinging as she does so, and offers him a sympathetic smile.

“You look…” She trails off with a wince. Tim rolls his eyes, taking the book off of her hands. 

“Ha. ha.”

“Yeah, I don’t know where I was going with that.” She admits, hanging up the phone and tucking it into the pocket of her blue hoodie. When she looks at him again, she looks slightly more serious this time. “Wanna tell me what that was about?”

“It’ll sound crazy,” Tim warns. 

The determined look remains on her face as she offers a gentle smile. “Try me.”

Tim moves back, letting Zoanne slip past and into the apartment. She does her best not to snoop, but he watches her eyes linger on the photos hung up on the hallway. There’s one throughout Kon’s and Tim’s whole life, pictures of Tim and Ives from highschool, a rare photo of Kon and Roxy while Kon wasn’t in his super suit in the early days, pictures of their Teen Titans days and significantly less of Young Justice. You couldn’t take many group shots when one of you was a ghost who couldn’t materialise most of the time and one of you was a pocket sized version of a previous alien hero. 

There were more of Kon and the Kents at the farm in his farm boy attire and Tim and everyone at the manor. It was his favourite part of the whole apartment, seeing all his loved ones framed and immortalised. No matter what happened, whether they were in a fight or… worse, they would still be there when he came home. Zoanne lingers at one photo, her eyes focussed with something like confusion mixed with understanding. Tim looks over her shoulder and his heart squeezes. 

A snapshot of his sixteenth birthday, taken by Cole the elevator guy. He remembers it like it was yesterday. His father had lost their money and they had been forced to move to the penthouse in the city, before Tim had started at Louis E. Grieve. It was less glamorous and stylish, but they were happy. 

The picture was of the five of them, his sixteen year old self with his arm thrown around Stephs shoulder, unable to hide the adoration in his gaze as he looked at her smile. Ives stood on his other side, holding up the pizza that spelled out his name in artichoke hearts. Dana stood behind them, laughing at something that Jack had whispered to her, his fathers hand a comforting presence on sixteen year old Tim’s shoulder. 

It was mere hours before Bruce had shattered his trust as a birthday gift, mere moments before he turned into a paranoid mess. He shakes away the thought, ignoring Zoannes intent gaze on him as he walks past and leads her into the kitchen. 

“Coffee?” He asks, already turning on the machine. She slips onto a stool at the island, grimacing as she looks behind herself at the abandoned takeout pizza boxes spread out across the living room. 

“Explain first.” Zoanne frowns. Tim smiles as he pours them both a mug, before slipping into place besides her. She always had her priorities straight, he was glad to see that hadn’t changed. “Look, I searched up Darla Aquista after you mentioned her and she looks exactly like Laura. And she died in a school shooting. And her Dad was a mob boss. So either Laura was telling the truth or–” Tim runs a hand through his hair wearily and just watches Zoanne piece it together in her head, her eyes widening. “Holy shit.”

“You can’t tell anyone, okay?” Tim says earnestly. “She’s really pulling her life around and she should be allowed her secrets.” Tim frowns, looking down at his mug. “Although, she should have thought about that before she decided to tell people but whatever.”

“Wait,” Zoanne looks a little lost as she slumps forward. “How do you know her?”

Tim winces a little, running another hand through his hair. It was an annoying habit, one he can’t seem to shake. “We went to school together. Before she– before my dad– before I was adopted. I tried to…” His throat clams up like it always does when he thinks of that time. When he thinks of his desperation to save her, running through the streets of Gotham, watching his friends die around him, useless to help them. When he thinks of 30 compressions followed by 2 short breathes. When he thinks of Tyrone, standing next to him asking him what he could do, a kid, not meant to be caught up in a gang war. When he thinks of Jimmy, bleeding out in the streets because he was trying to help, unlikely to ever play football again. He manages to push out a blunt statement, better than nothing. “Well, she died anyway.”

Zoanne makes a small noise and grabs his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“She came back all… wrong .” Tim frowns into his coffee. His reflection is strange, grief stricken, sad. “She was trying to kill Robin and she sought me out and just… everything got out of control. I tried to prove to her that the old Robin was gone, the one who had done everything that she had to kill him for, but she still attacked the new guy. And… and I told her I didn’t want to see her again.”

“Oh, Tim.” Zoannes hands are rubbing soothing circles into his skin, a warm comfort. He looks up, offering her a small smile.

“You just mentioned her and… and I freaked. I’m sorry.” He admits. 

“No, I’m sorry for pushing. I know you’ve been through a lot and–”

“But I never gave you answers back then and I don’t want to start our friendship off like our old one. You at least deserve some sort of an explanation.” Tim insists. He could never tell her the whole truth, but it was more than just saying I can’t without further explanation like he used to. 

At least it was something. 

A door opens and shuts from down the hall, followed by gentle footsteps on the hardwood. Zoanne bristles a little like any Gothamite would when they hear something unusual in their house, but visibly relaxes when she sees how Tim is unbothered. Kon appears in the doorway, glasses and flannel and all, looking like a perfect little farm boy. 

“Hey Tim, I just got a message from Starf–uhh.” He starts, before his eyes slip over to Zoanne and he aborts his sentence midway, instead offering her one of his award winning smiles. “Hey. I’m Conner Kent.”

“Zoanne Wilkins,” She grins, before turning to Tim and shooting him a little knowing smile. Tim just blinked back at her. 

“How do you know Timmers over here?” He asks, placing a piece of bread into the toaster.

“From highschool, before he dropped out to run around the world.” She’s careful not to mention the dating thing as she looks over Kon, taking him in. “I tutored him.”

“Really?” Kon asks, turning around with a malicious grin. “Smarty pants over here needed tutoring?”

Tim rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his coffee. “I’ll never live this down, thanks Zo.”

“It was more of a study hall than anything,” Zoanne insists, like she’s trying to preserve Tims dignity. 

Kon holds up a finger, leaning in to look at Tim over the kitchen island. “Don’t ruin this for me. With all that talk about being trained by the world’s greatest– uh–” His eyes glanced over to Zoanne with panic. “About being a supergenius, and all along he’s needed tutoring. Wow.”

“Shut up.” Tim hisses, but he smiles as he does so. It’s impossible for him to not smile when he’s looking at Kon. 

Zoanne stands, sliding out of her seat and shooting them both a quick grin. “Well, I better head off.”

“I’ll walk you out.” Tims follows her down the hall, shooting a glare back at Kon. Zoanne stops before she opens the door, nudging Tim in the ribs. 

“You two are so cute together.” She grins. “You didn’t say you were dating again?”

Tim’s mind just blanks, letting her words sink in. Dating. Him. And Kon.

“I mean, if I were you, I’d probably want to keep him all to myself as well.” Zoanne winks. Winks .

“We aren’t– Kon and I– it’s not like that.” Tim insists, feeling his cheeks burn up like a fire’s been lit under his skin. 

Zoanne frowns. “I’m not blind, Tim. I can see the way you look at him. It’s the same way you looked at Stephanie.”

“He doesn’t– not like that. We’re just best friends.” Tim lets out a slow exhale, looking away from her intense eyes, his gaze landing on a picture of them from when they were at the Australian Olympics. 

They had convinced Fite to take the picture for them, dragging Anita in with them. It must’ve been the last day of the Olympics. The five of them grinned up at the camera, Tim still wearing his ridiculous Alvin Draper disguise. You could spot Cissie in the background, waving from where she stood at the shooting range and if you really squinted, you could catch a glimpse of a smoky girl holding up a peace sign in the fog of Tims binoculars. 

“Best friends.” He reaffirms. 

Out of the corner of his eyes, he notices that Zoanne looks unconvinced, but thankfully she drops it. “Right. I’ll head out. But Tim?” He looks back at her. She smiles over her shoulder at him, a knowing, genuine one. “He looks at you the same way.”

Chapter Text

Tim was kinda regretting reconnecting with Zoanne.

The hall was set up for a S.T.A.R labs conference, transformed with different tables and setups, showing off designs and different fields to Metropolis Universities science departments. People were everywhere, filling the room from top to bottom. 

And Zoanne had insisted on dragging him to every. Single. Table. 

“Tim, oh my god, look at this.” She bustles over to a table where there is a collection of books, a bored looking guy slouching behind it. She picks one up, shoving it in Tims face so close his eyes blurred trying to read it. 

“What am I looking at?” He pushes down the top of the book, shooting Zoanne a look. She just taps the cover impatiently, redirecting his attention. 

A few words jump out at him like genetic engineering and practical applications of human genome sequencing and gene therapy and for someone who couldn’t even clone someone with access to the world's best cloning technology and explicit instructions, he couldn’t make any sense of it. “What– oh.”  

By Serling Roquette. 

“Oh? Oh? ” Zoanne mocks him as she gazes down with adoration at the cover. “This information revolutionised modern medicine as we know it, stabilising DNA and leading to advancing medicine by jumping through decades of research. Sickle cell anaemia, birth defects, you name it, able to be treated and cured way more efficiently and effectively. She brought us forward by decades. This stuff is not just something you say ‘ oh’ to.” 

Tim raises his hands in defence, holding them high above his head like he was surrendering. “Zo, you know I’m studying engineering because I failed biology. You were there to laugh at me about it.”

“That was because you fell asleep in the middle of the test,” Zoanne frowns and… well… Huh. He did do that. “And you fell asleep during class. And during lunch periods. And during dates. And–”

“Okay, okay!” Tim exclaims, dropping his hands. “You don’t need to air out all of my dirty laundry.”

“What, are you planning on picking up a girlfriend here? Or boyfriend?” Zoanne asks, poking him in the ribs, a knowing smile on her face. Tim just glares at her, not just because she hit him directly in the bruise that spanned his side from last night's patrol. 

Ever since she met Kon, Zoanne has been insisting that Tim should ask him out, saying that he was clearly into Tim. But Kon looked at everyone like he looked at Tim, like he wanted to pull them apart and know everything about them, like he was completely and utterly in love. It wasn’t anything personal. 

“Okay, I’ll drop it.” Zoanne smiles up at him. “For now.”

Tim grimaces, watching as she leaves to make her way over to the guy. He snaps alert, scanning the book as she pulls out her phone to pay for it. If she wanted to talk about looks of love, she should take a look at herself and that book, gazing at it like it was her long lost lover. She makes her way back over to him, opening her mouth to talk before she gets cut off by a girl stumbling into her, her prized Roquette book clattering straight to the ground. 

“Oh my gosh,” The girl says, stopping to crouch down and pick up the book. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve been watching where I was going–”

“No, no. It was my fault.” Zoanne insists, tucking her hair behind one ear nervously as the girl straightens, pausing to look down at the book in her hands.

She has blonde hair cut into a shoulder length bob, pushed back by a pink headband, cat eye glasses hanging low on her nose. She wore big, chunky earrings and a bright leopard print shirt. And, he realises belatedly, she was totally checking Zoanne out. 

“Are you into genetic engineering?” The girl looks up through her long lashes at Zoanne, who lights up with the question. 

“Am I?” She exclaims, and then turns a little embarrassed by her shout. She continues in a lower, but no less excited tone. “It’s my dream to work at S.T.A.R labs one day. Like, I wanna be up there with the greats, like Emil Hamilton. Well, before everything happened.” She pauses a little. “Usually when I say that, people get really weirded out, but he really did so much for society before the evil stuff.”

“Yes!” The other girl agrees, a grin spread across her face and Zoanne practically glows under her praise. “Honestly, more people need to hold appreciation for the good stuff scientists do before they turn evil. I didn’t really understand it before I was actually in the field but it really is a faint line between ethical choices. It’s hard to see if the benefits outweigh the cost.”

“Do you intern?” Zoanne’s voice is all soft and sweet and she looks at this sciency girl like she is the best thing in the world. 

“No, I kinda got a head start into the field. Like, a big head start.” Sciency girl seems to close off a little, like she’s embarrassed. It’s only because Tim can read body language that he notices. Zoanne doesn’t, just grinning back at her. 

“Like Young Sheldon?” She jokes. The tension eases out of sciency girl's shoulders and she laughs. Zoanne’s eyes light up as she watches her head tip back and her cheeks darken and suddenly, Tim feels really awkward just watching his ex-girlfriend pick up girls in her own freaky, sciency way. Luckily, a persistent buzzing in his pocket from his phone gave him an excuse to look away. 

hey, you know that science conference thing you're at?

yeah…

you’re gonna see me on stage in like five minutes

huh?????????

Tim frowns, when a loud voice booms through speakers. 

“Serling Roquette’s lecture on gene therapy will commence soon in room–”

“Holy shit!” Zoanne says loudly and suddenly, he feels hands latch around his wrists and spin him around until he’s looking into Zoanne’s earnest face. “Tim, we need to leave, like, right now. We need front row seats. This is the most important moment of my life.”

Tim looks behind her at the sciency girl who is for some reason blushing at that statement. He really doesn't get biology. “What about your girlfr–mmf!”

Zoanne’s face flushes darker as her hand covers his mouth, turning around to the other girl apologetically. But she’s already pushing the book back into Zoanne’s hand and smiling down at her. 

“I have to go as well. Maybe I’ll see you after the show?” She says, tucking a blonde strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Uh– yeah!” Zoanne beams, and Tim didn’t know someone could blush more than both of them were. The girl walks away, offering a small wave as she leaves. Something about the gesture seems familiar to him, but he can’t figure out where he would know her from. 

They squeeze into the small auditorium, somehow finding two seats in the second row. The lights start to dim, and somehow the whole auditorium’s chatter immediately stops. 

A girl walks on up to the podium, blonde hair, pink headband, smiley face earrings. Serling Roquette looks down, finding them in the second row, and winks. Zoanne takes a sharp breath in and somehow manages to turn a whole different colour.

“Hello, everyone. I’m Dr Serling Roquette and I’m here to talk about the practical applications of genetic engineering and how it can be used to cure rare and unusual diseases. Lucky for you all, I managed to get us a volunteer so you can understand the process a little better. Please give a warm welcome to my personal favourite superhero, Supernova!”

And Kon bursts in, waving to the audience, shining in the spotlight like he was made for it. He’s wearing his super suit and red fingerless gloves. Even though he’s not wearing sun glasses or a leather jacket, it’s like looking back into the past, the familiarity of his appearance overwhelming with memories of good and bad.

When the lecture finishes, Serling is offering book signings at a table while Kon sits next to her, a grin on his face as he talks her ear off. She gives him a fond look as he chats, one that Tim knows all too well. He sees it on his own face, on Cassie’s, on Bart’s, on Clark’s, on Ma’s. It was a look of adoration, a look of affection. A look of love.

Zoanne has Tims wrist trapped under her own grip as she drags him over to the table, her excitement barely contained under her skin as the line slowly edges forward more and more until they’re face to face with Serling. She looks as surprised to see Zoanne as Kon looks to see Tim. 

“I feel really embarrassed right now,” Zoanne smiles, flushing darkly as she slides the book over the table to Serling. Tim meets Kons eyes from across the table. Kon offers him a little wave, which Tim frowns at. Any sign that they knew each other could compromise his or Kons secret identity and he’d rather not get outed as a superhero in front of his entire school.

“What?” Serling's face is briefly overcome with something like panic as she opens the book to the front page. “Why would you be?”

“I explained CRISPR . To you .” Zoanne shakes her head. “I’m honestly mortified.”

“Don’t be!” Serling yelps, her cheeks turning scarlet. “It’s always so interesting to hear others' perspectives on science, it’s one of the parts that I like most about my work.” She adds in a quieter voice, averting Zoanne's eyes. “Besides, I like listening to you talk.”

Zoanne beams, her cheeks darkening and her eyes lighting up with the comment. Tim feels Kons eyes sear into the side of his head as he pointedly avoids his gaze, watching as Serling signs Zoannes book, leaving an extra note at the bottom. 

“My number,” She grins, her eyes skirting over to Kon before focussing back on Zoanne with more confidence. Slowly, Tim feels an invisible force trail over him, little tendrils reaching out to tickle him. He takes a sharp breath in to stop himself from laughing, ignoring Kons relentless attempts at trying to grab his attention.  “If you wanna meet up sometime.”

“Thanks,” Zoanne grins, turning to move away. Tim doesn’t follow her, his body frozen in place with TTK. She stops, cocking her head curiously as she sees him standing still. “Tim? You okay?”

He lets out a sigh of surrender, turning to Kon with a strained, fake, smile. 

“Supernova.” He greets between clenched teeth. “Can I get a photo?”

Kon acts surprised, leaning in with a bright toothy grin. “Why, if it isn’t Timothy Drake-Wayne! A photo? With little old me?” 

“Yes.” A TTK nudge. Tim resists the urge to roll his eyes. “ Please .”

“Well, if you insist.” Kon smirks, pulling Tim into a side hug and tossing a polaroid camera on the table into Zoanne’s hand. Tim can feel the heat of Kons body seep through the layers of clothing, feel the tickle of his curls on his forehead, feel the familiarity of Kons arm, a comforting presence around his shoulder, and can’t stop his strained smile melting into a real one. 

“Thanks.” Tim says when the photo finishes and Kons arm left his shoulder. 

He cocks his head, beaming as he steps away from Tim. “Anything for a fan.”

When Tim walks away, he avoids Zoannes questioning gaze until she decides that she doesn’t want to just brush off the incident. 

“What was that about?” She questions. 

“Nothing.” Tim says, a little too quickly to be natural. “Just paying my respects to the hardworking heroes of the city.”

“ Oh-kay ,” She’s not convinced, and Tim can tell. His eyes scour the conference for something, anything that can pose as a distraction, his eyes landing on some kind of robot machine demonstration happening at one of the tables. 

“We did your biology thing, now let's do something so that I can feel smart.” Tim says with a smirk, grabbing her arm and pulling her over to the table. “Look, a robot!”

***

Kon framed the photo. 

It stands proudly in the hallway on display, right at the entrance of the apartment. The frame is a cheap, extravagant, fake gold with engraved roses that Kon picked up at one of those tourist trap shops. Paint was already chipping off only three days later. 

“I still think it gives us away.” Tim scowls at the photo as he hops on one foot, trying to pull a shoe on without having to undo the laces. “We shouldn’t have it out in the open, someone could recognise you especially.”

“Nah,” Kon calls from his bedroom. There's a loud thump and an even louder sigh before Kon speaks again. “Where’d you put the keys?”

“Gimme a sec.” Tim frowns, sticking his foot against the wall and pulling until the shoe was firmly on his foot. He makes his way into the room, finding Kon hovering his bed above ground with his TTK. “I don’t think it’s here, man.” 

Kon frowns as he scans the bare floor. He wears a flannel over a Star Wars t-shirt, faded jeans and glasses on his nose. He looks like a complete dork. He also looks really hot. Tim looks away with a shrug, his eyes skirting the room. His eyes trail over Kons jumble of a desk, papers thrown about messily but still managing to appear neat like the rest of his room. 

Somehow, Kon couldn’t live in a chaotic slump like Tim could. Maybe it was because of his time with the Kents in his teens, while Tim spent his teenage years mainly rejecting the idea of cleanliness. Mrs Mac had given up after a couple of weeks of housekeeping and when his Dad got out of the coma, he was in a wheelchair most of the time and couldn’t exactly get to his room on the second floor. And Dana hadn’t bothered to remind him to clean up, just shrugging and reaffirming ‘Out of sight, out of mind’ before closing the door.

“I’ll check the kitchen.” Tim sighs, pausing in the door frame before he exits. “And people aren’t as dumb as you think. They’re gonna look at that photo and piece it together.”

“The glasses, bro.” Kon smirks, tapping the frames sitting low on his nose. “Trust me, it works.”

“Yeah, right.” Tim snorts, turning away.

“Superman approved!” He hears Kon shout back as he walks out to the kitchen, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He looks around the kitchen carefully, scanning the marble for the keys. Something catches his eyes, a shiny object crammed in the small space between the fridge and the wall. 

Frowning, Tim maneuvers himself to be crouched down near the space, attempting to worm his fingers through. When that doesn’t work, he grabs a knife, lying himself flat on the floor and using it to scrape the object towards him.

Gotcha.

He extracts it from the dusty crevice, smiling when he sees the familiar Blue Beetle keychain that hung from his keys. It was subtle, just a faint outline of Ted Kord’s bug, but it made his heart feel heavy in his chest. He pushes the memories of the man to the back of his head, pushing himself off the ground and placing the knife in the dishwasher. 

“Can I drive?” Tim looks up at the sound of Kons voice. He stands where the hallway meets the kitchen, the morning sunlight peeking through the blinds, making his eyes seem even more impossibly blue from where they look over the rim of his glasses to Tim. The corner of his mouth tips upwards as he offers him a smile, different from his award winning paparazzi looks. 

This one is genuine, capturing the essence of him. It’s less large, less teeth, but no less blinding. Tim feels his pulse quicken as he looks over his best friend. In the morning light, he looks ethereal, beautiful, all the more unattainable. 

… Fuck. He’s really gone for him.

“No,” Tim schools his face into a neutral look, willing his heart to slow down. In a quick manoeuvre he learned from Dick, he vaults over the kitchen island, walking past Kon nonchalantly. Nailed it. “I’m not letting you hurt her.”

“I swear, you talk to your car with more affection than you’ve ever talked to your partners.” Kon grumbles, following Tim down the hallway and out the door. 

“I do not,” Tim scoffs, locking the door after them. “I’ve never had any complaints. Aside from Steph, but she was just jealous she only got a lame motorbike.”

“Jealous of you or your car?” Kon smirks, leaning on the doorframe and peering down at Tim. Tim rolls his eyes in response, making his way to the elevator. 

Kon keeps teasing him the entire drive, until the skyscrapers of the city melted into fields of crops and farm life. Eventually, Kon got sick of it and started fiddling with the channels on the radio nervously. Tim picked up on it quickly, he couldn’t help it if he was observant. But he was able to avert his gaze and grant Kon some semblance of privacy. 

“Hey,” He says softly over the gentle bass of some 90’s grunge girls band that Kon had put on. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Kon responds a little too quickly for comfort. He clears his throat a little, his eyes trained on the radio. “Yeah, I’m good. Just brings back memories.”

Tim’s eyes trail down to the radio, some Garbage album that he faintly recalls Steph playing on repeat when they’d date. The sound brings back memories of when things were simple, when they’d sprawl out on his bed in the apartment in the city, talking all day about everything and nothing at the same time. Just two dumb fifteen year old kids, the frost of the December air causing the windows to fog up. Steph would turn up the album to drown out the noise of his father and Dana arguing in the next room, the sounds of her anger and frustration pouring out against his blank emptiness. 

She was used to dysfunction. He was not. 

Still, sitting here in the car with Kon, he could relate to the feeling of nostalgia that music of the past onset. Keeping his eyes on the country road, he reaches out a hand before he thinks properly, letting his palm fall on Kons clothed thigh. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Kon jolt, looking down at his hand before relinquishing a small smile, letting his own hand land on top, offering Tim a small squeeze. They continue down the road in a comfortable silence until they pass the sign announcing they were in Smallville. 

As the car rolls up to the Kent farm, Tim barely has the time to stop when a bundle of white fur runs in front of them. Kon immediately gets out of the car and gets tackled right away to the ground. 

“Hey, buddy!” Kon laughs, running his hands through Kryptos soft fur to be met with relentless licks on his face. “I missed you too.”

Tim locks the car as he gets out, leaning against it as he grins down at Kon who is still getting mauled by the dog, his laughter igniting something warm and fuzzy within Tim. Eventually, when he supposes the staring might get too weird, he pushes off and crouches down next to them. 

“Having fun there?” He asks, smirking as Krypto licks a stripe up the side of Kons face, causing his hair to spike up. 

Kon smiles up at Tim like he’s in heaven and hasn’t just been coated in slobber. “The most fun.” 

It’s not fair that he looks absolutely gorgeous, even coated in saliva and dog hair and a bit of dirt from where he had been launched into the ground. Tim can’t drag his eyes away, just crouched there grinning at him like an idiot, taking him in. That is, until Krypto notices he’s there and starts shoving his head into Tims hands. 

He pulls his attention away to ruffle Krytos fur enthusiastically, prompting him to roll over onto his stomach for rubs. He can’t help laughing when he pulls his hand away only for the dog to look at him with utter betrayal. 

“Kon!” A loud shout from the porch was all the warning they got before a superpowered blur was rushing past him and jumping on Kon, pushing him back to the ground right after he had gotten up.

“Hey little bro.” Kon beams, ruffling Jons hair from his position on the ground. Jon frowns, pushing him back with an air of disgust.

“Why do you smell like dog? And why are you so slimy ?” He gags, wiping his hand that had made the mistake to touch a wet part on Kons flannel. Kon rolls his eyes, pulling himself to his feet before extending a hand to the other boy. He makes a vague gesture towards where Tim was trying to back off of giving Krypto stomach rubs without making the dog sad. It seems like an impossible endeavour so he sits down cross legged, resigning himself to being a dog petter forever. 

“Use some of those detective skills that Damian has been trying to drill into you.” Jon frowns, pouting slightly as he accepts Kons outreached hand. Kon pauses, looking Jon up and down before groaning like he realised something. “Wait… are you fighting again ?”

“It’s not my fault!” Jon insists, turning on those bright baby blue eyes that made Kon waver in his false annoyance. “He’s just so arrogant. He thinks he’s so much better than me all. The. Time. And then when we fight he just shows up like he expects everything to be immediately better! He never apologises!” 

Kon looks over to Tim with a knowing smile as Jon keeps rambling about all the ways that Damian pissed him off in that week alone, sounding a little too familiar to how they started out. Arguments over silly things, getting into stupid dumb fights and then struggling over who should take the blame, back when Young Justice felt like an indestructible team, no matter what they faced. Back when no one died. 

He shakes his thoughts away. Donna was back, after all. And Slobo… he wasn’t even sure if he was dead . The omega beams could’ve pulled some weird time fuckery and even if Slobo was alive, he wasn’t sure if he would want to come back.

Jon looks over to where Kon was smiling at, grinning himself when he sees Tim. “Hey Tim!” His face goes a little solemn and the colour drains from his cheeks, like he realised he messed up. “Oh, please don’t tell Damian I said that.”

“I won’t,” Tim grins, carding his fingers through Kryptos fur. “He can be a piece of shit sometimes. But he’s trying really hard.”

“I know,” Jon huffs out, like he’s heard this before. And he probably has if Tim knows Clark as well as he thinks he does. Krypto gets up to go jump on Jon as Kon walks over, pulling Tim to his feet. 

“Hey, we weren’t the best of friends when we started out either.” Kon grins, wrapping an arm around Tim’s shoulders and giving him a soft squeeze. Tim beams up at him, leaning into the embrace. “Look at us now.”

“Best friends,” Tim affirms, smiling over at Jon who wrinkles his nose with disgust. He notices Kons face doing something weird out of the corner of his eyes, but when he looks back it’s been replaced with a big bright smile. 

“Ew, I don’t wanna be all mushy like you. You guys are gross.”

“Thank you, my dearest little brother.” Kon rolls his eyes at Jon. The eleven year old sticks his tongue out back. “I can always count on you to be nice.”

“Technically, I’m older than you.” Jon smirks as Kons smile drops off his face. “So really, you're my little brother.”

“No you're not, you little shit.” Kon drops his arm from around Tims shoulder in favour of charging at him at superspeed. Tim sees a blur as Jon takes off in a run, cackling over his shoulder as Kon begins to plow through the fields of farmland, Krypto hot on his tails barking as they go. 

Tim grins as he watches them frolic around, at one point Kon had latched onto Jon with his TTK and pulled him back so now they were getting into a heated argument over whether or not Kon was cheating. He hears the porch door swing open and turns around to smile at whichever Kent had come out next. 

“Tim, it’s good to see you.” Mrs Kent beams at him, her greying hair tied back neatly and an apron tied around her waist that proudly declared she was the Best Mom Ever . 

“Hey Mrs Kent,” Tim grins, walking towards her. “Thanks for having me. I know this is family thing but–”

“Oh, hush. What did I say to call me?” Mrs Kent tutts, pulling him into a hug. She smelled like cookies and roses. “You mean so much to Conner, you're always welcome here, Tim.”

Tim ducks his head in a pointless attempt to hide the blush rising to his cheeks. He meant a lot, but definitely not the same way that Tim felt. “Still, I’m grateful to be here. Oh, and Alfred says hi. He said to ask for your apple pie recipe.”

“Only if he gives me his fudge brownie recipe in return.” She winks, her hand trailing up to Tims cheek, her eyes turning a little more serious but no less blatant in their affection. “You’re taking good care of yourself?”

“Yes, Ma.” Tim smiles, giving her other hand a little squeeze. She grins in response and Tim can immediately see where Kon gets his glowing smile from. His ability to light up any room he’s in, creating an urge in others to protect that light from a single smile. 

A large shout tears Tims eyes away just in time to see Kon laughing as a mud covered Jon throws a pile of dirt at him. Ma just chuckles, patting Tims cheeks affectionately before turning away and back into the house. 

“They’ll be a while now, we best get on.” She says, leading him back towards the house. “Everyone else is out the back.”

Tim follows her through the familiar house of the Kents out towards the back where the barn was. As soon as he steps out the back door, he almost runs into Clark. The man is tall, broad shouldered, less bumbling than he is as a civilian but still not as composed as he is as Superman. He grins down at Tim after a second and Tim notes how weird it is to see him with the Clark Kent hair but wearing the Superman smile. Or maybe it’s the Kent smile, seeing as every single Kent he knew was able to ignite that same feeling of hope by simply being in their presence. 

Regardless, the absence of his glasses was noted. 

“Tim!” He grins, pulling him into a hug. “It’s great to see you again, it feels like ages.” Tim does not point out how they technically teamed up last night to bust a drug ring. After all, he understands the importance of separating civilian and superhero life, maybe more than anyone. “Where’s Conner?”

“He’s a bit busy.” Tim smiles sheepishly with a shrug. Clark does that thing where he seems to zone out a little, honing in his hearing to target something specifically. 

He lets out a low chuckle, signifying that he found Kon and Jon. “They’ll be a while. Those two always take ages when they’re in a fight.” His hand squeezes Tims shoulder, gently but firmly, and his electric eyes soften as they meet Tims. “I’m glad Conner has you. I think you’ve really helped him.”

Tim rubs the back of his neck, an unfamiliar feeling of embarrassment overcoming him. Sure, he’s been embarrassed before, especially with the amount of bullying material that Barbara has on him. But this type of embarrassment is different, without the usual regret and sinking feeling. He’s felt the good embarrassment before too, usually after a save or something done well worth the praise. Not from his best friend's brother/cousin/dad thing saying that he was a good friend. 

“I haven’t really done much.” Tim says. Clark just squeezes his shoulder once again. 

“You’ve done plenty. You’re good for each other, ever since you’ve been together–”

“Smallville!” Lois yells from where she stands under a tree, talking into her phone. “Get your ass over here– No, that’s not right. The Lexcorp conference– well, do you have a pulitzer? No? Then you can’t talk about my journalism. Oh, now you have excuses– okay– Clark?” 

Clark gives Tim an apologetic smile, super speeding over to his wife and taking the phone from her, speaking in a lower, more understanding tone. They both remain crowded around the phone under the tree, but Tim could see them casting each other glances that were overly fond.

Turning away from the couple, he has barely a second before Kon appears in a blur next to him, coated in mud and a shit eating grin on his face. 

“Hey.” He says, his glee barely contained. Tim raises a suspicious eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Where’s Jon?”

Kons grin widens, stretching immensely over his face as he holds up a finger in anticipation. “Wait for it…”

“KON!” Jon yells and he appears a second later, drenched in water and mud and a very happy, somehow clean Krypto jumping at his heels. One look at him and Tim can’t contain his laughter, snickering as Jon glowers their way. “I’m gonna kill you.”

“Awww, you love me.” Kon snickers, wrapping an arm around Jons neck and ruffling his hair eagerly. 

“Conner Kent.” Mrs Kent snaps from where she stands at the porch, a brisket in her hands and a scowl on her face. Kon immediately drops his arms, standing upright with a look containing more fear than he showed when they faced Darkseid. “Go shower up before you decide to spray mud everywhere.”

“Sorry, Ma.” Kon sheepishly says, super speeding past her and into the house. Tim laughs as he passes him, the other boy slowing down enough to shoot an exaggerated look of betrayal his way.

She crosses her arm, shouting up at him over her shoulder. “No superspeed!” Jon joins Tim in his snickering, causing Mrs Kent to turn that attentive gaze on him as well. “You're not exempt either, Jonathan Kent.”

“ Ma ,” Jon pouts. One look and he lets out a resigned sigh, following Kon up at a much slower pace and with a mumbled apology.

“And Tim,” Tims head snaps back to her, the humour absent from his expression. She just gives him a soft smile, reaching forward to pat his cheek affectionately with the hand that wasn’t carrying the brisket. “Go get the salad for me, sweetie.”

Tim smiles back at her. He’s grateful for the chance to be useful. He likes the feeling of being useful. 

He moves inside, collecting the salad from where it sat on the dining table with glad wrap over the top and everything, taking it to the long table outback. The only problem was, the table was already crammed with food and there was barely anywhere to place it. Tim frowns, furrowing his brow, ready to calculate the best place to adjust the food when there's a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“Here, I can take it.” A tall man with dark skin and a kind smile beams down at him, his voice vaguely familiar. It isn’t until a younger girl around his age pops up at his elbow that he pieces it together.

“Thanks,” he blinks as Steel – the older one – rearranges the food to make space for the salad. 

“He’s only doing it so that he can move the brisket closer to his plate.” The younger Steel quips, a fond smile on her face as she looks up at the man who just shrugs shamelessly. 

“I plead the fifth.”

“I’m Nat,” The girl turns that fond smile on him. “This is John, my uncle. You’re Kons batboy, right?”

Tim scrunches his nose up at the name. “In a sense.”

“Don’t call him batboy, he’ll go all pouty.” Kara comes up next to him, stealing a piece of chicken from the table. She shoots him a bright grin, tossing her blonde hair out of her eyes. “What’s up Tim? How’s Cassie?”

“She’s good,” Tim frowns a little at her. “And I don’t pout.”

“Sure you do, just like you mope.”

“Shut up,” Tim glowers, crossing his arms over his chest and…

“See! He pouted!” Kara declares, a smug look on her face. Tim just rolls his eyes, pointedly avoiding making eye contact with Nat who was pretending like she wasn’t laughing at him. 

“Whatever, you guys suck– whatthefuck– ”

He’s interrupted by something wet abruptly touching his thigh, causing him to jump and spin around. He’s met with big, innocent puppy dog eyes and a panting tongue. 

“Shut up,” He murmurs as Kara starts laughing behind him. He tries to shoot her a glare, but from her smile it was obvious that it doesn’t work. It’s more effective with the mask. He turns around, crouching down to scratch Krypto behind his ears. “At least someone respects me, don’t you Krypto?”

“Dude, he just tried to lick your ass.” Nat raises a carved eyebrow with a smirk. “I don’t think he respects you that much.”

“Shush,” Tim hushes her as he moves his hand under Krypto’s chin. “He loves me.”

As if on cue, Krypto’s white tail starts thumping up and down happily on the ground. Tim grins, a mistake when Krypto takes it as an invitation to lick a wet strip up the front of his face. He hears Kara make a sympathetic noise from behind him as she reaches down to ruffle his now wet hair. 

“Yeah, maybe he loves you a bit too much.” 

“Tim?” Mrs Kent’s voice sounds from behind him. He looks up to be met with a warm, bright smile. “Do you mind getting Conner from upstairs? We’re about to start eating.”

“Sure,” Tim stands, brushing Kryptos fur off his palms on his jeans as he stands. As he walks past her into the house, he passes Jon on the stairs in a fresh pair of jeans and a bright red hoodie. He grins up at him as the boy jumps down three at a time. “Hey, Jon. Did you guys have fun?”

“I won.” Jon puffs up his chest with an air of confidence. He pauses a little, seeming to lower in his spirits as he casts a sidelong look at Tim. “Just, uh, don’t ask Kon. He’s a compulsive liar.”

“Oh, I know.” Tim gives an understanding grin. “Don’t believe anything he says about me.”

“Did you really used to go by Mr Sarcastic or was that a lie too?” Jon smirks. 

Tim shakes his head. “Big fat lie. Any footage you see is edited.”

Jon gives a little, adorable fit of giggle that makes Tims smile widen. He’s young, younger than Tim was when he started out, but still managing to be so kind hearted and sweet and polite. Looking at Jon forces Tim to repress the urge to bundle the kid up into his arms in a hug and never let him grow up. 

“Hey Tim?” Jon asks after his giggling fit has calmed down. He shifts nervously from foot to foot, fiddling with his hands in his hoodie. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” Tim responds immediately, schooling his expression into the gentle, reassuring look that he gives to civilians. The kind that makes them feel heard and like they can talk to him about anything.

“Do you like Kon? Like like?”

Tim freezes, the smile dropping from his face. His body clams up as he looks down at Jon, who’s eyes widen more the longer Tim stays silent. 

“I mean– it’s just– sometimes you look at Kon the way my mom looks at my dad. And Dad says things sometimes that make me think you’re together ever since Kon got back from that space trip no one ever talks about. And you make him happy and–”

“We’re just friends.” Tim says. He feels weird about being that easy to read by the Kents. Clark’s an investigative reporter, sure, but Jons a kid. Practically a baby. He tries to push the sinking feeling in his gut away at the words, even more desperate to sizzle out the small spark of hope in the back of his mind that Clark ignited with his thoughts that Kon reciprocated whatever feelings Tim felt and tried desperately to squash out. 

“Oh.” Jon’s voice is small, and there’s something in his gaze that looks a little too similar to Lois’ look when she doesn’t believe everything that someone says in an interview. But the kid drops it, looking back down towards the stairs. “Well, be nice to him.”

Tim frowns at that. When was he ever mean to Kon? Even in the early days of Young Justice and they were bickering constantly, he was never really mean. Just a bit of a condescending jerk. But before he can ask Jon what he means, the boy is already back to skipping down the stairs. 

He brushes it off, moving up the stairs and knocking on the room to Kons bedroom. It opens immediately and he pokes his head inside to find Kon lounging on his bed, a photo album in his hand. He grins up at Tim as he walks in, blinding him with his joy. The afternoon sun bleeds through his blinds, hitting him in just the right way that lets his eyes sparkle. Just laying his eyes on him made Tim’s heart start racing. 

“Hey,” Tim looks away to take in Kons teenage bedroom. There’s posters scattered around the walls of different bands that he would listen to religiously, one very large one of Diana above his bed looking like she just left a battlefield, a TV in the corner and muddy clothes in a neat pile on the floor It was funny, despite spending less than ten minutes back here, Kon fit back in like the missing piece from his room. 

“Hey,” Kon grins back. His cheeks are red from the hot shower and he wears a pair of loose fitting basketball shorts and a pale blue t-shirt. With one hand, he beckons Tim over to his bed, pointing at the picture album. “Come look. I found this of our glory days.”

“Speak for yourself,” Tim quips in response, but he’s already closing the door behind him, making his way onto Kons bed. “I’m in my prime.”

“Keep telling yourself that, buddy.” Kon smirks, before abruptly wrapping his arm around Tim and pulling him in towards his chest until Tim curls into his side, fitting like a missing piece to Kons puzzle. “Look.”

Tim looks. There’s a picture of them when they were kids, taken from right after they made up after Apokalypse and Cassie was elected leader of Young Justice. It’s only of Tim and Kon, their arms thrown around each other's shoulders as they look at the camera with big wide eyes and large grins that dimpled their cheeks.

Tims arm was slightly bruised and both of them were red and sweaty and Tim’s mask had been discarded. It was clearly after a sparring match (which Tim remembers winning), their first physical altercation since Apokalypse. At least this time, neither of them had aimed for the face. 

“I won that match,” Tim says softly.

Kon guffaws, pushing him back to look him in the eyes. “No way, dude. You can’t have won.”

“Well, I did.” Tim smirks, leaning back against the headboard casually. “I’ve always been the better fighter.”

“Nah, I got super strength, remember?” Kon frowns. 

“Yeah, but I’m better.”

“Nuh uh!”

“Yuh uh!”

To prove him wrong, Tim grabs the pillow and hits Kon in the face before he can react. As the pillow falls, the look of betrayal and frustration on Kons face is enough to cause Tim to collapse in giggles. 

But as Tim laughs, Kon adopts a ferocious, determined look set in his face. Tim barely has time to register it before Kon throws himself at him, pushing him down on the bed and jumping on top of him. Tim shoves at Kons shoulders, causing Kon to grab his arms and pin them up above his head into the mattress. Tim indignantly wriggles a little more trying to escape Kons hold, but it's hard to overcome a Kryptonian with solar powered super strength with just his willpower. 

Kon leans in with a smirk. “Now who’s the better fighter?” 

His grip relaxes just a little, but it’s enough for Tim to wrap his legs around Kons midsection, using one of the tricks that Dick taught him to flip them in an instant before Kon can even blink. He ends up on top of him, his body pressed up against Kon, his thighs wrapped tight around his waist. With a laugh, Tim brings Kons hands up to where Tims used to be, grinning at Kon from his highground. 

“See? I’m always gonna win.” Tim’s hair falls down around his face, a little too long and a little too wild. Under his thighs, he can feel Kons chest rise and fall quicker than his normal resting rate. He looks at Tim a bit funny, way too intense to be normal. 

Tim’s smile almost drops as worry churns in his gut. He couldn’t have hurt Kon, not without kryptonite or magic or red sunlight, but something was still off with him and Tim was overwhelmed with a need to figure out what was wrong and fix it.

Tims eyes flit over Kon, scanning for any potential clues telling him what was amiss. He could have been infected with Kryptonite poisoning, but he surely hadn’t been alone enough to be hurt. Unless, the assailant was still in the room, but Tim was pretty sure he would’ve picked up on it. 

Kon’s pupils were dilated, his breathing coming in and out quicker than usual, and for a split second, his tongue darts out to lick at his lips almost nervously. His symptoms seemed to align more with illness and all too quickly, Tim is flooded with memories of different ailments Kon had told him about that happened before they had met. The Clone Plague being the forefront. If Kon got that again… well, he didn’t know what he would do.

Tim leans in, one hand dropping from where they were pinning Kons own hands down on the mattress to feel Kons forehead to see if it was hotter than normal, and as he does so, he spots a red flush slowly appear on Kons cheek. 

Oh.

You’re good for each other, ever since you’ve been together–

Kon wets his lips again, his own eyes searching Tims face as if trying to convey a silent question. He looks almost panicked, but also something like hope in his gaze. 

You make him happy–

“Tim,” Kon’s voice is breathy and light and he’s looking up at Tim with his beautiful blue eyes and Tim knows he should get off Kon and he’s making it weird, but maybe, just maybe , there looks like there might be a chance Kon feels the same way. 

I’m glad Conner has you. I think you’ve really helped him–

Be nice to him–

You mean so much to Conner–

 Dad says things sometimes that make me think you’re together–

“Tim,” Kon says again. Tim’s eyes scour his expression, looking for clarification, looking for certainty. Kon looks down at Tims lips cautiously before flitting back up to Tims own eyes, his gaze intense but with compassion. “You keep– can I–?” He makes several false starts, never managing to finish his sentence, but his eyes ask a question themself. 

“Do you like Kon? Like like?”

“Yeah,” Tim breathes out, like an answer to both Jon and Kon. Kon smiles a little, but Tim sees the nervousness in his expression. If he leaned in a fraction more, just a little bit–

“Kon? Tim? We’re having lunch– oh!”

Tim springs back as the door swings open, falling off the bed and onto the floor with a yelp. From his position, he can see that Kons floated up a foot, face tomato red and looking at Lois in the doorway with abortive panic. 

“Lois!” Kon speaks too loudly, too quickly. “We weren’t– there wasn’t– nothing was happening!”

Tim ignores the sunken feeling in his chest. Nothing. There was nothing. They were best friends. Nothing more. 

He really fucked this up.

“Kon–” Lois starts, a frown on her face like she wants to start something. But Kon just flies back down to the ground and runs a hand through his curls messily. 

“Lunch, right? We’re heading down now.” He laughs awkwardly, his hand trailing through his hair again and Tim has to fight the urge to pull his hand down with his own. Kon turns to look back at Tim, but Tim schools his expression into a blank slate, ignoring his feelings and pushing them back into the back of his mind. His blank face was supposed to be reassuring for Kon, but looking at him just made Kon freak out even more. 

“Kon, listen–” Lois starts, taking a step forward, her face determined in that way that it always was when she was determined to get a story out of someone.

“Lunch.” Tim affirms with a nod, not taking his eyes off of Kon, who gives a relieved smile and takes this as an invitation to practically run out of the room.

Lois looks at him for a moment, her face a picture of sympathy and understanding, like she knew exactly what he was feeling despite his mask of emptiness. They watch each other for a moment before Krypto trudges into the room, walking over to where Tim sat on the floor and plunking his head into Tims lap. He wags his tail as Tim trails his hand through his fur absent-mindedly. 

“Talk to him.” Lois’ voice draws his attention. She’s still in the doorway, leaning on the frame slightly. “He’s not gonna telepathically understand what you feel for him. You need to tell him.”

“Oh yeah?” Tim sneers defensively before he thinks. “Tell me. What do I feel?”

“You love him.” Lois retaliates, no hostility in her voice. Her bluntness makes Tim freeze where his hand is buried in Krypto’s fur. “But you need to tell him yourself.”

She offers him a small smile, pushing off of the doorframe and leaving, her heels clipping against the hard floorboards and eventually fading off into the distance. Tim flops back on the ground like a starfish in her wake, dragging his hands over his face with a groan. 

He fucked this up. Really fucked this up. He wasn’t gonna kiss Kon if Lois hadn’t walked in, he was just gonna... oh fuck it. He was totally gonna. He presses the heels of his palms into his eyes, frowning as he does so. 

They live together, they have been best friends since they were fifteen, have seen each other at their lowest points, dying and sick and wearing oversized gloves and stupid haircuts. Tim had literally fallen apart without Kon. Their friendship was probably the best one he ever had and now he had gone and ruined it. 

Would telling him end the friendship? Would not telling him make it even more strained and make Kon make that freaked out, panicked face when he got near? Tim wishes he could just know before he makes a decision and fucks it all up. 

Krypto nestles further into his palm, looking up at Tim with those big, understanding puppy dog eyes. Tim sighs, resuming his petting as stairs up at the ceiling. 

At least he knew Krypto loved him.