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the JL and YJ and as many other hero teams that can pitch in, fight an alien invasion. there were so many casualties. heroes and civilians. so much death. so many lives lost.
kon can hear everyone he needs to hear, he can clark’s heart, jon’s, lois’, cassie’s, bart’s. hell, he can even hear most of the bat’s heartbeats. most. but one is missing. his bat is missing.
he flies above the city, his heart hammering, his breath shaky, his whole body trembling.
he locks in on where his family is, some of the bats are there too. he flies down fast, he forgets to slow down in time, he crashes into the ground, leaving a small crater in the road.
clark and bruce rush over, helping him onto his feet.
“superboy. where is red robin?” bruce demands, gripping kon by his shoulders.
kon feels like his heart had been ripped out. his breathing picks up.
“i-i thought he was with you?” kon stammered out, looking between the two men. “we-we got split up around the second wave of aliens, he got surrounded but he told me he had it handled and to go ahead and that he would find…you…”
bruce’s grip tightens before he lets go, turning to clark. “superhearing?”
“i can’t pick up on red robin’s heartbeat,” clark whispered, and kon felt like the ground collapsed beneath him.
“it’s my fault. i left him alone,” kon blinked as tears fell down his face.
all of the heroes had been taken to the watchtower, kon was in a catatonic-like state as he walked through the halls. an ache in his heart as he watched others hug their friends and loved ones. he stopped at the window, overlooking the earth.
he watches as jason approaches him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “b wants you.”
kon follows jason absent-mindedly, guided by the hand now on his back. his steps slow to a stop once he spots that familiar hair, that familiar stance. he can suddenly hear it again.
he shouts his name, and he turns, and he smiles. that shitty, stupid, smart-ass smile.
kon runs toward him, picking up speed with each step until he crashes into tim, pulling tim close as he lifts him up and spins. tim wraps his legs around kon and presses his face against kon’s shoulder, pulling back once they still, tim grabs kon’s face and pulls him in for a kiss.
it was the best kiss kon has ever had.
“i thought i lost you…” kon mumbled, burying his face into the crook of tim’s neck. tim runs a hand through kon’s hair, whispering sweet nothings into his ear.
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Conner hated these assignments. Always in the lulls between missions, busy work, assigned by Batman, Red tornado, or Black Canary. 'To keep the mind sharp' they would say. Sharp his ass they just wanted the team out of the cave.
It felt like community service. Washing cars, getting cats out of trees, cleaning parks, and he wouldn't mind it if that was what he was actually doing. No. For Conner Kent they gave him jobs only he could pursue due to his size and intimidating appearance, Babysitting duty.
Keeping an eye on entitled girls for a week while they batted their lashes at him and made vaguely sexual connotations about his bike. He would be their chauffeur and butler, but never their companion. They might get everything they want because their families have some political pull but he can rebel in the only way he could, not engaging. The work made his blood boil he'd much rather be saving the cat.
This week was no different, he watched you, arms crossed as batman shook your 'daddy's' hand. Great- another sale made. His jaw tightened, this was going to be a long week. when you finally approached you were standing next to your father, a man reeking of privilege, holding his hand out for Conner to shake, he made sure to squeeze it a little too tightly another tiny rebellion won.
That week started out the same him showing up at your tiny castle of a house, making stiff introductions never sharing more than he had to. You watch him, eyes glinting curiously, your red glossy lips quirked in an amused smile, like you knew what game he was playing. 'smile now' he thought 'you wont be smiling long'. You offered your hand, he didn't take it.
The first day was spent at home, you watched TV your body draped over the couch while flipping through channels. Your gaze flicked between him and the TV, the same pattern: pause on a channel, look at him, change the channel. He looked forward jaw tight 'what is she doing?'. Over and over, pause-look-change, pause-look-change, pause-look-change, until one channel caught his eye. It was a quick motion, blink and you'd miss it, but you didn't, the cycle stopped. You didn't speak to each other for the rest of the day.
On the second day you were much more vocal, saying enough for two people and not getting discouraged when he never responded. He refused to look at your eyes, the eyes were too intimate and you guys weren't that close. His eyes, when they had to look at you, stayed firmly on your lips. The gloss was distracting, the red color vibrant, probably the most distinct thing about you. your boldness.
The way you spoke wasn't the nervous blabber of someone who didn't know what to say. No, no. It was cadenced, flirty, bold, just like your lip gloss. You spoke like he was an old friend, people who grew up together, who had history. At first he found it annoying, but it was consistent and eventually he found comfort in the noise. It made the heavy uncomfortable silence of strangers into a lighthearted conversation about whatever was on your mind. He found himself grunting in response to some of your points.
Day three was spent eating. "Have you ever had sushi before Con?" Con. Like you were that comfortable. "don't call me that" he said with an intense expression. "...and no". Your smile didn't fade at his bluntness, in fact it seemed to widen. "today's your lucky day."
The spread was two tables long and it was much more than sushi, it was sashimi, and kimbap, and onogiri, and musubi. It was glorious and drool inducing. The first bite he took... he was in heaven. "holy shit" he said, too surprised to hold the emotion in his voice. He suspected this feast cost more than it did to make him. You just watched with that same glossy smile of yours and this time he didn't turn away.
Day four was different, he almost did a double take when he looked at you. No signature look, no lip gloss, just a plain lip. Those pretty lips that he had been staring at, still good now, but uncannily uncovered. "we'll go to the mall to get some new lipgloss" you had caught him red handed (red eyed?). He nods and gives a noncommittal grunt but he felt a soft relief knowing he would see your pretty lips once again.
His last day came on day five and for once he wasn't eager to leave your side. It wasn't that he had grown extremely fond of you, he doesn't think, or that you had left this unfillable crater in his chest, but you didn't push him, and he learned to enjoy that and your company.
The bike ride over (because yes you made him take you on his bike) was exhilarating. Maybe he showed off a bit, doing tricks, speeding up, slowing down, all with confidence and expert control. All while you held on laughing and tightening your arms around his waist, which he didn't 100% hate.
The mall was loud and crowded, he didn't enjoy it. His ears rang from the rounds of shrill children laughing and forced conversation, but he endured. He tried to make a beeline for the makeup store but you stopped him. "we have a couple of things to get first" you said it with that mischievous glint in your eyes. He realized too late that he had been tricked into an errand run.
People parted for Conner, he wasn't exactly small, he kept close to your side. He didn't want someone bumping into you or losing you to a crowd, so he stayed shoulder to shoulder. His hands unconsciously brushing against yours with every movement, neither of you pulled away.
First stop. It was a... lady's wear store. Don't get him wrong Conner didn't flinch or fuss when you brought it up but he didn't step inside when you did. "I'll wait out here" He grumbles. It's a boundary set. He had no place in a store like that. You just gave him that same placid smile and stepped inside "alright I'll be out soon" you call back, respecting his autonomy.
It was almost half an hour later when you approach him at the threshold. "I need your opinion" you hold up two bras "Lace or push-up?". Shock. Genuine shock. He just stares at you, expression blank like he's processing what you've asked of him. You continue "Lace makes me feel dainty, but it has less support than the push-up, but the push-up isn't as pretty as the lace one". His ears go pink. He doesn't physically react but the signs are there. You waited patiently for his response, that shit eating grin on your plain lips. So he rubs his face. and without looking up, points to the lace bra. He just wants to get your lip gloss and leave.
The next two hours are spent shopping for things that were apparently not lip glosses, when you finally get to the makeup store he's holding so many bags it's cutting off circulation to his arms. He's tired and a little annoyed that the day went like this, but his shoulders relax when he finally realizes you're here, the final stop of the day. The store is dimmer than the lights in the mall outside, there are shelves of different products along the walls and composed in aisles. You in your radiant confidence know exactly where to go, and where is that? Away from the lip glosses. Conner internally groans. 'Just kill me now' he thinks.
You approach the perfume stand. Conner doesn't understand why you'd want to smell like anyone else. Tactically, it's not sound, He finally lets something show. Just a slight huff of annoyance. You turn to him "What you smell like is the first thing people notice about you. It leaves an impression whether you want it to or not." you spray a scent on your neck "here, smell." Conner hesitates for a moment, this feels intimate, he feels nervous. He leans in, his nose gently pressing against the side of your neck, your bodies pressed in a somewhat close position. Vanilla. He pulls back with a surprised look on his face. It's...nice, really nice.
Finally you approach the display that he had been waiting for. He eagerly pulls out a red lipgloss from the case to bring to you. For the praise or just to leave he didn't know anymore. You take it from him with a pleased smile but keep looking. "Why do you need to keep looking?" He asks. He got you the one you used before why are you doubting his choices now?
"Gloss is important, Conner, it's sexy it draws attention, it makes hot people stare at your lips". He scoffs, you reply, "and just like it's important to have a signature scent it's important to have a signature color. you can assume a lot about a person based on what shade they wear". After a long moment you put a swatch on your lips, a deep cherry red, the most natural he's ever seen you. "I don't like when mine are transfer proof. I like leaving my mark."
You look in the mirror, popping your lips, trying out the new shade. "would you kiss me with this color" you ask the question plainly but the amused glint in your eye doesn't leave. His face flushes in 2.0 seconds flat. This feels intimate. Very intimate. And suddenly the lipgloss section feels very dangerous. He swallows, eyes darting to your now cherry glossed lips, and gives the faintest of nods, finally meeting your eyes.
You lean up and kiss his lips, it's not fast or devouring, but just enough to transfer the product. "yeah?" you ask, now looking at his lips smeared with your lipgloss. He turns, looking at the adjacent mirror. His lips are tinted in a deeper pink than normal, some lies to the side near his cheek, he's marked by your color, because yes this is your color.
He nods, a little harder than before. hell yes. Maybe he is starting to understand this stuff after all.
