Work Text:
It had been a long day, which was probably why Tim had nearly thrown himself at Kon the moment he got home.
Kon provided quite the distraction from Tim’s painful habit of constantly thinking.
They practically shared an apartment now, which made moments like this much more frequent than Tim had ever anticipated.
This particular moment had Tim pressed with his back against a wall, legs wound around Kon’s waist, the frame of a painting digging into his shoulderblade. He couldn’t bring himself to care. Kon brought their lips together for another countless time, knocking the back of his head against the painting with a dull sort of thud that shook the canvas.
They needed to get rid of that painting.
Move it.
Something.
Tim heard a faraway sort of clap that held his attention for the briefest second, before Kon made a noise somewhere in his throat and Tim couldn’t help but respond by clutching the back of Kon’s head and forcing him closer.
The painting wasn’t bothering him at all anymore-
“What the hell?” a vaguely familiar voice called from the middle of the room. Tim’s eyes fluttered open, ready to beat the person who had interrupted them away with the nearest lamp, or maybe that damn painting-
They were in what appeared to be a cavern.
Okay.
Tim took in the large, stunned group he now realized was watching them. Kon was leaving a messy mark on his neck and he really didn’t want to interrupt. He heaved a sigh. It appeared as though duty had once again called.
“Stay still. We’re not in Kansas anymore,” Tim whispered in low tones against Kon’s ear. He froze.
“We were in Metropolis?”
“Nice try. Last I checked, we went with lighter colours for the apartment.”
“Damn,” Tim agreed whole-heartedly. Now he had to figure out where they were, find a way home, and pick back up where they left off. Please and thanks.
He surveyed the room in front of him. It was quite like a cavern, the walls hewn out of stone, circular with a domed ceiling. There was League Tech in the middle, projecting something about Qurac. He then realized that they had quite the audience.
Twelve sidekicks in the same room, staring at him and Kon with what seemed like a general mix of confusion and horror.
Miss Martian, with more, erm, reasonable assets and cropped hair had both her hands covering the eyes of a very young and struggling Beast Boy. Karen in her Bee suit, Mal at her side. Bart Allen was rocking back and forth on his heels like he had seen this coming from a few miles away, or had at least seen this before. Tim knew that the Blue Beetle before them was Jaime Reyes by the long string of Spanish profanities that he could just hear being murmured. Cassie stood, one hand on her lasso, eyebrows furrowed. Oh, joy.
A few other familiar faces, chiefly Nightwing. The uniform was a little different, but Dick looked like someone had just peed in his favourite cereal, and that wasn’t a face you forgot, mask or otherwise. Which meant one thing-
Ah. There he was.
Tim saw other-Tim last of all. He looked to be about fifteen, standing closest to the door, looking like he was either going to throw up or make a run for it. His Robin costume was vaguely reminiscent of the one Tim had worn in his last months in the mantle.
He wondered for a moment that was both sharp and painful, where this meant other-Kon was.
Tim did not extricate himself from his Kon.
“Who are you?” Dick asked in a voice like icewater, the stark white of his mask not doing very much to conceal just how wide his eyes really were.
He recognized Tim.
“Are they invited to the masquerade?” Tim sincerely hoped that Batman was the same flavor of anal retentive in the universe, and Dick understood the code. Otherwise, he might sound insane, which would stress Dick out even more, which on its own was entertaining, but given the present situation, wasn’t a very good idea at all.
The visible eyes of Nightwing narrowed dangerously.
“No.” Then a half-smile. “Do not pass go.”
The other-Tim visibly blanched. Tim mouthed a sorry in his vague direction. Dick raised an arm, as if he were about to usher the team away and give Tim a chance to figure out what the hell was going on, when someone jogged into the room.
“Hey, sorry I’m-” The Superboy of this world froze in place, nostrils flaring. “What?” Kon’s head snapped up, his vivid eyes meeting Tim’s own.
“Is that my voice?” The resemblance was uncanny, dumb t-shirt and all. Although, he wore his S-shield with long sleeves. This Conner’s gaze fell sharper, almost cutting across the scene before him. Tim knew that his Kon was about to do something incredibly stupid, but tried to stop him anyways.
“Yes, I think, just-”
“I’m gonna look.”
“Kon!” Tim exclaimed quietly. Unfortunately, superhearing. Just as other-Conner’s jaw dropped, Kon turned to face the group.
The collective gasp has enough to make Tim let out a burble of semi-hysterical laughter, before slapping the back of his hand over his mouth to muffle the noise. He still had one arm thrown over Kon’s shoulder, and both legs holding him up and against Kon. There was a bit of cave-wall digging into his shoulderblade.
Dick spoke dumbly over the sudden silence. “That’s a surprise.”
The-other Conner spluttered incoherently for a minute before Kon spoke,
“Oh, hey. Another me.” He turned back to face Tim before asking with a dopey smirk and an eyebrow raised, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking right now?” Tim swatted at Kon, fighting a dorky smile.
Other-Conner had blushed furiously at the comment, making him and other-Tim a matching set. Tim just sincerely hoped neither of them were going to pass out. Kon spent a long moment looking around at the now-even-more shocked faces of the room.
“Wow, this-earth you is so-”
And there was the incredibly stupid. Tim wasn’t really in a position to kick Kon in the shin, or elbow him in the ribs, or much of anything really, so he just tightened the grip of his legs around Kon’s waist, sudden and almost sharp.
Kon trailed off with a noise that was somewhere between a groan and a whimper.
Silence fell over the room once more. Tim felt the tip of his nose turn pink.
“Good improv.” Dick nodded from the back of the room. Tim blinked owlishly,
“Thank-mmph.” He was interrupted by Kon’s lips, against his own, and the only reason it surprised him at all was because of where they were, seeing as Kon did this to him maybe twice a week. A high-moan cut the air.
Oh, that was him.
Oh.
There was an awkward clearing of throats from someone in the room, and Tim didn’t know whose face he wanted to see more right now- other-Tim’s, other-Conner’s, or maybe even Dick’s- but his eyes stayed closed.
A distant clapping noise echoed, and Tim knew they were back home before he checked.
The painting was digging into his back again.
He pulled back, ignoring Kon’s small noise of protest.
“We’re home again.” He received a blink and a question,
“Do you have any idea why that happened?” Tim shrugged.
“No clue.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Kon asked gently, an eyebrow raised. Tim thought for a moment, about his little, prepubescent looking self, white as a sheet, and other-Conner, so confused. He smiled a little.
“They’ll manage on their own.” A fond smile spread across Kon’s features.
“What now?”
Tim responded by bringing their lips together once more.
* * * * *
The team stood stunned around him, and Tim really hoped he wasn’t blushing.
He could usually tell when his features turned that fluorescent pink that so often gave away his embarrassment. Right now, he just felt, well-
If what?! was an emotion, he was feeling it.
Then, before Tim could release the strangled noise that he felt working it’s way up his throat, the room exploded.
“Conner who was that!?”
“Nightwing did you know who that was?!”
“What just happened?!!?” Questions flew so fast that Tim couldn’t even tell where they were coming from, the chaos punctuated by the sound of Bart laughing madly and Jaime reeling off a colourful assortment of Spanish profanities to no one in particular.
Tim remained silent, all of the attention in the room focused on Conner and Dick.
Mostly Conner.
Conner.
That had definitely been him. Five, maybe six years older, hair in his eyes, legs wrapped around Conner Kent.
Tim carded a hand through his own, close-cropped hair, unable to do any else besides blink.
“Team!” Nightwing boomed over the noise, which abruptly stopped. The Batman voice did that to most people.
“Can you uncover my eyes now, please?” Gar whined, M’gann’s hand still guarding his innocence. Eyes. Whatever. Nightwing sighed loudly, and Tim knew he was about one stress level away from pinching the bridge of his nose.
“The mission isn’t until the weekend, so we can brief tomorrow. Dismissed.”
The team shuffled out, and Tim just stood in the corner, ignored by the team in general as per usual. He was a Robin, and he insisted that not being seen at all was always better than the alternatives.
Ignored by everyone except for Bart, who winked at him.
Oh God.
Before Tim had a second to contemplate exactly what that meant, or spiral into hysterics, Dick spoke again.
“You okay, Conner?” Tim glanced up, seeing that the Meta was staring, unmoving at the spot where they had just stood-or, whatever.
Of course, it hadn’t actually been them, it had been other-them. Probably a hiccup between universes, launched them over for a minute. Could have been magic, maybe even a complicated enough pollen or experiment gone wrong. Conner cleared his throat before he replied,
“Uh, yeah, I think so. I mean-” He stalled, “That was me, right?” Dick nodded slowly, and Tim sensed his eyes flashing in his direction.
“A version of you. And someone else. Did you recognize them?”
“No.” Tim was a little surprised at the level of disappointment he felt. “Maybe. I don’t- Sort of? I think I’ve had to have met him before- there was just-”
“It’s alright, Conner. You don’t need to have answers.” Kon gave a sort of breathy laugh, before stating almost shyly,
“I know, but, I kind of want them?” Now Tim felt his nose turn pink. “I think I’m going to go for a walk. Clear my head.” Tim was slipping towards the door, vainly hoping to escape before he was alone with his older brother after that.
“Sure thing.” Dick smiled a little at Conner, re-assuring. “Where you going, Robin?” he asked without even looking in Tim’s general direction.
“I was-” His voice came out really high-pitched, and he felt himself flush. “Um?” Conner exited the room with a frown.
“Escaping?” Dick asked, a warm smile that Tim was sure was supposed to make him feel better on his face.
“Yes?” The crack in his voice made it a question.
“So, you obviously know what happened there.” Dick crossed his arms over his chest, grin a little wolfish as he watched Tim squirm.
“Of course,” Tim snapped back, a little defensive, and if he was being honest, afraid.
“Tim, that was you and-”
“Dick, I know. I was watching exactly the same thing you were.” He averted his eyes, staring at the floor, and then, before much time at all had passed, that spot on the wall. Tim knotted his fingers together nervously as he waited for Dick to say something.
“Your hair looked really good grown-”
“I didn’t even know anything yet! I just wanted to make sure I knew before I said anything,” Tim blurted, still avoiding Dick’s eyes.
“Well, you don’t have to be gay for Conner…” Dick supplied, trying to be helpful, and failing sort of miserably.
“Can I please have some space? To think?” he rushed out. Dick pinched the bridge of his nose. Tim just sighed loudly. “Please?”
“Yeah. But y’know I love you no matter what little brother, right? And you can ask me questions about-”
Tim cut him off. “I’m leaving this conversation right now.”
“Okay.” Tim walked as fast as he could without breaking into a sprint, casting one last glance at the wall of the room.
Which was why he didn’t see the large obstruction in his path just after he rounded the corner until after he had sped right into it. Tim flinched almost violently in surprise, thrown wildly off balance. He felt someone stop him from falling.
Tim’s head snapped up, and he found his face was little more than a few inches away from Conner’s.
Tim squeaked almost inaudibly, before freezing in place, hands on the meta’s chest from attempting to stop his fall, and a hand on his back, placed to stop him falling, still in place for reasons not yet clear.
Tim could hope.
Conner looked about as horrified as Tim felt, but shock didn’t quite stop him from assessing the situation. He had been outside the door, and stationary…
“Have you been standing here the whole time?” Tim asked before he could stop himself, thankful at the very least that his voice wasn’t an octave higher than usual.
“Um.” Conner blinked, looking guilty. “Yes?” The pause felt almost exaggerated, seeing as neither of them moved in the slightest. Tim didn’t even breathe before he spoke quietly,
“Superhearing?”
“Superhearing.” Conner nodded slowly, looking down at Tim. “I-you-that-”
“We…” Tim tried next, words failing him as well. They cleared their throat at the same time, and Tim almost choked on a laugh.
“Us. That was us?” Conner asked him, and eyebrow raised, eyes seeking confirmation. Or denial. Tim couldn’t really tell which he’d rather hear.
“A version of us.” He swallowed loudly, reading nothing from Conner’s blank features. “He called you Kon. Other you.”
“It’s my Kryptonian name. Kon-El,” he answered with a shrug. His ears went a little red before he added, “You can call me Kon. If you wanted, I mean-”
“My name is Tim.” Tim surprised himself by blurting out, only to have Kon surprise him with a wide smile.
“Superhearing.”
“Right.” Tim sighed a little. “Well, keep it on the DL if you can- what?” Conner-Kon’s smile had turned into a smirk, a little bit of laughter in his eyes.
“Keep it on the DL? Has anyone ever told you that you are kind of a dork?”
“You like it.” Tim threw back before he could think to shut up. Kon’s eyes narrowed, but stayed bright.
“I think I do.”
Tim felt the way fireworks looked.
Which was probably why he rocked up on his toes, pressing an extremely soft kiss on Kon’s lips. He didn’t even have a second to be embarrassed or second guess himself before Kon was beaming. His finger were curled loosely in the fabric of the Superboy shirt, and he felt himself flush.
“What? We looked like we were enjoying ourselves.”
“Yeah, we did.” Kon was leaning down, and Tim’s eyes closed underneath his domino-
“Hey, what, come on-”
Dick grabbed Tim by the elbows and pulled swiftly, wrapping an arm that was both protective and restrictive around his shoulders.
“Glad that you got that cleared up. Now, if you’ll excuse us, Conner, I’m taking my little brother to have a Talk. Capital T.” Dick smiled broadly as Tim winced with his entire body.
“I’m fifteen, Nightwing, I’ve had the Talk,” he hissed at Dick, ready to get back to whatever it was that he and Kon had just been getting around to doing, feeling nervous to the point of squirming now that he actually had a second to think about it.
“Well, you can never have too much of a good thing.” Dick’s grip tightened. “Later, Conner.” Kon leaned against the wall with arms crossed and an amused smile, his eyes never leaving Tim.
“Later.”
