Chapter Text
“Kon!” Tim screamed, catapulting off a nearby roof and rushing to the broken body lying in the center of the crater. Cassie was already by the boy's side, but moved out of the way when Tim scrambled up to his alpha. “Kon, Kon—”
“He’s gone,” Cassie sobbed, and Tim. Tim couldn’t. He pressed his hands to Kon’s sickly unresponsive neck, his bruised skin, and shook until he couldn’t shake anymore.
And then Luthor swooped in—how dare he—and wrestled Kon’s body away from Tim’s hold. Not for lack of trying: Tim snarled and scrabbled against that impenetrable metal armor, but he and the rest of the Titans were too weak to do much else.
Luthor smacked Tim to the ground with a heavy, robotic hand. The last thing Tim could think of before falling unconscious was how it wasn’t fair. Kon was his.
Kon had been his from the beginning, and he’d be damned if he just let Luthor take him away again.
--
The first time they met, Tim and Kon fucked against the steel door of the boy’s Cadmus development chamber.
“Hey!” Tim snapped when the other teenager hitched him completely up against the door, forcing both of Tim’s feet off the ground and around this maddening alpha’s waist. Alpha because Tim could’ve sensed it rolling off this boy from a mile away. He exuded it from every pore. “Let me go, damn you—”
“Quiet,” the boy whispered, proving that this crazy clone could talk after all. Tim hadn’t meant to open his pod without backup, and they’d been in the middle of a vicious fistfight when the guy apparently just lost his mind. He tilted his head and gnawed on Tim’s earlobe, giving the omega perfect access to his neck and—
Fuck. Fuckity fuck, fuck. He smelled amazing. Addicting. Tim gasped and clutched the boy’s thick shoulders. Tilted his neck and shivered when the boy let out a pleased croon before trailing his teeth down his chin, and this was insane.
He should kick the goddamn alpha off him right now and tase him into submission. Enact any Bat maneuver between two and seven, all of which would’ve allowed him to escape the chamber and shut the door behind him.
Except Tim was hornier than he’d ever been in his fifteen years and he couldn’t stop.
Which was how, in a flurry of pants and boxers being shed and Tim seemingly getting every erogenous zone licked within the inch of his life, he found himself pressed face-first into the door. Had his legs spread open, and Jesus. Tim was astonished at how soaked he was down there. And then one moment the alpha’s hands were curiously stroking his hole, and the next a cockhead was pressing inside him.
Tim yelped, because wet or not he still needed prep. “Ow!” he reached his hand back and scrabbled against the boy’s shoulder. He found his wrist pinned and the alpha mercilessly continued to shove himself inside. “Ow! Slow—slow down—”
He let out a pained whine when the boy fully seated himself inside. Everything hurt, and it hurt even worse when the alpha dragged his stupid cock out and then shoved it right back in again. The boy huffed his frustration into his ear. Thrust a few more agonizing times before Tim’s shaking became too distracting.
He stopped, and Tim immediately yanked himself off the alpha’s cock. He plastered his back to the door and tried to tamp down his panic.
“Why?” the boy said, honestly puzzled at Tim’s sudden reluctance.
“It hurt,” Tim snapped past the tears. Felt his knees shaking and forcibly stopped them. “You can’t just shove it in, you’re gonna tear me open—”
“Then what,” the boy crowded close to him. Even through the pain he smelled delicious.
“You have to stretch me first,” Tim managed, “Fingers.”
“Waste of time,” the other boy growled, but then obediently pressed large hands under each buttock and stroked through the slick around Tim’s hole with his thumbs. Tim winced when he just shoved two thick fingers inside, but it was more bearable than an entire alpha cock.
He felt the boy’s breath puffing against his chest, against his nipple, and then the boy was nibbling at him again. Licking and kissing like he finally remembered how much Tim had liked that moments ago, and Tim couldn’t help but shiver at the sensation. Couldn’t help but be distracted from the burn at his entrance, especially when the alpha finally seemed to find Tim’s neglected cock and stroke it curiously with his free hand.
“It feels good under the—” Tim gasped, because that was a third rough finger and he was starting to feel strangely full. Not cripplingly painful though. “Under the head, just—no, further up. Right there.”
“Does it hurt,” the alpha said, rubbing Tim’s twitching cock with one hand and finger-fucking his ass with the other, and Tim’s breath was starting to shorten. That heady horny feeling he’d gotten the moment the alpha had scented him was coming back with a vengeance.
“No,” Tim whined, and barely reacted when the alpha slipped his fingers out and spread his legs wide. This time, he was ready for the boy’s thick cock. Twitched at the almost-too-much slide inside him, the incomprehensible feeling of being so full. He buried his face into this strange alpha’s neck and let out small, hitched gasps as the alpha drew back and began to thrust into him.
Ruthlessly, deeply, and with an animalistic edge to it. Hitting Tim in a strange tingling spot inside every time, and Tim wasn’t sure what the hell he was feeling. Not until his toes were curling and he was gasping with surprise as he came harder than he’d ever come in his life. The alpha let out a full-blown growl at how the omega shivered in his arms. Spread his legs impossibly wider and fucked into him so hard Tim felt like the world was spinning.
“Ah—” he mewled, bracing a hand against the boy’s shoulder and letting himself be brutalized. “Ah, you’re—you’re going too fast—”
“You enjoyed it,” the alpha ran a rough hand over Tim’s spent cock, and the omega bit his chin in response. The boy growled, low and angry, and then shoved his swollen knot past his abused rim. Tim hissed at the sudden sting, fingernails digging into near-impenetrable skin, and then the boy was coming inside of him.
It was obscenely warm. Obscene in general. The alpha groaned as he came again, and Tim stroked the boy’s face while he recovered in his lap.
Dark hair and pale blue eyes. The superman symbol carved into his white top. Super-strength, most obviously. Cadmus had been experimenting with cloning; ergo, this was Superman’s clone? He let out a small noise when the boy grabbed his hip possessively. Pulled him tight against him, like they could get any physically closer than his alpha cock knotted into his ass.
“Well,” Tim managed, feeling his dignity returning the more the endorphins wore off. The shame was probably going to hit him later. “That was kind of nice.”
The alpha had the hilarious gall to look offended. “Kind of?”
Tim patted his cheek. “You lose points for making me cry, big guy.”
“Conner,” the boy said, and look, Tim had a name to put to the alpha that was currently stealing his virginity. Had stolen his virginity? When did the sex officially end—after orgasm or after the knot went down?
He’d ask Dick, but then he’d never be able to look the man in the eye again.
“Conner,” Tim repeated. “Well Conner, I’m sure you’re a perfectly reasonable boy when you’re not trapped underground in a laboratory cloning pod. Not the type to attack every unwitting omega, I should hope.”
“What’s your name,” Conner said flatly, ignoring everything else. One-track mind, this one.
“Tim,” Tim said, surprising even himself when his real name fell from his lips rather than his superhero one.
“Tim,” Conner repeated. He looked thoughtful. “Tim, Tim, Tim…”
“Yes, that’s me,” Tim said dryly, and the alpha looked a second away from asking something else when a loud bang erupted from the door behind him. Tim jumped, which was nothing to Conner swooping in and gathering Tim in his arms. He hid him under his bulk like some dainty omega in a prehistoric drama, and Tim would’ve found it hilarious if the banging wasn’t followed by Cassie’s voice.
“Tim!” the alpha girl called out, “Are you in there? Tell me you’re in there, Bart’s going ballistic looking for you everywhere else. We have to go! Luthor’s here and he’s pissed.”
“Um,” Tim said intelligently, because he was still firmly knotted in Conner’s lap. “That’s going to be a problem.”
“What?” Cassie said—which was when the door blasted open and everything went to hell.
--
“Your neck,” Bruce Wayne commanded when Tim finally dragged himself back to Gotham and through the Manor doors. He pushed Tim’s head back and looked at the red, hickey-covered expanse with a tight frown.
Tim resisted the urge to wince. Of course he’d worry that Conner had bitten him.
“You guys are getting this all wrong,” he muttered to Dick sulkily once the coast was clear. The family omega had descended upon him once Bruce had stalked off in bristling, alpha-rage. And unlike the Bat, he reacted with appropriate indignity upon discovering his fifteen-year-old adopted brother had lost his virginity to their villain’s clone-baby. “The guy had no idea what he was doing, that’s why it—there was some tearing, but it’s not ‘cause of—”
“It’s not about that. This is just so out of character for you, Timmy,” Dick refused to drop the subject.
“I could have fought him off!”
“He’s Superman’s clone. With no kryptonite on you...” Dick’s lips turned down into a frown, his expression troubled. “Look, there isn’t any shame…”
“Why won’t you listen to me!” Tim snapped, angrier than he should be. Dick just raised a brow at the younger omega’s outburst. “I just—look—I don’t know what came over me, but I wanted it. Like one moment we were tearing into each other and the next he’s got me pressed to the wall and—”
His face flushed red, because what guy wanted to talk about sex with their older brother. It was mortifying.
“And you just spread your legs and let him,” Dick concluded. “Tim, there’s no shame in that either.”
Tim turned his head away and frowned.
Dick ruffled Tim’s hair and said, in a gentle voice, “From what you described, it sounded like you guys were just… very compatible. It happens sometimes if everyone’s adrenaline’s pumping and your pheromones just sync.”
“It just—happens,” Tim couldn’t keep the horror out of his voice. “We can’t stop it?”
“You can, just. It’s hard to break out of once you get going. Even if it isn’t the… wisest thing.”
The older omega fell into a strange, distant silence. Remembering his personal experience with Bruce, no doubt, and then Tim immediately shoved that thought into the recesses of his mind because Dick and Bruce. No.
“I’ll talk to Bruce,” the older omega finally said, because someone had to talk the alpha out of some ridiculous revenge-plot-but-not-a-revenge-plot. “But you’re going to go see Leslie tomorrow, no questions. We don’t want to risk your health.”
“Do you think I’ll see Conner again?” Tim asked tentatively, because he knew most people wouldn't understand. They just saw him as a victim, which Tim could clearly say he was not.
“After Luthor took him who knows where? Or course we will,” Dick sighed. “When has Luthor ever kept himself out of our business?”
--
Ironically enough, the next time Tim met Conner they were nowhere near Luthor’s operations.
They were on a Wayne vacation in Hawaii.
“I am going to sunburn so bad,” he hissed when Dick dragged him to the sandy beaches in nothing but his swim trunks and a towel draped over his shoulders
“C’mon, Timmy,” Dick snapped on a pair of douchey sunglasses onto his face. “I can't be the only one relaxed here. This is a vacation. You’re young! Handsome!” Dick threw a calculating glance at the beach. “And got plenty of fish in the sea to choose from too.”
“Dick!” Tim wailed, mortified in a way only a fifteen-year-old could be. Having his cherry popped didn’t make sex any less embarrassing; especially not after his father had come back early from a business trip and found Dick’s “thoughtful” present on the Drake residence’s doorstep. That fight hadn't been fun, even if the dildo was eventually put to good use.
Not that Dick needed to know that.
The older omega just cackled, hauled a yelping Tim up over his shoulders, and sprinted down the beach. He tossed him unceremoniously into the cold green waters and watched Tim flail his way to the surface.
“Loser’s gotta strip!” Dick called out, and Tim had just enough brain left to think DICK NO before finding himself pushed back down under. He got dunked twice more before finally catching on, and the next time the former Robin tried jumping onto him, he twisted out of the way and let Dick fall face-forward into the water.
“Still three to your one,” Dick grinned when he resurfaced.
Tim opened his mouth to respond when a strange shiver went up his spine.
“Someone’s watching me,” he said, and Dick’s smile immediately dropped.
The older omega swam closer to him, half Bat-family training and half instinct, and narrowed his eyes at something in the distance. “You mean that guy?”
Tim whipped around and immediately saw the culprit floating above a sand dune far away. Floating.
Before he knew it, Dick had shouldered his way past Tim and put himself between the young omega and his unknown stalker. Unconcerned that they'd caught on, the stalker just carelessly floated towards them and took off his sunglasses. Tim’s mouth dropped.
“Conner?” he said, and Dick immediately bristled like an angry Mama bird.
“Heya Tim,” the boy said in a confident drawl he certainly didn’t have the last time they spoke. He was wearing a leather jacket. He had piercings. “And hey…”
“Dick Grayson,” Dick said coolly, now completely hiding Tim behind him. Tim frowned at Dick’s stupid broad back and tried shoving the older omega out of the way, to no avail.
“What are you birds doing bunking in Hawaii?” Conner said conversationally. He crossed his legs midair and grinned down at them. “Wait, lemme guess—vacation?”
“No,” Dick said, the same moment Tim said, “Yes.”
“Look dude, we’re just trying to talk,” Conner told the older omega. This seemed to be the last straw, because Dick just crossed his arms and adopted his best immovable, stubborn Nightwing glower. Tim resisted the urge to groan.
“If you think I’m going to let you just talk to him after what you did last time—”
“Seriously?” Conner looked taken aback. “I’d just woken up from a chamber, animal instincts—”
“You tore him up!”
At this, the alpha grimaced. “Okay, that was my bad. I’m a lot better now, though.”
“Oh, you’ve been having sex with a lot of omegas then,” Tim snapped at him, all desire to shove Dick out of the way gone. It was stupid. Tim hadn’t bedded anyone else since, but he shouldn't have assumed Conner was going to extend the same courtesy to him.
The boy had the nerve to seem startled at Tim’s sudden mood-shift, and even floated after him when he turned away and stomped up the beach. Dick trailed behind at a tactful distance, but still close enough to launch himself at the alpha if he tried anything funny.
“Tim,” Conner said. Tim felt something tug on his trunks—definitely not a hand—and whipped around to point a finger at the Kryptonian clone.
“Stop acting so friendly,” he said in a low tone. “We don’t know each other. We barely talked. So just stay away.”
“Why are you mad,” Conner just complained, and Tim snarled and stole the sunglasses off of his head. “Hey!”
“Don’t talk to me,” Tim snapped. He sidled up to Dick and slipped the stolen sunglasses onto his face. They were a bit too big, but were otherwise wearable. “C’mon Dick, let’s go.”
“Sure, Tim,” Dick said and wrapped an arm around the younger boy’s shoulders. Tim let himself be led back towards the hotel, and was both gratified and strangely upset that Conner didn’t follow them.
--
Tim had made his point clear. He wasn’t going to take any shit.
So he wasn’t quite sure how they went from that to this.
“You taste as good as I remember,” Conner groaned as he squeezed Tim’s ass. He spread the boy’s cheeks open and lapped at his hole, unabashedly eager even as Tim gasped and seemed caught between squirming away and pressing closer.
“Shit—Kon,” the omega whined, and shivered when the other boy just laughed and sank his teeth into an ass cheek.
“I am a lot better, ain’t I?” He kissed Tim’s soaked entrance again before hauling himself up and turning the omega’s head so he could press their mouths together. Tim felt downright indecent the way he just opened up and licked the taste of his own slick out of the alpha’s mouth. It was worse than his heat, because he still had enough upper brain function to know what he was doing was a bad idea.
Even as he kept doing it.
“Kon,” Tim whimpered again. Conner seemed to like him shortening his name, given the way the alpha purred and licked down his neck. Tim kicked off his pants and let the other boy hook his leg over a shoulder and press his fingers into his wet heat. “I want—Kon, I want it deeper—”
“Let me hear you, Timmy,” Conner said, nipping hard at his chin, his ear, the top of his neck. “Been jerking off to your sounds for months. Lemme hear you again.”
“No,” Tim said petulantly, but then moaned when Conner slipped slick-soaked fingers out of him. Moaned again when Conner freed his straining erection from his fly and pressed its tip to his entrance.
“Oh,” Tim inhaled sharply when the alpha pushed inside. He put a hand around Kon’s waist and felt the muscle there flex as they slotted fully together. Breathed shallowly at how strange it felt as his channel accommodated the alpha. Deep, burning hot and full.
And then Conner just grabbed Tim by the waist and fucked him hard against the sitting room couch.
“Kon,” Tim yelped. He clung to the alpha’s shoulders and breathed sharply as the he ruthlessly pulled back and shoved into him again. “Kon—ah—slow down, you’re always—ah—”
“Always what, Tim?” Conner kissed him as hard as he fucked, and soon the only sounds were the rustling of their suits, the wet slapping of Kon’s balls against his ass, the sloppy noise of their mouths moving together.
Tim’s thighs were trembling, his entire body taunt, when he felt the hot pressure of Kon’s knot against his entrance. Before the alpha could pop it in, he reached down and squeezed it. Conner yelped.
“Tim,” the alpha pled, but Tim hadn’t completely lost his mind.
“Not getting stuck tied to you again,” Tim hissed. “Not when—hn—not when Dick’s coming back in fifteen minutes tops.”
“He’ll chop my balls off,” Conner reluctantly agreed, and went back to rocking into him. Carefully, though, so his knot slowly ground circles against Tim’s entrance rather than squeezed inside it. “That any better, Timmy?”
“Yes,” Tim could feel himself starting to seize up, because the slick pressure inside and outside was just on the edge of too much. “Yes—ah—ah!”
“The best noises,” Conner groaned Tim spilled between them with a gasp. The omega whined as Kon thrust into him for another minute or so before pulling out and spilling obscene amounts of come onto the royal red of the couch. God, were they going to get in trouble later.
“Tim,” Kon fell on top of the heaving omega when he finally finished. He kissed Tim’s face. “Tim, Tim…”
“Your cock’s still hanging out of your fly,” Tim told him, because the image of it was absurd. The handsome alpha in all his dark-haired glory, dressed in a million’s dollar-worth custom suit looking debauched as hell. Red cheeks, rumpled shirt. Covered from head to toe except for the aforementioned dick hanging out.
“Tuck me back in?” Kon nuzzled his face.
“Ew, no,” Tim shoved him over lightly, too satiated to punch Conner in the face like he should.
Because Conner wasn’t even supposed to be at this god-awful gala Bruce had forced them all to attend. They didn’t even have a mission—Bruce was intentionally boring himself for the sake of boring himself. Dick went to fetch a glass of champagne and Bruce had started talking business with some investor or whatever and Tim had sulked behind a pillar.
All of which they could’ve done in Gotham, not Hawaii, and after twenty minutes Tim realized Dick had probably snuck off to the bar across the street to get himself drunk on something tropical.
Traitor.
And then he’d literally crashed into Conner in the cheesiest move in the book: getting red wine all over his second-best suit and glowering at the alpha who insisted on accompanying him to the restroom to wash it out.
“You can’t wash this out,” he’d hissed as the alpha corralled him into the hall. “It’ll have to be dry cleaned.”
“Y’know, I sometimes think you’re being dull on purpose,” Conner had told him, and then put a possessive hand right on Tim’s ass. Rather than shove him away—because Tim was still upset from earlier—the omega shivered instead. Shivered even harder when Kon moved his hand down and cupped him between the legs and…
And then he’d shoved Tim into the nearest sitting room and gracelessly slung him over the couch arm. He’d yanked his pants down and pressed his tongue to Tim’s ass—
And now they were here.
“Mum doesn’t want me talking to you,” Conner told him conversationally, still un-tucked and lying millimeters away from a drying come-stain. Tim made a face. “He doesn’t think you’re a good influence.”
“You mean he thinks I’m not a bad enough influence,” Tim snorted. “And Luthor’s not your Mum.”
Conner blinked owlishly. “Of course he is,” he said, almost indignant. “He smells like me. And it’s why he’s kept me with him…” and Conner looked the tiniest bit abashed. “…even if I’m a failure.”
“A failure?” Tim frowned. “What does that even mean?”
Conner’s expression turned serious, in a surprising imitation of the one he wore during their first encounter. Tim’s heartbeat sped up. It was illogical, but he liked seeing this reminder that Kon was still the same.
Conner sat up and tucked himself back into his pants. After a brief pause, he chose to lean over and kiss Tim on the mouth.
It was surprisingly soft for a guy Tim had literally done nothing but fuck twice.
“I’m my own person,” Kon said when they parted. “A blessing and a curse.”
And then he flew out of the window like Peter Pan—leaving Tim to deal with the come-stained couch, that fucking bastard.
See if Tim was going to put out the next time. If there was a next time.
Dick was going to be so disappointed in him later.
--
“Tim,” Dick had said, shamelessly drinking a Pineapple Martini while tapping the little paper umbrella against Tim’s scalp. “Tim, Tim, Tim…”
“Can you not,” Tim hissed, because a half-drunk Dick was an unpredictable bag of party tricks that ranged from painfully embarrassing (for himself) and painfully embarrassing (for everyone else.)
Unfortunately for Tim, Dick seemed to be caught in the “everyone else” category today.
“Y’know, if you don’t want Bruce to castrate your boy, you should bring him over for dinner,” Dick told him, and Tim smacked the paper umbrella away from his face. “Maybe he’ll even leave one ball intact rather than taking them both.”
“Dick, behave yourself,” the Bat suddenly appeared out of nowhere, looking no worse for wear despite spending several hours rubbing elbows with the sharks. He wrapped an arm around Dick’s trim waist, and the older omega immediately cuddled up against him. Tim froze when the Bat’s gaze fell on him. When Bruce conspicuously sniffed.
“Tim,” Bruce growled, and Tim adjusted the still-stained lapels of his suit. “Where is he?”
“Not here!” Tim yelped, and was half-gratified, half-mortified when Dick turned his “embarrassing everyone else” magic to the family alpha and nuzzled Bruce’s neck. The Bat’s attention successfully diverted—as Bruce decided to save face and haul Dick to the nearest cab before the omega began peeling his suit off—Tim took the opportunity to flee.
Like come on, it was Hawaii in the summer and the island wasn’t that big. And he’d rather walk off the cloying scent of his and Conner’s sex than sit in a cab with a grabby-hands Dick flirting with Bruce for ten minutes.
He’s already had enough trauma in his lifetime, especially after his father’s insulting protect-the-omega rant. Thank god Dana had convinced Jack Drake to not send him to an omega-only boarding school across the country. That would make being Robin a thousand times more difficult.
And being Robin was so important to Tim, he wasn’t sure what he’d do if his father took that away from him.
--
The third time they met, it was under far less scandalous circumstances. Or more scandalous. Tim couldn’t tell.
Because Conner’s drama overtook his for once. Luthor and Clark came to blows once again, and Kon saw his father for the first time. Saw the Man of Steel in action and realized no matter how much he loved his mother, that he and Luthor would never see eye-to-eye on their moral codes.
Unfortunately, his defection from Luthor’s side wasn’t exactly met with open arms from Superman’s.
“He won’t even talk to me,” Conner muttered, sitting dejectedly in his new apartment in Metropolis. Tim—who Bruce had contacted after Clark had contacted him in a panic because The Clone just moved to my city, Bruce, what do I do?—just finished putting together the TV stand and went on to figure out the ridiculous nine-shelf bookcase.
Seriously Luthor, what the hell was a brawns-not-brain guy like Conner going to do with a nine-shelf bookcase.
Tim couldn’t help but think how this was the longest time the two of them had spent together without Kon’s cock ending up in his ass. He found the whole experience… refreshing. Especially when Conner insisted he take him to get a haircut.
“Dad says my hair’s not respectable,” Conner muttered when Tim had asked, and he wasn’t touching that topic with a ten-foot pole. He hailed a cab and crammed Conner inside, even as the Superboy complained loudly that he could just fly them to the salon, why did they need to spend money on transportation.
“Because Metropolis isn’t Hawaii,” Tim told him, buckling himself in. Conner, being nigh indestructible, just crossed his arms and ignored his own seat belt. “You’ll attract too much attention just flying about, especially in Clark’s territory.”
“And whatever I do’ll reflect badly on him,” Conner sneered. He glared out the cab window. “I know what he thinks of me, alright?”
“That’s not it,” Tim tried to argue, but the alpha was having none of it.
They didn’t speak again until Conner plopped himself down in the stylist’s chair and stared blankly at the magazines.
“What’s respectable,” he shook the pages at Tim, who sighed and went to go help the alpha. Unfortunately, this meant he had to put up with the beta stylist’s knowing smile as he combed Conner’s hair back with his fingers.
“What a hunk,” she winked at him when Conner had finally settled on a simple short hairdo. He was finally getting rid of that messy undercut and swept-bangs, thank god. “I’d be so jealous if I could take an alpha mauling.”
“We’re not,” Tim said stiffly, but then Conner started growling when the girl’s fingers touched his ears and Tim had to squeeze his hands so they didn’t get arrested for assault. It was like dealing with a toddler. A fifteen-ish-years-old toddler who could fell a building with just his fists.
They got through the haircut and a very brief shopping excursion without incident, though Conner kept yanking Tim close when an alpha walked by. Tim smacked his hand away when he could, and suffered stiffly when he couldn’t. By the time they were done, the other boy had worked himself into such a mood Tim couldn’t force him back into a cab if he tried.
“Everyone stares at you,” Conner growled as he swept Tim into his arms and shot up into the air. “I don’t like it.”
Tim rolled his eyes. “They’re not staring at me, Kon, they’re staring at you.”
“They’re not.”
“Uh, yes they are. You’re a hunk, Kon. I’m just… I’m just me. Nothing special.”
“What,” Conner said, almost offended, and then dropped Tim unceremoniously through the window of his new apartment. Tim yelped but rolled into his landing. Kon floated inside after him and flopped onto the couch.
The nerve.
Tim, having tiredly chaperoned this hotheaded half-alien around all afternoon and been rewarded with this, strolled over and sat on Kon’s chest in retaliation.
“It’ll get better,” he eventually informed the boy, who continued to pout. Apparently Tim was light as a feather, because Kon showed no difficulty breathing under Tim’s full weight. “With Clark, I mean. He and Luthor have had this enemy-thing going on for years. He’s not mad at you, he’s mad at Luthor for taking his DNA and crafting a love baby. He’ll get over himself once he gets to know you.”
Conner scoffed and wrapped strong arms around Tim’s waist. “Rather get to know you.” He nuzzled his hip in an obvious request, and Tim actually found himself charmed rather than annoyed.
“Fucking me isn’t actually a way of getting to know me,” he informed him.
“Of course it is,” Conner tugged him down so Tim was lying down on top of him, chest to chest. “Getting to know what makes you feel good.”
“You are so corny,” Tim burst out laughing. He let Conner tug his pants off anyway, despite all rationale telling him that this wasn’t a good idea. Not at all. But he wanted to, and Kon clearly enjoyed it, and it was easier to give in than to fight… whatever this was.
Later, as they lay naked and actually cuddling on the couch—the world was going to end—Tim finally asked a question he'd been thinking of all day, “I can’t believe Luthor’s paying for your apartment. Aren’t you guys fighting?”
Conner grunted. “Mum’s convinced I’ll go back to him eventually. Trying to sweeten the deal with all this.” He waved around the room. “And Dad’s not raising a finger to help at all, so I was like. Why not.”
“Be careful,” Tim warned, running his fingers through Kon’s newly cropped hair.
He was surprised when Conner just snorted. “He’s my mum, Tim. I’ll be fine.”
Tim wondered where Kon got this self-confidence from. Even after Luthor had made his moral position clear; even after Kon had chosen to follow Clark, the parent who tried his damn hardest to pretend the clone didn’t exist.
Even after all that, Kon still loved Luthor. It was baffling.
--
(“I didn’t ask to be created!” Kon screamed after the umpteenth time Superman had ignored him. The Teen Titans had been called to assist in yet another mission to thwart Luthor’s plots, and Tim hadn’t been surprised to see the Man of Steel zooming about in the skies.
He was surprised to see Conner though, who’d appeared mid-battle and tried helping Clark out. The other alpha had snarled at him angrily and Kon’s temper finally seemed to get the better of him.
“I’m here! I exist!” Conner flew right up into Clark’s space, practically bristling with aggression. “I’m not going to just go away, and if you can’t deal with that than that’s your problem! Sometimes I think Mum was completely right about you.”
And then he was flying off, leaving the Teen Titans and Clark gaping after him in his wake.
“Clark,” Tim said when the Kryptonian landed onto their shared rooftop once the mission was over.
Clark held up a hand. “Batman’s already scolded me, Robin.”
“Then do something about it,” Tim snapped. He definitely wouldn’t have talked so frankly if Conner’s anger hadn’t sparked something inside of him. “Conner’s a good guy. Angry, yeah, and he sometimes doesn’t know how the world works. But at the heart of it, he’s got your morals and not Luthor’s. He’s one of us.”
Clark gave him a startled look. “Tim…”
But Tim, having just realized he was scolding Superman, just shot a line out across the street and swung himself away. Superman could have chased after him easily, but the man had too many problems to mull over.
Tim did too, for different reasons. Kon needed a pack before Luthor dragged him back under his wing again, and Tim lost him for good.
I’m here! I exist, the boy had screamed, and Tim felt a sharp pang of guilt. Kon couldn’t join into a unrelated pack without an omega’s approval; until Clark got his head out of his ass, Kon’s acceptance in the superhero community rested entirely on Tim’s shoulders. Tim, who’d dropped the ball.
Conner’s a good guy, he’d just scolded Clark. Words he should’ve used to scold himself.)
--
And now, a couple years after the day Tim had clasped Kon’s hand and finally invited him to join the other titans—this happened.
--
The most baffling thing was, Lex Luthor actually did love Kon.
Why else would he let the Teen fucking Titans waltz into his secret, totally-not-Lexcorp laboratory where he’d been hiding Kon away for two weeks. Not for the Titan’s lack of trying to find him—Tim had been on the cusp of tossing away dignity and clawing at Luthor’s door, because hadn’t he already lost enough?
His parents, his home. Not his alpha, too.
And then Lex Luthor had finally sent them an invite to see Kon. It seemed a bit insensitive, as the last time they'd seen him the boy had been dead.
“Not dead,” Luthor said in a far too even voice, given the circumstances. “But very close to it. I had my men put him in a regenerative chamber…”
“So he’s alive?” Cassie said, immediately looking around like Kon was going to just pop out of nowhere. Despite Superboy’s long list of powers, teleportation was sadly not one of them.
Luthor’s expression cooled. “He is… alive, yes, but the regeneration process had more side effects than I’d envisioned.”
Tim had hung around the Batman enough to know that side effects was a gentle way to say something went really, really wrong. “What kind of side effects?”
Luthor pursed his lips. “It’s probably best to show you.”
--
Kon-El looked as if he was simply sleeping in the stasis chamber.
Tim felt his breath catch, because this was nothing like the broken, bleeding body of his alpha after Superboy-Prime had pulverized him. This was Kon as he remembered him. His body whole, his skin unblemished.
He touched the glass with a hand.
And suddenly Kon’s eyes flicked open, and he snapped forward with a loud, animalistic snarl.
“Conner, that is enough,” Luthor stepped forward and shoved Tim out of the way. The younger omega would’ve taken more offense if he hadn’t been staring at Kon in horror, because there was no recognition in those wild blue eyes. Kon was like a wild animal scrabbling against the glass like he could claw his former teammate’s faces off.
Luthor tapped the glass. The raging boy inside focused on his mother’s face and—and notably deflated. Stopped snarling and just stood docilely as Luthor stroked the glass between them. “It’s okay, Conner.”
Kon let out a curious growl, which was when Tim knew definitively that things had indeed gone very, very wrong.
--
“Absolutely not,” Bruce Wayne’s voice was flat over the line. Tim paced in front of the computer, hands held tight by his sides.
“Bruce, there’s no other choice.”
“Luthor could be simply seeking to mine us for data. Who knows what kind of plans he has in store.”
“Kon’s his son, Bruce!” Tim shouted at the communicator. Thank god Bruce couldn’t see his face, because distraught and panicked were the exact opposite emotions Robin should have. “And I looked at the medical reports and it’s bad. Even with the Kryptonian blood. We have to get to that planet—the one with the Healing Springs—”
“Which I have no problems with,” Bruce said testily. “But I will not allow Luthor to board the spacecraft alongside you. There is too much room for error there. Too much for the JLA to lose.”
“Kon will only listen to him,” Tim said. “Trust me, I don’t want to spend a month in space with Lex Luthor either.”
Bruce was silent. Tim wanted to reach into the computer and strangle his family alpha, because couldn’t he see how much this meant to Tim? How much Tim would sacrifice for his alpha, a sentiment he knew Bruce recognized because what else has Dick been doing for the last decade.
“If Kon has indeed reverted back to a savage state,” Bruce finally said. “Then he should listen to you, too.”
“When he saw me though…”
“But he didn’t scent you, did he?” Bruce sounded like he’d rather be talking about anything else than this. Well tough. Bruce had had years to get over his bristling overprotective Daddy Bat instincts, and Tim wasn’t going to cower like he was fifteen again.
“He didn’t,” Tim confirmed, but his own mind was racing. Kon was docile with Luthor because he recognized the omega as his mother. Following that same logic, he should respond positively to Tim as well.
Even without a bite.
He put a hand over his neck and felt regret well up bitter on his tongue. How many times had he stopped Kon from sinking his alpha teeth into his skin? And for what? A fear of losing control, a fear of indignity. All petty excuses, all things considered.
“I’ll ask Luthor about it,” Tim finally said. “But he won’t be happy.”
“He doesn’t have a choice,” Bruce responded flatly, and disconnected.
--
Luthor was predictably unhappy.
“If you think I’m going to leave my son in the hands of some whelp—”
“If you think we’re going to let a technological megalomaniac onto sensitive JLA property—” Tim argued back, and they could have gone on and on like that if Kon hadn’t suddenly rammed through his double-barricaded bedroom door and tackled Cassie onto the ground.
“Conner!” Luthor started forward when Kon wrestled with the surprised but equally angry alpha girl, but Tim was closer.
“Kon!” he threw himself on top the boy and felt Kon’s entire body seize below him. He half expected the boy to buck him off and smash his face into the nearest wall, but then suddenly found himself flipped onto his back.
The feral alpha dipped his face into the crook of his neck and snuffled, and god. Even without a bite, the boy recognized him. Tim tentatively ran his hands down the boy’s thick arms while Kon crooned, and couldn’t help the tears that welled up in his eyes.
“Kon,” he whispered, dropping his hands down to cradle his alpha’s face. Kon let out a low growl and nipped lightly at his chin, which for a rough-and-tumble guy like Kon was more of a kiss than anything. Tim wound both arms around Kon’s neck and glanced past his tears to see the rest of the Titans looking down at him.
“Woo-hoo,” Cassie coughed, rubbing at a Superboy-sized bruise on her arm. “Looks like Tim’s a Kon-whisperer too.”
“Luthor,” Tim said, getting to the heart of the matter. He cradled the back of Kon’s head to his chest and looked the other omega in the eye.
The man stood by the edge of the hallway, mouth pursed in obvious disapproval. But Tim—Tim knew better than to bow down under that glare. And Bruce was right in this. Luthor had no other choice.
Not if he wanted Conner back to normal.
“You bring my boy back, Drake,” he said through gritted teeth. “Or I’ll make you regret the day you were born.”
“Noted,” Tim drawled, and stroked Kon’s dark hair with a hand that he barely, just barely, kept from trembling.
--
He didn’t know what he’d do if he couldn’t bring Kon back either.