Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/7517455.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Young_Justice_(Cartoon), Batman_-_All_Media_Types
  Relationship:
      Tim_Drake/Kon-El_|_Conner_Kent, Dick_Grayson/Bruce_Wayne
  Character:
      Tim_Drake, Kon-El_|_Conner_Kent, Dick_Grayson, Bruce_Wayne, Lex_Luthor,
      Teen_Titans_-_Character
  Additional Tags:
      Mating_Cycles/In_Heat, Alpha/Beta/Omega_Dynamics, Dubious_Consent, Rough
      Sex, Fuck_Or_Die, Feral_Behavior, Humor, Crack, Porn, with_minimal_plot,
      Awkward_Conversations, Awkward_Sex, because_of_first_times, Horny
      Teenagers, Past_Underage, the_brudick_thing, Dick_being_Tim's_big_bro,
      Bat_Family, in_the_epilogue, Protective_Parents, Hurt/Comfort, tim_was
      fifteen_when_it_all_started, Alternate_Universe, comics_and_cartoons
      shamelessly_mixed_together
  Series:
      Part 3 of Mamabird_Universe
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-07-18 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 14084
****** the honesty in your body ******
by Laroyena
Summary
     Luthor's tech saved Kon's life at the cost of his mind. Tim must take
     a feral Kon across space to restore his humanity... which is just as
     difficult as one may think.
     (Batman Omegaverse AU: unabashed TimKon porn detailing their original
     get-together in their early teens to their definite get-together in
     their late teens. But mostly porn.)
Notes
     Chapter 1 is their get-together; Chapter 2 is the space adventure.
     This work, like my other DCU works, shamelessly cuts and pastes
     events from different universes and in the wrong order. Deep
     apologies in advance. The most obvious one is that the Superboy Prime
     event and Kon's "death" happened shortly before Damian came to
     Gotham, when in the comics the events were years apart. This is
     mostly due to trying to fit this story into the rest of the Mamabird
     universe. It helps to read the first fic, but tl:dr Dick is Damian's
     mother whom Talia had kidnapped as a baby. Dick thought Damian was
     dead. Bruce didn't know Damian existed. Drama was had.
     This fic spun off from the convenient excuse that Tim was off in
     space with Kon and was therefore not present for the ensuing shit
     show. This was what Tim was doing.
     Also Luthor is much less of an asshole in this 'verse, leaning more
     towards the "good/decent parent" Luthor that appears in some Superboy
     variations. And this Superboy was mostly inspired by the YJ one (the
     one I know best) because that one feral!superboy episode gave me lots
     of PWP ideas... though undercut!Conner makes an a brief appearance as
     well.
***** the beginning *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
“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—”
“Than 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 banging 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 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
notsend 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 girl
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 youthink 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.
 
Chapter End Notes
     Split in two (the world is ending!) because the tone of this story is
     easily two parted. I usually don't split anything because then it'd
     be like ten 2k chapters and I don't like chapters that are too short
     OTL
***** and the start of another beginning *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The journey to the correct planet would take a week to arrive and another week
to return. The other Titans clamored to go along with them, but Tim put his
foot down at once.
“No,” he pointed at his teammates’ disappointed faces. “We can’t all leave the
Watchtower unguarded. The JLA will definitely need the Titans these next few
weeks, and it’ll be bad enough I’m gone.”
Cassie crossed her arms and looked uncomfortable. “I mean yeah, Tim, I get your
point, but what if…”
Tim cast her a questioning look.
Cassie exchanged uneasy glances with the other Titans and turned back to Tim.
“What if this, uh, this caveman Kon… forces you?”
Tim flushed at her implication. “That won’t happen.”
“Dude, it could totally happen,” Beast Boy said flatly. “And you’re a spitfire,
Tim, no question, but Kon’s a Kryptonian Alpha. If he gets the upper hand…”
“I’ll be fine,” Tim said.
“…he could bite you, Tim,” Cassie overrode him loudly. “What if that happens!”
Tim held his ground. “Then I’ll deal with it. Guys, Kon and I… you know we’ve
been kind of together for years. Don’t worry about me.”
“But…”
“Oh, let him go,” Blue Beetle said, waving a hand. He activated his wings and
flew into the air. “It’s his choice to bunk with el Superboy loco, and it’s not
like the rest of us could do much to help anyway.”
“I could pound his face in,” Cassie offered, but from her tone Tim knew she’s
already been defeated. Beast Boy swished his tail with a frown. Tim sighed.
Kon, who had been relatively docile in his chamber, bared his teeth at his
former teammates. Cassie snarled back. Tim resisted the urge to smack them both
upside the head. He only hoped Dick—and Wally, who’d also agreed to babysit the
Titans—weren’t too hard on his rowdy teammates while the two of them were gone.
He winced. Yeah, and pigs will fly.
--
Tim kept Kon in the glass container all throughout the systems check, take off,
and then another systems check once they were out of the Watchtower’s orbit.
The alpha snarled and roared and fought against his confines, but there was no
way Tim was letting him out until their autopilot was up and running. Not with
Kon’s temper and strength and his habit of pushing Tim against the nearest
surface and spreading his legs apart.
“Four days of communication,” Batman said over the comms. “Then you’ll be out
of the Watchtower’s range for the next three. Be careful, Robin. And send word
once you’re on your way back and in range again.”
“Gotcha B,” Tim said and signed off. Instead of approaching Kon immediately, he
reviewed some of the readings from his and Bruce's last case just because he
could.
When the boy’s growling began to pick up volume, Tim swiveled around in his
chair.
“You keep growling like that, I’m not letting you out,” he informed his feral
alpha like the boy could understand him. Tim was positive he could.
Kon immediately quieted, which proved his point. Tim walked right up to the
glass and marveled at the alpha breathing raggedly inside. God. God, it was
surreal seeing Kon alive and whole in body if not in mind. His hands trembled,
because this desperation ran both ways. He wanted Kon in his arms again.
Taking a deep breath, Tim clicked open the glass pod and braced himself.
Kon barreled into him and pinned him to the floor before he could blink. He
snuffled against Tim’s face, his neck, and then dragged his teeth up his
jugular and bit his earlobe like it was his goddamn right. Tim sniffed and
buried his face into Kon’s shoulder. Clung to that familiar, wild alpha scent
he thought he’d never get to enjoy again.
“Kon,” he sobbed, pressing wet eyes to the boy’s neck. The alpha immediately
tucked him under his chest like he could shield Tim from whatever was hurting
him. Except the pain was internal, and Kon seemed baffled that his efforts
weren’t stopping the omega’s tears. “Kon, god, you left. You goddamn bastard,
you left me, you left.”
Kon crooned in concern. He ran large, rough hands down Tim’s chest like he was
trying to soothe him, and Tim spread his legs once the boy’s hands reached his
hips. He wanted Kon inside him—he wanted to feel his alpha close, the thud of
his heartbeat through his cock, knowing with every breath that he was aliveand
here.
“Yes,” he mewled when Kon moved down his body and tugged down the waistline of
his pants. Nuzzled his growing erection and licked up Tim’s clothed dick. “Yes,
Kon, please—”
He gasped in pleasure when the alpha gave him what he wanted by pulling down
Tim’s briefs and taking the tip of his cock into his mouth. Suckling its head
in an uncharacteristically gentle way and stroking Tim’s trembling thighs. It
was sloppy and uncoordinated and definitely not the best blowjob in the world,
but Tim didn’t care. He gently thrust into Kon’s warm mouth and moaned when Kon
tongued his slit. Trembled when the alpha took him completely inside,
swallowing him down to the root and—
“Kon,” he pushed the boy’s head back, chest heaving. The other boy let his cock
go with a reluctant pop, but was immediately distracted when Tim turned over
onto his hands and knees and shoved his pants down past his bare ass. Kon was
on him immediately, thick chest pressed to Tim’s back and mouth biting hard
into his shoulder.
“Want you inside,” Tim whined, because Kon could barely resist him presenting
like this even when he was in his right mind. A feral Kon had no chance. “C’mon
big guy, come on—”
The alpha growled and lifted Tim into his lap. Tim hissed when he felt the
alpha’s blunt cockhead pressing past his rim, and then Kon was shoving right
into him. It hurt, the stretch too sudden, but Tim didn’t care. The way Kon
just clamped his teeth into his shoulder and began to roughly fuck into him,
powerful hips slamming them together and the omega scrabbling against the ship
floor, was perfect. The way he clutched Tim’s belly and pressed their torsos
close as he moved, so Tim could feel the assurance of Kon’s heartbeat against
his back, was perfect.
“Kon,” he whispered, forehead pressed to the metal floor. He was burning,
floating, being penetrated deep enough that his insides were being hollowed
out. And then Kon shoved his swelling knot into him, its girth settling like a
rock within his entrance, and this was.
This was.
He cried softly, even after Kon shifted them onto their sides and nuzzled his
neck. 
“Tim,” Kon said, the first word Tim had heard him say since Luthor had showed
him the charts mapping out the damage to Kon’s human DNA. Kon licked his cheek
and ran his hands up to Tim’s chest. “Tim?”
The omega grabbed his hand and pressed it to his left breast. Kon’s hand was so
warm against his heart. Reassuring. More tears ran down his face.
“Come back, Kon,” Tim sobbed, voice muffled with tears. Kon bit his ear and
kissed his chin. He pressed his face into Tim’s neck and continued to grind his
cock inside of him, steady and strong and in time with their heartbeats. “Kon,
please.”
“Tim,” Kon breathed again, and turned the boy around so they were face-to-face.
Kissed his eyes and stroked his face. “Tim, Tim.”
Tim hiccupped and came weakly, almost as an afterthought. Kon spread his come
curiously between their bellies before drawing his attention back to his crying
mate. Tim wrapped his arms around Kon’s thick neck and buried his face into his
chest. Breathed the boy in. Felt the boy around him, inside him, here, and
desperately believed.
--
 
Kon’s mate was gorgeous.
He could barely believe this beautiful omega could have chosen him, but one
whiff of the boy’s scent and he’d known the boy was his. He fit into his arms
like he was made to be there, and he made the sweetest noises when Kon showered
him with affection during and after mating.
But sometimes, for a reason Kon couldn’t figure out, his mate became upset.
It was impossible to console him like this, not even by offering to mount him
in a gentler way. Kon loved feeling the omega squeezing tightly around his
cock, but he was aware of the discomfort this sometimes caused. He could be
gentle. He could be good. He stroked the smooth skin of his mate’s belly,
admiring the tight muscle there. Muscle that opened up around him when Kon
licked between his legs, but when he pressed his hard cock to his mate’s hip
the boy moved away.
“No, Kon,” his mate sniffed. Kon growled. His mate smacked his nose, and Kon
frowned indignantly. “Sleep.”
“Tim,” Kon insisted, patting the omega’s hip. Tim still refused him. Kon
settled down unhappily. He wanted to love his mate. All the time. Every day.
But sometimes when his Tim was upset, it was impossible.
“Tim?” Kon said again, but the boy was breathing evenly with sleep. Frustration
gave way to endearment. Cute. Kon stroked the boy’s dark hair and pressed his
mouth to his jaw line. Licked and kissed until Tim wrinkled his nose and batted
Kon’s face away.
So Kon rolled out of their nest and walked around their floating home.
When Kon had first awoken, he’d been trapped inside a large white space with
strangers poking and prodding him. He would’ve attacked if his mother hadn’t
come to soothe his brow, which was when he knew he was safe.
And then his mother had passed him onto his Tim, who was his mate, and then his
Tim had put him on a floating house and now they were here, alone. Floating.
Alone until the dark creature on the screen appeared, like he did the moment
Kon walked into Tim’s favorite room.
“Conner,” the dark creature said. Kon ignored him.
Kon dug through some strange rope and plastic bags and finally found the red
and yellow box with the salty bits his Tim liked. He then tried putting
everything back into the box he'd gotten them from, because Tim didn’t like it
when he made a mess. He’d probably frown and tell Kon to stay out of the
control room again, and if Kon protested too much he’d get locked up in the
glass case.
He hated the glass case.
“Conner,” the dark creature kept speaking. “Tim was supposed to check in half
an hour ago.”
Kon shoved the last of the strange ropes into the hole and finally looked at
the dark creature that lived in the giant screen. He said, “He’s sleeping.”
“Why is he sleeping?” the dark creature frowned in a way Kon suspected he was
supposed to be scared of. Except the creature lived in the screen and couldn’t
reach out and actually hurt Kon, so Kon remained unimpressed. “Is he feeling
alright?”
Kon frowned at him.
The dark creature sighed. “I see your vocabulary’s getting better. The
Kryptonian blood’s starting to reverse the cellular breakdown to your human
DNA, though at what consequence we can’t tell. The springs are still the best
chance to heal any damage caused by the regeneration chamber.”
“Tim’s sleeping,” Kon repeated, and ignored the dark creature’s glare when he
leaned forward and pressed the button that would send the creature back into
its abyss.
Then he took the red and yellow box and brought it back to the nest.
Tim was lying in the same exact position he was in when Kon left. Kon put the
box on the table beside the bed and crawled under the covers. It hurt to dig
deep into his tired brain and identify these objects. Easier to not think too
hard about it, even if it caused Tim to give him those sad, disappointed looks.
“Where’dya go,” Tim snuffled when Kon wriggled into his arms. He didn’t move
away when Kon tangled their legs together and pressed his erection between his
thighs, but he made no move to do anything about it either. That was okay. Kon
liked how warm it was. How the boy cuddled closer to him and squeezed around
him.
Kon wanted to ignore his mate’s words, except the omega said: “Kon, don’t
ignore me.”
Wondering if his Tim understood the great sacrifices he made to appease him,
Kon forced himself through the pain of his stupid, scrambled brain and managed:
“Batman called.”
Tim froze. Kon tried soothing his back with a large hand, but Tim just sat up
with an alarmed look on his face. “Shit, shit, I totally forgot. Was he angry?
I need to call him back.”
“Sleep,” Kon insisted, but Tim ignored him as usual. He tugged on some boxers
and a large black shirt with an ‘S’ on it—Kon’s symbol, the not-stupid part of
his brain tried to tell him—and stumbled out of their room.
Kon sighed and lay back down on the covers. Pressed his face into Tim’s pillow
and breathed in that familiar omega scent until he started growling low in his
throat. His cock throbbed painfully, like it’d been doing more and more often
since reuniting with his mate. He whined—couldn’t Tim see how much he needed to
sink inside him? How much Kon ached to feel him falling apart in his arms, to
pleasure him, to love him?
He wrapped a hand around his shaft and thrust into his fist, imagining it was
his Tim clenching around him. Tight and wet and so hot Kon always felt like he
was melting, making the absolute best noises as they fucked.
“Kon,” Tim would moan ever so sweetly. Bat his deep blue eyes at him and
squeeze him so tight Kon would groan. “Kon, I want more.”
Kon let out a grunt as he came all over his hands. Stroked his knot as he
spilled onto his own stomach, his chest, and heaved a deep sigh at the pleasure
of it. Not enough to satiate him, though, given the still half-hard state of
his cock. Nothing felt like enough.
Kon rolled himself in the blankets and hoped the smell of him and his seed
could convince Tim to spread his legs once he returned. Convince him that Kon
could love him thoroughly, completely, so much so he never had to look so upset
again.
--
By the third day they were on the floating house, Kon’s constant arousal had
turned painful. Incredibly painful, to the point where he roared and upended
the nest and clawed at the door hard enough to leave finger-sized dents in the
metal.
Tim locked him up in the case.
“Tim,” Kon whined pathetically, face pressed to the glass as his mate cruelly,
cruelly ignored him in favor of playing with his weird little gadgets. “Tim,
Tim, Tim—”
“Shush,” Tim told him, unrepentant, and refused to turn around even when Kon
snapped and threw himself bodily against the glass. As this was specially-
designed Lexcorp-patented glass intended to hold the Man of Steel himself, he
made no headway. Just enough loud, thunking noises that only managed to annoy
the omega after a grand total of thirty minutes.
“Kon, you’re in rut,” Tim shook a paper at him, like Kon gave a damn what a
piece of paper covered in numbers said. “A bad rut, I’ve never seen one like
this, and I think your body’s trying to restart itself so it can repair the—the
brain damage. It’s why your vocabulary improved while you were around me. But
there’s also a chance you can die if the rut gets bad enough, so please let me
synthesize a suppressant that will alleviate the effects so you won’t die.”
“Tim,” Kon just said, because even not-stupid him would have problems following
all of that. He let out a low whine when he saw how upset Tim was, breathing
shakily in front of his case like he was watching Kon be tortured.
Clearly, he wasn’t being tortured by anyone but the infuriating omega keeping
him here.
“Just hold on a bit longer,” Tim whispered, and pressed himself right up to the
glass. It felt wrong to see his mate so close and not be able to smell him, and
that reminded Kon of how much he ached all over and he needed Tim against him,
around him, right now.
“Hurts,” he managed, and tried to look strong even when Tim’s expression
crumpled just a bit around the corners.
--
By the fourth day, Tim was frantically arguing with the dark creature on the
screen.
“You can do it,” the creature said, but looked more worn out than usual. “Of
all of us, you’re the most equipped to figure out a solution…”
“What’s wrong,” Tim immediately said, picking up on the creature’s distraction.
He frowned when the creature shook his head. “Bruce, has something happened?”
“Not… not anything we can’t handle,” the dark creature responded. “Focus on
your mission. Call again when you’re within signal. Tim, it’ll be alright.”
Tim rubbed his face with a hand and looked over to where Kon lay on the cot.
When Kon had become too weak to pound against the glass, Tim had removed him in
alarm. He'd placed him on a rollout cot from the emergency med-bay, which had
its ups and downs. On the up side, Kon was out of that blasted glass case and
could soak in Tim’s soothing omega scent as much as he wanted.
On the down side, Kon was too weak to actually do anything about it. 
“No,” he frowned when Tim tried to get him to swallow something nasty. This was
the third nasty thing he’d swallowed, and each successive one had made him feel
worse. “No, I don’t want to.”
“Kon, please,” Tim begged. He swept Kon’s hair away from his sweaty forehead
and crawled halfway onto the cot himself. Kon crooned and put a weak arm around
the omega’s waist. Breathed in his sweet but distressed omega scent until he
started dozing off, and then Tim was shaking him awake again. “Kon!”
“Kiss me?” Kon grinned weakly, and Tim’s face did a funny twist. Things must
really be bad since Tim didn’t protest—just uncapped the vial with a determined
set to his jaw and poured it into his mouth. He leaned over and pressed his
lips to Kon’s. It was so goddamn bitter, Kon would’ve dry-heaved if Tim wasn’t
apologetically tangling their tongues together. If the omega wasn’t stroking
the side of his face with a nimble hand, his upper body pressed reassuringly
over Kon’s heart. Kon swallowed without realizing it, and enjoyed Tim’s mouth
pressing softly into his own for as long as he could.
But then he started coughing, and Tim had to move back or get smacked in the
face.
“Stay with me, Kon,” Tim whispered, pulling the weakened alpha into his arms.
“Stay with me.”
--
Kon wasn’t sure what day it was when Tim put a cool compress on his forehead
and whispered in a heartbroken tone: “We won’t make it in time.”
--
The next time he startled awake, it was because the entire ship was shaking
around them.
“Tim?” Kon rasped, and turned to see the boy’s fingers flying determinedly
across the keyboard controls. He hit ‘enter’ and the ship roared around them a
second time.
Kon tried to take in his surroundings through bleary eyes: the omega had
strapped him into the co-pilot’s seat and padded the sides so Kon stayed
upright. The leg-space between them was filled with everything from a large
hydration jug to those weird little freeze-dried McDonald’s fries Tim liked so
much. Tim pressed another few buttons, and the ship shook once, twice, and then
suddenly stopped.
“What was that,” Kon managed. Tim tried to shush him, but he frowned and shook
the omega’s hand away. “Tim, what the hell did you do?”
“Disconnected the dorm and med bay chambers,” Tim said, like he wasn’t
admitting he’d torn the ship in half. “They’re weighing us down.”
“They’re what?” Kon looked at the jug to the boxes of food to Tim’s determined
expression in horror. “Don’t tell me—”
“Press your head to the seat if you don’t want whiplash,” Tim overrode him, and
yanked a lever.
The world blurred.
--
Kon couldn't breathe. He gasped and tried to flail upwards out of the spring,
but then familiar hands were gently pushing him down again.
“Deep breaths, Kon,” Tim’s voice floated down from above. Kon whined lowly from
the back of his throat, but acquiesced when the omega stroked his face. “One
more time.”
Kon winced and squeezed his eyes shut, and he felt himself plunged back into
the water once more.
--
When Kon blinked awake, he was lying on a bed. A real bed this time—actual
white sheets that ran soft against his skin, and a fluffy pillow beneath his
head. He realized someone was gripping his hand tight enough to hurt, and
blinked up at a ragged-looking Tim in bewilderment.
“Heya Tim,” he whispered, voice hoarse—and Tim burst into tears.
“Woah,” he said, alarmed, when the omega’s next move was to start smacking his
chest. “Woah, Tim, stop that—”
“Ridiculous, bull-headed, reckless bastard!” Tim just screamed at him, and
smacked him again. Kon winced but didn’t fight back, because Tim’s blows were
nothing to a Kryptonian’s constitution. Even a half-Kryptonian. “You died, you
ass, and you almost died again, and I hate you! I hate you!”
And then, as if just to be contrary, the omega threw himself on top of Kon.
Tim hated looking weak. He was the fierce leader of the Teen Titans, after all,
and the esteemed Batman’s protégé; he was the smartest boy Kon knew, giving Mum
a run for his money; and even if he fell apart sometimes during sex, Tim made
it clear that that was during sex.
On the field, he expected nothing less than absolute obedience from Superboy.
On the field, he’d yelled when Superboy had gone charging up against that
alternate Clark—and gotten beaten so bad he almost died. Gotten beaten so bad
he did die, because wasn’t that what Tim had just screamed at him?
Kon swept a thumb under Tim’s eye. Felt his heart flutter when Tim leaned into
his touch and sighed. “You gotta start at the beginning, Tim. My mind feels
like mush.”
He stroked a large hand down the omega’s back and thrilled in the way that
lithe body arched against his. God, Tim was a wet dream. He ran his alpha-teeth
along the shell of the boy's ear and gently tugged at his earlobe.
“You keep doing that, there won’t be much talking,” Tim huffed, and Kon
impatiently snuck his hands under the boy’s shirt. “You’re on your sickbed,
Conner. For god’s sake.”
“I feel fine,” Kon murmured. He stroked the omega’s side in apology. “I feel
fine, Tim, and something tells me that’s your doing. Can’t a guy reward his
hero?”
“Who’s rewarding who,” Tim said, but didn’t protest when Kon gently hauled him
into his lap. He didn’t protest when Kon arched up and kissed Tim softly,
confidently, and he certainly didn’t protest when Kon slipped a hand past his
waistband.
“I’m here,” he whispered into Tim’s mouth, and knew he’d said the right thing
when the omega just whined at him. “I’m here, Tim. I’m back.”
“Asshole,” Tim hissed, but let Kon slip his pants down over the swell of his
ass. Let Kon gently finger him open and then push himself inside the boy’s
shuddering body, smooth and easy after years of moving together like this. Tim
felt so real and alive and beautiful around him. Such a soothing comfort the
more he rocked down into Kon’s lap, whispering endearments and curses and
cradling Kon’s face like he couldn’t believe the boy was here. That he was
fine.
“Tim,” Kon whispered, clenching Tim’s waist and rolling his hips upwards. “Tim,
Tim.”
“Love you,” Tim whispered into his mouth. Kissed the corners of his lips and
then his strong jaw. “I love you, Kon.” The boy was crying again, but this time
in relief. He sniffed and gasped and hung onto Kon’s shoulders tight, which was
Kon knew for sure he’d been forgiven. They gasped in tandem when Kon pressed
all the way in and let his knot swell within the omega’s channel.
Once fully tied, he nudged Tim over and tucked him under his body. Threw the
sheets over them and cuddled his now secure omega, because even with a sound
mind they were still on some alien planet Kon barely recognized.
Tim huffed, “We’re perfectly safe here, Kon.”
“Says who.”
“Says me,” Tim let out a soft noise when Kon spilled inside him, his hips
grinding subtle circles within him. The omega whined when Kon remembered his
neglected cock and stroked it with a hand. “The—ah—the sisters have agreed to
let us—hm—to let us renovate one of their ships so we can—shit, right there—”
There was no more talking for a good while, which suited Kon just fine. Ironic,
given that he was the first to speak once they regained their senses.
“You destroyed the ship,” Kon said, once Tim had came between their stomachs
and he was patting the omega’s side again. “Mum is going to kill you for losing
his chamber.”
“Luthor can go suck a dick,” Tim yawned, and giggled when Kon pinched his waist
in retaliation. It was a good giggle. Enough that Kon forgave him for casting
disparaging remarks on his mother, though Tim didn’t need to know that. He
pressed a greedy mouth to Tim’s chin and inwardly crowed when the omega gave
him a kiss.
God, this boy was going to be the deathof him.
--
The new ship was much smaller than their first one, but Tim had been on a tight
deadline. He could have probably fixed it up in one day rather than two, but
he'd been so relieved Kon was Konagain that he'd indulged the boy's whims.
“Sweet,” Kon rifled through the amenities after take-off, and then lifted a
yelping Tim into their new cabin to christen the bed. He only curbed the
flirting once Tim threatened to withhold breakfast, but was otherwise smug as a
cat who caught the canary—or Robin, in this case—while watching Tim working in
the cockpit.
“So Tim,” the boy drawled after spending a long time staring at Tim’s neck. The
omega ignored him. “Feral me was real sure you were mine, y’know.”
“Hm,” Tim said.
“Ain’t that funny?”
“Hm?” Tim gave him a frown.
Kon leaned over and tapped Tim’s neck—his hickey-covered, battle-scarred but
otherwise bite-less neck. “Thought alphas needed to bite to recognize a mating
bond.”
Tim flushed and batted Kon’s hand away. He’d been pushing that thought aside
for days, because why wouldn't Kon go into rut just from inhaling Tim’s scent?
That was their thing since the very beginning. It wasn't the most dignified
start of their relationship, but it had worked out in the end.
“Yeah, well,” Tim finally said, turning back to the controls. He didn’t
actually need to mess with anything, but he was too embarrassed to look at
Kon’s face. “Not every alpha and omega needs a bite to tell everyone they’re
theirs.”
“Like who?” Kon frowned.
Tim waved a hand. “Like Dick and Bruce, for example. Dick’s unbitten.”
“Nightwing’s what?” Kon gave him an incredulous stare. “He’s your family
omega!”
“Still unbitten.”
“Okay, that just proves my point,” Kon floated out of his seat and sidled up to
Tim. Put his chin on Tim’s head and looped big arms around his shoulders.
“’Cause the only example you gave is like, one of the most long-term alpha-
omega relationships I know.”
“If you want to ask me something, ask,” Tim finally stopped pretending he was
working and turned to the alpha. The half-Kryptonian purred and nuzzled into
his hair.
“Timothy Drake—”
“Timothy Drake Wayne.”
“Seriously, Tim? Fine. Timothy Drake Wayne,” Kon looked down at him, “Can I
bite you?”
“No,” Tim said, and turned back to the controls.
Kon whined incredulously. Tim ignored him, even when Kon slid down to the
ground and sulked around the cockpit. When he returned to his spot in the co-
pilot’s seat, Tim activated the autopilot that’d take them within the
Watchtower’s range and turned to his alpha.
He went and sat in Kon’s lap, though the alpha just crossed his arms and pouted
at him. Tim leaned his head against Kon’s broad shoulder anyway. “Not now, Kon.
But if you behave yourself on the way back…”
He grinned at Kon’s suddenly interested look, “…maybe I’ll let you when we get
home.”
“You tease,” Kon exclaimed, but pulled a laughing Tim into his arms. He nuzzled
Tim’s aforementioned neck in protest, and just smirked when Tim pushed his head
away. “You want me to be good? I’ll be good. I’ll be so good you’ll beg me for
it.”
“Bring it on, big guy,” Tim drawled, but gave his alpha an eager kiss that made
his feelings as clear as day.
 
 
 
 
 
 
extra
 
Tim was so nervous he was going to drown in a pool of his own sweat.
He hated being nervous. It meant even his best analysis, data charts and
contingency plans hadn’t produced any acceptable conclusions; and he had to
rely on the unpredictable to get through the night. He hated going into a
situation blind. Worst scenario for a bat boy in any form, though Dick seemed
far more able to go with the flow than Tim was.
Even Jason, that psychotic asshole, adapted better than Tim did. Like when an
enraged Damian Wayne fell on top of his shiny hooded head and unleashed the
anger of a thousand assassins.
Tim’s reaction to the exact same thing had left him sore on a hospital bed, and
so he was more than affronted when Jason just picked the brat up by the neck
and tossed him off the roof.
Which then brought Dick onto Jason’s head, and Tim had never seen the alpha
look so honestly terrified.
“He’s fine!” Jason had hissed, vaulting off the roof and picking up the
relatively unscathed boy. Damian roared and bit his hand, but that was nothing
to being whacked with the taser-end of Nightwing’s escrima stick. “Knock it
off—Dick! Ow!”
“You can probably stop shocking him now,” Tim had told him. Dick finally
relented in favor of yanking the demon baby to his side and giving his fellow
Robins the Alfred Glare.
“I don’t care how much you take your anger out on us, Jay, but you leave Damian
alone,” he snapped in a terse voice, despite the fact that Damian had attacked
Jason first. The brat just wrapped his arms around Dick’s waist and glowered at
the affronted alpha. “And for god’s sake, can you please just call Bruce like a
normal person and not commit crimes to get his attention.”
“I’m not trying to get Bruce’s attention!” Jason yelped indignantly, which was
when Tim's patience ran out. He stabbed Jason with a tranquilizer, and the man
fell over like a sack of bricks.
“Useless,” Damian declared, and that was that.
Tim wasn’t sure how he felt about the newest addition to their family. He'd
come home prepared to accept Bruce's and Dick’s ire over the fresh bite on his
neck, and was completely unprepared for Dick's bombshell of Oops, didn’t I tell
you we had a son? Who is alive and not dead like I thought? Oh and I finally
let Bruce bite me, no big deal, I see you have your own bite, please bring Kon
over so we can ‘talk’ to him, ha ha ha, thanks Tim.
Dick’s obvious joy at having his baby boy back was the only good thing to come
out of that that shit show. Damian was a menace, and Tim would've felt bad
squabbling with a ten-year-old if said ten-year-old wasn't a vicious, murderous
ninja. Which wasn't actually the kid's fault, but Tim felt more sympathy for
Dick than anyone else. Especially the whole pregnant at sixteen thing.
He’d immediately narrowed his eyes at the family alpha once that came out.
Seriously, Bruce. Seriously.
“Hey, I’m almost there. Ready to go?” Kon’s voice over his cell phone snapped
Tim out of his reverie. Right, he was supposed to be sweating in worry. Who
cares about the demon baby sucking up all of Dick’s time? He's got bigger
problems to deal with. Like this.
“C’mon, Tim, it’s gonna be fine,” Kon said once he landed at the Wayne Manor
entrance. Tim glared but let Superboy sweep him into his arms without protest.
“It’s not like you haven’t met.”
“Yes, all our encounters so far have been excellent,” Tim said. “Shooting at
one another and trying to disassemble his weapons of mass destructions, what a
lovely way to bond with Lex fucking Luthor.”
“I made Mum promise to keep WMDs out of conversation,” Kon assured him, which
wasn’t a reassurance at all.
Seriously, having dinner with the Kents was so laughably easy compared to this.
Ma and Pa Kent were charming in a way only country folk could be, and Tim had
already known Clark and Kara enough that conversation came easily.
But Lex Luthor?
“Timothy,” Luthor grinned when Tim and Kon finally arrived at the LexCorp
penthouse. Tim swept his hair back and straightened up to his full height,
which was still shorter than both the other men. It was more of a symbolic
gesture, honestly. “How excellent to see you out of costume for once.”
“Luthor,” Tim responded stiffly. “How excellent to see you not planning my
death for once.”
Luthor just smirked at him.
Tim threw Kon a desperate look, but his mate seemed oblivious to the threats
volleying between the two omegas.
“Dinner is in ten,” Luthor said conversationally. “It’ll be interesting to
learn more about my son’s mate in more civilized company.”
“Kon, if you mother poisons me...” Tim hissed once Luthor waltzed out of the
room, which was when the alpha finally caught on. He put a warm hand to Tim’s
back and tugged him closer.
“Relax,” Kon soothed him. “Mum’s not going to poison you. He’s still grateful
you brought me back in one piece, you know. I mean, if it wasn’t for us being
on opposite sides, I think he’d like you for your brains.”
“God, I hope not,” Tim said in horror, and resolved to send Bruce a coded text
just in case he fell face-first into his crème brulee. Namely, to not let
Damian anywhere near his stuff in the event of his death because the brat was
going to ruin everything.
Kon just patted his back in sympathy, and Tim swore revenge.
--
The revenge came about two weeks later. Sweet, sweet, surprisingly-Damian-
instigated revenge.
“Who are you,” the brat had prowled around Kon the moment he’d entered the
sitting room. He narrowed his eyes at the half-Kryptonian and glanced between
him and Tim. “Ah. The fake son’s mate. Your resemblance to the alien suggests
you are the clone I have heard about. A fake boy for a fake son—how fitting.”
“Damian,” Tim had snapped, but Kon seemed more baffled than angry.
“Wow, you’re nothing like Dick,” the teenager said—unaware of the can of worms
he’d just unleashed.
Dick came vaulting down the stairs the moment the screams started, just in time
to see his son unsuccessfully chucking a piece of kryptonite at Superboy.
Unsuccessful because Tim had smacked away the offending object with his bo-
staff and then used said staff to beat Damian over the head.
“Enough!” Nightwing had shouted over the commotion, and everyone had
immediately frozen. Everyone except for Damian, whom Nightwing had to stomp
over and grab by the waist to stop him from suffocating Tim with a pillow.
“Damian, what have I told you about Bats not killing?”
“He insulted my honor!” Damian shouted defiantly.
Kon put up his hands in bewilderment. “ I just said he wasn’t like you!”
“Damian,” Dick sighed—and the boy stopped wriggling and glared around in
embarrassed anger. Dick had magical powers, no question about it. “You’re my
son no matter what anyone says. But you still can’t throw kryptonite at
people.”
“I’m doing the fake son a service,” Damian muttered, crossing his arms and
turning away. “If he cannot see the resemblance between us, than he is
undeserving of Drake’s affections.”
“I don’t know if I should be touched or insulted,” Tim said. Dick released
Damian while turning to address the younger omega, and the boy took the
opportunity to flee back to his room. Good lord, one Bruce was already a
handful.
“Damian’s having a hard time adjusting,” Dick apologized to a resigned Tim and
a still-confused Kon. “Trying to figure out where he fits in this family. It’s
why he’s especially sensitive when people question his heritage. I’d like to
say he’d the most difficult challenge you had to face today, but…”
“Bruce,” he and Tim said at the same time. Kon paled.
Dick put a sympathetic hand on Tim’s shoulder. “Remember, Timmy. Play your
cards right, and it's one ball cut off and not two.”
“What does that mean?” Kon whispered furiously once Nightwing had flipped back
up the staircase to go and console an undoubtedly sulking Damian. He paled even
further when Tim just shook his head and refused to respond. “What does that
mean? Tim!”
--
“We have a full set of surgical equipment in the Bat Cave,” Bruce informed the
other alpha in an even tone over the pot roast. “I can give you a tour of it
all after dinner.”
“Uh—no thanks, Mr. Wayne,” Kon stammered, and Tim could just see the moment his
poor mate realized exactly what Dick had meant. The alpha shrank under Bruce’s
unwavering stare and focused his attention on Alfred’s amazing cooking. The
butler had once again outdone himself, and Tim would have been more
appreciative if the atmosphere over the dinner table wasn’t so awkward.
“Nonsense. I’m curious to see what you’ve learned at the farm,” Bruce
continued. He stabbed a particularly thick cut of roast, pink juices gushing
from the point of impact. “There must be a lot of similarities between
butchering an animal and conducting complex surgery.”
“Bruce!” Tim hissed in mortification, and Dick, the utter bastard, just burst
out laughing rather scold his alpha into behaving himself. Probably because
Bruce so rarely responded to scoldings, and Dick had developed a 'let the
little things go' attitude after wrestling with Bruce's problems for so long.
If the Batman poisoned Kon with Kryptonite downstairs, Tim was going to throw a
fit.
“Would you care for more tea, Mister Kent,” Alfred asked the younger alpha in a
dry voice, and Tim put his head in his hands.
--
After Kon had flown back to Metropolis with a near-permanent look of horror on
his face, Tim stalked up to Bruce's room.
Unfortunately, Bruce had done the smart thing and hidden himself away. All Tim
found in the master bedroom was Dick sprawled across the bed sending Roy Harper
funny cat videos.
"We just care about you," Dick said when Tim crossed his arms and fumed down at
his adoptive brother.
“You just like seeing me squirm,” Tim corrected. He crawled onto the bed and
shoved Dick over so they could lie side-by-side. These videos weren't even that
funny. Roy apparently agreed with Tim’s assessment, because a few minutes later
Dick received an email with the subject title “SERIOUSLY ROB STOP SENDING ME
THESE” and then another email titled “DEMON BABY PLAY DATE” which had Tim
worried about poor Lian and her mental health.
And then he worried about his own mental health when Dick turned to him and
said in a conversational tone: “So Tim, I was thinking it'd help Damian feel
like a part of the family if we gave him the Robin title.”
“What,” Tim yelped, caught off-guard. "You can't do that!"
"I can't, you're right. I'm asking you to," Dick tugged the now glaring omega
against his side. "Robin's a Boy Wonder thing, y'know? You're seventeen. Almost
an adult. Me and Jay, it was around this time we re-envisioned ourselves—"
"You got pregnant,Jason died, no one re-envisioned anything!"
"—'cause let me tell you, you don't want to get stuck in Bruce's shadow
forever," Dick ignored Tim's comment, because at least one of them was the
mature one here.
"But I don't want to," Tim said petulantly. Robin had been a part of him for so
long. He didn't want to give it up, especially not to a brat like Damian Wayne.
"Just think about it, Tim," Dick sighed, and let Tim bury his face into his
shoulder like he was twelve again. Dick had always smelled sweet and soft and
comforting, the best family omega a boy could ask for. He'd taught Tim how to
be Robin, to deal with Bruce's moods and to be a quick-witted detective; he'd
also taught Tim what it meant to be an omega, to wrangle an alpha into
obedience and to use comfort to his advantage. Tim remembered how desperately
he'd clung to Dick in the days following his mother's death and his father's
hospitalization; how desperately he wanted to be accepted somewhere.
It physically hurt him to admit it, but he supposed Damian was feeling the same
way. But just because he was older didn't mean he needed his adoptive family
any less.
"If I'm not Robin, than who am I," he mumbled against Dick's sleeve while the
older omega tapped out a quick message to Roy explaining how these cat videos
were the best things ever and Roy was being a killjoy. Dick hit send and
ruffled Tim's hair fondly.
"You're my little brother, Timmy," the man said. "And I'll always love you."
"Emotional blackmail," Tim hissed, but knew from the way Dick smiled that he'd
already lost.
--
“You’ll always be my Robin,” Kon greeted an exhausted Tim crawling through his
apartment window that night. Tim sighed and fell onto the couch, letting the
alpha hug him around the waist. “My serious little Robin.”
“My ridiculous, perverted clone boy,” Tim responded, and smiled when Kon
wrestled him into his lap. "Just how I like you."
“We'll come up with a new costume for you," Kon promised, and traced his alpha-
teeth right where he’d bitten Tim weeks ago. "And a kickass name. Inspire fear
in Gotham, show the Bat and his new little Robin who's boss."
"We all know Alfred's the boss," Tim laughed, but cupped the back of Kon’s head
and pressed their mouths together in appreciation. When they broke for breath,
Tim nuzzled his cheek.
“Don't wanna think about this anymore," he murmured. Kon wrapped his arms
around his waist and huffed when Tim rolled his hips down. "Help me forget?"
"Love it when you're honest," the alpha purred, and gently pushed a grinning
Tim down onto the couch. Tim wrapped his arms around those broad shoulders and
kept grinning, because here in Kon's arms he knew for sure that everything was
going to be all right.
 
Chapter End Notes
     Since neither Kon nor Bruce are dead in this AU, I think Tim would be
     a bit more willing to give Damian the Robin mantle. Also because Dick
     asked him to this time. I dunno, this whole thing is so off canon
     it's barely holding itself together, haha.
     Jason makes another cameo; he seems doomed to never get his own
     limelight in my universes. Sorry Jaybird!
     Thanks for reading~
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