DCU Fic Translation - Blind Date(s) 2
Blind Date(s) 2
Fandom: DCU
Author: brisby_pops
Pairing: Kon/Tim
Rating: PG
Summary: The problem for superheroes with two identities are the superheroes who only have one.
Tim came out from the bathroom, a towel over his shoulders. It was barely midnight. With winter, he could begin his patrols earlier, and if the night was calm, he got back home before one in the morning. Or, like tonight, even earlier. He was about to go back into his room when he found himself face to face with his housekeeper.
- Uh… I… Mrs. McIlvaine?
Her impeccable chignon pulled so tightly at her hair that he always had trouble telling if she was squinting or not.
- Timothy. A child of your age should be asleep at this hour if he wants to stay in good health.
- I… I was working with a friend on a project. I told my dad.
She pursed her lips. That must not be reason enough in her eyes. Or perhaps she disapproved of his father’s behavior.
- I left your things on your desk for you. And if you could clean your room, it wouldn’t be a luxury. I can’t do everything in this house.
- Yes Mrs. Mac.
- Good night Timothy.
He followed her with his eyes to the stairs to assure himself that she was really leaving the floor before allowing himself to breathe. He shut his door again with his foot and threw his towel over the bed. He swept over the room with his eyes, landing at last on the wardrobe. A smile stretched his lips when he found the two blue eyes inside it.
- Your housekeeper is terrifying.
- I know.
- Seriously. She really seems like… she’s pissed off all the time. I think she’d be likely to go and study what can kill me if she ever found me in your room.
- It’s altogether possible.
Superboy smiled in response and leaned forward. His fingers glided through Tim’s wet hair as their lips touched. He let his forehead rest against Tim’s for a moment, then his smile grew.
- No big. The game’s worth the candle.
Tim rolled his eyes and stepped away to let Kon exit.
- How’d you know I was in the wardrobe, for real?
- I was going into the shower when you called me. I knew that you’d arrive before I was done. So you had to have hidden yourself. And the wardrobe was the only place big enough.
- Wow. Does Batman rub off on everyone in this city?
Tim chose to laugh. It was only when Superboy was completely out of the wardrobe that he noticed his clothes.
- You’re in plainclothes?
- Yeah. I wanted to change.
Superboy beamed. He was wearing baggy jeans, black and a little worn over the knees, a dark blue shirt, and tinted glasses pushed up into his hair. He had changed out his earring for a sea green polished stone. Even his hair was a little more disciplined than usual.
Tim realized that for Superboy, this was a proper date. But… a proper date… In his room.
- So? What do you think?
His cheeks were flushed. Tim tried to respond, but no word came to mind. The smile stretching his lips would have stopped him from speaking in any event. Yet it seemed appropriate to Superboy, who seized his hand.
- We watching the movie?
His voice was low, almost a whisper. Tim acquiesced and felt the grip on his fingers tighten. Superboy’s thumb gently caressed the back of his hand.
The DVD was quickly inserted in the reader, and they settled themselves on the bed. It was a movie Tim didn’t recognize. Superboy had described it as an excellent mystery film and had assured Tim that he wouldn’t figure out the murderer before the end. And it was many years since Tim hadn’t figured out the end of a story, so he was curious.
The first scene hadn’t finished yet when Superboy stretched and went to place his hand nonchalantly over Tim’s shoulder. Tim couldn’t help but start laughing. He felt the hand on his back stiffen and leaned his head on Superboy’s shoulder before he could move it. Tim’s hair had to be tickling his cheek. Tim couldn’t see him but he imagined Superboy’s smile without problem.
He stayed focused on the film for the first ten minutes, and then his attention was gradually diverted.
- How am I supposed to be surprised by the murderer if I can’t even understand when it’s the end?
Tim had spoken almost against his mouth. Superboy groaned and then kissed him again.
- We’ll watch it a second time.
***
- What do you think about Superboy?
Tim threw his batarang too soon. It plunged into the shoulder of the mannequin instead of hitting the forearm. Bruce hadn’t seen the movement of his eyes, at least Tim hoped that he hadn’t noticed his error.
- He has potential. But he never takes the time to think. He has to learn to judge risks before his luck runs out. If he does, he will be a valuable ally.
The batarang he threw bent the air with a hiss.
- Why?
Bruce didn’t respond. Tim could feel his presence just behind him, a little to his left.
- Robin has worked with him already. How did your collaboration go?
- Poorly. We don’t have compatible personalities.
The uneven bars Dick was training on stopped creaking. Tim forced himself not to look in his direction and threw another batarang.
- Meaning?
- He’s in the phase where he needs to prove that he’s not just Superman’s clone. He doesn’t like receiving orders. Because he’s irresponsible, I give him a lot of them. As he feels the need to prove himself, he accepts them very poorly. Eventually I get upset. He ends up worrying more about contradicting me than the security of the mission.
- I see.
The mannequins automatically changed position, and Tim grabbed another handful of batarangs.
- What do you recommend?
- To let time pass. Wait for him to mature. Minimize his meetings with Robin so as not to create a permanent state of hostility. Favor certain partnerships. It would be beneficial for him to form himself on other models than Superman. A triad with Superman and Nightwing could be a start. And it’s important to avoid Impulse’s influence on him. Or to favor it so that it scalds him.
- Good.
Throughout his speech, Tim’s voice was hard. A succession of facts coldly enunciated. A metallic reasoning.
It wasn’t only Bruce who had the right to hide.
Leave me alone…
He took it on himself to not breathe the air out of his lungs to relieve the tension paralyzing his muscles.
- And with Tim Drake?
The batarang that he threw buried itself deep in the mannequin, up to the metal frame. The sound resonated throughout the cave. He took another one, which he threw with even more force. Then a third. A rhythm established itself as the cave filled with the sound of batarangs meeting the metal. His arm began to hurt with the amount of force in the throws.
- Tim.
- What do you want to hear?
He sensed the bars rubbing against Dick’s costume while he got down from them. If he raised his head he could have met Dick’s face, but Tim did nothing. It wasn’t to have Tim look at him that Dick had moved. He knew that Tim would stay concentrated on the mannequins and wouldn’t lift his eyes. Dick had advanced only to communicate with Bruce. The batarang buried itself again in the iron frame.
- Superboy comes to Gotham two to three times a week. You knew I would notice.
- I know. Maybe I was just hoping that you would have the decency not to broach the subject.
- That’s false. You knew that I would pose the question.
- I said “hope.”
Tim began to lose his concentration and his arm grew tired. He missed his target, and the batarang bounced against the floor of the cave. With a swipe of his wrist, he wiped the sweat that was pearling around his mouth.
- The secret is safe. You don’t have to worry. I really do not intend to give him Tim Drake’s other identity.
He grabbed yet another batarang, wedged it between his fingers, and positioned his arm behind him, ready to throw. A firm grip stopped him before he threw it, strong fingers closing on his arm. He had the impression he could feel the force he had gathered for his throw trapped inside him and felt frustrated.
- It’s a complex situation.
- That’s the conclusion the world’s greatest detective has arrived to? Because if that’s the case, I have to tell you you’ve trained me well: I thought much the same.
His jaw was so tense that he had trouble pronouncing each word distinctively. Bruce pulled on his arm to force him to turn around, then let him go.
- Tim.
He knew how Bruce’s lips were lightly curled back. He also knew this way of pronouncing his name. Bruce was worried. And not for “Robin.” Nor for “Timothy Drake.”
Tim felt his throat close and his anger evaporate enough for his jaw to unclench. He suddenly felt very tired and wanted to sit on the ground and sleep, or cry, or curl up in the arms of… No.
- Listen, I… am managing. I have the situation under control.
- Are you sure?
- …I believe so?
Tim closed his eyes and tried to inject a little order into his thoughts. He ran his hand through his hair to oust the beginnings of a migraine.
- You’ve been found out.
- There’s no way that I wouldn’t be. It doesn’t exist, for a relationship like that…
Tim expected the reply that, in effect, there weren’t any other relationships like that. But he did nothing. Bruce stayed silent for several seconds and disappeared behind the mask of Batman. His face was again perfectly smooth. Tim felt the tension come back into his muscles.
- If you think you know what you’re doing…
- I think so. I’ll ask you only not to spy on me. Or conduct further investigations.
Bruce didn’t need to make the slightest movement, the disapproval seeming to emanate from him. Tim’s tone hardened.
- I forbid it.
He knew that he could hurt Bruce, but he had to reach Batman as well.
- It’s my life and you don't have to interfere. Or anyone else.
Time didn’t know what Dick’s reaction could be and he preferred not to look at him. He just had to make them understand that he didn’t want anyone from Gotham to spy on his meetings with Superboy.
Bruce finally nodded his head, slowly. The batarang rang against stone when Tim let it drop and left the cave. Now he just had to digest his anger at having been spied on, the chagrin that they hadn’t trusted him, the guilt of having harsh words when they were worried about him, the uneasiness at having to deal with Robin and Superboy, and… the anxiety that this sort of formalization of their relationship gave him.
***
Tim heard the curtains slide against the rod as they opened. He let several seconds pass before raising his head. Superboy was perched on the edge of his window.
- Hey.
- Hey.
*
- Listen, little brother…
- I don’t want to talk about it, Dick.
*
Superboy’s hand ran through his hair and his fingers closed again over his nape when their lips touched. He had crossed the room to his desk by flying, and had stayed fixed in the air, leaning towards Tim to kiss him. His hand stayed on Tim’s nape for a long time after the end of their kiss, his fingers entwined in the little hairs.
*
- Okay. No but I understand. It’s true. Bruce and I followed up, investigated you, we invaded your private life, and I wanted to say… Who does that these days?!
- …That’s completely different.
- Maybe. A little. But I assure you that Bruce was never more surprised than by you the day you came to see me to say that you knew our identities.
- I was twelve!
- Exactly. It was even more disturbing. And stop biting your cheeks, you know you want to laugh.
*
Superboy’s feet touched the ground at last.
- I didn’t wake you up with my text?
- No. I wasn’t sleeping anyway.
- Cool.
He placed a last kiss on Tim’s lips then slowly detached his fingers from Tim’s neck.
*
- No but hey I’m impressed, Tim. I want to say: you’ve gotten one up on me!
- …
- I’m serious. I went out with totally normal people who didn’t know I was wearing a mask. I went out with superheroes who didn’t know my identity. But I never went out with one of us under my civilian name without them knowing I was a hero too.
- What do you want… This constant need to prove that I’m a good Robin and I can outdo you sometimes…
*
They didn’t exchange a single word for several seconds, and Tim realized that the silence was heavy. Superboy was tearing at his cuticles without realizing it.
- I, uh… I wanted to talk to you about something.
Tim blinked.
- All right.
- You’d better… Er… You mind if we sit on the bed?
- …No.
Yet the bed didn’t seem to help Superboy. He sat cross-legged and clasped his hands, nervous. Tim raised an eyebrow.
*
- Well if not, at least I loved Bruce’s face when he saw you kiss Superboy and if only for that I can’t regret a second of having spied on you…
- I’m shocked…
- Seriously, you’re sure of what you’re doing?
- Yes.
- Really?
- …No.
- …
- I don’t know Dick…
*
Superboy fidgeted, his foot tapping regularly against the mattress.
- Yeah. Well…
He bit his lips.
- Listen Tim, I’ve been thinking… About you… About us.
He took a breath.
- And I was forced to make a decision.
Tim felt something tear in his chest as his stomach became hard as stone. He knew discussions that began like this…
*
- I know you never want to talk about it. But you can’t ask me not to worry. So we’re going to talk about it one time and then I won’t broach the subject again.
- Okay.
- Good. You know going out with someone is never easy with what we do. Perhaps it’s with people like us, which implies going out with someone who has a huge amount of chances to die. Perhaps it’s with a civilian, knowing full well that we can’t for sure ever confess who we are. But in this case, you’re joining the fact of not being able to tell them who you truly are on top of the fact that he risks his life each day. It’s maybe a little earlier, but have you thought of how your relationship could go forward?
- I’ve… No. I tried at first. I really tried, Dick. To be rational, to convince myself that this could only ever go badly, to be reasonable… But I couldn’t. No, I don’t see how it could be a truly equal relationship. But I feel good with him, Dick.
*
Tim felt the blood pulsing at his temples. It was ridiculous. It had only been two months. He hadn’t really had the time to get attached, he realized. And then it was a relationship almost doomed from the start. This would stop them from hating each other if they did it quickly. His life would become simpler, and Bruce and Dick would stop worrying. Furthermore, if this ended before they had feelings for each other, they would suffer less.
Something protested painfully in his chest, and he clenched his fists.
- This wasn’t easy… Or so to say nothing with our situation has ever been easy… But I think this will be better for both of us.
His procrastinations began to annoy Tim, and he began to tear with his teeth at the skin of his lips to calm his nerves.
*
- There’s always a risk when you go out with someone. But he’s a superhero, he’ll make certain links more quickly. There’s a chance he’ll discover your identity one day. Have you thought of what will happen then?
- He’ll hate me. And definitely won’t want to see me again.
- Well that’s all right. Really no reason for me to worry.
- Dick… I’m trying to be reasonable: I don’t think he’ll change his mind about Robin one day.
*
Tim forced himself to blink. His eyes were becoming too dry with the force of staring at him like this. Superboy, on the other hand, hadn’t detached his face from his knees since he’d sat down. He finally took a deep breath and raised his head.
- Well. What I’m trying to say is…
He stopped, realizing the tension and distance emanating from Tim. His face fell.
- Tim…? What is it? You don’t feel well?
He leaned towards Tim, worried. Tim gritted his teeth and swallowed with some difficulty.
- If you have something to say, I’d be grateful if you do it quickly.
*
- So, if I’m summarizing well, you’re going out with a superhero, who doesn’t know you’re Robin, who hates your masked alter-ego, who will surely hate you if he learns your identity, and who you can’t see how you could have a future with. And the worst part is that I can’t even use the lean charisma that the Nightwing mask gives me to threaten him with a painful death if he ever breaks your heart!!
- I know. It’s really awful, Dick. I’m sorry.
- Tim. It sucks. Truly.
- …I know.
*
Superboy’s eyes widened and he began to stammer.
- I, uh… Okay.
He closed his eyes for a few seconds, anchored his gaze in Tim’s once reopened, and grabbed his hand.
- Tim… I want to tell you my name. My real name.
Tim felt his face lengthen and his eyes grow round. The pain slowly left his stomach. To be replaced by a panicked fear.
*
- The problem, Tim. It’s that I know you. After a while, you’re going to feel guilty for not being able to tell him your identity. It’s okay as long as he stays limited to his role as a superhero. You’ll have the impression that there’s a certain equality if you don’t tell him that you’re Robin. You’ll each have a secret. But if he wants to go further with you, build something, and wants to tell you his civilian identity…
- …
- You’ll find that your relationship is no longer equal. That he’s giving you more and that you can’t. You’re going to feel guilty and little by little it’s going to eat at you.
*
Tim rushed to cover his mouth before he continued.
- You can’t! You can’t tell me that!
Superboy blinked. Tim plastered his fingers a little against his mouth.
- You don’t realize?! It’s too dangerous! And if I ever sold the information! Everyone you love will be in danger!
Superboy passed through several moments of complete incomprehension, then calmed down. He delicately grabbed Tim’s wrists and forced them to move away. Tim resisted at first but could only abandon it. A tranquil smile stretched Superboy’s lips when his fingers came off.
- I love you.
Tim froze. He didn’t really relax, but Superboy’s words surprised him enough that he stopped struggling. His chest contracted now in an entirely different way. Tim settled for looking at him almost pleadingly, searching for words.
- And if I were a spy? If I were working for Lex Luthor? If my only goal had only ever been to extract your identity?
Superboy began to laugh.
- Then you’d be a really determined and well-planted spy.
- Those exist and you know it.
He ran his hand through Tim’s hair, an indulgent smile on his lips.
- Anyway, it wouldn’t be a big deal. It’s not my civilian name. I don’t really have one yet. But I find it ridiculous that you keep calling me “Superboy” when I’m calling you “Tim.” That’s not even a name. It’s almost a definition.
Tim calmed down a little but remained wary. He fluffed up the hem of his jeans, uncertain.
- You’re sure? Because it doesn’t bother me. I’d understand if you want to wait a little longer. And you're certain it can’t be used against you or your loved ones?
- It’s my alien name. It’s Superman that gave it to me. It’s just in connection with his home planet. That’s all.
Tim hesitated a moment longer, biting hard at his lips, but he finally nodded his head.
*
- You sure of what you’re doing?
- No! No Dick I am not sure! I don’t even know where this is taking me! Maybe I’ll have my heart broken ten times! It’s surely the least stable relationship I could get into! But that’s how it is! And I don’t want us to break up.
- Are you in love?
- No! I don’t know… Maybe. It’s really too soon to say.
- Okay, okay. You’re just ready to have your heart broken ten times sooner than leave him. But you aren’t already maybe in love.
- Screw you…
- Listen, for me there’s only two things I want. First, for you to be happy. And then, that you introduce me, introduce “Dick Grayson” to him as soon as possible so that I can threaten to make him fear kryptonite if he makes you suffer.
*
It was now that he had the permission to talk that Superboy seemed to hesitate the most. He caught Tim’s hands, as if to give himself the courage.
- Well… It’s a little weird that it’s an alien name… It’s… It has nothing to do with names on Earth but…
He breathed lightly and decided at last.
- My Kryptonian name is “Kon-El.”
Tim gradually integrated the different sounds that formed his name. It was like discovering a new adjective which came to define something he knew but in a whole new way.
- Kon. El.
- Yeah!
He seemed delighted that Tim was calling him it. Tim smiled, already busy analyzing the new name. His brain cross-referenced it with all the civilizations and mythologies he knew.
- Is the “El” a particle for light, like with angels?
Superboy stopped for a moment, then an immense smile stretched his lips, flattered by the image. Tim realized the comparison and felt his cheeks heat up.
- No, no. It’s the name of my house. Like if Kon were my name and El’s my last name.
*
- Well, Tim, I’m going to close this conversation and we won’t ever talk about it again.
- Thanks Dick.
- It’s normal, little brother. I just want us to be able to discuss the whole situation together. The bad points and… the not so bad points.
- Yeah... And you know?
- Hm?
*
Tim sat up on his knees and approached him. He was a little raised, and Superboy, sitting cross-legged, had to raise his eyes up to him. Tim ran a hand through his hair, playing with the curls, and placed the other at the base of his throat.
- “Kon” then?
An immense smile stretched Superboy’s lips
- Yeah. Kon.
The smile gradually came to contaminate Tim’s lips, and he leaned in to kiss him. Superboy’s hands drew Tim closer to him, helping his legs settle on either side of his body. One of his hands rested on Tim’s thigh while the other came back up around his back, plastering Tim even more against him. Tim’s fingers clung a little more firmly in his black curls, and he parted his mouth to deepen the kiss.
A suspicious noise could have come from the corridor at that moment, and Tim wasn’t sure he’d have been able to stop.
*
- It surely won’t be easy but… It’s worth it. It’s really worth it, Dick.
3939 words
Fandom: DCU
Author: brisby_pops
Pairing: Kon/Tim
Rating: PG
Summary: The problem for superheroes with two identities are the superheroes who only have one.
Tim came out from the bathroom, a towel over his shoulders. It was barely midnight. With winter, he could begin his patrols earlier, and if the night was calm, he got back home before one in the morning. Or, like tonight, even earlier. He was about to go back into his room when he found himself face to face with his housekeeper.
- Uh… I… Mrs. McIlvaine?
Her impeccable chignon pulled so tightly at her hair that he always had trouble telling if she was squinting or not.
- Timothy. A child of your age should be asleep at this hour if he wants to stay in good health.
- I… I was working with a friend on a project. I told my dad.
She pursed her lips. That must not be reason enough in her eyes. Or perhaps she disapproved of his father’s behavior.
- I left your things on your desk for you. And if you could clean your room, it wouldn’t be a luxury. I can’t do everything in this house.
- Yes Mrs. Mac.
- Good night Timothy.
He followed her with his eyes to the stairs to assure himself that she was really leaving the floor before allowing himself to breathe. He shut his door again with his foot and threw his towel over the bed. He swept over the room with his eyes, landing at last on the wardrobe. A smile stretched his lips when he found the two blue eyes inside it.
- Your housekeeper is terrifying.
- I know.
- Seriously. She really seems like… she’s pissed off all the time. I think she’d be likely to go and study what can kill me if she ever found me in your room.
- It’s altogether possible.
Superboy smiled in response and leaned forward. His fingers glided through Tim’s wet hair as their lips touched. He let his forehead rest against Tim’s for a moment, then his smile grew.
- No big. The game’s worth the candle.
Tim rolled his eyes and stepped away to let Kon exit.
- How’d you know I was in the wardrobe, for real?
- I was going into the shower when you called me. I knew that you’d arrive before I was done. So you had to have hidden yourself. And the wardrobe was the only place big enough.
- Wow. Does Batman rub off on everyone in this city?
Tim chose to laugh. It was only when Superboy was completely out of the wardrobe that he noticed his clothes.
- You’re in plainclothes?
- Yeah. I wanted to change.
Superboy beamed. He was wearing baggy jeans, black and a little worn over the knees, a dark blue shirt, and tinted glasses pushed up into his hair. He had changed out his earring for a sea green polished stone. Even his hair was a little more disciplined than usual.
Tim realized that for Superboy, this was a proper date. But… a proper date… In his room.
- So? What do you think?
His cheeks were flushed. Tim tried to respond, but no word came to mind. The smile stretching his lips would have stopped him from speaking in any event. Yet it seemed appropriate to Superboy, who seized his hand.
- We watching the movie?
His voice was low, almost a whisper. Tim acquiesced and felt the grip on his fingers tighten. Superboy’s thumb gently caressed the back of his hand.
The DVD was quickly inserted in the reader, and they settled themselves on the bed. It was a movie Tim didn’t recognize. Superboy had described it as an excellent mystery film and had assured Tim that he wouldn’t figure out the murderer before the end. And it was many years since Tim hadn’t figured out the end of a story, so he was curious.
The first scene hadn’t finished yet when Superboy stretched and went to place his hand nonchalantly over Tim’s shoulder. Tim couldn’t help but start laughing. He felt the hand on his back stiffen and leaned his head on Superboy’s shoulder before he could move it. Tim’s hair had to be tickling his cheek. Tim couldn’t see him but he imagined Superboy’s smile without problem.
He stayed focused on the film for the first ten minutes, and then his attention was gradually diverted.
- How am I supposed to be surprised by the murderer if I can’t even understand when it’s the end?
Tim had spoken almost against his mouth. Superboy groaned and then kissed him again.
- We’ll watch it a second time.
***
- What do you think about Superboy?
Tim threw his batarang too soon. It plunged into the shoulder of the mannequin instead of hitting the forearm. Bruce hadn’t seen the movement of his eyes, at least Tim hoped that he hadn’t noticed his error.
- He has potential. But he never takes the time to think. He has to learn to judge risks before his luck runs out. If he does, he will be a valuable ally.
The batarang he threw bent the air with a hiss.
- Why?
Bruce didn’t respond. Tim could feel his presence just behind him, a little to his left.
- Robin has worked with him already. How did your collaboration go?
- Poorly. We don’t have compatible personalities.
The uneven bars Dick was training on stopped creaking. Tim forced himself not to look in his direction and threw another batarang.
- Meaning?
- He’s in the phase where he needs to prove that he’s not just Superman’s clone. He doesn’t like receiving orders. Because he’s irresponsible, I give him a lot of them. As he feels the need to prove himself, he accepts them very poorly. Eventually I get upset. He ends up worrying more about contradicting me than the security of the mission.
- I see.
The mannequins automatically changed position, and Tim grabbed another handful of batarangs.
- What do you recommend?
- To let time pass. Wait for him to mature. Minimize his meetings with Robin so as not to create a permanent state of hostility. Favor certain partnerships. It would be beneficial for him to form himself on other models than Superman. A triad with Superman and Nightwing could be a start. And it’s important to avoid Impulse’s influence on him. Or to favor it so that it scalds him.
- Good.
Throughout his speech, Tim’s voice was hard. A succession of facts coldly enunciated. A metallic reasoning.
It wasn’t only Bruce who had the right to hide.
Leave me alone…
He took it on himself to not breathe the air out of his lungs to relieve the tension paralyzing his muscles.
- And with Tim Drake?
The batarang that he threw buried itself deep in the mannequin, up to the metal frame. The sound resonated throughout the cave. He took another one, which he threw with even more force. Then a third. A rhythm established itself as the cave filled with the sound of batarangs meeting the metal. His arm began to hurt with the amount of force in the throws.
- Tim.
- What do you want to hear?
He sensed the bars rubbing against Dick’s costume while he got down from them. If he raised his head he could have met Dick’s face, but Tim did nothing. It wasn’t to have Tim look at him that Dick had moved. He knew that Tim would stay concentrated on the mannequins and wouldn’t lift his eyes. Dick had advanced only to communicate with Bruce. The batarang buried itself again in the iron frame.
- Superboy comes to Gotham two to three times a week. You knew I would notice.
- I know. Maybe I was just hoping that you would have the decency not to broach the subject.
- That’s false. You knew that I would pose the question.
- I said “hope.”
Tim began to lose his concentration and his arm grew tired. He missed his target, and the batarang bounced against the floor of the cave. With a swipe of his wrist, he wiped the sweat that was pearling around his mouth.
- The secret is safe. You don’t have to worry. I really do not intend to give him Tim Drake’s other identity.
He grabbed yet another batarang, wedged it between his fingers, and positioned his arm behind him, ready to throw. A firm grip stopped him before he threw it, strong fingers closing on his arm. He had the impression he could feel the force he had gathered for his throw trapped inside him and felt frustrated.
- It’s a complex situation.
- That’s the conclusion the world’s greatest detective has arrived to? Because if that’s the case, I have to tell you you’ve trained me well: I thought much the same.
His jaw was so tense that he had trouble pronouncing each word distinctively. Bruce pulled on his arm to force him to turn around, then let him go.
- Tim.
He knew how Bruce’s lips were lightly curled back. He also knew this way of pronouncing his name. Bruce was worried. And not for “Robin.” Nor for “Timothy Drake.”
Tim felt his throat close and his anger evaporate enough for his jaw to unclench. He suddenly felt very tired and wanted to sit on the ground and sleep, or cry, or curl up in the arms of… No.
- Listen, I… am managing. I have the situation under control.
- Are you sure?
- …I believe so?
Tim closed his eyes and tried to inject a little order into his thoughts. He ran his hand through his hair to oust the beginnings of a migraine.
- You’ve been found out.
- There’s no way that I wouldn’t be. It doesn’t exist, for a relationship like that…
Tim expected the reply that, in effect, there weren’t any other relationships like that. But he did nothing. Bruce stayed silent for several seconds and disappeared behind the mask of Batman. His face was again perfectly smooth. Tim felt the tension come back into his muscles.
- If you think you know what you’re doing…
- I think so. I’ll ask you only not to spy on me. Or conduct further investigations.
Bruce didn’t need to make the slightest movement, the disapproval seeming to emanate from him. Tim’s tone hardened.
- I forbid it.
He knew that he could hurt Bruce, but he had to reach Batman as well.
- It’s my life and you don't have to interfere. Or anyone else.
Time didn’t know what Dick’s reaction could be and he preferred not to look at him. He just had to make them understand that he didn’t want anyone from Gotham to spy on his meetings with Superboy.
Bruce finally nodded his head, slowly. The batarang rang against stone when Tim let it drop and left the cave. Now he just had to digest his anger at having been spied on, the chagrin that they hadn’t trusted him, the guilt of having harsh words when they were worried about him, the uneasiness at having to deal with Robin and Superboy, and… the anxiety that this sort of formalization of their relationship gave him.
***
Tim heard the curtains slide against the rod as they opened. He let several seconds pass before raising his head. Superboy was perched on the edge of his window.
- Hey.
- Hey.
*
- Listen, little brother…
- I don’t want to talk about it, Dick.
*
Superboy’s hand ran through his hair and his fingers closed again over his nape when their lips touched. He had crossed the room to his desk by flying, and had stayed fixed in the air, leaning towards Tim to kiss him. His hand stayed on Tim’s nape for a long time after the end of their kiss, his fingers entwined in the little hairs.
*
- Okay. No but I understand. It’s true. Bruce and I followed up, investigated you, we invaded your private life, and I wanted to say… Who does that these days?!
- …That’s completely different.
- Maybe. A little. But I assure you that Bruce was never more surprised than by you the day you came to see me to say that you knew our identities.
- I was twelve!
- Exactly. It was even more disturbing. And stop biting your cheeks, you know you want to laugh.
*
Superboy’s feet touched the ground at last.
- I didn’t wake you up with my text?
- No. I wasn’t sleeping anyway.
- Cool.
He placed a last kiss on Tim’s lips then slowly detached his fingers from Tim’s neck.
*
- No but hey I’m impressed, Tim. I want to say: you’ve gotten one up on me!
- …
- I’m serious. I went out with totally normal people who didn’t know I was wearing a mask. I went out with superheroes who didn’t know my identity. But I never went out with one of us under my civilian name without them knowing I was a hero too.
- What do you want… This constant need to prove that I’m a good Robin and I can outdo you sometimes…
*
They didn’t exchange a single word for several seconds, and Tim realized that the silence was heavy. Superboy was tearing at his cuticles without realizing it.
- I, uh… I wanted to talk to you about something.
Tim blinked.
- All right.
- You’d better… Er… You mind if we sit on the bed?
- …No.
Yet the bed didn’t seem to help Superboy. He sat cross-legged and clasped his hands, nervous. Tim raised an eyebrow.
*
- Well if not, at least I loved Bruce’s face when he saw you kiss Superboy and if only for that I can’t regret a second of having spied on you…
- I’m shocked…
- Seriously, you’re sure of what you’re doing?
- Yes.
- Really?
- …No.
- …
- I don’t know Dick…
*
Superboy fidgeted, his foot tapping regularly against the mattress.
- Yeah. Well…
He bit his lips.
- Listen Tim, I’ve been thinking… About you… About us.
He took a breath.
- And I was forced to make a decision.
Tim felt something tear in his chest as his stomach became hard as stone. He knew discussions that began like this…
*
- I know you never want to talk about it. But you can’t ask me not to worry. So we’re going to talk about it one time and then I won’t broach the subject again.
- Okay.
- Good. You know going out with someone is never easy with what we do. Perhaps it’s with people like us, which implies going out with someone who has a huge amount of chances to die. Perhaps it’s with a civilian, knowing full well that we can’t for sure ever confess who we are. But in this case, you’re joining the fact of not being able to tell them who you truly are on top of the fact that he risks his life each day. It’s maybe a little earlier, but have you thought of how your relationship could go forward?
- I’ve… No. I tried at first. I really tried, Dick. To be rational, to convince myself that this could only ever go badly, to be reasonable… But I couldn’t. No, I don’t see how it could be a truly equal relationship. But I feel good with him, Dick.
*
Tim felt the blood pulsing at his temples. It was ridiculous. It had only been two months. He hadn’t really had the time to get attached, he realized. And then it was a relationship almost doomed from the start. This would stop them from hating each other if they did it quickly. His life would become simpler, and Bruce and Dick would stop worrying. Furthermore, if this ended before they had feelings for each other, they would suffer less.
Something protested painfully in his chest, and he clenched his fists.
- This wasn’t easy… Or so to say nothing with our situation has ever been easy… But I think this will be better for both of us.
His procrastinations began to annoy Tim, and he began to tear with his teeth at the skin of his lips to calm his nerves.
*
- There’s always a risk when you go out with someone. But he’s a superhero, he’ll make certain links more quickly. There’s a chance he’ll discover your identity one day. Have you thought of what will happen then?
- He’ll hate me. And definitely won’t want to see me again.
- Well that’s all right. Really no reason for me to worry.
- Dick… I’m trying to be reasonable: I don’t think he’ll change his mind about Robin one day.
*
Tim forced himself to blink. His eyes were becoming too dry with the force of staring at him like this. Superboy, on the other hand, hadn’t detached his face from his knees since he’d sat down. He finally took a deep breath and raised his head.
- Well. What I’m trying to say is…
He stopped, realizing the tension and distance emanating from Tim. His face fell.
- Tim…? What is it? You don’t feel well?
He leaned towards Tim, worried. Tim gritted his teeth and swallowed with some difficulty.
- If you have something to say, I’d be grateful if you do it quickly.
*
- So, if I’m summarizing well, you’re going out with a superhero, who doesn’t know you’re Robin, who hates your masked alter-ego, who will surely hate you if he learns your identity, and who you can’t see how you could have a future with. And the worst part is that I can’t even use the lean charisma that the Nightwing mask gives me to threaten him with a painful death if he ever breaks your heart!!
- I know. It’s really awful, Dick. I’m sorry.
- Tim. It sucks. Truly.
- …I know.
*
Superboy’s eyes widened and he began to stammer.
- I, uh… Okay.
He closed his eyes for a few seconds, anchored his gaze in Tim’s once reopened, and grabbed his hand.
- Tim… I want to tell you my name. My real name.
Tim felt his face lengthen and his eyes grow round. The pain slowly left his stomach. To be replaced by a panicked fear.
*
- The problem, Tim. It’s that I know you. After a while, you’re going to feel guilty for not being able to tell him your identity. It’s okay as long as he stays limited to his role as a superhero. You’ll have the impression that there’s a certain equality if you don’t tell him that you’re Robin. You’ll each have a secret. But if he wants to go further with you, build something, and wants to tell you his civilian identity…
- …
- You’ll find that your relationship is no longer equal. That he’s giving you more and that you can’t. You’re going to feel guilty and little by little it’s going to eat at you.
*
Tim rushed to cover his mouth before he continued.
- You can’t! You can’t tell me that!
Superboy blinked. Tim plastered his fingers a little against his mouth.
- You don’t realize?! It’s too dangerous! And if I ever sold the information! Everyone you love will be in danger!
Superboy passed through several moments of complete incomprehension, then calmed down. He delicately grabbed Tim’s wrists and forced them to move away. Tim resisted at first but could only abandon it. A tranquil smile stretched Superboy’s lips when his fingers came off.
- I love you.
Tim froze. He didn’t really relax, but Superboy’s words surprised him enough that he stopped struggling. His chest contracted now in an entirely different way. Tim settled for looking at him almost pleadingly, searching for words.
- And if I were a spy? If I were working for Lex Luthor? If my only goal had only ever been to extract your identity?
Superboy began to laugh.
- Then you’d be a really determined and well-planted spy.
- Those exist and you know it.
He ran his hand through Tim’s hair, an indulgent smile on his lips.
- Anyway, it wouldn’t be a big deal. It’s not my civilian name. I don’t really have one yet. But I find it ridiculous that you keep calling me “Superboy” when I’m calling you “Tim.” That’s not even a name. It’s almost a definition.
Tim calmed down a little but remained wary. He fluffed up the hem of his jeans, uncertain.
- You’re sure? Because it doesn’t bother me. I’d understand if you want to wait a little longer. And you're certain it can’t be used against you or your loved ones?
- It’s my alien name. It’s Superman that gave it to me. It’s just in connection with his home planet. That’s all.
Tim hesitated a moment longer, biting hard at his lips, but he finally nodded his head.
*
- You sure of what you’re doing?
- No! No Dick I am not sure! I don’t even know where this is taking me! Maybe I’ll have my heart broken ten times! It’s surely the least stable relationship I could get into! But that’s how it is! And I don’t want us to break up.
- Are you in love?
- No! I don’t know… Maybe. It’s really too soon to say.
- Okay, okay. You’re just ready to have your heart broken ten times sooner than leave him. But you aren’t already maybe in love.
- Screw you…
- Listen, for me there’s only two things I want. First, for you to be happy. And then, that you introduce me, introduce “Dick Grayson” to him as soon as possible so that I can threaten to make him fear kryptonite if he makes you suffer.
*
It was now that he had the permission to talk that Superboy seemed to hesitate the most. He caught Tim’s hands, as if to give himself the courage.
- Well… It’s a little weird that it’s an alien name… It’s… It has nothing to do with names on Earth but…
He breathed lightly and decided at last.
- My Kryptonian name is “Kon-El.”
Tim gradually integrated the different sounds that formed his name. It was like discovering a new adjective which came to define something he knew but in a whole new way.
- Kon. El.
- Yeah!
He seemed delighted that Tim was calling him it. Tim smiled, already busy analyzing the new name. His brain cross-referenced it with all the civilizations and mythologies he knew.
- Is the “El” a particle for light, like with angels?
Superboy stopped for a moment, then an immense smile stretched his lips, flattered by the image. Tim realized the comparison and felt his cheeks heat up.
- No, no. It’s the name of my house. Like if Kon were my name and El’s my last name.
*
- Well, Tim, I’m going to close this conversation and we won’t ever talk about it again.
- Thanks Dick.
- It’s normal, little brother. I just want us to be able to discuss the whole situation together. The bad points and… the not so bad points.
- Yeah... And you know?
- Hm?
*
Tim sat up on his knees and approached him. He was a little raised, and Superboy, sitting cross-legged, had to raise his eyes up to him. Tim ran a hand through his hair, playing with the curls, and placed the other at the base of his throat.
- “Kon” then?
An immense smile stretched Superboy’s lips
- Yeah. Kon.
The smile gradually came to contaminate Tim’s lips, and he leaned in to kiss him. Superboy’s hands drew Tim closer to him, helping his legs settle on either side of his body. One of his hands rested on Tim’s thigh while the other came back up around his back, plastering Tim even more against him. Tim’s fingers clung a little more firmly in his black curls, and he parted his mouth to deepen the kiss.
A suspicious noise could have come from the corridor at that moment, and Tim wasn’t sure he’d have been able to stop.
*
- It surely won’t be easy but… It’s worth it. It’s really worth it, Dick.
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