Chapter Text
The late July sun sits high over the shore, turning the water into glassy sheets of silver-blue and the pale sand nearly white-hot beneath their feet. Cass squints toward the waves where her brothers have already staked their territory— Dick lightly dozing under the shade of the umbrella, Jason trying (and failing) to skim flat stones across the lazy surf, Tim and Duke building a crooked sandcastle that’s one sneeze away from collapse.
She’s halfway through setting down her towel when a familiar voice carries across the beach. “Hey, Princess! You gonna actually swim, or just stand there lookin’ like an ad for Coppertone?”
Cass doesn’t even have to look up. “Jay,” she says simply, shaking out her towel before sitting.
Jason grins, unfazed by the lack of reaction. “What? I’m just saying, if the tabloids ever catch wind of us being here, you’re the one they’ll plaster on the cover. ‘Billionaire’s Daughter Enjoys Fun in the Sun While Normal Kids Melt.’”
Dick, stretched out nearby with sunglasses on, doesn’t even open his eyes. “Don’t give them ideas, Jay. Last time they caught us at the beach, you were eating sand.”
Jason shoots him a glare. “Oh, how quickly you forget who exactly was feeding me that sand.”
Cass hides her smile behind a bottle of sunscreen as Kon drops down beside her, plopping his bag onto the sand. He’s wearing his usual smirk, hair still wet from a morning swim with Duke. “You guys ever do anything without roasting each other?” he asks, shaking out his towel beside hers.
“Not really,” Dick answers easily. “It’s how we bond.”
Kon laughs and shoots Cass a look. “Guess that means I fit right in.”
“Mm,” she hums, smearing sunscreen on her arms. “Not yet. Jason is… watching you.”
Jason, already halfway into the water, turns and points at them. “She’s not wrong! We still got a volleyball match coming up, Metropolis. You, me, two on two— if you’re brave enough to look like an idiot in front of my bouncing baby sister.”
Cass feels her cheeks burn at the title before she can stop it. Kon, of course, just grins wider. “Sure thing, tough guy. But you better be ready to lose in front of your whole family.”
Dick groans as if in pain. “Oh god, please no. He’ll be insufferable for the rest of the trip. Kon, I’ll pay you to lose.”
Jason points dramatically at Dick. “You’re wrong! If he beats me, he’ll have earned my respect!”
“Uh-huh,” Duke calls from the shallows, where he’s now trying to convince Tim that one of the tide pool rocks smells like vanilla if you scratch and sniff it. “You respect nothing.”
Cass watches all of them, the easy rhythm of their bickering almost musical. It’s loud, messy, and perfect in its own way. She’d missed this— the sound of home outside the walls of the manor.
Kon leans closer, brushing a bit of sand from her knee with his thumb before she can stop him. “Your family’s awesome,” he says quietly, voice low enough that only she hears it.
“Loud,” Cass corrects, but she’s smiling.
“Yeah, well. Loud can be good. Better to fill the silence with love than not at all.”
She glances at him, wondering if he really meant it that way. There’s something soft behind his grin— some flicker of understanding she doesn’t quite know how to name.
Before she can ask, Jason splashes toward them. “Alright, lovebirds, break it up! Volleyball court’s set, and I’ve decided on the teams.”
“Let me guess,” Kon says, standing. “You and Dick?”
“Nope.” Jason tosses him a ball and jerks his thumb toward the rest of the group. “Me and Cass versus you and Dick. Duke’s the ref, Tim’s the, uh, snack monitor or whatever he’s doing with that cooler.”
Tim lifts his head indignantly. “Snack strategist, thank you very much.”
The match starts chaotically. Duke’s “referee” calls are horribly biased, but nobody can figure out exactly who they’re biased towards at any given call, Tim keeps handing out popsicles mid-play, and Dick insists on playing barefoot despite burning his soles every other serve. Cass surprises them all with her serve, sending the ball sailing over the net with perfect aim, catching Kon square in the shoulder.
“Whoa! Assassination attempt noted!” he yelps, laughing as he dives for the ball and misses completely.
Jason throws both arms up. “Point Wonder Twins! See, Cassie’s on fire today.”
“You’d be on fire too if you stopped diving face-first into the sand,” Dick retorts. “See? You’ve got a taste for it.”
The game dissolves into laughter, half-hearted competition, and more sand than actual skill. Cass doesn’t remember the score by the time they call it quits, with only the echo of Kon’s laughter, the warmth of the sun on her back, and the easy chaos of everyone yelling over each other as they collapse in the shade of the umbrella.
“Alright,” Dick announces, collapsing onto his towel, “lunch break. Ten bucks says Alfred packed enough for the entire coastline.”
“He probably did,” Duke says, opening the massive cooler to reveal neat rows of sandwiches, fruit, and little bags of chips.
Tim beams. “Told you! Snack strategist always wins.”
Cass sits cross-legged beside Kon, biting into a turkey sandwich as the boys debate who’s getting first dibs on the lemonade. Jason nudges Kon’s shoulder with his. “Not bad, new guy. You don’t completely suck.”
“High praise,” Kon replies, deadpan. “I’ll put it on my resume.”
Jason snorts. “Do that. Maybe I’ll stop trying to trip you in the surf next time.”
“I’ll believe it when it happens.”
They both laugh, and Cass watches them; Jason’s sharp edges softening just slightly, Kon fitting himself into the rhythm of their family without forcing it. For the first time since the ice cream shop, she feels something soft settle in her chest.
This, she thinks, is how summer should feel.
As the afternoon stretches on, they drift back toward the water, the heat mellowing and the air turning syrupy with salt and sun. Cass finds herself side by side with Kon again, watching Duke and Tim as they challenge Dick to a race. Somewhere in the distance, Jason’s music blares faintly from a portable radio.
“Hey,” Kon says, nudging her shoulder lightly. “If we win next time, I’m picking the teams.”
Cass raises an eyebrow. “You just want to be on my team.”
He grins. “You caught me.”
The sun has slipped low enough that the horizon looks painted in watercolors, the ocean throwing back the light in a shimmering haze. The air hums with the far off horns of fishing boats migrating back to harbor, their harmony melting into the gentle hiss of the tide. Most of the group has shifted from the water to the firepit, where Dick and Jason are trying (and failing) to get damp driftwood to cooperate.
Cass sits closer to the shoreline with Kon, their feet buried in cool sand. The last of the day’s heat still lingers on her shoulders. The two of them had spent nearly an hour floating past the sandbar earlier, Kon daring her into races that always ended in splashes and laughter that carried across the cove. Now, though, everything feels slower. Quieter.
“You ever notice,” Kon says, drawing a lazy pattern into the sand between them, “that the ocean always sounds kinda different at night?”
Cass hums, her head bobbing in a slow nod. “Less loud. More… alive.”
He looks over at her, the corners of his mouth twitching into that smile that always seems to find her even when she’s trying not to look at him. “You say stuff like that and I just can’t believe you grew up with those loudmouth guys. You actually think before you talk.”
“Sometimes,” she says, teasing softly. “When you let me.”
“Ouch. Okay, deserved.” He laughs, tipping his head back to stare at the sky. “Still, I mean it. You’re incredible.”
The compliment hangs there, caught somewhere between the sound of waves and the flicker of the fire behind them. Cass doesn’t know what to say, but her stomach gives that same tiny flutter it always does when he looks at her like that— like he’s seeing something she didn’t even know was visible.
Kon scoops up a small handful of wet sand, shaping it between his palms. “You think your brothers like me?”
Cass’s head tilts. “They don’t hate you.”
“That’s not a real answer.”
“They’re… curious,” she amends, turning slightly toward him. “Protective.”
“Yeah, I got that when Jason gave me the ‘hurt-her-and-I-bury-you’ stare over lunch.”
Cass can’t help the laugh that escapes her. “He gives that to everyone.”
“Well, good. I’d hate to think I was special.”
She grins, and for a long moment neither of them says anything. The air feels charged, soft, full of salt and something unspoken. The faint glow from the firepit paints his profile in gold, and Cass realizes how close they’ve drifted without meaning to. Her hand is half-buried in the sand, his just grains away.
Kon shifts, his voice quieter now. “You know…”
Whatever he meant to say dies in his throat. He just looks at her instead, eyes flicking from hers to her mouth and back again. Cass feels her breath catch. The sound of the waves fade. She doesn’t move when he leans in just slightly, close enough that she can see the faint spray of freckles across his nose, the way his lashes tremble when he hesitates.
She doesn’t know who moves first, only that everything feels balanced on the edge of something new—
“HEY!”
Cass jumps, heart lurching as the shout carries from behind them. All four of her brothers stand framed by the glow of the fire, Duke waving both arms like he’s trying to flag down a helicopter.
“Cass! Kon! We’re making s’mores and Dick says we’re not allowed to eat all the chocolate until you come back!” Tim calls, the words tumbling out at double speed. Jason’s grin is far too knowing for her liking, and she can see him elbow Dick, murmuring something she’s sure she doesn’t want to hear.
Kon clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Saved by the s’mores,” he mutters under his breath, but there’s a smile in his voice.
Cass’s face is still burning as she gets to her feet. “Coming!” she calls, brushing the sand from her hands.
As they start back toward the fire, Kon glances sidelong at her. “So, uh… maybe later, when your army of brothers isn’t watching…”
Cass arches an eyebrow. “Them? Not watching? In your dreams.”
It’s enough to make a bark of laughter erupt from his chest.
By the time they reach the others, Duke’s already melted half a marshmallow onto his stick, Tim’s recounting an exaggerated version of Cass nearly tripping into the ocean earlier, and Jason’s threatening to toss him into the waves if he doesn’t stop talking. Cass settles onto the sand between Dick and Kon, and when Kon passes her a marshmallow, their fingers brush for just a heartbeat.
It’s small, simple, and easy to miss— but not to her.
The stars come out one by one, the laughter rising again. Whatever almost happened by the water stays between the tide and the two of them. For now.