Chapter Text
Tim's eyes burned.
He'd been staring at the ceiling for hours, the same scene replaying in his mind over and over again.
"But I also know you're not interested. Even I'm not stupid enough to not see that."
Kon's voice. So resigned. So sure.
And Tim had let him walk away.
He'd lain in that field, frozen, unable to speak. Unable to tell Kon that he was wrong. That Tim was interested—terrifyingly, impossibly interested—and he didn't know what to do with that.
But the words hadn't come. They never came when he needed them most.
Tim pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, trying to stop the tears that threatened to spill. He hadn't slept. Not a single minute. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Kon's sad smile. Heard his soft "Bye, Tim."
It was almost morning now. The sky outside his window was starting to lighten, pale gray replacing the deep black of night. Tim should get up. Should get ready for the gala. Should pretend like everything was fine.
But he couldn't move.
A soft knock on his door made him flinch.
"Tim?" Dick's voice was gentle, muffled through the wood. "You awake?"
Tim opened his mouth to say no. To tell Dick to go away. But his voice came out as a croak.
"Yeah."
The door creaked open. Dick stepped in, his expression shifting from concern to alarm when he saw Tim's face.
"Whoa. You look terrible."
"Thanks." Tim's voice was flat. "Really know how to make a guy feel special."
Dick ignored the sarcasm, crossing the room to sit on the edge of Tim's bed. "Did you sleep at all?"
"No."
"Tim—"
"I'm fine." Tim's voice cracked. "I'm fine."
"You're not fine." Dick's voice was gentle. "You've been crying."
Tim's hand flew to his face. His cheeks were wet. He hadn't even noticed.
"Talk to me," Dick said softly. "What's going on?"
Tim shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Is it Kon?"
Tim flinched. Dick noticed.
"It is." Dick's voice was knowing. "What happened?"
"Nothing happened." Tim's voice was bitter. "That's the problem. Nothing happened."
He told Dick everything. The field. Kon's words. Tim's silence.
"He said he knew I wasn't interested," Tim whispered, his voice cracking. "And I just... I let him walk away. I didn't say anything. I couldn't say anything."
Dick was quiet for a moment. Then: "Why couldn't you say anything?"
"Because I—" Tim broke off, pressing a hand to his face. "Because he's right. I'm not interested. I can't be interested. It's too dangerous."
"Dangerous?"
"Everyone who gets close to me just wants my jewel. My money. My status." Tim's voice was raw. "I've been burned so many times. I can't—I can't go through that again."
Dick was quiet for a long moment. Then he reached over, squeezing Tim's shoulder.
"I understand," Dick said gently. "I really do. You've been through so much. And you've built these walls to protect yourself. I get it."
Tim looked up, his eyes red-rimmed.
"But Tim," Dick continued, his voice soft, "what if Kon isn't like the others? What if he actually sees you? The real you?"
Tim shook his head. "I don't know if I can take that risk."
"That's the thing about risks," Dick said gently. "Sometimes you have to take them to get something worth having."
Tim was quiet.
"The gala's tonight," Dick continued. "He'll be there. You could talk to him. Tell him how you really feel."
Tim's heart pounded. "I can't—"
"You can." Dick squeezed his shoulder. "You're the bravest person I know, Tim. You've survived things that would break most people. This is nothing compared to that."
Tim laughed, hollow and bitter. "This is everything compared to that."
"Then it's worth fighting for."
Tim didn't say anything. His throat was too tight.
Dick stood up, heading for the door. He paused, looking back.
"Just think about it, okay? That's all I'm asking."
He left, closing the door softly behind him.
Tim lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
The gala was tonight. Kon would be there. Tim could talk to him. Could tell him the truth.
Or he could let Kon walk away forever.
Tim pressed his palms against his eyes, a tear slipping through. He didn't know what to do.
***
The gala was in full swing.
Tim stood near the edge of the ballroom, a glass of champagne in his hand that he hadn't touched. The room was filled with people—Gotham's elite, socialites, business partners, and the Kent family, who had been invited as guests of honor.
Tim had been scanning the crowd for the past hour. He told himself he was just surveying the room, making sure everything was running smoothly. It was his job, after all.
He was lying.
He was looking for Kon.
He hadn't seen him since the field. Since Kon had laid his heart bare and Tim had let him walk away. Since Tim had spent the entire night staring at the ceiling, replaying every word.
Since he'd realized, too late, that he might have made the biggest mistake of his life.
"Looking for someone?"
Tim nearly jumped out of his skin. Dick was suddenly beside him, a knowing smile on his face.
"I'm not looking for anyone," Tim said, his voice flat. "I'm surveying."
"Surveying," Dick repeated, his smile widening. "Right. That's definitely what you're doing."
"It is."
"You've been standing here for an hour. You haven't moved. You haven't talked to anyone. And you've been staring at the same spot on the wall for the past ten minutes."
Tim's face went red. "I was thinking."
"About Kon?"
"I wasn't—"
"You were. It's okay. I don't judge." Dick's voice was light, teasing. "He does look very handsome tonight, doesn't he? That suit really brings out his eyes."
Tim's heart stuttered. "I haven't noticed."
"Liar."
"I'm not—"
"You were staring at him five minutes ago. Before he moved to the other side of the room." Dick's grin was insufferable. "It's okay, Tim. You can admit it. He's a good-looking guy."
Tim's grip on his champagne glass tightened. "I don't care what he looks like."
"Right. That's why you've been following him with your eyes all night."
"I haven't been—"
"You have. It's adorable, honestly. A little pathetic, but adorable."
Tim glared at him. "Why are you even talking to me? Don't you have people to schmooze?"
"I'm schmoozing you."
"I'm not a schmooze-able person."
"You're my favorite person to schmooze." Dick's expression softened. "Seriously, Tim. Are you okay?"
Tim opened his mouth to say yes. To lie. To pretend everything was fine.
But the words wouldn't come.
"I don't know," he admitted quietly. "I haven't seen him since... you know."
"Since the field?"
"Yeah." Tim's throat was tight. "I didn't say anything. I just let him walk away. And now—"
"Now you're regretting it?"
Tim nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
Dick was quiet for a moment. Then, his voice casual: "He's been talking to a lot of people tonight."
Tim blinked. "What?"
"Kon. He's been very charming. Very friendly. I saw him talking to some of the guests earlier. He has a way of making people feel special, doesn't he?"
Tim's chest tightened. "I don't care who he talks to."
"Really? Because you look like you care." Dick tilted his head. "I think I saw him with Jason earlier. They were laughing about something. Seemed pretty close."
Tim stiffened. "Jason is here?"
"Yeah. He showed up about an hour ago. He and Kon seemed to hit it off." Dick's voice was innocent. "I wonder what they were talking about?"
Tim's jaw tightened. His hands were shaking.
"Tim?" Dick's voice was soft. "You okay?"
"I'm fine." Tim's voice was clipped. "I don't care who he talks to. He can talk to whoever he wants."
"Even Jason?"
"Especially Jason."
"Wow." Dick's smile was knowing. "That's very mature of you."
"Shut up, Dick."
"I'm just saying. If it doesn't bother you, why does your face look like you just bit into a lemon?"
Tim opened his mouth to argue, but then his eyes caught movement across the room.
Jason was standing near the bar, his arm around Kon's shoulders, laughing at something Kon had said.
Kon was laughing too. His smile was bright, genuine. Like he hadn't just had his heart broken two days ago.
Like he'd already moved on.
Tim's vision went red.
"I have to go," he said abruptly.
"Go where?"
"Anywhere but here."
Tim set his champagne glass down and started walking. He didn't know where he was going. He just knew he couldn't stay here. Couldn't watch Kon smile at someone else. Couldn't watch him move on like Tim had never mattered.
But then he saw Jason's hand slide down Kon's arm. Saw Kon lean in to hear something Jason was saying. Saw the way they were standing so close, like they had no boundaries at all.
Tim stopped walking.
His hands were trembling. His heart was pounding. His eyes were burning with something that felt a lot like jealousy.
And that's when Dick appeared at his side again.
"Tim," Dick said softly. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"No," Tim whispered. "I'm not okay."
And then he was moving again, but this time, he knew exactly where he was going.
Tim stormed through the crowd, his vision tunneled on the two figures near the bar. Jason's arm was still draped around Kon's shoulders. Kon was still laughing, his head tilted back, his smile wide and unguarded.
It was the smile Tim had wanted to see directed at him. The smile he'd pushed away.
"Follow me." It wasn't a request. It was a demand.
Kon's head snapped up, his eyes widening when he saw Tim. "Uh, sure—woah!"
Tim grabbed Kon's wrist and dragged him through the crowd. He heard Jason's surprised laugh behind them, heard someone—maybe Dick—call out his name. He didn't care.
He pushed open the glass doors to the balcony and let them swing shut behind them.
The night air was cool against Tim's burning skin. The city lights glittered below them, distant and uncaring. Tim's heart was pounding so hard he could barely hear himself think.
"Tim, you okay?" Kon's voice was concerned, his brow furrowed. "What's going on?"
"How dare you."
Kon blinked. "What?"
"How dare you try and be intimate with someone else when you are trying to court me?" The words burst out of Tim before he could stop them. He hadn't even realized he was this angry. This hurt. This terrified.
Kon's face went through a series of expressions—confusion, surprise, and then something that looked almost like hope. "What? I'm not—"
"Don't lie to me." Tim's voice was sharp. "I saw you with Jason. Laughing. Touching. You looked—" His voice cracked. "You looked so happy. Like you'd already moved on."
Kon shook his head, his expression earnest. "Tim, I'm not trying to hook up with him. He was giving me advice."
"Advice? What kind of advice?"
"The kind that involves you punching me in the face if I mess up." Kon's voice was gentle now. "He's your brother, Tim. He was looking out for you."
Tim's breath caught. His anger flickered, replaced by something more vulnerable. More terrifying.
"And—" Kon's voice was quieter now, almost hesitant. "Why is this even bothering you? You don't even want to be with me."
Tim felt his lower lip quiver. He hated himself for it. "I-"
"Did it have to be my miscreant brother?" Tim's voice was shaking. He was rambling now, the words spilling out before he could stop them. "You could have picked anyone else, and you picked Jason. My brother. The one who—"
"Tim." Kon stepped closer. "I'm not interested in Jason."
"Then why were you laughing with him? Why were you letting him touch you like that?" Tim's voice cracked. "Why did you look so happy when you walked away from me and didn't look back?"
Kon's expression softened. "Because he was telling me about the time you tried to cook and almost burned down the kitchen."
Tim blinked. "What?"
"And the time you fell asleep in the library and Damian drew a mustache on your face." Kon's smile was small, fond. "He was telling me stories about you, Tim. Because I asked him to. Because I wanted to know everything about you. Even the embarrassing parts."
Tim's throat was tight. "I don't—"
"Let me finish." Kon's voice was gentle but firm. "I followed you to that field because I couldn't stay away. I told you I knew you weren't interested because I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought if I let you go, you'd be happier. But I was wrong."
Tim's heart was pounding. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that I've been miserable." Kon's laugh tumbled out of him. "I've been walking around the manor like a ghost, trying to pretend I didn't care when all I could think about was you. How you looked in the moonlight. How you sounded when you talked about mysteries. How you—" He broke off, shaking his head. "How you made me feel like I was the only person in the room."
Tim's eyes burned. "Kon—"
"So when you ask me why I was laughing with Jason?" Kon's voice was soft. "It's because he was helping me. Helping me understand you. Helping me figure out how to get through to you. Because I couldn't stand the thought of giving up. Not when I—" He stopped, his cheeks flushing.
"Not when you what?" Tim whispered.
Kon met his eyes. "Not when I like you so much that my heart feels like it’ll leap out of my chest."
Tim's breath caught. "What?"
"I really like you, Tim." Kon's voice was raw, honest. "I know it's fast. I know it's crazy. But I've known since the field. Since I told you I knew you weren't interested and walked away. I knew I was crazy about you, and I couldn't do anything about it because you didn't want me."
Tim felt tears prick at his eyes. "That's not—you're wrong."
"Wrong about what?"
"I do want you." Tim's voice cracked. "I do. I just—" He pressed a hand to his chest, trying to calm his racing heart. "I've been so scared. Everyone who gets close to me just wants my jewel. I built these walls to protect myself, and then you showed up and just—" He laughed, wet and broken. "And you saw me. The real me. And I didn't know what to do with that."
Kon's eyes were soft. "Tim—"
"I pushed you away because I was terrified," Tim continued, the words tumbling out. "Terrified that you were just like everyone else. Terrified that I'd let myself feel something real and you'd break my heart. And then you told me you knew I wasn't interested, and I just—" He shook his head. "I let you walk away. Because I was too scared to tell you the truth."
Kon took a step closer. "What's the truth?"
Tim met his eyes. "That I really like you too."
Kon's breath caught.
"I've liked you since the moment you showed up in that study and asked me what my favorite color was," Tim continued, his voice shaking. "Since you noticed the cookies and my red tie and everything I thought no one saw. Since you knew I was lying about my favorite color and didn't get angry. Since you followed me to that field and told me you knew I wasn't interested, and I couldn't say anything because I was too busy trying not to fall apart."
He stepped closer, so close he could feel the warmth radiating off Kon's body. "I like you, Conner. I like you so much—no. I love you, and I'm sorry I let you walk away. I'm sorry I was too scared to say it sooner. I'm sorry—"
Kon silenced him with a kiss.
It was soft, tentative—a question more than a statement. Tim answered by leaning into it, his hands coming up to grip Kon's lapels.
Kon's lips were soft, warm. They tasted like champagne and something sweeter that Tim couldn't name. His hand slid to the back of Tim's neck, his fingers tangling in Tim's hair.
Tim melted into the kiss, letting himself feel for the first time in what felt like forever.
When they broke apart, Kon was grinning. "Wow."
"Wow?" Tim's voice was breathless.
"Wow." Kon pressed his forehead to Tim's. "That was worth the wait."
Tim laughed, bright and surprised. "You're impossible."
"You love it."
"I love you." Tim said it freely this time, without hesitation.
Kon's smile was blinding. "I know. I love you too."
Kon kissed his forehead. "I love you, Tim Drake. I love your grumpy face and your stupid lies about your favorite color and the way you pretend you don't care about video games when you clearly do."
Tim laughed. "I don't pretend."
"You do. It's adorable."
"I am not adorable."
"You're a little adorable."
Tim rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. He couldn't stop smiling.
"By the way," he said, his voice casual. "Have you seen Damian or Jon anywhere?"
Kon groaned. "We just had our first kiss, can we not talk about our brothers? I wanna bask in this."
Tim chuckled, grabbing Kon's hand. "We should probably go inside. They'll start the speeches soon."
"Five more minutes?" Kon tugged him closer. "Just five more minutes?"
Tim pretended to think about it. "Fine. Five minutes."
Kon kissed him again. Soft. Sweet. Full of promise.
Tim kissed him back, his heart full.
When they finally pulled apart, Kon was grinning. "So, does this mean we're officially courting?"
Tim snorted. "Who even courts nowadays anyway? Only Damian believes in that nonsense."
"I don't know. I think it's romantic." Kon's smile was soft. "Courting you. Winning you over. Proving that I'm not like the others."
Tim's heart swelled. "You already proved that."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Tim squeezed his hand. "You proved it the moment Dick told me you found Artichokes on pizza hot."
Kon's grin was blinding. "Does that mean I get another kiss?"
Tim rolled his eyes, but he was already leaning in. "You're insufferable."
"You love it."
"I tolerate it."
"That's basically the same thing."
And then Kon kissed him again—gentle, sweet, full of promise. Tim melted into it, his free hand coming up to cup Kon's jaw.
When they finally pulled apart, Tim was breathless. "Okay. Now we really need to go inside."
Kon sighed dramatically. "Fine. But I'm holding your hand the entire time."
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
Tim squeezed Kon's hand, and together, they pushed open the glass doors and stepped back into the ballroom.
The gala was still as lively as they it. People mingled, champagne glasses clinked, and the soft strains of music filled the air. Tim felt like he was seeing it all for the first time—brighter, warmer, more alive.
Kon's hand was warm in his, their fingers intertwined. Tim couldn't stop smiling. He was sure his face was red. He didn't care.
They maneuvered through the crowd, weaving between guests until they reached their seats near the front. The speeches were about to start, and Bruce was already making his way to the podium.
Tim slid into his seat, Kon right beside him. He kept his hand firmly in Kon's, ignoring the knowing looks from Dick, who was seated nearby with a triumphant grin.
"Took you long enough," Dick murmured, leaning over.
"Shut up, Dick."
"I'm just saying. I saw you two on the balcony. Very romantic."
Tim's face went red. "You saw—"
"Everyone saw." Dick's grin widened. "You're not exactly subtle."
Tim opened his mouth to retort, but then he caught movement from the corner of his eye.
Jon and Damian were sliding into their seats too, just a table away. They were both slightly out of breath, their faces flushed, their hair slightly disheveled. Damian's shirt was untucked. Jon's bow tie was crooked.
Tim's eyes narrowed.
Interesting.
He filed that observation away for future investigation. There was definitely something going on there. But right now, he had more important things to focus on.
Like the warm weight of Kon's hand in his. Like the way Kon was looking at him like he was the most precious thing in the world. Like the fact that, for the first time in years, Tim felt truly, utterly happy.
"Stop staring at me," Tim murmured, his cheeks warm.
"I'm not staring. I'm admiring."
"Same thing."
"Different thing." Kon squeezed his hand. "Admiring is appreciation. Staring is creepy. I'm definitely appreciating."
Tim snorted. "You're ridiculous."
"You love it."
"I'm starting to regret this."
"No, you're not." Kon's smile was soft. "You're the happiest I've ever seen you."
Tim opened his mouth to deny it, but the words wouldn't come. Because Kon was right. He was happy. Happier than he'd been in a long, long time.
"Maybe I am," Tim admitted quietly.
Kon's smile widened. "Good."
Bruce started his speech, welcoming everyone to the gala. Tim tried to pay attention—he really did. But Kon's thumb was tracing circles on the back of his hand, and it was incredibly distracting.
"You're doing that on purpose," Tim whispered.
"Doing what?"
"Distracting me."
Kon's grin was innocent. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Tim bit back a laugh. He could feel Dick's eyes on them, could practically hear his brother's smug satisfaction. He ignored him.
Jon and Damian had settled into their seats nearby. Jon was whispering something in Damian's ear, and Damian—miraculously—wasn't pulling away. In fact, he looked almost... relaxed.
Tim's eyes narrowed.
Definitely something going on there.
He made a mental note to interrogate Damian later. Or Jon. Whoever would crack first.
But for now, Tim let himself just exist in this moment. Kon's hand in his. The warmth of his presence. The sound of his quiet, steady breathing.
"So," Kon whispered, leaning closer. "Does this mean we're officially together?"
Tim pretended to think about it. "I don't know. Are you going to keep asking me questions?"
"Every morning."
"And are you going to keep noticing my favorite color?"
"It's red. I'll never stop noticing."
"And are you going to keep being ridiculously patient with me even when I'm being difficult?"
Kon grinned. "That's my specialty."
Tim smiled. "Then yes. We're together."
Kon's face lit up. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Kon kissed his cheek, quick and warm. "Best gala ever."
Tim laughed. "You're such a dork."
"Your dork."
"My dork," Tim agreed, and the words felt right. Felt like home.
The speech ended to polite applause. Tim clapped along with everyone else, his heart full. He caught Dick's eye, and Dick gave him a thumbs up. Tim rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.
He glanced over at Jon and Damian. They were talking quietly, their heads bent together. Damian's cheeks were flushed. Jon was grinning.
Future investigation, Tim thought. Definitely future investigation.
But right now, he was too happy to care.
He leaned into Kon, resting his head on his shoulder. Kon's arm came up around him, pulling him closer.
"This is nice," Kon murmured.
"Yeah," Tim agreed. "It really is."
They sat there together, watching the rest of the gala unfold. The speeches continued. The music played. The guests mingled.
But all Tim could focus on was Kon. His warmth. His presence. The way he made everything feel lighter. Brighter. Better.
"Hey, Tim?" Kon's voice was soft.
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
Tim's heart swelled. "I love you too."
Kon pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Just checking."
Tim smiled. "You're ridiculous."
"You love it."
"I really do."
A NEAR FUTURE LATER:
Tim was focused on the screen, his fingers flying over the controller as his character drifted around a sharp corner. Mario Kart was intense—more intense than he'd ever admit out loud. Jon was in the lead, just a few seconds ahead, and Tim was determined to close the gap.
"By the way," Tim said, his voice strained with concentration, "how come you were talking with Jason of all people?"
He bit his lower lip as he tried to focus on winning and asking at the same time. It was a delicate balance. One he was currently failing at.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you." Kon was watching Tim with an amused expression, clearly enjoying the show. "Me and Jason go way back." He chuckled, low and warm.
Tim shot him a skeptical glance before looking back at the screen. His character was gaining on Jon's. "Way back?"
"Yeah. I've known him before he was even adopted." Kon's voice was casual, like he was discussing the weather.
"Hm." Tim's eyes narrowed. "You weren't ever interested in him?"
Kon's laugh tumbled out, the sound popping the 'p'. "Nope."
Tim felt a warmth spread through his chest. He tried to hide his smile, but he was pretty sure he was failing.
"Beat him, Jon." Damian's voice was sharp, demanding. He was leaning forward on the couch, his eyes fixed on the screen. He was a lot more interested than he let on.
"Hey, I'm your brother." Tim frowned at Damian's words, but his attention never left the race.
"By name, Drake." Damian rolled his eyes. "Nothing more."
The finishing music blasted through the speakers as Jon's character crossed the finish line. Tim's followed close after, just a fraction of a second behind.
Tim groaned, leaning back against the couch. "Yes!" Damian practically cheered, shaking Jon's arm with uncharacteristic excitement.
"I won!" Jon's grin was triumphant. "Did you see that? I totally dominated!"
"I could have beaten you," Tim muttered, but there was no heat in it.
"Sure you could have." Jon's voice was smug.
Tim was about to retort when Kon sat down next to him, his warmth immediately present. Kon leaned in and pressed a kiss to Tim's cheek, soft and quick.
"You're still my winner," Kon murmured, his grin wide and warm.
Tim turned his head and kissed Kon on the lips in return. It was brief, but sweet. Kon's hand found his, their fingers intertwining.
Tim felt like he was forgetting something. Something important.
Right.
"What's going on between you two?"
Damian and Jon both looked at Tim, their expressions shifting. Damian's hands were still wrapped around Jon's arm, his grip tight. He looked like a deer caught in headlights.
"What are you implying?" Damian's voice was sharp, his glare intensifying. But there was something else there too. Something almost nervous.
"Nothing." Tim's voice was innocent. "You're just…" He trailed off, searching for the right word. "Touchy. Yeah. You're a lot more touchy with him than most." A teasing smirk played at his lips as he watched their reactions.
Damian's hands instantly let go of Jon's arm, his glare coming back in full force. "I am not being touchy with him."
"Maybe it's because I'm not most," Jon said at the same time, his voice lighter, more teasing.
Their words overlapped, and they looked at each other. Damian clicked his tongue, turning back to the screen. He started up the next game with unnecessary aggression, his jaw tight.
Jon just shrugged at Tim, a knowing smile on his face.
Tim's eyes narrowed.
Definitely need to explore that later.