Chapter Text
Mark’s not so good at the whole “hide your secret identity” thing yet.
Johnny—Batman, he corrects himself quickly, because one never knows when there’s a telepath nearby, keeps warning him to stop swinging around so much when he’s in his civvies, but Mark can’t help himself. So what if that weird Daniel kid from his calculus class saw him swinging from a streetlight once? He can always blame it on his late parents being acrobats.
Anyways, so Mark’s getting an earful from Batman down the little receiver hooked into his ear right beneath his cartilage piercing about being more responsible, Mark, you’re going to get yourself into danger, when he spots something in the sky. A shooting star, he writes off at first, but then the little fleck of color moves quicker and quicker, increasing in size.
So much for a peaceful night.
Mark watches whatever the thing is shoot across the night sky, over the skyscrapers of Gotham, nearly crashing into Seo Tower, which Johnny wouldn’t be very happy about, so he thanks his stars—haha, pun intended—that it doesn’t hit the massive building and makes impact with a little alleyway in the seedier side of Gotham, a couple blocks from Mark’s perch on a rooftop. The crash makes everything rock slightly, and he hears a couple people shout down on the streets about an earthquake.
Mark curses under his breath. Leaping over a couple rooftops and using his grappling gun to swing through some streets, he finds himself above the site of the disaster.
The smoke’s too thick for him to be seeing much, but he leans over the ledge of the building as far as he can, peering into the dark.
“Uh, Bats,” he says into the com device, “I think we have a…situation.”
Johnny’s strained voice comes over the com. “A little busy here, Robin,” There’s a pained yelp as Mark assumes Johnny’s caught a punch with his stomach, and then a familiar ringing laugh. Catman, also known as Ten, also known as Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, also known as the reason Mark insists on soundproofing his room at Seo manor. The only thing he likes better than stealing jewels is Johnny’s dick, much to Mark’s absolute horror.
Abandoning any hope of Johnny’s help, he swings off the rooftop and into the smoke, praying that it’s not some kind of ambush. Thankfully, the smoke’s beginning to clear a little, and when Mark lands on the pavement, he can make out, among the smoldering rubble, a figure.
A very naked, very bronzy, very glowing figure.
Mark’s dealt with aliens before, but this one takes him by surprise. He just looks like… a boy Mark’s own age. Albeit glowing, and with bright green eyes when he opens them, no pupils or whites, but a boy nonetheless.
Mark realizes the reason there’s so much smoke isn’t just the crash. The alien boy’s tanned skin is burning, tiny wisps of smoke rising from his bare shoulders, his hair flickering burnished orange like a flame.
Mark’s on guard, every corded, trained muscle in his body tense, but he drops out of his fighting stance. “Hi,” he says hesitantly, “Are you alright?”
The boy blinks. He opens his mouth and says something Mark couldn’t repeat if he tried. Probably wouldn’t even be physically capable of mimicking.
Abruptly, the boy surges forward, and Mark’s body acts on instinct, trying to move back, but the guy’s got unanticipated superhuman strength, and he’s in front of Mark in a second.
Kissing him.
Mark’s mind is always organized and calm when he has the suit on. Always. It’s the one thing he prides himself in, but as soon as the boy’s warm lips are closed over his own, Mark’s entire brain falls into chaos, a strange shock of heat running up his spine, making his knees weak and his stomach churn.
He’s really sweet about it too, his lips all soft against Mark’s, hands gripping his shoulders lightly, then down his cape to hold onto the fabric.
And then it’s over. The boy pulls back, licks his lips, and says without a shred of shame, “What planet am I on?”
Mark thinks he needs some backup.
-
Exactly twenty minutes later, the alien (Koriand’r, he’d insisted. Lee Donghyuck, Johnny says firmly, deciding on a random alias) is sitting at the kitchen table of Seo manor clad in a pair of Mark’s sweatpants that threaten to slip off his slender hips and an old shirt with Gotham Academy printed across the front.
“These are unnecessary,” he’d said when Mark had tried handing them to him. “My people do not restrain ourselves with fabric like this.”
“My people don’t walk around with their-“
“Robin.”
Mark had tossed Johnny a semi-apologetic look for that one, but he’d shoved the clothes into Donghyuck’s lap anyways with a firm, “Get dressed. Earth rules.”
“Who are you and why are you here?” Johnny asks when Donghyuck’s sitting at the table with a glass of water in front of him. “Especially without a ship and with no way of going back?”
Donghyuck bites his lip, and his dark cheeks flush a shade warmer. “I am the second Tamaranean prince,” he says, “And I’ve been exiled from my planet to live here like a peasant. A commoner. A bottom feeding, lowlife-“
“Okay,” Mark cuts in, annoyed. “But why did you have to kiss me?”
Johnny’s eyebrows shoot up at that. He’d omitted that tiny detail in his report.
“To learn your language,” Donghyuck blinks, “Why else?” Right. Alien species.
Mark shakes his head, pulling out a chair at the table and sitting in it. “What are we going to do with him?” This is directed at Johnny, who’s begun pacing. Mark notices that he hasn’t bothered to take off the batsuit or the cowl.
“More importantly, why haven’t we shown him some hospitality?”
Mark and Johnny turn automatically to the source of the voice. Taeil’s leaning against the doorway of the kitchen and fixing them both with his very best disappointed old man look. They both shudder a little under the weight of the gaze.
Taeil had been Johnny’s only confidant until Mark had come along. Most of the time, he’s in the chair down in the Cave when Mark and Johnny are out on patrol, or in the kitchen fiddling around with the oven.
Taeil brushes past Johnny to get to Donghyuck, stopping to tug off the cowl in the process. Johnny makes a noise in protest, but Taeil says, “As if they know or care who Batman is on Tamaran.”
Johnny runs a hair through his hair to push it off his forehead and slumps down into a chair as well.
Mark’s never going to get tired of how young Johnny looks under the batsuit. He’s only in his mid-twenties, after all, no matter how much he wants to act like an angst-riddled old man. To the public, Batman and Robin have a father-son relationship. In truth, Johnny’s more like a cool, occasionally overprotective older brother.
He looks at Mark, sighs long and deep, and Mark gets an instant bad feeling in his stomach. “I have an idea on what to do with him. But you’re not going to like it.”
-
Mark loves being a Titan. Being part of the dynamic duo’s cool and all, and he loves Johnny to pieces, but the Titans.
Shadowy, sweet Renjun, clever Jisung, Jeno and Jaemin who stick together like dark and light, and Chenle, who can not keep his mouth shut for a second besides when he’s doing magic tricks, either to amuse them or catch bad guys. Gotham’s always going to be his physical home, but the Titans are Home. Where he belongs.
Away from Johnny’s overbearing nature and Taeil’s lectures about being careful, Mark’s the leader of his own team, and it’s mind blowing, adrenaline pumping, wind-through-your-hair freedom. It’s the feeling of being on a trapeze, swinging so hard through the air that it feels like he’s flying.
He doesn’t know what he’s expecting, bringing Donghyuck here. According to Johnny, being with other young powered teens is the best way to assimilate him to Earth with minimum risk. So, a week after Donghyuck had crash landed in Gotham, Mark takes him to Titans Tower to introduce him to the rest of the team.
Donghyuck grumbles the whole trip, “Why can’t I just fly there? I hate being cooped up in ships for too long.”
Mark knows better than to let him out of his sight by now. Back at Gotham, they’d left three star-blasted billboards and the burnt remains of a tree from Donghyuck showing them the extent of his powers.
“Mark,” Donghyuck whines, eyes glowing bright green.
Without looking up from the control panel of the jet, Mark says, “No star-bolts in close quarters unless it’s a training room.”
“Why can’t I fly? I’m not a kid.” The tips of his bright hair are beginning to smoke wispily, and Mark knows that’s a bad sign.
“You can see the tower,” he points out hastily, “See? We’re already here.”
He only lets out a breath when Donghyuck crosses his arms in front of his chest and settles back into the chair.
Landing the jet on the strip on the roof, Mark stands up and stretches out his stiff limbs. Donghyuck’s already floating towards the door, but Mark calls out, “Hey,” and makes him turn.
“What?”
Mark shifts a little on his feet. He strips off the mask from over his eyes, shoving it in the pocket of his jacket. Donghyuck is still floating by the door, arms still crossed stubbornly over his chest.
“These guys are my friends.” He finally says, chewing at the inside of his mouth. “I know you can be a little…abrasive sometimes, but try and play nice while you’re on the team, okay? Just be normal.”
Donghyuck squints, glowing green eyes dimming slowly until they’re warm brown. “Is this normal enough for you?” he asks coolly.
“That’s not what I meant.” Mark counters. “No one cares what you look like. Jaemin’s green half the time anyways, and Jeno’s got metal parts for bones. It’s fine if you glow a little, but I need you to be part of the team. You’re not working by yourself anymore. We work together, okay?”
For a minute, Donghyuck just stares at him, eyes smoldering along with his hair. Then, he says tightly, “Fine.” He spins towards the door again, flying out of it.
Mark sighs, wondering how he’d let Johnny convince him this would be a good idea. After a second, he follows.
-
Mark finds Jeno and Jaemin in the common room in front of the TV, video game controllers in hand.
“I’m home,” he greets them, dropping the bag with his suit in it on the couch.
“How was Gotham?” Jeno asks, eyes still glued to the screen.
“And who is that?” Jaemin demands, turning to face Donghyuck, who’s floating steadily higher and higher up to the ceiling.
Before he can get too high up, Mark grabs his ankle and pulls him down hard. Donghyuck pouts, letting Mark hold him like the world’s angriest balloon. He says haughtily, “I am Koriand’r, second prin-“
“This is Donghyuck. He flies and glows. He’s part of the team now.” Mark deadpans.
“I could blast you to pieces where you stand, Mark Lee,” Donghyuck hisses.
“I’d like to see you try.”
Jaemin blinks, glancing between the two of them. “Cool,” he says at last, “Do they have Mario 64 on your planet?”
-
Jisung and Chenle get home from school sometime after Mark quits and throws down his controller. Despite not even understanding what video games really even are, Donghyuck’s reflexes are scary good, and he and Jeno have managed to beat Mark and Jaemin for the sixth time in a row.
“There’s a glowing guy eating all our food,” Chenle observes, dropping his backpack by the door. Jisung rushes into the room and nearly runs into Mark, only avoids it because his instincts are as fast as his speed. “Should we be concerned?”
While Mark is convincing Donghyuck not to eat a whole jar of pickles, Jaemin fills them in, and Renjun too, when he drifts quietly into the room.
“So what do you really do?” Chenle asks, practically bouncing up and down in excitement. “Besides fly and glow?”
Donghyuck screws up his face in thought. “I am stronger than humans,” he says slowly, “And I can project energy from my hands and eyes.”
“Energy,” Mark says, “As in zap.” He mimics setting flames erupting, wiggling his fingers.
“You are just angry that you do not have any abilities besides dressing up in tights.” Donghyuck snipes.
Mark flushes hotly while his teammates laugh at him, and then says firmly, “Anyways. Welcome to the Titans, where we’re all supportive of each other’s costume choices and abilities.”
“So, let me get this straight,” Donghyuck says slowly, glancing at all of them, “Just to make sure I’ve actually absorbed all the information thrown at me. Renjun can manipulate shadows and dimensions, Jeno’s made half of metal, Jaemin can shapeshift into any animal, Chenle can do magic, and Jisung’s really fast. And Mark can’t do anything besides make wearing a cape and tights somehow work for him.”
Jaemin bursts into giggles again. “You’re exactly right.”
Donghyuck says, “Who’s running this shitshow, then? Do we have a great and formidable leader?”
Mark crosses his arms, annoyed and unimpressed. Donghyuck follows everyone’s eyes to him, the snark melting off his face. Mark smirks. “That would be me.”
Donghyuck drops out of the air in surprise.