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Colliding emotions

Summary:

Love is only some chemicals the human body releases: serotonin, dopamine and norepinephrine, adrenaline, and oxytocin to be precise. If those didn’t exist, humans wouldn’t feel love.
It was a concept that was so utterly human, and yet he couldn’t help but wonder if his kryptonian side was the reason he had a hard time grasping it.

Notes:

I’m sorry I haven’t updated other stories but I couldn’t get this out of my system any other way but writing it.

I miss my boy Kon so much. 😭😭😭💜

Work Text:

Affection: A feeling of liking and caring for someone or something; tender attachment: Fondness. Communicated through gestures, words or touches, often associated with emotions and love. 

 

Love

 

But love, after all, it’s only some chemicals the human body releases: serotonin, dopamine and norepinephrine, adrenaline, and oxytocin to be precise. If those didn’t exist, humans wouldn’t feel love. It was a concept that was so utterly human, and yet he couldn’t help but wonder if his kryptonian side was the reason he had a hard time grasping it. Although Conner wasn’t convinced his progenitor, Lex Luthor, was capable of loving anyone but himself. And he was, biologically speaking at least, fully human. 

 

Superman, or Clark Kent, his other father, seemed to have no problem recognizing and managing his emotions and moods. He had the ability to stay positive even in the face of a difficult situation and calmly find a solution. Almost nine months old and Conner still had trouble identifying his own emotions. Emotional awareness is not a crucial skill when you’re meant to be an asset with the sole purpose of protecting human life. All life. And that was a large enough burden without adding the mess of human emotions.



First things first, the world. Everything else came after.



The first thing he was taught to master upon his ‘birth’ was reigning in his impulses. Impulses primarily related to things one desires or wants. Impulses can be strong but futile, just like emotions. What is any emotion but a series of electrical impulses, hammering away at your synapses? Mercy had told him if it was in the mind, then it was therefore something that can be controlled, trained and mastered. ‘Your desires or needs ought to be set aside, thirteen. Suppressing all of them is required for your survival.’



He was too young and naive to understand it at first. As a newborn, he did not question them, limiting himself to listen and do as he was told. However, there was a part of him, not sure which, but it felt as if something vital was taken away from him. Perhaps that small part of his humanity and sense of self, that part he was constantly told to ignore. Without it, Conner feared to be nothing but a mere weapon

 

Lex Luthor certainly would be proud as he had succeeded in following his teachings, squashing emotions the moment they appeared.



It was as easy as breathing. Until he met her

 

Conner found her extremely, aesthetically pleasing. Midnight short-hair just past her shoulders, striking violet eyes that spark with the light of a thousand galaxies. Even more alluring by a long fringe of lashes and dark, thick brows. She introduced herself as ‘Raven’ and shook his hand with a breath-taking elegantly full teeth smile. 

 

It was for a split second, but he felt his blood rush south, heartbeat quickened with adrenaline pumping in his veins. Calm down and breathe. It’s nothing to worry about. He was a healthy growing boy and his body simply reacted as he was approached by an attractive female. His control had been shaky, but it had held.

 

You must learn to suppress them all, thirteen. Conner heard the voice of Mercy in his head again. 

 

He excused himself and turned around as he decided to chat with his other teammates. A distraction Maybe the short, scrawny kid that looked like he belonged to some sort of posh school. Tim. 

 

Forty five minutes later, Tim was telling him of a way to make his bike faster with Wayne technology. Too bad his eyes and attention were busy on his female team-mate. He told himself it was best to stay away. Nevertheless, allows his eyes to slide towards Raven briefly. Just for a moment, in an effort to capture the fleeting sensation that the sight of her causes in him. 



When they made eye contact, he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was if she knew exactly what he was thinking or feeling. A flicker of amusement in her amethyst gaze, and the corners of her lips curving into a tiny, ghost of a smile. It couldn’t be, right?



Gratitude and warmth were the first two emotions he learnt from the Kent’s. But somehow, this warmth spreading in his chest was not quite the same he felt around his new family. It will go away. 



Several weeks later. It does not go away. 

 

It started one early morning when Conner walked into the communal kitchen, rubbing his face to chase the remnants of sleep and found her having some of the beast boy’s homemade espresso cookies. He swallowed, unsure of how to react. Raven just smiled softly and asked if he’d like to join her for tea and cookies.

 

 He stayed. They were teammates now, after all. 



After two weeks, they had fallen into a routine of sorts; if Raven woke first (as she usually did) she would have a pot of coffee going (for him and Tim) and a plate of butterfinger cookies he particularly enjoyed. But when he did (and once in a while he did) Conner made sure to brew enough Earl Grey tea for two, and place a plate of fresh almond-croissants from ‘Bo & Mie’. A small, easily overlooked, bakery which she claimed made the best croissants she’d ever had. (Mental note: Raven is a croissant enthusiast.)

 

They come to a deeper understanding of one another over cups of tea, and the roots of something he did not dare name grow.



She started calling him Kon and he likes (more than he probably should) the sound of his name coming out of her mouth. Words laced with softness that was like the first sun rays of dawn filtering through curtains, caressing skin; when everything is still quiet and serene. Much like her. 



The strange feeling wasn’t going away, rather it was blooming, making itself known under his ribs. It was a pleasant, untethered feeling that made him feel free from his burdens. The breathy voice of Mercy emphasizing how crucial it was to stay in control is slowly becoming a ghostly echo Conner can hardly remember. Almost completely gone. 



He spends sleepless nights tossing and turning, unable to think of anything else but the tiny dimple on her right cheek that is only visible when she smiles broadly. Or when she can’t contain laughter. Not hysterical or high-pitched, but spontaneous, filled with sincere delight. The nape of her neck that remains tantalizingly bare when she brushes her perfectly silky hair to the side. He finds that Raven’s lips are so very pleasingly shaped. He has caught himself staring at the fullness of her bottom lip, plumper in the centre, the slight curves of the top one. They are exactly the color of a rose petal, and there’s something about them that he finds very compelling. He wonders how she would react if he dared to - Then, he stops himself because he can guess where those thoughts are beginning to wander. It was a fine line, the one between friendship and more. As delicate as glass, at times blurry the closer you get to crossing it. Conner had no idea what he would find once crossed said line.  

 

None of his training or Luthor’s teachings could have ever prepared him for the waves of this tender emotion washing over both his body and soul whenever he was facing those glinting amethysts eyes up close.

 

 

It was a mid August evening when he knew without doubt. There was no way for him to deny to himself any longer that he was developing tender feelings towards Raven. That those emotions were real no matter how hard he tried to fool himself. 



“I wonder how old you are.” She asked unexpectedly, in a way that seemed like genuine curiosity. 

 

His brows furrow momentarily in confusion.

 

Raven simply shrugged. “I mean because your birthday is coming soon.” 



Oh. His birthday party was a couple of weeks away. 

 

He didn’t answer immediately, considering his words. “Intellectually an adult, emotionally and physically a teenager and..” He paused for a beat. “technically speaking eleven months, twelve days, seven hours and thirteen minutes.” He grins confidently, pride swelling in his chest. 

 

Raven chuckled softly. 

 

Then, it hit him. How things had changed in less than six months. He felt different, more himself than ever. “Having a birthday party like an ordinary guy..” He exhaled with a small smile. “Somehow it makes me feel more human.” 

 

Raven looked at him thoughtfully with those penetrating eyes of hers. “You’re more human than most people,” Her voice is low but full of certainty. Her words leave him feeling a sense of clarity and comfort he has not been able to find elsewhere. “ in the best way.” She smiled again, it was the sort of sincere smile that reached her eyes. His favorite. 

 

His blue eyes lingered on hers, searching, yearning, for more of these intense feelings. For a second he is so lost in the moment itself, in her, that he forgets he is a half-Kryptonian and she is a half-demon. But that was one thing he likes about Raven. She allows him to feel, not just rationalise. 

 

Involuntarily, without his brain registering the gesture. His hand rose to her temple, fingertips barely grazing lightly the locks of hair framing her face, but that simple touch was enough to make his breath hitch. A pretty shade of pink dusted across her cheeks and the sight of it made his heart start drumming furiously against his ribcage. He feared even Clark could hear it perfectly all the way from Metropolis. 

 

He stepped back, unsure if perhaps he made her uncomfortable by the sudden physical contact. But she reached for his hand, interlacing her fingers with his own. He stared, mesmerized at their connected hands while Raven watched his face. The touch of their hands was like two stars orbiting one another, readying to embrace the inevitable collision. 



Wild, untamed cosmic eyes beamed happily at him. “Don’t you think it’s a nice day for a picnic?” 

 

A smirk spreads across his face. ”Yes, it is.” 

 

It is odd, and unexplainable, and yet so utterly, completely human. There is no other word that could describe these colliding emotions but what humans call love