Chapter Text
“Hey, are you alright?”
At the sound of the voice behind you, your head whips around – not the best decision considering how tired you are and the way it seems to make the world spin despite your body remaining rooted where you stand. It takes another minute before you remember you were asked a question, and the man in front of you is waiting patiently for your answer. You squint, assessing the situation before you decide to answer. “I’m alright.”
“You’ve been standing here for the last, like, 15 minutes, do you need any help?”
Before you even get the chance to answer there is a crack of thunder above you, drowning out any words you may speak. There is a simple word on the tip of your tongue: no. No, you do not need any help, thank you. But that would be a lie – you’re dead on your feet, with too many bags to drag behind you and into your apartment during a raging storm. The storm would be fine on a regular day – but you’re already bone tired and the thought of water seeping through your clothes is an unpleasant one at best. Finally finding your voice, you give him an answer. “Honestly, I’m not sure that I can get all these bags back to my apartment. Not without something breaking.”
He seems to think for a moment, and somewhere in the back of your mind something says he looks familiar. You find it on the tip of your tongue and then he flashes a smile and just like that the thought it gone. “I can help you carry them back,” he shrugs, standing a little straighter and that same smile plastered on his face, “if you’d like the help.”
You need the assistance, really, and with the sun starting to set your options are dwindling as is. But inviting a stranger back to your apartment is certainly not in the top 10 list of ‘best ideas’ and you know that much. Your apprehension must have shown because the stranger’s voice breaks you from your thoughts once more.
“I can give you my name, and you can send a picture to someone you know, to be on the safe side if that’s what you’re worried about.”
You hum for a moment, thinking it over. “Y/N.”
“Kon – well, Conner. But everyone calls me Kon.” He shifts closer as you pull out your phone, still waiting patiently. Once more you ignore the feeling of familiarity, instead turning your back to him and holding the camera up for a selfie – some morbid part of your mind chimes you may as well have an updated photo if you go missing. If it bothers him, he says nothing about it. Instead, he gives a charming smile, long enough for you to take the picture and send it off to one of your friends, before slipping the device back into your pocket.
Turning back to him, you already have a few of the bags on your arms. “I can grab a few more really quick.” Rather than reach for a bag, you find him taking off his jacket instead before stepping closer, draping it over your shoulders.
“Don’t worry, I can carry the rest of them,” he assures, picking them up before you have a moment to protest. It takes you longer than you care to admit for your brain to reboot, and when it does, you’re flustered. Enough so he notices because his charming smile is threatening to give way to an amused smirk. You can see it in his eyes.
“Don’t you need your jacket though? It’s raining.”
“I think you could use it more right now.”
He says it like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and the thought of staying somewhat dry is too compelling. Enough so that you set your bags down so you can properly slip the jacket on instead.
“Thank you,” you murmur, gathering your bags back up. You swear they’re lighter than they were just a moment ago – enough to notice – and you think he may have more bags on his arm than he did before you were distracted. You decided not to ask about it. Making your way out into the rain, with him following, you are determined to reach your apartment before you end up looking like a wet cat. Especially with the attractive guy walking beside you.
It is 5 minutes into the walk, you’re already wet, and so is Kon – not that you mind too much with the way his shirt is clinging to him – but you do feel a bit bad about it. Luckily, you can see your apartment building just ahead. “We’re almost there, it’s that one, with the crumpled sign next to it.”
“See, and nothing bad happened just because I’m not wearing a jacket.”
The absolute confidence in his voice makes you laugh and you turn to look at him. “Careful, we haven’t made it there yet.”
“I am 100% promising you that we’ll make it inside alright.”
“What, you wanna bet on it?”
“Let’s make it a bet.”
And as if the world had the same sense of humor as you, or was determine to prove Kon wrong, a car came screeching past you. Being on the sidewalk, neither of you paid too much attention to it, until it hit the large puddle of standing water as it came rushing up on you.
Faster to react than you, Kon turned his back to the wall of water that came crashing down, shielding you and the bags you had both been carrying to the best of his ability.
Freeing one of your hands and wiping the water out of your eyes you looked back up at Kon who now stood soaked to the bone. Grinning, and unable to help yourself, you quip up at him, “I think I won the bet.”
He stops and looks at you for a moment, seeming to process your words before a smile breaks out across his face and he laughs. “Yeah, alright, you win this one.”
“Come on, I can get you a towel when we get inside.” You pick your bags back up before ushering him forward. As if the rain had not been trying its hardest, the car had certainly soaked him enough. You had to stifle a laugh, careful not to compare him to a wet kitten the way he looked beside you now.
Ignoring the annoyed glare from the lobby receptionist, the pair of you headed straight for the elevator which remained empty thankfully. You manage to reach the front door of your apartment with ease, fishing your keys out of your pocket before halfway stumbling inside, your arms already tired from the bags you had been hauling before letting the majority of them hit the floor with a thunk, the delicate bags (which you had made sure to hold onto) being set on the table instead. Kon followed your lead, still dripping a small ocean’s worth of water onto your hardwood floor. Cringing at the thought of waiting longer, and feeling cold yourself you asked him to stay put for a moment before you vanished into the bathroom, reemerging with a towel. “You can get dried off if you want, and there are some extra towels. First door on the right.”
A look of relief shone through and he mumbled a quick thank you, carefully taking the towel before disappearing into the bathroom.
Discontent with leaving it at that, you scamper off to find your clean laundry, knowing you had to have some clothes that may fit him. You had enough comfy, oversized shirts and sweats. Now on a mission, you dug through what you had, ignoring the nagging that reminded you that you would have to clean it back up later. Finally, you got a hold of a pair of pants and a shirt, one you’re guessing will be able to fit him. Content with the choice you make your way back down the hall and knock on the door, Kon opening it just enough to peak out at you.
“I figured it’s not much good to get dry and then get back into soaked clothes. I think these should fit you just fine.”
“Thanks again – but are you sure?”
“Well, I also appreciate my floor not turning into a pool, so yes.”
With a hum of agreement, he took the clothes from you and shut the door again.
Satisfied, you threw your own towel over your shoulders and cleared one of the bags out so he could put his soaked clothes inside, fishing out an umbrella as well. No sense in giving him clean clothes only to get soaked again on his walk back home. When you hear the door open you look up and meet his eyes and find your breath catching in your throat.
He looked good – and maybe you had misjudged the size of the clothes, but you were not about to complain, you reasoned, when he stepped out.
Flustered, you handed the umbrella over to him.
“Oh, my thanks for saving you from the wall of water?”
You laugh despite yourself at his joke, seeing the amused grin on his face growing at your response. “Something like that, yeah.”
The next few minutes were spent gathering his things, assuring him once more you would be alright without the umbrella. Though he seemed more than happy to leave it with you, you wanted him to stay at least a little dry while he made his way back out. Finally ready, the pair of you shuffled to the door, with you lingering in the threshold as he turned back around – now standing in the apartment's hallway.
Maybe it was your eyes playing tricks on you, but you could almost swear he looked flustered for a moment before he was brandishing that same confident smile once more. “Maybe I could give you my number then – so I can return the umbrella later.”
Taking the dive and rocking on the balls of your feet you shot back, “maybe we could get a coffee together too?”
You decided then and there that the sun would cower in shame if it ever saw the way he lit up at your question. “I was hoping we could,” he chimed handing his phone over with a new contacts page open.
You put your name and number in before handing the device back.
“I should get going now though. I'm sure you have things to do and I have some errands to finish.”
“Feel free to message and we can talk a bit later.”
“Oh, I will. I’ll talk to you later.” He winked, pulling another laugh from you, before turning to make his way back outside into the storm.
Content with all that had happened, you bounded back inside, making sure to lock the door behind you before looking for your phone – you needed to let your friend know you were okay, or you would never hear the end of it.
Unlocking the device, you almost choked on air when you see the text notification:
1 unread message: ‘IS THAT SUPERBOY?!?!’