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The mission had gone to hell.
It wasn’t just the ambush, or the rain, or the fact that Danny’s communicator had shorted out five minutes after the explosion.
It was him, curled on the slick floor of the smoking, abandoned outpost, pale and trembling. Oozing blood and something worse — something green that glowed faintly against the shattered concrete. Kryptonite.
Danny knelt beside him, hands glowing faintly with ectoplasmic light as he tried to slow the bleed. He reached inside of him, debrided the gash piece by piece. The wound just below Kon’s ribs had finally been cleared of the last of the kryptonite shards, but not before it had done serious damage. Danny’s makeshift first-aid wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough.
“Kon?” he whispered, brushing damp black curls from Kon’s forehead. “Hey, come on, don’t check out on me.”
Kon’s eyes cracked open. Red-rimmed and too dim for someone who used to glow with power. “Still here,” he rasped.
Danny let out a shaky breath, the knot in his chest pulling tighter. “Good. That’s good. You better stay that way.”
Kon gave the ghost of a smirk. “Didn’t... know you cared that much.”
Danny froze, hand still hovering over his chest. He swallowed hard, forcing down hysterical laughter. “You’re an idiot if you think I didn’t.”
Their eyes locked, and for a second, the rain and rubble disappeared. All Danny could see was Kon — hurt, barely holding on, and still trying to joke through it like everything wasn’t falling apart.
The silence stretched between them, heavy with all the things Danny hadn’t said. With every breath, he felt the weight of them pressing on his ribs. There was a storm inside him that had nothing to do with the rain hammering the roof.
He bit his lip. “I should’ve said something sooner.”
Kon tried to focus on him through his pained haze. “Said what?”
Danny’s hand trembled as he rested it against Kon’s cheek. Cold skin. Danny wasn't supposed to be the warm one. “That I’m in love with you.”
The words hung between them like static electricity. Sparking against Kon's numb skin and shorting out his sluggish thoughts.
“I didn’t mean to,” he admitted, voice barely audible. “You’re loud and cocky and you hog the radio on recon and you always smell like that terrible cologne Bart gave you— but you’re also brave and stubborn and you laugh at my dumb jokes and take every hit for the team like your life’s disposable.”
He swallowed again, trying to breathe around the truth. “I can’t lose you, Kon. I can’t.”
For a moment, the only sound was the rain and Kon’s uneven breaths. Then—
“You love me?”
Danny gave a crooked smile, fingers still on his cheek. “Yeah. Stupidly. Um. Since— probably the first time you winked at me and called me ‘Casper.’”
Kon huffed a weak laugh. “You hate that nickname.”
Danny looked like he might cry. "Yeah, I know."
Kon’s hand — shaking, bloodied — lifted just enough to curl around Danny’s wrist. His grip was barely there, but it was grounding, tethering.
“Feels like a dream,” Kon murmured, eyes flickering shut again. “You saying that.”
Danny leaned down, pressing their foreheads together. “'Not dreaming. You’re not dying either, okay? You’re gonna stay with me. I finally said it out loud, so you don’t get to die right after.”
A faint smile curved Kon’s lips. “Bossy, Casper.”
“You better listen for once,” Danny whispered, voice cracking.
The rain kept falling, but Danny stayed right there, cradling Kon in his arms, whispering promises into the darkness — and daring hope to bloom in a place that had nearly broken them.
Mount Justice infirmary, three days later.
Kon had been cleared from the ICU, though he was still benched till his labs came back clear.
That didn’t stop Danny from hovering like a second shadow the moment he stepped foot into the hallway. He tried to play it cool — sitting sideways in a chair outside the medbay with a book he wasn’t reading, pretending he hadn’t been waiting for Kon to come out. But the second the door hissed open, Danny’s head snapped up like a jack-in-the-box.
Kon was still pale, still walking like his ribs ached — but he was alive. Standing. Breathing. Smirking, even.
“You look like you just saw a ghost,” Kon said dryly.
Danny snorted, rising to meet him. “Offensive. You look like someone who almost bled out on me.”
They fell into step without needing to talk about it. It was easy, like muscle memory — Danny adjusted his pace without thinking, and Kon let their arms brush every few steps.
For a while, they didn’t speak.
Danny let the silence stretch, but not out of comfort. It buzzed in his ears, loud with the things they weren’t saying. With the memory of his own voice cracking as he held Kon’s broken body in a pool of rain and poisoned blood.
He glanced at him. “You, uh… remember what I said back there?”
Kon didn’t answer right away. He looked straight ahead, lips twitching like he was biting back a smile.
“About me being loud and cocky and having terrible taste in cologne?” he said finally.
Danny laughed, weak with relief and nerves. “Yeah. That part.”
They stopped near one of the quiet overlooks hidden throughout the mountain. The rain had stopped, but the air still smelled like ozone and wet stone. It reminded Danny too much of that outpost.
Kon turned to face him, arms crossing over his chest — carefully. “I remember everything.”
Danny’s mouth went dry. “Right. Cool.”
He looked away, hands fidgeting in the hem of his hoodie. “Look, if that was too much, too soon — I didn’t mean to drop it on you like that. You were dying. It wasn’t a planned thing. It just—” He shrugged helplessly. “Slipped out.”
Kon stepped forward, slow but certain. “Yeah. It did.”
Danny didn’t look up. “So... we okay?”
“We’re okay,” Kon said, and then, softer: “I’m okay, because of you.”
Danny finally met his eyes — and stopped breathing.
There was something different in Kon’s gaze now. Not the teasing deflection he wore like armor. Not the half-smiles and sharp-edged sarcasm. This was bare. Warm.
“And I’m glad you said it,” Kon continued, voice low.
Danny blinked. “You are?”
Kon smiled — that soft, real one that barely curled at the corners but always reached his eyes. “I’ve had a thing for you since we sparred in the Watchtower gym and you threw me across the room with one hand.”
“That was an accident.”
“Still hot.”
Danny laughed, a little breathless. “You’re the worst.”
“I’m serious,” Kon said, stepping closer. “I didn’t think you felt the same.”
“I didn’t think you could feel the same,” Danny said. “You’re... you.”
Kon raised a brow. “And you’re you. Brave and self-sacrificing and weirdly obsessed with shit that goes bump in the night.”
Danny rolled his eyes, but he was smiling now. His heart thudded in his chest like it hadn’t quite caught up with the moment.
Kon tilted his head, watching him. “You gonna kiss me now, or do I have to wait for another near-death experience?”
Danny’s breath hitched.
Then he leaned in.
The kiss wasn’t explosive or frantic — it wasn’t about desperation anymore. It was warm and exploratory, Kon's full lips brushing against his. Kon’s hands found his waist, Danny’s fingers curled into his jacket collar, and for a long, perfect second, the only thing that mattered was this.
When they finally broke apart, Kon rested his forehead against Danny’s. “So,” he murmured, “how long before we tell the team?”
Danny grinned. “Let’s give it a few days. I’d like at least one briefing before Rob grills us to death.”
Kon chuckled. “Deal.”