Chapter Text
To be frank, Tim and Kon were less than thrilled to be traveling to London. Not that they had anything against the city, no, but because they were there strictly on League business. With practically direct orders from Batman to not have any fun.
"Look on the bright side, Rob, we can still see some of the big attractions while patrolling the city," Kon, ever the optimist, smiled at Tim while bumping their shoulders together on the couch of his apartment. Tim just grunted. Very Bat-like, though he didn't want to admit it right now.
"What, you just want to mope around the whole time?" he continued.
Yes. But Kon didn't need to know that.
"No," he dragged his eyes up to his teammate's, hoping they conveyed what he was intending. "Just might be nice to actually stop and breathe for a sec, experience something new."
Kon's big, blue eyes turned even more compassionate, if that was even possible.
"Oh, Rob," he sighed. "I-"
"It's fine," Tim sits up abruptly, making his way to the front door. He doesn't look back, but he knows Kon is following him. As he puts his shoes on, he tosses the other boy a curt goodbye completely unbefitting of their relationship. Friendship, Tim's inner voice chides.
He knows he should feel embarrassed by his childlike behavior, but the closest he can come to acknowledging it is a quick text sent Kon's way as soon as he gets back to the Manor:
pick me up in the morning @ 6?
The reply is almost immediate, and nothing short of ridiculous. A winking emoticon, quickly followed up by a slew of London-themed emojis. Tim can't help himself from shaking his head, huffing out a laugh. His phone dings again:
heard you laugh.
night, robbie :P
And if Tim's cheeks are flushed when he types back a simple "goodnight," well, that's no one's business but his own.
Sure enough, Kon is at the front door of Wayne Manor a little before six o'clock the next morning, backpack in one hand, paper bag in the other.
"Brought some breakfast," he smiles, holding the bag out. The warm smell of egg and cheese biscuits fills Tim's nose. "Figured even Alfred wouldn't be up cooking at this hour."
Tim nods, a garbled "thanks" escaping his lips, still not fully awake and ready to carry a conversation. Kon, as with most things Tim-related, seems to understand this immediately.
After a (mostly) silent breakfast, the pair flew above the clouds to London, England. Of course, with Tim's luck, it was pouring. Kon happened to have an umbrella in that backpack of his, though, so that was a plus. They were in for a long day of staking out the entire city.
Even so, some aspects of the day trip were alright.
The way Kon absolutely insisted they get a photo outside a classic red phone booth they stumbled upon, even if it was embarrassing to see an over-eager Kon beg a stranger to take a picture of them.
Kon asking Tim to explain the history behind the various monuments and buildings they passed throughout the day, even if there were signs posted right in front of him telling the very same thing.
How Kon told exaggerated stories they had both heard too many times with complete conviction and unadulterated excitement.
Kon, Kon, Kon.
It was nearly seven in the evening, and they still had found no trace of the criminals they were supposed to be tracking. Either they were better than the League thought at covering their tracks, or they simply did not operate out of London. At all. Which didn't make much sense, but seemed like the only viable option to Tim, at this point.
Tim thinks Kon could tell he was getting in his head about the mission's lack of success, because he pursed his lips in that way that meant he was thinking really hard about what to say to Tim.
"Wanna get Indian?"
Okay, not what Tim had expected. His shock must've shown on his face, because Kon immediately began explaining himself.
"I mean, the food here is supposed to be second only to the food in India itself. Might as well. When in Rome, right?"
"When in Rome," Tim gave him a half smile, and that was enough for the pair to duck into the nearest hole-in-the-wall Indian restaurant.
Once they got situated in their booth (with a window facing the street, as per Kon's insistence), a breathtaking girl around their age walked up to the table. Tim wouldn't have noticed she worked there if it weren't for the blatantly obvious notepad and half-apron she was wearing. She had bronzed skin and flowing, long black hair neatly tucked out of her face with a headband. The gold jewelry she wore perfectly complemented her skin tone, and her dark eyes were framed by thick, long lashes. She was gorgeous.
And she couldn't take her eyes off Kon.
It was like Tim didn't even exist to her. Everything she said, from her typical waitstaff introduction to personal anecdotes and recommendations, was geared toward Kon, even if Tim was the one who asked a question. It was all said with a dazzling smile, too—slight dimples accentuating her nearly-perfect face. She turned out to be the granddaughter of the couple who owned the restaurant, Kon, with all his unintentional charm, found out. Which was... cool. Tim knew this girl was doing nothing wrong, and actually completely understood the desire to never look away from Conner Kent's actually perfect face. He just wished she would be... what? Less obvious? More focused on her job? It all sounded silly in his head.
Before he knew it, they were done eating their (admittedly delectable) meals and were stuck with the bill that Kon, ever the Midwestern gentleman, snatched up. No matter that Tim had more money than he knew what to do with.
However, as Kon looked to the bottom of the check to sign it, he noticed something. Something handwritten. He felt his cheeks flush, and Tim definitely noticed that.
"Oh my god, did she leave you her number?" Tim smirked at his friend. His best friend, who he most definitely did not have any romantic feelings for.
"Y- yeah," Kon's throat felt dry all of a sudden, somehow. On the way out, he tossed the receipt into a trashcan.
"What the hell, Kon?" Tim laughed.
"What?"
"What in the world made you turn that girl down? She was drop-dead gorgeous. And totally into you."
Kon had the gall to shrug noncommittally, eyes focused on the sidewalk in front of them.
"Seriously?" Tim scoffed out a laugh, blinking several times in disbelief. "Never in a million years would I have thought-"
"Well if you like her so much, you can go back in and ask her out yourself, Rob," Kon turned his head toward the street in what looked like annoyance. Was he mad at Tim?
"What?" Tim made a strange face. "No. I'm just saying it's a bit weird, you know? I've never known you to not flirt back with someone. Especially someone as attractive as that girl."
"Maybe I've turned over a new leaf, ever think about that?" Kon flashed his thousand-watt smile at Tim, and everything felt normal again.
"Yeah, right," Tim scoffed again, a small smile tugging at his own lips. "Superboy is nothing without his flirting. I don't think there's a reality where you're not constantly throwing cheesy pick-up lines around."
"Absolutely unfathomable," Kon winked at Tim. Winked.
"To the displeasure of many, I'm sure," Tim rolled his eyes.
"Hey, do you want a toll-free ride back to Gotham or not?" Kon fought a laugh.
"If you must."
"Please," and now it was his turn to roll his eyes good-naturedly. "You wouldn't pass up flying with me for the world."
"If that's what you need to tell yourself, Superboy."
"Oh, hush."