Archive of Our Own

Tim knocked on the door three times before Kon opened it. He'd come to Metropolis with Bruce for a business meeting, and what better way to spend his free time than with his boyfriend?

Kon's apartment was in a modest building, nothing like the sprawling Wayne Manor or Tim's own penthouse. But it felt warm. Lived in. Like someone actually called it home.

Tim was dressed in black slacks and a white formal shirt, topped with his classic red tie. He'd been in meetings all day, but he'd changed before coming here. He wanted to look good. For Kon.

Kon, on the other hand, was wearing slightly baggy jeans with a basic white shirt and a well-worn leather jacket. He looked effortlessly handsome, and Tim hated him a little for it.

Kon let out a low whistle, his eyes sweeping over Tim appreciatively. "Damn. You clean up nice."

Tim rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. He couldn't help it. "Are you going to invite me in or what?"

He took a step forward, but Kon stopped him with a hand on his chest. "Nah-uh. That's towards the end of what I have planned for today."

A massive grin bloomed across Kon's face. It was the kind of grin that made Tim's heart do stupid things.

Tim frowned. "We're going out?" He didn't mind, really. He just thought they'd be spending time at Kon's place, since Kon had asked to see him the moment he heard Tim was in town.

"Yes." Kon grabbed his hand, pulling him back. "Now let's get moving."

He stepped out of his apartment, locking the door behind him. They headed for the stairs—Kon's building didn't have an elevator—and Tim followed, his hand still in Kon's.

They reached the parking lot, and Tim's eyes landed on Kon's car. It was old. Like, really old. A beat-up sedan that looked like it had been passed down from generation after generation.

"We can take my car—" Tim started.

"My car's not that bad, you bougie rich kid." Kon rolled his eyes, opening the passenger door with a flourish. "Get in."

Tim opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. He slid into the passenger seat, which smelled faintly of fast food and something that was distinctly Kon.

The car sputtered to life, and Kon grinned. "See? Fine."

"Define 'fine.'"

"It gets us from point A to point B."

"Barely."

"You're such a snob."

"I'm a realist."

Kon laughed, and Tim felt the tension in his shoulders ease. This was nice. Just the two of them, driving through Metropolis, the city lights blurring past.

Tim watched the unknown scenery blur by for about fifteen minutes until the car came to a stop. When he stepped out, he felt his jaw drop to the floor.

"I know you've been looking into this place..." Kon trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"Ohmygod."

Tim couldn't believe it. Kon had brought him to the biggest library in Metropolis. It housed countless books you couldn't find anywhere else in the state—some not even in the country. Entry cost a fortune. Tim had been trying to get access for months.

He stared at Kon, dumbfounded.

"How did you—"

"Get entry?" Kon's smile was soft.

Tim nodded.

"Perks of being a Kent." Kon shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Lois knows the director. Pulled some strings."

Tim grabbed Kon's face and kissed him so hard their teeth clacked together. He heard Kon's surprised laugh, felt his hands come up to steady Tim's waist.

When Tim pulled back, Kon was grinning. "I'll take that as a good sign."

Tim grabbed his hand and practically ran toward the entrance. Kon laughed the entire sprint there, his fingers intertwined with Tim's.

The next hour was a blur.

Kon spent it following Tim around the library, taking hold of the many books Tim handed him. By the end of it, Kon was probably holding twenty while Tim held thirteen himself.

They took a seat at one of the many tables near the window, the afternoon sun streaming in.

"You have no idea how much I've been dying to get my hands on this book series." Tim whisper-yelled, holding up four books with a cover that read To Look in His Mind. "It's been banned across a lot of states, so it's really hard to find."

Kon raised an eyebrow, peering at the cover. "What's it about?"

"A murderer who leaves psychological clues for the detective. It's so well-written that some people thought it was a real confession." Tim's eyes were bright, passionate. "The author never revealed their identity, so there's all these theories about who they really are."

Kon was a little unsure whether he should really let Tim have it, given how concerningly excited he sounded as he said that. But he was also captivated. He loved watching Tim like this—passionate, unguarded, completely in his element.

Tim continued to ramble about the different books he'd picked out—a rare first edition of a classic, a poetry collection he'd been searching for, a historical account of Gotham's founding that wasn't available anywhere else.

Then he looked up and made eye contact with Kon.

Kon was staring at him. So intently.

"What...?" Tim almost wanted to squirm under his gaze. Almost.

"Nothing." Kon's voice was soft. "I just love it when you talk a lot."

Tim felt his face flush. "I'm not—I don't—"

"Keep going." Kon pointed at the book in Tim's hand. "What did she do in the movies instead of the book?"

Tim continued to explain, but he felt a lot more nervous being conscious of the attention he was getting. He stuttered a bit, his face warm.

Kon just watched him, a soft smile on his face. Like Tim was the most fascinating thing in the world.

After Tim's mass explanation, they headed to check out the books. The librarian was an older woman with kind eyes and a knowing smile.

Kon pulled his card out before Tim could even reach for his wallet.

"Stop." Tim pushed Kon's card away. "I couldn't ask you to do that."

He tried to hand the woman his card, but Kon was faster.

"Good thing you don't have to." Kon's voice was firm but gentle.

"Kon, seriously—"

"I want to. Let me."

The woman at the counter smiled at the scene, taking Kon's card instead of Tim's. "You guys are quite the pair."

Both of them turned red in the face, mumbling their thanks as they gathered the books.

***

"This is a nice café," Tim said, smiling at the calming atmosphere. He shook his drink in his hand—a concoction of different types of sugar jammed into a glass of milk with a hint of coffee. It was disgustingly sweet. He loved it.

The café was surrounded by beautiful plants everywhere, all very well maintained. Tim always appreciated a good nature vibe. It reminded him of the garden at Wayne Manor, but smaller. Cozier.

"Yeah." Kon took a sip of his own drink—something black and bitter that Tim couldn't imagine drinking. "We could sit here and read for a while."

Tim blinked. "What? But I'm the only one who got books."

Kon shrugged, pulling out his laptop. "I've got my laptop. I have to finish an article for work anyway."

"You sure?"

"Yes." Kon nudged him. "Now find a seat."

Tim felt bad, like he was dragging Kon around. But he saw no sign of annoyance on Kon's face—just warmth and patience and that soft smile that made Tim's heart flutter.

He did as he was told, settling on a cozy armchair near the window. He pulled out the first book of the To Look in His Mind series and started reading.

They sat there in comfortable silence for close to four hours, the sun starting to set. Tim was so engrossed in the book that he barely noticed the time passing. Kon occasionally asked what was happening in the story, and Tim would explain with barely contained enthusiasm.

Their drinks sat empty next to them, forgotten.

Finally, Kon closed his laptop with a soft click.

"Shall we get going?" He started standing up, stretching his arms above his head.

"Yeah." Tim closed his book reluctantly. "We can."

Kon reached out his hand, and Tim took it. Their fingers intertwined as they walked out of the café, the cool evening air washing over them.

***

They got back to Kon's place around 8 pm.

"Now you can come in." Kon stepped to the side, sweeping his arm in invitation.

Tim felt a little nervous, if he was being honest. He knew Kon had no intention of doing anything like that until Tim was ready, but they were going to be all alone in his apartment. Just the two of them.

He stepped inside, taking in his surroundings.

The whole place was a neat kind of messy. A TV sat in front of the couch, with some different consoles underneath it on the stand. Books were stacked on the coffee table. A jacket was draped over the back of a chair.

It smelled like Kon. Warm. Familiar.

"Make yourself at home," Kon said, setting down all of Tim's books next to the couch. "I'll be back in a sec."

Tim settled onto the couch, his fingers tracing the spines of the books. He heard Kon disappear into his room—or what Tim assumed was his room—and took the opportunity to look around.

There were photos on the walls. Kon with Jon, both of them laughing. Kon with Clark and Lois, smiling at something off-camera. A photo of a younger Kon on a farm, covered in mud, grinning at the camera like he'd just won a prize.

Tim smiled. This was Kon. This was where he came from.

Kon walked back into the room with a stack of clothes in his hands. "You can change into these. The bathroom's the first door to the left in the hallway."

Tim took the stack from his hands and went to the bathroom. He was given gray sweats and a black shirt that was a little baggy on him. They smelled like Kon's laundry detergent—something clean and subtle.

He changed quickly, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. The shirt was too big, slipping off one shoulder. He looked soft. Unguarded.

He stepped out to see Kon on the couch, holding something in his hands. A small box.

Tim walked up skeptically, trying to see what he was holding. The couch creaked as he sat down next to him.

"What's that?" Tim asked.

"A gift."

Kon placed it in Tim's hands.

Tim looked at it for a moment, trying to guess what it could be. The box was small, velvet-covered. The kind you'd find jewelry in.

His heart pounded as he popped it open.

Inside was a necklace. A thin gold chain with a little bird as the pendant.

"It's a robin," Kon said softly. "I know you're not really a Wayne—not by blood—but you're part of that family. And robins are... they're survivors. They adapt. They thrive." He paused, his voice thick. "It reminded me of you."

Tim stared at the pendant. It had a little blue stone as the eye. Larimar. His jewel.

"It's beautiful," Tim whispered, his throat tight.

Kon took it from his hands and unhooked the chain. "May I?"

Tim nodded, unable to speak.

Kon moved behind him, his fingers brushing against the back of Tim's neck as he fastened the clasp. The chain felt cool against his skin, sending a shiver down his spine.

When Kon backed away, he still lingered in Tim's space, admiring the necklace on his neck. His fingers traced the pendant gently.

"You look so beautiful." Kon's eyes met Tim's, warm and adoring.

Tim's heart swelled with something dangerous. Something that felt a lot like love.

"God, I love you."

His hands slid to the back of Kon's neck, and he kissed him gently. Kon sighed into the kiss, his hands sliding onto Tim's waist.

Tim crawled onto him, pushing him back into the couch without breaking the kiss. It'd been a month since they started dating, and his love grew each time they talked over the phone, each time Kon treated him so gently, each time he was patient with him.

Tim backed away a few inches, his forehead resting against Kon's. Their breaths mingled.

"Best first date ever," Tim whispered.

Kon's grin was wide. "Glad to hear you enjoyed it."

"Enjoyed it?" Tim laughed. "I fucking loved it."

He kissed Kon again, softer this time. Slower. Full of promise.

"I should tell Bruce I'll be staying the night." Tim kissed him between each word. "I'll text him."

"Don't let him misunderstand." Kon's voice was serious, but his hands were still on Tim's waist.

Tim giggled—actually giggled—and rested his head against Kon's chest. "Who cares what he thinks?"

"Uhm, I do." Kon's chest shook from the laughter he was holding in. "That man terrifies me."

"As he should." Tim pressed a kiss to Kon's collarbone. "But he also trusts me. He'll understand."

Kon's arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer. "Okay. But if he threatens me, I'm hiding behind you."

Tim snorted. "You're such a coward."

"I'm a survivor."

"Same thing."

"Different thing."

Tim smiled, his cheek pressed against Kon's chest. He could hear his heartbeat—steady, strong, real.

"I love you," Tim sighed.

Kon pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "I love you too."

They lay there on the couch, tangled together, the night settling around them like a warm blanket. Tim's phone buzzed—Bruce, probably—but he ignored it.

"Hey, Tim?" Kon's voice was soft.

"Yeah?"

"I'm really glad you're here."

Tim lifted his head, meeting Kon's eyes. "Me too."

He kissed him again, soft and sweet.

This felt so right. Like this was where he belonged.