Work Text:
The mountain was quiet in the late afternoon, the kind of peaceful silence that only happened when half the team was out on patrol and the other half had vanished into various corners of Mount Justice. Perfect afternoon to get some good work done. No interruptions, no distractions, just himself and some stubborn code.
Tim had claimed the oversized armchair in the den for that purpose hours ago.
It was a bit too big for one person. Which meant it was perfect to strech out and relax. Sometimes work necessitated sitting at a desk surrounded by monitors but sometimes he was fine like this. he leaned back in the soft cloudlike cushions while his laptop balanced on his knees, a mug of coffee long since gone cold on the table beside him. He was halfway through untangling some particularly stubborn encrypted LexCorp financial records when the bioscanner chimed.
Kon's boots scraped softly against the polished floor. It wasn't the confident stride of someone who'd just completed a successful mission and wanted to brag or even the standard loose swagger he usually carried with him. He dragged himself in like a wet cat with a exhausted shuffle that echoed through the den.
Tim looked up from his laptop. The smile that had started to form at hearing Kon's biosignature faded almost immediately.
Kon looked... wrung out to put it mildly.
His leather jacket hung crookedly from one shoulder, one sleeve torn nearly to the elbow. His suit sported a few fresh tears and a fine coating of dust. His hair, usually artfully messy through sheer luck (seriously what right did have to get such perfect wavy hair), had crossed the line into genuine disaster. There wasn't a visible injury on him, which, given Kryptonian durability, wasn't surprising... but there was a heaviness to the way he carried himself. Like each step forward was taking all of his effort.
"...Bad day?" Tim asked.
Kon's eyes drifted toward him.
Or rather...
Past him.
Tim followed the thousand-yard stare and briefly glanced behind him until he registered it landed squarely on the armchair. The one that he was currently occupying.
"...Oh."
Kon's favorite chair. The one he almost always claimed dibs on whenever they were all in the den together. Kon always said he was the Big Guy, he got the Big Chair. And unless someone was fast enough to claim it before him he was unmovable once he sat down. Bart periodically tried but even then Tim was pretty convinced he just did it so Kon would lift him up and expertly toss him across the room onto the couch.
Tim glanced back at Kon. He looked too tired to do any tossing today
"You want the..."
Kon kept walking.
No acknowledgment. No greeting. No complaint.
Just the determined, single-minded march of someone whose was mentally checked out and had reduced the world into one simple objective.
Chair.
Tim had just enough time to close his laptop and set it on the table next to his stale coffee before Kon reached him.
"Kon?"
Still nothing.
The half-Kryptonian stood over him for a second, blinking down at the occupied seat like he was trying to unravel the mysteries of the universe or solve a particularly challenging Trigonometry equation.
Then, apparently deciding there was no problem at all, he climbed into the chair anyway.
"Kon-!"
One knee settled onto the cushion beside Tim.
"...Kon."
The other followed.
Tim's eyes widened.
"Hang on, I don't think you've fully thought-"
Approximately two hundred pounds of very tired Kryptonian lowered themselves directly into Tim's personal space.
"Oof-"
The chair creaked under the weight. Tim creaked as well.
Kon folded himself with surprising care despite his size, one arm bracing against the back of the chair and Tim's shoulders so he didn't simply flatten his Robin beneath him. A moment later after some impressive adjusting he settled completely, broad shoulders fitting against the side curve of the chair's back. Tim was now effectively trapped. He sighed and carded his fingers through Kon's wild mess of curls as the clone somehow managed to curl even closer around him.
It shouldn't have been that comfortable with this deadweight on him, but Kon always radiated warmth at a level normal humans didn't, like he'd been sitting in afternoon sunlight all day. It was the kind of warmth that seeped through fabric in slow waves until you realized you were unconsciously relaxing into it. A Kryptonian quirk.
Kon let out a long breath. A sigh that sounded like he'd been holding in for a long while. He mumbled something incomprehensible and his forehead came to rest against Tim's shoulder.
Tim waited, fingers still petting his hair. Nothing else happened.
"...You done?"
"...No," a muffled voice answered from somewhere near his collarbone.
"You're crushing me," Tim teased lightly. It wasn't a complaint necessarily, he never minded some post mission cuddles... But he was pretty sure his legs were already falling asleep
"...Need chair."
"You have the chair, Clone-boy. It'd be more comfortable if you let me up first and I can-"
"-Need all of chair," came the muffled response as he practically buried himself in the crook of Tim's neck.
Tim sighed, though not in annoyance, an indulgent resignation. Seems like he counted as part of 'all of chair' today.
"...Apparently."
Kon's arms, already loosely around Tim's middle and his shoulders, tightened just enough to keep him from sliding as he shifted into a more comfortable position. There wasn't any real pressure behind it. Even exhausted, some instinctive part of him was careful. Kon may forget his own strength all the time, but never with people. He was always aware of the fragility of those around him. Even as bone tired as he was.
Another tiny sound escaped the Kryptonian. Not a sigh, more like a hum but even so not quite. Low in his chest, steady and resonant, it rolled beneath the silence with a vibration Tim could feel more than hear, especially with how close he was . It wasn't a human sound, not really. There wasn't a good word for it.
The closest comparison Tim had was a cat purring. The deep rumble settled into a slow, content rhythm as Kon relaxed another inch.
Tim smiled fondly, picking up on his petting again. He scraped his nails gently against his scalp and was rewarded with the rumbling increasing slightly in volume.
"...That means you're comfortable, doesn't it?"
"...Maybe," the reply was low, barely audible. Kon was always a touch embarrassed by the parts of him that were distinctly not-human. Tim adored every part of him though. Even those.
"I'll take that as a yes," he chuckled.
They spent a few minutes like this, wrapped in each other until Kon's body slowly begin to relax, tension in his shoulders beginning to fade away.
"What happened?"
For several seconds Tim thought Kon had simply decided not to answer, or pretend he didn't hear.
"Everything," he finally replied, the rumbling in his chest fading a little.
"...Helpful."
There was another long pause before Kon sighed a little and turned his head so he wasn't muffled by Tim's shoudler
"It was Intergang. They had some kind of kryptonite like... ray gun or something. I don't know the specifics," Kon shuddered, "Hurt like a mother though."
"No wonder you looked so drained."
"Then they got away," he made an annoyed sound, a click, deep in his throat. He didn't seem to notice he had and Tim didn't comment.
"Clark talked to me. You know, said it wasn't my fault, that he knew I did my best and..." he threw his hand up briefly before letting drop back down again to wrap around Tim, "Just made me feel worse. I screwed up."
With some effort Tim managed to unpin his other arm so he could pull Kon into a proper hug. He squeezed him as tightly as a human could. Tight enough that Kon's ribs would probably protest if he wasn't invulnerable. Kon practically melted into his embrace.
"We all have fuckups Kon," he pressed his forehead to his, eyes closed, "I've had my fair share of them. Everyone who lives our sort of life does. You can't beat yourself up over it."
"I know... I know... still sucks," Kon sighed before he lifted one arm just enough to display the torn sleeve of his jacket, "Plush I ripped my favorite jacket."
Tim examined the damage. It wasn't beyond repair.
"I think I could ask Alfred to fix that."
"That's okay, if I can't manage, Ma can help me," his chin dropped back onto Tim's shoulder, "I just wanted to be a little dramatic."
A laugh escaped Tim before he could stop it, "Now you you sound a little more like yourself."
"The dramatic idiot?" Kon shifted just enough to look at him with one tired eye.
"The dramatic idiot," Tim confirmed with a nod.
"...Rude."
"But accurate."
Still, the corner of Kon's mouth twitched upward before he buried his face against Tim's shoulder again. Looks like Tim wouldn't be getting up anytime soon but... this was fine too. He returned to his previously ministrations of petting his hair, and lightly scratching against his scalp and neck. He knew Kon liked that though he didn't like admitting it out loud
Just as he suspected the low rumble slowly made it's return. Kon's entire body seemed to melt bonelessly into the chair, muscles finally giving themselves permission to fully unclench after what was clearly a miserable day.
"...Better?"
"...Mmhmm..."
The encrypted files on Tim's laptop could wait. Whatever had happened today, this definitely mattered more. The den settled into a comfortable quiet, broken only by the faint hum of the mountain's ventilation system and the soft, rhythmic vibration coming from Kon's chest.
Five minutes stretched into ten. Then twenty. The rumbling faded gradually but didn't vanish completely, replaced by slow, even breathing.
Tim tilted his head slightly, "...Kon?"
No answer, just a quiet snore as Kon subconsciously snuggled closer.
"...Figures," he laughed softly
Carefully, very carefully so as not to jostle Kon, Tim leaned far enough to snag the throw blanket draped over the back of the couch. It took some awkward maneuvering, but eventually he managed to spread it over himself and Kon. Officially nap-trapped he decided he could probably use the rest too
Not that he really needed blanket If anything, Tim was the one benefiting from the living space heater currently asleep on top of him. Still, it was just nice to go the distance.
The bioscanner chimed again.
A red and white blur zipped into the room.
"Hey! Has anybody seen Ko-"
Bart stopped dead, his grin spreading instantly.
"Oh."
Tim sighed and didn't even bother looking up. He knew his fate was sealed but he had to make at least a cursory effort.
"...Don't."
Bart was already fishing his phone out of wherever on his costume his pockets were hidden.
"C'mon, this is adorable," he held the phone out threateningly
"Bart."
"This is important historical documentation."
The camera clicked and the speedster checked out the picture, still grinning like he'd won the lottery. The photo was going to be in the YJ groupchat in record time. Though from the rapid blur of Bart's thumbs it was probably already there. Tim's cellphone was in his backpocket and completely inaccessible. He had no means to defend himself.
He looked at the sleeping Kryptonian, then at the detective trapped beneath approximately one very large very affectionate clone.
"...You're not squished for real though?"
Tim shifted experimentally. His left leg had completely ceased communicating with the rest of his nervous system.
"I haven't had circulation below my knee for... honestly, I'm afraid to check."
"That's rough, buddy," Bart nodded with exaggerated solemnity, "Anyways, I let everyone know the chair is occupied."
He gave a thumbs up with one hand and held up his phone with the other. It was too far away to read the chat but Tim could see the rapid scroll of chat messages popping off.
Before Tim could formulate a response, Bart was gone in a gust of displaced air.
Silence settled over the room again.
Tim looked down at the sleeping half-Kryptonian, who unconsciously nuzzled a fraction closer, the contented rumble briefly returning before fading back into sleepy breathing.
Tim let out one long, defeated sigh. But honestly he couldn't be that mad. He leaned down to place a small feather-light kiss on Kon's forehead.
"The things I do for you..." he murmured, unable to stop the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "They're never going to let us live this down now."
Another sleepy, almost inaudible chirrup answered him.