Chapter Text
Luthor was.. a fine dad.
Dare he say, better than Big Blue in certain areas.
Well, definitely except for the grandparents’ angle, —but besides the whole take-over-the-world villain thing, he was a fine dad.
He got Kon gifts on holidays and thoughtfully replaced his superhero gear once in a while. And sure, maybe it was a very new development, probably because of publicity and also ‘cause the bastard had enough money to throw around carelessly, but Mercy had always assured him that Luthor thought of him.
..And as irking and uneasy it made him feel that the megalomaniac somewhat cared about him, it was also really sweet.
Having the option of being billionaire heir Conner Luthor instead of another one of Smallville's farm boys was... well, it definitely was better than fine.
Kon liked having Luthor money. He liked blowing it on stupidly overpriced leather jackets, band merch, video games, and enough punk rocker metal shit to set off nearly every metal detector he'd ever walk through in Metropolis. He liked that people recognized him as Conner Luthor instead of Superboy. He liked being the face of some LexCorp advertising campaign every now and then.
It was easier when everyone wanted something from him, whether it be modeling or saving the day.
Easy made sense. Usefulness was equivalent to being needed, and..
… Being needed meant being wanted.
...
Well, Whatever.
Self deprecating thoughts aside, if Lex wanted to waste his money spoiling the clone he'd made, essentially paying the billionaire equivalent of child support, child taxes, who was Kon to argue?
Still... every once in a while the whole thing sat funny in his stomach.
He wasn't enough of an asshole to ignore what happened outside the tinted windows of LexCorp limos. One day he'd be dropping an embarrassing amount of money on kick ass boots he'd probably wear twice, and the next he'd fly over neighborhoods where kids were patching holes in their shoes with duct tape because buying new ones wasn't an option.
That kind of thing stuck with him. Made him think of when he just got out of the tube and the superhero equivalent of homeless and struggling. Getting most if not all of his shelter, clothes and other stuff from freebies given by really nice people from Hawaii and all over the place..
So... yeah.
Maybe getting dragged to another stuffy gala full of rich people pretending he was one of them between glasses of yucky overpriced wine was karma.
Very deserved, good ole’ karma.
Still, Kon hated this part of being a ‘socialite’.
He hated having to talk to snotty, plastic people. Hated the way the bright lights and the endless stream of chatter and sound overwhelmed his super senses.
He hated the goddamn stuffy ahhh suit with way too many goshdarn pieces. I mean seriously! Kon thought a Three piece suit was fancy, this one he had on was a what? A five piece?!
And, of course, there was the bald-headed bastard across the room.
Luthor stood there smiling and shaking hands like some kind of well-dressed dancing monkey, completely at ease among Gotham's finest, while Kon was stuck playing the ‘Secret Forbidden love-child Heir of Lex Corp’ for the night.
Yeah, he was a fine dad, but Kon was really, really starting to resent the guy for always dragging him into these types of events.
The Half-Kryptonian sighed quietly as he sipped on his glass of red wine. It did nothing to his biology and tasted like absolute shit, but he felt that something bitter like it would counteract the bitterness he felt inside. Two negatives made a positive, right..? Ugh. Stupid, Dumb Gala.
This certain event was a rarity apparently, an event with a lot of young people, nepo babies and celebrity influencers and less old rich people. Kids that were unfortunately around his age.
Now, Listen, Kon was an extrovert. He loved to entertain and would absolutely talk your ear off about the dumbest, nerdist crap, but right now, he was just a bit too overwhelmed and over stimulated and over Lex’s bullshit.
Still, he did what he was supposed to do, what he was brought out here for in the first place about a couple dozen times now, To mingle and promote LexCorp. So he flirted with the ladies as usual, brought on the charm and wide Kansas smiles.
A girl catches his eye, he winks, she giggles and when she runs off flustered and tells her friends, Kon turns away out of sight, shoulders drooping. Same old, Same old.
His cheeks hurt. He was exhausted. Did this mingling thing even work for the business? Does it matter? He looked towards his busy father who was talking with what looked like a stock buyer and started planning.. something. He tapped a calming rhythm with his TTK under the table in a plotting action and shifted his weight from one leg to another.
Brilliantly, his newly devised escape plan commenced when the diversion of the high and grand Timothy Drake's highlight, ‘thank you for coming, please give the poor your money’ speeches came on in the middle of the gala. Kon took that chance to sneak out onto a balcony and listen into the sound of the sea or something. Something other than the chatter inside. Maybe pray that there would be some sort of emergency where he’d be needed as superboy so he could have an excuse to sneak out.
Unfortunately, this was Gotham he was in, so even if there were, Batman would kick his ass and throw him out of the Gotham City Gate and turn the key himself.
So, resigned he was to simply lean a little too far off against the ornate guard railing of the gala venue’s balcony and try not to think much..
The first thing he did when out of sight was rip off the damn tie and loosen a few buttons on his stuffy shirt and let out a deep, relieved sigh.
The door behind him creaked open and a girl that he'd noticed was eyeing him up earlier came to join him outside. She had a chic white and black tight fitting gown, long pinstraight black hair and a sleek matching clutch that looked like it barely had anything inside it. She was pretty. Really, really pretty, and batting her eyes innocently at Kon.
Kon barely reacted, simply tilting his head as she stepped forward. “..Can I help you, miss..?”
“May. May Matterfield, but you can just call me May, Mr..?” She smiled politely and flirtily slid closer.
Putting some space between them, Kon slid the half empty glass of red wine as a somewhat buffer as he responded curtly, still somewhat friendly. “..Conner.” He said with a crooked smile.
Kon had already seen and been with a lot of women over his years being The Superboy. Models, Celebrities, Journalists, he'd probably built up a tolerance to all the pretty girls in the world by now. Somehow, the charm he'd once basically been addicted to had worn off. Maybe it happened after the incident with Ivy.. or Knockout. Or …Tan— Nevermind.
The girl had taken the glass basically from under his nose and finished it off, a sultry grin on her face. She leaned uncomfortably close, her face against the shell of his ear.
“..Conner.. Luthor, was it?” She whispered playfully, making her motives clear the second she whispered that name. Kon held back a grimace. This was normal, wasn't it? People looking for easy ways to get rich, or in this case, richer? He shouldn't hold it against her. ..No matter how much he felt like his skin was crawling off his bones.
Kon gently shoved her away but she took it as an invitation to help him wrap his hands around her waist, kissing a light press against the space just below his jaw. Kon flinched. It felt like he was getting the life stolen from him as his stomach dropped, as if a vampire had bit him.
“Woah, there—! uhm, I, Uh.” Quickly, Kon shoved her off perhaps a little more aggressively than he meant to and gave her an apologetic grimace.
“Sorry, miss, I gotta go.”
He didn't wait for an answer as he rushed out the balcony, not even registering the accidental use of his superspeed as a shiver ran down his spine.
He'd like to reiterate that he really, really hated fancy galas.
…
Kon blinked at the thought.
Since when?
He glanced back toward the balcony, but shook his head and started to walk the long way back to the gala room.
A few years ago, he would've soaked up that type of attention. A rich, pretty girl who was exactly his type practically throwing herself at him? That was his thing! Kon would've been all over her! That was a part of the Superboy brand! Hell, he'd probably have been disappointed if she hadn't.
But now?
He could barely even remember her name.
…
Maybe he needed to get his eyes checked.
Rao, what the hell was wrong with him?
It wasn't that she'd done anything wrong either. She'd been pretty. She'd been interested and approached him. That should've been enough.
He just.. didn't feel like himself anymore.
Whatever.
He just...
He sighs audibly and puts those thoughts into a box and chucks the key into the figurative ocean.
As Kon approached the soft amber light of the gala room, he hysterically thought that either Gotham had less oxygen than Metropolis or he was coming down with the world's weirdest cold..
— STING…
"Arghck..!" He let out a pained and strangled noise, as if he wanted to tell but couldn't as it would add to the noise surrounding him.
Nearly collapsing, he stabilized himself by gripping the corridor wall and creating a protective box of TTK around himself.
"... quarterly profits.."
"...she's wearing last season's Versace.."
"...—mothy’s speech was just simply marvelous!..."
"...could just tell that Mr. Winter's is wearing a toupee.."
Thousands of voices and noises made their way into Kon's ears, his chest growing heavier and heavier..
He heard all of it.
Not just the conversations nearby. Every goddamn thing.
The clinking of champagne glasses from the other side of the ballroom. The scrape of a chair against marble. The squeak of someone's shoe. A waiter whispering an order three rooms over. The rush of the kitchen. A nervous laugh under their breath in response to an unfunny joke. Someone tapping their fingernails against a wineglass.
Every voice came through at once, sharp and horribly clear, overlapping until there wasn't really a difference between one sound and the next.
His Superhearing had never exactly been quiet, but tonight it felt like somebody had cranked the entire world up to maximum volume and forgotten where the damn off switch was.
Rao, had it always been this bad..?
“...did you hear what.. —said...?”
“...Have you seen —my husband...?”
“...—Mr Wayne, Secu—”
“...They’ve hired— the same..”
Fuck.
Holy fucking Fuck.
It was all just so goddamn loud.
Kon squeeze his eyes shut and curled up into himself, trying to cover his ears.
Alright, okay, breath. Breathing technique training sessions with the Titans. Remember what Clark taught you, find an anchor point. Focus…
Badump.
Kon's eyes shoot wide open and he looked around at that particular sound.
Buried beneath the hundreds of voices and the ringing crystal and the pounding music, he could focus in on..
Badump.
That one.
Badump. Badump.
One he knew far too well by now.
Kon found the strength to lift himself up and blindly walk towards the sound, like a moth to a flame.
Almost immediately after he neared a gala entrance archway he was pulled away into a corner near the drink table by a certain important guest speaker.
“Hey.” Tim breathed. Kon felt the ringing in his ears go mute and his tensed shoulders go lax.
Kon couldn't help the quirk of his lips. He should have known that his Robin would've found him eventually. He wouldn't even be surprised if the guy probably had some sort of GPS or vital tracker on him somehow.
“..Hey.” Conner said in reply.
The vigilante snorted softly as he gently shoved Kon into a state of somewhat normalcy again, both literally and figuratively.
Ever since Kon-El had started sometimes going by ‘Conner Luthor’ and would be forced into galas, his best friend would be there beside him to offer company that didn't cause him to wanna rip his hair out.
“So, you managed to sneak away, huh? Classic.” Tim teased.
“Wasn't exactly that hard.” Kon countered easily.
Tim gave him a blank, disbelievingly stare “Uh-huh.”
“I just walked out.” Kon shrugged, smirking at Tim.
Tim frowned.
Kon’s gaze leads down towards what he was wearing. A simple yet elegant black suit, one that had been obviously fitted. A loosened blue tie that matched his icy blue eyes that had faint dark circles underneath them that almost gave him one of those smokey mysterious makeup effects. He smelled good, like his usual cologne with the slight hint of alcohol lingering on his breath. He also carried a wine glass.
“..Well, of course it'd be easy for you! Luthor was busy and you didn't have to give out the speech. I’d have done too if it wouldn't be obvious I'd be gone.. The best places are usually upstairs or the balcony or up on..”
Tim absentmindedly fixed Kon’s collar as he rambled, brushing against where the girl had kissed against his neck just moments prior.
“—Bruce gets up my ass about it when he finds me sneaking out even though basically all the rest of the others do when they're forced into one of these things! Apparently it's because I'm most experienced with dealing with socialites.” Tim complained.
Kon grunted softly in acknowledgement despite not attentively listening much but managing to playfully shove Tim back and wrap an arm around him.
“You know,” Tim continued with a soft smile, used to Kon's touchiness. "If you're trying to disappear without getting noticed, the west staircase is better. Nobody uses it unless they're going to the private suites. Or the balcony on the third floor. There's a blind spot in the security cameras—”
“Tim.”
“Yeah?”
“I'm not planning a prison escape out of the goddamn Bat-house.”
“You say that now.” Tim raises a trading eyebrow and pursed his lips as if he knew something Kon didn't. He probably did.
Kon laughed under his breath and shook his head. “Alright then, Sherlock, How many hours left until Pops and I can skidaddle on outta this place?”
Tim flicks his wrist with a flourish and checks his watch. Kon squints through the surface to see it's a fancy camouflaged batwatch. “Aroun’ an hour and thirty minutes, my good sir.” he says with a surprisingly passable British accent.
Kon audibly groaned and Tim laughed.
“You're kidding. An hour..?” Kon looked up in a frustrated daze.
“Afraid not, Chap.” Tim replied deadpan, still with the annoying accent.
“I'm gonna die.” Kon glared at Tim. The Robin just shrugged.
“You'll survive.”
“Really?”
“Probably.”
“Not helping, Timothy.”
Tim laughed and wandered toward the drinks table.
“Come on. I'll get you something.”
Kon followed, dropping onto the edge of the buffet table while Tim poured them each a drink.
Raising his eyebrow, Kon crossed his arms and sat on the edge of the buffet table, watching Tim prepare the drinks, eying the bottle, then his friend suspiciously. “..Red wine? You hate that stuff.”
Tim snorts quietly and hands over the drink, taking a small sip of the stuff. “You do too. Didn't stop you from drinking this crap earlier. I saw that Y'know?” He argued.
“Yeah, but..” Kon shook his head, unable to think of an excuse rather than admit that sappy stuff he thought about earlier and the emo shit about bitterness. He frowned instead. “..Is this like, the only beverage they serve here or something?”
With a half hearted shrug and another sip, Tim looks towards the other drink tables. “Basically. It's a no underaged kids gala so I guess the Matterfields felt free to go ham with the alcohol.”
Kon blinked dumbly. “The.. Matterfields?”
Tim nodded. “The ones who supported and campaigned for W.E. to have this charity event. One of Gotham's elites and had once collabed with W.E. on an exclusive wine collection.”
Conspiratorially, Tim leaned in close to whisper into Kon's ear and Kon couldn't help the shivers from running up his neck.. “Apparently, The Matterfield’s only daughter is looking for a husband and is on the hunt at this very Gala. That's why they paid so much for the guest list and catering.”
Kon's eyebrows shoot towards his forehead and his eyes widen. “What?!”
Tim blinked in surprise and frowned as he stared skeptically at Kon. “What?” He was doing that cute face when he was deducting something. It was his Detective-ing expression.
Kon breathed out through his nose and sighed. “..Nevermind.” He said, though he guessed what had happened earlier had made sense.. Rao, that was a headache.. He decided not to think about it and focus on what was in front of him.. “You're changing the topic,”
Kon noted as he motioned towards the other wine glass Tim had been sipping on for half the conversation, already empty and replaced with the ones he got for him and Kon. “You're drinking more heavily than usual.”
“.. You noticed that?” Tim said unsurely.
Kon frowns, glad to have followed his instinct, Why in Krypton would he not notice? “..Yeah? Of course I did. I'm no Batman, but even I'd notice that.”
Tim doesn't answer. He avoids eye contact.
Kon takes a step closer and taps underneath Tim's chin to get him to look into his eyes. “What's wrong?”
The detective had stiffened at that and hesitantly set down the wine glass. “.. It's fine, alright? Just.. please drop this, Kon. I'm fine.”
Kon raised a concerned eyebrow and crossed his arms. He knew Tim. He could tell when something was wrong.
“Liar.” He frowned, muttering the word under his breath. Tim straightened in response..
Kon stared meaningfully at his best friend.
Tim could very well hold his fair share liquor having built up a mean tolerance to the stuff along with probably the most deadliest scorpion venom and poison there were due to training, but it was still concerning.
After a few minutes of silence, Kon sighs breathlessly. “Alright, Fine.”
Kon reached out and held Tim's hand absentmindedly, squeezing it tightly, controlling his strength enough to make sure he'd feel safe and secure.
“I trust you,” Kon said, quieter this time. “So I'll drop it, okay?”
Kon had reached for his hand without thinking, Kon's brain finally caught up.
He didn't even realize he'd done it until Tim looked down.
Huh.
Well, Too late now.
“But don't get all weird about it,” Kon added quickly. “I'm serious, Tim. If something's eating at you, you can tell me. You know that, right?”
He gave Tim's hand another careful squeeze.
Tim slowly looks down towards his hands trapped within Kon's.
“Oh.” Tim gasps slightly
Kon realizes quietly but doesn't make a move to let go.
He instead squeezes Tim's hand again to prompt a response..
Tim laces their fingers together tentatively and sighs, expression going soft.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “I know..”
Tim gave him a small, tired smile.
“Thanks, Kon.”
Kon smiled back.
“No Prob, Rob.”
“Conner!” A commanding voice suddenly calls out as the two of them jump away from their close contact.
Kon's shoulders immediately stiffened.
Oh, crap.
He turned to find Luthor approaching, the polished shine of his bald head catching the chandelier light as he crossed the room.
“I have been looking for you for over fifteen minutes.” Luthor kept his voice low enough not to attract attention, but the annoyance underneath the tone was unmistakable.
Kon smiled sheepishly. “.. I'm.. sorry?”
Luthor gave him a pointed look.
“You were supposed to be socializing with the other guests.”
“I was circulating!” Kon tried. That, at least was true for the first few minutes of the start of the gala.
“You were hiding, Conner.” Luthor exhaled through his nose. “You need to show up and act proud. Luthors are not cowards. Stop acting like one.”
“Right. Sorry.” Kon said apologetically as he rubbed his arm. He wasn't really, but no one but Tim knew him well enough to notice that right now.
“...Come along.” Luthor tutted, shaking his head and was about to motion for Kon to leave with him before spotting Tim in the corner of his eye.
Instantly, a switch had turned in his mind and he was all smiles again. His posture straightened, his smile widened, and suddenly he was simply Lex Luthor, a father who'd been hunting down his wayward son. It creeped Kon out.
“Timothy.” Lex greeted, moving to interlock his arm with Conner. Kon complied awkwardly. “It's a pleasure to finally speak with you.”
“Mr. Luthor,” Tim greeted pleasantly.
Luthor extended a hand. “Your speech earlier this evening was quite impressive. A remarkably effective way of reminding Gotham's wealthier citizens that philanthropy is still fashionable.”
Tim smiled and shook his hand. “Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it.”
Kon stared, keeping his jaw shut but feeling it want to drop from surprise. Interactions between a Drake and a Luthor never grow less surprising, At least in Kon's eyes.
“Oh, I assure you, I did.” Luthor's smile wavered and his gaze flickered to Kon as if he were insinuating something.
“You've certainly inherited the Wayne family's talent for making an impression.”
Tim's smile twitched. Kon furrowed his eyebrows at his reaction. What the hell was Lex talking about??
“That's kind of you to say. They've taught me a lot, it's only natural I start emulating family.” Tim replied. Kon, dumbfounded and sure there was some sort of hidden meaning in those short exchanges, didn't know how Tim could put up with all that. It was really freaky how rich people had their own secret lingo.
Luthor frowned at Kon but bows his head in a quick goodbye to Tim. “..Alright, then. Thank you for keeping my son entertained, Mr. Drake but we really must be leaving now.”
Tim nodded at Lex and glanced towards Kon, an actual smile on his face. “Yes, I wouldn't want to keep you and waste any more of your time. It was nice to see you again, Conner. I hope to see you more at the next gala.”
Kon let out a soft exhale and returned the grin. Lex, seemingly already satisfied, had walked away, expecting Kon to follow him. Kon gave a mock-salute and a wink at Tim before catching up with Lex.
“Yeah. See ya, Tim.”