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Kon had insisted. No one would look too closely- if they kept it lowkey- a restaurant outing every now and then couldn’t hurt. Tim didn’t like it, but after some boyfriend negotiation, they went out as Tim Wayne and Conner Kent.
Cue the absolute horror and regret when Kon receives three comms at once:
Batman first. Never a good thing to be contacted by your boyfriend's father.
From Batman: Tim is MIA.
From Nightwing: Tim was kidnapped in Wayne Tower. Unlikely to be related to RR. SOS.
From Unknown Number: C0me get your SuperB0yT0y. LuthorCorp
-
“Where is he?!”
Kon burst through the penthouse suite of Lex Tower like he owned it. The glass shattered around him, feeding from the rage inside him, his TTK pushing waves of it tenfold.
Smug, piece of shit Lex Luthor sat idly at his desk. Looking fucking unperturbed.
“Nice of you to stop by,” Lex’s tone was amicable.
It flew Kon into greater rage. He was at his desk with lightning speed, grabbing his collar with two tight fists, yanking him forward.
“I got your message Luthor. Where is he?”
“Mr. Luthor!” Someone slammed on the office door, a metallic enhanced version of the standard. “Security! Open up!”
“No need,” Luthor said, making direct eye contact with Conner. “I have it handled.”
Kon threw him off to the north-side wall, the only part of the office not window paneled. He couldn’t have him fall to his death. Not when he doesn’t have eyes on Tim.
Lex crashed into a painting of his own likeness, finally having the nerve to look pissed.
“Enough, Superboy. Unless you want my rage to come down on that Wayne boy.”
Superboy tensed, his whole body taking in the threat. His TTK retreated reluctantly.
That Wayne boy. The Bats' intuition was correct. This had nothing to do with Red Robin. Just Tim Wayne.
Kon tried to sound calm, keeping his distance from the evil man ahead of him, standing where the sun from the broken panels hit him like crystal. “Let him go. He’s got nothing to do with this.”
“Au contraire,” Lex has stood up at this point, dusting off the debris from the painting and wall off his shoulder. Fixing his douchey black tie. “You’d think Superman would have taught you, Kon-El, be careful what civilians you surround yourself in. Or as I like to call them: collateral.”
Kon seethed with rage at that. “I will make your life a living hell, Luthor. You’ll miss Superman.”
“Really? You think that’ll help you now? How will you find him, Kon-El?”
Kon tried his senses again. Nothing. It would make sense if a building like LuthorCorp had anti super architecture. Lex had contingencies. But Christ, not hearing Tim’s heartbeat, his voice… Kon felt lost. An empty vat of terror where that sound used to be.
Kon clenched his fists. “What do you want from me?”
“I don’t know what you see in a billionaire’s son, especially a Wayne. Whiny, weak men come from that family.”
If he only knew. “Just answer my goddamn question!”
“A blood sample.”
“What?” Kon blinked.
“You metas are so difficult to get ahold of. You agree to willingly provide me a blood sample, I’ll return the young Wayne to you.”
Kon considered this, his stomach in knots, left choiceless. “What will you use it for?”
“Would you believe me if I told you?”
“…I don’t know.”
“Research. Posterity. Unlocking the key to killing Kryptonians and their pathetic copies.”
Kon’s eyes flared, before clenching them shut, unable to focus without the comforting beating of Tim’s heart to give him security. He thinks of Kal-El, trusting him wholeheartedly and truly.
If he waits, if he stalls, Lex could press a button on his communicator and call for hurting Tim… or worse. And it would all be Kon’s fault.
“You don’t…” Kon started, but Lex continued. He was approaching him now, looking down on him in more ways than one.
“I’m messing with you, son. Lighten up,” Lex sounded so cordial, it startled Kon, but he suddenly took his shoulders and leaned to whisper in his ear, “But if it was between Superman, and a helpless human you love so dearly, what would he want you to do?”
Kon shuddered, slightly, before furrowing his brows in anger and shoving Lex off of him.
“You can have the blood. I get Tim.” Kon nodded once, meeting Lex’s intense stare.
“Excellent!” Lex smiled. He pressed an earpiece, which survived the blast, apparently. “Bring in the alien equipment!”
Kon grumbled something about that being a stupid name, before he cleared his throat, “And bring Tim too.”
“Ah, I don’t trust you not to grab your bachelor and fly off. No tricks, Superboy. I have no vendetta against little rich boys. You help me and I’ll keep my word.”
Your word. Good for nothing.
“At least lower the… defenses.” Kon frowned, trying not to let his voice shake. “I can’t hear him.” I can’t sense he’s alive.
Lex hummed. He strutted over to his desk, taking a seat on the shiny black recliner, and dusted glass shards off of all his stuff.
Kon watched him intently, as he reached under and pressed a few buttons. He spoke a word into a mic, scanned his prints, all of the evil corporate security nonsense. If this was Tim, he’d be making a note of all Lex’s security measures. Instead of doing that, Kon is just thinking of what Tim would do. Who he can’t hear or see or feel.
Until, suddenly, Kon perked up.
Lex looked slightly disgusted. “There you are, friend. Alive and well.”
Somewhere on a lower floor. Slightly elevated level. Tim’s resting heart-rate was around 56 bpm. But on missions, higher. Kon could pretend this was just a mission.
He’d have to, when some of LexCorp men and women swing through the door Lex unlocked. Kon watches each of them rush in. One is pushing a standard chair you’d see at the doctor’s office. The other a briefcase, the other a pistol, how business casual.
Kon huffed, and took a hasty seat on the chair. There were no armrests, which is good, because he’d be paranoid about restraints.
It all looked so normal. Like they really just wanted to test his blood. See if he’s low in Vitamin D.
Lex approached him, taking the briefcase from his employee and placing it down on the fold up table a different employee had set down.
Kon could see the contents: an empty baggie, a pack of sterile wipes, and a vile with a sharp needle. Kon forced his gaze away.
He didn’t want Lex to see him afraid. Plus, the terror he feels with needles was nothing compared to fearing for Tim’s life.
One guy took his right arm, wiping an area around the middle, where you could make out a vein.
“Wait,” he said when Lex had the sharp needle and flicked it, as though trying to scare him. “Clean the needle. With the wipes.”
“Smart,” Lex said. And so he did, cleaning off the metal from any possible Superboy killing contaminates. The vile itself was empty. His vision was good enough to see that.
As the needle approached him, Lex was raising an eyebrow expectedly, as though reading his mind.
Kon was shaken. How much does he know?
Superboy’s physiology shouldn’t be well known. Even to Superman’s biggest baddie. In this moment, Kon had to lower the shield that constantly fluttered around him. TTK that protects every part of him. If he wants a new piercing, if he’s in the deep sleep stage of the night, the shield diminishes. With practice, he can will it. With extra practice, in just a minuscule area. Like the small of his arm.
So he did, staring intently at the spot, trying to relax his TTK.
When the needle pressed his skin, it punctured. Lex hummed pleasantly.
“Easy, right?” Lex patted his shoulder on the same arm the blood was being taken. Stolen, really.
Kon made a face at him.
Lex shrugged, leaning in as the vile almost filled, and his voice was dripping with maliciousness when he whispered, “Westfield was a good friend of mine.”
If Kon could be any more disturbed today, that would’ve done it. He yelped when Lex ripped the needle from his skin.
The shield went back up instantly, like a blanket desperate to protect him. Lex was a piece of shit. The urge to cuss him out was strong.
“Bring me Tim,” Kon said instead, loosely using his left arm to cover the right, which was of course bleeding. The sting of it was foreign and strange.
Lex nodded, mumbling to his employee but Kon of course heard, “Bring the boy.”
Kon stood up from the med chair instantly, going to the farside of the room away from them all, focusing on his superior senses.
He hears footsteps of Tim’s leather business shoes, clacking a bit. His heartrate rising as he goes from resting to walking. And most pleasantly, he hears his voice, “Care to untie me now?”
When they returned, Tim was in the center of two LexCorp guards. He was restrained, like he said, with a metal cuff locking his wrists together in front of him. In a wrinkled gray suit and messy hair, Kon’s body sagged with relief, he looked like his normal self just out of a Wayne business function.
Yet, as he approached, Kon felt himself tense up again. Looking distrustfully towards Lex and his closed suitcase— and his downright cordial expression.
He made a quick hand gesture, indicating a ruder form of a salute. Kon’s eyes darted to the window he’d broke, a wide gape in the building with the expanse of the free open sky.
In an instant, he grabbed Tim from a few feet ahead and flew away as fast he could.
Tim didn’t even jump at the speed, at being grabbed, and Kon watched his eyes scrunch close as they flew far, far away.
Atop a building, somewhere on the lower east side of Gotham— about thirty miles from Lex’s tower in Metropolis— Kon let him down.
“Tim, God, I’m so sorry,” Kon patted his shoulders, desperately searching his face and body. “Did he hurt you?”
In an instant, his TTK unmade the restraints around Tim’s wrists, letting them fall to the floor.
Tim shook his head wordlessly. He looked at him with a heavy, pointed frown.
“This was my fault. I’m sorry,” Kon held his shoulders tightly. “You can say I told you so. You have to say you told me so.”
“Kon,” Tim said quietly, stopping him. “What did you give him?”
“What?”
“In exchange for me. This was a hostage negotiation, so what did Lex get from you?”
Tim looks pained. And Kon realized, with a tremor of disbelief, that’s why Tim was so upset right now.
Kidnapping, payback, all in the back of Red Robin’s mind.
“I— I gave him a blood sample. That’s it.” Kon managed.
Tim’s eyebrows furrowed, the way they always do in confusion. “But your skin…”
“I can lower my TTK shield. Momentarily.”
“Christ, Kon! And you did that! In front of Lex, no less!”
Tim was flippant, turning away from him. His hair and the jacket of his suit were violently flapping in the wind—- the sound giving Kon a headache.
“I had no choice,” Kon said. He didn’t feel regret about that.
Tim’s head swung to him. “I… I don’t know what to say to that.”
“I told you so.” Kon replied, his voice lowering with shame and exhaustion. He approached Tim, putting his arms around his waist. Tim sighed deeply, leaning into him.
“I suppose I did,” Tim said, not sounding very mad.
“You should. You’re the smartest, best person in the whole world,” Kon said, pressing his forehead to his.
“I love you,” Tim said back. “When I’m mad I still love you.”
They kissed then, deeply, Kon releasing all the worry and fear of the last hour onto him. Gratefulness engulfed them both in a cloud of bliss. Tim was here. Kon couldn’t help but hold him tightly, wrapping him in TTK. Tim yelped at the sensation onto Kon’s mouth.
Then he pulled back, looking flushed and beautiful. “We should tell my family I’m alive.”
“Right, yes,” Kon said, fumbling for his pager with one hand while keeping the other holding Tim. In his Wayne industries look, Tim would have no direct line to Batman and Nightwing. So Kon pressed a few buttons, voice texting “I got him he’s okay”.
“How succinct,” Tim said, and Kon would’ve went right back to kissing, if Tim’s eyes weren’t now locked on his arm.
“You're bleeding, Kon. Luthor couldn’t spring for a bandaid?” Tim complained. He kneeled beside him, ripping into his very expensive suit. Kon winced at that. Always unnerved by how his boyfriend and his family have money to burn.
Kon watched Tim expertly turn a scrap of fabric into a tourniquet, staunching the bleeding. When he was done, Kon gently pulled him back up by his forearm, kissing him again.
“I thought I’m supposed to be the hero,” Kon said between breaths.
Tim wrapped his arms around Kon’s neck, “And I’m what? Your playboy?”
“My playboy,” They both laughed a little, not breaking off their makeout until—
“Tim.”
“Woah!” Kon said, truly jumpscared. Tim pushed him away— his now untied red tie flapping into Kon’s chest.
Batman and Nightwing stood a few feet away. Out of fucking nowhere. Kon has super hearing.
“Are you two insane?” Nightwing said in genuine aggravation. He pulled out his communicator, dramatically pointing “‘I got Tim and away’ You think that suffices when we’re worried sick?”
“You need a refresher on protocol.” Batman said. He sounded different to Kon… deeper? Maybe… embarrassed.
Right. No one wants to see their son getting at it. Kon doesn’t have parents— but that checks out.
Tim looks mortified. “Sorry, guys…”
Nightwing came up to him, his demeanor changing, putting a hand on Tim’s arm, “Tim, are you okay?”
“We traced you from LuthorCorp.” Batman said, approaching as well. His eyes went from Tim to Kon. “I suppose there’s a lot to discuss.”
Now besides mortified, Tim looked upset like he did moments before. Kon felt just as accosted. Like when Red Tornado used to lecture them after a YJ mission gone horribly wrong. Even if it was usually Bart’s fault.
Nightwing was giving them a sympathetic look, even through a domino mask.
Batman studied them a moment before clearing his throat and continued, “But… if there’s no immediate danger… it can wait.”
If Tim was surprised, he didn’t show it, giving his father a warm smile. Kon, meanwhile, tried for one— but only time could fade deep wounds. Like making a scene in front of Batman.
“Kon, you’re to join us at the manor,” Batman said, waving them to follow. He began to approach the end of the ledge, holding out his grappling gear.
That didn’t sound so bad. Alfred’s cooking and more time with Tim.
Nightwing looked at Batman, then looked back at them. “I’m guessing you have a ride, Tim. And you’ll beat us there.”
“Yeah. We will,” Tim sounded okay now. Nightwing always eased him.
When Nightwing went to follow the Bat, out of earshot, Kon whistled for a second and Tim face-planted.
To Kon’s shock, Tim whispered first, “We’ll get back to that later. Superboy and Billionaire Playboy.”
Kon grinned, taking Tim into his arms securely. “Yes, sir. Whatever you say.”