fic: Colors run prime (6/?)
Title: Colors run prime (6/?)
Author:ayzilia
Fandom: DCU
Paring: Tim/Kon
Rating: R, for language
Word Count: 1,838
Summary: In the wake of the Wayne-Kryptonian Treaty, Tim and Kon struggle to adjust their dreams, prejudices, and expectations to fit into the scope of their new life together. A/N: This follows My kind is not your kind. Read that first for clarity’s sake. For sanity’s sake? Also, title from the song “Whirring” by The Joy Formidable. Disclaimer: Not mine. All belongs to DC Comics.
Part 1
Previous Part
Kon was drowning. And he didn’t know what to do about it, couldn’t start to know what would allow his lungs to gasp in air again. How did anyone handle this weight in their chest? How did they deal with this bone-aching worry? This vice-like fear? It poked with alarming accuracy right at the dark core inside him. All the rage, self-doubt, and angst he’d been trying to ignore-everything he’d been resolutely keeping aside with jokes and boyish smiles-flooded him.
All from the full realization of Tim’s human fragility. Kon still felt his terror at hearing Tim cry out across the city, his horror of seeing that monster crushing the life from his husband (that word still sounded weird, or maybe not, maybe it didn’t have to) prickling under his skin, much like a low jolt of electricity.
And from the realization that he…
Well, that he cared for Tim much more than he thought. The reactions Tim pulled out of him… Kon shook his head against it. Anger at the criminal who would dare, worry that a light breeze might topple Tim over, a fierce protectiveness and possessiveness. Tim was his. Above all, his to keep safe.
He cared for Tim. At this point he might end up with a Tim shaped hole were anything to happen to him. Kon didn’t even know when it happened-when this Robin of all people, a prince of his enemy, wormed his way in the small selective ranks of those Kon gave two shakes about in anything more than an altruistic way.
What was it? His vulnerability? That overwhelming sadness Kon took as a challenge to lift? That seriousness Kon took as a challenge to break? That sharp intelligence? Maybe even just his looks, however shallow that made Kon feel? Obviously not his ability to hold a civil conversation…
Kon looked over at the focus of his thoughts, who was already moving to the edge of the roof, his long-ish black hair obscuring most of his face in profile, his mask covering those icy blue eyes.
Kon had to. He had to take just half a minute to admire how awesome the suit (however much he disapproved of the suit and all it represented) made Tim look. How it accentuated everything just right. The line of Tim’s silhouette was doing things to him… and ok, focus Kon. Focus.
Not of the line of Tim’s back.
Kon sighed.
“So I won’t carry you,” Kon relented. “Where’s the next lab then?”
“There’s things to finish up here first,” Tim said in his this-is-dire-and-important voice. So, his normal tone.
Kon huffed in frustration, “What’s to finish up? We won, right? Well, I won.”
Tim scowled, but otherwise didn’t rise the bait Kon just couldn’t help but throw out there.
Calmly, Tim explained, “A scientist or doctor or researcher or whoever that was, is probably replaceable. We need to put the lab out of commission.”
Kon frowned. He thought he saw where this was going, and all from the guy who’d once lectured him on destruction of property, public and private.
“So when you say ‘out of commission’…” Kon trailed off.
Tim nodded, “I mean I already set the charges.”
And with that Tim pulled out of his utility belt a trigger. He calmly flipped the switch the reveal the classic red button.
Kon took a moment to gape at him.
“Go grab the unconscious scientist and the security guard. Then we’ll blow this place and drop those two off at a police station.” Tim said in a very business-like voice, like he said things like this all the time. Like blowing up buildings intentionally was routine.
“What?” Kon crossed his arms in front of his chest in, hopefully, an intimidating and serious manner, “Shit. I heard you say that earlier and it went right by me. You’re crazy. I mean-Look, I don’t know how you guys do things in Gotham, but here we have due process, we have procedures. We don’t just blow shit up and leave-”
“I won’t get into an argument with you over modus operandi. Not tonight. I have evidence against those Kryptonians. The police will have grounds to hold them on,” Tim said calmly, “And as for the lab, if we don’t disrupt their infrastructure, they’ll find another scientist or doctor and some more security and be back to hurting people within a few days.”
Kon glared for what felt like ages. Tim didn’t glare back, but he met Kon’s glare steadily, unwaveringly. The tension charged the air between them, making Kon almost itch. He shifted. Started to float a few inches off the roof. Not that he needed the extra height to look daunting. He already towered over Tim, who for his part appeared entirely unfazed.
Kon sighed and relented for the second time (hopefully not the beginning of a habit). He just… Tim made a twisted sort of sense. And Kon was certain Tim’s convection was set and his patience much more practiced than Kon’s.
“Fine,” Kon huffed gruffly, and flew over the edge of the rooftop to fetch the two as Tim wanted. No he was absolutely was not whipped.
~*~
As soon as Kon disappeared over the ledge of the building, Tim allowed himself to curl into himself against the pain, to wrap one arm around his chest and breathe a little heavier, to bite his lip and fall to his knees. He didn’t cry out or whimper or moan despite the fierce impetus to do so. He couldn’t. Kon would hear and Tim didn’t need to look any weaker in the Kryptonian’s eye than he already did.
Tim took a minute. The foundation he’d been standing on, the adrenalin, was crumbing away under his feet, leaving him to feel. Everything. His-his chest. Like agony. Kon was right, he was one big bruise and more. Broken, or at least cracked, if Tim guessed right. And he usually did.
He was running short of time until Kon returned. He needed to pull himself back together. Tim focused, just like Bruce had taught him. Pain. Pain was just-just stimuli to the brain. It existed only to communicate and Tim had gotten the message. Now to just separate himself from the pain. Distance himself in his mind and breathe. A long exhale and he stood upright. He let his arm drop to his side and smoothed out his face just as Kon came flying back with one scumbag in each hand. Tim grinned, though it was forced past the wall of pain currently separating him from the world.
Tim gestured for Kon to follow, took two steps away from the warehouse set to blow and stopped. Closed his eyes, swayed, and swallowed his pride.
“Kon,” Tim forced out through his gritted teeth, “I think my ribs are broken. At least two.”
“What?”
Kon dropped the two guys on the roof and flew to Tim’s side. There in literally a second. He put his hand lightly, hesitantly, on Tim’s shoulder and Tim deigned not to shrug it off. Not because it felt good (felt steadying). He just didn’t have the energy to deal with anything but not giving in to that increasingly intense urge to moan against the white hot agony in his bones.
“I-he stepped on me, and the suit can only mediate so much, and…” Tim quickly realized he was rambling and got to the point. “I’m fairly certain my ribs are broken and the adrenaline is running out. Has run out. I need to watch for signs of shock.”
As if summoned by his words, Tim began to shiver.
“Ok,” Kon said, looking worried. “Ok, what do I do? I’ve never…”
He’d never dealt with something like this before. Tim could fill in the rest. His entire family was freaking invulnerable. Of course he’d never dealt with broken bones or shock. Fucker.
Tim scowled, “We stick to the plan.”
And with that Tim depressed the button on the trigger and the warehouse next to their rooftop went up in flames and smoke. Debris, flaming bits of wood and plaster, flew their way. Tim instinctively dropped to his knees and brought up his wings to shield himself. Kon, probably being a stupid knight in shining armor, crouched over him.
When the warehouse became more smoke than flame, one huge column mucking up Metropolis’ pristine skyline, Kon slowly pulled away.
“You’re insane,” He announced, dead serious.
Tim grinned a little. Freak. Insane. Sociopath. He’d heard it all before. He’d hear it again.
But at least this time there was no disgust coloring the words.
Kon sighed and held his hands out in front of his chest in a placating manner, “Are you going to let me carry you now or are really going to try your ‘bat-lines’ when you can barely stand?”
“I can stand.” And Tim did to prove his point, despite having to hug himself to keep the shivering in check. He nodded at the two knocked-out Kryptonians, “Besides you need to carry them.”
Kon scowled at him and took a step closer, “Tim-”
“Red Robin.”
“Like everyone doesn’t know who the Bats are nowadays! Tim, I’m carrying you home. I can hear the police on their way. We’ll leave the goons for them here.”
Tim measured his options for half a moment, eyes darting from the Kryptonians facedown on the concrete roof to the half-Kryptonian holding his hand out looking mature for once to the smoke plume blocking out a swath of the light of the city and down at his own feet.
“Fine,” he conceded and handed over the small usb drive (after double checking to verify the info had already been downloaded onto his gauntlet computer; he would need that info to further the investigation). Kon scooped it from his hand and tugged the doctor/scientist up by hi collar to his knees. He tucked the usb drive neatly into the front pocket of the white lab coat, next to a mundane black pen. He then grabbed up the security guard in his other hand and flew them both back in front of the warehouse where the authorities would find them easily.
Tim blinked slowly, pressing his lips together to stay composed, to stay upright, and Kon was back and grinning.
“What?” Tim raised an eyebrow.
Kon just kept grinning, “I used my heat vision to burn “arrest us” into the asphalt next to them.”
He obviously thought that was terribly witty. He looked like a puppy waiting for a pat on the head, tail wagging.
“Amusing,” Tim said dryly.
Kon dropped his grin with a habitual huff. Now he just looked annoyingly concerned.
“C’mon,” he said, reaching hesitantly for Tim again, “Let’s get you home.”
No. Not home. The Daily Planet. But Tim let Kon take him gently into his arms anyway, one arm under his knees and one supporting his back. Kon’s chest felt broad and warm and Tim hurt. He closed his eyes.
Author:ayzilia
Fandom: DCU
Paring: Tim/Kon
Rating: R, for language
Word Count: 1,838
Summary: In the wake of the Wayne-Kryptonian Treaty, Tim and Kon struggle to adjust their dreams, prejudices, and expectations to fit into the scope of their new life together. A/N: This follows My kind is not your kind. Read that first for clarity’s sake. For sanity’s sake? Also, title from the song “Whirring” by The Joy Formidable. Disclaimer: Not mine. All belongs to DC Comics.
Part 1
Previous Part
Kon was drowning. And he didn’t know what to do about it, couldn’t start to know what would allow his lungs to gasp in air again. How did anyone handle this weight in their chest? How did they deal with this bone-aching worry? This vice-like fear? It poked with alarming accuracy right at the dark core inside him. All the rage, self-doubt, and angst he’d been trying to ignore-everything he’d been resolutely keeping aside with jokes and boyish smiles-flooded him.
All from the full realization of Tim’s human fragility. Kon still felt his terror at hearing Tim cry out across the city, his horror of seeing that monster crushing the life from his husband (that word still sounded weird, or maybe not, maybe it didn’t have to) prickling under his skin, much like a low jolt of electricity.
And from the realization that he…
Well, that he cared for Tim much more than he thought. The reactions Tim pulled out of him… Kon shook his head against it. Anger at the criminal who would dare, worry that a light breeze might topple Tim over, a fierce protectiveness and possessiveness. Tim was his. Above all, his to keep safe.
He cared for Tim. At this point he might end up with a Tim shaped hole were anything to happen to him. Kon didn’t even know when it happened-when this Robin of all people, a prince of his enemy, wormed his way in the small selective ranks of those Kon gave two shakes about in anything more than an altruistic way.
What was it? His vulnerability? That overwhelming sadness Kon took as a challenge to lift? That seriousness Kon took as a challenge to break? That sharp intelligence? Maybe even just his looks, however shallow that made Kon feel? Obviously not his ability to hold a civil conversation…
Kon looked over at the focus of his thoughts, who was already moving to the edge of the roof, his long-ish black hair obscuring most of his face in profile, his mask covering those icy blue eyes.
Kon had to. He had to take just half a minute to admire how awesome the suit (however much he disapproved of the suit and all it represented) made Tim look. How it accentuated everything just right. The line of Tim’s silhouette was doing things to him… and ok, focus Kon. Focus.
Not of the line of Tim’s back.
Kon sighed.
“So I won’t carry you,” Kon relented. “Where’s the next lab then?”
“There’s things to finish up here first,” Tim said in his this-is-dire-and-important voice. So, his normal tone.
Kon huffed in frustration, “What’s to finish up? We won, right? Well, I won.”
Tim scowled, but otherwise didn’t rise the bait Kon just couldn’t help but throw out there.
Calmly, Tim explained, “A scientist or doctor or researcher or whoever that was, is probably replaceable. We need to put the lab out of commission.”
Kon frowned. He thought he saw where this was going, and all from the guy who’d once lectured him on destruction of property, public and private.
“So when you say ‘out of commission’…” Kon trailed off.
Tim nodded, “I mean I already set the charges.”
And with that Tim pulled out of his utility belt a trigger. He calmly flipped the switch the reveal the classic red button.
Kon took a moment to gape at him.
“Go grab the unconscious scientist and the security guard. Then we’ll blow this place and drop those two off at a police station.” Tim said in a very business-like voice, like he said things like this all the time. Like blowing up buildings intentionally was routine.
“What?” Kon crossed his arms in front of his chest in, hopefully, an intimidating and serious manner, “Shit. I heard you say that earlier and it went right by me. You’re crazy. I mean-Look, I don’t know how you guys do things in Gotham, but here we have due process, we have procedures. We don’t just blow shit up and leave-”
“I won’t get into an argument with you over modus operandi. Not tonight. I have evidence against those Kryptonians. The police will have grounds to hold them on,” Tim said calmly, “And as for the lab, if we don’t disrupt their infrastructure, they’ll find another scientist or doctor and some more security and be back to hurting people within a few days.”
Kon glared for what felt like ages. Tim didn’t glare back, but he met Kon’s glare steadily, unwaveringly. The tension charged the air between them, making Kon almost itch. He shifted. Started to float a few inches off the roof. Not that he needed the extra height to look daunting. He already towered over Tim, who for his part appeared entirely unfazed.
Kon sighed and relented for the second time (hopefully not the beginning of a habit). He just… Tim made a twisted sort of sense. And Kon was certain Tim’s convection was set and his patience much more practiced than Kon’s.
“Fine,” Kon huffed gruffly, and flew over the edge of the rooftop to fetch the two as Tim wanted. No he was absolutely was not whipped.
~*~
As soon as Kon disappeared over the ledge of the building, Tim allowed himself to curl into himself against the pain, to wrap one arm around his chest and breathe a little heavier, to bite his lip and fall to his knees. He didn’t cry out or whimper or moan despite the fierce impetus to do so. He couldn’t. Kon would hear and Tim didn’t need to look any weaker in the Kryptonian’s eye than he already did.
Tim took a minute. The foundation he’d been standing on, the adrenalin, was crumbing away under his feet, leaving him to feel. Everything. His-his chest. Like agony. Kon was right, he was one big bruise and more. Broken, or at least cracked, if Tim guessed right. And he usually did.
He was running short of time until Kon returned. He needed to pull himself back together. Tim focused, just like Bruce had taught him. Pain. Pain was just-just stimuli to the brain. It existed only to communicate and Tim had gotten the message. Now to just separate himself from the pain. Distance himself in his mind and breathe. A long exhale and he stood upright. He let his arm drop to his side and smoothed out his face just as Kon came flying back with one scumbag in each hand. Tim grinned, though it was forced past the wall of pain currently separating him from the world.
Tim gestured for Kon to follow, took two steps away from the warehouse set to blow and stopped. Closed his eyes, swayed, and swallowed his pride.
“Kon,” Tim forced out through his gritted teeth, “I think my ribs are broken. At least two.”
“What?”
Kon dropped the two guys on the roof and flew to Tim’s side. There in literally a second. He put his hand lightly, hesitantly, on Tim’s shoulder and Tim deigned not to shrug it off. Not because it felt good (felt steadying). He just didn’t have the energy to deal with anything but not giving in to that increasingly intense urge to moan against the white hot agony in his bones.
“I-he stepped on me, and the suit can only mediate so much, and…” Tim quickly realized he was rambling and got to the point. “I’m fairly certain my ribs are broken and the adrenaline is running out. Has run out. I need to watch for signs of shock.”
As if summoned by his words, Tim began to shiver.
“Ok,” Kon said, looking worried. “Ok, what do I do? I’ve never…”
He’d never dealt with something like this before. Tim could fill in the rest. His entire family was freaking invulnerable. Of course he’d never dealt with broken bones or shock. Fucker.
Tim scowled, “We stick to the plan.”
And with that Tim depressed the button on the trigger and the warehouse next to their rooftop went up in flames and smoke. Debris, flaming bits of wood and plaster, flew their way. Tim instinctively dropped to his knees and brought up his wings to shield himself. Kon, probably being a stupid knight in shining armor, crouched over him.
When the warehouse became more smoke than flame, one huge column mucking up Metropolis’ pristine skyline, Kon slowly pulled away.
“You’re insane,” He announced, dead serious.
Tim grinned a little. Freak. Insane. Sociopath. He’d heard it all before. He’d hear it again.
But at least this time there was no disgust coloring the words.
Kon sighed and held his hands out in front of his chest in a placating manner, “Are you going to let me carry you now or are really going to try your ‘bat-lines’ when you can barely stand?”
“I can stand.” And Tim did to prove his point, despite having to hug himself to keep the shivering in check. He nodded at the two knocked-out Kryptonians, “Besides you need to carry them.”
Kon scowled at him and took a step closer, “Tim-”
“Red Robin.”
“Like everyone doesn’t know who the Bats are nowadays! Tim, I’m carrying you home. I can hear the police on their way. We’ll leave the goons for them here.”
Tim measured his options for half a moment, eyes darting from the Kryptonians facedown on the concrete roof to the half-Kryptonian holding his hand out looking mature for once to the smoke plume blocking out a swath of the light of the city and down at his own feet.
“Fine,” he conceded and handed over the small usb drive (after double checking to verify the info had already been downloaded onto his gauntlet computer; he would need that info to further the investigation). Kon scooped it from his hand and tugged the doctor/scientist up by hi collar to his knees. He tucked the usb drive neatly into the front pocket of the white lab coat, next to a mundane black pen. He then grabbed up the security guard in his other hand and flew them both back in front of the warehouse where the authorities would find them easily.
Tim blinked slowly, pressing his lips together to stay composed, to stay upright, and Kon was back and grinning.
“What?” Tim raised an eyebrow.
Kon just kept grinning, “I used my heat vision to burn “arrest us” into the asphalt next to them.”
He obviously thought that was terribly witty. He looked like a puppy waiting for a pat on the head, tail wagging.
“Amusing,” Tim said dryly.
Kon dropped his grin with a habitual huff. Now he just looked annoyingly concerned.
“C’mon,” he said, reaching hesitantly for Tim again, “Let’s get you home.”
No. Not home. The Daily Planet. But Tim let Kon take him gently into his arms anyway, one arm under his knees and one supporting his back. Kon’s chest felt broad and warm and Tim hurt. He closed his eyes.