"So the mom..."
It is nearing 5 a.m. I should be doing my midterm. Obviously my sense of priorities has been completely shot to hell and back and so...fic. Because Mommy Kon is the best thing ever. And the end gave me an excuse for evil crack.
Kon-El never had a childhood. It really wasn’t something he was annoyed with since he figured the lack of parents and family life meant those nonexistent early years would have sucked. Almost more than the mere thought of Superman as his parental figure. Try sneaking out late at night with a guy who had x-ray vision and super strength telling you not to. Really, he was okay, it was dealt with, move on. He just wished he didn’t have to be the one caretaker, while his teammate-the only other one of his friends who was in the same boat of abnormal youth-got to experience toddlerhood at his expense.
The superspeed didn’t help so much either.
“Dis bwutton?” young Bart asked, his finger held precariously over Kon’s laptop.
“No Bart not-” Kon sighed as the button, and the rest of the keyboard was pushed repeatedly in the second it took him to sigh, “-that one.”
He was sure somehow his laptop would have vengeance for what Bart’s hyper button mashing did to it, and like clockwork a small tendril of smoke drifted from the fried circuit board.
“Great. Juuuuuuuuuuust great,” he muttered.
Bart had decided to stop pushing random objects in the cabin and was at Kon’s side instantly, tugging on his boot. “I win?”
Kon didn’t make the obvious rejoinder about how sad it was a two year old was beating on him (the video game slaughter would not leave the cabin if he had anything to say about it), but he thought it was a noteworthy effort to simply not whimper. “Yeah, Bart. Way to go.”
In his childish magnanimity, Bart decided to reward Kon with a pleased smile. “Yay! I go! I go!”
Mentally Kon thought if he wasn’t always so smooth he might have handled that badly. But it was really hard to blame Bart, random property damage not withstanding, when he was looking up at a person with such big wide innocent eyes.
“Up?” asked Bart, holding up little hands, “Pwease?”
At least he had his manners straightened out that was a good sign of parenthood, Kon thought and hefted Bart into his arms, “Okay, but no more touching things randomly because you could get hurt and then I’d end up beating up a wall socket, which is not big on my to do list.”
“No owies,” Bart said adamantly. “Supamommy still no owies.”
“So not the mom.”
“Uh-huh.”
“No, it’s Superboy, Bart. Boy. Not the mom. That’s a girl thing.”
“Mommy.”
Kon’s eyebrow ticked at the unassailable logic of a two year old. “For the last time, I’m your teammate, not your mother despite what Robin says. Who is not here, and not your dad and it’s all some horrible joke fate is playing on me so will you stop helping it?”
“Mommy.”
“ARGH!”
Buffy walked in through the door at Kon’s frustrated shout and she guessed that meant everything was hunky dory in the superhero world. Also because despite how annoyed Kon looked he was still gently bouncing Bart in his arms, which was cute and very motherly although Buffy would never use that word in front of Kon except when she gave in to the temptation.
“Hey, how’s Bart?”
“Fine,” Kon replied, taking the moment to lean over and kiss her on the cheek, “it’s my computer that was on the losing side.”
“I’s win!” Bart clapped.
“Nice job, Bart,” Buffy said and ruffled his hair.
“Can’t we take a moment to mourn my poor computer?”
Buffy smirked and slid her arm in the one Kon wasn’t using to support Bart. “I don’t know. Did it really write poorly misspelled stories like mine did?”
“No,” Kon said and sputtered, “I mean that one time in the Robin costume it was and it wasn’t me and don’t give me that look-”
“Rwobin daddy!” Bart cheered, for once providing a distraction in his favor.
“Then we’ll definitely mourn,” Buffy said, who was not laughing at the Robin thing. At all. Well, maybe a little but she was also not going to ask because she valued her sanity and was thankful at least that meant she wasn’t the daddy. “Where’s Molly?”
Kon let Bart down at the first sign of squirming, while still keeping an eye on him and responded. “Oh, Arsenic took her over for some quality time, figured the kid needed it after she single handedly brought down the sugar beast.”
Buffy took the opportunity to settle into Kon’s side and found out that despite the instinct to check for drool on his uniform, the parenting job made Kon very attractive. She couldn’t really admit that either, not because she was afraid of damaging or inflating Kon’s already battered ego, but there were some things better left unsaid for good and bad reasons so Buffy decided to make the most of it and just be glad Bart made a cute surrogate kid rather than Kal and the whole “parent eating” problem.
“That sounds like a relief for her,” Buffy mused, “which reminds me, Rikuou and Omi both offered up babysitting duties for Bart if it gets to be too much for you.”
Kon snorted, “Please. I’m Superboy. I have it all under control.”
The nicest part was that Bart waited three whole seconds before setting off a cacophony that was better left alone because he came back out and smiled saying, “No wowwy, I’s caweful.”
Buffy said nothing, which really said everything to Kon but he was too busy checking over Bart to make sure there wasn’t a problem. It was mostly a good thing, because Buffy got to see Mommy-Kon in action again and it didn’t involve rampaging god-like campers.
“No owies, Mommy,” Bart protested, while Kon’s hands were trying to fiddle with the goggles that looked meticulously duct taped. “Swear.”
“Not the mom,” Kon muttered like a mantra, all the while straightening out Bart’s uniform and most likely even checking behind his ears. Hardcore mothering. When satisfied he let Bart go. “Okay, but next explosion and no more airplane noises, hear me?”
Bart’s pout could be considered a weapon of inhuman proportions, enough to fell Darkseid and Neron with one quiver. But Kon remained firm, so Bart simply nodded and then returned to a smile as if nothing had happened at all.
“Thank you!” he mimicked in his best adult voice, before dashing out.
“That was so cute.”
“He is,” Kon mused fondly. Then realizing Buffy was staring and that was really very far from his masculine pride, coughed and straightened up. “I mean, of course he is.”
“I was referring to the both of you.”
“...I’m not cute,” Kon pouted.
“I have photographic evidence to prove otherwise remember?” Buffy said, and kissed the side of his jaw as if to remind him exactly how she won such prized blackmail material.
“That’s...” the boy of steel melted a little as Buffy found his earlobe, “hey, play fair.”
“Is Bart going to come in and enforce those rules?”
Kon deflated, “Actually that’s my job. Kids and their ‘my dad can beat up your dad’ stories.” He did not mention Bart’s observation that Kon was undefeatable except for ‘Huggy’ because then it might be true and he’d really be screwed then.
“So, about the babysitting offers?”
Kon stiffened. “What about them?”
“You okay with leaving Bart in capable hands Mister Mom?”
He was so flustered, Kon completely forgot to bristle and get huffy at the pet name. “It’s not that, Omi and Rikuou are great guys, but Bart has, well, special needs.”
“I’m sure Omi’s attempts at singing lullabies fall short of the mark, but he can make up for them,” Buffy replied. Idly she picked up a fallen blanket and set it back on one of the bunks, smoothing it out. It was a small effort to keep her hands busy while Kon set about scooping up the remains of Bart’s toys. All of which were present before the age regression but suddenly the “not safe for children under three” warning on Cable’s missile launcher set Kon off on a holy no choking quest.
“He might not be as fast as fourteen, but Bart can go from zero to 700 without trying. And what if something happens like Goku goes crazy again and he gets it into his head he has to go off saving the camp. Or he tries to pet the gorillas,” Kon muttered, “Do they even have childproof cabins?”
Buffy strode over, artfully dodging all the littered remains of toys, and put a hand on his shoulder. When she noticed how tense it was, Buffy decided to put a little slayer effort into getting Kon’s muscles to relax. “Kon, we’re in a camp with a tentacle monster and flesh eating zombies. The collective emo could potentially form into a living entity and eat us all. I really don’t think you have to worry about unlocked cupboards.”
Kon turned around and pulled Buffy into his arms. “Okay, so maybe I overreacted, but he’s just so...”
“Cute?”
“The word I was looking for was vulnerable, but cute too.”
“Very cute.”
“He refuses to sleep without his Wendy action figure. I woke up this morning with her kung fu grip clenched around my hair. He said she was giving me a morning hug. I think...”
Buffy mock pouted. “I wanted to give you the morning wake up call by tugging at a chunk of your hair.”
Kon, to his credit, shot her back a wry smile that meant he wasn’t totally distracted, or at least paying enough attention for his mind to fall into the gutter and swim around a bit. But even then Buffy could see his mind drifting back to motherly concerns, worry etched across his face.
“Am I really that bad?” he asked.
Buffy sighed and set her chin on his chest. “It’s not a bad thing at all. I mean, I started dating you after the...pregnancy. Right, that will never stop sounding weird. Point is that you care. A lot. And that’s a good thing, because it means, well...”
Kon quirked an eyebrow. “What? Are you going to pull another mommy joke on me?”
“Well, at least I know you’d take very good care of me if I turned back into a child. Again,” she smirked. “If I can’t have a pony I want flying with plane noises. Normal babysitting just doesn’t fit camp.”
“The super is there for a reason.”
“Yes, well, you are a supermommy.”
“...I walked right into that, didn’t I?”
Buffy looked up and straight into his eyes playfully. “I have been telling you the job you’re doing so far is sexy. Even if the pet names aren’t.”
“Huggy,” Kon replied smugly.
“I swear I have no idea where he gets that from.”
Buffy looked down at their embrace, noting belatedly just how common it seemed to be for them to just end up like that. Okay, maybe she had a bit of an idea where the name came from but really, they sounded almost completely different and she wouldn’t waste any further time internally debating a two year old when she could be fully enjoying snuggle time with her boyfriend. Immediate gratification rocked.
“We haven’t had any alone time in a while, huh?” Kon murmured into Buffy’s hair.
“Yeah, that’s a problem with all those crises and friendships, or friends with crises, completely get in the way of it.”
Kon made a noise, a concerned and trying to be responsible kind of throat clearing. “Maybe if Rikuou and Toboe were okay with it...”
Buffy closed her eyes. She didn’t want to admit it, but she liked him this way. Juggling responsibilities and being this really loving father figure while holding her and, yeah, Buffy had long since put out of her mind the “what do you want five, ten, fifteen years from now” game but...she couldn’t help if it the camp was giving her glimpses. Really psychologically distorted glimpses that probably would involve therapy but it was genuine deep down, the feeling of belonging. That’s probably why it was so scary.
Bart had snuck up on them when they weren’t paying attention. He stood halfway across the cabin with a quizzical expression at their embrace.
“I’s cowva eyes ‘gain?” he asked almost exasperated.
Buffy let go of Kon and knelt down so Bart could easily pull himself into her arms, “No, you don’t have to cover your eyes. We’re good.”
“We’re good?” Kon asked, tilting his head a bit.
“Babysitting can happen tomorrow, when they have the chance to childproof their cabins. And maybe get him a playmate or two. I’m sure Ami would join in for a chance at your famous Air Superboy rides.”
“He’ll probably change back tomorrow anyway, I mean, it’s already happening right?”
“Right,” Buffy agreed and noticed Bart had clambered up into her arms only to fall asleep. “And we didn’t even have to sing him a duet.”
“Ah, eh heh, I don’t know any songs.”
“Really?” Buffy smirked, “I could have sworn you were leading him in a rousing ‘Me and My Shadow’ chorus at Stan’s expense today.”
“That was teaching him the proper banter against villains,” Kon said, crossing his arms. “No kid, ah, teammate of mine is going to go into a battle without witty references.”
“Kon? It’s okay. Really. It’s cute.”
“I’m just saying that I...really?”
“Don’t worry. Giles taught me Broadway tunes, because apparently the British are big on theater and who knew? So I’m worse off than you are.”
Seeing an out Kon coughed and nodded, “We can’t all be as fortunate as I am in musical taste...”
“Ten minutes ago I met you~”
“What are you doing?” Kon sputtered.
“Making you share the pain,” Buffy replied, and unconsciously rocked Bart while grinning evilly at Kon. “I looked up when you walked through the door~”
“Aw geez, I’m never going to feel like a normal guy again…”
The ending sucks because it was written at five, what the grife brain...
Kon-El never had a childhood. It really wasn’t something he was annoyed with since he figured the lack of parents and family life meant those nonexistent early years would have sucked. Almost more than the mere thought of Superman as his parental figure. Try sneaking out late at night with a guy who had x-ray vision and super strength telling you not to. Really, he was okay, it was dealt with, move on. He just wished he didn’t have to be the one caretaker, while his teammate-the only other one of his friends who was in the same boat of abnormal youth-got to experience toddlerhood at his expense.
The superspeed didn’t help so much either.
“Dis bwutton?” young Bart asked, his finger held precariously over Kon’s laptop.
“No Bart not-” Kon sighed as the button, and the rest of the keyboard was pushed repeatedly in the second it took him to sigh, “-that one.”
He was sure somehow his laptop would have vengeance for what Bart’s hyper button mashing did to it, and like clockwork a small tendril of smoke drifted from the fried circuit board.
“Great. Juuuuuuuuuuust great,” he muttered.
Bart had decided to stop pushing random objects in the cabin and was at Kon’s side instantly, tugging on his boot. “I win?”
Kon didn’t make the obvious rejoinder about how sad it was a two year old was beating on him (the video game slaughter would not leave the cabin if he had anything to say about it), but he thought it was a noteworthy effort to simply not whimper. “Yeah, Bart. Way to go.”
In his childish magnanimity, Bart decided to reward Kon with a pleased smile. “Yay! I go! I go!”
Mentally Kon thought if he wasn’t always so smooth he might have handled that badly. But it was really hard to blame Bart, random property damage not withstanding, when he was looking up at a person with such big wide innocent eyes.
“Up?” asked Bart, holding up little hands, “Pwease?”
At least he had his manners straightened out that was a good sign of parenthood, Kon thought and hefted Bart into his arms, “Okay, but no more touching things randomly because you could get hurt and then I’d end up beating up a wall socket, which is not big on my to do list.”
“No owies,” Bart said adamantly. “Supamommy still no owies.”
“So not the mom.”
“Uh-huh.”
“No, it’s Superboy, Bart. Boy. Not the mom. That’s a girl thing.”
“Mommy.”
Kon’s eyebrow ticked at the unassailable logic of a two year old. “For the last time, I’m your teammate, not your mother despite what Robin says. Who is not here, and not your dad and it’s all some horrible joke fate is playing on me so will you stop helping it?”
“Mommy.”
“ARGH!”
Buffy walked in through the door at Kon’s frustrated shout and she guessed that meant everything was hunky dory in the superhero world. Also because despite how annoyed Kon looked he was still gently bouncing Bart in his arms, which was cute and very motherly although Buffy would never use that word in front of Kon except when she gave in to the temptation.
“Hey, how’s Bart?”
“Fine,” Kon replied, taking the moment to lean over and kiss her on the cheek, “it’s my computer that was on the losing side.”
“I’s win!” Bart clapped.
“Nice job, Bart,” Buffy said and ruffled his hair.
“Can’t we take a moment to mourn my poor computer?”
Buffy smirked and slid her arm in the one Kon wasn’t using to support Bart. “I don’t know. Did it really write poorly misspelled stories like mine did?”
“No,” Kon said and sputtered, “I mean that one time in the Robin costume it was and it wasn’t me and don’t give me that look-”
“Rwobin daddy!” Bart cheered, for once providing a distraction in his favor.
“Then we’ll definitely mourn,” Buffy said, who was not laughing at the Robin thing. At all. Well, maybe a little but she was also not going to ask because she valued her sanity and was thankful at least that meant she wasn’t the daddy. “Where’s Molly?”
Kon let Bart down at the first sign of squirming, while still keeping an eye on him and responded. “Oh, Arsenic took her over for some quality time, figured the kid needed it after she single handedly brought down the sugar beast.”
Buffy took the opportunity to settle into Kon’s side and found out that despite the instinct to check for drool on his uniform, the parenting job made Kon very attractive. She couldn’t really admit that either, not because she was afraid of damaging or inflating Kon’s already battered ego, but there were some things better left unsaid for good and bad reasons so Buffy decided to make the most of it and just be glad Bart made a cute surrogate kid rather than Kal and the whole “parent eating” problem.
“That sounds like a relief for her,” Buffy mused, “which reminds me, Rikuou and Omi both offered up babysitting duties for Bart if it gets to be too much for you.”
Kon snorted, “Please. I’m Superboy. I have it all under control.”
The nicest part was that Bart waited three whole seconds before setting off a cacophony that was better left alone because he came back out and smiled saying, “No wowwy, I’s caweful.”
Buffy said nothing, which really said everything to Kon but he was too busy checking over Bart to make sure there wasn’t a problem. It was mostly a good thing, because Buffy got to see Mommy-Kon in action again and it didn’t involve rampaging god-like campers.
“No owies, Mommy,” Bart protested, while Kon’s hands were trying to fiddle with the goggles that looked meticulously duct taped. “Swear.”
“Not the mom,” Kon muttered like a mantra, all the while straightening out Bart’s uniform and most likely even checking behind his ears. Hardcore mothering. When satisfied he let Bart go. “Okay, but next explosion and no more airplane noises, hear me?”
Bart’s pout could be considered a weapon of inhuman proportions, enough to fell Darkseid and Neron with one quiver. But Kon remained firm, so Bart simply nodded and then returned to a smile as if nothing had happened at all.
“Thank you!” he mimicked in his best adult voice, before dashing out.
“That was so cute.”
“He is,” Kon mused fondly. Then realizing Buffy was staring and that was really very far from his masculine pride, coughed and straightened up. “I mean, of course he is.”
“I was referring to the both of you.”
“...I’m not cute,” Kon pouted.
“I have photographic evidence to prove otherwise remember?” Buffy said, and kissed the side of his jaw as if to remind him exactly how she won such prized blackmail material.
“That’s...” the boy of steel melted a little as Buffy found his earlobe, “hey, play fair.”
“Is Bart going to come in and enforce those rules?”
Kon deflated, “Actually that’s my job. Kids and their ‘my dad can beat up your dad’ stories.” He did not mention Bart’s observation that Kon was undefeatable except for ‘Huggy’ because then it might be true and he’d really be screwed then.
“So, about the babysitting offers?”
Kon stiffened. “What about them?”
“You okay with leaving Bart in capable hands Mister Mom?”
He was so flustered, Kon completely forgot to bristle and get huffy at the pet name. “It’s not that, Omi and Rikuou are great guys, but Bart has, well, special needs.”
“I’m sure Omi’s attempts at singing lullabies fall short of the mark, but he can make up for them,” Buffy replied. Idly she picked up a fallen blanket and set it back on one of the bunks, smoothing it out. It was a small effort to keep her hands busy while Kon set about scooping up the remains of Bart’s toys. All of which were present before the age regression but suddenly the “not safe for children under three” warning on Cable’s missile launcher set Kon off on a holy no choking quest.
“He might not be as fast as fourteen, but Bart can go from zero to 700 without trying. And what if something happens like Goku goes crazy again and he gets it into his head he has to go off saving the camp. Or he tries to pet the gorillas,” Kon muttered, “Do they even have childproof cabins?”
Buffy strode over, artfully dodging all the littered remains of toys, and put a hand on his shoulder. When she noticed how tense it was, Buffy decided to put a little slayer effort into getting Kon’s muscles to relax. “Kon, we’re in a camp with a tentacle monster and flesh eating zombies. The collective emo could potentially form into a living entity and eat us all. I really don’t think you have to worry about unlocked cupboards.”
Kon turned around and pulled Buffy into his arms. “Okay, so maybe I overreacted, but he’s just so...”
“Cute?”
“The word I was looking for was vulnerable, but cute too.”
“Very cute.”
“He refuses to sleep without his Wendy action figure. I woke up this morning with her kung fu grip clenched around my hair. He said she was giving me a morning hug. I think...”
Buffy mock pouted. “I wanted to give you the morning wake up call by tugging at a chunk of your hair.”
Kon, to his credit, shot her back a wry smile that meant he wasn’t totally distracted, or at least paying enough attention for his mind to fall into the gutter and swim around a bit. But even then Buffy could see his mind drifting back to motherly concerns, worry etched across his face.
“Am I really that bad?” he asked.
Buffy sighed and set her chin on his chest. “It’s not a bad thing at all. I mean, I started dating you after the...pregnancy. Right, that will never stop sounding weird. Point is that you care. A lot. And that’s a good thing, because it means, well...”
Kon quirked an eyebrow. “What? Are you going to pull another mommy joke on me?”
“Well, at least I know you’d take very good care of me if I turned back into a child. Again,” she smirked. “If I can’t have a pony I want flying with plane noises. Normal babysitting just doesn’t fit camp.”
“The super is there for a reason.”
“Yes, well, you are a supermommy.”
“...I walked right into that, didn’t I?”
Buffy looked up and straight into his eyes playfully. “I have been telling you the job you’re doing so far is sexy. Even if the pet names aren’t.”
“Huggy,” Kon replied smugly.
“I swear I have no idea where he gets that from.”
Buffy looked down at their embrace, noting belatedly just how common it seemed to be for them to just end up like that. Okay, maybe she had a bit of an idea where the name came from but really, they sounded almost completely different and she wouldn’t waste any further time internally debating a two year old when she could be fully enjoying snuggle time with her boyfriend. Immediate gratification rocked.
“We haven’t had any alone time in a while, huh?” Kon murmured into Buffy’s hair.
“Yeah, that’s a problem with all those crises and friendships, or friends with crises, completely get in the way of it.”
Kon made a noise, a concerned and trying to be responsible kind of throat clearing. “Maybe if Rikuou and Toboe were okay with it...”
Buffy closed her eyes. She didn’t want to admit it, but she liked him this way. Juggling responsibilities and being this really loving father figure while holding her and, yeah, Buffy had long since put out of her mind the “what do you want five, ten, fifteen years from now” game but...she couldn’t help if it the camp was giving her glimpses. Really psychologically distorted glimpses that probably would involve therapy but it was genuine deep down, the feeling of belonging. That’s probably why it was so scary.
Bart had snuck up on them when they weren’t paying attention. He stood halfway across the cabin with a quizzical expression at their embrace.
“I’s cowva eyes ‘gain?” he asked almost exasperated.
Buffy let go of Kon and knelt down so Bart could easily pull himself into her arms, “No, you don’t have to cover your eyes. We’re good.”
“We’re good?” Kon asked, tilting his head a bit.
“Babysitting can happen tomorrow, when they have the chance to childproof their cabins. And maybe get him a playmate or two. I’m sure Ami would join in for a chance at your famous Air Superboy rides.”
“He’ll probably change back tomorrow anyway, I mean, it’s already happening right?”
“Right,” Buffy agreed and noticed Bart had clambered up into her arms only to fall asleep. “And we didn’t even have to sing him a duet.”
“Ah, eh heh, I don’t know any songs.”
“Really?” Buffy smirked, “I could have sworn you were leading him in a rousing ‘Me and My Shadow’ chorus at Stan’s expense today.”
“That was teaching him the proper banter against villains,” Kon said, crossing his arms. “No kid, ah, teammate of mine is going to go into a battle without witty references.”
“Kon? It’s okay. Really. It’s cute.”
“I’m just saying that I...really?”
“Don’t worry. Giles taught me Broadway tunes, because apparently the British are big on theater and who knew? So I’m worse off than you are.”
Seeing an out Kon coughed and nodded, “We can’t all be as fortunate as I am in musical taste...”
“Ten minutes ago I met you~”
“What are you doing?” Kon sputtered.
“Making you share the pain,” Buffy replied, and unconsciously rocked Bart while grinning evilly at Kon. “I looked up when you walked through the door~”
“Aw geez, I’m never going to feel like a normal guy again…”
The ending sucks because it was written at five, what the grife brain...