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Three Ways That Tim And Kon May Get Together	By : Amarin Category: DC Verse Comics > Teen Titans Views: 1924 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Things You Don’t Regret

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DISCLAIMER: The characters depicted in this story do not belong to me.

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Rating: PG-15

Pairings: Tim/Kon, with mentions of Kon/Tana and Tim/Stephanie

Summary: A game of Truth or Dare is played, but the truths don’t end once the game does.

Notes: The Truth Or Dare/Hurt & Comfort scenario.

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They hadn’t been Young Justice for a long time, but Kon thought that it was ironically appropriate that their impromptu Teen Titans (Version 3.0) reunion party (thrown together hastily on the spur of the moment by a concordance of Bart and Cissie, of all people) still smacked of adolescence.

The games had started off rather nostalgically; it was Truth or Dare, and Kon had dared Tim to take off his mask, as he had the first (and only other) time they’d played this game. This time, however, Tim didn’t have another mask on underneath it. He’d grinned rather ruefully, and offered Kon another turn, but he’d declined. It was enough to be able to see Tim’s face; Tim kept forgetting that he could take the mask off around them, now that they all knew his identity.

(The price they’d paid for that knowledge was a bit too high, in Kon’s opinion.)

After that, however, they’d moved on to Never Have I Ever, and things had spiraled into the downright weird, if not outright odd.

Kon vividly remembered – and wished he didn’t – the time Bart put on a cheerleading costume to cheer Tim up. But he really didn’t want to know exactly when (or why) Bart wore a pink tutu. However, Kon would find a way to pay Tim back for him insisting that that whole (insane) ‘Make the Creeper Laugh’ plot involving him, the Daily Planet employees, and a parody of the song Lady Marmalade done Moulin Rouge style counted since he was wearing pink crinoline and ruffles and other women’s (under)garments.

Cassie was, at the moment, more than a little tipsy on some frothy blue concoction Cissie had whipped up (And how the hell did she and Bart get a hold of so many alcoholic beverages anyway? No, wait, forget that, where did Bart learn how to make a martini, shaken or stirred? And where did Cissie learn how to mix a margarita?) and just blinked for a moment when Tim told her it was her turn. “Umm…” Cassie cast about for something suitable to say, and when it appeared that she’d finally decided on something, she blurted out, “Never have I ever…had s-sex with a girl.” She tittered, eyes flicking from the floor to Cissie and away again almost so quickly that Kon didn’t notice.

Kon mentally changed his assessment of Cassie’s status from ‘more than a little tipsy’ to ‘completely soused.’ He drank, of course. To most people, it would be a forgone conclusion, since he was, after all, the Teen of Steel, the Sexy Super – but then, most people didn’t know exactly how close he and Tana were. It had been several years since Tana died, and it didn’t hurt so much to think of her anymore. But he still couldn’t bring himself to do more than flirt with people he didn’t (trust) know.

His brief relationship with Cassie was as close as he’d ever come (romantically) to being as close to someone as he was with Tana. Close, but…not near enough for him to regret that they’d broken up.

Bart did not drink, for which Kon thanked every deity he had ever heard of, and a few he made up on the spot. The idea of (Impulse) Kid Flash having sex was not only mind-boggling, it was also rather scary. Bart might have been almost two (chronological, in non-subjective time) years older than him, but Kon would shave himself bald if Bart didn’t possess less (emotional, and thus, sexual) maturity than he did.

Anita, (not?) surprisingly, didn’t drink. Mia did, though, and she appeared more subdued (almost ashamed?) than she had all night. From the look Tim was pointedly not giving her, Robin knew – and just as obviously didn’t think it was anyone else’s business.

That was good enough for Kon. Everyone had a secret (shame) or two that they’d rather no one knew about. (Most people didn’t have Lex Luthor as a genetic donor, but then the cosmic scale had to balance out Superman somehow, he thought.)

Tim drank, too, which surprised everyone except Kon. He remembered how Tim had looked when he talked about how Spoiler – the replacement Robin – had died, and he’d looked more like Kon had felt when Tana died in his arms, than he had when Slobo had been killed.

The difference between a friend…and a lover.

Kon’s melancholy mood seemed to influence the entire rest of the party, and the game wound down when Anita’s, “Never have I ever gotten drunk off my ass, mon,” was promptly followed by Bart passing out. Apparently his superspeed metabolism only worked to keep him from becoming inebriated if he hadn’t been ferrying people back and forth across the giant lake that used to be New Orleans for ten hours straight (minus ten minutes for the accumulated food and water breaks that he also took at superspeed). Even a speedster’s metabolism could be overworked, it appeared.

Anita, Bart, Cissie, Cassie, and Mia had all taken off from their civilian lives to help out down in New Orleans, but Bart and Cassie were the only ones with permission to stay at the Tower overnight. Ms. Sandsmark was out of town on some museum business and wouldn’t be home anyway. The Garricks agreed to tell Bart’s school he was sick, since they knew how much speedsters were needed in the rescue efforts – and The Flash was off with the League helping the inhabitants of Betelgeuse Five recover from a collapsing Hrung.

But Anita had her parents to take care of, even if Agent Maad was able to handle the Fites by himself during the day, and Cissie’s mother was being…temperamental…about her being in New Orleans as a civilian, and Cissie didn’t want to push her. Mia mumbled something about ‘medication checks’ when Kon asked her, and he didn’t want to push. Though if she was on medication, it probably explained why she hadn’t drunk anything alcoholic.

When the party broke up, Cassie was rather wobbly on her feet, and Mia had to help her to bed. By morning, Amazonian metabolism will have kicked in, and she’d be hangover free. Natch for Bart. But right now they both looked like the bad end of a fraternity/sorority kegger. Between them, Anita and Cissie managed to haul the speedster up to his room, before snagging Speedy and heading out the door with a promise to meet them at the Red Cross Rescue Station tomorrow at six.

“I’ll bring the donuts, mon,” Anita promised, and Cissie and Mia nodded in agreement. Bart was doing about fifty percent of the team’s work helping out down in the flood zone – Kon and Cassie both had strength, but Bart would always be faster, and his ability to vibrate through things had come in handy that day more times than Kon cared to count – and keeping him well-fueled was essential to his being able to function.

The party was over, and only Kon and Tim were actually awake, aware, and there. And Kon knew if they didn’t clean the place up right then, it would be ten times worse by tomorrow evening, and pretty much the next to last thing they needed was for Bart to trip over something when he got up for his midnight snack and break his leg. (The last thing they needed was for supervillians/aliens from outer space/evildoers from another dimension to decide to take advantage of the situation and attack. But the dark side had been surprisingly…quiet…for which Kon could only be thankful that there was, apparently, some type of honor among thieves, and other brands of criminals.)

Kon took a look at the debris and detritus of their party scattered around the rec room, sighed, exchanged a rueful look with Tim, and got to work. He used his TTK – sluggish from getting so much use today – to gather up all the trash and dump it into the giant plastic trash bags Tim held out. A little judicious application of his talent ensured that the trash took up as little room as possible. He even remembered to separate out the paper and plastic from the glass. Aunt Martha would be so proud.

That still left the kitchen, though, and Aunt Martha would scold him for leaving it a mess overnight, so Kon trudged wearily into the chrome and tiled room, finding it just as much of a mess as the rec room had been. He was pleased to note that Tim had silently followed him, obviously intending to help.

Kon wasn’t sure what it was that made him wonder about Tim’s answer to Cassie’s last question. Maybe it was the heartbroken look in Tim’s eyes as he gave his answer, one he recognized from his own mirror. Maybe it was how everyone but him seemed surprised by his answer; he wasn’t aware that he knew Tim so much better the others. Maybe it was how quiet Tim had been since giving his answer; he always did brood too much.

Whatever it was, Kon’s nerve, bolstered by a large amount of alcohol and curiosity, caused him to actually voice the question that was on his mind. “Spoiler?” he asked tentatively, and he knew Tim understood when he saw the other boy tense, flinch, and then visibly force himself to relax.

“Her name was Steph,” Tim said softly. “Stephanie Brown.” Blue eyes filled with hidden pain flicked to Kon’s face, and then away again. “Cassie?” he asked doubtfully, brows furrowed in that deep frown he only used when he was wearing his mask so that it was visible – or had forgotten that he wasn’t wearing it.

Kon shook his head. His relationship with Cassie had never gotten that far. Not for lack of trying on her part, but they just didn’t…mesh. Connect. Wonder Woman punching him across the San Francisco Bay didn’t help. “Her name was Tana,” he revealed. Anyone who wanted to could go back through old issues of the Honolulu Gazette, and find out about her, but he’d never actually told anyone about her. About how she used a brown rinse on her hair to dull some of the gold because she thought being too blonde made her look dumb. About how she’d nibble on her lower lip when she was working hard on a story, and looked so carelessly sexy with a pencil twisting her hair up and another tucked behind her ear that Kon could barely breathe. About how she’d hold him in her arms after they made love, and make him feel like he belonged…

“Tana Moon?” Tim asked, comprehension flooding his face. At Kon’s nod, he said sincerely, “I’m sorry.”

Kon knew Tim was sorry, and also that he was one of the few people he knew who could understand what it was like to lose a lover the way he had. “Me, too,” he said in reply, because he also knew that he was one of the few people who could understand what Tim was going through right then. He’d been there, after all.

Sometimes he felt he was still there.

“Thanks,” Tim said softly. He was still not accustomed to being around everyone without wearing his mask, so the fact that his semi-smile was in his eyes and not on his lips came as no surprise to Kon.

He didn’t mind.

The weight of the moment was too much for anyone to handle, let alone two teenage (well, mostly) boys. They both went back to cleaning up, a silent accord. Tim got out a broom and swept up the rubbish on the floor of the rec room. Kon formed his TTK into a make-shift dustpan and dumped the accumulated litter into the trashcan. He then separated out the plastic and glass bottles for the recycling, while Tim dampened a sponge and proceeded to wipe down the countertops in the kitchen.

With a final clink of glass on glass, Kon finished sorting the recycling and shoved the bins underneath the counter to be dealt with later. Tim rinsed out the purple sponge he’d been using to clean with and placed it next to the sink, then shook the crumbs out of the dishtowel over the wastebasket. By some silent accordance, they moved together towards the rec room, falling down next to each other onto the couch in mutual exhaustion.

Silence reigned for long moments, long enough for Kon to contemplate just falling asleep then and there.

“Does it ever get any easier?” Tim blurted out, eyes focused on some far off point.

Blinking the drowsiness from his eyes, Kon turned to Tim and asked, “What?” Superheroing? Using his TTK? Living a lie?

Though, admittedly, most people considered their civilian identities to be the real ones, and their costumed identities to be the fakes – but, then, most people weren’t created to replace Superman. And while he loved Ma and Pa Kent, Smallville was boring, and he absolutely loathed pretending to be a normal high school kid.

He wasn’t normal. And he hadn’t ever gotten to be a kid; he’d always been a superhero.

“Living with the pain,” Tim said, hurt echoing through every word.

Of course, there were worse things than living a quote-unquote ‘normal’ life. “No,” Kon said honestly, throat tightening with emotion. He shifted closer to Tim, needing (to give) reassurance. “The pain gets easier to handle, but it…it never completely goes away.” He didn’t think it was a bad thing that he still thought of Tana, even though the memories ached inside his heart; she was his first love, and it would dishonor her memory for him to try and forget her completely.

And it was a good kind of pain; it reminded him he was still alive. That he could still live (and love)… That he had friends (and more).

“I…I can’t stop thinking about her. About Steph,” Tim admitted, breath hitching in his throat. “Her laugh, her smile, her kisses, her hugs…” He hunched over, head hanging down, hair hiding the pain in his eyes.

“Tell me,” Kon invited. Tim was (everything) his friend. He needed Tim (to be okay).

Tim looked at up him searchingly, as if taking his measure, then started off slowly, “She had so much fun being Spoiler. And she was so proud to be Robin. She said…said that she always wanted to be closer to me, and now she was part of the legacy, too.” A wistful longing in his eyes, Tim said, “I…I could never get over how…how happy she was, just being with me.” Blinking tears back from his eyes, a whimper caught in Tim’s throat as he said, “I keep remembering the sound of her laughter, the way she looked when…when she told me she loved me.” He swallowed hard, and unconsciously leaned into Kon.

I’m happy just being with you, Kon didn’t say. That wasn’t what Tim needed to hear (right then). “You never do. Get over it, I mean,” Kon told him, his left arm wrapping around Tim, hand gripping Tim’s shoulder in a half-hug. “At least, I haven’t.”

Tim’s silence was heavy, waiting for the courage to continue. “We only…” He swallowed, hard. His laugh was harsh, brittle, and utterly devoid of humor, the sound that of broken glass caught in his throat as he said, “It’s stupid, but…” He trailed off.

“It’s not stupid if it’s the way you feel,” Kon argued.

Nodding, Tim said, “Maybe not, but…” He blushed, “…it was only seven times before she… And all I can remember is how she said it would take at least another half-dozen before we’d get good at it.” His eyelids shuddered closed. “And she – we never got the chance,” he choked out, hands balled into fists at his sides.

Thirteen…that was a really sucky number. “You think you have all the time in the world, and then…your world ends.” Kon knew how that felt. It was like that old saying: To the whole world, you might be one person, but to one person, you might be the whole world.

Tana had been his world, because she treated him like a boy first, and a super second.

(Tim was his world, because he treated him like he was both, and still a regular guy.)

“But think of it this way,” Kon said, laying a comforting hand on Tim’s shoulder. “How much worse would you feel if you’d held back and never taken that chance? Never had those memories?” He lived in the middle of Bumfuck, Nowhere, and the only radio stations that continually came through were country. Normally, he thought most of those songs were…well, so very not cool…but Garth Brooks occasionally threw out something where the meaning of the lyrics transcended the uncoolness of the music.

He still remembered the last time he and Tana had danced. He wouldn’t forget it for the world…no matter how much the memories could hurt.

“The things you regret most in life are the things you didn’t do,” Tim quoted from some unknown source.

Kon couldn’t help but think of one of the things he hadn’t done. “Yeah,” he agreed, voice thick in his throat as he gazed at Tim.

“It’s just…no matter how much I’m glad to have them, the memories are…difficult…to deal with…sometimes.” Tim’s expression was bittersweet; half-smiling at good memories, half-crying at the bad ones.

“Memories don’t leave the way people do,” Kon said, lips twisting up in a humorless grin. “That’s both good and bad.”

There was a momentary glint of…well, not humor, but lightness…in Tim’s eyes, and his own lips quirked up slightly, before once again turning down. “Yeah,” he agreed softly.

They both lapsed into silence for a moment, before Tim croaked out, “What…what do you do when you can’t…can’t remember the good times for all the bad ones? When you…” He made a watery sound, as if trying to swallow down his tears. “When you feel guilty for…everything?”

Kon wished that Tim had someone else he could talk to about this, if only because Kon had no idea what to say to him and was sure he’d fuck it up. But Tim was his best friend (and more) and he had to try. “I’ve known…quite a few people who’ve died.” Some of them better than others. “And even if you don’t feel guilty for it happening…when they die…it doesn’t make it hurt any less.” It was a cleaner cut, and it might heal faster…but it always bled.

“Oh.” Tim’s eyelids fluttered closed, and he squeezed them shut, pain wracking his form. “What…” he sniffed, “what does?”

You. Being with you. “Friends,” Kon answered to quiet the whispers of truth in his own heart. “Best friends.” And he placed a hand on Tim’s chin, tilting his head up so he could look into that aching soul through those watery eyes. “Having people who understand…that helps a lot. And I’ll always be here for you, Tim.”

Tim’s eyes welled up with tears, and he blinked them back. “I… I’m here for you, too, Kon,” he whispered.

And then they were moving towards each other, drawn together by feeling the same force of emotion. Kon met Tim’s trembling lips with his own hesitant ones. A breath, and then they moved together, pressing against each other from head to toe, sealing their vows, spoken and unspoken, with a kiss. The kiss barely lasted three seconds, only long enough for the two of them to share a heartbeat, and then…

Then the kiss grew deeper, and hotter, and they were clinging to each other almost desperately, as if trying to bind themselves together so they couldn’t lose each other like they’d lost so many others. Holding on for dear life…or maybe just because they wanted to. Kon’s TTK reached out, his aura wrapping around them both like a living blanket, threads of force tying them to each other with an almost glowing, intangible feeling of comfort, and safety…and belonging.

Tim tasted salty, like the tears he’d never let fall, and sweet, like the laughter he’d never let out, Kon thought. At least…not around anyone but him.

It was less the kisses or the touches that bound them together and more the fact that they trusted each other…trusted each other not to leave. Because, while it was nice to have friends you could trust, it was even nicer to know each other, and all the ways you could trust each other. And to share it.

The kisses trailed off and they just held each other for long moments that stretched into eternity, arms wound around each other and eyes closed. Kon shifted to lean back against the arm of the couch, and Tim moved with him, and their eyes were jarred open, blue locking onto blue. Tim’s smile was shaky, and Kon’s own was rather weak, but when they met in another kiss, it was the closest to love either of them had felt in a long time.

Maybe it really was.

And maybe…maybe there’d be nothing about this to regret.
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Three Ways That Tim And Kon May Get Together