Title:Awkward Everything
Characters:Tim Drake/Kon. Implied Clark Kent (Superman)/Bruce Wayne (Batman).
Warning:Kiss. Awkwardness. Implied sexual activities but nothing explicit. Angst and then fluff.
Rating:PG-13
Summary:It wasn't supposed to be this awkward, this stilted, or this….weird. Dating never seemed harder.
Disclaimer:I do not own these characters. I do not make any profit off of these writings.
Awkward Everything
When they were friends, everything was perfect. They were on a level of teamwork that paralleled Superman and Batman. They werelike Superman and Batman. Only, Kon uses a lot more slang phrases, Tim has a million and one more problems then Bruce sometimes, but they were perfect.
They know how to push each others buttons, but they also know when to push them. They know the little habits that they have, although Tim is usually a heck lot better at spotting them, and they both what those little habits mean.
Kon sometimes thinks he can read Tim's move just by how Tim will unconsciously breathe just the slightest bit deeper, or how Kon can sometimes hear the muscle in Tim's face move. And that sounds creepy as fuck, but Kon has to deal with Tim. And Tim knows some of the creepiest shit. Ever.
Kon never wants to know how Tim knows how Clark likes to be fucking blowed by Batman. And Kon is not thinking about how Tim had flushed a deep red, how his heartbeat had sped up, how Kon could fucking smell Tim's…
Not going there. Not going there. At. All.
So, knowing each other. Yeah, they knew the each other. Favorite food, favorite comics, favorite TV show and movie (Kon always feels his heart clench whenever Tim bites the inside of his mouth watching LionKing), favorite lot of things. Not everything though. Because, like he said, Tim has a million and one problems he doesn't talk about, and sometimes Kon will clam up and not say a word. But they clicked. Teammates, friends, brothers.
And there was always the undercurrent of attraction. The hugs, the side glances, the way the both of them would blush subtlety, and the way they could just talk.
So, when they first tried a relationship, when they confessed, Kon stuttering, Tim looking at him straight on with a look of half fear, half a dubious and shocked hope, they hadn't suspected that it would be….
"…Shit,"
It was…is awkward. Awkward as knowing just howmuch Tim knows about, well…everyone. Awkward as the fact that it's been three months and they stutter around each other, they blush when they hug now, and they don't know how to act around each other. Talking is stilted and dull as Kon tries to push all these topics to talk about and as Tim just nods and gives a smile that tastes like plastic.
And it has been three months later and nothing has gotten better but they're stillattracted to each other, and Kon just wants to grab Tim sometimes and just...
And Tim had kissed him. Tim. And it's what Kon had wanted to do since day forever. Since Tim said yes. Before Tim had said yes.
But the thing is, it's not a good kiss. Their lips are barely touching but that isn't what makes it terrible.
Both he and Tim are rigor-motis stiff, standing apart from each other in a way that seems like they don't even want to touch each other. Their hands are clenched tight, balled up right next to their sides, and Tim is staring at Kon like Kon is going to punch a hole in his face at any moment. Kon is just staring at Tim as if Tim is going to bite his lips off.
"…Shit,"
Tim whips back and turns around, stiff and stoic. Kon bites his lips, licksthem, and he winces as Tim utters curses under his breath.
"Um, Tim…What was that," Kon groans internally at the words that spill out of his own mouth and he wants to go to the nearest empty plot of land, bring a scrap of diamond-encrusted titanium or something, and smack his head continuously against it.
"Kon. Shut. Up," Tim growls and Kon grabs unto Tim before Tim can walk away and wallow in….well, rejection.
"Tim, Tim, come on man, that's not what I meant," Kon mutters, shifting their hands so their fingers lace. "It's just…"
"Why the hell are we even doing this," Tim mutters, bitter and sad. Kon's heart clenches and Kon opens his mouth to tell him why, to explain to Tim just howmuch the shorter boy means to him.
"It's been three months Kon and we can't hug, we can't talk, we can't hang out, we can't even fucking kiss without acting like we're a pair of drunken ass strangers caught in the morning-after!" Tim is stiff and his fingers are limp within Kon's clasp. Kon swallows and tugs Tim towards him.
Kon knows Tim has at least a dozen ways to get out of a meta-human's grip and it's half-relieving and half pure relief that Tim just sinks into the hug. This feels right. This hug feels like their hugs from before; before all the awkwardness and this strange and distorted phase they're going through now.
Kon just hugs Tim and tries to convey the emotions he can't seem to say out loud. Tim hugs back, tight and unsure, and there's a lingering feeling of wrongness but it's so damn reassuring because they're touching, hugging, connecting, without the maddening, itching urge to jump away they have had for the past three months.
And this time Kon is leaning down to brush his lips against Tim and it's almost as bad as the first one because Tim is too tense, too wound up, thinking too damn much about the possibilities and probabilities of them breaking up.
"Stop that Tim," Kon shoots out, sharp and fearful. He's just got Tim, he's just got Tim, and Kon can't even think about letting go.
Kon hugs Tim tighter and Tim squeezes back with a bruising force and the third time they meet to touch lips it's not as horrible, not as awkward, not as absolutely bad like the other two times. And it's like the third kiss had opened a door because they're kissing each other, hugging each other, clinging unto each other in desperate, hungry ways. Tim is clutching unto his arms and Kon has one arm digging into Tim's hip and another one soothing its way into Tim's hair.
And there's nothing sexual about the way they cling, the way they arch into each other because it's too soon for that, it's not about the sex, and Kon is laughing because everything seems to click again.
"I don't think our morning-afters are going to be that bad anymore," Kon hums, and Tim groans, laughs, and makes a noise between exasperation and glee as they hug like they used to, touch like they used, but only with more.
"Stupid," Tim bites out, his smile sharp and bright, his eyes gleaming and Tim surges forward to kiss Kon again. Kon sighs and returns the kiss.
