A/N:

Prompt: alive.

Rating: T for language, vaguely implied sex.

Characters/pairings: Tim/Kon

Summary: Kon-El announces his resurrection to a certain Robin. Passionate making out follows.

The Nest's proximity alarms alerted him to his presence before his visitor announced himself, but all the alarms in the world couldn't have prepared him for the teen now standing in front of him.

He hadn't really known what to expect from the arrival, whether the meta making a beeline to Robin's "Nest", one of his small hideouts around Gotham, was friend or foe, but he whatever he'd expected, it hadn't been this.

Tim could only stare at the visitor, a dark-haired young man in his mid-teens, clad not in his distinctive costume, but a simple, gray one-piece suit that did nothing to make him any less recognizable to the young superhero.

"Tim," was all the youth said.

He had no idea how his guest had found the hidden den, but that was hardly the first question that sprung to his reeling mind.

He was alive.

Kon-El was alive.

"How-" he began, only to be silenced as Kon's mouth sealed over his own. For a moment, he just stood there, his already stunned mind dazed by the shock, but he recovered quickly. Tim returned the kiss, his mind wiped clean of all concerns but shoving his tongue down the teen's throat.

Fuck "how". Let the others figure out "how". Let Bruce do his DNA tests; let Wonder Woman question him; let Superman x-ray him or whatever the hell Superman would do; Tim didn't give a damn. Kon was alive.

And how. Tim deepened the kiss, moaning slightly as the teen's hands trailed over his body, massaging, groping, tugging at his costume. Reluctantly, he pushed him away, gasping for breath as he fumbled with his belt, usually nimble hands now graceless with anticipation and astonishment. After a painfully long handful of seconds, he managed to undo the damn thing, and he moved on to his cape, his tunic, his pants, his boots, his gloves, while nearby, Kon stripped off whatever the hell the thing he was wearing was. Now down to their underwear, they moved together again, clumsily tumbling towards the Nest's small cot as they explored the other's mouth.

The mattress was hard, the sheets rough, but Kon's skin was warm against him, soft and smooth. They were sitting now, legs tangling awkwardly as they struggled to maintain the kiss whilst finding a comfortable position. Finally, Tim broke away long enough for them to settle themselves, and they joined again briefly before Tim moved on, trailing kisses down Kon's neck, his chest, his stomach, and then going back up the same way. He almost sobbed with joy as he felt the steady thrum of Kon's pulse against his lips, tasted the salt of his skin. He stopped only when firm hands pressed him down, shifting slightly as he lay back. Kon straddled him, hands pressed against Tim's chest.

Their gazes locked. Tim stared into Kon's startlingly blue eyes, breathing heavily as he regarded the mixture of love and lust they held, the hunger in the stare, and he realized then that, miraculous as it seemed, Kon was here, alive, and he wanted Tim just as much as Tim wanted Kon.

He couldn't believe it. After so long, after so much time spent wanting, pining, mourning, wishing and praying, he was here. Kon-El was back.

"It's really you," he whispered, the words leaving his mouth seemingly of their own accord.

Kon smiled, and Tim just about melted right then and there. "Yes."

Tim grinned, and Kon leaned down, his lips locking over Tim's, his hands trailing lower.

Let the other's do their tests, ask their questions. For now, Kon was alive, and that was all that mattered.

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A/N: I think that the most annoying thing about writing same-sex pairings is trying to deal with the stupid fricking pronouns. I hate how much I had to use the proper names here; it just sounds repetitive.