Fall

Friday

The snow was early that year. When the high schools let out for Thanksgiving Break, the streets were glistening. The teenagers were bundled up in coats and hats. Some even went as far as gloves.

Kyle combed his fingers through his dark hair and then snuggled his fur coat around him tighter.

"When should we get together?" he wondered.

"They're showing Evil Dead at the campus tomorrow," Johnny offered, his iPod dangled from around his neck. He had a yellow knit hat with red Flash wings.

"I'll talk to Dick," Tim murmured.

"Will you be visiting family?" Kyle asked, he reached down and took Tim's hand, despite Tim's resistance.

"Probably not."

Neither of his friends said anything in reply. They'd known Tim for the past several years, yet they didn't know much about him beyond a few basic facts. He lived with his older brother, he did not enjoy being particularly social, but he did like a good mystery. Also, if he really didn't want to talk about something, there was nothing in the world that could make him.

"We'll call you," Johnny decided. He put in his earpieces and Tim could just barely pick up the sounds.

They got on the bus and the other passengers were been too cheery to bother them. Kyle and Johnny talked and smiled, while Tim didn't. His mood sunk lower when they arrived at their stop and Dick was waiting for him. Kyle grasped his forearm, in an effort to convey his confusion. Tim shook him off and walked to Dick.

"Bye," Tim muttered.

"We're going to Gotham," Dick said when they were out of earshot. He had figured if he just stated it Tim wouldn't argue. He was sorely mistaken.

"No," Tim nixed the thought as he headed for their apartment. "I'm staying here, you're going to Gotham."

"They want to see you," the man argued.

"I don't want to see them."

"They're family."

"Your family."

"They're your family too!"

"You know exactly where my family is."

"Damn it, Tim!" Dick stopped before their door. Tim pushed past him to go inside.

"Not this year."

When Dick showed up in Gotham on the motorcycle, it was immediately obvious to everyone that Tim had chosen not to come with. Cass tilted her head to one side and frowned. Jason went inside to ring the little bird up.

"What the fuck?" he snarled at the innocent receiver.

"Not having this conversation."

Cass snatched the phone. "Merry Thanksgiving."

"You too, Cass. Bye."

They hung up and Jason shot her an annoyed look. "I wanted to yell at him," he pointed out. She shrugged in response.

Dick refused to comment further and started to hand out hugs all around. Except to Bruce, who resisted and looked as if even he wanted to ask about Tim.

It was when Superman dropped by to say hello to the family and noticed Tim wasn't there, that it was officially too much.

"Dick," Jason began in an accusatory tone. "How could you let him stay in Blüdhaven?"

"He's uncomfortable here," Dick responded around a sigh. "I…it didn't seem worth it to make him." He glared at Bruce for a moment, but the man ignored it. He still did not approve of Tim's initiation into the world of tights and flights. He probably never would.

Cass reached over and tugged at Dick's coat sleeve. She made an odd motion in the air.

"Sweet potatoes!" she announced with tremendous pride. She dragged him away to the kitchen where Alfred informed him that a certain young lady had assisted him. He pointed out the casserole she had prepared. She'd made a design on the top with marshmallows, Dick looked at it. A bat. Why wasn't he surprised?

Cass crouched down in front of the oven and watched the turkey with avid interest. She looked up curiously at Alfred when the timer went off. He had to shoo her away so he could remove the bird.

The Batfamily sat down to Thanksgiving Dinner and none of them had any illusions that it was normal. Jason had to sit between Bruce and Dick because they could never get along. Cass stared at all the steaming food, her eyes bright. Dick, meanwhile, eyed the empty chairs and knew Tim should have been in one. He let out a gust of breath…Cass reached across the table and poked him with her fork. She gestured at her casserole.

"Sweet potatoes for Tim."

Saturday

His breath puffed out before him in clouds and he shoved his hands further into the pockets of his coat. After the movie, Kyle and Johnny had gone to get coffee. Tim had his suspicions about them. He didn't mind it. He liked to think that he only used them in order to pretend that Tim Drake actually existed. (Brambling was of the opinion that he did not.)

He thought he'd actually enjoyed the movie despite himself. The bad acting had made him smile, but he wondered if he was correctly defining the emotions within him. He didn't think so, since emotions were not his forte. Tim often wished they didn't exist. Point to case, the tree rape was funny even if he was as emotionally inclined as a block of wood.

As he walked, he noticed that he was following someone else's footprints. His steps matched the ones that had come before him with practiced precision. As if he really needed to hide his movements. He stepped wide, just to leave his own mark on the sidewalk snow.

The cold, dry air burned his throat and he wanted nothing more than to get back to the apartment and sleep. He thought maybe he could. Dick wasn't there to give him the concerned-big-brother look if he did have a nightmare.

He used his key to open the door and warm air hit his face with full force. He exhaled noisily and toed off his sneakers. The coat was hung neatly on the peg from years of habit.

Tim sat down on the couch, curling up at one of the ends. He wished that he could have gone to the Tower. He could have trained or something, but it would have been empty. As much as he didn't want to see Bruce and as much as he wanted to be alone, he didn't want to be alone there.

He turned on the TV so he could watch the news. The phone rang and he ignored it. It was turning into one of those days where Tim Drake tried to make himself known to himself.

The doorbell rang. Tim got up in a pique of pure, unadulterated, curiosity. No one should have been visiting. When he opened the door no one was there, but he had a tickling feeling at the back of his neck. He whipped around in time to see Kon climbing in through the window.

"What are you doing here?" Tim asked. He was more shocked than he was letting on.

"Long story short…Supes went to see Bats yesterday, you know Thanksgiving, and you weren't there. So, when he came to the Kent's he mentioned it." Kon shut the window and looked around the apartment. "This place is so much better than Smallville."

"You didn't answer my question," Tim observed, he made his way closer using slow wary steps.

"I didn't? Oh, right, well…we're sorta buddies, right? It's not cool to let your buds spend holidays alone."

"How did you know where to find me?"

"Dick let us know where he was, in case we ever needed him. You live with him so,"

"Deductive reasoning." Tim blinked a few times in hurried succession, in case this was a fucked up dream.

"I can leave if you want me to?" Kon offered. He hooked his thumbs into his belt loops, in a vain effort to look casual.

"No, it's fine." Tim realized he didn't have his mask and in a sequitur instant discovered he didn't care. "I could get you a drink?"

Kon absolutely beamed. "No, thanks. You know, I should have thought to bring some of Aunt Martha's cookies or something."

Tim inclined his head toward the couch and they plopped down on it together.

The TV was chattering. There was a reel of Tarantula on the local news, then one of Cassie on the national news. The phone rang again. The clone gave his friend a confused look when he didn't get up. Tim shrugged and made himself more comfortable.

Kon's lips were pursed as if he wanted to say something further. Tim turned to pay attention. Two pairs of blue eyes met.

"How long were you supposed to be alone?"

"A week."

"Shit, what were you going to do, until I showed up and fucked your plans?"

Tim raised an eyebrow. "I didn't have any plans for you to 'fuck'."

Kon blushed. "I meant…"

"I know what you meant."

"Right."

"I don't mind being alone."

"I…"

"I don't mind being with you either."

Tim was going to say that. He was going to get it out and he was going to recline on the couch and watch Kon become more uncomfortable. Because that was the way the script went. Tim had spent the past five months observing Kon. Not him specifically, but the Titans: his new teammates.

Kon wasn't supposed to press forward. Kon wasn't supposed to grab his head and kiss him. No one was supposed to do that to Tim, who put so much effort into staying aloof. Most importantly, Tim wasn't supposed to kiss back.

It happened. Their lips moved and Kon was running his fingers over Brambling's face, where the mask would have—should have—been. The fabric of the couch cushions made a crinkling noise as they shifted. As Kon leaned him back. Tim's palms were curved to each side of Kon's face and his tongue was twined with Superboy's.

"Tim," Kon moaned. Tim had never given the Titans his name. He had never planned to, but Jason and Dick had blabbed. He'd been angry at the time, for the reason that he'd wanted to keep his worlds separate. He didn't mind so much now. There was a curious feeling attached to thinking 'I'm kissing Kon and holding Superboy'. Then he made a low whining sound in his throat and bucked his hips.

"Oh god," Tim whimpered. Their lips parted and his mouth drifted upwards over Kon's brow. The clone was pressed against his thigh, rubbing his erection, grinding and Tim gasped, his hips jerking again.

"This wasn't the plan," Superboy panted. His voice was so breathless and amazed. Tim threw his head back and closed his eyes. His jeans were punishing, but he didn't want to risk ruining everything by fumbling over his zipper. He made another noise when Kon's hands left his face and moved to his crotch.

"I didn't think…you had a—Kon—plan," Tim called out. It was loud enough to be embarrassing. He groaned harshly when Kon's hand enveloped his dick. When had he gotten the pants open? "Oh god…you don't…"

"I don't know what else to do," Kon growled. He fisted Tim hard and fast. "So fucking confusing…"

Control was rapidly becoming a foreign concept. His jeans and boxers were around his thighs, constricting him and he squirmed violently. His whole body was tingling from a lack of oxygen. Brambling leaned forward to crush their mouths back together. He came with a wet murmur of sound, muffled by Kon's tongue.

Tim reached down to twine their hands and his mess squished between Kon's fingers. It made a filthy sound and Kon grinned against his mouth. Tim urged their hands up and began to lap at the cum delicately with the tip of his tongue.

The clone shifted above him, pressing himself to Tim's hip and hissing with pleasure. He buried his face into the crook of his friend's neck. His moan came out as a tepid gust of breath as Tim began to work blindly at his zipper. His hand was shaking and he didn't understand why. Then it didn't matter because he had a cock in his palm. He rubbed his thumb over the slit and Kon nearly sobbed.

A look of concentration stole over Brambling's face and Kon was certain it was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. He was so close. His thighs were twitching a little and he couldn't keep his hips still. Tim was so good, with those calloused hands and it was too good, he wondered who else…who…

"Jesus!" he groaned, pumping against Tim's tiny, nimble (skilled) hand. When Tim snaked his other hand down and cupped his balls, kneading just enough, Kon orgasmed in a blur of mess and white.

They kissed again even though it would have served them better to get their breath back. The skins of their thighs were stuck together from their sweat and the room smelled of their sex.

"That was," Kon began to say, but Tim sat upright. He stared at the door. Superboy heard the soft clink of keys.

"Dick. We…Talk. Later." He urged Kon off of him, tugged his pants back over his hips and took quick strides towards the bathroom. Kon had to fight with his own clothes and then the window, but he made it out. The sound of a shower starting followed on his heels.

Sunday

Tim didn't sleep a wink and in the morning they had Cass's sweet potatoes for breakfast.

"You're back."

They hadn't spoken the day before. Tim had stayed in the shower for an irregular amount of time, and then he'd gone into his room and shut the door. They hadn't talked while patrolling either. Dick had asked if he was okay, but other than that they'd been in separate places and retained radio silence.

Now they were talking.

"I'm sorry."

Dick froze and gave his little brother a calculating look. "You don't need to be."

"I ruined your visit with Bruce."

"Jesus." Dick rubbed at his eyes because Tim was so frustrating! "No. Just. No."

"You could have stayed," Tim began to point out.

"No! You shouldn't be alone. Even if they aren't your family, I am. And I am not going to just leave you alone in our apartment. I'm not just leaving you alone. I don't care how much you want me to!" Dick slammed his hand down on the table. He was angry and Tim was staring at him in such an odd way.

"I still…" I still have nightmares about Batman swallowing me whole. "I'm sorry. Maybe next year."

"Jay says you have to come for Christmas."

"I'll think about it."

Monday

The phone rang a lot. Kyle and Johnny each called respectively. Then the calls from the heroes began to pour in as they each discovered, in turn, that Dick was no longer at the Manor.

By noon, Tim was ready to unplug the thing. He was aware that Nightwing had a lot of friends. But why couldn't they just talk to Dick? Why did each and every one of them feel the need to say hello to him as well? Even better question, since this was Dick's last day off, why would he waste it answering the phone?

"You're part of the family," Dick answered, his tone was grim and Tim knew he was still brooding over the whole 'Holiday Visiting Family' issue.

They lounged on the couch, watching some parade somewhere. Tim thought it was dull, parades in general but watching them on TV specifically. The phone rang. Dick picked it up. They'd gotten a longer cord and pulled the thing over to the couch after the first hour's worth of phone calls.

"Hello? Hey, wow, didn't think I'd be hearing from you. Sure. Tim, take the phone and be civil."

The phone was pressed to his ear and Jason made a point of talking loudly,

"Hey, Birdy! How are you doing?"

Tim pulled the receiver away several centimeters. "What do you want?"

"Didn't Dick just tell you to be civil?"

Tim moved the phone a few more centimeters. "I am being civil. Now, what do you want?"

"I'm thinking of taking the Redbird over there and bugging the hell out of you for the rest of your vacation."

"Nothing I could do to stop you?"

"I might consider it, if you asked."

"No you wouldn't."

"I would too. I would still come, but I would consider it first."

"You'll be heading out tonight?"

"Yes."

"I'll make an effort to not be here then."

"Fuck you."

"Noted."

Tim held the phone back out to Dick.

Tuesday

Jason started the next day by asking if Tim he'd slept. Tim glared and shut the bathroom door in his face. Jason sat in the hallway, with his back to the door and talked.

"And Cass did this thing, shit, I can't even describe it…She's so flexible she makes Dick look like a block of wood."

Tim rolled his eyes as he put the skin colored makeup on his face. He didn't take it off when he slept, but, to keep it looking real, he had to wash it off and reapply in the mornings.

"And with her costume, the way the leather was all clinging and you could see every muscle…Man, I bet even Bruce was hard…"

Tim opened the door quickly. Jason turned and gave him an impish look.

"Don't talk about your sister like that," the little bird muttered.

"You're going to make her cry," Jason said as if he were indicting him. "She's your sister too."

Tim edged past him in the narrow hallway. He made his way toward the kitchen. "Not legally."

Jason followed with an indignant squawk. "You're such a piece of shit!"

"Jay!" Dick snapped. He was sitting on the counter beside the toaster oven, waiting for his bread to finish toasting. "Watch your language."

"Yes, daddy," Robin-boy sneered.

It was like some surreal kind of sitcom, the three brothers all crammed into the tiny kitchenette talking and bickering. Someone ruffled someone else's dark hair and a set of blue eyes narrowed while another pair gleamed with mirth.

The car horn sounded out front, Dick shoved his last piece of toast into Jay's mouth and headed out the door. He waved to his little brothers from the doorway and then was gone.

Tim drank his coffee in silence, reading the newspaper like he always did. His mind catalogued all the information: woman giving birth the quintuplets, Asian grocery robbed. Meanwhile, his brain went over the fact that he hadn't spoken to Kon since Saturday.

He wondered if Kon had gotten in trouble with the Kent's for, not just leaving the city, but for leaving the state altogether. Tim wondered if they'd noticed. How fast could Kon fly anyway?

He took a long draught of coffee as he replayed the weekends events. He hadn't expected that from Kon. He'd been going over those moments for the past forty-eight hours and he still wasn't able to explain it. He was supposed to be the second greatest detective next to Batman himself and he hadn't noticed that Superboy, who had all the subtlety of an orange yak at a Russian fashion show, had wanted him in any kind of way. They got along, yes, they were friends and they talked like any other normal teenaged superheroes might. Which was a strange paradox right there. Was he over thinking? Dick had told him, on multiple occasions, that he did that…

"EARTH TO TIM! COME IN, BIRDY! THIS IS JASON SPEAKING! DO YOU COPY?"

Tim jolted in his seat and blinked. Jason was watching him. Not just watching him. He'd gotten onto the table and was sitting on his knees in front of him.

"What?" Tim asked.

"You zoned out." Jason looked concerned. Tim hated that look on Jason's face. He wasn't supposed to be concerned, he was supposed to be the one who thought this was all a game.

Wednesday

Tim crashed and burned. He slept from one in the morning until noon the next day. The patrol hadn't been that difficult, but he hadn't slept for weeks. He had a debt to pay.

He came out into the living room to find Jason lounged upside down on the couch.

"Sleeping Birdy awakens," he said with a leer.

"You let me oversleep," Tim was tempted to pout. He didn't expect Jason would respond well to that, however.

"Yeah." Jason was doing the concerned thing again. Tim let that subject die, quickly.

"Should we do something today?" Brambling felt a yawn coming on and he beat it back.

"Like what?"

"What did you come here to do?" Tim's exasperation level was rising. Jason was doing it on purpose.

"To hang with you, since you were a pussy little bitch and skipped out on the holiday festivities." Jason sat up on a swift motion and narrowed his eyes. "Thought I made that clear, guess not."

"Thought I made it clear I wasn't going to talk about that, guess not," Tim snapped back. Jason looked taken aback and surprised. Tim getting snappy was on the same level as Dick cursing. (Outside of sex. "Oh fuck, Roy, fuck me." He wasn't supposed to know about…) No composure, Tim was all composure.

"You can't run from it forever."

"Forever isn't here yet."

Thursday

Jay was still there when Tim woke up. He'd slept two nights in a row: he was going for the gold. At least, it was a reasonable hour. The littlest Bat wandered into the kitchen just as Dick was pouring himself a glass of milk and then forcing Jason, still in pajamas, to take some vitamins.

"Morning, little brother," Nightwing greeted as he pried open Jason's mouth. "You two have any plans for today?"

"I told Kyle and Johnny I'd convene with them at the mall. I think I'd like Jason to meet them," Tim replied. He headed straight for the coffee.

Dick grinned and it made Robin wary.

"Kyle and Johnny? Who are they?"

"Tim's friends from school," Dick informed him.

Jason turned his attention to Tim. "I didn't know you had a friend!"

"Two, even," Tim answered, and gave Jason the most withering look he could muster. Alfred would have been proud.

"Then there are the Titans," Dick interjected.

"Whoa, whoa, mutual friends, I'm talkin' Birdy's friends."

"Shut up and put on clothes so we can go out," Tim muttered.

Jason obeyed him, just that once. Dick made a comment about it, but didn't have time to get into a full-blown discussion on Jay's acquiescence. The car pool pulled up. At least he had his breakfast finished.

Within the hour Jason and Tim were trudging through the snowy streets. Jason said something about how Blüdhaven was cleaner, how he was a little jealous that Brambling and Nightwing got the city. Tim stared at him and thought about how much he just wished they could trade places. How he wished he could go into Gotham without the nightmares following him.

Jason demonstrated his Robin-honed reflexes by slipping on a patch of ice. Tim made a crack about how 'at least he wasn't wearing the panties'. Jason slung a handful of dirty snow at him in response.

"Redesign the suit," Tim recommended.

"I like the casual thing Kon has going," Jason nodded.

Tim's cheekbones turned red. "Maybe not that far, but you could get some pants. Dick and I wear pants. Even Cass wears pants."

"The only person who doesn't wear pants in this little group is Kyle and we like him that way." Johnny was standing by the light pole smiling. His iPod was blaring and his sweater had Beast Boy's smiling face on it.

"I thought we were meeting at the mall?" Tim asked. He was still blushing.

"Kyle is there, but we agreed that you would try to skip out on us, so I came to drag you to your torture…who is your buddy?" Johnny held out a hand, Jason took it and squeezed too hard on purpose.

"I'm Jason, Timmy's other brother."

"Tim has another brother?" Johnny looked genuinely surprised. "Kyle is going to sulk when he finds out that you kept such vital friend information from us. So, what? You live in the attic of their apartment? 'Cause I have never seen you before."

"I live in Gotham." Jason and Johnny were getting along and Tim felt his insides squirm, a warning of impending doom. "Doesn't Dick have a picture of me anywhere?" Jason was looking at Tim, waiting for an answer.

"Uh, in his bathroom?" Tim supplied weakly.

"Geeze, I see how much you assholes care!"

Jason's reaction to Kyle was predictable. He thought he was a girl and Kyle was absolutely flattered. He twirled around once, in the skirt he could only wear outside of school. Then the image was ruined entirely when Kyle beat them all out in a nacho-eating contest.

"I like your friends," Jason commented as they went out patrolling that night.

"Get your own friends, Robin, those two are mine."

"Possessive much, Birdy?"

"By the way, when are you getting out of my town?"

"I could always say the Tower is mine and that the Titans are my friends," Jason pointed out. He tried to punch Tim and missed.

"Then you'd be lying and Robin never lies."

"Yeah. Right now? I'm imagining you as Robin. And what do you mean I'd be lying?"

"The Titans were mine first. I'm just nice enough to share," Nightwing interrupted, over the radio.

"Sharing is caring, Robin."

"Shut the fuck up, you little hypocrite."

"Language," Nightwing chimed.

Disclaimer: Birds and Boys may break my bones but DC always owns them.