Disclaimer: I do not own either Young Justice or its related characters. Such are the property of DC Comics, Warner Bros. Entertainment and Cartoon Network. I'm just borrowing them for some non-profit entertainment.
Yearning
Chapter Two: Fifteen
Tim turned fifteen in July.
His hair got longer and moppyer, he got a few inches taller, and that adorable crack in his voice softened out a bit, coming closer to the voice he'd have when he reached his full manhood. It sometimes made it difficult for Conner to concentrate on what he was actually saying. The demi-kryptonian would be mesmerized by the sound of that maturing voice, the way those soft lips moved as they formed words, and he wouldn't notice the words themselves, just that his Robin was speaking and how tantalizing the sound was.
Showering after missions became all the more difficult. Tim's shoulders got broader, and while he had always been muscular for his age, his muscles became more... developed. The wide shoulders and narrow hips gave his torso a more 'arrow' shape. An arrow pointing strait down to... Yep! Showering with the rest of the guys on the Team had to stop. Right now. Before someone finally noticed.
Tim was growing up. With each passing day he grew closer and closer to proper male adulthood and with each passing day, Conner found himself more and more attracted to the boy -to the man.
Fifteen was an alright age. But it was still just a hair's breadth to short of the age of legal consent.
In Rhode Island, where the Cave used to be, the age of consent was sixteen. That was nice. Conner could wait for Tim to turn sixteen. It was only one more year after all. But they weren't in Rhode Island anymore. Now the Team's main base was a tower built on an island just off the coast of California, and in California the age of consent was eighteen. Conner was sure he'd go stir-crazy if he had to wait three years instead of just one.
Maybe just stick with sixteen?
After all, he and M'gann got together at sixteen.
Well... Okay, so that wasn't exactly true. He was less than a year, only about four or five months old. She had been forty-eight. But physically, they had both been sixteen. Physically, Conner was still sixteen. So, sixteen was a good age to wait for Tim to reach. Nightwing, and more importantly, Batman might approve of that. Even if they didn't approve, at least Conner wouldn't feel so... icky about it.
And, it had been long enough since his break-up with M'gann to be considered healthy to be moving on. So, he didn't have to worry about that either. After Tim reached an acceptable age, the only thing that could hold them back was the little matter of them both being male.
Conner had already realized and come to terms with the fact that he was, in fact, attracted to the other boy. But then there was the question of whether or not Tim would return his advances. Most people fell somewhere in the middle of the sexuality spectrum, but homosexuality still wasn't exactly the 'norm'. And then, after that, there was still the question of everyone else in their lives. Friends and family.
Pretend, for sake of the argument, Tim returned his affections. Would Batman be okay with his protege dating another man? Would Clark be okay with his clone dating another man? (Clark was from Kansas, after all.) Would either of their mentors object to the point of threatening to disown them if they insisted on pursuing the relationship?
But that fear was still a year away.
Right now, Tim was still only fifteen. So, for now, Conner would wait.
...
They started hanging out together a lot more after the name exchange.
Well, it wasn't so much an 'exchange' seeing as how Tim had known his name, all of his names, since day one. So, the name 'sharing' then. Whatever they ended-up calling it didn't matter. Since then they began hanging out more and more socially. Playing X-Box at the base. Meeting up in Gotham in their civilian personas. Summer barbecues at the farm... Just generally hanging out and having a good time together.
Friends stuff.
Tim's dad and his step-mother were very happy to finally meet one of Tim's friends from his 'youth group'. Conner was very proud of himself and his self-control for not collapsing into a pile of giggles and snorts at the dinner table. Well, a youth group would certainly explain why Tim spent so much time away from home after school and on weekends, and it might explain some of his less severe injuries like sprained wrists and twisted ankles. But what about that time he'd been shot? True, it was just a grazing shot against his lower abdomen, but he was in pain for weeks, his movements hindered. Did they really believe that was a normal 'youth group' injury?
Then again, this was Gotham.
Gun shot wounds probably were normal for Gotham youth groups. Hell, they were probably normal for any Gotham group.
Ma and Pa were also very glad to see members of the Team visiting the farm again.
Once there was a time when the whole Team would come over in the summer for barbecues. Or just before Fall for the Harvest Festival -the biggest event in Smallville short of Christmas. But then the second Robin died, Wally and Artemis retired, Tula died, Kaldur went rouge (but did actually go rouge), and Zatanna and Raquel joined the League. The old members left or pasted away and the new members didn't know the Kents or weren't interested in quaint country hoop-las. M'gann still came over back when they were still together and sometimes they'd bring Gar with them. But after he broke-up with her, members of the Team stopped coming to the farm all together.
Tim kept his sunglasses on the whole time he was at the farm. Even after dark. Even indoors. Ma and Pa didn't mind, they found it a little funny. They shared little anecdotes about when Clark started bringing Batman to the farm, he kept his shades on all the time too. Tim laughed at the fact that Clark had always known Bruce's identity and in the six years Conner had known him, they had never shared.
"'Cours he ain't gonna tell." Pa said. "It ain't Clark's secret to share. Bruce placed great trust in my boy by sharing who he is and in the business you boys are in, trust is something y'all can't live without."
Tim and Conner shared a significant look. That was true.
"Ya know," Ma began, "you two kinda remind me of younger versions of them. A bit. Not completely, mind."
Conner wasn't quite sure how he felt about that. On the one hand, Clark and Bruce, Superman and Batman were reputed to be the 'World's Finest Partners'. It was a complement to be sure. But... Conner didn't want to be Tim partner -at least, not his platonic partner, and Clark and Bruce were definitely platonic. Clark had Lois and Bruce had... his Mission? That wasn't the point.
The point was, Conner wanted Tim as a very non-platonic partner.
...
As per Batman's no metas rule, Superboy was not allowed to operate inside of Gotham city limits.
Of course, that didn't mean he actually followed that ban.
In his first year working on the Team, they had all stopped a super-powered robot right in the middle of the Gotham Academy gymnasium. That had been the whole Team, which included four metas. So, while the Dark Knight did have that little rule of his, Conner viewed it as more of a guideline, really.
So, when the demi-kryptonian was flying in to return a book to Tim -a book that he had not read- he couldn't help but stop a couple of muggings, one car chase, and three small-time burglaries. They were small little-nothing crimes -when compared to what he was used to dealing with- but they were enough to draw attention. So, by the time the roof of the Drake's apartment building was in view the Superboy was surprised to find his little bird standing on the edge waiting for him, a reprimanding frown on his face. The whited-out eyes of his domino mask drawn in a dark scowl.
"Hey." He said as cheerfully as he could when he came down from his final jump. The Superboy gave the young Robin the best easy-going smile he possibly could while secretly fearing that Tim somehow already knew he was returning his book without it ever being read.
"Hey." Tim replied flatly, without infraction. Oh. He must be mad.
"Superboy, do you know where you are?"
"Uh, yeah." He nodded.
"And do you know what you were doing here?"
And then it hit him. Right. Batman's ban on meta-heroes using their powers in his town. He might view it as a guideline because of the incident with the Amazo robot six years ago, but recently, the Dark Knight had been cracking down harder on those that broke said rule. ...And their friends. Just last week, Dick was complaining to the Team how Batman had given him a nasty chewing-out because Wally had visited one time when he was in Gotham instead of Bludhaven and -Oh!
"And do you know who takes the heat when you won't sit still long enough for Batman to get at you?" Tim paused only long enough for dramatic effect, but not nearly long enough for the Superboy to actually answer. "The reason you're coming to town. That's who."
"Sorry." Conner said. And he was. He didn't like the idea of putting his Robin at odds with his mentor. "But I'll make it up to you. I promise."
...
Prior to what later became known as the 'Return Book Debacle', Tim and Conner had planned to meet-up for the premier of the latest World's Finest movie. (Tim thought they were hilarious. A blond Batman! It was so difficult to keep his laughter quiet.) But after the Return Book Debacle, that date -ahem, outing- was canceled. That left Conner at home with Ma and Pa, and the latest Smallville gossip.
"So, I heard tell today that Sheriff Parker's boy came out to his Pa that he was sly."
It the demi-kryptonian a moment to two to translate the country slang in the statement, but when he did, he froze. Fork hovering over his plate. Ears perked. Waiting to hear Pa's, or maybe Ma's opinion in the Sheriff's apparently gay son.
"Oh, I had a feelin'." Ma smiled behind her tea cup. "You'd always seem him in the fabric section of the general store helping his Ma match colors for her sewing. I ain't never seen a boy who knew so much about matching pinks."
Pa suppressed a snort behind his hand.
Conner continued to listen. Eyes focused on his plate, not daring to look up and make eye-contact with either of them, yet hanging on their every word.
"Well, poor Sam didn't have an inkling." Pa continued. "Story goes, he was so mad, he kicked the boy right outta the house then and there."
Conner nearly bent his fork. It was only by sheer force of will that the metal didn't buckle and contort in his hand. With forced casualness, he set his fork down next to his plate and asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as he possibly could, "What would you have done?"
They looked at him curiously for a moment. Not following.
So, the demi-kryptonian elaborated. "If, say... Clark, for example, came home one day and said he was gay. What would you do?"
That's right. Make Clark the example, not yourself. Distance yourself from the subject in case they react badly.
"Well, now... That does put things in perspective. Don't it." Pa leaned back in his chair thinking.
"Well, I know what I'd do!" Ma did not even hesitate. "I'd ask him who the lucky man was that managed to charm him away from Lois and when he planned to bring him by so I can decided if he's worthy of having my son."
Oh, Ma. How Conner loved you!
"Hm." Pa nodded. "Welp, we've dealt with far stranger things over the years raising that boy. Compared to all that, if he brings home a John instead of a Jane, it don' matter."
Conner could kiss them. But he didn't. He restrained himself and sat content in the knowledge that when Tim turned sixteen, and if he accepted Conner's feelings, Ma and Pa at least would support them. Clark too, probably.
If Ma and Pa each glanced at the demi-kryptonian before sharing a significant glance between them, Conner did not notice.
So then, they just had to worry about the disapproval on Tim's end. Batman, Nightwing... Tim parents? Eh, maybe them too.
Of course, after the Return Book Debacle, Conner still had to make-up with him before anything could happen.
...
Conner did not take the zetta-tube into Gotham.
He waited at the base. He showed-up two, almost three hours early, in fact. They would have to cross paths eventually.
He held one of Ma's pies in his hands. Fresh out of the oven. Still warm. Wrapped in foil to seal in the heat. Ma's pies were the best on the planet. He should know, he and Clark had both tested it. If this didn't say 'I'm sorry I got you in trouble with your mentor.' and charm Tim into forgiving him, then nothing would. He might as well just give up.
Tim was carrying what looked like a pastry box of his own when he zetta'd into the base.
They both paused, Tim looking startled. "Oh! You're here! I didn't think you'd be here so early."
Conner followed his little bird in confusion as he dashed to the kitchen to set his pastry box down on the counter. When the Robin turned back to face him, the demi-kryptonian barely managed to get out, "Tim, I'm sorry about-" Before he found himself being pushed out of the kitchen.
"You weren't supposed to get here so early! Nightwing told you five o' clock. Its three fifteen! Make yourself scarce!"
"But I-" Damn, it was hard to get a word in sometimes. He liked his Robin very much, but sometimes the infuriating little bird was impossible to deal with. "Tim, I'm trying to apologize to you!"
His little bird paused. Looked confused. Cocked his head to the side. "For what? Oh! Breaking Batman's no metas rule. You can make it up to me later. Now get out. Go! Go save a kitten from a tree, or whatever it is you kryptonians do to kill time."
Usually, whenever Conner had some time to kill alone, he usually spent it masturbating.
So, when Tim randomly and abruptly kicked him out of the kitchen, the Superboy went strait to his room at the Tower. After seven years, he had finally graduated out of living in a closet and felt comfortable enough to sleep laying down in a real bed in a real room with space. And that was exactly what he did. He didn't sleep, mind you. Oh no.
Conner stripped off his combat boots, pants, and underwear. Laid down on his bed and thought about Tim.
About that moppy hair that fell over his forehead, those high cheek bones and that perfect mouth with its soft lips. Tim had such a pretty mouth. And those broad shoulders and narrow hips, making an almost arrow shape pointing down to that most intimate of organs. Damn it! Why was he only fifteen!? It was so not fair!
Fist gripping himself tightly, Conner had to bite his bottom lip to keep from groaning out Tim's name. Although Dick assured him there were no security feeds in the bedrooms, he was still a bat and you could only trust half the things he says. Every other wall in the Tower had eyes and ears. Why should the bedrooms be any different just because people changed, and slept, and had sex, and masturbated in them? Everyone on the Team has already seen everyone else on the Team naked at least once. What's a little voyerism between comrades?
But Conner still wasn't ready for anyone else to know of his crush. The first person to know should be Tim himself. So, he bit his lip. Shoved his knuckles in his mouth. Bit down on anything that wouldn't be destroyed by his teeth, to keep from moaning as gasping Tim name when he climaxed.
When it was over, enough time had passed that Conner felt it was safe to venture outside his room once again. He pulled his underwear back up and his pants back on. Laced up his boots and stepped out of his room.
The rest of the Tower was uncommonly quiet. That did not bode well. Usually, when the base was this quiet it meant one of two things, they had been infiltrated and the rest of the Team had already been neutralized, or, one of the bats was planning something devious. The way Tim had reprimanded him for being on base so early and sent him away seemed to support the latter. Damn. He hoped Nightwing wasn't planning another 'surprise drill'. The first (and thus far, only) one had not gone well.
Keeping his ears piqued for any sound that could indicate what in the world was going on, Conner went in search for his little bird.
The first place he checked was the last place he'd seen Tim. The kitchen. But he wasn't there. There was, however, evidence that he'd been there. Frosting smeared on the counter, plates missing from the cupboards, forks missing from the drawers, cups, napkins, and a cake knife. The apple pie he'd brought for Tim was found in the refrigerator, one small piece missing from it. But there was no Tim.
Conner exited the kitchen, sure now that this was some sort of bat-prank. It had something to do with the pastry-box Tim had carried in with him. But aside from that, Conner didn't know what it was. He was not as great a detective as his little bird, or the rest of the bat-clan for that matter.
The next place he checked was Mess. This thing Tim (and possibly the other bats) was planning had something to do with food, so the next logical conclusion was that they could be found in the mess hall. But no. It, like the kitchen, was completely empty. However, unlike the kitchen, there didn't seem to be any signs that his little bird had passed through here. That left the demi-kryptonian perplexed.
He wondered the eerily quiet halls a bit more before Conner decided it was time to be worried.
The Superboy ran through all the possibilities in him mind. Bat-prank gone wrong. Everyone was called for a mission and he missed the briefing. Zetta transporter mishap. Team accidentally transported to alternate time. Team accidentally transported to alternate dimension. Stephanie Meyer wrote a new novel and everyone dropped dead!
Then, something red and white and fast all over wizzed past him, skidded to a halt, doubled back, then stopped in front of him.
"Where have you been!?" Demanded the Impulse impatiently. "They're all waiting for you and Robin thinks you stood him up!"
"Wha-?" The Superboy didn't even have time to get his question out before he was being dragged down the corridor by the time-displaced speedster.
It wasn't yet spring, but the way the weather was, you wouldn't know it. Outside the run was shining and the sky was clear. There was a cold breeze coming in from the sea, but then that was to be expected on their little off-shore island. Those gathered outside in the Tower's courtyard only needed light jackets.
Conner stumbled at the sudden deceleration and fell flat on his face in the least dignified way possible.
"I found him!" Bart announced proudly.
The already embarrassed Superboy climbed to his feet, trying to avoid eye-contact with everyone there and dusting off his everything. "What's going on, guys?"
"Really?" He heard Tim's voice ask and Conner looked up to see him in civies, his sunglasses in place over his eyes, standing behind what looked suspiciously like... a birthday cake? "You mean you haven't already figured it out? Come on, clone boy, I used to think you were smart."
Oh crap! Had he forgotten someone's birthday!? Not cool. Let's see... Bart, Tim, Dick, Wally, Cassie, Karen, Mal... nope. M'gann, La'gaan, Gar, Jaime, Rae... no... Barbara wasn't here. Kory, Victor, Virgil? Not theirs either... Crap. He was gonna have to ask. Damn it! "So... what are we celebrating?"
Some people groaned. Others laughed. Dick collected twenty dollars from Wally. Then it hit him. Right.
March twenty-first.
"Oh." He said, finally recognizing the significance of the seven candles on the cake. Everyone else on the Team was in the double digets. "Right. Thanks everyone."
"Thank Robin." Nightwing jabbed a thumb at Tim. "He's the one that set all this up."
The slight coloring of the little bird's cheeks was so adorable. Conner wanted to pull him out from behind that table and kiss that blush until it turned a deeper red. But he didn't. He managed to restrain himself.
"I just thought we should start celebrating your creation day again." Explained his little Robin, looking self conscious. "So, I just threw something together. Ya know, like how Miss Martian used to do for you."
Like how M'gann used to do for him. Oh, Tim...
...