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 Four: Six

Tim was devastated.

His father just died, and no more than a month later, his best friend... more than a best friend... his boyfriend... died.

It came completely out of nowhere. Some new powerhouse calling himself 'the real Superboy'. Not another clone. As they later found out, he came from an alternate dimension. This 'Superboy-Prime' gave Conner the beating of his life, and ultimately... killed him.

Tim wasn't there. Tim didn't see it. Maybe if Robin had been present, he could have prevented it. He went through a lot of 'maybes' in the weeks immediately following the demi-kryptonian's passing.

'Passing'. He hated that word. It sounded so passive. So peaceful. There was nothing peaceful about the way Conner had died. It had been brutal. Savage. Vicious. Mercilessly beaten to death by his opponent. Conner did not 'pass away', he was killed. And that was fact. No soft phrasing was going to change that. It was shocking, and it was jolting, and in the space of a few short minuets, Tim's world had turned upside down.

He wasn't there. But, somehow, he knew. Before anyone else told him. Before the call went out over the JLA frequency. Before the official press statements had been made. Tim knew.

It was like the day they had first met. ...And yet not.

That day, three years ago, when he'd first met the Superboy...

Conner had stepped out of the zetta-tube looking all pissed off and huffy. Face drawn in a scowl, arms crossed over his chest. Dick told the new Robin about his personal issues with Miss Martian and the Lagoon Boy, Tim had been warned that the Superboy would most likely be in a foul mood when the Robin met him. It had nothing to do with him, Supey was just always in a bad mood after Miss M started dating LB. So, he appeared exactly how Robin was expecting him to.

But the moment the new Robin laid eyes on the man, his whole world did a funny little... tilt.

It was like an odd form of tunnel vision. He was still aware of everything else around him, but only peripherally. Everything else was focused on the demi-kryptonian who'd just stepped out of the zetta-transporter. He was the only thing Tim could see, the only thing his eyes would focus on.

Tall and muscular. Short ebony hair wind-tossed from his day spent with Superman in Metropolis. Shirt wrinkled and scuffed from whatever battle their might have had. The knees of his pants scraped and dirty. His boots caked in... who knew what. He looked a mess! But to Tim, he looked fantastic. And those eyes!

From across the room Tim's own eyes locked on that crystal-blue stare and it was the single most mesmerizing thing he'd ever seen. A light blue, like the summer sky, but with more depth of color near to pupils and an almost luminous glow. Almost as if lit by some internal light. Like some of the samples of kryptonian crystal Bruce kept in his lab. Crystal-blue eyes. And when their eyes locked, Tim was sure he felt something indistinct and ephemeral pass between them.

Tim's palms began to feel sweaty in his gloves, his stomach did little flip-flops, his mouth watered, his throat went dry, and the new Robin was suddenly aware that nobody had said anything in almost three minutes. So, he broke the silence, trying to sound as calm and cool as every bat should sound. "You must be Superboy."

It was such a stupid opening line. He probably thought Tim was an idiot now! Stating the obvious like that. He brought shame to the name of Robin! And it was so out of character for him too! He was usually a cleverer and much more reserved person. He had just been thrown off balance. That was all. He just needed a few seconds to regain his composure. Self-control.

The the Superboy answered, "Tha- ahm. That's what the computer says."

And that was true. That was what the computer said. But the zetta-transporters used body-scans as identification of whoever was traveling -arriving or leaving. Theoretically, you could fool the computer with an operative that had an identical body-type to a member of the Team or League. Superboy was a clone of Superman, but he wasn't the only clone and the other one that they knew of -Match- did have an identical body-type to Superboy's. If Match wasn't completely bat-shit insane (an offense to bats everywhere) then he could easily pose as the demi-kryptonian and infiltrate the base!

Tim was impressed. The way Dick described him, Tim was not expecting to find such intelligence in the Superboy. Knowledge, yes. Cadmus had programed him with everything short of the Library of Congress. But intelligence, that was something that couldn't be taught or programed. You either had it, or you didn't. Tim quickly decided that he liked the new Superboy very much and he could not help the smile that spread over his lips.

"That's very true. You're a lot cleverer than Nightwing lead me to believe."

...

A lot smarter than he was expecting and so much more attractive too!

Damn! It's got to be a crime to shove all that muscle into one body, then top it off with that ungodly handsome face! He was like some modern Adonis! His Superboy.

Training with him was sweet agony.

Between the training in tactics he'd received from Batman and the lessons in fighting stronger opponents from Black Canary, Tim could put his kryptonian to the floor easily. And that was exactly what made training with the man so damn difficult! Tim would have this obscenely handsome specimen pinned between his thighs and then what? Just say, 'I win. Training's over.' and go masturbate to the memory of the feel of him? Yes.

He would pin the Superboy down with a lazy cocky grin that Tim knew he should not have but still could not manage to keep off his face. Lean down low so that their noses were almost brushing and in a husky whisper ask, "Do you submit?"

And, oh god!, thank goodness for his jock. If it weren't for the hard cup meant to protect that most sensitive of organs from injury, Tim was sure the Superboy would have felt his erection. Tim wasn't really sure what the Team's policy was on sexual harassment, Dick hadn't exactly given him a handbook that covered that sort of thing. But he was pretty sure that pinning a sparring partner to the ground and rubbing your stiffy all over them was most definitely 'sexual harassment'.

"Do you have kryptonite?" The Superboy asked in response.

Tim did a quick mental inventory of his belt. Bruce had tired to get him to take a piece when he joined the Team. Just in case. It was always better to have something and not need it, than need it and not have it. But he had refused the glowing green meteorite rock and so said with some confidence, "Not on me."

And the Superboy smiled a playful smile. "Then no."

...

But really, Tim knew he shouldn't be playing with the Superboy like that.

He liked him very much. Superboy was smart and attractive and made the little Robin all kinds of hot and bothered. But... Tim knew the demi-kryptonian was also only five years old. Okay, almost six. He would be six in March which wasn't all that far away. But that didn't change the fact that he was still just a baby! Five years old! When he remembered that, Tim felt sick.

Disgusted with himself, actually.

He knew that Superboy had dated Miss Martian and that their relationship had lasted a long time. But, he also knew that their break-up had been messy. Civil. But messy. He didn't know the particulars, but considering the age discrepancy between them -forty-eight years!- Tim had his theories. The Superboy might look like a man in his late teens, only a couple years older than the little Robin himself, but he was actually just a child. A child couldn't possibly have the experience and emotional maturity to handle an adult relationship. Miss Martian probably pushed him until something broke and they split.

At least, that was Tim's working theory. It was all he could think of, working off of what little information he had to go on.

This theory was supported on day whilst showing after a mission. The sewers of Gotham were no a pretty place and Superboy, Beast Boy and Robin were all eager to get the smell off themselves.

It was by sheer force of will and his rigorous 'mind over matter' training that Tim was able to subdue his erection at seeing the Superboy wet, naked and soapy. Sheer force of will. Thank goodness for insane mentors like Bruce who insist on teaching you how to control every goddamn function of your body! Of course, Bruce probably never intended for Tim to use it to banish a boner in the communal shower.

Of course, other's did not possess this talent of his.

The Superboy for example. His deliciously alluring but frustratingly under-aged kryptonian looked to be having a similar issue to Tim. Though, he hid it with far less success. Body turned mostly away from Gar and the new Robin, face colored slightly in embarrassment. Beast Boy didn't notice. In fact, most people probably would not have noticed that the Superboy was slightly aroused. But Tim was hyper-observant. Even before he began his training with Bruce, things that eluded most people seemed glaringly obvious to him.

He did feel a little guilty that his first thought upon noticing his demi-kryptonian's condition was a stir of excitement that maybe his aroused state was because of him. Tim suddenly found it much more difficult to suppress his own desires. Of course, then Beast Boy had to start a splash fight and that helped to distract him. It also succeeded in annoying the crap out of him.

"Cut it out, Gar!" And he splashed back.

They continued slinging water and soap suds at one another until the Superboy finally snapped at them to stop. That was when the Beast Boy left, commenting how the demi-kryptonian had been irritable ever since Miss Martian began dating Lagoon Boy. That was when Tim was reminded of his theory about the Superboy's age and how it could have related to the end of his relationship with the martian girl. He was basically a child and she was basically a middle-aged woman. It was sick, and he was probably still carrying emotional scars from it. Children so young were not mentally or emotionally equipped to handle adult relationships.

Superboy's irritability was probably the lasting stress of the strain that relationship placed on him. It wasn't M'gann and La'gaan together that made him antsy, it was just M'gann.

"Its not really Miss Martian and Lagoon Boy that have you so bothered, is it?"

...

It was wrong, and Tim knew it.

He shouldn't feel the way he did about the demi-kryptonian. Superboy was only six years old and so just a child. He, on the other hand, was fourteen and quickly climbing into his adulthood. It was sick of him to want the Superboy the way that he did.

But that didn't stop Tim from putting spyware in the demi-kryptonian's bedroom at the new base. Microphones to hear whatever he was saying. Cameras to see whatever he was doing. The feeds fed directly into his personal PDA, no other member of the Team would have access to them. It was his own dirty little secret.

A member of the bat-clan probably could hack into his feeds if they really wanted to. But they'd first need a reason, and Tim was carful not to rouse any suspicions whilst setting up his equipment. He knew what he was doing was wrong (by at least two different ethical standpoints), yet he was doing it anyway.

Perhaps that was his great blunder.

Tim knew any member of the bat-clan could hack his feeds, just as he could hack any other member's feeds. But he never would have expected someone everyone thought to be dead to be able to hack his feeds.

The message appeared while he was editing his footage. Reviewing the tapes from the previous day, cutting long hours of just empty rooms and piecing together the bits of tape that actually had his Superboy in them -with special emphasis on the scenes where he was undressing or masturbating. Tim saved them to a jump drive as MP4 files and watched them on his home computer in the privacy of his bedroom.

The message appeared in a segment of tape he had just begun reviewing. The picture went all static'y just as Superboy was unzipping his pants and that in and of itself was frustrating. But the message that appeared in his kryptonian's place was even more alarming. 'I know what you're doing, and I'm sure he'd like to know too. No pervert will ever steal the Robin mantle.'

At first, Tim suspected it was Dick. Otherwise, why add in the comment about the Robin mantle? The name of 'Robin' didn't matter to Barbara and Bruce would have faced him directly instead of hacking a message into his feeds.

But after separating out the foreign signal from his own and following it back to its parent-mainframe, Tim realized it was not coming from the Batcave, or Dick's apartment in Bludhaven, or Wayne Enterprises, or Barbara's loft in the Clock Tower, or even the police station. No. The signal was tracked back to an internet cafe not far from the Finger River docs. There was no base, safe house, or equipment cache near that area, at least, not one Tim knew about. So, the hacker could not be another member of the bat-clan. That merited some investigation.

Tim had been expecting blackmail.

He had not been expecting a trap. He had also not been expecting to see the dead risen from the grave!

Jason Todd.

The one who was Robin before him. The one who had died before he ever became a member of the bat-clan, back when he was still just a crazy Batman fanboy and stalker. Died at the hands of the Joker. Beaten to death with a crowbar. His body had been interred in the Wayne family's private cemetery. Tim saw the headstone. He had seen pictures of the still fresh body from the case file. He was dead! Jason was supposed to be dead! The dead did not come back to life. How was one supposed to combat a zombie or a vengeful spirit?

He wasn't proud of it, but Tim had to admit that he panicked. When faced with a man risen from the dead and full of malice for the one who had stolen his place and title and was perverting that title with his peeping and stalking... Tim was filled with an alarming amount of terror... and he made rookie mistakes.

When he finally came to, Robin was tied to a chair in a warehouse he did not recognize. But from the looks of it, the place had been abandoned for several years. Outside he could hear the water-traffic of the Finger River, so Tim knew they couldn't have moved to far from where they had been. Maybe just a few blocks down.

The first thing Jason did upon noticing Tim was awake was smack smack him hard across the face, raising a bright red welt on his cheek. Tim glared up at him, wondering what happens next. There must have been something in that glance that the former Robin didn't like, because he smacked Tim a second time, raising an identical red mark on the other cheek.

Deciding he'd had enough of that, Tim asked, "Was there something you wanted to say? Or did you just want to smack me around like a prissy bitch on her period?"

"That's cute, coming from a sicko like you." Jason growled. "I can't believe Bruce would let you dirty the Robin name."

"Oh, please." Tim scoffed, feeling in his gloves for the tiny tools that were concealed in the fingers. Damn. Jason must have removed them while he was out. "Its not like I haven't done anything different than what Dick does with all of his girlfriends." A brief pause for thought. "Unless, its the fact that Superboy and I are both men that you take issue with. In all my research, I never would have pegged you for a homophobe, Jay."

"Don't call me that!" Snapped the former Boy Wonder. "I don't know you! We're not friends. You don't get to call me that!"

His belt was gone too. Of course Jason would know what to remove and where on his uniform everything would be. That meant that the only tools he had at his disposal were his brains and his mouth. Keep him talking and think of a plan, or else, keep him distracted and wait for Bruce, or Barbara, or Dick to find them. "What do you want, Mr. Todd? Why am I here?"

"You're here, because when I clawed and climbed my way out of that pit and made my way back to Gotham, I find that my death has not been avenged, nothing in Gotham has changed, to gangs still run the streets, the mob still owns the docs, the cops are hopeless and worst of all... I've been replaced by a fucking pervert fag!"

Charming language. Really nice.

"So that's it then? The town you grew-up in is exactly the same as its always been, Bruce didn't kill the man who killed you, and your job has been taken by someone else." Tim summarized. "Well, Gotham's always gonna be the same, so suck it up buttercup. Bruce doesn't kill and you know that. He's never gonna break that rule for any of us. He can't, otherwise he becomes just as bad as the filth he fights. As for me replacing you,-" Tim shrugged "-Batman needed a Robin. He and Nightwing were more or less estranged. I saw a hole and I filled it."

Jason just glared at him reproachfully.

"I still don't see what any of that has to do with my interest in Superboy." Continued the new Robin. "Like I said, its no different than Dick spying on Bette, Zatanna, Helena, and Babs. Or Bruce spying on Selina, Talia, Viki, or Clark. What I do in my free time and with the technology at my disposal is my business."

He would have said more, but just then, there was a noise on the roof. Like heavy metal bending and buckling under extreme pressure. The roof access door being wrenched open. No member of the bat-clan could do that. No member of the bat-clan would ever make so much noise either. That meant that it wasn't Dick, Babs, or Bruce. It also had to be someone strong. Tim knew Clark would have been a more logical deduction, but for some reason, he knew it was Superboy instead. He didn't know how he knew, but Tim was sure that it was his kryptonian coming to his rescue. It was a feeling similar to what passed between them at their first meeting. Indistinct and ephemeral.

Jason jumped at the sound, snatching up a red helmet that covered his whole head and face.

...

As happy as Tim was that it was his Superboy that came to his rescue -unnecessarily, seeing as how Bruce, Babs, and Dick showed up seconds after- he needed to know what the demi-kryptonian had heard. Super-hearing was among his abilities and Tim needed to know if his kryptonian now knew about his spying. Had he been found out? Did the Superboy now hate him? Think he was a pervert like Jason did? If he did, it didn't show in his behavior towards the new Robin.

It took Tim several weeks to actually work-up the courage to confront him, however.

The little Robin cornered his Superboy in one of the Tower's corridors. Pinned him to a wall, actually, and that felt nice. Hard kryptonian body, all muscle and heat, pressed between himself and a flat surface. Tim liked it very much. But he wasn't there to cop a feel, or get off on rubbing up against his crush. He had an objective to achieve. So he leaned in close and muttered a soft, "Come with me."

Tim lead them into an empty room and locked the door behind them. Damn it all to heck, if only Superboy was a bit older, this scenario could head in a completely different direction. A locked room, all alone, and Superboy -thus far- didn't seem to mind letting Tim push him around. But, no. That's what fantasies were for. That was not what this meeting was for.

"I appreciate your ill-conceived rescue attempt." He began, trying very hard to stay on point and not allow himself to be distracted by those luminous crystal eyes, or those strong muscular forearms. God! Tim just wished his Superboy would put those arms around him and crush him against his manly chest. "But I need to know how much you heard."

"What do you mean?" And the Superboy looked so cute. Crystal eyes getting big with confusion, lips parted slightly. Oh, Tim just wanted to stand up on his tip-toes and kiss that mouth! Would those lips be soft like a normal person's? Or hard like steel? Tim wanted to find out. He wanted to find out so badly!

But that wasn't why he had dragged the demi-kryptonian into this room. He needed to know if his Superboy now knew his dirty little secret, and if he didn't know, Tim had to phrase the question in a way that wouldn't clue him in or make him suspicious. "That guy..." Explained the little bird, "He was the Robin before me. Don't ask me how he's still alive, its a long story. But he talked a lot before we heard your clumsy entrance. I need to know how much of Batman's secrets you know now."

That's right. Make it about Batman. Distance yourself from the issue so that he won't suspect.

Of course, if he did already know, and there was no perceivable change in his behavior, then could Tim assume that he wanted the new Robin watching him. Or was that just wishful thinking? The justification of a predator? Superboy was only six years old, how much did he eve understand of what he might have heard? He might have heard everything and understood nothing. Or he might have heard everything and understood everything, and liked Tim's attention. Wanted it. Okay, that was definitely a predators justification.

"I wasn't paying attention. I still only know what I knew about Batman when Cadmus programed me. Nothing new."

"Nothing new..." Tim repeated. And he was equal parts relived and disappointed by that. Relieved because it meant his dirty little secret was safe. But disappointed because his neat little fantasy of the demi-kryptonian wanting him to watch him was proved untrue.

"Although..." Continued his Superboy, "Before I showed myself, and he still thought I was Batman, he called me 'Bruce'. Who's Bruce?"

And then Tim got an insane idea. Manipulate things so that Superboy could discover his civilian identity. That way, he and his kryptonian could become close in both their lives. Tim would have even more access to him and he wouldn't be directly breaking Bruce's gag-order of identities. He and Superboy could hang out outside of costume, at each other's homes. Oh god! Tim could see his bedroom, his real bedroom, not just his room at the base. Maybe a few cameras around the farm to, get shots of him all hot and sweaty from the work... Thank goodness for his jock, he didn't know how he would have hidden his erection without it.

"I told you when we first met that you're a lot cleverer than Nightwing made you out to be. Prove me right."

...

Sadly, Tim was disappointed in his Superboy's abilities. The demi-kryptonian was able to deduce Batman's, Nightwing's and the second Robin's identities. But that was easy stuff. One you discovered one of them, the rest fell like dominoes. Barbara and himself, on the other hand were more difficult because they were not directly connected to Bruce Wayne. Tim was disappointed that his kryptonian didn't do any further digging. Disappointed and a little frustrated.

"I expected more from you." He said in all honesty. He might be a voyeristic little predator in training, but he had standards. Brainy was his idea of sexy. Of course, sexy was also his idea of sexy. So, his Superboy had lost brainy points. He still had more than enough sexy points to make up for it. "Tim." He told him. "My name is Tim. But you didn't hear it from me. You figured it out on your own. You got that?"

"Tim..." It sounded like his Superboy was just testing the name on him tongue, seeing how it felt, tasting it. Tim would love to be tasted by his demi-kryptonian. Of course, by 'tasted' he of course meant- well, never mind about that. "So, Tim, when's your birthday?"

That was a random question. He would have expected his Superboy to ask why instead. "July. I turn fifteen in July." Then, "Listen, I already know your real name -have known for a while. But... I'd like your permission to call you by it. May I?"

It would certainly make masturbation all the sweeter if he could moan out 'Conner...' or 'Kon...' at his climax rather than 'Superboy...'.

His demi-kryptonian smiled. "Nothing would make me happier."

Hearing that made Tim happier than being able to set up more spyware all over his private home did.

...

As far as the public was concerned, the Superboy was laid to rest in the Valhala Cemetery in Metropolis, beneath a statue commissioned by Lex Luthor. A holographic memorial of the demi-kryptonian was erected in the main entrance hall of the Tower, right alongside all their other fallen comrades. But his remains, his real remains, not what was buried in Valhala Cemetery, were interred in the Kent family plot in Smallville.

The service was small. Clark said a few words. Martha Kent cried. Jonathan said far more words than Clark did. Lois was grim-faced as she stood by her husband. Tim hung back from the family. He waited until they were gone to say his goodbyes.

It wasn't fair. It had taken them both three years to get over their respective issues with the relationship and then, when they finally got together...

...This happened. It wasn't fair.

...