Chapter Text
Kon honestly could not deal with this right now.
He wasn’t even supposed to be here in the first place! Robin had just asked for some help with a case he’d been working on in Gotham. And, well, technically he wasn’t even supposed to be in that damned city. ‘No metas in Gotham’, or something like that. It wasn't like Batman enforced any of that as soon as it came to his kids' friends, but still, he felt like it should apply right now.
But hell, Kon had never been able to say no when Robin asked for his help. Maybe it was the fact that he rarely ever did that – there was no one Kon knew who hated needing help as much as Rob did. And still, he asked Kon. How was he supposed to deny that? Even being asked felt like some weird type of confession of infinite trust and… broship? No one judge him for his poor choice of non-words, please and thank you. He really wasn’t feeling very literate right now, alright?
Maybe the absolute adorable-ness of Rob in that moment had also played a really, really small role. And well, he was curious.
What kind of mission would make Robin ask him for help?
And why in the ever living fuck did it involve him pretending to enjoy himself at a very sketchy bar – strip club? He wasn’t fully sure. He didn’t want to know, really – while Tim was fuck knows where?
It had been something about listening in to what was going on in the office or the changing room for the dancers. Kon wasn’t really sure anymore, his brain was kind of…
Preoccupied. With something. Nothing important, really.
Fuck he needed to get out of here. He never wanted to leave again. Whatever, he just needed to… anything. Anything besides what he was doing right now.
Which, to be precise, was staring at the stage like a deer in headlights as his best-fucking-friend emerged on stage. Except this wasn’t Tim, it couldn’t be Tim, because he had long hair. And makeup. Pretty makeup. And –
Oh.
Oh.
He didn’t like this, like, at all. That dress, it was so low cut, he could basically see half of Tim's chest and it was disgusting and that color fit him really well, and Kon just wanted to disappear right there. Sink right into the earth and forget he ever even existed, because honestly he’d rather just forget about himself right now.
This was embarrassing. Did he seriously just think that the dark red of that dress made his eyes shine? Disgusting. He must’ve spent too much time with that girl he was seeing.
Well, that wouldn’t be a problem now anyway since she broke things off two days ago. Honestly it hadn’t really made him as sad as he probably should be, considering that they’d been seeing each other for like, what was it? Three months? That sounded about right.
Kon had at some point just figured that his lack of romantic… affection? Feelings? whatever - was some weird part of his programming. Maybe they just, you know, forgot that? He didn’t particularly miss them either, they just weren’t really there. How could he miss something he didn’t even really know?
Of course, he still tried. Oh, how he’d tried. At this point, half of the female population probably hated him for it. But what was he supposed to do? He might not miss the feeling, but he wanted it desperately. And maybe he just hadn’t found the one yet, you know?
Maybe it was the cute blonde in that café over there, or maybe the girl with short black hair across the street. He had to try. How’d he know otherwise?
Or this was just how everyone felt. They always said that love is a feeling that they can’t describe, and maybe that’s just because it’s not there. Maybe love was just a state of being, something you did if you were in a relationship and slightly-liked the person. Or maybe he was just doing this being-human thing horribly wrong.
Could he ever really be human after how he’d been made?
But what he was feeling right now… wasn’t love. Definitely not. He felt disgusting, he felt desperate, he wanted everything but to be here right now.
This was the only place he wanted to be in from this moment on until the end of time.
And Tim? He had the absolute audacity to grin as he saw Kon stare at him, even winking – or was that just for the audience? Maybe Kon was imagining things. Yeah, right, he had to be. This all wasn’t real, he was in his bed in smallville and he was just having some sort of fucked-up dream.
Rob was the hottest girl he’d ever seen.
Okay, well that wasn’t that wrong was it? He’d dated girls who kind of looked like his best friend before, it was totally normal. And well, this was just him as a girl, right? No big deal. Just another pretty girl.
But the way the dress fit just a bit awkwardly on Tim’s chest because he had pacs instead of the boobs the dress was made for, the exaggerated eyeliner, it was making Kon feel things that he never even thought were real, and he wanted to get so drunk on the feeling that he’d forget about everything by tomorrow morning.
He wanted to get drunk on Tim.
He wanted that dress on the floor and the eyeliner all over his bedsheets.
He wanted to never think any of that again and crawl into a hole until he stopped being so disgusting towards his best friend. He wanted to hide and never go out again.
This wasn’t love. It was just attraction to a girl.
A girl that was his best friend.
A girl that wasn’t really a girl at all.
But it was attraction. And it was so… different. It wasn’t like seeing an objectively pretty girl and asking her out, not like the small sense of accomplishment that pinged through him whenever he kissed a girl.
Or maybe it wasn’t at all? Maybe he was just confusing things.
Right. He was just confused.
That’d explain why he wanted to wrap Tim in his arms and kiss him until his own lips were stained by that deep wine-red lipstick, why he couldn’t stop imagining how Tim's eyes would look with that eyeliner after a heavy make-out session.
Kon hadn’t even really made out with anyone, he must be confused if he was thinking about that now. The neck kisses, the weird hand-on-body touching just made him feel gross, why would he suddenly want that now!?
But still, he wanted to slide his hand along that dress, feel the texture of the fabric and the muscles he knew were underneath. He wanted to hold Tim tight, so tight that those pecs might just be boobs instead.
Because the girl he was seeing right now was everything he’d ever wanted, if she was just a girl instead. And maybe he wouldn’t mind it if she was a little flat chested, as long as the satin would hide that she really wasn’t a girl at all.
At the same time he wanted that dress off, wanted to caress her- his- curves without anything between them, wanted to hold him with his glance until he explored every single curve of his body, touched every scar he’d seen Rob get and memorized the ones that his best friend hadn’t mentioned.
If only he was a girl.
Kon sat there, mesmerized by the sight, almost forgetting to get the intel he was there for in the first place. But how could he when Tim was right there in front of him with long hair that curved his way-too-masculine hips and a dress that showed just enough cleavage so that Kon couldn’t even try to replace Tim's chest with boobs in his imagination.
Only after he went off stage did Kon return to the mission, immediately hearing exactly what they’d been looking for. Great timing.
Or awful timing. Because now, he had to get out of the club and pick up Rob from the back entrance for performers.
It’d be fine, he’d surely be out of that dress and back in his usual hoodie and jeans. Maybe a faint hint of the makeup would remain on his face, that probably wasn’t that quick to wash off-
Kon promptly went outside after getting the text from Tim to pick him up, and oh-
The dress was still very much on.
The only thing that had changed were the shoes (from high heels to sneakers) and the wig, which had been unceremoniously stuffed into Rob's bag. A loose strand was still hanging out, and Kon was getting kind of sad at seeing it, because it didn’t look like that wig would ever be used again.
Did he want to see Tim use it again?
Well, maybe? He’d been a real pretty girl after all. The only girl that Kon had ever wanted to… The only girl that had made him want to turn himself upside down and spin around, that he would do anything for if only she would love him back.
Love him back? No, that implied that he loved her. More like… attraction. Made him want to be attractive to her. Something like that.
And for some reason he still felt that way about Rob now. Must be the dress and the makeup, he was just getting things messed up.
But right now, the thing he really wanted to mess up was himself, he wanted to be ruined by Tim until the wine red of his lipstick colored Kon's very soul and marked him as a sinner for all eternity, a sinner that had gotten closer to heaven than any angel ever could.
He’d give up trying to be good if only it meant that he got the privilege of being Tims for just one day.
He’d never be able to say even a single word about this, not even to himself.
“Uh, Kon? You’re staring” Oh. Yeah, right, he had to think. Think Kon, what were you supposed to do?
Right. This was Rob, his best friend, who’d gone undercover as a drag queen on a mission that Kon was supposed to help with. And he had to fly him home really fast now because this was still Gotham and Tim Drake couldn’t risk being recognised as a drag queen-
He’d already fucked up the fast part, hadn’t he?
Well, sue him, that damn dress had been holding his brain captive for the past hour alright?
Wait. To fly Tim home he’d have to… touch him. Touch the dress. The dress that Rob was wearing. Rob's dress.
This would not go well.
How was he supposed to do it? The usual friendly bridal carry? Well, as friendly as that could be. He could try to just TTK Tim next to him, but with the just slightly smudged lipstick and the still crisp eyeliner-
Yeah no, he wasn’t going to accidentally drop Tim in the middle of the air because he couldn’t focus properly while staring at him still half in drag.
Kon honestly couldn’t even tell if this was an improvement or if it was even worse than before. Because even though the typical short hair and dirty sneakers should bring him back to reality in some capacity, they didn’t turn him off at all. If anything it made Kon want to feel what Tim's hair felt like all of a sudden because it looked so soft in contrast to the more plastic-y wig he’d worn earlier-
Tim was looking at him kind of worried now- Alright Kon, time to stop thinking and start doing. Doing Tim.
No, not that kind of doing. He just had to carry Rob. Somehow.
Without thinking much more about it, Kon simply held on to Tim's waist, wrapping his arms all around him before taking up into the air as fast as he could without risking Tim getting hurt.
Only to for him to realize what he was doing right as they stopped being visible to the people of Gotham that his hands were on Tim's waist, that he was holding him close to his own body and Kon could feel every little thing through the soft fabric of that damned dress-
If he looked down he could probably see right into Tim's cleavage.
Disgusting. He was being disgusting. The way he could feel Tim's back muscles move under his hands as his best friend let out a sigh of exhaustion and leaned against him was disgusting. Him wanting to hold him even tighter and kiss him on the forehead was disgusting.
Everything about this was disgusting, but for some reason, Kon loved it anyway. He felt almost like this was the first time he’d truly been human ever since he broke out of that lab, and he was so scared of being wrong. Maybe this was a defect, a weird Kryptonian thing, anything that made it wrong. But he wanted it to be normal, wanted it to be something that humans could feel as well, because maybe that meant that Tim felt just the same.
It wasn’t an expectation, really, it was more of a senseless feeling of hope, doomed to be destroyed entirely and take Kon down with it.
But Kon still hung onto it as if it was a rope, keeping him from falling off a cliff, because letting go would mean accepting that he had to fall eventually. He could hang on a little longer, right?
If it just meant that for now, he could rest his head on Tim's shoulder and feel his hair brush against his head just slightly, but enough for Kon to tell that it was so infinitely soft. Rob did not have the right to have hair that was just soft like that. The guy used a damn 3in1, for fucks sake.
And still, Kon wanted to inhale the smell and never exhale again just so he could keep the memory of this moment, this feeling forever.
It might be wrong, he might be disgusting. But if disgusting meant feeling this good, maybe he could let himself be for just a moment.
Even if that moment would consume his entire life.
He knew it. He knew that this wasn’t okay, he knew that he would spend years upon years wishing that it wasn’t, and he wanted it anyway.
If Tim would be his doom, Kon would still hold him just the same. Maybe a bit tighter, for if his end would come, he wanted it to be fast and sweet before Tim could turn him away and condemn him to a life of memories and hopeless hopes.
The way back to the manor was tortuous and heavenly, it was everything Kon wanted and everything he wished would never have happened. No words were exchanged, Tim seemed way too tired for that. Although Kon was sure that he’d still stay up until 3am to do the mission report and crack the case.
As Tim usually does.
Maybe they could debrief tomorrow? Kon really had some… stuff to deal with. Mainly why he kept glancing over at Rob, almost like he was trying to sneak a glance at his body. But he wasn’t, he didn’t see Rob like that at all, this was just a confusion.
Would he ever feel like he did today again?
But of course, luck wasn’t on his side. When has it ever been, really? The last time had probably been when he’d met Tim and somehow become friends with him – Kon was still unsure on how he managed to pull that one off, but it was definitely the luckiest he’d ever gotten.
“Are you doing okay? You were acting kind of strange earlier” Tim asked, and even if Kon wanted to be honest about that – which he didn’t – how was he supposed to explain that?
‘Oh yeah I was so mesmerized by you in a dress and makeup that my brain stopped functioning and I’m not sure if that means I’m a creep or in love with you. Or you in a dress. I’d be happy if you could help out!’ probably wasn’t going to cut it.
“Yep. Totally fine. Just got a little distracted, you know the girls there-” oh fuck he couldn’t have made it more unbelievable. How could he even screw up this badly? Usually, when it came to lying to Clark about something it worked great.
But Tim could already read him like an open book even if he was telling a good lie - he was going to clock Kon immediately. Why did he have to add that detail about girls-
“Alright then, Mission report?”
He bought it.
But there was some kind of… disappointment in his expression? Was he angry because Kon was focusing on some girls instead of the Mission? It was probably that, it’d fit Tim really well. After all, this was his case, and Kon had almost screwed it up because-
Because he’d seen Tim in a dress and stopped being super and instead became the most pathetic being on the planet for a moment. And somehow, he wanted it all to happen again and again, until he finally became brave enough to go up to that stage and kiss those lethal lips instead of staring at them like a fool.
At least he hoped that he’d die from that kiss because he couldn’t dare to imagine anything past it. He wanted his life to end right there before his thoughts could corrupt the experience, before he could go home and shame himself for what he’d done. But he wanted that kiss, back then or right now or never at all.
He wanted to be brave enough to do it, but there was no universe in which he could be brave enough to face the consequences.
Kon quickly summarized the info he’d gotten, trying to get through this as fast as possible. While Tim seemed to be kind of uneasy, it might just be because he was really wanting to work on the case and Kon was still there distracting him, so Kon just took that as another reason to get out as fast as he could.
As soon as he was done, he tried to just up and bye but-
Tim was already looking so sad. And they usually hugged as a goodbye. Look, hugging Tim might be the most risky thing for Kon to do right now but- He wasn’t going to leave his best friend hanging just because of some bullshit going on in his brain.
Even if it made his cheeks light up with what felt like the power of three suns and made him almost – only almost, though – reach for Tim's chin as they pulled apart again.
He could’ve done it.
He needed to get out of there as fast as possible. Which, to be fair, was really fast. Yey Superspeed!
The flight was fast, of course. Faster than Kon’s thoughts, thankfully. He didn’t feel like thinking about this right now, particularly not on a flight back from his best friend's house in the middle of the night.
Thankfully, he had recently gotten himself his own apartment in Metropolis so he didn’t have to get questioned by Ma Kent at the end of this. Yeah she might have the best advice he could possibly get, but he’d rather spontaneously combust than have to explain what was going on to anyone.
And still, he found himself in his bed, laying awake because…
Well, it isn't every day that you find out that you might be attracted to your best friend, right? Especially not if that best friend was also a boy.
Kon knew that gay people existed. Hell, he was pretty sure that Tim was some flavour of gay – he’d mentioned liking a boy once, Kon hadn’t paid much mind to it. But still, it felt wrong to possibly be gay.
It was okay when other people did it! He’d never have any issue with that. But he was Superboy, he was supposed to like girls. He’d been made in a lab, surely they intended him to be straight.
And still, it felt so… wrong.
Being gay was okay, as long as it wasn’t Kon who was gay.
Because he was already not really human. Not normal. He couldn’t afford to be gay on top of that – what would people think?
Was this just an error? Maybe he was just confused-
Maybe he was the error. The mistake. After all, his existence was already not really supposed to… be a thing. He wasn’t supposed to exist.
But if it took Tim putting on a dress to make him realize that he might like Tim, then he could still theoretically be straight, right? After all, it was kind of a girl-y thing to do. So he was attracted to girly Tim, not necessarily his guy best friend Tim.
Or maybe he’d been feeling this for longer than he’d known and this was just the final trigger he needed to realize it?
Either way, it was kind of irrelevant.
He wasn’t allowed to be gay. He couldn’t be. And even if, there was no universe in which Tim would ever like him as well.
Because Kon was just that. Kon, Superboy, a defect lab experiment, the loser who looked at his best friend in a dress and started questioning everything he’d ever known about himself.
A nobody.
A nobody who’d never be brave enough to admit that he didn’t like the dress, but the boy who was wearing it.