Archive of Our Own ^beta

“I’m hungry.” Kon whines.

He isn’t actually hungry. He just likes the way Tim sighs and glares at him like Kon personally ruined his life. For Kon, that’s a win.

He smirks, leaning against the edge of the rooftop. “Why can’t we just jump in and beat them up?”

Tim raises a brow. Just one. Weaponized disappointment. “You want to jump into the middle of one of the biggest arms trafficking rings on the planet with no plan?”

They’re in Singapore, tracking an illegal weapons route slipping quietly into the U.S. The web turned out to be way bigger than expected. International. Messy. Important. Instead of calling the League for backup, Young Justice decided this was their chance to prove they weren’t kids playing hero anymore.

Sadly, Kon is currently stuck with the team’s self-appointed buzzkill and alleged leader.

“Yeah.” Kon says brightly. “I could totally beat them up. I’m bulletproof.” He leans closer, grinning. The ‘unlike you’ is basically audible all across the country.

Tim doesn’t even blink. “You aren’t bulletproof. Your Tactile Telekinesis stops bullets from penetrating, but you can still be harmed by them.”

“Don’t ‘Um Actually’ me about my own powers!!” Kon scoffs, poking Tim in the chest. “I know more about them than you.”

Tim looks at him like he does not believe that for a single second.

Which is deeply offensive.

Kon squints, wounded on a spiritual level. “Wow. The audacity. You get shot once and suddenly you’re not bulletproof anymore.”

“You complained about it for an entire week.” Tim says, not even looking at him. “I don’t want to hear you whine about it again.”

Kon grins, all teeth. “Aww. And here I thought you liked my whining, baby.”

Tim finally looks at him, smirking. “So you admit you’re a crybaby who couldn’t take a bullet?”

Kon opens his mouth. Closes it. Points accusingly. “No. You’re twisting my words. Also, that was different. Those were surprise bullets. If they hadn’t been surprise bullets, I would’ve totally been bulletproof.”

Tim pinches the bridge of his nose, already regretting every life choice that led him to this rooftop. “Bullets don’t do different damage based on vibes, Superboy.”

Kon crosses his arms, absolutely not pouting. “Cissie and Cassie are having all the fun. Why couldn’t we switch places?”

Tim starts counting on his fingers. “First, I need to observe the operation to predict their next move. Second, Arrowette and Wonder Girl have more infiltration experience. Third, and most important, you’re an impatient little shit.”

Kon huffs. “I am not.”

Tim gives him a look. The kind that ends arguments. “You are. And use our aliases.”

Kon ignores that entirely. “Bart is with them.”

Tim crosses his arms, tilting his head. “He isn’t. Were you listening to the plan? Bart’s checking the perimeter for additional hideouts.”

Kon groans. “What crawled up your ass and died there?”

Tim finally stops pretending to be the mature one between the two of them and pettily replies. “This is why you got shot. I hope that you get a surprise bullet again”

“Fuck you.” Kon snarls. “You condescending piece of shit.”

“I am not.” Tim yells.

“Yes, you are.” Kon yells right back.

“At least I’m not all brawn, no brains.”

Kon scowls. “You really are such a-”

A raindrop hits his nose.

Then another.

Then the sky opens up.

The rain pours down in sheets, drenching the rooftop. Kon doesn’t even flinch. His TTK hums to life, the water sliding harmlessly around him.

Tim, meanwhile, is soaked in seconds. His hair sticks to his face, his cape clings to him, and he looks like a deeply offended wet rat.

He glares at Kon.

Kon grins.

Tim exhales, tugging his cape up like it might do something to protect him from the waterfall like downpour. “Congratulations. You yelled so much you offended the weather.”

Kon doesn’t listen. He can’t, really. A raindrop slides down Tim’s jaw, tracing the line of his throat before disappearing beneath his collar. The rain soaks his suit, fabric clinging in a way that makes Kon’s brain short circuit for half a second.

Tim shivers.

Kon snorts. “What, can’t handle a little cold?”

“Not all of us have TTK we can abuse into committing crimes against physics.” Tim snaps, glaring at him.

Kon puffs up immediately. “See, this is why I should be the leader. Strongest. Most powerful.”

Tim deadpans, water dripping from his hair. “I pray daily for the moment your dick falls off for power misuse.”

Kon stares at him, genuinely scandalized. “I- You- How dare you?!”

Tim ignores him, already turning back to the operation below like Kon’s outrage is background noise. Kon huffs, shuts up, and absolutely does not stare at the way Tim’s wet hair curls against his face.

The silence lasts exactly three seconds.

Tim sneezes.

Kon grins. “Weak.”

Tim opens his mouth to fire back, but sneezes again. Then again. Then again.

Kon frowns. Not worried. Definitely not worried. He reaches out anyway, pulling Tim closer so he slips inside the edge of Kon’s TTK barrier.

“Weakass.” He mutters.

Tim glances at him, lips twitching. “A hug? Really?”

“This is not a hug.” Kon says immediately. “I have to touch you to pull you into the barrier. Also body heat helps with the cold. Or whatever.”

He avoids Tim’s eyes.

Which is a problem, because when he finally looks back, Tim is already watching him. Rain specked lashes, sharp smile, stupidly pretty eyes.

Kon looks away faster. He hates how pretty Tim is.

Tim hums and slides his arms around Kon’s neck, settling in like he belongs there. “This seems like a hug.”

Kon’s arms betray him instantly, wrapping around Tim’s waist, hands resting at his lower back. Solid. Protective. Definitely not a hug. “It’s not. Why do you want it to be a hug so bad?”

Tim snorts softly. “Why are you so defensive about calling it one?” He rolls his eyes, then sighs, content, resting his head against Kon’s chest.

Kon freezes.

He hopes to god Tim can’t hear his heartbeat, loud and stupid and absolutely giving him away. That is, if there’s anything to give away at all.

Kon hums and buries his face in Tim’s hair. “Shut up. You want a hug so bad it’s embarrassing.”

Tim laughs softly, the sound muffled against Kon’s chest, his shoulders shaking a little in Kon’s hold.

Kon hates how endearing that is.

He hates the way Tim’s wet suit is soaking into his own clothes. Hates how Tim’s cold hands curl at his back and tug him closer like it’s instinct. Hates the faint trace of expensive cologne, clean and wrong for a rainy rooftop. Hates how the slick fabric lets his hands feel too much of Tim’s lower back.

Mostly, he hates how none of it makes him want to let go.

“Maybe I do.” Tim says, looking up at him, eyes sharp and daring. “What about it?”

Kon smirks, defaulting to offense like a shield. “Touch starved.”

Tim hums. Somehow their faces are suddenly too close. Kon can feel Tim’s breath, warm and steady, mixing with his own. The world narrows down to that space between them.

Then the communicator rings.

Tim pulls back immediately, and Kon misses the cold hands gripping him before he can stop himself.

“This is Robin.” Tim says, already all business. “What is it?”

Cassie’s voice crackles through. “Rain gave us an opening. It left gaps in their operation. We can take them down.”

“Good.” Tim replies. “Superboy and I are heading in. Impulse found anything else?”

Cissie answers this time. “Nope. Just the one hideout.”

Tim nods. “Perfect.”

The call cuts. Tim looks at Kon. “You heard them. Let’s go.”

He turns and walks away like nothing just happened.

Everything moved too fast. Kon stares at his hands, phantom weight still there, still warm, like Tim never really left them. Then he looks up at Tim’s retreating back.

He hates how he’s the only one still stuck in that moment.

It wasn’t a hug.

But god, he wishes it had been.

And he hates that thought most of all.