Title: A helping hand Fandom: DCU Series: Follows The Talk and will be context-free if you haven't read that. Summary: Superman's floating there doing the "living embodiment of All-American values" thing like he's never ever stuck his fingers up his clone's ass. Pairing: Kon/Clark, Kon/Tim, Kon/Cassie Dedication: With those pairings, who other than Zee would want this? Warning: Content some readers may find disturbing. Adult. Disclaimer: I own none of these people, for which Kon is grateful. I still don't like Kon. Love to: Cccarioca, Betty, Zee, and Ny who sacrificed valuable braincells by reading this effort. It's sad, but the weirder the thing is I'm writing, the more immoral support I need. It takes a while for Kon to get the balls to talk to Superman again. A while being about two days, and he wonders if there's a word for this condition, or if Clark would even know that. Maybe Kara would. He's totally not going to ask Kara anything about it. This probably means Brainiac knows he's weak right now, too. So he should warn the Titans, and that's going to happen the day after never. It's bad enough that Clark comes by every few days "to see how he's doing" and eat Martha's cookies and incidentally fingerfuck him about a mile over the barn until Kon shakes so hard he feels like his teeth are going to fall out. The problem is that Clark really wants him to talk about it, and he doesn't want to talk about it at all. Ever. There's no force in the galaxy that can get him to say, "It feels really good when you do that" except this Kryptonian pon farr or whatever the fuck it's called. He wonders if Tim knows something's weird. Or if maybe Robin could help, except he'd tell Batman, and -- no. When Superman "happens by" the Titans Tower -- Two weekends in a row -- It's just a good thing Kon finds Superman kind of intimidating and annoying in that hyper-reassuring phase, because he's starting to get kind of Pavlovian about it. There's this consistent -- itch. Hunger. If he can even call it that, when it's not hunger at all. But he sees blue and red and yellow and he starts to go weak in the knees. This is really incredibly bad. He knows this even before Robin watches Superman go, the second time, and raises an eyebrow at him. And says, "Superboy, we have to talk." "Um --" He fumbles for an excuse, but Robin is giving him this "I've known you since you were two months old, so don't try to play me" look. So maybe it's true. And maybe -- He really doesn't want this to get out, but who's better at keeping a secret than Robin? "Um," he says again. "We can go talk somewhere else." "Um," Kon says. "How about -- uh. Somewhere where nobody's going to overhear." "Other than Superman?" Robin says with a glance at the sky. Kon winces. "Um. Yeah." "Oracle has some blind spots in the farming communities in Mexico," Robin says, and gives him some coordinates. "Great." Before he can even think -- because he smells vaguely like fake-grape, not to mention sweat, not to mention semen -- he puts his arm around Robin's waist and they're in the sky. Robin's so calm he doesn't even clutch onto Kon, even though they're probably pretty close to a sonic boom. And then they're in a field of some damn thing -- cotton, maybe -- in Mexico. Robin is steady on his feet, and it's dusty and sunny and he's gotta be dying in that cape. He's Robin, which means he's not going to complain about heat unless he's about to die. Being Robin is at least as wacky as being Superboy, in the end, except -- don't go there, don't go there. But he's Robin, so he's this boy genius, so he says, "It's not that bizarre to have a crush on your mentor," immediately. And while Kon is staring at him going "..." for about a minute, Robin just smiles that teeny smile that's just in his cheeks or something but it's a smile. "It's a common problem, that's all," Robin says, just as Kon's got it together to say he really doesn't have a crush on Superman. He loses it again for another few cycles of "Uh." And then he's got "But --" on his lips -- And Robin says, "Though it's not that common for it to be reciprocated in any tangible form." Which makes him feel better. A little. "Okay. Um. Good. I'm going to go wash my brain with the entire Pacific now and you're really not helping and how do you know this stuff?" Robin shrugs a little. "Batman's files are quite extensive." He's totally calm about being omniscient and that makes it worse. At least Bart gets excited about knowing stuff now that he does. "Uh-huh." Kon shakes his head. "But --" "I only figured out about Superman last week." Only. Last week. "Oh." Robin wrinkles his nose. "You should probably find something that doesn't smell that distinctive. They make a wide variety of lubricants that are quite unobtrusive." Kon covers his face with his hands, which isn't as effective as Robin's mask but kind of helps his dignity not at all. "Thanks." "While I'm being supportive -- I take it you're enthusiastic about all of this? Because if you're not, I know a guy who has some green K." Kon looks through his fingers at Robin, who's still got his game face on. Bastard. Kon wishes he had a mask, too. "No. I mean. No. I -- it was kind of my idea." "Kind of?" "It's a Kryptonian thing." Kon thinks about it for a second, pushes the thought away before he gets hard again, and waves his hand. "Um. Yeah." "Okay. But if you ever need help --" "I'm not telling Batman about this!" Kon covers his eyes again. "And I'm not going to dump Superman, because we're not dating." "He doesn't exactly have an open marriage," Robin says pensively. Kon wonders what Batman's file on Lane, Lois looks like. And then he tries not to wonder. "Um. I think -- look, it's just sex." "I'm not sure it counts as friends-with-benefits when it's this complicated," Robin says. "But -- what did you want to talk about?" "I --" Kon looks at him again and sighs. "Why do I ever try to tell you anything?" "Psychoanalytic theory says that it's useful to say things out loud." Robin's still doing that tiny smile thing. Kon wants to punch him, or possibly dig himself a hole so deep no one will ever find him, and die in it. "Thanks." "No problem. Besides -- if I already know, it kind of takes the edge off of confessions, right? When are you going to tell Cassie?" Kon looks away from Robin -- the boy detective can go to hell -- and crosses his arms over his t-shirt with the S-symbol that means "sex" now in his head. Cassie's gorgeous and she's a great friend and she's going to kill him. "Never." "She's not that oblivious, you know." "Yeah but -- but I'm not going to tell her." Kon thinks about what anybody halfway in their right mind would say to somebody who said, "So I still want to be your friend, and you're a great kisser, but I kind of need people to finger me and Superman says that human skin chemistry doesn't have the same effect and I don't want to know how he knows but I'm taking his word for it." Other than, "Stop hanging out with Bart, you're losing it." "Another secret," Robin says, and he sounds kind of tired. "Well, it's your love life." Kon glares at him. "I told you I'm not in love with him." Robin's voice is as bland as Kent-recipe oatmeal. "I meant Cassie." "Oh." Kon's really tired of blushing, but it seems to happen all the time anyway. Especially when he's dealing with people's superpowers, because this has to count as Robin's. "Well -- I'm not telling her." "All right." Robin just watches him for a little while, and Kon can't think of anything to say he hasn't said. "Why did you choose to tell me?" "You already knew anyway," Kon says, and he knows he sounds grouchy. "Granted, but you were prepared to tell me." "Because I -- I don't want to do this." He holds up a hand even though Robin never interrupts anybody he's -- face it, anybody he's interrogating. "It's not rape. It's just -- a Kryptonian thing, like I said, but it's weird and it's Superman and I don't want to want it anymore." "Can you ask him to stop?" "Only if I want my entire body to feel like I'm going to turn inside out and cry," Kon says, and kicks the dirt. "It's just -- weird. Really weird. And Superman says it's hormones." "I see. There may be a way to replicate hormones, but it would take more chemistry training than I have." "Yeah," Kon says, because it's probably true but it's depressing to hear. God knows how long he'll really need to depend on Superman for the gasping exhaustion that passes for sexual satisfaction these days. "But Bart could probably learn it." "I -- uh." Kon thinks about what Bart would say, and what weird revelations he'll probably have about fisting and mentors, and says, "Okay. Maybe. Do we have to tell him why?" "He'll be curious," Robin says, "but we could probably come up with some kind of cover story." "He'll probably figure it out," Kon says. It's bad enough that Robin knows, but Flashes are supposed to be, well -- not Bats. Fast on their feet but not in their heads. He kind of misses Impulse, because Impulse wouldn't have figured any of it out, and it would have been a lot more comfortable than knowing Kid Flash could run up any second and ask how they're doing and why they're in Mexico. Kid Flash would stick around for the answer. "Probably, yes," Robin says. "But he'd help." Kon takes a deep breath and thinks about going cold turkey. It makes him want to head straight for a Hawaiian beach, sunny and warm and comforting. Possibly one convenient to a lava flow in case of emergencies for self-immolation. "Okay. When are you going to ask him?" Robin raises an eyebrow at him. "You're not going to ask him?" "If you write the cover story, I'm going to forget half of it," Kon says, but Robin's already shaking his head. "You're better than that." Kon laughs hollowly. Hollow. It's a good word for this. "Nah." It gets him a full-on glare, which is even creepier with white-out lenses. "Kon, I'm not going to coordinate this entirely for your benefit if you're not going to help. At the very least, we'll need you to provide hormone samples." "You mean -- like --" Kon can't believe he's blushing again, and he can't believe he's actually talking to Robin about this. Someday he's going to find out something disgustingly embarrassing about Robin and it will be the best day of his fucking life. "So you want my hormones -- from -- from when I'm --" "Ideally, yes." Robin manages to look Bat-calm and it makes Kon want to punch him in the nose, even though he knows he's got about as much chance of being able to do that as of, well, getting through this alone. "You can drop your aura, after all." "So I have to -- with Superman -- while you're poking me with a needle?" Kon shakes his head. "I don't think that's gonna work." Robin tilts his head to one side, doing the, "You're really dumb but I'm here to help," face. "It would be best to get a series of blood samples. I can probably find patches that will do it over a timed period." Kon stares up at the blue, blue Mexican sky and prays that Superman's too busy to be listening. "That would be better than having you, um, standing there with a needle. Because -- no." It makes Robin wince. Score one for Superboy. Now he's not 0 for 3,000 anymore. "I had no intention of doing that." "Well, as long as that's settled." Kon takes a deep breath. "We should get back." "Yes. I'll work on the cover story for Bart, but you need to prepare yourself for when he figures it out." Kon pictures Bart's face -- and it's weird, but his first mental image of Bart always has those old goggles in it. Bart horrified. Or fascinated. Bart -- is Bart. "Yeah. I'll -- I'll think about it. How long do you think this'll take?" Robin shrugs slightly. "I should have the cover ready by morning." "Great. Wonderful." Kon shivers. "And next time Superman comes by, don't glare at him, okay?" Robin looks cool as ever, which means he's probably suppressing whatever his reaction is really hard. "I won't." "Because he knows you know but he doesn't want to know you know, and he doesn't want to know I know you know and I'm stopping now." Kon glances at the sky again, like Superman's going to just drop in and yell at them. "Can we go?" Robin puts his arm around Kon's waist like it's perfectly normal to be that close to your perverted alien buddy. "We should." He smells like Kevlar and human sweat, and a little like fear, and hair gel. It's probably not a good idea for Kon to kiss him, but he hasn't been getting any kissing out of this deal with Superman. Not that he wants to kiss Superman. Superman probably wouldn't hug him like that anyway, or whimper against his mouth. Plus he doesn't have gauntlets, so his hands wouldn't feel that rough, and his grip is a lot more Kryptonian. And he doesn't have to come up for air so fast. And he doesn't ever say, "This is a really bad idea and it's not going to make you feel better," especially not with his face all flushed and his forehead pressed against Kon's. "Maybe not," Kon says, and it's not fair that Robin's wearing his uniform and he's so far from being Tim, and it's not fair that he's still so damn contained. "But I haven't tried." "If it's hormones, it won't help," Robin says, and he leans back. "I'm sure your hormonal balance is completely different from mine." "Maybe it's only half different," Kon says, and kisses him again. This time Robin hooks his leg around Kon's and they would fall over except Kon can fly, so he does. In the air, he's on his own -- well, it's not turf, or ground. His normal playing -- not field. Whatever. Plus Robin can't really run away from cumulus height, even if he wanted to -- but he's still making that little noise in his throat until he turns his head and gasps for breath. "This isn't the best way to find out." Kon kisses his neck above his cape. "We should experiment. Figure it out." Robin shakes his head. "We have no controls." Kon puts a hand on his belt and pulls him closer. Grinds against him, and Robin shudders. "There's never been a control for me." "Stop," Robin says, and it's hard. It's so hard. But he does. He lets go enough that it's safe, and pretends he can't tell that Robin's shivering. "Cassie." "It's not about Cassie," Kon says, but he's mostly saying it to make himself feel less guilty. If he's going to smooch anybody it should be her, or go flying with anybody, it should be her. Even though she doesn't need him like Robin does, for flying, and she never clings to him that way or breathes with that shiver in it, and there's something -- something pheromone-related about knowing how hard Robin is in that skin-tight buttoned-up armor. Maybe he's just gay. Except he's not, because Cassie and Tana and Knockout and really, he's not. So he takes deep breaths and takes Robin home to San Francisco. If that's home. In the morning, Tim tells Bart the cover story, and Bart zips off and does a lot of reading and comes back and asks Kon a whole lot of disturbing questions about diameter and tingling and speed of erection. Kon thinks about Hawaii again, this time with more volcanoes, and answers him as best he can without bursting into flames from the heat of his own blush. When Bart's gone again -- back to whatever university library he's been raiding for its endocrinology section -- Kon finds Tim and says, "He totally knows." Tim looks up from his homework -- if Faulkner is his homework, anyway -- and shrugs. "He's not as confused as he used to be." "I'm so fucking pathetic," Kon says. It's really tempting to punch the wall, but it's not the gym, so he'd probably do it a lot of damage. So he doesn't. "I can't even lie to Bart." "It takes practice," says Robin, even though he's not wearing his mask right now. "I wish I could just be something like okay," Kon says, and he's still not punching the wall. "Most people don't have to ask their best friends for this kind of advice." "You probably ought to talk to Cassie." "I hate you," Kon says, and he picks Tim up -- through the floor, through the chair, under the legs and arms, nothing but floating. "Why do you have to be right?" "Someone has to, sometimes." Tim puts his finger in his book and sighs like he's pretending he's not in midair. "She'll want to help." "And you don't want me." Tim looks away from him quickly. It's a Robin thing, almost. "I don't want you to hurt each other. If it's something nobody can help with except -- except him, then that's one thing, but if anybody can help, you owe her an explanation." Cassie pissed off is nothing Kon wants to think about right now. He has enough problems. But Cassie freaked out isn't fun either. "I'll talk to her, if it's going to work." Kon takes a deep breath. "But if it's not -- I -- I'm not gonna bring it up. I mean, there's lots of stuff she doesn't know about already and it's easier that way." "It's up to you," Tim says, and Kon sets him down again. "You ever wish you were a kid again?" "Sometimes." Kon shakes his head. "Sometimes I wish I had ever gotten to be one." And that's more than he really wants to talk about, so he leaves. The next time he says, "Um, Superman? It's Kon," he's got Robin's blood samplers on and they feel really weird and tingly in a totally different way from how Superman bends him over and makes him come so hard he can't see straight. He takes them to the rendezvous point in Blüdhaven and gives them to Nightwing, who's either briefed and really good at biting his tongue or possibly totally ignorant. Except he's a Bat, too, so he probably knows and is just not saying anything embarrassing. Bart comes by later in the week and says, "So I have this prototype chemical and you should try it and I don't know if it will work and I borrowed the stuff from all over the place and it took me forever not forever but a long time and I hope it works and I don't know how you're gonna test it." Kon blushes hard and says, "I'll figure it out." "I smelled it but it didn't have any effect on me because I'm not Kryptonian and you don't look any cuter than you normally do, but you normally look pretty good so maybe hormones don't have a lot to do with it. Anyway be careful with the stuff and don't put it on anything that's got chlorophyll in it because it's a really good weedkiller and it wasn't my fault and now there's a crop circle a couple fields over and I'm sorry." "Thanks," Kon says, and then he realizes it sounds mean and he says, "No -- I meant thanks for trying." "Sure," Bart says, and hugs him really fast, and then he's gone. Kon is really careful not to drop any on his way to Idaho. He hasn't been up to the cave in a while, but he left it covered with a big rock. Nobody's been in there. It's kind of weird to play with toys again, and he doesn't expect anything more than what it used to be like -- not great, but okay. Before he starts he thinks about what Robin said about controls and variables, so he tries it without the hormones, and it just makes him want to whimper, "Superman," when he comes. Not because it feels that good, but because he needs help. Mental help, clearly. Except no therapist would ever listen to that and not lock him away. He tries again with Bart's fake hormones. The tingly is there, and that's better than nothing, but it's not real enough. There's nobody but him breathing in the room and it's lonely, like it used to be but worse, because really all he has to say is, "Clark," and as soon as there's no typhoons or terrorist attacks for five minutes he'll get as well-laid as he can imagine being. But he's not going to, because that's cheating. He shouldn't go to Gotham instead. He shouldn't bring the chemicals and a pair of gloves. Robin has gloves anyway. It doesn't take long to get to Gotham anymore, and it takes even less time for Robin to find him. "Superboy," he says, "is there a problem?" He says what he's figured out to say. Not that Robin knows the code, but it's obvious. "I need your help with an experiment." Robin gives him an irritated look and he'd believe it, except for the way Tim kissed him that one time. Those two times. "You should ask Wonder Girl." "The results aren't positive enough to involve her, yet," Kon says, and he feels proud of how oblique that came out. And then he's creeped out by himself because he's trying to out-Bat Robin, and that's not going to work. "The results don't need to be wholly positive to involve her," Robin says. Kon picks him up. That's cheating, too, but it's not like he has another option. "Please," he says in Tim's ear. "She's going to be angry." "She'll be angrier if I tell her and then I say it's not going to work because really Bart doesn't know enough about Kryptonian biology." Robin sighs. "You tried the chemicals, right?" "Yeah, but it's not a real control if I don't have someone there." Kon smiles at him. Robin practices his Bat-glare right back. "This isn't fair to her." "Cut it out, okay?" Kon kisses him and heads for the pine barrens. On the way, Robin hits him and kisses him and hits him again. "Do you always do this outside?" Robin asks when Kon sets him down. He blushes. He's really tired of blushing. "It gets kinda loud otherwise." "I see." Robin takes off a gauntlet and puts on one of the latex gloves with a snap. Then he twitches just a little and taps his comm. "R here," he says. Oracle's voice in Robin's ear asks, "Where are you?" Kon can hear it really clearly, just like he can hear the kids three classrooms over talking about what they did the night before, back in school. "Rendezvous with Superboy," Robin says. "ETA?" Oracle asks. "I'll be back in Gotham in twenty minutes at the outside." "Finish the Titans business ASAP. We have a developing situation on Willingham Boulevard." "Acknowledged. R out." He raises an eyebrow at Kon. "Did you hear all that?" "Yeah," Kon says. And then he feels kind of guilty for taking Robin away from his work, and kind of awkward about dragging him to the middle of nowhere to have sex, and really like he should offer him a blowjob or something instead of handing him the hormones and bending over. Except he doesn't have enough practice at blowjobs to give a good one, and he's got that itch again, and it makes him want to beg. So he gives Robin the beaker and the lube, which is just about the same as begging. Robin sighs. "Okay. What position do you usually use?" Kon wonders if he's ever going to get used to hearing Robin talk about sex. He sounds so dry. So much like he's not thinking about what he's doing, which means he totally is. "It wouldn't really work," Kon says, "because I -- you can't really hold me up, right, and --" he closes his eyes and pretends Robin's not calculating the effects of everything he does. It's not believable, but it lets him pull his pants down and get on his hands and knees and mostly not think about what an idiotic perv he must look like. He can practically feel Robin watching him, and then there's a couple of little sounds -- squishy sounds. Lube, must be, and the stuff from the beaker. Maybe it's supposed to smell like something specific, but what it mostly smells like is nothing. What it feels like on Robin's fingers -- Maybe it would be better if he wasn't wearing the glove, but it's a lot better than the toy was. Intensely better. So much better that he's making embarrassing noises by the second finger even though he's trying not to, and he's rocking his hips, and Robin's not saying anything at all. "You okay?" Kon asks in between moans. "Yes," Robin says, and he's not together enough to know whether it's a quick yes because he's not okay, or a quick yes because he is. It doesn't really signify. Nothing does except the way his fingers feel, which isn't as perfect as Superman's, but is pretty good. Decent, anyway. He groans again and Robin adds more lube, another finger. Kon's not going to think about how he learned to do this. It can't be Bat-training, don't think about it, just feel -- because the tingly is back, and the pressure in his brain from all the Kryptonian pieces is easing. It's still not perfect -- too slow, too gentle, and the amazing "all is right with the world" feeling isn't there. But he still makes scary-loud whimpering noises, and maybe he should be paying attention to what Robin's saying or how he's reacting or something but with four fingers in him, Kon's too far gone to even turn around and look. He's groaning, he's coming, and he's hideously depressed. "Oh, shit." Robin removes his fingers slowly. "Did I hurt you?" Kon shakes his head. "No. I don't think you can. I mean, not physically. I mean -- fuck, man, I'm sorry. I suck so much --" and he's got just enough brain to pull up his damn pants and edge sideways before he curls up in a little ball on the ground. "Superboy --" Robin says, and it's a while before he touches Kon's shoulder. He's probably putting the lube away and the beaker somewhere safe, and getting rid of that glove, but it feels like he forgot Kon completely. Which he should. But instead he says, "Kon." "I shouldn't have asked you and I shouldn't need this and I should just die right now because I'm so fucking pathetic and Cassie is going to throw me into the sun and I hate myself and --" "Kon," Robin says again, "I have to get back to Gotham." Kon sits up. He stinks of sex and pheromones and he's all icky from the lube. He should go right over to Cassie's now and explain and let her kick the daylights out of him. But he picks himself up and says, "I'm sorry, dude." Robin hits him in the shoulder. "Just take me back." So he does, and Robin tells him where to go, and where to set him. He doesn't even see Batman on his way out, which means that Batman probably knows he was there and thinks he's not important enough to yell at today. Maybe he was distracting Robin from doing something really important, just like every time he gets Superman to help him and hundreds of people die while they're fucking. Or hell, every time he jerks off and people die while he's doing that instead of saving people. Or math class, which is the time of day when everybody seems to want to jump off of things, but Mrs. Horrocks doesn't give passes so he can't help. He's a complete waste of everything. By the time he gets home, he feels a little better, but not a lot. He calls Bart on his cell. "I have some --" "Data?" says Bart, skidding to a stop on the lawn. "Kind of," Kon says, and hands him the beaker. "It was -- okay, I guess. Not really as good as it usually is, and it made me feel like crap afterward. Like I'm -- not very super." Bart nods. "Did you talk to Cassie?" Kon looks at the grass and tries not to think about how pretty she is when she's angry and how her eyes flash and it makes him want to kiss her. "No." "Maybe you should because if you're keeping secrets that's why you feel lousy and it doesn't have anything to do with sex." "That's not it," Kon says, but Bart's giving him this skeptical look. "You should talk to her. Even if you're going to break up with her, which you really have to do gently." "I'm not breaking up with her! And I'll talk to her if -- if you get it right. I don't want to tell her everything's going to be okay and then disappoint her." Bart shakes his head. "You can't -- you shouldn't make it all my problem because it's not, and it's yours. You're -- she has to know what's going on and I'm not going to tell her, because she's your girlfriend, but it's not fair, Kon, and wouldn't you want her to tell you if she needed something like this?" The thought makes Kon a little dizzy with another wave of wanting to die. "She would've already." "That's what she thinks about you," Bart says, and he's gone. "I need some immature asshole friends," Kon says to the sky. Then he goes inside and takes a shower and thinks about joining the football team, but by the time he's done getting clean, he doesn't hate himself enough. So instead he says, "Superman, are you busy?" And it doesn't make him like himself, but it makes the world a little bit brighter for a little while. It's two days before Bart comes back with another sample. "I had a really big project for social studies and I had to do it with a group so it took forever and ever," Bart says, "and maybe you should try this one without asking Tim because he's kind of not happy about the whole thing." Kon really misses Impulse sometimes. "I won't ask him." "Instead," Bart says, and he's really scarily steady right now, "maybe you should ask Cassie, and explain, and --" "Stop nagging me." Kon glares at him, and just manages to not use heat vision in time. And then he feels guilty, because he could've temporarily hurt Bart pretty badly. He sighs. "Look, I just need time, okay?" Bart frowns. "I don't want you to mess up the whole team with this because if Cassie gets mad at you and Tim gets mad at you I don't know how I can not be mad at you too because you're being kind of a jerk, and it's not fair. I want to be friends with all of you, not just with you or just with them. And the Titans --" "I know, I know, I know!" So he's yelling by the end. At least it drowns out Bart. "I just can't right now, okay?" There's a ripping noise in the air. It would be really freaky except all it does is make Kon set the beaker down and put his face in his hands. "Good evening, Kid Flash," Superman says, and Kon wants to punch him. "Hi, Superman," Bart says. "I was just -- um -- just stopping by," like you can lie to Superman about anything except the stuff in your head anyway. "I'll see you around, then," Superman says, and Bart disappears, and the cornfields sway in his wake. Superman doesn't say anything. "Hi," Kon says, eventually. "You really ought to speak to Wonder Girl," Superman says. Kon looks up at him and wants to punch him even more because he's floating there doing the "living embodiment of All-American values" thing like he's never ever stuck his fingers up his clone's ass. "What am I supposed to tell her?" Kon scowls at him. "'I can date you but I have to have sex with Superman'? 'I really like you but humans just aren't good enough'?" Superman looks infinitely patient and punchable. "You could try, 'The Kryptonian mating urge is at its strongest in this year of my life, but after it wears off somewhat, I'll only have this sort of drive when the moons would be in conjunction, or about once every other Earth month.'" Kon stares up at him. "Mating drive." "What did you think it was?" Superman doesn't look smug. He just looks patient. "I would advise you against any unprotected intercourse." "Um." Kon shakes his head. "But I -- I can't get anybody pregnant like that." Superman -- Superman is blushing. "No. You can't." "Jesus Christ on a pogo stick." Kon can't stay on the ground anymore. He starts for the moon, and maybe he was going too fast lower down, and maybe escape velocity is kind of scary, but he knows Superman can still hear him when he says, "You could have fucking told me." Superman finds him on the edge between the dark side of the moon and the light side -- and Kon's not singing Pink Floyd, so it's got to be X-ray vision or some damn thing, because it's not like there's atmosphere for sound. He's overanalyzing this. Getting anal-retentive. Trying to avoid the word anal isn't getting him anywhere. "You should have said something," Kon yells at Superman. Superman says, "You were handling things relatively well, and you didn't seem to be in danger. Besides, I'm not sure you are actually susceptible to the same kinds of -- complications -- that I am." "But you could've said something! Even just 'don't bareback, you're not invincible like that'!" Kon throws a really big rock into space, and it curves very, very slowly back to the moon's surface. "I hate you!" "You were behaving safely," Superman says. "That means you were listening all the damn time?" Superman blushes. "I fucking hate you!" Kon says again. "You really should talk to Wonder Girl." "Yeah, well you should've talked to me, so what kind of balls do you have telling me this stuff?" Superman shakes his head. "The moons' conjunction is coming up tonight." "So?" "I thought perhaps we could, ah, have something of a reciprocal relationship." Kon manages to not look at him and melts a moon rock into slag with his heat vision. "No. No, no, fucking no, not happening, no. I'll wait 'til Bart gets the hormones right, I'll talk to Cassie, if Cassie dumps me I'll talk to Tim or Bart or fucking anybody but I don't care what kind of mating urge I've got, I'm not touching you again." He starts back to earth, but he's not quite fast enough to not-hear Superman say, "I'm sorry you feel that way, Kon-El." It's enough to make him want to scream, "Call me Conner, you asshole," but there's no air, and it wouldn't work, anyway. Plus Superman gave him that name, too. He wants to run away and call himself something completely different. Robert or Bill or something, anything that doesn't have anything to do with Superman and bright colors and orgasms that make him feel like he can save the whole world. Which he's never going to feel again, apparently. Instead he's going to go literally crazy from frustration, because he can't get no satisfaction without Superman the scariest fuck on the planet. Until Bart figures out the right formula, and Cassie is not-angry enough that she doesn't tear his dick off. He's just going to have to hang in there until the Titans rescue him from his huge freak of a mentor. It's a good thing Robin's got access to green K. Instead of going to Kansas, he finds Cassie. She's wearing civvies and she's got a pencil behind her ear, but she opens her window and says, "Conner!" And he hugs her. She smells good and sweet and innocent. Like Superman ought to smell and doesn't. Her breasts feel amazing and beautiful against him. He is the biggest scum on the face of the earth, unless Superman is back down again, in which case he's probably the second biggest. And then there's his other dad. Third biggest scum on the face of the earth. He backs away from Cassie, and she looks hurt. "Um," he says, "we really gotta talk." "Okay," she says, but she's frowning. "What's up?" "There's this -- Kryptonian -- mating urge -- thing." Cassie laughs and punches him Wonder Girl-hard in the arm. "You asshole, my mom told me about blue balls. Don't even try it." "No, it's not like that, I -- it's --" Kon's blushing so hard he feels like he's going to catch fire. "It's more like I have this, um, you know how people have an oral fixation except it's an anal fixation, and it has to do with hormones and -- and Superman says it's normal but he's been really weird about all of it and I've kind of been cheating on you with him but I sort of had to or I was going to -- be really uncomfortable all the time, like want-to-die uncomfortable, and I'm sorry." He's been prepared for her to punch him through the wall and into orbit for so long that when she does it, it's no particular surprise. It still hurts like hell, though. He gives her a minute to cool down and heads back with his hands up. "I deserved that. I did." She's standing in her bedroom with her arms crossed. "You're damn right you did! Fix my wall. We're going to find Wonder Woman." It's all going too fast for him. "What?" "I said fix my damn wall and we're going to find Wonder Woman so she can kick your ass and then Superman's." Cassie smacks him upside the head. "Why didn't you tell me about this as soon as it started?" "I thought you'd be mad," Kon says, and it's the lamest reason ever. It doesn't help that it's true. "I can't believe I had a crush on you," Cassie says. "Now use that superspeed." He's glad, for once, that he lives with Superman's parents -- and what do they know about all of this, anyway? -- because he can fix a wall, now. When it's done, Cassie's sitting on her bed in her Wonder Girl outfit, methodically tearing up pictures. He looks at the pile of pictures and at first he thinks they're of Superman -- but they're his old publicity shots from the Hawaii days. "You are the biggest jerk ever," she says to Kon. "Um, actually, I'm the third biggest jerk ever," he says, "because --" "Shut up." She tosses the lasso around him, which is a whole new and exciting tingle experience, and drags him out through the window. Wonder Woman isn't happy to see him at all. He's kind of glad Cassie's already got the lasso on him, because it saves a little time, and when Wonder Woman punches him he doesn't go as far. He just gets rope burn, and twangs back again, and says, "Ow." And Cassie explains, occasionally making him do parts of it. Apparently the lasso won't let him mumble, but it lets him blush hugely over words like "Superman" and "fist" and "actually it's an urge to get pregnant." Wonder Woman laughs so hard over the last one that he wonders if being Wonder makes you not wet yourself. "This sounds like a matter for the Justice League," she says when Kon's done. "Oh," Kon says. "Good." "So we don't get to help?" Cassie says. She looks like if she had heat vision the whole place would be in flames. "The Titans need to keep Superboy in a safe place." Kon chokes. "Like where? It's Superman." "If I know Batman," Wonder Woman says with a tiny smirk that says she totally does, and Kon's not going to think too hard about that right now, "Robin will have suggestions." "About Robin --" Kon says, and Cassie jerks the lasso hard. "Don't remind me, or I'll have to kick everyone's butt." "Got it," Kon says, and sighs. "I didn't mean to --" "Shut up!" Cassie slaps him hard. "Okay, okay." "Take him to Gotham," Wonder Woman says and hits her communicator. Epilogue: Kon's never sure, afterward, whether he's glad he got to spend the Superman Debacle in a lead-lined bunker under some rich asshole's manor, or what. Sure, he missed the effects of the green Kryptonite they busted out to take Superman down, and the hard-core therapy session with Truth Lasso that Wonder Woman gave him in midair, which would have been the most embarrassing thing to overhear ever. But he also missed Green Lantern's huge smackdown which he had to catch on replay because that was when the moon conjunction thing hit and he was crying, he wanted to get laid so bad. That's when Cassie and Bart and Tim finally started talking to him again. Bart had new-generation hormones, Cassie had something resembling sympathy because she could tell he really was miserable, and Tim had -- face it, he had a batallion of sex-toys with little bat symbols on them. The hormones were pretty damn good, this time, even though Bart was right there taking notes and making him talk even when he couldn't feel his toes. Cassie was really rough -- but -- but she couldn't hurt him, and all it did was make Kon grateful for fringe benefits of being half-Kryptonian. And Tim -- didn't say anything, except, "Maybe this one would be better for the third round of application," and, "That lubricant's not compatible with that material. I'll be back in a second with another." It made Kon feel like the world's most perverted science project. Except he also felt like they actually gave a shit about him, which was more than Superman ever did. When the dust settled in the world outside, Batman had a Powerpoint presentation all ready on Kryptonian mating habits and dangers. He made Tim make all the Titans watch it -- so he must have had the bomb shelter bugged or something. It was maybe the most horrifying thing Kon has ever seen in his entire life, and it made him swear he'd never, ever touch anyone else in lust ever again. And then it was over, and the lights came up, and Cassie hugged him, and she patted his ass and said, "Toys are still safe, right?" So he changed his mind. And Bart tousled his hair and said, "Did you get those pictures of syphilis in your health class? Because those were at least as weird as this and all you have to do is wear a condom like a human being and that's no big deal." And Kon felt better. Tim gave him a little smile, the Tim-equivalent of laughing his ass off, and said, "Everything's going to be okay." Which -- well, it was a lie, because nobody can ever promise that, but Kon could hear that he meant it, so he kissed Tim. And Cassie pulled them apart, hard. And kissed Tim. And Bart was laughing, and he gave Kon a huge hug and also a big kiss, and he was vibrating and it was yet another kind of tingly that Kon had never felt before. And Tim hugged them, and said, "You did a great job," which he almost never said. So that was okay.
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